ADRENALINE E75 (124)

NOVEMBER 15TH, 2017 FREEDOM HALL LOUISVILLE, KY

PRE-SHOW
TRIPLE THREAT
DEAN JUDAS VS. JUNE KOLBY
VS. ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE

The match started out with the Adrenaline fans chanting at Dean Judas that “he can’t wrestle,” a statement that would turn out to be proven profoundly true by Alessandro Quagliaterre. June Kolby, on the other hand, got so flustered by Alessandro’s absolute domination of Dean Judas that she decided to take her ball and go home, dipping out of the ring and heading backstage likely to never be heard from again. Not that anyone really knew who the hell she was in the first place. The fans barely noticed she was gone, instead focusing on Alessandro’s clear superior in ring ability attacking Judas with suplexes, brain busters, back breakers and body slams until finally he grew tired of acting like a cat playing with his food. He finished off the match quickly by hoisting Judas up onto his shoulder, tossing him over and bringing his knee directly up to his face hitting BEDTIME before dropping down to hook the leg of Dean Judas for the three count. As his hand was raised in the air in victory the fans switched their chants from Judas to focus on Alessandro, chanting “Phoenix Cucked You!” until he exited the ring and headed backstage.

WINNER: Alessandro Quagliaterre via Pinfall (6:19)

With “Bulls On Parade” playing in the background, the scene opens up to a clear shot of the inside of the Freedom Hall in Louisville, Kentucky. Inside of the ring, the camera spins in a circle, displaying the crowded house tonight as we rev things up for Adrenaline E75. Once making a full revolution, the camera then begins zooming in to various signs held in the sea of people.

TRAMPOLINE
WRESTLING
FEDERATION

MCGANG BANG ME
BROKEN MCLAUGHLIN

I CAME FOR
PHE’S TITTIES

WET
FOR
BRONX

WHO IS
PEYTON’S
FATHER

JETT DESERVES
THE MAIN EVENT
AT THE PPV

The scene pans around the arena showing the fans going crazy. The top row of one section is lined with pre-teen girls in their Wet For Jett t-shirts. As one turns around a modification to the shirt has been made that has a gigantic red NO sign with Tiffani Michaels name in the middle of it. Other fans are shown wearing shirts and holding signs in support of their favorite superstars as well until finally the camera’s focus in on Vinny Vassa and Steve Johnson.

VASSA: ”Did I really just see a sign for an OCTANE roster member on our show, Steve?!”

JOHNSON: ”Well it was for the Octane Champion. And Bryan Laughlin was a member of the Adrenaline roster long before Octane was a twinkle in its daddy’s eye. So I’m not surprised he still has fans here.”

VASSA: ”Fuck that and fuck him. We beat that Octane ass at Fright Night in the War Games match. WE DON’T NEED THAT SHIT HERE! GET THAT IDIOT OUT!”

JOHNSON: ”Anyway, while Vinny regains his composure, folks, welcome to another episode of Adrenaline and boy what a show we have for you tonight.”

VASSA: ”I’m good. I’m good. And you’re right, it’s packed from top to bottom. Mostly.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve got new champions. We’ve got new contenders. Hell, we’ve even got Johnny Evil in a dress. What more could you ask for?”

VASSA: ”I bet you’re wishing our new extreme champion was out here so that you could get another face full, eh old timer?”

JOHNSON: ”Well I don’t believe Genevieve is slated for action here tonight but I’ve heard she’s in the building and if she wants to help an old man get things working again, who am I to say no?”

VASSA: ”THAT’S RIGHT STEVE! YOU CUCK ELI AFTER ALL THAT HE DID TO YOU!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know about all of that. Besides, we’ve got more important things to talk about than a former champion who’s wrestling in backyards across America these days. We’ve got Jair Hopkins facing Chris Madison one on one in what could be the match of the century.”

VASSA: ”You’re not supposed to start with the main event, Steve, GOD! We kick things off tonight with the CRIPPLEMAN versus the BUTCHER in a no holds barred contest and I bet Dakota is about to eat every single ounce of Alioth’s fuck.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know what that means but we’ve also got Luke Jones and Devin Zebrak in action. As well as Boston squaring off against Johnny Evil. Or is it Dahlia these days?”

VASSA: ”Who the fuck knows or cares. He’s looked like a woman for a long time with that Brandon Banks man bun hair and gay lumberjack beard.”

JOHNSON: ”Kris and Cyrus Riddle will compete tonight as well. And perhaps the match that Jason Cashe is looking forward to the most, Alexis Morrison will take on Cashe’s Thunder Buddy, Aidan Carlisle.”

VASSA: ”Closing out the undercard is BRYAN GOSLING HIMSELF taking on Miles Blake’s favorite son, Andre Holmes.”

JOHNSON: ”He’s not actually Miles Blake’s son, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”YOU DONT KNOW THAT! BUT I DO! I looked it up on Ancestry.com”

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ. Anyway, our new Pride Champion Kimitsu Zombie and the former Fate champion Anastasia Hayden will come to blows after a rumored spat on social media this week between them. And then of course… Jett Wilder”

VASSA: ”Wish it was Carmella.”

JOHNSON: ”Takes on the NEW! TWO TIME! TWO TIME! 4CW CHAMPION! IT HIM! BRONX VALESCENCE!”

VASSA: ”Whoa. Okay folks for the second time in two weeks I think my partner Steve is standing at full attention if you know what I mean. So we’re going to head backstage and give him a moment to… work this out. Be right back.”

The screen goes black.

Not the lights in the arena turning off or something like that, no. The entire Showtime broadcast of this latest episode of the fine wrestling program known as Adrenaline goes black for a couple of seconds. However, just before it’s long enough to force someone to search for the remote control at home the scene reopens with none other than the smiling face of Christopher J. Wrigley. It’s one hell of a smile too, ear to ear looking like something out of the cartoons. Behind him are the tag team champions, Brody Lee Prince and Magnus Brutus, complete with their tag team title belts up on their shoulders.

But this is more about the man in the forefront and who the camera is nearly completely focused on, Wrigley. And he’s ready for you to listen.

WRIGLEY: “Greetings motherfuckers!”

His arms extend outward and upward as he says that, the camera backs up enough to catch him from the waist up doing so.

WRIGLEY: “And that goes double for all of you remaining tag teams on the 4CW roster. Because as of this moment, the takeover is complete. One hundred percent, the Hostile Takeover showed up and has marched through every single challenge here in the biggest and best wrestling company in the world and now we sit on the throne. We are finally in the position that we have always desired.

Are we the best tag team of all time? Maybe, you can’t say that for sure. However, we defeated the greatest tag team of all time. DEE. PHE. TED. Between the duo of Jair Hopkins and Jason Cashe, they have nearly half of the victories in the history of 4CW in both singles competition and tag competition. Half. Six total world title reigns. The foundation, no fuck that, the cornerstone of the corners four…”

Brody Lee fake coughs, which stops Wrigley and causes him to turn around to see what’s up in the middle of his ranting.

PRINCE: “You just quoted Miles Blake.”

Wrigley thinks about it for a moment, Magnus even does a double take and looks away from the camera.

WRIGLEY: “Holy fuck, I did. I apologize there, it will never happen again folks. I promise you that!

Where was I? Oh yeah…”

Wrigley clears his throat and once again starts all over.

WRIGLEY: “These two men defeated the greatest tag team that 4CW could have ever put forth against us and we took them to the limit in Japan and then we finally finished what we started in Chi-town!

While some of you might say that is a good claim for greatest tag team of all time. I am not going to say that, no. However, it’s a hell of start and it’s only going to get worse for the rest of you from this point further. What do I mean? Well, it’s simple. Now that we have the belts, now that we’re on top, now that we have the power it is time for us to use that power.”

A huge grin slowly grows on Wrigley’s face once again. Slowly the camera backs off, and there stands Wrigley with his own version of a 4CW tag team title belt which is an oversized version of the 4CW tag team title belt, completely covered in gold and even has some flashing lights surrounding the title itself to draw even more attention to it. Oh, and does that 4CW logo spin? You damn right it spins.

WRIGLEY: “It is my pleasure to announce that from this point forward, any tag team match that takes place in 4CW will be under Wrigley’s Law! What exactly is Wrigley’s Law, you ask? Gentlemen, give them all a big clue at home…”

Magnus and Brody Lee slip on masks. Magnus’ mask is none other than a hockey mask straight out of Friday the 13th, Brody Lee’s mask is directly from something from the Purge movies.

WRIGLEY: “Fright Night is now going to be every night here in 4CW! We ain’t done celebrating and thanks to Wrigley’s Law, we don’t have to stop doing what we do best. Breaking every goddamn thing. We are going to carve out own legacy here in 4CW, we are going to kick down every single door and we are going to show that we are the greatest damn tag team of all time, but we’re only getting started.

Prepare for the Takeover!”

With that the feed goes black once again.

OPENING MATCH
NO HOLDS BARRED
ALIOTH STARRE VS. DAKOTA SMITH

POWERS: ”The Following Contest is scheduled for one fall and will be fought under No Holds Barred rules…”

The lights blackened in the arena, the only sign of life, little flickers of cellphone screens illuminated like stars in the night. Thaiko drums bang as a curtain is raised over the stage only to be swamped under with the circling of red and yellow lights, falling like a thin veil to reveal the Emperor on his throne.

Starre sits on a dark, wooden thrown with black cushioning. The stile risen almost five feet over him with a carved A in the splat, a crown carved into the crest rail. He steps down from his throne, his black coat heavy and follows behind over his shoulders. As he makes his way to the ring, he stops right at the threshold of aisle and ringside to sling the coat over one shoulder and onto the floor, then toss the crown of thorns out to the crowd as he then goes to the steps and ropes into the ring.

POWERS: ”Introducing first”

Starre ascends the second rope, hands folded behind his back, body leaned forward against the third rope and observes his subjects around him with an apathetic, knowing glance.

VASSA: ”HERE HE IS! THE EMPEROR OF GALVESTON ISLAND! XIVIVXIXIVIXIXVIVIXIXVI”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny what are you doing?”

VASSA: ”Saying Roman numerals for no reason. Haven’t you paid attention to what Alioth says on social media?”

JOHNSON: ”Do I look like I use social media, Vinny? I still have a damn flip phone. So lets just skip the non-sense and I’ll say I’m interested to see if Alioth has what it takes to survive in a playground that people like his opponent tonight thrive in.”

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

I obeyed their every wish

I’ll fuck your body infront of your kids

Cannibalism, I serve you up to the cult

You’re my latest dish

Picking human meat out of my teeth like Albert Fish

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

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

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

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

VASSA: ”I can’t believe you’re still using that old flip phone. I bet Dakota has even climbed out of the stone ages in that sense. I mean, he’s still in the stone ages on social and moral issues. But that’s a story for another time.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think you want to be on record having said anything negative about Dakota Smith.”

VASSA: ”I’m just saying his mind is still living in a world where it thinks necrophilia is normal.”

JOHNSON: ”Why do you always have to talk about the worst shit, Vinny? Can we just focus on the match at hand. Please? I’m begging you.”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell sounds Dakota paces back and forth in his corner while Alioth stares across the ring at him coldly. The two men seem to size each other up briefly before finally coming together in the center of the ring. Seeking to use his technical base to attack the Butcher, Alioth shoots in towards Dakota’s left leg but Dakota counters by thrusting a thumb out, jabbing Alioth in the eye. Clutching at his right eye, which Smith had just assaulted, Alioth rubs at it trying to clear his vision as quickly as possible, standing back up and backing off. Dakota is unwilling to give him the distance that he wants, though, rapidly moving to grab him by both ears. As he does so Dakota pulls Alioth’s face towards his, leaning forward and biting the man in the cheek right underneath his left eye.

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ what the fuck?!”

JOHNSON: ”Sometimes a butcher tastes his victim? I don’t know. It’s Dakota. Did you really expect him not to take full advantage of the no holds barred stipulation?”

In a desperate attempt to get Dakota away from him, Starre rapidly brings his right knee up into Dakota’s family jewels. Although… we’ve all seen how Dakota dresses so his family jewels are probably a rusted banjo and a few empty jars that had previously held moonshine but now housed families of mice. Meditation on Dakota’s family jewels would have to wait until a later date, however, as Alioth, bleeding from under his left eye now, quickly landed a chop block to his opponents knee, buckling Dakota to the ground. Instead of continuing to attack Dakota, Alioth dropped to his back and quickly rolled himself out of the ring. Once outside, kneeling on the floor, Starre lifted up the ring apron and began to search under the ring for a weapon. After a few moments he found what he was looking for, pulling out a steel chair and sliding it underneath the bottom rope and into the ring.

Moments later Alioth followed the chair and rolled himself back into the ring just as Dakota was starting to get back to his feet. Rage clear in the butchers face, Alioth quickly wiped that rage away with a vicious chair shot to the face that left Dakota slackjawed like his name was Carmella Wilder. Considering his options with the chair, the Emperor stared at the object in his hand for a moment before finally decided to position it so that it was slotted around Smith’s left leg. Seconds later Alioth unleashed a flurry of stomps onto the chair with Dakota’s leg trapped in between it. Finishing off the flurry of stomps, Starre moved to the corner and ascended to the middle rope before jumping off and stomping onto the chair with both feet. Convulsing, Dakota’s hands desperately flailed trying to get his leg out of being wedged in the chair while simulataneously trying to ease the pain.

VASSA: ”Looks like Alioth is trying to put the Butcher on disability.”

JOHNSON: ”The arthritis in my knees is hurting just watching this.”

VASSA: ”You’d think the former Crippleman would know what it feels like. But then I guess he didn’t have much feeling from the waist down, did he?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, Vinny. Do I look like a fucking doctor. All I know is that you don’t hear Dakota scream like that very often. So yes, I think that hurts.”

Before Dakota can pull his leg free, Alioth is on him once more. Two more stomps have Dakota gritting his teeth, snarling from the pain. Looking to put the match away quickly, Alioth quickly grabs the leg that isn’t trapped in the chair and twists it between his legs, locking in the FOUR STAR MARY, Alioth’s rendition of the figure four leg lock. Arching his back in obvious pain, Dakota swats at Alioth’s feet trying to get him to let go of the submission maneuver. But he’s trapped in the middle of the ring and Alioth quickly wrenches on the hold even harder. All around the arena the fans buzz and pop, not sure whether or not they believe that Dakota Smith is about to get beat by the Emperor to kick off the seventy fifth episode of Adrenaline.

With desperation setting in and the reality that he might have to tap out settling in his mind, Dakota reaches out with his right hand and shoves his fingers into the mouth of Alioth Starre, grabbing onto his bottom lips, digging in his nails and yanking on it as hard as possible. Nearly having his whole bottom lip ripped loose of its natural position distracts Alioth enough to give Dakota the opening he needs. As the hold loosens, Dakota quickly works one leg free, planting it into Alioths chest to shove him away. Getting his leg free from the chair was the next step, which Dakota quickly accomplished. Getting back up to his feet was the third step but as he did so he immediately dropped back down to one knee, caressing the leg that had been damaged by the submission hold and his opponents assault.

Getting back to his feet, the look in Alioth’s eye says that he’s no where near done. But unfortunately as he closes in on Dakota he’s met with a jab to the throat which stumbles the emperor backward, gasping for air as his aware absorbed the shock of the assault at the large man’s hands. Finally pushing himself back up to his feet, Dakota hobbles over to his corner and turns his back to Alioth, untying the strings keeping the turnbuckle pad in place. Keeping his back to his opponent, Dakota baits Alioth into thinking that he’s not paying attention. Recovered from the shot to his throat, Alioth dashes across the ring and leaps into the air, thinking to splash Dakota between himself and the corner pads. At the last second, however, Dakota slides out of the way and brings the turnbuckle pad with him, leaving Alioth to crash down into the exposed turnbuckle. Clutching at his chest, Starre drops to the mat as Dakota mimics him, though instead of laying there in pain Smith rolls outside much like Alioth had earlier in the match.

VASSA: ”Uh oh…”

JOHNSON: ”You never want to be laying down on the mat and have Dakota Smith outside looking for a weapon to use on you.”

VASSA: ”Do you think if he actually murders Alioth in that ring that he’ll have sex with his corpse before the police get here?”

JOHNSON: ”What makes you think the police will actually be here? Synnum De La Cruz, Maddox Lucien and Mya Denton were all killed in a 4CW ring and nobody ever arrested their murderers. Hell, nobody ever arrested Sativa when she kidnapped Johnny Evil’s child. I don’t think the police acknowledge that any of us exist.”

VASSA: ”Good point…”

Outside the ring Dakota seems to have set his sights on something, marching around the ring and swinging his legs over the security barrier where he lands on the other side, right in front of a little boy in a wheelchair. Staring at the kid, Dakota considers him for a moment before shoving him, knocking the little crippled boy over backward in his wheelchair. Grabbing onto his legs, Dakota shoves them forward and the kid rolls awkwardly out of the wheelchair with his family surrounding Dakota shouting at him. In response Dakota tells the mother that he would fuck her with her sons dead body if she didn’t shut up. That seemed to scare the woman off enough to allow Dakota to pick up the little boys wheelchair and toss it back over the security barrier as Alioth continued to writhe in pain in the middle of the ring.

Hopping back over the barrier, Dakota picked up the wheelchair and lifted it high over his head before tossing it over the top rope and into the ring. The throw is so accurate that the wheelchair lands perfectly on Alioths body before toppling over onto its side. Outside the ring Dakota laughs at the sight before getting back into the ring himself. Once inside the ring he picks the wheelchair up and begins to slam it down over and over again into the body of his opponent. After a few strikes with the chair, Dakota takes it and sets it up off to the side of the emperor, lining the two right wheels up with Alioth’s head. Smirking, Dakota pushes it forward as quickly as he could manage, running over Alioth’s face with the wheels of the wheelchair.

Quickly, Dakota picked up the wheelchair and slammed it into Alioth a few more times before dragging the man back up to his feet. In a daze, Alioth tries to throw punches but they’re weak and easily avoided by Dakota who stalks him like a predator. It’s only a single kick to the stomach later before Alioth finds himself being placed into a fisherman’s suplex position, lifted high over Dakota’s head and then transitioned into a sit-out spine buster. RIGHT ON THE WHEELCHAIR! DEADMAN WONDERLAND ON THE WHEELCHAIR. Shaking his head and laughing at the sight, Dakota quickly rolled to cover his fallen opponent as the referee slid in and counted.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

As the referee tries to raise Dakota’s hand, Smith pulls his hand away and kicks Alioth a few more times before raising his own arms in the air as Mike Powers announced the result

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall…. ‘The Butcher’… DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Amused, Dakota continued to stare down at the fallen emperor until the scene shifts to the commentary table where Vinny Vassa and Steve Johnson both looked a bit shocked by what they had just watched unfold.

VASSA: ”Well…”

JOHNSON: ”What, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”I honestly expected worse.”

