OCTANE E04 (109)

CABARRUS ARENA JULY 21ST, 2017 CONCORD, NC

PRE-SHOW
ZION VS. KEEGAN RYAN

Starting the night for those in attendance, Zion and Keegan begin in a pre-show match. Looking like a new man, Keegan Ryan comes straight out of the gate, catching Zion by surprise and dropping him with a double arm DDT. Back and forth, the match went between the two. Finding a few openings here and there, Zion managed to squeeze in a few punches but just as soon as he went to lift Keegan with a vertical suplex, Keegan delivered an elbow into Zion’s ear. Taking advantage of the situation, Keegan then takes Zion down to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Before things carry on too long, Keegan then ends with a running stomp to the back of Zion’s head as he pushes himself up to all fours. Connecting with the Lights Out, Keegan was then able to put Zion away for the three count, getting himself a much needed win.

WINNER: Keegan Ryan (7:12)

“1000hp” plays over the Cabarrus Arena as the show opens to an overhead shot from inside. Scanning the crowd, the camera shows a full house tonight as we head into the fourth installment of 4CW’s Octane. In the crowd, a few signs are focused on as the music continues playing in the background.

WE WANT TIM BACK

WHO WILL FACE
QUEEN CAROLINE

RIP ADRIAN TANNER JUNIOR

SUCK THIS
CLOWN DICK

CON-VER-SATE

As the camera’s pan around the arena and finally focus on the ring the opening chords of Avenged Sevenfold’s “Gunslinger” reverberate around the arena. For the first time in a month Jimmy Walker appears on 4CW television and it’s to open the fourth episode of Octane. Dressed in a black suit with a white button up dress shirt and his token cowboy hat adoring his head, Jimmy walks down the ramp slowly to the ring. The fans buzz with anticipation as he methodically makes his way over to the steel steps that lead up and into the ring. Quickly, once on the ring apron, Jimmy steps through the ropes and into the ring, retrieving a microphone from a staff member working at the timekeepers table. Moments later his music fades as he paces around the ring slowly.

WALKER: ”Ladies and gentlemen… Welcome… To… OCCCCTTTTAAAANNNNEEEE!!”

The fans erupt as he pauses, clapping for them politely as they cheer for the show that has been primarily stationed just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina.

WALKER: ”For wrestling fans, and especially fans of this company, this has been a difficult week. One of our own, a man who a few short weeks ago was main eventing Ante Up for a shot at the 4CW Championship, Adrian Tanner Junior, lost his life. Now, I didn’t know Adrian very well. We spoke briefly on one or two occasions but if you look around this company, and this industry, his impact is clearly seen.”

The fans, who had been cheering earlier, fall silent respectfully for the fallen superstar. Jimmy nods his head appreciatively before clearing his throat and speaking again.

WALKER: ”This company would not be in the position it is in, with the plethora of talent it has, if it weren’t for the contributions of The Arizona Assassin himself. And so I’ve been thinking about how Octane, a brand which he never competed on, could rightly honor the man in this difficult time. I can’t give an emotional speech about what an amazing person he was. I barely knew him. And while Perry might decide to go further and recognize and honor him to a greater extent with the Adrenaline brand, I think it would be appropriate for the first pay per view featuring the Octane roster to be dedicated to the memory of Tanner. And so, in just two weeks time, when the world watches with anticipation to see who will be crowned the very first Octane Champion, they’ll do so at a show named Emergence dedicated to one of the most dedicated competitors this business has ever seen.”

Pausing once more, the fans gave appreciative applause to the announcement, beginning to buzz with excitement over the announcement of the upcoming shows name.

WALKER: ”This one will be for you, Adrian. Rest in peace, wherever you are.”

Octane cuts to a large backstage corridor. We get a quick glimpse of a multitude of 4CW staff all lined up against the wall of said corridor. All kinds of employees, from the ring crew to the sound technicians to the catering crew are all there. The reason for their presence at DA BIG WALL? Well that would be due to the two men known as Dirk Dickwood and Cecilworth Farthington. Dirk is marching up and down the corridor, peering at all of the random smattering of employees as Cecilworth stands behind his manager, a wad of cash in one hand, a cane in the other.

DICKWOOD: ”Okay, here’s the deal, I need to conduct an investigation and you… worthless blue collars fucksticks are going to be my sample size.”

CATERER: ”I don’t have to stay here to get abused!”

DICKWOOD: ”But you will for twenty precious American dollars straight from my client’s massive paw to your paltry palm, won’t you, you pathetic mess?”

CATERER: ”Well… maybe not twenty… “

Cecilworth licks his thumb and begins counting out some money.

FARTHINGTON: ”Twenty buckeroos not enough for you Chunky Chunkleton? You drive a hard bargain… how about… TEN DOLLARS”

Dirk covers Cecilworth’s mouth with his hand.

DICKWOOD: ”You’re all getting twenty. This won’t take long, I just need a quick yes or no answer from all four of you, The Chucklefuck Squad.”

Finished addressing the workers, Dirk tidies himself up, spins around on his heel and faces the camera.

DICKWOOD: ”Hello Octane viewing audience fans! Today I am here to conduct a basic scientific study. You see, MAH BOY’S opponent for this week seems to pride himself on sticking up for the little guy. He wears his averagosity on his sleeve and brands himself as “The Average Man” . So I grabbed a smattering of 4CW’s inferior blue collar backstage staffs to question them whether they consider themselves average or not. Let’s start with ole Catery McLumpy over there, since he spoke up first.”

Cecilworth points his cane at the caterer.

FARTHINGTON: ”You sir, do you consider yourself average?”

CATERER: ”Average? Hell no! I’ve got a band man… we’re going to…”

The caterer is cut off by Dickwood making very large shushing noises as Cecilworth points his cane to indicate that the caterer should leave the corridor. Cecilworth balls up a bunch of green monies and tosses it the caterers face, who dutifully scrambles to pick it up as he leaves the scene. Dickwood observes this scene.

DICKWOOD: ”It’s sad isn’t it? The little guy that John Gabriel purports to support is just as desperate for stardom and cash as he accuses me and my perfect client of being.”

FARTHINGTON: ”HA! That dude fell over! Jiggly wiggly!”

Cecilworth brings attention to the fact that the caterer has collapsed to the concrete as he attempted to scoop up all the floor money.

DICKWOOD: ”I’m not even going to waste my time conversing with the rest of you miserable wreckages of human failures. We’re doing a speedround. Simple yes or nos. Ring crew man, are you average?”

RINGCREW WORKER: ”No, sir”

DICKWOOD: ”What of you sound technician?”

SOUND TECH: ”I wouldn’t say so.”

DICKWOOD: ”What of you surprisingly oiled backstage male masseur?”

MASSEUR: ”Not me, Dirkypoo!”

Dickwood turns back to the camera. As he does so, Cecilworth tosses his wad of cash air in the air. The staff begin scrambling with each other to try and grab anything they can get their paws on, stomping down on the caterer as they do so.

DICKWOOD: ”I’m satisfied with this scientific experiment. See, that’s the thing John, your “constituency” , the people you think you are stand up for. They aren’t angry at me and Cecilworth, they aren’t enraged at the enriched. They want to be us. They are all future millionaires in their own heads. No man considers himself average Jonno, no man wants to be aligned with your crusade against the opulent. They want to pull themselves up by their bootstraps in the briefest of brief hopes that they become the next Cecilworth Farthington. They want the lifestyle, they want the fame and as you can see from the shitshow happening behind me right now, they want the moolah. Your entire career is a farce and a sham!”

Some members of backstage security rush into the scene, almost begin to break things up but end up joining in the fight, try to grasp some cash of their own.

DICKWOOD: ”Oh, one last thing before we go. The saying is “silver spoon in his mouth” , not “silver spoon in his hand” you dreadlocked shitehawk. BABIES DON’T HAVE THE ABILITY TO GRIP YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER WORTHLESS NON EVENT OF A HUMAN BEING!”

Cecilworth hands gesture for his manager to cool his jets for a few moments.

FARTHINGTON: ”I’ll totes see you in the ring later Johnjohn. You’ll get to see first hand what wealth gets ya.”

We fade out on a grinning Farthington as Dickwood fumes in the background.

OPENING
ZEEL PARK VS. DEX RUSSEY

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

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 foot nine, 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.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

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 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.

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: Using his size advantage early on, Dex was able to get the upper hand on Zeel after a quick tie up to start things off. Catching Zeel with two back to back European uppercuts, he then connected with a haymaker that nearly dropped Zeel to his knees. Giving Zeel no chance to even get in any offense, Dex kept a close distance, pounding at Zeel’s body with lefts and rights. With a swift knee to the gut, Dex forces Zeel to buckle over and then to follow things up, Dex drops him head first intothe canvas with a snap DDT! From the start Zeel looked to be in trouble as Dex remained on the offensive, taking quick jabs and landing power punches when the opportunities presented themselves. Hitting the ropes, Dex really kicked things up a notch after landing a bicycle kicked that sent Zeel stumbling backwards across the ring and into the corner. Quick to get back to his feet, Dex then followed up with a devastating move to really put a hurting on Zeel. Lifting Zeel into the air, Dex then powerbombed him right into the corner, back first before be bounced off and landing directly on his head.

TAYLOR: ”Dex is really in control of things right from the jump.”

CAMPBELL: ”He has a very noticeable size difference compared to Zeel. He simply just over powered him from the start and hasn’t given him room to fight back.”

LAWSON: ”Zeel better do something quickly before this thing gets too carried away.”

Middle of the Match: With Zeel down on the mat, Dex shiows off some of his baseball skills as he rebounds off the ropes and slides in feet first, driving both into the side of Zeel’s head. Popping back to his feet, Dex takes things to the corner and quickly rushes to the top, leaving Zeel behind on his back not far from the corner. Leaping straight into the air, Dex comes down with a frogsplash, eating nothing but canvas as Zeel rolls out of the way at the last second. As both men remain down on the mat, the official begins his ten count. After getting up to the count of seven, Zeel rises to his feet first and goes straight to work. Running in towards Dex, Zeel stomps on the back of his head, slamming Dex’s face into the canvas. He then jumps straight up and comes down directly on Dex’s back with a double foot stomp. Rolling Dex over to his back, Zeel then drops down onto him and begins ringing his bell with lefts and rights from the mounted position. After a few minutes of wearing Dex down, Zeel pulls him up to his feet and connects with a spinning backfist that knocks Dex into the ropes. As Dex rebounds off the ropes, Zeel rushes in and leaps forward, leveling him with a leaping forearm smash.

LAWSON: ”Zeel’s turned things around from what looked to be a one sided beat down early in the match.”

CAMPBELL: ”If Dex would have just stuck with what he was doing and not gone to the skies, he could very well still be in charge of this match right now as we speak.”

TAYLOR: ”Dex is still learning as he goes along, like quite a few others we have on Octane. It’s not always a good thing to go for big moves like that and I’m sure this is a lesson he will learn from.”

