The Miami crowd was ready to get this show started, and the first match on the pre-show did not disappoint. Rich got the match off right, showing a great display of technical prowess. Keegan tried to keep up, but fell victim to a number of Hurricanranas, Dropkicks, and a Springboard Clothesline. Rich looked to hit a top rope maneuver, but Keegan was able to catch him at the top. Keeping his opponent grounded with a Double Arm DDT, and a Boston Crab, Keegan looked to get the tap out.
Rich fought back though, eventually getting out of the move. A lot of back and forth action came forth, with Rich eventually getting the upper hand. With his opponent down, Rich hit a 450 Splash but Keegan was able to kick out! As Rich spoke with the referee, Keegan popped up and rolled Rich up. With a handful of tights Rich was unable to kick out in time, giving Keegan the victory!
WINNER: Keegan Ryan via Pinfall (5:43)

Cliff White looked anxious to face off with Kasimir in the ring, but had no choice as the Russian bum rushed him before the bell! With Alioth Starre at ringside, in his wheelchair, the Russian was directed to destroy his opponent. Kasimir waited for the bell, and quickly dumped his opponent to the mat with a Big Boot! Cliff was promptly put into a corner, where Kasimir connected with a Stinger Splash. Cliff was pretty much out at this point, but a well placed Hammerfist ensure that Kasimir got the pinfall.
WINNER: Kasimir Novikov via Pinfall (0:43)

The crowd was excited to see these two square off, as both men shook each other’s hand as a sign of respect before the bell. Once the bell rang it was a high speed affair, both men showcasing their athletic abilities. Trace flipped over a Boeing sweep attempt, following it up with a perfect dropkick! Boeing soon responded in kind, connecting with a brutal Savate kick to Trace’s stomach. Both men fought for positioning, and after a bit of criss-crossing, the two men ended up in the middle of the ring after stereo handstand springboards!
The crowd was certainly hot for both men, as the two stared each other down. Trace called for a timeout, coming up with a proper idea for the both of them. He pointed to the back, as music started to play! Boeing looked on in confusion, but the crowd understood what was happening. It was a dance off! The two showcased even more athletic ability, as Trace won over the crowd with a dazzling display of breakdancing. Unfortunately for Trace, Boeing cut the dance off short with a Running Hurricanrana!
Boeing kept control of the match, cutting Trace off before he could get anything going. A missed Shooting Star Cannonball gave Trace the opportunity he needed though. Trace quickly fought back, connecting with a Superkick followed by a Moonsault! With a quick cover, Trace almost took the match but Boeing was able to kick out at the last moment! With Boeing in the corner, Trace looked to connect with the Calrissian Ride. Instead, Boeing was able to run to the opposite corner, catching Trace Lando with the Young Kneezy as he gave chase! The move was enough to get the three!
WINNER: Lil’ Boeing via Pinfall (9:23)
After the match both men showed another sign of respect, the crowd going nuts for the both of them. Their display certainly winning them all over.

Niobe Martin faced a game Sydney Riddle, but Niobe’s experience kept her going in the match. After a quick flurry from Sydney, Niobe took control of the match. A Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker, and Discus Back Elbow almost got her the pinfall. Sydney stayed in the match though, continuing to fight. Niobe finally caught her opponent with a Spinning Enziguri, and quickly followed it up with a Split Legged Moonsault to get the win!
WINNER: Niobe Martin via Pinfall (3:09)

The fans seemed excited for the pre-show main event, and Kiba Bunson looked to start out very strong. He bullied Keaton at first, pushing him around and throwing him to the ropes. A chest slap seemed to wake Keaton up though, as he quickly took control. He returned the favor, returning a chest slap of his own. He followed that up with a series of Armdrags, European Uppercuts, and a slick Fishermans Suplex!
Kiba desperately tried to get back into the match, but Keaton seemed like he had everything under control. A single leg takedown transitioned into a Boston Crab, and Kiba looked like he was almost done. He held on though, and fought to the bottom rope. Kiba tried getting back up, but Keaton wasn’t having any of it. A stiff lariat sent Kiba crashing to the mat, allowing Keaton to grab his opponent and connect with the Pillar Falls! With his opponent implanted into the mat, it was only academic as he got the three count!
WINNER: Keaton Saint vs Pinfall (5:17)

The picture opens to the sounds of Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness” (Steve Aoki Remix) roaring through Bayfront Park in Miami, Florida. Biscayne Boulevard is closed off to traffic on one side with Biscayne Bay on the other. The entire vicinity is packed as those in attendance dance along with the music. Lights cut through the sky as a big cloud of smoke engulfs the ringside area following some pyrotechnics.

The scene is electric and full of life as we head into the wrestling industry’s biggest party of the year. Scanning over the energetic crowd, the camera captures various signs held throughout the mass of people.
T V – 1 4
2002 – 2017

Slowly, the music begins to fade away as the camera cuts to the ringside area. On one side of the ring, a stage used for concerts stands not far from the ring. Underneath the rooftop of it, we find our announcing duo where Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at the announcers booth.
JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to South Beach Brawl!”
VASSA: ”We’re coming to you live from Bayfront Park in Miami, Florida!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m your host, Steve Johnson.”
VASSA: ”And I’m the one you all care to hear tonight live from the biggest party of the year, Vinny Vassa.”
JOHNSON: ”Not only do we have the biggest party of the year going down tonight, but we also have one heck of a show lined up for you all watching.”
VASSA: ”It wouldn’t be South Beach Brawl without some actual brawling going on now would it?”
JOHNSON: ”Kicking things off, we have Tara Davidson defending the Fate Championship against Alexis Morrison.”
VASSA: ”About a month ago Alexis won a contenders elimination match where not only did she win a shot at the Fate Championship, she also stabbed poor Jett Wilder in the back.”
JOHNSON: ”It was every person for themselves. She did what she had to do to win and here she is at the pay-per-view with a shot against Tara for the title.”
VASSA: ”After that, we have a triple threat match with Lord Raab, Mariano Fernandez, and Scott Stevens.”
JOHNSON: ”Talk about a brawl, this has the potential to tear this park apart.”
VASSA: ”There are no titles on the line in this one but that won’t stop these three from beating the hell out of one another.”
JOHNSON: ”As you’ve all seen over the last two weeks, we have a showcase match in store between Nirvana and Jason Cashe.”
VASSA: ”Nirvana hasn’t actively competed in a while and it’s been about a year since he was in 4CW. This match has a lot of experience and history considering the two men involved.”
JOHNSON: ”For Nirvana’s sake, let’s hope that Cashe doesn’t bring a brick to ringside. No one deserves the treatment that Cashe gave Shane Clemmens two weeks ago.”
VASSA: ”Then, for the first time ever, 4CW will have a Taipei Deathmatch for the Extreme Championship!”
JOHNSON: ”This is going to be a brutal match as Viduus Morta will challenge Sativa Nevaeh.”
VASSA: ”Both wrestlers will have their hands taped and then covered in glue before rolling them in a pile of broken glass.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s going to be one bloody match and this is the type of thing we have missed since the Extreme Championship was last active.”
VASSA: ”It’s basically going to be a fight, and speaking of fights, Cyrus Riddle and Dakota Smith will go head to head in a last man standing street fight.”
JOHNSON: ”We have the surrounding streets blocked off for the evening for this block party. These two men will fight in the streets of Miami until one can no longer stand.”
VASSA: ”It’s been a brutal couple of months for these two ever since Cyrus returned to 4CW and it all comes to an end tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t say that. We’ve seen both of these men return when we thought the end had passed. I’m not counting on anything now until I see a death certificate.”
VASSA: ”What about the death of Jett’s teddy bear?”
JOHNSON: ”Now I did see that with my own two eyes as Persephone ripped him to shreds right in front of Jett.”
VASSA: ”Rest in piss Fluffy Wuffy something something honey something.”
JOHNSON: ”Jett has the opportunity to avenge the bears death tonight as he and Persephone will go head to head right here in South Beach.”
VASSA: ”These two have been through some tough trials over the last few weeks. First there was the Uno match that Jett beat her in. Then there was the Foosball game that Queef won. We’re all tied up and the tiebreaker happens later tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”There is no tie! Those two exhibitions don’t count. This is an actual wrestling match!”
VASSA: ”Calm your tits, Steve.”
JOHNSON: ”No! I’m tired of people treating those two games as if they actually matter to anything in 4CW or the wrestling world.”
VASSA: ”If they didn’t matter then why are shitty companies copying them?”
JOHNSON: ”One places copied Uno and now it’s dead. That explains it all right there!”
VASSA: ”Simmer down because after that we have a Pride Championship match between Bryan Williams and the champion, Matthias Barrows.”
JOHNSON: ”Now this is a rivalry with some substance! Matthias defeated Bryan for the championship at All Or Nothing and now Bryan will cash in his rematch clause for a chance to win it back.”
VASSA: ”These two have been at each others throats. It had gotten so bad that Lauryn Wolfe was attacked and even Gary the midget has taken some blows as well.”
JOHNSON: ”This match tonight will once and for all settle things between these two before our next pay-per-view- Ante Up.”
VASSA: ”And last but certainly not least… the main event!”
JOHNSON: ”After weeks and weeks of the South Beach Brawl Cup, we finally have a winner to face off against Elijah Carlson for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”Bronx Valescence, son of Perry Wallace, will challenge the reigning champion, Eli in our main event to top off the evening.”
JOHNSON: ”The tournament we full of twists and turns and now that it has come to an end, there is only one person fitting to challenge the champ tonight.”
VASSA: ”He fell to unforeseen circumstances in last years tournament after injuring himself in a match that he actually won to advance to the finals, but Bronx has finally made it to the big match a year later.”
JOHNSON: ”As much as I dislike the man, there’s no denying that Eli has been on a rampage as champion, cutting down all challengers and proving why he is the 4CW Champion.”
VASSA: ”After a successful defense against Scott Stevens at All Or Nothing, Eli will have his second defense here tonight against the Starboy himself!”
JOHNSON: ”And that’s our card for tonight folks. After that’s all said and done, the party will go on until the sun rises.”
VASSA: ”Or until the cops come, whichever happens first.”
JOHNSON: ”With the formalities out of the way, we’re going to cut to the backstage area momentarily as we prepare for our opening match.”

The camera cuts backstage to the parking area, where a loud siren can be heard. The camera captures a vandalized ambulance with it’s lights flashing. The ambulance drives into the park and the siren stops before the 4CW Pride Champion gets out of the drivers seat. The back door swings open to show Gary on the defibulator. Matthias waists no time in heading to the back and grabbing the paddles while Gary lifts up his shirt to expose his still partially blue chest.
Matthias presses the paddles to Gary’s chest and gives him the juice. Gary flies back into the cab just as Stacy Barrows gets out of the passenger seat with the Pride Championship in her arm. As Gary begins to gather himself, Gabriel Hartman appears to get a statement.
HARTMAN: “Matthias Barrows, what is the meaning of this? You drove this beat up ambulance into the park tonight?”
Barrows pulls his weapon, Black Betty, from the back and slings it over his shoulder as he gives his response.
BARROWS: “Where the hell have you been, Gabe? This has been my intention for two weeks now, or have you already written me off too?”
HARTMAN: “What do you mean?”
M. BARROWS: “Did you even watch either of those pieces I uploaded to the 4CW website? I told the world that I was going to hurt, defeat, and embarrass Bryan Williams tonight. I even went through all the trouble to personally ensure that there would be an ambulance ready and waiting for him when he ends up needing it, and I didn’t even get so much as a fucking “thank you” because literally EVERYONE, from the 4CW locker room, to the front office, to the ring crew, to the bookies, and to all of these morons in Miami, EVERYONE takes Matthias Barrows for granted! In fact, it’s to the point that they don’t even acknowledge the fact that I exist! And if they do acknowledge me, they don’t come correct when they do it. Case and point; Bryan Williams. He talks to me like I’m some kind of rookie and claims I cry when things don’t go my way. Things didn’t exactly go my way four weeks ago when I dropped one to Sativa Neveah, but look in my eyes Gabriel. Do you see any tears?”
HARTMAN: Well, everyone has their critics, Matthias.”
M. BARROWS: “Yeah, and one of those arrogant peckerheads is standing here right now trying to interview me. Everyone thinks that I got lucky at All or Nothing when that couldn’t be any farther from the truth! The truth is that I went out there and competed like the championship caliber athlete that I am, and I took a championship home. The truth was that I went out there and did my job better than anyone else and I succeeded. There was absolutely no luck involved because Matthias Barrows knows how to perform in a wrestling ring! The lucky one is Bryan Williams. He’s lucky that he’s only in my rear view mirror and not completely out of the championship picture altogether. If Bryan Williams were to defeat me tonight, then HE is the one who got lucky. That is a fact, and I have some more facts for you to acknowledge. I am the 4CW Pride Champion; FACT! At the end of the night, I will still be the 4CW Pride Champion; FACT! Bryan Williams is the load his mother should have swallowed; FACT! Matthias Barrows is, for once, kicking off the goddamn show; FACT! He’s doing a bang up job of it; FACT! And IT’S ABOUT GODDAMN TIME!!!”
Hartman leans away from Matthias as he sees the fire in the eyes of the Pride Champion. It is only when Stacy puts her hand up that Hartman dare breathe a sigh of relief.
BARROWS: “Those are FACTS, Gabriel. Now you go into that locker room, and you tell anyone and everyone who will listen to you, hell, tell those that WON’T listen to you every last word of what you just heard here. You tell them that there is a price to be paid for taking Matthias Barrows lightly. And while you’re at it, tell Bryan Williams that his transportation has arrived.”
Hartman tenses up again as Barrows points Black Betty right in his face.
BARROWS: “Here’s blood in your eye, Gabriel Hartman. Acknowledge that you pig fucking sack of shit.”
Matthias turns to leave and his wife follows, but Gary stays behind for a second and kicks the interviewer in the shin as the feed cuts back to the ring.


A low tone beat mixed with an electric guitar sounds through the park 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.
VASSA: ”Undoubtedly this is the biggest moment of Alexis Morrison’s career here in 4CW”
JOHNSON: ”These are the kinds of opportunities you can’t let slip by when you’re still trying to find your footing, Vinny. This is an absolute must win for Alexis.”
VASSA: ”And some wonder if she even deserves to be in this match. I think most people were hoping to see Jett and Tara square off for the Fate Title tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s wrestling for you, Vinny. The best laid plans and the most interesting storylines don’t always play out.”
”Blood, blood, blood
Pump mud through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth
I’m not that easy”

The lights turn off completely as a bright spotlight focuses upon the entrance of the stage. “Blood” by In This Moment begins to play and the crowd comes to life in a wave of catcalls and jeers awaiting the arrival of ‘The Red Queen’. As Tara Davidson steps out from behind the curtains, she is not alone, her husband Jason P. Davidson stands there besides his wife as she holds the 4CW Fate Championship over her left shoulder. Her attention is focused solely upon her husband and nothing else as they both stand at the top of the stage.
They begin to walk down the ramp as Jason puts one arm around the waist of his wife completely ignoring the crowd as some of the closest fans attempt to reach out and touch Tara even for a brief second. She is clutching the Fate Championship belt close against herself as Jason hand remains protectively clutch around her until they reach the bottom of the ramp where he steps back allowing for her to go up the steel steps first.
POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring, being accompanied by Jason P. Davidson… she is the reigning 4CW Fate Champion and hails from Miami, Florida… ‘The Red Queen’, TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”
”Blood, blood, blood
Pump mud through my veins
I’m a dirty, dirty girl
I want it filthy”

Tara makes her way up the steel steps and stands up on the apron waiting for her husband as he jumps up on the apron in one swift movement. He takes the ropes and holds them open before she steps carefully in between of them and makes her way towards the middle of the ring. She takes the Fate Championship belt and holds it up high in the air with one hand as the expression on her face shifts into a slight smirk soaking in the way in which the crowd continues to send jeers in her direction.
The lights in the park come back on as the music begins to fade out. Tara hands her Fate Championship belt over towards the referee before she turns towards her husband who is standing besides the ropes on one side of the ring. They exchange a few words in between themselves as his hands rest upon her hips. She gives him a quick kiss on the lips before he steps back through the ropes and jumps down upon the floor as Tara turns around while stretching out her arms in preparation for her match.
VASSA: ”Nice to see JPD back, huh.”
JOHNSON: ”I never really envisioned him as a cheerleader but it will always be good to see the longest reigning tag team champions in 4CW history.”
VASSA: ”Especially when half of them have an ass like Tara.”
JOHNSON: ”Right.”

Having gone through the usual pre-match checks and rule verification, the referee signalled for the bell and the match was under way. Deciding to test out Tara’s toughness and willingness to fight early on, Alexis moves quickly to the center of the ring and immediately drives her forearm into the face of the Fate champion who, being knocked back a step, recovers and fires a shot right back into the face of Alexis Morrison. Tara quickly delivers another blow and then a third one, backing Alexis up into the corner. She then delivers one final strike for good measure before turning and taking a step across the ring before coming to a screeching halt, hesitating for a brief moment before thinking better of whatever she had in mind, returning to attack Alexis only to be caught with an attempted kick to the stomach which Tara catches but is then dropped by a quick enziguri from the challenger.
VASSA: ”Not really sure what just happened there.”
JOHNSON: ”It looked like Tara was about to take off across the ring and put her full arsenal of high flying moves on display. But then she thought better of it.”
VASSA: ”It’s still early on and I’m sure we’ll see it as the match progresses but Tara cost herself some early momentum there.”
JOHNSON: ”This is our first of four title defenses of the evening and what a way it would be to start off the night to see the Fate Championship change hands.”
Alexis bounces back up to her feet quickly with Tara only half a moment behind but that’s all the difference that the challenger needs, grabbing Tara by the arm and whipping her across the ring into the opposite corner. In a flash, Alexis dashes off just as Tara collides with the turnbuckle padding, leaping into the air and pinning the champion between her and the turnbuckle pads with a body splash. The full effects of the maneuver are etched into the lines of Tara’s face but she has little chance to recuperate as the challenger, Alexis, snaps a quick knife edge chop off of Tara’s ample breasts.
For a brief moment Alexis taunts the champion before snapping off another knife edged chop, followed by a third, a fourth and a fifth. Satisfied with the red welt developing on the chest of her opponent, Alexis tries to place a kick into Tara’s abdomen but the Fate champion twists and blocks it with her thigh. In retaliation, Alexis slapped Tara across the face wickedly and then connected with a second attempt at a kick to the abdomen. As she moved to execute a third, JPD was quick to find himself up on the ring apron shouting at the challenger for the 4CW Fate Championship.
Morrison pays little attention to JPD, reeling back to kick Tara again, but the distraction does lure the referee in and it’s all the opening Tara needs to thrust her hand upward and catch Alexis with a thumb to the eye before another kick could land. JPD then drops down off of the ring apron, holding his hands up feigning innocence.
VASSA: ”How do referee’s fall for that kind of stuff all the time?”
JOHNSON: ”He’s enforcing the rules, Vinny. It’s what he has to do.”
VASSA: ”Right but everyone and their mothers mother could see what was coming!”
JOHNSON: ”Am I hearing right? Are you really cheering against Tara Davidson? Are you for Alexis Morrison?”
VASSA: ”No I’m not for Alexis. I’m for the extermination of all incredibly oblivious referee’s.”
JOHNSON: ”Is it because they’re black?”
VASSA: ”They’re not black. They’re oreo. Look at his shirt. It’s black and white.”
JOHNSON: ”For the love of God.”
Back on the offensive with Alexis clutching at her eyes, Tara begins to break her opponent down. Precisely she snaps a kick off the outside of Alexis’ right knee and then follows it up with an inside kick to left leg of the challenger. The vertical base of Alexis is quickly weakened by a second kick to the outside of Morrison’s right knee and then is buckled completely when Tara snaps another kick to the inside of her left leg, dropping Alexis down to one knee. Picking up the pace, Tara runs and bounces off the ropes, coming back and delivering a stiff kick to the back of Alexis’s head, flattening her down to the mat face first.
Outside the ring, JPD looks on approvingly, clapping his hands for a moment before encouraging his wife to continue doing what she was doing. Tara moves once more to bounce of the ropes, this time coming back and leaping into the air landing a leg drop across the back of the neck of her opponent. She’s quick to roll Alexis over, hooking the leg and going for the first pinfall attempt of the match as the referee slides into position.

Not wasting time, Tara gets back to her feet and pulls Alexis up with her, landing two quick right hands before whipping her across the ring and into the ropes. When Alexis comes back Tara telegraphs a back body drop, which Alexis leaps over and keeps running, rebounding off the ropes and launching herself across the ring into her opponent. As she does so she catches Tara around the neck and spins, planting her to the mat with a quick ddt.
With Tara down momentarily, Alexis rubs at the back of her neck where Tara had hit her with a leg drop moments earlier. For a moment Alexis looks back and forth between Tara and the top turnbuckle nearby, finally deciding to take the risk. Once she has climbed to the top rope she takes a moment to steady herself, waiting for Tara to recover and begin to get back to her feet. Patiently Alexis waits as the crowd begins to buzz. Moments later Tara finds her way back to a vertical base and turns, unsteadily, towards Alexis.
Just as she’s about to leap, JPD once more finds himself up on the ring apron and shoves Alexis viciously, sending her flying awkwardly off the top turnbuckle, catching herself partially on the top rope before crashing down to the floor outside the ring. The fans roar with disapproval as the referee sticks his head through the top and middle ropes after JPD had hopped back down to the floor, warning him that any further interference would get him sent back to the back.
VASSA: ”That’s twice JPD has brought a halt to Morrison’s blossoming momentum.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s been warned now, Vinny. But the damage has been done.”
VASSA: ”Tara was already going to be an incredibly difficult challenge for Alexis to overcome but this match has basically become two on one.”
JOHNSON: ”And yet it’s not over yet. Tara hasn’t looked herself all night. I mean… she has. But she hasn’t. Ah, screw it you know what I mean.”
With Alexis down outside of the ring the referee begins his count towards ten. Tara, ignoring him, dips out of the ring as well and moves to come up behind her opponent as she gets back to her feet. Catching Alexis at the right time, Tara wraps her arms around her head and steps toward the ring apron, reeling back and then driving forward in an attempt to front russian leg sweep Alexis straight into the ring. The challenger, however, wiggles free at the last second and instead shoves Tara into the apron alone.
As Tara pushes herself away from the ring, she slowly turns just in time to see Alexis leap up onto the security barrier and then dive at her, catching her around the neck with her legs, taking the champion down with a hurricanrana as the referee’s count continues to progress slowly towards ten.
Alexis quickly slides back into the ring, forcing the referee to break his count, before turning to leap up to the top rope to use it as a springboard. Having done so, she flips and tumbles toward the floor, going for a 630 senton, but at the last second JPD appears once more, this time to pull his wife out of harm’s way at the last possible moment leaving Alexis to crash to the floor once more.
VASSA: ”Jesus!”
JOHNSON: ”That had to hurt. There’s that two on one advantage yet again.”
VASSA: ”And there’s Tara still hesitating to implement her full arsenal.”
JOHNSON: ”Just a bit hesitant tonight and because of that this match, I think, is much closer than it would have been otherwise.”
Having fully recovered, Tara pulls Alexis up by her hair and tosses her into the ring, rolling after her with a much more determined look in her eye. As Alexis groans and works her way back to her feet, Tara lines her up carefully, looking to put the match away. Once back on her feet, Alexis turns and comes face to face with the champion and is quickly tied up and driven down to the mat with a picture perfect face buster that Tara calls THE FACE LIFT!
Popping back up off the mat, Tara scowls down at her opponent and then raises her arms in the air celebrating a win that she feels certain she has in the bag. Slowly, Tara circles Alexis, waiting patiently for Morrison to get back up to at least one knee where she can then put an end to the match with her patented scissor kick.
Once more, Tara circles behind Alexis and as she rotates back around to the front, Alexis stumbles toward her, causing a momentary grin to fill Tara’s face before she’s suddenly jerked violently downward, caught completely off guard as the fans in the park erupt watching the Fate Champion be rolled up out of nowhere. It takes the referee half a second to realize what’s going on before he slides into count.

Tara managed to kick out just in the knick of time as the fans groan in disappointment. Both women fire back up to their feet. Tara swings but Alexis ducks behind Tara, lifting her up in an electric chair and then dropping her down wickedly to the mat with a death valley driver. VIOLENT DISREGARD! Outside of the ring JPD stares on in disbelief at the sudden swift turn in momentum while Alexis dives over the fallen body of Tara Davidson, hooking her leg for another pinfall attempt.

Immediately Alexis rolls out of the ring and sprints over to the timekeeper while JPD hurriedly slides into the ring to check on his fallen wife. Glee etched all over her face, Alexis yanks the title away from the man and holds it up into the air, leaping over the barrier and out into the crowd to celebrate her win while JPD tends to his wife, slowly shaking her to help bring her back to reality. Meanwhile, from the DJ booth, Mike Powers announces the result.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… and NEW 4CW FATE CHAMPION… ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”
As Alexis disappears into the crowd, celebrating, JPD is left to help his disappointed wife out of the ring leaving us with a final shot before the scene change of JPD assisting his wife to the back while Alexis Morrison’s music blared throughout the park.

We cut backstage to Sativa’s locker room. She sits in a chair, her head laid back, while Eric Lee finishes up applying her sugar skull make up. She stares at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up straight. She reaches for a glass of water on the table next to her. She carefully places the straw between her lips and takes a drink.
CORVIN: ”You ready for this?”
Ashe walks up and hands Eric a couple rolls of sports tape. They each then start to tape up Sativa’s hands.
NEVAEH: ”As I’m ever gonna be. The adrenaline is starting to drip into my system. I can feel it.”
The brothers work on taping her wrists and hands. Both take extra caution and place a thick, flexible plastic patch on the inside of her wrists and tape over it. Sativa leans her head back again, closing her eyes. She splays her fingers allowing them to tape around them.
LEE: ”You remember everything I told you about these matches right?”
NEVAEH: ”Yes, Eric, I remember.”
LEE: ”I know you are gonna want to draw out the torture on Viduus, but the quicker this match ends, the better it will be for you. This isn’t like any match you have been in before. EVERY hit Viduus connects with will cut you open. This match is literally death by a thousand cuts.”
Sativa opens her eyes and looks at Eric.
NEVAEH: ”I know. This match won’t last longer than it has to.”
She turns her attention to Ashe.
NEVAEH: ”Burn stayed back at the hotel. Will you make sure he makes it to the hospital tonight?”
CORVIN: ”Of course I will. As soon as the match is over I’ll call him and have him head over to meet us there.”
NEVAEH: ”Thank you. I know its bad to assume you are gonna be in the hospital after a match but this isn’t an average match.”
LEE: ”You’re damn right it isn’t. We will both be backstage, right behind the entrance. We will be at your side as soon as possible.”
They finish with the taping and Sativa opens and closes her hands a few times, flexing her fists, to adjust the fit of the tape to her liking. She the once again lays her head back with closed eyes. Ashe and Eric share a look of concern, worried about her fate tonight.

The camera cuts to the backstage area focusing upon a closed locker room door where the sounds of someone shuffling things around can be heard coming from the other side. After a few moments the door opens and Jason P. Davidson steps out from inside of the locker room carrying the bags of his wife who is following behind him as she closes the door. She has changed out of her ring gear and is now dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans with a black tanktop as she holds one hand over her stomach while she is walking.
Jason looks back towards her as he bows his head in a slight manner so that he can whisper something into the ear of his wife who simply nods her head before they begin walking down along the corridor. It is clear that they are both leaving the event for the night, or at the very least that is what they are attempting to do, but they are stopped by Gabriel Hartman who is approaching closer towards Tara Davidson with a microphone held in one of his hands.
HARTMAN: ”Tara! We witnessed you lose your Fate championship belt to Alexis Morrison here tonight, but what everyone is wondering is what exactly happened out there? It was like you didn’t have any focus whatsoever. Did Alexis Morrison get inside of your head that badly?”
There is no response from Tara despite the fact that Hartman is practically shoving the microphone into her face in anticipation for an explanation for what had been a different kind of Tara Davidson inside of the ring that night. Instead Tara simply glances over towards her husband as her hand remains protectively clutched up against her stomach and Jason steps forward looking down upon Hartman who takes an instinctive step backwards.
J. DAVIDSON: ”Do you really think that my wife wants to answer your stupid questions right now? She lost her championship belt. Why don’t you have a little bit more class before you go chasing after someone who’s clearly not having a good night.”
HARTMAN: ”I wasn’t trying to offend your wife at all, but you have to admit that tonight was not the Tara Davidson we are used to seeing inside of the ring. I’d just like some form of an explanation from her before you both leave the park.”
J. DAVIDSON: ”She doesn’t you or anyone else an explanation.”
With that said he pushes past Hartman almost pushing him down to the floor as he makes a nodding motion for Tara to follow behind him so that they can leave the event without having to deal with more interruptions. Tara falls into step behind her husband, but Hartman can’t resist calling out to her one more time as he waves the microphone above his head in a dramatic fashion.
HARTMAN: ”At least tell me if you’re going to be looking for your rematch!”
Tara stops in her tracks and grabs onto her husband’s arm to let him know that she wants for him to stop walking as well. He stops and turns around allowing for his wife to whisper something into his ear before she focuses her attention on Hartman. She makes her way over to him as a small smile begins to form on her face.
T. DAVIDSON: ”As a matter of fact, I won’t be asking for a rematch against Alexis Morrison, so she can consider herself lucky to be able to hold onto the Fate championship belt without a giant target on her back. I just hope that she won’t screw up her first championship reign here in 4CW. This is her chance to prove herself here in the big leagues. Tonight she didn’t defeat Tara Davidson, she didn’t defeat The Red Queen, tonight she was lucky enough that I had more important things on my mind. Things that are far bigger than Alexis Morrison and the Fate championship belt even though I love everything about being a champion.”
HARTMAN: ”I don’t understand.”
T. DAVIDSON: ”I have something much more important in my life right now. Something that’s going to require all of my focus and attention, something that I have wanted for a long time, and that something is the exact reason why I was a different person inside of the ring tonight. I had to be self aware and more cautious, not because of myself, but because of the child I am carrying right now.”
Tara steps back and away from Hartman as the smile grows bigger on her face. Her hand now having returned to her stomach as she tenderly rubs over the material of her tanktop.
T. DAVIDSON: ”This is me officially announcing that I am stepping away from active competition here in 4CW because I’m pregnant.”
With that big announcement having officially been made public, Tara turns around and returns to where her husband is standing, there is nothing left for Hartman to say as he simply watches both Davidsons walk out of the park for the night.