JOHNSON: ”You don’t think beating a man, who used to be wheeled around in a wheelchair, with a wheelchair until he couldn’t raise his shoulders off the mat isn’t bad enough?”

VASSA: ”I mean he bit him and poked him in the eye too… I just expected dead bodies and rape and gore and all that other stuff Dakota always talks about.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure that’s coming. Dakota seems to be getting in touch with his more violent side again and if I was Genevieve Carlson I’d be concerned. Because if Dakota decides he wants the Extreme Championship again, well… we all know the lengths he’s willing to go to.”

VASSA: ”Don’t say that. I don’t want to think of what he’d do to those glorious tiddies. So… lets just take a break and go to commercial. Or to a backstage vignette. Or something. I don’t know. My Little Pony. Something with happy thoughts! We’ll be right back.”

Following the Dakota Smith versus Alioth Starre match, 4CW cameras switch backstage, capturing The Butcher himself walking down the steps near gorilla position. But, there’s an old friend waiting for him. Cyrus Riddle was standing center in the hall, slow clapping with a smirk on his face, already in his own ring gear for the night.

RIDDLE: “Dakota fuckin’ Smith, it’s been too long, mate.”

The sadistic, almost pleasure filled smile that had covered Dakota’s face disappeared as Cyrus’ voice cut through the air of victory that was still in the air. Dakota stops on the bottom step, so that he is still somewhat standing over Cyrus. He wipes the crimson dna off of his forehead and lets out a low growl.

SMITH: ”Well if isn’t the ghost of the archetype… I heard you were roaming around these halls. Giving people quite the fright. Stealing my god damn shitck! Fuck do you want Cyrus?”

Riddle looks to Dakota curiously with a half smile on his face.

RIDDLE: “So combative, and for what? Is it possible in this beautifully twisted world we live in that a brother can just greet another brother after a victory? Plus, it’s been how long? Haven’t seen you face to face since Miami.”

Dakota sniffs the air, the smell of combat still lingering on his flesh. A half-hearted smirk grows on his bruised lips as he takes a step down. Now standing face to face with the man.

SMITH: ”The way I remember it, was I was standing over you, and you were embedded in the top of a police cruiser. But sure, why not. I hold no grudges, I paid you the price of thinking you could take me out. Maybe you have learned your lesson. We do share a fabled past after all.. The great Omerta… Dakota Smith and two other people who did nothing but constantly let him the fuck down.”

A random staff member walks by, and Dakota grabs him by the shirt all while still staring at Cyrus.

SMITH: ”Smokes, hurry the fuck up!”

The staff member fumbles in his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes, that Dakota snatches out of his hand before shoving the man away. The butcher places one in between his lips and eyes up Cyrus.

SMITH: ”Got a light?”

Cyrus reached into his pocket and pulled a lighter out, handing it to Dakota before taking the pack from him and grabbing a smoke for himself.

RIDDLE: “Yeah, about that past. Problems never arose until a third tagged along. A third who did more pontificating than actual work. No doubt I’ve held up my end until I went wayward. I paid my price, put that behind me, and as much as I hate to admit it, it made me better. So, formally, it’s only right…”

Riddle extends his hand out to Dakota.

RIDDLE: “Not for what it became, but for what it once was.”

With the cigarette now lit between his lips, The butcher takes a few drags off of it. Looking at Cyrus, and then down at his extended hand. He blows smoke in Cyrus’ direction before accepting the offer and shaking the mans hand. Before letting go however, Dakota jerks Cyrus’ arm forward – So that the two are now forehead to forehead.

SMITH: ”Just don’t you ever try and fuck me again Riddle… Don’t you ever fuck me!”

Letting out a laugh before letting go of Riddle’s hand. Dakota looks at his former partner with a shit eating grin.

SMITH: ”Surprised you”re out here alone. You usually got some little rancid piece of cunt attached to your ass.”

Riddle shrugs.

RIDDLE: “Business first. It was one of lost parts of me that led to the downfall. Playtime comes later. But, don’t go throwing stones while living in the glass house. You may not have an attachment, but I don’t overlook anything that seems out of the ordinary.”

Dakota’s eyes narrow, realizing at what Riddle was hinting at. He throws his head back in a cocky manor, before pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. Eyes going wide.

SMITH: ”That’s the thing about me though… Brother…My whole existence is out of the ordinary. All of these maggots think they have me pegged – as if they can see inside of my mind. Well I’ll tell you this… These maggots, and these so-called coworkers of mine… They eat whatever I feed them, never questioning whether or not it’s the truth. They could never understand who Dakota Smith really is, because they only see what I allow them to see. I am the director, creating perfect scenes – but never to be seen.”

RIDDLE: “That’s what makes it so fun to watch. Same reason I’m enjoying the ever-growing silence week by week as I dismantle all previous perceptions and shed a new light on why the fuck I’m here.”

Riddle gazes at another stagehand walking by, shoving him back casually before he can pass them.

RIDDLE: “They’re all puppets, whether in denial or not. And like you, I’m not serving any strings, only heads.”

Dakota can’t help but to chuckle at Riddle’s shove of the stage hand. He takes the last drag off his smoke before flicking it in the same direction as the shoved man. He then turns his attention back to Riddle.

SMITH: ”In the old gladiator arenas they used to see the combatants as gods. Because the things they did on the sands where so glorious that these simple minded peons couldn’t believe that a human could be capable of such feats. When they cheer or spew hatred… They don’t see the man… They see the icon. The name that’s up in lights. It’s good to hear that you finally understand that all of these maggots are nothing but clay – easily molded by our hands.”

RIDDLE: “Yeah, well, it took some soul searching, and then I realized mine was absent. Life is nothing more than a cycle of life to death, and I see no reason why I can’t sit in the prominent spot of that cycle, leading everyone to the end. Mental destruction of others yields amazing results, and who better than the ones who perfect it? Tonight, just like Alioth, Kris will come to realize where he stands, and I intend to enjoy every second of it.”

Dakota nods his head with agreement before cracking his neck and arms. He goes to walk by Cyrus, stopping for a second – smacking his hand down on the man’s shoulder.

SMITH: ”Well you have fun tiger… I on the other hand, got a date with a dead girl.”

Removing his hand from Riddle’s shoulder Dakota wanders off into the backstage area. The Englishman stands laughing at the remark before the feed transitions again.

UNDERCARD
DEVIN ZEBRAK VS. LUKE JONES

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

“Rockstar” by Nickelback hits. The crowd goes WILD. Devin Zebrak emerges from behind the curtain with his ridiculously spiked hair. He’s got that horrible, goofy smile on his face. He dances around to the song atop the stage. The crowd loses their shit. Devin throws his head around and jumps up and down. A gigantic “DEVIN” chant breaks out. Devin dances down the ramp. He tells a few jokes to the fans around ringside…they fall over laughing. Devin reaches ringside…he stops at the apron and twerks a little.

POWERS: ”Introducing first, from Big Arm, Montana… DEVIN ZZEEBBRRAAKK!!!”

The ladies in the front row nearly faint. The men give Devin a standing ovation. He slides into the ring and struts around like a bird…he flaps his arms in the air. The crowd continues to go wild.

VASSA: ”Haha! I LOVE IT WHEN WE LET SPECIAL OLYMPICS KIDS WRESTLE!”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t start, Vinny…”

VASSA: ”OH MY GOD WHY DIDN’T WE GET ONE TO COME DO COMMENTARY WITH US?!”

Luke makes his way out onto the ramp and looks out at the crowd as “Break You” by Lamb of God plays. He walks down the ramp and plays up to the crowd before sliding into the ring.

POWERS: “Hailing from Lexington, Kentucky! He is LUKE JJOONNEESS!!!”

Jones makes his way over to his corner as Powers announces him, paying little attention to anything else going on around him, focusing on the match and his opponent and drowning everything else out.

JOHNSON: ”I’m serious, Vincent. Don’t start.”

VASSA: ”Can you imagine? Hewwo buddies. I’m heaw to tawk about wrestling wif yous. DURR DURRRR DURRRRRRRRRR”

JOHNSON: ”………”

VASSA: ”We’d have to get a new drink holder after, though. All that drool and slobber and shit would be unsanitary.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Zebrak stares across the ring at Luke Jones, who simply stares right back at him. A bit unnerved by the fact that Luke has zero expression on his face, Zebrak starts to flap his arms like a chicken which only leads to Luke sprinting across the ring and blasting him in the side of the face with a running forearm. Zebrak slams back into the corner and has no chance to move out of the way before Luke closes the distance and begins to stomp him over and over again in the stomach. The assault continues until Zebrak finds himself down in a seated position in the corner. From there Luke takes his boot and presses it to the mans throat, putting as much force as he can muster into it as the referee scurries over and slaps him on the shoulder, telling him to break the maneuver. Jones ignores the zebra striped official until the referee reaches a four count. Holding his hands up in the air innocently, Luke backs off for just a second. Just long enough for Zebrak to start to pull himself back up. As he does so, Luke blows past the referee and cracks Devin in the side of the head with a stiff kick. Quickly, Luke goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Glaring up at the referee, Luke shoves the official before pushing himself back up to his feet, dragging Devin up with him. Quickly he irish whips his opponent into the ropes. On the rebound, however, the unorthodox style of Devin Zebrak throws him off. Instead of running right back towards Luke, Zebrak holds his arms out and spins like he’s a helicopter. Awkwardly, Luke tries to sidestep the man but instead catches a spinning fist to the side of the head. The impact causes Luke to stumble. Coming to a halt, Zebrak crouches down and waits for Luke to recover before pouncing, literally leaping into the air like a cat, tackling Luke down to the mat, planting both feet into his chest as he does so.

Standing over Luke, Zebrak wiggles his crotch in his general direction before patting his elbow and dropping it down across Luke’s chest. On impact Luke flails around the ring like he got hit by the hardest elbow drop the world had ever witnessed. It probably wasn’t that hard but it’s clear Luke isn’t a fan of the pain he’s being subjected to. Unfortunately for him, Devin Zebrak seems perfectly happy to keep inflicting it on him, dancing a bit oddly, throwing his arms around and thrusting his feet here and there before dropping another elbow drop to Luke chest. A quick cover is kicked out of before the referee can even get a one count in, but is followed up by an exaggerated body splash from Devin Zebrak that is followed up with a second pinning attempt. This time the referee at least manages to get down onto his knees but Luke kicks out again before the ref’s hand can hit the mat a single time. Standing up, Zebrak plants rapid kicks to the sides of Luke Jones, who rolls over onto his back to try and get away from the assault. The result is that Zebrak steps up onto his back and runs in place.

VASSA: ”Haha! This kid is retarded but he’s putting on a hell of a show.”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t use the R word, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Oh that’s right… you have a grandkid or something that’s retarded don’t you.”

JOHNSON: ”I SAID DON’T USE THE R WORD!”

VASSA: ”Oh god you’re not going to use Tate Troy Retard Strength on me like I’m Bryan Williams are you?”

JOHNSON: ”I hope they forget to put ranch in with your pizza tonight.”

VASSA: ”WHY WOULD YOU WISH THAT EVIL ON ME YOU FUCK?!”

A shriek is heard from the commentators table as Steve Johnson purposefully swatted Vinny Vassa’s drink, knocking it over and spilling its contents everywhere. In the ring, Zebrak pulls Luke up to his feet and whips him into the ropes so hard that he flips over the top and goes spilling out down onto the floor outside the ring. Moving to the corner, Zebrak ascends to the top rope and waits for Luke to start to get up before leaping off. As he falls down toward his opponent, Luke has a moment of clarity just at the right time, straightening up and catching Devin with a stiff right hand that cracks him right underneath the jaw before he could drop the attempted double axe handle down onto Jones. Rage flashes in Luke’s eyes as he stares down at Devin writhing in pain on the floor.

Flipping the ring apron up, Luke pulls a steel chair out similar to the one that had been used in the previous match by Alioth Starre on Dakota Smith. Although this one shows no signs of the wear and tear that the previous one had gone through. Raising the chair high above his head, Luke brings it down rapidly but Devin manages to roll out of the way and Luke makes contact only with the thin mat covering the concrete floor. Pushing himself back up to his feet, Devin meets Luke with a boot to the stomach before turning and rolling him back into the ring. As Luke stands he “accidentally” backs into the referee, knocking him down. Turning around, he bends down to help the referee back up. After checking on the man, Jones turns back to see Zebrak charging and swinging to take his head off. Ducking under, Zebrak misses Luke Jones wildly but connects squarely with the referee, flattening the official.

In shock, Zebrak stares at the fallen referee for a few moments before his eyes suddenly go crossed and his knees slam shut around the arm of Luke Jones. As Devin drops to his knees, Luke pulls his arm free with a smirk on his face, knowing he had just gotten away with the perfect low blow. Quickly, Luke grabs Devin and lifts him up, connecting with an atomic drop and then crushes him with a lariat. PLUS ULTRA! Zebrak is flat on his back. Looking around the ring for the referee, Luke dives over to the ref and slaps him on the face, helping to rouse him from his daze. He points imploringly over to the fallen Zebrak and then covers him. Half out of it, the referee slowly drags himself over as Luke curses at him. Excruciatingly long seconds later the referee finally raises his arm into the air and drops it down to the mat the first time.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

As soon as the bell sounds, Luke rolls out of the ring in search of the steel chair he had lost moments earlier. Retrieving it, he slides back into the ring just as Zebrak was starting to push himself back up to his feet. The referee, having barely recovered and gotten up to his feet as well, tries to put himself in between Luke and Zebrak but eats a chair shot from Jones who seems to have completely snapped. Charging across the ring, he swings the chair like a baseball bat, aiming it at Zebrak’s head like it was a ball set up on a tee. Devin, however, at the absolute last second manages to drop down and roll himself out of the ring. As he moves to head up the entrance ramp he stares into the ring with an incredulous look on his face, the words “what the fuck, Luke” clear even though the camera’s don’t pick up the sound. Eventually, Luke raises his arms in the air as the victor while Mike Powers announces the win.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, LUKE JJOONNEESS!!!”

JOHNSON: ”What an unfortunate end to a hell of an effort by Devin Zebrak. Luke Jones truly snatched victory from the jaws of defeat by the most nefarious of means tonight.”

VASSA: ”Look I don’t care about beating up on retards but it’s not Luke’s fault the derby fucker hit the referee. Be more careful next time and maybe you’ll win.”

JOHNSON: ”You’ll have to excuse us, folks. We’re going to head backstage and its entirely possible when we come back to ringside that Vinny will be nursing mortal wounds.”

We cut to the backstage area, where once again (presumably) we see Gabriel Hartman out and about as he’s looking for his next interview. The man gets paid by the interview, so it’s no wonder we see him in back to back segments sometimes. He doesn’t need to look very far, as it seems he’s already got one set up. He looks into the camera, as he walks towards his marker.

HARTMAN: ”Folks, it’s a grand night. We’re here to celebrate, and to honor those that fought for us. I’m talking about Team Adrenaline, the ones who battled bravely against the tyranny of Team Octane. Those scoundrels, they came in here thinking they could take over. Well you couldn’t! You can’t take our freedoms, and you can’t take Adrenaline away from us!”

Gabriel appears to be ranting, as he walks up next to Bryan Williams. Bryan, standing there as if he’s just arrived, is in mid drink of his coffee. He looks confused, unaware of why Gabriel Hartman is there, and why he has a camera with him.

Obviously this interview wasn’t set up beforehand.

HARTMAN: ”I’m here with one of the many warriors that night, one that gave everything he had so Adrenaline could be victorious. He gave up the ultimate sacrifice, and for that I say …thank you.”

WILLIAMS: ”Uhh, what is this?”

Gabriel laughs, putting his arm around Bryan in a manner of good nature. Bryan visible grimaces as he does.

HARTMAN: ”Bryan, my pal. My compadre. It’s time for an interview! Surely you have a lot to say, things that need to be removed from your chest! Don’t you want to talk about Fright Night?”

Bryan shakes his head, sipping his coffee some more.

WILLIAMS: ”No, not really.”

Gabriel, looking surprised, is taken back for a moment.

HARTMAN: ”Oh, I see. Well what about the spoils your team got for winning? Do you want to talk about that? I bet you have some really good plans that you’d like to share with everyone? What are you gonna do with the money, gonna blow it all in one place?”

Bryan shakes his head again.

WILLIAMS: ”Probably going to just save most of it.”

HARTMAN: ”…Interesting. What about that match contract you won? A match with anyone, at any time! You’ve got it for a whole year, think you’ll be able to wait that long?”

Bryan thinks for a moment, and then shrugs.

WILLIAMS: ”Probably?”

Gabriel, looking visibly annoyed, removes his arm from around Bryan. He takes a step back, doing his best to control himself.

HARTMAN: ”Look, I really need you to help me out here, Bryan. You’re not giving me much to work with here.”

WILLIAMS: ”Oh, yeah, cool man.”

This basically causes Gabriel to lose it, as he shrieks at the top of his lungs. He lunges for Bryan, but is quickly pulled away by several staff members in the area. Bryan stands there, drinking away at his coffee. Gabriel thrashes about, as we see Bryan Williams appear behind him?

WILLIAMS: ”Gabe, what are you yelling about?”

Bryan looks at the commotion in front of him, and quickly realizes. It’s his stunt double, who he thinks looks nothing like him. The stunt double stands there, clueless and without a care in the world. Gabriel, however, looks like he’s seen a ghost. He’s visibly shaken, and upset. Bryan keeps his attention on the double.

WILLIAMS: ”What are you doing here, man? I don’t need you! You’ve been fired for months, have you just been hanging around here this whole time?”

The stunt double nods, as Bryan sighs.

HARTMAN: ”Bryan! Look, we can finally do this interview now!”

Bryan dismisses it, waving Gabriel off as he starts to rub his temples.

WILLIAMS: ”Not now, Gabe. I have a headache, and a match to get ready for tonight. Maybe another time.”

With that, Bryan leaves the scene. Leaving Gabriel to ponder his life choices, as he looks on at the stunt double.

Luke Jones is still in the ring after the match, a fire in his eyes. He jerks his hand away from the referee and motions for a microphone.

JONES: ”Cut the music! Cut the damn music!”

HIs entrance music is cut off as the fans fill the arena with boos and jeers.

JONES: ”What you have all witnessed, is the beginning of something special. The start of a revolution here in 4CW, whether you like it or not.”

The fans boo louder and Luke stops to look around at them all, he cuts them off.

JONES: ”You see I realized something a few weeks ago, when I joined 4CW a few years ago I thought being funny would get me the attention I wanted. I thought it would get the fans behind me and that my wrestling talent would push me to the top. I had it all figured out, I just didn’t bet on becoming the joke that was so funny. I put myself through so much just to make you all smile and have a good time, and where did that get me? Huh? It didn’t get me shit, it put me at the bottom of the barrel with no way in sight to escape. Sure you enjoyed laughing, at me, but that wasn’t enough for you was it? You wanted more from me, you wanted me to go even lower, and lower. Until I completely lost sight of who I was as a competitor and a person, I gave up my values for you people. Where were you when I needed you most?”