End of the Match: As we head into the closing moments of the match, Dex ducks a spin wheel kick attempt from Zeel, giving himself an opportunity of a lifetime. Catching Zeel from behind, Dex hits him in the back of the head with a drop kick that sends him stumbling forward into the corner. As he pops back up to his feet, Dex charges towards the corner and as he closes in and goes to slam against Zeel, Zeel places both hands on the top ropes and jumps into the air, pushing himself up and out as he clears over Dex’s head. Dex crashes into the corner but as he bounces off, he spins around and catches Zeel with an elbow shot to the mouth just as he touches back down to the canvas. Pulling Zeel’s head down, Dex then wraps it up and grabs onto the back of his pants, lifting Zeel upside down into the air for a suplex. Squirming out of Dex’s grip, Zeel drops down to his feet behind Dex and shoves him in the back, sending him a few steps forward as he stops in the center of the ring. Zeel races in and takes a swing for Dex’s head just as he turns around. Catching Zeel’s arm, Dex then pulls him in for a short-arm clothesline. Ducking underneath Dex’s arm, Zeel jumps up and wraps himself around Zeel’s body, rolling across his back and back over his head. Hooking Dex’s head, Zeel then plants it into the canvas with a float over DDT! The crowd pops at the sight of the move. Back on his feet, Zeel bounces around the ring with a newfound excitement. He then locks his sights on Dex who is slowly starting to climb to his feet in a daze. Just as Dex stands, Zeel then races in and dives forward, dropping his shoulder and driving it into Dex’s stomach and spearing him in the center of the ring. Hooking Dex’s leg, Zeel rolls over his body with his back resting against him for the pin as the official rushes in with the count.

CAMPBELL: ”Brick Out!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

TAYLOR: ”There you have it! Zeel Park has picked up his second win since debuting two weeks ago.”

LAWSON: ”In the final moments there I didn’t know what to expect. Back and forth, back and forth, these two were trying to one up the other.”

CAMPBELL: ”That was until Zeel outsmarted Dex and finished him off!”

“I’m Not Sorry” hits the speakers as Zeel rises to his feet and the official raises his arm into the air for the victory.

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

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

Octane cuts to the backstage of the Cabarrus Arena and a waiting Gabriel Hartman.

HARTMAN: ”I’m joined by the man who will be headlining Octane: The Whirlwind Wunderkind, Tornado Desencadenado.”

The camera pulls back to reveal TD, already in his ring gear, standing to Gabe’s left. He gives the audience a slight smile.

HARTMAN: ”Your opponent tonight, Caroline Burchill, is currently undefeated in Four Corners Wrestling, What makes you think you can succeed where eight other wrestlers have failed?”

DESENCADENADO: “It will be a challenge; I won’t deny that. Caroline Burchill has beaten everyone put in front of her; and that list includes some impressive names. If I want to win I’m going to have to rely on my power advantage to keep her from locking in one of her submissions.”

HARTMAN: ”You can’t think brute strength is going to be enough to defeat a wrestler as skilled and ruthless as Burchill?”

DESENCADENADO: “No, but it plays a key part. I need to put Caroline continually off balance ; and the way to do that is by knocking her around the ring. That’s what my offense is based on; using centrifugal and centripetal forces to ragdoll whoever it is I’m fighting. I don’t just call myself Tornado to honor my family; I try and live up to the name in the ring too.”

HARTMAN: ”How important is winning this match for you?”

DESENCADENADO: “It’s huge for my career here in Octane. If I can get the victory tonight, I think I have to be considered among the top talents in the company, and deserving of a chance to eventually compete for the Octane Championship. That’s why I’m taking this match so seriously. I’ve watched every second of footage available on my opponent. I’ve picked the brain of my tag partner and mentor, Trixie, who has faced and beaten Caroline in Redemption Fed just a few weeks ago. With her help, I think I am as prepared as I have ever been.”

Gabriel nods, seemingly satisfied with the reply.

HARTMAN: ”Tornado Desencadenado, thanks for your time. Best of luck tonight.”

Octane then resumes broadcasting from ringside.

UNDERCARD
DEUCE HOLMES VS. AMANI MSHAMBULIAJI

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

The lights dim as “I Wanna Be Your Dog” by Iggy Pop hits the speakers.

DRAKE: ”Coming to the ring at this time by way of Hakodate-Shi Hokkaido, Japan… DEUCE HHOOLLMMEESS!!!”

Making his way down to the ring, Deuce slides underneath the bottom rope before walking to his corner and patiently awaiting his opponent.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

The sound of gunshots popping off fill the arena, followed by the wailing of police sirens. The sound of tires screeching and car doors opening and slamming fills the arena, followed by the opening marching cadence of “Jesus Walks” by Kanye West.

DRAKE: ”Making his way to the ring, hailing from Charm City, Maryland… Weighing in at two hundred and thirteen pounds, and standing at six foot three inches, it’s AMANI MMSSHHAAMMBBUULLIIAAJJII!!!”

Amani steps out onto the entrance ramp, puts his hands together in the prayer pose he’s known for, then makes his way down to the ring. He makes his way up to the apron, ducks underneath the top rope, then makes the same prayer pose.

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: From the sound of the bell, Amani took the fight straight to Deuce’s front doorstep. Cornering him with a series of kicks to the legs, Amani turns what was scheduled to be a wrestling match into an MMA bout. Deuce tried his best to defend himself from Amani’s attacks but just couldn’t keep up with his opponents quickness. Catching Deuce off guard, Amani connected with an elbow right between the eyes, bringing stars to Deuce’s eyes before falling backwards into the corner. With his arms draped over the top ropes to each of his sides, Deuce held himself up involuntary, leaving his torso exposed for Amani to go to work.

TAYLOR: ”What is Deuce doing out there?”

CAMPBELL: ”Pretending to be a punching bag?”

LAWSON: ”You’re not wrong about that one bit.”

Middle of the Match: Still working Deuce in the corner, Amani rings his bell a second with a spinning back fist to the temple. Pulling Deuce away from the corner, Amani positioned himself to slam Deuce into the turnbuckle with a snap suplex! Moment pass as Amani transitions into a ground and pound attack. Cradling Deuce, Amani begins driving rapid knees into his ribs relentlessly. Although Deuce puts up little to no struggle whatsoever, Amani continues his assault rather than go for a pin. After rolling Deuce onto his back and mounting himself on top, Amani connects with nearly a dozen punches, one after the other, undefended by Deuce as his face provides a soft landing spot for his fists to land.

LAWSON: ”If Deuce doesn’t do something, like maybe block a single punch, then someone might as well just throw in the towel.”

TAYLOR: ”Amani hasn’t let up since the opening bell. With the beating Deuce is taking, he’s going to fell the bumps and bruises for days to follow tonight’s match.”

End of the Match: Back on his feet, Amani paces the ring as Deuce slowly rolls back and forth along the mat, unable to even push himself back to his feet as well. Assisting with the task at hand, Amani pulls Deuce up but quickly wraps him up and takes hjim back to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. After connecting with The Baretta Suplex, a wrist clutch exploder suplex, moments later Amani grows tired of the fight Deuce fails to deliver. Pulling Deuce up from the mat, Amani then whips him into the corner with force. Hitting the corner and bouncing off, Deuce stumbles into a vicious running superman punch.

CAMPBELL: ”The Gunshot!”

With Deuce laid out unconscious, Amani finally makes the cover, this time putting him away for good as the officials hand begins to slap the canvas.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, AMANI MMSSHHAAMMBBUULLIIAAJJII!!!”

The screens spring to life. We see Vossler backstage, seated in a familiar position. Gabriel Hartman sits opposite of him. The backstage area is decorated to look like a movie interview. Vossler is wearing one of his own merchandise shirts as opposed to Gabriel’s neat suit.

HARTMAN: “Vossler, thank you for your time!”

Hartman wastes little time starting the interview.

VOSSLER: “My pleasure. It’s been a pretty while, hasn’t it? First time you interviewed me they… didn’t want to air it.”

Vossler smiles with a demeaning grin while Hartman chuckles awkwardly, implying he had something to do with it.

HARTMAN: “Well, this’ll be different. We’re here backstage at Octane 04, direct feed to the big screens… You’ve got a loser’s bracket finale later tonight. The victor of this match will face Caroline Burchill. Her match will be before yours, will you be stuck to the monitor for it?”

The response starts with a grin.

VOSSLER: “No. I simply cannot spare the time in preparation for a much more important match. No disrespect to Tornado Desencadenado, but our match will determine something far more important than a cannon-fodder match. And whoever walks out of my match gets –“

Vossler pauses as the curtains darkening the area open up for a moment. We suddenly see Angeleo step through, the same man who was here just a few weeks ago to inform Vossler of his bill. He’s holding a lead pipe. Hartman hasn’t turned around just yet with a horrific expression on his face.

Angeleo taps the lead pipe on Hartman’s shoulder, scoffing.

LEO: “Suit. Get off your ass and fuck off. Pronto.”

HARTMAN: “Y-Yes sir.”

Hartman scurries from the scene while Angeleo takes the director’s chair opposite of Vossler. His biker is straightened and he sniffs, looking to the camera crew behind the hardware.

LEO: “I don’ need ‘ta explain what you lads gotta do, do I? Keep ’em rolling.”

Angeleo’s head slowly, almost demonically turns to Vossler. The lead pipe in his hand has been tapping into his other hand. A demonic grimace has curved onto his scarred face.

LEO: “So… let’s continue then. Phi– excuse me. Vossler! Do you think you have what it takes to win this match?”

Vossler is cold, a dead stare at Angeleo.

VOSSLER: “I know I’ve got what it takes to win. I’ve always had what it fuckin’ takes.”

LEO: “Good! Good, ‘cus boy… I’d hate to have to beat your skull in with my lil’… toy here.”

VOSSLER: “You wouldn’t get the fucking chance.”

LEO: “Oh, I don’t need a chance. I just need a matter of seconds. I could do it right now. Who would stop me? Those bitch boys behind the camera? They’re pissin’ their goddamn boots an atlantic’s worth o’ piss with me just being here. Who else, ‘eh?”

Vossler snarls, pure disdain reading off of his face.

VOSSLER: “I’ve never needed anyone… ANYONE! I’ve been all-ah-fucking-lone since day one that I stepped into this world!”

Vossler rises out of his chair, slowly approaching Angeleo.

VOSSLER: “No fucking lead pipe can scare me, not a fuckin’ baseball bat with wire, not a fuckin’ gun, not your fuckin’ mob! You come in here to expect me to sink into my chair like a black hole is sucking me up but you, right now, wish the ground would swallow your being fuckin’ whole!”

Vossler is almost face-to-face with Angeleo at this point.

VOSSLER: “Your million doesn’t scare me, your pointless threats don’t scare me, and you of all people… a frail old man, a shell of the legend he used to be. You’re the militia they’ve sent to try and scare me?”

Angeleo slowly backs into his chair, forgetting the pipe as it drops to the floor and rolls off slowly.

VOSSLER: “Let me remind you of who the fuck I am, yeah? I am Philippe fucking Chiari. I am Vossler. Motherfucker, I am the King of the fuckin’ city! The only reason you’re going to be walking out of this place is because I want someone to relay the message! The king never died! The king has always been here, inside me! And oh-boy, you thought I was shook the moment you walked in here. You wave your piece of paper around with those wonderful 7 digits but you can’t even comprehend what I’m capable of to get that money.”

Vossler’s saliva is flying off, hitting Angeleo in the face who’s leaning back in his chair now trying to dodge it.

VOSSLER: “The difference, Angeleo, between you and I is that when I show up at your doorstep I don’t have a threat in mind. I come to your doorstep with murder in mind and walk about with you bitches’ only other solution being a 1 million dollar fuckin’ bill! You speak of some code of the streets as if I’m supposed to respect anything you’ve got to say when you bastards can’t even utter respect as a form to describe what you have for yourself!”

Angeleo’s hand stops Vossler from approaching as now Angeleo rises out of his seat, but with intent to back off.

LEO: “Alright… alright.”

Slowly, he backs out to the curtain behind him again.

LEO: “See? I’m leaving. I’m leaving… slowly. Leaving.”

