ADRENALINE E72 (116)

SEPTEMBER 13TH, 2017 LITTLE CAESARS ARENA DETROIT, MI

PRE-SHOW
ALIOTH STARRE VS. GUARDIAN DEL INFIERNO

The match starts out pretty quickly with Guardian taking down Alioth with a series of consecutive arm drags that has to make one wonder if he had hit one more if Alioth might have ended up back in a wheelchair that he never was really in. Alas, Guardian doesn’t do so. Instead Alioth managed to recover quickly, taking Guardian down to the mat with a hip toss that would have made American Tommy proud. Starre transitions from the hip toss into serious ground and pound, beating Guardian with all the force he could muster to the point where Guardians sides are red by the time Alioth stops, the damage done. Pulling Infierno back to his feet, Alioth whipped him into the ropes but Infierno would leap and springboard, flipping over and catching Alioth with a moonsault that would result in a near fall. Starre managed to get his arm up at the last second, though. The match would come to its close when Alioth caught Guardian with a shinbreaker and then quickly tied him up with the Four Star Mary submission hold. Fighting with all he could, Guardian nearly gets to the ropes to break the hold but just before he could do so Alioth pulled him back towards the middle of the ring and then torqued on the hold even more. Unable to keep the pain at bay any longer, Guardian is left with no choice but to tap out.

WINNER: Alioth Starre via Submission (6:17)

The picture opens to an over heady shot of the Little Caesars Arena in Detroit, Michigan! The newly opened arena is packed as fa as the eye can see and the aroma of Hot-N-Ready lingers in the air, along with white trash from the Kid Rock concert which took place before the start of the show. As “Bulls On Parade” plays throughout the arena, the camera scans the crowd.

HOT-N-READY
DEEZ NUTZ

CASHE
DUCKED
BOWE

G E N I E
ACCOUNT
#110309

WIN OR
SUICIDE

I’M HERE
FOR THE
R I O T

FOLKS WILL FORGET
ABOUT 9/11 AFTER
WHAT HAPPENS
HERE TONIGHT

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW Adrenaline!”

VASSA: ”That’s right! 4CW Adrenaline… not the concert that took place before the start of tonight’s event.”

JOHNSON: ”We’re coming to you live from the Little Caesars Arena in Detroit, Michigan!”

VASSA: ”I can think of about a million other places I’d rather be but here we are! Pizza! Pizza!”

JOHNSON: ”Tonight is the night we have all been waiting for ever since the Four Corners Frenzy at Adrenaline Sixty-Nine.”

VASSA: ”You said it! Coming straight off of Bad Company, tonight on Adrenaline Seventy-Two we have ‘Da Troll Guy’ Mariano Fernandez challenging against the 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence, for the championship!”

JOHNSON: ”After doing the unthinkable and coming out on top over twenty-nine other individuals, Mariano Fernandez will finally cash in his prize for a shot at the belt right here tonight!”

VASSA: ”It doesn’t get any better than this. Kid Rock opens the night. We have the smell of Little Caesars in the air and all the pizza you could ever imagine. To top things off, we have a 4CW Championship match!”

JOHNSON: ”This upcoming title defense has been the talk of the town lately. There are mixed feelings towards Mariano Fernandez challenging for the Championship here tonight but no one can say he didn’t earn it.”

VASSA: ”I’m more worried about what people have been saying on social media today. There are two things that people are expecting here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”What might that be?”

VASSA: ”My biggest concern is the theory that if Mariano doesn’t win here tonight, we may have another Nine-Eleven on our hands as he would commit an act of terrorism. That or he goes straight Trench Coat Mafia and begins shooting up the joint.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. What’s the other?”

VASSA: ”If he wins, a riot breaks out and this place burns to the ground.”

JOHNSON: ”So we’re looking at chaos either way?”

VASSA: ”Exactly! I for one don’t intend to stick around to find out what happens. Don’t mind me when I leave at the end of the match if permitted and this place isn’t a wreck.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think it will be that bad.”

VASSA: ”Speak for yourself. You’re old as shit! The Reaper follows you around twenty four seven. Me? I enjoy life and I don’t intend losing it here tonight with the like of you!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m actually hurt by that, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Great! Now let’s get this show up and going because I don’t want to spend what could be my final moments talking with you here at the booth and no action in that ring. Sorry Steve, you’re just not that pleasant to talk to!”

Since the night was just getting underway Sativa was at catering looking for something to cure her munchies. No good going into a match with your stomach growling. She looks over the offered spread and turns her nose up somewhat in disgust. They were in Detroit so the pickings weren’t up to her standard, or tastes for that matter. She finds a fruit basket somewhat hidden in the back. She picks up a bright red apple with a grin. She “shines” it up on her shirt sleeve before taking a large bite out of it, because she thought it would make her look like an asshole. She notice a bowl of candy set up for some reason. She digs around in it a little before procuring a green apple sucker.

NEVAEH: “Heh, sucker, just like Jair-Bear.”

Hopkins appears as if on cue from around the corner as he hoisted his half of the Tag Title on his shoulder. He looked at Sativa with a smirk on his face as he glared at his opposition up and down.

HOPKINS: “Thinkin’ deep thoughts about me huh GG? About how you’re going to do your most to perish me here in 4CW? If not, that’s a shame. I’ve had similar thoughts but more in reaching you a few lessons. Lesson that might set you on track afterwards.”

Jair rolled his neck, loosening it as he stepped closer to Sativa.

HOPKINS: “I don’t mind everything you said. I understand you feeling a type of way with how things have gone in your path. Tonight though, you get to change it. You get to either shut the fan favorite up or you get to fall even further in the hole you’re already in. That dark path you talked about, like I told you on Twitter, I’m ready to walk it. But either way, after tonight we gonna raise each other’s game.”

Sativa just grinned and took another bite of her apple, to look like even more of an asshole. She pocketed the sucker she had been twirling in her free hand as she finished the bite of her apple.

NEVAEH: “Aww, it’s so flattering to know that you are thinking about me Jair-Bear! But, I’m married and already have to deal with an obsession from Redd. But that’s fine, let me run through your mind all day and night. And sure, I’ve been in a rut lately but what can you expect when I’ve been putting on some nice girl act for the world? It’s absolutely draining trying to be someone you aren’t. I don’t get how people can do that ALL the time.”

She takes another bite of her apple and to increase the asshole factor she continues while chewing.

NEVAEH: “You see, now, I’m back to my old self. The same person I’ve always been. A raging bitch who has no regard for 99% of the 4CW roster and staff. I know you remember the good old days, back when I first worked here. Well, that Sativa is back. Should have been back a lot sooner but I had this thing I wanted to bait Lauryn into. Now you get the actual bitch, not some sissy half attempt.”

HOPKINS: “Well I’m happy to see you take that ton of weight off the shoulders of faking niceness. I do remember vividly of your first time here. I want to see that side of you again just so I can put it to rest. Put that “raging bitch” right to bed. I do low-key feel for you Sativa. They tell you to reach for the stars but damn girl, you reaching too far.”

He glances down at the half-eaten apple as he looks back up at Sativa.

HOPKINS: “That Apple that good, huh? I hope you enjoy it. Probably will be a while before you chew something that good again after tonight. Get that jaw ready fam.”

Sativa grins and chuckles. She points at Jair with the hand holding said apple.

NEVAEH: “You know…”

She takes another bite, chewing and swallowing it before continuing.

NEVAEH: “I’ve been to war with Evil, Kota, and Morta. All matches with the potential to kill me. Yet here I stand, enjoying this wonderful apple. You ain’t got what it takes to take me out like that. None of them did.”

Yet another bite is taken out of the apple. She looks down at it with a frown as she chews, seeing that it is almost gone.

HOPKINS: “Worst thing a person can say really is those words “You don’t have what it takes…” because just those couple of words can fuel and detonate something inside someone. I’m glad you’ve gone up against them three but you haven’t gone up against me. You in for a wild trip, hon and believe me, once I finish with you, I will be along those names of those you’ve went to war with.”

Jair grins as he takes another peep at the progress of her eaten apple.

HOPKINS: “Talk about dreaming. You’ll be dreaming about how you blew your chance to complete your collection because you uttered those words. Just like that apple of yours, you’re almost at your end.”

Sativa nods her head and grins.

NEVAEH: “Yeah it can light a fire inside someone. It lit a fire inside of those three. One beat me. Can you do it? Maybe, maybe not. Were we having this fight and convo a few months back, you probably could have with ease. But now?”

She takes the final bite of her apple and looks around as she chews it. Swallows the bite and then sucks on her teeth to remove some of the apple skin that got stuck there.

NEVAEH: “Later tonight we will find out just how well you can bring it and fair against the ‘old Sativa.’ But for now, I have other stuff I gotta take care of. Oh, but before I go, I need to put this with the rest of the trash.”

She grabs one of Jair’s hands and places the apple core in it while grinning at him. SHe lets his hand go and winks.

NEVAEH: “There, that’s better. Tootles, Jair-Bear!”

She blows him a kiss and then turns on the ball of her foot and skips off down the hall towards her locker room. Hopkins gives her a death glare as he watches her make her way down the hall. He glances down at his hand, seeing that core in his hand that she had placed there, considering it trash just like him. He was steaming mad. Dropping the core out of his hand, he just nodded his head as things faded.

OPENING MATCH
KING OF THE HILL
DARRYL WALKER VS. CHRISTY CHAOS
VS. ICEBERG VS. KRIS VS. BRANDON BANKS
VS. TIFFANI MICHAELS VS. BRIAN HOLLYWOOD
W/ “SPESSAL” GUEST REFEREE JASON CASHE

VASSA: ”What a way to start the show off with this innovative new match. It’s not ten minutes of mayhem. It’s not a fatal fourway. But it’s still a goddamn clusterfuck.”

JOHNSON: ”I can only imagine it’s going to get worse with Jason Cashe as our special guest referee.”

VASSA: ”Look, Steve. Given the loss that Cashe has suffered in the last week I think we need to be a bit more sympathetic toward the man.”

JOHNSON: ”I didn’t realize you thought so much of Persephone Marquis and Jason Cashe as a couple.”

VASSA: ”Oh? I don’t. I was talking about his toilet. Heated seats and everything. A big man like myself can appreciate the perfect shitter, you know?”

The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back, almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers. He takes it all in for a moment but then adjusts himself as he’s not wearing his usual attire. Instead he’s chosen to wear the zebra striped referee’s shirt along with a pair of bike cop shorts that he must have stolen from a cop that weighed a hundred and fifty pounds less than him. It’s not a pretty sight as it’s all bulgy and hairy and gross but he pays it no attention after the adjustment was made, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the former three time 4CW Champion, ‘The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps they recoil having just watched him grab his shit, those who have their hands out wanting some love recognize that fact as well, pulling their hands back as he shrugs. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.

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

Dropping down, he moves to the middle of the ring and waits for the first two competitors to make their way out.

VASSA: ”*vomiting noises*”

JOHNSON: ”*also vomiting noises*”

The arena rests in a soft gradient of the rising sun, shifting away from the usual lighting fixture.

“One day, Simba… The sun will set on my time here, and will rise through you as the new king.

And this will all be mine?

Everything the light touches…

…Everything the lights touches.”

As the legendary speech given in the Lion King fades away, a loud siren drones over the PA system. “Hero” by Nas starts to blurt out, blasting the entire arena heavily. The lights ditch from the peaceful settings to a torrent of flashing colors. Blue and white cycle rapidly as the beat truly picks up. The audience gets on their feet for the arrival of Killah B. A jet of smoke comes out the stage, shrouding the entrance way.

“Chain gleaming, switching lanes, two-seater

Hate him or love him for the same reason

Can’t leave it, the game needs him

Plus the people need someone to believe in

So in God’s Son we trust

Cause they know I’m gonna give em what they want

They looking for a hero, I guess that makes me a hero”

Brandon Banks makes his way out suddenly, absorbing the initial pop that he gets. He stares out to the audience for a moment. A smile dawns on his face, before he starts to nod his head. He mouths that he does deserve the reaction. He turns his back on them literally and throws his arms out. He walks backward down the ring ramp, begging for more of a reaction. When he gets it, he turns around and the first thing he does and tells the fans off. Despite the verbal abuse and him almost smacking a fan.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring… Proudly representing HIS CITY of New Jersey… He is the ONE… THE ONLY… BRANDON BBAANNKKSS!!!”

Yet, his showboating comes to an end as he draws focus on what comes ahead. He tucks his head, and methodically makes his way up the ring steps. When he stops, he raises his head slowly only to give a serious look to the camera. He enters the ring and heads straight for the middle. His arms goes up, getting another pop from the hot crowd. He follows this by climbing the top rope and sending up the ‘roc’ with his hands. He descends down with a shadow looming over his features. Just as his feet touch the mat, Banks drops to his knees, and proceeds to lean back against the corner in typical form, waiting for the match to begin.

VASSA: ”*still vomiting*”

JOHNSON: ”*also still vomiting*”

“oohOHOHOOOO. ooHOHOHOOooo. EVERYBODY WAS KUNG. FU. FIGHTING.”

The arena erupts at the beginning of Kung-Fu fighting because of the catchiness. As the remix of Kung Fu Fighting by White Panda, ICEBERG comes running out in his tracksuit. His blonde hair slicked up, he goes along with the song to every “HUH!” and “UUH!”, pretending to karate chop his fans before going back to making sure his hair is perfectly straight.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, standing at six feet, two inches tall. From San Francisco, California. The Ice Daddy Mack— IICCEEBBEERRGG!!!”

ICEBERG continues his little jog to the ring, making little dance moves along with way. Everybody was doing their best kung-fu in the crowd. ICEBERG does a 360 of the crowd with a smile on his face before he hops up on to the apron and enters between the ropes. He unzips his track jacket and does a lap around the ring with his hands in the air like Rocky before entering his corner, piling his stuff.

JOHNSON: ”Ugh… sorry about that folks. Wouldn’t have chosen that for dinner if I had known that was what Cashe was going to wear to the ring tonight.”

VASSA: ”Can we get Zion out here to do something productive with his life for once.”

JOHNSON: ”Our very first king of the hill match here on Adrenaline. Lets review the rules folks. Two competitors will compete until one of them loses via pinfall, submission or disqualification. When one loses the next competitor will come out and the process will continue until only one man, or woman, is left standing.”

VASSA: ”And let’s hope Cashe has a fucking clue what he’s doing tonight.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Cashe signals for the bell and the two immediately move to the center of the ring. Banks snaps off a quick kick to the inside of ICEBERGS leg and then throws himself at the man, blasting him with vicious rights and lefts backing ICEBERG up into the corner. He then stands him up with knife edge chop after knife edge chop which the crowd responds with a WOOO too with every impact. Banks then proceeds to stomp ICEBERG down over and over, showing a mean streak that seemed to be lacking a bit during the Bad Company tournament. With ICEBERG fully down in a seated position, back resting against the bottom turnbuckle, Banks then moves across the ring and stops at the turnbuckle opposite of his opponent. He then dashes and leaps, connecting with a low dropkick to the sternum of his opponent. Quickly, Banks drags him out of the corner after getting back to his feet, dropping down to cover for the pin. Before CASHE slides in, though, he notices that ICEBERG’s foot is on the rope and waves off the pinning predicament, which only seems to annoy Banks more. Climbing on top of his opponent, Brandon then begins blasting him with hard rights and lefts to the face and body again. Meanwhile, Cashe doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to the match but instead has turned his attention to the fans nearby, flexing his “glutes” for a middle aged woman who was there with her child.

Finally, Brandon gets off of ICEBERG and pulls him up to his feet. He then irish whips him into the ropes. When ICEBERG comes back, Banks drops down and lets him step over his back, running to the opposite ropes where he bounces off of those as well. Quickly, Banks hops back up to his feet and leap frogs over the returning ICEBERG, who runs underneath the leaping Brandon Banks only to bounce of the ropes once more. As soon as Banks feet touch the canvas he jumps into the air and connects with a picturesque drop kick, a series that he calls M.A.D. In a daze, ICEBERG begins to pick himself up off the mat slowly. Brandon boots him in the stomach and then lifts him up onto his shoulders, draping his head down behind him in a reverse piledriver position. BLUMPKIN DRIVER! The reverse tombstone piledriver puts ICEBERG out of his misery. Even Cashe caught sight of the move and applauds while Banks covers. Getting down on all fours and wiggling his ass for the front row, Cashe (in his own mind) seductively counts the pinfall.

ICEBERG ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Where the hell has that Brandon Banks been all along?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but he’s got a long road to hoe to win this gauntlet. Really, what an awful draw pulling the first competitor out. But I can’t wait to see who the next entrant is..”

Just as Johnson speaks those words. “Kings Never Die” plays and Darryl walks down to the ring.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, DARRYL WWAALLKKEERR!!!”

Darryl climbs into the ring, and readies for his opponent. Banks, standing across from him having barely broken a sweat with his first opponent, smiles and motions for Darryl to do his worst as Cashe waves his hands, trying to look like a referee but really just looking absolutely spessal. Walker charges, taking the initiative in the match right away, and drives banks back towards the corner but at the last second brand manages to find his footing, slip free of the attack, and leave Darryl to fly headfirst between the top and middle ropes, his shoulder crashing into the steel turnbuckle post. Immediately, Banks moves around to grab Walker around his waist, pulling him out of the corner and then german duplexing him, bridging for a pinfall attempt that never materializes as Walker manages to roll completely out of the move. Both men get to their feet and Brandon tries to connect with the BANK SHOT high velocity super kick, but Darryl ducks under it at the last moment and swoops in behind Brandon, wrapping his arms around his opponents waist before trying to execute a belly to back suplex.

When Walker tosses him, Banks fully somersaults and lands on his feet, smirking and holding up a double B sign. Meanwhile, Darryl thinks the move has connected and gets back to his feet with a grin on his face only to turn around and find Brandon standing there before him. Banks makes a jerk off motion with his right hand and then boots Walker in the stomach, driving him down to the mat face first with a DDT. He then moves to the corner and the fans climb to their feet in anticipation of what is coming next. As Walker slowly climbs back up to his own feet he steps on wobbly legs away from Banks with his back to his opponent. But then, he drifts back in the direction of Banks and CRACK! BANK SHOT! Walker goes down and Banks dives across his second opponent of the night as Cashe this time slides in and stops with his head resting on his left hand, propping it up, and his left knee bent so that his foot is touching the inside of his knee, posing like he was one of those french girls people are always painting. After a moment, Cashe barks a laugh and then slaps the mat three times.

DARRYL WALKER ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Boy that was one hell of a super kick. I’m not sure Walker knows where he is anymore.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”

VASSA: ”Yeah, of course, after he gets backstage and buries his face between those tiddies of Penny’s.”

JOHNSON: ”Anyway. That’s two down, five to go for Brandon Banks. Can he do it? I can’t imagine he can if Cashe keeps wafting his ball stank in the direction of the competitors while he’s counting pinfall attempts.”

VASSA: ”For fucks sake Steve, who’s next?”

The lights get cut off leaving the inside of the arena pitch black. Suddenly, bright white lights shine down from the screen atop the stage and “Pure Morning” starts to blast through the arena speakers. As the smoke around the screen fades the word ‘PURE’ can be seen flashing across it in big black letters against a white background. Kris steps through the curtain, his eyes down at the ground, and out onto the stage as the words of the song start. The lights around the edge of the stage send bright white pillars of light up to the ceiling of the arena, and he stops between them at the top of the ramp.

POWERS: ”Weighing in at one hundred ninety-nine pounds, from San Diego, California, ‘The Patron Saint of Discord’, KKRRIISS!!!”

The cameras come up the ramp as he finally raises his eyes to look out at the arena. The camera passes him, circling around his side to see the black letters on his white shorts reading “KRIS” down his right leg. We get behind him as he starts walking down the ramp, the back of his jacket displaying the exact same message at the screen above him. He makes his way down the center of the ramp, not making eye contact with any of the fans that reach out for his hand or try to taunt him on his way to the ring. At ringside, he takes two quick steps, rolling under the bottom rope and then hopping up to run across the the ring. He crosses to the corner, and leaps easily onto the middle turnbuckle, holding his hands out to his sides and antagonizing the negative crowd reaction. As he hops down he turns back to face his opponent and CRACK! BANK SHOT! Kris drops immediately and Banks dives across him. Cashe, stunned, actually does a halfway decent job of counting the pinfall this time.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

At the absolute last second Kris manages to get his foot on the rope. The crowd groans, thinking that they were about to see one of the quickest pitfalls in the history of 4CW but alas, it was to no avail. Banks, though, realizes that he needs to start conserving his energy. He’s quick to pull Kris back up to his feet after the unsuccessful pinfall attempt, backing him up into the corner where he can methodically wear him down with punches and kicks to the face and abdomen. Just when it looks like Banks is about to stomp him down into a seated position much like he had done to ICEBERG earlier, Kris manages to catch Banks attempt at a kick, shaking his head and before tossing his leg down and throwing himself out of the corner, connecting cleanly with a clothesline that knocks Banks down to the mat for the first time since he had made his way out to the ring. Both men lie in near the corner, barely moving at first. The crowd stomps and claps, encouraging Banks along while booing Kris whenever he begins to start to work his way back up to his feet. It’s Kris who gets there first.

Banks is shortly behind, eating a right hand from Kris before connecting with one of his own. Then Kris connects with another right hand and Banks fires back once more. Back and forth the two trade strikes in the center of the ring like two tennis players volleying back and forth in a heated exchange. It’s Kris who gets the advantage and lands three consecutive strikes that back Banks up into the ropes. Kris whips him across the ring and then bounces off the opposite ropes. The two charge full speed at each other until a loud SMACK! reverberates throughout the arena. Everything seems to slow down as the crowd erupts with boo’s. DISCORDIAN KNEE! Banks buckles as soon as the move connects and Kris dives across him. Cashe, like a toddler who is getting bored, bend over and looks at the pinning predicament from between his legs, slapping the mat three times before letting rip the loudest fart anyone had ever heard in their entire life.

BRANDON BANKS ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Solid run for Brandon Banks. Taking out two competitors and nearly taking out Kris with that Bank Shot when Kris turned around right after he made his was to the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Certainly no shame in his performance but you have to imagine he’s going to be disappointed.”

VASSA: ”Eh… who the fuck cares. NEEEEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXTTTTTTT”

“B-b-b-b-b-back-back-back”

“B-b-b-b-b-back-back-back”

“B-b-b-b-b-back-back-back”

“Cold and black inside this coffin”

“‘Cause you all try to keep me down”

“How it feels to be FORGOTTEN”

“BUT YOU’LL NEVER FORGET ME NOW”

Skillet’s “Back From The Dead” continues over the sound system as Christy parts the curtains, getting a pop from the fans. Slowly walking to the center of the stage she removes the hood of her hoodie and makes a quick glance over to the crowd, that continues to pop in a mixed reaction.

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring… Hailing from Laughlin, Nevada… ‘The Star Struck Princess’… CHRISTY CCHHAAOOSS!!!”

Christy smirks rubbing her chin before continuing her way down the ramp. Stopping at the steps, she removes her hoodie and tosses it back-handed into the crowd as she walks up the steps. Wiping her feet on the apron, she steps through the ropes and into the ring. She brushes her hands through her hair before holding both arms out and making a quick circle around the ring with a smirk on her face. After that Christy leans in the corner and begins warming up. Eyeing Christy Chaos up, Cashe thrust his hips at her and points at the bulge in his biker shorts and shouts “TOUCH IT” at her. She rolls her eyes and across the ring Kris can’t help but laugh at the gesture. That seems to be enough to spark Christy into gear as she immediately makes her way across the ring in his direction.

She cracks an open hand slap across Kris’s face which only makes him bring his hand up to his cheek to touch where her palm had connected, bringing a smile to his face. He then grabs her by her hair and tosses her into the corner he had just been leaning in, driving and elbow into her forehead before pulling her out of the corner and whipping her across the ring towards the other corner as hard as he could. At full speed Christy sprints at the corner, with Kris following close behind. At the last second Christy manages to push herself up using the top rope. Kris slams on the breaks at the last second but it’s not in time to avoid her feet landing on his shoulders, generally a position he would enjoy having a woman in, but she quickly wraps her feet around his head and takes him down to the mat with a head scissors. Kris fights back up to his feet and avoids a running knee from Christy, wrapping his arm around her neck as she passes by, driving her down to the mat with an inverted DDT. He covers but she kicks out before Cashe can come up with a new way to count a pinfall.

Slowly Christy gets back to her feet. Kris helps her a long a moment later, smirking the whole way until he eats a brutal boot to the stomach that he must not have thought she had in her to execute. In one lightning quick movement, Christy grabs Kris by the back of his head. CHARISMATIC CRUSH! The face first impact connects so hard that Kris flips over onto his stomach. Getting back to her feet, Christy moves quickly to the corner and pulls herself up to the top rope. After taking a deep breath to steady herself, Christy leaps…. AND CONNECTS! STAR STRUCK! Immediately Christy hooks the leg, not moving off of him after landing the high risk maneuver. Cashe, ever jealous of people who can do high flying stuff, does a simple forward tumble in the ring before counting the pinfall in Christy’s favor. Not pleased with the sight that looks like a mouse stuffed down his shorts, the crowd boo’s Cashe and then cheers Christy as the elimination is announced.

KRIS ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”*vomiting noises*”

JOHNSON: ”Told you you shouldn’t have eaten that second pizza.”

VASSA: ”Ughhhhh fuck *gags* you *gags more* Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”Whether it’s shitting himself in the ring or walking around looking like he’s got a gerbil stuffed down his tights spandex bike shorts, Jason Cashe always makes things interesting that’s or sure.”

The lights fade out inside of the arena as “Swish Swish” begins to play and Tiffani Michaels steps out from behind the curtain. She is dressed in her ring gear with a short fitted leather jacket that she is holding with the tips of her fingertips as she looks out at the crowd of people greeting her with a mixed reaction of cat calls and cheers. She tosses her head back, letting her blonde hair fall across her shoulders, before she walks down along the ramp where some of the fans reach out attempting to brush up against her for a brief moment.

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring, from Los Angeles, California… TIFFANI MMIICCHHAAEELLSS!!!”

Tiffani approaches closer to the ring as she makes her way up the steel steps, pausing for a brief moment as she looks out towards the crowd, before she steps up onto the apron and carefully makes her way through the ropes. She walks towards the middle of the ring as she removes her leather jacket handing it off to someone standing outside of the ring. The lights come back inside of the arena as she walks around the ring stretching her arms out in preparation for her match. Christy Chaos sizes her up, mimicking her walk around the ring as the two women give each other a nod and then meet in the center of the ring, tying each other up. Michaels forces Chaos back against the ropes, driving multiple forearms into her face once she’s there before dropping down and rolling her up in a small package pin. Instead of counting, Cashe admires the two women tangled up like it’s a game of twister with a smirk on his face. Approaching the two women casually he reaches down and “gooses” Tiffani, causing her to yelp and let go of the pinning hold that she had Christy tied up in.