The crowd continues to boo and jeer. Luke’s face fills with anger as he circles the ring looking out at all of the fans.

JONES: ”SHUT UP! SHUT UP! This isn’t about you people, this is about me. You pay to watch me talk and work my trade in this ring, not to interject with your opinions. I don’t care that you don’t like me, I don’t care that you hate me. I want you to hate me, I want you to vilify me. That’s what I realized after all this time, you do need someone to love in this business, someone to make you smile and to fill your chest with warmth whenever you see them. But you also need someone to hate, someone to steal that happiness from you at a moments notice. It took me to long to come to that conclusion, I will never be someone that the fans can love, so why bother? Why give everything I have for you all if I get nothing in return for it?”

He pauses for a moment as the crowd dies down a little.

JONES: ”I’ve busted my ass for this company, for the wrestling business as a whole for over half of my life, and I haven’t got a damn thing to show for it. I have no accolades, I have no honor in any wrestling promotion anywhere on the face of the earth. I have no fanbase, I have no championships, I have no friends in the wrestling business. I’m so tired of it, I’m so tired of being overlooked. I’m tired of everyone looking at me as if I’m still a joke, like I’m someone you shouldn’t take seriously. Did you just see what I did to Devin Zebrak? If you can look at that match by itself and tell me that you still don’t take me seriously, I don’t know what’s going to change your mind. But for the continued naysayers, you will soon realize that I am not the same man I was a few months ago, or even a few years ago. I am changed, I have changed who I am. I am reshaping the brand around my name, you won’t remember the old Luke.”

A few fans in the arena cheer and catch Luke’s attention, he stops and walks over to the ropes before propping himself up.

JONES: ”You liked the old Luke huh? You still want to see the “Fuckboy” Luke do you?”

The entire arena fills with cheers and chants of “Let’s go Fuckboy”. Luke looks around the arena with an emotionless face.

JONES: ”Too bad.”

The fans return to the boos and jeers as Luke smirks.

JONES: ”I’ll never let myself become a joke again, I’ll never let you people decide my fate. No one in this company has any control over me. I am the only one who decides where I go, what I do and how I do it. Perry Wallace, I know you’re sitting back there right now probably blowing some dust off a dumb bitch’s ass, but I want you to pay attention to this. I am not a man to fuck around with, you think you can book me against these low name wanna be wrestlers and break my spirit? You think keeping me off the pay per view cards and booking me on the pre shows will stop me? You have no idea what you have done to me you old fuck, all you have done is bring out the beast inside me. All you have done is lit the coals that rest at my feet and sooner than later you will regret that. I am coming for your entire roster, I don’t care if it’s Dick, or Bronx or Ana or Dakota or Jett. You can put me against Jair, Madison, Morta, ANYBODY! I will bring them down with everything in me, and as I stand a top of the mountain of bodies you send at me, I will look you in the eyes and laugh with the blood of the entire 4CW roster on my hands.”

The arena falls silent for a few seconds.

JONES: ”Now, allow me to reintroduce myself. MY NAME IS LUKE JONES. I AM THE ANNIHILATOR, AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT? I could honestly care less.”

Luke drops the mic and rolls out of the ring turning his back to the fans as they boo him loudly.

Heading backstage we watch as Team Wilder enters the building; first Jett Wilder who doesn’t even bother to hold the door open. As behind him comes Luiz who is pushing along Carmella Wilder who is bandaged up heavily. Still trying to look her best wearing a dress but looking disheveled nonetheless.

C. WILDER: ”Genie better hope I don’t come across her… Might just cash in on my rematch tonight.”

Luiz shakes his head knowing how bad an idea it is, Jett seeming way too focused to even care right now.

J. WILDER: “Don’t do that…”

C. WILDER: ”I mean…I’ll wait. I may just look for someone willing to take my shot and take her out for good… She is so smug.”

Not really even paying attention clearly, Jett just looks on. Wanting to go get ready and also wanting to come face to face with Bronx and his Boss.

J. WILDER: “I am going to go get ready. It’s my night.”

Focused he storms off as Carmella yells out to him.

C. WILDER: ”You’ll do great Jett!”

As she slowly turns back to Luiz.

C. WILDER: ”Roll me to a few locker room’s… I need to find someone willing to take out Genie…”

Rolling her off as well both having very different agenda’s tonight as Jett heads towards a giant match later in the night.

UNDERCARD
BOSTON VS. JOHNNY EVIL

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

The sound of a gun cocking before unloading a bullet from the chamber projects throughout the arena, as “Made You Look” by Nas begins playing over the PA system to a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. From the gorilla position, Boston emerges, holding a towel wrapped around his neck. With fire in his eyes, he looks out amongst the audience, as he begins walking toward the top of the ramp. Once he has reached the peak of his mode of conveyance toward the ring, Boston simply stops and smirks, while typically scratching his head. With a slow saunter, Boston makes his way to the ring.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, from Dewey Beach, Delaware… BBOOSSTTOONN!!!”

Once at ringside, Boston jumps upon the ring apron with a single leap, before catapulting himself over the top rope, landing on the mat with a bounce toward whichever corner he had been designated. Tossing the towel to the side, he nonchalantly waits in his corner for the start of the match.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The lights dim in the arena as the intro to “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 boos in a rage.

“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, mocking the audience before taking a few steps down the ramp.

“I don’t want your opinion, I don’t need your ideas

Stay the fuck out of my face, stay away from me

I am my own God, I do as I please…”

“Just wipe your own ass and shut your mouth”

Johnny Evil stops halfway down the entrance ramp and walks over toward the barricade, beginning to trash talk an audience member. After a moment of trash talk, Evil laughs hysterically before continuing to walk down the rest of the ramp and slide into the ring.

POWERS: ”From Detroit Michigan, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds… ‘The American Horror Story’, JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”

Johnny stands to his feet and paces around as the audience boos louder, before leaning against the ropes and relaxing in the corner before the bout.

VASSA: ”Hey, at least Johnny decided to come to the ring tonight dressed like an actual man.”

JOHNSON: ”Here come the jokes…”

VASSA: ”What jokes?! Tell me. When is it appropriate for a man to dress up like a woman… wearing a fucking dress?!”

JOHNSON: ”It isn’t and it’s down right disgusting.”

VASSA: ”Exactly! I almost picked up a prosti– a nice person who I thought was a lady that ended up being a man.”

JOHNSON: ”Wow, just wow.”

VASSA: ”Tell me about it.”

JOHNSON: ”Making his official in ring return to 4CW, we have the man known as Boston ladies and gentlemen.”

VASSA: ”It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen this man inside of a 4CW ring. I believe the last time for Adrenaline was against Bronx.”

JOHNSON: ”The landscape has changed drastically since then. At the time, Bronx was just getting his feet wet in 4CW and now he’s a two time 4CW Champion.”

VASSA: ”It’s changed a lot, no doubt about that. Let’s see if Boston has changed as well.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell sounds as both men shoot from their corners and go straight for one another. Locking up in the center of the ring, Boston quickly overpowers Evil, driving him backwards into the corner. Releasing his hold, he holds both hands up as he takes a step back. Out of nowhere, Evil lunges forward and connects with a striking elbow to the side of the head, knocking Boston back a few steps.

Leaping forward, Evil locks onto Boston’s head with both hands, dropping him backwards and slamming his head against the canvas on the way down. Over and over, Evil slams Boston’s head into the mat before popping back to his feet and going berserk with rapid kicks to the ribs. Jumping straight up, he comes down with a double foot stomp but misses as Boston rolls out of the way. Swinging his body around, Boston sweeps Evil’s legs out from under him, dropping him to his back.

The two race to their feet, both standing at the same time. Locking up a second time, Evil makes the first move, pulling Boston in as he lifts his knee up, planting it in Boston’s stomach. He then hits Boston in the jaw with a European uppercut, tilting his head back and forcing him to look up at the lights. Grabbing Boston by the back of the head, Evil then pulls him to the corner before smashing his face down onto the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: ”Wake up call!”

VASSA: ”For Boston, maybe.”

Pulling Boston away from the corner, Evil then pulls his head down and pulls it between his legs. Wrapping Boston up around the waist, Evil attempts to go for a piledriver but instead, Boston begins to stand straight up, lifting Evil up and over his head. Evil crashes back first to the mat as Boston quickly drops down and hits him with an elbow drop across the forehead. Boston kip-ups yo his feet before stepping over Evil and running to the ropes. Leaping forward, he plants both feet on the middle rope and springboards off. Turning in mid-air, Boston lands a leg drop across Evil’s head.

Rolling over, Boston clutches Evil’s head and begins slamming multiple knees into his head and collarbone. On his feet, he pulls Evil up before whipping him to the corner with all of his strength. Evil’s back slams against the corner and be instantly drops down to a seated position. Taking off from his position, Boston charges across the ring before flipping forward and crashing into Evil with a cannonball.

VASSA: ”I love it when folks throw their bodies and use them as weapon in flight.”

JOHNSON: ”Being down on his ass, Evil had nowhere to go. All he could do is close his eyes and hope for the best as Boston came rolling in.”

Pulling Evil up from the corner, Boston gets his bell rung as Evil erupts up, slamming the top of his head underneath Boston’s chin. Boston stumbles back in a daze as Evil rushes him, taking his head off with a running superkick and dropping him to his back. Running to the rope to his right, Evil comes back and leaps up, dropping down across Boston with the running senton. He bounces off of Boston and back to his feet as Boston rolls over to his side and pushes himself up to one knee.

Turning to look at Boston, Evil then charges him, hitting him directly in the chest with a basement dropkick. Boston falls backwards to the mat and Evil quickly makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Boston breaks up the officials count. Evil then begins yelling to himself, carrying on a conversation with himself as he stands to his feet. Rubbing his head, he calms himself down before his other hand grabs his own chin, turning his head to look back at Boston.

VASSA: ”What the fu–“

JOHNSON: ”FUDGE!!!”

Evil pulls Boston up to his feet before walking him to the corner and throwing him into it. Kicking him in the stomach multiple times, Evil then lifts him up and places him on top of the corner. Climbing to the top, he hooks an arm over Boston’s head and then lifts him straight into the air for a brainbuster.

JOHNSON: ”Here comes The Lobotomy.”

VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

Slipping out of Evil’s hold, Boston drops down to his feet and lands on the mat behind Evil. He quickly turns around and hits Evil in the back with back to back forearm shots, forcing Evil to drop completely down to a seated position looking out over the crowd. Positioning himself behind Evil, Boston lifts him up underneath the arms into the air in a crucifix. Taking a few steps away from the corner, he then throws Evil down to the mat with a crucifix powerbomb!

VASSA: ”WOW… A POWERBO–“

JOHNSON: ”DO NOT!!!”

Boston then backs up to the corner before pulling himself up it backwards. Looking over the entire ring, he positions himself perfectly before leaping off and flipping forward in mid-air, coming down onto Evil’s chest with a four-fifty splash modified into a knee drop!

VASSA: ”I’m fucking dizzy!”

JOHNSON: ”Imagine how Evil feels after Boston hit him with the G.N.O.”

VASSA: ”I need some opiates!”

Covering Johnny for the pin, Boston hooks his leg as the official races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

“Made You Look” hits the speakers as Boston rises to his feet with a cocky smirk across his face. Stepping in beside him, the official raises his arm into the air as the final bell sounds.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, BBOOSSTTOONN!!!”

After Boston’s definitive dismantling of Johnny Evil, the scene switches backstage to the hall outside one of the locker room areas. 8 x 10 posters are plastered all across the walls of the arena with a picture of the comatose Sarah Lacklan, offering a $25000 reward to anyone with information on how to pull the plug on her. The paper affixed to the nearest door indicates the locker room is that of Aidan Carlisle.

Twitchy as ever, the shift-eyed Gabriel Hartman slinks into frame and knocks erratically on the door until it opens. Rather than Aidan, it’s the over-sized Liam O’Shea that fills the door frame, blocking the view into the locker room almost entirely. He casts a glare over the backstage reporter, silent until it grows uncomfortable.

O’SHEA: “What do you want, Hartman?”

HARTMAN: “Words, with Miss Carlisle.”

Gabriel holds up a badly wrinkled notepad and blunt pencil that he is almost certainly not going to use, but carries around with him anyway. He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to peer around Liam through the tiny gap in the doorway.

O’SHEA: “She’s busy.”

A snicker sounds from within the locker room behind him.

CARLISLE: “You can let him in.”

Liam glances over his shoulder, finally shrugging and stepping back. Hartman squeezes into the room, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose several times. Aidan is sitting on the bench in front of the lockers, dressed in her white set of ring gear except for the boots and jacket which are still sitting beside her.

More reward flyers are stuck on the front of various lockers, along with others bearing a variety of slogans like #1and6ForSarah and #LosingForLacklan. Hartman regards them curiously for a moment. Aidan just shrugs.

CARLISLE: “They were up when I got here. I think there’s a merch catalog with Hit Girls doormats and mop heads around somewhere too.”

Gabriel shakes himself out, remembering why he had arrived in the first place.

HARTMAN: “So, Miss Carlisle…”

O’SHEA: “Missus.”

The big Irishman cuts in gruffly from where he stands in front of Aidan, helping her wrap her hands before her match. Hartman blinks, looking between Liam and Aidan. Clearly the synapses aren’t all firing.

HARTMAN: “…Missus… O’Shea?”

CARLISLE: “It’s just Aidan. What do you want, Hartman?”

HARTMAN: “Right. Missus Aidan, it’s your first singles match since returning to 4CW.”

CARLISLE: “I’m aware of that, yes.”

HARTMAN: “What brought you back, after more than a year and a half away?”

CARLISLE: “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it, Gabe? That thing inquiring minds want to know, the mystery in need of solving. Why return, and why now? Is money? Was there a particular mouth in need of shutting? Is it to prove a point?”

Hartman nods along furiously with each question, looking like a stick figure bobblehead. By the time he’s done he has to push his glasses back up his face again.

CARLISLE: “The thing is, Gabe… It doesn’t make any difference why I came back. All that matters is I did, and Fright Night just happened to be the platform. I didn’t need to choose a target, I didn’t need to put the locker room on notice. I’m here, and I’m going to do what I’ve always done; let my actions speak for me, starting with Alexis Mercer.”

Hartman coughs and holds up a finger like his inner lightbulb went off as he interjects.

HARTMAN: “Yes, Mercer. Nee Morrison. The Anti-Starlet.”

CARLISLE: “Never has there been a more fitting nickname. She has literally repelled winning, progress, and anything resembling fame since she arrived. She might as well add ‘Anti-Talent’ to her list of nicknames.”

HARTMAN: “You don’t seem to be fond of Miss Mercer.”

Aidan rolls her eyes.

CARLISLE: “What was your first clue?”

HARTMAN: “Well, when I looked over your promotional footage, you said—”

O’SHEA: “Time’s up, Hartman.”

Liam cuts in before Gabriel can go into his long-winded answer, beginning to muscle the scrawny interviewer toward the door.

CARLISLE: “All you or anyone else needs to know, Gabe, is that people like her have been casting their bullshit ‘greatness’ stones long enough. I’m here to shatter their glass houses, preferably with their faces. Alexis Mercer’s end is just the beginning.”

Almost oblivious to the fact he’s being ushered out, Hartman continues to try to ask questions around the roadblock of Liam O’Shea. Aidan ignores him and begins to lace up her boots without sparing another glance in his direction. The interviewer is still trying to shout to be heard when the door closes in his face.

UNDERCARD
KRIS VS. CYRUS RIDDLE

JOHNSON: ”We got another match for you folks. Should be a good one.”

VASSA: ”Cyrus Riddle has certainly been changing people’s expectations of him lately, hasn’t he?”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed he has, he seems to be motivated by the last few outings here in 4CW. He has a purpose now, and I think that might spell trouble for Kris.”

VASSA: ”Well, look, Kris isn’t some random goober off of the street. He’s here in 4CW for a reason, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think he’s got a chance here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”It took Bryan Williams diving off of a cage to stop Cyrus Riddle at Fright Night.”

VASSA: ”I don’t want to hear it, Steve. I’ve made my choice.”

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.

JOHNSON: ”Kris looks ready tonight. I still think Cyrus is going to be trouble for him. Not too late to change teams, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”I’m good, Team Kris all the way.”

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

“Welcome to the truth

God made me in his image

Who the fuck made you?

You want my voice from me?

You can have it, just know

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

From behind the curtain, Cyrus Riddle emerges. With a black bandana wrapped around his face and a Kylla custom hooded leather vest decorated in blood splatter with two switchblades going through his initials designed on the back, he stands firm and examines the crowd with all to be seen on his face being his gaze. He holds up two fingers to the crowd with his arms outstretched before making his walk to the ring.

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

Cyrus approaches the ring with a confidence in his steps, accompanied only by the subtle hints of methodical approach as if to be zeroed in on a victim.

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

Cyrus’ ascends the middle outside turnbuckle as the chorus begins to play, pulling the bandana from his face and throwing the hood backward only to mouth the next part in imitation of the lyrics.

“I’m the Messiah, the gnashing of teeth

No one meets death until they see me!

I am the Alphaaaaa! And the Omegaaaaa!”

His trademark smirk followed by a tongue glide along his bottom lip can be seen as he looks around the arena and jumps down to climb between the top and middle ropes. In the middle of the ring, he removes his vest slowly to reveal his heavily tattooed body and physique, not without that always evident bit of arrogance. He tosses the jacket over to the ring attendant and stands in the corner calmly, awaiting.

JOHNSON: ”Alright, here we go!”

VASSA: ”Let’s go Kris!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell rings, as Cyrus Riddle is immediately out of the corner. He sprints towards Kris, taking him by surprise. Cyrus levels him with a lariat, knocking him down to the mat. He’s like an unchained animal, as Kris crawls into the nearby corner. Cyrus unloads on him, stomps to his body as Kris tries to get back up. Cyrus presses the bottom of his boot into Kris’ throat, choking the life from him as Logan Whitby tries to break it up. He calls for Cyrus to back up, threatening to start a count. Cyrus finally breaks the hold, as Kris gasps for air.

Kris stumbles out of the corner, and the situation doesn’t seem to get any better for him. Cyrus has already prepared himself. Standing behind his opponent, he’s in perfect position to attack him with the Daydreamer! The lariat connects, Kris’ neck whiplashing from the intensity of the attack. He hits the mat hard, the crowd beginning to boo the absolute ruthlessness of Cyrus Riddle here tonight. He doesn’t look concerned, only wanting to inflict more damage to his opponent.