After panning backstage, the show pans back to the ring for the next match of the evening.
POWERS: ” The following triple threat match is scheduled for one fall!”
“Monster” by Skillet plays over the sound system as Lord Raab comes out through the curtain with Henry Losak.
POWERS: ”Introducing to the ring from Cologne, Germany, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall! He is “4CW’s Green Disease Monster”, LORD RRAAAABB!!!”
Raab and Losak stand at the top of the entrance ramp, looking towards the ring. Raab then slowly proceeds towards the ring. He then high fives the fans before he walks up the ringside steps before entering the ring underneath the top rope. He crouches down in the corner, moving back and forth, rubbing his hands together in excitement and rolling his neck around. He remains focused with anger in his eyes as he waits for the match to begin as Henry Losak stands at ringside.
JOHNSON: ”It’s time for our triple threat match up and here comes the ever so fearsome, Lord Raab! Raab has been impressive lately with a nice couple upsets, can he pull off another one tonight?”
VASSA: ”That’s a good question Stevie. I will definitely admit, Raab has been a force lately, but the two people he’s facing off against in this match, they are no pushovers.”
The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.

Then, a sound of drums fills the arena.

POWERS: ”And now, standing 6’00 tall and weighing in at 180 pounds! From somewhere in Skyrim… “THE GADFLY”… MARIANO FERNANDEZ!”
The sound is later accompanied with guttural, barbarian chanting in a strange language, as the Song of the Dragonborn from The Elder Scrolls V – Skyrim begins its triumphant rhythm. Growing slowly in intensity matching the song, the arena lights come back…

Once the lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, Mariano is standing at the stage entrance, posing to the crowd going wild. He then beings striding decidedly and steadily to the ring. Once he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he grabs the microphone from Mike Powers.
JOHNSON: ”And here comes Mariano! Mariano looks like he means business tonight!”
VASSA: ”Since when does Mariano ever look like he means business?! The guy is a fucking goofball and can’t be taken seriously!”
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.
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.
JOHNSON: ”Stevens has arrived to South Beach Brawl!”
VASSA: ”If there’s anyone in this match more than a stooge than Mariano, it’s Scott Stevens. Good grief.”
Raab, Stevens and Mariano begin to circle each other in the middle of the ring as the referee calls for the bell.

The match is underway as Stevens and Raab appear to start off on the same page and target Mariano. Raab and Stevens take turns firing some lefts and rights into Mariano who is quick to cover himself before firing back at Raab and Stevens, respectively. Mariano quickly targets Stevens and hits him with a few stiff forearms before whipping him into the ropes and following it up with a spinning wheel kick. Stevens rolls out of the ring as Raab takes the opportunity to blindside Mariano from behind with a german suplex. Mariano gets to his feet quickly, but Raab stays on the offensive firing away at Mariano with fierce headbutts to the face. Raab grabs Mariano and takes him down with a spinebuster. Raab goes for the cover on Mariano.

JOHNSON: ”Raab taking advantage early on in this match. Stevens opening bout helped Raab by keeping Mariano off balance.”
VASSA: ”Leave it to Stevens to allow others to excel. Good strategic move by Raab by capitalizing early in this match.”
Raab brings Mariano back to his feet as he starts hammering away at him with some boxing punches. Mariano is able to duck finally as he bounces off the ropes and comes back towards Raab. Raab tries to lock onto Mariano, but Mariano is able to maneuver out of the hold and attempts a hold of his own. Raab is quick to reverse it as well as he picks Mariano up and slams him into the canvas with a DDT. Raab once again drops down for the cover.

JOHNSON: ”Raab on fire in this match up! Raab’s quick awareness is keeping him in the advantage in this match up!”
VASSA: ”Raab is a veteran in that ring! Mariano may be no match for Raab!”
Stevens finally rolls back in the ring and takes advantage himself by coming up behind Raab and blasting him with slingshot suplex as Raab’s head bounces off the canvas. Stevens grabs Raab and connects with a brainbuster before covering Raab in the middle of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”And Stevens now with the advantous return! Stevens played the waiting game and it looked like it paid off!”
VASSA: ”Leave it to Stevens to come in when it’s easy!”
JOHNSON: ”A strategy is a strategy Vinnie.”
VASSA: ”Douche bag.”
Stevens starts to hammer away at Raab but it’s short lived when Mariano reenters the picture. Mariano comes up and isn’t very impressed as he grabs Stevens and hits him with a jump swing DDT. Mariano heads to the top rope and connects with a shooting star press as he makes the cover on Stevens.

JOHNSON: ”And Stevens with the kickout! Things are getting hot in this match up!”
VASSA: ”Mariano displaying some impressive athleticism as he takes it to Stevens!”
Mariano brings Stevens back to his feet as he whips him against the ropes. Stevens comes back at Mariano as Mariano continues his fast paced nature by nailing Stevens with a pair of head scissors. Mariano follows that up with a dropsault as he goes for the cover on Stevens again.

JOHNSON: ”And Raab with the quick thinking in keeping this match up alive!”
VASSA: ”Raab has been spot on so far and he was fast into stopping this win for Mariano with the breakup of Stevens.”
Raab grabs Mariano and sends him into the corner turnbuckle. Raab charges at him and plants him with a clothesline sending Mariano to the ground. Raab turns his attention back to Stevens as he grabs Stevens and whips him into the corner turnbuckle as well. Raab charges at him and nails him with a clothesline as well. Stevens whiplashes from the corner and walks right into a Chokinator. Raab drops down and immediately locks Stevens in the Killerlock right in the middle of the ring.
Stevens is in agony as he tries to reach for the bottom rope. However, the lock is too much for Stevens as he literally can’t move from the middle of the ring. It appears Stevens is gonna tap, but before he does, Mariano comes flying out of nowhere as he breaks up the submission with a cross body. Mariano grabs Raab to his feet and connects with the arrow in the knee. Raab goes down hard as Mariano takes advantage of a weaken Stevens. Mariano grabs Stevens and connects with the Dovahkiin Driver. Mariano hooks the leg as he makes the cover on Stevens.

JOHNSON: ”Mariano does it!”
POWERS: ”Here is your winner…..MARIANO FERNADEZ!”
VASSA: ”What a match that was! Mariano with the quick finish and I don’t think Raab saw it coming! I honestly thought Raab had that match won!”
JOHNSON: ”Yea no kidding! This match could have gone either way but it’s Mariano who is victorious in the end!”
Mariano celebrates in the ring as the show pans backstage.

Cameras cuts to find Alexis near the catering holding the 4CW Fate Championship on her left shoulder. She seems to be in a small group of staff members congratulating her on that hard fought victory against Tara Davidson. The crowd instantly give a positive reaction seeing one of their favorites again. Alexis gives a smirk. She turns to spot Hannah Walters approaches her and gives the new champion a hug. At this point, the staff members start disbursing, giving the two WEW Alumni some much-needed space while they continue about with their work.
MORRISON: “When I offered I didn’t think you’d show after I gave you the invitation. I wouldn’t blame you. This isn’t like WEW, Hannah. 4 Corners Wrestling is a very dangerous and violent place. I feel like every two weeks I’ve been transported to WestWorld and have to defend myself all the time.”
WALTERS: “No, it’s not. But I’m still enjoying myself. It’s been awhile since I could just sit back and watch. You did amazing out there, Alexis. You seriously deserve it, congrats!”
Alexis smiles, looking down at the Fate Championship.
MORRISON: “Thank you, Hannah. It means a lot to me that you were able to enjoy yourself. It must feel great having the freedom to sit back and enjoy wrestling again. I can’t. Every time I have that thought in my head. I quickly remind myself this is all I’m good at. I don’t know anything else. I’ve been through battles these past few weeks getting my name across as a woman wanting to start fresh. This Fate Championship is just the start of things to come.”
The 4CW Fate Champion lifts her head up toward Hannah Walters. She surveys the area. Looking around before speaking once more to her former WEW rival. Alexis nods her head a bit before glancing back at Hannah.
MORRISON: “It’s amazing how far everything’s come. Seems like yesterday that we were having our having our fight against each other over differences. You were one of the first people that really challenged me. Made me see myself in a different light. I should be the one thanking you. If anything for those moments.”
WALTERS: “Aw, thank you. That means a lot to me. You definitely pushed me to my limits. I miss being in the ring, but then again, I feel like I’ve done all I could. So I’m currently satisfied where I’m at now. You’re doing great, and I really like seeing you out there still doing your thing. You are one of the best.”
Their conversation gets interrupted by Gabriel Hartman. He saunters into frame holding a microphone in his hand and a smile on his face. He lifts the mic close enough to his face. Hannah looks up at the man smiling politely as Alexis puts her hand on Hannah’s shoulder and steps in front. Alexis glances toward Walters.
MORRISON: “You know what Hannah I’ll catch up with you later. I’ll let you go back to watching the rest of the pay-per-view. Gabriel wants to do another interview regarding my match and the outcome from tonight.”
Hannah nods. They hug again and Hannah walks off.
HARTMAN: “Sorry to intrude, Alexis. Congratulations on beating Tara Davidson for the Fate Championship. I was wondering if I could get a few words with our new 4CW Fate Division. How do you feel about how the match went down? Are you considered about Tara? She didn’t look to be at her best out there.”
MORRISON: “Am I considered? Yeah. It goes to show how much this championship belt means to Tara to even go out there not even close to a hundred percent. That being said though, it doesn’t take away from me beating her in the middle of that ring and walking away carrying the Fate Championship. She went out there and tried. Takes a lot of guts. I went out there to do what I said I would do and I proved I’m a woman of my word. I proved I am a woman who is going to take this division to the next level, showing the world what I can do as their champion.”
Alexis says before she starts to wipes the championship with a napkin. The Anti-Starlet slides her hand down and scoops up some miniature scoop-able chips with bean dip. She eats it in one bite.
HARTMAN: “Anything you want to say to everyone in the Fate Division?”
She doesn’t need to think long about what to say. Alexis has only been thinking about these words since the moment winning the Battle Royal a few weeks ago. The 4CW Superstar lets out two words from under her breath.
MORRISON: “Step up.”
Alexis Morrison walks off as cameras begin to take us back to ringside.

Viduus and the Speaker stood outside of Bayfront Park in Miami overlooking the sea. The stars and bright moon reflected on the water as both men turned towards the camera, their backs to the water.
SPEAKER: ”Miami…the time has come. Viduus will introduce all of you pathetic people to a new era of blood. All of you dirty, sweaty, smelly Floridians will be subject to the blood and screams from two true warriors that will step into the ring. You will avert your eyes at points. You will cover your ears when you hear the shrieks. When the bell finally rings, signaling the end of a match, a new king will rise.”
Viduus cocks his head left and then right.
MORTA: ”Look at all of you. Look around. Each one of you have committed some disgusting act of sin at some point today. Some of you have cheated on your wives. Some of you have given your wives to other men so you could watch. Some of you have abused drugs. Others abuse alcohol right now. All sinners eventually pay Miami. We come to separate the body from the soul. We’ve come for Sativa’s blood.”
With that each man throws their head back in their maniacal laughter as we rejoin our broadcast.


The park goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the entrance way, almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the former three time 4CW Champion, ‘The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”
Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps, those who have their hands out wanting some love he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.
Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he balances on the middle rope, leaning against the top rope and once again hits the “Air Joint” before getting hyped up over the upcoming match.
Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell.
VASSA: ”Well, I’m sure Jason Cashe would have loved to have this match under a more violent setting.
JOHNSON: ”I don’t think Cashe needs more violence at the moment with the way the last Adrenaline closed out!!”
VASSA: ”Well if you ask Jason Cashe, I’m sure busting Shane Clemmens head in with a brick was satisfying!!”
“Orgasmatron” by Sepulture plays through the speakers as Nirvana steps out onto the stage. Looking around, Nirvana raises his fist into the air, not wielding his barbed wire weapon he’s accustomed to bringing to the ring. He stands there for a moment, admiring the crowd in South Beach.
POWERS: ”His opponent, from parts unknown weighing three hundred twenty-eight pounds… he is ‘The Midnight King’, NNIIRRVVAANNAA!!!”
Nirvana paces around for a moment, before walking the short amount of ramp, leading into the ring. Once he entered the ring, he paces around, locking eyes with Jason Cashe as he does.
JOHNSON: ”Well, I’m sure the world can’t wait to see this!! Nirvana has come home!!!”
VASSA: ”Yeah, but it’s only for a short time. To be honest, I’m not sure if he can even hold up. The dude is older than the ground we walk on, Johnson!!”
JOHNSON: ”Well, we’re about to find out, aren’t we??”

As the match starts Nirvana lunges forward to grapple Cashe, but Cashe ducks under and side steps him, giving off a laugh as he takes a step back toward the ropes waiting for Nirvana to advance again. Nirvana lunges forward once more for a grapple, Cashe ducks it again and laughs at Nirvana as he spins around to face him. Cashe steps back a bit as he and Nirvana start a circling motion. This time when Nirvana lunges forward they lock up. Cashe tussles for a moment before gripping Nirvana’s wrist and tossing him toward the ropes. Nirvana rebounds and comes back getting laid down to the mat back first with a clothesline. Cashe backs up into the ropes and bounces off them, coming forward and hoping into the air, driving an elbow onto Nirvana’s chest. Cashe hops back to his feet and reaches down, grabbing Nirvana by the mask pulling him to a knee. He gives Nivana a back hand to the face before running back and springing off the ropes again, coming forward with a knee, which Nivana ducks under and avoids. Cashe springs off the other side of the ropes and comes forward before Nrivana can stand and tramples over his back with his feet.
JOHNSON: ”It looks to me like Cashe is toying with Nirvana right now!”
VASSA: ”Of course he is… Maybe everybody is right? Maybe Nirvana is too old for this sport?”
Jason Cashe reaches down and grips Nirvana’s wrist, pulling him to standing position. He fires a knife edge chop to Nirvana’s chest, but Nirvana shakes it off. Cashe looks offended and fires another one which Nirvana shakes off again. Cashe gets frustrated as he fires a third knife edge chop, but this time Nirvana reaches out and knocks Cashe’s arm back before spinning in a circle and knocking him into the ropes with a elbow to the face. Cashe springs off the ropes and rebounds back in Nirvana’s direction as Nirvana lifts him up and drops him back first to the mat with a scoop slam. Dropping to a knee, Nirvana lifts Cashe to sitting position and locks him in a headlock. Nirvana begins to wrench it in and apply pressure as Cashe reaches toward the ropes.
VASSA: ”Well, I guess I spoke too soon, huh?”
JOHNSON: ”Yeah, one thing you should never do is count Nirvana out. He favors that old school wrestling, and with old school comes a hell of a lot of heart!”
After a momentary struggle of reaching out for the ropes and Nirvana continuing to tighten the hold, Cashe swings his arm back and reaches toward Nirvana, raking at his mask clawing a finger into his eye, causing Nirvana to break the grip and stumble back. Cashe follows up with an elbow knocking Nirvana backwards and sending him tumbling back. Cashe climbs to his feet and turns toward Nirvana as he starts regaining his composure. Cashe kicks Nirvana in the stomach, causing him to buckle forward. After firing an elbow directly on top of Nirvana’s back, Cashe locks Nirvana’s head under his arm. Cashe lifts Nirvana into the air and drops him back first with a suplex, before rolling over onto him for a pin.

JOHNSON: ”Jason Cashe should know it’s going to take a lot more than that to keep Nirvana down!”
Cashe reaches down and pulls Nirvana to standing position. He locks up Nirvana’s wrist and tosses him toward the ropes. As Nirvana rebounds, Cash attempts a clothesline, but Nirvana ducks under it and springs into the ropes on the other side of the ring, rushing back toward Cashe, connecting a clothesline of his own. While Cashe hits the mat, Nirvana springs into the ropes again and comes back, jumping into the air and landing across Cashe’s stomach with a huge body splash.
VASSA: ”That body splash looks like it could have knocked all the wind out of Cashe?”
JOHNSON: ”It could have cracked a few ribs too!”
Nirvana pulls himself and lifts Cashe to his feet. Gripping Cashe’s head he stuffs it between his legs, setting him up in piledriver position. Nirvana lifts Cashe up and stalls for a moment before dropping back and driving Cashe head first into the canvas with a stump puller piledriver. As Cashe falls back first onto the mat, Nirvana stays seated for a moment before leaning down and reaching out, hooking the leg for a pinfall.

Following the kickout, Nirvana pulls himself to his feet. Reaching down, he grips Cashe under the arm and pushes him back into the corner. After a couple chops to the chest, Nirvana uses his forearm to run it along Cashe’s neck giving him a bit of a choke before backing up and allowing him to stumble forward. Nirvana fires a kick toward Cashe, but it’s scouted, allowing Cashe to knock it back. Cashe hooks his arms around Nirvana, lifting him and dropping him back first into the corner turnbuckles with an exploder suplex. Cashe crawls from the corner and pulls himself to his feet as Nirvana rolls onto his stomach holding his hip in pain.
JOHNSON: ”Nirvana holding that bad hip!”
VASSA: ”Yeah, and if he’s not careful enough, Cashe could break his other one!”
Nirvana starts using the ropes to pull himself to his feet, causing them to serve as a crutch of sorts. As he turns around, Cashe bolts toward him, extending his arm out and clotheslining him over the ropes. As Nirvana hits the ringside floor, Cashe exits through the middle rope, keeping himself positioned on the apron. He begins to taunt Nirvana as he slowly pulls himself back to his feet next to the barricade. Cashe rushes forward and hops from the ring apron, rolling frontward like a cannonball. Nirvana scouts this and drops out of the way at the last moment, causing Cashe to hit the barricade back and neck first, avoiding the Troubled Cannon. Cashe rolls around on the ringside area, reaching back and gripping his back in pain following the collision.
VASSA: ”Nirvana ducked the Troubled Cannon at the last second, if Cashe would have hit that, it could have been curtains!”
JOHNSON: ”What great awareness by the veteran, Nirvana! That put him right back into this match-up!”
Nirvana stands up, and reaches down, lifting Cashe to his feet. He grips the back of Cashes head and drives it forward, smashing the top of his head against the barricade. Nirvana turns a groggy Jason Cashe around, positioning him in a leaned position against the barricade. After taking a couple steps back, Nirvana does a slow jog forward and hops into the air, connecting a body splash onto Cashe against the barricade. As Cashe comes stumbling out, Nirvana kicks him in the stomach and then grips his wrist, pulling him forward and whipping him toward the steel steps. The collision sends Cashe tumbling over the ring steps and onto the ringside floor mat.
JOHNSON: “Official is at the count of three! Both men might want to use the environment to their advantage, but they also want to mind that ten count!”
VASSA: “Trust me, these guys have been in the business a long time, Johnson. Including Nurvy. That guys, like you… a fossil to this sport!”
Nirvana lifts Cashe up by the wrist and grips the back of his head, tossing it downward and smashing it against the ring apron before rolling him back in through the bottom rope. As he slowly enters the ring, Cashe painfully makes his way to both knees. Nirvana stalks behind Cashe for a while as he comes to a stand and then locks his arms underneath of Cashe’s from behind, tightening him up in a full nelson set up. Nirvana lifts Cashe a couple feet and drops down into sit-out position with a full nelson bomb. As Cashe hits the mat, Nirvana pushes him to the side and rolls on top of him, hooking the leg for a pin.

Cashe kicks out, causing Nirvana to sit up and look around, gripping at his mask with both hands in frustration. Nirvana pulls himself to his feet and stands over Cashe looking down upon him for a moment before making his way over to the corner. He ascends to the middle rope and turns facing Cashe. He hops from the turnbuckle looking for a middle rope headbut, but Cashe quick scrambles to his feet, causing Nirvana to straighten out and land on his feet, stumbling forward. Cashe knees Nirvana in the stomach and locks him in double underhooks, dropping back and driving Nirvana’s head into the canvas with a butterfly ddt. As Nirvana rolls onto his back, Cashe lays upon the mat for a second to take a breather.
VASSA: ”If Nirvana would have hit that middle rope it could have been over!”
JOHNSON: ”Jason Cashe played possum and it paid off!”
Cashe rolls over onto his stomach, digging his hands into the canvas and pulling himself to a stand. He bends down and reaches out, gripping Nirvana under his arm. He pulls Nirvana to his feet and grasps his wrist, Irish whipping him toward the ropes. Nirvana hits the ropes and rebounds back in Cashe’s position. Cashe grips Nirvana’s waist and locks him up, trying to send his sailing back with a release belly-to-belly suplex. Nirvana holds his weight and breaks Cashe’s grip by driving an elbow into his forehead. Cashe stumbles back as Nirvana rushes forward with a big boot. At the last second, Cashe ducks it, causing Nirvana to catch his leg over the top rope, taking impact from the cable to his groin. Pulling his leg from the rope, Nirvana turns around to face Cashe only to catch a discuss elbow to the chin. As Nirvana hits the canvas, Cashe falls on top of him for a pinfall.

As Cashe comes to sitting position, growing angry he looks at Nirvana who rolls onto his stomach and reaches at the ropes to use them as a crutch. Cashe pulls himself to his feet and as Nirvana grips the ropes and attempts to pull himself up, Cashe reaches over him, and digs a thumb into his eye. The official quickly gets in front of Cashe, warning him to take it easy. Cashe backs off and looks around at the audience., giving a bit of a taunt.
As Cashe yells his battle-cry turns around and charges forward, Nirvana catches him out of the corner of his eye. He lifts Cashe into the air and drills him down onto the mat viciously with a huge spinebuster.
VASSA: ”I think that spinebuster just shook the whole fucking park!”
Nirvana holds his hip as he climbs back to his feet. Cashe makes a scrambling crawl to the corner in an attempt to find safe haven with a look of pain across his face. As he leans into the corner, Nirvana comes to a stand. He drops down in front of Cashe and reaches out with both hands, gripping Cashe’s neck and choking him in the corner. The official starts a five count, but Nirvana quickly breaks the choke and pulls himself up from his kneeling position. He backs up a bit, making a motion like a train and charges forward, back into Cashes direction. Nirvana jumps forward and using himself as a ram collides head first into Cashe’s stomach while he’s leaned against the turnbuckles, causing the park to irrupt.
VASSA: ”That idiot could have just broke his own neck!”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t even think he really cares?”
VASSA: ”Just plain brutal!”
With both men rolling around on the mat in pain, the referee continues to check on them. Nirvana does a slow crawl toward Cashe, letting out a painful yell with each motion. Nirvana reachs out and stretches his arm forward, dropping it over Cashe lazily for a pinfall…

Cashe jolts his leg up and places it over the ropes breaking the count. Nirvana sits up and shakes his head in disappointment. Exhausted he takes a moment to catch his breath and then digs his hands into the mat, pulling himself to his feet. Nirvana makes his way to the corner, and while the official is checking on Cashe, he begins to untie the protection padding from the top turnbuckle. Letting it drop to the outside of the ring, Nirvana turns toward Cashe who is now trying to pull himself to standing position. Nirvana reaches out and lifts a groggy Jason Cashe over his head, locking him in an airplane spin, giving a few twirls around in the ring before hoisting him onto his shoulder and attempting to lawn dart him into the exposed turnbuckle. Cashe somehow kicks behind Nirvana and lands behind him feet first. He pushes Nirvana forward, causing him to collide face first with the turnbuckle. As Nirvana spins around dazed, Cashe hoists him into the air and drives him down with a Trouble Maker, instantly keeping the pin locked in.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, ‘The Troubled One’, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”
Rising to his feet, Cashe looks over the packed Miami crowd as the official steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air. Ripping his arm away from the official, Cashe looks down at Nirvana and chuckles before exiting the ring and hopping over the barricade. Squeezing his way through the crowd, Cashe joins the party as the picture slowly transitions.

The screen cuts to a black tinted out 69’ Chevelle SS pulling up to outside tented in all access area of the parking lot. The car pulls into a parking spot and idols for a moment before cutting off. A moment later the car door opens up and Johnny Evil steps out looking around and smelling the scent lingering in the air of South Beach. Closing the driver’s side door he looks over to barricaded area to enter the All Access tents.
JOHNSON: ”What in the heck is Johnny Evil doing here? He’s not booked tonight?”
VASSA: ”It sure as hell doesn’t matter now, because Johnny Evil is here and I’m sure he wants to cause some mischief at South Beach!”
JOHNSON: ”Well if his intentions are to ruin the main event between Elijah Carlson and Bronx Valescence, he should have just stayed his butt at home!”
VASSA: ”That’s your opinion, Johnson!”
JOHNSON: ”You’re damn right it is and I’m entitled to it!”
You can hear the boos filtering around the park as Johnny makes his way toward security, and he hears them as well. Smirking from ear to ear as if to embrace them. Continuing a walk of arrogance, Johnny lets his eyes scroll around the environment as he walks up to the gate.
Security pulls back the barricade, allowing Evil into the All Access area as the camera catches one final glimpse of him before the footage goes back to the ring.



JOHNSON: ”Welcome back folks! Up next, we have our first ever Taipei Deathmatch for the Extreme Championship!”
VASSA: ”I’ve never had the pleasure of calling one of these. I’ve heard many rumors and stories throughout the years but tonight is a first for me.”
JOHNSON: ”I’ve called many matches over the years and tonight is a first for me as well, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”Aside from the hands covered in glue and broken glass, literally anything is legal, correct?”
JOHNSON: ”That is correct sir. There are no rules in this match, no count outs, nothing. It’s anything goes and may the person who doesn’t die from blood loss win here tonight.”
“March Into the Sea” by Modest Mouse hits the speakers as the song begins playing throughout the park.
POWERS: ”The following Taipei Deathmatch is scheduled for one fall and will be for the 4CW Extreme Championship!”
As the music pulsates throughout the park, the lyrics begin and four different fire explosions keep firing in the air on each side. Viduus walks out slowly on pace with the music, both hands wrapped in tape.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring first, weighing in at one hundred ninety-five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall… VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”
The music picks up pace and Viduus echoes his signature laugh almost matching the song that is playing while throwing his tape wrapped hands in the air. Viduus makes his way to the ring almost floating in the way he walks and moves his shoulders in stride. Viduus slides into the ring and crawls to the middle where a table is in place. One top of the table, a tray full of broken glass sits alongside one full of a glue substance.
VASSA: ”All he has to do is cover his hands in the glue and then roll them in the glass.”
JOHNSON: ”This is going to be one messy match.”
VASSA: ”I’m excited to say the least.”
Rising to his feet, Viduus checks in with the official who grabs both of his wrists and then submerges the top of his hands inside of the glue. After covering them, the official pulls Viduus’ hands out and then moves them over to the tray of broken glass. Lowering Viduus’ hands onto the glass, the official rocks them back and forth, forcing the glue to pick up the pieces of broken glass and cover the entire top of his hands. Pulling Viduus hands away from the tray, the official holds them up and gives them a quick look over before giving him the nod and sending him to his corner.
JOHNSON: ”Viduus is all ready to go.”
VASSA: ”Just look at all that glass covering his hands. They look like a broken up disco ball.”
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. Just like Viduus, her hands are already wrapped in tape.
POWERS: ”And the champion!”
She stares almost vacantly out at the crowd, A black light illuminates her face from the side of the stage, 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 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 the center of the ring where the table with all the needed accessories awaits. She hands the belt to the official who then places it over his shoulder. The official then grabs Sativa’s wrists and submerges the tops of her hands into the glue. After covering them, he pulls them out and then dips them into the broken glass, rolling them back and forth and covering them just like Viduus’. Pulling Sativa’s hands away from the glass, the official inspects them momentarily before nodding at the result. He then sends Sativa to her corner.
VASSA: ”Well both Viduus and Sativa are now ready to rip each other apart.”
JOHNSON: ”Give it a few moments to let the glue dry and then we’ll finally get this slasher underway.”
The official then drags the table to the ropes where two members of the ringside crew stand by on the outside. He hands the tray of glue to one member and then the other try to the other member. Picking up the small table, the official folds the legs before sliding it underneath the ropes and kicking it to the outside floor. Backing up to the center of the ring, the official then removes the Extreme Championship from his shoulder and hoists it into the air above his head. Turning to each side of the ring, the official presents it to the crowd and the announcers booth. Lowering the belt, he then walks to the ropes and hands it off to a member of the ringside crew.
On the outside of the ring, the crew members have set up the table to hold the trays of glue and glass. The Extreme Championship is then placed beside them both.
JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a lot from these two over the weeks leading up to tonight.”
VASSA: ”Attacks, bloodbaths, abductions… it’s just another day at the office in 4CW.”
JOHNSON: ”The Extreme Championship has evolved over the years. Going from television to extreme, extreme to no holds barred every two weeks, and now back to bigger extreme oriented matches.”
VASSA: ”This isn’t the top championship in 4CW, well maybe it is in a way if you take the setting of matches into consideration. Regardless, this belt is a stand alone monster and has a deep history of violent matches over the years.”
JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen glass table matches, prison matches, and now a Taipei Deathmatch. Those who challenge for this championship are true gladiators.”
VASSA: ”The word on the street lately is that the belt has a thirst for blood. It’s going to get drunk and wasted tonight!”
JOHNSON: ”Well it’s been a few minutes and the official appears to be ready to get things underway.”
VASSA: ”About time! I’ve been waiting for this like a kid for Christmas!”
JOHNSON: ”We have the medics on standby for after the bell finally sounds to end the match. Let’s hope they aren’t needed before. May god have mercy on their souls…”
VASSA: ”Praise Jesus!”
In the center of the ring, the official stands patiently as the glue has had a few moments to cure. Checking in with Viduus, there isn’t a slight hesitation as Viduus nods at the official, giving him the signal. The official then turns to Sativa who bounces back and forth in her corner, looking down at her glass covered hands. Slapping her hands together, she then looks to the official with a grin. With both wrestlers ready, the official then calls for the bell and races to the ropes to get out of harms way.

