OCTANE E03 (107)

CABARRUS ARENA JULY 7TH, 2017 CONCORD, NC

“1000hp” by Godsmack plays through the speakers as the picture opens up to a shot from inside of the ring in the Cabarrus Arena in Concord, North Carolina. Scanning the crowd, the camera zooms in to various signs held throughout the body of people.

DOWN TO
FORGIVE

Q U E E N
CAROLINE

#TR3ND9OD

G A N J A
GODDESS

Changing views to a shot from floor level, pictured ahead is the announcers booth where our trio sit ready to call this evenings episode of Octane! Behind them, the seats are loaded and the building is packed for 4CW’s hottest new show to hit the airwaves.

TAYLOR: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to our third edition of Octane!”

CAMPBELL: ”Once again we come to you live from the Cabarrus Arena in Concord, North Carolina!”

LAWSON: ”We have an exciting night in store for you all as we’ll venture into the third round of the Octane Championship Tournament.”

CAMPBELL: ”We have Amirai Reilley versus Christian Jones, Jeb Fisher versus Bryan Laughlin, and Vossler versus Chanson Webster!”

TAYLOR: ”Six names who have impressed thus far over the course of our first two episodes.”

LAWSON: ”All six have suffered a loss in our double elimination tournament and one more will send them home and out of the tournament to crown our first Octane Champion.”

TAYLOR: ”Caroline Burchill has earned her place in the championship match with two wins and will face either one of these six in weeks to come.”

CAMPBELL: ”Speaking of which, Caroline will be featured in our main event this evening in a triple threat match, taking on Dex Russey and a familiar name in 4CW… Sativa Nevaeh!”

LAWSON: ”She just recently transferred over from Adrenaline, looking for new scene to make her mark. I for one am looking very forward to seeing what Sativa brings to the table here in Octane.”

TAYLOR: ”I’m really digging this main event. It’s time to see how Caroline stacks up against a 4CW veteran and multiple time champion.”

CAMPBELL: ”We also have quite a few new names making their debut here in 4CW and the return of another familiar face who’s made an appearance or two over the last year.”

LAWSON: ”Like I said, looking at the card it appears that we have quite an exciting night in store.”

TAYLOR: ”That we do!”

CAMPBELL: ”Well let’s go backstage momentarily before we just into our opening match, the debut of Octane’s first ever Ten Minutes of Mayhem!”

We cut right to the back of the arena for the Octane cameras to pick up Dex Russey as he was making his way into the venue. He was wearing his street clothes with boots poking out of his backpack. The cameras catch up to him and we see Dex looking back at the camera as he walks.

RUSSEY: ”Welcome to the Dex Russey pre-game show. You see I’ve seen this shit before. You cameras start turning into my shadows cause yous guys wanna see what I’m doing before the match and shit.“

Dex shrugs as he slides past a black Jaguar parked out in the parking venue. He moves quickly as if he’s trying to shake the cameras, however he slows down a bit as he heads up the steps to the dock area.

RUSSEY: ”But that’s fine… You can follow me… Cause I’m taking this thing straight to the promised land… You see Caroline and Sativa they’ve built this thing up on prior history right?“

Dex chuckles a bit as he shakes his head. He pushes through a black double door that puts him in the arena’s catering kitchen. He walks through the white suited cooks. Moving through one after the other with the cameras following his every step. Dex exits out the kitchen and walks the hallways of the arena.

RUSSEY: ”Well guess what. The Dex Code says its about what you do right fucking now… Tonight. I give them a little sample of what “right fucking now” feels like…”

Dex turns and extends his hands out with a big smile on his face. He’s nearing the changing rooms however soaks up as much of this little exclusive time he has with the Octane audience watching from the seats.

RUSSEY: ”You see the way I see it… They didn’t think I could make it this far… I’m already playing with house money… And three way match… Thirty-three and a third percent chance huh?… Let’s see what excuses you guys can come up with after this one.

He turns and heads to the locker with the camera catching him for a few more steps. As dear falls out of sight, the camera slowly cuts and transitions to the next frame of the show.

OPENING MATCH
TEN MINUTES OF MAYHEM
FATAL FOUR-WAY

SETH DANIELS VS. TORNADO DESENCADENADO
VS. KAELAN QUINN VS. DEXTER SEVERIN

“Light’s Out” by Hollywood Undead hits the speakers. Seth Daniels steps out from behind the curtain and looks around at the crowd before focusing on the ring. There’s no flash nor flare, no fancy lights or videos. Clearly, Seth doesn’t need a ton of frills in his parade. He begins his determined walk to the ring.

DRAKE: “Now approaching the ring, from Phoenix Arizona and weighing in this morning at two hundred thirty-two pounds. He is ‘Your Drug Of Choice’… SETH DDAANNIIEELLSS!!!”

Daniels smirks at the mixed reaction he’s receiving from the crowd before he climbs the ring steps and steps between the ropes. He turns around abruptly and climbs the turnbuckle looking out to the crowd. He lifts one fist and incites the crowd into a frenzy. He hops down and cracks his knuckles in anticipation.

DRAKE: “From Metairie, Louisiana, and weighing two hundred thirty-five pounds: TORNADO DDEESSEENNCCAADDEENNAADDOO!!!”

The guitar riff to “Blow Me Away” cues up on the venue’s speakers. Tornado walks out from behind the curtain and does several “chain-breaker” warm ups. Afterwards he bounds back and forth across the stage; encouraging the fans to cheer louder. Tornado then jogs down the ramp, slapping any offered hands. When he reaches the ring apron he rolls inside, pops to his feet, and does a couple of spins around the center of the ring with his arms outstretched. Finally, he takes his right fist and thumps the left side of his chest three times.

The lights of the building go dark, spawning thousands of cell phones to be brought out for lighting.

“Behold the King”

A guitar riff and Lemmy’s voice plays over the P.A. system.

“That King of Kings.”

A golden spotlight shines down on the empty entrance ramp.

“On your knees, dog.”

The riffs continue as a man in a glittering, golden robe enters the spotlight.

“All Hail.”

Dexter Severin stands in the golden spotlight. There is no expression on his bearded face he stands here, looking out over the crowd. As Motorhead’s “King of Kings” kicks off in earnest, Dex makes his way down the aisle, the golden spotlight keeping pace.

DRAKE: ”Coming to the ring at this time, DEXTER SSEEVVEERRIINN!!!”

Upon getting to ringside, he pushes a random ring attendant out of their chair and takes it, along with the ring announcer’s microphone. He climbs into the ring, opens the chair and places it in the middle of the ring, and then sits backwards in it. “King of Kings” ends but the houselights stay off, the golden spotlight illuminating him.

SEVERIN: “Let me take a moment to remind all of you just who the most EXTRE-“

The beginning beat to “Hang me High” begins to play and cuts Severin off as Kaelan Quinn appears from behind the curtain with a cheer to meet the ones coming from the crowd. She stands on the top of the ramp soaking up all the cheers before she begins to speed walk her way down the ramp. Slapping fans hands as she goes.

DRAKE: ”Coming to the ring from Belfast, Northern Ireland, KAELAN QQUUIINNNN!!!”

Kaelan stops at the bottom of the ramp and bounces on her feet before taking off at a run to slide under the ropes. Sliding into the ring and rising up off her knees, flipping her long hair back as she does. Walking to the ropes to lean over them and throw her hands in the air to pose before hopping off as the music fades out and she begins to pace and stretch getting ready for the match.

TAYLOR: ”Ten minutes from now, boys, I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing one beautiful Irish Lass as the first ever winner of this Octane exclusive match stipulation.”

CAMPBELL: ”You’re not allowed to be biased like that! Christ, feminism is ruining this country. Next thing you know you’ll be wanting equal pay with Joe and I.”

LAWSON: ”We’ll see what happens. Tornado himself said that this match doesn’t suit him. It’s a chance for him to make his mark in a match that’s certainly better suited for someone like Dex Severin.”

TAYLOR: ”Kaelan Price has been on a mission to prove herself after Dex Russey snuck out a win with a roll up and a tug of the tights last week. I’m telling you boys, this is her match.”

CAMPBELL: ”WHAT?! She’s basically turned into a DTF account. Training my ass. Maybe for the porn star all star team.”

LAWSON: ”Is nobody going to give Seth Daniels a chance in this match? Anyone? Is it because he said he doesn’t care?”

CAMPBELL: ”I could see an outcome where Seth wins. But that’s only if Kaelan lays on her back outside the ring and lets him pin her for ten minutes. Which, given her history this week, that’s not that far outside of the realm of possibility.”

TAYLOR: ”The time for talk is over now, lads. Ten Minutes of Mayhem begins NOW!”

CAMPBELL: ”Lads… for Christ’s sake Rachel.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match:The match begins quickly with Severin and Desencadenado pairing off as well as Kaelan and Daniels. Severin gets the early advantage, having the microphone still in his hands, blasting Tornado across the head and dropping him to the mat, pummeling him over and over with the microphone. Nearby in the ring Price and Daniels square off with Seth trying to use his wrestling ability and instead eating a stiff kick from the construction cone headed lass from Belfast. As Daniels drops, Kaelan notices Severin, whom she had exchanged words with earlier in the week, and and turns her attention to him, blasting him across the back of the head with a forearm. With Severin face down on the mat, Kaelan quickly turns and locks in the IRISH ROSE! Severin cries out in pain and, perhaps smartly, refuses to fight it and instead taps out, causing the referee to step in and force Kaelan to break the hold before more damage could be done. As Kaelan was applying the hold, Daniels took note of the fact that Tornado was down and losing pretty poor, having a gash opened in his head from the assault with the microphone. Not willing to let opportunity pass him by, Seth covered for a pinfall attempt. As soon as the referee had caused Kaelan to break the hold, the referee dropped to the mat and counted the pinfall attempt. Three seconds later and Daniels had picked up his first fall of the night, bringing him even with Kaelan.

06:54

QUINN: 1

DANIELS: 1

DESENCADENADO: 0

SEVERIN: 0

TAYLOR: ”What did I tell you lads? Kaelan Price with the very first fall in the first ever ten minutes of Mayhem match. GET ‘EM GIRL!”

CAMPBELL: ”Would you… FUCK… stop saying lads! You’re not Irish. You’re from Des Moines.”

LAWSON: ”Opportunistic fall for Daniels there after eating that kick from Price. But probably the best strategy we’ve seen in the early going was Dex tapping out quick to that submission hold. If he’d have fought it his knees really could have suffered some heavy damage.”

TAYLOR: ”Knowing that it’s about collecting as many falls as possible changes the whole strategy these competitors have to employ.”

CAMPBELL: ”And Seth Daniels is going to drag his dick across all of their faces and walk out with the win to be honest.”

LAWSON: ”I think it’s obvious none of us really knows what’s going to happen. This sort of match is uncharted territory for all of us.”

Middle of the Match: Rolling out of the ring, Severin buys himself time to recover as Quinn and Daniels return to attacking one another. Tornado, still recovering from the early assault by Severin, uses the ropes to pull himself up. Outside the ring he spots Severin who is rubbing his knee uncomfortably. Quickly, Tornado moves to the corner and ascends to the top rope before launching himself off of it, diving downwards at Severing with a cross body that connects and slams them both into the security barrier which buckles under the weight of the two stars. Using Tornado’s momentum against him, Severin rolls through and presses Tornado’s shoulders down to the concrete floor. Spotting it from inside the ring, the referee counts and slaps his hand down against the mat three times, giving Severin his first fall and leaving Tornado as the only one who hadn’t yet done so. Kaelan, meanwhile, whips Daniels across the ring. He rebounds off the ropes and sprints at her, thrusting his foot towards her jaw. She barely manages to avoid it, leaning backwards and catching herself with her palms flat, her body bridging and twisting to spin back to her feet as Daniels soared past. Seth caught himself on the ropes and stopped his momentum, grabbing Kaelan by the back of her wrestling tights, sending her sprawling outside of the ring.

03:07

QUINN: 1

DANIELS: 1

SEVERIN: 1

DESENCADENADO: 0

CAMPBELL: ”WHERE’S YOUR BITCH AT NOW RACHEL?!.”

LAWSON: ”Calm down Joe.”

TAYLOR: ”Women have been oppressed and held down and abused by men for centuries. You’re just mad that we’ve finally started fighting back. And Kaelan is going to keep fighting back against the white male privilege and rape culture in this country BY WINNING THIS MATCH YOU CHAUVANISTIC FU-“

LAWSON: ”Whoaaaaa okay Rachels going to take a break. We’re getting down to the end ladies and gentlemen. Just a little over three minutes left!”