Cyrus grabs his opponent, who already looks out of it. Kris is hurt, and Cyrus knows this. Turning his opponent to the hard camera, Cyrus bring his thumb across Kris’ throat. A symbol of what he’s planning to do next. It’s quick, but Cyrus quickly locks in the Silent Night. The choke hold targeting the already damaged neck of Kris. It doesn’t take long, as Kris quickly taps out. The crowd sits there, stunned at what they’ve just witnessed here tonight.

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

POWERS: ”Your winner, by way of submission, CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

“Alpha and Omega” begins to play, as Cyrus Riddle has his hand raised in victory. He stands there, defiantly, as Kris holds his neck in pain. There is a swarm of staff that comes out from the back, attending to Kris. Cyrus stands there, smiling, as the crowd boos him. His actions tonight telling them everything they needed to know.

JOHNSON: ”What just happened?”

VASSA: ”Oh no.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny, we’ve just witnessed a brutal beatdown here tonight. Cyrus Riddle absolutely destroyed Kris, I think most of the fans here are stunned. What a dominating performance by Cyrus Riddle. I guess that Team Kris stuff didn’t work out, eh?”

VASSA: ”Shut your mouth, Steve.”

After the ending of Kris facing off against Cyrus Riddle has passed, the camera transitions over to the backstage area of the arena. In the narrow hallways nearly blocked off by equipment crates, tables surrounded by designers and other staff, Andre Holmes walks down the passage tapping his XL MMA Gloves together and obviously the audience are happy to see his face. His head shadowed over by his leather hoodie revealing only his face as he looks prepared for his upcoming match.

JOHNSON: ”There he is ladies and gentlemen, Andre Holmes, who is ready for his upcoming match against Bryan Williams. After coming up short in the gauntlet match, he’s looking to redeem himself and also stop the current momentum of the former two-time pride champion.”

VASSA: ”Yeah. Let me know when pigs fly and then I’ll believe that statement you old mother-“

Out of nowhere, Andre gets struck from behind where the camera moves to the side capturing him fall down on his chest. Entering into the camera’s full view is Alexis Mercer who is delivering hard stomps down on top of his back. Kicked over and over; Andre tries to get up until he eats a harsh blow into his right temple temporarily keeping him down.

JOHNSON: ”That’s Alexis Mercer! What the hell does she thinks she’s doing?!”

VASSA: ”Obviously correcting a wrong. We all know Andre Holmes’ victory over Alexis was a fluke!”

Alexis slowly walks off until she stops her in her steps; Peeking over her right shoulder to see Holmes still trying to get up, it pisses her off even more. She marches back towards him, grabs him by the back of his neck, has her other hand on the edge of his wrestling tights before picking him up. Andre’s back transforms into a battering ram as his body has been thrown against the nearest equipment crate causing him to flip over it and land on the concrete floor spine first!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

VASSA: ”Holy shit! That was fuckin’ epic!”

Alexis stands over the fallen Andre who is in agony. Lying down on his right side and suffering from the harsh collision into the equipment crate, a group of referees and medical staff burst onto the scene directing their attention to him. She lets her hair down; An emotionless glare into his body before she walks away for good.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, let’s cut over to ringside but hopefully Andre Holmes will be alright and able to compete tonight still!”

The cameras cut back to ringside where Perry Wallace is pictured, standing in the center of the ring. His personal security consultant, Oswald Pinkman, stands beside him, holding a black bag with his arms in front of him. With a mic in hand, Perry slowly paces the ring, looking out over the Kentucky crowd as he holds the microphone to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Good evening Louisville!”

He shouts into the microphone, stirring the crowd up slightly, but not nearly as much as he anticipated.

WALLACE: ”The fuck? I SAID GOOD EVENING LOUISVILLE!!!”

The noise level rises, slightly higher than his first attempt. Stopping in his tracks, Perry shrugs his shoulders before continuing.

WALLACE: ”Fright Night is behind us as we’ve all witnessed the entire landscape in 4CW change overnight. New champions were born, old faces left as new faces entered shortly after to fill that void. Overall, Fright Night was huge for 4CW, as it always is. Some would even argue that it is 4CWs biggest event of the year.”

He walks from one side of the ring to the other, keeping his eyes locked on the silent crowd.

WALLACE: ”Team Adrenaline walked away from the WarGames match victorious, proving Adrenaline to be the dominant brand over Octane. So folks would say that match was a little premature, but damnit if it wasn’t a joy watching!”

Holding up his hand, he extends a single finger.

WALLACE: ”Bryan Laughlin defeated Seth Daniels, becoming the new face of Octane! A hope for better things to come after the huge disappointment of the champion before him.”

He extends a second finger.

WALLACE: ”American Tommy walked away with the defunct Fate Championship in a match that featured the likes of Ander Holmes, Caroline Burchill, Alexis Mercer, and champion at the time, Anastasia Hayden. As you all saw on Octane just last week, the Fate Championship is no more as American Tommy is now Octane’s Ignition Champion!”

Walking to the adjacent ropes with his hand still raised, Perry then extends a third finger.

WALLACE: ”We all watched closely as the rematch between The Hostile Takeover and the 4CW Tag Team Champions, World Dollar Sign Tar, went down. After coming up short in the finale at Bad Company, The Hostile Takeover seized the moment and made damn sure to not come up short a second time, as they are now our champions.”

Extending a fourth finger, Perry looks down to his hand for a short moment before looking back up to the crowd.

WALLACE: ”Then there was the Pride Championship match where Kimitsu Zombie defeated the champion, Amber Ryan in a submission match!”

Finally, Perry extends his thumb, now holding up all five fingers of his hand.

WALLACE: ”My son, my pride and joy, Bronx defeated Mariano to become a two time 4CW Champion. Persephone Marquis climbed the ladder on top of the Warzone to grab that contract hanging high above it all, to establish herself as the number one contender as we now head into Winter Wasteland.”

With one more championship to be addressed, Perry looks down at his hand once more. After a short delay, he motions his head for Oswald to approach him. Handing the microphone to Oswald, Perry then holds up his other hand and extends the index finger, now holding up six fingers in all.

WALLACE: ”And as Persephone earned her spot in a 4CW Championship match to come, another champion was born as Genie Carlson walked away a little heavier than she did entering. And no, I’m not calling her fat or anything. She walked away with the weight of the Extreme Championship on her shoulder and for that, I’m proud. Very proud in fact! This brings me to the whole point of being out here tonight. I’d like to congratulate her and present her with a gift. Genie, if you’re listening in the back, can you please come out here?”

A few moments of silence fill the air as Perry stands in the ring waiting for Genie to come out. Just when you think she might not come out. “Killing you Hoes” by Trina begins to play throughout the arena and Genie makes her way from backstage, The Extreme Championship draped over her shoulder as she grins and walks down the ramp and climbs the stairs to the ring, entering between the ropes and looking unsure at Perry as she walks past him and grabs a microphone, her music fading out as she placed herself in front of Perry and put the mic up to her lips.

CARLSON: ”It’s about time you acknowledge how amazing I am for this company. It’s about time that you notice me for the amazing talent I am. I earned this Extreme Championship fighting against some of the most brutal individuals that have ever walked into this place so whatever present you have for me?! I more than earned it. About time you give me a gift for all I’ve done for you and 4CW. So let’s see it.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Perry looks to Genie, somewhat disappointed.

WALLACE: ”Well, good evening to you as well.”

Shaking his head, he walks by her, headed for the ropes.

WALLACE: ”Some manners wouldn’t hurt, would they? Just because you’re Extreme Champion doesn’t mean you have to be rude.”

Genie rolled her eyes and shifted her title on her shoulder in annoyance as she clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes toward the direction of Perry.

CARLSON: “You want to talk to me about being rude? Your one dead baby joke away from being a picture on the side of a milk carton, but that ain’t why we are out here. We don’t have to be besties. You got something for me or not? Please don’t waste my time. I’d prefer not to hate you completely

With a double blink of the eyes, he looks back to Genie, surprised by the attitude.

WALLACE: ”Listen here sweetie, I haven’t made a joke like that in a while. I’m a changed man with a bright future ahead. So I’m going to need you to turn down that attitude towards me and listen up. I called you out here for a reason and believe it or not, this new attitude of yours might just be the perfect fit. So let me ask you. Being a champion now, how do you feel?”

Genie sighed and looked from her belt to Wallace and shook her head.

CARLSON: “To be honest? I’m happy but at the same time I have one of the most cursed belts in this company. I mean the Fate Championship isn’t around anymore to hold any talents back anymore, but yet you still have this Extreme Championship that has ruined everyone that has held it.”

She removes the belt from her shoulder and holds it up for the crowd to see before laying it on the ground and pointing at it in front of Wallace.

CARLSON: “No really. Every single person who’s held this title since you handed it to Sativa and made her feel more relevant than she will feel again in her life has been on a downward spiral ever since. Dakota, Evil, Viduus, even Carmella is milking injuries for all their worth and will never be the same in a 4CW ring again. Look at the one who started this Sativa went from a ruthless bitch giving this belt as many diseases as possible rubbing her victims blood on the plate has turned into a desperate twitter lesbian and I swear to god Papi call me sweetie again and I’m gonna get more triggered than a Cool Kid when you mention blurred lines.”

Genie smirks a bit at her last line before shaking her head.

CARLSON: “So on one hand I’m proud to hold another title here in 4CW but on the other I can’t help but wonder if I’ve cursed myself to mediocrity from this point on. Only I can do that to myself though. So I’m gonna bring this title back from the dead if I have to and not become another statistic of trash.”

Nodding as he listens to Genie, Perry takes a moment to think it all over before responding.

WALLACE: ”That’s actually why I wanted to talk with you here tonight, in this ring, in front of everyone. I don’t say this very often, but you’re right, except for the part about Carm. As of tonight, that championship is dead. We had a nice little run with it but truth be told, the truly extreme division isn’t that deep with competition. No offense to you or those who will partake in an extreme match. I’m just saying that it could use a few more bodies, and a lot more excitement.”

Extending his arm, Perry holds his hand Palm up before motioning his fingers back and forth.

WALLACE: ”I’m going to be needing that, Genie.”

Genie hesitated and frowned, before reluctantly handing the title over to Perry and nodding her head.

CARLSON: “See Daddy. I knew you loved me after all. Took me winning the title to realize the Extreme Championship wasn’t good enough for me. I can only assume that my present is a brand new Championship belt better suited for me to create a bright and sparkling new legacy for. So come on let’s see it. Everyone at this point knows I love presents.”

His eyes look up, shifting from left to right as he buys himself some time.

WALLACE: ”Well, about that. I don’t know if I have something new for you. I just need that belt right there from you to I can put it away and we can move forward with something that shouldn’t have changed in the first place. This isn’t easy for me, Genie, but I’m going to have to strip you of that Extreme Championship you have there.”

Extending his arm once more, he motions his fingers for her to hand it over. Genie’s Face contorts to one of rage as she throws the title in Wallace face.

CARLSON: “How dare you strip me of what I rightfully earned! You better have something better for me. I worked my ass off to come back to this company to win the Extreme Championship and now you’re going to just spit on all my hard work? Why don’t you just pull your pants down and take a shit on the rest of the talent here as well. Fucking strip me. I’m constantly being screwed over every single time I win a championship. So make this fucking quick or I’m leaving this ring because I’m done with my time being wasted.”

Looking down to the Extreme Championship on the mat and then back to Genie, Perry chuckles momentarily as he steps forward and places his arm around shoulders.

WALLACE: ”It’s okay, princess. Sometimes things happen in life that we think aren’t fair and we’re left with no choice but to suck it up and move forward. You will grow from this, I promise. I won’t have you leave empty handed though. You see that right there?”

Placing his finger underneath Genie’s chin, Perry turns her head to face Oswald standing across from them with the black bag in hand.

WALLACE: ”I promise that what’s in that bag will make you feel all better.”

Motioning his hand at Oswald, Perry calls him over.

WALLACE: ”That bag is designer. I’m sure you will like it. Take a look at the quality stitching.”

Genie rolls her eyes and snatched the bag out of Oswald’s hand shouting profanities at the man and shoving him off. She glared from him to Wallace and looked at the bag, before ripping it open and staring inside. Her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas as she looked up at Wallace with a grin on her face.

CARLSON: “Daddy you shouldn’t have!

WALLACE: ”You didn’t think I was just going to take the Extreme Championship and leave you empty handed, did you? Go ahead, take that bad boy out. That right there is something that shouldn’t have messed with earlier in the year. Something that can reignite the division as a whole and you get to be the one to do right by it and kick things off.”

Genie grinned and pulled the belt out from the bag, tossing the black bag to the ground and holding it up. The newly minted XTV Championship.

She places it down and on her shoulder and shakes her head with a grin as her mic gets raised back to her lips and she turns to Wallace.

CARLSON: “I’ll admit you had me worried… but you came through in the end. I’m so happy to bring this championship back into 4CW to make it mean something again. To prove I’ll never be a one and done champion ever again in this company. I’m going to do whatever it takes to be the most unforgettable XTV Champion that 4CW will ever see. I promise I won’t be remembered for the asses I retweeted, or the Asian manager instead of the actual man who held this belt. I don’t need to wipe blood on the plate to prove a point or to dismember to prove I’m the baddest. I’ll do it in the ring. Thank you for the gift. I’m not going to be giving it up ANY time soon.”

Pleased by her response, Perry points to the former Extreme Championship for Oswald to pick up before stepping in beside Genie.

WALLACE: ”Good, because your first defense is in two weeks. But no worries, unlike the gimmicky matches of the belt you won at Fright Night, the XTV isn’t about that. It’s no rules, anything goes. Just like you seem to think social media is!”

CARLSON: “Line them up. I’ll knock them down. There’s so many desperate bitches backstage who just want some gold thinking it’s the only thing that makes you relevant in this company… I don’t mind making any of them relevant for fifteen minutes to realize that when they step into this ring and challenge me for MY title. It’s MY rules and whether I’m on this mic, typing out vicious tweets, or in this ring tossing these dumbasses around I am nothing short of a savage bitch. Like I said. Line ‘em up, because this XTV Championship is going NOWHERE.”

Applauding her, Perry begins to rile the crowd up as well. With Oswald placing the old championship into the black bag, Perry takes one last look at the new XTV Championship.

WALLACE: ”I think it’s time for you Genie-Sex with the extra X’s to put the X into the XTV!”

The joke gets doesn’t go over well as the crowd goes silent. Shaking her head, Genie just looks down to the championship as Perry motions Oswald to hurry up and the scene cuts backstage.

Backstage the 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence as always has found a quiet hallway to get ready for his match. He has a jumping rope in his hand and continues to warm up by jumping it in very quick spurts. There’s a hooded sweatshirt with 4CW on the front on his torso, a pair of athletic shorts on his bottom half. The 4CW Championship doesn’t sit too far away from him, just behind him on an equipment box as he warms up. He stops for a moment and catches his breath and takes a swig from a water bottle.

VALESCENCE: “Every week I get the same questions for my peers. What happens if you lose this week? They never ask what happens when I win. Why? Because I’m always expected to win. I’m always the favorite, and somehow I’ve had to live with this because it hasn’t always been the case. It’s just happened in the last couple of months—and it’s a tough transition to make for someone who was once considered an underdog, but I tell them, just like I’ll tell Jett, just like I’ll tell Marquis, and just like I told Manny.”

A shrug of his shoulders.

VALESCENCE: “Nothing changes. Win or lose, the world keeps turning, and I keep preparing for Marquis. Too many people live and die week to week about results. I beat Chris Madison. I also lost to Manny. Everything goes in a cycle, and water always finds its own level. Winning and losing matters, and losing should have consequences… but 4CW will chew you up and spit you out if you live and die week to week. Somehow, someway you’ve got to look at the bigger picture, and enter Jett Wilder, who can’t see the forest for the trees.”

Bronx flicked the jump rope around in his hands for a moment.

VALESCENCE: “Jett says that with a win over me, he’s going to ruin my title reign. I get it, he isn’t that smart. You don’t have to be smart to win wrestling matches, luckily enough for him. When Jett says that he’s going to blemish my title reign, isn’t he bringing himself down? Isn’t he saying that because I lost to him… I’m not a credible champion anymore? So that means, by Jett Wilder’s own words that he is shitty and that he shouldn’t beat me… I find that hilarious and laughable.”

He crossed his arms.

VALESCENCE: “So I march towards Marquis. I march towards Winter Wasteland, and Jett Wilder is just another obstacle that I have to overcome. I’ve been there. I’ve been the hottest thing in 4CW before, and I was able to sustain that momentum this entire year… the question is…. can Jett? Or will he run out of steam before he even gets to Winter Wasteland—if he wants in the championship match that is. Careers aren’t made in weeks, they’re made in months and years… that’s what I’m looking towards… what are you looking towards, Jett Wilder?”

Bronx began jumping rope again as the camera faded.

UNDERCARD
NO HOLDS BARRED
ALEXIS MERCER VS. AIDAN CARLISLE

JOHNSON: ”Well Vinny, I know you’ve been waiting for this one. It’s the in-ring return of Aidan Carlisle on Adrenaline! Aren’t you excited?!”

VASSA: ”I’m not going to say that Aidan wasn’t a key part of Team Adrenaline beating Team Octane, but don’t say that I’m excited for this.”

JOHNSON: ”Well I can tell you that Alexis Mercer will be looking to spoil this return. Imagine that, Alexis Mercer getting a victory like this tonight?”

VASSA: ”I wouldn’t be so quick to say that either. Let’s just see what happens, okay?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sorry, Vinny. Just a little bit excited myself.”

VASSA: ”I know, buddy. Just throttle it back a little bit. Everything is going to be alright.”

“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 Mercer’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 MMEERRCCEERR!!!”

Reaching the bottom level. Alexis Mercer 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.

JOHNSON: ”Alexis certainly looks ready for this match tonight, can she overcome Aidan though?”

VASSA: ”She’s certainly proven herself in the ring before. A win over Aidan tonight could elevate her status here in this company. There’s a lot on the line for both women here.”

Two missile-like pink fireballs launch from above the ring toward the entrance, igniting the stage in a wall of pink flame. Aidan appears at the top of the ramp as the heavy metal chords of Disturbed’s “Immortalized” fill the arena. Through the dimmed lights and flame she surveys the audience, smirking like a predator from ear to ear. She soaks in the reaction from the crowd, holding her arms out to either side, tilting her head back, and letting the electric guitar get her revved up for the impending match.

“This is war time, this is our time

We won’t be denied, feed the fire that is raging inside

This is go time, this is showtime

We will fight ’til their wills are broken

This is game time, and insane time

Let the madness fly, show the strength that just can’t be defied

Find the power, to devour

Let the beast inside now be woken”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Hell’s Kitchen, New York, weighing in at one hundred forty-five pounds… She is the ‘Alpha Bitch’, AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

“In this world only the strong will survive

Hear the roar and you will know you’re alive

Feel the energy build in your soul

‘Cause it’s time”

As she strides down the aisle, she extends points in either direction, acknowledging packs of cheering fans throughout the crowd. Her smirk is firmly fixed on her lips as she ascends the stairs and ducks between the ropes.

