ADRENALINE E65 (100)

4CW ADRENALINE E65 MAY 10TH, 2017
ORACLE ARENA OAKLAND, CA

PRE-SHOW
LUKE JONES VS. DICK

Making his return to 4CW, Luke Jones kicked off the pre-show against resident 4CW jobber, Dick. Off to a slow start, Luke was pulverized by Dick in the early moments of the match. Unable to defend himself against the vicious clown, Luke was on the receiving end of a mouthful of Dick as rights and lefts rained down over his face.

Turning things around mid match, Luke gained leverage on Dick as he thrust him into the corner and followed up with a swift dropkick to Dick’s head. With the clown trapped in the corner with nowhere to go, Luke hit him with a series of headbutts, getting up close and personal with Dick.

Finding a second wind, Dick bursts from the corner, wrapping his arms around Luke’s lower legs and driving him backwards to the center of the ring. With Dick’s head unprotected, Luke began beating him off of his legs until pulling him up to his feet and finishing him off with the Annihilation. With Dick limp in the body and unable to move, Luke mounted himself on top as the official slapped the mat three times, ending the match.

WINNER: Luke Jones via Pinfall (4:56)

PRE-SHOW
SYDNEY RIDDLE VS. ANASTASIA HAYDEN

Anastasia was looking to start her 4CW career off right, and boy did she. Sydney Riddle started the match off with a collar and elbow tie up, but Ana quickly took advantage of the hold. Spinning out into a wristlock, she quickly takes her down with Northern Lights Suplex. Sydney tries fighting back, connecting with a few forearms and a running dropkick. Ana handles the storm, picking her spot to come back with a well placed Roundhouse Kick!

With Sydney Riddle down, Anastasia goes full force with an offensive flurry. A Switchblade kick connects, causing Sydney to scurry to the corner. A corner facewash soon follows, setting Sydney up for a Corner Yakuza Kick!

With her opponent staggered, Ana places herself on the other side of the ring. She waits for her opponent to rise, connecting with the Running Single Leg Dropkick! ‘She Was Only Seventeen’ connects fully, as Sydney lays motionless on the mat. It only take three seconds for Ana to be declared the victor!

WINNER: Anastasia Hayden via Pinfall (3:12)

PRE-SHOW
RONNIE HARRIS VS. DEANDRE JOHNSON JR.

Making his 4CW debut, DeAndre Johnson came straight out the gate holding nothing back. From the start, DeAndre gained control of the match hitting Ronnie with a series of spinning heel kicks and following it up with a fisherman’s suplex. Not giving Ronnie a chance to gain any traction, DeAndre leveled him in the center of the ring with a sit-out powerslam.

After a few minutes of dominating the match, DeAndre kicked things up a notch and brought the crowd to their feet as he hit Ronnie with a bronco buster. Realizing that the match is nearly over, DeAndre finally finished Ronnie off with the Issa Wrap, forcing him to submit after only second of being locked in.

WINNER: DeAndre Johnson via Submission (4:33)

The scene opens up to a shot from inside of the ring at the Oracle Arena in Oakland, California. The house is packed tonight as 4CW celebrates its one hundredth event. As “Bulls On Parade” plays in the background, barely heard over the roaring of the crowd, the camera pans over the fans in attendance, zooming in to various signs held throughout the crowd.

CENTURY MARK

#PERRYREPORT

WE MISS
FELICITY

OPEN INVITE
TO EVERYONE
EXCEPT YOU

A NEW ERA OF
CHAMPIONS

Down at the booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa await their signal to kick the show off. With a smile on his face, Johnson looks into the nearby camera as the feed switches to it.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to our one hundredth event, Adrenaline Sixty-Five!”

VASSA: ”If South Beach Brawl wasn’t big enough, tonight is going to be just as huge!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m your host, Steve Johnson, and we come to you live tonight from the Oracle Arena in Oakland, California!”

VASSA: ”I’m Vinny Vassa and yes, I’m still hungover from the after party at South Beach Brawl.”

JOHNSON: ”We have a huge night in store for you all watching as 4CW hosts this landmark event, hitting the century mark after consistently delivering the action right to your TV’s.”

VASSA: ”The landscape of champions is completely different since the last time you were with us opening a show. As you all know, every singles championship in 4CW changed hands just two weeks ago.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed they di–“

POWERS: “Please welcome to the ring….The NEWWWWWWWWWW 4CW Champion… BRONX VVAA::EESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”What the?”

VASSA: ”I believe our new 4CW Champion would like to kick the show off tonight on this historic event.”

The lights go down as the house strobes begin to flash on and off slowly as the opening of “Stranger Things” began to kick up on the house systems. On the last beat, the strobes went down as “Starboy” by the Weekend began to play over the Stranger things beat, the crowd gives a pop as they know what comes next. Bronx Valescence slowly walks through the curtain, wearing the most god-awful jacket you’ve ever seen in your entire life. The jacket was plaid and different colors of red and blue blended in, Bronx wore a powder blue tie and pants to match. Sunglasses cover his eyes as he walks out on stage, something mysteriously missing from his ensemble.

JOHNSON: “I know Bronx Valescence has been waiting on this moment for a long, long time…and…”

VASSA: “What in the hell is he wearing?”

Looking around on stage, Bronx pauses before he holds up a finger and then goes back behind the curtains on the stage.

JOHNSON: “Well folks, that was our new 4CW Champion Bronx Valescence.”

VASSA: “Bronx always said he wasn’t about wasting time. That was short and to the point.”

The crowd rose and popped as this time, Bronx came out of the curtain and unbuttoned the hideous jacket to show the 4CW Championship strapped around his waist as he pointed down at it as he made his way down towards the ring, unclasping the title and throwing it over his shoulder as he slapped hands on the way down to the ring.

Sliding up on the apron with one knee, he tossed the belt over his back and wiped his dress shoes on the apron before he stepped through the curtains with his arms open until he bounced off the ropes towards hard-camera as he pointed his finger gun before pulling the trigger, asking for a microphone.

As he gets the microphone, Bronx lays the title down in front of him in the ring as he gets down on his knees and looks over the belt with the microphone, listening to the crowd and letting them settle down before he spoke.

VALESCENCE: “Last week, I sat here on my hands and knees…Looking over top of a belt that I probably don’t deserve and I spilled my heart out to every man, woman and child in the building. Every person in that locker room. I said what was at the bottom of my heart. I told everyone how I felt…And I had a gush of emotion that was straight from my soul…About how thankful I am to be the 4CW Champion…And NOW…”

Bronx looked up from the title and extended one of his arms out with his palm up as he looked over the crowd.

VALESCENCE: “On 4CW’s one hundredth event…There’s only one man at the top of the mountain, and that is Bronx…Valescence. South Beach Brawl? When I was down on my knees and I was pouring everything I had out to that locker room? That will be the only time I bow my knee to anyone in that locker room.”

And as he spoke, he raised from his kneeling stance and back up to his own two feet as he reached down and picked the belt up with one hand and then tossed it over his shoulder.

VALESCENCE: “If you think this is going to be a championship run where I am just happy to be here, you’re wrong. If you think this is going to be a reign of kissing everyones ass every time I get out here on a microphone…You’re wrong. I’ve paid my dues, I’ve paid my respect…And now I know that everyone in that locker room has put the target on MY Back. Everyone is waiting for ME to slip up, and every move I make is watched with every single eye in that locker room. I proved them wrong when I won this title…I’ll prove them wrong, for those who think I can’t be a dominant champion.”

The crowd cheered as Bronx looked from side to side.

VALESCENCE: “This week…I don’t have a match…”

Bronx looked around as the crowd booed, Bronx nodded slowly and then pushed some of his hair from his eyes and away from his sunglasses.

VALESCENCE: “Not my decision. I would have put that belt on the line this week, but management felt it was best…And I respect that decision. Make no mistake about it though. I’ll have a front row seat…To that main event tonight to see who will be the first to stand against me at Ante Up…”

The crowd popped for the match, Bronx nodded in agreement once more.

VALESCENCE: “I’m not here to be satisfied with a championship win. I’m not here to be just okay with being a one time champion. I’m still here with the same goal. The prove I belong. To prove I can hang with the best, and just because I’ve got a belt? That’s not changing. Two weeks ago it was a thank you…Two weeks later…It’s a warning. It’s a warning for whoever steps to me for this championship…You’re about to find out why I won it in the first place.”

Lowering his glasses, Bronx winked before firing off his finger gun as the Stranger Things music began to play and Bronx strapped the 4CW Championship back around his waist as he got up and posed on the second turnbuckle much to the delight of the crowd as the scene faded to backstage.

Outside of the arena a small crowd has formed. Viduus and the Speaker stand on top of a jacked up black Ford F-150 Raptor. The Speaker is dressed in his usual white cloak while Viduus is dressed in his trench coat and usual outfit only with a shiny Extreme title draped over his shoulder. The Speaker holds a megaphone and we hear it crackle before he speaks.

SPEAKER: “Ladies and gentleman, children, brothers, sisters, and friends….before you stands a man who has risen above all expectation, overcome all odds, and reigns supreme as your Extreme Champion.”

The Speaker lets the message settle in as one or two people from the small crowd let out a slight cheer. Viduus’s face looks out over the crowd still healing from the many cuts and scrapes it received at South Beach Brawl.

SPEAKER: “He appears before you today to deliver a special message. A message he wanted to deliver from his very own mouth. The new blood king has risen and all of you shall open your ears, listen and hear what your champion says to you.”

Viduus scans the crowd with his eyes and motions with his left hand to the Speaker that he has no need for the megaphone. The people should be listening intently if they truly want to hear what he has to say.

MORTA: “Behind me the 4CW locker room occupies parts of the building. Many of the men and women languish in the company or present you with false idols that you believe to be more than they truly are. New champions have risen and old have fallen yet mostly the company operates business as usual.”

Viduus scans the crowd one again before a snarl cross his face and turns to a smile.

MORTA: “We took the Extreme Championship from the false idols you have known. We take it back from those who know nothing of violence, pain, and blood. We took back the Extreme Championship and we give it back to you..the people who thirst for this blood. The people who hunger for violence. This title is yours and I fight for those who live for the pain.”

The crowd erupts in a cheer which is something quite different for Viduus to experience.

MORTA: “We have challenges that lie before us and we will soon face a whole zoo of challengers. This title has languished under failed champions in the past but no more. This will be the only title that truly matters in this company. You are my children and all you need to do is step forward anyone who wishes to serve. The new challengers will be ripped away from their decadent lives and left with the taste of their own flesh and blood in their mouths. We will enjoy our reign. We will defend our title….we will endure…we will survive.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as we Viduus raises his title in the air and the broadcast goes back inside the arena.

The scene switches backstage to the rear entrance of the building where a long limousine has rolled up and come to a halt. For a few long moments the camera stays focused on the vehicle before the driver gets out and scurries around to the passenger side of the vehicle. Once there he opens the door for whoever is inside. A few more seconds of suspense pass before a tall man in a cowboy hat, a suit, and cowboy boots emerges from the vehicle with a smile on his face.

VASSA: ”Who the hell is that?!”

JOHNSON: ”What the hell do I look like a psychic? You know as much as I do, Vinny.”

As he stands he straightens his suit and runs his hands down the front of it to smooth it out before beginning to walk toward the arena without saying a word to anyone. The camera’s continue to follow him as he waves a cheerful smile to a few of the backstage workers who wave back with confused and uncertain looks on their faces. Just before the scene changes once more the camera picks up the man asking in a soft voice with a southern accent which direction he needed to go to find Perry Wallace.

VASSA: ”Maybe he’s a big shot in the FBI come to collect on all that information that Wallace hasn’t been passing along”

JOHNSON: ”Your guess is as good as mine. But I’d bet we’ll know more before the night is over.”

One of the workers, who holds a door open for him, points down the long hallway and responds by giving him directions to find the 4CW owners traveling office. Whoever he is, he certainly seems to have business on his mind.

OPENING MATCH
THE FRIENDLY SKIES VS. THE BEARHUGGERS

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

The lights dim and we are greeted with a moment of silence until the sound of a light space-like musical twinkle and the accompaniment of Andre 3000 from Outkast can be faintly heard.

“One

Two

One two three

YEAH”

Blue and red lights begin to strobe along the entrance aisle and out come Hubert Smalls and Lil’ Boeing, both emulating circling planes just after coming from behind the curtain. Tail Earnhardt is also here, his cat carrier carefully set off to the side during the pre-walk pageantry.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, making their way down the aisle, accompanied by Tail Earnhardt…”

“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

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”

The two stop and lock hands to face the ring area, raising their arms in a show of unity. With Boeing’s free hand, he proudly displays his ice: a Red Baron Snoopy that drapes around his neck. After a couple of moments of posing, they break off and Boeing makes his way down the aisle, slapping hands with the fans. Hubert follows closely behind after retrieving T.E., extending his free arm to also receive the adulation from the audience.

POWERS: ”At a combined weight of four-hundred ten pounds…this is THE FRIENDLY SSKKIIEESS!!!”

“One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Anno Domini

Anything goes, be whatchu wanna be

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

HOT!

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 mamma

Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers”

Boeing enters the ring as Hubert carefully places the cat carrier next to the timekeeper, thanking them for keeping an eye on him while he “restles.” Dat Plane Doe scales the turnbuckle with pride, peering up to the ceiling and throwing slow-motion roof punches to the tune of “B.O.B.”

“Stack of question with no answers

Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS

Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days

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!”

Hubert, now in the ring, scales the opposite turnbuckle and mimics Boeing’s dance — surprisingly with decent rhythm despite his white country roots. As the song hits the chorus, the two hop down and meet in the middle of the ring to embrace in a Friendly Skies hug, ready to perform for their fans.

“Don’t pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang

BOMBS OVER BAGHDAD

Yeah! Ha ha yeah!

Don’t even bang unless you plan to hit some thang

BOMBS OVER BAGHDAD

Yeah! Uhh-huh…”

JOHNSON: ”Well, these two really have their work cut out for them tonight, Vassa!”

VASSA: ”Well, if you were just talking about Nirvana, I would disagree because he’s older than Betty White’s first pair of socks. Adding Salsa Bear-De into the mix, though… completely different story!”

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The Gummi Bear’s Television Theme plays as Nirvana steps out onto the ramp. Mya follows out shortly after with the California Brown Bear, Salsa Bear-De following shortly behind. Salsa’s claws are filed with a muzzle upon her face. Nirvana smiles and hypes her up as all three of them begin making their way down the entrance ramp.

POWERS: ”Their opponents, being accompanied to the ring by Mya, The Midnight King Nirvana and The California Brown Bear Salsa Bear-De… THE BBEEAARRHHUUGGGGEERRSS!!!”

As they make their way ringside, the audience admires Salsa’s wonder while Nirvana rolls into the ring. Mya begins escorting Salsa around the ring to their corner. Salsa makes her four legged walk up on the steel ring steps upon the apron as the music fades.

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell rings and the match starts, Boeing begins circling Nirvana, while looking over locking eyes on Salsa every couple paces both dumbfounded n a bit worried. Nirvana looks back at Salsa laughing as Salsa gives a muffled growl before rushing toward Boeing with a clothesline. Boeing ducks it and as he’s about to attempt to spring off the other side of the ring ropes realizes he’s dangerously close to Salsa, so stops short in his tracks. After looking at the bear for a moment, Boeing spins around and is leveled with a second clothesline attempt from Nirvana, dropping Boeing to the ring mat. Nirvana lifts his leg into the air and stomps it across Boeing’s chests, causing Boeing to roll around on the canvas in pain.

JOHNSON: ”I think Boeing is already a bit distracted by Salsa Bear-De!”

VASSA: ”Of course he’s distracted you idiot, one of his opponent’s a fucking bear!”

Nirvana reaches down to lift Boeing to his feet, but as he does, Boeing fires an elbow directly into Nirvana’s stomach. He springs off the ropes opposite of Salsa and comes back toward Nirvana, jumping into the air and hitting a drop kick directly in the stomach. Nirvana stumbles back and stops himself from falling by leaning back against the ring ropes. As Nirvana pushes himself from the ropes and comes forward, Lil Boeing hits a right hand directly into Nirvana’s throat. As Nirvana holds his throat trying to catch some wind, Boeing hits the ropes again and comes back, hopping into the air and rolling over Nirvana sending him down with a sunset-flip pin attempt.

ONE

.

.

Nirvana does a quick power kick-out sending Boeing stumbling back and hitting into Salsa on the apron. The bear hardly budges but instead springs to her hind legs for only a second and swipes a filed down paw against the back of Boeing’s head while letting of a muffled ‘rawr’ Boeing stumbles forward while Nirvana comes to his feet, giving Nirvana the chance to scoop him up and drop him down to the canvas with a scoop slam, back-first. Looking over at Salsa, Nirvana smirks and then looks around the arena hyping the fans up, causing them to irrupt.

VASSA: ”Oh shit, I think we’re going to see it Johnson!”

JOHNSON: ”It sure looks like it!”

Smalls begins to yell for Boeing to get up as Nirvana toys around with the thought of tagging Salsa Bear-De in for a moment. Boeing digs his hands into the canvas and climbs to all fours as he starts to pull himself to his feet, Nirvana takes notice and reaches down as he towers over, Boeing grabbing him under the arm and pulling him to standing position. With Boeing turned away from Nirvana, Nirvana locks him in a headlock. He starts to pull Boeing toward the corner where Salsa’s snuffs can be heard through the muzzle as she awaits the tag. Boeing catches notice and plants his feet before pushing Nirvana off of him. Nirvana turns to face Boeing, but quickly gets kicked in the stomach and Buckles forward, allowing Boeing to club him over the back with a double axe-handle smash.

JOHNSON: ”Lil Boeing trying to avoid going one on one with Salsa Bear-De at all costs right about now!”

VASSA: ”He’s doing a good job of doing that right now!”

Lil Boeing buckles Nirvana down further, following the double axe-handle smash. Boeing then springs off of the ropes and rushes forward, driving a knee into the side of Nirvana’s cheek. Nirvana drops to a knee but still won’t go down. Boeing looks around in shock before finally backing up and jolting forward, delivering a shining wizard to Nirvana, knocking him to the mat. With Nirvana down, Boeing rolls to his corner and makes a tag to Hubert Smalls. Looking over and noticing a resilient Nirvana climbing to his feet, Smalls ascends the turnbuckle from the apron. As Nirvana stands, Hubert hops off with a flying body press, only to get caught in mid-air and dropped to the mat with a body slam. Nirvana stays on top of Smalls, looking for a pinfall as Salsa begins raging with hype outside on the apron, swiping his front paws around frantically.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Smalls kicks out, causing Nirvana to roll of him and sit up. Nirvana climbs to his feet and reaches down, lifting Hubert Smalls up to standing position, by way of hair. Nirvana kicks Hubert in the stomach and whips him into the corner with a heavy impact. Ricocheting out of the corner and back into Nirvana’s direction, Nirvana kicks Smalls in the stomach once more. As Smalls bended forward, holding his stomach, Nirvana locks him between his legs and lifts him back, dropping him head first to the mat with a stump pulling piledriver. Nirvana sits up and begins to crawl toward his corner, looking to make a tag to Bear-De for the first time in the match.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see a first in 4CW history!

VASSA: ”Wait, no… what in the hell is this idiot, Lil Boeing doing?”

On the other side of the ring, Lil Boeing had dropped from the apron to the floor and retrieved a pot of honey hidden under the ring. Noticing the honey pot being waved around on the other side of the ring, Salsa scurries down from the apron and comes charging around the ring. Boeing’s eyes grow wide as he notices Salsa closing in on him and takes off like a bat out of hell. Nirvana unaware reaches up to make the tag before noticing that the bear is not there to greet him. Hubert climbs to his feet at this point and reaches down, gripping Nirvana’s ankle and spinning him onto his back. Nirvana pump kicks and connect his boot into Hubert Smalls chin causing him to stumble back wildly into the ropes. As Smalls comes stumbling back forward Nirvana rolls him up in a cradle pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

The pin gets broken up as Boeing had noticed it happening, causing him to quickly drop the honey pot on the ringside floor and slid in with an elbow drop across the bridge of Nirvana’s back. As he rolls around in pain on his back, his partner begins to aggressively eat the honey from the pot at ringside. Hubert rolls onto his stomach and reaches out gripping at the ropes, pulling himself to his feet. Nirvana crawls around in pain as Salsa continues to go to town on the honey at ringside, letting off wild groans of satisfaction while Mya tries to put her back into the game but it’s no use when delicious honey stands in the way. Smalls comes to his feet and paces around behind Nirvana, who is pulling himself to his feet. As Nirvana turns, Smalls drills a karate chop into his throat.

VASSA: ”Oh no, this has turned to a two on one match up!! Nirvana has to fight for his life, while his partner gets to feast on a sweet, sticky pot of honey!”

JOHNSON: ”Well, I guess Friendly Skies tactic worked?!”

Nirvana grips at his neck in pain as Hubert makes a tag to Boeing. Boeing comes in as Hubert pulls Nirvana forward and executes a drop toe hold. While this is happening, Boeing grips the back of Nirvana’s mask and spikes him down face first upon the mat with a facebuster. As Nirvana rolls onto his stomach, Boeing crawls onto him and hooks the leg for a pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Outside the ring, Salsa Bear-De has finished her honey and is very upset, you can tell by her beastly grunts of depression. Still hungry, she looks to the man that taunted her with it in the first place. Standing on her hind legs she lets a heavy rawr still muffled by the muzzle. Boeing looks over and rushes forward sliding a baseball slide through the bottom rope and connecting it to Salsa’s face. As Salsa drops back to all fours she lets out a groan of agony, causing Mya to look on frustrated. Boeing climbs to his feet, admiring his handy work for a moment, but when he turns around he gets caught by Nirvana gripping a handful of his testicles.

JOHNSON: ”CASTRATION!!!”

VASSA: ”Yuck, that’s fucking gross! One grown man, grabbing another grown man’s testicles!”

Boeing holds around in pain, trying to grab at Nirvana’s wrist and pull his hand away to release the hold, but he can’t quite pull it off. Boeing does however hop around enough to get into position for Hubert Smalls to make the blind tag. Hubert grips the ropes and springs from the apron to the top rope and hops into the ring, connecting a springboard knee attack to Nirvana’s forehead. Nirvana releases the hold and falls back first to the canvas. As this happens an aggressive Bear-De four legged charges up the ring steps, causing Hubert to hesitate for a moment. After giving a shrug of his shoulders, he runs forward and kicks Salsa in the face through the ropes, causing her to slip from the apron making Mya run to check on her.

VASSA: ”I’m starting to feel bad for Salsa. She’s getting all types of fucked up and there is no more honey left to calm her!

JOHNSON: ”You’re damn right and she hasn’t been tagged in not once this whole match!”

Smalls rushes into the ropes looking to come back in Nirvana’s direction who is now on all fours but an angered and aggressive Salsa jumps to her hind legs once again and gives a heavy swipe through the bottom ropes, tripping Smalls up. As Smalls stumbles forward, Nirvana comes to his feet and lifts him into the air spinning him over his shoulder. The spin causing Smalls feet to connect into Boeing’s face, causing him to fall from the ring apron to the floor. With Smalls set up, Nirvana takes a couple steps charging forward and Lawn Darts him face first into the top turnbuckle. As Smalls hits the turnbuckle and falls back onto the canvas, Nirvana drops down and rolls him over for a pin.

ONE

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.

TWO

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THREE!!!

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

The Gummi Bears theme hits as Nirvana sits up looking around the arena to the audience roaring with excitement. Mya stands outside jumping jumps of joy as Salsa let’s off a rawr of victory.

POWERS: ”The winners of this match… THE BBEEAARRHHUUGGGGEERRSS!!!”

The scene opens up to Johnny Evil pacing around in circles in the parking garage like a madman with a two-by-four wrapped in a chain gripped tightly in his hand. As Evil continues to pace in anger, looking at the garage doors every couple seconds, as if he is expecting them to open Silas Crowe comes running out of the back loading docks to the arena.

CROWE: “Whoa, whoa… what in the hell is that for? I’ve been looking all over for you and you’re out here pacing around like you’re about to make a very rash decision right about now!”

Johnny tries to avoid it, walking away for a moment.

EVIL: “I’m just out here to catch some fresh air…”

CROWE: “Obviously not, man. People who are ‘just catching fresh air’ don’t carry makeshift weapons around clenched in their hands, holding it like they’re ready to go to war!”

EVIL: “Well, maybe I am?”

Evil grips the two-by-four even tighter…

EVIL: ”Maybe I’m waiting here for Tanner to pull his ass into this parking lot, so we can finish what we started, because like it or not he never made me quit and at the end of the day, that fucker might as well chalk that victory he thinks he got up as a loss. If he doesn’t I’ll beat the thought into him!”

CROWE: “Whoa… relax, I get it!”

Evil shakes his head, basically commenting of what Silas had just said by saying, no you don’t.

CROWE: “Johnny listen to me though. The two of you have a tag match together tonight. What is this going to accomplish?”

EVIL: “A hell ova’ lot!”

CROWE: “No, man. It won’t. Look you can hate this fucking company and want to burn it to the ground from the inside out all you want. Hell, you can hate the fans that you feel wronged you. You can piss all over those fuckers for all I care, but don’t hate or try to destroy the man you share one half of the 4CW Tag Team Championship belts with!”

Johnny still paces back and forth in the parking garage heavy footed, not trying to hear a word that Silas Crowe has to say…

CROWE: “Look people are going to say whatever the fuck they need to just to get into your head and throw you off your game… Wouldn’t you do the same??”

EVIL: “It’s okay to have that resentment. Keep using it to fuel your motivation for why you do this. For why you lace up those fucking boots! Use it tonight when you face Marquis and Jett… Like it or not, you and Tanner holding those belts in a sense has made you two fucking martyrs. You said when you fought for them belts before you won them that the two of you weren’t going to be another Ascended Supremacy. You said even if you had to do it yourself you wouldn’t allow them to collect fucking dust. Well, what in the hell do you call what you’re doing now??”

Johnny drops his head, biting his lip as he thinks about this for a moment. Silas goes to take a couple steps toward Evil, causing him to take a step back.

CROWE: “You’re constantly fighting amongst each other instead of glorifying those titles!!”

Johnny smirks and chuckles Silas’s comments and thoughts to the side.

CROWE: “You’re so hell bent on writing wrongs and acting as if you have something to prove when you’ve already done it. You won the tag titles, even when you two weren’t seeing eye to eye. You and Tanner beat the dog-piss out of each other just a couple of weeks ago and he still couldn’t make you tap out or quit. Like it or not, that shit has to eat at him just as bad you not having your hand raised in victory eats at you.”

Shrugging as if to say he doesn’t know, Johnny stops pacing around and thinks about it for a second…

CROWE: “Look, at the end of the day, you don’t have to like Tanner. The two of you don’t have to be as close as most teams are. People can think you’re nothing but a partner, but deep down they know that’s bullshit and they’re idiots for even making mention of it. When it all comes down to it though, you have to fucking respect that man, because love it or hate it… when someone’s trying to take that title from you, he’s going to have your fucking back to the fullest just like you should have his back if someone tries to take his from him.”

Johnny stares toward the parking garage door as he starts to loosen his grip on the two-by-four…

CROWE: “The two of you need to amp up this dying division. If any upcoming tag teams in 4CW want to be great, they have to go through the both of you to do it. You and Tanner are the fucking gate and no matter how much those titles may get neglected in mentions people will be gunning for them. Especially four months from now at Bad Company!”

Silas walks up and reaches to the side of Evil slowly. Evil stands and thinks for a moment as Silas grabs the two-by-four shaking his head as if to say ‘don’t do this, it isn’t right’.

CROWE: “Like it or not, Johnny… It’s you and Tanner versus the fucking world when it comes to those belts!!”

Silas takes the two-by-four from Evil’s hand and drops it to the side. Evil thinks for a moment and gives a reluctant shake of his head. At this point the camera cuts back to the announce table.