Step by step he reassures his departure, but as he grabs the curtain to pull it aside.

LEO: “You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

And so he disappears, leaving the fuming Vossler with nothing but rage to show for it. He turns to the camera crew who captured all of this, and signals for them to cut the feed.

We cut backstage to see Sativa pacing around her locker room. She stops and, with a sigh, throws her hands up in exasperation.

NEVAEH: ”I just fucking can’t even!”

Sativa freezes in place after tilting her head to the side in thought.

NEVAEH: ”Did I really just fucking say that? This shit has me acting all ‘basic white girl’ now? That’s it, time to get to the bottom of this shit.”

She moves over to the small table and picks up her vape pen. She starts puffing on it as she exits the locker room. She looks down the hallway in both directions before deciding to head towards her right. She takes a few random turns. All the while she seems to be looking for someone or something.

She comes across of a couple of roadies. She takes a puff off of her vape pen and then gets their attention.

NEVAEH: ”Hey guys. Do either of you happen to know anything about this bitch I’m facing tonight? Likes to call herself Succubus.”

The guys look at each other then back at Sativa and shake their heads.

NEVAEH: ”You sure?”

ROADIE: ”Yeah. We know probably less than you.”

NEVAEH: ”Fuck!”

Sativa thanks the guys as she continues her trek through the backstage area. She rounds a corner and sees none other than Gabriel ‘Homeless’ Hartman. She freezes in panic for a second before trying to find someplace to hide. Hartman, who was looking at some papers he was carrying, looks up and sees Sativa. His face lights up and he picks up his pace towards her.

HARTMAN: ”Sativa! SATIVA!!”

Sativa stops moving, shaking her head while throwing a little fit.

NEVAEH: ”Fuck!”

She turns to face Hartman fully and plasters a huge fake smile on her face.

NEVAEH: ”Oh, Hiya Gabe!”

Dropping the act she meets Gabe about halfway of the original distance. She puts her arm around him pulling him in and speaking low, conspiratorially, with him.

NEVAEH: ”Gabe, you know like, everything about everyone! What you got on this Lilin bitch? Come on give me something to work with.”

Sativa starts rapid fire puffing on her vape waiting for Hartman.

HARTMAN: ”Thank you for that. Actually, I know quite a bit about her. You see, she started wrestling in 2011. When she started she…”

Hartman is cut off by a coughing fit from Sativa. She doubles over, coughing and trying to catch her breath. Once she does she straightens up and looks at Hartman through bleary eyes.

NEVAEH: ”Gabe!? Was I supposed to do some kind of interview?”

Hartman looks at her confused. He opens his mouth to ask her something but stops himself. He then just answers her current question.

HARTMAN: ”No. But since we are here with a camera might as well. If you are up for it, that is?”

Sativa starts to look around.

NEVAEH: ”There is a camera here?”

Before she actually sees the camera she shrugs and looks back at Hartman.

NEVAEH: ”Sure, I could answer a few things. Why not?”

HARTMAN: ”Thank you again Sativa. First off, what are your thoughts heading into this match on the ‘go home’ show for Octane before their first big event?”

Sativa coughs again but tries to play it off as clearing her throat.

NEVAEH: ”The Go Home show! FUCK YEAH! Actually, I’m just looking to go out there and get this win to put myself into, hopefully, a decent match at the Octane super show.”

HARTMAN: ”Last Octane you and Lauryn announced your tag team and that you will be entering into Bad Company. Do you think that you might be a little worse off having to travel to Australia only a few days before your qualifier match?”

NEVAEH: ”Na. I’ll be alright. I’ve been getting used to a lot of travel and matches in a short amount of time.”

Sativa goes to take a puff off of her vape pen then thinks better of it. She looks from it back up to Hartman and cracks a goofy ass grin. Her half lidded eyes are the tell tale sign that she is officially stoned as fuck.

NEVAEH: ”Look. Gabe. I gotta go, like, get ready?”

She follows Hartman’s gaze down to her ring gear, she is wearing. She looks back at him with a sheepish grin.

NEVAEH: ”Actually I just remembered I gotta, um… I’m just gonna go. Bye.”

Sativa turns and quickly heads back towards her locker room. She finally sees the camera and giggles. She looks back at Hartman and points over her shoulder to the camera.

NEVAEH: ”Oh, there is the camera.”

Hartman stares at her blankly just nodding his head. Sativa turns back around and heads back towards her locker room.

UNDERCARD
JOHN GABRIEL VS. CECILWORTH FARTHINGTON

Lights go out as “Heathens” by Twenty-one Pilots plays throughout the arena. The crowd cheers as they pull out theirr phones and start waving them in a up and down motion rocking out like they are at a concert.

At the forty-two second mark there is a loud explosion. The lights come back on as the crowd continues to rock out.)

DRAKE: “Making his way to the ring. Standing at six-foot four inches, Two-hundred and forty-five pounds “The Average Man” JOHN GGAABBRRIIEELL!!!!”

John Walks out from behind the curtain rocking out with the crowd as his music plays. John makes his way to the ring walking back and forth between each side of the aisle the fans are sitting on. Leaning against the barricade with his back a group of fans and John start head banging. Making it down to the ring John slides under the bottom rope and gets to his feet. Stands up and continues to rock out with the crowd until his music stops.

TAYLOR: ”John Gabriel refers to himself as an average Joe, but boys let me tell you. There’s nothing average about this man at all.”

CAMPBELL: ”Except maybe his physical health. I’d say he’s more in mediocre than average. Could use a few hundred hours on a treadmill.”

LAWSON: ”There’s Chris, always the optimist and always thinking that he has the ability to diagnose someone’s physical well being.”

“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.

TAYLOR: ”Whether or not Chris can accurately identify someone’s physical health is a conversation for another time. Cecilworth Farthington is looking to bounce back from a tough loss to American Tommy last week.”

LAWSON: ”That’s what happens when you go up against Harry Potter. If Voldemort couldn’t beat him how was Cecil going to?”

CAMPBELL: ”THAT WAS FICTION OH MY GOD YOU FUCKING IMBECILE! He’s not actually Harry Potter. I legitimately cannot handle working with you. Either of you, really. Thank God the match is about to begin.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: The match begins slowly with both men doing what they could to feel the other one out, exchanging a few strikes before Gabriel managed to transition into a side headlock, taking Cecil down to the mat by tossing him over his leg, going down to the mat with the hold in place. With some encouragement from the crowd Cecil managed to work his way back to his feet and break free from Gabriels grasp. As he did he bounced off the ropes and drove a stiff forearm into the face his opponent that stumbled him backward. Cecil tried the same maneuver a second time, bouncing off the ropes and leaping to connect with a flying forearm only to have Gabriel catch him, life him high in the air and then drive him down to the mat with a power slam. On impact, Gabriel shifted to cover for the attempted pinfall as the referee slid in to count

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

TAYLOR: ”Close call there for Cecil early in the match. Still, you don’t often see a simple power slam put a competitor away this early in the match.”

CAMPBELL: ”Or ever. It’s still a fucking travesty that goddamn Tommy won with a hip toss last week. THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN! For Christ’s sake we don’t want the world to start thinking of us like we’re WWH. Magic Doctors and hip tosses that win matches.”

LAWSON: ”Calm down there, Chris. Tommy isn’t even in this match. But you know who is, John Gabriel and Cecil Farthington and it’s been a hard hitting affair thus far.”

Middle of the Match: Cecil recovered after managing to get his shoulder up before the three could be counted as Gabriel complained to the referee a bit about a potentially slow count. Taking off once back on his feet, Cecil rebounded off the ropes and caught Gabriel with a sling blade, taking the big man down to the mat. As soon as he did so Cecil popped up to his feet and made his way over to the corner he started in where his manager handed him a towel and he quickly wiped his brow free from sweat, smirking as Gabriel got back to his feet. When Gabriel charged at him, Cecil moved at the last second and left Gabriel to slam into the turnbuckle pads. As John stumbled out of the corner Cecil stood and “made it rain” on him before leaping and connecting with a dropkick that knocked Gabriel down. Pulling Gabriel back up, Cecil kicked him in the stomach and then hooked his arm around Gabriel head, lifting him up in the air and then realizing that Gabriel is a bit heavier than he expected. And so the attempted stalling brain buster resulted in Cecil losing his footing and falling down, with the weight of Gabriel’s body slamming down on top of him as he quickly hooked the leg, attempting another pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

LAWSON: ”I think that Cecil just underestimated how much Gabriel weighs. He’s not a massively fat guy but man that looked ugly.”

TAYLOR: ”I agree, Joe, and I’d say Cecil is paying for it now. That had to have hurt.”

CAMPBELL: ”There should be weigh ins or something before the matches. The book on Gabriel says he’s 245 pounds but I swear to God he looks closer to 300.”

End of the Match: After the awkward failed brain buster attempt Gabriel regains control of the match, using his power to work Cecil down. It all started with a big right hand that stumbled Cecil more than he already was, which was followed up by a massive spine buster and a pinfall attempt that Farthington immediately kicked out of. With Cecil down, Gabriel drove a vicious boot into his ribs that caused Cecil to roll over onto his stomach, pushing himself up to his hands knees while clutching his sides. Not letting up, John then ran and leapt into the air, driving his knee down into the back of Cecil’s head, once more going for a pinfall attempt only to have it kicked out of right away. Picking Cecil back up, Gabriel sent him into the ropes and went for THE AVERAGE SHOULDER BLOCK but Farthington managed to dodge the maneuver, sweeping around behind John before turning him, kicking him in the stomach and then hooking his arm around Gabriel’s head. Cecil then reached and hooked the leg of Gabriel and lifted him up, ever so slowly, straining to get the bigger man over his head. But eventually the weight of Gabriel worked in Cecil’s favor as the fisherman’s suplex connected. Keeping the leg hooked, the referee slid in to count the pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… CECILWORTH FFAARRTTHHIINNGGTTOONN!!!”

The camera’s catch up backstage where Chanson Webster is seen entering through the garage doors. He sees the cameras and smiles, stopping in his tracks to speak a little bit.

WEBSTER: ”What’s up yall?”

You could hear the crowd cheering throughout the arena.

WEBSTER: ”I hope y’all doing good out there and enjoying the show. I’m a little late getting here cos of the traffic but I’m here and that all that’s matter.”

Nodding his head Chanson adjust his duffel bag on his shoulder.

WEBSTER: ”Another Octane down and the excitement continues to grow for the brand. Y’all the people of North Carolina have been showing up and showing love. It’s much appreciated. Tonight it’s been the same thing.”

He smiles before clearing his throat.

WEBSTER: ”Tonight I step out there with Alex Kincaid and let me tell you, that dude has spunk and together I know we are gonna give you guys a good match. Hopefully get you guys on your feet.”

He lifted his hands up to indicate people rising to their feet.

WEBSTER: ”I’m excited for it and I’m ready to get out there to gain more experience, knowledge, but more than anything get that W.”

He nodded his head.

WEBSTER: ”So i’ll be seeing you out there tonight Alex.”

Chanson salutes toward the camera before beginning to walk away as the camera fades.

UNDERCARD
NIOBE MARTIN VS. AMERICAN TOMMY

TAYLOR: ”Up next we have the battle of the magic man and the lady who does not believe in such things… it’s Niobe Martin going up against Ameri…”

CAMPBELL: ”Harry Potter! The man in the ring is Harry Potter and you keep exposing yourself as a shoddy journalist when you forget his name.”

LAWSON: “Tommy will be looking to continue his momentum from the last show and shoot up the Octane rankings with a big win over a 4CW stalwart here tonight.”