End of the Match: Outside the ring it’s chaos. Daniels takes Kaelan and tries to irish whip her into the steel steps but has it reversed on him. Only he manages to step up and scoot himself back into the ring safely. Kaelan quickly follows suit while outside the ring Tornado has recovered from suffering the roll through pinfall to Severin and lines up up for the CYCLONE SMASH, a corkscrew forearm that sends Severin flying and slamming into the ring apron. As he collapsed to the floor outside the ring tornado sensed opportunity. Meanwhile, in the ring, Kaelan is quick to pursue her opponent, trapping his arm and looking for an exploder suplex. Daniels manages to wriggle his way free of it and drop to the ground, pulling Kaelan down with him into a roll up and oh no! Not again! Daniels hooks the tights and uses them for extra leverage. At the exact same time the referee spots Tornado covering the fallen Severin. Shrugging, the referee pounds the mat three times and signals a fall on Kaelan and then pounds it three more times and signals the fall on Severin. Daniels takes the lead in the scoring but Tornado managed to get himself on the board. Frustrated, Kaelan stands and begins to brawl with Daniels some more. Slipping into the ring, Tornado sets his sights on Seth Daniels and rushes at him as he brawls with Kaelan. Instinctively, Daniels whips Kaelan towards Tornado at the last second and leaves her to take the brunt of a shoulder block. Tornado wastes no time locking in on Daniels even after knocking the woman down. In his defense Daniels thrusts a super kick but Tornado ducks under and rebounds off the ropes coming back and connecting with another CYCLONE SMASH, this time on Seth Daniels. Quickly, he covers and as the referee drops and counts the fall just like that Tornado ties things up with Dex.

A little less than thirty seconds remain on the clock as Kaelan climbs back to her feet. Outside the ring Severin has found a chair from underneath and is smiling wickedly, ready to unleash his “extreme” side. Kaelan looks to whip Tornado into the ropes but at the last second he reverses and sends her into them. As she comes to the ropes Severin swings with the chair and blasts her across the face, knocking her down. Quickly, Severin rolls his big body into the ring and looks to swing with the chair at Tornado but instead Tornado dashes at him and launches another CYCLONE SMASH into the chair, bashing it into Severin face and hurting himself. Quickly, Tornado looks up at the clock and sees there’s ten seconds left. Desperately wanting to put the finishing touch on Severin but knowing he can’t after Severin tumbles out of the ring, Tornado drops across the fallen Kaelan Quinn Price as the clock ticks away. With five seconds left the referee drops and counts along with the fans.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

A second later the clock runs out and the bell sounds signaling the end of the match.

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

DRAKE: “Here is your winner… TORNADO DDEESSEENNCCAADDEENNAADDOO!!!”

DESENCADENADO: 3

DANIELS: 2

QUINN: 1

SEVERIN: 1

TAYLOR: ”Just more evidence here lads of men trying to hold women down. It took a chair shot and another cheap roll up with pulling on the tights to keep Kaelan from walking out the winner here. Such a shame.”

CAMPBELL: ”It’s a no holds bar, falls count anywhere do whatever the hell you want to kind of match, Rachel. What the hell did you expect?!.”

LAWSON: ”Whatever any of us expected I imagine what we just witnessed was exactly what Jimmy Walker and Perry Wallace envisioned when piecing this match together. It was ten minutes of non stop, blazing action.”

TAYLOR: ”Yes, congratulations to Tornado Desencadenado who is the only man in that ring who wrestled with any honor. He’s got a bright future ahead of him. I hope the other two get the dick drips.”

CAMPBELL: ”So professional.”

LAWSON: ”I’m sure she’ll find herself and her composure before the next match begins, Chris. Don’t worry she’ll be back to scolding you before long. Ladies and gentlemen we’ll be right back..”

American Tommy walks into the newsroom and is astounded. He looks around the room with a big ole smile on his face. Everything is fully functioning; camera crew is all up and ready to go. The screens behind him are being tested as he walks in. It surprisingly looks like a cable news room and American Tommy can’t believe 4CW did this. Because, well, 4CW. American Tommy runs around the room and stops in the middle with his hands above his head.

TOMMY: “Holy shit, they actually came through. Now this is a newsroom fit for a wizard.”

The executive producer comes up to Tommy, who is still shocked.

KIM: “What do you think?”

American Tommy turns to her and gives her a big kiss on the lips. He proceeds to wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve after, because germs.

TOMMY: “This, is fit for king, mate!”

Kim begins walking and motions for Tommy to follow. She brings Tommy to the desk and Tommy runs his hands across it. A little dust is on his finger, which Kim motions for stage hands to clean the desk again. They do, because that’s their fucking job. Tommy sits down in his chair.

KIM: “We even got you the vibrating chair.”

She presses the on button on the controller and American Tommy immediately melts into the chair.

TOMMY: “You did good, Kim. I didn’t think you could get this done. This chair, amazing. Gonna bring dates in here. When I ain’t doing the news, make it Tommy’s Fuck Spot.”

Kim just stares at Tommy who keeps looking away, but she keeps on fucking staring at him.

TOMMY: “What the fuck do you want?!”

Kim starts laughing, which only makes Tommy even more mad. Fucking women, man. I tell you!

KIM: “So, how did the locket go?”

Tommy scratches the back of his head and shrugs.

TOMMY: “Well, she kept it, but now she off fucking some other dude, that’s fucking another woman, but he really wants to fuck this one, but she’s like nah. I don’t fucking know. All I know is she kept it and she’s probably looking at it right now.”

Kim rolls her eyes and starts to laugh.

KIM: “Uh, huh.”

Tommy looks at her and just shakes her head. He motions for her to go behind the camera.

TOMMY: “Let’s get this shit going. I got places to be!”

American Tommy situates himself in the chair while Kim twirls her finger around and starts counting down from five. When she hit zero a package sequence starts which shows owls, bald eagles, American Tommy riding Yoyo Banzai like a bull in their match and finally the words, “News for Muggles” come across the screen in red, white and blue with American Tommy holding an American flag and Hogwarts robes. Kim points to Tommy.

TOMMY: “Hi…”

As American Tommy utters his first words the screen goes dark. Panic sets in and Kim is trying to get the power back on, but they can’t. American Tommy slams his hands on the desk. His face is as red as Deapool’s suit, but he doesn’t look as gay. He looks as hulked up as someone who weighs one hundred seventy-five pounds could look.

TOMMY: “WHAT THE FUCK! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE!”

Kim shrugs at American Tommy and isn’t looking him in the eyes. She’s not afraid, but sad for disappointing Tommy and she fucking should be!

KIM: “We blew a fuse and it’s going to take a while to reboot. We will have to do it next week.”

American Tommy throws all his papers in the air and they rain all over the room like he’s dropping dollars for single moms at the strip club. He walks up to Kim and he’s not happy, man.

TOMMY: “This is bullshit. Nothing but a fucking troll job, folks. Kim, this is unacceptable. I had real news I need to deliver. Like, how I heard Vossler was a contestant in a drag queen competition that he obvious won. It’s a shame people won’t hear this earth-shattering news. Be ready next week! I’m dropping the hammer on some bitches.”

Kim nods her head and American Tommy pushes over a light before leaving.

TOMMY: “AND PICK THAT SHIT UP!”

Kim watches Tommy leaves and tells everybody they can go.

KIM: “Wizards…”

UNDERCARD
FATAL FOUR-WAY
JACK OWYNS VS. LADY LILIN
VS. ADAM WOLFE VS. ZEEL PARK

TAYLOR: “Well up next fans of the Octane Four Ways are once more in for a treat as the newest batch of competitors to the Octane roster look to establish themselves as threats.”

CAMPBELL: “Another fucking four way? I swear I’m never going to learn anyone’s name is this place…”

LAWSON:“Ignore our probable drunk colleague, we know you tune in for the fast past, high Octane action and we’re about to give you a glimpse of some of the talented athletes you’ll only find here.”

TAYLOR: “I’m excited, I’m sure our viewers are too, let’s take it to the ring and get a glimpse of these hot young prospects…”

CAMPBELL: ”I bet you’re looking forward to see some hot young…”

As Campbell’s mic is mysteriously faded down, we cut to Drake standing in the ring, mic in hand for some introduction action.

DRAKE: “Ladies and gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a FOUR WAY CONTEST”

The ringside microphone picks up one fan yelling “whooo, four ways, fuck yeah” as music comes pummeling out the loudspeaker and at ridiculous rate.

“We not asking mothafuckers to care about us

We just letting mothafuckas know we coming

It’s real, it’s a real mothafuckin’ movement

Whether you like it or not

Whether you support it or not

It’s a real mothafuckin’ movement, man.”

The lights fade, as Alpha Omega performed by Machine Gun Kelly erupts on the airwaves. A red fog begins to form in front of the entrance way, as the Villain steps out from the back, and stands center stage. He looks down; a hoodie masking his head and face. The crowd as one, breaks into a loud boo.

DRAKE: “Making his way down to the ring from Seattle, Washington, standing in at six feet, four inches tall, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-four pounds, the ‘VILLAIN’, JACK OOWWYYNNSS!!!”

Jack raises his head, and the hoodie falls back resting on his shoulder. He grins ear to ear, and begins his walk down the aisle that separates the entrance from the ring.

“(Bitch!) I am the alpha, I am the omega

(What?) I am the alpha, I am the omega

(Ah!) I am the alpha, I am the omega

(Ay!) I am the alpha, I am the omega”

He gives no attention to the fans, that scream into his ear as he walks by. Acting if they aren’t even there. He pulls his hoodie off, and tosses it beside the ring as he rolls underneath the bottom rope and entered into the ring.

Jack walks to the opposite corner of where he entered the ring, and leaned up against the turnbuckle. His music fades out.

CAMPBELL: “I like this Owyns man, even with the unnecessary y in his name, he knows you don’t waste your time on the fans, you focus on that ring and you focus on who is next to come out.”

LAWSON: “Certainly an intense air that oozes out of the big man in this bout.”

“Resurge” by Gone is Gone begins to play throughout the arena. Succubus emerges from behind the curtain as she embraces the booing crowd with an arrogant smile plastered across her face. Succubus takes a purple apple that she has in her left hand and seductively bites into it. As the song progresses, Succubus spits the remains of the apple towards the fans sitting on the sides and begins to walk towards the ring.

DRAKE: ”Introducing from Athen, Ohio… She is the Devil’s Playmate… ‘Succubus’ LADY LLIILLIINN!!!”

Succubus hops on the ring apron and smiles towards the camera as she tilts her head forward and lifts one eyebrow, giving her a vindictive look on her face. Succubus enters via the ring ropes and begins to get ready for her match.

CAMPBELL: “I’d let her suck my bus any day.”

LAWSON: “What does that even mean?”

TAYLOR: “I’d rather we just ended this conversation”

Master of Puppets by Metallica begins to play as Wolfe sprints out from behind the curtain and down the ramp.

DRAKE: ”Weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and hailing from Toronto, Canada, ‘The Puppet Master’, ADAM WWOOLLFFEE!!!”

Wolfe slides into the ring and immediately sits down, crossing his legs. He pulls out a socket puppet and begins to have a very in-depth conversation.

CAMPBELL: “I’d compliment his quick entrance but is he… is he talking to a fucking sock?”

TAYLOR: “The kids love it!”

CAMPBELL: “The kids love sockless idiots? I thought kids liked Minecraft and Overwatch, not homeless men without socks.”

LAWSON: “Sockless or not, no one in the ring should take Wolfe lightly tonight. He’s a real threat and no one should take his child like air for granted”

The lights in the arena go dark for a few seconds before “I’m Not Sorry,” starts up; white strobe lights following different intensities flashing to the beat before a sudden spotlight is put upon the figure onstage. Head down, letterman jacket, snapback covering his features as one hand is clasped over a fist hanging down. With the first word of the song, the figure brings his head up with a large smile, the lights coming back up as the strobes die down.

He looks around at the crowd for a moment, shaking his head before looking at the camera with a smirk. With one sift motion, just as the song picks up, he slaps the camera to a jerk and begins to head down the ramp, the visual shaky for a moment before it focuses again.

DRAKE: ”Coming in from Queen’s New York, wanting me to let you all know that he’s still new and doesn’t have any real nicknames lined up, standing five feet, nine inches, weighing in at one hundred fifty-six pounds, ZEEL PPAARRKK!!!”

The way down is a quick strip, losing the hat and throwing it into the crowd before taking off his jacket. Bottom of the ramp, he shrugs into the camera with a laugh; a water bottle in his hand for some reason, out of thin air, that he uses to throw a bit of water at the referee once he enters the ring. He laughs when the referee yells at him and puts both hands up, jacket still in his hands, which he realizes. He throws the bottle to the outside and hands his jacket off as if it’s a title.

Finally, Zeel takes a seat on a turn buckle, reaching out to accept yet another water bottle handed to him by someone not in the shit. He takes a drink and then smiles for the pictures, waiting for the match to begin.

LAWSON: “A true K-Pop style entrance from Zeel here!”

CAMPBELL: “He’s from Queens, you massive racist”

TAYLOR: “The young man certainly has an air of confidence about him, whether that will pay off, we’ll have to wait and see as this match kicks off!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: As the bell rings, Jack Owyns eyes down the Succubus herself while in the opposing corner, Zeel Park looks down upon Wolfe’s sockpuppet conversation with a smug like glee. Zeel dusts off his boot over Wolfe’s head a few times and the first few headshots do very little to dissuade Wolfe from his puppety pal. Upon the fifth kick however, a frustrate Wolfe grabs hold of Zeel’s leg a pulls, sending him flipping down hard to the mat. On the other side of the ring, despite trying to a land a few power blows, Succubus is having a difficult time taking the wind out of the much larger Owyns. Succubus realising the power isn’t going to help her in this situation slips behind Owyns and wrenches arm in a hammerlock. Owyns does not seem happy nor impressed at this situation, using his free arm to hook the Succubus’ head and knees her directly in the skull as hard as he possibly can, sending her staggering back in the ring. Zeel sees the staggered Succubus and breaks from Wolfe, sending Succubus flying out the ring with a powerful dropkick straight to the back of the head.