VASSA: ”I don’t know, I still think Evil should smash Tanner’s head in!

JOHNSON: ”Yea, and I think someone should smash Evil’s head in!!”

VASSA: ”I guess you’re still a bit ass-hurt that Evil slapped around in South Beach a little bit, huh?”

JOHNSON: ”You’re damn right I am. I used to respect Johnny. When he had his problems with JPD and his problems with Sativa I never doubted him once. Now I can’t stand him and I’m sure I’m not alone!”

VASSA: ”Yeah, and I’m sure he can’t stand you neither, Johnson!”

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
FREEDUMB VS. RICH E. RICH

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

”Billy Crystal’ by Yelawolf hits the speakers as the crowd erupts with laughter. Walking out from the back, Freedumb power struts out onto the stage with a glass pipe in one hand and a leash in the other. At the end of the leash, a sad, pathetic dog follows along, limping with each step taken.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, coming to the ring from Bay Point, California, weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! He is accompanied to the ring by–wait a second–accompanied to the ring by his neighbors dog! He is the ‘Master(de)bater’ and seventy-two hour tweeting sensation… FFRREEEEDDUUMMBB!!!”

Freedumb smirks as he passes the fans on his way down the ramp, literally dragging the dog behind him who is unwilling to follow. The fans throw trash at him, yelling for animal rights, some even holding signs.

YOU DESERVE
THE LEASH

#BAITED

Once reaching ringside, Freedumb pulls the dog in by the leash before picking it up and lifting it in the air. Puckering his lips, Freedumb leans in to give it a kiss but before he can, the dog bites him on the nose, forcing Freedumb to release him. Falling backwards to the ring and crashing against it, he reaches for the leash but misses as the dog races up the ramp and disappears into the back. Sadness then overcomes his facial expression before he rolls underneath the bottom rope and enters the ring alone.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

As emotions run wild on Freedumb’s face, the crowd anticipates the entrance of Rich E. Rich. Even Freedumb is anticipating it now, but no one comes out. He questioningly gestures to the announcer who taps the microphone after receiving a slip of paper from a ringside staff member that just emerged from the backstage area.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just received word that following his bout with Keegan Ryan, Rich E. Rich has been sidelined indefinitely with a returning injury. His doctors have not medically cleared him to compete!”

Freedumb almost looks relieved as the crowd boo’s. But it appears Powers is not done yet.

POWERS: ”However… taking his place is 4 Corners Wrestling’s newest signing!”

The heavy pounding electronical sounds of Tears by HEALTH sound over the PA system as an unknown man wastes little time to march down to the ring, his head covered by the hood of his jacket.

Freedumb quickly scurries out of the ring and watches on from the sides. The man pays him little mind.

POWERS: ”And hailing from London, England. Weighing in at two hundred and nice pounds… VVOOSSSSLLEERR!!!”

Vossler climbs into the ring and with a spin, takes off his jacket, sits down in the center as it falls to the ground and stares dead-pan into the camera with a smirk. His neatly calm composure is almost intimidating.

As the music fades out and the lights return to normal, we see a caucasian man sitting in the center of the ring, legs crossed. His body has been marked with several tattoo’s and his hair held in a man bun. Vossler looks over his shoulder to Freedumb, who is still outside of the ring.

VASSA: ”Johnson, I’m sure you’ve heard of this man before… I have no clue who he is. So please, enlighten us.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed I do. This man is called Philippe Chiari. He has been known to be a brawler, a risk-taker, an anarchist and a rebellious leader at times. But… he looks so different to how I remember him. It’s been well over a year since I have, but for 4 Corners Wrestling to pick up the former now-defunct Brutal Force Wrestling Carnage champion… that’s pretty crazy.”

VASSA: ”So he’s a former champion?”

JOHNSON: ”Some say that he was the catalyst to making the title mean something, until an injury sidelined him. And now as one competitor is sidelined by an injury, Vossler steps in. This’ll be interesting.”

VASSA: ”Your tone suggests he might’ve had something to do with it?”

JOHNSON: ”It wouldn’t surprise me.”

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
FREEDUMB VS. VOSSLER

Freedumb climbs the ring apron and steps into the ring slowly, as Vossler rises to his feet in one slick motion and turns to his opponent for his debut.

The referee checks with both men, and quickly pads down Vossler’s gear for any oddities. Presumably he’s already done this for Freedumb in the back. The ref checks with him momentarily and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Vossler’s expression hasn’t changed as he steps to the center with his hand out, ready to lock up with Freedumb who looks a little surprised by this move. Eventually Freedumb locks one hand with Vossler before quickly resorting to a slapping chop to Vossler’s chest! The sound echoes through the arena as Freedumb himself recoils from what may be the hardest hit he’s ever thrown. Vossler’s chest has a bright red handprint left by the chop but the man himself seems rather unfazed. Infact, he challenges Freedumb to repeat this. The vertically challenged man appears a little dumb-founded by Vossler’s request. He shrugs and repeat the move, his own hand and forearm turning red in the process. The echoing slap is heard again. Vossler brushes off the slap and tilts his head with a smirk. He points to the brace Freedumb wears and taps his chin. Freedumb looks to the referee with a confused look asking if this is legal. The referee looks to the brace, then to Vossler and signals to Freedumb as if saying ‘Go on then.’ to which Freedumb obliges with a strike to face. Vossler appears a little surprised by the strike and shakes his head to clear the cobwebs. But in almost no time, Vossler retaliates with a kick to Freedumb’s chest that drops him instantly! Freedumb coughs as he tries to get back on his feet.

VASSA: ”Oh c’mon, this is just abusing Freedumb! Have some sympathy for this impaired man!”

JOHNSON: ”To my knowledge, Freedumb asked for a match with Rich E. Rich. He got the new signee instead. I don’t remember him ever throwing kicks though. This is a nice surprise!”

As Freedumb spins back onto his feet fairly dazed, Vossler grabs his arm and turns him around to lift him onto his shoulders. He quickly throws him forward and catches him with the knee on the way down! Go 2 Sleep! But Vossler’s not done, he bounces off the ropes and charges to Freedumb with a kick to the chest! PK Kick! Freedumb is gasping for air, visually shaken as he tries to stumble back onto his feet. Vossler’s back is turned to his opponent though, looking over his shoulder to the rising opponent. He believed he had done enough damage already, but Freedumb appears defiant!… who thought we’d ever have to tell you this? Anyway, Vossler bounces off the ropes again and places his boot on the back of Freedumb’s head! He stomps it down, what a curb stomp!

JOHNSON: ”Didn’t we ban that move?”

VASSA: ”Why would we?”

JOHNSON: ”I… dunno. Fair enough. Vossler goes for the pin!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

Vossler quickly gets off Freedumb and looks down on him, shaking his head while the referee approaches Vossler to raise his hand.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… VVOOSSSSLLEERR!!!”

Vossler looks over to Powers, gesturing for the microphone as only a slight snippet of Vossler’s music is played before being cut off again so the man can speak.

VOSSLER: ”4CW! Consider yourselves put on notice! Ever since I heard about this promotion, I’ve been watching on from the sidelines! What the fuck even is Jett Wilder at this point? Swearing revenge over some stuffed animal? I’ve stuffed women better than that bear was stuffed!”

VASSA: ”Is he disrespecting Mr. Fl–“

JOHNSON: ”Be quiet.”

VOSSLER: ”Promos being cut on people that’re not even active wrestlers at this point, benched and ready to be forgotten about… What the hell is the point in bringing them up anyway!? They’re on the backburner! Let them post about babies on Twitter all day, see who cares!”

Vossler shakes his head, then looks down to the prone Freedumb.

VOSSLER: ”You plan to have Rich E. Rich, one of the most talented and gifted wrestlers I know, compete against this waste of space. Yet this waste of space could probably still give me a better match than most of those assholes in the back!”

The crowd boo’s this, in defense to the heroes of 4CW. (If they can be called ‘heroes’.)

VOSSLER: ”And it’s clear people can’t be fucked paying for their dental hygiene since we have monstrosities like Cashe walkin’ around! How is that someone to look up to!? His palmares are great, but what’s he had to put himself through to get there? Clearly his skill didn’t allow him to get through any of that safely.”

No response from the crowd on that one, as Freedumb is rolled out of the ring. Vossler assists with little kicks and stomps.

VOSSLER: ”If you would’ve told me that someone like Bronx Valescene is holding the championship right now… after a twink like Eli Carlson held it? Fuck, I would’ve lined your comedy act up with Amy Schumer’s comedy special. And even then without the mention of one we all know you’re just another pussy on stage. Fuck, I mean… I’ve seen the South Beach promo by Bronx. It’s great, but the on-going theme is this is just another job to him, while for some of us… this is life. The roar of the crowd, the raise of an arm. Not everyone in their life will have that opportunity. Not everyone in their life has had their arm raised in victory. And you of all people should know by now, Bronx, that feeling is magical. But it’s also a luxury. Not every opponent will give you an easy match like Carlson did.”

Vossler points to himself as the crowd responds in an almost “Ooooh no” fashion.

VASSA: ”Is this rookie calling out Bronx? Carlson!?”

JOHNSON: ”He’s known for doing this. He won’t get a response. Hell, it’ll get him bitch slapped backstage.”

VOSSLER: ”4 Corners… so far. You’ve seen nothing of this promotion yet. Your biggest signee, Vossler, is here to show you what action is about. No more fucking games. No more stuffed teddy bears. No more Freedumb… No more bullshit. Enjoy. The. Show.”

Vossler quickly drops the microphone and looks over to Freedumb who’s being assisted up the ramp by officials. Vossler shakes his head disapprovingly. We fade into the next segment.

The camera appears backstage inside of a locker room as it’s certainly been a very long time this green masked man has appeared on camera. Of course the green masked man known as Lord Raab has very good reasons as you can see the very first 4CW banner they used on the first show with one hundredth show on the logo with Oakland, California by 4CW’s Green Disease Monster Lord Raab on it.

Right at this time. he’s very happy about the upcoming show, nevertheless the match he has tonight against Cyrus Riddle and he asked for this time to get on camera tonight and he got it as he starts to talk.

LORD RAAB: ”I can’t believe Perry and 4CW company has made one hundred shows. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been on camera, but there’s no place in the world that I’ve spent the whole of my wrestling career in more than 4CW. My heart and dedication has always been right here and it’ll never change.”

Of course it got Raab extremely excited about the show as he feels the amount of cheers the fans have had and continues as he gets the camera man to show the banner he made.

LORD RAAB: ”This banner right here just shows how much this show means to me. As you can see here, this is the first ever 4CW logo I placed myself along with the one hundredth show by yours truly on there. Spent a lot of time making this over the last two days and you know why? Because I love this company more than other companies I’m apart of.

I want to say before speaking about my opponent to congratulate 4CW on reaching this landmark and it’s all thanks to Perry Wallace. Without him and you fans, there would be no 4CW and he happens to be the only wrestling owner ever I’ve not had a single problem with in my entire career cos Perry is a genius of a man and even if there was doubts of the company closing down, he stuck by it and doing what he’s best at doing, running these awesome shows.”

Now he gets onto the part about his tonight’s opponent as he takes a little breather before speaking again.

LORD RAAB: ”What a perfect opponent I’ve got tonight on facing against a man who’s got a lot of history with me, heck he’s the first and only wrestler ever to force me in hospital, Cyrus Riddle. Now we know he’s been very quiet since the loss he had against Dakota, but that shows how much I’m dedicated to this show and because Perry and you fans have never given up, tonight you’re gonna see me tear the whole house down on Cyrus, putting everything I have against him because I’m proud to be apart of this landmark night, being a passionate 4CW fan, more so the last match we had, he beat me for the three count which even caused me to have this scar on my throat.”

This got quite a lot of cheers from the crowd on him being a fan of the company as the cameraman zoomed in the scar he had on his throat before Raab places he head down to speak again.

LORD RAAB: ”I’m bringing my complete A game for this match because this event isn’t a normal Adrenaline show for me, this is a PPV and South Beach Brawl I treated it as a normal show because nothing is as big as this. It’s the truth and you’re gonna see the best Lord Raab the world’s ever seen and if you watched my match with Randall Kash, it’s gonna be ten times better because Cyrus doesn’t know what he’s got coming to him and I will win tonight because I’m so happy to be apart of this show and I’m a lot more confident than I was at South Beach Brawl event.”

Of course, this was the part where he places his head down, touching the right hand part of his face as he speaks again.

LORD RAAB: ”But sometimes in life, people have to put their health first and this came up right before the PPV, but I turned this particular thing down because I didn’t want to miss wrestling for 4CW’s one hundredth show. I tell you guys, after this show, I have to go away for a little while because on my right hand side of my face, I got a lump and was told I got skin cancer so after this show, I’m going to have surgery on my face to remove it.”

It made the whole arena go extremely quiet, it’s a complete shock Raab hide this for so long and he shakes his head in disgust, knowing it could kill him if he didn’t go under the knife as he speaks for the last time.

LORD RAAB: ”I’m sorry I had to upset you all, but this is something I’m forced to do and this partly another reason why I’m gonna give everything I have to Cyrus tonight and then leave the arena to go and have surgery as I will be back, can’t afford to leave this company for a slight second, but you’d even see a whole new me as well. Maybe you won’t see me in a mask anymore because of the surgery I have to do.

But I’m certainly not gonna have my last match until after surgery on this landmark night with a loss and only putting out a horrible effort cos you fans and Perry deserve much more than that and I will win. Tonight on this one hundredth show Cyrus Riddle, you’ll prepare yourself to be Raabinated by 4CW’s Green Disease Monster.”

Raab gives a smiling wave to the camera as he gets the cameraman to zoom in on Raab’s 4CW’s one hundredth show banner he made before the cameras go back to ringside.

JOHNSON: ”Coming up next we have-“

Darkness.

JOHNSON: ”Uh.”

VASSA: ”Apparently up next is darkness, Steve.”

The opening guitar riff to Black Veil Brides “Heart of Fire” kicks in as the stage lights up, showing a giant stage-size Superman ‘S-Shield’ imprinted on the stage floor, the outline glowing blue and white as it pulses with the intro. Inside the shield is empty space, until a blood red human heart materializes in the middle, also pulsing with the music. On the video screens the same image (Shield with heart) appears but behind the heart are spliced together images of fans gasping in shock and awe at a certain someone doing the incredible things only he can.

“Driving through this world unknown,

I’ve built my life on broken bones.

Not living for this anymore,

You want a fight… I’ll bring a war!”

At ‘war’ the ‘heart’ burns away in the video footage as pyro explodes from the stage and the heart in the stage is replaced by the letters ATJ.

“I feel alive inside

I won’t be terrorized,

I’ll take all the blame.”

As the smoke from the pyro clears away the Arizona Assassin, Adrian Tanner Junior stands in the middle of the stage, where the heart was, head and face covered by the hood of his ring jacket. He is wearing his usual ring attire in blue and white tonight, with a matching blue and white ring jacket to go along with it.

“This heart of fire, is burning proud

I am every dream you lost and never found

This heart of fire, is stronger now

Build your walls but you can’t keep me out”

He walks side to side on the stage, riling the fans up for support and love, holding up his half of the 4CW Tag Team Championships for each side of the crowd to cheer at. Then he stops again in the middle of the stage, 4CW Tag Team Championship on his shoulder as he points his right hand like a gun at the ring.

“I’ll burn them down.”

He ‘cocks’ and ‘fires’ the gun and another burst of pyro explodes from either side of him on the stage, then he runs down the ramp slapping hands with fans along the way before sliding into the ring itself. He hops up onto the nearest turnbuckle and makes the gun motion one more time, firing into the crowd before he jumps down and asks for a mic.

VASSA: ”Hey Steve-o, it’s the guy who saved you from almost dying at the hands of Johnny Evil!”

JOHNSON: ”Adrian Tanner Junior has arrived on 4CW’s one hundredth show, ladies and gentlemen! At it looks he’s come with a new fire in his step.”

VASSA: ”After the beating he put on that prick Evil last show I’m not surprised. It must have felt like a weight being lifted finally having the chance to pay him back for his betrayal.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed. The AA never did have a chance to settle things between each other, being immediately thrust into the tag title match. South Beach was probably something they both needed.”

TANNER: ”For those who might’ve forgotten, or those who wish they could’ve forgotten… My name, is Adrian Tanner Junior. And I am one-half of YOUR 4CW Tag Team Champions of the WOOOOOOOORLD!”

Every word is emphasized with the fire of someone on a mission. A mission that had taken a little bit of a stumble since All or Nothing, but you can’t really blame that on him, getting thrown into other title opportunities tends to do that.

TANNER: ”I’m here to make a few things clear to a few people. Jett Wilder, you are never, and will never be, on either my or Evil’s level. The single, sole reason you have this match tonight is Queef. And the single sole reason you MIGHT (but won’t) walk out with a victory tonight, is Queef. You are a creepy little manchild who was never taught how to deal with women which given who your Dad is that’s not all that surprising, and you have amounted to a fuckloud of nothing in this company.

So keep acting like you ‘shook’ me on twitter or whatever, I’m just gonna keep ignoring your dumb ass because you don’t matter to me. ‘Queef’ is the only real challenge in this match, and unfortunately for you both- that is where your downfall is going to come from.”

He shrugs as he paces around the ring.

TANNER: ”This is a Tag Team match, friends. The two of you have never actually won a tag team match either of you have been a part of. So what makes you think you’ve got OUR numbers past the usual overconfident I r teh bestest in the whole wide world to all my F.A.G.s out there luls!!!’ is beyond me. I have been a goddamn tag team champion in every company I have competed in, I was a member of the BEST Tag Team in the World as voted on by our peers in numerous federations. And while Evil and I may have our issues, the simple FACT of the matter remains- we know our way around a tag team match. We know how to get the job done when the job needs getting done.

We proved that at All or Nothing, and we will prove that once more on 4CW one hundredth show!”

The crowd cheers for the cheap pop.

TANNER: ”And speaking of my fuckass tag team partner…”

He turns towards the stage, repositioning his half the 4CW Tag Team Titles from one shoulder to the other as he talks.

TANNER: ”Fuckass- Sorry. Johnny.”

He pauses, a sly grin forming on his lips, then continues.

TANNER: ”Johnny, I know you’re back there. I saw you back there. I know you’re wanting ‘revenge’ for the totally legal asskicking I put on you at South Beach but man, we gotta let this shit go. At least for now.

So I’m proposing a truce, of sorts. You and me- we came into Bad Company with a mission. We wanted to bring honor and respect back to these belts. Yeah, the Davidsons held them for four hundred days but what did they actually DO with them? That was our entire thing, yeah? We wanted to see the belts on people who would treat them with the respect they deserved to have. People who would bring class back to this division and make it something worth a damn again! We were an untested tag team together, but we’d been tried and tested ourselves the world over and we KNEW we could do it. And yeah, that goal took a little longer than we expected but eventually, we did what we set out to do, in the same way we do everything too. We walked into All or Nothing and nobody- not one single person believed the Actual Tag Team with Actual Experience would walk out of that show the NEWWWWWW Tag Team Champions… And we did just that.”

He raises the belt high into the air, soaking in more cheers from the crowd.

TANNER: ”And then… we got a little sidetracked. Our goals got derailed by the Cup and by our own personal feelings towards each other.

At South Beach Brawl we beat the shit outta each other, and at the end of the night- it was like a weight had been pulled off my body. I mean I still hate your guts but I didn’t want to murder you and hang your lifeless corpse from a lamp post anymore because I got all my aggression out in that match. You gave as good as you got, hell sometimes more, Hell it took me strangling your ass into unconsciousness to put you down finally. That’s the kind of thing I love about you, even when I hate your ass. You don’t quit, no matter what. I got my ‘vengeance’ and even if I didn’t get to hear you say those two words, I still feel vindicated. We went in there and we stole the show with a match nobody knew existed, because that’s who we are and that’s what we do! So I’m out here tonight, to offer an olive branch. We can still hate each other, and I’m sure we will, but we both know what’s at stake here. We talked a big game, both of us, about what we could and wanted to do for this division. What we needed to do for this division… So let’s fuckin’ do it, man!”

The fire’s back in his voice.

TANNER: ”Everyone’s gonna fuckin’ tell us ‘we can’t.’ We’re ‘not good enough’ we’re not speshul enough’, and we’re gonna look every single one of these fucks in the eye and we tell them: fuck you! We’re not only good enough, we’re BETTER. Because WE, are the 4CW Tag Team Champions of the WORLD, and this, is OUR DIVISION!”

After a long wait where it almost seems like Tanner’s proposal won’t get a reply, “Shut Your Mouth” by Pain hits the speakers. The stage stays empty for a moment, until Silas Crowe steps out from behind the curtain. Silas looks back for a moment at the entry way. A moment later, Johnny Evil steps out onto the stage with his half of the 4CW Tag Team Championship titles over his shoulder with a reluctant look upon his face. Johnny looks around the arena to the booing masses that are giving him the finger and gives a wicked smirk of don’t give a fuck.

Silas begins a slow walk down the ramp while Johnny just stands there for a moment. He looks down at his feet for a moment before making his way down the ramp as well. Silas makes his way ringside and walks up the steps entering the ring. He looks at Tanner for a moment as Johnny stands ringside.

Looking back at Evil, Silas begins muttering to him and waves his hands as if to say ‘come on, man’. Johnny paces for a moment and then rolls into the ring. Taking a couple paces forward he bumps into Tanner til they’re almost butting heads.

The two begin a staredown as Tanner feels a bit offended. Silas jumps in the way to stop anything from escalating as the camera zooms in…

CROWE: ”Come the fuck on… Think about the bigger picture!!”

Silas roughly slaps his hand across the faceplate of Johnny’s 4CW Tag Team Championship upon his shoulder while pointing at Tanner’s with the other.

CROWE: ”Like it or not, the two of you ARE the platform!!”

Johnny looks around the arena and then back at Silas. He looks at his title and takes a step back. Evil looks down and ponders about things for a second before looking up and glaring at Tanner. Taking one final look at his title, he looks back and focuses his eyes on Tanner’s half of the Tag Team straps.

Tanner extends his hand outward and looks around as the audience almost feels as if he shouldn’t trust Evil or even give him the respect. Still offering his hand, Tanner stares back at Evil blankly.

Johnny takes a couple paces back and looks around the arena once more before slowly extending his hand out and shaking Tanner’s hand.

VASSA: ”I bet you don’t like that Johnson!”

JOHNSON: ”You’re damn right I don’t like it, Johnny Evil is a disrespectful prick that can rot in hell for all I care!!”

VASSA: ”HA!! Say that shit to his face… you won’t!!”

Silas paces around the ring happily, pointing at both Evil and Tanner to the mixed reaction filtering through the arena. After giving a nod, Evil releases his handshake and slowly back steps toward the ropes before dropping down and rolling out of the ring. Silas gives the same type of nod toward Tanner before following behind Johnny as the scene cuts elsewhere.

The camera cuts backstage, where Mariano Fernandez, dressed in his usual jeans and leather jacket, and his glorious soccer mom hair flapping in the air, is walking determinedly and without hesitation, doing the usual arm stretching and shoulder rotating routines for warm-up. No sooner has he made his way into the backstage area from the parking lot, he finds himself face to face with the Midnight King Nirvana, exiting his own locker room, staring daggers into him.

NIRVANA: ”Manny. THERE you are.”

Far from flinching, Mariano flips his hair at Nirvana, and looks at him dead in the eye.

FERNANDEZ: ”Papa Nurv. How you doing, mang.”

The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as the two men size each other up, as if they were ready to throw down right there and then.

NIRVANA: ”You ready to get your ass beaten?”

Mariano gives a chuckle, and rolls his eyes.

FERNANDEZ: ”HA! What, by the likes of you?”

NIRVANA: ”Watch your tone with me, boy. I’ve got DECADES of Atari experience, “mang”. I was playing when you weren’t even in your parents’ plans. Bet you never were anyway.”

FERNANDEZ: “WHOA! How rude, mang.”

NIRVANA: ”And remember the bet we made. Loser buys lunch for a week. You DO remember we made a bet, don’t you? I want roast beef!”

FERNANDEZ: ”Why are YOU asking ME to remember, chico? Memory loss?”

He smirks his Trollface at the Midnight King, but immediately does a hand wave.

FERNANDEZ: ”But nah, mang. I remember. And everybody knows I always honor my words. LET’S DO IT!”

They both disappear through Nirvana’s locker room door. A few rumbling sounds later, backstage reporter Gabriel Hartman is rushing down the hallways with a camera crew in the direction of a small commotion.

HARTMAN: ”Steve, Vinny, I got word that there’s an incident backstage between “DA #TROLL GUY” Mariano Fernandez and the Midnight King Nirvana!”

JOHNSON: ”What did Manny do this time?”

VASSA: ”Nobody knows with that goofball, but I HOPE Papa Nurvy gives him a MUCH-needed thrashing. Goddamned troll needs his butt kicked. Again.”

JOHNSON: ”Manny doesn’t strike me as the type to abuse the elderly though.”

VASSA: ”You will shut your goddamned mouth when talking about the Midnight King like that, Johnson!”

Upon arrival at the scene, Hartman comes across a crowd of stagehands gathered near a refreshment zone, where Mariano and Nirvana are crouched upon the wall, rigging a VERY old and small CAT television set plugged at the wall, and next to it a classic, wood-paneled Atari 2600 videogame console. Among chuckles, the stagehands murmur among themselves in anticipation as Mariano and Nirvana get up and grab a steel chair each, joysticks in hand. Mariano turns to the crowd.

FERNANDEZ: ”Okay, chicos, we need a volunteer here.” (One of the stagehands steps forward) “What’s your name, mang?”

STAGEHAND: ”My name’s John, sir.”

FERNANDEZ: ”Oh don’t get all formal with me, chico. Manny’s fine. Okay, at our go, turn it on, okay?”

STAGEHAND: ”Sure, no problem.”

The stagehand makes his way to the Atari, giving both men a thumbs up.

FERNANDEZ: ”Okay, mang. You ready?”

NIRVANA: ”Bet your ass I am.”

FERNANDEZ: ”Okay John, GO!”

John powers on the console, and the TV screen lights up, showing a black background with two white paddles and a scoreboard reading 0-0.

NIRVANA: ”Get ready to pay up! I got paddle skills! Galaxy Arcade, 1986!”

FERNANDEZ: ”Hope you got something saved in that retirement fund, mang!”

The single white pixel serving as a ball starts moving, as the two men wiggle their joysticks and the virtual paddles move up and down, a beeping sound marking each paddle’s contact with the ball.

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

JOHNSON: “As much as we’d LOVE to see this, uh, contest, right now…”

VASSA: “God damnit Johnson, we don’t have time for this shit!”

JOHNSON: “Hartman, get the hell outta there, we’ll come back later!”

At that point, however, the ball goes fast into Manny’s goal, and Manny fails to get his paddle to it on time.

FERNANDEZ: “God DAMNIT, MANG!”

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!*

A small round of cheering erupts from the crowd as Nirvana smirks through his mask at the younger man.

MANNY: 0

NIRVANA: 1

NIRVANA: “… Problem?”

FERNANDEZ: “That’s MY GODDAMNED line, mang!”

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
CYRUS RIDDLE VS. LORD RAAB

JOHNSON: ”Are you ready for another match, Vinny? I think these fans are!”

VASSA: ”Well, we may be all ready, but is Cyrus Riddle? I’m surprised he’s even around after his match at South Beach Brawl.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed, Cyrus Riddle suffered some brutal injuries in his match with Dakota Smith. I’d be very surprised to see him come out to the ring tonight.”

VASSA: ”Injuries aside, you have to wonder what his mindset must be like after a match like that.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed, stepping into the ring with somebody like Lord Raab is probably not wise. Raab is 4CW born and bled, he won’t be taking this match lightly.”

VASSA: ”Well, let’s get started then, shall we?”