As the match starts off, Viduus rushes forward and tries to club a hammerfist across the top of Sativa’s head with the glass shard wraps, but Sativa ducks low and drives her fist into Viduus’s stomach, leaving a couple glass shards stuck in his clothing and flesh as she does. Viduus buckles forward and Sativa pulls him toward her, driving an elbow into his forehead. As he buckles down even more, Sativa takes her fist and begins digging into his head with glass shard wraps dipped and glued upon her hand. She pushes Viduus back and runs forward, hopping into the air and connecting an enziguri directly to his chin, sending him down to the mat. With Viduus down, Sativa hops into the air and drops the fist down upon his forehead, causing the glass to dig into his flesh. Standing back to her feet, she raises her hands into the air and opens her palms, taunting the audience with a wicked scream.
JOHNSON: ”Well, we knew this thing was going to get violent fast! Viduus already has a couple small lacerations upon his forehead!”
VASSA: ”Of course he does, that’s what happens in a Taipei Deathmatch. Glass wrapped hands were never good for anybody’s well being. Especially when you have them on the hands of Sativa Nevaeh!”
Viduus smirks, wiping the blood splats from his forehead as he climbs to his feet. Sativa rushes forward and tries to fire a right hand toward Viduus’s cheek, but Viduus ducks it and lifts Sativa by the waist dropping her down upon his knee with an atomic drop. After letting go, he spins in a full circle and uses the momentum as extra impact as he drills a hand directly into her forehead, dropping down on her as they both hit the canvas. Viduus then mounts Sativa and grips her hair with one hand, lifting her head from the canvas as he fires a blow directly into the forehead. As he pulls his hand up, you can see the shards embedded in her skin.
VASSA: ”Seeing a bit of a tit for tat in the early exchange of this fight for the 4CW Extreme Championship!”
JOHNSON: ”Either way, like everyone’s saying- nobody wins in this match, there may be a victor in the end, but the true winner of this fucked up and violent match-up will be the belt itself!”
Viduus stands up and pulls Sativa to her feet. He tosses her into the corner and runs forward cocking his fist back and trying to hit her with a superman punch in the corner. Sativa quickly grabs both sides of the top ropes and boosts herself up as she kicks forward, catching Viduus in the chin and causing him to stagger back. Sativa rushes out from the corner and clotheslines him down to the mat. After circling Viduus, she reaches down and grips his dreadlocks, forcefully pulling him to a knee. She begins digging the glass wrap into his forehead once more, causing blood to trickle down his face. Backing up she rushes forward and dropkicks him in the stomach, knocking him back down to the mat.
JOHNSON: ”Blood is already trickling down Viduus’s face and into his eyes!”
VASSA: ”Did you expect anything less from The Blood Countess?”
JOHNSON: ”Well no, not really!”
Sativa reaches down and pulls Viduus to his feet again, tossing him through the middle rope to the ringside stage area. She waits for Viduus to roll onto his back and catapults herself over the ropes with a swanton directly across his chest. Pulling herself to his feet, she stomps his chest a bit before hoping down from the stage and pulling the ring apron up, beginning to search for a weapon under the ring. After retrieving a stapler, Sativa turns, but Viduus has already made it to his feet and hops from the stage driving his glass shard wrapped fist into the top of Sativa’s skull, causing her to drop the stapler and fall to the ground. Viduus reaches down and grabs the stapler, looking to the side and seeing a Viduus Saves sign held up by an audience member. As Sativa climbs to all fours, Viduus grabs the sign and places it upon her back, using the stapler, to staple it down into her flesh. Letting out a yell, Sativa drops back down.

VASSA: “Sativa Nevaeh is now a poster child for the Viduus Saves campaign!”
JOHNSON: “Oh my lord!”
Viduus reaches down and grabs Sativa by the hair, pulling her to standing position and looking her in the eyes. Sativa laughs the pain off, causing Viduus to ram her head into the barricade. He attempts it for a second time, but Sativa fires an elbow backward, connecting it into Viduus’s chin and causing him to stumble back against the ring apron. Sativa grabs the stapler from the ground and hold him against the ring apron as she pushes it down against the top of his head and fires a staple. Letting Viduus go, he stomps around in pain, gripping at the top of his head. After Sativa pulls the sign from her back and drops it to the ground, she kicks Viduus in the ribs and jumps up onto his shoulders looking for a hurricanrana. Viduus staggers forward and counters with a powerbomb, dropping her back-first upon the top of the steel barricade.

JOHNSON: ”Viduus could have just snapped Sativa’s back in half!”
VASSA: ”Fuck a winner, these two might need medical attention before the match ends!”
As Sativa lays dazed against the barricade, Viduus runs forward and drives his fist into her stomach, digging the glass shards in as he laugh. Viduus backs up and charges again, clotheslining her over the barricade into the audience. Hoping the barricade after her, Sativa attempts to crawl a distance away to gain her composure. Viduus reaches down and grabs her leg, spinning her onto her back. Sativa wildly kicks upward with her free leg, driving it into Viduus Morta’s chest. As Viduus stumbles back he hits into the barricade back first. Sativa waits until he stumbles toward her and grabs at his thigh, rolling him up in a roll up pinfall attempt.

Viduus aggressively kicks out as both he and Sativa scramble to their feet. It’s Sativa catching the momentum first by grabbing an audience members beer cup, splashing it into Viduus’s eyes. As he wipes the liquid from his face, Sativa runs forward plants a superkick directly to his chin, causing him to hit the barricade once more, and flip over it back to ringside. Sativa boosts herself up onto the barricade and waits for Viduus to climb to all fours. As he’s about to stand, Sativa jumps from the barricade and drives his face down onto the ground with a fameassour. Sativa hops up and eyes the table where the glass shard bowl and glue bowl are sadistically. She dips her elbow into the bowl of glue and than the glass shards. As Viduus comes to standing position she rushes forward and elbows him in the face, opening a cut upon his cheek.
VASSA: ”Talk about using your body as a weapon!”
JOHNSON: ”This just shows how much Sativa wants to retain her Extreme Championship here tonight!”
With Viduus groggy, Sativa fires another elbow toward his face, but somehow Viduus manages to grip her and twirl her around, dropping down and driving a knee directly into her back with a tilt a whirl backbreaker. Sativa rolls around on the ground in pain. Viduus crawls over to Sativa, rolling her on her back and looking for a pin.

Sativa kicks out, causing Viduus to climb to both knees and lean in toward the ring apron. He begins to search under the ring and retrieves a kendo stick. As he climbs to his feet he steps over Sativa who is on all fours and begins to use the kendo stick to choker her from behind. Sativa reaches out gasping for breath and fighting it for a moment. After reaching toward the table for the bowl of glass shards, she realizes she’s not close enough and reaches back, clawing Viduus in his eyes. Viduus breaks his grip staggering back. Sativa turns around and digs her fist into his chest ripping downward, causing a slice upon his skin. As he takes a step back in pain, Sativa grabs the bowl of glass shards and dumps them out onto the ringside ground. Viduus comes back toward her, trying to grab her waist, but Sativa knocks his hand out of the way and kicks him in the stomach. Wrapping him up in a DDT set-up Sativa drives backward, floating Viduus into the air and landing him face first onto the glass shards with an impaler ddt. Both competitors roll around in agony, pulling glass shards from the lacerated body.
JOHNSON:”Welcome to a massacre at South Beach, both Sativa and Viduus are cut up, exhausted, and bloody!”
VASSA: ”Just the way our acolytes of the Extreme like it, Steve!”
Sativa is the first one to get up, brushing the shards of glass from her arms, watching as Viduus continues to struggle his way to his feet. Sativa reaches down and grips the kendo stick in her hand. Hovering over Viduus as he makes it to all fours. Sativa then begins to rapidly bash Viduus across the back several times with the kendo stick before dropping it. Sativa lifts Viduus to his feet and locks his head under her arm, rushing forward and drilling him down head first with a bulldog onto the ring steps. Viduus rolls off of the steps, leaving a bloody face print upon it as Sativa reaches out and goes for a pinfall.

Sativa sits up and screams in frustration, gripping at her hair and pulling it as she stands. She begins to stomp across Viduus’s chest before dropping down and driving her glass wrapped fists into his eye a few times. Standing up she reaches down and aggressively yanks Viduus to his feet. She places Viduus’s head between her legs, in a powerbomb set up. Viduus quickly uses a last hope of desperation and lifts backwards, dropping her back first upon the steel ring steps.
VASSA: ”That may have been Viduus’s last line of defense?”
JOHNSON: ”Either way, it gave him a bit of recovering time, because Sativa has been like a rabid dog these past few moments!”
As Viduus drops to a knee, he looks over at Sativa rolling around in pain. Viduus begins to unwrap one of his fists as he stands, reaching down and grabbing the singapore cane. He takes the wrap and begins wrapping the cane with the hand wrap. As Sativa comes to both knees, Viduus cocks the singapore cane above his head and drives it down upon her cranium, causing the glass shards to dig into her skull. He pulls back and tears flesh pieces an strands of hair from her head as she falls back to the ground.
JOHNSON: ”This match has been just as innovative as it has been bloody!”
VASSA: ”What in the hell did you expect? With the bad blood these two have they just want to think of how to do the most damage to each other possible!”
Viduus unwraps the wrapping from the kendo stick and lifts Sativa to a knee. He begins wrapping it around Sativa’s face with the glass shards facing inside toward her flesh. After wrapping her face up like a mummy, Viduus begins to fire blows upon the wrapping, frantically. Shot after shot, causing the color crimson to bleed through the wraps. As Viduus cocks back to fire one last shot, Sativa extends her arm outward and delivers a desperation low-blow to Viduus, causing him to buckle and fall to the ground. With Viduus on the ground, Sativa painfully unravels the wrap from her lacerated face, tearing the shards across her face. She drops down onto Viduus and hovers over him with blood leaking from her wounds, dripping down upon Viduus’s mouth and eyes. Sativa begins laughing and trash talking over Viduus as she pulls him toward her by his dreadlocks before drilling her cranium directly into his.

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT, Shades of Fight Club!! COME ON LOU, LET US STAY!!!”
JOHNSON: ”Sativa Nevaeh is as deranged as they come!”
Sativa reaches out to the camera man to her side, gripping the camera and tearing it from his hands. She points it at her face and laughs into it before smashing it against Viduus Morta’s face. Dropping the camera to the side, she painfully climbs to her feet and clenches Viduus by his dreadlocks. She lifts Viduus to his feet and takes a couple paces over to the apron, rolling him into the ring. As Viduus rolls around in pain, clutching his groin, Sativa goes under the apron once more and starts randoming pulling things out from under the ring, sliding them in through the bottom rope. First comes a steel chair, followed by a ‘One Way’ sign. The randomizing continues as she chucks an ironing board into the ring, followed by a mop bucket.
VASSA: ”I’m excited, I can’t wait to see this assortment of weapons get put to the test!”
JOHNSON: ”I just wonder what thoughts could be spinning through that demented mind of hers?”
Sativa slides into the ring as Viduus climbs to a knee. Sativa slaps him in the face and laughs about it. Looking at Viduus, he gives her a wink and laughs about it as well. This causes Sativa to go into rage as she begins digging into the side of his cheek with her wraps. Sativa then grabs the mop bucket and slams it onto Viduus’s head upside down so it stays in position and leaves him unable to see. She reaches down and picks up the steel chair, lifting it over her head and cracking it down across Viduus Morta’s head. Viduus drops to the mat as Sativa quickly hops onto him for the pin.

Somehow Viduus rolls a shoulder off the mat, causing Sativa to pull herself to both knees exhausted and shout at the official in anger. Sativa slowly pulls herself to her feet and stumbles forward, grabbing the ring ropes. Making her way to the corner. Viduus painfully pushes the mop bucket from his head as Sativa ascends the ropes. Facing away from Viduus, Sativa makes it to the top rope and flips backward looking to connect a Leaf On The Wind. As Sativa lands, Viduus rolls away at the last second, using his arm to push the mop bucket directly where she lands. Sativa crashes stomach first upon the mop bucket, breaking it. She rolls around in pain gripping at her stomach as Viduus uses the ropes as a crutch to stand up.
JOHNSON: ”How in the hell can these two keep getting back up?”
VASSA: ”It’s because both of them are determined to destroy one another, Steve! It’s fucking South Beach Brawl, neither of them are going out like a chump!”
Viduus begins motioning his hand in a sense of rage, begging Sativa to stand as she starts gripping her hands into the ring mat, pulling herself slowly to her feet. As Sativa stands to her feet, Viduus grips at her wrist and tosses her into the ropes. He rushes toward the opposite end of the ropes as she rebounds and hits a Soul Reaper, sending them both flying back outside the ring through the middle rope and through the table that was prepped for the hand wrapping in the beginning of the match. Viduus rolls onto his back for a moment, but then slowly rolls back onto his stomach and drops his arm over Sativa for a pin.

Somehow Sativa rolls a shoulder and kicks out. Viduus slowly sits up and shakes his head in disappointment before climbing to his feet. He limps around and rests for a moment as Sativa rolls onto her stomach. Viduus walks over to Sativa and reaches down to lift her by the hair, but as he does Sativa takes a handful of the crushed glass shards previously dumped upon the ground, and tosses them back into his face. Blinded Viduus begins swinging his arms frantically and staggering around as Sativa crawls away. As Sativa slowly makes it to her feet, she looks back and sees Viduus coming forward in her direction still somewhat blinded. Sativa jerks back, coming off of her feet and connecting a Nerf This! Pele Kick.
VASSA: ”NERF THIS!!! That’s got to be it for Viduus!”
JOHNSON: ”All I know is we better have magical medical staff on standby when this match ends, Vassa!”
Sativa climbs to a knee and looks over at Viduus who is motionless. With a smirk on her face, she doesn’t go for a pin. Instead Sativa slowly pulls herself to her feet and reaches down, gripping Viduus by his dreadlocks. She begins to drag Viduus, painfully limping past the palm trees toward the water front. As she drags Viduus behind her, Sativa begins whistling ‘I’m Sailing Away’. Pulling Viduus by his dreadlocks, she drags him off the platform and down the rocky slope toward the water. Viduus tries using his weight to stop her, but she stops and kicks him in the face a few times before pulling him into Biscayne Bay. Sativa rolls Viduus over and hovers over him, beginning to forcefully push his head under in water. Viduus begins kicking and flapping his arms and legs as Sativa struggles, still keeping his head submerged.
JOHNSON: ”Sativa Nevaeh is trying to drown Viduus!! Somebody get fucking security over there!”
VASSA: ”Well, there are no rules, so I guess drowning your opponent is perfectly legal?”
Viduus continues to kick around, finally breaking Sativa’s hold. As he starts to push away Sativa lunges forward and dives onto him. The two begin to tussle and not much can be seen for a moment. After a small amount of speculation, Sativa emerges and frantically looks around. Reaching back and forth in the water looking for Viduus. Viduus pops up behind her with a stone gripped in his hand, and smashes her in the back of the head with it. Sativa staggers forward, groggy from the hit, making her way back to the rock filled slope. As she does Viduus painfully stalks behind her and reaches out, locking her in a reverse DDT set-up. Lifting Sativa into the air in somewhat a reverse brainbuster, he drills her down head first onto the jagged rocks below with The Awakening. As both competitors fall beaten and limp, Viduus lands on Sativa, as the official makes the count.

JOHNSON: ”What a brutal match! Viduus Morta may have won, but I don’t even think he’s conscious enough to celebrate!”
VASSA: ”Talk about a will not to give up!! Ever since Winter Wasteland we have been seeing nothing but the most extreme when it comes to this title and we’ve seen it here yet again tonight!”
The official walks over to both competitors and starts to help a semi conscious Viduus Morta to his feet. The medics start coming out of the woodwork. As the official hands Viduus the 4CW Extreme Championship, he hoists it into air but quickly falls back down to the rocks.
The medics begin to attend to both Viduus and Sativa as the scene cuts.

Cut backstage to a door. The name plate on the door reads “Perry Wallace.” A couple seconds pass by and the door opens and out steps your Hero and mine, Adrian Tanner Junior. He steps out in the backstage proper, shutting the door behind with a wry smile on his lips. As he shuts the door, NEXTWAVE co-founder and member Cecil Kennedy walks up to his side.
KENNEDY: ”How’d it go?”
TANNER: ”Better than I expected, honestly.”
KENNEDY: ”So it’s a go then…?”
TANNER: ”Oh it’s a go alright. As soon as that fucker walked into the arena Wallace gave the okay.”
Adrian grins.
KENNEDY: ”Excellent. I can’t wait to see his face.”
TANNER: ”Me either, man. Me either.”
KENNEDY: ”Hey speaking of, I had a few ideas to run by you.”
TANNER: ”Go for it.”
Cecil glances at the camera, then back at Adrian.
KENNEDY: ”Somewhere more private, maybe? Don’t wanna spoil the fun.”
Now it’s Cecil turn to grin. Adrian chuckles, nodding his head.
TANNER: ”Heh, right on. We better hurry, I dunno how long we have before it goes down.”
The Arizona Assassin motions for his brother and best friend to lead the way and they head off to make ALL THE PLANS!~ as the camera cuts elsewhere.


The picture transitions to sectioned off stretch of Biscayne Boulevard just outside of Bayfront Park. The street is empty for the most part except for a few city vehicles overseeing the event and an ambulance on standby. The sides of the street are blocked off from the park, separating the fans from urban warzone.
VASSA: ”The time has finally come. Cyrus Riddle and Dakota Smith will finally clash head to head.”
JOHNSON: ”This has been one hell of a rivalry over the last couple of months following Cyrus’ return at All Or Nothing, costing Dakota his XTV Championship in a match against Sativa.”
VASSA: ”These two are brothers! It started way before All Or Nothing. At Adrenaline Fifty Dakota struck Cyrus in the back of the head with a hammer per Perry’s orders. This has been in the works for nearly a year.”
JOHNSON: ”Cyrus got his revenge somewhat in his return as he returned the favor to Dakota and laid him out with a hammer.”
VASSA: ”Since then, it’s been absolute carnage and bloodshed between these two.”
JOHNSON: ”They’ll have their chance to settle the score here tonight at South beach Brawl in this last man standing street fight!”
VASSA: ”Oh look, he comes Cyrus to the battlefield.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s one half of this contest.”
Walking from around the corner of one of the buildings, Cyrus appears on the scene. Walking cautiously, he scans the area as he walks out into the open, searching for Dakota. Stopping in front of the ambulance, Cyrus leans against the vehicle, crossing his arms as his eyes drift upward to the skyscrapers and then back to the road, searching for Dakota.
VASSA: ”Cyrus came back with a vengeance! He’s bulked up some and came out swinging hard in his return.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s hit some bumps along the way, thanks to Dakota, but overall he has a different demeanor to him, darker than usual.”
VASSA: ”Betrayal will do that to you. He and Dakota were brothers. Even before their days in 4CW, those two were Omerta and it all came to an end the night Dakota turned his back on him.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s nothing to stop these two tonight. This fight will go on for as long as needed until one man is unable to get back up to his feet.”
Startling Cyrus, the ambulances engine fires up as he whips around. Staring through the glass of the windshield, Cyrus locks eyes with the man he’s been searching for.
JOHNSON: ”He’s been there this whole time!”
With an evil grin across his face, Dakota throws the shift column into drive and then slams his foot down onto the pedal.

The ambulance accelerates forward as Cyrus quickly reacts and jumps onto the hood, stretching his arms out and holding onto the sides as his feet plant down onto the bumper. The ambulance roars down Biscayne Boulevard as Dakota drives like a madman behind the wheel. Laughing hysterically, he cuts the wheel, aiming the ambulance straight for a palm tree in the center of the road separating both directions of travel. Looking behind him, Cyrus spots what’s incoming and before you know it, he leaps to the side, hitting the pavement and rolling out of harms way.

The ambulance crashes head on into a palm tree, coming to a dead stop. Instantly, the airbag bursts out of the steering wheel as Dakota’s head slams against it. Smoke begins to pour from underneath the hood of the ambulance as the driver door opens.
VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ! Dakota is trying to kill himself.”
JOHNSON: ”I believe he was trying to take Cyrus out but his planned has certainly backfired.”
Dropping out of the ambulance, Dakota falls to his hands and knees. Blood drips down to the road, coming from his mouth and the wound caused from the impact of the crash. Crawling away from the ambulance slowly, Dakota already shows signs of bodily damage from not wearing his seat belt during the joyride. He then comes to a stop, looking straight to the ground and at Cyrus’ feet a few inches in front of him.
JOHNSON: ”There’s Cyrus! This isn’t a good way for Dakota to start things off here tonight.”
VASSA: ”He’s already roughed himself up with that crash. Cyrus has him right where he wants him.”
Grabbing onto Dakota’s head, Cyrus holds it in place before kicking his leg up and driving his knee into Dakota’s face, flipping him over to his back. Dakota spits a mouthful of blood onto the pavement as Cyrus steps over him. Pulling Dakota up to his feet, Cyrus then slams him against the side of the ambulance. Swinging at Dakota’s midsection, Cyrus connects with a two punch combo, knocking the breath from The Butcher’s lungs. He then traps Dakota’s arms with his and begins ramming his head forward, knocking Dakota right between the eyes with repeated headbutts.
Instead of being knocked into a daze, Dakota laughs in Cyrus face before slamming his head forward and hitting Cyrus with a headbutt of his own, breaking his grip. Dakota then reaches upward and wraps his hand around the back of Cyrus’ head before stepping out of the way and slamming Cyrus face first into the ambulance. Staggering backwards, Cyrus can barely keep his balance, leaving himself open as Dakota rushes in and hits him with a forearm to the nose. Spinning Cyrus around, Dakota wraps his arms around his waist before lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the side of the ambulance with a German suplex.
VASSA: ”By the time these two are finished here tonight that ambulance is only going to be good for salvaging parts.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s already a total wreck and the engine is smoking. That vehicles next stop will be the junk yard.”
Back on his feet, Dakota wipes the blood from his mouth before flinging it onto Cyrus. He then pulls Cyrus up from the road. Holding Cyrus in place with his left hand, Dakota draws back his right before connecting with a vicious fist to the jaw. Cyrus’ head and body whip around before he stumbles forward. Walking away from Dakota, Cyrus creates some distance between the two as he heads for the opposite side of Biscayne Boulevard from the park.
Following closely behind, Dakota watches Cyrus as he heads towards the buildings along the side of the street. Growing tired of stalking, Dakota charges towards Cyrus, running up behind him. Hearing the footsteps get closer and closer behind him, Cyrus turns around just as Dakota closes in, side stepping him and then pushing him forward. Tripping over the curb, Dakota crashes down onto the sidewalk, slamming his shoulder against the cement. Pushing himself up to all fours, Dakota favors his shoulder. Rushing in, Cyrus kicks his foot upward into Dakota’s face, punting him and forcing him to flip over to his back.
Pulling Dakota up, Cyrus then goes to whip him into the large glass window of the building beside them. Just as Cyrus goes to release, Dakota reverses and whips Cyrus into the glass instead. Crashing into the thick pane of glass, Cyrus comes to a complete stop as a large crack forms behind him across the glass. Dakota then rushes in and lunges forward. Rolling to the side against the glass, Cyrus dodges Dakota, leaving The Butcher to slam into the glass head first. Turning away from the window in Cyrus direction, Dakota is suddenly caught off guard as Cyrus moves in and hits him with three European uppercuts in a row.
Latching onto Dakota’s wrist, Cyrus then pulls him in and drops him to his back with a short-arm clothesline. Not letting go, Cyrus pulls Dakota back to his feet and into another short-arm clothesline that drops him flat on his back once more. He then pulls Dakota up but before he can make his next move, Dakota fires away with rapid body blows. Raising his arm into the air, Cyrus then slams it down, driving his elbow into Dakota’s spine and dropping him to his knee. Grabbing Dakota’s head and tilting it upward to face him, Cyrus holds it in place before swinging with his other arm and connecting with a power punch to Dakota’s mouth.
JOHNSON: ”Cyrus is going to break his hand hitting Dakota so hard.”
VASSA: ”They already broke an ambulance. Look at the sheet of glass in that window behind them. That’s ruined. The damage bill is going to be expensive by the time this whole event is over with.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s another fist to the mouth!”
Cyrus hits Dakota with another solid punch to the mouth, this time covering the pavement beside them in blood as the shoots from Dakota’s mouth. In a daze, Dakota blindly swings upward while bursting to his feet. His punch lands directly under Cyrus’ chin, knocking him back a step. Dakota then kicks Cyrus in the stomach, forcing him to buckle over. Dakota then begins raining down on Cyrus’ back with right and left forearms. In desperation, Cyrus wraps Dakota around the waist as The Butcher continues to pound away at his back. Using all of his strength, Cyrus begins to lift Dakota off his feet while taking a beating. With Dakota in the air swinging wildly onto his back, Cyrus then begins to walk forward. With each step he picks up the pace despite the beating Dakota delivers from above. With one last burst of energy, Cyrus pulls Dakota down, slamming him into and through the glass with a spinebuster.

VASSA: ”Holy fucking shit!”
The pane of glass explodes as Dakota’s body slams through it before crashing down to the floor of the hotel lobby on the other side. Piece of glass cover the entire scene both in and out of the building. Slowly pushing himself up, Cyrus surveys the damage done before back stepping and exiting the room. Rolling across the glass, Dakota’s back is covered in blood from the shards piercing his skin. With a smirk on his face, Cyrus steps back into the room and grabs both of Dakota’s feet. He then drags him across the glass, cutting him even more as his body passes over each broken piece.
JOHNSON: ”That’s disgusting! Almost as disgusting as the Taipei Deathmatch earlier.”
VASSA: ”I don’t know who owns that building but I can bet they’re going to be pissed.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s a hotel and I don’t think either man has a reservation tonight.”
VASSA: ”To hell with a reservation! Who’s going to get in the middle of these two?”
Dakota’s blood smears across the floor of the lobby as Cyrus drags him from one end to the other. Not far from the two, a water fountain is the center attraction of the lobby. Dragging Dakota over to it, Cyrus continues to paint the floor with Dakota’s blood. He then pulls Dakota up to his knees and turns him around to face the fountain. Grabbing onto Dakota’s head with both hands, Cyrus then presses Dakota’s head down, submerging it into the pool of water. Dakota fights wildly to break free as the clear water begins to turn crimson. After nearly a minute, Cyrus pulls Dakota’s head up from the water. Gasping for air, Dakota takes in deep breaths as the blood stained water drips down from his face and to his chest.
JOHNSON: ”Cyrus is going to drown Dakota.”
VASSA: ”Good luck with that. Jair tried the same thing last year here in Biscayne Bay but the Butcher still stands. Fire won’t kill him either. If there’s one way for Dakota to be killed, I will bet that Cyrus knows exactly what it is.”
JOHNSON: ”The hotel manager is furious! Everyone inside the lobby is terrified.”
VASSA: ”He may be furious but I doubt he steps in to break things up.”
Standing behind Dakota and holding his head in place for Dakota to look up at him, Cyrus then swings down with his right hand, driving his fist into Dakota’s face. He then grabs onto Dakota’s head with both hands before pressing his head back beneath the crimson water. Planting both hands onto the retaining wall of the fountain, Dakota pushes away with all of his strength but it just isn’t enough to overpower Cyrus. After a minute, Dakota’s fight dies down to a light struggle. Feeling the life slip away from Dakota, Cyrus then pulls his head back up from the water and tilts it upward to look Dakota in the eyes.
VASSA: ”I’ve never seen someone breath as heavily as that in my life!”
JOHNSON: ”I take it that you’ve never looked at yourself in the mirror after climbing a flight of stairs?”
JOHNSON: ”I’m only kidding, calm down.”
Cyrus then pulls Dakota to his feet before dragging him a few feet away from the fountain. Stepping in between Dakota and the fountain, Cyrus drives his knee upward into Dakota’s stomach, forcing the Butcher to lunge over as the air he fought to fill his lungs with is taken away. Cyrus then locks his arm around Dakota’s head and hooks his leg. Lifting Dakota into the air, Cyrus drops his back across the top of the retaining wall with a fisherman’s suplex, nearly snapping him in half like a twig.
VASSA: ”London Bridge!”
JOHNSON: ”Without the bridge.”
VASSA: ”That could have broken Dakota’s back.”
As Cyrus releases Dakota, he rolls away, leaving Dakota hanging over the retaining wall. Dakota’s head touches the floor as his feet extend out into the water. Appearing unconscious, the official steps onto the scene and begins the ten count.
“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”People have tried drowning him, they’ve even tried burning him alive. Now let’s see if breaking him in half will do the trick.”
“Four! … Five!”

VASSA: ”I think he’s gone…”
Cyrus rises to his feet, looking on as the official continues counting.
“Six! … Seven!”

Showing signs of life, Dakota rolls over to his side before completely pulling his feet from the water and dropping down to the lobby floor.

Grabbing onto the retaining wall, Dakota slowly begins to pull himself up.

Struggling along the way, Dakota finally manages to stand tall, barely on his own, stopping the officials count.
JOHNSON: ”Dakota is back on his feet and Cyrus doesn’t look surprised by that one bit.”
VASSA: ”If anyone knows what Dakota is capable of it’s Cyrus. He knows Dakota better than anyone else.”
Cyrus then charges towards Dakota full speed. As he closes in, Dakota ducks down and drives his shoulder forward into Cyrus’ midsection as he swings and misses overhead. Lifting Cyrus off his feet and using his momentum, Dakota flips him up and over his head, dropping Cyrus onto his back as he splashes into the body of water of the fountain. Dropping to his knees, Dakota’s body is weak. The waves of water splash behind him as Cyrus pushes himself up. He then stands tall, stepping behind Dakota but still standing in the water. Reaching down, Cyrus grabs Dakota by the shoulders and pulls him up to his feet. Instantly, Dakota throws an elbow back, hitting Cyrus in the mouth with it and knocking him back a step.
Whipping around, Dakota then jumps over the retaining wall and into the bloody water. Throwing a right punch, he hits Cyrus in the throat with it, cutting off his air supply. Grabbing Cyrus by the back of the head, Dakota then slams his face into the fountain where the water flows above the pool below. Pressing both hands onto the back of Cyrus’ head, Dakota then drags his face back and forth against the hard surface. As if holding a thumb over the end of a water hose, Cyrus’ face forces the water to shoot in all directions as it exits the fountain. Dakota then pulls him away from it before stepping in beside him and dropping him into the water with a Russian leg sweep.
Climbing to his feet, Dakota begins stomping on Cyrus as his body rolls in the crimson water. He then reaches down and pulls Cyrus to his feet. Wrapping his hand around Cyrus’ throat, Dakota then lifts him into the air before throwing him forward with a choke toss. As Cyrus travels through the air backwards, his legs clip the retaining wall, forcing his body to spin backwards before he crashes to the lobby floor. Stepping over the retaining wall, Dakota wraps his hand around Cyrus throat once more. This time he begins dragging Cyrus across the lobby floor and back towards the broken window.
Dragging Cyrus across the shards of broken glass, Dakota laughs hysterically before pulling Cyrus up to his feet. Cyrus’ back is now covered in blood from multiple cuts across his back from the glass. The floor, now covered in a mixture of his and Dakota’s blood. Holding Cyrus in place, Dakota hits him in the chops with a European uppercut before slamming his head forward and hitting Cyrus with a headbutt. Grabbing onto his with his other hand and now holding him with both, Dakota pulls Cyrus body down as he lifts his leg up and drives his knee into his chest. With Cyrus now lunged over, Dakota grips around the back of Cyrus’ neck and grabs the back of his pants waistband. Pulling Cyrus away from the mess of broken glass, the two approach a glass door beside the broken front window. As they close in, Dakota throws Cyrus forward, sending him head first into glass door.