Zeel arrogantly waves bye bye to Succubus as she crashes out of the ring but his celebrations are short lived, Zeel turns back around into the action and finds his head is having a speedy introduction with the Octane mat thanks to a snap DDT from Jack Owyns. Owyns lets out a giant roar of pride, forgetting that Adam Wolfe is still very much inside of the ring. Thankfully Wolfe hasn’t really noticed Owyns, on account of his focus on untying his ring boot while whispering sweet nothings to the sock that resides upon his hand and arm. Owyns rushes towards to sock loving idiot but at the very last second, Wolfe rolls out of the way causing Owyns to crotch himself in the second rope. Wolfe looks towards the crowd and nods happily, knocking Owyns off the ropes and down to the mat with a stiff lariat. Wolfe immediately scrambles down for the cover.

ONE

.

.

The referee’s hand doesn’t even reach two as Zeel Park rushes back into the ring, driving a knee into the temple of Wolfe to break up the fall. His success is not long for this world as Lilin returns to the ring and drives a running knee straight to the gut of Park. She grabs him by the shoulder and rams him straight into the corner post.

TAYLOR: “I don’t think Succubus was all that pleased by the brutal dropkick straight to her skull, looking to take a little revenge.”

LAWSON: “If Zeel isn’t careful, he’ll be sipping his kimchi stew through a straw!”

CAMPBELL: “Again, I cannot stress this enough, he’s from Queens you idiot.”

Middle of the Match: Lady Lilin has ascended the top rope as the three men are trading punches in the centre of the ring. Lilin looks behind her, takes careful measure and leaps off the top, landing down upon all three with a picture perfect moonsault. She scrambles back up to her feet quickly and goes for the pin on Wolfe.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Wolfe kicks out with force, sending Succubus up in the air and crashing down on the mat chest first. Zeel Park decides he needs to get back in the game, in particular, the moonsault game, sending himself crashing down upon Owyns’ chest with the standing variant. The air is taken from the big man for a few moments but as Zeel launches himself back to a vertical base, Wolfe slips behind him and delivers a besocked low blow. Zeel’s eyes begin to water as he slowly falls down, Wolfe responds to the momentum turning in his favour by… starting another sockpuppet conversation. Owyns decides he’s had enough of the games, slips behind Wolfe and delivers a stiff stalling German Suplex, sending Wolfe down hard on the back of his neck. He hoists himself up for a bridge.

ONE

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.

TWO

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.

The pin is broken up by a running knee to the face from Lady Lilin, square in the nose of Owyns. Lilin takes a breather in the ring as she plans her next plan of attack.

LAWSON: “Man, this action is so fast, you need eyes on the back and the sides of your head!”

CAMPBELL: “That is physically impossible, you idiot!”

TAYLOR: “I think we can all agree that these four really want to notch up one in the win column in their debuts and they’ll stop at nothing to do it.”

CAMPBELL: “LOOK! THAT IDIOT CHILD HAS TAKEN HIS BOOT OFF! IT’S DISGUSTING!”

TAYLOR: “As I said, stop at nothing.”

End of the Match: Wolfe has fully removed his boot and tossed it away into the abyss, attempting to pull a second sock of, likely so his sock pal has a girlfriend. As he lifts his leg high in the air, Succubus clips the knee causing Wolfe to buckle. She follows this up with a step up knee straight to the side of the noggin, causing the entire collapse of the one shoed man. Zeel Park rejoins the action as he stand on the apron, he positions himself and waits for Lilin to turn around, launching his entire body against hers, allowing the two of them to collide in brutal fashion. Zeel is quick to mount the top rope with the Succubus down, slamming down hard with a corkscrew. He stays atop Lady Lilin for the one.

ONE

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TWO

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The pin is broken up by Owyns as he stomps down hard on the skull of Zeel. Owyns deadlifts Zeel from the mat and holds him up high in the air for a few seconds before sending him back down to the mat with a stalling vertical suplex. Owyns looks down at Zeel, deciding that the best next move is to choke the entire life out of him, he shoves his forearm atop Zeel’s throat, as Zeel struggles for air, Owyns using his free arm to add to the pressure.

LAWSON: “Owyns keeps up this chokehold, Zeel may be as dead as a dog in soup!”

CAMPBELL: “Okay, who bought Lawson the ‘Racist’s Guide to Commentary’? One of you fuckers must have.”

As Zeel gasps wildly for air, Wolfe returns to the action by launching his entire body down hard on Owyns, deciding that this is clearly the best plan of attack and with complete disregard for his own body, he does it again. Owyns clutches his back in pain and pulls himself up using the ropes, staring at Wolfe like he’s ready to commit an actual real life murder. Zeel scampers towards a neutral corner as he attempts to regain some air.

Back in the mix, Lilin spins Wolfe around only to catch a stiff right to the side of the head. With the sock puppet still on his hand, Wolfe then holds it up and looks in it’s drawn on eyes before carrying on what appears to be a conversation. As lilin turns to face him, the sock puppet turns his attention to her, staring her dead in the eyes. Grabbing onto Wolfe’s hand with both of hers, Lilin pulls the sock from it before tossing it out of the ring. In a fit, Wolfe then wraps her up and begins driving her across the ring until the two hit the ropes and topple over before crashing down to the floor below.

With fresh lungs, Zeel then charges across the ring at Jack, jumping into the air and hitting him in the face with a leaping forearm smash! As Zeel hits the floor, Jack hits the ropes and bounces off, stumbling across the ring in a daze. Popping back to his feet, Zeel then darts past Jack and hits the ropes in front of him. Coming back on the rebound, Zeel drops his shoulder and leaps forward, driving it into Jack’s stomach and wiping him out with a spear!

CAMPBELL: ”There’s the Brick Out!”

LAWSON: ”Ow, she’s a brick… HOUSE!!!”

Covering Owyns, Zeel goes to end it as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

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.

TWO

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THREE!!!

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

TAYLOR: ”There we have it, Zeel park wins it in his 4CW debut!”

LAWSON: ”It was a hard fought battle on everyone’s behalf but in the end, Zeel was able to capture the win.”

“I’m Not Sorry” hits the speakers as Zeel rises to his feet with a cocky grin stretched across his face. As he surveys the damage, the official steps in beside him, grabbing his arm and lifting it high into the air.

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, ZEEL PPAARRKK!!!”

Octane heads backstage to find Dirk Dickwood, Superagent and manager of Cecilworth Farthington pacing back and forth rapidly, occasionally glancing at his watch as he does so. He is standing close to the talent entrance of the arena and everyone few seconds, upon any noise at all, he snaps his head towards the door. He begins to murmur to himself.

DICKWOOD: “Where is that little prick? He swore to me he was off the… well I don’t have the time in my entire lifetime to list that shit’s addictions. He told me he wasn’t going to play that again and yet, here we are. Show has started and ole Poshy McFucknuts hasn’t even arrived.”

Dirk mops some flop sweat from his brow as his concern increases. He pulls out his smartphone and flicks away, checking his voicemail, his messages, his WhatsApp, his twitter DMs that are normally only reserved for accidentally leaked dick pics. He checks them all, the frustration growing deeper and deeper with the lack of a response. Dirk decides to give another call to his client, it goes to voicemail again.

DICKWOOD: “C-Money, I swear to god, if you are dead in a ditch just now, I’m taking my commission from your bloody corpse, do you understand me? Hell, I’ll find your fucking corpse, prop it up, Weekend at Bernies style and you’ll probably be as equally fucking successful as you have been in FOUR CEE DUB so far…”

As Dirk is in the middle of his telephone rant, the backstage door snaps open and in waltzes Cecilworth Farthington, clutching a plastic bag and wearing the same kind of smile a dog who just shat in his neighbour’s garden would wear. Dirk hangs the phone up and turns towards his client.

DICKWOOD: “And just where the hell do you think…”

Cecilworth holds up his palm and shushes Dirk down.

FARTHINGTON: “Dirktrude, relax, relax, I had to go to Diagon Alley and make a few purchases…”

DICKWOOD: “You.. you went to FUCKING Florida, on match day?”

Cecilworth’s brow furrows in confusion.

FARTHINGTON: “Of course not, Dirksta McNasty, as every aristocrat in the wonderful country of England, may the King live forever, knows, the wizard world is real. Once you kill your first poor, you get access to Diagon Alley for all of your shopping needs!”

DICKWOOD: “You killed a… what am I even saying, I don’t have time for this japery.”

Dirk snaps his fingers in front of the eyes of Cecilworth.

DICKWOOD: “Stay with me here MAH BOY, it kind of seems like you’ve….”

FARTHINGTON: “I’ve been preparing real hard for my match against Harry Potter? You’re too kind! Far too kind! I didn’t think you had noticed.”

Dirk winces as if Cecilworth’s words as causing him create physical discomfort.

DICKWOOD: “No, I wasn’t saying that, I’m just worried you’re back…”

FARTHINGTON: “Back from the really awesome wizard shop that’s totes totes rad? No need to worry about that Dirk! I mean, look what I got here.”

Cecilworth slides a box out from the bag he was clutching and points it up high to the heavens.

DICKWOOD: “You’ve got a box! Fucking bravo, you purchased a box. I can see why you were hours late to the arena now, I can see why we didn’t have time to fucking strategise for our match. I can see why this all happened now, it’s because you had to go to god fucking knows where and buy yourself a box…”

Cecilworth chuckles to himself.

FARTHINGTON: “A mere box? Hah! A Farthington man would never waste his time on such triffling matters as mere box purchases. No, no my dear Dirkington, this box contains real power. ULTIMATE POWER. The power of life and death, light and dark. It is the key to my victory over the evil doer Harry Potter here tonight.”

Cecilworth opens the box and presents the contents to his manager like a cat would a dead bird to its owner.

DICKWOOD: “Oh, I see, I had it all wrong. It’s not just a box, it’s a box with a stick inside! That explains everything.”

Cecilworth tosses the box to the side after lifting out the stick, twirling it around his fingers.

FARTHINGTON: “This is no mere stick. This is the power to give life and to take away life’s last breath. Or at least that’s what the man urinating into a nearby skip told me as I bought it from him. I need to be ready Dirkleby, if that wizard boy waves that magic wand of his, I need to counter… and NOW I CAN!”

DICKWOOD: “So, you bought a fancy stick from a pissing hobo instead of focusing, like you should have, on American Tommy?”

FARTHINGTON: “Who’s American Tommy? Tonight I fight the Potter boy and I prove to him that the wealthy elite are the true heros of the world. Me and my nine and a half inch dragon cum rod.”

Cecilworth gleefully jabs the stick in various different directions, almost taking out his own eye at one point.

DICKWOOD: “And what exactly do you plan to do if that stick isn’t as magical as some pissing vagrant told you it was?”

Cecilworth shrugs.

FARTHINGTON: “Shove it up his arse?”

DICKWOOD: “See! That’s a plan I can get behind”

We cut elsewhere.

Over at ringside, the hip-hop beats of Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne’s “Changed It” blares out through the speakers. An overhead shot captures the fans in attendance booing as they all realize who’s about to come out. The camera angle then changes to a shot of the stage where Caroline O’Hara Burchill emerges from, having her signature smug look on display as she is hammered down by the rapturous negativity emanating from the audience. Enjoying the hate that she was getting, Caroline laughs as she outstretches her arms to the sides and slowly spins around, savoring every moment as the music continues to play.

“The big 3 on the court, bitch hit them bleachers

I don’t wanna have to break bad like it screeches

A bitch out in Atlanta eating them peaches

A bitch got more bars than where Big Meech is”

Caroline then stops and makes her way down the ramp, occasionally spewing some smart remarks to the fans as those she passes by attempt to heckle her. One fan even goes as far to throw a cup at her as she gets closer to the ring, but it narrowly misses her as it whizzes by her head. Noticing this, Caroline cackles out and belittles the fan.

BURCHILL: “Oh, you hating ass bitch! So mad over what? You’re pathetic!”

She flips her hair and smiles before she goes up the steps and enters the ring. As she’s inside, she motions for one of the ringside crew members to pass her a mic. With a microphone in hand, the music fades off, though the relentless boos continue on as the crowd make it well known that they are not fans of the brash and condescending Aussie.

Undeterred, Caroline rolls her eyes and places the mic up to her mouth so that she could speak, even in spite of the crowd’s reaction.

BURCHILL: “Each and every single last one of you should be ashamed of yourselves. I mean, is this how you treat someone who’s the face of Octane? Huh? Are you going to continue spewing hate at me when I inevitably become the inaugural Octane Champion?”

The boos pile on as Caroline said that. The young woman goes by the ropes to lean against them as she waits for the crowd to quiet down a bit before she continued.

BURCHILL: “Anyways, I don’t have time to drag every single one of you fools right now. You are all nothing more but a bunch of pathetic wastes of flesh that’s hating on a woman that will always be more successful than you, which is why you morons put away your disease-riddled body pillows and slip out of your parents’ basement just so that you can go out of you way to air out your grievances to me…The simple fact of the matter is that I’ve been noticing how some of the wrestlers around here have been… taken me lightly, if you will. Either that, or they’ve been coming at me on Twitter and saying how I’m not worth anything and that I will never be anything special here.”

Caroline nods her head for a bit before she gets off the ropes and begins pacing back and forth inside the ring.