CAMPBELL: “I still can’t believe he won with a hiptoss.”

TAYLOR: “It’s a powerful hiptoss and The Nightmare shouldn’t take it lightly. With that said, let us take it to the ring”

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

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

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

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

“Nightmare!

Now your nightmare comes to life..”

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

“Dragged you down below…

Down to the devils show…

To be his guest forever…

Peace of mind is less than never..”

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

TAYLOR: “Martin doesn’t look too pleased to be having this match with the boy who lived here tonight”

LAWSON: “He may be the boy who died if Martin deems it so”

CAMPBELL: “Boy who died? Jesus christ! Sometimes I’m ashamed to sit next to you.”

“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 seventy-five pounds. He hails from the Windy City, Chicago, Illinois! 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 five feet, eleven inches with a penis much larger than that. Hailing from Hogwarts, USA! HARRY PPOOTTTTEERR!!!”

LAWSON: “Do we have to go through this song and dance every week?”

CAMPBELL: “Well maybe if Drake would remember the man’s damn name, he wouldn’t have to force the situation.”

TAYLOR: “Tommy’s a little bit…”

CAMPBELL: “HIS NAME IS 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.

TAYLOR: “Potter and Martin are ready, it’s time!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: Martin looks to lock up with Tommy but Tommy darts out of her way, Martin goes in for the kill with a lunge but Tommy uses the momentum in his favour to toss her down to the mat with a hiptoss. He immediately goes down for the pin!

CAMPBELL: “YOYO TOSS SALAD! THIS ONE IS OVER! WHAT A SHOCKING TURN OF EVEN…”

ONE

.

.

Martin gives a forceful kickout after barely a one count.

CAMPBELL: “Nevermind”

A frustrated Martin jumps back up on her feet as Tommy argues with the referee about the speed of the count, completely in disbelief the hiptoss didn’t do the job. As he turns back round to Niobe, Niobe spins around and drills him in the face it a forearm. Tommy staggers into the ropes as Martin rushes towards The Wizard Lad, knocking him a little bit loopy with a stiff lariat. Although Tommy staggers from the lariat, he does not fall down to the mat. Martin decides to go in for a second and Tommy responds as quick as he can by once more leaping down for the cover but doesn’t even manage to hook the leg as Martin pushes him off, sending him crashing back first into the corner. Martin slips behind the staggered Snitch Catcher and goes for a roll up.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Tommy manages to free himself from the pin condition with relative ease.

TAYLOR: “A lot of early falls in this match. These two aren’t messing around, they want that stunning flash victory.”

CAMPBELL: “So long as that’s the only kind of flash victory Harry is looking for. I’ve seen his news reports, last thing I need is his cock flapping around in the ring.”

LAWSON: “You could call it… HIS WAND!”

CAMPBELL: “I hate you.”

Middle of the Match: Tommy rolls back up to his feet a plants a brutal stiff kick to the temple of the shorter Martin. Martin responds by bouncing off the second rope and smashing Tommy in the face with a springboard uppercut. Tommy does not like this at all, rubbing his jaw in frustration and probable pain. Martin goes for a second springboard but in a shocking and impressive display of athleticism, Tommy manages to catch her on his shoulders. He twirls Martin around in an airplane spin for as long as he can, lasting for around ten seconds before the dizzies get the better of him. He doesn’t drop The Nightmare though, deciding the best way to help himself with the dizzies is to spin ten seconds in the opposite direction. Staggering and almost falling over himself, he launches Martin off his shoulders and sends her crashing down to the mat below.

LAWSON: “I’m dizzy just watching it! I’m surprised Tommy had the endurance to pull that one off.”

TAYLOR: “At this point, I’m rarely surprised by anything Tommy does.”

CAMPBELL: “HIS NAME IS HARRY POTTER! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!”

End of the Match: As Tommy looks happy with his handiwork, he goes over to the corner to wave his wand in victory. The official for the match, imaging Tommy is looking to use the wand as a weapon on Martin, rushes over and begins struggling to snatch it out of Tommy’s hand. Tommy looks frustrated by this and tries to tug it back. As the tug of war is going on in the corner, Niobe recovers from her airplane spin and spots a moment of opportunity. She rushes towards Tommy as launches at him, landing a shotgun dropkick square in his chest. Tommy crashes into the turnbuckle and collapses down hard. Martin looks down at Tommy’s positon, shoves the referee, who now holds a magic wand in his hand, out of the way and leaps on to the second turnbuckle, looking for a split legged moonsault. As she comes back down though, Tommy manage to get his knees up and those knees get right on top of Martin’s gut. She falls down to the side of Tommy before rolling away from the corner. Pulling himself up from the mat, Tommy then snatches his wand out of the officials hand and then climbs the corner. Up top, he then jumps away into the air, coming down on Niobe with a diving double foot stomp!

CAMPBELL: ”Gryffindor Stomp!”

TAYLOR: ”Excuse me, what?”

LAWSON: ”Just go along with it…”

Crawling over Niobe, Tommy makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“Best Song Ever” hits the speakers as Tommy rises to his feet, waving his wand around as it casting a spell on the nearby official. Looking at Tommy with a blank stare, the official then shakes his head and waves him off before grabbing him by the wrist and lifting his arm into the air.

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

Snatching his arm away from the official, Tommy then swipes the wand in his direction while blurting out nonsense. Without any hesitation or showing any signs of being affected by a spell, the official turns away and exits the ring as Tommy begins celebrating.

TAYLOR: ”Tommy may not really be a wizard but he’s starting to pick up some momentum with back to back wins here tonight.”

LAWSON: ”Don’t let him hear you say he’s not a wizard.”

CAMPBELL: ”I’m going to laugh one day when he pulls of some magic in the ring and shocks the entire world.”

UNDERCARD
ALEX KINCAID VS. CHANSON WEBSTER

The arena darkens and the soft opening notes of “Sirius” brings the crowd to their feet. A series of overhead spotlights hit the stage, and from the back Alex Kincaid strides into the aisle. The Bullet King holds both fists high in the air before taking a step forward and swinging a mock punch toward the camera. From the back, Alyssa Kincaid walks out next to her husband. He looks back over his shoulder as she offers him some encouragement while he’s announced to the ring.

DRAKE: “Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds…from Bearing, Alberta….he is The Bullet King… ALEX KKIINNCCAAIIDD!!!”

Kincaid walks down the aisle. From the barricades, the crowd reaches out for him but he seems oblivious to it. His eyes are locked on the ring with steely focus. Alyssa plays to the crowd though, waving her arms to pump them up and slapping hands with a few of them. Kincaid climbs the steps and walks the length of the apron, climbing the buckles. He rests his foot on the top rope and raises one finger high in the air, standing in near superhero pose high above the people. He hops to the ring and pulls off his robe, handing it to Alyssa through the ropes before heading to the corner to stretch and warm up.

TAYLOR: ”This is as big a match as they come for Kincaid here on Octane. Chanson Webster has been in the hunt for the Octane Championship and is a well established star in the professional wrestling industry.”

LAWSON: ”A win tonight could really kickstart his career here in 4CW. It’s matches like these where the biggest names in the company have started to establish themselves.”

CAMPBELL: ”I don’t care who Kincaid is. I don’t give a shit about him at all. But if he doesn’t beat this illiterate fuck that he’s facing I pray Jimmy fires him before the show is over.”

“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.

LAWSON: ”I admit he’s got a unique personality, Chris. But I find him quite entertaining.”

CAMPBELL: ”You find Drew Stevenson entertaining. Please go hang yourself.”

TAYLOR: ”Ugh, Chris. That’s foul. Before this conversation gets anymore out of hand lets pray the referee signals for the bell to start the match.”

On que, the referee does exactly that.

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: Much to the dismay of Chris Campbell, Chanson Webster begins the match very much in control, firing a number of strikes into the face and body of Kincaid, driving him back into the corner where he proceeds to beat him down into a seated position with rapid fire stomps to the abdomen. Webster moves across to the opposite corner and then takes off at full speed, leaping and planting both feet into the chest of Kincaid, delivering a perfect dropkick to his opponent. Still not wasting any time, Webster moves back across to the opposite turnbuckle and sprints once more, this time driving his knee directly into Kincaids face before dragging him out of the corner, lifting him up and then taking him down with a side slam. He covers quickly after the slam but Kincaid gets his foot up onto the rope before the referee can slide in and even begin to count. Thinking nothing of it, Chanson bounces back up to his feet and raises his hands in the air, holding up the CW initials as the match slows from its early, rapid pace set by Wally Webz.

CAMPBELL: ”KINCAID YOU FUCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING”

LAWSON: ”Jesus Christ. Chris. Seriously, stop the yelling. I’m not going to be able to hear anything by the end of the night.”

TAYLOR: ”You might not be able to hear, and I’m not so sure that Chanson is going to give Kincaid the opportunity to get into this match here tonight. Dominant early on.”

Middle of the Match: Kincaid managed to get himself back into the match by first blocking a casual strike thrown by Webster, returning fire with a nasty european uppercut that caught the unique superstar off guard. What would follow from Kincaid was a beautiful display of technical ability combined with a skillful submission set designed to wear the unorthodox Chanson Webster down. Focusing on Wally’s legs, Kincaid consistently sought to drive the knees of Chanson into the mat and follow such maneuvers up with a variety of leg locks. The overall effect being that when Wally stood, it caused him obvious discomfort and took away the speed advantage that he had shown early on in the match to have. Finally, with Wally down on his hands and knees struggling to get back up, Kincaid came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Chansons waist, deadlifting him into a The Llewellyn Lift german suplex, driving the back, neck and head of Chanson down into the mat. Sensing the opportunity to snatch the win, and enjoying the buzz of the crowd, Kincaid moved to the feet of his opponent and quickly locked in a sharpshooter submission, causing Wally to cry out in pain and reach for the bottom rope that was a few feet away. All around the arena the crowd buzzed with anticipation, waiting to see if Chanson would find a way out or if he would give in to the submission finisher.

CAMPBELL: ”GIVE IN WALLY! I DONT EVEN KNOW IF YOU KNOW HOW TO SAY OR SPELL I QUIT BUT DO IT ANYWAY”

LAWSON: ”LOUD NOISES!”

TAYLOR: ”Folks, if the camera would pan to us right now you would see me literally placing my face into my palm. I have no words for my peers right now. So lets just see if Chanson Webster can find a way out of this sharpshooter submission.”

End of the Match: Just before he was going to give in Chanson managed to get his hand on the bottom rope forcing the referee to make Kincaid release the hold, which he did immediately though disappointment was clear in his face that he wasn’t able to put Wally away. Not wasting much time grieving a missed opportunity, Kincaid turns his attention back to Wally and pulls him up to his feet. At first Chansons right knee gives out, dropping him down to a kneeling position. Kincaid once more pulled Chanson up to his feet before Wally’s right leg gave out again, collapsing him to one knee as he tried to pull himself back up. Or, at least, that’s what Kincaid thought he was doing. However, at the last second, Chanson quickly rolled Kincaid up with a surprise small package that caught everyone in the crowd, including the referee, off guard. When the referee realized what was happening a moment later he slid in to count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… CHANSON WWEEBBSSTTEERR!!!”

As soon as the three was counted Chanson let go and quickly rolled himself out of the ring, letting his body rest against the security barrier, nursing a clearly sore knee as he raised his right hand in the air in victory. Inside the ring Kincaid looks disappointed, running a hand through his hair as he pushes himself up onto his his knees.