VASSA: ”Oh fuck!”
The glass of the door shatters into hundreds of pieces as Cyrus bursts through to the other side. On his hands and knees, Cyrus crawls away from the mess and up the sidewalk. His head is now busted open and bleeding all over the cement beneath him. Stepping through the hollow door with shards of glass lining the frame, Dakota exits the hotel while waving goodbye to those watching behind him inside of the lobby. Looking up the sidewalk, Dakota watches as Cyrus gets further and further away, traveling alongside Biscayne Boulevard.
Approaching an unattended police cruiser, Cyrus begins to push himself up to his feet. Just as he stands, Dakota is right there behind him to deliver a vicious strike to the kidney. Dakota then grabs Cyrus by the head and throws him forward.

Cyrus’ head collides into the passenger side mirror of the police cruiser, detaching it from the vehicle and sending it rolling up the sidewalk. Grabbing onto Cyrus from behind with both hands, Dakota jerks him up to his feet only to get taken by surprise as Cyrus throws an elbow back, hitting him in the eye with it. Cyrus then whips around and punches Dakota in the stomach before grabbing onto his head with both hands. Pulling Dakota’s head away from the cruise, he then slams it forward and into the front passenger window.

The window doesn’t break. Cyrus then pulls Dakota’s head away from it even further than before and slams it back into it with all of his might.

This time, Dakota’s head shatters the window as half his body goes inside of the cruiser. Wiping the blood from his face, Cyrus then grabs onto Dakota and pulls him back out of the cruiser. Before Dakota is pulled out, The Butcher grabs the computer attached to the dash and rips it away. As Cyrus pulls him out, Dakota then spins around and takes a swing for Cyrus’s head. Ducking as the computer passes by his head, Cyrus dodges the blow and returns the favor with an elbow to Dakota’s stomach. He then pops up and rips the laptop from Dakota’s hands. Kicking Dakota in the stomach, Cyrus knocks him up against the side of the cruiser. He then takes a swing for the fences.

The laptop breaks into pieces as it collides into Dakota’s head. Still on his feet, Dakota leans against the cruiser, barely even conscious.
JOHNSON: ”First an ambulance, then a hotel, and now a police car… Perry is going to have quite a few questions to answer in the morning.”
VASSA: ”I’m sure the party will still be going too.”
JOHNSON: ”These two have completely destroyed anything in their sights alongside Biscayne Boulevard.”
VASSA: ”Urban warfare.”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t see how both men are still going at this point.”
Pulling Dakota away from the side of the cruiser, Cyrus then drags him to the front of the car before rolling him onto the hood. With Dakota’s body stretched across the top of the hood and his head hanging over the side, Cyrus drops an elbow down across Dakota’s throat. He then climbs onto the hood himself. Pulling Dakota up from the hood, Cyrus then wraps him up before lifting him into the air and throwing him over onto the top of the cab with a T-bone suplex. Cyrus lands on the windshield but doesn’t cause any damage as Dakota moans from above where the lights stretching from one side to the other dig into his back.
Pushing himself back up, Cyrus leaves a bloody imprint across the windshield. He then climbs onto the top of the cab before stomping on Dakota’s body. Stepping towards the front of the roof, Cyrus pulls Dakota to his knees. Grabbing onto the lights, Dakota rips them away, detaching them from the cruiser. He then swings the lights up and over his head, hitting Cyrus in the face with them. Cyrus takes a step back, in a daze but still up. Dakota then pops to his feet and spins around, swinging the lights with all of his might.

As if hitting a homerun, Dakota connects with the lights to the side of Cyrus’ head. The long light fixture snaps in half as one end flies to the streets and glides across the boulevard. Amazingly, Cyrus doesn’t fall back but rather drops down to both knees. The side of his head is covered in blood. With the other half of the lights still in his hand, Dakota grabs Cyrus by the head and begins slamming the strobes into his forehead, completely destroying what’s left of the police cruiser lights. With nothing left in his hand to hit Cyrus with, Dakota then pulls him up to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Cyrus’ head, Dakota then hooks one of Cyrus’ legs.
VASSA: ”I think I know what’s coming next.”
JOHNSON: ”So do I and at this point it may possibly be overkill.”
Dakota then lifts Cyrus into the air for a fisherman’s suplex but once Cyrus reaches his highest point, Dakota transitions the move into a sit-out powerbomb, slamming Cyrus onto and through the windshield of the police cruiser.

JOHNSON: ”Deadman Wonderland!”
VASSA: ”Holy shit, right through the windshield of that five-oh.”
JOHNSON: ”Oh man, that police cruiser is destroyed!”
Cyrus’ body is folded over on the dash of the cruiser, covered in glass and the blood of him and Dakota. As Dakota leans up to an upright seated position, the official on the ground beside the cruiser begins the ten count.
“One! … Two! … Three!”

Wiping the blood from his eyes, but smearing it over his face, Dakota grins as he looks down at the mess before him.
“Four! … Five! … Six!”

Dakota then turns his body, hanging his legs over the side of the cruiser.
“Seven! … Eight! … Nine!”

Dropping down to the road, Dakota stands tall as the official makes the final count.

JOHNSON: ”There it is folks, Dakota Smith has finally put Cyrus down for the ten count.”
VASSA: ”It’s been a battle leading up to this night for both men but this was an all out war and Dakota came out victorious.”
JOHNSON: ”These two men destroyed everything in sight on Biscayne Boulevard, including the inside of that hotel.”
VASSA: ”I’m pretty sure Perry is going to enjoy paying for the damages tonight because I can only imagine how outrageous the bill is going to be.”
With Cyrus still laid out, Dakota opens the driver door to the police cruiser. He ducks down and reaches inside as Mike Powers makes the official announcement over the speakers.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner… DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”
Inside the cruiser, Dakota inspects Cyrus unconscious body before grabbing the microphone for the radio. The camera angle changes to a shot from in front of the cruiser, looking through the broken windshield. Raising the mic to his lips, Dakota presses the button, communicating with the local precinct frequency.
SMITH: ”We have a one eighty-seven on Biscayne Boulevard at Bayfront Park. Call the morgue.”
Dakota then drops the mic and looks to Cyrus one last time. He runs his fingers across Cyrus head, smearing his blood. Pulling his hand away, Dakota then sniffs the blood before tasting it himself as he licks his fingers. He then pulls himself out of the cruiser and turns his back to it all. Walking alongside Biscayne Boulevard, Dakota then turns to an alley between two buildings, disappearing into the shadows.

The scene pans backstage which you know, is almost non existent seeing that the Brawl is completely outside. Regardless, a small fog is seen with a figure standing in the middle. The figure can’t be made out but an ominous feeling grips the scene as a small little conniving laugh can be heard. The laugh persists briefly before a pause. The pause is brief, too, before we can hear the figure speak.
FIGURE: ”Look at all you low lying peasants. Nothing has fucking changed here since my untimely demise….if you want to call it that. I look around and I see the same god damn thing and the landscape of 4CW has never been more dully original.”
The figure sighs as a small ominous wind blows in the background. The scene keeps an eerie stance as the figure remains unidentified as he speaks up once again.
FIGURE: ”Heh…it’s all the same and in a way, that makes me completely furious because I could have taken 4CW for myself in a matter of a short time. You have the same old Wallace, the pain in the ass fisher price Lord Raab, and a generic Jason Cashe that hasn’t changed him only by putting a fucking mask on him.
I’ve sat back in the shadows and watched this regime stay in the fold by the same cliché antics and quite frankly, it’s yesterdays news. I put the word regime on the fucking map and no matter what has happened to me over time, I’ve always been an attraction no matter where I’ve been. Times have definitely changed, though, because it seems like a new wind is rising…and no, it has nothing to do with the first light on the fifth day from the East.”
As the voice of the figure becomes more eerily, the wind makes a howling noise before something on the figure is seen blowing from side to side. It’s not known what it is but at first guess it appears like it could have been a jacket of a trench coat of some kind. The figure laughs methodically before speaking once again.
FIGURE: ”People have been speculating what happened to me. Rumors of my death started making the rounds and there were so many death rumors, it almost turned me into a man of mythical rumor. All it took was for me to fall off the face of the earth, fall to my demise, or my death mind you, to turn me into a martyr. I assure you, I shall return from the ashes and cause a fire of the century. I will burn 4CW to the fucking ground and that fire will start on the 100th edition of Adrenaline! The end of 4CW is nigh and my limelight will return to me again! There will be no warning, there will be no heads up and none of you will see it coming….you didn’t the first time and you certainly won’t this time…
I will pick up where I left off and I will shroud all of you in eternal darkness! The fire will rise and the smoke will consume the lungs of the weak for I am your doom and I am your Prin—”
All of a sudden, the figure is cut off as a field of fog fills the scene. The next thing we hear is a loud obnoxious cough coming from the figure and all of a sudden, this terrifying, ominous scene, takes a completely lighthearted, not giving a flying shit turn as the figure is now addressed in this show as a completely different person who now finally reacts to the overdone fog.
ANONYMOUS: ”SON OF A FUCK! Who the fuck overuses fog machines?! Jesus fucking Christ I pay someone for ONE job…..ONE fucking job and it turns into something out of a terrible B horror movie. Before I completely go off on a tangent let me make something perfectly clear. I’m still toying with this gimmick and I only will refer to myself in the third fucking person but that doesn’t start for another two weeks so this dialogue will actually make sense for this one week only.
But seriously, in all seriousness you all seriously need to consider the seriousness of this serious situation you all should have already found yourselves in. What kind of a regime can seriously be ran by a dumbass mother fucker who hasn’t changed since the last time I surfaced in 4CW? What kind of a regime can seriously allow a seriously flawed overdone Royal Family that belongs in a renaissance fair than a wrestling federation? I mean, I can’t even take myself seriously for fucks sakes and that’s normal to me.”
The figure now known as who the fuck is this guy keeps his stance solid and his identity sealed. He doesn’t move from the spot that is keeping who he is shrouded. A humming sound can be heard as the fuck is this guy doesn’t pause for long.
ANONYMOUS: ”God damn this segment is seriously coming off like a god damn Christmas holiday and its making my eyes bleed! You want to know how seriously I take 4CW? You want to know how much of a fuck I give about my status in this company or the things I have done or want to do in this company? I’ll tell you…the answer is simple. Spoiler alert, I have never taken this seriously like all of you seriously should. So you want to know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make sure that my intentions come off very firm and clear and I mean as firm as grabbing Cashe’s balls and foddling them.
Tonight, you all are about to find out and witness firsthand what I have always wanted to do since returning to 4CW the first time. This time, I’m going to get my point across. At the 100th show, I will reveal to the world just who the fuck I am. I’m going to return to 4CW and continue what I should have started from the very beginning and that is just not caring or giving a flying fuck. Believe me, I’ve found it works out a lot better that way. Why didn’t I figure that out from the start? Jesus, I’m getting caught up in my own tangents aren’t I? Alright, alright. Enough of my babbling truths and serious threats. I would like to take this opportunity to show you just how much I care about what anyone thinks about what I will do in 4CW. I am going to send a direct message of my intentions in 4CW right now by showing that I can do what I want, when I want to. So without further adieu I will leave you all with a little comic relief of our so called fearless leader of 4CW and just how easy it is to fuck with him. Until 100 my fellow….whatever the fuck you want to call yourselves.”
The scene all of a sudden cuts to a different part of the Brawl location where we see Perry Wallace drinking from a plastic cup. He seems to be enjoying himself as he takes a drink, no, chugs his entire drink from his cup. A few moments pass by before Perry lets out a load belching burp and actually garners attention from other patrons as he busts out laughing.
But Perry’s fun is short lived as he starts to stumble all over the place and looks confused as fuck as his vision is instantly blurred. He starts mumbling but no one can understand a god damn thing he’s saying as he’s mumbling on like a bubbling idiot. As Perry starts to realize what has happened to him, the only thing he can get out are the very three words he mutters when he knows he was fucked in some capacity.
Wallace then proceeds to fall flat on his face unconscious as those around him begin to wonder what had happened to him as it becomes apparent that someone had slipped some acid into his drink. No one knows exactly what happened or that this came out of nowhere but as people begin to ask questions, the scene slowly fades to black as the show returns to the ring before showing on screen a very firm message.

JOHNSON ”What a great night it’s been so far. From pre-show all the way until now!
VASSA: “There is still more to go tonight, too! This stacked card hasn’t even reached it’s fucking peak yet!”
JOHNSON: “Let’s not forget about the Pride Championship rematch and the main event between 4CW Champion Elijah Carlson and Bronx Valescence!”
VASSA: “It’s like every event gets more competitive and more hyped. This years South Beach Brawl is no exception, Johnson.”
JOHNSON: “Well — What the hell?”
The camera cuts over to the announcers station, where Johnny Evil is leaning over the announce table, in Steve Johnson’s face. As the camera zooms in, the conversation is heard…
EVIL: “Are you fucking kidding me, Johnson?? I pulled an upset on Genie??”
Johnson looks over at Vassa who rolls his chair out a bit as if to make a statement saying he’s not involved in this. Johnson looks back at Evil as Evil points at himself.
EVIL: “I told everybody I was going to fucking beat that cunt, but you much like every single one of these ignorant pussies hate to admit the truth!!”
Johnson puts his hands up, shrugging baffled as if to avoid the confrontation…
EVIL: “People don’t see shit for what it really is. I’m a fucking threat!! I might not have beat Bronx in the finals, but I’m just as much of a threat for Elijah Carlson’s fucking 4CW Championship as Bronx is!! How much fucking damage am I’m going to have to do, how many fucking people do I have to beat?? When in the fuck has attitude ever outweighed fucking talent! None of you mother fuckers have to like me, I don’t care about all that, but it’s time this fucking company wakes up and faces the facts!!”
Johnson looks away for a moment, still trying to avoid conflict…
EVIL: “Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you, you old ass sack of shit!!!”
As Johnson turns to look at Evil, Evil reaches over and grabs Johnson by his collar, backhanding hard as fuck with his freehand, knocking the sweat from Johnson’s brow across the camera lens. This causes the fans to roar with a heightened state of boos due to the distasteful acts from Evil.
EVIL: “You wanna’ insult me??”
Johnny grips Johnson’s collar and pulls him over the commentary table as the boo’s only seem to get louder, filtering the park. The reaction soon turns to a Fuck You, Johnny chant as Evil gives Johnson a few slaps to the back of the head before letting him drop to the floor right at Johnny’s feet.
EVIL: “Like it or not, it’s only a matter of time… I’m going to be your 4CW Champion!! Then all of you can eat shit with your fucking doubts and skepticism!!”
Johnny reaches down and grips Johnson’s wrist as he begins to drag him from the commentary section out onto the stage entrance. Johnny lifts Johnson to his feet who is winded and gasping for breath. Gripping Johnson by the back of the head he aims him toward the glass stage panel along the entrance set up and continues to talk shit. Evil gets ready to toss Johnson forward, head first into the glass but a huge ovation and roar is heard around the park as Adrian Tanner rushes through the entrance curtain and pushes Evil back, causing him to break his grip on Steve Johnson.
Standing in the way of the glass panel, Tanner makes motion with his hand, telling a Johnson who is holding his cheek to make his way back to the commentator team. Johnson slowly tries to crawl away as Evil looks over and goes to lunge forward to kick him in the face before he can come to all fours, but Tanner jumps forward and pushes Evil back, causing the audience to roar with more delight.
Evil smirks and puts his hands up as if to surrender, backing up a bit. Tanner looks over at Johnson to make sure he’s alright helping him to a stand. Tanner starts helping Johnson back to the commentators section as Evil slowly steps back furious.
As Tanner gets back to the commentary table, he gets a microphone from the stage hand as Evil looks on from the stage.
TANNER: “Evil, this shit that you’re doing, it’s gone on long enough. The company is fucking sick of it, these people are fucking sick of it, and most of all I’m fucking sick of it!! The time for handing out paper championships, cardboard cut-outs, and bobbleheads is over. It’s time we put the games aside. As granted by Perry Wallace, tonight we have a match, but it ain’t defending those belts…We’re going to give South Beach exactly what they want to see, it’s going to be me and you in an I Quit Match!!!”
Tanner looks around, smirking and embracing the reaction from the South Beach Brawl audience. Steve Johnson sits back down at the table, headset half on as he stares daggers at Evil on the stage. Tanner takes a second to glance back at Johnson and the announce table, then back at Evil.
TANNER: ”And I’d suggest you get ready you fuck, because it’s happening right now!”
The crowd goes wild at the announcement. Evil’s eyes threaten to bulge out of his skull, clearly not expecting that at all. Tanner drops the mic and slides into the ring, egging Evil on as the crowd roars in anticipation and approval.
VASSA: ”You alright, Steve?”
JOHNSON: ”…I will be. No thanks to you.”
VASSA: ”Sorry man, but if he had beaten us both up who would call the show?”
Johnson sighs heavily into the headset, then takes it off for a long moment, the camera briefly cutting back to the announce table showing him sitting back in his seat rubbing his cheek with his hand and taking deep breaths.
VASSA: ”Well, this thing is already a clusterfuck, but I’m excited. Get ’em Tanner!”
Referee rushes past Evil, who’s still crossing back and forth between shock and fuming anger on the stage, and rolls into the ring. Tanner continues egging Evil on inside the ring, now leaning against the ropes. Evil hesitantly starts to walk back down towards the ring area and the crowd’s cheers get louder. He gets 3/4’s of the way there, sees the crowd’s reaction, then waves both Tanner and the referee off, slowly backing up the ramp.
VASSA: ”Wait what, who the hell is that and where did he even come from?!”
As Evil continues to back up, shouting obscenities and other things at his World Tag Team Championship partner, another figure suddenly appears on the stage. He stops a few feet behind Evil, arms crossed with a smirk on his lips.
VASSA: ”Waitaminute! That’s-“
Evil bumps directly into the figure and jumps slightly, turning around to face the new comer.
Cecil Kennedy makes a fishy face at Evil as Evil’s eyes go wide again.
VASSA: ”-Cecil Kennedy! What the hell’s he doing out here?!”
JOHNSON: ’Supporting his friend I’m assuming.’ is what my partner would say if he were up to commentating standards. Ya doin’ alright, Steve?”
The camera briefly cuts once more to the announce table, showing Steve Johnson still trying to calm down.
VASSA: ”I’ll take that as a ‘maybe?”
Evil shouts something at Cecil then takes a swing at him, but Cecil ducks and rolls out of the way of the wild swing with a grin. Evil goes for another and Cecil ducks and moves again, strategically moving Evil closer to the ring with every dodge. Evil lunges at him for a third one and-
Almost gets flattened by an incoming Adrian Tanner Junior who takes the distraction to springboard out of the ring right at Evil. Evil manages to dodge the dive but Adrian lands on his feet, coming up so both members of NEXTWAVE are standing on either side of him. Evil glares at both men for a long moment… then makes like he’s gonna swing at Cecil again before quickly turning and swinging for Tanner instead-
Or he would’ve.
If Adrian hadn’t almost taken his head off with a SUPERKICK OUT OF NOWHERE!
VASSA: ”Welcome back to the game, Steve-o.”
JOHNSON: ”Thanks…”
Adrian grabs a dazed Evil by his hair and drags him the rest of the way down the ramp towards the ring, shoving him underneath the bottom rope. He and Cecil share a nod, and Cecil walks away but instead of heading back up the ramp he starts making his way over to the announce table!
VASSA: ”Oh good, it’s gonna be one of these types of matches.”
VASSA: ”…Then again, maybe having another voice in the booth wouldn’t be a terrible thing right now.”
Cecil sits down at the announce table, putting on an extra headset as Adrian rolls back into the ring and Referee calls for the bell.