Looking away innocently, Cashe smirks when Tiffani taps him on the shoulder. She then begins to berate him for what he did, only to be pulled down into a roll up pinfall attempt by Christy Chaos as well. Being fair and objective, Cashe admires Christy for a moment and then reaches down and “gooses her as well” causing her to let go of the roll up without any count being made either. Thrusting his hips forward as Christy stands up, he points to his groin and asks her if she wants to pet his hamster. To which Christy responds with a slap across Cashe’s face that draws an amused response from the crowd. When Christy finally turns around she walks into a standing Tiffani Michaels who kicks her in the stomach. THE FACE LIFT! Tiffani’s signature maneuver lays Christy Chaos out flat. Feeling the momentum shift in her favor and knowing that there was only one more competitor left to go after Christy if she could pick up the win, Tiffani moved away from her and motioned for Christy to get up. Almost seeming to oblige her, Christy begins to work her way back to her feet. As she does, Tiff takes off towards the ropes and springboards off of them, spinning in the air as she does so. CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’! Chaos is out and Michaels dives across her for the pin. Finally, Cashe wastes no time dropping down and slapping the mat three times.

CHRISTY CHAOS ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Can you believe Jett is going to fuck that? There’s something wrong with the world when that little boy band bitch can land a woman like that.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s what you have a problem with? But not Jason Cashe sexually assaulting two women on live television.”

VASSA: ”I don’t think that was assault. I think they were both just having a wardrobe malfunction and he was helping them out. Even though I’m not inclined to say anything nice about him wearing those shorts. Christ.”

JOHNSON: ”In any case we’re down to our final two. Brian Hollywood is the lucky one, drawing being the final entrant to try to become king, or queen, of the hill. Does the veteran have it in him to pull some magic out of the hat once more? Or will Tiffani Michaels prove she’s got a bit of her sister in her.”

VASSA: ”She can have more than just a bit of Vinny Vassa in her too.”

JOHNSON: ”Jeeeeeeesus Christ.”

“Perfect Insanity” by Disturbed blasts over the PA as the lights in the arena start to dim. A few flashes of light and the sound of thunder can be heard in the background as Brian Hollywood makes his way from the back. The crowd gives off a mixed reaction at his arrival. Hollywood is in his black attire and is wearing his black trench coat as he centers himself on the stage.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall… ‘Mr. Executive’, BRIAN HHOOLLLLYYWWOOOODD!!!”

Hollywood tugs on his trench coat as he walks down the ramp. As he does, a breeze is released blowing his trench coat back and forth as he arrives to the apron near the ring. Hollywood looks about the crowd and squints his eyes as if he’s looking carefully through out the crowd. The crowd gives off a mixed reaction as Hollywood makes his way up the steel steps and enters the ring. Hollywood looks about the ring before heading to the top rope and looking about the crowd. Hollywood closes his eyes and slowly raises his hands on both sides as if to praise himself or being in a false sense of delusion that he is being praised by the crowd which gives off another mixed reaction. Hollywood finally makes his way down as he takes off the trench coat and rests in the corner, staring across at Tiffani intensely. Unintimidated, Tiffani stares right back at him until Cashe gives them the signal that the fight can proceed. Sprinting across the ring, Tiffani catches Hollywood off guard with a flying forearm that stumbles him back into the ropes. He rebounds off of them and tries to catch her with a clothesline but she ducks under it and ties him up, dropping him down to the mat with a Russian Leg Sweep.

Hollywood is quick to get back to his feet, avoiding a punch from Tiffani, tying her up and using his size to his advantage as he muscles her around the ring before pulling her into a side headlock. She quickly works her way out of the hold and instead reverses it into a rear wrist lock, torquing on the hold before shoving Hollywood away from her. He stumbles forward and when he turns around he’s met with a kick to the stomach just like Christy Chaos had been moments earlier. Grabbing him around his neck, Tiff drives him down forcefully with a DDT. Rolling over onto his stomach in pain, Hollywood clutches at his head. Meanwhile, Tiffani continues to make the most of the momentum and the time that she has by moving to the nearby corner where she pulls herself up to the top rope. Looking over her shoulder she locates Hollywood and then looks back out to the crowd. The fans climb to their feet as they watch Tiffani jump off, in slow motion, tucking her legs in and she flips and lands perfectly across the torso of Brian Hollywood.

VASSA: ”THE SNAPSHOT! TIFFANI JUST HIT IT! GET READY FOR IT STEVE”

JOHNSON: ”One hell of an aerial display right there by.. oh… oh GOD *wretches*”

Jason Cashe bends down to count the pinfall. As he does so his shirt comes untucked from his shorts, which sadly slip down revealing a half moon bare ass shot for the fans looking on from the opposite side of the ring. Almost in unison a chorus of puking, wretching and gagging noises echo around the arena. Unaware of the reason why, Cashe does his job and counts the pinfall as Tiff remains covering Brian Hollywood after connecting with her finisher.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

BRIAN HOLLYWOOD ELIMINATED

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and the first ever 4CW QUEEN OF THE HILL… TIFFANI MMIICCHHAAEELLSS!!!”

Elated, Tiffani stands up with her arms raised as Cashe stands, scratching his ass and pulling his shorts up before grabbing Tiffani’s wrist with that same hand to help acknowledge her as the victor. He then holds his hand out for her to smell, to which she recoils in disgust before rolling out of the ring and making her way up the ramp, celebrating her victory as she goes. All alone, inside the ring, Cashe sniffs his own hand, causing his face to contort in disgust, gagging as he does so.

VASSA: ”There is truly something wrong with that man.”

JOHNSON: ”Impressive victory for Tiffani Michaels tonight though. And did Powers say the first ever queen of the hill? Does that mean there’s going to be more of these?”

VASSA: ”I hope so. But personally I think it should be a female only competition… and should be held in a pool full of pudding.”

JOHNSON: ”Uhhhh….”

VASSA: ”Chocolate pudding. And in order to eliminate your opponent you have to rub the pudding all over their naked body and then lic-“

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ, Vincent. We’ll be right back folks.”

The cameras go backstage to see a smiling Genevie Carlson walking her ways through the hallways.

CARLSON: “Another Adrenaline. My third event being back. Tonight should be my third win. For my clean sweep.”

She stops for a moment and tilts her head in annoyance and clenches her fist before taking a deep breath and exhaling. She then smiles back at the camera and keeps walking.

CARLSON: ”Of course that didn’t fully go according to plan but hey I still have yet to lose. I’ve worked hard for this career. I’ve worked hard for 4CW. If my time away has shown me anything it’s that even the most underestimated individuals can rise to the top. Just look at Manny. Fighting Bronx here tonight for the top prize when last year in the Warzone people like me made sure to have him hanging from the rafters by his pants.”

She stopped again and laughed to herself before looking at the camera again.

CARLSON: ”My point being? The most unlikely things can happen here in 4CW. I’m back to continue that trend. I’m back to prove my worth. That if Manny can rise to the occasion to beat thirty of the best individuals on the planet? Then why the fuck can’t I? Oh and it won’t be about throwing people out of a ring. I’ll pin and I’ll break every single person I have to just to get to whatever prize I see fit? Once I’m there? I’ll keep rising to the occasion. I’m going to keep pushing the envelope and making sure that every Adrenaline I bring something better to the table than the last time.”

Genevie licked her lips and looked around the hallway as she began walking again.

CARLSON: “Tonight I’m going to continue to prove that against Andre Holmes. The only way I could make it worse from my last match? Would be to lose. Losing isn’t an option. Not against this false and fake person that thinks he deserves opportunities well before he’s even showed himself worthy to have them.”

“Let me tell you something Andre. You don’t get to talk about my life and my struggles like you understand me. You don’t get to mimick the words of Marquis the time she faced me and beat me. If you don’t think I saw right through that? You’re dead wrong. You don’t understand me. We don’t have a connection because I adopted a child and you have children. We aren’t bonded and we never will be. We will never be friends and you are nothing more than stepping stone for me.”

She smirked.

CARLSON: “You can drone on and pretend to understand my entire life history but at the end of the day my life until now is completely irrelevant to the reasoning as to why you’re going to win and I’m going to lose. If anything it’s taught you that even when people think I’m down and out, and when I’ve lost? I always find a way to get back up and win. Tonight is no different. You want an opportunity to rise? Earn it, because I’m gonna earn mine and that continues when I beat you. Keep Fighting Andre. You’ll find out your best will never be good enough.”

She blew a kiss and winked at the camera before pushing past the camera man as the shot faded out on her back as she walked further away down the hallway.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
HUBERT SMALLS VS. ALEXIS MORRISON

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

POWERS: ”From Salem, New York, weighing in at one hundred and ten pounds, she is the ‘Anti-Starlet’, ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”

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

The unmistakable 80s beat begins to ring cheerfully throughout the PA system, signaling the beginning of “Let’s Hear It For The Boy” by Deniece Williams as the crowd lets out a growing roar of approval.

“My baby, he don’t talk sweet

He ain’t got much to say

But he loves me, loves me, loves me

I know that he loves me anyway”

Coming out from behind the curtain, a jubilated Hubert Smalls with cat carrier in tow walks out to an eruption of positivity. He waves happily to the crowd as he lifts up the see-through transporter T.E. is in, encouraging the cat to also say hello to the audience.

POWERS: “Wrestling fans and wrestling friends, now making his way down the aisle…”

“And maybe he don’t dress fine

But I don’t really mind

‘Cause every time he pulls me near

I just wanna cheer”

Smalls begins his march down the aisle, extending his free hand out to those on the edge to slap fives and greet the public.

POWERS: “From Petal, Mississippi and weighing in at two-hundred forty-five pounds…he is HUBERT SSMMAALLLLSS!!!”

“Let’s hear it for the boy

Oh, let’s give the boy a hand

Let’s hear it for my baby

You know you gotta understand

Oh, maybe he’s no Romeo

But he’s my lovin’ one-man show

Oh, whoa whoa whoa, let’s hear it for the boy!”

Hubert carefully places the cat carrier next to the timekeeper, thanking them for keeping an eye on him while he “restles” and then makes his way into the squared circle, shaking the hand of both Powers and the official before waving once again to the audience and politely making his way to his corner.

DING!!! DING!!!

With an ear to ear smile on his face Hubert Smalls balls his fists up raising them high into the air. Playing up to the crowd a bit. His opponent Alexis Morrison crouched down in her corner arms stretched out behind her back gripping onto the top ropes stretching out her shoulders. Letting go of the ropes Alexis breaks out into a sprint towards Hubert. Leaping onto the air she goes for a quick dropkick. Sidestepping out of the way Hubert pushes Alexis down to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Quick reflexed there from Hubert. He seems to be on his A game tonight.”

Circling around his downed opponent Hubert quickly drops a knee into the small of her back. Popping back up to his feet Hubert delivers another knee to the downed Alexis. Keeping his knee pressed into her back Hubert placed both of his hands underneath the chin of Alexis. With a look of struggle on his face Hubert pulled back applying pressure to her lower back. Grimacing in pain Alexis slammed both of her hands onto the mat and began working her head forward to alleviate some of the pressure on her lower back. The referee began checking with Alexis to see if she is ready to give up. Shaking her head no she continues to push her head down as hard as she can. Reaching out for the bottom rope that is just out of reach of her finger tips. Clawing at the mat Alexis continues inching her way closer to the ropes. Hubert locks the hold in tighter. Adjusting his knee Hubert continues to pull back his knuckles going white from the pressure.

JOHNSON: ”Hubert is really working on the lower back of his opponent. Alexis, appears on the brink of giving up here.”

VASSA: ”It doesn’t seem as if he has his grip fully locked in. If he can get in the right position here this match could be over in seconds.”

Rocking forward, and backwards, Hubert was working on ending the match right here. On the fifth backwards rock Hubert lost his grip under the neck of Alexis flopping backwards onto the map. Seeing her shot Alexis quickly drug herself to the bottom rope wrapping both her arms around it she slid out under the bottom. Hubert jumped back up to his feet with a look of disbelief on his face he brought both his hands up to the side of his head.

VASSA: ”What a break there for Alexis Morrison. Hubert never fully sunk the hold in as he was rocking backwards he lost his grip and gave Alexis the shot she needed to get to the ropes.”

JOHNSON: ”Now, let’s see how effective Alexis can be after the damage she absorbed.”

Pulling herself back to her feet Alexis placed both her hands on her lower back as she entered the ring. Shifting from side to side she began working the knots out of her back. Inches apart from each other the two quickly engaged in a collar and elbow tie up. Pushing back and forth Hubert used his size to drop Alexis down to one knee. Shifting her weight Alexis adjusted herself positioning her head underneath the chin of Hubert. Using all of her strength Alexis was able to work herself back up to her feet. Quickly dropping down to her knees Alexis was able to pull Huberts jaw down into the top of her head sending him staggering backwards. Quickly rushing forward Alexis began peppering Hubert with leg kicks. Going back and forth between inside, and outside kicks. Focusing mainly on his right leg.

JOHNSON: ”Alexis is hard at work on right leg of her taller opponent. ”

VASSA: ”Two completely different styles of competitor in the ring here tonight, but each of them seems to have a clear game plan on how to attack the other. Hubert with the back, and Alexis with the legs.”

JOHNSON: ”At this point were going to see which one cracks first. If Alexis can bring Hubert down to her level this is going to be a – OH MY GOD DID YOU JUST SEE THAT!”

After dropping her opponent down to one knee Alexis wound up delivering a perfectly timed spinning heel kick to the side of head of Hubert. Sending him crashing face first into the mat. Dropping to her knees Alexis rolled Hubert over onto his back in one fluid movement she hooked a leg, and rolled over onto his chest. The referee dropped to the mat and began his count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Hubert used his size and easily pushed Alexis off of him.

JOHNSON: ”Beautiful spinning heel kick there from Alexis, but that wasn’t enough to keep Hubert down for the count.”

VASSA: ”She can’t let this opportunity slip away. She needs to capitalize while she has Hubert rocked.”

Making her way back over to her opponent Alexis grabbed him by the back of the head pulling him up to his feet. Locking her right arm around his head Alexis shot her right leg out behind her using the momentum to drive him head first into the mat with a beautiful snap DDT. Rolling back up to her feet Alexis went back to the assault of Huberts right leg. Stomping at his calf and the back of his thigh. Taking a step back Alexis shot her opponent double middle fingers.

JOHNSON: ”Alexis is showing us what she really thinks about her opponent here tonight. ”

VASSA: ”Yeah he’s number two!”

Hubert gripped at the back of his legs as Alexis took a few steps back from him. Pulling himself back up to his feet Hubert spun around on his left leg, and limped his way over toward Alexis. Rushing towards him Alexis swung her arms forward delivering consecutive knife edge chops to the chest of Hubert. Backing him into the corner. Taking a few steps backwards Alexis broke out into a full sprint towards her opponent delivering a beautiful bicycle kick to his chest. Sending Hubert flying backwards into the turn buckle his head whipping backwards. Bouncing off the turnbuckle Hubert collapsed onto the mat.

VASSA: ”Alexis calls that move 20 Eyes.”

JOHNSON: ”It looks like she has Hubert exactly where she wants him here. ”

Leaping onto the top rope Alexis used it as a springboard. Flipping backwards Alexis came crashing down on top of Hubert with a moonsault. Crawling back over to her opponent Alexis grabbed Huberts wrist wrapping her legs around his neck. Wrenching back onto the wrist Alexis applied pressure with her legs. Locking in the hold Hubert whipped around wildly unable to break the hold.

JOHNSON: ”This is it. Alexis has Bloody Tears locked in right in the center of the ring. ”

VASSA: ”This doesn’t look good at all for Hubert.”

Gripping and clawing at her legs Hubert is doing everything he can to break the hold, but to no avail. Her face now turning red Alexis pulled on the wrist harder, and harder. Hubert wildly began slapping his free hand onto the mat.

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

VASSA: ”… And that’s it for this one Alexis Morrison just submitted Hubert Smalls”

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by submission… ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”

Heading backstage after the prior segment where we find Jett Wilder pacing back and forth in the hallway. Looking as determined as he would be before one of his big matches. He tries his best to reassure himself.

J. WILDER: ”You can do this Jett, you can do this. All your life has built up to this. It’s game time, time to prove to the world you are a man.”

Continuing to pace now as we pan out to see that he is outside of a door. Looking down now at his shorts and what is in them.

J. WILDER: ”We got this buddy. Not going to happen in these shorts, they will be staying clean! It’s time buddy. You got this.”

Taking one last deep breath he pushes the door open where we see Tiffani Michaels fresh out of the shower after her prior match. Only a towel wrapped around her, body as she looks up at Jett with a smile.

J. WILDER: ”Wow this is crazy.”

Though it’s not yet been dubbed in yet, a boing sound will surely be added in post. As Jett takes a glance down to make sure nothing has yet happened to his delight nothing as Tiffani responds.

MICHAELS: ”You sure you are ready for this?”

Jett nods his head as she walks past him, pushing the door closed as the last glimpse we get is of Tiffani about to take the towel off. But by the time she does she is blocked by the door as we only see Jett’s excited reaction.

J. WILDER: ”Oh God!”

The parking structure for the Little Caesars Arena was eerily quiet, even the fans sat in silence as the camera focused in on the man they call The Butcher walking towards the arena. He had a very aggravated demeanour to his steps, and his face was snarled – more so than usual. His fists were clenched rather tightly as he marched on forwards.

VASSA: ”Oh jesus christ, what in the hell is this lunatic doing here? He’s not on the show tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”Would you like to tell him to go home Vinny? From the looks of it I’m sure he would just love to see you. ”

VASSA: ”Fuuuuck that.”

Dakota continues through the parking structure, the anger seemingly boiling underneath the surface with every step. The butcher’s head begins to tick, as he starts to mutter unrecognizable words underneath his breath – as if he was having a very intense argument with himself. With the door to the arena now in sight Dakota slows down his pace, in the corner of his eye he notices a figure and quickly his head jerks to it. The figure was Gabe Hartman, who had the unfortunate job of trying to get a few words out of the butcher.

JOHNSON: ”Oh dear god! What are you doing Gabe?.”

VASSA: ”Probably about to tell him to take a hike!”

Gabe was apprehensive about approaching Dakota, but like all good journalist he had a job to do. The butcher never stops walking however, making Gabriel follow him like a timid puppy to its owner.

HARTMAN: ”Uhm… Dakota I would like to get a few words with you about Bad Company?”

Ignoring Hartman Dakota continues moving forward, spitting on the ground as Hartman tries to pass him. Giving The Butcher a look of disgust he steps around the loogie and continues to follow the butcher, clearly not caring whether he lives or dies.

HARTMAN: ”You and your partner Erron Wilder lost, Omerta was a heavy favorite do you have any feelings about that? I mean you had to be thinking you’d get a little bit fur-”

Within and split second Dakota had whipped his body around and shoved three fingers inside of Hartman’s mouth, grabbing ahold of his jaw and pulling him close. Dakota glares down into the eyes of the obviously petrified interviewer. The snarl on Dakota’s lips had grown so large that he teeth where showing, with every heavy breath, spit shot out and onto Hartman’s face. Dakota’s eyes were locked on Hartman, but the butcher never said a word – just held the man by the jaw, digging his fingertips into his flesh. The butcher then throws the man to the ground, before pushing his way through the doors of the arena – leaving Hartman in a pool of his own piss of the parking structure floor.

The audience is abuzz with excitement, curiosity and a bit of disgust from what they just saw and then the red and yellow lights flash on and Number Girl’s Tattoo Ari comes on. Kimitsu Zombie walks out with a t shirt over her ring attire. She holds up her big bottle of shochu and slowly walks to the ring taking in the audience’s mixed reaction to her. She scans a few of the audience members as she walks down to the ring and give a few of the women a sip from her bottle. She spots a guy with a sign about American Tommy and she snatches it up and throws it into the distance before giving him the evil eye. She makes her way into the ring and raises her arms up as the song dies down and the audience gets louder with their cheers and jeers. She laughs at she takes another drink and gets the microphone.

ZOMBIE: “So tonight I’m facing Dean Judas again and not only that. I’m facing his delusions, and his ego, and finally his pride. That’s a big opponent right there and you just can’t imagine how hard it must of been for him to lose on his debut match here. Well… you can since he won’t shut up with the excuses about it. Anyway he has managed to scrape himself up into some shadow of his promise and got his rematch with me. I wonder what it will do to him when he loses again?”

Kimitsu shrugs and leans up against the ropes facing the entranceway.

ZOMBIE: “I am in the business of exposing people to their true natures. He can talk himself up all he wants and call out as many people that are way above him as he dares but no one is paying attention to Dean. I proved that he is all talk and no substance and this time I will not leave any doubt in his mind. He is just not better than me. He wants to claim my loss after was because of him but no. I only lost because I was facing someone that was my equal and they got the better of me. It wasn’t because I was so drained from facing Dean Judas on the previous show. No, I was out getting ready for the next one. I have already started doing that right now because I know that I’ll probably end Dean’s whole career after tonight because he can’t take losing to me again.”

She climbs up on the top turnbuckle and sits.

ZOMBIE: “My focus will be on Amber Ryan when I beat Dean for the contendership. This time I can’t get caught up in names. I also can’t get caught up in fan worship. Just two years ago I would have been their fans. Lauryn Wolfe. Amber Ryan. I might have even fallen for Dean’s tired act. They would have been up on my wall and in my dreams. Now they’re still in my mind but I can only think about how I can hurt them. I’m going to be paying close attention Amber’s match because I could be going for all three of those women.”

She turns and stands up on the turnbuckle.

ZOMBIE: “Pay attention, Dean. This is how you call people out. I am young and only reaching my prime. In the almost 2 and a half years I’ve been doing this professionally I’ve spilt my blood in the ring and had my body cut, burned, and even electrocuted. I got my successes and the only thing missing is the accolades. I am championship bound. I know I can brutalize Carmella Wilder into submission. I can match Anastasia Hayden’s passion and I can definitely overcome Amber Ryan’s… everything. I am in this to get my name out there and the Pride Championship is my first big shot at doing that here. Any champion in 4CW should get ready when they see the Zombie name rising up in the ranks. Maybe even Bronx Valescence… Bet he’s never even been to the Bronx. I live there and no one gives a shit about him.”

She jumps down at the crowds excitement to Bronx’s name and she points at the camera with the bottle.

ZOMBIE: “So I have to focus and calm down. Amber and my Pride Championship will come soon. Dean Judas comes first. He’s a joke of a man hiding behind some tattoos and a mean face. All he is inside is a crybaby and he always will be. After this match he will keep crying and I will leave him behind as he tries to kiss my feet. The only way to shut a crybaby that big up is to put your foot in his mouth and hopefully I’ll break it. Frankly, it’s enough to be worshiped by you people. I don’t need someone like that following me while I work. I’m putting an end to this Judas. Tonight I’ll show you why you are just no good.”

Tattoo Ari comes on again and she takes a drink and spits it up in a great mist into the air before leaving the ring.

It’s never a good sign when Amber Ryan seems to be in a good mood, mostly likely due to the remaining bite of a cinnamon sugar donut in her hand as she cruises down the corridor away from catering. In the near distance she spies what looks to be a nervous pizza delivery teenager carrying a box that certainly looks far too well wrapped to be pizza- unless they’re suddenly being delivered with pink bows. With a polite smile, she tries to sidestep the oncoming teenager only to find he makes a rather awkward beeline towards her.

PIZZA DELIVERY GUY: ”Miss Ryan? I was told, that uh, I could find you around here.”

Amber takes a pause, looking at the donut and back to the delivery boy almost amusedly.

RYAN: ”What can I say, a gal needs the occasional indulgence.”

Anxiously the teenager tries to laugh, almost choking on the noise.

RYAN: ”And assuming you’re still just standing there suggests that the box in your hand is probably for me… Strange looking pizza box, might I suggest a return to the original design?”

PIZZA DELIVERY GUY: ”It’s not a pizza Miss…”

Vaguely crestfallen with the revelation that there would be no pizza, Amber take the box and shakes it slightly.

RYAN: ”Well that’s even more disappointing. What is it?”

A shrug from the teen tells her all she needs to know, along with another shake that produces a muffled thudding against the cardboard outer.

RYAN: ”Who gave it to you? I mean I hope they paid you in advance like hazard pay or something.”

PIZZA DELIVERY GUY: ”Big guy, seemed nice enough. Ordered a pizza and asked if I wanted to make a little extra on the side.”

RYAN: ”Do you always take people up on their offers for a little extra on the side or is this a special occasion…”

Realizing the innuendo a couple of seconds too late the teenager blushes hard trying to ignore the comment.

PIZZA DELIVERY GUY: ”It’s not like- I just- uh I need the money for college, he seemed nice and all.”

RYAN: ”So do most serial killers until they stab you sixteen times and keep your body in their freezer for two weeks.”

Unsure how to respond the kid stands by awkwardly as though waiting to be dismissed.

RYAN: ”Yeah, stay away from Dakota maybe.”

Tearing off the bow, Amber makes short work of the box- pulling out something pink, frilly and lacy all at the same time. An apron of all things embroidered with ‘Property Of… The Kitchen’, wrapped around a book titled ‘The Good Wife Guide : 19 Rules for Keeping a Happy Husband’. On the cover a haphazardly scrawled note- ‘Thought you might need these for when you finally learn your place. – Marksman’

With a soft chuckle Amber looks to the teenager who seems unsure how to react besides taking a half step back.

RYAN: ”Now this, this is something else. That guy you got this from, big guy right? Rugged, probably draped in scantily clad women, real wannabe ‘ladies man type’?”

Swallowing the teenager doesn’t respond, rather looking for an exit.

RYAN: ”It’s just… if it is… I’ve got a message for him.”

Amber leans in quietly, whispering inaudibly into the teenagers ear. With each passing second more colour drains from his face and his expression becomes that of abject horror and confusion. Painfully slowly the moment passes and Amber steps away, surprisingly content that her message has been received.

RYAN: ”Yeah, and in that order. By the way, I hope you aren’t expecting a tip for this… I mean cause it’s not pizza so I don’t really feel inclined…”

Shaking his head slowly, trying to process whatever Amber whispered to him, the teenager speed walks away. Amber however takes the time to finish the donut while giving the kid a friendly wave. It was difficult to tell if he was trying to create as much distance as possible or just wondering if his boss has noticed his delayed absence. In the meantime, Amber examined the ‘gifts’ with a vague disgust, swallowing hard, she handled the apron with her fingertips at arms length as though it might be contaminated.

RYAN: ”If this is the way he wants to play…”

Roughly shoving the items back in the box, she couldn’t help but smile and shake her head, revenge clearly on her mind as she continued on her way.

UNDERCARD
NO HOLDS BARRED
REDD THUNDER VS. VIDUUS MORTA

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

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.

POWERS: ”Entering the arena, at a weight of four hundred and five pounds, hailing 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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Cry Little Sister” begins to play as the lights drop in the arena. Smoke and fog billows from below the stage rising higher and higher as the stage and ramp begin to light up in fire in a falling dominoes pattern. The faint shadow of Viduus Morta can be seen through the smoke.

“Last Fire Will Rise

Behind those Eyes

Black House will Rock

Blind Boys dont Lie”

The Smoke disappears to reveal Viduus entirely as he looks left and right scanning the crowd. As the music begins to pick up pace, Viduus starts to float his way to the ring.

“Cry Little Sister

thou shall not fall

Come Come to your brother

thou shall not feel”

Viduus slithers under the bottom rope and crawls to the middle of the ring. Viduus rises, licking his lips before slowly backing to his corner.

VASSA: ”There’s only one thing missing from this picture and it’s the Extreme Championship.”

JOHNSON: ”From Viduus, right?”

VASSA: ”Of course from Viduus! Who else would I be talking about, Steve? You and I both know that he should have walked away from Bad Company with the belt.”

JOHNSON: ”He had his opportunity but in the end Carmella was able to pull it off and retain.”