American Tommy is seen walking backstage pretty chipper. Well, walking is a bit of an understatement. He’s practically skipping down the hall carrying a leash. That leash is connected to his stuffed dog Jack that is lying on its side banging into the walls as Tommy skips down the hall. Skipping down the hall he sees a bunch of fliers sitting on a table. He doesn’t read them of course. He picks them up and makes them rain down like a fucking boss. He starts to skip again before reaching two people talking in the hallway. American Tommy stands there, before he gets too impatient for them to move.

TOMMY: “Get the fuck outta my way, mates! Can’t you see I’m walking my dog!”

The two people turn around and see American Tommy and smile. They look back at the dog and the raise their eyebrows. One of them is brave enough to speak.

MAN: “Harry, uh. You know Jack is dead, right?”

TOMMY: “Of course I fucking do, nerd!”

MAN: “…and most people leave them home when they get stuffed?”

TOMMY: “You speak one more word to me and I’m going to put you on a leash and drag you behind me too, you god damn muggle. MOVE! I have news to deliver!”

The man quickly walks away and the other man looks at American Tommy, but doesn’t say anything. American Tommy decides to have a staring contest that he obviously wins. After the guy blinks, American Tommy walks by him dragging Jack along. He gets to the news room and there sign pasted on the door that American Tommy doesn’t even pay attention to. Kim is standing next to it and she glances at Tommy and then to the floor.

TOMMY: “Let’s get the show on the road, Kim. Big night! Tonight, I finally deliver the news!”

KIM: “Uh….”

Kim motions her head towards the sign and American Tommy takes note of it this time. It’s a DO NOT ENTER sign. American Tommy is furious. He starts pacing around while still having the leash. He picks up Jack and slams him feet first onto a nearby table causing a large boom. It startles Kim who looks at Tommy. Tommy is staring at the sign.

KIM: “They are fumigating the newsroom, Harry.”

TOMMY: “What the fuck could they be fumigating?”

KIM: “They wouldn’t say.”

American Tommy puts his hand up over his eyes and starts to shake his head. He can’t fucking believe it. Tonight, was supposed to be his night to shine. Tonight, he was going to become a star!

TOMMY: “It’s god damn cooties.”

Kim shoots Tommy a questioning glance. Tommy takes his hand off his head and looks at Kim.

KIM: ”What?”

TOMMY: “That god damn Niobe got into this room and she left her filthy, disgusting cooties everywhere. I know it! I fucking know it!”

American Tommy kicks the door and surprisingly it breaks open. I mean, of course it breaks open. He’s a fucking MAN! A cloud of smoke comes out of the room and the two of them start coughing. Kim covers her mouth and backs away, but Tommy isn’t doing a fucking thing. Kim starts walking away, motioning for Tommy to follow, but he doesn’t. He just breathes all that shit in.

KIM: “Harry, we got to go!”

Tommy is starting to get a bit loopy because of the fumes and cracks a smile. He points at Kim.

TOMMY: “Grab the camera crew. We doing this shit now! We are not missing our…”

American Tommy falls to the ground and passes out, because well, he shouldn’t have fucking stood there. The scene ends with Kim running back to Tommy and dragging him away. Dragging him away while he is still dragging his dog. Just a woman, a man and his dog. Such a beautiful sight.

UNDERCARD
LADY LILIN VS. SATIVA NEVAEH

“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… 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: ”This bitch creeps me the fuck out.”

TAYLOR: ”You know it’s not exactly professional to refer to a woman as this bitch, right?”

LAWSON: ”Rach, I don’t think he cares to be honest.”

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: ”It’s all going to come together for Sativa again sometime soon. I don’t know if that’s tonight or not but soon enough she’ll be challenging the likes of Caroline Burchill and the other names that have established themselves as major players on Octane”

LAWSON: ”I think she will too and, if you ask me, tonight is the night that all starts again.”

CAMPBELL: ”Yeah, I think this bitch is going to win. Starting now.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: The match begins in Lilin’s favor, with her catching Sativa off guard with stiff knees to the midsection that drop her down to the mat and give Lady Lilin the opportunity to lock in a headlock, quickly trying to wear down Sativa. It doesn’t take long for Sativa to work her way over to the ropes, hooking an arm around them leaving the referee to order Lilin to break the hold. She doesn’t listen, at least not until the referee reaches a four count out of five. It’s only on the brink of being disqualified that Lilin releases, backing off and running her hands through her hair with a smirk as the crowd begins to boo her, quite displeased with her tactics early on. Sativa turns to return to the fight but is caught by a running knee that stuns her, and then a DDT that drops her down to the mat. Lilin quickly covers but Sativa kicks out just before the referee’s hand could hit the mat a second time.

TAYLOR: ”Lilin might want to try to wear down Sativa a bit more before going for that pinfall. We’re talking about a woman who has been through some of the most hellacious matches 4CW has ever seen.”

CAMPBELL: ”What do you expect from someone who looks like the chick that crawled out of televisions in The Ring?”

LAWSON: ”Seven days until you die, Chris.”

Middle of the Match: Lilin again pulls Sativa back up to her feet, looking to continue her attack. Disrespectfully she slaps Sativa across the face with an open palm which seems to wake the ganja goddess up from her early match lethargy. Sativa quickly responds with a brutal right hand that catches Lilin unsuspecting. Grabbing Lilin by the ears, Sativa drives her skull into her opponents before jumping and connecting with her own knee right underneath Lilins chin. With Lady Lilin reeling, Sativa ups the pressure, forcing her back into the corner where she delivers consecutive back elbows before turning and stomping away at the woman midsection. The fans count with each kick all the way up to ten. Once she reaches the tenth kick the referee steps in and forces her back, drawing a smile from Sativa who then runs her hands through her own hair mocking the gesture that Lilin had used earlier, much to the delight of the crowd.

LAWSON: ”Sativa with a bit of mind games of her own there, mocking the taunt that Lilin used a few minutes ago.”

TAYLOR: ”You can tell the crowd appreciates it too.”

CAMPBELL: ”Yeah, because what the fans appreciate always makes for good television right? Wrong.”

End of the Match: Lilin attempts to respond by pulling herself back up to her feet and racing across the ring, trying to clothesline Sativa’s head right off of her shoulders. Sativa ducks under the attempt, however, and quickly drops down toward her back, her right foot swinging upward and connecting with NERF THIS! Not wanting to put up with anything else, and knowing that her opponent was dazed, Sativa pushes herself back up to her feet and quickly ties up Lilin, driving her down into the mat with a reverse STO, transitioning quickly into a Koji Clutch.

LAWSON: ”NIGHTY NIGHT!”

Nighty night indeed. With the hold locked in right in the middle of the ring, Lilin has nowhere to go and, recognizing this fact and refusing to risk serious injury, she taps the mat in submission.

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

DRAKE:”HERE IS YOUR WINNER BY SUBMISSION… SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

We cut to the backstage area. We see The trio of Caroline, Dex and their agent Amy Scottsfiern. The view shows Caroline off away a from them, undoubtedly going over some preparations for her match coming up.

We get the focal image of Dex, sitting with his back against the walls of the arena. His face is blank and expressionless as he ’s completely disengaged from everything and one around him as she’s slowly peeling off the tape from his wrist.

SCOTTSFIERN: ”With the first Octane pay-per-view coming around we have nowhere to go but up… I’m so excited for our little team here… Perfect ending is seeing Caroline walk out as the first Octane Champion!“

Dex says nothing as he looks at her with a completely checked out look before retuning his attention back to unwinding the sweat stained tape from his wrist. He’s still clad in his ring attire, wearing an unzipped black hoodie to keep himself warm.

Amy looks over to Caroline who keeps to herself, stretching out a bit. Amy looks back down to Dex. Her lips twist into a small smirk as she softly kicks at his feet to regain his attention once more.

SCOTTSFIERN: ”Wow, I can just feel the excitement over here… Jesus you two, who died? Who’s funeral am I at? You guys should be as pumped up for this as I am… Hell even more excited… This is big for us! Caroline! This is big for you!“

Caroline nods at her before returning from her self-isolation. She walks by, and playfully ruffles the top of Dex’s head before she walks past him and Amy.

BURCHILL: ”Wish me luck. Probably won’t even need it though.“

Caroline walks out of the shot leaving just Dex and Amy and some lingering silence between them as he tosses aside the unwrapped tape from his left wrist, and begins working on his right one.

SCOTTSFIERN: ”Well? Aren’t you excited for her?“

Dex would exhale sharply as he ‘d slowly get himself off of his ass. He’d rise to his feet shaking the circulation back into his legs a bit before he spoke up.

RUSSEY: ”What about me?“

SCOTTSFIERN: ”Please don’t do this… Not right now… Not when we’re so close t-“

RUSSEY: ”What’s this we shit?… There isn’t a we out there… There’s just me out there…“

SCOTTSFIERN: ”Dex… You’ve been a part of a team before… You know how this works, you g-“

Amy is abruptly cut off by a loud crashing sound. Dex has tuned himself completely and punted a near by disposal bin halfway down the hallway. As his back is turned to the camera we can see him breathing heavily. His body shaking a bit before he turns himself back to Amy, speaking through gritted teeth.

RUSSEY: ”Team?… This isn’t fucking team Amy… You and Caroline aren’t out there fighting the battles I fight… Dealing with the shit that everyone insist on shoving my way… You’re not bruised, you’re not battered, and you’re certainly not being disrespected… So please Amy… While I’m speaking to you as calmly as I possibly can…

What… About… Me?“

SCOTTSFIERN: ”I-… I“

Dex slowly cups his hands over his mouth to stifle back a small laugh laced with pure sarcasm and impatience.

RUSSEY: ”Amy… Amy Amy Amy… There might not be an “I” in team… But there I’m certain that there’s an “I” in “Wrestling” as in… “I” should be wrestling in big matches… “I” should be getting the same opportunities that everyone else get… Because “I” have been here from night fucking one… “I” put my fucking soul on my sleeve for everyone one to see it… And “I”… Get absolutely fucking nothing in return…“

Amy looks a bit startled seeing a serious and down to business version of Dex Russey for the first time.

SCOTTSFIERN: ”I… What do you want me to do Dex?“

RUSSEY: ”Oh Amy…“

Dex takes a step forward and puts a his hand on the woman’s shoulders. There’s smooch tension between the two as Dex looks down at her with a condescending smile.

RUSSEY: ”Lemme take you back to late May this year mkay… I’m sure you remember just fine… Octane one… On that entire show there were four people who didn’t get a chance to be where Caroline is gonna be…

If I’m remembering correctly… There was Ryan Kidd… Poltergeist now… There was John Gabriel… Irrelevant. Oh, there was Niobe… Who I’ve already proven to the world that she can even lace up my boots. And then there was one more guy… Oh yeah… Me… So now Amy. Ask yourself… And think hard on this one… Out of those four names… Who do you represent as an Agent?”

SCOTTSFIERN: ”You…“

RUSSEY: ”Good answer… Now… How do you think “I” feel about getting left out of all the fun, huh?“

SCOTTSFIERN: ”Uhmmm… Upset?“

RUSSEY: ”Mhm, close. I’d have went with humiliated, infuriated, livid, disappointed, anxious, and a lot of words that I really don’t wanna say on television right now… So Amy… What are you going to do about it?“

Dex clenches her shoulder a little tighter as he gives her a big faux-sheepish smile.

SCOTTSFIERN: ”I’ll talk to Mister Walker… Or Mister Wallace, and we’ll see if we can right this wrong…“

RUSSEY: ”Atta girl… Now get going… And hey… Thanks for being such a great team player, yeah.“

Dex releases her shoulder as Amy quickly scurries away with the sounds of her heels tapping the floor and echoing down the halls. Dex leans himself against the wall once more, before sliding down to his bottom again. He mutters something under his breath as he goes back to peeling tape off of his wrist as our scene comes to a close.