KENNEDY: ”Fellas.”
VASSA: ”Welcome to the booth Miiiiiiister Kennedy. …Kennedy.”
KENNEDY: ”Kenne-please don’t. But thanks. You alright, Mister Johnson? Fuckass over there hit you pretty good.”
JOHNSON: ”I’ll live. So what, ah, what brings you down here today, Cecil?”
KENNEDY: ”Figured you guys could use a helping hand right now. AND I get to watch my brother beat the everloving shit outta his asshole tag team partner.”
VASSA: ”Win-win, right?”
KENNEDY: ”Hell yeah!”
Adrian rolls to his feet in the ring but as soon as he does Evil tackles him to the mat, peppering him with rights and lefts over and over again. Adrian kicks him away but Evil just dives right back with more punches. Tanner kicks him away again and this time has the forethought to roll back out to the floor. Evil gets to his feet in the ring and mocks Adrian, egging him on the way Adrian did earlier.
KENNEDY: ”This guy sure is something ain’t he?”
JOHNSON: ”That’s a polite way of putting it.”
VASSA: ”By ‘something’ you of course mean ‘a fucking prick.'”
KENNEDY: ”Of course.”
Adrian rolls back into the ring and Johnny pounces at him with a dropkick to his ribs. He pulls Tanner up to his feet, peppering him with lefts and rights all the way then whips him into the ropes. He follows Adrian in to the other side of the ropes and lands a high knee to the gut that doubles Adrian over. Evil gestures with his hands like a photographer setting up a perfect shot, then quickly springboards off the second ropes with a picture-perfect elbow drop to the back of Tanner’s head! Tanner drops to the mat like a stack of bricks and the crowd boos.
JOHNSON: ”Even I have to admit, that was pretty cool.”
VASSA: ”Nothing this asshole does is cool, c’mon man!”
KENNEDY: ”Nah I have to agree with Steve. That was aces. Kinda surprised Adge and I didn’t think it up first honestly.”
Evil eggs Tanner on again. Tanner crawls to his knees and Evil hits the ropes again, coming off this time with a dropkick right to the side of Adrian’s head!
JOHNSON: ”Y’know, I thought this match would start differently. It’s weird seeing Evil in such control so early in the match.'”
VASSA: ”It’s wrong is what it is!”
KENNEDY: ”Give it time, fellas. Adrian’s resilient. That’s what he does. Let fuckass slip up and Adrian’ll take control again.”
Evil rolls Tanner over onto his back and locks on a cross armbar, shouting at the referee to make the call. Referee Mike Maxim glances down at Adrian, who’s struggling in pain but shakes his head no repeatedly. Referee Mike Maxim turns back to Evil and shrugs. Evil pulls harder on the armbar. Tanner fights through the pain and uses his free arm and legs to kick himself sideways reversing the armbar into a roll up. Referee Mike Maxim shrugs at Adrian now as there’s no pins in an I Quit match. But Adrian’s not done! With his free arm Adrian clasps the arm Evil has and liiiiiiifts upwards, pulling Evil off the mat in a show of strength and then immediately dumping Evil back down to the mat. He does it a second time and Evil finally breaks the hold. Tanner shuffles backwards slightly, shaking out his arm as the crowd cheers.
JOHNSON: ”Tanner with an impressive way to break that hold Evil had him locked in! No rope breaks means he had to come up with something else and he sure did.”
VASSA: ”Now get on his ass, Tanner!”
Evil rolls to his feet and Tanner charges him, but Evil ducks the clothesline attempt and dumps Adrian over the nearby ropes, but Adrian catches himself on the apron! Evil gloats to the crowd thinking he outsmarted Adrian again, Meanwhile Adrian waits on the apron with a look that screams ‘Really.’ at him, waiting for him to turn around. As evil does so, Adrian springboards off the ropes back into the ring, taking Evil down with a flying blockbuster! Adrian kips up to his feet, pulls Johnny up and tosses him into the corner close by. He backs up to the other corner, takes a running start and nails Evil with a flying corner clothesline! He rolls Evil back out of the corner onto the mat and pushes himself through the ropes back onto the apron. He waits for Evil to climb back to his feet before hopping off the ropes with a springboard flash kick right to Evil’s temples! Evil crumples to the mat, and Adrian takes a moment to rile up the fans.
He reaches down to grab Evil’s arm but Evil wisely rolls away and out to the floor. In the ring Adrian heaves a sigh, shaking his head.
VASSA: ”Stop pandering to the fans and kill this fuck!”
JOHNSON: ”Partially agree. That momentary pause to interact with the fans may have just blown Tanner’s momentum. And he was doing so well too.”
KENNEDY: ”Don’t count him out just yet.”
Adrian taps his foot impatiently in the middle of the ring, waiting for Evil to get back to his feet. As he gets up to his feet, Adrian hits the opposite ropes and jolts at Evil with a suicide dive through the middle ropes! He and Evil crash into the barricade on the outside.
VASSA: ”Hey, you were right!”
KENNEDY: ”I’m always right. Except when I’m wrong.”
VASSA: ”…Right.”
Cecil chuckles to himself. On the outside of the ring, Adrian is first to his feet. He pulls Evil up and whips him as hard as he can into the ring apron, Evil slamming into it back-first with a howl of pain. Adrian goes to follow up but Evil thumbs him right in the eye and tackles him backwards back into the barricade. Evil drags Tanner back to his feet and then drops him right back down with an implant DDT. He pulls Tanner back to a vertical base before lifting him up into a suplex position, and then dropping him back down, hard, chest-first onto the barricade. Tanner flops back down to the floor holding his chest and gasping for breath. Evil pulls him up yet again, bringing him towards the ring before pulling Tanner with his all his might and whipping him into the barricade and over, Tanner goes crashing into the front row audience! Evil smiles wide, then rolls back into the ring. ”You want these fans so bad!? You can have ’em!” he shouts at Tanner’s barely moving body before taking a running start to the other side of the ring. He bounces off the opposite ropes coming back towards Tanner where he springboard onto the near ropes and diiiiiives off with a springboard somersault plancha that takes out Adrian AND half the front row! The crowd boos even more as Security starts to push their way in to help the poor saps Evil just barreled into.
JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ! He just took out a large chunk of the front row audience with that plancha.”
VASSA: ”Wallace isn’t gonna be happy about that.”
KENNEDY: ”Pfffft, poser. …It did look pretty neat though.”
Evil is up to his feet first again, he spits on the kid grabbing onto his leg for support and shakes him off, then climbs back over the barricade.
JOHNSON: ”Always a class act.”
Evil reaches over and grabs Tanner and drags him back over before whipping him into the ring steps. Adrian hits hard knees-first and flings over to the other side. Evil wrenches the steps apart from the ring slightly then grabs Tanner by the arm and slams it down on the steps. Tanner howls in pain and yanks his arm back but Evil grabs it again and places it in the gap between the steps and the ring post. He moves back against the barricade then runs and dropkicks the front bottom of the steps, crushing Adrian’s lower arm between the steps and the post!
JOHNSON: ”Oh god that hurt to watch!”
VASSA: ”That clang-thud sound was sick!”
KENNEDY: ”Simpsons did it!”
Evil rips the steps back and drags Adrian up, making sure to do so by his now obvious injured arm, and rolls him back into the ring. Evil takes a second of his own now to goad the fans but Adrian doesn’t stop rolling, going all the way across the ring and rolling to the outside again. Evil notices this only at the last second. He runs around to the other side of the ring to catch his partner-slash-frenemy only to eat a quick dropkick right to the knee! Adrian follows it up quickly with another dropkick to the chest that sends Evil flying backwards into another set of steps. Adrian cries out in pain as he uses his bad arm to drag himself up onto the apron. Evil is quick to get his bearings but not for long as Adrian charges at him jumping off the apron with a sick knee right to Evil’s face!
JOHNSON: ”Ooooh! Both men trading hard hitting blows here.”
VASSA: ”Hey Cecil, you were Tanner’s tag partner at one point-“
KENNEDY: ”-World Tag Team Championship Tag Team Partner. In multiple feds. But yes, do go on.”
VASSA: ”…Right. So anyways, you guys ever fight like this?”
KENNEDY: ”Like this? Nah. There’s a special kind of hell for the Johnny Evil’s of the world and we’re gonna witness it here tonight. The worst Adge and I ever did was get into heated arguments over who got to pilot Rosie and those usually led to Brandon-tossing contests.”
VASSA: ”Pilot Rosie what?”
KENNEDY: ”Rosie, our giant mech. Looks like Optimus Prime, but the cool Optimus not the shitty ‘Bayverse’ Optimus.”
VASSA: ”…Your what?”
Suddenly Cecil realizes what he’s done.
KENNEDY: ”What? I didn’t say anything.”
VASSA: ”No no no no, you do not get to pass off that comment with nothing, Mister Kenne-“
JOHNSON: ”Gentlemen! There’s a match going on?”
VASSA: ”…Right, sorry.”
KENNEDY: ”Indeed.”
Adrian tries to shake the feeling back into his arm again before picking Evil up and tossing him back into the ring. He climbs up onto the apron again before springboarding in with a somersault senton to a prone Evil. He rolls to his feet then drags Evil away from the ropes pulling him to his feet. He goes behind Evil and lifts him up and back down again with a quick atomic drop, followed by a double knee backbreaker which he combos into a straightjacket submission!
JOHNSON: ”Almost shades of the Detroit Death Clutch there from Tanner!”
Referee Mike Maxim is right at Evil’s side, asking him if he wants to give up. Evil’s turning purple but he manages to find the energy to shake his head no so Tanner cinches it in tighter. but Evil still refuses to give. After a few more gleeful moments of choking the shit out of his fuckass partner, he lets go rolling back to his feet. He drags Evil up and then plants him back down with a hammerlock suplex. As he gets up he wrings out the arm Evil hurt again before turning Evil onto his stomach. He grabs Evil’s arm with his hands and flips forward, snapping the arm into the mat with a twisting motion that causes Evil to holler in pain. He does this again, and again, each time seemingly doing it with more force. He pulls Johnny up and makes it look like he’s gonna send him to the ropes but at the last second he yanks backwards on the same arm and hops up, nailing Evil with an armbreaker on his knees! Evil rolls to the side clutching his arm as Adrian rolls to his feet again.
Adrian slides out onto the apron again and springboards off looking for a 450 but Evil gets his knees up and Adrian smashes into Evil’s knees instead. Johnny shoves Adrian away from him with his one good arm and angrily gets to his feet, now trying to put feeling back into his own arm. Before Tanner can get up he hits the ropes and nails Tanner with a running dropkick to the head again. He yanks the arm he was working on up and then puts his boot right at the base of Tanner’s shoulder, pulling up with Adrian’s arm while he stomps away at Adrian’s shoulder repeatedly. Adrian thrashes wildly on the mat and an errant punch from his free hand connects with Johnny’s knee and frees Adrian from the pain, at least momentarily.
JOHNSON: ”Jeez, Evil’s not playing around anymore.
VASSA: ”After that straight jacket submission and arm-wringers from Tanner he seems determined to rip Tanner’s arm clean off. What, does he think he’s the only one who’s allowed to have arm-based attacks?”
KENNEDY: ”Given the fuckass he is, I wouldn’t doubt it. Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to rip Adrian’s arm off though, won’t be the last either.”
Evil pulls Tanner up from behind. He plants Adrian with a backstabber, but before he can roll Adrian over and lock on the cross face Adrian manages to free himself and rolls away from Evil. A frustrated Evil rushes to his feet and follows Tanner but as he reaches for the Arizona Assassin, Tanner grabs him and shoves him through the ropes to the floor. Evil lands on his feet and quickly climbs back up onto the apron. He waits for Adrian to get up before connecting with a springboard flying forearm! Evil pulls Adrian back to his feet and holds Tanner’s injured arm against his (Tanner’s) chest as he pulls him up into a suplex position. He holds the arm still against Tanner’s chest before falling backwards and sending Tanner down into a modified lungblower/armbreaker combination!
JOHNSON: ”Ouch! That drove all the air out of Tanner’s body and most of the crowd it seems like.”
VASSA: ”Come on Tanner, get up! Don’t let this jerkass beat you!”
KENNEDY: ”Agreed.”
Evil shoves the almost lifeless body of Tanner off of him and then rolls and locks on the crossface by itself, this time without any issue. He wrenches back on the crossface and Referee Mike Maxim asks Tanner if he wants to quit. He lets out a loud ‘Nnnnnnnrfgghg” which Referee Mike Maxim takes as a no, given Adrian is struggling with all his might to fight off the crossface. Evil shouts profanities at Tanner and wrenches back harder on the hold.
JOHNSON: ”Is this it? This can’t be it, right? Not after everything that piece of- I mean, not after everything Tanner’s survived so far. This can’t be the way it ends.”
VASSA: ”I believe in the power of not being a jackass. Or at least not one as big as Evil.”
KENNEDY: ”…Also agreed?”
Referee Mike Maxim asks Tanner, who’s face is turning colors, again if he wants to quit. He gets the same, although much less loud, response as before. Evil lets go of the hold and gets to his feet, stomping on Adrian and angrily shouting ””Give up, you fuck! at him. He sighs, shaking his head before walking over and climbing up to the top rope. He panders to the crowd, soaking in the jeers and the ‘asshole’ chants coming his way while he waits for Tanner to get back to his feet. Adrian eventually does so, seeming worse for wear after all that, and Evil grins before he jumps off the top turnbuckle looking for a hurricanrana!
‘Looking’ being the key word because as his legs spin around Adrian’s head Adrian holds on to the legs and keeps him sat atop Adrian’s head in an electric chair position before stumbling forward and dropping him neck-first against the top rope! Evil bounces backwards into the air and Tanner catches him from behind, throwing him backwards onto his head with a release german suplex!
JOHNSON: ”Holy shit Tanner with a rally outta nowhere!”
VASSA: ”There we go!”
KENNEDY: ”See? Told ya.”
Both men lay on the mat trying to catch their breaths. Tanner rolls to his feet first, he pulls Johnny up and whips him hard into the further turnbuckle, following right behind him with another flying clothesline that connects and drops Evil to the mat laying against the bottom turnbuckle. Adrian looks out to the crowd for a second, smirks, and then quickly backpedals toward the other turnbuckle. Adrian lines up his shot and ‘fires’ before taking off in a run, charging at Evil and connecting a running hesitation dropkick right to Evil’s mush!
KENNEDY: ”Sucks for Evil, he took the 4599696549 hour flight to South Beach and all he got was this lousy BOOT TO THE FACE!”
JOHNSON: ”You know I’ve always wondered where or how Tanner came up with that name.”
KENNEDY: ”I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”
VASSA: ”Really?”
KENNEDY: ”Really.”
JOHNSON: ”…Really?”
KENNEDY: ”Really.”
JOHNSON: ”Really!?”
KENNEDY: ”Really really.”
VASSA: ”Reaaaaaaallly?”
KENNEDY: ”…No, not really I’m just fuckin’ with you guys. Anyways the match.”
VASSA: ”…I’m starting to see why people hate you guys.”
KENNEDY: ”Sure but compared to Johnny Fuckass over there?”
VASSA: ”…Point.”
Tanner signals for the Revolver as he pulls Evil to his feet. He whips Evil into the ropes but Evil holds onto them with his hands as he touches them. Tanner charges Evil but Evil ducks and dumps him over the top rope again, and again Adrian catches himself on the apron. Evil turns to swing at Tanner but it’s Tanner’s turn to duck this time, hopping down to the floor, but he makes sure to grab Evil’s arm and slam it across the top rope as he falls to the floor! Evil cries out in agony as he ricochets away from the ropes. Tanner slides back into the ring and charges Evil again but Evil throws a kick at him. Adrian grabs the leg and holds it, leading Evil to nail him with an enziguri. Evil scrambles to his feet and whips Adrian to the other ropes. He follows Adrian but Adrian mimics Johnny this time and catches himself against the ropes. He turns and, as Evil comes charging in, he ducks his head and dumps Evil over the ropes. In a show of irony, Evil catches himself on the apron!
KENNEDY: ”I hate Fuckass’s guts but you can’t tell me they don’t gel pretty well together. Lookit them stealing each others spots.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s true, the hatred seemed to almost make them a better team somehow.”
VASSA: ”Good Friends, Better Enemies.”
Adrian reaches for Johnny but Evil grabs Tanner’s head and jumps off backwards, snapping his neck against the top rope. Tanner stumbles backwards and collapses to the mat for a moment. Evil starts searching underneath the apron for something. Tanner finally gets his bearing again and pushes himself up. He spots Evil, who’s turned away from him at the moment, though he doesn’t notice Evil holding something in his hands which will be his downfall. He bounces off the far ropes and rushes at Evil timing it just so Evil turns around right as he Tanner throws himself through the ropes and almost immediately regrets it as Johnny turns around and swings and Adrian flies HEAD-FIRST INTO A STEEL CHAIR. The CLA-A-A-A-N-G sound of face meeting steel is sickening. Tanner crumples to the floor a lifeless heap.
VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT! Well RIP Tanner I guess.”
KENNEDY: ”Fuck’s sake that hurt ME and I’m over with you guys.”
Evil grins wide holding the chair up into the sky like he just hit a home run. Which he kinda did, only the ball was another man’s forehead. Then he gets serious again, slamming the chair down across Tanner’s back again and again and again and again. He finally throws the chair down on top of Tanner’s unconscious frame, rolling back into the ring to bask in all the hate being thrown at him by the crowd for possibly murdering their hero. Evil roams around the ring, gloating at the fans and egging them on in their jeers before finally turning and starting to head back for Tanner.
But as he does so, he stops and slowly glances over at the announce table.
JOHNSON: ”…Uh oh.”
VASSA: ”I don’t like the way he’s lookin’ at us, Steve.”
KENNEDY: ”Me either.”
VASSA: ”Save us Cecil-Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope!”
KENNEDY: ”…No. I mean, yeah, but, never say that again.”
Instead of going after Tanner as planned, Evil slides out of the ring near the announce table. He slowly, calmly walks over near the three men at the booth, hands held up in peace. The table microphones are able to pick up what he says as he gets closer.
EVIL: ”Relax guys, I’m not here to hurt anyone. I swear. I’m just- here for a glass of water. Yeah.”
He steps even closer and Cecil drops his headset, standing up out of his chair. Evil chuckles, feigns a punch in Cecil’s direction, then side-steps over to the table right next to them reaching for… a pitcher of water.
EVIL: ”See? Check it. Just a little thirsty is all! You guys are freaking out for nothin’, man.”
Evil shakes his head in mock amusement. Nobody at the booth is buying it and Cecil hasn’t moved from his standing position. Evil picks up the pitcher and makes to take a giant swig from the pitcher itself…. before spinning in place and SMASHING IT INTO CECIL’S FACE!
Glass shards fly everywhere as Cecil falls to the floor screaming in agony and grabbing at his face. Evil yanks him up by the hair and the crowd gasps at the sight of the glass shards embedded in the Criminal Mastermid’s face, and the blood running down it. Evil slams Cecil’s face into the announce table, and pulls him forward out into the ring area. He lifts Cecil up into a powerbomb position then drops him down into a lungblower!
JOHNSON: ”The Fall from Shangri-La! Someone has to stop this, Cecil’s not an active wrestler in this company!”
VASSA: ”Also he kinda just took a glass pitcher to the face!”
JOHNSON: ”Yeah I didn’t think that part needed explaining, but thanks Vinnie.”
VASSA: ”Are you kidding? Look at him! This needs to be pointed out until someone stops Evil’s prick ass!”
Evil drags Cecil over to the side of the ring where Tanner is, who’s finally starting to stir. Evil picks up the chair and starts jamming it into Cecil’s left leg and knee, repeatedly, while keeping an eye on Tanner. As Tanner gets to his feet Evil splits Cecil’s legs apart and opens up the chair, placing Cecil’s leg inside the chair so the legs are pointing against the barricade. He shoots an evil smile at Tanner who suddenly realizes what’s going on.
JOHNSON: ”Jesus Evil! I didn’t think it could get worse than the pitcher but it apparently can! He’s gonna snap Cecil’s leg!”
VASSA: ”Seriously why hasn’t security done anything about this yet?”
JOHNSON: ”Probably the same reason they didn’t stop Cecil coming out here in the first place.”
VASSA: ”Oh good point.”
Evil has Kennedy on the ground outside the ring with a chair wrapped around his leg, blood pooling from the cuts all around Cecil’s head and face from the pitcher shot. Tanner holds up his hands in a pleading gesture as he walks towards Evil. Johnny shouts at him to back off, twisting the chair the slightest inch. He glances up and shouts at Referee Mike Maxim to bring him the mic, who reluctantly does so.
EVIL: ”Say it! Say I quit!”
TANNER: ”Wha-“
Evil rolls his eyes mockingly.
EVIL: ”What’re you, fuckin’ deaf? Say it or I break his fuckin’ leg!”
Evil wrenches the chair ever so slightly again, Adrian winces but holds steady, hopeful he can resolve this.
TANNER: ”C’mon man, you’re better than this. Let him go.”
Evil pulls the chair further, Cecil screams in agony.
Tanner takes a small step forward and Evil yanks up on the chair. The crowd boos mercilessly.
EVIL: ”Say the words, fucker. You think I’m fuckin’ bluffing?! Take another fuckin step I dare you.”
A staredown ensues between the two would-be partners. Tanner not wanting to move for fear of what Evil would do but not wanting to give into his bullshit either.
JOHNSON: ”…That’s it!”
Steve Johnson slowly takes off his headset and sets it down on the table.
VASSA: ”Steve?! Steve- Oh, oh no Steve. What are you doing?”
Steve Johnson grabs the nearest steel chair and folds it up, quietly walking over to Johnny and Adrian. The crowd roars in response as they see this happening. Both men grow curious at the sudden change in crowd tempo but Evil’s not quick enough to do anything before Johnson smacks the chair over Evil’s back!
VASSA: ”OH MY GOD! My broadcast colleague just hit Johnny Evil with a steel chair!”
The chair doesn’t do a lot of damage but it rattles Evil enough for him to let go of his hold on Cecil’s leg, as he turns around with murder in his eyes at the sight of Steve Johnson standing there with the chair.
VASSA: ”Oh god, uh… Run Steve!”
Steve Johnson drops the chair and turns to hightail it away, Evil right on his ass. Fortunately for Johnson, Adrian hops up onto the apron, runs full speed and flings himself at Evil. He flies into Johnny right before Johnny’s hands can grab onto Steve and both Asshole Antagonists go flying to the floor.
VASSA: ”Adrian Tanner to the rescue again! Tanner really laying in with the punching, letting out all that frustration at watching his best friend almost get crippled by his tag team partner.”
As soon as they hit the floor Tanner unloads with lefts on Evil’s face, over and over and over again.
VASSA: ”Tanner not letting up at all! Welcome back Steve.”
JOHNSON: ”God, that felt good.”
VASSA: ”Even though you almost died in the process?”
JOHNSON: ”Worth it.”
Tanner pulls himself to his feet, fire in his eyes as he drags Evil up as well. He grabs a hold of Evil’s hair and takes a running start and SLAMS Evil’s face into the ring steps. Evil hits the steps and just crumples to the floor, face resting against the steps. Behind him, medical personnel run out to attend to Cecil.
JOHNSON: ”Oh god!”
VASSA: ”Tanner is not messing around anymore.”
JOHNSON: ”Would you after what Evil just tried to do?”
VASSA: ”Nope.”
Tanner yanks Evil up by his hair again and drags him further around the ringside area. He slams Evil back-first into the apron before pulling Evil by the hair and flinging him as hard as he can over the top of the table next to Johnson and Vassa. Evil crashes into the commentators at the table and they all slump to the floor.
VASSA: ”Not the Australian announce team!”
Tanner begins throwing away all the monitors and cables and laptops situated on the Australian announce table, then reaches over and pulls Evil to his feet again. Evil headbutts Tanner as hard as he can on the way up, causing Tanner to stumble backwards momentarily, but as he goes to follow up Vassa sticks his leg out and trips him.
VASSA: ”Oops!”
The sarcasm is strong in this one. Evil sighs heavily, starts to turn to glare at/possibly murder Vassa and gets a running forearm to the face from Tanner instead! Tanner sends Evil up onto the table and climbs up with him. He pulls Evil up into a stalling suplex position before dropping him straight down with a brainbuster through the table! The fans let loose with a “HOLY SHIT” chant.
JOHNSON: ”Holy shit is right! Wow! I dont know how Evil can get back up from that.”
VASSA: ”I’m not sure either man’s getting back up from that!”
Tanner lies on his back in the rubble of the table taking deep breaths, then slowly rolls over and grabs Evil by the arm and neck and locks on a crossface on the broken remains of the table!
JOHNSON: ”Crossface! Crossface! That’s his brother’s move!”
VASSA: ”Also, Evil’s. So two-for-one goodness!”
Referee Mike Maxim is right by Evil’s side with the microphone.
REFEREE MIKE MAXIM: ”Do you give up?!”
EVIL: ”Fffffffffffffffffuuuu-uuuuuuccccccccckkk yyyyyyyyooooo-ouuuuuuuu!”
Evil shouts through the pain of the crossface, refusing to give up. Tanner relinquishes the hold, laying back down on the rubble to catch his breath again.
JOHNSON: ”Even after all that, Evil refuses to give up.”
VASSA: ”Hate him or not you have to give Evil credit where it’s due. He’s in this to win this.”
Tanner finally pulls himself to his feet. He drags Evil dead-weight style over to the ring apron and rolls him back under the bottom ropes before dropping down and looking underneath the apron for something. He pulls out a number of steel chairs that he tosses into the ring, along with a kendo stick. He rolls into the ring, kendo stick in hand and smacks Evil with it in the back as Evil tries to get back up. He pulls Evil up by his hair and leads him over to the ropes, wrapping the top and middle ropes around Evil’s arms holding him in place like a crucifix. He holds the stick high above his head and shouts ”THIS IS FOR CECIL YOU PRICK!” and lights up Evil’s chest with the stick. He does it again. And again. And again, and again, and again until Evil’s entire chest is pink from the welts left by the stick.
VASSA: ”Dear god, Evil’s chest looks like a skin cancer patient gone wrong.”
JOHNSON: ”…Thanks for that mental image, Vinnie.”
Tanner unties Evil from the ropes and pullss him further into the ring. He makes a gun motion right into Evil’s face and ‘fires,’ then puts the kendo stick up against Evil’s throat and hits the REVOLVER!
JOHNSON: ”KENDO STICK REVOLVER! That’s gonna leave some splinters.”
VASSA: ”You aren’t kidding. If anyone deserves it at this point it’s him, though.”
Tanner drags Evil’s body over near the ropes, then takes all the chairs he threw into the ring and throws them on top of Evil, one by one, covering his chest and almost his head with a bunch of chairs. He climbs out onto the apron and then up to the top turnbuckle.
JOHNSON: ”What the hell is Tanner doing now? Surely he’s not gonna dive onto all those chairs.”
VASSA: ”I’m pretty sure he is. And don’t call me Shirley.”
VASSA: ”What?”
JOHNSON: ”Nothing.”
Adrian sets himself so he’s standing atop the very top of the top turnbuckle, he raises his arms high into the air as the crowd cheers him on, then leaps off into a shooting star frog splash!
Evil somehow rolls out from the pile of chairs right as Tanner finishes the flip and goes for the frog splash. Evil makes it to safety and Tanner splats into the chairs with a loud THUD sound!
JOHNSON: ”OW That had to hurt!”
VASSA: ”Hell yeah it did, holy shit!”
Evil somehow, slowly but surely, drags himself to his feet using the ropes for leverage. He looks down at Tanner’s fallen form and sneers. He climbs out to the apron and onto the turnbuckles himself, mocking Adrian as he sits at the top turnbuckle. Then he dives off with a swanton bomb crashing down onto Adrian and the chairs!
JOHNSON: ”And the mimic war continues!”
VASSA: ”Well it wasn’t really a mimic, they did two totally different moves. But yeah, Evil the glory hound always trying one up Tanner.”
Evil rolls off Tanner and the chairs, holding his back in pain.
Evil pulls himself back up to his feet. He reaches down for Tanner but Tanner throws a chair up directly into his face. Evil stumbles backwards into the ropes, bounces back and runs right into a drop toe hold from Tanner that sends him face-first into the chair pile!
JOHNSON: ”And just like that, Tanner’s back on the offensive.”
VASSA: ”He’s a legacy in this ring, his quick wits and ring savvy serve him well.”
Tanner takes a walk around the ring to shake the cobwebs off, and apparently, grab the kendo stick. He walks back over to Evil, who’s just getting to his feet, and smacks the stick over Evil’s back, sending him down to both knees. Adrian holds the stick like it’s a golf club and tee’s off with a stick shot right to Evil’s side. He throws the stick aside and pulls Johnny to his feet, whipping him to the far ropes. Tanner himself bounces off the near ropes and when they meet in the middle Adrian hops up and spikes Evil with a running tornado DDT! Adrian kips up to his feet, somehow, and pulls Evil up with him. He leads Evil over to a different corner and hooks Evil’s arm behind his back, throwing Evil upside down into the corner with a wrist-clutch exploder suplex! Evil lays upside down in the corner against the buckles. Adrian does another quick back up jog before running and hitting another picture perfect hesitation dropkick to Evil’s stomach!
JOHNSON: ”We’ve been seeing it the whole match but these chains of moves really show why people call Tanner the Best Light Heavyweight in the Business.”
VASSA: ”It sure is, the kid’s got skills out the wazoo. And the fact he’s using those skills to beat down Evil is an even bigger plus in my book.”
Tanner drags Evil out of the corner and picks him up so he’s standing up right again. He goes for another suplex but Evil fights out of it and falls behind him to his feet. Evil drops to his knees and low blows Adrian from behind doubling him over, and the crowd boos! Evil hits the ropes Tanner is facing and bounces back taking him down with a sling blade! Evil gloats over Tanner’s fallen body, again. He goes to pull Tanner up but Tanner grabs him in with a small package that he transitions into an arm bar of his own! Evil kicks and flails and screams for his life and forces the break but Adrian’s back up before him and once Evil does get to his feet, Tanner kicks him in the gut and hits a spinning wristclutch fisherman’s buster!
JOHNSON: ”The Sure Shot! Tanner with the Sure Shot! “
VASSA: ”Outta almost nowhere! The kid never stops amazing me.”
Tanner is quick to dive on top of Evil, trapping him in the straight jacket submission yet again!
JOHNSON: ”Here we go, he’s got that straight jacket locked in again!”
VASSA: ”Say Nighty Night, Evil!”
Evil’s face turns colors again but he still will not give in, or give up so Tanner lets him go. He pulls Evil up by his hair, shoves him into the ropes, kicking him in the gut on the rebound and then grabs him and lifts him into a suplex, which he promptly drops against the top rope and turns all of that into a springboard REVOLVER!!!
Adrian gets to his feet, breathing heavily, arms at his side as he tries to decide what to do about his fuckass tag team partner. On a whim, he glances at the chair pile, and the turnbuckle near it. A smile slowly crosses his lips.
JOHNSON: ”Uh oh. That doesn’t look good.”
VASSA: ”Not for Evil at least.”
Tanner picks Evil back up and pulls him along towards the chair pile once more. He rearranges the chairs so they’re stacked closer together, then lifts Evil up onto the second turnbuckle. Adrian climbs up behind him so he is sitting on the top turnbuckle. He yanks Evil’s head backwards and locks on a dragon sleeper on the turnbuckles!
JOHNSON: ”Oh, I think I know what this is…”
VASSA: ”You do?! What is it?”
JOHNSON: ”Just wait.”
Tanner yanks back on the neck and Evil’s hands reach for his throat, but they can’t do much else. Referee Mike Maxim asks if he wants to quit and they flail about signaling that no he does not want to quit, even though he probably should. Seeing that, Adrian sets himself on the turnbuckle and lifts with all his might, pulling Evil up into his arms in a reverse suplex position.
JOHNSON: ”Okay yep, this is what I thought it was.”
VASSA: ”What is it??”
Tanner hops off the ropes, dropping Evil onto the steel chair pile with a reverse brainbuster! The crowd gasps and cheers but when the dust settles the image of Adrian Tanner still holding on to Johnny Evil’s neck with the dragon sleeper appears in the pile of busted and bent chairs! The cheers get even louder.
JOHNSON: ”He hasn’t used that in YEARS, but I guess when you’re in this kind of situation and nothing else works, you go with what has before!”
VASSA: ”I’d say it’s working pretty well now!”
Tanner, kneeling in the rubble of chairs, is still choking Evil to near-death with dragon sleeper. Evil’s face is turning all kinds of pretty colors. His arms are still flailing, but the flails are getting weaker as time goes on. Referee Mike Maxim asks Evil again, and his arm shoots up for a millisecond to show the fight still in him… and then sinks back down to his side. Eventually both arms stop moving altogether. Referee Mike Maxim raises first one arm, then the other, and lets the drop. They fall unceremoniously to his side. Referee Mike Maxim calls for the bell.

JOHNSON: ”Holy shit he’s done it!”
VASSA: ”The Evil is defeated!”
“Tom Sawyer” by Deadsy plays through the speaker as Adrian drops the sleeper hold and wobbly gets to his feet. Referee Mike Maxim raises his arm to the cheers of the entire audience.
JOHNSON: ”…You’ve been waiting all night to use that, haven’t you.”
VASSA: ”Sure have!”
JOHNSON: ”After a hard-fought, brutal war with his own 4CW Tag Team Championship partner, Adrian Tanner Junior stands victorious, once again doing exactly as he said he’d do. Though the match didn’t go off without casualties-“
VASSA: ”Poor Cecil.”
JOHNSON: ”I think it’s a match both men can look back on be proud of. They almost killed each other out here tonight.”
VASSA: ”Now the question is, can they work together after all this.”
JOHNSON: ”I hope so, for their sakes. But if All or Nothing showed us anything, they’ll be fine.”
VASSA: ”That’s true, and this probably was a good way for them to get a lot of tension out between them. Who knows? This might make them better friends!”
In the ring, Adrian sits atop one of the turnbuckles, holding his head and arm and staring daggers at Evil who is being looked over by medics while also trying to celebrate his victory.
JOHNSON: ”Or maybe not.”
Adrian rolls out of the ring and high fives the fans at ringside as we cut elsewhere.

We cut into a pre-taped video feed. Fading in from black, we see a clipped piece from the Lil’ Boeing promo from last week as he sits on a red brick corner outpost, addressing the viewing audience.
BOEING: “…today I made my decision ta live up to tha handle. And anyone done flew in an aircraft know dat dey two seats in da front. Up heah in Williamsburg? I jus’ found my co-pilot.”
A brief glimpse into last week immediately fizzles to unseen footage. The setting is a familiar one, as the 4CW cast and crew were there only a couple of weeks ago. A glamour shot of the Atlanta city skyline at dusk from a high-altitude view begins to descend slowly at first, then to a rapid drop. There is a moment of black, and upon fading back in, we are taken to the front of the FABULOUS Fox Theater, where a handful of 20something wrestling fans are gathered in the shot. A dark-haired fellow in a navy blue shirt with the word “GRAPS” in athletic font seems to be the focal point as his friends surround him.
VOICE: “What do you think of Lil’ Boeing’s new partner?”
GRAPS MAN: “Well, if it’s who the Internet says it is, man…I can’t wait. Everybody loves that guy.”
The setting again cuts and brings us to a new location: the Blue Flame Lounge, a notoriously famous local spot typically packed to the brim. Outside, two large men presently passing back and forth a “tobacco-filled” Swisher Sweet are addressed by the 4CW crewman.
CIGAR AFICIONADO #1: “What it do?”
VOICE: “What do you two think of Lil’ Boeing’s new partner?”
CIGAR AFICIONADO #1: “Hard ah hell.”
CIGAR AFICIONADO #2: “Everythin’ he spit is real, y’all. He down to unload tha chamba. Ain’t even afraid of catchin’ no life sentence, much less no time out.”
CIGAR AFICIONADO #1: “And you know he ain’t gon’ snitch neither. ‘Cause he already done TOLD y’all he ain’t a tattletale.”
CIGAR AFICIONADO #2: “Damn right.”
The scene dips back to black. This time, there is no immediate cut in to a feed, just a background voice.
VOICE: “And what about you, Chipper? What do you think of Lil’ Boeing’s new partner?”
A clip is then displayed, which appears completely out of sync with the line of questioning, that features Braves hero Chipper Jones in what appears to be the locker room of Turner Field (RIP) talking to several microphones being shoved in his face.
CHIPPER: “Well, I think it was a good night for the fans and the team.”
VOICE: “Oh-kaayyyy. And hey, what about you?”
The setting then cuts to just a few nights before in what appears to be a front-row view of the entrance aisle for #FSociety’s final Revelation event. A brutally beaten and exhausted pair of wrestlers are helping each other reach the backstage area after a classic match. Hutch Lanahan and final High Roller Champion Anastasia Hayden do not immediately turn to the camera, prompting a shout from our voice.
Both Hutch and Ana, somewhat proturbed that a “fan” is catcalling them about a matter that neither really care too much about, turn and give a look of bewilderment to the lens. Well, Ana’s look is more of a scowl. Nonetheless, she chirps a response.
HAYDEN: “I don’t know who it is you ASS HOLE!”
And dark, once again…
…until the sound of a light space-like musical twinkle, accompanied by a shot of a blue sky dusted with fluffy white clouds fills our senses.
One two three

The voice of Andre 3000 providing the shotgun blast lyrical introduction of Outkast’s “B.O.B.” immediately sets off a poorly CGI’ed sight of Lil’ Boeing, arms spread wide open as if he is in fact an actual plane. However, despite having his aviators on and with the green-screened atmosphere moving at a very fast pace, he occasionally puts a hand over his eyes in an attempt to see far off in the distance.
“In-slum-national, underground
Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!)
Like a million elephants and silverback orangutans
You can’t stop a train
Who want some? Don’t come unprepared
I’ll be there, but when I leave there
Better be a household name
Weather man tellin’ us it ain’t gon’ rain”

Panning quickly to the left, we see what it is that Dat Plane Doe is staring at. Despite the warnings from several opthalmologists, he is actually looking directly into the sun. However, undaunted, the camera pans back to the soaring Boeing as the music continues.
“So now we sittin’ in a drop-top, soaking wet
In a silk suit, tryin’ not to sweat
Hits somersaults without the net
But this’ll be the year that we won’t forget”

As if the vignette weren’t dumb enough, upon Andre’s proclamation of the year 1999 in the next verse, we see the image of a tabby cat fill the shot. Well, four tabby cats: each in positions to form the numbers 1-9-9-9 with their bodies.
“One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Anno Domini
Anything goes, be whatchu wanna be”

Then, the three 9’s slowly dissipate, giving an enlarged version of just one cat. The fine editors of the video perfectly sync the cat “rolling” to the left and to the right to the beat of the upcoming snare drum interlude.
“Long as you know consequences, to give and for livin’
The fence is too high to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell

And almost instantaneously with the word “HOT!” the camera angle shifts back to the far left. The sun is penetrated and EXPLODES in a blaze of fury, revealing a second human plane coming towards the direction of Lil’ Boeing. However, his face seems to be completely on fire (or it is just horribly done via more “creative” video editing) so we can’t exactly make out who it is.
“Get a life, now they on sale
Then I might cast you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, soul gold grill and some baby mama
Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers
Stack of question with no answers
Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS
Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days”

However, as the two human jets draw nearer, Boeing reaches for a nearby cloud, conveniently pulling a fire extinguisher out of it. He hoists the nozzle and prepares himself for once he reaches striking distance for the inferno-faced man that we can only assume must be his partner.
“Get back home, things are wrong
Well not really it was bad all along
before he left adds up, to a ball of power
Thoughts at a thousands miles per hour
Hello, ghetto, let your brain breathe,
believe there’s always more, ahhhhh!”