BURCHILL: “Oh yeah, I’m well aware of the fact that people are always looking for ways to downplay me as a competitor. People say that I desperately latch onto a belt from another promotion as a means to maintain some kind of relevance and others have simply called me a ‘meme wrestler’.

To be exact with names, Bryan Williams called me that and it’s ironic considering the fact that his career has been one entire fucking joke. I mean, how many times has the poor thing been injured or dumped? If only he was as consistent in the ring as he is with failing to maintain the pussy he gets for more than two weeks.”

With a smirk, Caroline looks at the camera and winks.

BURCHILL: “Moving on though, I think it’s hilarious how so many 4CW wrestlers are finding ways to discredit me in every conceivable way possible. I could go on to have an immaculate record and obtain every championship possible, but still, so many of them aren’t willing to accept the fact that maybe…. Juuuuust maybe…. Caroline O’Hara Burchill is someone that should be taken seriously as a threat.

After all, I’m in the finals of the Octane Championship tournament, and the rest of you aren’t!”

An arrogant smile graces her face as she gloats to the fans.

BURCHILL: “And I never got this far by just barely getting by or being at the right spot at the right time. It’s not dumb luck. I’ve been busting my ass for three years since I came to the United States and with every match that I have, I keep on getting better and better. I’ve managed to shoot up the ranks quickly here. I’m in my third consecutive main event match for Octane. I’m primed and positioned to being the wrestler that’s going to lead this show to its golden age, and my actions inside this very ring proves that I am by far one of the best wrestlers in the world today.”

None of you can lace up my boots and do the things that I can do. I’m a force to be reckoned with here, and a mighty one at that. It’s why I was signed to this show in the first place! Walker and Wallace both recognized the immense amount of talent that I possess, so if I was truly a joke wrestler like how a lot of you paint me out to be, then I simply wouldn’t be here.”

Her gloating attitude would leave now as she became more serious. As if she was addressing in the Octane locker room directly, Caroline looks directly at the camera as she speaks.

BURCHILL: “But I know you inept blokes aren’t going to listen… some of you think that I’m way over my head here… and if you’re stilling doubting me? Then I suggest you pay attention later on tonight as I make Dex and Sativa look like my bitches in the main event. I told you all that the Burchill Dynasty was going to be taking over 4CW, and tonight will be a footnote in the everlasting tale of my dominance over everyone here.”

Burchill looks over the arena as the fans continue to boo. Even “You suck!” chants break out from the crowd, but Burchill doesn’t get caught up in them as she steps closer to the cameraman. Her eyes narrow as she grabs the poor man by the shirt and brings him forward, just so that she could look directly at the camera in an intense manner.

BURCHILL: “I’m just that daaaaaamn good! Always have been, and always fucking will be!”

Speaking straight from the chest with that one, Caroline emphatically drops the mic as she continues to mouth off to the camera. She eventually lets go of the man and gives him a bit of a shove before she exits the ring. As she walks away, Caroline continues to berate some of the fans. When she reaches the stage, Caroline raises her arms up before she disappears to the back.

Cutting backstage we see Sativa Nevaeh standing with Gabriel Hartman.

HARTMAN: ”I’m here with the newest addition to Octane, Sativa Nevaeh. Welcome to Octane Sativa.”

NEVAEH: ”Hey thanks Gabe! Dunno if I have ever told you this but you are my favorite non-wrestler in 4CW.”

Hartman blushes slightly and fidgets a bit.

HARTMAN: ”Why thank you Sativa. The big question everyone has is why you decided to come to Octane?”

NEVAEH: ”Well, it’s like I said in my promo package earlier this week. I just wanted a change of scenery. You can kinda get lost in the landscape, if you catch my meaning. Plus, Octane hot ay ef right now.”

HARTMAN: ”That is true. So any new thoughts about your Octane debut later tonight?”

NEVAEH: ”Just the same old stuff I said before. It’s fucked up that this is basically a handicap match. I got some plans for tonight though. Don’t worry about that.”

HARTMAN: ”Like a lot of other Octane stars you are in the Four Corners Frenzy match at the next adrenaline. How do you feel that, if things work in your favor, this might be a short stint on Octane?”

Sativa chuckles.

NEVAEH: ”Well, if that is the case then I will enjoy my time here. If not then my sights will focus on that Octane Title.”

HARTMAN: ”Speaking of which. Tonight in the Main Event one of your opponents in Caroline Burchill, the person who is set to be in the match to decide who will be the first Octane Champion. If you are able to pin her tonight, what could that mean for you?”

NEVAEH: ”Well, it SHOULD play out nice. But this is 4CW so who fuckin knows. If I were management and I saw someone hand Caroline her first 4CW loss after dominating two 4-ways it would impress me. Maybe even enough to make the title match a triple threat with Caroline, the person who pinned her, and who ever makes it in the end of this tournament.”

HARTMAN: ”Only time will tell, eh? Well, thanks for your time Sativa. Good luck out there tonight.”

NEVAEH: ”Thank you Gabe. Anytime you want a word or what not I’m always happy to see you.”

Sativa smiles at Hartman before turning around and heading back towards her locker room.

UNDERCARD
CECILWORTH FARTHINGTON VS. AMERICAN TOMMY

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

“When The Going Gets Tough” by Billy Ocean BOOMS over the speaker system as out from the back, with a ten mile grin, bounds Cecilworth Farthington. Not long behind Farthington is the manager of the aristocratic, Dirk Dickwood. As Farthington stands atop the entranceway, The Manager of Champions, Dirk Dickwood presents his client to a crowd not exactly pleased to see either man.

DICKWOOD: ”Let me show you how to introduce a talent in the PROPER WAY. Introducing first, hailing from Buckinghamshire, England, and standing at SIX FOOT THREE INCHES and weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds… HE IS GOD’S GIFT TO THE PROFESSION… THE FANCY MAN, MAH BOY, MAH MAN, HE IS CECILWORTH FFAARRTTHHIINNGGTTOONN!!!”

The crowd reacts in some manner, WHO KNOWS WHAT THEY DO, as Cecilworth leans up against the turnbuckle, giving the crowd a big ole V for Victory, which is very Churchillian.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

“Best Song Ever” by One Direction blares from the arena speakers as the crowd jumps to their feet in excitement. Gold and Crimson lights flash around the arena and Golden Snitches drop from the ceiling. American Tommy makes his way through the curtain and stands in the middle of the ramp smiling. He waves to the crowd. As he makes his way down to the ring he pulls on the bottom of his shirt so everybody pays attention to it.

DRAKE: ”Standing five feet, eleven inches and weighing in at one hundred and seventy-five pounds. He hails from the Windy City, Chicago, IL! AMERICAN TTOOMMMMYY!!!”

American Tommy stops dead in his tracks with a look of disgust on his face. Looking at Drake he begins pointing and yelling. He walks over to the side of the ramp and grabs a microphone from 4CW personnel. His music stops as he walks to the center again.

TOMMY: “Damn it, Drake! Every damn week! Say it right or I’ll curse you, muggle!”

Drake stares down at American Tommy and shakes her head. American Tommy sits in the middle of the ramp and shrugs at Powers who sighs and starts speaking again.

DRAKE: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, get on your feet for the grand wizard of them all. Standing at 5’11” with a penis much larger than that. Hailing from Hogwarts, USA! Harry Potter!”

American Tommy jumps up in glee, clapping his hands. He throws the microphone back to the stagehand and motions for his music to play again as he starts heading to the ring again. Reaching the wring he slides in with the grace of a baby learning to walk. He climbs up on the turnbuckle he raises his wand to the crowd as they do the same to him. Jawing with someone at ringside he hops off the turnbuckle and places his trusty wand underneath it.

LAWSON: ”Both men have been on a bit of a losing streak since coming over to Octane. Luckily for one, they’ll break that streak here tonight.”

TAYLOR: ”At least that’s what both are hoping! While not a loss, a draw between these two could be just as bad for both men’s self esteem moving forward.”

CAMPBELL: ”No big deal! Losing streaks happen from time to time… unless you’re DARIN ZION!!! But coming into a new setting like this, sometimes it takes a little time for people to find their footing.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: At the start of the match, Tommy tries to engage his inner Harry Potter, pulling a wand from his pants and pointing it in Cecil’s direction while screaming off some unclear words that turn out to be nothing but rubbish. Smacking the wand from his hand, Cecil sets the pace after a quick kick to Tommy’s gut which led to him then following up with a stalling suplex. For a few moments, Cecil worked Tommy across all sides of the ring, displaying his experience over the inexperienced rookie. With Tommy down on his back, Cecil went to the ropes and then came back, going for an illegal ball stomp, but missing as Tommy popped back to his feet and delivered a kick to the crotch himself! For nearly two minutes, the match was stopped until Cecil could stand back to his feet on his own. From that point on, Cecil had a small limp in his step, which resulted in Tommy being about to out maneuver him with his speed, tearing away at him piece by piece with small, less devastating moves.

TAYLOR: ”American Tom–“

CAMPBELL: ”That’s Harry Potter! Didn’t you here the announcement made when he came to the ring?!”

TAYLOR: ”Excuse me. Harry Potter may lack when it comes to experience when compared to Cecilworth but he’s making up for it with his speed and ability to keep Cecilworth off his feet.”

LAWSON: ”If I were To–Harry, I’d worry about that big fella on the outside of the ring accompanying Cecilworth.”

Middle of the Match: While eager to prove himself in the ring, Tommy’s inexperience soon led to him eating a mouthful of turnbuckle as Cecil took him down face first into the corner. Back in control of the match, leveled Tommy with a spectacle series of German suplexes that brought the entire arena to their feet. With the crowd somewhat behind him, Cecil slowly wore Tommy down with move after move after move that Tommy simply couldn’t counter. Taking things aerial, Cecil leaped from the top rope for a double axe-handle but with his mid-section exposed, Tommy quickly reached for an opening and countered with a dropkick to the gut. Twirling round and round, Tommy took Cecil for a ride, giving him an airplane spin in the center of the ring that even made Dirk on the outside dizzy as his eyes followed Cecil’s flying body. After leaving Cecil in a dizzy state and on his feet, Tommy took him down with a hip toss, his favorite move YoYo Toss Salad, and quickly following up with a pin.

ONE

.

.

TW-

After a quick kickout by Cecil, Tommy began throwing a fit with the official, which then resulted in Cecil gaining the upperhand with an attack from behind on the unexpected wizard!

CAMPBELL: ”I’m still getting over the fact that he tries to pin someone after something as little as a hip toss.”

LAWSON: ”Eventually he’ll learn that this is just simply not the move to finish someone off with.”

TAYLOR: ”We can only hope, right?”

End of the Match: Still control after Tommy’s outburst with the official, Cecil seems to have him right where he wants him. With one arm locked around Tommy’s head, Cecil hooks his leg and then goes for his Fisherman’s suplex, Worthless, but instead catches two quick punches to the ribs by Tommy, forcing him to let go of his leg. With his arm over Cecil’s head as well, Tommy then reaches behind him and grabs onto the back of his pants, lifting him into the air and dropping him in the center of the ring with a snap suplex. Just when things looked to be coming to an end for Tommy, he turns it around and gains momentum in the blink of an eye. Both men race to their feet, Tommy standing first but before he can move in, Cecil bursts up to his feet and lunges forward with a wild punch. Ducking underneath it, Tommy wraps him up and lifts him into the air, dropping Cecil’s crotch onto his knee with an atomic drop. Holding his crotch, Cecil’s face turns bright red as the pain begins to settle in his stomach. Lunging forward again, Cecil attempts to lock onto Tommy but gets lifted into the air and slammed back down with a second atomic drop! Cecil nearly drops to his knees as the pain is unbearable but before he can, Tommy then lifts him off his feet and slams him down to his back with a hip toss! After hitting Cecil with a second YoYo Toss Salad, Tommy goes for the pin as usual.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

CAMPBELL: ”HE DID IT!!! HARRY DID IT!!!”

TAYLOR: ”After a second YoYo Toss Salad, Tommy was able to score the pinfall over Cecil!”

LAWSON: ”That isn’t all that did it. I think it may have had something to do with Tommy’s attempts at castrating him with those back to back inverted atomic drops.”

CAMPBELL: ”HIS NAME IS HARRY POTTER!!!”

“Best Song Ever” by One Directions hits the speakers as Tommy pops up to his feet in excitement. Celebrating in the center of the ring, he retrieves his wand from a member of the ringside crew before casting spells over the entire crowd watching. Meanwhile, Cecil rolls to the edge of the ring as Dirk checks in on him. Stepping in beside Tommy, the official then raises his arm into the air as Tommy points the wand around with his free hand.

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, AMERICAN TOM– HARRY PPOOTTTTEERR!!!”

FISHER: ”Well would you looky here! Hollywood himself! Bryan Fuckin’ Laughlin!“

Hobbling into the locker room area, a cane in one hand and arthritis in both, was Bob Fisher. A pervert grin plastered across his sagging face. His yellow, long past rotted teeth peeking out behind his unkempt facial hair. Sitting on a bench a few feet away from Bob was Bryan Laughlin, who was getting ready for his match against Jeb scheduled for later on tonight. Bryan slightly grinned before letting out an annoyed sigh, obviously not to thrilled to have to deal with the nuisance that Bob is.

LAUGHLIN: ”Hey there Bob…“

Bryan’s eyes go wide as he starts to shake his head, yet his focus was still on lacing up his boots – not giving Bob more than a second glance.