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

“Welcome to the truth

God made me in his image

Who the fuck made you?

You want my voice from me?

You can have it, just know

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

From behind the curtain, Cyrus Riddle emerges. With a black bandana wrapped around his face and a Kylla custom hooded leather vest decorated in blood splatter with two switchblades going through his initials designed on the back, he stands firm and examines the crowd with all to be seen on his face being his gaze. Cyrus still looks battered, and beaten, from his match with Dakota. He grimaces, as he begins to walk towards the ring.

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

Cyrus approaches the ring slowly, each step looking like it was more painful than the last one. He takes a moment at the bottom of the steps, before slowly making his way up into the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus Riddle does not look good here tonight. He’s still hurt from his match!”

VASSA: ”Yeah, I don’t know how anyone could clear him for this tonight. He’s still wearing bandages for goodness sake!”

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

Cyrus opts for not doing his usual entrance bit, instead staying still in the ring. As he stands in the middle of the ring, he removes his vest slowly to reveal his heavily tattooed body and physique, not without that always evident bit of arrogance. He tosses the jacket over to the ring attendant and stands in the corner calmly, awaiting.

JOHNSON: ”The fans aren’t sure what to make of this, Cyrus looks like he’s ready for a fight here tonight!”

VASSA: ”We can clearly see that he isn’t, Raab is going to have a field day with this tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”If Cyrus Riddle has any sense in his mind, he would throw in the towel right now.”

VASSA: ”I don’t think that’s happening, Cyrus has too much pride for that.”

“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: ”Raab is pacing around, he looks like a shark who has smelled blood in the water!”

VASSA: ”Too late to turn back now!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Cyrus watches Raab from the other side of the ring, as the bell rings. Raab, knowing this might be his only shot, charges out from his corner! Cyrus can’t move out of the way in time, and eats a huge clothesline! Raab rushes back towards the other side of the ring, running full speed at his opponent once again. Cyrus can’t do much, and eats another clothesline for his troubles! The crowd can’t believe what they’re seeing, as Cyrus slumps down to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”Wow, Cyrus can barely defend himself here! Raab is just punishing him right off of the bat!”

VASSA: ”This is going to be quick if Cyrus can’t fight back!”

Raab takes a step back, as Laroy Jones steps in to check on Cyrus’ condition. He stays on the mat, but shoves Laroy out of his way. Cyrus gets to a knee, as Raab charges in with a knee of his own! It connects to the side of Cyrus’ head, dropping him yet again!

JOHNSON: ”A brutal knee! Cyrus looks out of it!”

VASSA: ”I think Raab is getting close to finishing this right now! Laroy, step in there and do something!”

Cyrus tries getting up one more time, but it seems the match from South Beach Brawl has still taken its toll on him. Raab stalks his prey, as Cyrus desperately grabs onto the nearby ropes for support. Slowly pulling himself up, he turns around to face Lord Raab. Raab drags a thumb across his throat, and clobbers Cyrus with a European Uppercut! Cyrus’ head snaps back violently, as he looks to be out on his feet!

JOHNSON: ”Brutal uppercut!”

VASSA: ”Is Cyrus out?”

Raab roars out to the crowd, as he lifts Cyrus up onto his shoulders. Cyrus somehow manages to fight back though, a few elbows to the side of Raab’s head connects. Raab drops Cyrus down, but Cyrus cannot do much more from here. He winces in pain again, as Raab connects with a Spear!

JOHNSON: ”Spear from Raab! If he had some fight left in him, that spear certainly took it all out of him!”

VASSA: ”This is it! Thanks for coming, Cyrus!”

With Cyrus down on the mat, the crowd seems ready for Lord Raab to finish this match! He looks around, as he grabs Cyrus to pull him back up. With his hand grasped around Cyrus’ throat, Raab lifts him into the air and violently sends him crashing to the canvas with the Chokeslam!

JOHNSON: ”Chokinator connects! Stick a fork in him, he’s done!”

VASSA: ”I can’t believe it folks, Raab has just utterly dominated Cyrus Riddle here tonight!”

Laroy Jones can only watch, as Raab slowly covers his opponent. He drops down, and makes the count!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“Monster” begins to play, as Mike Powers announces the winner of this match from his booth. The crowd is mixed, unsure what to make of this match here tonight.

POWERS: “Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for your winner here tonight… LORD RRAAAABB!!!”

Raab has his hand raised in the air, as he stares down Cyrus Riddle. Cyrus isn’t moving much, crumpled up in a heap in the middle of the ring. Raab looks around at the crowd, before quickly sliding under the bottom rope.

JOHNSON: ”An amazing performance from Lord Raab here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Well, he sensed that Riddle was still going to be hurt from his match with Dakota. That’s the ring experience he has, he attacked quick and he never let off!”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed! One has to think what will become of Cyrus now, loss after loss keeps piling up.”

VASSA: ”He should have stayed home! I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hurt now!”

The camera twists and turns down the corridors inside the Oracle arena, off in the distance rather violent shouting can be heard – the camera seemingly going into its direction. As it turns the corner to a more open area the cause of the screaming is found. Dakota Smith was seemingly losing his mind, screaming at staff members – placing his hands on them. All the while yelling about respect. The camera catches Dakota’s eyes and the butcher B lines over to it.

SMITH: ”It’s about goddamn time one of you cock sucking maggots showed up!”

Latching onto the camera Dakota drags it, as well as the man behind it, mumbling to himself as he does so. Dakota lets go of the camera, pushing it away from him a tad as he stands in front of an refreshment table. He grabs a sandwich wrapped in plastic and turns around to the camera, he holds the sandwich out as if offering it to the man behind the camera.

SMITH: ”You want something buddy? Ya’ look a little nervous.”

Dakota nudges the sandwich at the man, a not so convincing grin on his dry and cracked lips.

SMITH: ”Here, take it. “

You could feel the reluctantly the camera man was going to, But Dakota’s eyes stared at him, piercing through the lowly staffer. As the man’s hand slowly comes out from behind the camera Dakota’s face twists into that of rage. Dakota strikes out, smacking the sandwich presumably across the face of the cameraman.

SMITH: ”FUCK THAT!”

The camera was increasingly shaky as the man behind the camera tried to recover, he goes to flee but Dakota grabs ahold of the camera once again.

SMITH: ”Where is the living PISS! Do you think you’re going? Nawh, you are going to stand here and Let those maggots watching behind the lens hear what I have to say, You got that? Or am I going to have to do this myself? I mean really… I could do this just as easily with you laying lifeless with your brains seeping out of your skull. So do we have an understanding?”

Dakota lets go of the camera, which shakes up and down in a yes like manor. Dakota nods his head seemingly satisfied with the answer and takes a few steps back, leaning up against the concessions table. Dakota’s eyes were wild, jerking all around the room as he slowly rubbed his left arm up and down. His face began to scrunch up and his jaw starting to swing back and forth, grinding his teeth against one another. Then after a few moments The butcher’s bloodshot eyes glare into the camera and he lets out a blood curdling war cry. Dakota’s chest moved up and down with every heavy breath as he began to speak once more.

SMITH: ”I bleed and I bleed, I go to war every time I’m in the ring! Win, lose, or draw I go out there and destroy myself, and why do I do that? Not for these meat sacks out in the audience, not for the money, hell not even for the graps. I do it… Because with every ounce of blood that I spill, every bit of cartilage I destroy, every fucking scar that riddles my body…I get one step closer to my heart… The 4CW championship!”

Dakota catches his breath, seemingly calming down as he brings his hand up and begins to stroke his beard- a nauseatingly nasty looking grin plastered across his lips.

SMITH: ”You know when I lost my 4CW championship against Jair Hopkins, I truly was a broken man.. A man without a heart, I was so broken that I let that wannabe hero catch me flat footed and light my ass of fire… He was trying to kill me, I know that, Jair knows that, hell we all know it. But yet, I let it happen.. I gave up. Why? Because I knew that I could not be the true monster among men that I was suppose to be. I needed… Time.

I let the world believe I had perished because I needed to find myself once again. I had fallen off the crimson path and I had to find a way to get myself back. But when I returned, I was surprised… Because it almost would have seemed as if I had been forgotten. I felt like a soldier who had been MIA. Given a hall of fame spot, as if that was some sort of way to commemorate me. But then I proved to the world that I was very much alive, I proved to the world that I still had what it took to be the very best!”

His hands dropping to his side Dakota let out a sigh, staring down into the ground while gradually shaking his head. He then snaps his head the left and clears his throat before spitting a very large wad of phlegm at the ground.

SMITH: ”But then I once again was played a fool, by thinking that sleeping dogs could just be left to lie. A pain in my ass, a curse that I put on my fucking self! Cyrus Riddle… Pathetic, He failed at what he tried to accomplish, but he did succeed at stalling me just enough to let other people take my rightful opportunities!“

Dakota fidgets before throwing his arm up in the air and pointing into the camera.

SMITH: ”Perry Wallace, you fat piece of living shit…You called me your friend, your brother… and in a strange way I had thought of you as something more than my own little insurance policy. But then… You do this to me? The one hundredth episode of Adrenaline and I’m facing some leftover HOW fuck stain? I should be in that main event, no! FUCK THAT I shouldn’t – Want to know why Perry? Because you still owe me my fucking rematch! I NEVER FACED JAIR IN A MATCH TO REGAIN MY TITLE! I WAS STRIPPED OF MY RIGHT TO RECLAIM MY HEART!

…Why would you do this to us Perry? Why would you do this to yourself…You know what happens to people who try and fuck me in the ass Perry…I turn around and fuck them! But… There is still a way for you to get back in my good graces, there still is a way where you can re earn my trust. Give me my title sh-”

Mid sentence Dakota stops, his body tenses up as his eyes go wide as if he was ready to go on the attack. His eyes pan past the camera and the man who was approaching him, which was none other than Scott Stevens. Scott stops a few feet away from Dakota. Stevens apparently is having a pre-match snack as he is tossing an apple up and down as the Butcher’s eyes do not leave the Texan.

STEVENS: ”Leftover HOW fuck stain?”

Stevens asks to make sure he heard The Butcher of 4CW correctly as he takes a bite of the delicious red fruit. Dakota just gives him a dead eyed stare

SMITH: ”Did I f-f-fuckin’ stutter?“

Stevens nods as he gets closer to Dakota, who clenches his fists even tighter expecting a brawl.

STEVENS: ”Jace, Tara, Hollywood, Zion, Mike Best, and Max Kael.”

Stevens lists a bunch of former HOW stars to come to 4CW and their success as varied in one form or another. As Stevens says this Dakota can’t help but to get a tiny giggle, rolling his eyes and shrugging his shoulders as if to say “so what”.

STEVENS: ”HOW people that have come here to make a name for themselves and every single one of them isn’t here anymore, but I am.”

Steven was very blunt in his words, getting chest to chest with the Sadistic Dakota Smith, who licks his lips – the excitement within him starting to build.

STEVENS: ”You are just like everyone else who has overlooked me because I’m the guy who isn’t suppose to make it. I’m the guy who isn’t suppose to last, but it’s the same thing that always happens when I go to from one company to the next, I outlast everyone because I am the best of them all. Everyone of the HOW flakes and fallouts that came here with more pomp and circumstance than me I’ve beaten and embarrassed them.”

Stevens says before taking another bite from his apple.

STEVENS: ”You’re right that you haven’t gotten your deserved rematch for the 4CW world championship, but whining about it like your name is Darin Zion isn’t going to change Perry’s mind. You’re acting like a child because you think you’re the first one to ever be screwed by management? Mother fucker please.”

Scott lets out a growl, but Dakota growls back.

SMITH: ”Management? You think I feel disrespected because I was screwed over by management? Fuck management I got screwed over by a man, who not 6 months ago stood in that ring and called me his friend. You bring up HOW, well fuck HOW! This is 4CW Scotty boy, and if I want to bitch and moan about the things I deserve. Then that is just what I’m going to do. This is my fucking company until I say otherwise!“

STEVENS: ”You are the one who brought up HOW not me, and last I checked Perry was management, and he runs this place not you.”

Stevens says as he pokes his finger in his Butcher’s chest who quickly knocks it away.

STEVENS: ”You talk about the disrespect you have received, and it’s laughable because I have been disrespected by you tonight already and I’m going to correct that here tonight.”

Stevens says as he takes a final bite of his apple.

SMITH: ”I haven’t disrespected you Scott, because to disrespect someone you have to give even a remote fuck about them! But you…You’re nothing to me. Are you the 4CW championship Scott? Are you my heart? No? Then why don’t you shut your roid monkey cock sucker and fall in line.“

Stevens smirks.

STEVENS: ”Tonight, “Broken Dakota” will be shattered forever after you fail to regain your heart once again.”

Stevens says as he tosses the apple at Dakota.

Dakota, without missing a beat drives his head into that of Steven’s – a loud crack as the two heads connect. Stevens takes a few steps back before letting out a bear like roar and Charges at Dakota, spearing him through the concessions table. Dakota’s head snaps against the wall behind the stand as Scott pushes himself back to his feet. Dakota was trying to catch his breath but a small hint of laughter could be heard with every breath.

STEVENS: ”I’m not your stepping stone to the 4CW world championship, you’re mine, got it?!?!?!”

Stevens goes to continue his assault but is stopped security, who hold him back. Dakota who now has a large, shit-eating grin on his face chuckles a bit louder.

SMITH: ”Fuckin’ bring it pussy..“

The lights in the Oracle Arena slowly dim, sending the crowd into a murmur as they look around the interior.

VASSA: ”Uh-oh Steve, what’s going on?”

JOHNSON: ”No clue Vinny! This isn’t in the lineup.”

A pipe organ begins to play a haunting melody softly through the arena. A melancholy tone from the organ sets the mood as a deep male voice speaks.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was many years ago and I confess to you all now..”

A red light shines down upon the entryway.

JOHNSON: ”We have some unplanned events going down folks. Bear with us.”

VASSA: ”Something bad is about to happen. I can feel it! Whenever something bad happens it always starts off like this.”

“I have not walked the righteous path.”

“I have coveted another.”

“I have lusted and committed adultery.”

“I have watched a man die not of at my hands, but I did nothing to stop it.”

“I have spoken ill of my fellow man and woman.”

“I have denied my faith.”

“I have been impatient, angry, envious, proud, jealous, revengeful.”

With each sin spoken, the light dims to near darkness, then a light blue light slowly shines upon the rafters of the arena.

VASSA: ”Who is that speaking?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but they seem to have a lot to confess here tonight.”

“I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life. I am heartily sorry for having offended and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended You who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. And the purge the evil and nay-sayers from this world.”

VASSA: ”Purge?!”

The light blue color in the rafters shines white hot then goes to black.

JOHNSON: ”WOAH!!!”

“This is their Turn of the Century… A new beginning for all of them… and for myself.”

A single dark amber light shines on the entryway.

VASSA: ”Is this the second coming of Jesus?”

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for each of You, are with me.”

The aisle going towards the ring, slowly lights up in a dark amber.

JOHNSON: ”You can let go of my arm any time now, Vinny.”

“And to everyone, I simply say this –”

“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil me. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers and sisters. And you will know my name when I lay my vengeance upon you!”

VASSA: ”It’s Samuel L. Jackson and he’s come for us all!”

The arena goes pitch black.

VASSA: ”AAHHHH!!!”

“For I am the Rooster, I bring Honor and Respect back to 4CW and I will never die.”

‘Rooster’ by Alice in Chains plays as a single orange light shines down into the ring. Jan van der Roost stands in the middle, looking around at the crowd then slowly raises both hands into the air.

JOHNSON: ”Wait a second, that’s Jan Van Der Roost and he’s come to 4CW!”

VASSA: ”What’s he doing here?”

He turns his head from side to side then lower his hands and the arena goes into darkness. The lights in the arena come back up and the ring is empty.

JOHNSON: ”And he’s gone!”

VASSA: ”Where did he go? What just happened?!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know Vinny but it looks like Van Der Roost has come to 4CW and it sounds like he’s here to clean things up.”

VASSA: ”I always knew your nasty habits here at ringside would get us in trouble.”

Once more the scene switches backstage as the camera’s focus in on a door that is labeled with the name Perry Wallace. On either side of the door stand two rather burly looking security guards who hold out their hands to put a halt to the progress of the camera crew that was looking to gain entrance into the owner’s office. With a shake of his head, the one security guard makes it perfectly clear that they’re not getting anywhere anytime soon, before folding his muscular arms back across his chest.

In a stroke of sheer dumb luck (or excellent production), the door to Wallace’s office swings open as loud laughter can be heard. The camera’s happen to catch a shot of the man in a cowboy hat from earlier offering his hand to the curly haired owner of 4CW, which is quickly taken and shaken. Whatever it is that the man has come to 4CW for, it’s apparent that the result of his meeting went well.

A moment later the tall, well dressed man stepped out of Wallace’s office and closed the door behind him. As the door shut the expression on Wallace’s face was unreadable, disappearing before anyone could get a read on his true thoughts. For a moment the tall man pauses and takes his hat off, patting it with his free hand gently before looking to the camera crew.

? ? ?: ”It’s a historic night, folks. The whole landscape of Four Corners Wrestling is about to change.”

Without another word the man placed his hat back upon his head and walked away down the hall leaving the entire crew who had just filmed the brief interaction at a loss for words.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
AMBER RYAN VS. NIOBE MARTIN

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

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

Tired mechanical heart, beats till the song disappears”

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

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

Somebody make me feel alive then shatter me!

So cut me from the line, dizzy spinning endlessly

Somebody make me feel alive then shatter me!”

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

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

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

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

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

JOHNSON: ”Up next we have Amber Ryan taking on Niobe Martin right here on Adrenaline folks!”

VASSA: ”Amber has been on quite a roll since signing with 4CW. She’s now undefeated with three wins and looking to add to that streak with a fourth I’m sure.”

JOHNSON: ”She’s made quite the reputation for herself before coming to 4CW and if she can keep this momentum going she’ll do the same here in 4CW as well.”

VASSA: ”She’s as vicious as she is stunning. We’ve seen here beat poor little defenseless girls into a bloody pulp and we’ve seen her spit a handful of tacks into Perry Wallace’s face before anyone thought they’d ever see her signed to a 4CW contract.”

JOHNSON: ”4CW is a tough place for a lot of folks to survive in but with the attitude Amber has, she’ll fit right in and maybe even one day call 4CW her home.”

VASSA: ”I’d like that very much. Having her around has been nothing less of a delight and I look forward to calling many more of her matches in the future.”

JOHNSON: ”Of course you do. We all do!”

As the opening of “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play over the arena, a video flashes on the big screen of a camera shot panning up a grassy hill at night, slowly until it gets to the top. Panning from left to right, lighting flashing in the sky as the opening guitar riff begins to sound.

POWERS: ”Introducing to the ring from Anaheim, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall! She is the “Nightmare”, NIOBE MMAARRTTIINN!!!”

The video on the screen then switches to a video package of Niobe in the ring, flashing and moving in time with the drum beat.

“Nightmare!

Now your nightmare comes to life..”

Niobe comes running out from behind the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp briefly to extend her arms out to the sides as a blast of pyro goes off on either side of her.

“Dragged you down below…

Down to the devils show…

To be his guest forever…

Peace of mind is less than never..”

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she drops her arms and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face.

VASSA: ”Our long time 4CW vet has made it to the ring folks and she’s coming off a solid win two weeks ago at South Beach Brawl against Sydney Riddle.”

JOHNSON: ”Sydney’s luck hasn’t been the greatest but unlike her, Niobe aims to keep her momentum going with a win over Amber.”

VASSA: ”Not to underestimate Niobe, but that is a lot harder than it actually sounds.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re damn right it is! Amber isn’t a pushover and if Niobe wants to put her down for the three count she’s going to have to step up and work hard for it tonight.”

VASSA: ”I couldn’t have asked for a better match to call tonight. We have two beautiful, lovely ladies in the ring that can rip you apart in the blink of an eye. This is going to be a joy to watch.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Without further delay, the bell sounds and our match is officially underway. Shooting out from their corners, both women quickly approach each other until standing within a few feet of each other in the center of the ring. After a few short moments pass, Amber strikes first, lunging forward with a left only to hit Niobe’s arm as she throws it up, fending off the strike. Firing back with a punch of her own, Niobe plants it directly into Amber’s mouth, knocking her back a few steps.

Before Amber can get her feet settled, Niobe charges in with a running clothesline. Ducking at the last split second, Amber avoids the blow as Niobe continues in stride to the ropes not far away. Coming back on the rebound, Niobe goes for another quick clothesline, just as Amber turns to face her. Ducking again and missing another clothesline attempt, Amber then reaches up just as Niobe passes by and grabs a handful of hair. Stopping Niobe in her tracks, Amber then pulls her back before throwing her down to her back against the canvas.

Rolling to her stomach, Niobe pushes herself up to all fours as Amber turns and takes off towards the ropes. Just as Niobe rises to both knees, Amber rebounds off the ropes and closes in with speed, leveling Niobe with an enzuigiri! Back on her feet, Amber then turns back to Niobe and leaps into the air, coming down on her and driving both feet into her chest with a double foot stomp. Climbing on top of Niobe and squatting over her, Amber then unloads with alternating lefts and rights, pounding away at Niobe’s head wildly.

JOHNSON: ”Boy of boy, Amber sure does enjoy a good old fashioned brawl.”

VASSA: ”I think Niobe may even have a small bald spot after that handful of hair that Amber ripped from her scalp.”

After landing over half a dozen punches, Amber transitions her attack to mostly lefts, smashing her fist against Niobe’s defenseless face. With each devastating blow, Amber knocks Niobe’s head back, slamming it against the canvas. Realizing the fight in Niobe has nearly diminished, Amber stands back up and then pulls Niobe to her feet. Locking onto Niobe’s wrist, Amber then whips her to the nearby corner with all of her might. Crashing into the corner, Niobe then drops down to a seated position with her back against the corner. Seeing an opportunity, Amber then charges in full speed, nearly taking Niobe’s head off with a running knee to the face!

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ, Amber nearly decapitated her with the knee to the head!”

JOHNSON: ”Niobe had some momentum coming into this match tonight but it seems all that has come to a dead stop at the hands of Amber.”

Pulling Niobe to her feet, Amber then slams her against the corner before taking a swing for good measure and whipping Niobe’s head to the side with a stinging left hand. She then lifts Niobe up and sits her on top of the corner. Climbing up to the middle ropes, Amber grabs ahold of Niobe’s head and holds it in place and she hits her with another punch. She then steps up to the top ropes and wraps her arm around Niobe’s head. With Niobe held in place, Amber look over the crowd as they scream for more, eager to see what’s about to happen next.

JOHNSON: ”Niobe is in the wrong position being up there at the top of the corner like that.”

VASSA: ”Even without being that high up, it’s still a bad place to be in, especially when Amber’s the one with her arm locked around your head.”

With Niobe’s head secured in her arm, Amber grabs onto her body with her other hand before going for a DDT from the top. Just as Amber falls back, Niobe manages to squeeze her head from Amber’s clutches and giving her a push off, sending her falling backwards to the canvas empty handed. Crashing against the mat, Amber releases a howling sigh as she quickly favors her back from the fall. Niobe then stands straight up and lines up Amber in her sights before leaping away from the corner. Twisting and turning through the air, Niobe then comes down with a corkscrew elbow drop.

TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!

Rolling out of the way at the last moment, Amber dodges the elbow drop, leaving nothing but bare canvas to break Niobe’s fall. Her elbow slams against the mat and quickly, Niobe pulls it in, securing it against her body with her other hand. Rolling back and forth in tremendous pain, Niobe loses all sight of what’s going on around her. Rising to her feet, Amber limps around the ring for a moment before turning back to Niobe with a look of anger in her eyes.

Running towards Niobe, Amber leaps over her body and to the corner, planting both feet on the middle ropes. Pulling herself up to the top instantly, Amber then looks over her shoulder, lining herself up with Niobe. In the blink of an eye, Amber then leaps away from the corner, flipping backwards through the air and coming down onto Niobe’s chest with a moonsault double foot stomp.

VASSA: ”Just as Niobe gained a window of opportunity, Amber slammed it shut on her before she could capitalize with that high risk elbow from the top rope.”

JOHNSON: ”Amber is quick on her feet, just as quick not on her feet either I suppose given how fast she rolled out of the way.”

VASSA: ”High risk moves like that are best saved for when the opponent is worn down. Hell, Amber is still fresh in this matchup.”

Grabbing a handful of Niobe’s hair, Amber drags her to the center of the ring before pulling her up to her feet. Setting up Niobe with a double underhook and locking her hands together, Amber then plants Niobe’s head into the mat with a kickout DDT!

VASSA: ”Oh hell, this one is over with!”

JOHNSON: ”Amber with the Original Sin!”

VASSA: ”Lord have mercy!”

Rolling Niobe over to her back, Amber then makes a nonchalant cover as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

JOHNSON: ”One!”

.

.

TWO

JOHNSON: ”Two!”

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”Three!”

VASSA: ”There it is folks! Amber with another impressive win, adding to her undefeated streak in 4CW!”

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

“Shatter Me” hits the speakers as Amber rises to her feet with a smirk across her face. As the official steps in beside her, he raises her arm into the air as the fans erupt.

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

Pulling her arm away from the official, Amber looks down, giving Niobe one last look over before turning away and heading towards the ropes. Dipping through and dropping to the outside, Amber makes her way up the entrance ramp as the fans from both sides cheer along for her.

JOHNSON: ”Amber came here tonight to do one thing and one thing only, and that was win. She’s done that and now it’s on to the next challenge.”

VASSA: ”Four wins and zero losses so far in 4CW. I think it’s safe to say that she’s starting to make a name for herself – as if she didn’t already have one coming in from the jump.”

JOHNSON: ”She’s gained quite a bit of traction and with all of the opportunities going into Ante Up, I wouldn’t be surprised if she finds herself in the mix.”

CASHE: ”HELLO! NEED SOME HELP IN HERE! HELLLP!!”

With an echo to his voice as it carries out into the hallway, there was no question it had belonged to Jason Cashe. A few people outright pass his cry for help. Niobe Martin stops hearing his second round of help calls and she waves him off and walks away. Why was nobody going to assist him.

CASHE: “HEEEEEELLLLPP! S.. OHHHH.. S MOTHERFUCKERS!! HELP A BROTHA OUT!”

Finally after a third round of howling for help, a familiar face comes around the nearest corner connecting to another hallway. It was an old friend and 4CW resident “Jobber” Sullivan. The look on face was already ugly as shit but he had an eyebrow raised as he stared at the men’s bathroom door. That was where Cashe’s calls for help came from.

CASHE: “Fucking hell.. How does this happen in a public bathroom?”

Sullivan or “Sully” as Cashe once called him enters the bathroom. Fully prepared with his shirt pulled up over his nose. Everyone knew or could assume to stay away from a bathroom Cashe was using and might be shitting in. Still Sullivan entered to check on Cashe.

SULLIVAN: “Cashe? You in here?”

CASHE: “Who is that? Yes! Yes, its me! I need some help!”

Hesitating. Having deep hearted second thoughts but something inside of Sullivan pushes him forward.

SULLIVAN: “What’s wrong?”

CASHE: “I checked all the stalls and there isn’t any toilet paper to be found! I got them booty drips! Its bad man..”

Instantly his face cringes at both the thought and visuals of Cashe having the booty drips. Sullivan really wants to leave but he remembers how at one time it was Cashe who helped him become the highest paid Jobber in 4CW. So he wanted to help.

SULLIVAN: “I’ll go find you something..”

CASHE: “Don’t fucking leave me hanging man! I swear I will hit you so hard, it’ll correct your crooked eye!”

SULLIVAN: “Really don’t think you are in a position to talk shit. Let me get you some toilet paper..”

CASHE: “Ohhhh my stomach is flipping upside down.. Round two! Aghhh!”

The slushie spray hits the water, a faded sound but one that makes Sullivan feel like he should brush his teeth nonetheless. He hurries out of the bathroom, quickly taking a deep inhale as he steps into the open hallway.