And with a spray of the extinguisher, the fire is cleared, but the “ammonium phosphate” still leaves too much in the way to reveal the man’s identity. Both Boeing and the revealed mystery newcomer then stand upright (as if it were some type of miracle) and begin to dance to the chorus of the song as the dust begins to settle.
“Don’t pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
Yeah! Ha ha yeah! Don’t even bang unless you plan to hit some thang
Yeah! Uhh-huh…”

The unmistakable grin of innocence, the wild long brown hair, and the radiant glow of his cheeks is finally revealed as none other than Hubert Smalls. As the two continue to do what can only account for goofy yet fairly rhythmical two-stepping and ridiculous arm gestures to the tune, we fade to a blotch of plain white text on a gray background:


POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The lights throughout the park begin to pulsate as the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the speakers. Out from the back dancing and wilding out is Jett Wilder with his unofficial Uno Championship secured tightly around his waist. He stops in the center of the stage, scanning over the crowd before spotting his eyes on a sign held by a fan.

Pointing to the fan, he then kisses his fingers before pointing upward to the sky.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at one hundred and forty-five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! He is the unofficial Uno Champion… JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”
A look of seriousness overcomes his facial expression before he looks to the ring and begins making his way down the ramp. Rolling underneath the bottom rope, Jett enters the ring before popping back up to his feet. Climbing the nearest corner, he pounds his chest, surprisingly getting support from the fans given recent events. He then removes the championship from his waist and holds it high above his head as the crowd instantly explodes with cheers. Hopping down from the corner, Jett walks over to his corner before leaning over the top rope and handing the championship to a member of the ringside crew to place safely by. Jett then removes his shirt and twirls it above his head. Hearing a loud squeal from the front row, he looks over to see a group of young ladies. Throwing his shirt in their direction, the ladies go wild as Jett slowly turns around and prepares himself for the upcoming match.

“Loyal” by Chris Brown begins to play throughout the park.
POWERS: ”And the opponent!”
Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp.
POWERS: ”I’m supposed to be nice this bitch because she’s a ‘champion’ now. Coming to the ring from Upper Eastside Manhattan, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds and standing at five feet and seven inches tall. ‘The Queefster’, ‘Marky Mark’, ‘The Ass Eater Extraordinaire’, ‘Mr. Brightside’ herself and the unofficial Foosball Champion… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
She had been waiting for Powers to finish announcing her, hands on her hips as she glares toward the ring, having expected Powers to drag her ass again. She nods with a sudden bright and content smile, 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 at her. However, she pays no mind to either of them; patting her hands on her belt; showing that she doesn’t need anything else.
“These hoes ain’t loyal!”

Coming to a dead stop, she glares into the crowd as the look on her face turns a complete one-eighty. In the crowd, a nearby fan holds up a sign, yelling at her with rage.

Turning to her right, another sign catches her attention, making her even more angry.

Not far from that sign, another one is held even higher.

Furious, she ignores the fans and heads for the ring. She enters the ring and regards the referee with a fake smile and an friendly greeting, before turning to her corner with an eye roll and an almost disgusted expression as she takes the championship off her hips. She waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; back to her patronizing smirk as she drapes the belt on her shoulder, petting it lovingly and giving it a kiss before she glares across the ring at Jett. Dropping down from the corner, she then hands the belt off to a member of the ringside crew on the outside.
VASSA: ”Queef is getting quite a bit of heat tonight after ripping Fluffy Wuffy’s arm off two weeks ago.”
JOHNSON: ”Everyone is overreacting! It’s just an irrelevant teddy bear. You people act as if she literally killed someone.”
JOHNSON: ”Oh just stop it right there! No!”
VASSA: ”That wasn’t just some irrelevant teddy bear. That was Jett’s teddy bear. That was Mr. Fluffy Wuffy and she gutted him and left him to bleed out, stuffing and all.”
JOHNSON: ”And these fake championships they brought to the ring with them. This is absolutely ridiculous!”
VASSA: ”Whoa now, Steve. Calm down little buddy. They’re just having some fun. After all, the Uno match and Foosball game were very intense contests between the two. Those championship belts are not unearned.”
JOHNSON: ”This is wrestling Vinny. This is 4CW. This isn’t place to play or any other after school program. These two are treating this like it’s one big joke.”
VASSA: ”I think you’re very wrong about that.”
JOHNSON: ”How so?”
VASSA: ”Jett isn’t treating this like one big joke. The kid is legit pissed off and saddened by the loss of his childhood friend. Marquis would be wise to not underestimate him here tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”I can’t wait for the cheerleaders to appears and their pompoms to burst out of their shirts.”
VASSA: ”You and me both! I love tiddies! I’ll motorboat each and every single one of them. Lucky that Carmella isn’t out here at ringside tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s exactly what we need. Carmella out here so her and Persephone can film a hardcore sex flick right there in the center of the ring.”
VASSA: ”Oh my god I fucking wish!”
JOHNSON: ”We already saw what happened with Persephone and Tara in the ring together. Just imagine what her and Carmella would do given their recent history.”
VASSA: ”I’ll be sure to later tonight in my hotel room.”
JOHNSON: ”And for someone who doesn’t take championships seriously and thinks they’re crap… look what she brought out here to the ring with her!”
VASSA: ”I think that was more of a joke since Jett actually had a championship made for him after the Uno match.”
JOHNSON: ”Not from what I saw! She was proud to hold that championship with her on the way to the ring tonight. It’s a damn shame she won’t drop her flawed mentality and actually put forth the effort to be a champion in 4CW.”
VASSA: ”It is what it is, Vinny.”
JOHNSON: ”It ain’t wrestling! At least not the kind that I want to see. Just go on with the show ref!”
With both Jett and Marquis ready in their corners, the official wastes no more time and quickly calls for the bell.

As the bell sounds, both shoot from their corners and quickly approach each other until standing toe to toe in the center of the ring. In a heated exchange, the two argue back and forth until Jett grows angry and reaches forward, grabbing onto Marquis’ arm and pulling it in his direction. Ripping her arm out of his hands, Marquis then follows up with a swift kick to Jett’s stomach. As Jett lunges over, she backs up until she hits the ropes and jogs forward, hitting Jett in the face with a lifting knee and knocking him down to his back. Brushing the hair from out of her face, Marquis circles Jett, yelling down to him as he slowly recovers.
VASSA: ”I can’t watch, Steve! She’s going to murder that poor boy.”
JOHNSON: ”She said she was going to force him to grow up even if it meant beating him in order to do so.”
Rolling over to his stomach, Jett then pushes himself up before turning back to Marquis. Charging towards her, he slams his chest against hers before yelling at the top of his lungs. Raising his hand, he extends his finger and goes to poke her in the chest while screaming at her. Before his finger makes contact, she swats his hand to the side and connects with a forearm shot to his face. Instantly, Jett spins around and takes a few steps away from her as he quickly holds his hand up over his mouth. Waiting for him to turn around, Marquis stands back until the opportunity arises. As jett slowly turns to face her, she charges at him full speed. Lunging forward, Marquis misses Jett as he side steps her and takes her down to the canvas, face first with a drop toe hold.
VASSA: ”Is it over yet?! Did she kill him?”
JOHNSON: ”Open your eyes, Vinny! Jett just dropped her to the mat.”
VASSA: ”Wait… what?”
Back on his feet, Jett wastes no time and quickly rushes in beside Marquis. Not giving her the chance to even get back up, he begins kicking her in the side over and over before jumping into the air and coming down on her back with a double foot stomp. Pulling Marquis back to her feet, Jett turns her around to face him before pulling her head down and wrapping his arm around it. Grabbing onto the back of her pants, Jett then lifts her up and over in a flash, dropping her to her back with a snap suplex.
Rising up, Jett stomps on Marquis’ stomach a few times before hopping over her and running towards the nearby ropes. Leaping into the air, he plants both feet onto the middle rope before sling-shotting himself off and into the air. Flipping backwards, Jett comes down across Marquis with a springboard moonsault. As soon as he connects, he then hooks her leg as the official races over for the count.

Popping her shoulder up from the mat, Marquis breaks up the pin. As soon as she does, Jett hits her over the head with a hard right before pushing himself up. With her still down at his feet, Jett lifts his foot as high as he can before slamming it down and stomping on her shoulder. Pulling Marquis up to her feet, Jett holds her in place as he delivers a right to her forehead, knocking her back a step. Grabbing onto her wrist, Jett backs her up against the ropes, using them to thrust her forward as he whips her across the ring. As Marquis hits the ropes, Jett races to the middle of the ring awaiting her return. Coming back on the rebound, Marquis charges towards Jett who prepares himself to lift her off her feet. In the blink of an eye, she slides to the mat feet first and right between Jett’s legs. Jett quickly turns around to face her and as he bends over to attack, Marquis kicks her foot up and back over her head, planting it directly into Jett’s face and knocking him backwards across the ring.
JOHNSON: ”Marquis was too quick for him right there. Jett didn’t even know what had happened.”
VASSA: ”Jett better get back into this fast before she gets back up.”
As Jett regains his footing, Marquis quickly pops back to her feet. Charging in, she hits Jett in the side of the thigh with a swift right kick. She then kicks her left leg and connects with the side of Jett’s knee, forcing his leg to give out from under him as he drops down to one knee. Marquis then kicks Jett in the shoulder with a right and follows up with a left stinging kick to the side of Jett’s head. As Jett wobbles back and forth in a daze, Marquis turns around and takes off in the opposite direction. Hitting the ropes and coming back with lightning fast speed, Marquis closes in and levels Jett with a step-up enziguiri. With Jett laid out on his side, Marquis drops down to both knees and rolls him over to his back before making the cover.
VASSA: ”Kicks upon kicks, my kid.”

Just as the officials hand is about to slap the mat for a second time, he comes to an abrupt stop and looks over to see Jett’s foot propped up on the bottom rope nearby. Furious, Marquis leans up to both knees and then draws back before swinging downward and slapping Jett across the side of the head. She then pulls Jett to his feet and positions herself beside him, grabbing onto him before dropping him with a Russian leg sweep. Pushing herself back up, Marquis spots Jett’s exposed fingers as his arms are stretched out. She then steps in and stomps down onto them, dropping all of her weight into it. Quickly, Jett pulls his hand in, securing it with his other and holding it closely to his chest.
Pulling Jett to his feet, she then walks him over to the ropes and presses his face down onto the top one. Locking onto his head with both hands, she presses it down as hard as she can before dragging him from one end to the other, giving him a nasty rope burn along the way. Stopping at the corner, she pulls his head back with one hand and then goes to slam it face first onto the turnbuckle. Extending both arms, Jett locks onto the top ropes and stops the movement of his head just inches before contact into the turnbuckle is made. Jett the fires back with an elbow, hitting Marquis in the stomach with it and forcing her to release her hold. Grabbing Marquis by the head, Jett then slams her face into the turnbuckle three times in a row, knocking her into a daze. As he releases her, Marquis stumbles backwards but remains on her feet as Jett begins to ascend the corner.
JOHNSON: ”We’re seeing a different side of Jett here tonight. I don’t believe we’ve ever seen him use the turnbuckles before.”
VASSA: ”The kid is angry and wants revenge for what Queef did to Samuel whatever she called him.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s just a damn teddy bear! Jett needs to show this type of intensity each and every time he steps into the ring.”
VASSA: ”We’ll buy him a new bear before each event and have Queef rip it to shreds then.”
JOHNSON: ”You can’t be serious.”
Standing tall on the top of the corner, Jett waits until Marquis settles her feet before leaping forward into the air. Kicking his feet forward and extending his legs, Jett aims for Marquis’ chest with a missile dropkick. Stepping out of the way, Marquis dodges the dropkick and as Jett falls to the mat, she pushes down on him, making his impact even harder as he crashes. Jett rolls around on the mat, holding his lower back in tremendous pain. Pulling Jett up from the mat, Marquis then whips him to the corner. Crashing into the corner, Jett instantly drops down to a seated position with his back against it. Taking off from stand still, Marquis charges towards Jett. Jumping up from the mat, she kicks her feet forward and drives them into Jett’s face with a running dropkick.
Pushing herself up, She then grabs onto the top ropes and uses them for leverage as she begins kicking Jett in the stomach over and over. Releasing the ropes, she bends over and begins yelling in Jett’s face before drawing back and slapping him across his cheek. Taking a few steps backwards, she stops in the center of the ring before charging forward again. Closing in, she hits Jett in the face with a running knee, slamming his head back against the lower turnbuckle. Pulling Jett to his feet, she then lifts him up and sits him on top of the corner. Swinging upward, she hits him with a quick smack to the mouth.
VASSA: ”You better stop crying over Candy Land!”
JOHNSON: ”What are you even talking about?”
Climbing up to the middle ropes, Marquis holds Jett’s head in place as she rains down on it with vicious rights. Keeping Jett somewhat in a daze, she then climbs up to the top rope and holds his head with both hands before looking out over the crowd. Jumping up, she wraps both legs around Jett’s head for a Frankensteiner. Just as she begins to drop back and flip Jett off the top, Jett wraps her up with both arms and pulls her back up. Holding Marquis in the air, Jett fights for air as she squeezes her legs together with his head right in her crotch.
VASSA: ”Oh no! Jett is about to mess up his pants!”
JOHNSON: ”How’s that?”
VASSA: ”You need to pay attention to social media, Steve.”
Jumping off the corner, Jett holds Marquis and as the two begin to descend, Jett slams her to the canvas with a powerbomb, her shoulder taking a huge portion of the impact.

JOHNSON: ”Jett crushes her!”
VASSA: ”He’s bringing the heat tonight. Mr. Fluffy Wuffy’s death will not be in vain.”
Instead of going for the pin, Jett rises back to his feet and looks down at Marquis as she holds her shoulder in pain from landing on it awkwardly. With a smile on his face, Jett hurries to her side and begins kicking and stomping on it furiously. He then kneels down and grabs her arm, Lifting it into the air and then slamming her shoulder back into the canvas. Dragging her to the edge of the ring, he rolls her body underneath the ropes with her head hanging over on the outside. He then uses the ropes to slingshot himself up and over, coming down on her face with a legdrop.
With Jett on the outside, the official begins the ten count.
“One! … Two!”

Spotting the Foosball Championship on the floor not far away, Jett walks over to it and picks it up.
“Three! … Four!”

He then begins slamming the face of the belt onto the top of the ringside steps over and over wildly.
“Five! … Six!”

Over and over, he continues to beat the ringside steps with the belt, damaging the face plate more than the actual steps.
“Seven! … Eight!”

He then holds the championship up as a satisfied look comes across his face at the sight of the scratched and dented Foosball Championship. He then throws it to the floor before rolling back into the ring.
VASSA: ”Are you alright there, Steve?”
JOHNSON: ”Never been better! All he has to do now is destroy the Uno Championship and this will be the best night ever.”
VASSA: ”Stop being such a hater.”
Pacing the ring, Jett hypes up the fans in attendance as he begins waving his arms up and down. Across from him, Marquis pushes herself up to both knees and holds her shoulder with the hand from her other arm. Getting caught up in the moment, Jett plays to the crowd even more as they show nothing but support for him. Seeing an opportunity, Marquis quickly rises and limps across the ring. Her limping steps transition into a job and as she closes in on Jett, she puts it all on the line and hits him in the back with a shoulder block from her already hurt shoulder. Stumbling forward, Jett’s face slams onto the top of the corner and as he bounces off, Marquis runs to the ropes adjacent from him and returns with a stinging kick to his shin.
VASSA: ”Son of a bitch that hurt me watching!”
Kicking Jett in the stomach, she forces him to buckle over before grabbing onto him and dropping him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Pushing herself up, Marquis then runs to the ropes and as she comes back on the return, she kicks him in the side of the head with a baseball slide dropkick. Pulling Jett up from the mat, Marquis spins him around and then kicks him in the stomach. Grabbing onto his head with both hands, she then plants his face into the mat with a sit-out facebuster. Rolling Jett over to his back, Marquis then makes the cover as the official races over for the count.

Snapping her head up and turning her attention to the official, Marquis squeals as loudly as possible before screaming “WHAT?!?!” She then pops up before stomping her feet in place and yelling at the official. She then gives the official the middle finger and turns back to Jett, pulling him up from the mat. Wrapping her arm around Jett’s head, she then runs forward, dragging him along for a running bulldog. Before she can take him down to the mat, Jett pulls his head out and pushes her in the back, sending her to the ropes empty handed. As Marquis comes back on the rebound, Jett runs forward and leaps into the air, wiping her out with a Thesz press.
He then begins throwing rights and lefts, pounding away at Marquis head. Quickly covering her head, Marquis blocks the majority of punches before catching Jett’s arm and rolling him over to her side, She then climbs on top of him and begins hitting him with mounted punches from her good arm. Knocking Jett senseless, she then grabs his head and lifts it up from the mat before slamming it back down into the canvas with all of her might, rattling Jett’s brain. Over and over she pounds the back of his head into the canvas. With Jett almost out of it, she finally drops his head to the mat before drawing back with her injured arm. Squealing loud enough to be heard throughout the entire park, she then swings down with a vicious power punch.
VASSA: ”Goodnight Jett.”
Catching Marquis’ arm before her fist makes contact with his face, Jett awakens and quickly maneuvers himself out from underneath her. Wrapping his legs around her head and securing her free arm, Jett locks her in as he pulls her arm between his legs.
VASSA: ”Jett has her in a bad spot!”
JOHNSON: ”Jett has her in an armbar and it’s fully locked in!”
In the center of the ring with nowhere to go, Marquis moans as the pain begins to sink in. With the armbar fully locked in, Jett pulls her arm towards him as hard as he can, as it trying to rip her shoulder from the socket.
JOHNSON: ”Payback for Mr. Fluffy Wuffy!”
VASSA: ”Let’s just hope that the result doesn’t end the same as it did for that dumb teddy bear.”
The official quickly drops down beside Marquis to check in with her as Jett pulls away at her arm. After a few moments pass, she has no choice but to tap wildly as the pain is just to much to endure.
JOHNSON: ”Persephone is tapping! She’s tapping!”
VASSA: ”Holy fuck, Jett did it!”
Quickly, the official calls for the bell as Jett continues pulling away at her arm with her trapped and nowhere to go.

VASSA: ”He’s going to rip her arm off! Revenge is a mother fucker!”
Hearing the bell, Jett gives her arm one last tug, delivering a final touch of pain before finally releasing her. “Blessings” hits the speakers as Jett quickly pops to his feet in excitement. Rolling across the ring, Marquis holds her shoulder as the pain is evident by the look on her face. Stepping in beside Jett, the official then raises his arm into the air as the entire park erupts with cheers.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner by submission… JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”
Looking across the ring, Jett appears a bit concerned at the sight of Marquis in pain. The camera then zooms in as his lips read. “You’re lucky that I let go when I did.”
VASSA: ”What are you doing Jett? Avenge Mr. Fluffy Wuffy and rip her arm off!”
JOHNSON: ”He’s not going to do that. He’s angry about what happened no doubt but he’s not the type of person to take things that far.”
VASSA: ”With a win over Queef tonight, I think that’s enough damage for her to reflect on.”
Rolling out of the ring, Jett picks up the Uno Championship and raises it high above his head. Standing just a few feet away from the front row, he extends his arms and closes his eyes as the cheers rain down on him.

We cut to the backstage area where we see Gabriel Hartman! He’s frantic, running down the hallway as he looks over his shoulder. His straw hat almost flying off due to his pace, the camera just barely able to keep up with him.
Gabe shouts a few things that we can’t hear, but it doesn’t seem like anyone in particular is chasing him. He turns a corner, and almost runs right into Bryan Williams! Bryan, who is fully dressed for his match, looks on in confusion as Gabriel tries to hide behind him. The cameras finally catch up with the two, as Bryan stands there confused.
WILLIAMS: ”Gabe, what the hell are you doing man? You almost ran into me!”
Gabriel continues to search the area, his movements are jittery and feverish.
HARTMAN: ”They’re here! You have to hide me, Williams!”
Bryan tries calming Gabriel down, still confused by the situation.
WILLIAMS: ”Who’s here? What are you talking about?”
HARTMAN: ”The goddamn dogs! They know! I have to get out of here!”
Bryan sighs.
WILLIAMS: ”What are you talking about? There’s no police dogs here, Perry was just messing around on Twitter.”
Gabriel snaps his head towards Bryan, a sour look on his face.
HARTMAN: ”Bullshit!”
Bryan puts his hand over Hartman’s mouth, almost immediately.
WILLIAMS: ”Watch the language, dude! This is a TV-14 show.”
Gabriel tries to speak, but his speech is muffled by Bryan’s hand. Bryan sighs, as Hartman flails about. Bryan holds up a finger, getting the homeless reporter to quiet down for the moment.
WILLIAMS: ”Look, there are no police dogs. Nobody is after you. I’ve been backstage for almost two hours now, and I have not seen any police officers here. I swear to you. I’m gonna take my hand off your gross mouth, will you be quiet if I do?”
Hartman nods, and Bryan slowly removes his hand. Gabe looks around some more, still unsure of the situation.
HARTMAN: ”I saw a dog! A hideous beast!”
WILLIAMS: ”What do you mean? A dog? Backstage?”
HARTMAN: ”Yes! It knows!”
Bryan looks confused for a moment, and then quickly realizes something.
WILLIAMS: ”Wait …you mean Oscar?”
HARTMAN: ”They gave that beast a name? How horrid!”
Bryan laughs, as he pats Gabriel on the shoulder.
WILLIAMS: ”No, Gabe. Oscar is Tara’s dog, he’s completely harmless. Great dog too, by the way. Look, I’m glad I ran into you though. I need to do a quick little interview, could you spare the time?”
Gabe looks around again, and then straightens his shirt. He gives a solemn nod towards Bryan.
HARTMAN: ”Okay, but only because you helped me out! Now, Bryan, challenger for the Pride title …what’s on your mind?”
Bryan’s joyful expression changes, turning a bit serious for the moment.
WILLIAMS: ”Look, Gabe, it’s no surprise about the recent drama between Generation Now. Lately things have been rocky. Lauryn was attacked, and put out of action for a while. Bronx quit the group. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and the group has been thinking too. We’ve all decided that it is time for Gen Now to go away-”
Gabriel looks shocked, or at least acts the part.
WILLIAMS: ”Yeah, I know. Not that big of a surprise, but it’s time. We’ve all done what we needed to, in this group. I wanted to give these guys a platform to jump off from, to accelerate their careers. I think Generation Now did just that.”
HARTMAN: ”So what does that mean for you?”
WILLIAMS: ”I mean, it is what it is. I’ll keep doing my thing, and worry about winning that Pride title back.”
? ? ?: ”And you better win it back too.”
Off camera, an unknown voice is heard before the person walks into frame, revealing herself as none other than Anastasia Hayden. Hartman looks at her in confusion, perhaps over how she got backstage in the first place.
HAYDEN: ”I didn’t come all the way out to Florida to watch you lose to someone who actually uses a move called the ‘Atomic Bong Rip’, Bryan.”
WILLIAMS: ”Woah, incoming hot takes over here.”
Gabe scratches his head for a moment, looking at Ana.
HARTMAN: ”Am I hallucinating another person here?”
WILLIAMS: ”Nope! Ana, this is Gabriel Hartman. Gabe, this is Ana!”
HAYDEN: ”Is Gabe one of your idiot friends like Dave? If so…don’t look at me Gabe.”
Bryan shakes his head, while Hartman just stands there in confusion.
WILLIAMS: ”First off, Dave can go fuck himself-”
HARTMAN: ”Language!”
WILLIAMS: ”Secondly, Gabe here is the leading 4CW reporter. When it comes to breaking news, doing an interview, or finding the best places to dumpster dive he is your man. Did I mention that he’s homeless? So please, have a heart.”
HAYDEN: ”So he’s the one that smells like dead dog, got it. Kudos to 4CW for being so open to the needy, I guess. I think I’ve seen a few other homeless people here too.”
Gabe tries to speak up, but Bryan cuts him off.
WILLIAMS: ”No, Ana, I already told you that Cashe isn’t homeless. He just looks that way, part of the gimmick.”
HARTMAN: ”Bryan, what is the meaning of this anyway? We can’t just have random people walking around backstage! Next thing you know Ally Morrow will be showing up, it will be a madhouse!”
Bryan is about to say something, but begins to think. He looks over to Ana, nodding towards her.
HAYDEN: ”Well, tonight, I’m strictly here to watch the death of Generation Now and I’m a Bronx mark. And, of course, hoping Bryan doesn’t disappoint. But after tonight? Anything’s possible.”
HARTMAN: ”Sounds spooky!”
Bryan laughs, patting Gabriel on the shoulder once again.
WILLIAMS: ”Don’t worry, Gabe. Everything will be alright.”
With that, Bryan and Ana are done. They quickly leave the scene, leaving Gabe to wonder if there really were any police dogs after him.


JOHNSON: ”Well folks, we’ve had two title matches here tonight. It’s time for another one!”
VASSA: ”Yes indeed! Matthias Barrows shocked everyone when he beat Bryan Williams at All or Nothing. It was an amazing display between both men, but in the end Matthias grabbed the upset.”
JOHNSON: ”He did, but now Bryan Williams has a chance to win that title back-”
VASSA: ”I dunno, Steve. After All or Nothing I think we’ve seen the peak of what Bryan Williams is capable of here in 4CW. Matthias Barrows figured him out, he got in his head! Hell, he even stole the damn title before winning it! Matthias Barrows is our Pride champion, we need to treat him as such.”
JOHNSON: ”A lot of people would disagree with that, and a lot of people would think that he doesn’t have much of a shot here tonight.”
VASSA: ”Lot of people didn’t give him a shot last time either.”
JOHNSON: ”Damn good point, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”Thank ya kindly, Steve.”

“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. 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…”

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 one hundred and ninety-eight pounds! 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 Matthias to make his way to the ring. He paces around the ring, looking towards the back as he does.
JOHNSON: ”A serious Bryan Williams entering the ring here tonight, he looks ready for a fight.”
VASSA: ”Dude needs to calm down, he’s going to work a hole into that canvas before the match even starts!”
JOHNSON: ”This is Bryan’s chance, his opportunity to get back what was taken from him. I expect nothing else from the former Pride champ tonight.”
VASSA: ”Former champ is all he’s going to be, when the night is over!”
As Williams waits in the ring, the sound of a siren fills the park as a vandalized ambulance backs in next to the stage. The siren stops, allowing the booing throughout the park to be heard just as the sound of a pipe organ’s ascending notes fill the soundwaves. Once it hits the dramatic note, the stage explodes in pyro before the final tier of “Dancing Mad” begins playing throughout the park. Suddenly, the back doors of the ambulance fly open, having been kicked open by Matthias Barrows. Tonight, Matthias is dressed in white trunks with his initials in gold on both sides of his hips, matching the 4CW Pride Championship strapped around his waist.. He stands there for a moment with Black Betty in his hand as Stacy Barrows gets out of the driver’s seat, and Gary out the passenger side.

POWERS: ”His opponent, 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, MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”

Matthias hops out of the ambulance and the three of them quickly cross the stage and head down the entry ramp.

JOHNSON: ”I can’t believe the audacity of this man. He wanted this match to be an Ambulance Match, but he didn’t get his way, so he brought an ambulance in anyway.”

VASSA: ”No matter what type of match it is, this is a big fight feel for Matthias Barrows tonight, Steve, and for Williams too. There’s much more on the line for both of these men tonight than just the Pride Championship.”

JOHNSON: ”Absolutely. For Bryan Williams to put that title back around his waist tonight would mean redemption for everything Barrows has done to him over the past few months.”

VASSA: ”But for Matthias Barrows, this is about silencing his critics and all of the people that say he got lucky at All or Nothing.”

Matthias reaches the ring and hops onto the apron. He steps into the ring and hops onto the second turnbuckle to do his signature pose while the crowd continues to boo. As his theme song plays out, Williams slides back into the ring, and the two begin to circle each other. Matthias hands his weapon to his wife as the referee asks for the title. He unstraps it from his waist, folds the flaps in, and hands it over. The referee holds it high in the air for the crowd before handing it off and calling for the bell.