FISHER: ”I didn’t think your punk ass was going to show up Hollywood! Figured you would go run and hide in the warmth between that firecrotch of yours legs. But here you are, the big bad boogeyman…But I gotta tell you somethin’ boy, you don’t look that big or that in-tim-i-datin’ to me! Hell I’ve had kidney stones bigger than you Hollywood.“

Bryan has seemingly had enough of the old man’s bullshit as he throws his wrist tape to the ground and stomps up to his feet.

LAUGHLIN: ”LISTEN, YOU OLD CUNT. Not that I’m surprised by your ignorance, but I was fired from Hollywood Pro. So don’t fucking call me that. K? K. Second. I’m not sure what makes you think you can walk into my fucking locker room like it’s whatever methadone clinic you hobbled your half crippled ass out of. But you and your boy both need to show a little respect.“

Bryan takes another step and comes face to face with Bob, trying not to break his concentration on that wretched smell coming from his crooked smile.

FISHER: ”Respect? Boy I fucked fitty hookers over in nam’ so little pricks like you could go to sleep at night without wetting the bed. So you wanna’ talk about respect Hollywood…I’d suggest you get down on your knees and start slobbering! And Boo-fuckin-hoo You got fired, cry me a goddamn river. They did you a favor, maybe now your focus is where it should be! On my boy Jeb!“

With the raise of his eyebrow Bryan’s lips perk as he can’t help but smile at the old man using his service to the country to demand Bryan recognize his legitimacy.

LAUGHLIN: ”Well then… with all due respect…”

Bryan extends his hand as an uncharacteristically pleased Bob smiles before his face is turns a dark shade of red because the hand Laughlin extended in a showing of respect is around his neck showing anything but that.

LAUGHLIN: ”What was that Bob? Can’t hear ya could you say it a little louder?”

He mocks him by leaning his head in but all that’s returned is spit projected from Bob’s mouth.

FISHER: ”Cock…Sucker…Fuckhead!”

The look of amusement covered Laughlin’s face as Bob struggled to stay conscious, shouting out every swear word he knew in hoarse, faded breaths. Then from seemingly out of nowhere Bryan gets creamed in the back of the skull by the head of Jeb Fisher, who has come to the rescue of his father. Laughlin falls to one knee, losing his grip on Bob’s throat in the process. Jeb was clearly riled up as he stood over Laughlin as if he was an rabid primate, slamming his fist into his chest with a good amount of force. Just as Jeb goes to continue his attack, security busts into the room, grabbing ahold of the enraged brawler. Jeb tries to force his way out of the security’s clutches and he is just about to do so when Bob regains his composure.

FISHER: ”JEBEDIAH! ENOUGH! Fuck this asshole you’ll catch him in the ring! Let’s go, Jeb.“

As Bob leads Jeb out of the locker room, the security check on the condition of Bryan.

SCOTTSFIERN: “I honestly think you care way too much about what other people think about you, Caroline.”

Backstage, the camera crew catches up to Caroline O’Hara Burchill as she is warming up for a match later on in the evening. Completely changed out of her dress and wearing her usual ring attire, she has her raises her arms above her heads and moves from side to side. Right alongside her was Amy Scottsfiern, having her arms crossed to her chest and whatnot. The furrowing of the brows gives off the impression that Amy was serious. However, Caroline seems apathetic in nature as she continues her warm up routine, barely giving her agent any attention.

SCOTTSFIERN: “We’ve talked about this before. You’re letting people get inside your head. Besides, this is the same thing that drove you near the brink of insanity and you had to take a break all because you were fretting about what everyone had to say about you.”

Rolling her eyes, Burchill stops and turns to face Scottsfiern.

BURCHILL: “Is that so?”

SCOTTSFIERN: “Yes, it is so because I was there first hand when you were having a freaking mental breakdown backstage. Now here you are, slaving away and abusing yourself just so that you can stick it to some wrestlers that are always going to have something bad to say about you.”

BURCHILL:So what? Am I supposed to be complacent with the fact that no one is going to take me seriously around here? Should I shut my mouth and pretend that people are looking down on me?”

SCOTTSFIERN: “I’m not saying that, but what I am telling you is that you shouldn’t get worked up over every little thing said about you. As a matter of fact, the fact that you’re losing your cool and going out of your way to scream about how better you are than everyone else is only going to add more fuel to the fire.”

Groaning, Caroline rubs the temples of her head as she turns her back towards Amy.

BURCHILL: “You know, this really isn’t a good time to be discussing this…”

SCOTTSFIERN: “No. I think it is an appropriate time. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve ignored the fact that you’ve been adding more work for yourself because you’re too busy trying to prove everyone in the world wrong.”

Stepping right in front of her, Amy’s eyes pierce at Caroline as she continues to speak.

SCOTTSFIERN: “You don’t have a chip on your shoulder anymore, Caroline. There’s no need for you to act like the weight of the entire world is on you. You need to ask yourself if any of this is going to be worth it in the end.”

Stopping in her tracks, Caroline lets out an agitated sigh.

BURCHILL: “Amy… What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

SCOTTSFIERN: “Look, no matter how much success you accomplish, there’s always going to be people out there that will do everything they can to undermine you. That’s just the way professional wrestling is. I mean, look at those whose names are synonymous with 4CW. You think people like Cashe, Smith, Hopkins and the rest of them never had people tell them they weren’t shit? In fact, they still have fans, critics and wrestlers alike that pick them apart, regardless of what they’ve done throughout their careers… I’m not saying it’s easy to ignore it all, but Caroline, you need to look at yourself in the mirror and see how much you’re letting every single thing affect you.”

Despite the disinterest that Caroline was displaying, Amy presses on with what she had to say.

SCOTTSFIERN: “You’re talented. You’re already one of Octane’s premiere athletes… there’s no need for you to walk around and feeling as though you still need to prove something. You can’t afford to get distracted with those things now, and especially not leading up to that championship match next month.”

Looking up at Amy for a moment, Caroline frowns.

BURCHILL: “Alright, Amy. Whatever you say…”

With a slight shrug, Caroline goes back to warming up, seemingly ignoring the entire conversation that she and Amy just had. However, Amy simply doesn’t bother pressing the issue furthermore and takes her out cellphone, scrolling away as the shot leaves from the backstage area and onto the next scene.

We cut back to ringside as the lights in the Cabararrus Arena go out. A purple light fills the arena as “Bad Girls” by M.I.A. starts to echo across the arena. Out from the back comes Sativa Nevaeh followed shortly by Lauryn Wolfe. The crowd pops to the duo and the stand at the top of the entrance ramp smiling out over the crowd.

“Live fast, die young

Bad girls do it well

Live fast, die young

Bad girls do it well

My chain hits my chest

When I’m bangin’ on the dashboard

My chain hits my chest

When I’m bangin’ on the radio”

They start to make their way down to the ring, giving fans high fives along the way. Once they reach the ringside both ladies climb the ring steps and pose out to the crowd. They enter the ring and go to opposite corners, climbing to the second turnbuckle. Sativa throws her arms out in a ‘release the doves’ style pose, soaking in the crowds reaction. Opposite her Lauryn had a small smirk on her face, looking reinvigorated from her recent string of success since coming back to active competition. She lets out her signature howl, in which the audience does the same.

The pair drops down to the mat and both receive microphones from a member of the ring crew. They stand in the center of the ring waiting for their music and the fans cheers to fade. Once everything settled down, Lauryn would be the first to speak as she scans the arena, nodding her head approvingly.

WOLFE: “Well, it’s pretty damn good to see you as well, North Carolina!”

Of course, the fans pop for that and Lauryn chuckles a bit before glancing over at Sativa. Sativa grins as she brings the mic up to her lips.

NEVAEH: ”Damn! This shit never gets old!”

The crowd pops again and Sativa just smiles.

NEVAEH: ”I had heard that the fans here in North Carolina loved them some Octane. One of the many reasons I decided to make the move over here. But that isn’t why the pair of us are out here right now.”

She lowers the mic and looks over to Lauryn. They exchange looks deciding which one of them will make an announcement. Both raise the mics to their lips but Lauryn is the one to speak.

WOLFE: “I mean, Switzerland was nice and all, but we couldn’t miss out on scouting the competition and seeing what’s happening. After all, Sativa and I have a lot of studying to do since, well…”

A grin comes across her face as Lauryn looks at the crowd.

WOLFE: “We’re officially going to be taking part of Bad Company this year!”

NEVAEH: ”That’s right folks, Lauryn and I decided to get that throwback Gen Now team mojo goin. But we ain’t gonna be Gen Now again. That shit is played out and stale ay ef. So, more than likely you will see us in Glasgow on the first night of Bad Company three as…”

Sativa lowers her mic, letting the anticipation build. The crowd falls deathly silent, waiting to hear the name of the team.

NEVAEH: ”Purple Haze!”

HUGE pop from the crowd. Sativa grins as she looks out at the crowd. She nudges Lauryn and motions to the crowds reaction.

NEVAEH: ”That was a better reception than last tag team I announced in 4CW.”

WOLFE: “And that’s good, but of course, popularity won’t get us far. I could bore you all with the same tales about how many golden opportunities I’ve had here and let them all bypass me. In fact, I know a lot of wrestlers aren’t going to take me seriously. Either folks aren’t going to see me as a strong tag team competitor, or they’ll think I need to be carried.”

Lauryn rolls her eyes.

WOLFE: “But then again, this is 4CW. People will always talk shit and find ways to downplay others. Doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done… However, I’d like to think that Sativa and I can get the job done. After all, she’s been a tag champ before while I know what I need to bring to the table this time around to make sure we walk out of Tokyo with the tag team belts around our waists.”

NEVAEH: ”I have every faith in you Lauryn. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have teamed with you. Last year’s Bad Company I made the poor choice of partner. This year I corrected that mistake. This year, it’ll be a repeat of what I did a few years ago when I helped run a prostitot outta 4CW.”

Sativa chuckles at the memory.

NEVAEH: ”This year Lauryn and I will take back what I never lost in the first place. I have come to the conclusion that I want my Tag Title back and I’ll be damned if I am denied this year. So, Champs, everyone else who has and will sign up. We just have one thing to say to you all right now. ”

Sativa looks over at Lauryn and grins.

NEVAEH: ”See you in Tokyo!”

The crowd pops as “Bad Girls” by M.I.A. starts up again. Sativa and Lauryn play to the crowd for a few moments before heading to the back.

The cameras caught up backstage where Chanson Webster stood smiling from ear to ear. He stops smiling before he smiles again, repeating this cycle before finally saying something.

WEBSTER: ”I was upset about Octane two and how shiz went down.”

He started before taking a quick pause.

WEBSTER: ”It should have been me advancing in this tourney but instead it’s sweet Caroline. Now I’m faced with that order of still trying to get in.”

Slightly shaking his head Chanson sighed before that smile creeps back up to his lips.

WEBSTER: ”Which brings us to tonight and my bout with Vossler. It’s a tall order cos Voss has a little bit of spunk but like I told him. I’ve vowed to become the captain of this ship of what is Octane and everything in me is gonna fight to make sure that’s what I live up to.”

I looked down at my waist and imagine the Octane Championship around it.

WEBSTER: ”I know Voss wants to advance to tonight and get one step closer but I can’t let that happen. I can’t fall tonight cos it leaves me without nothing and I don’t like the sound of that.”

He shook his head.

WEBSTER: ”There is no way my name can’t be around that strap. I’m gonna keep fighting and live to see another day. Fight to make history and engrave my name around these walls.”

He nodded his head.

WEBSTER: ”See you out there tonight Vossler.”

Chanson salutes toward the camera before it begins to fade out.

UNDERCARD
OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT
CHRISTIAN JONES VS. AMIRAI REILLEY

Already standing in the ring, Christian Jones waits in his corner as his name is announced throughout the arena.

DRAKE: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Standing in the ring at this time, CHRISTIAN JJOONNEESS!!!”

Pulling on the ropes, he stretches his massive arms while looking up the ramp and at the entrance.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

Lights in blue bathe the crowd, interspersed with white flashes as chanting fills the air and feminine silhouettes dance gracefully, ominously in the flashes of light to the opening strains of ‘Silence’ by Delirium featuring Sarah McLachlan.

“Give me release… Witness me…

I am outside… Give me peace…”

More musical interlude as the crowd murmurs in cobalt immersed anticipation.

“Heaven holds a sense of wonder… and I wanted to believe

That I’d get caught up… when the rage in me subsides”

Amid the dancing shadows and flashes of light, a petite figure stands in the entranceway drawing mixed reaction from those still unsure what to make of her.

POWERS: ”On her way to the ring- she hails from Atlantic City, NJ. Weighing in at one hundrd twenty-two pounds, she is… AMIRAI ‘SOLITAIRE’ RREEIILLLLEEYY!!!”

Amirai sweeps her full length jacket to one side theatrically as she finally makes her way towards the ring staying central to the ramp and out of range of waving hands.

“In this white wave

I am sinking… in this silence

In this white wave… in this silence

I believe”

Straining vocals prelude Amirai sliding beneath the bottom rope and her casual saunter leads her across the canvas and to the furthest corner where she scales up to the second turnbuckle, gazing out across the crowd without much further flourish than another sweeping motion of the bottom of her jacket.

LAWSON: ”It’s now time for some Octane Championship Tournament action!”