CASHE: “The things you do for love.. Aghh!”

Again the toilet bowl is assaulted with a concoction that is better left undescribed and thankfully not even Cashe could see it. The smell was no doubt breathtaking and not in the good side of the word. How it felt was important, like melted hot butter being squirted out at a movie theater over popcorn. The process was draining, he’d almost rather deal with constipation.

CASHE: “Ughhh.. I’m going to be lighter on my feet tonight.. At LEAST five pounds.”

With everything else in the bathroom silent, the door opening and feet squeaking gave Cashe some new hope. He finally could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

CASHE: “Bout time! My asshole feels like I done shit out exploding firecrackers. And I STILL have a Main Event to compete in!”

“The fuck did you eat!?”

That was not the voice of Sullivan. It was that of Trace Lando. A newer member of the roster, someone Cashe had already interacted with on twitter.

CASHE: “Who is that?”

LANDO: “Is that you Cashe? Heh. This Lando, Trace Lando.”

CASHE: “I know you right?”

LANDO: “Yeah pretty sure. I SUPPOSEDLY didn’t take your girl out to Steak and Shake. That DIDN’T happen… It did, not sure why she’d say otherwise.. One of those Make You Say Mmmm situations, feel me?”

There was a moment where things fell quiet again. Cashe reaches back and does that courtesy flush. After the sound of that comes to a stop, words are traded again.

CASHE: “You still there?”

LANDO: “Yup. You sitting wet assed unable to wipe aren’t ya? Tsk tsk.. Shame man, a damn shame.”

CASHE: “Yeah it is, I’d love you to be there when I am done. I would shake your hand before I washed them.”

LANDO: “Oh is that so?”

Before the tension rises to a boiling point, the bathroom door bursts open. In comes Sullivan carrying a pyramid of toilet paper rolls. Stopping with a look of surprise on his face as he sees Truce Lando standing there outside of Cashe’s stall.

SULLIVAN: “Am I interrupting anything? I can come back?”

CASHE: “Nah fuck that noise! Let me get the TP for my bunghole! Toss one over.”

As Sullivan goes to do just that, Truce Lando intervenes and snatches the roll intended for the toss.

LANDO: “You know Cashe.. There was no need to get hostile with me right out the gate. You seem to not like me too much and that’s fine. We ain’t got to be homies but umm..”

Only thing Cashe can hear is the faucet turning on. Trying to align his eyes properly so he can see through the cracks of the stall, he could barely see Lando standing at the sink.

LANDO: “Here you go..”

Even as the roll flies up and over the height of the stall, there was a liquid trail following behind it. Cashe seen this but there was little he could do to stop it. His hands go up as the drenched roll of toilet paper comes down wet, splashing and draining as it hits Cashe. His hands grabbing hold of it as it tears apart from being wet and cheap. You can hear Sullivan gasp as Lando walks past him towards the door to leave.

LANDO: “Good luck tonight Cashe.”

CASHE: “Fuck your Mother! Grrrrr!! SULLY, GIVE ME A DRY ROLL!”

Scrambling to do as was asked of him, a new roll is provided.

UNDERCARD
TRACE LANDO VS. KASIMIR NOVIKOV

JOHNSON: ”An exciting contest coming up next, two individuals who could have a bright future here in 4CW.”

VASSA: ”That’s correct, obviously Kasimir Novikov being the more talented of the two. Dude has been undefeated so far in 4CW, tonight could very well stay the same.”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t count Trace out just yet, despite a loss at South Beach Brawl he seems to be a fan favorite.”

VASSA: ”Well of course they love him here, he’s-”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t you say it, Vinny! Don’t be like that!”

VASSA: ”What the heck? I was going to say he’s got charisma oozing out of his pores. What did you think I meant?”

JOHNSON: ”Thought you were going to say it’s because he’s black!”

VASSA: ”Wow. Steve, I expected a lot more from you. Way to be a racist.”

With the crowd excited for the next match, they soon don’t have to wait as “You Guessed It” begins to play. The Oakland crowd seems excited to see Trace Lando, as they wait for his arrival. It takes a few moments, but soon enough he appears from the back! The crowd cheers, as he poses at the top of the ramp. He looks around the crowd, but their cheers quickly turn to boos as Trace is attacked from behind!

Kasimir explodes out from the back, Alioth Starre following behind in his wheelchair. Kasimir begins to slam his fist onto the back of Trace’s head, as the crowd boos!

JOHNSON: ”Kasimir with the attack from behind! What a cheap move here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Cheap, or effective? The bell hasn’t even rung yet, he can do whatever he wants!”

JOHNSON: ”Well he’s got Trace in a bad way already, somebody get out here and stop this!”

VASSA: ”Stop what? This is all fair, Steve! Go and get him, Kasimir!”

Kasimir grabs Trace, picking him up and dragging him down towards the ring. Trace suddenly reverses the attempt though, the crowd cheering in delight! He tosses Kasimir into the ring, the brute landing hard on his ribs. Trace connects with a right hand, and then a leaping knee! This stuns Kasimir for a moment, as Trace tries to collect himself.

JOHNSON: ”Trace is fighting back!”

VASSA: ”Good, if he wants to survive he’ll find his way out of this.”

JOHNSON: ”Kasimir looks like he might have taken a big shot there.”

VASSA: ”Or maybe that’s just what he wants you to think!”

Alioth begins to make his way towards the ring, wheeling down towards it as he yells at Trace. Trace sees Alioth coming, and clobbers him with a Running Dropkick! The crowd cheers in admiration, as Alioth is knocked from his wheelchair!

JOHNSON: ”Oh no! Trace Lando clobbers Alioth Starre!”

VASSA: ”Come on ref, get this match under control! Alioth did nothing to deserve that! He’s in a wheelchair for goodness sake!”

JOHNSON: ”Trace didn’t seem to mind, all is fair right now I guess.”

VASSA: ”He might have just woken Kasimir up with that one!”

Referee Logan Whitby tries to get both men back into the ring, Trace turns his attention back towards Kasimir and eats a stiff right hand! Trace almost buckles down to the ground, but Kas grabs him. With a strong grip on his hair, Kasimir tosses him into the ring. He quickly slides in, as Logan Whitby calls for the bell!

DING!!! DING!!!

An axe kick connects to the back of Trace Lando, as he crawls on his hands and knees. Kasimir continues his assault, landing another kick that puts Trace down. The crowd boos, wanting to see Trace get back into this match. Logan Whitby tries to separate the two, but Kas is having none of it. He shoves Logan out of the way, getting down into a three point stance. Trace is slow to his feet, and is turned inside out with a Running Clothesline when he turns around!

JOHNSON: ”Trace Lando hasn’t really been able to recover from that attack on the outside.”

VASSA: ”No he hasn’t, Kasimir has him exactly where he wants him.”

JOHNSON: ”A brutal clothesline right there, it looks like Kasimir might just be finishing this match early!”

VASSA: ”I think you’re right, Steve.”

Trace tries getting back up, but Kasimir won’t stop his assault. He connects with an Uppercut, knocking Trace backwards into the nearby corner! With Trace stunned, Kasimir backs up for a moment. He runs full speed towards his opponent, connecting with a Stinger Splash! Trace eats all of it, as he slumps down to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”Brutal splash in the corner!”

VASSA: ”Trace looks out of it, I think I know what’s coming next!”

Kasimir pulls his opponent back up, Trace barely being able to stand. A well placed Hammerfist connects, dropping Trace yet again. Kasimir looks content, as he covers his downed opponent for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“Untitled 6” by N.C. begins to play as Kasimir stands up, looking down at Trace Lando.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, KASIMIR NNOOVVIIKKOOVV!!!”

Logan Whitby moves in to raise his hand, but Kasimir pulls it away. He stares down the referee, before quickly exiting the ring. Alioth has recovered, as he says something to Kasimir. The two look into the ring, as Trace is trying to recuperate.

JOHNSON: ”Wow, quick work of Trace Lando tonight. Kasimir Novikov is a machine!”

VASSA: ”He certainly is! A smart move to take out Trace before the match started, it was all downhill for him there.”

JOHNSON: ”I think the 4CW locker room is going to have to be looking over their shoulder from now on.”

VASSA: ”Definitely, Steve. This guy is here to do some damage.”

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

The camera cuts once again to backstage, where Gabriel Hartman and the camera crew are looking at the still ongoing game between DA #TROLL GUY and the Midnight King. What was a small crowd of stagehands and attendants has now turned into a MASSIVE concentration of people huddled over the two gladiators as the Pong scoreboard in the tiny screen from the ancient T.V. set reads “5-5”. As if that wasn’t strange enough, a bookie in a makeshift desk is taking bets from the crowd.

STAGEHAND #1: “Fifty bucks on Manny!”

STAGEHAND #2: “Benjamin Franklin rooting for Papa Nurvy!”

STAGEHAND #1: “Dude, how much do we even make an hour?”

STAGEHAND #2: “I don’t care, Nirvana was playing Atari while Manny was still swimming in his daddy’s nutsack!”

FERNANDEZ: “I HEARD THAT, CHICO!”

NIRVANA: “He’s not WRONG, you know.”

In the announce table, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa are looking at each other, then back at the camera, completely dumbfounded.

VASSA: “Can’t believe this shit is STILL going on!”

JOHNSON: “What I can’t believe is that people are betting money on this thing.”

VASSA: “General Grant says the Midnight King wins this one.”

JOHNSON: “For God’s sake, Vinny!”

At that point, it’s now Mariano’s pixelated ball that moves into Nirvana’s goal, too fast for the Nirvana’s paddle to reach. It’s now DA #TROLL GUY whom the audience pops for.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!*

MANNY: 6

NIRVANA: 5

NIRVANA: “MOTHERFUCK!”

FERNANDEZ: “HA! Survey says, ONE MORE… for DA #TROLL GUY.”

NIRVANA: “I’ll make you shut that goddamned hole of yours.”

FERNANDEZ: “… PROBLEM, old man?”

JOHNSON: “Well, this “competition” has certainly become heated now…”

VASSA: “More like this goddamned travesty has gone on long enough! HARTMAN, get your ass outta there, this shit has taken enough of our time!”

HARTMAN: “But I can’t wait to see who’ll win!”

JOHNSON: “He DOES have a point here, Vinny, that humongous crowd isn’t gathered there for nothing.”

VASSA: “… For fuck’s sake.”

The arena lights go out and “BraCKiSH” by Kittie kicks up. The song is interrupted by a record scratching sound and the intro to “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea starts up. This too is interrupted by the record scratch sound effect.

The Crowd murmurs in anticipation, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly the arena is bathed in green light and two blue spotlights find the entrance stage. “Bulletproof” by La Roux starts up as Sativa Nevaeh limps out from backstage. She is obviously still recovering from her match two weeks ago at South Beach Brawl. A large bandage covers the back of her head, Doctor Who converse sneakers adorn her feet. The outfit is completed by a Doctor Who Heroes of Time t-shirt and daisy duke shorts.

In a surprise turn the crowd slowly starts to clap and cheer her. She stands at the top of the entrance ramp a bit taken aback.

”Been there, done that, messed around

I’m having fun; don’t put me down

I’ll never let you sweep me off my feet”

She slowly makes her way down the ramp towards the ring. It’s slow going with her slight limp but she makes it to the ring and a member of the ring crew helps her up the steps and into the ring. He hands her a mic and then leaves Sativa along in the ring.

”This time, baby, I’ll be

Bulletproof

This time, baby, I’ll be

Bulletproof”

The music finally fades out but the crowd is now on their feet, cheering. A genuine smile cross Sativa’s face as she raises the mic to her lips. She pauses, letting it fall away again, still overwhelmed by the crowd’s response.

NEVAEH: ”I was beaten, but not broken.”

The crowd once again erupts into cheers. A chat of ‘THANK YOU GAN-JA clap clap clap-clap-clap” starts up and is all that can be heard in the arena. After a few moments the chant dies down enough for Sativa to speak again.

NEVAEH: ”Nearly dying two weeks ago really gave me pause and time to think. I first started going after the then Extreme title for a reason. I wanted to make an impact. I wanted to come back to 4CW and revive the Extreme title. It was a floundering joke as the XTV title.”

A pop from the crowd.

NEVAEH: ”I did just what I said I was gonna do. I brought the Extreme title back from the dead. I made the Gods take notice of us again. I did this to make my mark in 4CW history, and 4CW is all the better because of it.”

Sativa pauses and paces around the ring slightly, gathering her thoughts.

NEVAEH: ”As I laid there in Cedars Medical Center, I had time to think. I thought, where do I go from here? Do I try and face Viduus again and take back the Extreme title? Do I set my eyes on another prize? Do I just focus on being a better wrestler? Well, after a lot of reflection and soul searching I have made up my mind.”

The crowd is silent. You could probably hear a pin drop as they waited to hear what Sativa was going to say.

NEVAEH: ”Viduus, I say this to you. Congratulations, you deserve that title. You took every ounce of hate and rage I could throw at you and you beat me. I tried to kill you and failed. That title is yours now. Do it proud and strengthen it’s legacy. You have no fear of me coming for it again”

The crowd actually boos slightly at this. Sativa was obviously walking away from the Extreme title for the time being.

NEVAEH: ”Don’t get me wrong, it was a fun run. I enjoyed every minute of it, and I would do it all again in a heart beat. But spending almost twenty four hours unconscious and then two more days in a hospital opened my eyes. I can’t keep that up forever. How soon before a match like that actually kills me? How could I do that to my family?”

Another small pop for Sativa.

NEVAEH: ”Now, I have been cleared for the next Adrenaline. Docs say my injuries will be healed enough for me to start competing again. I do happen to know that we are headed towards Ante Up and the showcase Four Way Iron Man Match for the 4CW title.”

A murmur once again spreads through the crowd. Some of them anticipating what is coming.

NEVAEH: ”So this is my announcement to Perry Wallace. I want in that match. I will do whatever it takes to get into that match. I will face whoever you say I have to between now and then. I want my shot at the 4CW title!”

The crowd is thunderous in their response. Sativa smiles as the crowd goes wild.

NEVAEH: ”Bronxy, you and I have been friends for awhile. But I want that title you got and I am coming for it anyway that I can. Hopefully I get to see you across the ring from me at Ante Up.”

The crowd continues their ovation. A lot of them already imagining the match with both Bronx and Sativa in it.

NEVAEH: ”The Blood Countess has gone away. The Ganja Goddess has come back, and I am gonna be better than ever!”

Sativa drops the mic and the crowd cheers as “Bulletproof” by La Roux kicks up once again. She once again has help out of the ring and down the steps from a crew member. She slowly makes her to the back waving and giving a few high fives to the fans.

Two guys in black collared polo shirts are standing next to a water cooler leaned against the wall. As they discuss amongst themselves the most recent happenings in 4CW the younger guy stops talking and looks beyond his colleague. His neck cranes forward in bewilderment in a cartoonish fashion. As his colleague tries to get his attention he waves his hand in front of his face and even goes as far as to snap his fingers on either side of his head near his ears.

BACKSTAGE GUY: ”Dude, what the hell…”

Finally breaking his dead pan stare he taps his friends arm getting his attention just in time to see a guy walk past the two of them.

? ? ?: ”That’s my TV. Those are my TVs….”

The voice trails off as the man walks past before the camera can get a glimpse of him. Both of the men, clearly new to getting face time on Adrenaline, look back at each other.

BACKSTAGE GUY: ”Someone needs to…We should probably… he’s… holy shit”

The two guys quickly move from their water cooler chat spot and make their way down the hall slapping each other like giddy fraternity brothers as the camera pans away from them and towards two televisions that have a direct feed to ringside.

JOHNSON: “Who did they see?”

VASSA: “We didn’t see it. Only those two idiots did. My guess was the guy who runs this place since he mentioned how he owns the televisions. Who else would even care about that?”

The scene opens up backstage in what appears to be the office of the one and only Perry Wallace. Though Perry is nowhere to be found, too much surprise Kaysie Sherell is seated atop his desk. The buxom brunette who hadn’t been seen in what felt like an eternity. The self-professed queen of 4CW has a stack of papers on her lap in which she is thumbing through intently. Suddenly, she stops and looks up at the camera. With a smirk on her face, she begins to speak.

SHERELL: “Well, aren’t you all surprised to see me? I know, I’m sure that you’re all eager to know the reason behind my absence. Well, some questions are better left unanswered. However, that is not one of those questions. You see, I’ve been working diligently on many upcoming projects that will cement Four Corners Wrestling’s legacy into the history books. Don’t take my absence as a sign that things have gone wrong between Perry and I, because that isn’t the case. If anything, Perry and I’s relationship is stronger than it has ever been.”

The Queen of 4CW crosses her right leg over her left. Never letting her gaze leave the camera, she continues to speak once again.

SHERELL: “Now, rest assured that the Queen will in fact stay the queen. The queen is not going anywhere, anytime soon. Under the strong, capable, and steady hands that Perry and I possess, rest assured that big things are coming. Now, I have work to attend to, so if you don’t mind…”

With her words, Kaysie begins to thumb through the papers on her laps once more, and the scene then fades.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
KEEGAN RYAN VS. ALEXIS MORRISON

The action pans back to ringside as the next match gets ready to start.

JOHNSON: ”We’re all set for another Fate Division match up and this one could very well be a big opportunity for one man.”

VASSA: ”Aren’t they all? The Fate Division has been bulked up tremendously.”

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

“STARTARIOT

STARTARIOT”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Psycho or psychotic, let’s start a riot

Fuck peace be violent, let’s start a riot

Psycho or psychotic, get nuts and start a riot”

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

JOHNSON: ”Keegan Ryan has an amazing opportunity here tonight. This may not be for the Fate Championship, but a win tonight could put him at the front of the line for a shot very soon.”

VASSA: ”Ryan is gritty, I’ll give him that…but he’s fighting someone who just won the Fate Championship, let alone who she beat. That’s no easy task.”

“Stronger” by Through Fire plays over the sound system while crane cameras get glimpses of the upper-level seats as the crowd pops. Moments into this transitions to ‘The Anti-Starlet’ Alexis Morrison’s entrance video. After a few seconds, Alexis appears in the audience holding the Fate Championship. Walking down the first set of arena stairs as fans are there to greet her while security make room for her walking path.

POWERS: ”From Salem, New York, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she is the Fate Champion… This is the ‘Anti-Starlet’, ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”

Reaching the bottom level. Alexis Morrison stops to take the energy from the crowd. She surveys everything in front of her then with a swift motion hops over the barricade. Alexis circles ringside halfway before pulling herself onto the apron entering the ring and hands the championship to the referee and heads to her respected corner taking off her leather jacket and grabbing both sides of the corner ropes leaning forward looking at the opponent.

JOHNSON: ”And there’s the Fate Champion, Alexis Morrison! Morrison had an impressive victory against Tara Davidson at South Beach Brawl and the win a lot of people didn’t see coming.”

VASSA: ”A lot of people also didn’t see Tara’s pregnancy coming…although with that body, I’m surprised it didn’t happen a lot sooner!”

JOHNSON: ”Seriously though Vinny, beating Tara…hell beating a Davidson is no easy task. Alexis Morrison is the real deal and I think she’ll be a threat in 4CW. Keegan may be gritty, but he’s got a lot of momentum to take down. Still, though, it’s going to be an interesting matchup and Keegan may have fate on his side tonight. It’s Adrenaline and it’s the one hundredth show…anything can happen!”

VASSA: ”Now if we want the pattern to continue, Keegan needs to beat Morrison tonight and then Morrison needs to get knocked up too. It’s the new fad these days.”

Ryan and Morrison start to circle each other as the ref calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

The match starts as Ryan and Morrison stand toe to toe. Ryan gets right up in Morrison’s face as he taunts her. Morrison isn’t impressed, though, as she gestures around her waist indicating she’s the champ. As she’s doing that, though, Ryan takes advantage by blasting Morrison across the chin with a closed fist right to the jaw. Ryan starts to deliver a couple more strong rights which keeps Morrison off guard as he grabs her and whips her towards the rope. Ryan then drops Morrison with a dropkick as he quickly drops down for a cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Whoa! What a start by Keegan and he’s not playing around tonight!”

VASSA: ”Well of course he’s not! He has a chance to not only make a statement, but he could pull off the win and earn himself a Fate Championship. It’s not rocket science you know.”

Ryan drops a couple elbows onto Morrison as he looks to continue to stay on top of the offense. Ryan locks in a headlock onto the mat but Morrison is starting to gain her composure as she begins to fight out of it. She’s able to battle to her feet as she starts to deliver a couple elbows straight to the midsection of Ryan. Ryan finally releases his hold as Morrison breaks free. Morrison turns around and starts to fire a few rights of her own. As Ryan appears to be off guard this time, Morrison uses her own advantage and grabs Ryan and plants him with a snap DDT straight into the canvas. Morrison drops down and covers Ryan.

ONE

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.

TWO

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KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Morrison finally rebounds, but is only able to get a quick two count on Ryan. Alexis isn’t going to be caught off guard like that again it appears!”

VASSA: ”Well if you think about it, it was bound to happen. Alexis is a champion for a reason and she’s quick to bounce to the offense. If this continues, Alexis may be too much for Ryan to handle.”

Morrison doesn’t bother to fight Ryan on the ground as she grabs him and brings him back to his feet. Morrison throws another stiff hard right straight to the jaw of Ryan before she whips him into the ropes and delivers a strong dropkick of her own that takes Ryan back down to the mat. This time, Morrison plans her ground attack as she mounts Ryan and starts to dish out punch after punch. The intensity picks up before Ryan tries to block out Morrison’s attack. However, Morrison doesn’t let up as she drives a stiff elbow straight to the head of Ryan as she continues to show her monster offensive assault on Ryan.

JOHNSON: ”Morrison is fierce tonight! She had a few words for Keegan this week and she’s backing it up in full force!”

VASSA: ”Morrison is vicious and Keegan is out of his league here tonight! You don’t beat a Davidson and then just slip. It doesn’t fucking happen like that!”

Ryan finally starts to show defense as he is able to at last stop the punishing blows to his face. Ryan actually rolls Morrison over in quick fashion as he starts to hammer away at her with his own set of mounted punches. There is a fight in Ryan as he takes to heart the assault he just took. Ryan one ups Morrison, however, and instead of his fists, he starts to strike Morrison with headbutt after headbutt.

JOHNSON: ”Holy shit, Keegan reversed that assault and just took it to a whole new level! That goes to show you that Keegan wasn’t phased by what Alexis had to say, nor her offensive strength tonight!”

VASSA: ”I’m not gonna lie….I didn’t expect this out of Keegan tonight. This is a gritty matchup and these two are going blow for blow.”

JOHNSON: ”Well just look at their arsenals and the types of fighters they are, Vinny. They are very similar in the ring with their strategies and I’m honestly not surprised to see this is what this match has come to. I always knew this match could be a brawl and that’s exactly what we’re getting here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Come on Alexis! I have a nice little bet on you so you better get that fine ass in gear and take charge of this match!”

Ryan shakes his head as he shakes off the headbutts on Alexis. He brings her to her feet as she’s still dazed and grabs her and drives her into the mat with a double arm DDT. He doesn’t stop there, though, and in a stunning effort, picks her back up again and drives another double arm DDT straight into the canvas. Ryan finally goes for a cover on Morrison.

ONE

.

.

TWO

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KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Holy shit! I didn’t expect that at all out of Keegan and I think Alexis was stunned too! Close two count but Alexis gets the shoulder up!”

VASSA: ”Not surprised there hasn’t been many pinfall attempts in this match, but for two fighters, things definitely have to come to a head sooner than later!”

Ryan shakes his head as he thought that could have been it and starts to taunt Morrison. He brings her to her feet once more but Morrison quickly responds with a pele kick to the side of Ryan’s head. Ryan is buzzed as Morrison gets back in control and quickly plants Ryan with another snap DDT. Morrison follows that up with a knee strike straight to the spine of Ryan as she rolls him over and goes for the cover.

ONE

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TWO

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KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Alexis with a close two count on that one as both these stars continue their vicious methods on the other! This feels like a personal matchup with what both Alexis and Keegan are displaying here tonight Vinny.”

VASSA: ”It’s got a PPV feel to it for sure, Stevie. Alexis has finally figured out an offensive flow in this match, it seems.”

Morrison grabs Ryan and whips him into the corner turnbuckle. She quickly charges at Ryan and successfully hits a spinning heel kick on Ryan. Morrison gets some space from Ryan before she runs at him again and connects with a head scissors that takes Ryan down to the mat. Morrison heads up top before she dives off and connects with a beautiful moonsault as she hooks the leg of Ryan.

ONE

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.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Oh I thought that could be it right there! Alexis showing her high flying abilities and I think Ryan kicked out on instinct alone there.”

VASSA: ”Ryan is showing his will in this match, but Alexis isn’t that letting her stop her from taking the risk to put Ryan away here.”

Morrison bounces off the ropes and comes back at Ryan, but Ryan fires up quickly and takes her down with a crossbody in the middle of the ring. Ryan fires some hard lefts and rights before getting back to his feet. Morrison is quick to her feet as well, as the two start to hammer away at each other with swift lefts and rights. Neither one budges before Morrison dropkicks Ryan in the knee. Morrison runs off the ropes again but Ryan catches her with a big boot to the face. Morrison staggers towards the turnbuckle as Ryan is able to deliver a missile dropkick to the face that sends Morrison down to the mat. Ryan takes a few steps back before charging at Morrison and planting her with a punt to the skull. Ryan stands near the turnbuckle as Morrison struggles to get to a knee.

JOHNSON: ”Uh oh! Keegan looking to end it right here! Alexis could be in trouble!”

VASSA: ”Don’t you dare, Keegan! Come on Alexis, I have a lot riding on you in this match! Don’t let it end like this!”

Ryan charges towards Morrison and looks to hit the Lights Out but Morrison somehow manages to duck just in the nick of time as Ryan goes right past her. Morrison, out of quick instinct, grabs Ryan and is able to deliver the Forever Night on Ryan as she just falls over out of breath on Ryan as a cover is made.

ONE

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.

TWO

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THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner…the Fate Champion, ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”What an unbelievable match that was! Alexis Morrison is able to get the win after a very well fought match by Keegan!”

VASSA: ”Thank God! Props to Keegan on a very well close hard fought match but my girl Alexis is victorious!”

JOHNSON: ”Great quality match by both competitors here tonight and no doubt, with Keegan’s display of power, I’m sure he won’t be far off from competing for a future championship shot down the line!”

Morrison is handed her Fate Championship as she celebrates in the ring as Adrenaline pans backstage.

We cut to the backstage area, where we see Bryan Williams standing by with Gabriel Hartman. Bryan looks dressed for his match, already, his Pride championship strapped around his waist. Gabriel looks a bit calmer, this time around. Without any threat of police dogs, he looks ready to do an interview. I’m sure he hasn’t done any drugs recently, either.

HARTMAN ”Bryan, you did it. You walked into South Beach Brawl and took back your title! I’m sure you must be thrilled.”

Bryan nods his head, smiling.

HARTMAN: ”Joyful. Feelings of adulation coursing through your veins. Tell me this, Bry-man, how does it feel knowing that Matthias is just lurking around that corner?”

Bryan chuckles at the question.

WILLIAMS: ”Here’s the thing, Gabe. People on Twitter may have put that whole argument about title defenses into the ground, but they had a point. There was some fine print, and a title re-match can only be achieved when you have successfully defended your title. I had one successful defense at Winter Wasteland, Matthias did not.”

Hartman thinks for a moment, trying to piece it all together.

HARTMAN: ”So you’re saying that Matthias is fucked?”

WILLIAMS: ”In a sense, I’m sure he’s got his big opportunity tonight to worry about anyway. That, and his pool water. That comes down from Perry though, so it looks like I won’t be worrying about him for now.”

Hartman pauses again, thinking this all over.