VASSA: ”That’s my argument! Viduus is clearly more capable and qualified to hold the Extreme Championship. I’m still getting over this if you can’t tell.”

JOHNSON: ”You seemed fine two weeks ago when the match ended with Carmella winning.”

VASSA: ”I was, but now the reality has finally settled.”

JOHNSON: ”If Viduus wants to get back in the hunt, he has an opportunity to get off on the right foot in this no holds barred match against REDD THUNDER.”

VASSA: ”War titties baby! I know he isn’t taking this match lightly. He’s the kind of opponent Viduus should have standing across from him with the Extreme Championship on the line.”

JOHNSON: ”Without weapons at his disposal this man is a force to be reckoned with.”

VASSA: ”He’s a goddamn weapon of mass destruction!”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed he is and these two are about to wreck things here at ringside tonight.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Stepping away from their corners, the two approach each other until standing toe to toe in the center of the ring. Standing a few inches taller and weighing over double the weight of Viduus, Redd casts a shadow over him. Showing no intimidation at all, Viduus then strikes, catching Redd with a quick left to the side of the head and then a right to the body. Pushing him away, Redd then takes a swing at Viduus but misses as he ducks underneath his punch passing overhead. Laying into Redd with lefts and rights to the body, Viduus begins backing him up across the ring. As Redd’s back touches the ropes, Redd lunges forward and grabs ahold of Viduus. Lifting him off his feet, Redd then throws him up and over the top rope, sending him crashing hard to the outside floor.

VASSA: ”That didn’t take long at all, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s like those punches from Viduus didn’t even harm him one bit.”

Climbing through the ropes, Redd is slow to get to the apron, giving Viduus plenty of time to get back to his feet. Rushing over to Redd, Viduus lunges for his legs, only to catch a boot to the face as Redd kicks him with his right foot. Jumping down from the apron, Redd hits Viduus with a double axe-handle, knocking him backwards and into the nearby steel barricade at ringside. Rushing forward, Redd takes a mighty swing for Viduus’ head. Ducking at the last split second, Viduus avoids the fatal blow before throwing Redd the rest of the way into the barricade, flipping him up and over it upon impact.

As Redd slowly pushes himself up, surrounded by fans in the front, Viduus grabs a nearby chair at ringside. Folding it up, he then hops over the barricade and closes in on Redd. With Redd up to one knee, Viduus draws the chair back and takes a swing, cracking him over the top of the head with the metal object. The shot to the head isn’t enough to put Redd down, barely even enough to budge his head. Continuing to push himself up, Redd leaves his head exposed for two back to back shots from the chair, still standing to his feet as nothing happened.

With Viduus taking another sing and the chair closing in on his hand, Redd throws a punch directly into it! Driving his fist into the chair, Redd slams it into Viduus’ face, knocking him backwards into the nearby fans. Working together, they all push him away and back towards Redd. Swinging the chair blindly, Viduus misses and before you know it, Redd rips the chair from his hands. Jabbing the chair into Viduus throat, Redd then unfolds it and places it in an upright position. Grabbing ahold of Viduus, he then forces Viduus to sit down before taking a few steps backwards. Rushing forward, the kicks his foot up from the floor, driving it into Viduus’ face with a running big boot and sending him and the chair falling backwards to the floor.

JOHNSON: ”These fans are getting their money’s worth tonight with the up close action in the front row.”

VASSA: ”Damn right there are, Steve! I’m surprised there’s even room for Redd with all of those people crowded over there.”

Slowly walking towards Viduus, Redd stops in his tracks before slowly tilting his head back. His nostrils begin to flare as the scent of something hot and ready has drawn his attention. Searching through the crowd, Redd begins shoving bodies out of the way until his eyes finally light up like a kids on Christmas morning. In front of him, a small child is sitting in his chair with a Little Caesars box in his lap. Stepping closer, Redd places his hand on the kids head before rubbing it back and forth in his hair. With his other hand, he then reaches down and grabs not one, but two pieces of pizza from the kids box. Holding them together, Redd takes a bite and before he can even get it down, the kid stands to his feet and kicks him in the shin. A mouthful of chewed up pizza flies from Redd’s mouth before his neck snaps down and stares the kid directly in the eyes. With his other hand, Redd slams it down, smacking the pizza box from his head and flipping it over, spilling the rest of the pizza cheese side down to the floor.

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ Redd, chill!”

JOHNSON: ”Viddus isn’t the only one coming for Redd tonight!”

The kid then begins throwing wild punches and slamming his fists into Redd’s large belly. Laughing, Redd takes another bite from the two slices and extends his other arm, pressing his palm against the kids forehead and holding him at bay. The punches begin to miss as the kid swings rapidly. Slowly, the kid begins to tire and just as Redd finishes half of the double stacked pizza slice, Redd pushes him backwards and back into his chair.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

From behind, Viduus hits Redd in the back of the head with the chair, still barely even registering any damage. Whipping around, as fast as he can for someone his size, Redd then squashes the pizza into Viduus’ face. Pushing Viduus backwards, Redd then begins to lick the sauce from his fingertips.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

With another swing, Viduus hits him in the shoulder with the chair, this time finally bringing some signs of pain to Redd by the look on his face. Swinging again, Viduus hits him in the shoulder a second time. He then grabs Redd by the back of the head and walks him back towards the barricade. Throwing him forward, Viduus sends him into the barricade, flipping over the top and rolling to the floor on the other side. Lifting his foot and stepping up onto the top of the barricade, Viduus then jumps off. Positioning the chair underneath his knee, he comes down, slamming the metal against the side of Redd’s head, sandwiching it against the floor.

VASSA: ”Come on Viduus! He’s at least supposed to wait thirty minutes after eating before engaging in any physical activity!”

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t swimming, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Same rules apply. Trust me. I know a thing or two about eating.”

Pulling Redd up from the floor, Viduus then drives him backwards and into the side of the ring. Hitting him with multiple forearm shots to the face, Viduus then turns him around and locks onto the back of his head. He then slams it down forward, face first to the top of the apron.

JOHNSON: ”WAIT A SECOND!!!”

Planting both hands onto the apron, Redd stops the momentum of his head before his face slams into the apron. Throwing an elbow to the side, he drives it into Viduus’ face, knocking him off and a few steps to the side. With his left, Redd swings as he turns his entire body, connecting with a vicious blow to Viduus’ head and knocking him backwards and to the floor. Looking to the nearby camera man, Redd then walks towards him and grabs the camera from his hands. Turning it around, we get a clear shot of Redd’s face with sauce smeared in the corners of his mouth.

THUNDER: “PIZZA!!! PIZZA!!!”

The camera view then turns around and displays Viduus in the center of the picture. He pushes himself up to one knee and as he does, the view gets closer and closer. His eyes then light up and the next thing we see is an up close and personal shot of Viduus’ face as the lens slams against his cheek. The view then turns again to display a sideways shot of the crowd. The feed then picks up from a different camera and we see Redd with the camera held in both hands high above his head. Slamming it down, he cracks Viduus over the top of the head with it.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

Pieces of the camera break off and fall to the floor. With the remaining larger piece still in his hands, Redd then swings it down and over his head, slamming it onto his back. Redd then throws the camera over his head and into the crowd. He then reaches down and grabs Viduus’ head with both hands. Just as he is about to pull him to his feet, another aroma lingers its way to his nose. Immediately, his head snaps to the right and right there in the front row is a family sharing a pizza together. Pulling Viduus up from the floor, Redd then throws him up into the air and into the barricade right in front of them. Rushing forward, his body crushes Viduus against the barricade even more. Exaggerating a bit, Redd pretends he cant control his body from the collision as he leans over Viduus and slams his own face down into the pizza before him.

JOHNSON: ”He’s out of control!”

VASSA: ”Hide your kids! Hide your wife! Hide your pizza!”

Chomping down into the pizza and rubbing his face back and forth across it. the family is appalled at the sight, but still the father holds the box up while Redd eats away at it. Pulling his head up, his face is now covered in sauce and cheese, with a pepperoni even stuck to his eyebrow. Reaching up, he delicately grabs the pepperoni with his thumb and index finger before slowly peeling it away. Leaning his head back, he holds the pepperoni over his face before dropping it straight down into his mouth. At that very moment, Viduus bursts up and drives his shoulder into Redd’s stomach. Immediately, the pepperoni shoots out of his mouth and flies over the barricade and into the mothers face. The woman screams and as the camera zooms in, it focuses on the pepperoni stuck to her face. With both arms wrapped around Redd, Viduus then drives him backwards and slams him back first into the side of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Redd needs to pay attention and focus. There’s plenty of time to eat all the pizza his heart desires after his match right now.”

VASSA: ”That’s easy for you to say. You think he got those ‘War Titties’ not eating during matches?”

Pulling Redd away from the ring, Viduus then channels all of his energy and lifts the big man off his feet. Dropping down to one knee, he drops Redd across his elevated knee with a backbreaker! The weight of Redd alone slams Viduus leg down to the floor as he falls over to his side. Crawling away, Viduus literally has to force his leg out from under Redd. Fortunately, his leg isn’t injured and flattened. Pushing himself back to his feet, Viduus then jumps straight into the air and comes down on Redd’s stomach with an elbow drop! Like a volcano erupting, pizza explodes from Redd’s mouth and bursts into the air like a mushroom cloud.

VASSA: ”There goes his eighth dinner tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s just disgusting…”

Back on his feet, Viduus scans the floor before locking his sights on the nearby chair covered in dents. Picking it up from the floor, a grunt is heard from behind which catches his attention. Turning around, there he is, Redd pushing himself up to one knee. Raising the chair over head, Viduus then steps in and swings downward.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

The chair smashes down onto the top of Redd’s skull, but doesn’t put him down. Viduus then drops the chair beside Redd and steps in behind him. Wrapping his arm over his face and hooking it around his head, he grabs onto Redd’s spandex with his other hand, pulling him up to his feet.

JOHNSON: ”He can’t possibly be trying this, can he?”

VASSA: ”He did it to Perry two weeks ago. Redd isn’t that much bigger.”

JOHNSON: ”Are you blind?”

VASSA: ”No, just shit-faced all the time.”

Viduus then releases a howling war cry before driving his feet into the floor and lifting Redd off his. Everything then seems as if it’s in slow motion. Viduus manages to lift Redd upside down before his weight alone becomes too much to hold. Falling backwards, Viduus drops Redd on his head with a reverse like brainbuster, on top of the steel chair!

CCCLLLUUUNNNKKK!!!

Redd’s head forces the metal of the chair to bend and mold to the shape of his skull. With his feet straight in the air, his body then falls over to the side like a Redwood crashing down to the forest floor.

TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!

VASSA: ”HOLY FUCK!!!”

JOHNSON: ”The Awakening!”

VASSA: ”Nobody is awake after that!”

With Redd on his back, Viduus drapes an arm over his chest as he lays beside him barely able to even more after exerting all of his energy to lift Redd. Dropping in beside them, the official then begins the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”Viduus Morta wins it ladies and gentlemen!”

VASSA: ”He single handedly put the big man from Olympus down for the three count and then some!”

Slowly rising to his feet as “Cry Little Sister” begins playing throughout the arena, Viduus stands over Redd with a devilish smirk across his face. The official then steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air as the lights throughout the entire arena begin to flicker.

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

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

Softly laughing as his name echoes throughout the building, Viduus then rips his arm from the official before climbing over the barricade. As he proceeds forward, the fans step aside, clearing a path for him as he gets further and further away until disappearing in the sea of bodies.

Redd then appears back in full focus, his arms stretched out to his sides and his eyes closed. Zooming in to his face, the camera focuses on half of a pepperoni stuck to his cheek. His hand then slowly comes into the picture as he grabs it and places it into his mouth. Still with his eyes closed and out of it, Redd chews the pepperoni before swallowing the remains.

WILLIAMS: ”…so she turns to him and says, That’s a nice ski mask!”

We cut to the backstage area in time to see Bryan Williams talking to Persephone Marquis, Williams has just finished a story and he seems pleased with the ending. He laughs audibly, as Persephone stands there a bit confused. She chuckles for a few seconds, unsure exactly what Bryan had just told her. They both look to be somewhat ready for their upcoming tag team match tonight.

Bryan stops laughing, taking a few seconds to catch his breath and wipe his eyes. His casual demeanor seems to slip away, settling for a more business approach as he looks at his partner.

WILLIAMS: ”First thing, you’ll notice that I brought the camera crew out here tonight with no sign of a certain someone…”

The camera pans around, and these two are truly alone right now in the hallway. Marquis looks for herself, nodding.

WILLIAMS: ”An unnamed homeless man is not going to be joining us here tonight, because I wanted this to be about us and not him. I hope you can appreciate that.”

Persephone doesn’t say much, as Bryan looks on unsure of the situation. He looks around for a moment, looking towards Marquis like it’s almost her turn to say something.

WILLIAMS: ”…Uh, I said I hope you can appreciate that…”

Bryan coughs, as Persephone finally realizes what is happening. She holds up her hand, looking at her palm for a moment as she begins to speak. Bryan looks on, very confused at the situation playing out before him.

PERSEPHONE: ”Oh, yes, I do appreciate that, Bryan. I love K-pop?”

Persephone looks closer at her hand for a moment, Bryan is now really confused.

WILLIAMS: ”What are you talking about? Are you …did you write lines on your hand?”

Bryan looks over, and grimaces as he looks at Persephone’s palm. The camera can’t see it, but it seems to be that his suspicions were true.

WILLIAMS: ”That’s terrible! And look, your hand got sweaty and smudged up everything you were going to say! Are you alright? This ain’t like you!”

Persephone scoffs, an angry scowl on her face as she turns towards Bryan.

PERSEPHONE: ”Look man, I’m not good at reading lines! I’m more of an action stunt double, I thought you guys read my resume!!”

A perplex look comes over Bryan’s face, almost like he’s remembering something. His hands come up to his face, as he buries them in there for a quick moment. Bryan is not in the locker room with his teammate, but a stunt double. A spot on stunt double at that, really good casting there.

Well, almost.

WILLIAMS: ”What the FUCK …Have you seen Queef? Is she even here? Oh goddamnit, I forgot all about this. You can wrestle right? I might have to just carry you in the match, I mean I have done it before. That guy is wrestling against Bronx tonight too, so this could work.”

The stunt double looks on in terror, as Bryan unleashes a torrid of words her way. She has no time to process the situation, or where she is. Thankfully things are about to change, as the locker room door opens suddenly. The camera pans over to show that the real Persephone Marquis is here!

The stunt double and Williams look on toward her, as if waiting for her to speak. The real Persephone looks between the two of them; bag in her hands, definitely not yet dressed for the match and smelling very much like Vegas. Finally, she speaks.

MARQUIS: “Sup, Goobers?”

Bryan scratches his head, still processing the situation at hand.

WILLIAMS: ”I kind of forgot that we hired stunt doubles. I guess yours showed up, don’t know where mine is at.”

There is a loud thud, suddenly, coming from the locker room bathroom. A rather large, balding, man falls out after opening the door. He picks up a terrible brown wig from the ground, trying his best to put it on his head.

WILLIAMS: ”Oh no…”

Bryan stares on at the situation in slight disgust as Persephone’s eyes brighten, a grin on her face. She turns to Bryan, obviously excited.

MARQUIS: “This is so crazy, Bryan. He looks just like you? I’m shook, there’s two of you, my kid!”

Bryan frowns at Persephone who is still grinning. Her stunt double laughs, earning her a glare from Williams. Persephone continues on, teasing more.

MARQUIS: “I’m so serious! I feel like I’m in one of those movies where there’s a clone and whoever has to decide which one to shoot. I’m whoever!”

She points a finger gun, alternating aim between Williams and his stunt double, who was still struggling to get up.

MARQUIS: “Ooooh nooo, which one is the real Bryan Williams? Which one do I shoot?!”

And right when she points her finger gun at the stunt double, he falls over again. Persephone frowns.

MARQUIS: “I guess you can probably maybe say he isn’t the real Bryan, fine.”

Bryan chuckles for a second.

WILLIAMS: ”It’s a shame that wasn’t a real gun, that would be a tragedy if I got shot for real.”

Again, he nervously chuckles after finishing his sentence. Persephone stares at Bryan for a moment before laughing loudly. He joins in on the laughter, and Persephone’s stunt double looks at the two of them with a confused expression. Her not understanding the joke at all forces the two of them to cease laughing. Persephone looks annoyed at her stunt double while Bryan coughs.

MARQUIS: “How are you not laughing? Where is your sense of humor, my kid? Your inner self-hate? Geez.”

WILLIAMS: “No, but see? She didn’t laugh at my ski mask story earlier and that’s how I knew it wasn’t you because you would’ve found it hilarious. It was a funny story, okay?!”

The stunt double has lost her interest, it seems, because somewhere in between their scolding, she had busted out her phone and drowned them out. Both the real Bryan and Persephone quiet down and scowl at their other halfs, obviously not happy with the amount of money they spent just to hire these generic brand assholes.

WILLIAMS: “You know, hindsight, maybe the stunt doubles were a terrible idea.”

Persephone hesitantly nods, it obviously being her idea since she seemed the most disappointed with the results. She sighs heavily and shakes her head.

MARQUIS: “Can’t even buy good fucking stunt doubles these days. What is this world coming to? Ugh, oh well. Nothing better than the originals, I guess.”

UNDERCARD
PRIDE CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDER
DEAN JUDAS VS. KIMITSU ZOMBIE

The lights along the tron pulsate while the arena is engulfed in darkness. Each time the bass hits the lights flash on around the entrance tunnel. The beat starts to pick up pace as the crowd begins to stir in their seats and a level of excitement begins to reach its peak. Continuing to thump, the music starts to form a melody.

POWERS: ”Hailing from Los Angeles California, weighing in at two hundred twenty-five pounds, he is ‘The Antivist’…DEAN JJUUDDAASS!!!”

Just as Judas is announced for the match the first verse of the song is nearing its end. Anticipation is at an all-time high as the crowd can barely sit on the edge of their seats anymore. Everyone knows what’s coming but it doesn’t change the hype. The song hammers with every pulse being felt throughout the arena, a series of bright blinding white lights flash in time. Wind and smoke chaotically collect, swirl and clash on the entrance stage until it engulfs the entire stage whole. The chorus kicks in heavy with 808s bangin.

”Oh my God, oh my God

If I die, I’m a legend

When they lay me down to rest, I know I was always reppin

Oh my God, my whole life, my words been my greatest weapon

I know I. I know I, been the coast greatest blessin.”

Out walks Dean Judas with a grin on his face and cocky swagger about him. Strolling down the ramp as the music continues to overpower the crowd’s attempts to boo Dean into submission. Like a man possessed Dean continues his slow walk towards the ring. Bypassing all the fans with a focused look he hops into the ring. Marching towards the turnbuckle he ascends upwards. Judas stands atop the turnbuckle looking out onto the crowd with confidence as they continue to shower him with boos. Pounding his chest like a beast, Judas cracks his trademark crooked smile flashing his pearly whites. Hopping down off of the turnbuckle Judas yells at Powers to hand him over the microphone. Powers gives Judas an eyeroll, reluctantly handing over the microphone to Judas.

JUDAS: ”Shut the fuck up, cut my music. Everyone here knows the drill by now. Every week I come out here, every week I run everybody down. This week. Right here in Detroit ROCK City…”

The crowd erupts into a fury of cheers, hooting and hollering the Detroit crowd was fired up and obviously ready for this epic matchup. Judas stands still in the center of the ring looking out around the crowd he lets a grin slip across his face knowing he has them right where he wants them.

JUDAS: ”Right here in Detroit ROCK City, home of the gritty…where aint nothin’ pretty. This place is a dump, straight shitty. Me, I’m Judas, KING of the fight committee. Maaaaannnn FUCK this place!”

The crowd showers Judas with boos as he chuckles glancing around the entire arena just soaking it all in like he was built for it.

JUDAS: ”Tonight, Kimmy Chi, Kimchi, I embarrass you in the middle of this ring by finishing off what I started the last time we met. You took a good beatin’, I told you that, I give you that. I’m sure your confidence is shattered after you’ve rewatched the match numerous times realizing that there is no fuckin’ WAY you can match Judas in the ring. My power, my speed, my pure athleticism…you can’t fucks with me kid. Shit, I broke you down on Twitter and made you cry the makeup away. Lipstick on a pig sweetheart…”

Judas chuckles as the crowd’s booing overpowers the few laughs he pulled. Pausing momentarily Judas shakes his head glancing down at the canvas. Remembering the quick count, Judas gets back on track.

JUDAS: ”Bring that flat ass and flat face down to the ring so I can show everyone exactly how those little kicks and punches can’t do shit to a GOLIATH like me! HA! She’s about as stupid as ANYONE that’s every held a residency in Detroit. What? You gonna feed me that shit about Barry Sanders? The dude that ran away from the NFL…only trophy that dude really earned was biggest pussy to ever strap that chin. What you wanna talk bout them Bad Boys? Just some fad boys, now they back to sad boys, Lakers forever don’t be mad boys. When I leave Detroit…I’ll be glad boys. BET!”

The crowd rains down the boos relentlessly as Judas spreads his arms open tilting his head back taking in a deep breath.

JUDAS: ”Oh I know what you gonna hit me with. Johnny Evil…”

Just at the pure mention of his name, the crowd erupts with an explosion of cheers. They break down and start to chant Evil’s name.

VASSA: ”The crowd is going bananas, this place is deafening with chants of Evil!”

JUDAS: ”Shut the fuck up. He’s not comin’ out here. That motherfucker out there cryin about…”

Just as Judas is about to finish his sentence he’s cutoff by the sounds of “Shut Your Mouth” by Pain begins to play. When the guitar kicks, pyro blasts from the stage as Johnny steps out from behind the curtain with a smug arrogant smirk across his face, nodding his head slowly in approval as the audience proceeds to go apeshit…

“…The only thing I ever wanted

The only thing I ever needed

Is my own way, I gotta have it all…”

Johnny steps around on the stage for a moment looking from side to side around the arena, with microphone in hand. The crowd unleashes a fury of EVIL chants over and over as Judas paces around the ring like a caged animal.

EVIL: ”Judas…Judas….Judas…you gonna come out here in MY city and talk shit about BOTH of us!?”

The crowd erupts once again siding with Evil as he slowly makes his way down the ramp standing in front of the ring staring down Judas the entire way.

EVIL: ”You talk a lot. Too much. Almost to the point that I’d think you were of a different gender. You wanted some attention huh? Don’t you find it funny how you come out here every week and nobody does anything? It’s not cause you’re hot shit. It’s cause you’re nothing.”

As the crowds cheers continue to boom Judas kicks the bottom rope begging Evil to step into the ring and fight him. Evil casually walks around the ring and makes his way towards the announce table.

EVIL: ”So why don’t you do your thing, impress me.”

Evil walks over to the announce table taking a seat as he’s handed a headset he sets the microphone down all the while grinning at the enraged Judas.

JOHNSON: ”Well it appears we’re being joined here by none other than Johnny Evil.”

VASSA: ”Welcome, welcome! Show some respect Johnson.”

EVIL: ”Both of you can shut up, I’m here for one reason only.”

Number Girl’s Tattoo Ari blares out and yellow and red lights flash around all over the arena as the guitar riff starts and mingles with the mixed reaction from the fans.

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

Kimitsu Zombie darts out of the entrance way in her bosozoku uniform carrying a bottle of shochu.

POWERS: ”Now, weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds and hailing from Kimitsu, Japan, it’s the ‘Little Yokai’, KIMITSU ZZOOMMBBIIEE!!!”

Kimitsu drinks from the shochu bottle as she struts to the ring as she takes in the crowds reaction of cheers and jeers. She grins and where she climbs a turnbuckle bobbing to the music.

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

She takes a long chug of shochu and screams in satisfaction with her tongue out. She jumps down into the ring to wait while sipping from her shochu bottle.

JOHNSON: ”Zombie comes out here tonight to showcase to the world that she is ready to take on that next step in her career being the Pride Championship. I have a feeling that this young lady is going to impress tonight.”

VASSA: ”I think she can take a good beating. That’s about it.”

EVIL: ”All I’ll say is Judas runs his fuckin’ mouth too much.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Just as the bell rings Judas rushes Zombie and plows her over with a vicious boot to the head. Zombie looks lifeless momentarily as she stirs and shakes off the cobwebs. Standing in the center of the ring Judas soaks in the boos from the crowd.

JOHNSON: ”Big shot from Judas to open this one up.”

VASSA: ”These two have traded shots on Twitter like that nerd Tommy trades Pokemon cards backstage.”

EVIL: ”Look at him, all cocky. Yeah, pay attention to your match!”

Just as Judas makes his way to the ropes offering Evil to come in once more he’s hit from behind by Zombie with a vicious roundhouse kick to the back of the head. Judas’ head bounces off of the top rope and he stumbles backwards. Zombie hops from the second rope, to the top rope turnbuckle, gains her balance, leaps into a 180 degree spin drilling Judas in the jaw with a knee.

JOHNSON: ”WOW! What a tremendous maneuver! Can’t say I didn’t tell you so but I done told you so!”

VASSA: ”Relax.”

Zombie stalks Judas and doesn’t let up as the bigger man gets up to his feet. Using the ropes for leverage Judas hoists his body up and quickly Kimitsu rushes him and drills him in the legs with a dropkick bringing him to his knees as she runs the ropes and follows up with a quickly timed dropkick to the face of Judas. The crowd begins to get behind Kimitsu as they stomp their feet and cheer loudly.

JOHNSON: ”This crowd is on their feet now, Judas disrespected these hardworking people and they want his head.”

VASSA: ”Oh, I don’t doubt Judas will be getting head after. Have you been to his after parties? Never mind, we know the answer to that one.”

Pushing up off of the canvas Judas gets onto all fours but is quickly rolled up by Kimitsu.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Judas kicks out of the pin attempt by Kimitsu and quickly hops up to his feet as both competitors come to a standstill and glare at one another. The crowd begins to show their approval for both of the superstar’s efforts thus far. Judas grins and quickly cuts the crowd off by drilling Kimitsu with a clothesline that gets him heat. Judas lifts up Kimitsu by the hair and smacks her around a little bit, squeezing her cheeks together he piefaces her into the corner and then hits her with a kick to the midsection putting the Zombie on her ass in the corner.

JOHNSON: ”So disrespectful. Judas is choking her with his boot now! The referee should be counting this out!”

VASSA: ”I think all referees are scared to fuck with Judas anymore, he straight up said he would break the next one’s face. I think that justifies what the referee is doing.”

Judas releases the choke as the referee finally steps in and decides to break it up. Backing off with his hands in the air, Judas watches Kimitsu get up to her feet and he runs towards her hitting her with an elbow. Judas backs up again looking to repeat the maneuver. Judas charges forward but this time Kimitsu slips between the ropes and kicking her feet up hitting Judas in the head. Zombie climbs the ropes, leaps off of the top and hits Judas square in the chest with a double leg dropkick. Judas bounces hard and hits the ropes as Zombie hops up, jumps onto Judas’ head and hits him with a standing frankensteiner. Kimitsu hooks the leg…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Powering out, Judas breaks the pinning attempt as Kimitsu becomes frustrated she pounds the canvas with her fists, tilting her head back Zombie unleashes a primal scream that thunders through the arena.

JOHNSON: ”Zombie getting frustrated here.”

VASSA: ”Not gonna lie, she’s cute angry.”