CAMPBELL: ”Up next we have the first of three round three matches in the tournament. Kicking things off, Amirai Reilley and Christian Jones will square off head to head!”

TAYLOR: ”It’s a must win situation for both wrestlers as the loser here tonight will be eliminated from the tournament once and for all.”

LAWSON: ”That seems to be the case for all three of our Octane Championship Tournament matches. All six wrestlers have fallen once in previous matches.”

CAMPBELL: ”We’ve seen some pretty intense matches thus far throughout the tournament. Don’t be surprised when these next rounds take it up a few notches.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: Straight out of the gate, Jones used his massive size to his advantage, taking an early lead in the match with an unmatched assault delivered to Amirai’s doorstep. Towering over her smaller figure, Jones tossed her around the ring like a ragdoll. After a series of suplexes, he put on a show for the fans and a display of his strength. Lifting her high above his head, he walked the ropes around the entire ring while bench pressing her up and down with ease. Dropping her in the center with a military press slam, Jones ran right through her as she climbed up to one knee, driving his foot through her face with a running big boot.

Still early on in the match, Jones also showed those in attendance that not only is he a powerhouse, but he can also take to the skies with an aerial assault. After connecting with a frog splash from the top of the corner, he quickly popped back to his feet and his her with another frog splash, this time of the standing variety. Hooking her leg, Jones counted along with the official as he slid in beside them.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

LAWSON: ”Thr–“

TAYLOR: ”NNOOOO!!!”

CAMPBELL: ”Close but no cigar!”

TAYLOR: ”Amirai better do something quickly before it’s too late. Christian is demolishing her with no restraint.”

LAWSON: ”If she doesn’t do something about it he could end this match at any given moment.”

CAMPBELL: ”Just like he almost did right there!”

Middle of the Match: After minutes pass, Christian still has control of the match in his favor. Hitting Amirai with back to back forearms to the face, he then locks onto her wrist and whips her to the far corner across the ring. Crashing back first against the corner, Amirai bounces off and stumbles forward. With her head down, she’s unaware at the bull charging towards her from the other side of the ring. Dropping his shoulder and throwing his body forward, Jones attempts to spear Amirai but comes up empty handed as she rolls out of the way, leaving him nothing to stop his momentum before crashing through the ropes and driving his shoulder into the ring post. Finding a second wind, Amirai quickly takes advantage of the situation and rushes in, attacking Jones’ ribs with rapid kicks as his body hangs on the middle ropes of the corner. Eventually, Jones falls back to the canvas, only to roll over and receive a mouthful of Amirai’s fist as she mounts herself on top of him and begins pounding down onto his face with lightning fast rights.

Keeping the big man off his feet, Amirai unloads a great deal of damage onto Jones with strikes and submission holds, working the various pressure points throughout his body. Pulling him up to his knees, she then turns to the ropes and upon her return, she levels him with a running knee strike to the nose, busting it wide open with the forceful impact! Dropping down to make the cover, Amirai goes for the pin but at the very same moment, it’s as if the blood running down Jones’ face awakens the beast within. Bench pressing her off of his body, he throws her a few feet away from him and breaks up the pin before the official can even begin his count. Popping back to his feet, Jones hits her in the chest with a kick just as she stands to her feet, knocking her breath away. Spinning around, he then lays her completely out with a discus elbow that appears to knock her unconscious. Making the cover, Jones goes for the finish as the official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

CAMPBELL: ”HOW DID SHE–“

TAYLOR: ”I can’t believe it, Amirai kicks out of yet another near pinfall.”

LAWSON: ”That’s two near misses where the officials hand came within centimeters of the canvas with Jones in position to take the win.”

CAMPBELL: ”I’m impressed that Amirai has been able to escape two close calls but how much more can she take?”

LAWSON: ”If Christian keeps up this level of intensity I don’t think she’ll last much longer.”

End of the Match: Still in control, Jones continues throwing Amirai around the ring with power moves, the one thing that has helped him establish his dominance over the smaller woman. After slamming her to the mat with a double underhook powerbomb, Jones appears to have a shot at putting her away for good but instead stands back to his feet. Pulling Amirai up from the mat, he then lifts her up onto his shoulders for a Samoan drop but quickly Amirai slips out of his hold and drops down to her feet behind him. Barely able to stay on her feet, she reacts just in time as Jones spins around with an elbow gunning right for her head. Ducking underneath, she then pops back up and locks onto his head with both hands, dropping down to the canvas and hitting him with a jawbreaker! The move alone rang his bell as Jones stood straight up, holding both hands over his jaw. Taking to the ropes, Amirai then raced in on the return, leaping into the air and wrapping her legs around his head, flipping him across the ring with a head scissors takedown!

Using her MMA experience, Amirai then begins working Jones down with various holds. After a few minutes pass of bending his limbs in directions they weren’t meant to, she then pulls him to his feet and unloads with a series of standing kicks to the chest and ribs. Moving in quickly, she kicks him in the stomach, forcing him to lunge over and as he does, she plants his head into the canvas with a snapmare driver! After executing the Eulitz Cut, she goes for the pin but doesn’t get far before Jones kicks out just before the two count. On top of him, she then goes back to her roots, attacking Jones with a combination of punches and elbows, knocking him more and more senseless as each blow lands fiercely. Managing to get to the ropes, Jones saves himself as the official forces Amirai to move away from him. In a world of pain, he slowly pulls himself up using the ropes and just as he stands, Amirai rushes in with another nasty series of kicks and punches that would knock him to his knees if anywhere other than beside the ropes where he can use them to keep himself upright. In desperation, Jones throws a blind punch for Amirai’s head, missing completely as she leans back and counters with a stiff right to the eye. Kicking him in the gut once more, she then pulls him away from the ropes before taking him down with her Sangeriu Diamant – a facebreaker DDT! Making the cover, she hooks the leg for extra leverage as the official drops in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

TAYLOR: ”There you have it ladies and gentlemen! Amirai Reilley will advance to the fourth round!”

CAMPBELL: ”This was an uphill struggle with her right from the start given the size difference between the two but amazingly she was able to put Christian down with a little move she likes to call Sangeriu Diamant!”

LAWSON: ”There were times when I thought Jones put her away but Amirai refused to stay down. She may have taken a beating here tonight but she can proudly leave the arena tonight knowing that she still has a chance at becoming 4CW’s first Octane champion.”

“Silence” hits the speakers as she slowly rises to her feet. Beaten down and out of breath, she places both hands on her knees to catch her breath as the official steps in beside her. Grabbing her arm, she then stands upright as he lifts it into the air for the victory.

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, AMIRAI RREEIILLLLEEYY!!!”

UNDERCARD
OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT
JEB FISHER VS. BRYAN LAUGHLIN

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

The Loud and melodic guitar chords of “Lake of Fire” by Nirvana strum out throughout the arena. After a few moments Jeb Fisher pushes his way out through the black curtains, a shark like smile on his face – he violently shakes his head. Slapping himself in the side of the skull a few times before turning his attention to Bob Fisher who was hobbling his way out of the back. Bob was shouting off random shit talking and hyping up his boy Jeb. Jeb’s tongue flicks out of his mouth before he sets his sights on the arena pointing to it and marching down the ramp.

As Jeb makes it down to the ring he stops, waiting for Bob to walk up the steels steps and enter through the middle rope. Bob then does the unthinkable and snatches the microphone away from powers. He stands in the middle of the ring and gets a sickening grin on his face before putting the microphone up to his lips.

FISHER: ”I’m gonna’ need all you cocksuckers to shut the fuck up right about now… ABOUT TO ENTER THE RING, WEIGHING IN AT AN ASSKICKING TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE POUNDS. HE HAILS FROM THE CITY OF SIN ITSELF LAS VEGAS, NEVADA. HE IS THE JOHNNY CASH OF CRACKING YOUR SKULL OPEN, AND YOUR WIVES AND DAUGHTERS SECRET PLEASURE. HE IS MY SON… ‘BARBARIC’ JEB FFIISSHHEERR!!!”

Bob throws down the microphone and Jeb jumps up onto the ring apron before quickly going in through the middle rope. He bounces around the ring a few times stretching out his muscles and punching himself in the face with what seem to be vicious blows. Jeb then lets out a manacle, yet full of himself laugh followed by him beating on his chest. Bob smirks to himself as Jeb gets comfortable in his corner.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

The heavy opening guitar riff from “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead hits over the speakers as a slight fog grows around the curtain and Bryan Laughlin emerges walking slowly and stopping in the middle of the stage he pops the collar on his black denim vest allowing the strobe lights that are methodically flashing to the bass thump in the music drown him in mystery.

“Judge me for what I am

The passage of death

You don’t play, you don’t win

You change nothing

You gain nothing

Everybody’s out from here on in”

DRAKE: ”Coming to the ring Los Angeles, California by way of Cleveland, Ohio! Weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall, this IS, BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

As he reaches the apron of the ring he turns to put his back on the apron and stare back at the entrance ramp that he had just walked down. Throwing his hands up in the air as the chorus hits and the lights simultaneously travel to him in a spot light that he basks in with his eyes closed he then smiles before sliding into the ring on his stomach and makes eye contact with the nearest camera for a bit longer than most would before hopping to his feet and duplicating what he did outside on the apron by leaning against the ropes.

CAMPBELL: ”Here we are with our second tournament match of the evening. We have Jeb Fisher taking on Bryan Laughlin.”

TAYLOR: ”It’s sudden death for either in this matchup as both already have a loss to their names. One more and they’re out of the tournament!”

LAWSON: ”Jeb managed to pick up a win in the first round, taking his first loss two weeks ago in round two. As for Laughlin, he fell to a loss in the first round but managed to stay in it at our last episode with a win in round two.”

CAMPBELL: ”This is it for one person tonight in the tournament. The question we’re all asking ourselves is just who that person will be?”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: From the very beginning, it seemed as if Jeb’s father, Bob, was more into the match than either of the competitors. From ringside, the old man could be heard throughout the arena yelling at the top of his lungs with words of encouragement for his son, or at least that’s what Bob would call them. Ignoring the old buzzard, Jeb and Laughlin lock up in the center of the ring. Using his slight size difference to his advantage, Jeb overpowers Laughlin, lifting him off his feet and throwing him down to the mat with a power slam. As Laughlin pushes himself up to his feet, Jeb runs in from behind and takes his leg out from under him with a dropkick to the back of the knee.

From that moment on, Jeb seized control of the match, wearing Laughlin down with various power moves that at times seemed to bang up the ring more than they did Laughlin. Putting his strength on display for the fans watching, Jeb planted Laughlin into the mat with an Everest German suplex that brought those not standing to their feet. With everyone now on their feet screaming for blood, Jeb awaited patiently as Laughlin slowly pushed himself back up. Rushing in, Jeb caught him by surprise with a swift kick to the gut, forcing him to lunge over which resulted in Jeb wrapping him up and lifting him his above his head. Taking a few steps towards the nearest corner, Jeb threw Laughlin forward, launching him into the air and powerbombing him into the turnbuckle!

LAWSON: ”Jeb is dominating Bryan with ease it seems.”

CAMPBELL: ”The kid has a lot of heart and wants to succeed. With someone like his father on the overseeing his career, I would think it would be hard to fail without serious repercussions.”

TAYLOR: ”He’s still new to the sport but going at it head on like a bull. The man is determined to destroy anything in front of him and it’s showing right now.”

Middle of the Match: After smearing Laughlin’s face against the canvas, Jeb decided to take things to the next level, literally. Climbing the nearest corner, he slowly made his way to the top as his father screamed for him to get down from outside of the ring. Ignoring Bob, Jeb stood tall on the top of the corner, overlooking the crowd. Slapping himself in the sides of the head, he pumped himself up before looking over his shoulder one last time at Laughlin. Leaping backwards away from the corner, he did a backflip and as he came down, his momentum abruptly came crashing to a halt. Rolling out of the way at the last possible split second, Laughlin dodged the moonsault as Jeb slammed against the canvas, smacking his face against it.

With Jeb down, Laughlin fought through his ongoing pains and took the attack right to Jeb’s doorstep. Cradling Jeb, Laughlin began driving rapid knees into his ribcage. Pulling Jeb to his feet, Laughlin put on a suplex clinic for everyone watching in attendance. Wrapping Jeb up from behind, Laughlin lifted the big man off his feet, slamming him onto his head with a German suplex. Jeb refused to stay down after just one and as he stood tall, Laughlin swept in and wrapped him up from the front, picking him up with ease and slamming him onto his back with a belly to belly suplex. Still not staying down, Jeb rushed back to his feet, only to catch a couple of knife edge chops to the chest before Laughlin wrapped him up once more, this time throwing him across the ring with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Again, Jeb defied Laughlin’s attempts at putting him down as he climbed back to his feet. Throwing a haymaker for Laughlin’s head, Jeb missed as Laughlin stepped in behind him and locked in a half nelson. With all of his strength, Laughlin lifted him off of his feet, dropping him on his head again with a half nelson suplex!

Finally, Jeb didn’t attempt to get back to his feet. Rolling Jeb over to his back, Laughlin then made the cover as the official raced in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Shocked at Jeb’s kickout before even a full two count, Laughlin wasted no time and went back to work, wearing the big man down with quick, powerful moves midway through the match.

TAYLOR: ”Jeb might be inexperienced, but the man can surely take a beating!”

LAWSON: ”A man can only take so much and if anyone knows how to bring someone to their breaking point it’s Bryan Laughlin.”