UNDERCARD
NO HOLDS BARRED
DEXTER SEVERIN VS. REDD THUNDER

DRAKE: ”The following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall!”

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. 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.

DRAKE: ”And the opponent!”

The Lights go dark and the arena is silent until the sound of an approaching storm is heard, Suddenly a thunderclap breaks the silence. All that Remains “The Thunder Rolls” starts to play and slowly, methodically, a mountain of man known as REDD THUNDER slowly makes from backstage. His head is covered with a black towel. He walks with authority, and it feels as if the arena shakes with each step.

DRAKE: ”Entering the arena, at a weight of four hundred and five pounds, hailing from…*he sighs and rolls his eyes* haling from the Foothills of Mount Olympus….he is known by many names by many people, but tonight we know him as…REDD TTHHUUNNDDEERR!!!”

REDD THUNDER pulls his towel off his head and throws it on the ground before making his way to the side ring steps. He walks up the ring steps and wipes his feet on the ring apron before entering the ring. He beats his chest and yells something, we aren’t exactly sure what before grabbing the ring rope and stretching his arms.

LAWSON: ”We have a messy one coming up ladies and gentlemen!”

TAYLOR: ”We have a ring with two rather large men inside of it and no rules whatsoever in the match that awaits them.”

LAWSON: ”Both men are coming off tough eliminations at the 4 Corners Frenzy at Adrenaline Sixty-Nine. They both made us proud here at Octane and I for one look forward to this match up tonight.”

CAMPBELL: ”Three words! No. Holds. Barred.”

TAYLOR: ”In a match with rules in place I can only imagine how difficult it is to put Redd down for a three count. Just imagine trying to keep him off of you! Now he has nothing holding him back from literally murdering you in the ring.”

LAWSON: ”Anything can happen here tonight between these two and we have the best seat in the house!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: The entire ring broke out in chaos before the bell could even silence! With no rules whatsoever, the official quickly exited the ring and watched from the outside as both Dexter and Thunder exchanged devastating blows inside of the ring. From corner to corner, both men pulverized each other with lefts and rights, kicks and knees, and even headbutts and biting. After knocking the huge man down, Dexter quickly removed the padding from one of the corner turnbuckles exposing the bare metal underneath. Helping Redd back to his feet, Dexter then laid into him with body blows before locking onto his arm and whipping him to the corner. Turning things around in the blink of an eye, Thunder reversed the throw, sending Dexter slamming into the exposed metal of the corner, creating a laceration underneath his shoulder.

Abiding by the rules that would normally be in place, Redd didn’t fight dirty one bit. After crashing into a metal turnbuckle, Dexter showed signs of his shoulder being injured as he favored it in a futile defense. Lifting Dexter off his feet and tossing him up onto his shoulders with ease, Redd planted him in the center of the ring with a Samoan drop that shook the entire ring upon impact. Making a quick cover, as quick as a man his size could, Redd hooked Dexter’s leg and went for an early pin. Sliding into the ring, the official crawls beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Not slowing down one bit, Redd paid no mind to the failed pin attempt and went right back to work, pounding away onto Dexter from above with thunderous rights and lefts.

CAMPBELL: ”If I didn’t know any better I’d think this were just an all out fight!”

LAWSON: ”It might as well be. In a setting like this, you can throw wrestling out of the ring. Watching Redd swing away at Dexter reminds me of Butterbean.”

TAYLOR: ”He’s definitely pulled out the big guns and is looking for a knockout!”

Middle of the Match: After a few minutes pass of Redd beating Dexter into next week, Redd goes to throw him to the ropes but instead, Dexter reverses the throw. Hitting the ropes front on, Redd’s weight and momentum force him to go up and over the top rope, crashing hard to the floor below. As Redd slowly climbs back to his feet, Dexter paces back and forth inside of the ring, waiting for the right moment to strike. When the opportunity arises, Dexter takes off towards and ropes, diving through then and hitting Redd with a shoulder block just as he stands, knocking him backwards and into the ringside barrier. Pulling a table out from underneath the ring, Dexter sets it up not far from where Redd rests against the barricade. Pulling the big man back to his feet, Dexter then rolls him onto the table and delivers back to back rights to the forehead. Climbing onto the apron, Dexter backs all the way to one side, creating some distance between he and Redd. Running along the apron, Dexter then leaps off and flies through the air a short distance, landing on Redd with an elbow drop that forces the entire table to collapse, not break in half, but collapse as the legs give out from underneath it. On top of Redd, Dexter is in position for the cover and goes for it as the official on the outside races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Awakening, Redd bench presses Dexter off of him, breaking up the count before launching him into the air and to the side!

TAYLOR: ”I’m still scratching my head about that table not snapping in half!”

CAMPBELL: ”That’s a lot of weight to put on those legs. I’m surprised the table didn’t give out with just Redd’s weight alone.”

LAWSON: ”The fall looked like it hurt more than what it would have the table broken in half.”

CAMPBELL: ”Regardless of how the table broke, Redd is still in it and full of energy as he just showed us right there by throwing Dexter off of him.”

End of the Match: Despite being thrown into the air from ground level earlier, Dexter still has a firm grip on the momentum of the match, keeping Redd at Bay with quick kicks and punches from all angles. With both hands locked onto Redd’s head, Dexter slams Redd’s face down onto the apron multiple times before leaving the big man propped up against the side of the ring. Picking the table with no legs up from the floor, Dexter leans it up against the side of the ring beside Redd. Pulling Redd’s head up from the apron, Dexter then walks him over to the corner of the ring before slamming him head first into the ring post. The blow to the head knocks Redd into a daze but still doesn’t take him off his feet. Walking Redd over to the table, Dexter pushes him against it, leaning him on it and releasing him to stand on his own to legs, with support from the table of course. Taking a few steps back, Dexter then sweeps in and goes for a superkick, The Tragikick, aimed directly for Redd’s face. Just as his foot comes within inches of Redd’s face, Redd throws both hands up, catching his foot in mid-air and stopping it just before impact. Pulling Dexter in, Redd wraps him up with both arms before taking a couple of steps away from the table. Roaring at the top of his lungs, Redd then lifts Dexter off his feet and falls backwards, driving his head through the propped up table with a belly to belly suplex!

LAWSON: ”Oh my!”

TAYLOR: ”Redd just set the table so to speak with Dexter’s head right there!”

With Dexter lying face down in a scattered mess of broken wood, Redd slowly climbs back to his feet before pounding his chest with both hands and roaring once more. With his foot, Redd nudges Dexter over to his back and then climbs up onto the apron. The climb onto the apron wasn’t quick by any means, but Luckily for Redd, Dexter was still down and out after the blunt trauma to the head. With his back turned to the outside of the ring, Redd position himself in front and above Dexter. Holding onto the ropes, Redd sways back and forth before jumping down and landing down onto Dexter’s chest in a seated position, executing his Galaxy Breaker! Sitting on top of Dexter’s chest, Redd has him right where he needs him, shoulders down to the floor with nowhere to go. Dropping down beside them, the official then makes the count, slapping his hand onto broken pieces of wood from the table.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

CAMPBELL: ”There you have it folks! Redd Thunder has won it here tonight in his first Octane appearance.”

TAYLOR: ”Although there were no rules in place, Redd didn’t fight dirty one bit. We didn’t see him using any weapons or illegal moves.”

LAWSON: ”He didn’t have to! He just needed to use his size advantage and power to pull this one out and that’s exactly what he did.”

“The Thunder Rolls” hits the speakers as Redd slowly rises up to his feet, towering over Dexter who is completely out of it. Grabbing Redd’s hand, the official raises it into the air as Redd pounds his chest with his free hand at the sound of the bell.

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner, REDD TTHHUUNNDDEERR!!!”

UNDERCARD
BRYAN LAUGHLIN & KAELAN QUINN
VS. NATURALEZA CAOTICA

CAMPBELL: ”Tonight we see the debut of a tag team we’ve all heard about but because they’ve never submitted any information to 4CW HR, we have no idea how the hell they’re going to function together as a tag team.”

TAYLOR: ”That’s a bit harsh don’t you think, Chris? Everyone knows about BaelinClub”

LAWSON: ”Another wonderful story of a former sex slave uniting with the sister of an irish mobster. This is the stuff of fairy tales, ladies and gentlemen. I think they’re going to do great together.”

With Bryan Laughling and Kaelan Quinn already standing in the ring, waiting for the match to begin the music begins as the arena lights go to red and green and the big screen shows the logo of Naturaleza Caótica. From the back comes Phage carrying about ten light tubes taped together over her shoulder, but Naturaleza enters behind her and pulls them from her hands. Phage turns around and Naturaleza holds her finger up as if disciplining her partner, but Phage snatches the light tubes back from her and continues down the aisle.

DRAKE: “Coming down the aisle, at a total combined weight of two hundred and eighty-one pounds, Phage and Naturaleza, NATURALEZA CAOTICA!!!!”

The duo makes it into the ring as Phage puts her light tubes underneath and they climb the ring steps walking to the middle of the apron on opposite sides of the ring giving the fans a photo op. Grabbing the top rope, Naturaleza slingshots herself over the rope jumping off of it when her feet reach them and at the same time, Phage steps onto the bottom rope and hooks her arms around the top rope behind her using it to back flip into the ring. Both women land at the same time with Naturaleza landing center ring in a superhero three-point landing as the crowd snaps pictures of her and cheers. Phage walks to the farthest corner from her current position and squats down waiting for the match to start.

CAMPBELL: ”And while Natural.. whatever… actually submitted their proper paperwork to HR, they’ve yet to actually say anything of importance at all. In fact they went with the bold strategy of not addressing their opponents at all this week.”

LAWSON: ”You’re in some kind of mood tonight, huh Chris?”

TAYLOR: ”When isn’t he in this kind of mood, Joe, honestly. Let’s just get this match underway already.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: After a quick discussion, Laughlin agrees that he’ll begin the match for BaelinClub and Phage decides to begin the match for Naturaleza Caotica. From the get go it’s a pretty clear mistake from Phage as Laughlin, fresh off a match where he legitimately cut a persons finger off with lawn maintenance equipment, seems to have plenty of pent up rage and frustration inside of him. He absolute dominates Phage throughout the early portions of the match, isolating her from her tag team partner by trapping her in his own corner where he proceeded to waylay her with a flurry of punches and kicks, pulling her up and dropping her down onto her head with ease. He then looks to tag his partner, Kaelan Quinn, in. As he does so she quickly leaps over the top rope and drops a leg down across the throat of phage while the crowd cheers for the orange haired woman who performed so well in the Four Corners Frenzy.

TAYLOR: ”Say what you want about her and her personal life, Chris, you can’t deny that Kaelan Quinn has gone to great lengths to improve her game since her first match against Dex Russey.”

CAMPBELL: ”Maybe, but who are she and Laughlin really facing tonight? Honestly? I think these two might be from Carny Pro.”

LAWSON: ”We really don’t need to mention that place. Especially not when Laughlin could have a relapse and turn into his alter ego. I don’t think anyone here is prepared to see that.”