HARTMAN: ”So, that means you’re looking for a challenger?”

Bryan smiles, nodding his head.

HARTMAN: ”Somebody to step up, someone who will try to take that very title around your waist? Wow, I cannot believe it folks. You heard it here first!”

WILLIAMS: ”That’s not the only thing, though. Tonight is a big test for me, and I have even more reason to celebrate. Ana is here, Bronx is the NEW 4CW champ …things are looking pretty good, Gabe!”

Almost on cue, the camera shifts to show Anastasia Hayden and Bronx Valescence walking into frame. Bronx is in his suit, having the night off from wrestling. Anastasia’s hair is tied back and she’s still donning her gear from earlier in the pre-show. There’s a silence between the three as the vibe from Bryan and Bronx differs greatly from Ana.

WILLIAMS: ”Hey guys.”

VALESCNENCE: “Hey now, we can’t have a backstage segment with one champ and not bring in the other right? Plus, rumor has it we may have a problem with one another.”

The three stand in silence for a moment as Bronx and Bryan stare one another down before Bronx breaks into a cocky smile and Bryan returns it. Ana breaks the tension.

HAYDEN: “Champs.”

Bryan nods, as he and Bronx raise up their titles. An audible clunk, as the two titles are tapped together.

WILLIAMS: ”Certainly feels good, being here like this. Better than the last time we were all together in another place. We’ve come a long way, guys.”

Gabe, who was basically pushed out of frame, steps back in through the three. Squeezing his way back into the frame.

HARTMAN: ”Ana, Bronx, I’d like to ask you both the same question. How are you adjusting now? Bronx, obviously as the new 4CW champion. Ana, how are you adjusting to your new promotion?”

HAYDEN: ”Considering I just stomped out Sydney Riddle, I think it’s safe to assume I’ve adjusted pretty well.”

Gabe, unaware of how aggressive Ana is becoming, continues with the questions.

HARTMAN: ”Does it feel weird, knowing your boyfriend and friend are already doing much better than you?”

WILLIAMS: ”Woah, easy Gabe! What’s with the questions?”

Hartman, oblivious as ever, looks around confused.

HARTMAN: ”I don’t understand, just doing my job here. Ana seems like a highly motivated individual, I wanted to know what her endgame here is!”

HAYDEN: ”My answer won’t be something they’ll want to hear, but that’s all I’ll say on the matter for now. They’ve got a head start and I’ve got to focus on catching up. There is no endgame for me. And no nights off.”

Gabe thinks for a moment, before nodding.

HARTMAN: ”Fair enough-”

He quickly turns his attention towards Bronx.

HARTMAN: ”Champ, same question goes to you. How are you adjusting? Does it feel weird being the top guy in 4CW now?”

VALESCNENCE: “Whether this locker room likes to admit it or not, I’ve always been a top guy in the eyes of the fans and most of my peers. Just because I have a title on my waist doesn’t give me that status, I’ve already had it. I feel a great sense of pride knowing when people look at 4CW, they’re going to see my name on top. I know it comes as a shock to some folks, but this…”

Bronx brought the 4CW gold off of his shoulder and lifted it up beside him.

VALESCNENCE: “This is what I came back to do. The only thing left is to see what is in store for me at Ante Up…And who knows?”

Turning his attention to the other two, Bronx grinned.

VALESCNENCE: “Maybe I’ll see one of you two there.”

Gabriel nods his head.

HARTMAN: ”Maybe indeed, it seems that you three have lofty goals here in 4CW. I wish you all nothing but the best.”

WILLIAMS: ”Don’t be so weird about it, Gabe.”

And with that, the three were finished. Gabriel standing there, watching as they all left off camera.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
SCOTT STEVENS VS. DAKOTA SMITH

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

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!”

Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.

POWERS: ”Standing at six feet, six inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds.”

As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares down at his opponent.

POWERS: ”SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”

An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.

VASSA: ”Have you heard about the lon–“

JOHNSON: ”Knock it off, Vinny. Scott Stevens has made quite a name for himself in 4CW, despite some recent shortcomings.”

VASSA: ”There’s no doubt about that. Just a couple of months ago he challenged Elijah Carlson for the 4CW Championship at All Or Nothing. How did that go? Well… Eli lost the championship at the following pay-per-view to Bronx.”

JOHNSON: ”Scott came up short in his biggest match to date in 4CW but he really stepped up to put himself in that position. He’s been on a bit of a losing streak lately but with a win tonight over a former 4CW Champion, he can really turn things around.”

VASSA: ”He’s got his work cut out for him. Dakota Smith is back on the hunt. He’s hungry and will not stop until he reclaims his heart, or dies trying… and we all know The Butcher just won’t die.”

JOHNSON: ”Scott gave it his all, giving Eli a tough challenge when they faced off. With that same attitude and effort here tonight, Dakota might be in for a big surprise.”

“These voices in my head are telling me you have to die

I obeyed their every wish

I’ll fuck your body infront of your kids

Cannibalism, I serve you up to the cult

You’re my latest dish

Picking human meat out of my teeth like Albert Fish

I’m a sick fuck pissed at the fact that I still exist”

“Welcome to Hell” starts to vibe over the speaker system, the lights go dark for a few moments before strobe lights begin to flash light throughout the arena. Dakota Smith pushes his way out of the curtain, a look of disgust, and anger on his scarred face. He doesn’t take anytime to stop at the top of the stage instead just marching down the ramp like a man on a mission. His face twitches in an annoyed fashion as he mumbles to himself under his breath. As he reaches the bottom of the ramp he comes to a complete halt, standing motionless with his face turned to the ground. The butcher breaths start becoming heavy, and erratic – his whole body moving with each and every breath. Then right when he seemingly gets to his breaking point he lets out a blood curdling roar, slamming his fist across his chest and walking closer to the ring. He slams his fist down on the mat and distorts his head to the side, looking out over the audience like a psychopath waiting to see who stares him in the eyes.

POWERS: ”Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred thirty one pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is the former 4CW and Extreme Champion, ‘The Butcher’, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

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

VASSA: ”Now here is a man on a mission. Dakota has made it loud and clear that he wants the 4CW Championship back, he wants his heart back.”

JOHNSON: ”There have been a lot of rumblings over social media from him towards Perry Wallace about these qualifying matches for Ante Up. It seems as if The Butcher has turned against Perry.”

VASSA: ”He hasn’t had too many nice things to say about the man once the first qualifier was booked. He’s out right pissed!”

JOHNSON: ”Just two weeks ago we saw what he did to Cyrus at South Beach Brawl.”

VASSA: ”Did to Cyrus? Shit, he left that street in a complete wreck – his crime scene if you will.”

JOHNSON: ”Nonetheless, Dakota has moved past his demons and now has his eyes set on climbing back to the top of the mountain. He has a tough match up here tonight with Scott Stevens but a win will keep him right on track.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to be standing between Dakota and his goal. Someone could find themselves killed stepping in his path.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a lot of things from Dakota over the ye–“

Suddenly, Dakota pulls himself up to his feet and bursts out of the corner. Charging towards Stevens, he pushes the official aside as he passes in the center of the ring. Closing in, Dakota ducks his shoulder and lunges forward, aiming his shoulder for Stevens’ midsection. Jumping out of the way, Stevens clears up a path for Dakota’s body to go through the ropes, slamming his shoulder against the ring post. Without hesitation, Stevens grabs ahold of Dakota and then pulls him back through the ropes as the official signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Keeping Dakota folded over, Stevens begins kicking his leg up, driving his knee into Dakota’s face over and over. He then straightens Dakota and locks onto the back of his head with both hands. Using all of his strength, Stevens slams Dakota’s head down, face first onto the turnbuckle. Pulling his head back and turning it to the side, Stevens mouths off to Dakota for a short moment before slamming his face back onto the turnbuckle two more times. Turning Dakota to face him, Stevens grabs him underneath the arms and then slams Dakota’s back against the corner. Keeping Dakota in place, he then grabs onto the top ropes and uses them for leverage as he pulls himself in, delivering ramming knees to Dakota’s stomach.

With Dakota seeming out of it, Stevens drags him away from the corner before wrapping both arms around him and flipping him up and over his head with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Crashing to the canvas, Dakota rolls up to a seated position with his head hanging low. Back on his feet, Stevens then takes off running and hits the ropes directly in front of Dakota. Coming back on the rebound, Stevens drives the brace covering his knee into Dakota’s face, knocking The Butcher flat on his back. Standing over Dakota’s head, Stevens then begins dropping knee shots to Dakota’s face, still using the brace covering his knee as a foreign object.

VASSA: ”Is Scott even allowed to be using that right now?”

JOHNSON: ”Technically… no, at least I don’t believe so. It’s Dakota he’s using it against though. So I guess it’s just another day in the office?”

VASSA: ”Shouldn’t matter who it is! That’s not right.”

JOHNSON: ”Are you seriously defending Dakota right now? You’re terrified of the man.”

VASSA: ”As I should be!”

Pulling Dakota up to his feet, Stevens keeps his head pressed down, folding him over. Raising his right arm high above his head, Stevens then swings downward, hitting Dakota across the back with a forearm shot and dropping him back down to his knees. Stepping in front of Dakota, Stevens grabs onto his head with both hands. Just as he goes to lift Dakota up, The Butcher swings both arms inward, slamming his fists into the sides of Stevens’ torso. He then swats both of Stevens’ hand away from him, freeing himself. Seeing an opening, although not the cleanest one, Dakota slams his head forward, hitting Stevens in the crotch with a headbutt that the official fails to see from standing behind Scott.

Stevens buckles over in a world of pain as Dakota bursts upward to his feet, colliding into Stevens with a European uppercut that sends the big man stumbling backwards. Hitting the ropes, Stevens bounces off and stumbles towards Dakota, right into another European uppercut, this time standing him straight up. Dakota then swings with his left, connecting with a solid blow to the side of Scott’s head. Spinning around, Dakota makes a full revolution and hits Stevens right between the eyes with a discus elbow, dropping him down to both knees. Turning to his right, Dakota takes off for the ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, he hits Stevens with a knee lift underneath the chin and sends him down to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”Dakota’s turned it around and boy is he taking the beating to Scott.”

VASSA: ”It’s like the street fight two weeks ago but without all the wreckage.”

JOHNSON: ”Stevens got the jump on him from the start but Dakota’s taken charge now and if he keeps it up at this pace this is going to get ugly.”

Pulling Stevens up from the mat, Dakota locks onto his wrist and then goes to whip him to the far corner. With the reverse, Stevens whips Dakota to the ropes instead, sending him charging full speed towards the empty corner. Crashing against the corner, Dakota’s feet shoot up into the air and just as the touch back down, Stevens charges in at full speed. Closing in, Stevens lunges forward but before he knows it, Dakota side steps him and takes him down with a drop toe-hold, smashing his face into the middle turnbuckle. His head bounces off the turnbuckle and instantly, Stevens rolls over before dropping to his back. Grabbing onto the top rope, Dakota begins stomping onto Stevens’ midsection wildly. After nearly a dozen stomps to the gut, Dakota then lifts his leg as high as he can before kicking it down and aiming his foot towards Stevens face.

VASSA: ”WAIT!!!”

Grabbing onto Dakota’s foot, Stevens stops it just inches above his face. He then twists Dakota’s ankle, forcing him to turn his body completely around before falling stomach down to the mat. With an ankle lock in place, Stevens tries to snap Dakota’s ankle right there on the spot. Raising Dakota’s foot up and lifting his leg off the canvas, Stevens then slams it down, driving Dakota’s knee into the mat. Pulling Dakota up from the mat, Stevens hits him across the back of his neck for a forearm shot before spinning him around to face him. Lifting Dakota up from the mat, Scott holds him sideways before dropping back to the mat and throwing him up and over his head and into the corner with a fall away slam. Bouncing off the corner, Dakota crashes face first to the mat.

Back on his feet, Stevens stands over Dakota’s body as he pushes himself up to all fours. He then kicks Dakota in the stomach, pushing him against the corner. Leaving Dakota nowhere to go, Stevens then begins kicking him in the torso over and over until finally pulling him back to his feet. Lifting Dakota into the air, Stevens places him on top of the corner and then ascends there himself. Standing on the middle ropes, Stevens then lifts Dakota up and over his shoulders, holding him in a fireman’s carry position. Jumping backwards and away from the corner, Stevens then pulls Dakota over his head and as he lands on the mat, he drops Dakota across his knee with a gutbuster. Rolling Dakota off his knee and down to the mat on his back, Stevens then makes the cover as the official races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Tw–“

VASSA: ”Nope!”

JOHNSON: ”Dakota kicks out just before the two!”

Pushing himself up, Stevens gives Dakota two kicks to the ribs for good measure before pulling him back to his feet. Positioning himself beside Dakota, Stevens then goes for a front Russian leg sweep but gets stopped as Dakota delivers a brutal elbow shot to his nose. Covering his nose with both hands, Stevens’ eyes begin to water, giving Dakota a few moments to create some distance between the two. Moving a few feet behind Stevens, Dakota then rushes in behind and wraps both arms around his large body. Driving him forward, Dakota slams Stevens into the nearby corner chest first. He then applies a half nelson before dragging Stevens away from the corner. Lifting Stevens off his feet, Dakota slams him on top of his head with a half nelson suplex.

Rolling over to his stomach, Stevens remains on the mat, still tending to his nose with one hand and the back of his neck with his other. Hopping over Stevens, Dakota runs to the ropes and as he comes back, he drops a knee to the back of his head, slamming his face into the canvas. Rolling forward, Dakota rises back to his feet in a fluid motion. He then whips around and leaps straight into the air, coming down onto Stevens and planting his feet into his back with a double foot stomp. Jumping up again, Dakota then spreads his legs and falls onto Stevens back. Now sitting on top of Stevens, Dakota begins hammering the sides of his head with lefts and rights. After knocking the big man senseless, Dakota locks onto his head with both hands. Pressing Stevens’ face against the mat, Dakota begins dragging it back and forth from left to right.

Standing tall, he then rolls Stevens over to his back, revealing his face covered in blood. Beside his head, blood is smeared across the canvas. Pulling Stevens to his feet, Dakota drags him towards the corner. Standing between the corner and Stevens, Dakota turns Stevens around to face the opposite direction. Wrapping his arms around Stevens’ waist, Dakota goes to lift him up for a German suplex but comes up short as Stevens locks his leg with his. Dakota slams his head forward, hitting Stevens with a headbutt to the back of the head. He then goes to lift him again but this time, Stevens throws his arm back, hitting Dakota in the ear with an elbow. Reaching up and grabbing Dakota’s head, Stevens then lunges over, pulling Dakota over his back and slamming him to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Dakota was looking to use that corner as a weapon but Scott just overpowered him and ended that before he could even get started.”

VASSA: ”These two have been beating the hell out of each other from the start. At this rate, it’s going to come down to who wants it more.”

JOHNSON: ”Dakota may be a savage but Stevens clearly has the strength advantage and if used properly, he could very well put The Butcher away for the night.”

VASSA: ”He has an opportunity now let’s see if he takes advantage!”

Lifting his foot up as high as he can, Stevens then slams it down towards Dakota’s head. Rolling out of the way, Dakota avoids the stomp to the face as Stevens foot hits the mat with a thud. Stevens then goes for another stomp but misses again as Dakota continues to roll across the ring. Swinging his body around, Dakota kicks Stevens in the stomach, giving himself a short moment to climb back to his feet. As Dakota stands, Stevens swings forward and connects with a shot to Dakota’s jaw, whipping his head to the side. Dakota sling shots his body and swings it in the opposite direction, taking a shot at Stevens’ with a hook. Ducking underneath the attack, Stevens counters with a solid shot to Dakota’s body.

Standing straight up, Stevens hits Dakota across the chest with back to back knife-edge chops. He then grabs onto Dakota’s wrist before stepping in and closing the gap between the two. Walking Dakota backwards, Stevens presses him against the ropes before whipping him across the ring with a little extra force. Just as Dakota hits the ropes and bounces off, Stevens takes two steps to the center of the ring and then goes for a big boot as Dakota closes in. Dropping to the mat, Dakota slides underneath Stevens’ leg and behind him. Quickly turning around, Stevens reaches down for Dakota but instead catches a foot to the face as Dakota kicks his leg back and over his body, knocking him back a couple of steps.

Pushing himself up to his feet, Dakota’s window of opportunity closes as Stevens rushes in and kicks him in the stomach just as he stands. Buckling over, Dakota gasps for air as the kick depletes his lungs of oxygen. Pulling Dakota’s head between his legs, Stevens then wraps him up around the waist before lifting him up into the air for a powerbomb. Before Stevens has a chance to slam Dakota to the mat, Dakota begins raining down on the top of his head with vicious rights. In a last ditch effort, Stevens attempts to slam Dakota down but instead, Dakota pushes away and drops down to his feet in front of Stevens. Taking a swing for Stevens head, Dakota misses as he ducks. Stevens then pops up and locks onto Dakota’s head for the Toxic Sting. Ripping his head away from Stevens, Dakota pushes him in the back and sends him to the nearby ropes. As Stevens comes back shortly on the rebound, Dakota stops him in his tracks with a swift kick to the stomach. Pulling Stevens in, Dakota wraps his arm around his head before hooking Stevens’ leg. Lifting Stevens into the air with the fisherman’s suplex, Dakota transitions it into a sit-out spinebuster, laying Stevens out as the entire arena goes silent.

JOHNSON: ”Deadman Wonderland!”

VASSA: ”Stevens just about had him with the Toxic Sting and look at him now! He’s laid out by the hands of The Butcher!”

JOHNSON: ”This just might be it right here…”

Rolling over Stevens body and hooking his leg, Dakota props his back across Stevens body as the official drops in beside them for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”That’s all she wrote!”

“Welcome to Hell” hits the speakers as Dakota slowly pushes himself up from Stevens fallen body. The official then grabs his hand to raise it into the air but before he can, Dakota rips it away and growls in his direction. Not wanting any trouble, the official quickly races to the other side of the ring as the bell finally sounds.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Towering over the unconscious Stevens, Dakota begins yelling down to him before jerking his head upward and gazing over the crowd. Pacing the ring, Dakota slams his fist against his chest and then presses his fingers into his flesh, acting as it he were grabbing his heart. He then pulls his hands away, fists balled and stares at it momentarily as the crowd looks on. Dipping through the ropes, he then makes his way to the back, appearing even angrier than he did before the match.

Adrenaline pans backstage to a darkened area of the arena where the lights have been turned off. We hear some breathing going on with a figure standing in plain order but can’t be identified. The figure begins to speak in a low voice.

FIGURE: ”So here it is…here it has come. The one hundredth show of Adrenaline! Such a milestone, such an important reason to show up here tonight. Now there was something important that I came here tonight to provide, but for some reason, I can’t seem to wrap my head around it….I hope I didn’t get acid slipped to me when I wasn’t looking…I figured after my beautiful attempt to show Perry Wallace how much I cared…or was it didn’t care? Whatever. At any rate some stuff with Perry happened and I imagine there may have been a slight chance that Perry would try to get even after that mad display of genius I provided for him. It was brilliant because it shows that I just don’t give a fuck! Now with all that said..”

The figure lets out a cough as he brings his focus back into attention.

FIGURE: ”It’s been awhile since I’ve been around but not long enough. If I’ve been gone for awhile but come back and people knowing who the fuck I am as I speak in the third person, then it tells me that it doesn’t really matter how long I’ve been gone. Point is there are things that must happen moving forward in 4CW and I’m going to be the one who takes center stage because, why the fuck not? Things tend to go better and become more organized when I’m actually a centrifigure in 4CW. All this time that has passed, the comings the goings, rumors about my death etc etc, all that I’m only relevant for the fact that it has something to do with me speaking in the third person, again, that every time I’ve been here, I manage to pick up a following. Truth is I have one tell that is going to be revealed moving forward as I announce that I, speaking in the third person, am BACK in 4CW and it’s time to return to the roots that make you successful. That which it may, I’m announcing that after seven months of being gone….which that is still shrouded in mystery, mind you. As I speak in the third person again, its time to show 4CW that the best way of being successful is by starting off by just simply not giving a flying monkey ass fuck. And I….”

All of a sudden the lights in the area of the backstage area come on and laminate in full scale. As the audience reacts in shock and mixed reactions about who they see, this man, standing clearly as you can see him, wearing blue jeans, a chain link that goes down his side, followed by a leather jacket, the camera finally catches onto who this mystery man is as the commentators chime in from ringside.

JOHNSON: ”Wait what?! Oh my god that’s Brian Hollywood! That’s Hollywood! But how is he back? We all thought he was dead!”

VASSA: ”Well I guess you owe me one hundred bucks on that one Stevie. Totally called it that Hollywood would come back from the dead and not stay dead! It’s motherfucking HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLYWOOOOOOOOOD!”

Hollywood comes into view and just stares off towards the camera taking a brief moment of silence in his resurrection, so to speak.

HOLLYWOOD: ”That’s right motherfuckers, you’ve learned it hear first that Brian Hollywood is back and ready to start showing the entire roster just what you need to do to be important and getting what you want. I mean, Hollywood has been doing this for years and everywhere Brian Hollywood goes, Brian Hollywood turns it into an opportunity to really bring out the best of every federation Hollywood touches. Hollywood is always looking to make sure that Hollywood makes his impact and implicates that one strategy that will help Hollywood rise up through 4CW in doing whatever he needs to do in order to be…you guessed it….successful.

Here’s how it’s going to go kids. Brian Hollywood is looking around 4CW and I gotta say Hollywood is seeing there are things that aren’t “around anymore.” Don’t let that discourage any of you, Hollywood is going to make sure to take advantage of all that bullshit. Listen, the royal family of whatever is gone. Like literally the bloody line of management found some shrooms and haven’t been heard from since….now, where does that leave Brian Hollywood? It’s nice to know that there’s so many 4CW Championships up for grabs and no sign of authority to make any kind of statement saying that Brian Hollywood can’t contend for any of them. Therefore, Brian Hollywood shall announce that since this last full table is intact, that Hollywood intends to make the most of the opportunity to seize control of the one at a time. It’s time for Brian Hollywood to make the most of Hollywood’s promises and that’s why Hollywood is here to say he’s going to take what he wants. That being said, I welcome anyone to step in front of me and try to stop that from happening to Brian Hollywood. Adrenaline Sixty-Five is simply the beginning and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from achieving said titles when I want. That last thing being said that Brian Hollywood is BACK in full swing and Hollywood is going to get exactly what’s coming to him, exactly what he deserves and from here on out, that’s exactly what Brian Hollywood is going to expect……Hollywood says the time for action is now and Brian Hollywood comes for what is his…next Adrenaline, we shall witness the return of Brian Hollywood….and whatever the fuck is left of him, he will hit 4CW hard until he gets what he wants. Happy hunting 4CW….and Hollywood shall soon deal with all of you fucks . One way or another. Just remember one thing….you all asked for this to come and it has arrived! Brian Hollywood has arrived and there’s nothing you can do to stop the legend of Hollywood. Up from under the ground….you all shall be dragged down one by one from Brian Hollywood. Now let’s see who the first person to try and change what Brian Hollywood has in store. I welcome it all. Bring your best….if that’s what you call it. You’re all going to need it when you cross Brian Hollywood. Brian Hollywood WILL bring gold across his waist because lets be honest about this…..IT’S LONG FUCKING OVERDUE! I’ll see you all very shortly but don’t expect a welcoming committee bc Hollywood is going to tear it the fuck to the ground. And to you, Perry. If we’ve recovered from our acid incident, by the time your coherent and can understand this, come find me and we can talk. Hollywood knows what’s coming….I’ll see you all shortly!”

Hollywood simply lets out a laugh before he disappears back into the darkened area from which he came as Adrenaline pans back to ringside.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and Gentleman, coming off of South Beach Brawl in near perfect timing.”

VASSA: ”Some would say perfectly planned.”

JOHNSON: ”Perry doesn’t seem to do much by mistake, Vin. We have already had a huge night tonight and-“

Both men reach for their ears simultaneously ripping their headsets off as a high pitched frequency rings through their headsets and the entire arena. The scene from the camera becomes distorted as the perfectly planned one hundredth episodic installment of 4CW has found it’s first glitch. Fans become to grow restless and boo as the frequency drops to low mute tone and the “Technical Difficulty” colored bars fill the screen of the 4CW entrance tron accompanied by a robotic female voice.

“PLEASE STAND BY – PLEASE STAND BY”

VASSA: ”You jinxed us Johnson! Nothing is ever perfect!”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t hear anything in my headset. What the hell is that on the screen?”

As the camera pans towards the screen we see white blocked letters typed out along a lone horizontal black bar perpendicular to the multicolored malfunction.

VASSA: ”WHAT?!”

As the lights in the arena go black a double bass drum angrily kicks in simultaneously clashing with symbols as “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead blares over the speakers. Strobe lights flicker at the top of the entrance to the beat of the double bass drum.

“Judge me for what I am

The bastards in life

Who don’t pay their sins

You wage nothing

You gain nothing

Everybody’s down from here on in”

VASSA: ”OH MY GOD!!?”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny that’s… that’s…”

VASSA: ”I KNOW GOD DAMN WELL WHO IT IS! THAT’S BRYAN LAUGHLIN!!!”

His face covered in a smile he couldn’t wipe off if he tried, Bryan Laughlin struts out onto the entrance ramp into the strobe light. As the chorus of his unmistakable entrance song hits he raises his hands and the light rise in the arena perfectly displaying his black, sleeveless, denim vest and it’s custom patches sewn in. Holding up his index finger he then points to his waist where the Hollywood Pro Television Championship is strapped and displayed proudly.

Continuing his cocky strut down the ramp he sends random winks to the crowd, still unable to wipe the smile from his face as he gets to the apron and turns around leaning back against it and throwing his hands in the air again. This time with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Embracing the moment that he thought he’d never get to feel again before making his way up the steps and graciously grabbing a microphone from a member of the ringside crew.

LAUGHLIN: ”Well, I’ll be damned.”

The crowd still in a frenzy, his words are barely audible.

VASSA: ”I don’t believe my eyes! It’s really him.”

JOHNSON: ”It damn sure isn’t an imposter. What’s he doing here is what I want to know.”

LAUGHLIN: ”I mean, I’ll be honest. I only dressed casual because I assumed the majority of you would throw your eleven dollar sodas at me and I couldn’t risk wasting a tailored suit on that.”

JOHNSON: ”We always have a rowdy crowd in attendance. I’m glad that he remembered.”

VASSA: ”If he’s here to protest the outrageous prices of food and drinks then I stand with him.”

Sharing a laugh with the crowd, he walks towards the ropes on the hard camera side and leans against them. Liberally giving out more winks and smiles to the crowd as he waits for them to die down again before bringing the microphone to his mouth as he twirls it in a circular motion.

LAUGHLIN: ”You know, I had this whole speech written out. I was going to come out here and tell every single one of you in your paid seats and every guy in the back how much this place means to me. I probably would’ve ended up just tossing in a couple F bombs along the way to show you that I mean business. But, nothing in life goes as planned. One year ago I left this company and swore to myself and anyone who would listen or follow me on social media that I’d rather watch a ‘bus of peace’ driven by a brown skinned bearded man plow through that roster back there before I’d ever stand between these ropes.”

VASSA: ”You know who he’s referring to, right?”

JOHNSON: ”I have a pretty good idea and I expect a public outrage following tonight’s event.”

VASSA: ”He’s talking about the folks that got blamed for that time Bush did Nine-Eleven.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh here we go–just stop right there!”

With a brief pause he looks down at the mic flag with the square 4CW logo and even takes a moment to look around at the ropes he’s leaning on.

LAUGHLIN :”But then… then I saw something. I heard someone say something that hit me like a sledgehammer in my gut. I heard your former 4CW Champion say that his title meant… nothing?”

JOHNSON: ”Worst thing that any champion in 4CW could every say.”

VASSA: ”Bad enough that Queef says it not being a champion but a champion can’t say that about something they fought so hard for.”