Zombie starts to lift up Judas as she yells at him. Pushing Judas into the corner she uses her positioning to toss him onto his back with a hiptoss. Kimitsu stands in the corner as she yells loudly calling for the end. Lining Judas up for the Banzai God Kick, Kimitsu moves forward but Judas grabs her leg and hits her with a vicious tbone suplex. Judas bridges for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Zombie kicks out as the crowd cheers loudly. Judas snarls and slithers backwards not taking his eye off of his prey.

JOHNSON: ”Zombie almost had the win right there but Judas caught here with the tbone.”

VASSA: ”Almost is the keyword.”

Zombie rises and Judas strikes charging her yet again but this time he clutches her waist and tosses her backwards with a reverse snap German suplex. The crowd boos Judas as he walks over to Zombie and grinds her face into the canvas with his boot. Still hearing the boos from the crowd Judas chuckles and heads over to the corner turnbuckle ripping the pad off and exposing the metal.

JOHNSON: ”Come on now, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

VASSA: ”Judas do what Judas do.”

Picking up Zombie by her hair, Judas whips Zombie face first into the exposed turnbuckle, her forehead explodes on impact leaking blood almost immediately. Judas breathing heavily finally appears to have gotten it going on offense after the Japanese superstar had him reeling early on.

JOHNSON: ”Zombie is busted open! It’s ok though, she’s been here before.”

VASSA: ”Yeah it happens once a month for seven days.”

JOHNSON: ”She’s well versed in Death Matches, this should just fuel her.”

Zombie rises and just as she gets to her feet she’s blasted by the Money Train.

JOHNSON: ”MONEY TRAIN!”

VASSA: ”CHOO CHOO! That came outta nowhere but I wasn’t gonna miss my choo choo call!”

JOHNSON: ”You’re ridiculous sometimes.”

VASSA: ”Sometimes?”

Judas walks over to the ropes facing the announce table, he starts to jaw at Evil while the referee is checking on Zombie.

EVIL: ”You should go make a pin instead of worrying about me.”

While it wasn’t audible, whatever Judas said back to Evil had set him off. Evil slams down his headset and slides into the ring where he runs up behind Judas hitting him with a straightjacket lungblower and follows it up with the crossface. Right as the referee is about to turn around and Zombie slowly gains consciousness, Evil rolls out of the ring and crouches down on the side of the ring much to the delight of the crowd who practically blew the roof off of the building.

JOHNSON: ”Evil just ran in there and hit him with the Detroit Death Clutch! Judas looks out!”

VASSA: ”Woooooooowwwww…….”

Zombie rolls over and drapes her arm across Judas’ chest for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and NEW number one contender for the Pride Championship… KIMITSU ZZOOMMBBIIEE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”She’s done it! She’s beaten him again!”

VASSA: ”Not without a little help, she was done, it was over. Evil handed her that win, period.”

JOHNSON: ”Say what you will, if Judas was as bad as he claimed he should’ve been able to take them both on right?”

VASSA: ”Invalid argument, he got sucker punched.”

JOHNSON: ”Boohoo. I got some tissues for ya!”

The camera reverts back to the interior of the backstage area where the halls have been plagued by workers but the focus is Andre Holmes walking through the busy atmosphere with one goal on his mind. In his ring gear with the black leather hoodie hanging over his head, his hazel eyes are piercing in a tunnel vision as he marches down the hallway with every intention to score a victory over the former 4CW Fate Champion, Genevie Carlson. Suddenly, Andre decides to speak on the matter looking directly into the camera.

HOLMES: ”You know everyone is expecting me to lose this match. Everyone has predicted Genevie Carlson to score an easy out of the park win over me like she has nothing to worry about. I feel bad for those who support her because tonight I give them a strong dose of reality that everything she said about me was not enough to get in my head. That’s what she does. She takes anything she knows, puts a spin on it, add a bad bitch persona with an excessive expletive fair and add the cheap sauce of unintelligent, uncreative and lazy swag to fool them all.

Here’s the issue with Genie. She’s a little girl who puts too much stock into her own hype and she believes she’s the talk of the fate division, let alone 4CW. I enjoy these type of situations where people count me out. The satisfaction of putting them down below the ground is more of a bonus than what I earn on my paycheck. She’s going to understand that she made the biggest mistake in her life and that’s looking at me like some common dog to shoot down. What happens when the dog can jump over the fence and rip her to shreds? It’s going to make her more aware of who I am and show everyone in this company why I am gunning to take out Anastasia Hayden to become the new 4CW Fate Champion.”

As the topic of Hayden comes up, he smirks. It’s almost like he heard a bad joke roam through the halls and he’s the only cynical bastard to understand the dark humor.

HOLMES: ”I understand being the new player in the 4CW Fate games might have a few veterans looking at me like I’m stupid. They’re already going to question my credibility and demand that I should pack my bags and get out before I even have a chance of proving myself. The ironic thing about that mentality is it’s so predictable. Every time you attempt to put someone down, they’re already inside their head. You can try and dismiss it like nothing or go on social media saying how much the title isn’t worth anything because you beat Bronx Valesquence.

The lesson is simple. Don’t come crawling back because you lost the biggest chance of your career or running to your husbands because you played the victim card or make up an excuse for your shortcomings. It’s about time the 4CW Fate Championship and the division itself get a competitor who is honest, determined and doesn’t take any shortcuts. Too long have you all witnessed the common smug of the resident slums keeping the belt hostage for their own personal gains rather than holding the belt to make it the best belt in the entire promotion. I’ll gladly take that responsibility and put it on the top of my shoulders bearing all the weight. I won’t stop until the belt is around my waist.”

He shoves the camera aside and walks further down the hallway to the staging area as the camera turns around to show the final images of his back.

The Adrenaline feed cuts backstage and Gabriel Hartman is standing by in front of a pair of large video monitors with a 4CW backdrop hanging on the wall behind him. With a smile as large as a child on Christmas morning, Hartman struggled to keep together his composure and giddily introduced his guest.

HARTMAN: “Ladies and gentlemen, I never thought I’d get to say this again, but it’s a great pleasure to welcome my guest at this time, Chris Madison!”

The live audience watching from the video screens within the arena let out a deafening roar that can be heard throughout the rear corridors of the Little Caesers Arena as Madison steps in from off camera. He reaches out and pats Hartman on the back while waiting a moment for the raucous crowd to quiet down.

MADISON: “Thanks Gabe. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

HARTMAN: “Too long!”

MADISON: “Yeah, that feeling is mutual…”

Hearing Madison say that serenaded Hartman; it was music to his ears. He gazed at his guest gleefully before finally getting on track with the interview.

HARTMAN: “Obviously we saw you make a temporary return during the Bad Company tournament, teaming with Mark Storm to take on Erron Wilder and Dakota Smith. Wasn’t the result you were hoping for; in fact it was technically your first loss in 4CW. Did that appearance play a role in driving you back to 4CW?”

MADISON: “Dakota and Erron brought the fight, just like they always do. With as much history as we have against each other in this company, it was only fitting that they had a hand in my first loss. But that loss isn’t what brought me back. This has been a decision I’ve been mulling over for some time now. No matter where I’ve gone, who I’ve competed against, what I’ve accomplished, there’s this never dissipating feeling of business left unfinished in 4CW. It was only a matter of time until a contract was worked out and I came back!”

Just as Chris goes to speak once more, his attention is directed off camera. Gabriel Hartman joins in the glance, his eyes opening wide as a slow clap closely approaches. Moments later, Cyrus Riddle appears on camera, standing opposite side the microphone as Madison.

RIDDLE: “Unfinished business is quite the motivator, isn’t it Chris? It’s the driving force that brought me back to 4CW, as well as the sweet journey of redemption. It’s funny, sixth sense is a beautiful trait when it turns out your suspicions are correct. I saw that look in Frankie’s eye as we discussed this business over the weekend, and what should and could of been. Now, here you are, returning after losing to Dakota and Erron, and now, the third piece of the puzzle stands here before you… alone, and respectfully.”

Riddle stands firm and content across from Madison, Gabriel Hartman glancing between both men as their respective gazes stay on one another.

HARTMAN: “Cyrus, I have to say it’s a bit of surprise seeing you pop up on Adrenaline…”

MADISON: “It is a bit of a surprise isn’t it? Perhaps Frankie got a little loose-lipped after a little too much scotch. Regardless… I guess if anyone affiliated with 4CW can speak on unfinished business it’s Cyrus Riddle isn’t it? Once Boardwalk’s golden boy, but ever since, Mr. Inconsistency. A complete shame, because when you’re on, you are hands down one of the toughest bastards to climb through those ropes. But, respectfully, how often does that Cyrus Riddle his face? Still, I have to stand with good ole Gabe on this one. Why show up on Adrenaline and show your face now of all times? Throughout that whole Omertà versus Unstable saga, with the exception of playing double agent, you kind of took a backseat to Dakota, Erron, and even Rorie at times. Can’t help but wonder what business we have that’s unfinished.”

Madison folded his arms across his chest and tried his best to get a read on Riddle. He suspiciously watched as Hartman guided the microphone towards Cyrus, who was now smiling with a slight nod.

RIDDLE: “I’m sure you can piece that together based off the accuracy in which you just explained my tenure in 4CW. All throughout the time, I was a player in Perry’s bigger game of faction versus faction. The moment I rebelled against that, it was through a police cruiser window I went. On a spirited level, Chris, you and I understand better than anyone about competition. We see eye to eye as it pertains to the ring. Quite frankly, the mention of Atlantic City makes my stomach turn. My unfinished business is that I never properly carved my name into 4CW.”

Cyrus’ eyes cut to Gabriel Hartman for a split second before returning to that of Madison.

RIDDLE: “I joined Octane to prove I will earn my spot here, not piggyback off of the reputation of a casino based product that went belly up because it turned into a cesspool. I defeated many men and women in this business, Chris, many who saw prominence. But you… you’re the one loss I never avenged and always wanted to. During my hottest period of time, you handed me defeat in one of the greatest Match of the Nights that this company has seen. But, as I’m sure you remember, it was not given the stage it should have been given. Our unfinished business isn’t any bloody group spat, it’s realizing the full potential of our competitive drive toward one another.”

Madison nodded his head with a sudden look of approval.

MADISON: “That I can respect. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. You… Even at your worst, you’re a viable threat to whoever is standing across from you. I always said that Perry dropped the ball by throwing us in a random match on Adrenaline with no build. Although, I can’t help myself and wonder if there’s some ulterior motive fueling this sudden drive for a rematch… I’ll leave it to Frankie to try and figure how to get this setup, whether it’s on Adrenaline or it’s on Octane, if it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get.”

HARTMAN: “I was going to ask you what’s the first order of business in your return to the company but I guess that seems to have worked itself out!”

MADISON: “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got your rematch Riddle.”

Riddle smiles with an unusually content satisfaction, as opposed to his usual sinister implications.

RIDDLE: “Bloody brilliant. In the meantime, consider yourself openly invited to Octane as I make John Gabriel look like the large pile of useless shit that he is. Although you’re well aware of what I’m capable of, I want you to watch for the assurance that you won’t be engaging with a broken Riddle, but the one that first stormed into 4CW. However it happens, despite being on opposing shows, I want to make the world freeze in awe.”

Riddle stops and steps closer to Chris, almost nose to nose as the camera zooms out just enough to see him extend his hand for a shake. Madison’s eyes shift down, glaring at Riddle’s open palm for a moment before cautiously reciprocating the gesture.

MADISON: “You can be sure that I’m not going to miss it. In fact, as determined as you look, I kind of feel bad for the poor bastard.”

Riddle and Madison release their tense embrace and stand their ground, neither backing an inch as Gabriel Hartman remains between the two.

HARTMAN: “Well you heard it folks, we’re on the verge of another Madison versus Riddle war that surely won’t disappoint! I think I can speak for most, but I don’t care how this match gets sorted out, 4CW will be treated to a match of the year candidate as these two try and tear each other limb from limb.”

The feed cuts away as the camera zooms in on the intense stare down between the two polarizing figures.

The sound of a running shower off in the distance as we are placed in a rather spiffy looking locker room, one fitting of a champion. In the corner of the sat with his back up against the wall was Dakota Smith… In his hands was the 4CW Championship. Dakota was cradling the championship in his arms, his eyes lost in its glimmering metal. Dakota reaches one of his hands up to pet the championship but hesitates, his fingers flickering as he inches closer and closer to the one thing that means more to him than anything else. Finally Dakota’s finger’s run down the cold platinum championship, closing his eyes as he makes contact Dakota takes in a deep breath. As his fingers continue to run over the belt he lets that breath of air out, as if for one moment all of his problems had dissipated away.

SMITH: ”Hello my friend, oh how I’ve missed you… The entire world has tried to keep us apart – the hole in my chest still bleeds for, bleeds without you… I… I’ve stayed awake night after night just thinking about the day when I could finally hold you close to me once again, I’ve obsessed about you… Lost matches because of you. I’ve put myself in situations that don’t benefit me in the least all on the mission of trying to replace the way you make me feel. But each and every time I come up short, every time it’s just not what I thought, no what I want it to be…I’m numb… So very, very numb. Going through the motions, putting my body on the line and all for what? Just to put you back where you belong, just to take you home! I can hear you calling to me, I hear your beating heart and I know that you’re still mine.”

Dakota glances up at an open doorway with steam pouring out of it, this was the source of the running shower. The butcher was talking in a whisper, making sure that no one else could hear this little conversation he was having with the 4CW Championship. He placed one hand on the ground and pushed himself up to his feet – his back still leaning against the wall. His eyes return to the championship belt and the butcher licks his lips as his eyes filled with a certain kind of wanting.

SMITH: ”Someone else may hold you, but it doesn’t matter… I am as much a part of you, as you are for me. I feel your pain and it drives me insane! All I want to do is stop the hurt, let you fill the void that you were made to fill! Every time I see you in that ring, every time he raises you up in the air and I see you pull away, I can taste the discomfort that you are feeling… We were made for each other, you and I. I’ve known it since I first pulled you down and claimed you mine all those years ago. It’s been to long… Too long since you left me…Why would you do that? Why would you want to fucking hurt me! I bled gallons upon gallons of blood to get you, I left a part of me in every single match just to keep you placed firmly in my chest! You weren’t suppose to leave me, none of this was supposed to happen!”

As if instinctual, Dakota whips the championship across the room, it makes a rather loud bang as it slams against a locker. Dakota was starting to breath rather heavily, his chest moving up and down with every breath. He started the championship while his fists clenched tighter. His head spins around his neck and twitches off to the right for a moment before Dakota takes control of himself. He lets his hands relax and begins to control his breathing – his face twisting into a horrified look as he rushes over to the championship. He stands over it for a few moments, biting down on his bottom lip until blood starts to drip down and into his beard. Crouching down The Butcher picks the championship back up – holding it with one hand he runs his other through his beard.

SMITH: ”It’s okay though… Soon… Soon you will be back exactly where you belong, soon I will truly be alive once again! I won’t let that maggot who holds you now survive for much longer…He’s just a pretender – trying to sit in my throne! No! But not for long, I’m coming for you my heart… I’m coming.”

Dakota brings the championship up to his lips and softly kisses it, leaving just the faintest hint of blood of it’s plating. Just as Dakota does so the showering noise stops, like an alert dog Dakota’s head jerks in the direction of the open door way. Quickly Dakota drops the championship on the floor and flees the scene. After a few moments Bronx Valescence dressed in nothing but a towel steps into the room. He has a very concerned look on his face as he peers around the room. Bronx looks down at his championship on the floor and hastily makes his way over to it, scooping it up and holding it against his chest as he searches around the room – this whole incident making him paranoid.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
ANDRE HOLMES VS. GENEVIE CARLSON

Live from the Little Caeser’s Arena in Detroit Michigan, the cameras pan back to the interior of the arena showcasing all the rowdy and loyal fans of the 4CW audience. They are absolutely prepared for the next match featuring 4CW former Fate and Tag Champion, Genevie Carlson, facing off against the newest debutant of the 4CW Fate Division, Andre Holmes. The cameras turn back over to Johnson and Vassa seated behind the announce table.

JOHNSON: ”Hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Adrenaline! Our next match features a returning competitor vs a debuting competitor in the 4CW Fate division. Genevie Carlson will face off against Andre Holmes as these two hungry athletes are looking to gather more momentum and recognition in earning a future 4CW Fate Championship opportunity.”

VASSA: ”Ah who cares? Andre Holmes thinks he can beat two losers and suddenly enter himself into a division way out of his league? This rookie needs to understand how the fuckin’ pecking order goes around here Johnson. You can’t get two amateur boxing wins then put yourself in the WBC thinkin’ you have what it takes to be a champion. He’s going up against Genevie Carlson who knows what it means to be the champion of the 4CW Fate division and she’s ten times more intelligent than Andre Holmes.”

JOHNSON: ”You have a good point but ever since Andre has stepped into 4CW, he has shown great potential and currently on a two match winning streak. He’s hungry, he’s has a lot of eyes on him and has even captured the attention of some our veterans. Not to mention, he’s loved by the fans. Andre has been looking forward to beating a former 4CW Fate Champion as he said himself, he is on a quest to be the greatest 4CW Fate Champion.”

VASSA: ”Such great fuckin’ dreams in a little ass midget body. Genevie Carlson has all the tools, the intelligence, tactics and strategies to win but I’m curious how this little newbie will put up a fight. Anyways, I already made my bets and it’s on Genie with that hot stinkin’ piece of cellulite ass she carrying to the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Well, we had enough of the debate. Now let’s see where the action is as we transfer to the voice of 4CW ready to introduce our competitors.”

As Johnson has said, the camera angles switch over to inside the ring where the ring announcer stands in the middle holding a microphone under his chin. He nods his head as he gets the cue to begin with the match introductions.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, this match is a 4CW Fate showcase and it is scheduled for one fall!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The introductory guitar riffs cue the lights in the Little Caeser’s Arena to shut off as the titantron shows grey video clips of Andre Holmes preparing backstage. “Relentless” by New Years Day submits the lights to a flashing dance around the audience in synchronization with the rhythm of his theme music. Andre walks out from the backstage area under the bright spotlight in the center cloaked under the shade of the black leather hoodie. He surveys the crowd before nodding his head and walking down to the ring.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Walking down the entrance path, the fans behind the barricades are more than happy to get close up pictures of this respected athlete. Stopping during his walk, Andre kneels down on his right knee then leans his head down as the music gets quiet. The voice of the singer, Ash Costello, takes over the silent environment as she sings the words for all to hear.

“Tear Me Down, It Won’t Build You Up…”

He removes the hoodie over his head and stands upright in a lone wolf like stance emitting a primal scream. The music continues on the chorus and behind him the stage fires a line of white colored fireworks into the air. Andre smirks then walks down to the ring tightening the straps on his MMA gloves. Before climbing up the steel steps to the apron, he shakes a young girl’s hand then re-continues on the path to victory.

POWERS: ”Introducing first! Hailing from Houston, Texas! At five feet, nine inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and one pounds. He is “Relentless” ANDRE HHOOLLMMEESS!!!”

Andre is already on the apron but then he climbs onto the middle turnbuckle outside the ropes of an unoccupied corner. Smoke starts rising from below and covers him in it before the lights around him shut off. A bright spotlight shines from behind him producing that smoky silhouette visual effect to the fans at ringside who love the brilliance of this designed entrance. Once the smoke clear, the lights return back to normal.

Live from the Little Caeser’s Arena in Detroit Michigan, the cameras pan back to the interior of the arena showcasing all the rowdy and loyal fans of the 4CW audience. They are absolutely prepared for the next match featuring 4CW former Fate and Tag Champion, Genevie Carlson, facing off against the newest debutant of the 4CW Fate Division, Andre Holmes. The cameras turn back over to Johnson and Vassa seated behind the announce table.

JOHNSON: ”Hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Adrenaline! Our next match features a returning competitor vs a debuting competitor in the 4CW Fate division. Genevie Carlson will face off against Andre Holmes as these two hungry athletes are looking to gather more momentum and recognition in earning a future 4CW Fate Championship opportunity.”

VASSA: ”Ah who cares? Andre Holmes thinks he can beat two losers and suddenly enter himself into a division way out of his league? This rookie needs to understand how the fuckin’ pecking order goes around here Johnson. You can’t get two amateur boxing wins then put yourself in the WBC thinkin’ you have what it takes to be a champion. He’s going up against Genevie Carlson who knows what it means to be the champion of the 4CW Fate division and she’s ten times more intelligent than Andre Holmes.”

JOHNSON: ”You have a good point but ever since Andre has stepped into 4CW, he has shown great potential and currently on a two match winning streak. He’s hungry, he’s has a lot of eyes on him and has even captured the attention of some our veterans. Not to mention, he’s loved by the fans. Andre has been looking forward to beating a former 4CW Fate Champion as he said himself, he is on a quest to be the greatest 4CW Fate Champion.”

VASSA: ”Such great fuckin’ dreams in a little ass midget body. Genevie Carlson has all the tools, the intelligence, tactics and strategies to win but I’m curious how this little newbie will put up a fight. Anyways, I already made my bets and it’s on Genie with that hot stinkin’ piece of cellulite ass she carrying to the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Well, we had enough of the debate. Now let’s see where the action is as we transfer to the voice of 4CW ready to introduce our competitors.”

As Johnson has said, the camera angles switch over to inside the ring where the ring announcer stands in the middle holding a microphone under his chin. He nods his head as he gets the cue to begin with the match introductions.

DING!!! DING!!!

RING ANNOUNCER: ”Ladies and gentlemen, this match is a 4CW Fate showcase and it is scheduled for one fall!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The introductory guitar riffs cue the lights in the Little Caeser’s Arena to shut off as the titantron shows grey video clips of Andre Holmes preparing backstage. “Relentless” by New Years Day submits the lights to a flashing dance around the audience in synchronization with the rhythm of his theme music. Andre walks out from the backstage area under the bright spotlight in the center cloaked under the shade of the black leather hoodie. He surveys the crowd before nodding his head and walking down to the ring.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Walking down the entrance path, the fans behind the barricades are more than happy to get close up pictures of this respected athlete. Stopping during his walk, Andre kneels down on his right knee then leans his head down as the music gets quiet. The voice of the singer, Ash Costello, takes over the silent environment as she sings the words for all to hear.

“Tear Me Down, It Won’t Build You Up…”

He removes the hoodie over his head and stands upright in a lone wolf like stance emitting a primal scream. The music continues on the chorus and behind him the stage fires a line of white colored fireworks into the air. Andre smirks then walks down to the ring tightening the straps on his MMA gloves. Before climbing up the steel steps to the apron, he shakes a young girl’s hand then re-continues on the path to victory.

JOHNSON: ”The newest addition to 4CW is looking ready for the biggest fight of his career so far in 4CW. Through it all, he has aspired to be the best and win or lose, he’s going to impress a lot of people tonight.”

Wearing a simple black, and red design underwear with a long sleeve black arm wear covering his right forearm with “Holmes” engraved in red across it. His MMA gloves sponsored by tap-out representing his striking background. Along with that, “Relentless” is tattooed down his spine, and his black knee pads are custom-made with his insignia of his graphically designed initials on each pad. Finally, his leg padding covers the lower part of his legs, and his boots are striped in red, and black together.

VASSA: ”He’s been impressive against American Tommy and Keaton Saint but Genevie Carlson is someone out of his league. I expect this match to be five minutes and let him prove me right that he’s just another talking smack instead of hard action.”

Once his music fades away, Andre is pacing back and forth near the ropes of his corner. He’s warming up for the match and looks to be in the best mind frame and shape at the time. The Detroit crowd are all on his side as they cheer and chant his name giving him a great smile on his face.

“ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES!

Immediately silencing the supportive audience is the beginning of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina booming out of the arena’s surround system. The production of white and pink lights take over the visual environment after the main lights dim down to add more effect. Apparently, the crowd doesn’t take too kindly to this certain individual interrupting their passionate moment with the newest fate debutant but the lyrics of the song tells them otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Storming out from the backstage area with her arms spread out wide, a cocky grin stretching from ear to ear and her curvy hips swaying side to side her in swag oozing walk. Genevie Carlson stands center stage taking in all the hateful negative crowd reactions that doesn’t seem to phase her one bit. She adjusts her snap back, blows a kiss to the fans and Andre Holmes who has his eyes solely set on her figure as Genevie twirls her hips around with her signature dance.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

She starts her walk down the entrance path minding her own business and especially doing her best to avoid any of the fans behind the barricades trying their best to touch her. Genevie has that facial expression personifying how angry she’s been as of late and is ready to take out all her frustrations on Andre Holmes who is preparing for her arrival in the ring. Genie climbs up the steel steps then slowly spins along the ropes before hooking her arms behind the top rope.

POWERS: ”Introducing his opponent! Hailing from Boston, Massachusettes! At five feet, six inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and thirty-five pounds. She is GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

Genevie throws her snap back to a ringside crew member then moves through the ropes. She keeps a clear distance away from Andre who is staying his corner warming up to face her. In the middle of the ring, Genie blows a kiss to the fans then does her signature dance as she twirls her hips around in a circle. Genie stops in her motion smirking at Andre who walks forward but then gets held back by the referee.

VASSA: ”Now that my friends is the next 4CW Fate Champion! Class, beauty, talent and the right woman to lead this division! Not a fuckin’ vanilla midget with a shitty ass beard!”

Wearing short, tight shorts that barely cover her ass, tops that are very flattering to her overly pushed out cleavage, that end just underneath her breasts. knee high socks that are always color matched to her outfit and a pair of Jordan sneakers or other high top sneaker that matches her outfit.

JOHNSON: ”Genevie Carlson, former 4CW Fate and Tag Team Champion, made her suprising return at Ante Up then has been on a destructive scale with every intention of becoming 4CW Fate Champion again. Tonight she has another test and that is the newcomer of the 4CW Fate Division, Andre Holmes!”

Now that the two competitors are in their separate and opposing corners, the referee stands in the middle between them. Genie’s entrance music fades away thus the crowd are obviously heard about this great match to start in a few seconds. Mike Powers leaves the ring; The referee points at both Andre and Genie who nods their heads signalling they are ready to start the match.

“LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS! LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS! LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS!”

JOHNSON: ”Genevie Carlson, Andre Holmes, 4CW Fate Showcase. Here we go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Both competitors leave their corners at the same time and while Genie keeps close to the ropes with a more calm paced, Andre assumes that kickboxing footwork when circling the ring. The two athletes are thinking of strategies and plans in their heads until it’s time to meet inside the center of the ring. When they get close, Genie fakes a quick double leg take down forcing Andre to back off then she laughs at that little mind game she’s playing already.

“LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS! LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS! LET’S GO ANDRE! GENIE SUCKS!

The return back to circling the ring and mutually decide to return to the center of the ring. Both competitors lock up leaving a temporary stalemate before Genie switches over into a Side Headlock. She sweeps the right leg throwing him down onto his back applying the submission on the ground but Andre reels his legs back around her throat pulling her into a Scissors Choke. Genie struggles with the submission counter until she rolls over onto her knees managing to pull her head out and back off.

ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES!

VASSA: ”Andre being quick with the grappling. Okay, gonna need much more than thought to beat Genie.”

She gets back up and Andre does the same. The two of them return to the lock up in the traditional collar and elbow tie up. Taking the side headlock this time is Andre who squeezes down on her head before Genie manages to use her strength and bring him back into the ropes. Bouncing off, Andre charges to the ropes ahead of him then rebounds back to Genie thus bashing her down to the mat spine first with a strong shoulder barge to her body.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Strong shoulder barge by Andre Holmes knocking Genevie Carlson down to the canvas!”