“Oh, In the calm before the storm

Another legend will be born

Another battle will be won

We will rise

Oh, So heed the call of confrontation

Today we feed on domination

Secure a legacy that will never die

Be immortalized”

Aidan turns in a slow circle, gesturing for the audience to give her more before she takes off her jacket and tosses it into the timekeeper’s area.

JOHNSON: ”Such a crazy return to see, I still don’t know how Perry Wallace was able to pull it off. Getting Aidan Carlisle for Team Adrenaline seemed to seal the deal.”

VASSA: ”I liked their chances before Aidan showed up, but man did it seem like they fought harder with her on the team.”

JOHNSON: ”Big shouts out to Lauryn Wolfe, you did it! We’re all proud of you here, sweetie.”

VASSA: ”Ew, don’t be gross Steve.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Alexis Mercer and Aidan Carlisle stare each other down, as the bell rings. The match begins as Aidan slowly walks out from her corner. Alexis Mercer circles around Aidan, keeping her distance as Aidan watches on. Aidan takes a fighting stance, Alexis looks to shoot in for a tie-up but decides against it. Suddenly, Aidan moves towards Alexis and tries to push her up into the corner. Alexis ducks out, pushing Aidan into the corner instead. Alexis lashes out, a few forearm strikes connect as Alexis attempts to change levels with a shoulder block. She goes to drive her shoulder into the stomach of Aidan, but Aidan grabs a handful of hair and throws her to the mat!

Alexis grabs the back of her head, trying to get back to her feet, but Aidan lands a stiff kick to the side of her ribs. Alexis scrambles to her feet, rushing towards the ropes. She charges at Aidan on the rebound, but Aidan ducks and runs the ropes as well. Both competitors meet in the middle of the ring, Aidan catching Alexis with a running high knee! The sound of Aidan’s knee connecting with Alexis’s face echos throughout the arena!

SMACK!!!

JOHNSON: ”What a knee by Aidan Carlisle!”

VASSA: ”I think she just hurt Alexis with that one, she looks out of it now!”

Alexis stumbles backwards, leaning against the ropes. Aidan grabs her, pulling her into a Belly to Belly suplex, but Alexis fights out of it. She knocks Aidan backwards, connecting with a lariat that sends Aidan to the mat! Aidan gets back up, and Alexis knocks her down again with another lariat! Aidan gets back up, and finally ducks the Lariat attempt from Alexis. Alexis tries a spinning backfist, Aidan ducks that and drives a knee into the ribs of Alexis Mercer! She keeps her locked into a Muay Thai clinch, elbows raining down on Alexis Mercer!

Aidan tosses Alexis to the side, as she tries to recover quickly. A thought springs into her mind, as she quickly leaves the ring. Aidan looks on, curious, as Alexis reaches under the ring. She pulls out a chair, a smirk on her face as the action draws some ire from the crowd. Aidan only looks on, doing her best not to laugh.

JOHNSON: ”Aidan doesn’t look the least bit intimidated right now.”

VASSA: ”It is a no holds barred match, Alexis better hope that Aidan doesn’t get her hands on that chair.”

Alexis quickly slides into the ring, swinging the chair wildly at her opponent! Aidan ducks, moving out of the way as Alexis continues to whiff at every chance she gets. Eventually Aidan side steps an attack, kicking the chair into Alexis’ face! Aidan looks at the chair for a moment, but then shakes her head. She kicks it out of the ring, opting to pick her opponent up. She quickly lays into her with a Forearm to the back of her head. Aidan grabs her in a reverse headlock as she pulls her into the Bitch Breaker! Alexis falls to the mat, as Aidan tries to cover her to finish this match.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

Aidan looks up at Patrick Murphy, who tells Aidan that Alexis did indeed kick out! Aidan smirks, as Alexis tries to get back up to her feet. Aidan stands over her, Alexis clawing at Aidan’s ring-gear, trying to pull herself up. Aidan quickly runs at her opponent, floating over and drilling her into the mat with a Litost! The piledriver finally connects, as Aidan covers Alexis for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

“Immortalized” begins to play, Aidan already raising her arms in victory as she stands over Alexis Mercer. The crowd seems to be impressed, the speed of the match and dominance by Aidan. Alexis doesn’t seem to move much, as Aidan continues to celebrate her victory here tonight.

JOHNSON: ”Wow…”

VASSA: ”A POWERBOMB!!!”

JOHNSON: ”No! A stunning victory by Aidan Carlisle tonight in her first singles match since returning to 4CW.”

VASSA: ”I think that’s underselling it, holy shit did Alexis not stand a chance. She looked like she was in over her head, especially after that knee connected.”

JOHNSON: ”Well you have to think this bodes well for Aidan, certainly not missing a step since coming back.”

VASSA: ”It’ll be interesting to see what she does next, this was certainly a statement made here tonight.”

Heading to the back, Anastasia Hayden steps onto the scene and greets the camera with her face vacant of any emotion and only offering a cold, hard glare instead. There’s a few seconds of silence as she continues to glare before speaking up.

HAYDEN: “Freed from one burdened and shouldered with another. I thought my bad fortune with champions came to an end at Fright Night, but I’ve been sorely mistaken. The Pride Championship just had to fall into Kimitsu Zombie’s lap and she’s run with it. She’s got these grand visions of being so much more than a second rate champion. She’s got these hopes, dreams, aspirations…and now I’ve got to deal with them. 4CW has given a child gold and falsely given her these ideas.”

The first sign of emotion from Ana; one of disappointment. As if she feels pity for Kimitsu.

HAYDEN: “Now I have to be the adult. I have to be her role model. It’s evident that Kimitsu lacked a parental figure all throughout her life, but that’s alright…I’m here now, Kimi. I’ll guide you through this thing we call life and I’ll mentor you. SInce nobody else ever cared enough in your life…I will. I was burdened with the Fate Championship and now I’m burdened with this grown child. But it’s just another challenge for me to overcome in 4CW.”

Ana gives a simple shrug of the shoulders to the camera.

HAYDEN: “See, Kimi can chat about me all she wants on Twitter, deny that she’s obsessed with me, and all this garbage…but the reality is…she’s scared. And I don’t blame her. This is her first real challenge. Her battle with Amber Ryan? Admirable, sure. Tore the poor girl’s arm apart. But let’s not forget that Kimitsu lost to a man who could barely beat Zion on Octane. So while she may be Pride Champion…let’s not pretend like she’s ready to step into my ring.”

A slight grin starts to form at the corner of Anastasia’s mouth as her tone begins to sound almost cheerful for what’s next.

HAYDEN: “This is a learning experience for her. A chance to realize the world isn’t all just Dean Judas and Luke Jones. That there’s real competition and real talent out in the world. While she likes to entangle herself in her own web of confusion, it’s time for her to step out of that and face me. All she wants to do is be like her idols. To pretend to be tough to be like me, to pretend to be dark and mysterious like Alexis Mercer, or pretending to be ruthless like Amber Ryan.”

She rolls her eyes and mouths “Okay” with the accompanying hand gesture.

HAYDEN: “It’s just what kids do. They want to emulate their role models. Unfortunately, I can’t be that role model anymore. I know you want to go on Twitter and talk about how you’ve disowned me as someone you look up to, but we both know that’s a lie. There’s a reason you should never meet your heroes, kid. I’m going to put that on display tonight. You can prance out, say your piece, celebrate with your Pride Championship…but when it’s bell time? When you’re being stretchered out of the building because of me?”

Taking a step closer to the camera, Ana’s gaze becomes more intense.

HAYDEN: “You’ll need to grow up, Kimitsu because Anastasia Hayden, the greatest wrestler on this planet, your favorite wrestler’s favorite wrestler, the undeniable number one in 4CW, the MVP of Adrenaline has arrived! And I know you won’t be ready. When you’re crying, wondering why the world around you collapsed, and how every dream came shattering down…just know one thing.”

Holding up her index finger to the camera; her eyes wild with rare emotion.

HAYDEN: “The Grand Duchess sends her regards.”

She drops her hand back down, but keeps her glare before eventually walking away and the camera jumps elsewhere.

UNDERCARD
BRYAN WILLIAMS VS. ANDRE HOLMES

The entire interior of the Freedom Hall in Louisville, Kentucky have been decorated with loyal, rowdy and unsettling fans from around the world attending for another edition of Adrenaline. The cameras pan around the audience showcasing the diversity but unity in their love for professional wrestling. Transitioning over to the announce table, the audience at home get a widescreen view of both Johnson and Vassa sat behind the announce table ready to call the action.

JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to Adrenaline and now we move onto our last match of the under card where Andre Holmes will have a chance of redemption against the former two-time pride champion. Well, if he can make it in time.”

VASSA: ”Alexis did him a favor. No way in hell could Andre beat him at his best or worst. Don’t get me wrong, he can fight but it takes more than that to be a champion in 4CW. Bryan Williams is on unstoppable momentum and sooner than later, he’ll earn his ticket into the 4CW Championship picture where he belongs.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s true. Andre Holmes has been on the downside while Bryan Williams has been blazing through competition. This is going to be a great match up and hopefully for everyone watching at home, it’s a match up you’ll never forget.”

VASSA: ”A match up if he can still show up! Let’s go to Powers for the introductions!”

The camera turns over to Powers in the middle of the ring holding a microphone under his chin as he receives the cue from production to begin with the match introductions.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen! This match is scheduled for one fall!”

The strong backing sound of the drums fills the arena, as “Lions Below” begins to play. With the song beginning it’s melodic tune, the crowd cheers for the arrival of Bryan Williams. The song quickly kicks in, the backing sample playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song, the crowd quickly gets into the song as they wait for Bryan’s arrival. The song continues to play for a few more moments, the beat settling out into a flat section.

“Glad you’re gone

You’ll never hear me say

That I’ll need you here to watch me

Watch me walk away…”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“BRYAN! BRYAN! BRYAN! BRYAN! BRYAN! BRYAN!”

The song quickly picks up again, as Bryan walks out from the back head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger. He holds it up momentarily, eventually beginning to walk down to the ring as the song continues.

POWERS: ”Hailing from Los Angeles, California! At six feet, two inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and ninety-nine pounds. He is BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

Bryan makes his way to the ring, walking at a brisk pace towards the ring. He doesn’t waste much time getting into the ring, walking up the steel steps and climbing in through the top and middle rope. With a serious look on his face, Bryan stands in the ring waiting for his opponent.

JOHNSON ”There he is ladies and gentlemen. One of the members from the winning team, Team Adrenaline, with recent victories over Anastasia Hayden. Former two-time pride and one-time tag team champion who is looking to earn another victory continuing his amazing momentum.”

VASSA: ”Yeah continue his amazing momentum against someone who can’t even show up. Andre should do himself a favor and rest; No shame in calling it quits when you’re not a hundred percent. Bitch!”

A slow but assuring guitar riff broken up in a DJent pattern starts playing with the lights in the arena shutting off to illuminate gray colored images of Andre Holmes on the titan tron. “Relentless” by New Years Day suddenly begins with lights flashing, and dancing around highlighting different sections of the arena.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

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

He walks out from the back wearing the black hoodie over his head, his ring attire on. Cheers are increasing like giant waves on the beach to him as he stands on the center stage surveying the crowd with a big smile on his face. Walking down the entrance path, he pauses until hearing the lyrics.

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

A rise of smoke emerges behind him in single-line fashion as he stops center of the entrance path to raise his arms in the air, and a release a primal scream.

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

Afterwards, the lights return back to normal, and he walks down to the ring while mingling with some of his fans at ringside. Climbing up onto the apron, he quickly runs to leap onto the middle rope. A spotlight emerges behind him to cloak him in a silhouette with smoke pushing upwards for that shadow effect.

VASSA: ”Holy fuckin’ shit! He actually has the balls to show up here. Either he’s brave or he’s a fucking idiot. Either way, he’s still going to lose.”

Hopping over the top rope, he lands inside the ring to stay in an unoccupied corner where he removes his hoodie, and tosses it to the outside. Standing in an unoccupied corner, Andre warms up, and he tightens the strap on his MMA Gloves waiting for his opponent to come out.

JOHNSON: ”Andre Holmes is here and although his back is going to be a problem, he obviously doesn’t care. We get our match after all and it’s between Andre Holmes and Bryan Williams! Here we go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The two men circle the ring and they keep distance from each other. Andre looks a little off balance probably from the attack earlier but manages to keep that southpaw stance in his movement; Bryan Williams is more flat footed but choreographed in a better flow of his walk. The two men meet inside the center of the ring and lock up in a traditional collar and elbow tie up. Neither one moving; Stuck in a stalemate until Bryan pushes him back into a corner.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“LET’S GO BRYAN! ANDRE HOLMES! LET’S GO BRYAN! ANDRE HOLMES!”

Having him backed up against the turnbuckles, he winces more from the pain on his back. Bryan breaks the hold and clobbers him in the exposed ribs with a right forearm shot. Another right forearm imprints into his right cheek before taking his right arm; He launches Holmes into the opposing corner and his back gets slammed against the turnbuckles. Stuck like glow, it gives Williams more than enough time to charge across the ring and land a powerful clothesline in the corner.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

VASSA: ”Oooh! Sick corner clothesline by Bryan Williams and already Andre Holmes is having trouble fighting back. I tried to tell his ass but that vanilla midget has already gone fuckin’ deaf!”

Crawling across the ring for a better chance of recovery, Andre is doing his best to get back in the match. Bryan follows behind him, helps him back up to his feet then uproots a vicious left knee into his ribs. The impact bends him forward and already he clubs him with the right arm forcing Holmes to fall on his knees in pain. Williams runs to the ropes behind him, rebounds with accelerating speed then drops down on his back to deliver a basement dropkick!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Basement Dropkick straight into the chin of Andre Holmes! Bryan Williams displaying what the 4CW already knows; He is a top competitor who is soon to be breaking into the main event scene! Here comes the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

A quick kick out by Holmes leaves Williams standing on his knees. He gets back up but delivers a few hard stomps on his chest. Taking him by the head again, he lifts Andre back up to his feet then spins around him with a tight hug for the german suplex. Andre slaps the hold off his body then leaps sideways in the air delivering an enguiziri kick to the skull. Bryan falls back down into the ropes before he gets clotheslined over it to ringside!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

VASSA: ”Damn! Enguiziri Kick followed by a Clothesline leaving Williams on the outside and Andre Holmes is looking to fly! I got bars, I’m even subtle rhyming! Mothafuckas!”

The moment Bryan Williams gets back on his feet, he turns around and comes into full contact with an Andre Holmes diving through the middle and bottom rope to spear him in the chest. Both men are bombarded into the barricade exploding into a collision of bodies at ringside. The audience get off their feet and go ballistic; Andre and Bryan rest down by ringside after the heat seeking missile has made it’s target.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Heat Seeking Missile! Heat Seeking Missile to Bryan Williams! Both men are down but the morale of the Kentucky audience have exploded! The referee already has started the count!”

“One! … Two!”

Andre slowly gets up and takes a moment to recover after nearly blowing out his back. Bryan sits him up on the mat and already eats a right roundhouse kick into his chest. The fans at ringside lean back from the blow and Andre drags him over to the apron before rolling him on top of it. This breaks the referee’s count so he takes his time standing on the apron as well.

“LET’S GO BRYAN! ANDRE HOLMES! LET’S GO BRYAN! ANDRE HOLMES!”

Both competitors are on their feet; Little room for error while on the apron. Andre slugs him in the face with a right elbow then Bryan returns the favor with a right forearm into the face. He then tries to throw another one but Holmes blocks it then eats his face open with a gamengiri kick. After stunning him, what the fans never expected is him shoving his head in between this legs then wrapping his arms around his waist attempting a piledriver.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”He’s not fucking serious?! A piledriver on the apron? Are you kidding me, you asshole?!”

He tries to lift him vertically upside down but Williams grabs onto the ropes for protection. Landing on his feet, he stands upright trying to flip Andre onto the apron but his quick awareness causes Holmes to land inside the ring. Bryan goes for another forearm shot but Andre catches the arm around his head, uses all his strength to lift him over the top rope and sit down on the canvas with a falcon arrow successfully made into the pin attempt!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Falcon Arrow by Andre Holmes and here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

Andre gets back on his feet after Bryan powers out of the pin attempt. He slowly gets back on his knees leaving his opponent to stand at his right side; Back to back roundhouse kicks are launched from Holmes into the chest of Bryan Williams. He continues to fire off those kicks in rapid fashion while Bryan can’t seem to gain any momentum. One last kick and Andre backs off before spinning into him for a tornado kick!

JOHNSON: ”Tornado- No! Bryan Williams ducked under it and Andre Holmes has lost his entire balance! Bryan is back on his feet and Andre turns around trying to strike back!”

A quick bicycle kick into his chin stops him in his tracks and leaves him astounded. Completely in a daze, he’s like a deer in headlights until eating a superkick that nearly knocks him back onto the mat. Bryan attempts another superkick but Andre covers up; Thus he superkicks the right knee knocking him down a notch. He runs into the ropes, rebounds back into Holmes and blows his entire head off with a running shining wizard!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Sick fucking striking combination ending with a Shining Wizard! God damn! Bryan Williams never ceases to amaze me! Here’s the pin attempt, it’s over Andre!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TH–

No! Andre kicks out again and Bryan nods his head; He sits up his opponent from behind, digs the knee into his spine and pulls back on the arms in his grasp for the surfboard stretch submission. Implying more pain down his hurt back, it’s really making it hard for Andre to resist. He’s biting his tongue, screaming out loud while the referee checks to see if he will tap out. Holmes tells the referee to don’t call off the match inciting Bryan to add more torque to the submission hold.

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

VASSA: ”No way. He’s done. Bryan has him in the worst position possible and there’s no way Andre could ever come back!”

Bryan’s arms starts shaking and Andre starts rising from the submission. Both men are back up until Andre breaks the hold off of him but Williams latches onto him again. Hugging him from behind, it’s a german suplex that knocks Andre down on the back of his head but he immediately rolls over back on his feet. Bryan gets up and sees this; He runs into Andre until getting lifted off the mat and driven down on his right knee from the uranage backbreaker.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Uranage Backbreaker after taking the German Suplex! Andre Holmes is fired up and the match has turned back into his own momentum!”

Bryan rolls off his knee and Andre helps him back up to his feet. A spinning back kick into the ribs knocks him into a bent position until Williams stands upright after eating an axe kick to the back of his head. The rolling elbow clocks him in the temple taking his balance off the charts; He wobbles back and forth until falling into the corner and Andre immediately goes into the opposing one.

“ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE!”

JOHNSON: ”Looks like Andre Holmes could be setting up for the Deadline Trap! Here comes the Yakuza Kick!”