CAMPBELL: ”He has the experience factor over Jeb. Laughlin knows when to get aggressive and when to ease up. That’s something I’ve noticed that Jeb struggles with in the early stages of his wrestling career.”

End of the Match: With Jeb on his feet, Laughlin has him backed against the ropes, laying into him with vicious lefts and rights to the ribs. Taking a few steps back, Laughlin then rushes in, jumping into the air and going for a double knee strike to Jeb’s face. Ducking down, Jeb waits till Laughlin is over him before standing up and lifting him over the top rope. Grabbing onto the top rope, Laughlin uses it to guide himself to landing both feet down to the apron. Drawing back and swinging are hard as he can, Jeb slaps Laughlin across the face, whipping his head to the side. Jeb then turns away and approaches the official, standing fully in his view. On the outside, Bob sneaks in behind Laughlin and goes for a quick low blow but instead, the old man is caught and catches a boot to the face, sending him to the floor. Turning back to Jeb, Laughlin then grabs onto the top rope, jumping up and pulling himself into the air and landing on the top rope with both feet. Springboarding off, Laughlin flies through the air and connects with an elbow strike to the back of Jeb’s head, knocking him forward to the ropes as the official quickly steps out of the way.

Hitting the ropes and off balance, Jeb charges towards Laughlin, taking a swing for the fences as he throws a running right hook. Ducking out of the way, Laughlin steps in behind him and as Jeb turns around, Laughlin kicks his foot into his stomach. Catching Laughlin’s foot, Jeb then spins Laughlin around but as he comes back in full rotation, Laughlin goes for the dragon whip, kicking straight for Jeb’s head! Just as Laughlin’s foot closes in, Jeb locks onto his leg, stopping the foot from connecting within inches! Jeb then pushes forward, backing Laughlin up across the ring as he hops on one foot. Using all of his raw power, Jeb then thrusts his arms forward, lifting Laughlin off his feet and sending him flying through the air before crashing into the corner. Bouncing off the corner, Laughlin then falls into a kick to the gut from Jeb,. forcing him to buckle over. Stepping in beside Laughlin, Jeb lifts him up with a pump-handle before throwing him overhead with a fallaway slam, executing the Conplex!

Circling Laughlin as he rolls back and forth on the mat, Jeb kicks him in the ribs a few times, rolling him over to his stomach. Stepping onto the back of Laughlin’s head, Jeb applies all of his weight onto the one foot, smashing Laughlin’s face into the canvas. Pulling Laughlin up from the mat, Jeb then puts him away for good as he finishes him off with a jumping piledriver, spiking his head straight into the canvas!

CAMPBELL: ”Abandon All Hope!”

LAWSON: ”He’s going to snap someone’s neck doing that one day!”

Crawling over Laughlin, Jeb hooks the leg as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

TAYLOR: ”There you have it ladies and gentlemen, Jeb Fisher will advance in the Octane Championship Tournament!”

LAWSON: ”That’s it for Bryan! This is his second loss and he’s bee completely eliminated! This is a tough blow for him and huge fanbase who thought he would become the face of the Octane brand.”

“Lake Of Fire” hits the speakers as Jeb stands to his feet victorious. Just as the official steps in beside him to raise his arm, Bob rushes in from behind, pushing the official down to the mat. Grabbing his sons arm, Bob proudly lifts it into the air with a shit eating grin stretched from ear to ear.

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, JEB FFIISSHHEERR!!!”

HEADLINE
OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT
VOSSLER VS. CHANSON WEBSTER

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

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

DRAKE: ”And hailing from London, England. Weighing in at two hundred and nine 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.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

“Rock Box” by Run DMC begins to play as the crowd begins to cheer. At the top of the stage Chanson Webster stands holding his name initials with his hands before changing it into nine fingers. He walks back and forth with his skateboard in hand getting the crowd hyped before he holds his skateboard up and taps his chest three times.

Dropping the skateboard Chanson steps on top while taking his hood from over his head. He stands there for a moment looking around at the crowd before a smile creeps up to his lips. Nodding his head he begins to slowly skate down the ramp while holding his hand out to the crowd.

DRAKE: ”Making his way to the ring at this time, CHANSON WWEEBBSSTTEERR!!!”

The crowd continues to cheer as Chanson gets closer to the ring. He stops and signs a few autographs before bending backwards over the guardrail and taking one big selfie with the crowd. Hitting send on the phone he passes it back and salutes toward the crowd. He kicks his skateboard from under his feet before making his way to the steel steps where he takes his hoodie off showing his championship belt around his waist, tapping it and throwing his hoodie into the crowd. He steps up the steel steps and takes a bow before he steps in the ring.

Chanson taps his chest once more before pointing towards the sky. He begins to jog around the ring clapping his hands before stepping up on the turnbuckle where he continues to clap his hand. He steps down from the turnbuckle and sets up in a turnbuckle where he stretches a bit awaiting the bell.

CAMPBELL: ”Up next we have our third and final round three match of the Octane Championship Tournament!”

LAWSON: ”So far we have Amirai Reilley and Jeb Fisher advancing to round four. Who’s going next? Is it going to be Vossler or Chanson?”

TAYLOR: ”That’s a tough question right there? I could see this match going either way. It’s all going to come downto who wants it the most.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: From the sound of the bell, these two brought a level of intensity to the ring that had yet to be seen thus far in the evening. Back and forth, the two exchanged moves in a series of chain wrestling before Vossler finally scored the upper hand, pulling Webster to the canvas with a dragon screw and tweaking his knee in the process. Rolling across the ring and up to one knee, Chanson stood tall but at that very moment, it became very apparent that he was favoring his knee. Taking advantage of the situation, Vossler wasted no time as he went in for the attack, backing Chanson against the ropes with a series of kicks to the legs, trying his best to deliver even more pain to Chanson’s knee. While leaving himself exposed to kicks from the other side, Chanson was at least able to fend off Vossler with his aimed strikes for the knee. Although he favored his knee, Webster was able to keep it safe from attack, but for the first portion of the match, he left himself exposed to an assault with kicks and punches crushing into his body.

TAYLOR: ”If Chanson doesn’t do something about his knee this match is going to be over before it even really takes off.”

LAWSON: ”At this point he’s protecting it from further injury but in the process he’s leaving himself exposed as Vossler refuses to lay off with his vicious attack.”

CAMPBELL: ”Wally better do something pronto if he wants to get back in this thing!”

Middle of the Match: Kicking his foot at Chanson’s chest, Vossler’s momentum quickly comes to a stop as Chanson catches his foot in mid-air and follows up with a quick dropkick to the inside of Vossler’s leg planted to the mat. As both men rise to their feet, Chanson hits Vossler in the mouth with a spinning heel kick that sends him falling back to the ropes. As he comes back on the rebound, Chanson then hits him underneath the chin with a backflip kick, knocking Vossler straight into the air before crashing down onto his back. Now with the momentum shifted, Chanson slowly worked the kink out of his knee as he glides across the ring, hitting Vossler from all sorts of angles with a variation of kicks. After dropping him with a scoop slam, Chanson went for the ropes, leaping into the air and planting both feet onto the middle ropes. After a springboard off the ropes, he flipped backwards through the air before landing across Vossler’s body with a moonsault. Hooking Vossler’s leg, Chanson was only able to get a two count before Vossler escaped the pin. Back on their feet, Chanson went to whip Vossler to the ropes but instead, Vossler reversed the throw and sent Chanson racing to the ropes instead. Upon his return, Vossler ducked to flip him overhead but instead, Chanson went into flight on his own, flipping over Vossler’s back and grabbing ahold of him before slamming him onto his back with a sunset flip. As Vossler’s shoulders were pinned to the canvas, the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TAYLOR: ”Oh, that was a close call!”

LAWSON: ”With only a two count, Vossler was able to kickout of that sunset flip pin combination and keep himself alive in the tournament!”

CAMPBELL: ”They’re both still alive at this point but it’s also sudden death for them. There’s only one spot left in round four and both of these men want it!”

LAWSON: ”But who wants it more?!”

End of the Match: Gaining the upper hand once again, Vossler turned things around in the final moments of the match. Laying down heavily on Chanson with a vicious attack of kicks to the lower legs, Vossler landed one in his gut that forced him to buckle over upon impact. Pulling Chanson’s head between his legs, Vossler then wrapped him up before lifting him into the air for a powerbomb! In the air and looking down at Vossler, Chanson began raining down on Vossler’s head with lefts and rights, ringing Vossler’s bell with each landing blow. Back stepping across the ring, Vossler held Chanson high in the air and before he could execute the powerbomb, Chanson connected with one last right that send Vossler crashing backwards to the mat. Along for the ride, Chanson sat on Vossler’s chest as he slammed against the canvas. With Vossler’s shoulders down, the official raced over with the count as Chanson sat on top of him.

ONE

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.

TWO

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.

THR–

Kicking out at the last split second, Vossler was able to push Chanson off of him. Racing to their feet, Vossler was slow to his, standing long after Chanson and eating a boot to the mouth. With Vossler staggering backwards, Chanson then turned to the ropes behind him an as he returned, he went for a spear, or what he calls The Trendmaker! Side stepping Chanson and lifting his foot up from the mat and elevating his knee, Vossler managed to hit Chanson right between the eyes with a solid knee strike. With Chanson on his back, Vossler waits behind him patiently. Just then, Chanson slowly pushes himself up and as he does, Vossler turns to the ropes. Coming back on the rebound just as Chanson stands tall, Vossler leaps into the air, planting his foot on the back of Chanson’s head and driving him down face first to the canvas with a curb stomp!

LAWSON: ”Orbital Exenteration!”

CAMPBELL: ”What you said!”

Rolling Chanson over to his back, Vossler then makes the cover as the official rushes over for the count.

ONE

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.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

TAYLOR: ”There you have it! Vossler will be our third wrestler making it to round four!”

CAMPBELL: ”This could have been either man’s night but Vossler just proved that he wanted it that much more!”

LAWSON: ”Chanson thought he had him in the right position for The Trendmaker but Vossler dodged that bullet and finished him off once and for all.”

“Tears” hits the speakers as Vossler slowly rises to his feet. Stepping in beside him, the official lifts his arm into the air as the final bell sound.

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, VVOOSSSSLLEERR!!!”

We take the camera to the back once again. We see Dex Russey putting the final touches in his preparation for his match. He’s in his ring gear, stretching his arms out a bit as the cameras get a good shot of his determined face.

RUSSEY: ”You gotta have a closer… If anything playing balls ever taught me was that you gotta have someone that has what it takes to finish the job.“

His eyes rained set forward as he continued to stretch out, this time slowly rolling his shoulders. Her looks about ready for war in this one. The usually impish demeanor people had usually associated with Russey was replaced with a face that wanted nothing more than to win.

RUSSEY: ”Everyone has been trying to define me throughout my time in Octane… At the end of the day the only thing that matters is that the have to call me a winner too…”

The cameras panned in a bit closer as he continued on.

RUSSEY: ”Dex the asshole… Winner.“

He’d raise a single finger in the sky.

RUSSEY: ”Dex the inexperienced… Still a winner.“

Followed by his middle.

RUSSEY: ”Dex the nobody… Well I guess you can’t really be a nobody if people are talking about you… I can keep going on… But ultimately being a winner means I gotta get to work tonight.“

Dex’s face curls a bit into a small devilish smile. He claps his hands a few times before heading for the door of his locker room. With a big swing, he kicks the door wide open before cooly breezing through the doorframe.

RUSSEY: ”CLOCKING IN MOTHERFUCKERS!“

He shouts down the halls as he storms off. The cameras slowly fades and transition us to our next shot.

Christian Jones is walking backstage as the camera follows. Jacky Jones is walking by his side as always. The camera follows them down the corridor but suddenly is knocked back as somebody rushes by, clocking Christian from behind in the back of the knee with a crowbar. As the camera tumbles around a bit before the cameraman regains steadiness the commotion is the only thing emphasized. As the camera regains focus, Eric Lee is standing over Christian Jones, stomping upon him with no motive as to why.

Jacky lets out a yell, but Eric turns around and pushes her into the wall, causing her to hit her head upon it and fall to the floor. Christian reaches his arm out and plants it upon the floor, trying to pull himself to his feet. Lee notices this and quickly turns back around and smashes the crowbar down upon Christian’s back. He buckles and falls back to floor.

Eric Lee drops the crowbar and reaches down, lifting Jones to his feet by the wrist. He stands Jones up and tosses him face first into one of the 4CW prop boxes, causing him to hit against it, slumping over it. Lee reaches out and grabs one of the backstage TV monitors, cocking it up over his head and smashing it down upon Christian Jones head. With the carnage complete, he drops the monitor and looks down at Christian Jones with a smirk. He then turns himself and looks down at Jacky Jones. With a nod of approval to his handy work, he says nothing but walks away with not a single bit of remorse…

TAYLOR: “Well, I don’t what in the hell that was about…”

LAWSON: ”Me neither, it could just be because Eric Lee is a very pissed off and tortured individual!?”

CAMPBELL: ”Either way, Christian Jones is going to need medical attention. That’s for sure!”

LAWSON: ”Did you see that television monitor break over his head? He has to be seeing stars!”

CAMPBELL: ”What about that crowbar to his leg? That’s a sure way to take a big man down!”