The fans have a mixed reaction as Bryan raises one of his eyebrows inquisitively while looking around the ring.

LAUGHLIN: ”And it was in that moment that I knew he had sealed his fate. I knew he had already lost to Bronx. Hell, he knew it too because he knew he doesn’t and NEVER had what it took to be the captain who runs this ship. He knew he was simply a name who shall be forgotten in a story of the Bronx Destiny. But, that’s not his fault. He wasn’t the only one. He was bred to think that because this place has turned a lackadaisical eye to the suffrage of mediocrity and since I’m the champion of televisions around the world…”

VASSA: ”What is he talking about, Steve?”

Taking a moment he opens his vest again to show the camera a Championship belt that means literally nothing to the company, it’s simply a prop as he stands in that ring.

JOHNSON: ”I believe he’s talking about that championship he has around his waist.”

VASSA: ”But what’s that got to do with 4CW?”

LAUGHLIN: ”I can’t let the mediocrity grow while the majority of the roster here turns to their simulated silicon gods, that’s a phone by the way, to spill their emotions out like some bad pre-millennium heroin filled grunge cunt. I left last time because, as all good top secret agents know, you don’t hold the bomb in your hands as it goes off. You strategically place it, get the fuck out of the way and let it blow. Well, look around.”

JOHNSON: ”What exactly has blown up? 4CW is running at full steam.”

Making his way to each side of the ring he sarcastically holds his hand over his brow and peers out into the crowd.

LAUGHLIN: ”I don’t see any stupid Unstable shirts, do you guys? I don’t see any trash Omerta merch on any of you. I’d give you a golf clap, but I’m holding this microphone. My point is the bomb went off and the trash was wiped clean of this place. I couldn’t just come back when the trash died out, you have to wait for the radiation to decline. But it seems like the radiation bred some form of cunt-human-hipster-wrestler hybrid. A breed that truly baffles me. So while everyone sat by and let these hybrids poison your minds with fallacies I decided that I can no longer sit on the sidelines. Allow this right here to be the moment we declare our independence from the beta-male mindset in this company. I’ve come back because not only am I the champion of your televisions, but I am soon to be the master of Fate. Run and tell the news papers, folks. It may just be graps, but the god damn devil is back.”

VASSA: ”Bryan Laughlin is back ladies and gentlemen and he’s coming for the hipsters!”

JOHNSON: ”Makes you wonder where things stand between him and Jett.”

VASSA: ”Jett just dresses like a clown and that’s all.”

As the last word leaves his mouth Bryan walks over towards the ropes and hands the microphone back to a crew member before taking a dramatic bow in the middle of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Well there you have it folks, Bryan Laughlin has returned to 4CW right here on the century show.”

VASSA: ”He picked a big night to make a comeback and I for one am very excited about it.”

JOHNSON: ”Now we just sit back and watch where it goes from here.”

Yet again the scene switches backstage, this time to a black backdrop with a single empty chair waiting to be occupied. Feeling a bit restless the fans begin to voice their displeasure until the anonymous figure in a suit and cowboy hat from earlier in the evening appears for a third time. This time he moves to take a seat in the unoccupied chair, removing his hat to reveal his dark brown head of hair speckled with grey here and there. Clearing his throat, he began to address the fans in attendance and watching at home.

? ? ?: ”What a night it has been, right? A truly historic night for Four Corners Wrestling with a card stacked with high profile matches between big named superstars. I mean, hell. Felicity Banks is back tonight. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

His southern accent hangs heavily over his words but the fans can’t deny that Adrenaline Sixty-Five has been one for the ages and it’s not even close to being over with yet. Clearly, though, the man hadn’t taken this time to simply praise Adrenaline. No, there was something bigger waiting for him to announce.

? ? ?: ”And what better way to mark a historic night than to announce that Perry Wallace and I have come to terms on a deal that is truly going to change the scope of wrestling world wide, but more importantly here within the confines of Four Cee Dubya.”

He waits only a half moment to allow suspense to build before continuing.

? ? ?: ”You’re probably wondering who the hell I am, and I can’t blame ya. But all of that will be revealed in time. Tonight is about fixing the mistakes and missteps of the past. You see, this company has delved into the waters of second brands and shows in the past and has only found small amounts of success here and there. Let’s be honest. Fate was mediocre at best and Paul Knight has never been capable of handling business in a professional manner.”

With a knowing smile, the man holds his hands out in a welcoming gesture.

? ? ?: ”That’s all going to change starting now. I’m happy to announce that, as of this moment, Four Corners Wrestling will be debuting a new show unlike anything this world has ever seen. Coming soon, live on Friday nights, will be a show that features wrestling at its absolute best. You have my word that we’re going to set the world on fire.”

Placing his hat back on his head, he nodded to the audience politely.

? ? ?: ”The days of mediocrity and failure are past. Octane is coming your way, ladies and gentlemen. Stay tuned.”

With a slash across his throat the feed went snowy white and then black before switching once more.

UNDERCARD
JETT WILDER & PERSEPHONE MARQUIS
VS.
THE ASSHOLE ANTAGONISTS

POWERS: ”The following tag team match is scheduled for one fall…”

As the song begins, Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Upper Eastside Manhattan, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds and the same height as every other bitch in this place, which is five feet and seven inches tall. She is the former Fate Champion, The Queefster, Marky Mark, The Ass Eater Extraordinaire, Mr. Brightside herself – PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”

She had been waiting for Powers to finish announcing her, hands on her hips as she stares at him incredulously while still standing on the ramp. She shakes her head and sighs before suddenly her music is interrupted as the lights go dark once more while the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the fans more then likely unhappy to hear the music playing. Out from the back dancing and wilding out is Jett Wilder. He pauses beside Marquis with a smirk.

POWERS: ”And her tag team partner.. coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall, JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

With a roll of her eyes, Marquis walks the rest of the way down to the ring with Jett. The two hop up onto the ring apron and as Jett is about to get in the ring she taps him on the shoulder and puts her hands on her hips, pointing at the ropes. Nodding his head in understanding, Jett pauses and then waits patiently for her to hold the rope for him. Exasperated, Marquis enters the ring herself and leaves Jett to follow suit. In their corner the two begin discussing strategy for their upcoming match.

VASSA: ”I’m not sure how this is going to work. These two have been bickering and fighting more than Eli and Genie.”

JOHNSON: ”The best couples seem to have that dynamic to their relationship, Vinny. Maybe it will work out for these two as tag team partners.”

VASSA: ”You’ve gotta think that Persephone is still thinking about their match at South Beach Brawl, though.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s true, she isn’t one to let a loss slide. But she’ll have to work with Jett tonight if she wants to regain all that momentum she had heading into South Beach.”

The heavy introduction of guitar and drums from Avenged Sevenfold’s – ‘God Damn’ roar and rev up through the speakers of the arena’s sound system. The lighting dims as strobe lights begin flickering and motioning around the stage while fog lifts from the entry way.

STOP!!

Through the smoke, Adrian Tanner becomes visible wearing his usual ring attire, tonight in all blue with white trim and a match ring jacket with the Superman “S-Shield” logo with AT inside the shield on the back as the instruments roar once more. Stepping out from the fog, Tanner looks around the arena in approval nodding his head in determination.

STOP!!

Tanner pulls the 4CW Tag Team Championship belt from his shoulder and hoists it into the air with one arm continuing to nod as the instruments tear through the speakers yet again.

STOP!!

Tanner begins to lower the belt back to his side as he turns his head back to look at the entrance curtain again, as the instruments kick up for the final time, finally starting the song.

OH!!!!

The cheers begin to slowly filter to boos after Johnny Evil steps out onto the ramp with a bit of a reluctant look upon his face sporting the man bun, a black “Fall From Shangri-La, The Necessary Evil” zip-up hoodie- no sleeves and a pair of full tights. Silas Crowe steps out behind him waving his hands toward Evil and Tanner’s direction as if to say ‘look what I’ve done’. With an assholish smirk, Johnny gives a shrug of the shoulders before lifting his arm slowly into the air in which he holds the other half of the 4CW Tag Team Championship titles.

“Hey! Can’t you see we’re tripping on the wire

Walking through the candy land of our desires

Press the magic button and behold the world you crave

Where’s the fun in freedom when it renders you a slave?”

Johnny slings the title over his shoulder as Tanner begins walking down the entrance ramp, slapping hands with the audience and stopping to take pictures with some as Evil walks down the other side of the ramp, looking to the audience members giving him the finger. He begins to trash talk them for a moment, feeling humored before shrugging them off.

“Pledge allegiance, no flag

God nation, goddamned

The devil dances with the scorned

And how the fire keeps us warm”

POWERS: ”Making their way to the ring being accompanied by Silas Crowe… The 4CW Tag Team Champions, THE ASSHOLE AANNTTAAGGOONNIISSTTSS!!!”

As they get ringside, Tanner and Evil both slide into the ring while Silas Crowe paces around outside aggressively boasting and hyping them up. Tanner springs to his feet and ascends to the middle ropes at one end of the ring while Johnny comes to his feet and slow paces to the other corner. He goes to climb it but stops himself and arrogantly shakes his head no before turning around and dropping down into the corner, tossing his half of the tag titles to the side of him and taking a seat, reclining against the turnbuckles.

“Hey! It goes beyond big brother in the sky

Beyond the threat of martial law no Horus eye

No one came to cuff you they just handed you the chains

Blind follows the blind and now the one-eyed man is king…”

Tanner looks over at Evil in the corner and shrugs before looking out into the audience and raising his half of the titles into the air with one arm while extending his other outward with a finger gun, firing it off into the arena before doing a fall of faith backward onto the mat, kipping up to his feet after he lands. He hands his half of the titles to the official while waiting for the match to start.

VASSA: ”Now these two know what it means to make things work at all costs.”

JOHNSON: ”They made their impact as a tag team all the way back at Bad Company II and that momentum has carried through a broken friendship and a bitter feud all the way to the point where they were able to become tag team champions. “

VASSA: ”This is the match that Jett and Marquis asked for, though.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed. It seems whoever is booking things these days is finally starting to pay attention.”

VASSA: ”If Kaysie hadn’t shown up tonight I relaly would have thought she was dead.”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the referee signals for the bell the two teams converse in their corners before Tanner decides to start the match off. Opposite of him, Marquis and Jett come to the decision that she’ll begin the match as well. Immediately the fans cheer, having witnessed Tanner and Marquis square off on two seperate occasions in memorable matches. Mockingly, Tanner points his finger gun in Persephone’s direction and fires at her. Playfully, she clutches at her chest and then stumbles backward to her corner where she tags Jett in before giving Tanner the finger, much to the chagrin of the capacity crowd.

With a chuckle, Jett steps through the ropes and into the ring as Marquis exits. With a shrug, Tanner moves toward the center of the ring and is there met by Jett who swings a quick right jab in his direction. Light on his feet, Tanner steps back to avoid the blow and then leaps into the air, connecting with a drop kick that sends Jett down to the mat and scrambling back to his corner where he scowls across the ring at his opponents.

Backing up to his own corner, Tanner holds out his hand for Evil to tag in and, of course, Johnny obliges. Not wasting any time, Evil charges across the ring at the scowling Jett Wilder who manages to side step Johnny and drop him face first into the corner turnbuckle with a drop toe hold. Working quickly, Jett reaches out and Marquis tags herself in, which the referee acknowledges as both Wilder and Marquis connect on quick kicks to the back of Johnny Evils head before Jett steps out of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”A little bit of gamesmanship between the two teams early on.”

VASSA: ”All four of these competitors like to play the mind games a little bit but I’m surprised to see Marquis and Jett functioning so well as a team early on.”

Grabbing Johnny by his long hair, Marquis pulls Evil out of the corner and snaps a stiff chop across his chest before hooking her arm over his head and taking him down with a quick snap suplex. Popping back up to her feet, Marquis leaps into the air and drops a leg straight across Evil’s sternum before rolling off of him, pushing herself up to her feet and then dropping a stiff elbow down into his chest, causing Evil to clutch at his chest in pain. Instinctively he rolls towards his corner as Marquis shows off when she’s back up on her feet again. She notices half a second to late that Evil is moving to his corner and before she can do anything about it, Evil dives across and tags Tanner back into the match.

Before Adrian can get into the ring, however, Persephone has retreated across the ring and allowed Jett to tag himself back into the match, smirking and shaking her index finger at Tanner telling him no. Ready to go, Jett launches himself over the top rope and takes off at full speed across the ring in Tanners direction. Quick on his feet, Tanner leap frogs the sprinting Jett Wilder and then catches him with a neck breaker as soon as his feet hit the mat, dropping Jett down quickly.

Across the ring, Persephone steps through the ropes looking to get involved in the match which happens to draw the referee’s attention in her direction. The momentary distraction gives Jett, who has worked his way back to his hands and knees, the opportunity to bring his right arm up violently, colliding with Tanners family jewels, halting all momentum of the Asshole Antagonists. Pointing and laughing, Persephone steps back through the ropes and out onto the ring apron as the referee returns to paying attention to the two legal competitors with no clue what had just happened.

JOHNSON: ”You ever think maybe we should have more than one referee paying attention to the matches.”

VASSA: ”What? I didn’t see anything.”

With Tanner dazed, Jett takes off towards the ropes and leaps, his feet using the middle rope to springboard himself, flipping over at a high arch and crashing down across the body of Adrian Tanner Junior with a picturesque springboard moonsault. The fans, though no fan of Jett’s (in spite of his protests otherwise), give the young superstar credit with a round of applause at the high flying move.

Bouncing back up to his feet, Jett grabs onto Tanners hair and whips him into his own corner, charging across the ring and leaping, landing a body splash across the body of Tanner. The sudden assault taking its toll, Tanner collapses to the mat as Jett tags Marquis in. Immediately, Persephone uses the top rope to launch herself over and drop a leg squarely across the throat of Tanner. Meanwhile, Jett steps through the ropes and ascends to the top. The fans cry out in excitement as Jett leaps, landing a frog splash across the chest of Tanner.

Instantly, Jett gets back up to his feet and dashes across the ring, launching himself at Johnny Evil, knocking him down off the ring apron as Persephone dropped to her knees and covered Tanner, looking to make it three for three against the budding superstar.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”OH! Tanner kicks out at the last second!”

VASSA: ”I thought she had him, to be honest..”

At the last second Tanner manages to kickout, much to the dismay of Persephone Marquis. Outside the ring Johnny Evil and his manager have taken a bit of a time out, discussing things and trying to get the douchier side of the tag team champions back into the game. Meanwhile, the referee forces Jett back to his corner and out of the ring while Persephone stands yet again and pulls Tanner back to his feet. Forcing him back into her own team’s corner, Persephone extends her leg to place her boot squarely into Tanners throat.

Unhappy with the illegal maneuver the referee counts up to four before Marquis relents and shouts at the zebra striped official before tagging her partner back into the match. The two deliver simultaneous kicks to Tanners stomach before Marquis exits and Jett pulls him out of the corner. Hooking his arm around Tanners neck, Jett takes off at full speed and leaps, attempting to drive Tanner down into the mat. Instead, Tanner uses Jett’s momentum and shoves him off, sending the smaller competitor flying across the ring.

Tanner, desperately, flies towards his corner where Johnny Evil has just returned. As he dives, reaching out to try to tag his partner in, Jett spins back to his feet and catches him squarely across the jaw with a superkick that flattens Tanner half an inch before he can reach his partner.

JOHNSON: ”Marquis and Jett aren’t acting like two people who have never teamed together before.”

VASSA: ”You’d think that it was those two that had called on the services of a manager to get things working rather than the tag champs, who have had their game plan completely disrupted.”

JOHNSON: ”Things aren’t looking good right now that’s for sure. But there’s a reason these two are the tag team champions.”

VASSA: ”We’ll see if they can get their act together.”

Outside the ring Tanner and Evil’s manager shouts encouragement in to Adrian as Jett pulls him back to his feet. Allowing Tanner to steady himself for a moment, Jett lines up a right hand that Tanner blocks as soon as it’s thrown. Incensed, Jett throws another one that Tanner ducks under. Instead of turning back to fight with Jett, Tanner takes off at full speed and blasts Marquis down to the mat with a stiff forearm shot the mouth.

As soon as Tanner turns around, Jett is there but Tanner dodges it. For half a second a thought of going for the revolver flashes through his eyes but instead of risking it Tanner takes two steps as quick as he could and dove across the ring, stretching out and slapping hands with Johnny Evil whose hand was outstretched as far as he possibly could make it reach.

In a flash, Evil fires himself into the ring and charges at Jett, leaping and taking him down to the mat with a Lou Thiesz press, pummeling him with hard right hands as Marquis climbs back up onto the ring apron. She’s quick to step through the ropes to try and disrupt the sudden momentum of the Antagonists but before she could do anything, Evil stands up and catches her running at him, tossing her over his head with a picture perfect belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: ”And just like that the Asshole Antagonists are back in control.”

VASSA: ”C’mon Persephone!!”

Patiently, Evil glances back and forth between the fallen Jett and the fallen Marquis. It’s Marquis who gets back to her feet slowly, having no business in the ring. As Evil steps towards her she instinctively thrust a hand upward, jabbing Johnny right in the eye with her thumb, causing him to stop and rub at his eyes, his vision impaired.

Checking on her partner, Marquis tries to rouse Jett but as she does so, Tanner pulls himself up on the ring apron and then leaps, using the top rope to springboard into the ring as Marquis turned, catching her across the jaw with a flying forearm, knocking her down and out of the ring.

With the match on the verge of falling into complete chaos, the referee immediately forces Tanner back out of the ring just as Jett has started to get back to his feet. Evil, rubbing at his eyes, turns as Jett gets back up and gets caught with a forearm to the jaw himself, knocking him back into his corner. Jett follows him to the corner and doesn’t notices as Tanner slaps Evil across the back, tagging himself in.

JOHNSON: ”Jett didn’t see the tag!”

VASSA: ”Oh no…”

Quickly Tanner climbs to the top rope as Jett plants a stiff blow to Johnny Evils jaw. Before he can land another strike, Tanner grabs onto his neck and leaps off of the top rope. BAD NEWS! In a flash, Tanner bounces up to his feet, flailing his arms everywhere before slapping his partner on the face lightly and pointing at him and then at Jett.

Outside the ring, Marquis is still down and recovering, dazed from the flying forearm Tanner had landed moments earlier. Inside the ring, Tanner has pushed himself up to the middle rope and sat down on the top turnbuckle as Johnny Evil pulled Jett back to his feet and lifted him up, setting him across Tanners shoulders. Tanner then stepped up to the top rope as the fans began to buzz with anticipating.

In the blink of an eye, Tanner leapt into the air and Evil positioned himself perfectly to set up a neckbreaker on the end of the top rope powerbomb.

JOHNSON: ”THE RAPTURE! HOLY SHIT”

VASSA: ”I think Jett might be dead…”

Immediately on impact Tanner rolls over Jetts fallen body and hooks the leg.

ONE

.

.

Outside the ring Marquis stirs, pushing herself back up to her feet, her instincts sensing the danger in the ring.

TWO

.

.

Marquis throws herself toward the ring apron, sliding into the ring and pushing herself to her feet. As she does so she throws her body weight in the direction of Tanner and the pinfall attempt.

THREE!!!

Evil, at the last moment, manages to grab onto her leg and tackle her to the mat, her body bouncing off the mat a few inches away from reaching her intended target as the referee’s hand came down a third time.

JOHNSON: ”The Asshole Antagonists did it!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know that that’s something they should be proud of. A team that has never competed together before literally just gave them everything they could handle. I think it’s back to the drawing board for our tag champs.”

JOHNSON: ”A win is a win and tonight those two managed to pull off a win when it seemed like luck just wasn’t on their side..”

VASSA: ”Make all the excuses you want. Jett Wilder and Persephone Marquis were clearly the better team here tonight. It was one mistake.”

JOHNSON: ”And Evil and Tanner capitalized on it. You know what I call that? Good teamwork and good chemistry. I think the record held by JPD and Tara might be under threat.”

VASSA: ”No way. I bet money that Evil and Tanner won’t be champions after Bad Company II.”

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

In the ring, Evil and Tanner have their hands raised in victory as a dejected Persephone checks on the fallen Jett Wilder. Meanwhile, Powers announces the victory before the scene fades backstage.

POWERS: ”HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS BY PINFALL… JOHNNY EVIL… ADRIAN TANNER JUNIOR… THE ASSHOLE AANNTTAAGGOONNIISSTTSS!!!”

The scene transitions backstage to the halls of the Oracle Arena, right outside of temporary office belonging to Perry Wallace for the evening. The sounds of voices from inside flood the hallway as the camera slowly creeps around the corner of the door jam. Inside, Perry Wallace sits on top of his borrowed desk for the evening and across from him, Amber Ryan sits in a leather chair, relaxed as she looks on. The door is then hear softly closing in the background as the camera enters the office.

WALLACE: ”The moment I ran into you months ago, I knew you would come into 4CW and quickly pick up momentum. It’s a shame that I couldn’t have signed you earlier, it truly is.”

Beside him, a bottle of Scotch rests, along with a few empty glasses. Grabbing one of the glasses, he turns it over before placing a few pieces of ice into it and filling it halfway with the brown liquid.

WALLACE: ”I understand you had past loyalties and whatnot. I get it, I can really respect that. The past is the past though and here you are, in 4CW with quite a little streak going for yourself straight out of that gate.”

Picking up the glass, he turns his attention back to Amber before extending his arm and offering her the drink. Silence fills the room momentarily before she slowly raises her hand, signaling that she is alright without it. Shrugging his shoulders, Perry pulls the glass back in and up to his mouth, taking a quick sip of the contents.

WALLACE: ”Here we are, just a few shows away from arguably 4CW’s biggest pay-per-view of the year. You know, Ante Up was our first pay-per-view ever, and we’ve always done things big to say the least. I’m not quite sure how familiar you are with the past events, but the main event is a rather large one with a lot of stakes on the line. A lot of people will see an opportunity to earn their way into the big match – a sixty minute fourway ironman match. To be quite honest with you, I’d like to see you in one of the next two qualifier matches, one of the next eight opportunists.”

A raise of the eyebrows is the most reaction Perry receives for his effort, followed by a familiar half smile from the redhead.

RYAN: ”I knew there must have been an ulterior motive for you being nice to me. Can’t say it’d be the most popular decision you could make though.”

Brushing some loose strands out of her face, Amber leans further back into the chair.

RYAN: ”Between you and me, I’ve enjoyed flying under the radar so far. You know, it’s nice not having a massive target on my back sometimes and now you want to throw that spotlight my way… I’m not turning it down by any means, nor am I not appreciative. Just find it curious, is all.”

Standing up from the desk, he takes a drink from the glass before placing it down onto the desk. Holding up his hand, he then extends four fingers while looking to Amber.

WALLACE: ”Four people in the main event at Ante Up. Not just any four, but the 4CW Champion along with three of the best who have earned their spots in the match. Overall, once it’s all said and done, twelve people will have had their chance to enter the biggest match of the entire card. Your time in 4CW has been impressive thus far, just as your career before 4CW. I just want to give you a fair shake, despite the little differences we’ve had in the past over a year ago.”

Amber chuckles half-heartedly.

RYAN: ”That’s a lot of smoke you’re blowing. No pressure, right?”

WALLACE: ”Well…”

Turning away, he slowly walks around the desk before having a seat on the other side from Amber.

WALLACE: ”Maybe just a little. It is a pretty big match after all, but I wouldn’t be here telling you that I’d like to see you in a qualifier if I didn’t think that you could step up to the challenge. Under the radar, targets, whatever… I think that even I know that you always up for a good challenge. Am I right?”

RYAN: ”You have no idea–“

BOOM!!!

With a loud thud, the door to the office slams against the wall – had being kicked in by none other than Dakota Smith. The look on Dakota’s face was nothing more than psychotic. His smile almost stretched ear to ear, and his eyes looked as if they could pop out of his skull. Wallace quickly jumps up from his seat, looking rather frightened by the appearance of the butcher. Amber on the other hand had a slight smirk on her lips as she looked back and forth between Perry and Dakota.

Dakota’s head slowly cocked to the side as he made his way into the room, his eyes never leaving Wallace. A single drop of sweat could be seen falling down Perry’s face as Dakota gets closer. Standing in front of the desk now, Dakota picks up the bottle of alcohol and slugs down a gulp, still watching Wallace as he does so. It’s when The butcher starts to make his way around the desk when Perry snaps out of his frozen state and takes a few steps backwards. With every step Dakota takes forward, Perry takes one back. The butcher stops and plops down in Perry’s chair, tapping the bottle of alcohol against his knee as he begins to speak

SMITH: ”Well… If it isn’t my friend Perry Wallace… Who knew I’d find you here in your office… Well I knew, but who would’ve thought you had the balls to stick around after what transpired earlier in the night You see… The fact that you aren’t hiding from me Perry either means one of two things. You’re fucking dumber than that perm on the top of your head, or… You have reconsidered giving me what is rightfully mine. So? Which is it Perry…”

Dakota takes another slug scotch, licking his lips as he pulls the bottle away from his mouth. Backing up to the other side of the room, Perry keeps a safe distance between the two before responding.

WALLACE: ”What you say is yours is on the line at Ante Up. I just can’t throw you in a championship match with Bronx. There’s one qualifier tonight and then two more to follow. I think it’s probably best if things just calmed down a little.”

Dakota’s tongue extended from his mouth and circled his lips as he ran his hand through his beard. The butcher was nodding slightly, but not in a agreeing way, more of a annoyed nod, fast and almost chaotic. He runs his head around his neck, trying to process the words that had just came from Wallace’s mouth.

SMITH: ”Calm down? You’re telling me to calm down!? Oh my sweet little piggy, you best remember who in the fuck you are talking to… You don’t give me fucking orders!”

Putting the bottle back up to his lips Dakota takes one final sip before pouring the remainder of the bottle out on top of Perry’s desk, an amused grin forming on both Dakota’s and Amber’s face.

SMITH: ”Last year, I was the champion, I was in the main event! And then… I lost, I’ll admit that… But I never got my rematch Perry… If you remember correctly that wanna-be-hero Jair Hopkins blind sided me hours before we were set to compete. Setting me ablaze like a cross on his own lawn. So… You owe me a rematch Perry, YOU OWE ME THE CHANCE TO TAKE BACK MY HEART! Qualifiers… Was it not enough that I beat our former champion Eli, while he still had the belt? Was it not enough when I got rid of the human cum stain known as Cyrus Riddle? You and I both know I don’t need to earn my place, because as far as I’m concerned… I’ve been number one contender for over a year now.”

Listening to Dakota, Perry nods his head in agreement as The Butcher makes his claim for the 4CW Championship. His attention then slowly turns to the desk where his Scotch is now covering the surface, left to waste. Shaking his head in disappointment, Perry looks back to Dakota, locking eyes with the mad man.

WALLACE: ”No one is giving orders here, come on man! I’m just saying let’s all take a step back before you go and do something that even I know you’ll regret afterwards. Now, you just need to trust me here, Dakota. When you were abducted right after winning the championship to begin with, who assembled a party to find your whereabouts and release you? Me. Shortly after at Winter Wasteland when you returned, the championship was just about to be vacated but who was it that sanctioned a match right there on the spot for you to defend? Me. Who was it that laid down on that canvas in order for you to do so? Me. So don’t act like I haven’t been there for you.”

Stepping away from the corner, Perry slowly approaches the desk with his full attention given to Dakota.

WALLACE: ”Now maybe it is my fault that things got a little rough between you and Cyrus, I’ll admit that. But here you are. You walked away from South Beach Brawl and you’re the one standing, or sitting in my office here tonight. I understand how frustrating this can be that Jair never gave you the rightful rematch that you deserved. You have to look at this from my perspective. The fourway at Ante Up is locked in, has been for the past two years. After tonight we’ll be one match in with the qualifiers. You know as well as I do that my position doesn’t allow me to just throw you into the big match at the pay-per-view.”