Andre charges across the ring straight into Bryan who has his back against the turnbuckles in the corner. The moment his opponent comes into his personal space, he moves out of the way letting him crash chest first into the corner. Holmes rebounds back into Williams who holds him up into the back suplex position before spinning him around into the center of the ring; A quick sit-out motion and the blue thunder bomb is in full effect!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Blue Thunder Fucking Bomb! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TH–

No! Andre kicks out and Bryan rolls backwards onto his feet. He violently drags Andre up on his feet and keeps him tightly locked in the suplex position before lifting him vertical off the mat. However, Holmes lands down behind him and interlocks his arms with him from behind before dropping him down on the back of his head with a full nelson suplex! Bryan shoots up off the mat straight into the corner!

JOHNSON: ”Dragon Suplex! Bryan Williams tried to end it with the CTE but Andre stopped it in the nick of time and here he comes!”

Pow! A sick running yakuza kick in the corner knocks Bryan in the chin completely that he falls out of the corner down onto his back on the canvas. Andre climbs up all the way to the top rope, takes a moment to perch on the top turnbuckle before leaping backwards into the air. Corkscrewing into a 450 degree flip, he splashes his ribs on top of his ribs. The phoenix splash is perfected and he hooks the leg up for the pin attempt!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Deadline Trap! Fucking ban that signature move! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TH–

No! Bryan Williams kicks out and Andre stands up on his feet. He leans back against the ropes and slowly moves back into the corner measuring Bryan. He slaps his hands on the mat then lets out that primal scream; Andre sidesteps on his right leg before shooting out that kick into his chin. However, Bryan ducks under it to stand up behind him, hold him backwards in a reverse ddt position before twisting over onto the mat to smash his face on the mat!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”SOLAR FLARE HOMICIDE! MURDER HIM! DO IT BRYAN! KILL HIM WITH THE CTE!

Bryan doesn’t hesitate to grab Andre on his face and pull him up into the suplex position again. This time, he deadlifts him vertically upside down until Andre lands down behind him again. Taking the right arm from behind, he spins Bryan around then leaps off the mat with a bicycle knee into the chin. The infamous v-trigger knee nearly knocks Bryan unconscious until Andre sets him up for the suplex position!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”V-TRIGGER KNEE! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”

Just when Andre has the hold on the tights and the arm around his neck, Bryan lifts him vertically upside down again until dropping his head on top of his right knee. Andre falls off the knee, flat on his back in the center of the ring then Bryan lies down on top of him to hook the leg up as much as he can!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

VASSA: ”CTE! CTE! CTE!”

JOHNSON: ”BRYAN WILLIAMS LANDED THE CTE IN THE CENTER OF THE RING AND HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Resting after the match is over, both men lie down on the canvas after a hard fought battle. “Lions Below” by Buried in Verona replays around the interior of the Freedom Hall. Bryan slowly gets back up on his feet and stands beside the referee to get his right arm raised in the air. Afterwards, the referee kneels down beside Andre checking on his current condition but is happy to announce he is okay.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

Bryan leaves the ring and starts walking up the entrance path happy to achieve another victory to add under his belt. Andre slowly leans up off the mat holding onto the back of his head, he doesn’t do anything but stand up on his feet using the referee but slowly nods at Bryan who is celebrating his victory.

JOHNSON: ”What an incredible match between these two incredible warriors! Bryan Williams adds another victory to his belt and continues his momentum! Andre Holmes made a valiant decision to perform still after Alexis Mercer attacked him showing the kind of heart he has and he’ll bounce back for sure. Congratulations to Bryan Williams on defeating Andre Holmes!”

Wait. Who? What? How?

As the camera pans backstage; the scene comes into focus inside of the parking garage. The lot looks relatively peaceful until a young man walks around the corner, towing along some rolling luggage behind him. He isn’t particularly well dressed; sporting a pair of white high tops, a pair of lucky brand jeans, and a black t-shirt, which is loosely hidden by a black leather jacket. If this look made you instantly think late 80’s rocker, than you’d be right…. Minus the crazy hairspray, arena rock style hair and glitter of course. As he makes his way toward the back entrance, we see security promptly make their way into the scene.

SECURITY: “And just where do you think you’re headed big fella?”

The young man smirks arrogantly before placing his hands on his hips. He eyes the overweight guard from head to toe, and looks like he’s about to say something, but right at the last moment, he catches himself. Nikolas allows his initial chuckle to die down, and he allows himself a brief chuckle to regain his composure before finally looking the guard in the eyes. The look on his face implies that he belongs here, but something still doesn’t seem quite right.

RING: “I’m headed into this arena. Now, before you even start with some unintelligent ramble about a list and how you don’t think I’m on it Rufus; just know that this isn’t going to end in your favor.”

John, the security guard, reaches slowly for his baton and allows a small smirk to crawl across his face as well. There was no way in hell that he was going to allow this little prick to get into this arena tonight; list be damned. He’d worked every 4CW event in this region, and John was more than certain that he had never seen this punk ass kid before.

SECURITY: “Now listen here fuck ass; I don’t care who you think you may be. No one gets into this building without my say-so.”

Looking completely underwhelmed by the posturing, Nikolas simply yawns and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Ignoring John altogether, he begins to do something on his phone, as if this situation weren’t even occurring.

SECURITY: “Hey! Are you even listening to m—“

Nikolas sticks out his left hand, palm out, signaling John to be quiet. The guard stares blankly at Nikolas with a confused look on his face for a few seconds. He begins to speak again, but Nikolas simply looks up from his phone with a glare, and John thinks otherwise and stops once again. As soon as the silence is resumed, Nikolas goes right back to his phone. After another few seconds, Nikolas takes a stop forward, so that he is standing directly in front of John, and then holds his phone next to his face with the screen facing John. The stunned guard looks back and forth from Nikolas to the phone, and then back again a few more times before finally taking a step back.

SECURITY: “I-I-I’m sorry Mr. Ring. Don’t let me hold you up any longer.”

Nikolas pats John on the shoulder briefly before continuing his walk toward the arena.

RING: “Don’t worry about it Rufus. You can’t be right all the time. Especially when you’re arguing with me.”

Completely stunned by the events that just occurred, John is left scratching his head in complete confusion. And he never even got around to telling Nikolas that his name wasn’t Rufus at all. At that very point, as the feelings of mediocrity and menial depression begin to fill John once more, the scene fades to black.

Tattoo Ari by Number Girl blares out of the arena and Kimitsu Zombie comes out in her ring gear and bottle of shochu. She wears the Pride Championship belt diagonally across her body. She stops in the center of the entrance and looks around at the audience to gauge their mixed reaction and see where the crowd falls on their opinion of her. She holds up both of her arms and walks around the ring to grab a microphone.

ZOMBIE: “Well look what we have here. Me! Kimitsu Zombie is your New 4CW Pride Champion!”

She gets up on the apron and holds up her belt before getting up and going to the middle of the ring.

ZOMBIE: “In my first 4CW Pay-per-view I also had my first title fight and I won it. Unlike some of my previous matches where others interfered and my opponents were undisciplined I won this in decisive fashion. I beat Amber Ryan at her own game. What’s more is that I took Ryan’s arm home with me. I also left the building with the Title. I never doubted myself and I knew it was going to be my night. Oh and American Tommy also won what is now the Ignition Championship so I am a very proud young lady. I am now the Princess of 4CW and I will defend that crown and this title like a dragon protecting its gold. If you think you know what pride is then you have seen nothing yet!”

She goes to the left turnbuckle opposite the entrance and climbs to the top rope to sit. She takes a drink from her bottle and tries to spit it over the front row in a mist.

ZOMBIE: “Now. In a little while I’m going to face what a lot of people think is my biggest challenge yet. The only reason people think that is because this bitch has made a name for herself in the industry and especially here in this company. She was the holder of the Fate Championship and hated it so much that she cast a shadow on it forever. SO they scrapped it and gave all the prestige to my Tommy so he can lead it and Octane into a wonderful new direction. They say that this woman is tough and brutal in her matches but I am the one that defeated the Pride Champion for the belt and I am the one that almost tore up her arm. Now she is down in the small feds trying to get some blood into her deadened career.

“At Fright Night my opponent for tonight threw a temper tantrum aimed at Tommy after she lost her shot and she will pay. The last time my opponent was in an Adrenaline ring she lost. Hell the last time she fought in an Octane ring she lost. So why the fuck am I going to be intimidated about a shooting star that is only shrinking and crashing down to earth ? Tonight I am going to take what little is left of her grand name and I am going to kill it. When I am done all you people are going to ask is who the hell I was talking about. “Now I’m going to wait right here and I want to see her walking to my ring so I can scrap that name from people’s minds like they did to her championship.”

Roaming by the lobby area is Alessandro Quagliaterre dressed in a beige three piece suit with a satin silver tie. The moment he appeared on the big video screen for the crowd out by the ringside area of Freedom Hall a mixture of boos and cheers echoed throughout the arena. He took in the atmosphere and knowing he had a split audience he gave a thumbs up to further rile them up. He had a headset tucked around on his ears and began to speak

QUAGLIATERRE: “ONIONS!”

He held up a onion. And smelt it.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Oh Fuck… CUT! I messed up”

He dropped the onion on the floor. He motioned towards the camera man to retape the segment from the beginning as he made a mishap. He got informed that it was a live show and 4CW doesn’t do taped segments.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Not the best of starts to my first ever backstage appearance. However I can run with it”

He scuffed his shoes against the floor. Ready to run a lap around the arena. A building health and safety officer walked by him and told him not to run backstage as it was a hazard. He gave the healthy and safety officer a wedgie and then got back to his intended message.

QUAGLIATERRE: “OPINIONS… NOT ONIONS!”

The healthy and safety office hobbled out of shot.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Everybody is entitled to their opinions. Virtually anybody who is everybody has their opinions. This is the day and age we live in. We all want attention. And we scream at the top of our lungs if we don’t get it. Social acceptance and being part of a gang is like the end all and be all. Or so it seems.”

The general consensus.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Is that why I’m here? To be apart of this supposed klique you all got going in 4CW. To feel like I’m part of some epic fraternity? To be a bully? Or do I just want to appear edgy?”

He waved his hand and clicked his fingers.

QUAGLIATERRE: “No. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I’m here to be Alessandro Quagliaterre. It’s what I’ve always been, and always will be. And honestly I could not give a fuck what anybody’s opinion of me is. I do me. You do you. Simple really.”

He kissed his teeth.

QUAGLIATERRE “Almost two weeks ago I asked one question repeatedly. Who am I? As a wrestler.

My personal life is pretty much an open book at this point. I’m not going to be arrogant and assume you should all know about me. I mean you should… Because I’m legit fucking awesome at what I do. But for those who don’t allow me to fill you in.”

He pointed to himself.

QUAGLIATERRE “My name is Alessandro Quagliaterre. But you should already know that by now. You may or may not have remembered me from y’alls Bad Company tournament. I teamed up with Travis Blake… Yeah that fucking guy of all people…”

He rolled his eyes in embarassment.

QUAGLIATERRE: “And we did alright beating Tillman and Mitsuo whatever the fuck his last name was to make the Bad Company PPV. And then we got absolutely smoked in the finals by Purple Haze. That stung. Just a little. Not because we lost, I can handle that. But in the manner we did it. I gave my absolute all, like I always do, and I tried to drag Travis Blake up to my level, but he just couldn’t quite make the cut. There is no I in team I get that. But what I learnt after that night, is the only team I should be concerned about is me, myself, and I. Team Alessandro. Whatever the choices I make, is solely mine, and no one else’s.”

Alessandro beats to his own drum.

QUAGLIATERRE: “And if it weren’t for getting distracted by Phoenix and those pierced nipples of perfection. DEM TITTIEZ. DA BOOBIES. Hubba Hubba. Awooga.”

He drooled like a overexcited dog for a moment, getting lost in lust. After the moment passed, he composed himself.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Maybe It could have been a different story against Purple Haze. It is what is. I’ve made my peace with it. But that’s not how I want my brief stint of 4CW albeit in a guest capacity, to be remembered. That’s not the real Alessandro Quagliaterre. The truth of the matter is I could cower behind those excuses and never step foot in a 4CW Ring ever again. Or I could do something about it. This is me doing something about it.

Earlier on tonight the crowd here in Kentucky witnessed something special. Not that they deserved it, and it wasn’t even televised. However… it doesn’t matter whether it’s the pre-show or the main show. I’m money wherever I go. If you think being on the pre-show takes a dent on my ego it doesn’t. I will wrestle anywhere on the card, fight anyone. For whatever I touch turns to gold. You’re going to see a match of the night. Well at least from me you will. Can’t say much the same about my opponents. So to whoever is next in line to face me. Good Luck. You’re going to fucking need it. Because regardless of how I act on Twitter… Off Camera… or in my personal life. One constant that I can guarantee is every time I step inside a wrestling ring… bad things happen. For You. NOT ME. Ciao Ficas!”

He blows a kiss in the direction of the camera, and then walks by the gorilla position and taps Mike Powers on the shoulder. He passes him a specially imported Japanese flavored Chili Kit Kat to hand over to Kimitsu Zombie. He then walks out of view, probably towards the exits because other than fried chicken and that Director of Sports Broadcasting at Union College. Kentucky was a shithole.

CO-HEADLINE
ANASTASIA HAYDEN VS. KIMITSU ZOMBIE

The camera returns back to the ring after the commercial has passed. Fans in the Freedom Hall are awaiting for the arrival Anastasia Hayden after a brutal promo delivered from Kimitsu Zombie. She’s currently standing in her corner with the pride championship belt hanging from over her right shoulder. The cameras transition over to the announce table where Johnson and Vassa are ready to commentate yet for another great match.

JOHNSON: ”Welcome back after those commercials and we are live at Adrenaline with our current 4CW Pride Champion, Kimitsu Zombie, in the ring ready for her opponent, Anastasia Hayden. She had a lot to say and quite frankly Vassa, we’ve never seen Kimitsu Zombie be so fired up and plain right disrespectful for her opponents.”

VASSA: ”What the fuck do you expect?! Kimitsu to just be nice and cordial with everyone she see? No! She’s the fuckin’ pride champion for a reason and she can’t allow anyone to abuse her kindness as a weakness.”

JOHNSON: ”Two of these ladies have been going back and forth on social media. Anastasia Hayden coming off a huge loss from the fate championship gauntlet is seeking a great chance of proving that she still is the best competitor in 4CW. What a statement that would be if she defeated Kimitsu Zombie!”

VASSA: ”You’re damn right it will be! Anastasia Hayden was robbed at Fright Night! We all know it and now she gon’ kill a bitch to get back where she was! No one is gonna fuck up this more than Kimitsu Zombie. She’s been completely outclassed in every aspect when against Anastasia Hayden! Let’s get to the match!”

The camera transitions over to Powers who is standing in the center of the ring awaiting the cue from productions to begin. He nods his head and raises the microphone while pointing to Kimitsu who is warming up for the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen! This is our co-headline match of the evening and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first already in the ring! Hailing from Kimitsu, Japan! At five feet, five inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds. She is the 4CW Pride Champion, ‘Little Yokai’ KIMITSU ZZOOMMBBIIEE!!!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Kimitsu steps out of the corner and raises the belt above her head. She spins around with a serious look on her face expressing that she means business in this match. Handing the belt to a ringside crew member, she takes refuge in her corner and warms up for the match preparing for Anastasia Hayden who she doesn’t like obviously.

“KIMITSU! KIMITSU! KIMITSU! KIMITSU!

“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 with her mouth guard hanging out.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The negative reception doesn’t bother her as she stands at the top of the entrance, surveying the ring and the crowd before she pops the mouth guard back in and starts making 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: ”Introducing her opponent! Hailing from Steele, North Dakota! At five feet, six inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. She is ‘The Grand Duchess 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 out more boos toward Ana. She brushes them off as she leaps up to the apron and climbs through the ropes into the ring. Ana finds a free corner in the ring and walks toward it, perching herself on the top turnbuckle, and popping her mouth guard out again as she waits for the match to begin.

VASSA: ”Anastasia Hayden has been waiting to get her hands into another championship opportunity. She deserves it after how dominant she was as 4CW Fate Champion! Kimitsu Zombie better be fucking prepared for the match of her fucking life or else it’s going to be as predicted, a fuckin’ massacre!”

JOHNSON: ”Anastasia Hayden against the current 4CW Pride Champion, Kimitsu Zombie! Here we go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Both girls doesn’t even hesitate to get out of their corners much less even circle the ring. They meet in the center of the ring and start mouthing off to one another. The Freedom Hall has every eye watching them as they face off and try to get in each other’s head. Before anyone can blink, Anastasia Hayden slaps the taste out of Kimitsu’s mouth turning her head to the side.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Oh shit! She slapped the shit out yo mouth bitch!”

Kimitsu rubs her lip then looks at the palm of head before her eyes slowly glares into Ana’s soul. Hayden doesn’t seem too phased but that cocky grin of hers disappears as Kimitsu knocks her back with a right hook into the chin. She falls back into the corner for her own protection; The referee comes in between the two and from the looks of things, this match is about to become a warfare.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“KIMITSU! KIMITSU! KIMITSU! KIMITSU!”

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu does not plan on becoming a walk in the park for Ana and she’s made that very clear!”

Ana pushed the referee out of the way and the two immediately lock up in the center of the ring. The two take a few steps back and forth but eventually it turns out to be a stalemate. That is until Ana quickly switches her into the side headlock squeezing down on the head then sweeps her down onto the canvas. Both competitors now on the mat with Hayden adding more pressure down in the submission hold; Kimitsu refuses to tap so early.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Anastasia Hayden starting the feeling out process with a tight side headlock locked in on the canvas. Kimitsu Zombie’s in a very bad position especially when someone like Hayden takes control early in the match.”

Zombie switches her body around so she can stand on her knees then propel back onto her feet. She falls back into the ropes behind her, bringing Ana with her, then rebounds with the velocity to throw her off. Ana runs into the ropes in front of her, rebounds and the two clash in a shoulder strike. In a stalemate from the shoulder barge, Zombie demands Ana to try again. She nods, goes for the run until getting tripped by Zombie then the side headlock falls onto her.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Damn! Really?! Playing Anastasia Hayden like that? Whatever happened to being up front with the challenge hoe?!”

Being caught in the submission one used before must suck; Anastasia repeats the same idea Kimitsu did before and now they are both back on their feet. Instead of throwing her to the ropes, she attempts to back suplex her over into the canvas. Kimitsu flips over her right shoulder and lands cleanly on her feet before dropping down on her side, shoving an arm between her opponent’s legs and does a roll up pin!

ONE

Anastasia Hayden kicks out from the pin attempt and both ladies are on their feet. She charges into Zombie attempting a clothesline but she gets swept off her feet and down on her back again for another quick pin attempt!

ONE

Hayden kicks out again. She’s getting frustrated from the back to back pin attempts and changes up her strategy. When Kimitsu turns around on her feet, she eats a brutal side kick into her ribs keeping her hunched over on her feet. Anastasia Hayden runs into the ropes and Kimitsu follows behind her; She bounces off the ropes first, followed by Kimitsu until turning around to duck under a clothesline then Ana produces a backslide pin!