Andre runs to the ropes at his right side letting Genie recover and turn over onto her back. Rebounding off the ropes, he leaps over her and allows her more time to get back up on her feet. Genie leap frogs over the returning Andre then turns around when he bounces off the ropes yet again. She attempts an arm drag but he flips over onto his feet then uses the right arm to arm drag his opponent down onto the mat before rolling over her in a quick pin attempt.

ONE

Genie kicks right out of the pin attempt letting both of them get back up to their feet. She ducks under a quick right arm thrown moving right behind him before falling down to roll him down onto his shoulders for her own pin attempt.

ONE

Andre rolls backwards onto his knees leaving Genie to stand up quicker than him. He blocks a right arm thrown then parries it off for a quick spinning elbow; Unfortunately, Genie ducks under it and tries to counter with a roundhouse kick but gets swept off the mat with a low spinning kick. She lands harshly on her back then Andre leaps off his feet going for a standing shooting star press. Luckily for Genie, she rolls out of the way letting Andre land chest first then bouncing onto a hands and knees state. She sees a chance for a curbstomp but Andre moves once again forcing her to crash knee first. Stood up, Andre attempts the Thrust Kick but she rolls backwards. The two are at a stand off with Andre putting up his nearly touching fingers saying “This close.” to an upset Genie.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

VASSA: ”Holy shit! That was some fast paced action from there and Genie is a little bit surprised what Andre Holmes is bringing to the table. She has to be a little bit more careful while Andre is waiting to turn on the fuckin’ flames…but still won’t be enough to beat her.”

The two finally meet in the center of the ring and lock up- no. Genie lands a vicious right knee into his midsection forcing him to bend over then destroys his exposed spine with back to back clubbing blows. Once Andre descends down onto his right knee, she runs back into the ropes behind her the returns only to see Andre leaping off the canvas and hitting her chest first with a vicious drop kick throwing her down to the mat. The impact of the blow forces her to rag doll all the way into the nearest corner.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Hey! Watch the goodies Andre!”

She uses the top rope to help herself back onto her feet and recover from the blow. Andre charges into her presence and delivers a corner lariat plowing her against the turnbuckles even more. She falls down onto her ass sitting down in the corner then Andre charges back into the opposing corner facing Genie. Bouncing his back off the turnbuckles, he comes back and delivers a right knee with the momentum of the velocity straight into her nose!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Woah! He calls that trademark move, “Trapped in the Corner”, a combination of a corner lariat followed by a corner knee. Judging by how Genie rolled out of the ring, it hurt more than she thought it would.”

Genie is at ringside leaning against the barricade while rubbing her nose from the blow. She screams at the fans to leave her alone and waves them off. Her eyes widen as she turns around because Genevie Carlson witnesses a flying Andre who got more speed by bouncing off the ropes moving through the first and middle rope in a suicide dive. He spears her in the chest and drives her back against the barricade thus both competitors are down on the ringside mat from that harsh collision.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“One! … Two!”

JOHNSON: ”Heat Seeking Missle, another trademark move of Andre Holmes, took out himself and Genevie Carlson. He’s willing to sacrifice his body and use it to help his chances of gaining victory in the match.”

“Three! … Four!”

Andre manages to help Genie up and roll her into the ring. She stays in the middle and takes a few moments to get back onto her feet while Andre uses the time to stand on the apron before holding onto the top rope. She turns around letting Andre leap onto the top rope then springboards in the air to drop her down with a springboard elbow into her head. She collapses down to the canvas and Andre lays down on her chest for a quick pin attempt!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Springboard Elbow into Genie’s head! Eli better have a serious talk with Andre because it’s his wife and you don’t want to sleep with an ugly bitch!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

She kicks out leaving Andre to stand back up on her feet. He nails her in the ribs with a spinning back kick putting her in the bent position he was earlier. Andre clocks the back of her head with an axe kick standing her up before delivering another spinning back kick into her ribs again. Taking her head into that suplex position, he lifts her up but Genie drops down behind him. A wicked roundhouse kick with her right leg smacks the right temple of Holmes’ who is rocked so hard he falls down onto his knees; She runs into the ropes then rebounds back to him planting a running right forearm into his chin finally putting him down!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Oooh! A roundhouse kick to the back of Andre’s head followed by a running forearm smash. Andre gave a great striking combination by Genie managed to escape the suplex and counter with that strong forearm shot. Oh, she’s not done. She wants to make Andre pay more.”

She helps him back up to his feet and holds him by the right wrist. A few forearms into his right cheek stuns him to throw him into a corner. His back is glued against the turnbuckles and she charges into him delivering that same forearm stunning him again. He bends forward letting her smash his back in with more clubbing blows. As Holmes sits down on the canvas, she places his foot into his throat choking him in the corner where the referee has to step in.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four!”

Genie helps him up again and whips him into the opposing corner. Andre leaps over the top rope landing on the apron which she charges him in again attempting to throw the forearm. He sidesteps it then nails her in the chin with a gamengiri kick. Genie backs up for Andre to leap onto the top rope again but she recovers quickly and shoves him off making him crash spine first against the apron edge. The crowd groans in awe watching that harsh landing and Genie leaves the ring having a sick idea in her mind.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Oh! Andre landed spine first against the apron edge, the hardest point of the entire ring. That’s going to hurt him big time and his chances of winning might be shortened by a lot.”

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Genie at ringside is holding Andre’s head under her right armpit. She manages to leave his body hanging off the apron before snapping down onto the ringside mat spiking his head with a modified DDT. She sits up chuckling and tapping her temple gesturing how smart she is. The fans at ringside are throwing some harsh insults but Genie stands up blowing a kiss to them thus making them more rowdy. Using her strength, she manages to roll him under the bottom rope and push him closer to the center of the ring.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Yeah! Modified DDT straight onto the ringside mat. THAT is the cunning power and intellectual advantage Genevie has over Andre Holmes and here she is with the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

No! He kicks out and Genie is yelling at the referee to do his job right. She decides to switch up the game plan and go behind him as he sits up. Taking his arms from behind, putting her right knee against his back, she applies the traditional surfboard stretch. Andre yells out as the pain in his back is amplified by the submission and Genie is pulling back as hard as she can. The referee leans in closer asking Holmes if he wants to quit but he denies it and the Detroit audience is supporting him to fight back.

“PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP! PLEASE DON’T TAP!”

VASSA: ”Surfboard Stretch bitches! Andre is stuck in the center of the ring and his back is in too much pain. Just tap. You had a good showing but it’s time for the veterans to take over!”

He’s nodding his head like a mad man. Genie can’t believe her eyes when she sees him fighting back and starting to rise up on his feet. She breaks the hold and drop kicks him in the back throwing him to the ropes ahead of him; When she gets back up, Andre returns and leaps off the canvas to shoot her in the face again with a busaiku knee strike turning her inside out on the canvas. Genie lands down on her stomach and Andre lands on his back again.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Busaiku Knee Strike stopping Genie in her tracks!”

She doesn’t know what hit her and as she struggles to get back on her feet, she gets floored down with back to back clothesline. Each clothesline plants her harder down on the canvas until Andre takes her by the right arm then whips her into the ropes. He collects her across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before dropping backwards delivering a samoan drop. It doesn’t end the sequence. He rolls backwards onto his feet then leaps off the canvas before crushing her ribs with a standing shooting star splash!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Shooting Star Samoan! Andre is whipping out of all of his trademark moves and it is coming at a fast paced motion ladies and gentlemen! Don’t blink! Pin attempt incoming!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Genie kicks out yet again and she’s doing her best to fight off the fatigue by standing on her knees. Andre stands at her right side and starts unloading with back to back roundhouse kicks straight into her chest. The crowd compliments each kick with a “YES” chant but upon the final one, he backs off. He steps forward spinning to deliver a tornado kick to the head but Genie ducks under it and jumps up to land a German suplex putting him on the back of his head. However, Andre rolls off the momentum and gets back up to give Genie a half and half suplex destroying the back of her head on the canvas completely.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Okay seriously?! What the fuck is Andre taking? I feel like he’s doing drugs!”

Genevie Carlson did not expect the half and half suplex. After landing quickly on the back of her head, she rolls backwards up to her feet wondering what the hell happened. Leaned back against the turnbuckles in the corner, Andre gets on his feet then bursts into a sprint before lifting his right leg up to hit a sick yakuza kick chopping her in the face. Genie walks forward then twists down in the center of the ring completely out then Andre starts climbing all the way to the top rope.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”STOP TRYING TO RUIN GENIE’S FACE YOU ASSHOLE! A YAKUZA KICK! REALLY?!”

Standing on top of the turnbuckle with his back facing the downed Genie, he leaps backwards off the top rope corkscrewing into a 450 degree flip. However, the phoenix splash isn’t completed due to Genie rolling out of the way just in the nick of time. Andre lands stomach first on the canvas then bounces up standing on his knees covering his ribs. Genie gets up from behind in the corner, runs to Andre and flips over him wrapping her arms around his head to drive his face into the mat. The entire crowd go into an instant burst of boo’s for her signature move.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”THE BOW DOWN! THE BOW DOWN! THE NATURAL SELECTION SIGNATURE HAS BEEN HIT IN THE CENTER OF THE RING AND GENEVIE CARLSON IS GOING FOR THE PIN!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Hell no! Andre kicks out of the last second and Genie sits up wondering what the hell she has to do. She immediately gets into the mount position and starts blowing his head in with hammer fists. Andre covers up but she just goes insane out of frustration she won’t back down. Quickly reacting, he moves his legs in front of her chest and catches her right arm in between it thus moving her to the side into an arm-bar submission. Genie is kicking her legs off the mat while Andre yanks back with the arm.

VASSA: ”ARMBAR SUBMISSION!”

Genie manages to roll over putting her weight on top of him for a quick pin attempt.

ONE

.

.

TWO

He decides to transition from the armbar straight into the triangle choke. Locking her right arm in between his legs along with her head, he pulls down on the back of her head in the center of the ring. Genie is losing all the air with every second that passes by while Holmes is yelling at the top of his lungs wanting to end her life. She stands on her feet and tries to lift him up but his weight is too much. Instead, she flips over him in a bridge for another pin attempt!

JOHNSON: ”HE TRANSITIONED INTO THE TRIANGLE CHOKE BUT GENIE IS GOING FOR THE PIN ATTEMPT AGAIN!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

No! He kicks out again and the entire crowd are enjoying this. Andre is tired on the canvas and Genie slaps her hand on the mat being upset. She rolls under the bottom rope then stands up on the apron before climbing all the way to the top rope. Suddenly, Andre kips up! He rushes over to where she’s perched on the top rope and delivers a brutal tornado kick into her skull dropping her down and forcing her to be seated on the top turnbuckle!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Tornado Kick into the skull stopping Genevie on the top rope and Andre is climbing onto the second rope!”

So he does. He’s already on the middle rope trying his best to put her in the superplex position but she forearms his rib cage again. Removing her head from under his right arm pit, Genevie bites down on the nose before delivering a strong head butt knocking him off. Andre lands down on his feet and just as Genie was gathering her bearing, he leaps backwards off the mat driving a great pele kick on top of her head giving her no room to breathe!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Pele Kick out of nowhere! This is like the twentieth fucking time he’s kicked her in!”

Andre then climbs up all the way to the top rope and the superplex position is locked once again. Both competitors are standing up and Andre leaps backwards throwing her over with a superplex down on the canvas! Wait! He rolls over her from the landing and deadlifts her off the mat into that vertical suplex position before snapping down to drive the back of her head into the canvas with a Brainbuster!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Superplex into the BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Genie kicks out again and Andre rolls over onto his side looking like the tank is almost empty. Both of them are on the mat extremely exhausted from this match and the crowd are loving every minute of it.

“THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!”

JOHNSON: ”This is one hell of a match ladies and gentlemen! Both competitors are putting everything on the line and neither of them want to quit. Nobody expected such a high volatile, fast paced action packed match but that is 4CW for ya!”

Andre is slowly crawling over to an unoccupied corner. He uses the top rope to help him stand while Genie takes a few moments to even move. He sees her open and vulnerable in the center of the ring thus he slaps his hands on the mat and emits that primal scream. When Genie stands up on her knees, Andre shoots over to deliver a thrust kick until Carlson ducks under it then quickly gets back up to her feet. A rolling elbow to his face spins around then a brutal roundhouse kick on the temple drops him onto his chest.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”SHE DUCKED UNDER THE THRUST KICK! THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT!”

Andre is trying to get up onto his hands and knees. Genie is stalking, waiting patiently for him to reach that bent over position. He does and runs at him attempting to curbstomp him into the mat but as she leaps onto the back of his head, he lifts his body up popping her into the air. Holmes catches her on the shoulders seated then charges into the nearest corner before driving her back into pieces with a powerbomb into the corner.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”BAD LANDING! BAD LANDING! THE SIGNATURE BUCKLE BOMB OF ANDRE HOLMES AFTER COUNTERING THAT CURBSTOMP IN A WAY I’VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE!”

She slowly walks from the corner then falls down on her knees. Andre sidesteps then shoots out his right leg delivering the finishing Thrust Kick into her chin. Genie falls down onto her back and lies nearly knocked out before Andre just falls down spine first on her chest wanting this match to be over. The referee shoots down on the canvas and goes for the pin!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”THRUST KICK! NO! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–

No! The referee points at Genevie Carlson’s foot on the bottom rope and Andre sits up wondering what the hell he has to do end this match. He rolls into the center of the ring pounding his fists on the mat then stands on his knees with his hands behind his head. He looks at Genie who might be still out and then back up to the referee. Andre stands on his feet then takes her by the leg dragging her carcass into the center of the ring.

“THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!”

JOHNSON: ”What a match, my god. I don’t even know what we can do anymore. This has everyone on the edge of their seats.”

Upon the top rope, he tries again. He leaps backwards off the top rope and corkscrews into a 450 degree flip motion once again until he eats only canvas due to Genie rolling out of the way. Genie uses the last of her energy to get up, run to an Andre barely getting up and curbstomp his face down on the mat. His head bounces off the canvas and she rolls him over for the final pin attempt!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”STILETTO KISS! STILETTO KISS! HE MISSED THE PHOENIX SPLASH FOR THE SECOND TIME AND THE STILETTO KISS KNOCKED HIM OUT!”

VASSA: ”YES! YES! YES!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

“Killing You Hoes” by Trina once again plays around the interior of the arena. Genevie gets back up on her feet and has her right arm raised by the referee who later checks down on the currently downed Andre Holmes. She smirks, points her finger in the air then walks to the ropes ready to leave the ring and head backstage.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pin fall, GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Holy balls! That was an incredible match and Genevie Carlson deserved every bit of the victory. Andre Holmes made another impressive showing and gave it his all but Genevie Carlson proves why she should be the next 4CW Fate Champion. A huge congratulations to Genevie Carlson earning another victory on her return to 4CW.”

Backstage, Lauryn Wolfe has her arms folded to her chest as she watches the events of Adrenaline unfold on a television monitor. She backs up, seemingly to carry on with some other matters, but as she turns around, she finds herself looking straight at a woman who had a grin on her face. Lauryn scowls and glares.

WOLFE: “Oh. It’s nice seeing you again, Sativa.”

Sativa simply laughs, finding Lauryn’s irate demeanor to be quite amusing. Sativa takes the sucker out of her mouth and grins.

NEVAEH: “Heya L. How’s the head?”

Sativa laughs once again before returning the sucker to her mouth. Lauryn doesn’t appreciate the question. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

WOLFE: “You think you’re cute now, huh?”

Sativa grins around the stick of the sucker. She replies without removing it from her mouth.

NEVAEH: “Oh sweetie I’ve always known I’m cute. The fuck you even doin here? Your trash ass ain’t booked.”

WOLFE: “Um… because I can still come to the show and watch everyone else? Are you that sense?”

Another rolling of the eyes from Wolfe as she frowns.

WOLFE: “Why do you care?”

Sativa chuckles and takes the sucker out of her mouth.

NEVAEH: “Oh I don’t care. I just figured you would be sitting at home nursing your head. I know how bad head injuries can be. I mean, one did kinda make me wanna be friends with you. Or was that just me using it as an excuse as to why I was ‘nice’ all of a sudden?”

Sativa places a finger on her chin and assumes a thinking pose. She eventually shrugs her shoulders and puts the sucker back in her mouth.

NEVAEH: “Can’t remember. You just might want to be careful. Wouldn’t want you to get another head injury, would we?”

WOLFE: “Ohohoho. Okay. Now you got jokes. Cool. Now, think you wanna back up off of me?”

Her eyes narrow at Sativa as that question comes out. Sativa just grins at her former partner.

NEVAEH: “Aww, what wrong? Wittle Wauryn getting upset?

She takes the sucker out of her mouth with an audible popping sound. She holds it out towards Lauryn.

NEVAEH: “Here you might want this. It’s sour will match yours perfectly! Oh, and I know you don’t care about having ‘sloppy seconds’ since your man is out on Twitter hitting on anything with a set of tits.”

Lauryn just shakes her head and slaps the sucker out of Sativa’s hand.

WOLFE: “Maybe you should do something productive and worthwhile instead of being a sad, pathetic bitch. If you’re here to tease and get a rise out of me, then you’re wasting your time.”

Sativa looks down at her shattered sucker on the ground with a frown. She looks back up to Lauryn and the frown turns into a pout.

NEVAEH: “Awww, you’re no fun! I got Jair-bear worked up and ready to play. I’m sure I can get the same from you, eventually.”

WOLFE: “Oh, really? Because I think you’re delusional for that. Besides, why would I get worked up over you? You’re a tryhard, just like that stupid little group that you associate yourself with. Don’t think that your career is suddenly lit now all because you turned on me.”

Stepping closer to Sativa, Lauryn leans in so that she’s close enough to talk into her ear.

WOLFE: “Cashe did it better last year.”

Sativa grins and wraps a hand around the back of Lauryn’s head, whispering in her ear.

NEVAEH: “And I know people who did it better when we were both still in high school. Just keep looking over your shoulder, Sweetie, cause I’ve got a target painted on your back.”

She grins before planting a quick kiss onto Lauryn’s cheek and taking a couple steps back.

WOLFE: “Mhm. I hear ya.”

Lauryn simply smiles at Sativa as she watches her back up.

WOLFE: “Good luck tonight, bitch.”

NEVAEH: “Thank you! But my trainer had this saying that I think fits here.”

She smirks.

NEVAEH: “Unlike you, when I win. It Ain’t Luck. Tootles.”

Sativa gives Lauryn a slight wave before walking past her on her way to get ready for her match later in the evening. Meanwhile, Lauryn places her hands on her hips and mutters to herself.

WOLFE: “Dumbass bitch.”

The camera opens to an empty backdrop, but just for a few seconds before Anastasia Hayden, the Fate Champion, steps onto the scene. The corner of her mouth harboring a small smile as she looks down at the Fate Championship belt resting on her shoulder. She pats the faceplate with her fingernails before looking back at the camera.

HAYDEN: ”This is what we’re fighting about tonight? Who is the ‘better’ champion? And is this going to be the match that proves it, right? Will it be the Fate Champion, the Pride or Extreme Champion? Three women looking to make their mark tonight by showing the world who is the best champion in 4CW! Is it the one who doesn’t care, the one with a defense, or the forgotten one? So many questions, but there’s only one that really matters…who gives a fuck?”

Ana rolls her eyes toward the back of her head and lets out an exasperated sigh as she does so. She then takes the Fate Championship from off her shoulder and holds onto it by the strap, dropping it just out of the camera’s field of vision.

HAYDEN: ”I don’t and I never will need one match to define who I am. Amber and Carmella do. Carmella needs this win to show that she can at the very least hang with the real wrestlers…or to at least prove she’s the ‘best’. And Amber needs this to show that purposely losing at Bad Company wasn’t a waste of her time and everyone else’s. Tonight she’ll prove that being a loser really pays off. But Amber and Carmella have a common issue in their way.”

A wink from Ana before she beams an uncharacteristic bright smile toward the camera. But like any resemble of happiness, it lasts for a few seconds before fading away.

HAYDEN: ”Me. There’s not a Viduus for Carmella to bash over the head with a fire extinguisher and there isn’t a walking medical liability known as Bryan Williams for Amber Ryan to injure. There’s only me. And if you’ve been paying attention…I’m pretty damn good. I might even go as far as to say I’m the best in 4CW…but, I don’t need to say that. I can let everyone else say that for me.”

Following her claim is a nonchalant shrug of Ana’s shoulders.

HAYDEN: ”And was it is they say about you, Carmella? They call you a joke and some pretty horrific names…but at least they call you something. Amber would kill for that. See, this isn’t really a match over who is the better champion or bullshit like that…it’s a nice chance for you two to make your name against someone who matters. Carmella ran her mouth over how badly it’d hurt me if she won…but I don’t care. We both know that it won’t matter anyways. You’d never stand a chance against me one-on-one, so being a weasel fuck in a match like this…that’s your element.”

Ana raises her eyebrows, as if she was caught off guard by her own comment.

HAYDEN: ”That’s why I like your odds tonight, but I’m pretty good at sniffing weasel fucks like you out…and stomping them into the canvas. And Amber needs this win just as bad. She needs to show the world her reign as the Pride Champion truly does mean something…but she’s too busy chasing gold elsewhere to compensate for that. Amber, you can pick up gold everywhere you go, but it’ll never fill that pit in your soul…that pit that tells you that you’ll never be good enough. The same pit that also tells you that you’ll never beat me. So in a way…you’re just like Carmella. A glory hog.”

One final dig, Ana takes a step in toward the camera. Her cold glare accompanied by an arrogant smirk.

HAYDEN: ”And there’s going to be a slaughter tonight, ladies.”

Another wink for the camera before Anastasia Hayden walks off from the scene and the camera cuts to elsewhere in the arena.

UNDERCARD
TRIPLE THREAT TAG
SADBOIZ VS. THE OUTSIDERS VS. THE HOSTILE TAKEOVER

JOHNSON: ”An exciting tag team matchup here tonight folks, what was supposed to be a fatal fourway is now just a triple threat match.”

VASSA: ”Thankfully so, it’s a bit of fresh air to see such a different match lately. Either way though, it’s going to be difficult for any team here to leave with the win.”

JOHNSON: ”You said it, Hostile Takeover could have very well won the whole tournament if it wasn’t for a timing issue between Brody and Magnus.”

VASSA: ”Hopefully they’ve worked their issues out, because they have to worry about The Outsiders …and …The Sadboiz.”

JOHNSON: ”What’s wrong, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”It’s just such a depressing name, makes me want to cry.”

“Legend Has It” begins to play, as the lights turn down in the arena. It takes a few seconds for the song to kick in, but the lights come back on once Killer Mike is heard. The song is now in full swing, as the lights react to the beat. Bryan and Persephone step out from the back, a spotlight beaming down for the both of them. Marquis carries a rather large, and condescending smile on her face. Bryan, on the other hand has his head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring, at a combined weight of Three Hundred and Seventeen pounds, the team of Persephone Marquis and Bryan Williams… SSAADDBBOOIIZZ!!”

Persephone waits, a bit impatiently, for Bryan to finish with his posing. Bryan doesn’t waste too much time, as the two walk down to the ring. They head down to the ring rather quickly, not wasting much time with anything else. Both slide under the bottom rope, entering the ring as they get prepared for the upcoming match.

JOHNSON: ”Didn’t get to see much of these two, as they were eliminated in the Bad Company qualifiers.”

VASSA: ”Unfortunate, but they’ll get a shot to prove themselves here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Well they certainly have a tough challenge ahead of them.”

VASSA: ”Indeed, two teams who actually made it into the tournament. Let’s see how Bryan and Persephone handle this match here tonight.”

The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area as the smooth sounds of an electric guitar serenades the live crowd before the vocals come.

“They’re the in crowd, we’re the other ones

It’s a different kind of cloth that we’re cut from

We let our colors show, where the numbers ain’t

With the paint where there ain’t supposed to be paint”

The video screen lights up and flashes across the screen a huge anarchy symbol appears on the video screen followed by dripping blood behind it as we see The Hardcore Artist step out onto the stage to a chorus of boos.

“That’s who we are

That’s how we roll

The outsiders, The outsiders”

The video screen lights up once more and flashes across the screen a Texas flag, with the words, “Texas Born. Texas Bred.” “Texas Forever.“ branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is mixed, but there are more cheers than boos, as one final image that is displayed across the screen and that message reads in bold, capitalized letters…..SCOTT STEVENS as the cheers intensify drawing out the man from Texas.

“Our women get hot, and our leather gets stained

When we saddle up and ride ’em in the pouring rain

We’re the junkyard dogs, we’re the alley cats

Keep the wind at our front, and the hell at our back”

Scotty and Stevens look at one another and the tension of mutual hatred is felt as the two look like they are about to attack one another before the Texan extends his fist and the Hardcore Artist pounds it.

POWERS: ”Introducing at this time, from New York City and weighing in at two hundred sixty-six point six pounds… The Hardcore Artist… SSCCOOTTTTYYWWOOOODD!!!”

Scotty raises the hockey stick in the air before heading into the ring followed by Stevens who fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.

“That’s who we are

We do our talking, walk that walk

Wide open rocking

That’s how we roll”

POWERS: ”And his partner, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas. Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds… Thisiii is… SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”

Scotty reaches the ring and climbs the steel steps to enter the ring as Stevens rolls into the ring.

“Our backs to the wall

A band of brothers

Together, alone, the outsiders

We’re the riders, we’re the ones burning rubber off our tires.

Yeah, we’re the fighters, the all-nighters

So fire ’em up and get a lil higher”

The two Scotts fist bump each other once again before Scottywood quickly scales the turnbuckle and raises the hockey stick in the air as he soaks in the boos and just smiles as Stevens ascends the other turnbuckle and stares out into the crowd as he soaks in the hatred as well.

“Woah-oh-oh

Woah-oh-oh

Woah-oh-oh

Woah-oh-oh”

Scottywood descending the turnbuckles and leans his back up against them while an icy glare and the throat slash gesture come from Stevens as they prepare for the start of their match.

JOHNSON: ”Well, that was certainly a long entrance.”

VASSA: ”Yeah, not sure if we’ll have enough time for the rest of this match now.”

The opening notes of “Young Men Dead” by the Black Angels begins to play out over the arena. A simulated sundown on the video board plays as the lights of the arena begin to slowly fade to black, all that remains is the sound of guitar is heard. As the song kicks into gear out from the back steps through the curtain Brody Lee Prince first, followed by Magnus Brutus with his girlfriend Phoebe and they are all followed by none other than Christopher Wrigley. Wasting little time, Brody Lee and Magnus begin to make their way towards the ring while Phoebe stands behind her man and Wrigley holds his briefcase tightly making sure that none of the fans come close to him.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring at a combined weight of five hundred and twenty one pounds and lead to the ring by their manager Phoebe and their attorney Christopher Wrigley. Brody Lee Prince and Magnus Brutus, they are THE HOSTILE TTAAKKEEOOVVEERR!!!”

Brody Lee hits the ring first as Magnus stops to get a last minute smooch from the darling redheaded Phoebe. Brody Lee stands on the middle ropes and tosses his chaw to the floor as Magnus climbs up onto the ring apron and sneers in everyone’s direction. Wrigley has a huge grin on his face as he points directly into a camera and says ‘It’s time for a takeover’ a couple of times. He then tells the camera to get out of his face before he sues him.

JOHNSON: ”Here are the runners up, a very good showing in the tournament.”