With the Miami crowd ready to go, both men look eager to waste no time here. They shoot out of their corners, and meet in the middle as they begin to rain down punches on each other! Neither man looks to give up, as they go punch for punch here on the opening bell! Williams lands a hard forearm shot, stunning the Pride champion for a moment. Williams rushes towards the ropes, but Matthias falls to the canvas as Williams runs over him. Matthias hops up to his feet, and catches Bryan with a dropkick on the rebound! The crowd boos, as Bryan rolls to the outside.
Matthias amps himself up, running towards the opposite side of the ring as he looks to dive to the outside. Bryan gets back up though, and rolls back into the ring before he can. He catches Matthias with another Forearm shot, knocking him down in mid stride!
JOHNSON: ”Big shot from Bryan to start this match!”
VASSA: ”I can already tell these two aren’t going to hold anything back. Strap in, this is going to be a long one.”
Matthias gets back to his feet, he looks for a tieup but fakes Williams out. Instead he takes him down, dragging him down to the mat. Matthias quickly mounts his opponent, but Bryan is easily able to reverse and roll Matthias over. Logan Whitby steps in, as Matthias quickly grabs the nearby bottom rope. To his surprise, Williams raises his hands and gets back up to his feet! The crowd cheers, as Matthias looks a little annoyed. The two quickly tieup again, and Matthias tosses Williams to the mat with a Hip Toss! He turns to the crowd, taunting them!
Williams quickly springs up, taking advantage of his distracted opponent. He rolls Matthias up in a school boy attempt, but Matthias rolls through it and onto his feet. He charges at Williams with a clothesline, but Williams ducks. Matthias keeps his momentum going, and hits the ropes. He rebounds and meets Williams in the middle of the ring, who catches him with a big Back Bodydrop! The crowd cheers, as Matthias holds his back in pain, rolling to the outside. Williams looks to make a big opportunity out of this, he charges towards that side of the ring. Matthias quickly moves out of the way, but Williams rolls through and lands feet first on the apron!
JOHNSON: ”A nice bit of agility from Bryan there, his knee seems to be holding up as well.”
VASSA: ”For now, just wait until Matthias gets ahold of it.”
Standing on the apron, Williams watches as Matthias waits for him to make his move. Williams fakes a superkick attempt, causing Matthias to go for a high block. Instead, Bryan leaps off of the apron and clobbers Matthias with a Forearm! He crashes to the ground, as Gary and Stacy soon arrive. Williams is almost unaware of their presence, until Logan Whitby quickly calls out to them. There’s a bit of an argument between the three, causing Logan to toss Gary and Stacy from this match! The crowd cheers, as Gary and Stacy look on in stunned silence!
Matthias, getting up during the confusion, quickly slides back into the ring to have a few words with Logan. He tries to argue, but is completely shut down! Matthias kicks the bottom rope in frustration, as Williams looks on with a grin. His opponent now in the ring, waiting to attack.
Williams is careful, slowly going through the ropes as he keeps his eye on his opponent. Matthias rushes at his opponent, but suckers Williams with a feint and kick to his stomach. Matthias quickly locks in a side headlock, but Williams sends him to the ropes. Matthias bounces back, knocking Williams down with a Shoulder Tackle! Williams flops to his stomach, as Matthias leaps over him and runs to the ropes! Williams pops back up, catching Matthias Barrows with an amazing dropkick! Matthias falls to the mat, rolling towards the outside yet again. As he tries to recover Williams scouts the situation, he springs to the ropes, gaining momentum to run towards his opponent with a Tope Con Hilo!
JOHNSON: ”Look at Bryan go! Tope Con Hilo from the former champ!”
VASSA: ”Bryan’s just not stopping!”
JOHNSON: ”He’s got Matthias right where he wants him.”
VASSA: ”Just wait, Matthias is playing the long game here. He’ll figure it out.”
Matthias and Williams crash hard onto the ground, as the surround Miami crowd cheers on! Williams quickly gets to his feet, giving a few fans in the front row a “too sweet”. He grabs Matthias, trying to toss him back into the ring, but Matthias reverses and tosses Williams face first into the ring post! Williams hits hard, allowing Matthias to shove him back into the ring. Matthias doesn’t cover Williams, instead he goes for Bryan’s bad leg! Bryan blocks the attempt, lifting Matthias up for a Vertical Suplex! Matthias swings over, landing behind his opponent and taking him down with a Russian Leg Sweep! With his opponent’s shoulders down, Logan Whitby makes the pin!

Williams kicks out easily, as Matthias rolls up to his feet. Williams tries to get to a knee, but Matthias push-kicks him back down to the mat. He grabs Williams, picking him up and tossing him to the ropes. Matthias bends down for the Back Body Toss, but Williams responds with a kick that snaps Matthias upright! He goes for a Superkick, but Matthias grabs his foot! He spins Williams around, and levels him with a Leaping Enziguri Kick! Williams stumbles backwards towards the corner, and Matthias presses on with a few right hands.
JOHNSON: ”Matthias is taking control, but did you notice how Bryan was able to stop him from the attack on his leg?”
VASSA: ”Doesn’t matter, it was the opening that Matthias needed to take control of this match.”
He shoves Williams into the corner, forearm after forearm lands flush to the face of Bryan. Matthias throws his palm across Williams’s chest, a shot echoing out throughout the area. A few fans in the audience “Wooo!” in response, but Matthias follows that up with a another Forearm Shot! Williams’s head is rocked backwards, Matthias lays into him again with another Forearm! Matthias goes to lift Williams up onto the top turnbuckle, but Williams shoves him away! Matthias charges towards his opponent, but Williams ducks under as he runs to the ropes. Matthias turns, and eats a Discus Lariat! With his opponent down Bryan goes for the pin!

Matthias shoots his arm up, and Williams quickly locks in a Crossface. He wrenches away, getting up to a seated position as he pulls Matthias in closer. Matthias tries to move towards his right side, but Williams blocks it with his current body position. Matthias pushes his weight to the left, pinning Williams’s shoulders to the mat!

Williams kicks out, but it’s enough to break the hold. Matthias scurries backwards, as the fans in the audience clap loudly for the current pacing of the match. Matthias gets to a knee, as Williams begins to carefully study his opponent. The two quickly stand back up, circling each other as they do. Matthias goes for another tieup, but it’s a fake as he tries to roll Williams up in a Schoolboy Pin! Williams rolls through, but sits up in time to eat a Running Knee from Matthias Barrows! The crowd boos, as Williams rolls under the bottom rope to the outside.
Williams looks a bit dazed from the shot, having eaten all of the knee without warning. He tries to shake it off, leaning against the barricade as he recovers. Inside the ring Matthias watches, backing up to the opposite side of the ring. He waits for a moment, rushing towards the ropes in front of him as Williams turns around. Williams doesn’t have much time to react, as Matthias Barrows goes flying through the ropes with a SUICIDE DIVE!! Bryan moves at the last second though, SENDING MATTHIAS HEAD FIRST INTO THE BARRICADE!

VASSA: ”Holy SHIT! Matthias just dove headfirst into that barricade!”
Bryan is still feeling the effects of the knee, but Matthias didn’t have much time to protect himself. The cameras get a closer look at him, his forehead split open from the dive! Blood begins to run down his face, as both men are out on the ground. Logan Whitby has no choice but to start a ten count!
”One! … Two! … Three!”

Bryan stirs first, getting to a knee as he looks over at Matthias. He walks towards the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. Matthias is stirring as well, but Bryan quickly realizes he cannot win on a countout.
”Four! … Five! … Six!”

Before Bryan can exit the ring, Matthias is up to his feet! His face is a crimson mask now, but this does not stop him. Enraged, he gets up and slides under the bottom rope. Logan Whitby goes to check on him, but Matthias shoves him out of the way! He goes right for Bryan, clobbering him with a Forearm! Williams’s head snaps back, but he returns with a shot of his own! Matthias staggers backwards, as Williams connects with a Knife Edge Chop to the chest of Matthias Barrows! Matthias stumbles back to the ropes, as Bryan charges towards his opponent and clotheslines him and himself over the top rope! Both men spill to the outside, as the crowd cheers!
JOHNSON: ”This match just won’t end! Both men back to the outside!”
VASSA: ”It’s a back and forth fight, these two won’t stop!”
Logan Whitby stays in the ring, starting his count all over again.
”One! … Two! … Three!”

Both men are up, as Matthias grabs Williams trying to whip him into the nearby barricade. Williams reverses and sends Matthias crashing into the barricade! Matthias dumps up and over, falling into the crowd! Williams rushes towards the barricade, but Barrows catches him with a Leaping Enziguri! Bryan falls back, as Matthias hops back over the barricade.
”Four! … Five! … Six! … Seven!”

Matthias quickly rolls into the ring, and rolls back out. He’s not having the match end this way. Unfortunately for him, Bryan has recovered! Williams grabs Matthias in a Front Chancery, trying to Suplex him on the outside. Matthias blocks the attempt, and tries for one of his own. Bryan blocks that attempt, and SLAMS MATTHIAS ONTO THE APRON WITH A ROLLING RELEASE SUPLEX!
JOHNSON: ”Rolling Release Suplex onto the apron!”
VASSA: ”This is not the way Matthias should be handling this match! Come on champ!”
Logan Whitby calls for both men to get back into the ring, but they stay on the pavement after that brutal Suplex to the apron. He has no choice but to restart his count again. Neither man look like they’re about to move.
”One! … Two! … Three!”

Williams begins to stir, but Matthias Barrows stays down on the outside. Williams takes in a few deep breaths, trying to get back to his feet.
”Four! … Five! … Six!”

Williams gets up to a knee, and Matthias finally starts to stir. The crowd becomes relieved, as Williams gets up to his feet. He grabs Matthias, and pushes him back into the ring. Bryan quickly slides back in, to continue this onslaught. Williams gets Matthias back up to his feet, pulling him into a Double Underhook. He tries for a Suplex, but Matthias is able to spin out of it! He connects with a Spinning Back Elbow, knocking Bryan backwards. A running Dropkick sends Bryan into the nearby corner. He stumbles out into a SPRINGBOARD DDT FROM MATTHIAS! The crowd is stunned, the move coming out of nowhere! Matthias quickly covers his opponent!

Bryan kicks out, much to the crowd’s surprise! Matthias stays focused, slapping the mat to keep his energy going. Bryan staggers up, as Matthias throws him into the nearby corner. He drives a shoulder into Bryan’s stomach, and lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle. Matthias quickly scales the ropes, grabbing his opponent and taking him down with a Superplex! The two men crash hard, leaving the crowd a moment to applaud this match so far!
JOHNSON: ”Beautiful Superplex from Matthias Barrows! Both men are down yet again!”
VASSA: ”If he wasn’t so beat up he could cover him! That would end the match!”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t think that would, these two are giving up any time soon!”
Williams again holds the back of his head, as Matthias takes a breath. He gets up to his feet, as Bryan tries to. He stomps on the back of Williams’s head, picking him up to his feet. Williams swings widely at Matthias, but Matthias ducks and wraps his arms around his waist. Pulling Williams back, he tosses him to the mat with a German Suplex! Williams rolls through, getting to his feet, but Matthias catches him with a Running Headscissors! Williams flips inside out, as Matthias quickly covers him!

Much to the crowd’s pleasure, Williams kicks out! Matthias and Williams stay on the mat, as the crowd sings their praises.
”This is awe-some! This is awe-some! This is awe-some!”

Matthias looks focused, getting back up to his feet as Williams tries to get to his. He crawls on his hands and knees, using the nearby ring rope to pull himself back up. Matthias steps towards his opponent, attempting a Rolling Elbow that Williams sees coming! He ducks, connecting with a Superkick that staggers Matthias backwards! Williams lifts Matthias up onto his shoulders, dropping him over his knee with the Fireman’s Carry Neckbreaker! Matthias tries getting up to his feet, but Bryan grabs him and hits the SOLAR FLARE HOMICIDE! He quickly covers him!

Williams looks distraught, having thought the match was won. Matthias just getting his foot on the bottom rope in time. Williams looks on, catching his breath as the Miami audience again begins to chant.

Williams uses that energy to fuel himself, he gets back to his feet as Matthias tries to get back up. Williams lifts Matthias to his feet, several Forearm shots slam into the face of Matthias Barrows. That seems to fire Matthias up, who connects with a shot of his own! A quick Rolling Elbow knocks Williams backwards. Matthias charges Williams, but Williams tosses him into with a Belly to Belly Suplex! Matthias is able to land on his feet though, he runs at Bryan and rolls through into PALOMAR KNOT!
The Miami crowd goes nuts, booing as the Sharpshooter is locked in! Matthias wrenches back, as the crowd chants for Bryan not to tap! Bryan yells out in pain, Matthias reaching back to grab his arm.
The crowd cheering keeps Williams focused, but Matthias does not let go of the hold. He tries to calm himself, regulating his breathing as Matthias squeezes tighter! Bryan’s hand is able to get free, as Matthias loses his balance for a moment, allowing him to grab the nearby rope! The crowd cheers, as Matthias lets go of the hold in frustration. Bryan is in pain, grabbing his right leg.
JOHNSON: ”Bryan Williams breaks out of the hold!”
VASSA: ”Damnit! Matthias should have worked over that knee!”
Matthias doesn’t let up, pulling Bryan back into the center of the ring as he tries again. He grabs a leg, but Bryan kicks him away with his free leg! With Matthias stumbled, Bryan gets up to his feet. He throws out a Superkick, but Matthias is able to duck under it. Bryan spins around, and Matthias connects with a SPINNING BACKFIST!

With Bryan staggered, he finishes the Raging Demon with a Bicycle Knee! Williams’s eyes roll back into his head, as Matthias quickly covers him for the pinfall!

JOHNSON: ”Matthias uses Bryan’s own move! Effective, but he doesn’t get the three count!”
VASSA: ”Perfect strategy! Use what you’ve seen, and give it back to him tenfold!”
Williams kicks out, the fans erupting as Matthias argues with Logan Whitby over the count! He thinks it was three, but Logan Whitby informs him it was two! Matthias slaps the mat in frustration, shoving Williams back down as he tries to get back up. Williams attempts to, but Matthias throws out a Superkick that hits his knee. Williams falls to his knees, as Matthias yells at his opponent!
Matthias tosses another Superkick, but Bryan is able to catch it this time! He gets up to his feet, still holding Matthias’ leg. Matthias tries for an Enziguri, but Bryan ducks!
Bryan wraps his opponent up in a Sleeperhold, but tosses him over with a Sleeperhold Suplex! Matthias crashes into the mat, the crowd cheering as Bryan looks to pour it on! He quickly picks him up, lifting him up onto his shoulder. With Matthias in the Cradleshock position, Bryan drives him into the mat with the Personality Shift! He keeps his opponent pinned for the cover!

VASSA: ”He won’t stay down! Bryan’s got nothing else he can do!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m not so sure about that, he’s looking like he’s ready to end it with the CTE here!”
VASSA: ”Matthias is ready to counter it, just look at him! He’s laying in wait to strike!”
Matthias kicks out, but Bryan is prepared. He lifts his opponent up to his feet, calling for the end. Bryan puts Matthias into the Front Chancery, looking to connect with the CTE! Matthias drives a knee into the head of Bryan, causing him to drop his opponent. Matthias looks a bit stunned, Williams quickly interlocks his right hand with Matthias’s left. Before Matthias can react, Williams sends a hard open hand slap to the chest of Matthias Barrows. Williams springs up the nearby turnbuckle, popping up onto the top rope in a surprising lucha fashion. Matthias quickly slaps away Williams’s hand, distracting him and causing Williams to fall seated onto the top rope. In one fluid motion, Matthias grabs Williams AND GERMAN SUPLEXES HIM BACK INTO THE RING!

Bryan lands hard, on his head and neck! The two men lay on the mat, tired from the brutal match that has led them here. Matthias tries to get back to his feet, but surprisingly Williams attempts the same! The crowd cheers, as Williams struggles to pull himself back up to his feet. Matthias gets to his, pulling Williams up as he does. Matthias sends forearm after forearm into the face of Bryan Williams! Bryan looks out of it, as Matthias yells something at him. He grabs Bryan into the front chancery, and lifts him up into the CTE!!

The Brainbuster onto Matthias’s knee hits home, and the crowd can’t believe it. Matthias lays on the mat for a moment as he tries to recover. Williams lays there, motionless, completely out from the Brainbuster. Matthias smiles proudly, scooting himself over to his downed opponent. He casually leans against Williams, as Logan Whitby makes the count.

JOHNSON: ”Matthias just used Bryan’s own finisher on him, but it wasn’t enough! These two men are willing to go through ANYTHING for that Pride title!”
VASSA: ”Come on Matthias, finish him!”
Confused, and in shock, Matthias looks at Logan Whitby. Bryan Williams looks completely out of it, sheer determination willing him out of the pinfall. He reaches for something, anything to help pull him out of his funk. Matthias looks annoyed, Williams kicking out of his own finisher was something he did not expect. He pulls Williams up to his feet, Williams looking a bit on dream street.
With a grin, Matthias proudly say he’s going to finish this once and for all! The crowd boos, as his attention is towards them.
Suddenly, Williams opens fire! A forearm connects, followed by another! The crowd cheers, as Matthias gets back into the corner by Williams! Matthias swings, but Williams ducks and connects with a Spinning Backfist! Matthias stumbles backwards, dazed, as Bryan hits him with the BICYCLE KNEE! Matthias stumbles back again, rebounding into the ropes. He tries charging forward, but he EATS ANOTHER BICYCLE KNEE! Falling to the mat, the crowd cheers as Bryan covers him for the pin!

Williams looks dejected, the fans boo as Matthias Barrows is able to get his shoulder up at the last second! With all of the fury, and crowd energy he can muster, Williams gets Matthias back up to his feet. The two stand there, exhausted, as Bryan tries to lift him up for the CTE!
Matthias floats over, and lifts Bryan up into the Torture Rack position! He swings Bryan out to hit the neckbreaker, and drills him into the mat! With Bryan down, Matthias lays down as he covers his opponent!

JOHNSON: ”Bryan kicks out of the 10-SP, and Matthias looks like he’s just seen a ghost!”
VASSA: ”Don’t wait, Matthias! Finish him off now!”
The crowd is on their feet, Matthias completely surprised that Bryan was able to kick out at the last moment. Bryan is trying to get back up onto his feet, but Matthias is already there. He holds Bryan by the hair, yelling something at him. An open hand slap echoes throughout the park.

With Bryan on dream street, Matthias casually lifts Bryan up and tosses him into the corner. He looks around the crowd, telling them “its over!”. With Bryan set up onto the top turnbuckle, the crowd begins to groan as they see what’s coming next. Matthias carefully steadies himself onto the second rope, looking to hit The Overdose! He easily gets Bryan up, readying him for the powerbomb!
Matthias lifts him up, but Bryan immediately locks in a TRIANGLE CHOKE! The two are perched on the turnbuckle, and Bryan grabs onto the top rope to keep himself balanced. Matthias is trying to get out of the hold, as Logan Whitby steps in to break up the hold. Bryan lets go, dropping down to the canvas. He races to get to Matthias in time, but Matthias catches him with a kick! Bryan falls down, as Matthias readies himself for another attack. He moves to the top rope, and leaps off for the ATOMIC BONG RIP!
JOHNSON: ”Elbow drop from the top!”
The crowd roars, Matthias having almost nowhere to go! He tries to punch away at Bryan’s knee, but with Bryan being able to have taken care of it this whole match it’s almost pointless! Bryan applies more pressure, as Matthias desperately looks for a way to escape! He’s thrashing around, and his leg just manages to find the bottom rope! The crowd boos, as Bryan has to let go of the hold.
Matthias gets up to his feet, coughing from the hold. Bryan stands up, watching his opponent. The crowd cheers as Matthias turns around, and walks right into the CTE!
The knee lands flush, as Bryan quickly covers his opponent!

The crowd is in shock, as Matthias is barely able to shoot his shoulder up at the last moment. Bryan stays focused, he sees the shoulder go up and quickly transitions into an Armbar attempt! The pain shakes Matthias out of his funk, causing him to defend it with everything he has!
Bryan watches as Matthias gets to a knee, he switches his positioning and transitions the Armbar into a Triangle Choke! The crowd is on their feet, as Matthias is in shock! He looks for a way to break the hold, but there is no rope in sight! With no other choice, Matthias taps out!!

“Omen” begins to play, as the Miami crowd cheers in celebration. Matthias lays on the mat, holding his neck and head. Bryan crawls towards the ropes, using them to help him up as referee Logan Whitby assists him.
JOHNSON: ”Bryan Williams has done it! He has recaptured the Pride championship here tonight!”
VASSA: ”Insane! I thought Matthias had this match, he even kicked out of the CTE Steve. It took everything from Bryan to finally put him away, what a match!”
Bryan’s hand is raised high, as Logan gives him the Pride championship. Matthias looks to finally be recovering, as Bryan walks towards him. Matthias looks on, as Bryan extends his hand out to him.
VASSA: ”Easy there, Bryan. You already proved your point!”
JOHNSON: ”Vinny, I think Bryan is trying to help him back up. A show of respect from the new champion!”
Matthias looks hesitant, the crowd cheering them both on. He thinks about it for a moment, but then swats Bryan’s hand away as he rolls under the bottom rope. The crowd boos, Bryan watching as Matthias heads towards the back. Bryan shrugs, turning back towards the crowd as he begins to celebrate yet again.
JOHNSON: ”Well a big win here tonight, what a night of matches we’ve had so far!”
VASSA: ”This crowd has been amazing all night long, but there’s still one more match to go. You think they’re ready for it?”
JOHNSON: ”I sure hope so, especially after what we’ve seen here already!”
VASSA: ”Bronx and Eli certainly have their work cut out for them, that’s for sure!”

Bruised, drenched in blood, attire torn, and still wound still seeping out crimson fluid, but not defeated was Dakota Smith. He sat with his back pressed up against a now blood smeared hallway wall. He had his arms resting on his knees, and a cigarette clenched between two fingers on his left. Bringing the smoke up to his lips Dakota looks up into the camera. His face was beginning to swell, purple tones peeking out behind his crimson mask. Smoke escapes the butcher’s lips as he lets out a very disturbing smile, his teeth stained with not only his own blood, but also the blood of his former friend Cyrus Riddle. The butcher’s vile tongue snuck out from his behind his teeth as he licked the blood off of his teeth and lips, seemingly savoring the flavor.
SMITH: “With this bump in the road taken care of… I can now focus onto bigger and brighter things. You see I have been down in the muck for too long now. I have sat and toiled with my would be adversary named Cyrus Riddle, I played his game and now the whole world sees him for the fraud that he is, the joke that he has become! “
Dakota forces out some rather unsettling sounding laughter before taking another drag off of his cigarette, his eyes looking up at the ceiling for a second before settling back into the camera.
SMITH: “When I talk about bigger things i talk about the one thing that means more to me than anything else in this maggot filled world. I talk about my heart, the 4CW championship! Eli! Bronx! I don’t care who walks out of that match the winner – because either way i will become whole once again. Just know that I will be watching you, waiting for the right opportunity to strike and take back what’s mine. But you know what? This isn’t just for the winner of that match, this is forever holds the championship until I take it back! Because let’s face it, I’m a Hall of Famer… A lot of little faggots who want to challenge me… And the right opportunity may not present itself for who knows how long. “
Dakota pushes himself up against the wall and starts to make his way up to his feet, his blood smearing deeper into the wall as he does so. Now on his feet he takes one last drag off of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground. The Butcher then rubs his hands together as he rolls his head around his shoulders, loud cracking coming from his bones echoing throughout the hallway.
SMITH: “This is for whoever holds the championship that isn’t named Dakota Smith… I will be coming for you…I will be watching you. There isn’t a damn place in this world you can go where you won’t feel my glaring eyes. When you sleep at night and you wake up feeling quite a fright, thinking to yourself that there’s no way you’re not alone… I will be there, stalking you. Watching as you play with my heart, keeping it close like it’s your own. I’ll let you feel safe, let you feel like you’re on top on the world and nothing can bring you down…And that’s when i’ll send you crashing into my own personal hell! Ask Jair Hopkins, ask Felicity Banks!
I imagine that there will be more bumps in my roads, so i’m ready for the long journey. But my eyes will never leave my heart.. And one day, sooner than you think… I will be on top of the 4CW mountain once again. I will reach the glory that is the end of the crimson path. Dakota Smith is 4CW, and the 4CW championship?”
Dakota rubs his hand over his blood drenched chest, right over his heart. He takes a handful of blood and reaches out, covering the camera lens in his bodily fluid.
SMITH: “ Is my heart. “

With the match over and everything said and done, Jett is found in his locker room. Fresh out the shower and in a new set of clothing, he’s piling everything into his gym bag. Vaguely, winning or losing doesn’t matter in this situation because it feels like a huge loss on both sides, letting friendship slip through their fingers. He’s moody, pouting with heavy sighs. With one final zip, he slings the bag over his shoulder and turns around. The camera pans with him and Jett stops in his tracks, shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of Persephone Marquis standing in the doorway of his locker room.

WILDER: “What do you want?”

Marquis shrugs, looking around the pristine locker room; not much of Jett’s personality scattered throughout. Plain, even.

MARQUIS:“I did come here to trash your locker room, like you did mine last time, but I think we’re past that now. It’s over, right? Or maybe I feel like it’s over because we just stole the fucking show and I’m proud of you and happy. One of the best matches I’ve ever had. Good shit. I knew you could do it.”

Jett frowns at her grin, shaking his head and adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

WILDER: “There were better ways to do this, you didn’t have to stab me in the back or ruin our friendship. It didn’t have to be this way, and you know that. Now, what? You think you can just show face and everything goes back to normal, I’m supposed to forget about everything you’ve done up to this point?”

MARQUIS:“Not sure if my best friend Jett would’ve kicked my ass in the same way that you did. I get it, though, no one wants to be manipulated or have their feelings twisted up for the greater good of themselves, but you’re a better competitor now over it. I just want you to be great and, in the end, I want us to be good, so is it too late now to say I’m sorry?”
Her grins gets bigger as Jett rolls his eyes, a slip beyond the veil not exactly lightening the mood of the situation or the possibility that their friendship can’t be fixed. Seeing Jett obviously hesitant, her smile drops for a moment. She raises a finger, wait a second type shit as if Jett isn’t already ready to go.

She bends down to the side of her, where Jett can’t see, but he watches her with interest. Pulling it from the spot, she reveals her gift to him, a sign of truce – a fixed Mr. Fluffy Wuffy, wearing a small “Wet for Jett” shirt. Jett’s eyes widen as he drops his bag, marching over and taking the bear from her gently, as if he could burst into stuffing at any moment. He inspects the intricate stitching on Mr. Fluffy Wuffy’s once detached arm.

WILDER: “You fixed him!”

MARQUIS:“Well, I paid someone to fix him but same thing, I guess. So, yeah. I kind of did because, you know, I care about you and your feelings to a larger extent when compared to how little I regard everyone else. You’re my best friend and I don’t want that to change because I decided to force you into motion. That match was the end of it, though, so are we cool?”

Jett thinks for a moment, walking and sitting on a bench within his locker room, looking at the bear before setting it down next to him.

WILDER: “I guess we’re cool. I forgive you, but you’re going to have to earn it back, you know. Everything. One step at a time, but Mr. Fluffy Wuffy is a good place to start.”

MARQUIS:“That’s not his name, Jett.”

WILDER: “Can we not argue? We’re trying to fix this friendship and you want to argue the technicalities of the name bestowed upon a bear with an imagined inner conscious given to him by external factors, such as natural human behavior around toys? He’s a stuffed animal, Marquis, it doesn’t matter what we call him.”

MARQUIS:“Oh, okay. Now it doesn’t matter, but before-”

WILDER: “Yeah, I was being petty.”

A silence falls over the situation, this tension between them and Marquis huffs, stomps her foot even which gets Jett’s eyes on her once again. She’s not going to go step by step, this isn’t New Kids on the Block – this is, she’s known Jett forever and she’s not going back to the start of that very difficult journey and becoming his friend. In many ways, he’s as insufferable as she is to start. She’s not dealing with that again.

She glares at him as she marches over to where he’s seated and, right when he stands in retaliation to her sudden movement, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him in for a hug. He’s unsure of what to do, so he just naturally hugs back instead. They hug for a while, the hug getting tighter until they’re hurting each other’s ribs in a more friendlier way than just moments before within the ring. Finally, she pulls away from him, leaving Jett to rub at his aching sides.

MARQUIS:“That’s it. We’re back to where we were. Fixed just like that.”

WILDER: “I don’t think-”

MARQUIS:“You know what I wanna do? Hit up a McDonalds and then watch some movies. You down or no way?”

Jett sighs, giving up on addressing everything properly and just going with the flow presented. He looks at her skeptically.

WILDER: “Okay, but you’re paying.”

The scene fades to black as Marquis complains about paying for his Ubers throughout their entire spat, Jett grabbing Mr. Fluffy Wuffy with a smile and heading toward the door as Marquis follows behind.

The scene fades to backstage where Gabriel Hartman stands in his best suit and tie in front of a 4CW backdrop with the microphone in his hand.
HARTMAN: “Joining me at this time, the number one contender for the 4CW Championship, South Beach Brawl Cup winner…Bronx Valescence…”
The crowd pops as just Bronx steps on screen and gives a slight curtsey as he has his long ring jacket and sunglasses already on as he nods to Hartman.
HARTMAN: “Bronx, you seem as loose as ever for the biggest match you’ve ever had in 4CW, and the biggest match most possibly of your career…How do you feel?”
Popping his jacket, Bronx flashed a bright smile to Hartman and gave a shrug as he pat the backstage announcer on the back.
VALESCENCE: “Hartman…It’s just graps, baby. How can you not like this? The best crowd, one of the hottest events of the year in 4CW…I came back and did what I said I would do in winning that South Beach Brawl tournament…And now there’s only one last step before I do what I said I would accomplish in my very first promo in 4CW…Become 4CW Champion. Life. Is. Good.”
Gabriel pulled the microphone back.
HARTMAN: “Some have said you may not be ready for this match because one of the weaker fields for the South Beach Brawl cup, how would you respond.”
Smirking, Bronx rubbed his chin.
VALESCENCE: “I would tell them it was full of champions. I would tell them that I can’t help who is put in front of me. I can only win matches. If you listen to noise like that, it’ll drive you crazy. People like that only want to bring you down. People like that don’t want to see you succeed. And they’ll be driven crazy when they see me…As the 4CW Champion.”
Nodding with the pop that came with those words he looked back over to Gabriel.
HARTMAN: “It seems as if you and Eli have remained friendly throughout this venture into the title match, does any of that change tonight?”
Bronx shook his head.
VALESCENCE: “Listen, Hartman. This is a job. Just like any other job on the planet. Sometimes you work with people you dislike. Sometimes you work with people you like. My job is to put Eli down enough for a three count. My job is do whatever it takes to win the title and I realize that his job is to defend it. No matter what happens tonight, I’ll look at Eli square in the eye and shake his hand after this match. If I win, I’ll thank him for his title run, if I lose? I’ll thank him for the opportunity…Simple as that.”
He turned towards the camera and looked into it.
VALESCENCE: “But don’t think for a second…That business means I’m soft, or just because I love what I do doesn’t mean I won’t fight like hell to get something I want…Or in the future defend for something I want to keep…Tonight…Tonight is the biggest night in my career…Tonight…I prove the doubters wrong and tonight…It’s going to be all…About…ME!”
Bronx ruffled Hartman’s hair as he disappeared out of shot as somewhere in the park his music hit as the cameras flashed back out into the park.