Middle of the Match: In the ring Kaelan actually drags her opponent across the ring and allows her to tag her partner in, encouraging the other masked woman to enter the ring. Naturaleza ducks through the ropes and into the ring only to be caught quickly with a stiff kick to the stomach which Kaelan transitions rapidly into a DDT. She’s not content to leave it at that, though, instead dragging Naturaleza over to the corner, hoisting her up, and draping her across the ropes before leaping and connecting with FROM BELFAST WITH LOVE! Deciding to tag her own partner back in from there, Laughlin quickly ducks through the ropes as Kaelan steps out feeling very good about the way their team has been performing up to that point. As Naturaleza pulled herself up to a sitting position, Laughlin sprints across the ring and drives a forearm into Phage’s face, knocking her down to the outside of the ring, before turning around and sprinting back across the ring and connecting with the BURNING RIVER LEAP! Standing over the fallen woman, he considers pinning her but instead tags Kaelan back into the match.

TAYLOR: ”BaelinClub showing good, effective teamwork tonight. Naturaleza Caotica just look outmatched plain and simple”

LAWSON: ”You do have to give them credit. Laughlin with his rugged experience and Kaelan with her youthful exuberance. They’re an entertaining team to watch.”

CAMPBELL: ”Yeah, yeah. Let’s see how they do against actual competition, not a team that Jimmy decided to feed them as a warm up match.”

End of the Match: Kaelan swats at her opponents head tauntingly before dragging her back up to her feet. It’s not about winning, that much has already pretty much been sewn up. Now it’s about sending a statement to all of the other tag teams in the bad company tournament. Quickly, Kaelan hits GOING OUT IN STYLE before tagging Bryan back into the match, again showing how quickly they were willing to share the spotlight with the other. As Laughlin enters the ring, Naturaleza stumbles back to her feet, barely able to stand. Which is okay because a moment later when she turned Laughlin flattened her with SUPERKEK, the crack from its impact echoing throughout the Cabarrus arena. Kaelan, smartly, hopped down off the ring apron a moment prior and sprinted around the ring, taking Phage’s legs out from under her leaving her to smack her face off the ring apron as Laughlin dropped to cover their fallen opponent. The crowd barely reacted, recognizing that the match was a squash almost from the very beginning.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

DRAKE:”Here are your winners by pinfall….. BAELIN CLLLLUUUUUBBBBB!!!”

Kaelan slides back into the ring and runs at Laughlin, leaping into his arms excitedly as the two embrace over their first tag team victory as the scene fades backstage.

We return back to the ring where we see Vossler for the 2nd time tonight. He holds a microphone whilst still dressed in his near-suit get-up. He appears disraught as he starts speaking right away, cutting off Drake’s introduction before he could even start it.

VOSSLER: “Tonight’s been a great night so far but the true action has yet to happen with myself, Jeb Fisher and Amirai Reilley in the spotlight. We’re main eventing with a triple threat match that determines who will face Caroline Burchill for the title. And I should be excited. I should be. But around every corner I go there’s some sort of doubter there that aims to strike down my hopes. From attacks in the gym to cutting my interview time short with some bullshit nonsense…”

Vossler sighs and shakes his head with disdain written on his face.

VOSSLER: “Look, I call it bullshit nonsense because of the fact that it shouldn’t be brought out in public. I never made it public to begin with. This was forced by the people who have been after me for over a year after deciding to out their dirty laundry on air. None of that is on my part. Despite all of this people still think that this will wear me down and ultimately pull the carpet from under my feet on my road to the Octane championship. People doubt that I have the focus to be able to get the job done.”

He walks forward to the ropes, leaning on the top one and staring down the hard cam.

VOSSLER: “Keep. Watching.”

The crowd cheers in response, but Vossler wastes little time basking in it.

VOSSLER: “I’ve faced more horrible odds than this and come out victorious. Clearly not a single fucking one of my opponent have done research on me. From Angeleo and his group of sissy bitches to my opponents here tonight. The girl, Amirai, constantly makes attempts to try and push the whole vagina card in my face after I’ve agreed with her consistently that gender doesn’t matter when it comes to success but for some fucking reason she can’t shut up about her having a pussy. Since when has that ever mattered in graps? No one has kicked up an issue about it except women themselves who feel like they need some excuse ahead of time when they lose.”

The crowd responds with an audible “Oooohhh”s!

TAYLOR: ”Misogyny from Vossler?”

CAMPBELL: ”I think he’s right! Vos has agreed plenty of times being a woman has nothing to do with success but Amirai Reilley can’t seem to shut up about it!”

VOSSLER: “And then there’s Jeb fuckin’ Fisher who goes around yapping and running his mouth saying that my late father’s work supposedly makes me think that I’m the big dog. My question for Jeb is, are you actually as mentally challenged as some people claim son? I’ve been actively distancing myself as much as fucking possible! Who’re you to talk about hiding behind family’s success?!”

Vossler stops, sensing he is getting too excited.

VOSSLER: “No one knows anything about me yet there’s so much out there already by so little choice of my own. Yet none of you can be fucking arsed to look into it and then claim you know all about me. None of you can fucking read or listen! You can’t even watch! How does any one of you expect to get your hand raised by the end of this bout!?”

He continous to shoot with his promo time, getting a signal from a ring-side staff member to cut it short.

VOSSLER: “Oh, really?! Shorten it?! Shorten my promo time will you!? You fuckin’ weasels.”

The staff member talks into his headset for a moment, then nods to Vossler. Vossler looks almost defeated but continous regardless.

VOSSLER: “None of you delinquents have caught the fucking clue that this tournament, this match… it’s all I need to focus on. This solves my problems. This is my absolution. This is my fuckin’ problem-solver. And I will go through every single one of them to make it happen.”

With a middle finger raised to the hard camera, he throws the microphone over his shoulder whilst moving to the ropes.

LAWSON ”Choice words from Vossler! Hopefully he won’t come to bite the dust in the end.”

Vossler has left the ring and walks up the ramp, just in time before we head to the next backstage segment.

HEADLINE
TORNADO DESENCADENADO VS. CAROLINE BURCHILL

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.

TAYLOR: ”I know how important the main event is and the implications that it will have, but I think this one could be the match of the night.”

CAMPBELL: ”HAIL QUEEN CAROLINE!”

LAWSON: ”She’s not even out here yet, Chris. But the winner of the first ever ten minutes of mayhem match is and he’s determined to prove he belongs in the title picture with a win a woman who has yet to lose here on Octane.”

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: ”BOW DOWN YOU FILTHY PEASANTS AND WORSHIP THE QUEEN!”

TAYLOR: ”As good as Caroline is, Chris, lets not for a moment think that the real queen, Kaysie, appreciates imposters trying to steal her title.”

LAWSON: ”Who is Kaysie? Wait, don’t answer that yet. Lets get this match started instead.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Beginning of the Match: Early on in the match Tornado grabbed the momentum and ran with it, stunning Caroline with a few strikes before dropping her to the mat wth a scoop slam. Showing off his technical ability he used a gator roll to begin to try and wear the self proclaimed queen down. Standing up, he planted a few kicks into the abdomen of the Octane Championship contender before bouncing off the ropes and leaping into the air, landing with all of his weight in a senton across the upper body of Burchills. As she clutched her chest, Tornado bent down and pulled her back up to her feet quickly by her hair, delivering a few more strikes to keep her dazed before twisting her up and duplexing her with a gut wrench suplex. With Caroline back down his assault continued with a pendulum elbow drop which was followed up with a leg drop across the chest before finally Tornado dropped and attempted to pin the queen. The referee slid in quickly to count but only managed a two before Caroline kicked out of the predicament.

CAMPBELL: ”I hope Tornado knows she’s just letting him feel good about himself. That’s what good queens do. They let their subjects feel like they might be important.”

TAYLOR: ”You’re really going all out on this bit right now, aren’t you?”

LAWSON: ”Just be happy he isn’t shouting for once, Rachel.”

Middle of the Match: Caroline managed to get out of the situation she was in, grabbing Tornado by his tights and pulling him face first into the middle turnbuckle pad as she groggily pulled herself back up to her feet. The quick halt in momentum is all the break Caroline needed to quickly take control of the match. Quick strikes when Tornado returned to his feet transitioned into a swinging neck breaker that grounded the technical mastermind. That neck breaker then transitioned into a heel hook that immediately had Tornado howling as Caroline continued to wrench on the hold. Eventually Tornado was able to get to the ropes but by that time enough damage had been done, as well as giving Caroline enough time to recover from her opponents initial assault, that things suddenly started to look bad for Desencadenado. While Tornado once more began to work his way back to his feet, the pain in his leg caused him to hesitate giving Caroline the wide open opportunity she needed to swoop around behind him, grab him by his head and drive the back of his head down onto her knee. CONQUEROR lead to a quick pinfall attempt but Tornado got his shoulder up off the mat at the last second.

CAMPBELL: ”Told you she was just letting him get a head start. STAY DOWN TORNADO! STAY DOWWWNNN! THERES NO NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE WARNING FOR YOU TONIGHT!”

LAWSON: ”See what I mean. Now he’s yelling again and we’re both going to have headaches.”

TAYLOR: ”Maybe, but Caroline is looking like the unbeatable woman she’s been for the last six weeks right here in North Carolina.”

End of the Match: In full control, Caroline continued to methodically pick apart Tornado, focusing on his right leg over and over again. As he stood, she was quick to take him down with a chop block to the back of the knee before locking in a leg lock, torquing his right leg in an unnatural direction. Once more, Tornado found himself groaning in pain, trying to find a way out of one of Carolines submission holds. Slowly he pulled the weight of his whole body, and hers, towards the ropes. Just as he was about to get there, though, Caroline released the hold and drug him back to the middle of the ring. Holding onto his right leg, Caroline looked to lock in the leg lock once more but was caught by the bottom of a boot to her jaw, causing her to stumble backwards in shock. Tornado, desperately, rolled himself over onto his hands and knees and pushed himself up as quickly as he could. Looking up he saw Caroline coming at him and reacted instinctively. Launching himself into a sprint, he threw himself in her direction. CYCLONE SMASH! The running corkscrew forearm smash connects cleanly, dropping Burchill in the center of the ring as the crowd exploded in shock. With all the energy he could muster, Tornado dove across the body of the Octane Championship contender and hooked the leg.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

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

DRAKE: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… TORNADO DESE…. DESEN…. ah screw it. TORNADO GUY!”

It was minutes before Jeb Fisher’s match, but the young man didn’t seem to even notice. Jeb was currently at the weight lifting bench, he was exerting a long of energy – which some would say wasn’t wise so close to a very important match. But Jeb was in the zone, lifting the weight up and down, over and over again. This testament to just how strong Jeb was had gained an audience, a mainly female audience. A few of the female staff members had gathered around to watch the athletic specimen that was Jeb Fisher. Jeb was obviously showing off for the ladies, making sure that his muscles were fully flexed, his veins almost popping out of his skin. He did all of this was a very smarmy grin on his lips, as if he was really eating up being the center of attention.

With a loud clanging of metal Jeb puts the bar up to rest. He then sits up, eyeing his admirers up and down. The Barbaric one then wipes off some sweat that was dripping down his forehead. He then goes to strike up some small talk with the ladies in the room but is interrupted by a muffled yell that was somewhere outside the room. Jeb cocks his head to the side and looks towards the open door, listening more intently as the sound gets closer and closer.

B. FISHER: ”JEBEDIAH!”

It was now clear that the yelling was coming from Jeb’s step-father Bob. After a few moments Bob comes wobbling into the room, his face beat red and almost completely out of breath. Jeb laughs at the condition of Bob, before returning his attention to the ladies. Just as he is about to say something to one of them, Bob barges over and grabs ahold of Jeb’s arm, trying to lift him up off of the weight bench.