VASSA: ”That briefcase shot cost them, maybe tonight they can redeem themselves and pick up a win.”

DING!!! DING!!!

With the ring of the bell the match begins in a frenzy, as the three teams quickly converge on one another. Brutus immediately drives Bryan into the corner, while Marquis fights with Scottywood. Stevens and Brody start to brawl, while Brutus tries to toss Bryan over the top rope. Bryan fights back, knocking Magnus backwards as he soon eats a Clothesline from Scott Stevens. Persephone gets knocked backwards by an elbow from Scottywood, as Magnus and Brody quickly grabs her and tosses her over the top rope! Persephone falls to the outside, while Brody attacks Stevens with a brutal Clothesline of his own!

Brutus cracks his neck, and takes a charge at Bryan. He takes Bryan down with a Corner Splash, causing Williams to fall to the mat and roll to the outside! With one team on the outside, Hostile Takeover turns their attention towards The Outsiders. Both Woodson and Stevens are up, as they connect with stereo uppercuts on Magnus and Brody! Scott Stevens charges at Brody, who ducks and sends Stevens tumbling to the outside. Woodson connects with a Swinging Neckbreaker on Magnus, sending him rolling to the outside as well. Brody and Scottywood quickly square off in the ring. Woodson eats a few forearms from Brody, but quickly stops that with a Big Boot to his face!

JOHNSON: ”It’s already chaos here in the ring, three teams battling it out for superiority!”

VASSA: ”Seems to be back and forth here.”

The action doesn’t stop on the outside, as Bryan and Persephone gang up on Magnus and Stevens. Eventually Brody connects with a back elbow that staggers Woodson, he quickly follows that up with a dropkick that sends Scottywood to the outside! With Brody Lee Prince left in the ring, he looks to the outside and quickly gathers up what he should do. The crowd anticipates a dive to the outside, but they begin to boo when he chooses otherwise. He climbs through the ropes, leaping off of the apron with a double axe handle! Christopher Wrigley keeps his distance, but cheers his team on as Brody takes out a few opponents at ringside.

Brutus doesn’t want to waste any time spent on the outside, so he grabs Bryan and tosses him back into the ring. Bryan quickly shoots across the ring, just as Persephone is entering the ring. Brutus tries to get up to his feet quickly, but eats a running kick from Bryan! Brutus stumbles forwards, allowing Marquis to quickly climb up the turnbuckle and drop Magnus to the mat with a leaping Bulldog from behind! Brutus crashes into the mat face first, as Marquis quickly goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Brutus is able to kick out, shoving Marquis off of him as he gets back to his feet. Stevens and Woodson have re-entered the ring, grabbing Marquis and tossing her to the outside. Bryan clobbers Magnus with an elbow, but not before getting caught in a Sidewalk Slam/Reverse DDT combo by The Outsiders! Brody enters the ring, knocking Stevens out as he turns his attention towards Woodson. The two begin to brawl inside of the ring, Brody almost getting the better of Woodson for a moment. Brody goes to lift him up for a Suplex, but Woodson floats behind him and dumps him to the mat with a Spinebuster!

JOHNSON: ”Good counter from Scottywood!”

VASSA: ”Don’t take your eye off of the other competitors though!”

Marquis gets back into the ring, climbing up to the top turnbuckle. Woodson turns around and eats a Top Rope Dropkick! Magnus quickly enters the ring again, taking down Marquis with a Headbutt. Bryan is back up to his feet, grabbing Magnus’ right arm. With a spinning wristlock secured, Bryan drives Magnus to the nearest corner, propping him up onto the top turnbuckle. With Brutus seated, Bryan yanks and torques that right arm of Brutus’. Magnus tries to fight back, a few punches to Bryan’s head almost breaks the hold, but Bryan drags him to the mat with a top rope arm drag! Bryan looks happy with himself, but is immediately knocked back out of the ring by Stevens and Woodson!

JOHNSON: ”Bryan with a nice move there, but the numbers game just too much of a factor here tonight.”

VASSA: ”The Outsiders seem to be regrouping better, this may be theirs for the taking.”

Smiling, the two walk over to Magnus, and pick him up. Brody is back up to his feet though, he shoots in and takes Woodson down! Magnus fights with Stevens, who grabs his opponent and picks him up. Stevens lifts Magnus up, dumping him throat first onto the top rope! Stevens doesn’t get a chance to rest, as Brody clobbers him with a Forearm to his back. On the outside we can see Bryan and Marquis waiting, they watch as these two go at it. Brody tries to lift up Stevens for a Powerslam, but Stevens is able to slip right through. Woodson gets up, the two turn Brody around and hit him with the Toxic SDT! Stevens goes for the pin, as Woodson grabs Magnus and takes him to the outside.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Brody is able to kickout, as Bryan and Persephone get back into the action. Bryan connects with a Superkick to Stevens, knocking him back out of the ring! With Brody left in the ring, the two members quickly circle him. Woodson quickly slides into the ring, but Persephone ducks a Clothesline attempt from him. She connects with a Backstabber, taking him out for the moment. Brody lands a clean shot on Bryan, stunning him for a moment. Persephone quickly jumps on his back, but Brody is able to flip her off of him. Marquis lands on the canvas, allowing Bryan to connect with a Superkick to Brody! With Brody stunned, Marquis gets up to her feet and connects with a Running European Uppercut! The move sends Brody directly into Bryan, who takes him down with a Tiger Suplex!

Magnus rolls back into the ring, and charges towards the two. Marquis sees this, and shoves Bryan out of the way. She takes all of the clothesline, being dumped to the mat as Stevens and Woodson make their way back in. Bryan, now in the corner, ducks a charge between Stevens and Woodson. Magnus is able to grab Bryan, and toss him back to the outside of the ring. The Outsiders have the clear advantage, but Magnus levels Woodson with a hard Lariat! It’s Stevens and Magnus squaring off again, the two lock up in the middle of the ring. Both men look for the advantage, but neither can seem to get the better of the other. Stevens rips into Magnus with a Forearm, but Magnus fires back with another of his own!

JOHNSON: ”Look at these two go at it!”

VASSA: ”Who can last at this pace though?!”

Stevens smiles, as Magnus reaches back for another shot. Stevens throws out a kick towards Magnus, who moves out of the way. They both turn around, and Stevens catches Brody with a Belly to Belly Suplex. Marquis and Bryan quickly regroup, knocking down Brody and Woodson as they get back into the ring. Stevens catches a Running Knee from Bryan, and falls to the mat! Magnus tries getting back up to his feet, but Persephone grabs him in a Running Bulldog. She charges towards the middle of the ring, where Bryan meets her as he connects with a Bicycle Knee to the face of Magnus! It’s a brutal shot, as Marquis quickly pins him!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Brody breaks up the pin and quickly begins kicking Marquis, as Bryan steps in to stop him. The two quickly overwhelm Brody, but Stevens and Woodson make their way back into the match. The Outsiders charge into the battle, but Marquis and Williams both duck and send them crashing into Brody. The two teams meet in the middle of the ring, and quickly begin to brawl it out. Woodson tosses Marquis into the corner, but she reverses it into the Petty Cash! Stevens and Williams fight it out, as Williams ducks a clothesline attempt from Stevens. He lifts him high into the air and connects with the CTE!

JOHNSON: ”CTE CONNECTS!”

VASSA: ”Holy shit, the Sadboiz might just win this!”

With the ring cleared, Bryan and Persephone quickly mock their opponents. They throw up what seem to be gang signs, as they take a moment to celebrate. On the outside it seems that Hostile Takeover is regrouping, Wrigley has spoken with them and given them something. Magnus slides in by himself, as Williams and Marquis descend on him. They don’t seem to notice Brody sneaking into the ring behind them. Bryan turns around, and eats a SHOT FROM THE BRIEFCASE!

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

Persephone doesn’t have time to react, as Brody slams the briefcase into her back!

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

With Bryan and Persephone down, Hostile Takeover looks towards the downed Outsiders in the ring. Woodson begins to stir, he barely gets up to a knee before Brody clobbers him with the briefcase! With Woodson down, and out of the way, Brody and Magnus turn their attention towards Stevens. They both pick him up, as Magnus puts him into a Russian Leg Sweep position. Brody charges to the ropes, connecting with a Lariat as the two complete The Takeover!

SSSLLLAAAMMM!!!

Magnus quickly covers Stevens, as Brody watches out to make sure nobody breaks up the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here are your winners, THE HOSTILE TTAAKKEEOOVVEERR!!!”

Magnus and Brody don’t seem to waste any time celebrating in the ring, they grab their briefcase and quickly leave as Wrigley is waiting for them with a grin stretched across his face from ear to ear. Magnus stares ahead at Wrigley with a look of anger and frustration in his eyes before shaking his head. The crowd boos, a sudden turn of events leading to their victory here tonight. Bryan and Persephone stir in the ring, clearly upset and annoyed by the outcome here tonight.

JOHNSON: ”Wow, talk about being in the right place at the right time! Brody just redeemed himself with Magnus Brutus here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Yes he did, great timing on his part. Bryan and Persephone looked to have this match locked away, but that briefcase came into play and changed everything.”

JOHNSON: ”You have to wonder now how Bryan and Persephone will be feeling about this, two matches now where they have yet to meet expectations.”

VASSA: ”That’s just the way this goes, got to want it more I guess!”

The scene cuts backstage where we find Perry Wallace and Jimmy Walker sitting across from each other in the makeshift office Perry has inhabited for the evening.

WALLACE: ”Now, I know we have some BIG plans for title matches heading into Fright Night. But I think we need to sit down and start taking this WarGames match a little more seriously.”

WALKER: ”What gives off the impression that we haven’t?”

WALLACE: ”Oh nothing, just saying. Jeb fired some shots Friday night at Octane when he laid out Williams and gave him his one hundredth concussion. Then he said loud and clear… fuck Adrenaline.”

WALKER: ”Heh, that did make me laugh. I have to be honest with you.”

WALLACE: ”I loved it! This is exactly what we need to fuel this fire. The people on Octane are getting dragged non-stop by people on Adrenaline. It’s time for these two to collide and settle their differences inside of that cage.”

WALKER: ”So what exactly are you thinking?”

Holding his hand up, Perry extends four fingers with his thumb folded over his palm.

WALLACE: ”Teams of four.”

WALKER: ”Four on four?”

WALLACE: ”Exactly! And with what we’ve seen over the weeks with Bad Company, Octane last week, and tonight… I have a pretty good idea of some players to step into the game.”

WALKER: ”I’m listening…”

As the two continue their conversation, Perry’s phone then rings. Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulls out his cell phone and laughs when he looks at the screen. Pressing his finger against the screen, he then pulls the phone to his ear.

WALLACE: ”Riddick fucking Bowe! That’s what’s up!”

From across the room, a familiar face appears as Eli Carlson pops his head in the door.

CARLSON: ”Faggot!”

Pulling his phone away from his ear, Perry quickly covers it with his other hand as his eyes shoot across the room.

WALLACE: ”What the fuck, Eli! What are you even doing here? Better watch it before the man on the other end of this call puts you back into retirement.”

CARLSON: ”Fucking cuck.”

Eli then disappears as Wallace shakes his head. He then pulls the phone back to his ear as the scene begins to fade.

UNDERCARD
TRIPLE THREAT
ANASTASIA HAYDEN VS.
CARMELLA WILDER VS. AMBER RYAN

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

“Word up, son, word, yeah

To all the killers and a hundred dollar billers

For real, niggas who ain’t got no feelings

Check it out now”

The lighting in the building darkens a bit before the opening of “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep starts playing and the crowd begins to boo. As soon as the intro of the song finishes, Anastasia Hayden steps out from the curtains, holding her 4CW Fate Championship by its strap. The negative reception doesn’t bother her as she stands at the top of the entrance, surveying the ring and the crowd before she starts to make her way down to the ring.

”I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous

You heard of us, official Queensbridge murderers

The Mobb comes equipped for warfare, beware

Of my crime family who got ‘nough shots to share”

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring, hailing from Steele, North Dakota…weighing in at one hundred twenty-eight pounds…she is the ‘GRAND DUCHESS’…and the current Fate Champion… ANASTASIA HHAAYYDDEENN!!!”

”Rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone

You all alone in these streets, cousin

Every man for they self in this land we be gunnin’

And keep them shook crews runnin’, like they supposed to

They come around, but they never come close to”

The announcement of her name only draws more hatred from the crowd as she tosses the 4CW Fate Championship into the ring before leaping up to the apron and climbing through the ropes. Lifting her championship off the canvas, she holds it up high for a few seconds before dragging it over to a free corner in the ring and dropping it back on the mat before she perches herself onto the top turnbuckle.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring next!”

The sounds of Katy Perry’s “Roar” hits as a song generally made to pump people up. Instead leads to some boos as from the back comes Carmella Wilder the mother of Jett Wilder. Wearing some yoga pants, a sports bra, and normal sneakers her workout gear from her spin classes. Now her in ring gear as she walks out, with tons of energy. Smiling as she walks from one side of the ring, waving to the other. Walking down towards the ring now with some pep in her step Luiz a ways behind her coming to ringside.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California accompanied to the ring by Luiz Cavalcante, weighing in at one hundred and fifteen five pounds and standing five feet, four inches tall! She is the 4CW Extreme Champion, CARMELLA WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Turning up the steel steps is where it seems to get real for her, as she starts to slow down. The smile now gone as she steps through the two bottom ropes. Trying to do her best acting job by throwing up both arms in the air to seem confident. But seeming less ready to roar, more ready to meow. As she backs into the corner figuratively and literally.

POWERS: ”And next!”

It’s the tinkling of the eerie music box that brings the lights down, the crowd murmuring with anticipation, as slowly and silently the big screens seems to crack one by one. Shadows lurk curiously, distorted by the cracks as an almost mechanical synth leads into the stutter of heavy guitar.

Red lights pulse in time as the lights flicker erratically casting light and dark chaotically, the mechanical synth returns as a female silhouette almost materializes atop the aisle drawing a mixed reaction from the crowd.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Atlantic City, New Jersey! She is the ‘Distorted Angel’ and the 4CW Pride Champion… AMBER RRYYAANN!!!”

With her back to the ring, the reflection of the 4CW Pride Championship reflects the erratic lights as it drapes over the back of her shoulder. Walking backwards, she finally turns around halfway down the ramp with the title slung over the back of her shoulder, holding the edge of the strap as she deliberately takes her time.

“Baby go ahead

I’ll be your hatred and your pain

This is killing us all

I don’t care if I fall

We’re the dying, we are the damned”

A few fans extend hands trying to get a touch of the belt as it bounces against her back. Circling the ring, messing with whichever ring crew and staff that happen to be within vicinity, she slips the belt off her shoulder and slides it haphazardly beneath the rope before methodically and deliberately sliding beneath the bottom rope after it.

“I know I don’t belong in this scene

Sex metal barbie, homicidal queen.”

Scooping the title up along her path, allowing it to drape back over the back of her shoulder she climbs the turnbuckle left handed before turning and giving the crowd her back and a cheeky smirk over her opposite shoulder. Taking a seat upon the top turnbuckle, she pulls the title belt back to the front of her shoulder allowing her elbows to rest on her knees. That familiar Distorted Angel smirk ever present across her features.

JOHNSON: ”Coming up next ladies and gentlemen we have a champions galore!”

VASSA: ”Three lovely ladies, three champions, one ring. This match is going to be lit!”

JOHNSON: ”What has come over you tonight Vinny? Why are you talking like that.”

VASSA: ”Talking like what? I’m just saying, we have three champions all within that ring. Out of all four singles championships on Adrenaline, three of them are held by beauty and grace.”

JOHNSON: ”Beauty and grace?”

VASSA: ”Exactly! Well… Carmella might now be so graceful. She isn’t the best when it comes to wrestling or having the most experience, but she did successfully retain her Extreme Championship two weeks ago at Bad Company.”

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t an extreme or no holds barred match and there won’t be anyone out here to help her. No Luiz. No Perry. Nobody.”

VASSA: ”With both Amber and Ana in this match as well, I highly doubt that either of those guys would factor in much with what these ladies bring to the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”They all have their own unique qualities that they bring to this matchup. Not to mention sitting respectfully at the top of their divisions.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know if you can call beating someone with a ‘light saber’ respectful. Perry may be into that stuff but that isn’t wrestling!”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell sounds, Ana and Amber both bounce away from their corners full of energy. Standing back, Carmella watches them both, cutting her eyes back and forth and showing some intimidation now that things are officially underway. Locking up in the center of the ring, Amber and Ana grab ahold of one another. Pulling Ana down to her side by the head, Amber applies a side headlock and locks her hands together, cranking down on the pressure. Pushing her away and stepping forward, Ana pulls her head away from her arm before sending her running to the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Amber goes for a clothesline but swings and misses as she continues to the ropes. Leaning back up, Ana then takes a step back before turning her body and kicking her foot high into the air. Coming at her from the ropes again, Amber runs right into a superkick to the face and drops straight to her back.

With Amber down, Ana quickly turns her attention across the ring where Carmella is still in her corner, watching from a distance. With a smirk on her face, Ana begins to head straight for her, taking slow steps as Carmella begins growing worried the closer she gets. Holding both hands up, Carmella begins to plead with her, buying herself time. Laughing in Carmella’s face, Ana then draws back for a punch but before she can swing forward, Amber is right there behind her, grabbing her by the arm and whipping her around. After an elbow to Ana’s face, Amber then plants her knee into her stomach. Pulling Ana in, Amber then hooks her arm underneath hers before taking her down to the mat with an arm drag. With Ana on her back, Amber then leaps straight into the air and comes down with both feet aimed for Ana’s chest. Rolling out of the way, Ana dodges the double foot stomp before spinning her body and sweeping Amber’s legs out from under her.

With both Ana and Amber down on the mat, Carmella then decides to strike. As Ana pushes herself up to one knee, Carmella timidly sneaks in behind her and hits her across the back with a double axe-handle. Whipping her head around, Ana locks her eyes on Amber as Carmella’s light up like a deer in the headlights. Standing up, she approaches Carmella as the Extreme Champion attempts to talk herself out of it while backing into the corner. Kicking her foot up, Ana hits her in the stomach with a swift kick before following up with a forearm shot to the head. From behind, Amber wraps Ana up around the waist with both arms before lifting her off her feet and going for a German suplex. Reaching her highest point, Ana pulls Amber’s hands apart as she slips out of her hold and rolls backward. Landing to her feet on the canvas, Ana escapes the suplex as Amber crashes hard to the canvas.

Rolling over and pushing herself up, Amber races back to her feet but before she knows it, Ana greets her with a kick to the jaw as she gets to her knees. The kick whips Amber’s head to the side, leaving her body exposed as Ana kicks her other foot up and plants it into her shoulder. Alternating feet, Ana then kicks her in the opposite shoulder, but still not completely down to the mat. Taking a few steps back and creating a bit of distance, Ana then charges in and levels Amber with an enguigiri. Rising to her feet, Ana catches a glimpse of Carmella in the corner of her eye as she rushes in. Turning her attention to Carmella, Ana catches her by surprise as she lifts her off her feet and spins her before bringing her across her knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. With Carmella being as fragile as she is, Ana covers her for the pin as the official drops in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”Thr–“

JOHNSON: ”NO!!! Amber breaks up the pin with a kick to the back of Ana’s head!”

VASSA: ”Ana had Carmella down for the count but Amber just wasn’t having it.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s the thing about triple threats. There’s always someone breaking things up when you least expect it. I’m surprised that Ana was able to put Carmella down for so long with just a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.”

VASSA: ”To be honest, I’m not. We both know Carmella is the furthest thing from a wrestler.”

Continuing her assault, Amber rains down on Ana with rapid kicks to the head. She then pulls Ana up from the mat before slapping her across the chest with an open palm. Locking onto her arm, Amber then goes to throw Ana to the ropes but before she can release, Ana reverses and sends Amber racing towards them instead. With Amber bouncing off the ropes and coming back on the return, Ana takes off for her, meeting her in the center of the ring with a running European uppercut. The shot to the head spins Amber around to face the opposite direction. Stepping in behind Amber, Ana hooks her arms underneath hers before lifting her off her feet and dropping her on her head with a dragon suplex. Bridging the suplex, Ana holds Amber in place with her shoulders down to the canvas. Dropping in beside them, the official begins his count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Kicking out just before the two, Amber frees herself up. Back on her feet, Ana kicks her in the ribs with a stinging right kick. She then grabs ahold of her, pulling her to her feet. Holding her in place, Ana hits Amber with multiple knees to the body. She then ducks down and wraps Amber up, lifting her up and over, before dropping her flat on her back with a bridging Northern Lights suplex. Sliding in beside them, the official begins his count again.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Flying through the air, Carmella breaks up the pin as she lands on top of Ana with no move whatsoever, just enough force from her body to roll Ana off. With Amber still down, Carmella then quickly covers as the official is still down beside them to make the count.

ON–

Pushing Carmella off of her, Amber frees herself. All three ladies then begin climbing to their feet. Standing in the middle of both Amber and Ana, Carmella begins looking back and forth rapidly, unsure of exactly what to do. Looking to one another, Ana and Amber then nod before turning their attention to Carmella. Throwing a left, Amber hits Carmella in the jaw and knocks her back a step into a kick from Ana that lands across her back, knocking her forward a step. Spinning around, Amber closes her fist and hits Carmella square in the face with a spinning backfist. Jumping high into the air, Ana then kicks her feet forward, planting them between Carmella’s shoulders with a high angled dropkick. Carmella then falls forward right into Amber’s arms. Pulling her head down, Amber drops down to one knee and slams Carmella’s face down onto her elevated knee with a facebreaker. As Carmella flies backwards, Ana sweeps by her and catches Amber off guard with an eye rake. Lifting her off her feet, Ana then takes a step forward before dropping her across her knee with a side slam backbreaker.

VASSA: ”You have to keep an eye on Ana at all times. She’ll come for your throat when you least expect it!”

JOHNSON: ”Just when we thought her and Amber were working together to eliminate Carmella from the equation, Ana moves in on Amber for the kill.”

VASSA: ”It is a triple threat after all. There are no teams. Hell, there aren’t any alliances whatsoever going into this thing. Each of these ladies are looking for the win here tonight at all costs.”

Still on her feet, Carmella stumbles into Ana as she rises to hers. Turning around in an instant, Ana catches her with a spinning elbow to the face. Locking onto Carmella’s wrist, Ana then whips her to the far corner across the ring. Just as Carmella crashes into the corner, Ana takes off behind her and as she closes in, she goes for Carmella’s head with a Yakuza kick. Ducking out of the way, Carmella dodges the kick as Ana crashes into the corner. Closing her eyes, Carmella then begins swinging wildly, hitting Ana with lefts and rights with no distinct pattern. Somehow, Carmella manages to turn her position and before you know it, she connects with an unexpected right to the official by mistake, knocking him to the mat.

With the official down, Amber takes a moment to reach into her pocket before putting something into her mouth. From behind, Amber grabs Carmella by the shoulder and spins her around. At that moment, Carmella’s eyes open as she screams. Amber then spits a mouthful of tacks into Carmella’s face!

VASSA: ”OH NO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Carmella has now met the same fate as Perry last year!”

VASSA: ”That’s just dirty! Where’s the official when you need him?!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s down thanks to Carmella.”

VASSA: ”At least this will give Carmella and Perry something to connect over besides those tig ole’ bitties!”

Amber then draws back and takes a huge swing for Carmella’s head, throwing her weight behind it. With both hands over her face, Carmella drops to the mat as Amber lunges forward. Ducking down, Ana then plants her shoulder into Amber’s stomach as she falls forward and then stands straight up. Lifting Amber off her feet, Ana sends her over the top rope to the apron. Reaching back and over her head, Ana locks onto Ambers head before dropping down to a seated position. She pulls Amber’s head down with her, slamming her throat across the top rope. Bouncing off the top rope, Amber flies off the apron and crashes to the floor.

Crawling across the ring, Carmella blindly gets herself away from harm. Pushing herself to her feet, She pulls her other hand away from her face as the camera zooms in the reveal her red skin with small scratches on the surface from the tacks to the face. Running right by her, Ana hits the ropes in front of her and as she comes back on the return, she levels Carmella with a running single leg dropkick!

JOHNSON: ”She Was Only Seventeen!”

VASSA: ”SEVENTEEN!!! Daddy says she’s too young, but she’s old enough for me!”

JOHNSON: ”What the–“

Crawling over Carmella and making the cover, Ana hooks the leg nonchalantly as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… ANASTASIA HHAAYYDDEENN!!!”

“Shook Ones (Part II)” hits the speakers as Ana confidently rises to her feet with a smirk stretched across her face. The official steps in beside her and raises her arm into the air. Meanwhile, Ana looks to the outside and locks eyes with Amber who looks on from the floor in disappointment. Laughing, Ana then pulls her arm away from the official before walking to the ropes and dipping through them to drop to the opposite side of the ring. Grabbing her belt from a member of the ringside crew, she then heads up the ramp, turning her back to the ring and Amber as the strap of the belt drags along the floor.

We cut back to see Johnny Evil heading out of the arena with his bag over his shoulder. Walking out the door a swarm of fans rush the guardrails and beg for autographs. Despite being a prick, Johnny obliges his hometown fans and shows them some love. Signing a few autographs and taking some selfies Evil is off, tossing his bag into his ride.

JOHNSON: ”Johnny Evil showing the home crowd some love! Gotta love it.”

Just as Evil opens the driver’s door he’s rushed from behind by Dean Judas who clubs him in the back with a vicious forearm shot. Evil drops to a single knee as Judas slams his head against the car door. Evil bounces back and rolls feet over head backwards. Shaking it off Evil gets up and throws his hands up to box with Judas as Dean swings with a combination of straights and hooks. Evil avoids the shots and ducks under wrapping Judas up and driving him into the car.

JOHNSON: ”Johnny Evil has been ambushed by Dean Judas but he’s fighting back!”

VASSA: ”These two had somethin’ brewing we could all tell.”

Evil punches Judas in the jaw with a right hook followed by a left and then the same pattern to the body before hitting a solid uppercut to Judas that rattles his teeth.

EVIL: ”Motherfucker!”

Evil shoves Judas in the throat and goes for a HUGE knockout blow but this time Judas ducks as Evil sends his hand right through the car window shattering it completely on impact. Evil’s hand begins to bleed but he doesn’t stop, Evil turns towards Judas and kicks him in the gut. Grabbing a handful of hair, Evil pulls Judas’ head back and shakes his head in disappointment giving him the tisk tisk look.

EVIL: ”You wanna come and attack me!? You shoulda been more patient about it, fuckin’ moron…NOW LOOK AT YOU!”

Tossing Judas to the side he watches Dean plant face first onto the pavement. Evil checks his hand and shakes it off confirming it’s not too serious he watches as Judas still climbs to his feet. Evil looks on and realizes he’s gonna put Judas down.

JOHNSON: ”What’s Evil thinking here?”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but for some reason I don’t think it’s gonna be pretty.”

Taking his thumb to his mouth, Evil runs his tongue across his thumb and then across the tip of his boot. Sizing up Judas, Evil charges forward looking to kick Dean right in the skull. Johnny kicks, but Judas grabs ahold of his leg and shoves him onto his back. Climbing to his feet, Judas walks over towards Evil with a look of insanity. Judas wipes away the blood and pieces of pavement that are stuck in his scraped up face from hitting the pavement as well as the ruthless punches from Evil.