ONE

Kimitsu rolls backwards off the pin back onto her feet. Anastasia ducks under a thrown roundhouse kick and she uses that open opportunity to spring up and deliver a harsh european uppercut. Kimitsu backs off a few steps from the blow until her right arm is in her opponent’s grasp that she is whipped into the ropes. She rebounds back into her and leaps off the mat to wrap her legs around Hayden’s neck for a hurricanrana!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Rolling forward on her back, the two both get up on their feet. They turn around, run at each other and telepathically link together as they both throw a dropkick. Landing down on their chests, Kimi and Ana bounce back up on their knees staring at each other in a stalemate. The audience in the Freedom Hall stand and applaud the two for their fast paced action!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

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

JOHNSON: ”You cannot blink for a mere second with these two! Kimitsu Zombie and Anastasia Hayden absolutely loathe each other and they are not allowing each other a single chance to gain the upper hand on one another!”

The two meet up in the center of the ring again and Hayden delivers a strong right knee into her opponent’s exposed ribs. Kimitsu bends forward then has her back abused with a club from overhead. To make matters worse, she gets whipped into the nearest corner where her back gets glued to the turnbuckles. Ana charges in, leaps in the air and nails a flying forearm straight into the temple of Kimi causing her to sit down in the corner.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Ooooh! Corner Flying Forearm! Anastasia Hayden not wasting time pulling out the big guns for the match already!”

Anastasia Hayden watches her fall down into a seated position in the corner. She gets an idea and takes a light jog around the ring staying close to the ropes. Until getting near Kimitsu, she bursts into full speed then shoots her right leg out to face wash Kimitsu. Zombie’s head nearly snaps in half from the face wash kick until she gets dragged out of the corner into the center of the ring for the first pin attempt of the match!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Shit! Kimitsu eating her words already! Dumb broad!”

ONE

No! She immediately kicks out of the pin attempt but has a handful of her own hair dragged up by Hayden. A quick European uppercut nearly gives Kimitsu a whiplash. Followed by a forearm shot into the right cheek, Ana holds onto the right arm again and throws her into the ropes. Kimi comes back and ducks under the right thrown before repeating the same process; She rolls forward onto her shoulders and knocks Ana out of the ring from a running koppu kick.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Koppu Kick to Anastasia Hayden! She’s outside the ring and Kimitsu Zombie is looking to fly through the air!”

Anastasia gets back up on her feet at ringside and turns around to get back in the ring. Unfortunately for her, Kimitsu had other plans. With a good grip on the top rope, she leaps up on it then springboards high in the air before splashing her body on top of her opponent. Both women fall down to the ringside mat and the fans at ringside get off their seats in a roaring manner for their competitive spirits!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Ref! Pay the fuck attention! She’s trying to kill my baby Ana with the typical Japanese Pearl Harbor attack!”

“One!”

Kimitsu is the first one to get back on her feet and she stomps down on the fallen body of Ana. Having a handful of her hair, returning the favor, she helps her opponent back up again. The fans at ringside yell in awe as they witness Kimitsu run with Ana and convert her body into a battering ram. Slapping Hayden’s spine against the barricade letting the impact rag doll down on the ringside mat!

“Two! … Three! … Four!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“KIMI! KIMI! KIMI! KIMI! KIMI!”

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu Zombie implementing this new side of her! A more violent and disrespectful Zombie! Honestly, we are loving it and so is everyone here in the Freedom Hall!”

She rolls Ana back into the ring then gets on the apron herself. Holding onto the top rope tightly again, Ana gets back up and turns around only to eat a springboard crossbody. Both of them collapse down in the center of the ring with Kimitsu landing on top of Anastasia. She hooks the right leg up for the pin attempt!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“KIMI! KIMI! KIMI! KIMI! KIMI!”

JOHNSON: ”Springboard Crossbody! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

No! She kicks out and Kimi is not pleased. She stands up and delivers a few head stomps for sheer disrespect before helping her back up again. She holds down onto the right arm of her opponent and whips her into the nearest unoccupied corner. Hayden’s back is slammed against the turnbuckles and in comes Kimitsu charging like a mad woman! Ana lifts her up off the mat and drives her back down against her right knee with the side slam backbreaker!

VASSA: ”Oooooh! Side Slam Backbreaker by the former 4CW Fate Champion! That’s right Ana, show them how it’s fuckin’ done!”

Kimitsu rolls off her right knee and crawls down into the center of the ring. She stands up on her knees until Ana comes from behind and cranks her spine with a right roundhouse kick. The impact of the kick is heard around the arena making everyone cringe especially Anastasia Hayden; She doesn’t stop there. Ana runs to the ropes ahead of her, rebounds then snaps down on her back for a basement dropkick into the chest!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ! Anastasia Hayden has no shame on hurting someone. She does not care especially after the basement dropkick! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

Kimitsu kicks right after the referee’s hand slaps the mat twice. Anastasia Hayden gets back up then drops her knee on top of her opponent’s head. Zombie flaps around from the slice of her knee but is forced back up on her feet again. A spinning back kick into her ribs forces her bent over until she is lifted over and bridged upon the canvas through a northern lights suplex. The referee slides down on the mat for another pin attempt!

ONE

.

.

TWO

Having enough of the kick outs, Ana switches her body around and locks in the traditional arm bar. Legs clenched around the right arm, having the wrist in her clutches, she begins to torque down on the elbow joint. Trapped in the center of the ring, Kimitsu’s trying to fight against the pain especially when the referee is watching this very closely.

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

VASSA: ”Oh yeah! That right arm is definitely fucking up Kimitsu! Won’t be long before she taps out!”

Kimitsu’s trying her best to carry the combined weight by dragging both their bodies to the ropes but Ana manages to keep them stationary. Instead of getting the rope break, Kimitsu rolls over onto her side thus standing up on her knees. Hayden still has the grip tight and she’s hanging upside down until Zombie rolls over her then has the bridge set up with her opponent’s shoulders on the mat!

VASSA: ”She has the pin attempt! Kick out Ana kick out!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

She does indeed kick out. Anastasia gets back up on her feet and so does Kimitsu who leaps up on top of her Ana having her left arm wrapped around the neck. Quickly throwing her weight back, she slaps her back down on the canvas while spiking Hayden’s head into the mat. Both girls are down in the center of the ring and Kimitsu has the audience going insane for her, she needs to fight back now!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Jumping DDT by the Pride Champion! Kimitsu Zombie finally having the momentum on her side and now she can do some real damage to Anastasia Hayden!”

Definitely. The moment they both get back up, Zombie explodes and starts delivering back to back clotheslines. Every time Ana gets up, she gets floored to the mat with a clothesline knocking her down again. The final chance, Kimi takes the right arm and launches her into the nearest corner. Back glued; She charges across the ring, leaps off the mat and both knees strike both of Ana’s shoulders forcing her to walk out in shame and in pain!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Double Knee Strike in the Corner and Anastasia Hayden doesn’t know where she’s at right now!”

Right on the top rope is Kimitsu Zombie perched and watching Anastasia Hayden from above is all too satisfying. When Anastasia Hayden turns around, she leaps off the top rope and lands a missile dropkick firing her opponent all the way to the opposing corner. Ana lands down her back, rolls backwards onto her feet then charges into Kimitsu from sheer rage. Zombie ducks under the thrown arm and comes behind her to suplex her on the back of the head with the balls plex!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA :”Okay! First of all?! How the fuck is that move even allowed when we have strict policies about sexual harassment? I want Perry Wallace to give her a fine for touching my girl’s vagina! The Balls Plex? Are you kidding me?! Here’s the pin!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

She kicks out again and is currently waiting for Ana to get back on her feet. After a few moments, she barely does and she eats a superkick right into the ribs forcing her to bend over. Kimitsu yells out with her tongue sticking out; Attempting to go for the axe kick until Ana moves out of the way. She runs into the ropes behind her, rebounds then turns Kimi inside out from a sick lariat!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA :”YES! SHE DUCKS UNDER THE AXE KICK! SORRY YA FILTHY JAP! NO BANZAI GOD KICK FO’ YOU!”

Kimitsu can barely find her place and it takes a moment for her to rise back on her feet. The moment she does, Anastasia appears behind her locking her arms with her opponents in a full nelson. She snaps backwards into the canvas producing a sick dragon suplex until Kimitsu rolls backwards onto her feet from the impact. Both competitors back up; Kimitsu charges again and Ana ducks under a thrown right arm to appear behind her and lands a reverse frankensteiner!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON :”THE BLACK STAR! THE BLACK STAR! THE REVERSE FRANKENSTEINER SIGNATURE AND ANASTASIA HAYDEN ISN’T FINISHED YET!”

Damn right! Kimitsu Zombie stands on her knees nearly out of it from landing onto the back of her head. Anastasia Hayden gets back up on her feet then goes into full gear charging to the ropes in front of her. She rebounds right back into her opponent, leaps off the canvas and clocks Kimi’s head in with a single leg dropkick into the forehead smashing her down into the canvas!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA :”MY FAVORITE FINISHER OF 4CW BECAUSE IT REPRESENTS MY LAST NIGHT! SHE WAS ONLY SEVENTEEN!”

JOHNSON :”THE SINGLE LEG DROPKICK FINISHING BLOW HAS TAKEN OUT KIMITSU ZOMBIE! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep replays around the interior of the Freedom Hall. The referee helps Anastasia Hayden up who shoves him away; She stands in the center of the ring raising her arms up after scoring a successful pin fall on the fallen 4CW Pride Champion!

POWERS :”Here is your winner, ANASTASIA HAYDEN!!!”

Anastasia Hayden walks around the ring mocking Kimitsu Zombie who is currently being attended by the referee. She has her sights on the pride championship then leaves the ring allowing Zombie to mellow in defeat with that slick smirk across her face.

JOHNSON :”Anastasia Hayden comes back with a huge victory over Kimitsu Zombie. She proves yet again that she is top caliber talent and a great performance by Zombie still. Tonight was Anastasia Hayden’s night!”

The vision statics until it clears on Persephone Marquis; seated in a chair as she eats a piece of fried chicken. The drumstick, if you want to get technical. She smacks her lips a few times and narrows her eyes, placing the chicken down.

MARQUIS: “Okay, I’m satisfied with the chicken. Looks like you’ve finally got yourself an interview. Ask away, Homeless Hartman.”

The camera zooms out to reveal Homeless Hartman, sitting across from Persephone Marquis; a small coffee table between them. He looks longingly at her chicken and opens his mouth to ask if she could spare any at all. However, she looks at him pointedly and he remembers she hates it when people beg.

HARTMAN: “Okay, okay.”

Hartman wipes the sweat from his face. Clearly nervous about the interview and stressed over the chicken.

HARTMAN: “Let’s just get right into it then. Persephone Marquis, you just won the Warzone of Horrors match at Fright Night. How does it feel?”

MARQUIS: “Pretty dope, I would say. Obviously, the best possible result, so that’s cool.”

Persephone shrugs, grabbing her chicken once again as she begins to eat; her fingers and mouth getting greasier with each bite. Hartman looks disgusted. If that were his chicken, he would eat it correctly. Not like some pig.

He keeps his thoughts to himself.

HARTMAN: “Just dope? That’s all? Seven other people went into that match and you were the one who came out victorious, with the contract in your hands. You have nothing else to say about it?”

MARQUIS: “Well, what am I supposed to fucking say, Hartman?”

Persephone sucks her teeth, pulling the chicken away from her mouth and scowling at the homeless gentleman. She throws her piece of chicken at him and Hartman becomes tense, looking at the food.

HARTMAN: “Listen, relax. All I’m saying is-”

MARQUIS: “I get what you’re saying, I’m not fucking dumb. You want me to get to the nitty gritty parts of it, how does it feel to walk out alive? Want me to get to the DeFeo core of it, but I don’t have to. It doesn’t matter how you paint it up, I said I was going to get it and now it’s in my possession. The end.”

Persephone relaxes, becoming comfortable in her seat once again after being on the ledge the last few moments. She resumes eating normally.

MARQUIS: “Next question.”

HARTMAN: “Well, come on. Let me do the lead up to them. Now, a lot of people seemed to be happy for you. However, there are some who have beaten you in the past who cla-”

Persephone makes loud quacking noises, a single hand raised to stop Hartman from talking.

MARQUIS: “I don’t need to hear the rest of it, I’m catching on quickly here, Hartman. Jett is trying to weasel his way into Winter Wasteland, so what do I think, right?”

She ponders for a moment before shaking her head and taking a bite off a wing.

MARQUIS: “I think he should just sit the fuck down and wait for his turn to swing. However, if I do remember correctly, there was some talk about a deal. If he beats Bronx tonight, he faces me. Then, if he beats me? He’s in the match. I tried to ask Wallace if it was legit, but he’s a dumb fucking son of a whore, so he didn’t tell me shit regarding what should happen if Jett wins because, hell, the kid just might do it and I want to know what that means.”

She takes a deep breath, a roll of her eyes.

MARQUIS: “Thing about all that, I don’t really want to share the spotlight with anyone else other than Bronx, so there’s going to be a problem there.”

Persephone thinks for a moment. Hartman becomes impatient.

HARTMAN: “So, what are you saying, exactly?”

Persephone frowns at him, visibly becoming angrier and angrier.

MARQUIS: “Pay attention, Hartman, what the fuck?”

Hartman goes to speak, but Persephone shakes her head; yelling loudly no intelligible words. Finally, Hartman closes his mouth and Persephone begins to talk once again

MARQUIS: “It doesn’t matter what my thoughts are on it. Fact is, Jett jumped several guns and automatically assumes himself to be the winner. Bronx has just reclaimed his throne and needs to show himself to be a valid king. Best way to do that is slap down the kid making a swift climb up.”

Persephone has finished her chicken at this point and is just leisurely sucking at the bones while she continues talking.

MARQUIS: “In my eyes, both of them have something to prove and, honestly? This is the only match I’m actually excited for. At these point, I’m not really sure who is going to win. It might sound bad of me to say, but I hope it’s Bronx. Jett is my best friend, my son, don’t get me wrong. I’ll always wish for him to thrive.”

HARTMAN: “You love him with all your heart and soul, everyone knows that.”

MARQUIS: “Exactly! But Bronx is a future opponent. I want him at his best, I want to know I’m facing the real fucking deal. How quickly can one shut down momentum? I guess we’ll be seeing, maybe.”

Persephone stands from her seat, stretching her back as she does so. She shrugs, for probably the millionth time during this interview.

MARQUIS: “Kinda funny how you seek me out right before their match, don’t you think? Not even booked and I’m still being thrown into the middle of everything. Doesn’t matter, though. End of the day, it’s going to be just Bronx and I in that ring. I won’t accept anything else, but we’ll cross that bridge if we have to, won’t we?”

Hartman watches as Persephone walks toward the door, ready to exit the room. She looks at Hartman before she leaves, though, waving him off and motioning toward the bones she left in her small bucket.

MARQUIS: “Okay, I’m done. You can go have my scraps. I have a match to catch; wouldn’t want to miss it for the world. This is going to be interesting.”

She whispers the last sentence to herself, leaving Hartman to chew her bones as the scene fades to black.

CO-HEADLINE
JETT WILDER VS. BRONX VALESCENCE

JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to ringside folks for our second co-headline match of the evening!”

VASSA: ”Jett Wilder versus the 4CW Champion… Bronx Valescence!”

JOHNSON: ”This match has been quite the talk over the last couple of weeks, ever since it was announced to be exact.”

VASSA: ”Jett Wilder has been on a roll as of late. He beat Mariano when he was the 4CW Champion. He made Matthias quit after beating him. Then he went down to Octane and beat Kaelan Price, a well known face for the Octane brand.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re exactly right! He has been on quite a roll and with that, his head seems to have gotten a little big as well.”

VASSA: ”Damn right it has. All week he’s been trying to weasel himself into the 4CW Championship match between Persephone Marquis and Bronx at Winter Wasteland. Using his recent success to argue his case.”

JOHNSON: ”Not only that, he’s also brought up a match that took place many months ago.”

VASSA: ”Claiming that he has even defeated the number one contender, even though she wasn’t number one contender at the time. Just because he beat Persephone a long time ago, he thinks that matters now that she has rightfully earned her spot in the main event at Winter Wasteland.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s ridiculous to say the least.”

VASSA: ”Well it’s time to put his money where his mouth is. Perry has made it clear that if he can beat Bronx here tonight, and then Persephone at the following Adrenaline, he will add him to the championship match at the pay-per-view.”

JOHNSON: ”The odds are against him, but anything is possible.”

VASSA: ”Just ask Mariano!”

The lights go dark as the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the fans more then likely unhappy to hear the music playing.

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

Out from the back dancing and wilding out is Jett Wilder followed not far by the imposing Luiz Cavalcante. Though generally the young and small Wilder alone would not be imposing with his atrocious dance moves we get a close up of the imposing Luiz walking to the ring to really strike some form of fear.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California accompanied to the ring by Carmella Wilder and Luiz Cavalcante, weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! He is the ‘Future Amazing Great’ and a former 4CW Pride Champion… JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Waiting for Luiz who as usual doesn’t look pleased to have to stop and lower the top rope down so that Wilder can jump over it to show off. Shaking his head as he follows him into the ring as Jett jumps up to the top rope pounding his chest as the crowd boos him. Jett bounces off the ropes and heads to the other side with Luiz standing behind him arms crossed. Finally bouncing back down and taking off the hoodie he came out with to hand to Luiz, Jett readies himself.

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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he 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, and weighing in at two hundred and five pounds! He is the current and two time 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 the championship 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: ”After the hype over the recent weeks, the time has finally come for these two to throw down right here on Adrenaline!”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve been looking forward to this match ever since it was first announced. It’s true that Jett has been consistent lately, picking up wins over some tough competitors and making a name for himself. But Bronx is also coming off a huge win as he just reclaimed the 4CW Championship, establishing himself as a multi-time 4CW Champion.”

VASSA: ”You know what the best part about all of this is?”

JOHNSON: ”What’s that, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”After this is all said and done, we still have a main event to follow!”

JOHNSON: ”And a damn fine one at that, despite what Jett may claim!”

VASSA: ”Jett may have a point though. This match right here could easily be main event also.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right, but he’s completely trashed the actual main event, claiming that his match is in fact going to be better.”

VASSA: ”I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. After all, this one does have the 4CW Champion competing in it.”

The official checks in with each corner, getting the nod from both Jett and Bronx. With both men ready to get things underway, he throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell!

DING!!! DING!!!