Dakota ponders over what was just said, then seemingly out of nowhere he hurls the empty bottle of Scotch at the wall to his side. Wallace and Amber both jump a tad bit as a silence falls across the room. It was then that Dakota’s face relaxed, a small chuckle escaping from his lips.

SMITH: ”No.. You’re right… How foolish it was of me to think that you could just pull something out of your ass and put me in a championship match… I mean that would almost be as deplorable as laying down in the center of that ring for me… Oh wait, you just said that you did do that. So maybe I’m just a little cloudy on what you can or cannot do. Because here I have been thinking that you where the boss Perry…The guy who runs the show..”

Dakota stands up from Perry’s chair and places his fists down on the liquor soaked desk.

SMITH: ”Sure, I could be placed in one of those qualifiers, and yes I would win and that would get me in the main event at Ante Up. But again, I’m already the number one contender. Guaranteed rematch clause, now if I’m not mistaken that is written down somewhere on a legal binding document. Making me the number one contender until I get my rematch. So… There’s one of two things we could do here “boss”. You can honor my fucking contract, and everything will go back to normal – you’ll have your war hound back at your side… Or… You can put me in a qualifying match. But if you do that… Then me and you Perry? We will never be the same again.”

WALLACE: ”Goddamnit…”

Taking a few steps back from the desk, Perry opens both palms and places his face into them before signing. After a few short moments of rubbing his hands back and forth across his face, he lowers them and looks back to The Butcher.

WALLACE: ”We may have a small problem. While you were in fact guaranteed a rematch, that clause is now null and void due to the fact that the championship has been defended three times since and during that time span you were pronounced dead. Look at it like a life sentence in prison or something. That ship had sailed. Unfortunately, there’s nothing legally binding at the moment and you’re more than welcome to have a lawyer or even yourself look into that. This isn’t an easy one for me. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

Adjusting the collar of his shirt, Perry then wipes the sweat from his forehead.

WALLACE: ”The only other option there is would in fact be a qualifying match, as much as I can tell you hate hearing me say that right now.”

Dakota nods his head once again, this time in a more pissed off than annoyed manor. He then begins to walk around the next, slowly as not to spook Wallace.

SMITH: ”Lawyers? Oh Perry… Lawyers would be the least I could do… But we both know that’s not the way I play this game.”

Continuing to walk towards Wallace Dakota stops directly in front of the much small man. He lets out a sigh, as if he didn’t want it to come to this. He then puts his hands of Perry’s shoulders, softly shaking him, in a comforting way.

SMITH: ”You’ve made your choice.”

Perry’s eyes widen in fear as Dakota breaths heavily, staring him dead in the eyes.

WALLACE: ”Ahem… ahem… AHHHEEEEMMMMM!!!”

Clearly having been distracted by the conversation, or confrontation depending on your point of view, taking place before her Amber snapped it some form of attention before relaxing back into the seat.

RYAN: ”I guess I’m to assume that was for my benefit–although truth be told I thought I’d just melted right into the floor or something for awhile there. Not quite sure what you expect me to do though, I don’t get paid quite enough to deal with your problems- let alone my own.”

Dakota takes his hands off of Perry’s shoulders and half ass glances at Amber before turning back to Wallace.

SMITH: ”Really Perry? Wanting your hired escort to fight your battles? The fuck she gonna do? Suck my dick till I pass out?”

WALLACE: ”I wouldn’t call her an escort. She’s been on quite a roll since signing with 4CW – in the ring of course. Goddamn, son.”

Despite the remark, Amber reacts with less offense than what would probably be deemed appropriate.

RYAN: ”It’s alright Wallace. Some people are clearly more busy wanting off to old pictures of when they were still champion to realize that the landscape is changing faster than their limited scope will allow them to comprehend. You don’t need to know me Dakota, not till the main event of Ante Up at least… if you get there of course.”

SMITH: ”I’m aware of who you are, doesn’t change the fact that if you do make it to the main event… Perry is still paying you to get fucked. “

Cautiously, Perry steps in between the two, attempting to somewhat keep the peace before things get out of hand.

WALLACE: ”Don’t get too far ahead of yourself there. She’ll be in a qualifying match just like you will. After that, it’s up to you two to get to the main event at Ante Up. So until then, let’s not take our eyes, well yours, off the bigger picture.”

Resting her odd converses on the edge of the desk, trying to avoid the liquor staining the canvas of her shoes, Amber looks between the two with an unwavering mischievous smile.

RYAN: ”Relax Wallace, we aren’t gonna start throwing hands. Last thing big bad Dakota fucking Smith needs is to lose to a girl in a fistfight. Not sure his reputation could withstand any more anal trauma at this stage.”

Looking to Amber, Perry smiles before nodding in her direction.

WALLACE: ”I’m guessing calm isn’t in either of your vocabularies. Either way, good luck to you in the next qualifier, Amber.”

Dakota lets out a growl, his lips snarling like that of a rabid dogs. He looks at Perry, then at Amber and then back at Perry before shaking his head and beginning to walk towards the kicked in door.

WALLACE: ”This is a good thing, Dakota. A win-win for everyone.”

Stopping in his tracks, Dakota tilts his head back, waiting for the next words to come out of Perry’s mouth.

WALLACE: ”With two more matches and you not being in the next, at least I can sleep easy at night knowing that I won’t be killed in the next couple of weeks. And you, well, we all know how you perform when you’re pissed off going into a match. This could be the best thing going for you right now.”

Dakota gets a small grin on his face, as he shakes his head in seemingly disappointment. He then brings his arm up and pats Wallace on the cheek twice, the first pat soft, and the second one being a wee bit stiffer.

SMITH: ”Whatever you say boss.”

Raising his hand to his face, Perry rubs his cheek where Dakota delivered a love tap.

WALLACE: ”It doesn’t have to be like this Dakota. If anyone knows how to light a fire under your ass going into a match it’s this guy right here. You’ll thank me in the end, bet on that. Until then, don’t go off and do anything crazy–well, not too crazy considering who you are.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Dakota turns his back to them both before heading for the door and stepping out into the hallway. Turning right, he disappears from the scene as Perry glances over at Amber.

WALLACE: ”You could have stepped in at any time there when things were getting a little too close for comfort.”

Lazily dragging her feet off the desk, Amber finally gets to her feet before responding.

RYAN: ”I probably could’ve… but where would be the fun in that?”

Turning to leave with a shrug of her own, she pauses by the door rattling it slightly as it hangs off it’s hinges awkwardly.

RYAN: ”Oh, and you might wanna get this fixed, you know, in case he comes back.”

With that, Amber too disappears out into the hallway with a certain knowing smirk plastered across her features. Walking to the desk, Perry looks down at the spilled mess of liquor across the surface before shaking his head and lowering it just before closing his eyes, taking deep breaths.

The sound of a pipe organ fills the arena as the people begin to boo. After the dramatic note, there is no pyro. The fourth tier of Dancing Mad hits, heralding the arrival of the man who steps out onto the stage.

POWERS: “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Matthias Barrows!”

Unlike most nights, tonight Matthias is alone and empty handed. He tries to drown out the booing as he slowly strolls down the entry ramp.

JOHNSON: “Not a warm reception here tonight for the former Pride Champion.”

VASSA: “You might be lucky that he can’t hear you, Steve. It’s been a rough two weeks.”

JOHNSON: “It was two weeks ago at South Beach Brawl, and Vinny, I’ll give him this; Matthias Barrows fought his heart out that night.”

VASSA: “Boy did he ever. When it was all said and done, Matthias Barrows face was a crimson mask thanks to a wound that would take eight stitches to close.”

JOHNSON: “But it wasn’t Matthias’ night. Bryan Williams made a statement and forced him to tap out for the first time in his 4CW career. I’ll say this, Vinny; Williams may now be a two time Pride Champion, but I’ll never say Matthias isn’t fit to be a champion after the performance he gave at South Beach Brawl.”

VASSA: “Ever since, Matthias has been looking forward to this night. I spoke to him in the back earlier, and he told me that he found the silver lining to his dark cloud. I have a feeling we’re about to find out what it is.”

JOHNSON: “We’ve been waiting for him all night, and now we have him.”

Matthias walks up the steps and steps into the ring. He grabs a microphone as his music dies out, allowing the booing to be heard more clearly. Matthias simply sneers at them as he raises the mic to his lips, but before a single word comes out, a chant erupts from the crowd.

YOU TAPPED OUT!

YOU TAPPED OUT!

YOU TAPPED OUT!

VASSA: “These people are so rude!”

The chanting continues for a few seconds before Matthias finally interjects himself.

BARROWS: “And you people enjoyed it, didn’t you!?”

The crowd cheers in approval.

BARROWS: “Yeah, Bryan Williams earned a FLUKE win over me, and now I’m not the Pride Champion anymore, and all of you are so happy you could shit! To be honest, by the smell of Oakland, I’d say that most of you already have!”

This gets the fans booing some more, as Matthias paces around the ring.

BARROWS: “The amount of disrespect that I’ve had to deal with since arriving in 4CW is off the charts, and I’m not going to take it anymore. But it’s okay. I may not be the Pride Champion anymore, but I still achieved more than any of you ever will! Truth be told, I’d STILL be the Pride Champion had I gotten MY way for once. If that had been an ambulance match like I requested, Bryan Williams would be in the hospital right now and on the shelf for the foreseeable future! At All or Nothing, Williams got to pick the stipulations, and I beat him. But when he came looking for seconds, did Matthias get what HE wanted? Oh, fuck no! I’m the bad guy, remember? I’m SUPPOSED to be treated unfairly!”

The crowd boos some more, and a few even try to get the “You tapped out” chant going again.

BARROWS: “And now that my critics and naysayers are back to the point that they won’t shut up, I’m left with no choice but to do something drastic. As I listen to all of you, I hear that cliché about how “When you’re knocked down, you have to get back up.” Check my history; When Matthias Barrows gets knocked down, he doesn’t just get back up, he ups the fuckin’ ante!”

VASSA: “You think he’s talking about Ante Up?”

JOHNSON: “It could have something to do with this alleged announcement of his.”

BARROWS: “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are some big dates coming up on the 4CW Calendar. Take tonight for instance; this is 4CW’s one-hundredth overall show, and you people will have to suffer with me winning the main event tonight and moving on to the title match at Ante Up, which is less than two months away!

JOHNSON: “What a night that’s going to be when we get to Las Vegas.”

BARROWS: “But THEN!”

Matthias smiles to himself.

VASSA: “Then what?”

BARROWS: “By my count, that would put Adrenaline sixty-nine on July twelfth. Now I’ve been incarcerated in this prison for six months now, and the general consensus is that in order to take over a prison, you have to take down the baddest dude in the joint. Now for those of you who get confused by metaphors, namely Bryan Williams, that means, by the general consensus, defeating Bronx Valescence and claiming the 4CW Championship would make you the baddest dude in the joint.”

VASSA: “Sounds logical to me.”

BARROWS: “But you see, after six months in 4CW, it seems evident to me that I’m somewhere off of the general consensus. And when that happens, you can’t move forward unless you look for alternatives. So now I start thinking of other ways to get noticed, other ways to take over this prison, a “Plan B” so to speak. See, that’s what separates me from you idiots; the ability to always be thinking.”

The crowd boos some more, but Matthias carries on.

BARROWS: “Plan A will come later tonight at the expense of Jason Cashe, Mariano Fernandez, and Keaton Saint. But the beauty of Plan B is that it’s much more…what’s the word I’m looking for? It’s much more…inclusive. You see, you might think I’m just bitchin’ out here, but the truth is there are a lot of people in that locker room that could make the same claims that I’m making; like they feel they deserve a moment in the sun. The difference is that they don’t have the balls to grab the bull by the horns and take what they feel is theirs.”

VASSA: “What is he talking about?”

JOHNSON: “You got me.”

BARROWS: “For me, it’s simple. The goal is to get noticed, to be the center of attention. “Plan A” is to win tonight’s Fatal 4-Way, go on to Ante Up, and become the 4CW Champion.”

VASSA: “What’s Plan B?”

BARROWS: “Plan B” you might consider to be somewhat of a nuclear option. “Plan B” means getting noticed even if I have to–, no scratch that. “Plan B” means getting noticed…by bringing the whole locker room down on my head!”

JOHNSON: “What the hell does that mean?”

BARROWS: “I’m thinking we have a match that will require speed, skill, endurance, and even a little bit of luck to win an every-man-for-himself situation in a field of, oh, about thirty.”

VASSA: “THIRTY!? Did he just say thirty?”

JOHNSON: “That’s what it sounded like to me!”

BARROWS: “What I’m thinking is that we have everybody draw a number, the first two start, then every ninety seconds, someone new comes out, and if you’re thrown over the top rope and to the floor, you’re out.”

VASSA: “Wow! That would be a huge match!”

JOHNSON: “No argument there, I love that idea!”

BARROWS: “But for a match this big, there needs to be a prize that goes to the winner. For me, its shits and giggles, but if someone has something they want to put up for grabs, more power to them. The long and short of it goes like this; I am challenging the locker room to a match I call…”

“The 4 Corners Frenzy Match.”

VASSA: “The 4 Corners Frenzy Match. I hope we get to see it!”

BARROWS: “An idea like this could only come from me, and I plan to have this match whether it’s sanctioned or not! So now that it’s out in the open, over the next few weeks, I’ll be issuing invitations to the select 4CW Competitors to compete in this match. But as for tonight, Jason Cashe, Mariano Fernandez, and Keaton Saint have an ass kicking scheduled and I can’t be late. So if you’ll excuse me…”

Matthias drops the mic and takes his leave as his music plays again.

JOHNSON: “Well there it is. Matthias Barrows has thrown down the gauntlet for Adrenaline 69 on July 12th”

VASSA: “Boy did he ever! Thirty competitors, all out for themselves! What a match that will be!”

JOHNSON: “If it’s confirmed, Vinny, and I hope it is. It would be a first ever for 4CW!”

She had just competed in a Tag Match with Jett as her partner, but Persephone Marquis is standing backstage; staring at the door to a locker room. There weren’t really name plates on doors like you’d expect to see in some of the scripted shows seen elsewhere. These were Arenas, where Team Sports are played. Therefore, a handful of the talent shares a locker room just the same as the teams who played at Oracle throughout the year. Yet, this door is different. A single piece of printer paper taped to the door reads “CASHE” on it.

MARQUIS: ”This motherfucker!”

After her words fill the empty space around her, she shoulders into the door. Turning the lever to get the door open. It’s a bathroom mainly used for staff members, but Cashe has turned it into his own little locker room. As Queef enters she finds Cashe sitting next to a Urinal with his back to the wall. He looks unsettled until his eyes lock on his beautiful fiancee. Even when she’s covered in sweat, he could put her on a plate and dive in; knife and fork.

CASHE :”Hello, Boog…”

MARQUIS: ”You need to get up right now.”

CASHE: “Why? What’s wrong?”

Even as he was questioning her request, he was getting up. Using the urinal handle to give him support, he stands up, but has a lean on him as he holds his stomach.

CASHE :”I’m not sure what is fucking me up more, my gut or my butt. Not sure what I even ate, but HORY CHET!”

The growling in his stomach is unmatched until growling from Queef began. Cashe’s eyes go wide as he sees the look she’s giving him. It was like a stand off as both seem to be frozen with their eyes on each other.

CASHE :”Wha–“

Springing forward the only things heard is the squeaking of her boot soles and Cashe gasping as he sees her coming into attack. She was too, straight unleashing combinations at him. Catching him to the face with a slap, an uppercut and a well placed hook that stumbles him up. She’s swinging with anger but her face holds a red hue which is entirely different from her usual yellow look. Her eyes are lined with tears as her punches lessen in power, but keep up with speed as they kept coming.

Grabbing her arms, Cashe pulls her in and the two hug. With one hand he holds her to the back of her head. She sniffs as her face sits buried into his chest.

CASHE :”What’s wrong, Boog? Talk to me..”

She’s talking, but it comes out like Lilo with her face buried in a pillow. Get the reference? Can you picture the scene? Good.

Only thing you can hear are mumbles of her muffled voice. Letting himself find a reason to smile once for tonight, he pulls her away from his chest so he can see her face. She’s crying, so he quickly held her face. Softly using his thumbs to wipe the tears from her eyes. She shakes her head, moving his hand away from her. She glares at him through her tears.

MARQUIS: ”You get on my nerves! Every other fucking day, it’s the same shit, Jason. Anything I do, anyone I talk to – you have a fucking problem and then we’re back to running around, trying to figure out who is going to say fuck it first. If you want to leave, then fucking leave, Jason. Don’t have me running around in constant fucking circles. I get anxious, I get angry. I start to hate you so goddamn much. And for what?”

She pushes away from him, looking as if she’s going to swing on him once again. But, of course, she doesn’t. She takes a few steps away from him instead.

MARQUIS: ”You put me through all of this shit for what? What the fuck is your problem? The constant disrespect, coming at me for a single loss over the span of months and trying to make me out to look like an idiot and a loser when I can run around this whole fucking company on my worse day. How weak do you see me? How stupid do you think I am? I will break your fucking mouth wide open and you know it! Now what, though? You talk all this shit, you flirt with my girlfriend constantly, and now we’re hugging and we’re good?”

Queef sighs and looks at Cashe, shaking her head once again as he slowly approaches her. He’s careful as he puts his arms around her once again, bring her close.

MARQUIS: ”I hate going through the same shit all the time. I hate it. Like an endless circle. You’re so fucking lucky I love you more than anything else in the entire world, or I would’ve already been gone by now.”

There’s no interest on his part to argue. Not with her AND his stomach being upset. He STILL has to go and compete tonight in a match that HE calls the biggest in his 4CW career. Pulling her back in, he takes a deep breath and lifts her up by her armpits. She wraps her legs around him and hugs on him tightly.

CASHE: ”I’m sorry. I love you too so we will have to fight sometimes. That’s what you do with shit you love. Like this business and you’re my business now. I’m your business. Sun and the Moon. We’ll be alright.. I promise.”

The rumblings of his stomach fills the bathroom again. Suddenly Cashe is clenching because he could feel his insides wanting to come out. Not sure if it’s farts or the start of another round, he lowers her to her feet. Looking down at his stomach, she comments on it.

MARQUIS: ”That sounded like a fucking animal.”

CASHE: “You should smell it.”

MARQUIS: ”As wonderful as that might sound, Ino thank you.! I’m going to grab a shower and then hit up catering. You going to be okay by the Main Event? Do you want me to get you a cork? Or can you handle it?”

Shrugging he hesitates, but nods “yes” because what other answer should there be?

CASHE: ”I’m not letting a little Booty Nuke Dook stop me tonight! I want to be in the conversation and to do that, I need to win. Simple as that. Then I am heading back to Japan.”

MARQUIS: ”Oh, that’s right. I fucking forgot about that? I have to start packing for that and figure out if I’m taking Ruthless or not. Also, we gotta sneak snacks on the plane this time. Want me to g–“

Grabbing at his stomach again, this time it isn’t a false call. Cashe breaks off to the left towards the stalls with mere seconds to spare.

CASHE: ”Might want to hold your breath!”

Turning, Queef hurries for the door.

MARQUIS: ”Bye! Love you!”

She’s gone before he could respond, but he isn’t trying to speak other than in grunts as the splashing begins for the second time of the night.

HEADLINE
SHOWCASE MATCH
FELICITY BANKS VS. BRYAN WILLIAMS

VASSA: ”Alright folks, the moment you have all been waiting for!”

JOHNSON: ”You could literally say that about any match on this entire lineup tonight.”

VASSA: ”I’m talking about Felicity Banks returning to a 4CW ring. Keep up.”

JOHNSON: ”It is a pretty big deal. The fans have missed her since her departure over a year ago.”

VASSA: ”The wait can finally come to an end because she returns tonight people!”

“You FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!”

“Malevolence” by New Years Day fills the arena speakers, the crowd greeting the worldwide wrestling star a with a thunderous mixed reaction.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”

The lights in the arena dimmer down and a gold sparklers fall onto the entrance ramp as the audience waits in anticipation. The arena lights fade away until the only sources of light are the titantron and the pyro.

“Nothing’s gonna save meeeee!

The evil that I see! Has taken over mee!

No one’s gonna save meeeeee!

The damage has been done! I’m writing all the wrongs!”

The lyrics to Felicity’s theme song echo throughout the arena as the Supreme comes out onto the stage with a smug smile on her face, the crowd nearly blowing the roof off the arena with cheers and jeers! Felicity makes her way through the golden sparklers, her arms extended to her sides and a Blowpop in her mouth. She pulls the blowpop out of her mouth as she slowly paces down the ramp, turning her back to show the camera the “Supreme” writing on the back of her sweatshirt. Once halfway down the ramp, Felicity glances at the fans at ringside and smirks once she sees some of them booing her; others bowing.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Jersey City, New Jersey, standing in at tall enough to whoop your ass! She is the only female 4CW Champion in company history… ‘The Supreeeeemaaah’… FELICITY BBAANNKKSS!!!”

Felicity has a short exchange with the booing fans then walks up the steps. She continues pushing forward until she reaches the middle of the apron, turning around to soak in the energy from the crowd. She enters the ring and spins around in circles until the lights in the arena begin getting brighter, not stopping until the arena was fully lit. Felicity unzips her sweatshirt, walks toward the nearest corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle. She stares out at the thousands of bowing and booing fans, a smirk coming over her face as she glances back at the other side of the arena. She hops off the ropes and turns around, sliding her back down against the corner until she was fully seated on the mat. Finally, she jerks her neck from side to side and patiently waits for go-time.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The strong backing sound of the drums fills the arena, as “Lions Below” begins to play. With the song beginning it’s melodic tune, the crowd cheers for the arrival of Bryan Williams. The song quickly kicks in, the backing sample playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song, the crowd quickly gets into the song as they wait for Bryan’s arrival. The song continues to play for a few more moments, the beat settling out into a flat section.

“Glad you’re gone

You’ll never hear me say

That I’ll need you here to watch me

Watch me walk away…”

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

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

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

JOHNSON: ”There he is, Bryan Williams with the Pride Championship back in his possession.”

VASSA: ”He and Matthias Barrows were at each others throats for months. After losing the championship to him at All Or Nothing, Bryan stepped up to the plate and knocked it out of the park at South Beach Brawl.”

JOHNSON: ”He is now a two time Pride Champion, something that has never been accomplished before him.”

VASSA: ”That just means he lost it once before.”

JOHNSON: ”Several people have, but how many have went back for a rematch and recaptured it?”

VASSA: ”Good point.”

JOHNSON: ”So coming off a hot win, Bryan isn’t taking any breaks as he will face off tonight against a former 4CW Champion and returning star, Felicity Banks.”

VASSA: ”I still don’t understand why this match isn’t the main event tonight. We’ve seen these qualifying matches for Ante Up before, but we’ve never seen this match right here on the one hundredth event!”

JOHNSON: ”Despite her history, Felicity can somewhat be considered new in her return to 4CW. The landscape is entirely different than when she was here last.”

VASSA: ”It’s extremely different. The talent pool is deeper and the stage is bigger.”

JOHNSON: ”The stage here tonight is gigantic considering the circumstances.”

VASSA: ”The whole wrestling world is turning into this match right now. It’s all eyes on us!”

As both wrestlers stand in their corners, the official slowly steps into the center of the ring, calling for everyone’s attention. First, he looks to Felicity in her corner, quickly getting the okay from her as she’s eager to get her return to 4CW underway. Turning to Bryan second, the official quickly receives a nod from the Pride Champion. With both wrestlers ready to get things started, the official wastes no more time and quickly calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

The crowd ignites at the sound of the bell. Exiting their corners, Banks and Williams quickly approach the center of the ring before circling one another. Shooting in first, Williams goes for a single leg takedown but comes up short as Banks quickly hops backwards, creating some distance between the two. As he pushes himself back up, he leaves his face exposed as Banks moves in and kicks him right across it. Pulling Williams back to his feet, Banks hits him across the chest with a pair of knife-edge chops before latching onto his wrist and whipping him to the ropes. Hitting the ropes and rebounding off, Williams runs into a high knee strike to the face as Felicity charges at him, knocking him to his back.

Bouncing off the mat, Williams pops back up to his feet and into a flurry of kicks and punches as Felicity closes in on him. Backing him across the ring, she strikes from all angles, catching Bryan off guard with each one as they flow with no distinct pattern. Backing Williams against the ropes, she continues the attack before spinning around and catching him with a roundhouse kick that flips him over the top rope. Grabbing onto the top rope, Williams uses it to guide himself as he lands his feet onto the apron. Banks quickly rushes towards him but as she does, Bryan ducks down and pulls his upper body through the ropes, planting his shoulder into her stomach.

Standing tall and reaching over the rope, Bryan pulls Banks in before driving his knee through the ropes and into her stomach. Wrapping his arm around her head, Bryan then grabs the back of her pants waistband before lifting her up into the air and over the top rope. Falling backwards and landing onto the apron, Bryan drops Banks down to the floor with a suplex.

VASSA: ”Holy shit she fell from quite a distance.”

JOHNSON: ”Felicity went straight to work at the sound of the bell not giving him much chance to fight back. All he needed was a small window of opportunity and he made sure to bank on it, no pun intended.”

With Banks on the outside, the official begins the ten count while Williams slowly pulls himself up on the apron.

“One! … Two!”

Looking over his shoulder, Williams notices Banks slowly climbing to her feet.

“Three! … Four!”

Climbing back through the ropes, Williams looks to the outside once more where Banks pushes herself up to one knee.

“Five! … Six!”

Running across the ring, Williams hits the opposite ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, Banks finally stands tall.

“Seven! … Eight!”

Leaping forward, Williams dives through the ropes and once clearing them, he flips through the air and plows into Banks with a Tope con Hilo. As Banks falls backwards to the floor, Williams rolls over her as he abruptly comes to a stop with his feet crashing into the ringside barricade.

JOHNSON: ”Bryan is pulling out the big guns here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Of course he is. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and it’s either go big or go home.”

JOHNSON: ”I couldn’t have said it better myself, Vinny.”

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

“One! … Two!”

Using the barricade for assistance, Williams slowly pulls himself up as the fans in the front row go nuts with the action within a few feet from their eyes. He then pulls Banks up to her feet, her giving him no resistance after receiving the impact of their collision.

“Three! … Four!”

Williams lifts her onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry but immediately, Banks slips out of his hold and drops down behind him. Grabbing ahold of his from behind, she lifts him into the air and drops him crotch first onto the top of the barricade. With his legs hanging on both sides of the barricade, Williams holds his crotch as his face turns bright red.

“Five! … Six!”

Falling over to his side, Williams crashes to the floor as Banks looks on with a smirk across her face.

“Seven!”

Pulling Bryan up from the floor, Felicity then walks him over to the side of the ring before rolling him back in underneath the bottom rope.

“Eight!”

Turning back to the fans, Felicity gives those few directly in front of her a wave before turning back to the action and rolling into the ring herself.

VASSA: ”Back to the ring we go after some high impact moves at ringside.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m surprised Felicity was able to counter Williams after being on the receiving end of that high flying move.”

VASSA: ”Maybe in a few days Bryan’s nuts will drop after getting knocked back inside of him.”

Crawling across the ring, Williams goes the opposite direction from Banks as he pushes himself up to his feet. Standing back, she looks on with her arms crossed. Turning to face Banks, Williams wipes the hair from out of his face before getting into stance and slowly approaching her. Circling the ring, the two look each other up and down and after a full revolution, they lunge towards one another, locking up. Pulling Banks head down against his body, Williams gets her in a side headlock before twisting his body and flipping her over him and down to her back.

With the side headlock still somewhat in tact, Williams begins pounding away at her head with his free hand. Standing up, he pulls her up as well before wrapping her up and throwing her over his head with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Banks hits the mat and rolls up to a seated position as Williams quickly pops back up to his feet. Moving in, he delivers a stinging kick to her back, forcing a howling sigh to escape her mouth from the intense pain shooting up her spine. He then pulls her up to her feet before turning her around and hitting her square in the mouth with a solid forearm shot.