VASSA: ”Ladies and Gentlemen… it’s time.”
JOHNSON: ”What a night we’ve had up to this point and Vinny, I have to say, if there are two people in this company who could top what we’ve seen up to now it’s these two.”
VASSA: ”The challenger, Bronx Valescence, and the champion, Elijah Carlson. What a build it has been to this moment from the second that All or Nothing came to a close.”
JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a field of eight competitors get whittled down to one single last man standing. The question is does Bronx have what it takes to topple the king?”
VASSA: ”If you ask me, Steve, the answer is no. Eli touched on some key points earlier this week and the champ has very rarely been wrong about an opponent.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s no question that our reigning 4CW Champion shines the brightest on the grandest stages, but Bronx has been mister consistent since returning to 4CW. I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”
VASSA: ”Not in a million years. Bronx is a hell of a competitor but Eli has proven on more than one occasion that he’s willing to risk life and limb for that championship.”
JOHNSON: ”Soon enough we’ll find out if the reign of Elijah Carlson is going to continue on, or if tonight marks the beginning of Generation Bronx.”
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 the Twenty-Seventeen South Beach Brawl Cup winner… 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.
VASSA: ”Have to admit Bronx looks calm and collected and he better be because if he isn’t Eli is going to pick him apart piece by piece.”
JOHNSON: ”I’d guess he’s like a duck, Vinny. Cool on the surface but paddling like crazy beneath. This is the biggest night in the career of Bronx Valescence. Bar none.”
The lights around the park go dim as the sounds of a guitar riff begin to reverberate from the speakers around the park. 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

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 his classic black wrestling trunks, name scrawled across the back with a crown dotting the I and a leather jacket adoring his upper body.. Over his right shoulder the glittering 4CW Championship hangs loosely, a mixture of cheers with a few boo’s reigning down upon him. 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: ”Making his way to the ring standing six feet one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds… he is the REIGNING… DEFENDING… 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 boo’s and cheers once more erupt around the park. Unphased by it, Eli points at the title and then at his chest before hopping down back to the mat.
VASSA: ”And there he is. Love him or hate him, you can’t deny that he has been at the forefront of this company for months now.”
JOHNSON: ”What he has accomplished in such a short period of time is remarkable. But tonight, coming off a loss to Persephone Marquis, the true mettle of the champion is going to be tested against one of the most respected competitors in our the industry today.”
Having turned the title over to the referee after removing his jacket, Eli bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet as Bronx hops down off of the top turnbuckle. The referee instructs them both to come to the middle of the ring where the rules of the match are explained to the two of them. Once finished he offers the two men the opportunity to shake hands at which point Eli offers his to Bronx. After a moment’s hesitation Bronx returns the gestures before both men back away to their corners where they are quickly and efficiently checked for foreign objects. When all of the pre-match procedures are complete the referee checks to make sure both men are ready one more time before signalling for the bell.

VASSA: ”Here we go!”
JOHNSON: ”And our Main Event of the evening is under way.”
Eli wastes little time moving to the center of the ring with Bronx mimicking the action, the distance between the two closing in the blink of an eye. The challenger begins as the aggressor, swinging with a right hand which Eli blocks with his left, driving his head forward directly into his opponent’s chin. Valescence stumbles backwards momentarily before catching himself against the ropes, using them for momentum to launch himself back into a full sprint in Eli’s direction. He swings with a clothesline attempt but Eli ducks under it and slams on the breaks once he’s one step past Bronx. As Bronxy turns back around to face Eli the crowd gasps, sensing what’s coming before it happened.

JOHNSON: ”Down goes Bronx! Eli with the quick cover.”

Having not hooked the leg, Bronx was able to twist out of the move that had put so many other competitors down for the count. A smirk formed on Eli’s face as he pushed himself back up to his feet, his left hand reaching up to clutch at his right shoulder, rubbing it for a brief moment before reaching down and pulling Bronx back up to his feet by the hair. Quickly Eli backs Bronx up into the corner and straightens him up by placing the palm of his left hand into his sternum. Enjoying himself, Eli snaps a chop across the chest of the challenger, causing Bronx to lean forward clutching at his chest. The champ repeats the process of straightening Bronxy back up and then snapping another chop to the identical spot on his chest, a red welt beginning to appear. Three more times Eli goes through the same process before whipping Bronx out of the corner and across the ring into the opposite corner.
Following closely behind, Eli runs just a couple of paces back but as Bronx connects with the turnbuckle he fires out, spearing Eli down to the mat and then mounting him, delivering clobbering lefts and rights to the forehead of the 4CW Champion. Desperately Eli covers up, bringing both forearms up to protect his face, enduring the assault with his foot hooked over the bottom rope until the referee stepped in with a five count and then forced Bronx back to his original corner, leaving the champion to recover for a brief period of time.
As soon as the referee moved to allow the match to resume, Bronx trounced back across the ring and pulled Eli back up to his feet by his hair. Quickly Bronx drives two more strikes into Eli’s forehead before clasping him on both sides of the head and bringing his own forward into the champions nose. Carlson recoils in pain, grasping at his nose while backing away from Bronx who refuses to give him any room to breathe. Instead he flattens Eli down to the mat with a running european uppercut.
”Good recovery from Bronx here after a quick start from Eli that nearly ended this match before it ever really begun.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s doing exactly what he needs to do, staying on the offensive and refusing to allow Eli the opportunity to implement his gameplan.”
VASSA: ”And that is absolutely key. As talented as Bronx is, we’ve seen what Eli can do once he has a match fully in his control.”
JOHNSON: ”You just have to wonder if Bronx can keep up such a relentless pace and wear the champion down or if he’ll do himself in instead.”
Trying to get separation between himself and his opponent, Eli rolls in pain towards the corner. Bronx quickly scouts it and dashes across the ring, stepping over Eli before leaping, his thighs bouncing off the top rope and flipping him over into a moonsault that lands flush across Eli’s chest. A perfect split legged moonsault. The challenger quickly transitions into a pinfall attempt but the referee waves it off, pointing at Eli’s foot that was once more draped over the bottom rope.
Bronx pushes himself so that he’s resting on his knees, his hands upon his thighs as he shoots an annoyed glare at the referee. It’s only for a moment, though, before his assault continues, this time transitioning into mat wrestling. His arm quickly hooks around the neck of the champion and begins wrenching violently on it. Growling in response, Eli slowly begins to maneuver himself closer to the center of the ring, trying to get his legs under him as Bronx continually torques on the hold, trying to halt his progress.
Raising his hand in the air, Eli begins to shake his closed fist as the fans begin to clap along, trying to encourage the champ to fight the hold and get back to his feet. Eventually Eli manages to get back up to one knee, and then to a standing but bent over position as Bronx maintained the headlock. Using his legs, Eli drives Bronx towards the ropes and presses him against them before using the momentum from the ropes to shove Bronx off of him into a sprint across the ring.
On the rebound, Eli leapfrogs Bronx and lands on his feet deftly. On the second rebound, Eli turns and blocks a right hand, ducking underneath and swinging around behind Bronx. Fluidly, Eli hooks his arm and leg around Bronx and takes him down with a quick russian leg sweep. As soon as the challenger impacts the mat, Eli kipped back up to his feet to a round of applause that broke out into a cheer as he roared, feeling pendulum of momentum swing back in his favor. While he isn’t looking, though, Bronx climbs quickly back to his feet and takes off in the champions direction, leaping and driving him down to the mat with a bulldog.
VASSA: ”And that’s what happens when you take your eye of the ball.”
JOHNSON: ”A bit uncharacteristic of Eli, to be honest. Usually we find ourselves saying that his opponents should have known better but in this instance, he absolutely should have known better.”
VASSA: ”And just like that, when it seemed like Eli had snatched momentum out of thin air, Bronx is back in control.”
JOHNSON: ”The wrestling gods appear to be favoring him tonight.”
Dragging Eli back up yet again, Bronx latches onto Eli’s right wrist and twists his arm, causing the champion to cry out in pain and clutch at his right shoulder. Instantly the eyes of Bronx light up, recognizing he’s found a chink in the armor of the champion. Immediately Bronx lifts Eli’s arm up a few feet and then jerks down on it viciously, the pain shooting through Eli’s shoulder buckling him to a knee.
VASSA: ”Uh oh…”
JOHNSON: ”If you watched the champion’s promotional work this week you’ll notice that he seemed to be favoring his right shoulder.”
VASSA: ”And yet he was cleared to compete here tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s not like you could have kept him from defending his title anyway, Vinny. But for the first time we’re seeing that maybe, just maybe, whatever lingering effects remained from his match with Marquis still haven’t fully gone away.”
Holding onto his wrist, Bronx uses all his strength to whip Eli towards the nearby corner. On impact, Eli clutches at his back and staggers out of the corner as Bronx approaches. Valescence grabs onto the back of Eli’s wrestling trunks and spins him around, launching him shoulder first between the top and middle turnbuckle, his right shoulder colliding with the steel turnbuckle post, leaving Eli hanging awkwardly.
Without pause, Bronx moved steadily towards Eli and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him out from between the two turnbuckle pads, and tossed him overhead. Instead of crashing to the mat, however, Eli flipped full over and landed on his feet, stumbling backwards and down to one knee where he clutched at his right shoulder, trying to soothe the searing pain away. As he pushed himself back up to his feet, Bronx turned to face him and charged to continue his attack but was quickly halted by a snap kick to the outside of his left knee.
Quickly, Eli shot in to take him down with a single leg takedown, which Bronx stuffed by sprawling and pressing down hard on the back of Eli’s right shoulder. Collapsing in pain to his hands and knees, Eli did his best to scramble back to his feet but was met by a waiting Bronx who stepped towards him and thrust his right foot into the air.

JOHNSON: ”He took out the ref with that kick and that poor bastard is out cold.”
At the last second Eli had managed to drop down and roll out of the way, leaving the boot of Bronx to collide flush with the jaw of the referee. For a half moment, Bronx stared in disbelief at the fallen body of the referee, before turning back to resume his attack on the champion. But as he turned he was caught by a blur of motion.

JOHNSON: ”Holy shit! That knocked Bronx all the way out of the ring.”
Just as Bronx had turned Eli’s boot had connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling across the ring and through the middle and top ropes, tumbling down to the mat outside of the ring. Inside the ring Eli turned his attention to the referee, kneeling down beside him to try to shake him awake with his left hand but with no luck. Then, he returned to a standing position and looked back and forth between the fallen referee and the fallen Bronx, who was just beginning to push himself back up to his feet.
With a grimace, Eli rubbed his shoulder and positioned himself in the middle of the ring, lining Bronx up outside as the crowd began to buzz sensing something big coming. When Bronx pushed himself up to one knee, Eli turned and bounced off the ropes, running across the ring and diving through the ropes, colliding with the body of Bronx just as he had stood back up fully, driving him into the security barrier outside of the ring.
Recovering and rolling to his knees before getting up, Eli pulls a dazed Bronx back up to his feet and hooks his arm around the challengers neck, backing up to the nearby steel ring steps. Before Eli can full execute the ddt he had intended to use to drive Bronx face first into the steps, Bronx instead slipped free of his grip and shove him into the steps instead.
VASSA: ”Ouch!”
JOHNSON: ”Eli just toppled over those steps and tried to catch himself with his bad arm.”
VASSA: ”I think he’s regretting that decision now.”
As Eli returned to his feet, Bronx hopped up onto the ring apron and quickly moved in his opponent’s direction, diving off and crashing into Eli with a diving senton off the ring apron leaving both men to hit the ground with a violent thud. Inside the ring the referee is still down and out with no sign of getting up anytime soon, leaving the two men who were down outside of the ring to take their time recovering without any threat of being counted out.
With each passing moment the crowd began to get more anxious. Slowly both men began to roll to their stomachs and return to their feet. When they stood, Eli fired a stiff left hand that connected cleanly and staggered him back half a step. Bronx returned to strike with a left of his own, which with Eli’s arm in the state that it was in, found its mark undefended and caused the champion to stumble back and collapse across the barrier at the bottom of the entrance ramp.
Looking to do major damage, Bronx turned and climbed up onto the barrier opposite of Eli. As he was steadying himself, though, the champion bolted across and shoved Bronx off and into the crowd. Following suit, Eli climbed up onto the barrier and leapt off and knocked Bronx fully down to the floor with a flying cross body.
VASSA: ”Where are they going?!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m not sure but what we expected to be a straight up wrestling match is devolving pretty quickly.”
VASSA: ”We need another official out here to get things back under control. I think that guy might be dead.
JOHNSON: ”That guy has a name, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”Yeah but referee’s aren’t really people.”
JOHNSON: ”Oh for Christ’s sake.”
In the crowd, Bronx and Eli continue to brawl back and forth, making no effort to block the strikes of the other. Through the park they began to push further and further up towards the top of the ramp until they, yet again, ran into the barrier. Lowering his left shoulder, Eli speared Bronx into the barrier expecting it to give way but absorbing almost as much of the impact as his opponent did.
In a daze, Eli unsteadily got back to his feet and rolled himself over the barrier, moving to grab Bronx and drag him partially over the barrier himself. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head to send the stars he was seeing away before bringing Bronx violently down face first with a ddt to the cold concrete floor at the bottom of the staging area that the entrance ramp connected to.
With Bronx down, Eli took a moment to rest against the side of the stage and catch his breath, sparing a quick glance at the ring and finding the referee was still down and out. He then turned and climbed up onto the stage and made his way over to the structure that held the video screens up. With his left hand he reached out and tugged on them briefly before turning back and walking to the edge of the stage, looking down at where Bronx was lying. He then hopped down and drug Bronx over to a set of equipment boxes with cords piled on top of them and drove a few stiff shots into the challengers forehead before depositing him onto the series of boxes.
Once more, Eli moved to climb back up onto the stage. Once there he looked up and took a singular deep breath of air into his lungs before grabbing onto the structure with his left hand.
VASSA: ”Oh no. Oh no. Oh nonono.”
JOHNSON: ”What’s going through the mind of the champion right now. We’ve seen him put his body on the line time and time again throughout his championship reign.”
VASSA: ”Someone has to stop him.”
JOHNSON: ”You can see the strain on his face as he ascends the structure at the top of the ramp and yet even as the crowd is on the edge of their seats, there’s no way this ends well for Eli or for Bronx.”
Second after second passes as Eli ascends and gets nearer to the top of the structure. Down on the boxes Bronx coughs and clutches at his stomach and head but shows no signs of getting up.
Finally, at the top of the structure, Eli hooks his right leg over and pulls himself all the way up, taking a moment to steady himself and stand upright above the large screens at the top of the ramp. There’s only one way down now and Eli recognizes that fact as once more he takes a calming breath and surveys the area beneath him where he had placed Bronx. And then time froze.
One one thousand.
Two one thousand.

JOHNSON: ”Someone get the medical personnel out here right now! Someone check on them!”
It’s absolute carnage off the edge of the stage where the bodies of Elijah Carlson and Bronx Valescence lie motionless. From the backstage area medics and stage crew flood the scene, checking on both men. Neither is showing any signs of life as the crowd looks on, astonished and unsure of how to react. The camera’s pan around showing glimpses of men and women with their hands over their mouths, or both hands placed on their heads with their jaws drooping low and their eyes opened wide in shock.
At the top of the stage Perry Wallace stands, pupils dilated, surveying the destruction with other ring officials and stage crew surrounding him. While the medics do their work you can be certain that Wallace and his employees are considering whether or not to continue the match or to put a halt to it right then and there. More so the other staff. Perry on the other hand, begins freaking out, grabbing handfuls of his hair and pulling away at it. Inside the ring the referee who had absorbed the superkick has finally begun to stir and has managed to find himself in a seated position in the corner of the ring, still oblivious to anything that was going on concerning the match.
JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen we’ve witnessed a lot of crazy things in our time with 4CW but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything like this.”
VASSA: ”Of course at this time our thoughts are with both Bronx and Eli. Hopefully neither of them have suffered any major injuries.”
JOHNSON: ”We’re just waiting for word to officially declare this match over but the way it looks is that it will be called a no decision and Elijah Carlson will retain.”
Slowly, both men are placed onto stretchers and carefully those stretchers are lifted up onto the entrance ramp where they begin to be rolled up the ramp. As they pass by, Wallace pauses to get a closer look at both men, before his eyes widen and he screams as loudly as he can. The zebra striped man immediately began a sprint down the entrance ramp to where Mike Powers was stationed in the DJ Booth. As soon as the official stopped talking and backed away from Powers a hush fell over the park.
POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen.. Due to unforeseen circumstances and the inability of either participant to continue I have been instructed to inform you that this match has been declared a dr-”
A buzz of excitement from the fans seated near the stage overtakes the entire park as Bronx Valescence emerges from the backstage area with Elijah Carlson still strapped to the stretcher. Angrily he rips various pieces of medical tape and bandages off of his body before hurling the stretcher off the side of the stage. As he falls the restraints break and Eli tumbles down to the floor, laying there for a moment before he began to crawl slowly back to his feet.
VASSA: ”Well I don’t know if that decision is actually official or not but Bronx seems determined that this match is going to continue.”
JOHNSON: ”Look at Wallace! You can see the concern on his face.”
VASSA: ”Concern? That mother fucker is tripping balls right now!”
JOHNSON: ”And waved the match on. There you have it folks, this match is going to pick up once again and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this kind of fire in the man known as Bronx.”
Screaming madly with wonder in his eyes, Perry then runs through the crowd, fleeing the scene and chasing the bright lights across the park.
Grabbing Eli by his hair, Bronx pulls him fully back up to his feet and begins to drag him back down the entrance ramp. Inside the ring the referee has finally recovered and taken notice of the fact that the two men who should have been in the ring were not. Immediately the man begins to count the both out as Bronx brings his opponent closer and closer to the ring.
”One! … Two! … Three! … Four!”

At the base of the ramp, Eli slams his foot into the ground bringing Bronx’s momentum to a halt before driving his left elbow into the challengers abdomen. He then takes Bronx by the hair and sends him rolling into the ring before standing up straight and stretching out in discomfort. His right arm droops and hangs loosely at his side.
VASSA: ”Ugh. Look at Eli’s shoulder.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s not what the human shoulder and arm are supposed to look like, folks.”
He manages to pull his right arm up and position it against his abdomen before moving to climb up onto the ring apron just as Bronx was recovering in the ring. Before Eli can return to the ring Bronx catches him, grabbing him by the back of the hair as he stands on the ring apron. Valescence then pulls Eli down to the turnbuckle and smashes his face off of it. As Eli recoils and turns away from Bronx, Bronx steps up onto the middle rope and latches his arms around Eli’s waist.
With all the strength he can muster, Bronx pulls Eli up and over and then down to the mat with a german suplex. TWEET DELETE! Quickly, Bronx spins and covers, hooking the leg.

VASSA: ”Perfectly executed Tweet Delete! How the hell did Eli just kick out of that after all he’s been through in this match?”
JOHNSON: ”Say what you want about him but he truly does shine the brightest on the grandest stages. It’s going to take a colossal effort for Bronx to put him away.”
Frustration setting in, Bronx sits up and slams his fists down on the mat, shouting at the referee to count faster. A moment later a look of disbelief flashes across the eyes of the challenger as Eli begins to push himself up with his one good arm, slowly getting back to his feet.
Bronx, though not in the best condition himself, still gets back to his feet more quickly than his opponent and is quick to lock his arms around Eli’s waist once more, this time with both men inside the ring. Eli fights him off with two consecutive back left elbows to the temple. Free of Bronx’s grasp, Eli turns and swings trying to take the challengers head off but Bronx ducks under and once more hooks his arms around Eli’s waist. Quickly, Bronx runs him forward driving his sternum into the turnbuckle before rolling backwards, taking Eli with him, and then executing a perfect bridging german suplex. Once more the referee, with both of Eli’s shoulders down, slides in to count the pinfall attempt.

The crowd explodes as Eli kicks out of the bridging pinfall attempt at the absolute death. Frustration gone, desperation begins to appear on the face of Bronxy V, staring at Eli who is once again beginning to work his way back to a standing position, unsure of what in the hell he’s going to have to do to put the man away for good.
As the champion once more gets back up to his feet, Bronx stalks him carefully. Back up at a vertical base, Eli stumbles, a glassy look in his eyes as he tries to steady himself. As he turns, Bronx sprints at him and instinctively Eli bends down, looking to launch his opponent over his head with a back body drop but instead it plays perfectly into Bronx’s hand as he leaps and flips over, slamming Eli down to the mat. VALESCENCE’S VICTORY!
The champions body bounces off of the mat on impact and flops over onto his stomach. A relieved Bronx drops to his knees and rolls Eli over, pressing his forearm down across the upper torso of the champion to keep him down as yet again the referee slides in to count the pinfall.

Unable to kickout, Eli shows his ring presence by slipping his foot over the bottom rope once more. A howl of frustration escapes the lips of Bronx who begins to drive his elbow down into the right collarbone of the champion. Upon impact, Elijah screams in agony, absorbing the strikes before the referee could dive in and separate Bronx from his opponent.
VASSA: ”I just… I just… I don’t know what… I can’t believe my eyes, Steve.”
JOHNSON: ”Bronx has literally hit Eli with every single move in his repertoire and the champion will not stay down.”
VASSA: ”Look. Steve. Look!”
JOHNSON: ”Holy Shi-…. Elijah Carlson is getting back to his feet AGAIN!”
Indeed, Eli was pulling himself back to his feet using the assistance of the rope as Bronx rested in his corner, staring across the ring in complete disbelief while Eli draped himself across the top rope to hold himself up. A few deep breaths lead him to push himself off of the ropes and, on unsteady feet, he gestured with his left hand at Bronx to bring more on.
Obliging the champion, Bronx shot across the ring in his direction and missed narrowly with a clothesline that Eli ducked under. As soon as Eli ducked under it the crowd popped out of their seats, fully expecting what was coming next. A simple flip and Eli launched a pele kick in the direction he expected Bronx’s face to be when he turned back around. At the last second, though, Bronx barely managed to sidestep the trademark kick of the champion, leaving Eli to crash to the mat landing awkwardly once again on his right shoulder.
As Eli rolled over to begin to try and get back up, Bronx didn’t give him the space and instead took hold of Eli’s right arm and torqued it violently backwards with a fujiwara arm bar. A scream of fury escaped Bronx’s lips as the referee slid in, checking on Eli to see if he was going to tap out.
VASSA: ”I’m going to be sick.”
JOHNSON: ”Bronx taking full advantage of the injured shoulder of Eli Carlson and folks, he’s got him caught right in the middle of the ring.”
VASSA: ”Tap out, Eli! Oh my god that’s disgusting.”
JOHNSON: ”If you’ve got kids up and watching at home, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to put them to bed.”
Continuing to shake his head no at the referee’s continued question, Eli tries to work himself to the ropes. Inch by inch he scoots as the submission hold is only locked in deeper with every move he makes. From Bronx’s mouth the words ask him flow in broken record fashion. Around the park the fans are screaming and shouting, a mixture of excitement and wonder filling their cries. Reaching out with his leg, Eli stretches for the rope..
And stretches…
And stretches…
Only for Bronx to pull him back to the middle of the ring, away from the possibility of a rope break, before locking the arm bar back in, torquing the hold as viciously as he could once more. Eli continues to shake his head but as the referee checks to see if he wants to give up the champions head begins to shake slower…
Until finally he doesn’t protest any longer. Without getting any further reaction from Eli, the referee taps him on the face to check on him before determining that the champion has passed out from the pain. Immediately the referee pops up and signals for the bell, turning then and tapping on the shoulder of Bronx to let him know the match was over.

VASSA: ”What an unbelievable showing from both men. What a match. I’m at a loss for words, Vinny.”
JOHNSON: ”Elijah Carlson promised to leave it all on the line tonight and boy, did he ever.”
VASSA: ”And Bronxy promised to leave South Beach Brawl as the new 4CW Champion and boy, did he ever.”
JOHNSON: ”These two men absolutely left it all in the ring and, well, all over this park too.”
Inside the ring, Bronx sits back with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking up at the lights and soaking in the moment as the emotions of becoming the new 4CW Champion sweep over him. A few feet away, Eli begins to stir as the medics flood out from the back once more. From the DJ booth, Mike Powers announces the result of the match.
POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen… here is your winner by submission… and NEW FOUR CORNERS WRESTLING CHAMPION… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”
Finally standing, Bronx raises his arms in the air victoriously as the referee holds onto his wrist and points in his direction. Unbeknownst to the referee or Bronx, Eli has rolled himself out of the ring and hobbled over to the time keepers table, snatching the 4CW Championship with his left hand. He stares at the shining belt with his name etched across it one last time and heaves a deep breath in and out of his lungs, his eyes closing momentarily. By this time, inside the ring, Bronx has taken notice of what the fallen champion was doing and watches him warily.
As he opens his eyes once more, Eli turns back toward the ring and slowly drags the weight of his body to the ring apron, rolling into the ring with the belt and pushing himself back up to his feet. Once more, with their war over, Bronx and Eli stand face to face in the center of the ring, a vast gulf of emotions etched into both of their faces. Joy and jubilation in Bronx’s eyes, sadness and acceptance in Eli’s. A few more long moments pass before Eli’s head drops for a brief second, his eyes drifting up to meet Bronx’s gaze slowly as he extended the 4CW Championship belt over to the new champion.
Reaching out with his now free hand, Eli patted Bronx on the shoulder and his words could be heard clear as day, cutting through the silence of the uneasy crowd.
CARLSON: ”Do better with it. They deserve it.”
Eli pointed to the fans and then nodded to Bronx, walking past him and sliding himself out of the ring into the care of the 4CW medical crew. His arm dangled, clearly badly injured, as they helped him up onto a stretcher and wheeled him to the back.
Inside the ring, Bronx’s gaze fell to the new gold in his hands. A smile forming on his lips and bursting into a full blown grin as he raised the 4CW Championship into the air, taking to the nearby ropes as confetti popped and reigned down upon him, fireworks exploding in the air loudly.
JOHNSON: ”Well I’ll be damned. After weeks and weeks of disrespect, I can’t believe what I just saw.”
VASSA: ”Eli showing respect? It’s an odd sight, isn’t it?”
JOHNSON: ”This was one for the record books tonight folks. These two men took each other to their limits and we now have a new 4CW Champion.”
VASSA: ”It’s ashamed his pops isn’t around to ruin this moment for him as he loses his mind hallucinating.”
Standing in the center of the ring, Bronx lays the 4CW Championship across the canvas, face up. Walking to the edge of the ring, Bronx calls for a microphone and is quickly given one by a member of the ringside crew. He then walks back to the center of the ring and drops down to both knees in front of the 4CW Championship.
VALESCENCE: “Life is just…Full of twists and turns. When I debuted into this business. I thought I was destined to be a loser. I thought I was destined for second place and for a long time I was okay with that. I was okay with just being in the conversation. I was okay with just putting on good matches and I was just okay with being someone that the champion should be worried about. I told myself that this business needed something like that, they needed the competitor, they needed the warrior who was just good enough…And for so long I’ve just had my face pressed against that glass ceiling.”
Bronx paused to catch his breath, as he did there was a smattering of applause as he looked down at the belt before looking back up to the crowd.
VALESCENCE: “I won titles, but they felt empty because the things I really wanted to win I always came up just a hair short. When I came to 4CW, I did so when nobody else thought I would—and that’s been my story. I’ll go places where people don’t think I’ll fit in, I’ll go places where people think I won’t succeed and I shatter expectations…and I’ve finally done that in 4CW…”
Another pop to allow Bronx to catch his breath as he got up to one knee and tossed the title over his shoulder.
VALESCENCE: “I struggled to find my identity. For a while I was the GIW guy, the guy who was at the top in a rival company but couldn’t win the main strap. For a while I was some depressed guy wearing a mask. Then I decided that I was going to be myself, because before I have to live with anyone in that locker room or out in the crowd…I’ve got to live with myself. I love life. I love this business. I love PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. I love the fucking graps.”
As he chuckled, the crowd cheered.
VALESCENCE: “Winning this belt isn’t special to me because I made a name for myself in GIW and NGW. It isn’t special because I’m an outsider and now the champion. It makes it special because of that FUCKING locker room.”
Bronx got up to his feet and walked over to the ropes and pointed towards the back.
VALESCENCE: “It makes it special because of how good each and every person is who steps through that curtain. This championship doesn’t mean shit without Eli Carlson, without Jair Hopkins, without Jason Cashe, without Dakota Smith, without Persephone Marquis, without Bryan Williams, without Sativa Nevaeh, without Tara Davidson and Alexis Morrison, without Adrian Tanner and Johnny Evil. Scott Stevens and Genevie Carlson. THAT’S what makes this fucking belt special to me. Because of how good they are, and even just for a MINUTE…I am on top…Because nobody will ever be able to take this moment away from me. Nobody will ever be able to erase my name from the history books, and nobody will be able to say my name without the 4CW Championship attached to it. “
Turning his back he walked back to the middle of the ring and dropped the belt around his waist and looked around to the crowd.
VALESCENCE: “Everyone knows I came back to win the South Beach Brawl Cup, but as much as I said it. I never thought I would see myself with the 4CW Championship…And fuck…Here it is. For all of those who have doubted me. This is for you. For all who have supported me down this walk to glory…This is for you. Because tonight…Bronx Valescence is YOUR 4CW GRAPS CHAMPION…BAYBAYYYYYY!!”
With that, Bronx dropped the mic with a thump and walked over to the middle turnbuckle and unstrapped the belt and held it into the air with one hand and a finger gun out with the other hand as he looked out over the crowd.
JOHNSON: ”Heart warming if I do say so myself.”
VASSA: ”He put it all on the line tonight and there he stands, our new 4CW Champion.”
JOHNSON: ”Folks, it’s been one heck of a night.”
VASSA: ”What are you talking about? The night and party is only getting started!”
JOHNSON: ”This wouldn’t be South Beach Brawl with a big after party. Each and every wrestler here gave it their all tonight and everyone should be proud. Win or lose, we should all unite tonight and celebrate.”
VASSA: ”I don’t know about you but I’m about to go get hammered!”
JOHNSON: ”You know what? I think I might as well.”
VASSA: ”There you have it! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”
JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, it has been my pleasure to call tonight’s event for you all watching around the world. On behalf of everyone here in 4CW, we’ll see you all in two weeks. I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Next up is Ante Up and we’re taking the show back to our home territory baby! WWWWOOOOOOOO!!! GOOD NIGHT FOLKS!!!”
With that, the sound feed from the booth goes silent as the camera transitions back to a shot inside of the ring where Bronx celebrates his hard earned victory tonight. With the championship held high above his head, he presents it to the crowd not only at Bayfront Park, but to those watching from around the world. Lowering the championship, he holds it in both hands, staring down at its beauty as the scene slowly begins to fade to black.