JOHNSON: ”Just like that, Judas has the upper hand now. These two might not stop until someone’s dead.”

VASSA: ”This is 4CW at its finest.”

Both men are up and the intensity as at an all-time high. Judas grinds his teeth and charges at Evil, being savvy, Evil jumps up and drills Judas with a knee and takes him down with a full mount. Evil rains down punches as Judas attempts to cover up and soften the blows. Judas rolls out and takes control as he hammers Johnny’s liver with hammer fists. Just as Judas begins to hammer Evil’s face, a ton of security pour from the arena door. Breaking up the fight, the security team separates both superstars trying to contain the madness.

JOHNSON: ”Finally, we got some help out there. Both men we’re legit going to kill each other.”

VASSA: ”BET!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s enough outta you.”

Judas breaks the hold of the guards and lunges onto the guards holding Evil. Hitting Evil with this flying superman punch, Judas tries to continue the onslaught but quickly the guards break it back up again. Evil isn’t about to be one upped so he breaks free and charges Judas spearing him into the guardrail knocking over some fans and security. Pure chaos.

JOHNSON: ”MY GOD! Somebody get a handle on this! Look at the people getting hurt, we’re about to have a ton of lawsuits.”

VASSA: ”BET!”

JOHNSON: ”JESUS CHRIST MAN! Enough!”

Evil stands above Judas and delivers kick after kick to the ribs of Judas as he stands over him yelling down at The Antivist.

EVIL: ”Fuck you, punk fuckin’ bitch.”

Word after word, Evil follows up each word with an even heavier kick. He’s swept under the arms by four security staff members as he’s whisked away from the scene. The security staff finally seem to have it all under control as Evil is completely removed from the outside area and taken inside.

JOHNSON: ”At least we got some order now and don’t have to worry about any lawsuits hopefully we can get those fans some t-shirts and all will be good. Maybe they give the kid with the bone sticking out a couple of tickets to next week’s Adrenaline.”

VASSA: ”BET!”

JOHNSON: ”Ugh…”

Judas gets up to his feet as medical begins to check up on him. He shoves them off and wipes away the blood that had been flowing from his forehead into his eyes. Judas squints as he breaths heavily and appears to be getting enraged. With all his might Judas 300 kicks Evil’s car, denting it up in frustration Judas walks off as we cut.

The camera quickly cuts to the entrance ramp where an enraged Butcher is dragging a pleading and abused Lincoln Cutler by his hair. Cutler’s hair was tangled within Dakota’s fist as the butcher dragged him down the ramp, stopping every now and again to stiff kick the defenseless old man in the side of the head and roar at him to shut the fuck up. Spit was flying out of the butcher’s lips as if he was a rabid animal as he violently berates the old man. When Dakota finally reaches the ring he pulls Cutler up to his feet before throwing the most nonchalant fireball directly into the olds man face. Cutler screams out in pain and agony as the flesh on his face gets scorned by the flames. Dakota wastes no to time to forcibly roll the old man into the ring.

VASSA: ”JESUS CHRIST, DAKOTA!”

JOHNSON: ”Sadly, I don’t think that’s all he’s going to do, and it’s already hard to watch.”

The Butcher slams his fist down onto the ring apron before rolling in himself. Dakota pushes his fist into the mat and pushes himself up, before immediately targeting Cutler once again – this time however targeting the man’s hand. Dakota viciously stomps down on Cutler’s fingers, placing his other foot on the man’s elbow so he couldn’t pull away. Stomp after stomp Dakota slams his boot into Cutlers now mangled looking hand. His fingers where pointing in all different directions and the sounds of agony he was making was unsettling to say the least. Taking his foot off of Lincoln’s Elbow he grabs the injured wrestler by his long balding blond hair and pulls him up to his feet. In a scene that would make your mother cry, you could see tears running down Lincoln’s face as he holds his mangled hand out in front of him. Once again he pleads and begs for Dakota to stop, asking him why he was doing this. But the more Lincoln talked, the worst it was going to get.

JOHNSON: ”He’s going to kill him, I can’t watch… I… the man is literally crying in the ring.”

VASSA: ”This is torture… sick goddamn torture!”

While still holding onto the man’s hair Dakota starts to viciously headbutt the man’s forehead over and over again, until finally Cutler’s head burst open with blood. Some of it splatters onto Dakota’s face, which seemingly excites the man we call the butcher. He lets go of Lincoln’s hair and instead of letting the man’s body drop he grabs ahold of the freshly bust open wound on his forehead and begins to tear at it. Dakota digs his filthy, cracked fingernails deep into the open flesh of Cutler – ripping the wound open to almost triple the size it was originally.

JOHNSON: ”GET SOME DAMN MEDICS OUT HERE!”

Dakota’s hands were covered in Cutler’s blood as he continues to rip and tear at the man’s forehead, his fingernails scraping against bone at this point. Finally after a uncomfortably long time Dakota rips his hands away from the man’s forehead. Cutler was about to drop like dead weight but Dakota catches his by the hand he had mangled earlier, this jolt of pain shocking Cutler back into consciousness just as he goes down on his knees. Dakota squeezes and twists at the already broken hand as Cutler’s screams turn into a choking noise – blood begins to spew from his mouth, obviously having damaged his throat from all the screaming. Even as Lincoln was suffocating on his own blood Dakota never let up on his punishment, pulling at the shattered fingers on the man’s hand as if they where puppet strings.

VASSA: ”That’s it, I’m going to be sick. This perverse… grotesque… display is uncalled for.”

The look on the Butcher’s eyes as he did this was perverse, as if his blood lust had taken over and he was getting some sort of sick pleasure out of the torture of a man who should have long been retired. Dakota then drives his free hand into the blood filled mouth of Lincoln, digging his fingernails on the man’s tongue before ripping his hand away and smearing Cutler’s bodily fluid all over his face. A vile fit of laughter escapes Dakota’s lips as he lets go of the man’s hand and crouches down so that they are face to face. Dakota’s head moved in a primitive, yet curiosity driven manor as he checks for life in the man’s eyes. What little there was, was fading fast. The blood that was once inside of the man was down profusely pouring out of him like a stream in the springtime.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentleman, fans are turning their heads, we have people crying. This is too much. Wait, what…”

Wasting no more time Dakota grabs ahold of Cutler’s face with both of his hands, Then like something out of a horror movie Dakota does the unthinkable and lashes out with his mouth open and teeth ready to dig in, He chomps down onto the mans nose, jerking and pulling his head in different directions as his teeth tear deeper into Cutler’s flesh. After a few seconds of stomach curling brutality there is a pop, blood splattering in all directions as Dakota rips his head away letting the man fall to the ground, his nose being almost completely bitten off. Just mangled bits of flesh left where Cutler’s nose should be.

JOHNSON: ”VASSA!”

After the malicious aftermath is seen, the sound of VASSA getting sick is heard loud and clear. Like a mad animal Dakota marches around the ring, chewing on the human flesh of the now limp Lincoln Cutler. WIth blood dripping down the Butcher’s lips and into his beard Dakota swallows the chunk of human flesh and gets a disturbed, yet satisfied grin on his crimson smeared lips. He then stands over the corpse of his victim – pride seemingly lactating out of Dakota’s flesh as he glares around the arena, which was dead quiet. The fans traumatized by the gorefest that had just taken place inside the 4CW ring. Dakota then looks up over at some of the staffers, he stomps his foot down on the back Cutler’s head as he marches over to the ropes, demanding that they give him a microphone. The staff member almost jumps out of his skin as he hastily hands Dakota what he had asked for. Dakota snatches the microphone from the man’s hand and then circles the almost mutilated body of Lincoln Cutler.

VASSA: ”Ugh, sorry Johnson. Dakota Smith… he is constantly upping himself for how heinous and down right disgusting he can be. There’s just no controlling him. But this, this display, is the single most horrific thing I have ever witnessed.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s a snuff film come to life. I can’t even lie, I feel like I want to lose my dinner.”

The butcher opens his mouth and goes to speak but stops himself, shaking his head a bit before taking a seat right onto of Cutler’s back. With his mouth still open, and holding the microphone in front of his mouth but Dakota doesn’t say a word. Instead he takes his free hand and runs it through his clumped and blood soaked beard. Finally after a few moments of contemplation of his actions Dakota gives a open mouthed smile, showing off his teeth that were now stained with the blood of Cutler.

VASSA: ”OH COME ON! Just let the man get medical attention.”

SMITH: ”I’m going to be honest with you all… I have no idea who this man is, what he does, where he comes from or even if he is a trained athlete in the sport of professional wrestling. What I do know is that I found him in the back and after tonight you won’t be finding him anywhere near another 4CW event. He might actually be dead… I’m not a fucking doctor okay?”

”But the point I was trying to make…” ”Is that i’m frustrated… Upset! You see when I returned after being lit on fire and left for dead I had big plans, I had goals that I was suppose to accomplish, notches I was suppose to add to my belt. But instead each and every endeavor I got down seemingly shits all over my face, really fucks me in the ass to the point where well… I’m done playing by the rules. I’m done biding my fucking time, waiting for the right opportunity to arise. I’m finished with it.” ”When I first came to 4CW I was something of an unknown name, sure I was already more than few years into my career, but nothing ever really clicked. That all changed when I revealed myself to all of you 4CW maggots, I shot fast and I burned bright tearing through the roster like it was a late term abortion. In less than a year I was at the very top, I had beaten the very best and therefore I was crowned the best! It doesn’t matter how I did it, what matters is that I held that 4CW championship longer than any other worthless fuck before me. I kept my name on it no matter what the cost…I etched my legacy with time.” ”Then I lost the very thing that had become the most vital part of me, The heart that for so long I was missing, was taken from me! Leaving me as this husk of bones, blood, and cum. A walking corpse driven by one thing and one thing only, the chance to feel my heartbeat once again. The chance to win back all that had been taken from me.”

Clinching his fist, he draws it to his chest.

”Yet for some reason I fell short, I didn’t meet the mark and the chance I had at becoming whole once again went up in ashes right before my eyes. In three seconds all the hopes of glory and fulfillment that I had preached were shown to be nothing more than the lies of a man who just isn’t what he once was. So I strayed from my path, I turned my back on my own heart… for what? To be made fool once again at Bad Company? To be proven wrong another fucking time by men far underneath my shadow? At Bad Company when I ate that pinfall, when I couldn’t get my shoulder up…The unthinkable happen… I shattered for the second time in three months. I began to rot from the inside out… I could feel it… I can still feel it. Even now as I preach to all of you I can feel my insides devouring themselves – the taste of putrid flesh lingers on my tongue, growing evermore pungent as these days go by.”

Licking his lips, he tilts his head back momentarily before cracking his neck to the side.

”That’s why I pulled myself and Erron out of that match, not because I was scared of some little girl who sees me as some sort of fallen hero complex, Marquis… Did I let you down somewhere along the road? Because from the way you speak about me I can tell that at one point I was your idol, You lash out at me like a daughter to a father who has just let her down more times than none. Well I hate to break your little spoiled bubble… But I was always built to let you down – if you put your faith in me I will see it crumble. All hope dies with Dakota Smith. Whatever I was to you in your twisted little mind Maquis, just know that I didn’t ask to be that. You made me that by obsession. You put me on a pedestal that I had no intention of staying on. I dwell in the muck queef, my home is in the piss and shit! I don’t climb the ladder I tear it down and wait for whoever is on top to come falling down so that they are in my home. My territory.”

With his index finger, he points down to the canvas at his feet.

”In the game of bruises, blood and broken bones I am the gangrene that pusses out of the open wounds infecting everything and everyone I come in contact with. I seep into your bones and degrade them piece by piece cell by cell until they’re hollow, empty just like me. Empty just like me… Empty like the way Bronx left me at ante up, unfulfilled and left to fade away as he moved onto to other endeavours…Bronx tonight you face Manny with my heart on the line and I want you to know that if you lose… You are forgiven, because you’ll be worthless to me. Other people want to face you, go one on one for the challenge, for the sake of good graps… Fuck the graps Bronx the only reason I give any sort of a shit about you is that you currently hold something belongs to me. And if you fail to keep that piece of me then you’ll be forgotten just like anyone else who fails to reach the heights that I did.” Bronx, Manny… I couldn’t really give less of a fuck about who wins or who loses. Just know that when the bell rings and you hold that 4CW championship belt up in the air, as you get filled with pride having just succeeded in what you came here to do! I want you to remember… That the pride you feel should be replaced with fear, because as long as you keep my heart in your possession you will never be safe… Because i’m coming for what is mine. I’m coming for the only thing that this company can offer me! I’ll be coming for you. So good luck out there tonight gentlemen. I hope the match is everything you two want it to be and more. Try to stay as long as you can in that moment, because in the coming months all of it will be dissipating away…The amazing feeling that comes with the 4CW championship will be harvested from you, and replaced with a rot that will eat you alive from the inside out. It will devour you until you’re sitting in the middle of this ring, a possible dead guy underneath your ass…And nothing left to lose. That is if you embrace it like I have. If you try and fight the rot it will only consume you faster and it’ll take all of what makes you, you, with it. My name is Dakota Smith…And I am the reason the winner of our main event will be locking their door and sleeping with a gun underneath their pillows tonight.”

Dakota pushes his fists into the limp flesh of Cutler and makes his way up to his feet as EMT’s rush the ring. Dakota looks back at Cutler and shakes his head. As he passes the medics in the ring he tells them that their too late – even going so far as to stopping one and handing him the microphone, as he had no more use of it. “ Welcome to Hell” by Geno Cultshit starts to blare over the PA system as Dakota exits the ring and jumps over the barricade. At first the crowd tries to stay as far away from The butcher as possible but after a few moments he seemingly vanishes into the sea of faces.

? ? ?: ”FOR TERRY!”

Playstation 4 Controllers in both of their hands, Mariano Fernandez and Jason Cashe were sitting in folding chairs about 3 feet from a flat screen television. A demo of 4CW 2k18 on play as Manny is using himself and Cashe is playing as Bronx. The two are grinding it out with button touches. Cashe hitting a signature submission and Manny goes to work to find an escape and does.

FERNANDEZ: ”I ain’t going down without a fight, chico!”

CASHE: ”See that’s the shit I’m talking about. Bronx isn’t just going to fight. He’s going to manipulate, scheme, this is a man who didn’t survive Galveston, fall flat his first run in 4CW and then come back to become a TOP Name in this business.”

FERNANDEZ: ”I understand that, mang, I do. It just that something PARTICULAR is grinding my gears, mang.”

He takes a deep breath.

FERNANDEZ: “It really AMAZES me, the measure people are underestimating this match. The thing here? They’ve been hounding me for a MONTH. They’ve been telling Bronx how he’ll crush me, how he’ll go right over me and everything goes back to normal. I’m facing the god damned 4CW Champion, people tell him to his FACE how this will be easy for him and to mine how I stand no chance. And he has the gall in him to say I’M the one that has the bar set low, mang. Give me a god damned break.”

Putting the game on pause, Cashe holds the controller in one hand and the other to motion around as he speaks. Like he was doing sign language but dude just used his hands when he talked a lot.

CASHE: ”This is an underdog versus top name, possibly the top draw in this company right now! This story is unfinished up until this point. We don’t know who takes this match. You seem like you are ready but I am positive he will be. He might underestimate you but he will be eyes wide open to see every angle and has thought about losing. No matter how unlikely he also feels it will be. This can go two ways. You do the commonly believed and lose. Or you change the beaten path of what is expected.”

FERNANDEZ: ”… I am ready, mang. All this time, all the pressure, all the god damned doubts otherwise, it all comes down to this moment, mang, it all ends tonight. Ready as I could possibly be. Music’s gonna hit, lights are coming on, and I’m hitting that ring. And once I’m done, let me tell you, Bronx is gonna be humbled tonight.”

Having said that, Manny winks and motions at the screen with his head.

FERNANDEZ: “But first… Let’s finish this match!”

Hitting options to unpause the game, they go back to fighting. Going for Bronx’s finisher “Valescence’s Victory” but Manny reverses it and slams Bronx down into the canvas with almost a spinebuster.

CASHE: ”Oh shit! Nice! That’s what I’m talking about! I’m still gonna win though, watch.”

FERNANDEZ:”Everyone and their god damned dog thinks that.. But I’m changing the god damned landscape!”

CASHE: ”Don’t get me wrong. Not too many people doing what Bronx is or has done. He survived Galveston and lost twice to Chris Callum! That’s like being Job in the Bible if you ask me.. Then he came in as the Chosen Son of Perry Wallace and got left face down, ass up in three strikes against me! Dude had it rough so if I was a betting man?”

On the screen, “Manny” taunts to have Bronx groggily rise to his feet. A setup to execute his own finisher. As he goes to do it, “Bronx” acts quickly and pulls Manny in for a small package. As the two play, their conversation fades as the button play becomes the only thing heard in the room. A close pinfall, “Manny” breaking out as the referee goes to drop that third slap to the canvas.

FERNANDEZ:“GOT IT!”

CASHE: ”Bronx will use anything to his favor. He is a sneaky shit but that is to his advantage. Got to be ready for that… They should add in my shitting next game don’t you think?”

Barely taking his eyes off the screen, Manny gives Cashe a bothered look of complete embarrassment.

FERNANDEZ: “NO. They REALLY shouldn’t, and we don’t need to discuss it anymore either mang!”

CASHE: ”Hahahaha! Come on! It was funny!”

FERNANDEZ: “You wouldn’t BELIEVE the amount of water it took to GET that shit off me, mang! And the HOSES, mang, like DAMN. It was like a god damned firefighter squad hosing me down!”

CASHE: ”Speaking of shitty things..”

Lifting leg towards Manny, Cashe busts ass. A loud ripping fart that comes with weight behind it. Almost jumping from his chair, Manny is quick to get away the blast. Cashe roars in laughter but Manny was not laughing.

FERNANDEZ: “WHAT THE FUCK CASHE!”

The look on his eyes was of sheer terror. Cashe couldn’t answer, he couldn8’t stop laughing. The game had to be paused as the smell began to linger. Even Cashe, the one who dealt it was regretful over it’s release.

FERNANDEZ: “I already get figuratively shit on and I’ve been LITERALLY shat on twice, mang. Ain’t gonna happen AGAIN!”

CASHE: ”That was a deep within! I felt that in my SOUL! Woooo!”

Taking his seat again, Cashe nods at the game before looking back to Manny.

CASHE: ”Want to finish this game? I might need to check my britches but I wanna beat you first. 5 dollars is 5 dollars and you better pay up!”

Manny looks at Cashe, and a wry smile appears on his lips.

FERNANDEZ: “You’re on, mang. I’m a guy who honors his word. I ain’t all fart, no shit – wait…”

He stops mid-sentence, realizing what he’s just said.

FERNANDEZ: “God DAMNIT now you got me thinking about farts and shit too, mang. But NO worries, I ain’t gonna fart. Or shit. Or shart – I dunno, but it AIN’T happening.”

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!!!

The room went silent, with the exception of that noise. Manny’s face goes cherry-red.

FERNANDEZ: “… Or maybe it just did. My bad, chico.”

CASHE: ”Ohh.. OHHHH! That’s a healthy one! Good fucking HELL!”

Swiping at the air to move the smell away, Cashe couldn’t stop laughing. He snorted once or twice as he puts his phone away. Knowing that Manny always gets picked on about nudes and threesomes among other things. The thought of pineapple pizza came to mind but Cashe didn’t want to get him livid before his big match. Maybe the biggest of his career to date, Cashe knew his first 4CW Title match was. This was Manny’s first real opportunity at it. Nobody should be anything but focused heading into that moment. Life was all about the moments and this was one Manny wanted.

CASHE: ”Okay, I’ma match it. Fart Off!”

FERNANDEZ: ”NOOOOOOO!!!!”

HEADLINE
SATIVA NEVAEH VS. JAIR HOPKINS

Adrenaline pans back to ringside for the start of the next match.

JOHNSON:”Oh boy here we go! This next match is going to be off the charts! We’ve got Sativa Neveah taking on Jair Hopkins!”

VASSA: ”This match has all the setup to be the match of the night! This is a tough test for both competitors and I know that a win by either of these competitors could mean future championship implications.”

DING!!! DING!!!

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

The lights go out and bright green static comes up on the video screen. “Get Jinxed” by Djerv starts up as green lasers shoot up and wave around the entrance area.

“Wanna join me, come and play

But I might shoot you, in your face

Bombs and bullets will, do the trick

What we need here, is a little bit of panic!”

As the singing picks up, shapes start to take form in the static on the screen. The silhouette of a petite woman, a cross, a pot leaf, and a skull. They fade in and out, making you wonder if you actually saw them.

“Do you ever wanna catch me?

Right now I’m feeling ignored!

So can you try a little harder?

I’m really getting bored!”

As the first line of the second verse the entrance area lights up and Sativa Nevaeh comes out from the back. She stands at the top of the ramp and looks over the crowd. Despite wearing a mask, you can tell she is smirking. The crowd rains down hate on her for her actions. She starts to make her way towards the ring.

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

“Come on, shoot faster

Just a little bit of energy!

I wanna try something fun right now

I guess some people call it anarchy!”

She makes it to ringside and slides under the bottom rope head first. She crawls over to the nearest turnbuckles and climbs them. She perches atop the ring post, resting one knee upon the top turnbuckle facing inward toward the ring. She throws her head back and takes off the mask, throwing her arms out in a ‘welcome the doves’ pose. The crowd continues their hatred at her and she just smiles.

“Let’s blow this city to ashes

And see what Pow-Pow thinks

It’s such pathetic neatness

But not for long cause it’ll get jinxed!”

Sativa grabs the ropes and jumps down as the word ‘jinxed’ is sung. She then heads to her corner and waits for the match to start.

JOHNSON: ”And there she is! Sativa looking ready to take on the 2 time former 4CW Champion!”

VASSA: ”Sativa might look ready, but this is Jair Hopkins we’re talking about! The guy lives for this type of atmosphere and this is going to be no cakewalk for Sativa.”

”Take it easy”

Arena lights go out as that voice is heard over the PA. The suspenseful start to what sounds like a panicky, off-beat heartbeat is heard before the slow introduction to “Everybody Stay Calm” by RTJ comes into play. Red and white shuffling of the lights flicker, giving that of some sort of dark suspense.

“Excusez-moi bitches

I’m lit from the last of the gas, Mike twisted

No sleep for the vicious, key up a cop car just to see mischief

I’m a nut punch wizard

Speed bag your ball bag, leave none in it

We– we got one ambition

Re-up and puff ’til the month go missing”

Loud blast of a pyro occur leading to the rising of white smoke that fills the entrance area. Soon, a body emerges to and through the smoke as it is Hopkins, his hands up high, holding the 4CW Tag Team championship with a wide grin on his face. He pauses his steps as he slightly grooves to the beat. Glaring down the ramp, he places the title on his shoulder as he trot down the ramp to the ring to which he slides in the ring and immediately takes to climbing the ropes.

“Take it easy partner

Ain’t no chilling in the land of the villains

Ain’t no chilling, ain’t no chilling”

POWERS: ”HAILING from Brooklyn, New York but residing in Los Angeles, California…Standing in at five feet and eleven inches, weighing in at two hundred and eleven pounds…The 4CW Tag Team Champion… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

Holding the title high to the crowd as they cheer for him, he drops down and gives it one last look-over before handing it to the referee. Loosening his muscles, he flexes in the corner as his music dies out.

JOHNSON: ”Nothing uncommon about seeing a 4CW Championship around the waist of Jair Hopkins, even if it is the 4CW Tag Team Championships. Jair looks ready as always for a fight and that’s exactly what we are gonna see tonight!”

VASSA: ”A match like this is one of those matches that you feel like a title is on the line, and that’s how both these guys are going to perform tonight.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The match starts off as Jair and Sativa circle the ring from each other. They take a moment before they lock up in the center of the ring. A test of strength ensues between both as both struggle to get the immediate upperhand. Sativa and Jair wrestle to the ground on one knee before Jair throws a violent uppercut into Sativa, causing her to lose her grip. Jair brings Sativa back to her feet and takes her down with a scoop slam into the mat. Jair tries to lock Sativa in a sleeper hold, but Sativa battles out of it as she gets back to her feet quickly. She tries to go on the offensive, but Jair quickly grabs her and takes her down with a hurricanarona. Jair drops down and goes for the cover on Sativa.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Very good opening sequence there as Jair is only able to get a two count on Sativa.”

VASSA: ”Sativa tried to surprise Jair, but Jair appeared to be ready for it.”

Jair continues to go to work on Sativa as he begins to drop some closed strikes to Sativa on the mat before Irish whipping off the ropes. As he comes back, though, Sativa hops up and nails him with a dropkick, stunning Hopkins. Sativa uses the opportunity to go on the offensive as she nails a knee lift to a standing Jair taking him back down into the mat. She tries to lock in a dragon sleeper on Jair, but this time, it is Jair who stops her from locking in the submission hold. Jair sends some strikes into the midsection as he works his way back to his feet. Jair throws some closed punches into Sativa before Irish whipping her into the ropes. Sativa acts quickly, though, as she comes back and strikes Jair with a Yakuza kick sending Jair on his back onto the canvas. Sativa goes for the cover on Jair.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Man this match has turned into a unique display of both offense and defense at the same time, respectively! You don’t see that often in matches anymore!”

VASSA: ”Well yea! Look who’s fucking in the ring right now! You’ve got a former 2 time 4CW Extreme and former Tag Team Champion taking on a former 2 time 4CW Champion and current Tag Team Champion! Neither one of these two want to give the other the offensive advantage!”

Sativa starts to unload, finally, on Jair on the mat before grabbing him and sending him into the corner turnbuckle. Sativa charges at Jair, but Jair blocks her with a right boot to the face. Jair sends sativa on the outside of the apron before Irish whipping off the ropes and taking her to the outside with a suicide dive. The two spill out onto the outside as both are feeling the effects of the dive. The referee has no choice but to start counting.

“One! … Two!”

Jair is back to his feet as he begins to strike away at Sativa. He grabs Sativa and throws her straight into the barricade as her back clashes with the barricade.

“Three! … Four! … Five!”

Sativa struggles to get back to her feet but does and Jair is ready as he strikes her with a flying forearm smash. Jair rolls back into the ring slowly as he gathers himself leaving Sativa out on the outside.

“Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

JOHNSON: ”Sativa is in trouble! The referee is at a count of eight and she’s in danger of being counted out here!”

VASSA: ”This could be it for Sativa!”

“Nine!”

Before the referee can get to ten, though, Sativa is able to muster the strength to quickly roll back into the ring. Jair can’t believe it as he doesn’t give Sativa the chance to regain her composure. He begins to stomp away at her before heading up to the top rope. Sativa starts to stir as he urges her to get back to her feet. She finally does and turns around right as Jair hops off but she surprises him and hits a diamond cutter on Jair out of nowhere, stunning Jair as she falls back to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”GOT EM! SATIVA WITH GOT EM OUT OF NOWHERE! Can she muster enough strength to cover Jair, though?!”

VASSA: ”That took a lot out of Sativa to hit that move, but she needs to cover Jair now if she wants to win this match, man!”

Sativa take a few moments to breathe but crawls over and makes the cover on Jair as the referee begins the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”And Jair kicks out!! AMAZING!”

VASSA: ”Well, Sativa did have a few moments left untapped before she covered Jair, but that was still a devastating move and I thought that Jair was going to not be able to kick out of that.”