Backing her against the ropes, Bryan pushes her against them before pulling her away and using them to thrust her forward as he whips her across the ring. As she returns on the rebound, Williams rushes in and meets her in the center of the ring, lifting her off her feet and into fireman’s carry that this time she doesn’t escape. In the blink of an eye, he then drops her to the canvas with a neckbreaker that rattles the entire ring. Crawling over Felicity, Bryan hooks her leg for the pin as the official races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Felicity kicks out just at the two!”

VASSA: ”Luckily for her she doesn’t need her neck to kick out from a pin attempt.”

JOHNSON: ”She’s going to feel it in the morning though.”

Without delay, Bryan stands to his feet over Felicity. Noticing her arm stretched across the mat, he quickly focuses on it, kicking and stomping down onto it rapidly. Kicking her, he forces her to roll over to her stomach before stepping over her with a leg on each of her sides. Squatting, he pries his arms underneath her body as he wraps her up tightly. Showing off his strength, Williams then deadlifts her up from the canvas before going for a German suplex. As Banks reaches her highest point, she slips out of his hold and rolls backwards, landing on her feet as Bryan hits the mat empty handed. Bryan quickly rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself to all fours. He then quickly stands tall but as he does, Banks jumps right in front of him, wrapping up his head and driving it into the canvas with a jumping DDT!

VASSA: ”Space Jam DDT!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not sure she refers to it as that anymore but I’m surprised you actually remembered.”

VASSA: ”You just don’t give me enough credit is all.”

Williams quickly rolls over to his back, holding both hands over his face as the effects begins to sink in from that DDT. Back on her feet, Banks quickly drops down beside his head, grabbing onto it with both hands. Holding it in place, she begins driving her knee into his face repeatedly. Knocking his hands away after a few strikes, she then begins actually hitting his face with the rapid knee strikes. Standing back up, she quickly turns the opposite direction before jumping into the air with a backflip and landing across his body with a standing moonsault. With Bryan covered, the official quickly slides in beside them for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Popping his shoulder up from the canvas, Bryan breaks up the pin. A look of surprise comes across her face as Felicity pushes herself up. Pacing the ring, she quickly goes back to work, moving in and kicking him in the ribcage. She then grabs onto his head and rolls him over to his stomach before pulling him up from the mat. Out of nowhere, Bryan grabs her by the back of both heels, pulling her legs out from under and dropping her to her back. With her right leg elevated, Bryan releases her left before twisting around and dropping down with an elbow to the inside of her knee. With his weight on her thigh, he bends her knee awkwardly, applying pressure to it momentarily as she sighs in pain.

Releasing the hold, Bryan rises to his feet and pulls her up without hesitation. He then whips her to the ropes and as she comes back, he goes for a clothesline but swings and misses as she ducks underneath. Leaping forward, she plants both feet onto the middle rope before springboarding off. Flying through the air, she closes in on Bryan just as he turns to face her, wrapping her arm over his face and dropping him to the mat with a springboard reverse DDT. With Bryan on his back laid out, Banks rolls over and makes the cover as the official races over.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Kickout!”

VASSA: ”DDT Central in this bitch tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”Felicity has hit him with two big ones but Bryan refuses to stay down for the count.”

Just as before, Felicity looks down at Bryan in shock at the fact he kicked out before a full two count after two high impact DDT’s. Wasting no time, she stands up and circles Bryan for a moment before pulling him up to his feet. Dragging him to the corner, she keeps her back facing it as she pulls Bryan in and wraps him up high. With all of her strength, she pulls him forward as she goes for an STO into the corner but as Bryan closes into the turnbuckle, he extends both arms and plants them onto the ropes, stopping his forward movement. Hanging onto Bryan, Felicity now has herself backed in the corner with nowhere to go as Bryan pulls his hand away from the rope and drives an elbow down into her face.

Felicity drops down to a seated position with her head inches away from the middle turnbuckle. Taking a few steps back, Bryan then moves in forward and delivers a superkick to her face, slamming the back of her head against the padding. He then pulls her back up and drags her to the center of the ring. Pushing Bryan away, Felicity is able to back up a few steps but not nearly enough as Bryan moves in quickly and delivers a superkick underneath her chin. He then hops back before delivering a superkick to the inside of her knee, forcing her to drop down to both. Taking a few short steps backwards, Bryan then moves in and delivers a final blow, a superkick to her face!

Felicity refuses to go down as she wobbles back and forth. Lifting one leg up and planting her foot onto the mat, she goes to stand before Bryan moves in once again. Rushing in, Bryan steps up onto her elevated knee and levels her with a shining wizard. Felicity rolls across the ring and underneath the bottom rope. Back on his feet, Bryan races over and begins kicking her, forcing her to roll out onto the apron. Taking a few steps back, he looks on as she slowly begins to pull herself up with the ropes. Leaning over the middle rope, Felicity comes to a stop as she takes a moment to catch her breath. Her head sticks out to the other side of the ropes, inside of the ring. Seeing an opportunity, Bryan quickly climbs the nearby corner. He makes it to the top before extending his arms and playing to the crowd for a short moment. The noise level goes completely silent as he leaps from the top of the corner. As gravity takes hold and pulls him down, he hits Felicity with a guillotine leg drop over the back of the head, flipping her over the middle rope completely and back into the ring. Instantly the entire arena erupts at the sight.

VASSA: ”HOLY HELL!!!”

JOHNSON: ”He nearly took her head off with that leg drop over the middle rope.”

VASSA: ”It doesn’t get any better than this!”

Rolling to her back, Felicity is now laid out and looking up at the lights. Crawling over, Bryan then makes the cover as the official quickly begins the count following.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

JOHNSON: ”THRE–“

VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”WHAT?!”

VASSA: ”Felicity was able to get her foot on the bottom rope!”

JOHNSON: ”In just the niche of time.”

Rolling over to his back, Bryan takes a short moment to look up to the lights and catch his breath, regaining his focus as the kickout from Felicity not only shocked everyone in the crowd but him as well. Slamming his fists against the mat, Bryan then pushes himself up back to his feet. Grabbing onto Banks, he drags her away from the ropes before pulling her up. Keeping her head pressed down and body buckled over, he gives her two quick knees to the gut before wrapping his arm around her head. Grabbing onto the back of her waistband, he takes a few short moments to fill his lungs as the entire arena rises to their feet, at least those who weren’t standing before.

JOHNSON: ”I think we all know what’s coming next and he has her in the right spot to pull it off.”

VASSA: ”If he would have went for that pinfall just now in that exact spot this match would be over with.”

Bursting with energy and driving his feet into the canvas, Bryan lifts Felicity off her feet and into the air upside down.

JOHNSON: ”here comes the CTE folks.”

Slipping out of Bryan’s grip, Felicity drops down to her feet behind him. Reaching around him, she locks onto his wrist before pulling it and whipping him around to face her. Jumping into the air with the wristlock still in tact, she hits him in the face with a jumping high knee, dropping him to both knees. Still locked onto his wrist, she then rips him forward and jerks her knee into his face, leveling him once and for all.

VASSA: ”Holy-fucking-shit!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s the Sasorikiru, something new since her last time in 4CW.”

VASSA: ”The Sasorwhat?”

JOHNSON: ”We’ll teach you how to say this later, she’s going for the pin!”

Crawling over Bryan, Felicity hooks his leg as she rolls across him.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”This one’s in the books folks!”

JOHNSON: ”After a hard fought battle in her return to 4CW, Felicity Banks has done it ladies and gentlemen.”

“Malevolence” hits the speakers as the entire building begins rumbling from the roaring crowd in attendance. Slowly rising to her feet, Felicity looks over the crowd as it brings a smile to her face. Stepping in beside her, the official then raises her arm into the air and in turn, the noise level grows even higher.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, FELICITY BBAANNKKSS!!!”

Pulling her arm away from the official, she keeps it held high as she walks along the edge of the ropes, looking over the Oakland crowd. Stopping in front of the corner, she then pulls herself up to the middle ropes, overlooking the sold out crowd.

JOHNSON: ”So… this is a pretty big win for Felicity in her return wouldn’t you say?”

VASSA: ”This is a huge win for her comeback and even though Bryan didn’t get the W, he can still walk away from this match with his head held high.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s nothing for him to be ashamed of following this great match these two put on display for us here tonight. He gave it his all and damn near put away the former 4CW Champion for the three count.”

VASSA: ”That he did. Unfortunately for him the ropes were within distance and she was able to break up the pin just before the officials hand slapped the mat.”

JOHNSON: ”So what does this mean for Felicity moving forward in 4CW?”

VASSA: ”Your guess is as good as mine but I hope it’s something long term because god damn son, she is a beauty to look at and a thrill to watch compete within those ropes!”

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

*BEEP!*

Yet again backstage, Gabriel Hartman makes his way through the multitude of people watching the Pong game between DA #TROLL GUY Mariano Fernandez, and the Midnight King Nirvana. Cheers of “PRO-BLEM! PRO-BLEM! PRO-BLEM!” and “LET’S GO NURVY! LET’S GO NURVY! LET’S GO NURVY!” erupting from all around.

HARTMAN: ”COMIN’ THROUGH, MAKE WAY!”

He finally reaches the two men, completely focused on the intense going back and forth of the pixel between their two paddles at a break-neck speed… at least for the processing power of an Atari 2600, anyway. The scoreboard is at a standstill.

MANNY: 10

NIRVANA: 10

HARTMAN: ”Steve, Vinny, it looks like this will be the FINAL point! The winner of this SPECTACULAR BOUT BETWEEN THESE TWO BATTLE-HARDENED WARRIORS will soon be decided!”

FERNANDEZ: ”SHUT THE–“

NIRVANA: ”FUCK UP HARTMAN!!!”

HARTMAN: ”Oops.”

FERNANDEZ: ”WE’RE TRYING TO PLAY HERE GOD DAMNIT!”

NIRVANA: ”You may be trying to play, but I’m trying to WIN!”

FERNANDEZ: ”Give me a goddamned break, mang!”

NIRVANA: ”Hey, is that Paige behind you?”

FERNANDEZ: ”I ain’t falling for THAT shit again!”

NIRVANA: ”Too bad.”

JOHNSON: ”And we certainly have some mind games going on in the intensity of this battle…”

VASSA: ”GOD DAMNIT STEVE, IT’S ONLY A FUCKING VIDEOGAME!”

JOHNSON: ”Actually that’s the FIRST videogame ever made, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”I don’t give a shit! It’s a fucking waste of time and that fucking troll Manny HAS A FUCKING TITLE OPPORTUNITY MATCH TONIGHT!”

JOHNSON: ”You think Manny doesn’t know? He’s proven at South Beach Brawl that he’s more than capable of handling himself when things get serious!”

VASSA: ”And here we have him playing a fucking VIDEOGAME just minutes before the main event!”

*RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR!!!*

NIRVANA: ”WHAT THE FUCK?!”

FERNANDEZ: ”WHAT THE FUCK?!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s Salsa Bear-De!”

VASSA: ”First she takes out Manny’s girlfriend, now the man himself!”

At that point, Salsa Bear-De emerges from the corner, swinging her paws wildly in an apparent rampage! As the crowd scrambles running for their lives, one swipe from the First Ever Professional Wrestling Grizzly Bear connects with the old television set and the Atari, their power cables jerking off the wall, the highly competitive and entertaining Pong match-up coming to an abrupt, unfulfilling end. With Salsa Bear-De wreaking havoc behind them, Mariano and Nirvana look angrily in the direction of the running crowd.

NIRVANA: ”Okay, which one of you FUCK–“

FERNANDEZ: ”MILK-DRINKERS–“

NIRVANA: ”pissed off Salsa–“

FERNANDEZ: ”that goddamned bear!”

They turn towards each other, throwing their hands in a shrug.

NIRVANA: ”God DAMN IT, I ALMOST had you on that one!”

FERNANDEZ: ”No the HELL you didn’t, mang! That ball was going straight on your side! For the love of Talos, now we have to start this shit all over again.”

But just right then, Mariano’s music starts to play on stage…

FERNANDEZ: ”God DAMN IT, mang, and NOW I have to go.”

NIRVANA: ”Better luck on your match than you had here. Come on, Salsa. We have to ditch town for a few days. Animal control is coming.”

FERNANDEZ: ”Fuck outta here with that shit, chico, we’ll do this another time!”

MAIN EVENT
ANTE UP 4CW CHAMPIONSHIP QUALIFIER
JASON CASHE VS. MATTHIAS BARROWS VS.
MARIANO FERNANDEZ VS. KEATON SAINT

POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for a spot in the Fatal Fourway Iron Man Match at Ante Up for the 4CW Championship!!”

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

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

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

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

Dropping down, he hesitates as soon as his feet hit the mat, his knees coming together and his face contorting as he clearly clenches his ass cheeks trying to stop himself from shitting his own pants.

VASSA: ”There he is, ladies and gentlemen. The face of 4CW. The man who has held the 4CW Championship more than anyone else, and has defended it more than anyone else.”

JOHNSON: ”Now… when you say defense do you mean an actual defense where he retained the title? Or do you mean a match where he was the champion heading into it and it was on the line?”

VASSA: ”Well duh. What kind of idiot thinks that just being in the match makes it a defense? If you don’t retain you haven’t defended anything.”

JOHNSON: ”Our fearless owner seems to disagree. As does Genie Carlson.”

VASSA: ”Literally two of the dumbest people to ever have walked the face of the planet.”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe. Or maybe they have a valid point. It seems to me that it’s a title defense either way. If you win it’s a successful defense. If you lose it’s an unsuccessful defense.”

VASSA: ”Exactly. If you’re unsuccessful at something you didn’t do it. You tried to do it but you failed. Yoda said either do or do not, there is no try.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not sold on that, Vinny.”

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

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

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

VASSA: ”Barrows had a difficult go of things at South Beach Brawl. But to be honest it seemed like that match was his to lose.”

JOHNSON: ”The tides really turned on Matthias when Stacy and Gary were ordered backstage. Yet here they are again, this time for a match that would provide Barrows with the biggest opportunity of his career if he was to win it. You have to think that Stacy and Gary might find a way to swing the tide in his favor once more.”

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

problem?

“Many folks they never heard of me

So i’ma introduce myself by using some hyperboles

I am that voice that talks a ton but no one chatters back

They rather act like blatters act and spaz on rappers, matter fact”

POWERS: ”And now, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds! From Buenos Aires, Argentina, by way of Miami, Florida… “THE GADFLY”… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”

“… Waiting for the day I’ll get the silence I deserve

So I ain’t talking oxen when I say, I just want to be heard!”

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.

“It seems like everywhere I gooooooooo

Everybody, they’re trying to steal the shoooooooow

(AHA!) So I’m here with my plan

I got to let’em hear who I am!”

Once he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he raises his fist to the air, receiving a HUGE crowd pop!

“I wanna show that NOW’S MY TIME, TODAY’S MY DAY!

TO MAKE ‘EM SAY DAG ‘CAUSE I’M GETTIN’ MY WAY!

IT’S MY TIME TO SHINE AND IT’S OKAY-YAY-YAY-YAY!”

As the music and the lights come back to normal, Mariano grabs the microphone from Mike Powers.

FERNANDEZ: ”FUS RO DAH!!!”

VASSA: ”You’ve gotta love the change in attitude lately from Mariano.”

JOHNSON: ”He certainly seems more focused.”

VASSA: ”You can’t deny he has the spirit of a warrior, willing to fight anyone and everyone regardless of what critics and analysts might say his chances are..”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t think that anyone is putting money on Manny to win this match. I think he might just stun the world, though.”

”In the end you’ll know my name”

The arena lights begin to flash in tune with the drumbeat of “King” by Saint PHNX, signifying the arrival of Keaton Saint who makes his presence felt at the top of the ramp. Saint looks out to the arena crowd, taking in the atmosphere before concentrating on the ring.

”I just want to scream

That nothing’s what it seems

I’ll just keep believing

One day I’ll be king

Say it loud enough

I ain’t going nowhere

You can’t break me down

One day I’ll be king”

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

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

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

VASSA: ”Saint seems to be the odd man out in this match. He’s got all the talent in the world but you have to wonder if this stage might be too big for him.”

JOHNSON: ”Love seeing the newer roster members get big opportunities like this. Maybe the stage will be too big for him but let’s let him test the waters and get his legs under him before we make any judgments.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The referee, having gone through the usual pre match rituals of explaining the rules and checking for foreign objects, signalled for the bell and immediately the match was under way. Barrows and Cashe pair off early on, trading blows back and forth with neither really gaining an advantage. Meanwhile, Mariano directs his attention to Keaton Saint. The two exchange strikes briefly before Manny brings his knee up into the stomach of his opponent, backing him up into the nearby corner. He then lines up and unleashes a chop to Saint’s chest, following it up quickly with a stiff right hand.

A few feet away Barrows and Cashe have managed to tie one another up and are using their strength and weight to try to gain an advantage over the other. Barrows manages to work Cashe into the corner opposite of Mariano and Keaton. The former pride champion delivers a boot to Cashe’s midsection which causes his eyes to light up in panic. Barrows then straightens him with a chop to the chest before Cashe reaches out and grabs him by the ears and then leans forward and bites him squarely on the nose just as the referee looks the other way to make sure no shenanigans are going on between the other two wrestlers. Matthias manages to pry himself away after a moment, with Stacy and Gary shouting their outrage at Cashe outside the ring. Paying little attention to them, Cashe takes hold of Matthias and spins out of the corner, slamming Barrows into the turnbuckle pads instead.

Across the ring, Mariano is working Keaton Saint over pretty well. As the camera’s snap back to the pair, Fernandez is stepping down off of the middle rope where he had just gotten done delivering ten consecutive strikes as that side of the arena counted along. Manny, grabbing onto Keaton’s wrist, whips his opponent across the ring full speed. Saint doesn’t slow down as he runs into the back of Jason Cashe, squashing him between the two men. Panicked, but not for the obvious reason, Cashe reaches back and covers the fabric that was hovering over where his asshole would be.

VASSA: ”Cashe with a little dirty work to get the advantage over Barrows. And Manny looking strong early on.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not so much worried about that. Cashe clearly has something wrong with his intestines. You don’t think he’d actually shit himself, do you?”

Wasting no time as the three men are piled up in the corner, Mariano charges across the ring and leaps into the air, body splashing himself across the back of Keaton Saint and, in turn, squashing the other two men as well. As soon as the maneuver hits a horrified shriek escapes the mouth of the troubled one. Yes, the narrator of this match knows that Cashe likes for that to be spelled a different way but truth be told he’s too lazy to go back and look to find out how exactly it should be spelled. Besides, there’s much more exciting action going on in the middle of the 4CW ring.

Saint collapses to the mat, clearly in a daze, while Cashe can’t figure out whether he should protect himself or find a toilet. From behind Manny wastes no time stepping up and cracking him across the back of the head with an enziguri that sends Cashe tumbling through the ropes. He manages to hang on and catch himself so that he doesn’t fall all the way down outside the ring and instead takes a moment to catch his breath on the ring apron. As Mariano climbed back to his feet to turn his attention to his third opponent, Barrows found it within himself to get a second wind and fired out of the corner nearly taking Da Troll Guy’s head off with a clothesline.

Immediately Barrows pulled Manny back up to his feet and discarded him out of the ring, down to the floor outside. Without hesitation he then turned and dropped down to his knees, hooking the leg of Keaton Saint, trying to steal a win early on.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Cashe, from the ring apron, stepped through the top and middle ropes in an effort to break the pinfall attempt up. As he did so his foot caught on the middle rope and tripped him up. It was only through sheer dumb luck that he tumbled awkwardly into the referee, breaking the count. The impact caused Cashe’s stomach to gurgle and, with his ass just a few uncomfortable inches away from the face of Barrows, let loose the wettest fart right into the face of the former pride champion. Horror rippled across the faces of both men as Barrows face contorted in disgust. At the same time Cashe shoved his hand down the back of his pants and pulled it out, checking to see if he had shit himself and heaving a sigh of relief when his hand came back clean.

VASSA: ”Ugh that’s just disgusting..”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve seen a lot of things in my time on commentary, Vinny. Especially in matches that Jason Cashe is involved in. But I’ve never seen anything like that.”

VASSA: ”Haha Barrows is puking outside the ring!”

JOHNSON: ”The man wanting to shoot blood in the eye of everyone just got an eye full of wet fart. I’d call that karma.”

In ring, Keaton slowly works his way back to his feet while Mariano recovers outside of the ring. Hanging half out of the ring over the bottom rope at the far corner is Matthias Barrows wretching and vomiting down onto the floor as Stacy and Gary do their best to get his mind off the horror that he had just endured first hand. Elated that he still hasn’t shit himself, Cashe turns back to face the only man left in the ring and catches a stiff dropkick that knocks him back into the ropes. For a moment it looks as though he’s going to spring back in Saint’s direction but instead he pauses, clutching his stomach and shaking his head no. For a moment he considers his choices before waving his hands at his opponent and the referee, ducking out of the ring down to the outside.

VASSA: ”Where does he think he’s going ?!”

JOHNSON: ”If I had to guess he’s probably looking for a quiet corner with some Charmin extra soft.”

Whether that was the case or not now that Manny has fully recovered outside the ring he’s having none of that. Running at Cashe, he wraps his arms around Jason’s waist and squeezes roughly, trying to force the air out of his lungs with a bear hug. The sound of another loud fart ripping through the air, as well as disgusted expressions on the faces of those in the nearby front row, should have been warning enough for Mariano. Instead the self proclaimed Nord warrior squeezes him violently once more before rolling him into the ring.

Barrows, on the opposite side of the ring, has managed to get his vomiting under control and returned to a standing position. He and Keaton Saint are exchanging strikes back and forth with Keaton Saint gaining the advantage momentarily. Just as he works Barrows back into the corner, however, Matthias wraps his arms around Saint and lifts him up into the air, driving him down into the mat with a nasty spinebuster. Again, he is quick to go for the cover but Manny slides into the ring quickly and dashes across it, slamming his feet directly into Barrows jaw with a low dropkick. As he does so the back of Da Troll Guy’s head awkwardly bounces off the mat.

VASSA: ”That had to hurt”

JOHNSON: ”What gave you that impression, Vinny?”

Mariano pushes up to a knee, groggy from the action that had transpired. Jason Cashe rushes in as Manny rises to his feet but Cashe strikes. Leaping up and hooking in a Guillotine Choke as he wraps his legs around Mariano. The fans slowly start to rise in response as Vassa begins to laugh.

VASSA: ”That is the Finisher of Manny’s girlfriend, Paige Matthews! Haha! She calls it Marines Pain! HAHAHAHA!!!”

JOHNSON: ”You have to believe Cashe did this on purpose. He LOVES to take little jabs and drags at people and this is no different. He does have it locked in tight though!”

VASSA: ”How funny would it be if Manny tapped to his girlfriend’s Finisher? Cashe was a TapOut Champion in APW but he is the LAST guy you’d think would use a submission!”

Barrows is down! Keaton Saint is down! And Mariano Fernandez is trapped in a guillotine choke that Cashe has applied right in the center of the ring. Fans around the arena explode, the idea of this 4CW legend being in the main event of Ante Up sending them into a frenzy. Trying to lock it in deeper, Cashe flexes and applies more pressure to the hold. Just when it looks like Mariano is about to tap, the flood gates break loose. Literally.

VASSA: ”Oh my god. OH MY GOD!”

JOHNSON: ”Did that… did it really just happen?!”

Keaton Saint, having recovered enough, dives across the ring and slams into the two men and as he does so brown sludge squirts out from underneath the backside of Jason Cashe. Yes, that’s right, in the middle of a 4CW ring on national television, Jason Cashe has just shit himself. And not just a little turd but a full on booty drip explosion has erupted. Needless to say the submission hold is broken and as Cashe stands up and reaches behind himself, his hands come into contact with the warm wet waste that his stomach just unleashed upon the world.

As he pulled his hands from behind him and spun, the camera catches a glimpse of his shit stained back. Smeared across the mat is his liquified shit that somehow seems to have covered over a third of the ring. Manny, recovering from the choke hold, doesn’t even recognize that he’s got both hands planted firmly in the ocean of liquid shit.

VASSA: ”I’m going to be sick.”

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

Barrows, taking in the scene briefly, takes a deep breath before launching himself at the shitty mess that is Jason Cashe. A flying forearm smashes into Cashe’s jaw, knocking him down to the mat. In one fluid motion, Barrows pushed himself back up to his feet, slipped for a moment as his foot slid through the pool of Cashe’s diarrhea, and then lifted Keaton Saint up into the air and drove him down to the mat. Continuing the fluidity and not even thinking about the mess for a second, Barrows wrapped Saint’s legs up into a sharpshooter position and rolled him over, with Keatons face pressing down into the brown sludge. Reaching back, Barrows grabbed onto Keaton’s arm, locking in his unique submission hold.

VASSA: ”*dry heaving noises*”

JOHNSON: ”Barrows calls that the Palomar Knot and I’m guessing Keaton Saint wishes he was anywhere but there right now.”

Before Saint can tap, Manny charges and drives a knee into Barrows back, breaking up the submission hold before grabbing onto Barrows as Keaton Saint rolled out of the ring hopefully in search of some kind of sanitizer. Immediately, Fernandez lifts Barrows up into a vertical suplex position and then drives him down into the pool of shit with a vertical suplex piledriver.

VASSA: ”*wretches miserably*”

JOHNSON: ”THAT’S THE MESSIEST DOVAKHIIN DRIVER I’VE EVER SEEN!”

Before Manny can make the pinfall, Cashe recovers and leaps to his feet, charging across the ring as Manny turns, stepping right into the shitty grip of Jason Cashe, who lifts him up, spins, and drives him down into the pile of shit that Matthias Barrows had just rolled over out. The pop up, sit down spinebuster Cashe calls the tRoUbLe Maker lands flush, liquid poo splashing everywhere, out of the ring and into the front row of fans. Quickly, Cashe transitions into a pinfall attempt.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

VASSA: ”*vomiting noises*”

JOHNSON: ”Oh for Christ’s sake Vinny stop being such a baby. Jason Cashe, in literally the dirtiest match this company has ever witnessed, has just earned himself a place in the main event at Ante Up. Someone better tell Bronx Valescence the king of the 4CW Championship just became a challenger to Bronxy’s reign.”

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Standing to his feet, Cashe looks down at the mess smeared across the canvas and even covering his body. Not wanting to get anywhere near him, the official refuses to raise his hand in victory. Surprisingly, Cashe looks at the official with disgust that he won’t even touch him. With a smile on his face, Cashe runs after the official as he darts off and dips through the ropes. Running up the ramp, the official runs for his life as Cashe follows not far behind.

VASSA: ”For a big event like this hundredth show has been, it sure came down to a shitty ending to top things off.”

JOHNSON: ”Literally.”

VASSA: ”But with everything that happened and even the match up until it became a scat film was huge. This was a landmark event for 4CW and I can’t wait until we’re calling the second century event.”

JOHNSON: ”You and me both.”

VASSA: ”I wouldn’t count on that. I don’t think you have that much time left on the clock if I’m being honest.”

JOHNSON: ”You shut your fat face! I’ve had about enough of you and I refuse to sit here and listen to you run your mouth while the stench of Cashe lingers in the air.”

VASSA: ”I’m sorry, Steve! Chill!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m dead serious. It stinks over here. I’m calling it a night.”

VASSA: ”Well, our event has come to a close and we now have our first challenger for the sixty minute fatal fourway iron man match at Ante Up. I think despite what happened in the end, it was a good night.”

JOHNSON: ”It was, but I need some fresh air. I’m cutting it.”

VASSA: ”If you say so.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s been a pleasure folks but the show must come to an end. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head to Denver for Adrenaline Sixty-Six. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night folks!”