TAYLOR: ”… And Jacky Jones is down too. Eric Lee just destroyed a huband and wife power couple in under five minutes!”

LAWSON: ”Hold up, pause… The bigger question is why was he even here?”

MAIN EVENT
TRIPLE THREAT
DEX RUSSEY VS. SATIVA NEVAEH VS. CAROLINE BURCHILL

The opening guitar riffs of “Stranglehold” by The Nuge hits the sound system. The crowd gives an even reaction as the fog machine begins to get the entrance curtain smoky. A small laser show of polychromatic light bounces around the Cabarrus Arena.

“Here I come again now baby

Like a dog in heat

Tell it’s me by the clamor now baby

I like to tap the streets”

DRAKE: “ANNNNNDDDD NOW! Walking his sweet ass down to the ring! From Jersey City… Having had a big brunch and weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen pounds of complete toughass… DEX RRUUSSSSEEYY!!!”

“Now I’ve been smoking for so long

You know I’m here to stay

Got you in a stranglehold baby

You best get out of the way”

Dex walks from the curtains and through the smoke. He turns his ballcap around with the bill facing the back of his head. He then rubs his hands together before cupping them around his mouth. He yells out a loud “OOOOOOOHHHHWEEEEEE!” Before trotting down to the ring and sliding in under the bottom rope. He quickly finds the closest turnbuckle and climbs to the top raising his fist high in the sky. He then hops down and hands it to the official before heading to his corner for the start of the match.

TAYLOR: ”See, this is why I agreed to work for Jimmy Walker. Main event of the evening and it features two of the rosters talented female competitors.”

CAMPBELL: ”Oh god not this again.”

LAWSON: ”Well it’s true Sativa and Caroline are both extraordinarily talented. But don’t count out Dex Russey. Although given his blossoming relationship with Caroline you have to wonder if his head will be fully in this match.”

The lights go out for a moment before the arena is bathed in green light. Two blue Spotlights find the entrance as “Bulletproof” by La Roux kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her arms thrown out wide, welcoming the cheers from the crowd.

DRAKE: “Coming to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, Standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, the Ganja Goddess, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

”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 makes her way down the ramp, towards the ring high fiving as many fans as she can. She circles the ring once giving fans high fives as she does. She then quick steps up the steps and faces out toward the crowd from the ring apron with her arms on the top rope. She bounces once before back flipping over the top rope. She parades around the inside of the ring, playing up for the fans.

”This time, baby, I’ll be

Bulletproof

This time, baby, I’ll be

Bulletproof ”

She makes her way to a corner and climbs to the second rope and once again holds her arms out. The crowd continues to sheer her as she smiles and takes it all in. She jumps down and spins mid air to face the ref and wait for the match to start.

TAYLOR: ”I’m not sure about Russey but what I know is that Sativa Nevaeh is no joke. She’s an extremely talented former champion on Adrenaline and you know she’s willing to go to any lengths to win. Remember that match with Johnny Evil at Winter Wasteland?”

CAMPBELL: ”I wish she would have thrown that stupid baby in an ocean.”

LAWSON: ”Do you ever have anything positive to say about anyone, Chris?”

The red and white colors of the lighting flash to the heavy hip-hop beats of Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne’s single ‘Changed It’, signaling the arrival of the infamous Immaculate One. As if on cue, the fans roar with boos and jeers, although their attempts at provoking the woman would be futile. Soon, a lone red light shines down on the center of the stage and Caroline O’Hara Burchill would walk out to stand within it. Like hail relentlessly raping against a window, the volume of the booing would reach an intense peak. The signature smug smile of Caroline would be present and she’d slowly spin around, almost as if taking pleasure in the immense hatred being presented for her. She laughs and makes her way down the ramp, hardly acknowledging any of the insolent fans.

DRAKE: ”Hailing from Sydney, Australia, she is ‘The Immaculate One’… CAROLINE O’HARA BBUURRCCHHIILLLL!!!”

As she reaches the ring, she looks at her surrounding. The hostile environment was nothing to her and she simply continued on with her egotistical swagger, climbing up onto the apron and entering the ring through the middle ropes. She scales the turnbuckle, looking around as she sees the fans showing great disdain towards her. She then smiles as the fans boo, climbing down and resting in the corner as she waits for the match to get underway.

CAMPBELL: ”I do, Joe. Caroline O’Hara Burchill is one match away from becoming the Queen of Octane. This isn’t it. This is called a tune up match. One of those where you fed two idiots to a monster to make sure it’s ready.”

LAWSON: ”I wouldn’t go so far as to call Caroline a monster, or to label this a tune up match, Chris.”

TAYLOR: ”Whatever you want to call it it’s going to be a good one because… it’s our MAIN EVENT! Let’s go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell rings the three competitors begin to move to the center of the ring though the closer they get to each other the more clear it becomes that two of them, Dex and Caroline, are angling to work together and take Sativa out. Being a veteran of the ring, Sativa immediately recognizes it and takes a step back. Giving herself a clear path to get away if need be, but also showing no real desire to back down from either of them. She steadies herself and takes a deep breath, ready to brawl until…

CCCCRRRRRAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!

Burchills foot shot out of nowhere and connected flush with the jaw of Dex Russey, a beautiful super kick that flattens him and leaves him seeing stars. Burchill wastes no time after the move hits in launching herself at Sativa as the crowd explodes, loving what they had just seen happen. It’s a bit out of her element to be so aggressive, usually choosing to be more methodical, but perhaps that was her intent in catching Sativa off guard. A forearm smash stumbles the former 4CW Extreme champion and a snap DDT lays her out completely. It’s only then that Caroline takes a moment to pause, smirking and talking shit to Sativa, kicking her in the head a few times as she did so.

Burchill then looks to the fallen Dex and hesitates to attack him before turning back and dragging Sativa up to her feet by her hair. The moments hesitation apparently was all Sativa needed to clear her head, connecting with a quick elbow to the jaw of Caroline, stunning her back before dropping her with a shoulder block that flattened Caroline, followed up by an elbow drop to the sternum and a quick cover from Sativa.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

TAYLOR: ”Good early action by the two beautiful women in the ring after Caroline nearly tore Russey’s head off with that super kick. That’s the kind of ruthless attitude needed from the person who is going to be the first ever Octane Champion.”

LAWSON: ”But Caroline is going to have to focus and not hesitate. She had all the momentum early in the match and that one single half seconds worth of hesitation was all Sativa needed to recover enough to get herself back into the match.”

CAMPBELL: ”I have nothing to add. If you two are just going to sit here and talk for hours I’m going to take a nap.”

Sativa, after pulling Caroline back up to her feet, began to engage in a test of wills as she and Caroline traded strikes back and forth, neither one stumbling backward and neither one seemingly willing to give an inch. Meanwhile, Dex slowly began to find himself again, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs and pushing himself back to his feet. As Caroline and Sativa continued to try to knock the other down, Dex got fully up to a vertical base and charged across the ring, spearing Sativa down to the mat and mounting her, unloading with rights and lefts until she managed to cover up and use her hips to roll him off of her.

Standing back, Caroline leaned in the corner and watched in amusement while Dex took over the fight. That is, until Sativa rolled him off of her and Dex flipped back up to his feet and turned his attention to her, leaping into the air and splashing across her with a perfect body splash. Allowing Caroline to stumble out of the corner, Dex quickly connected with a european uppercut that knocked Caroline down to the mat. Dex immediately went for the cover but Sativa was quick to dive across his back, breaking up the pinfall attempt.

She then stood, pulling Dex up to his feet by his long, luscious flowing locks of hair and sent him running into the ropes. On the rebound Sativa telegraphed a back body drop which Dex leap frogged. On the next rebound, however, he isn’t so lucky as Sativa turned and caught him, flipping him around and dropping him down across her thigh with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Clutching his back, Dex flopped across the ring in pain before rolling himself to the outside as Sativa stood with all the momentum in her favor and the crowd very much loving every second of it.

TAYLOR: ”Perfectly executed back body drop by Sativa there while Caroline recovers after Dex caught her by surprise..”

LAWSON: ”This is a lively one folks and the fans are loving every second of it. Can’t say I blame them for getting behind Sativa either. Her attitude has truly changed a lot in the last few weeks and she’s a lot more enjoyable to be around.”

CAMPBELL: ”Oh yeah, Joe? Spend a lot of time with her do ya? What insider passed that little snippet of top secret information along to you?”

Caroline, having recovered, draws herself back up as once more Sativa turns her attention in the direction of the woman who will challenge for the Octane Championship. This time she’s a bit more careful in her approach with the former Extreme champion, taking her time and lacing a brutal snap kick to the inside of Sativa’s knee that causes it to buckle. Nevaeh catches herself and is able to push herself back up to her feet before the submission specialist could pounce. Patiently, Caroline waits until Sativa tries to strike and instead catches her by her arm, dragging her down to the mat and transitioning into an arm bar. Sensing the danger, however, Sativa quickly wriggles her arm free before Caroline can lock in the submission hold and a moment later both women are back to their feet with smiles on their faces.

Meanwhile, Dex collects himself and joins the action as the three begin to trade blows, neither giving an inch until Dex waits for Caroline to land a hard right hand to Sativa and then turn to do the same to him. As he does so he dodges, grabs onto her arm and then whips her into the ropes quickly. When she returns he pops her up into the air and then lines everything up perfectly driving her down to the at with a cutter. GADGET CUTTER! Sativa then as Dex gets back to his feet, catches him with a boot to the stomach. GOT EM! She’s quick to cover, recognizing that the opportunity for the victory is there for the taking. All around the Cabarrus Arena the fans explode as the referee slides in to count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

At the last second the referee waves off the pinfall as Dex slipped his foot over the bottom rope. Sativa, heartbroken, sits back on her knees and runs her fingers through her hair, cursing under her breath before getting back to her feet. All of the momentum in the world is in her favor yet again, as it had been so often throughout the match, but still the win has evaded her up to that point. Dragging Dex away from the ropes she decides to once again try for the pinfall, knowing that most don’t get up when she hits the move she had just laid him out with.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

TAYLOR: ”Somehow Russey managed to kick out at the last possible moment. Unfortunate for Sativa and quite lucky for Caroline.”

CAMPBELL: ”SEXY DEXY THAT A BOY!”

LAWSON: ”Did you just call another dude sexy?”

CAMPBELL: ”…. no homo?”

Frustrated, Sativa gets back to her feet and drags Dex along with her once more as well. Sensing danger, a dazed Dex does all he can to stomp down on Sativa’s toes causing her to wince and pull her foot out of the way, relinquishing her hold on his hair at the same time. Dex, in a snakelike motion that would make American Tommy’s most hated enemies proud, slithers away from the action to try and recover as much as possible. Shrugging it off, Sativa turns to Caroline who has just started to climb back to her feet. Viciously Sativa pummels her fist directly into Carolines skull. She absorbs the blows as her limbs hang loosely, only being held up with the assistance of Sativa who is clearly considering hitting her second GOT EM of the night. But the twinkle in her eye tells everyone that deep down she really wants to make the woman who prides herself on her submissions tap.

As Sativa prepares to put the match away, she wraps Caroline up only for the world to suddenly see a farm come flashing up between the legs of Nevaeh. Though it’s not comfortable it doesn’t have the same effect that it might have had if Dex had been using the maneuver on, say, a male competitor. Sativa releases Caroline and turns around to Dex, grabbing him by his ears before pulling her head back to drive it into his face. However, Caroline quickly halts the attempt by grabbing Sativa by her hair. CONQUEROR! Viciously Caroline drives the back of Sativa’s head down onto her knee and then stares directly into the eyes of the man she had been spending time with.

For a moment the two continue to stare at each other before both of them take off towards the ropes that had been behind them. Sprinting at each other Caroline leaps into the air before Dex could do anything. Wrapping her arm around his neck she spins and drives him down into the mat with a DDT, transitioning from the DDT immediately into a crossfire chickening right in the middle of the ring. KILLER QUEEN! The crowd implores Dex to fight off the hold but Sativa is out and not looking like she’s going to recover any time soon and he’s stuck without anywhere to go. Eventually the pain becomes to much and his hand slaps the mat in submission.

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

DRAKE: “Here is your winner by submission… THE NEW CLASSIC….. CAROLINE… O’HARA… BBUURRCCHHIILLLL!!!”

The referee raises her arm in victory and her smirk says it all, although she shows some concern for the fallen Dex.

CAMPBELL: ”Well there you have it folks, Caroline Burchill continues her dominance of Octane and proving why she just may in fact be the face of the new brand.”

LAWSON: ”She’s been on quite a tear, that’s for sure.”

TAYLOR: ”I’m interested to see how this affects things between her and Dex.”

CAMPBELL: ”Who cares! I’m interested to see who wins round four and squares off with her with the Octane Championship on the line.”

TAYLOR: ”The final three have been determined. In two weeks Amirai Reilley, Jeb Fisher, and Vossler will all go head to head in a triple threat in which the winner will then advance to the finals to meet Caroline with it all on the line.”

LAWSON: ”She has one more show to go before the championship match. If Caroline can score another win in two weeks, she’ll have the momentum leading into the final match, maybe even too much momentum for anyone to handle.”

CAMPBELL: ”We’ll see about that! But until then, we’re out of time folks. From 4CW and the announce team here for Octane, goodnight!”

TAYLOR: ”Goodnight!”

LAWSON: ”See you all at Octane Episode Four!”