B. FISHER: ”What in the Jesus Mary fuckin’ Christ are you doin’ boy? You got yourself a match out there in any minute…”

Jeb shrugs the old man’s grip off his arm, he then looks around at the ladies before looking back at Bob, as if the old man was an idiot.

J. FISHER: ”Would you calm it down? You’re gonna’ give yourself a heart attack! I’m well aware of what’s coming up. But do you hear my theme music? No! So until then i’m just hanging out here, getting to know these whores and what not. We’re just having a good time. Ain’t that right skanks?”

Jeb was obviously looking for some sort of support from the women, but they all give him a look of disgust before turning their back on poor Jeb, exiting the room. Jeb lets out a disappointed sigh before standing up on his feet.

J. FISHER: ”See what you fuckin’ did? You scared off all my bitches!”

Extending his arms far above his head, Jebediah stretches out his muscles and bones – a good few cracks coming from his joint.

J. FISHER: ”Eh, fuck it… Probably for the best anyway. I already have a date with two cunts….S’go Bob.”

Jeb points to the door and marches out, as if he was leading the way. Bob follows suit, hobbling behind his son who was just bursting at the seams with confidence.

MAIN EVENT
OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

JEB FISHER VS. VOSSLER VS. AMIRAI REILLEY

DRAKE: ”The following contest is a triple threat match and is scheduled for one fall. The winner will advance to face Caroline O’Hara Burchill at Emergence for the OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP!”

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 comfertable in his corner.

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.

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.

DRAKE: “On her way to the ring- she hails from Atlantic City, New Jersey. Weighing in at one hundred twenty-two, 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.

The referee checks over all three opponents and confirms with them that they understand the rules of the match. As soon as he’s finished with that task he checks once more with all three to make sure they’re ready and then signals for the bell

TAYLOR: ”Here we go!!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The match started off quickly with Jeb moving to the middle of the ring daring the other two to come at him together. Vossler and Amirai oblige him and the duo combine to biast Jeb with strikes back and forth that stumble him backwards into the ropes. He quickly rebounds and takes both of them down with a double clothesline that earns an approving crooked smile from Bob Fisher outside of the ring. Vossler and Reilly don’t stay down long, however, quickly getting back to their feet and blasting Jeb down to the mat with simultaneous dropkicks that flatten Jeb. Outside the ring Bob shouts at the referee as if the two did something wrong but the ref pays little attention to the man.

Reilly and Vossler stand at the same time and tie up, with Reilly getting the advantage quickly twisting a wrist lock and pulling his arm behind his back. Showing off his agility, Vossler contorts his body and manages to reverse the hold, locking Amirai’s wrist behind her back instead before shoving her away from him. Both smile at each other and give a quick nod of approval as they shake their arms out, trying to rid the pain and return the feeling to their limbs.

Pushing himself back up to his feet is Jeb Fisher and suddenly the three are at a stand off once more. Meeting in the middle of the ring all three fire strikes at each other back and forth. Jeb is quick to grab Amirai by the back of her head and dispose of her through the top and middle ropes, sending her tumbling down to the mat outside the ring where Bob Fisher looks at her lustfully. Jeb smirks but doesn’t see Vossler come up behind him, tying his wrist up into a wrist lock behind his back. He then pulls Jeb closer to the center of the ring, shoving him away but not releasing the hold, only to pull him back towards him, spitting into his hand. BITCHMAKER! The open palmed smack connects with Jeb’s cheek, a red welt appearing almost immediately.

TAYLOR: ”Well… I don’t think Jeb Fisher is the right opponent to use that on.”

LAWSON: ”No it wasn’t. Look at his face. Look at Bob’s face!”

CAMPBELL: ”I was concerned they might double stuff Vossler right in the middle of the ring. But then I remembered this isn’t Carny Pro.”

Realization of what he’s done begins to done on Vossler as Jeb snarls at him but to his credit he doesn’t even begin to consider backing down. Instead, Vossler quickly fires a forearm into the jaw of Jeb Fisher that backs him up into the ropes. Quickly, Vossler charges at Jeb and swings his arm, blasting Jeb across the chest and sending him tumbling over the top rope down to the outside of the ring where he collides with Amirai, who is just pushing herself back up to her feet, sending them both tumbling into the security barrier. Around the Cabarrus arena the fans start to buzz, sensing something big coming from Vossler as he looks to the opposite ropes and back to his two opponents outside the ring. Once more he takes off at a sprint, rebounding off the far ropes and then leaping as he neared the opposite set, flying between the middle and top ropes down to the outside of the ring where he collides with both Amirai and Jeb, driving the trio through the security barrier and into the audience.

LAWSON: ”HOLY SHIT VOSSLER JUST SACRIFICED HIS BODY AND ALL THREE OF THEM SMASHED THROUGH THE BARRIER”

TAYLOR: ”Security needs to get down here and get the fans out of the way before someone gets hurt.”

Appreciatively the fans erupt with cheers as Vossler bounces back up to his feet, holding his arm a bit gingerly but shouting at both Amirai and Jeb, yelling at them to get up before driving boots into the sides of both of them. Having had enough of it, Bob finds a steel chair nearby and storms over to the scene. Vossler turns just as Bob raises the chair above his head to swing. As Bob tries to smack Vossler with the chair, however, Vossler catches the chair and rips it out of the mans hands, instead turning it on him and smashing it into his face. Once more the crowd goes wild as Bob Fisher drops to the ground, clutching his head looking quite incapacitated. While Vossler tosses the chair aside, though, Jeb manages to get back to his feet and grab Vossler from behind, driving him forward into the ring apron.

While the referee begins to work towards counting all three of them out, Amirai finds her way back to her feet and sees the other two near the apron. Shaking her head she leaps up onto a portion of the barrier that was still standing and then launches herself into both of them with a cross body that takes both men down. Noticing the referee counting, Amirai is quick to pull both men back up to their feet and roll them into the ring where she quickly follows suit herself.

CAMPBELL: ”That was assault! FLAT OUT ASSAULT! VOSSLER SHOULD BE THROWN OUT OF THIS MATCH YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

TAYLOR: ”If Bob Fisher didn’t want any of Vossler he shouldn’t have brought a chair over anywhere near him.”

CAMPBELL: ”HE JUST NEEDED A PLACE TO SIT! HE’S OLD FOR FUCKS SAKE!”

LAWSON: ”Stop yelling, Chris. For the love of God.”

Amirai is the first one back to her feet and as Vossler climbs back to his own he’s met with a vicious snap kick that drops him to one knee. Reilly hooks her arm around Vosslers head, slaps him on the back with her free hand, and then drives him face first into the mat with a DDT. Quickly she rolls him over onto his back and covers him, pressing down upon his shoulders with as much force as she can muster.

ONE

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TWO

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Fisher dives towards the two but Amirai notices at the last second and rolls away, leaving Fisher to drive his elbow straight into the sternum of Vossler as Reilly quickly gets back to her feet and sprints to the corner, stepping up the two turnbuckle pads before reaching the third and using it to launch herself into a moonsault. Her body comes crashing down into that of Jeb Fisher just as he manages to get back to his feet. Kipping up quickly, Reilly turns to Vossler as he climbs back to his feet, stepping in front of him and hooking her arm around his head. EULITZ CULT! The snap mare driver bounces Vosslers head off the mat and once more leaves him in a position of being pinned. This time Amirai hooks the leg as the referee swoops in.

ONE

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TWO

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.

Vossler just manages to get his foot onto the bottom rope as the referee waves off the pinning predicament. Amirai sits back, frustrated, before pushing herself back up to her feet and continuing her assault on the two men.

TAYLOR: ”Amirai is feeling it right now. Calling my shot right now boys. An all women’s main event at Emergence for the Octane Championship.”

CAMPBELL: ”Sure lets give the Adrenaline roster something else to mock us for. As if pretend Harry fucking Potter and Darin Zion aren’t enough.”

LAWSON: ”Regardless of which of these three competitors make it into the main event I think we can more than easily say that Octane’s roster has proven itself.”

It’s Jeb that Amirai has set her sights on, pulling him back up to his feet and tying him up. Angrily, Jeb shoves her away. When she triers to come back after him, Jeb pulls the referee in between the two of them as a shield, taunting her as he does so. Unhappily the referee struggles against being restrained, threatening to disqualify Jeb and give Amirai the win. Finally, Jeb releases the man who quickly spin and begins lecturing him, warning him vehemently that if he pulls anything like that again he was going to pay for it. And yet, with the referee’s back turned, he doesn’t see Bob Fisher having recovered from being struck by the chair minutes earlier. Fisher reaches inside of the ring and pulls on Amirai’s boot, drawing her attention as she leans over the top rope to shout at the man. As she does so…

CCCRRRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!

The steel chair Bob had retrieved and rested against the ring apron suddenly was brought up and slammed into Amirai’s forehead. Stumbling back from the attack as Bob quickly discards the chair and whistles to let Jeb know, Amirai turns into a waiting Jeb Fisher who moved past the referee with ease, planting his boot into her stomach quickly before flipping her up onto his shoulders, carrying her around the ring for a moment before… ABANDON ALL HOPE! The jumping pile driver causes the crowd to groan as it lands. Jeb sweeps his body around that of Amirai and covers, the fans sensing that Jeb Fisher was just about to steal a place in the main event of Emergence

ONE

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TWO

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Vossler manages to dive across the back of Jeb Fisher, breaking the pinfall predicament at the absolute last moment. Quickly he stands as Jeb pushes himself back onto his hands and knees. He doesn’t see the lightning quick movements of Vossler until it’s too late. PENALTY KICK! The kick snaps Fishers head upward violently, his eyes glazing over immediately. Without hesitation, Vossler sprints to the ropes, rebounds off of them and leaps into the air, placing his foot on the back of Jeb’s head. ORIENTAL EXPERIMENTATION! The curb stomp flattens Jeb, who is almost immediately pulled out of the ring by Bob. Scowling, Vossler considers going after him before finding that Amirai Reilly is still down in the ring and not moving. Having no other choice, Vossler drops and covers her.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

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

LAWSON: ”VOSSLER DID IT!”

TAYLOR: ”I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed. I am. But Amirai gave it her all. All three competitors did, really. Even though Jeb had a bit of extra help.”

CAMPBELL: ”I’ll take it. Even though Jeb got screwed.”

Vossler, recognizing the magnitude of what has just happened, slouches back on his knees and heaves a heavy sigh of relief as he raises his arm in the air, his music blaring around the arena. Jeb and Bob Fisher retreat up the entrance ramp, pointing at Vossler and shouting warnings at him that this wasn’t over.

DRAKE: “HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND CHALLENGER FOR THE OCTANE CHAMPIONSHIP AT EMERGENCE… VVOOSSSSLLEERR!!!”

LAWSON: ”There you have it ladies and gentlemen, we have our Octane Championship match set!”

CAMPBELL: ”In just two weeks we’ll have our very first Octane brand pay-per-view, Emergence where the first Octane Champion will be crowned.”

TAYLOR: ”Vossler will face off against Caroline Burchill who suffered her first loss here earlier tonight.”

LAWSON: ”No one is going into this championship match without a blemish on their records but only one will walk away in two weeks as our Octane Champion.”

CAMPBELL: ”I’d like to thank you all for joining us here tonight. It’s been a good one but that’s all for tonight folks.”

TAYLOR: ”We’ll see you in two weeks at Emergence. Don’t forget to tune into Adrenaline this Wednesday night as well. Good night everyone.”

LAWSON: ”Enjoy the rest of your evening guys and gals. Good night.”

CAMPBELL: ”That’s a wrap!”