Sativa can’t believe it as she slowly gets to her feet. She brings Jair back to his feet and sends him into the corner turnbuckle. Sativa charges at Jair and this time is able to land a clothesline as she sends Jair into the mat. Sativa heads to the top rope before targeting the stirring Jair. Sativa dives off but Jair is able to move out of the way as Sativa comes crashing down into the mat hard.

JOHNSON: ”Nobody home as Sativa comes crashing down into the canvas! Jair has some time to regroup himself now!”

VASSA: ”Both these guys can’t seem to pull off a top rope maneuver and it’s costing both of them, but they are desperate to pull off big moves against the other because they know that’s what they have to do to put each other away!”

Jair is able to get back up to his feet as he lifts Sativa up and takes her down to the mat with a front face slam. Sativa gets back to her feet as Jair grabs her before she can compose herself and delivers some Bread n Butter taking Sativa hard down into the mat. Jair rolls her over and goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”WHAT?! Sativa with the big kickout! Jair can’t seem to put Sativa away here!”

VASSA: ”How did Sativa kick out of that?! I thought Jair had her there! Incredible!”

Jair can’t believe it as he shakes his head at the defiant Sativa. Neither one of these competitors can put away the other and as Jair grabs Sativa, she jabs him straight in the forehead as he stumbles back. Sativa is able to get back to her feet and as Jair is unbalanced, attempts the Got Em finisher, but Jair slams her down to the mat. Jair quickly springboards off the ropes and delivers the OMFG almost out of nowhere to an unprepared Sativa as Jair falls to a knee to catch his breath before covering Sativa.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Wow, what a great match that was! This was what I like to call a champions classic right there! Tough loss for Sativa, but a very good showing none the less.”

VASSA: ”Hopkins pulls off another impressive, hard earned victory but nothing can be taken away from Sativa as she proves she can wrestle anyone in this business! What an epic match that was!”

It had been a weird night for Bronx Valescence. Wherever he was in the arena now, it was quiet and the music in the background could be heard but it was muffled. The champion had the 4CW Championship around his waist and a long trench coat over his shoulders as he paced back and forth. For the first time in a long time, Bronx looked shaken. Of course when the lights came on and the spotlight came down on him, he would have that same smile, he wouldn’t let them see him sweat.

There seemed to be a heavy cloud over his shoulder. Bronx paced back and forth and then paused.

VALESCENCE: “You know… every time before a match like this. I think about what I want to say because it could be my last words as champion. Maybe forever. Maybe for a month. Maybe for a week. Who knows? I always try to find the words to say. Ordinarily I would love to sit here and say that I would be happy to pass the torch to someone. I would love to be sitting here going into the ring knowing I would be happy I fulfilled my duty as a 4CW Champion, but tonight? That just isn’t the case.”

Bronx brought his gloved hands to his chin and rubbed it for a second.

VALESCENCE: “Let me be perfectly clear with you Manny. Let me be perfectly clear with everyone watching. I don’t care if Manny comes out here and beats me in 30 seconds or 30 minutes. Someone like him? Will never have my respect. I’m not just protecting this championship tonight. I’m not just protecting myself. I am protecting the business of professional wrestling to not have a cartoon character as a major champion. I am protecting the prestigiousness of the 4CW Championship. I am the gatekeeper over professional wrestling tonight… “

Nodding, Bronx looked down at the championship and patted it with his gloved hand a few times.

VALESCENCE: “There will be no handshakes. There will be no hugs. I HATE you Manny Fernandez. I hate everything you stand for. I hate that you take something I hold so dear and you treat it as a JOKE. You can pull the wool over the eyes of the people. You can throw out a few curse words and then act like you’re edgy and badass all of a sudden. But you’ll never pull one over on me. I know what you are. You’re a pussy. You’re a coward, and you’ll always be that little nerd in his basement playing video games, you’ll always be second class. Let the fucking losers rally around you. Let the cucks root for you, because you’ll NEVER be on my level. Win, lose or draw, bitch.”

For a moment, Bronx paused. Almost like he felt a presence near him, the champion looked over his shoulder as if to look at someone who may have been hovering in the shadows. He then shook his head and walked away.

Back to the ring we go right before the main event, where at first the tron lights up. Appearing on screen is a familiar door from earlier in the night. After a few moments it opens and walking out with the biggest smile ever is Jett Wilder. His hair is a mess now, as he starts to walk out from that room. Through the backstage area where a few members of the backstage crew, give him a glance and a show of respect. Giving them a simple nod, to show the deed is done. Moments later “Blessings” by Big Sean hits in the arena, as the crowd is unsure how to react at first as Jett Wilder walks out from the back.

JOHNSON: ”What a moment for this young man Vassa. A moment all young boys, look forward to. He has finally achieved here tonight.”

VASSA: ”I remember my first one like it was yesterday. She was a real nasty one…”

JOHNSON: ”Calm down Vassa let’s just enjoy this moment. We all have been waiting a long time for this.”

Ignoring his usual theatrics that come with his entrance, Jett instead walks to the ring. A pep in his step, either having already taken a nap or to caught up in the moment to. Walking up the steps, he enters the ring looking out at the crowd. Giving another simple nod of approval, not even picking up a mic no words needed. As moments go by until every single member of the crowd begins to get to their feet. A slow clap starting into, a loud rawr as Jett simply lifts up a hand struggling with the emotions.

JOHNSON: ”What a moment, these fans have been on this journey with him. We all have.”

Walking around wanting to show all the fans their respect. At the top of the ramp, seemingly the entire roster starts to file out onto the stage. Joining the crowd in offering Jett a standing ovation. Everyone from his first Boss, Perry Wallace who signed him as a young boy. His babysitter Marquis. His pal Bryan even flying in for the occasion. All of them watching this young boy become a man, showing their respects for Jett’s now revoked V-Card. Jett nearly seems ready to shed a tear as the entire crowd breaks out into a chant.

“YOU DESERVE IT!

YOU DESERVE IT!

YOU DESERVE IT!

YOU DESERVE IT!”

Overcome with emotions, Jett gives them a gracious wave to every single member of the Wet for Jett section. As Jett’s still clean shorts a victory in itself. The chants slowly leading into a commercial for Octane. Who along with the main event will have a hard time topping this moment.

MAIN EVENT
4CW CHAMPIONSHIP
MARIANO FERNANDEZ VS. BRONX VALESCENCE ©

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and will be for the 4CW Championship!”

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

problem?

“Many folks they never heard of me

So i’ma introduce myself by using some hyperboles

I am that voice that talks a ton but no one chatters back

They rather act like blatters act and spaz on rappers, matter fact”

POWERS: ”And now, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds! From Buenos Aires, Argentina, by way of Miami, Florida… ‘THE GADFLY’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”

“… Waiting for the day I’ll get the silence I deserve

So I ain’t talking oxen when I say, I just want to be heard!”

The lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, Mariano is standing at the stage entrance, posing to the crowd going wild. He then beings striding decidedly and steadily to the ring.

“It seems like everywhere I gooooooooo

Everybody, they’re trying to steal the shoooooooow

(AHA!) So I’m here with my plan

I got to let’em hear who I am!”

Once he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he raises his fist to the air, receiving a HUGE crowd pop!

“I wanna show that NOW’S MY TIME, TODAY’S MY DAY!

TO MAKE ‘EM SAY DAG ‘CAUSE I’M GETTIN’ MY WAY!

IT’S MY TIME TO SHINE AND IT’S OKAY-YAY-YAY-YAY!”

As the music and the lights come back to normal, Mariano grabs the microphone from a member of the ringside crew.

FERNANDEZ: “FUS RO DAH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”After defeating twenty nine other people in the Four Corners Frenzy, Mariano finally gets to cash in his prize for a shot at the 4CW Championship here tonight!”

VASSA: ”People have been giving him hell ever since but they didn’t win the Frenzy. That guy right there did, Da Troll Guy!”

JOHNSON: ”Mariano has been with 4CW for a year and tonight, he gets the biggest opportunity of his career within the Corners Four.”

VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ, can you not say that? Please?!”

JOHNSON: ”Ever since winning the Frenzy everyone has been after Mariano about the way he presents himself on social media. Some would even say that he doesn’t deserve to be in this position tonight.”

VASSA: ”There are always going to be haters no matter who you are. He’s the one who won the big match. He’s the one who earned his opportunity tonight. No one can take that from him. He may be an underdog going into this match but this is his match, one on one with the 4CW Champion.”

The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage.

POWERS: ”And the champion!”

Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he pulls his ring jacket back to reveal the 4CW Championship around his waist, he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp, occasionally pointing at the belt and talking trash.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds… He is the 4CW Champion… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Pulling his title belt off with one hand, he opens his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit, waiting for the referee to come over and take his title.

VASSA: ”There he is, the man who single handedly made Vossler leave the Octane Championship behind last week and run for the hills.”

JOHNSON: ”Not only that, but he’s also your 4CW Champion! With one HUGE successful defense under his belt, he’s looking to add a second with his match tonight.”

VASSA: ”It’s no secret. There’s no love loss between these two, probably more so from Bronx. He’s been very vocal with his opinion towards Mariano and how he feels that he doesn’t deserve to be given this opportunity tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s plenty of motivation from both men going into this match tonight. With a win here tonight, Bronx can look forward to Fright Night just around the corner where he could very well have to defend again in the Warzone.”

VASSA: ”He picked a bad time to win the championship at South Beach Brawl with Ante Up and Fright Night next in line.”

JOHNSON: ”Being 4CW Champion is no easy task and that’s what motivates him to push himself each and every day. Bronx wants to be one of, if not the best 4CW Champions in history.”

VASSA: ”Before he can get to that point, he has a speed bump in his path tonight that he must cross over and Mariano isn’t going down without a fight.”

JOHNSON: ”And that the truth?!”

VASSA: ”It sure is, mang!”

In the center of the ring, the official stands with the 4CW Championship in hand. Raising it high above his head, he then turns to each side of the ring, presenting it to the Detroit crowd. A loud commotion is then heard at ringside and as the camera cuts to its direction, Kid Rock and his entourage are in the front row near the announcers booth. Turning back to him, Vassa slaps hands with the man with excitement in his eyes.

VASSA: ”Oh my god! I can’t believe Kid Rock is here tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”Are you serious?! You were literally at his concert earlier tonight.”

VASSA: ”I meant here at Adrenaline! Sitting right behind me! THIS IS WILD!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I for one think his music is garbage.”

VASSA: ”And that’s why you’re an old wrinkled up faggot!”

Back to the ring, the official checks in with each corner, getting the okay from both Mariano and Bronx. With both men now ready to get things underway, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Stepping away from his corner, Mariano walks to the center of the ring while rolling his shoulders and keeping himself loose. Looking from side to side, Bronx looks to the crowd as he leans against the corner with his arms draped over the top ropes. He then pushes himself upright and slowly approaches Manny until the two are standing eye to eye. After a short exchange of words, Bronx cracks a smile before raising his right arm to his side and pointing to the crowd. Manny turns his head and right there in plain sight is a fan with a sign held above their head.

DA #PEG GUY

Rubbing his chin and laughing to himself, Manny then raises his right arm to his side, pointing to the opposite side of the ring. Bronx slowly turns his head in the direction and locks his eyes on a sign as well.

TAYLOR SWIFT
IS GARBAGE

An irritated look comes over Bronx as he slowly turns his attention back to Manny. After half a minute of back and forth banter, Manny then extends his hand out to Bronx. With his hands on his hips, Bronx looks down at his hand before catching him off guard and swatting it out from in front. With his other hand, Bronx then swings and catches Manny upside the head with a stiff right. Throwing another right and another, Bronx lays into Manny with multiple punches, backing him across the ring. Manny’s back touches the ropes and with nowhere to go, his breath is then knocked out of him by a knee to the stomach. Grabbing ahold of Manny’s wrist and shoulder, Bronx then throws him to the ropes across the ring and as he bounces off, Bronx takes off for him at full speed. Leaping forward into the air, Bronx drives his shoulder into Manny’s knocking him flat on his back with shoulder block.

The two race to their feet, Bronx standing first and quickly moving in with a right over Manny’s head as he gets to one knee. Kicking his left leg up, Bronx slams his foot into Manny’s shoulder before spinning in the opposite direction and leveling him with roundhouse. Pulling Manny back to his feet, Bronx ducks and wraps Manny up low before lifting him off his feet and flipping him over to the mat with a Northern Lights suplex. Bridging the suplex, he has Manny shoulders to the mat as the official quickly drops down beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

Kicking out, Manny pushes Bronx off of him, breaking up the officials count. Bronx pushes himself back to his feet quickly before laying into Manny’s ribs with rapid kicks. Stepping over him, Bronx walks towards the ropes with his back turned to Manny. Out of nowhere, Manny leans back and grabs the back of Bronx’s pants. Pulling him backwards and to the mat, Manny rolls him up as the official jumps back down beside them.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

JOHNSON: ”NNOOOO!!!”

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Mariano just about put Bronx away for the three count!”

JOHNSON: ”You never know what to expect inside of that ring and Mariano caught him completely off guard.”

The two get back to their feet before circling the center of the ring. Bronx begins yelling across at Manny about the cheap attempt. Stopping in his tracks, Manny then shrugs his shoulders as the camera zooms in to his lips saying “problem?” Furious, Bronx charges Manny and throws a wild punch for his head. Side stepping him, Manny then takes him face down to the canvas with a drop-toe hold! Bronx head bounces off the mat as he pushes himself up in a fluid motion, rising before Mariano even. Stepping into Manny before he stands, Bronx extends both arms to grab onto him but is completely taken by surprise when Manny wraps him around the waist and lifts him into the air. Taking a step forward, Manny slams him down with an inverted atomic drop, stiffening his body as his posture straightens. Rushing forward, Mariano goes for a clothesline but misses as Bronx ducks underneath. Stopping in his tracks, Manny then does a back flip just as Bronx turns around, hitting him right in the face with a pele kick. Bronx stumbles backwards across the ring before hitting the ropes and as he comes back, Manny pushes himself up and then charges towards him. Leaping forward, Manny flies through the air and collides into Bronx in the center of the ring with a flying forearm shot to the grill, knocking him flat on his back!

VASSA: ”Da Troll Guy is taking it to the champ!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx was looking for a fight and I believe he’s found one!”

VASSA: ”With the way Mariano is fighting, you’d think his girlfriend threatened to peg him again if he didn’t win tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Now that’s just uncalled for…”

Pulling Bronx to his feet, Manny locks his arm around his head before grabbing onto the back of his pants. Pulling him by the waistband, he lifts Bronx up and over, dropping him flat on his back with a snap suplex. Turning to the nearby corner, Manny rushes over, leaping up to the middle ropes and then climbing the rest of the way to the top. Looking over the crowd for a split second, Manny then leaps backwards, flipping through the air and coming down with a moonsault!

VASSA: ”CUCKED!!!”

JOHNSON: ”OOOHHHHHH!!!”

Curling both legs and raising his knees, Bronx counters Manny’s moonsault attempt with two knees to the gut. Manny bounces off and flips over, falling to the mat on his back. With both men on their backs, the official then begins the ten count!

“One! … Two!”

JOHNSON: ”Luckily for Bronx he was able to counter that moonsault attempt from Mariano, but now both men are completely out of breath.”

VASSA: ”We just literally watched Mariano have his breath and momentum sucked right out of him seconds ago.”

“Three! … Four!”

Both men begin to slowly stir as the official continues counting.

JOHNSON: ”If this thing ends in a ten count, Bronx will retain the championship and Mariano’s opportunity will be all for nothing.”

“Five! … Six!”

Rolling in opposite directions, Bronx and Manny move towards the ropes.

“Seven! … Eight!”

Grabbing onto the ropes, Bronx then begins to pull himself up as Manny does the same.

“Nine!”

Just as the official begins to motion his hand for the ten count, Mariano then pulls himself up and rises to his feet, stopping him before he can even say ten.

JOHNSON: ”Mariano is up and the match will continue.”

VASSA: ”Cutting it close Manny! He knows what that ten count means and refuses to let that be the end result here tonight.”

Limping across the ring, Mariano heads for Bronx as he holds himself up with the ropes. Closing in, he takes a swing but as his fist comes within inches, Bronx ducks down. As Manny’s arm flies overhead, Bronx uses manny’s momentum against him as he wraps him up and stands tall, lifting Manny into the air and over the top rope. Turning his body and grabbing onto the top rope, Manny guides himself to a landing on the apron. As Bronx turns to face him, Manny ducks down and pulls himself through the ropes, driving his shoulder into Bronx’s stomach. In desperation, Bronx grabs onto Manny’s head, keeping him at bay and from making his next move. Pulling his head up, Bronx then drops down to a seated position, pulling Manny’s head back down and slamming his throat across the top rope. Manny’s head bounces off the top rope and the momentum alone forces him off his feet as he flies backwards off the apron.

VASSA: ”Oh watch out!”

JOHNSON: ”Incoming!”

Crashing back first into the front of the announcers booth, Manny’s arms stretch across the top of the surface, holding himself up just barely. As Manny comes to his senses, Bronx regains his focus before brushing his hair from out of his face and turning to the opposite side of the ring. Racing across the ring, he hits the ropes and picks up even more speed on the rebound. With Manny pushing himself up from the booth, Bronx then closes in on the ropes and leaps up and over the top. Flying through mid air, Bronx flips forward and as he comes down, he collides into Manny with a senton! As Manny falls backwards, Bronx slides across his body before his feet touch down to the booth and he stands tall. A mess of papers flies in all directions from the gush of wind brought in by the momentum of their bodies. Sliding down the side of the booth, Manny drops to a seated position on the floor as the official on the inside begins the ten count.

“One!”

Squatting down, down, Bronx grabs two handfuls of Manny’s hair before pulling him back up to his feet.

“Two! … Three!”

Hooking his arms underneath Manny’s Bronx then pulls him up onto the booth.

“Four! … Five!”

Pulling his arm away from Bronx, Manny then throws it back with force, hitting Bronx in the mouth with an elbow shot. Bronx doesn’t release his hold and again, Manny throws back another elbow and connects with a shot to Bronx face, this time freeing himself.

“Six!”

Drawing back, Bronx hits Manny in the back of the head with a forearm shot, knocking him a couple steps across the booth.

“Seven!”

In the blink of an eye, Manny then does a backflip, connecting his foot to Bronx’s head and hitting him with a second pele kick! The impact from the kick sends Bronx flying backwards off the booth and onto the top of the barricade before flipping over it and crashing to the floor at Kid Rock’s feet.

“Eight!”

Rolling to his side, Manny then drops down to his feet on the floor before heading back towards the ring.

“Nine!”

Rolling underneath the bottom rope, Manny enters the ring and then immediately rolls back out before the officials ten count, forcing the official to restart from one.

VASSA: ”That’s another close call from Mariano but he knows the importance of keeping the ten count alive.”

JOHNSON: ”In any other match he would remain in the ring and win by count out but that won’t cut it tonight. Restarting the officials ten count saved him from having this match prematurely ended.”

Back on his feet, Manny heads for the barricade where Bronx is slowly being assisted back to his feet by no one other than Kid Rock.

“One!”

As Manny gets within range, Bronx leans over the barricade and hits him in the side of the head with a solid right, knocking him back a step.

“Two!”

Manny then swings over the barricade for Bronx and if things couldn’t get any better, Bronx grabs ahold of Kid Rock and pulls him in front of him. His fist slams against Kid Rock’s jaw, knocking him down to the floor as Bronx releases him.

“Three!”

In complete and utter shock, Mariano’s jaw drops to the floor in disbelief at what he just did.

VASSA: ”Next time take a shot at Limp Bizkit!”

JOHNSON: ”Who?”

VASSA: ”Exactly!”

“Four!”

Like a pie across the face, a piece of Little Caesars pizza smacks Mariano head on. The piece blinds him momentarily as the sauce gets into his eyes. Climbing onto the top of the barricade, Bronx then leaps forward, wrapping his arm around Mariano’s head. The momentum of Bronx forces the two to turn for what appears to be an incoming tornado DDT. Wrapping Bronx around the waist with both arms, Mariano keeps him in the air long enough to go for the ring, slamming Bronx back first into the ring post.

“Five! … Six!”

Reaching back and grabbing onto the ropes with both hands, Bronx pulls himself up and out of Mariano’s arms, climbing backwards to the top of the corner.

“Seven!”

Pulling himself up to the apron, Mariano stands tall before Bronx leaps in his direction. Hooking his arm over Manny’s head, Bronx pulls him down throat first to the top rope, this time lifting him off his feet and flipping him back into the ring as Bronx lands inside as well. Manny flips through the air before landing on his back near the center of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Holy–“

VASSA: ”SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”These two are pulling out all the stops here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Too bad Kid Rock’s knockout was the highlight of his two night concert here in the Little Caesars Arena.”

Pulling himself up with the ropes, Bronx rises to his feet as Manny rolls back and forth in the center of the ring. As Manny begins to slowly push himself up, Bronx locks his sights on him and stands back, holding his position. With his back turned to Bronx, Manny then stands completely.

VASSA: ”This might be it…”

Running towards Manny, Bronx leaps forward at him and flips in the air. Hooking his arm around Manny’s head, he lifts Manny off his feet and flips him as well before dropping him head first into the canvas with a front flip DDT!

JOHNSON: ”VALESCENCE’S VICTORY!!!”

VASSA: ”OH MY MANG!!!”

Rolling over Mariano and hooking his leg, Bronx rests his back against him as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–

VASSA: ”BRONX RETAINS!!!”

JOHNSON: ”WAIT A SECOND!!!”

VASSA: ”I’M NOT WAITING FOR SHIT! THE REFS HAND JUST SLAPPED THE MAT!”

Even Bronx pops up to his feet celebrating under the impression that the official counted to three. After a few moments pass, he comes to a complete stop. Looking around the arena, he begins to notice that his music isn’t playing and Mike Powers has not made an official announcement.

JOHNSON: ”Settle down Vinny. This match isn’t over yet.”

VASSA: ”We’ve been cucked!”

Slowly turning around, a look of shock comes to Bronx’s face at the sight of Mariano still showing signs of life while on the mat. Beside him, the official kneels while look up to Bronx and signaling that the match is still going. Zooming into Bronx’s face, his lips read “FUCK!” He then puts it behind him as he walks over to Manny and grabs him by the head. Pulling Manny up to his feet, Bronx holds him in place before drawing back and crushing him in the face with a stiff right hand. Manny stumbles backwards and hits the ropes. With Manny coming back at him, Bronx goes for his head with a superkick! Ducking underneath, Manny steps in behind Bronx and reaches back, locking onto his head with both hands and then dropping him to the mat with a neckbreaker!

JOHNSON: ”Mariano’s still got some fight left in him!”

VASSA: ”Hopefully nothing that his girlfriend left in there! But he’s completely destroyed any and all momentum Bronx had not with just that neckbreaker, but by also doing the unthinkable and kicking out from that pin!”

Holding the back of his neck, Bronx rolls over to his knees As Mariano lays beside him. Nearly out of gas, Mariano then slowly begins to push himself up and as he stands, Bronx is still down at his feet. Backing across the ring, Mariano creates some distance between the two as Bronx slowly begins pushing himself up. Once he’s up to both knees, Mariano jobs in and connects with a step-up enzuigiri!

JOHNSON: ”THE GADFLY!!!”

VASSA: ”BRONX GOES DOWN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”How much more can these two take?”

VASSA: ”Beats me and I’m pretty sure that this performance Mariano is giving us tonight is the last thing that Bronxy expected.”

Barely on his feet and able to stand, Mariano circles Bronx for a short moment before grabbing ahold of him and slowly pulling him back to his feet. Hooking his arm around Bronx’s head, Mariano then grabs ahold of his waistband before lifting him upside down into the air. Transitioning the vertical suplex, Mariano then drops Bronx directly on his head with a piledriver!

VASSA: ”HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”THE DOVAHKIIN DRIVER!!!”

VASSA: ”MARIANO SPIKED HIS HEAD RIGHT INTO THE MAT!!!”

As Bronx drops down to his back, Mariano falls right beside him. With both men down, the official then begins the ten count yet another time!

“One! … Two! … Three!”

VASSA: ”Someone better make a move and do it fast because I don’t know how much longer either of these men can continue here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”This has been a brutal back and forth match this evening, even involving a celebrity who was used as a shield.”

“Four! … Five! … Six!”

JOHNSON: ”I hate to say it, but this thing is going to end in a no contest.”

VASSA: ”That’s a damn shame.”

“Seven! … Eight! … Nine!”

VASSA: ”This is the last thing I expected to see here ton–“

JOHNSON: ”WAIT!!!”

Before the official counts to ten, Mariano drapes his arm over Bronx’s chest. Immediately, the official drops down to his knees beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”HOLY HELL!!! WAS THAT A THREE COUNT?!”

JOHNSON: ”It appears so but after what happened earlier, I think it’s best to wait for the official ruling.”

VASSA: ”UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE!!!”

Pushing himself up, the official then signals for the bell as the entire arena goes silent.

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

JOHNSON: ”MARIANO FERNANDEZ WINS IT!!!”

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT WE HAVE A NEW 4CW CHAMPION!!!”

“Now’s My Time” hits the speakers and still, the arena and all those in attendance remain silent. Still down and unable to move, Mariano and Bronx lie beside one another as the music plays throughout the building. Kneeling in beside Mariano, the official has the 4CW Championship. Grabbing Mariano’s limp arm, he then pulls it off of Bronx’s chest and raises it into the air.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and NEW 4CW Champion… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”

Still, the crowd looks on in silence, unsure of how to react to what had just happened before their eyes. Is this real? Is it a joke? Are they being trolled right now? No one knows.

VASSA: ”I’m in shock right now, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”So is everyone else. Mariano has done the unthinkable and beat Bronx here tonight for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”I’m not so sure about that. This is clearly the way people act before a riot begins and all hell breaks loose.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh stop it you! There is going to be no riot. There was no bomb as people feared. This is just a match, like any other.”

VASSA: ”That’s easy for you to say. Have at it. I’m not hanging around and finding out. I’m getting the fuck out of here, grabbing a pizza, and leaving the arena before anything bad happens.”

JOHNSON: ”But we’re not done yet…”

VASSA: ”Fuck that, I’m out!”

Taking his headset off, Vinny throws it onto the announcers booth before standing up from his seat. Walking past the ring, he then heads up the ramp in a hurry as everyone in the building continues to watch in silence.

JOHNSON: ”Well, there you have it ladies and gentlemen. After winning the Four Corners Frenzy, Mariano has come to Detroit and claimed the 4CW Championship as his own, defeating the defending champion, Bronx Valescence.”

At the top of the ramp, Vinny continues straight on, not looking back for even a split second. In the ring, both Mariano and Bronx remain down on the mat as the official stands beside them still holding the 4CW Championship.

JOHNSON: ”With having one successful defense to his reign, and a HUGE one at that, I can only imagine that we will see a rematch between these two for the championship at Fright Night. I’m not certain, but there’s a big possibility that this is in the works given the rematch clause outlines.”

Looking around the arena, Steve eyes the crowd who have yet to even react to the result of the match they just witnessed.

JOHNSON: ”I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the official announcement is at the next Adrenaline, if not in the weeks leading up to it. And with that, I’m going to sign off. Thank you all for joining us here tonight and we look forward to seeing you all in two weeks as we head to the Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland, Ohio. From the folks at 4CW, good night all. I’m Steve Johnson… signing off!”

Silence consumes the area as both Bronx and Mariano have yet to show any signs of life. The picture then slowly begins to transition to black before the Showtime logo appears in the center of the screen.