Wasting no time at all, both men quickly exit their corners and approach the center of the ring where they then begin to circle one another. Surprisingly, Jett appears locked in, studying Bronx’s every movement as he calculates his own. Making the first move, Bronx shoots in for Jett’s leg, coming up short as Jett sprawls, landing on top of Bronx and quickly positioning himself behind him as he’s on all fours. Locking his arms around Bronx’s waist, Jett attempts to maneuver him to the canvas but with sweep of the legs, Bronx kicks his feet outward. With his feet planted to the mat, Bronx grabs ahold of Jett’s forearms and then begins to push himself up to a standing position as Jett keeps his hold remained. Once fully standing, Bronx fires back with an elbow, slamming it into Jett’s side before reaching back with his other arm and wrapping it around the back of Jett’s head. Bronx then drops down to one knee as he pulls Jett off his feet and over him, slamming him to the canvas with a snapmare.

Jett races to get back to his feet, but not before Bronx and not before catching a knee to the face! The knee doesn’t quite keep Jett at bay as he bursts to his feet, lunging towards Bronx and locking up with him in the center of the ring. Bronx instantly ducks underneath Jett’s arms, stepping behind him and hooking an arm behind his back. With his free arm, Jett throws an elbow back, smacking Bronx in the face with it before shipping around and planting a foot in his mid-section. Locking onto Bronx with both arms, Jett holds him in place as he then begins slamming multiple knees upwards into Bronx’s chest and head. With Bronx down and having taken a good deal of blows, Jett then releases him and takes off for the ropes behind him. Hitting them and coming back just as Bronx fully stands, Jett leaps forward, locking an arm around his head and taking him face down to the mat with a running bulldog.

JOHNSON: ”I know things are only getting started here but I can’t help but point out how much more focused Jett is compared to how he was a year ago, even half a year ago.”

VASSA: ”He came here as an underage kid, having snuck in with a fake ID and an elaborate story to sell it. In a way, we’ve watched him grow up, maturing into the man we see today.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know if I’d call him a man…”

Bronx pushes himself up to all fours as Jett circles him momentarily before moving in for the attack. Kicking Bronx in the stomach, Jett lifts him off his hands and knees, spinning him over to his back. Grabbing Bronx by the ankle, Jett lifts his entire leg into the air before kicking him directly behind the knee. Slamming Bronx’s leg back down to the mat, Jett then falls forward, hitting Bronx in the side of the same knee with an elbow drop. Running to the nearby corner, Jett climbs up to the middle ropes before get taken completely off guard as Bronx pops up from the mat and rushes in behind him. Grabbing Jett by the back of his pants waistband, Bronx rips him away from the corner, throwing him down to his back. Immediately, Jett rolls backwards and pushes himself up with a handstand. As his feet touch down to the mat, Bronx charges forward, nearly decapitating him with a running clothesline!

Jett’s head smacks the canvas and the impact forces him to sit upright, holding both arms around his head and his hands on the back of it. Bronx grabs ahold of him, pulling him to his feet and locking onto his wrist. Pulling Jett in with a short-arm tug, Bronx drives his knee into Jett’s stomach and swiftly steps in behind him. Wrapping both arms around Jett’s waist, he then lifts him off his feet before falling backwards and dropping him on his shoulders with a German suplex. Jett’s body rolls up and over as he now lays on his stomach. Back on his feet, Bronx jumps into the air, coming down onto the small of Jett’s back with a jumping stomp. As he steps off of Jett, he then pushes him with his foot, rolling him over to his back. Stepping completely over him and to the other side, Bronx then jumps up and flips backwards, landing across Jett with a standing moonsault. Hooking Jett’s leg, Bronx goes for the cover as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

Before the two count, Jett pops a shoulder up from the mat. Back to work, Bronx pushes himself up and delivers another kick to the side of Jett’s mid-section. Pulling Jett to his feet, Bronx locks onto his arm before whipping him to the ropes. Reversing the throw, Jett sends Bronx racing to them instead and as he comes back on the return, Jett lifts him off his feet and spins him around in the air, dropping him across his knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Bronx bounces off Jett’s knee, slipping over and slamming face first to the mat. He doesn’t stay down long though as he begins to slowly push himself up. Standing tall, Jett backs up across the ring until hitting the ropes and running forward. Just as Bronx stands completely, Jett leaps into the air and plants both feet into his chest, knocking him backwards and down to the mat with a running dropkick. Bronx hits the mat, rolling completely over before coming to a stop with his face down.

On his feet, Jett paces the ring with a great sense of confidence. Staying focused, he doesn’t play to the crowd, instead, he locks his sights on Bronx and moves in. Pulling Bronx up from the mat, Jett holds him in place with one hand as he lays into him with the other, hitting him with multiple punches to the head. Lifting Bronx off his feet as if for a body slam, Jett walks to the corner close by, hooking Bronx’s legs over the top rope and then releasing him to hang upside down. Backing all the way across the ring to the opposite corner. Jett finally gives as he plays to the crowd momentarily, riling them up and raising the noise level in the entire building. He then explodes out of the corner and rushes across the ring, picking up more and more speed with each stride. As he closes in, he then slides feet first to the mat, planting them both into Bronx’s face with a baseball slide dropkick as he hangs upside down!

VASSA: ”OOHHHH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Jett is in the zone! He’s really stepped up his arsenal ever since he really buckled down and started taking things seriously.”

VASSA: ”Tell me about it! I can see the imprint of his shoes on Bronx’s face!”

Bronx’s legs unhook from over the top ropes as his body slides down and drops to the mat. Back on his feet, Jett grabs onto the top rope and uses it for leverage as he begins stomping down onto Bronx repeatedly. Pulling Bronx to his feet, Jett then lifts him up and sits him down on top of the corner. Throwing a right, Jett connects to the side of Bronx’s head before climbing up to the middle ropes. Hooking his arm over Bronx’s head, Jett tosses Bronx’s up and over his head before grabbing onto his waistband. Attempting to lift Bronx’s up from the corner, Jett goes for a superplex but instead catches a shot to the ribs from Bronx’s free hand, stopping his momentum. Bronx then hits Jett with a second, and then a third punch to the ribs. Grabbing Jett’s waistband, Bronx then lifts Jett up into the air before rotating his body completely. Falling back, Bronx hits the apron as he drops Jett to the outside floor with a suplex from the top.

“Holy Shit! … Holy Shit! … Holy Shit! … Holy Shit! … Holy Shit!”

VASSA: ”God damn!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx counters Jett’s attempt at a suplex from the top with a suplex of his own to the outside!”

VASSA: ”The fans are loving every bit of it!”

Bronx pulls himself to his feet and walks to the opposite end of the apron. On the floor, Jett slowly begins to climb to his feet, using the side of the ring to assist him. As he stands, Bronx takes off from one end of the apron and races along to the other end. Leaping off the apron, Bronx flies through the air before colliding into Jett with a frog splash crossbody! The two hit the floor, Jett on the bottom receiving the blunt of the impact and cushioning the fall for Bronx. They roll a few times before stopping halfway between the ringside steps and the barricade at ringside. Pushing himself up, Bronx then grabs Jett by the head with both hands and lifts him to his feet as well as the official begins his ten count from inside of the ring.

“One! … Two!”

Locking onto Jett’s arm, Bronx then whips him back first into the barricade as the fans in the front row go wild.

“Three!”

With Jett holding himself up with both arms stretched across the top of the barricade, Bronx charges at him. Closing in, Bronx leaps forward, going for a splash with Jett backed against the barricade. Rolling out of the way, Jett avoids contact as Bronx crashes chest first into the barricade.

“Four! … Five!”

With Bronx lunged over the top of the barricade, Jett steps in behind him, grabbing him by the head and raising it up, standing Bronx up completely. Slamming his head down, Jett rams Bronx’s face onto the top of the barricade.

“Six!”

Turning Bronx around but keeping a firm grip on his head, Jett walks him towards the ringside steps where he then slams Bronx’s head down onto the top step!

“Seven!”

Pulling Bronx up, Jett then rolls him back into the ring before climbing onto the apron and breaking the officials ten count.

JOHNSON: ”We’re seeing a completely different side of Jett tonight.”

VASSA: ”The kid is tired of being taken as a joke. He’s been improving for months and tonight is another huge opportunity for him to shine with a win over a second current 4CW Champion.”

Bronx rolls a few times before stopping on his back. Looking down to Bronx and then to the corner to his right, Jett sees an opportunity and quickly climbs the corner from the outside. Once at the top, he remains focused in a time when he would normally show off to the fans. Despite not playing to them, the fans grow louder and louder as the anticipation rises. Leaping from the corner and as high into the air as he can, Jett comes down across Bronx’s body with a frog splash!

JOHNSON: ”THE SWAG SPLASH!!!”

VASSA: ”He connected! Jett has the champ down for the count!”

Hooking Bronx’s leg, Jett has Bronx pinned shoulders to the mat as the official races over with the count.

ONE

JOHNSON: ”ONE!!!”

.

.

TWO

VASSA: ”TWO!!!”

.

.

THR–

JOHNSON: ”THRE–“

VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx kicks out just in the niche of time!”

Jett is completely caught off guard as Bronx manages to kick out just as the officials hand comes within an inch of slapping the canvas a third time. As if frozen in the moment, Jett’s jaw drops to the floor as he stares at the official. Snapping out of it, Jett doesn’t argue one bit with the count. Instead, he gets back to his feet and circles Bronx for a moment and then pulls him up as well. With back to back to back punches, Jett backs Bronx up across the ring until his back presses against the ropes. Locking onto Bronx’s wrist, Jett then whips him to the opposite ropes across the ring. Just as Bronx hits the ropes and rebounds, Jett takes off and charges right for him. The two get closer and closer before Jett leaps into the air, flying at Bronx in the center of the ring with a Thesz press.

VASSA: ”Wait!”

Instead of falling back, Bronx wraps his arms around Jett, catching him in mid-air and holding him up for a short moment. Driving his feet forward, Bronx then slams Jett down to the mat with a spinebuster!

JOHNSON: ”Bronx still has some fight left in him folks.”

VASSA: ”But how much more does he have left?”

With Jett laid out and his arms stretched out to his sides, Bronx rises to his feet before wiping the hair from out of his face. He then cuts his head towards his corner and points the finger gun to it as the crowd ignites! Rushing to the corner, Bronx kneels down in front of it, grabbing his sunglasses placed there earlier. He then climbs the corner, making up for lost time as he hurries up. Placing the glasses over his eyes, he then turns back to look at Jett and points the finger gun at him before firing off a shot. Turning back to look over the crowd, Bronx then leaps backwards and flips into the air, twisting and turning as he comes down, landing across Jett with a corkscrew moonsault!

JOHNSON: ”True Light’s Flight connects!”

VASSA: ”GAME OVER!!!”

Covering Jett, Bronx has him down for the pin as the official slides in beside them with the count, nodding his head along with each slap of the officials hand against the canvas.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Bronx wins it! The champ pulls off the victory in his first match after winning the championship back two weeks ago.”

JOHNSON: ”He had to earn it, had to fight for it. Jett didn’t make this easy for him.”

VASSA: ”Absolutely not. Despite not coming away with the win here tonight, Jett impressed the fuck out of me.”

The “Stranger Things” intro begins playing throughout the arena before transitioning into “Starboy” as Bronx rises to his feet. Stepping in beside him, the official raises his arm into the air as the final bell sounds.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

He pulls his arm away from the official before looking down to Jett and shaking his head. Looking away, Bronx then goes to the corner where he grabs his jacket and 4CW Championship from the apron. Tossing the championship over his shoulder, he folds the jacket over one arm before walking back to where Jett is still down on the mat. Kneeling down beside him, Bronx mouths off a few final words before standing back tall and then exiting the ring.

VASSA: ”I wonder what Bronx just said to Jett right there.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s between those two, or at least Bronx if Jett didn’t hear any of it.”

VASSA: ”Welp! On to the next one! Bronx has a main event in store for him at Winter Wasteland where he’ll defend against Persephone Marquis.”

JOHNSON: ”And Jett will have to dust himself off and get back on track. He may have lost here tonight, but he still has a lot working for him in his recent rise of success.”

VASSA: ”I guess we’ll see what he has to say tomorrow on social media and if he still feels he deserves to be in the 4CW Championship match at Winter Wasteland.”

The Adrenaline feed cuts backstage and we find Chris Madison, fully dressed for action, going through a series of stretches in one of the corridors of the Freedom Hall. Surrounded only by large rolling cases that house production equipment, Madison transitions from stretch to stretch before abruptly stiffening up with his eyes glaring off camera. The camera crew pans over to capture what has caught Madison’s attention, and it’s none other than Cyrus Riddle.

MADISON: “Look at this, if it isn’t Octane’s defector live and in person. That was some match you had out there.”

Riddle smiles, a towel in his hand to dab the sweat from his bald head. An accomplished demeanor has overtaken him, as indicated by the old confidence in his steps as he walks closer to where Madison is stretching.

RIDDLE: “Thanks, mate. If War Games taught me anything, it was that I was ready for Adrenaline again, so here I am, and first statement made. Kris was preliminary, but I’ll take the levels as presented.”

Madison nodded his head, seemingly impressed by Riddle’s performance.

MADISON: “Definitely made a statement out there. Anyone who wants to question whether or not your head is in the game needs to look at your body of work as a whole since comin’ back. Made Kris look like child’s play out there. Hope you don’t think that means your critics are silenced though. Everyone in these locker rooms have an opinion and won’t hesitate to voice them; even if it’s from an unlikely source.”

Riddle tosses the towel out of sight and nods in agreement.

RIDDLE: “When you’re right, you’re right. Critics are always present, whether I’ve been at the top or the bottom working my way up. I might even give them reasons on purpose at times, but as far as my work, I intend to keep them silenced about my presence between the ropes. I appreciate the acknowledgement from you as well, given all from the past and recent.”

MADISON: “If anyone gets wantin’ to test themselves it’s me. I presented a challenge that you’ve failed to overcome, I completely understand tryin’ to overcome that challenge; who knows, now that you’re on Adrenaline maybe we’ll eventually get a one on one, not one of these clusterfuck tag matches.”

Madison joked while cracking a smile.

MADISON: “Not tonight though, I’ve got to try and silence one of those unlikely critics myself.”

RIDDLE: “Yeah, Jair is one of those elite 4CW players. It’s surely one I’m looking forward to watching. Funny isn’t it? After all the time and work, there’s always a detractor. You eventually reach a point where you force the hands and make it a mission to silence.”

Riddle looks to Madison with a more distant expression, as if his own words put him in thought. After a few seconds he shakes it off, refocusing.

RIDDLE: “But, that’s what we are built to do, separating the strong from the weak. Lesser men and women surrender to the critic, wherein the adaptable accept and overcome.”

MADISON: “I knew, comin’ back to 4CW, I’d eventually hear some backlash because of how I left. Hell, if it came from Cashe or Williams, I’d even say it’s warranted. But Hopkins? He’s one of the last people that I thought would be affected by my departure. If it weren’t for that embarrassin’ Ninja Loco shtick, we’d never even have had crossed paths in 4CW. Yet, somehow, respect was lost for me because of the decisions I made.”

Madison paused for a moment as he thought to himself, turning his head off to the side for just a split second.

MADISON: “…but like you said, accept the criticism and overcome.”

Riddle nods slowly, raising his eyebrows as he spoke, but only for a second.

RIDDLE: “That’s all you can do. I’ve been doing it myself because of many bad decisions. No movement except forward. It all comes back to where it once was, if it’s desired enough. Tonight, just as I made a statement to everyone, you make a statement to Hopkins.”

Just as Madison was about to continue on, the two men turn their attention to Frankie Morrison as he casually strolls into the picture. He tugs on the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing them close enough for him to button up. He skeptically looks at Cyrus, keeping an eye on him as he begins to speak to Madison.

MORRISON: “I hate to break up whatever this is, but it’s just about time to get out there Chris.”

Madison nods his head, shrugs his shoulders, and bounces from side to side on the balls of his feet. He quickly looks over to Riddle and pats him on the shoulder.

MADISON: “Keep it up Riddle, don’t let anyone get in your way man! I got my own business to take care of, I’ll talk to you soon man.”

Madison joins his manager, standing side by side as they slowly walk away from Riddle. The two can be heard conversing with each other as they fade off screen.

RIDDLE: “Not a soul…”

Riddle smirks while looking in the direction of Madison and Morrison, using his thumb and index finger to rub his chin as he walks away.

We cut to the backstage area of Freedom Hall here in Louisville. The door to the men’s locker room swings open and stepping into the room is none other than Kris, with a brace around his neck. Kris is looking pretty disappointed as a result of his loss against Cyrus Riddle earlier on this evening, still covered in sweat and in his ring gear Kris takes a deep breath as he pushes through the door.

SSSSSSSSSSMMMMMMMACKK!!!

Just as he turns around a chair catches him square in the face!! He crumples to the ground and from behind the door Brody Lee Prince and Magnus Brutus stand there with a confused look on their faces. Brody Lee holds the dented steel chair in his hands as Magnus finishes the last of a cigarette tossing it to the ground.

BRUTUS: “Who the hell is this?”

Brody Lee looks at Kris who is covered up holding his face in some serious pain.

PRINCE: “That’s Kris. He’s kind of funny on the Twitter.”

There’s a slight pause. Brody Lee begins to chuckle thinking about some of things he’s read on Twitter probably.

BRUTUS: “That’s the guy Wrigley wanted us to get?”

The smile on Brody Lee’s face quickly goes away as he turns towards Magnus to answer his question.

PRINCE: “Nope, not even close.”

Magnus looks at Brody Lee and Brody Lee looks back at Magnus, the two stand there for a couple of moments giving time for Kris to slowly start to pull himself somewhat back up to his feet.

BRUTUS: “Well shit… since we’re here.”

With that Magnus begins to unload with a couple of clubbing shots across Kris’ back and then grabs him by the arm and stretches it out across the open wooden locker where clothes are hanging for the wrestlers. Brody Lee reaches back with the chair once again…

SMMMMMMMMMMMACKK!!!

…connecting with a violent shot to the exposed forearm of Kris! Kris tucks it under his chest as he collapses to the floor screaming and writhing in severe pain. Brody Lee tosses the chair to the side and the Hostile Takeover make their way out of the locker room area.

MAIN EVENT
CHRIS MADISON VS. JAIR HOPKINS

JOHNSON: ”Well… tonight has been quite eventful. Wouldn’t you agree, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”Indeed, Steve. We just had two outstanding headline matches. Not one, but two! And now it’s time for the main event of the evening.”

JOHNSON: ”A main event featuring two individuals that we should have seen square off in the ring a long time ago!”

VASSA: ”You damn straight! Tonight Jair Hopkins and Chris Madison will go head to head. No teams. No stables. No Unstable. Just Mr. Mayhem himself and El Ninja Loco!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s been over a year since we’ve seen Unstable in 4CW. You’re bringing up some memories.”

VASSA: ”Just taking a trip down memory lane. These two have competed in multiple places throughout the years and have yet to have a single match against each other, one on one.”

JOHNSON: ”It finally happens tonight, in a match that could main event any pay-per-view.”

VASSA: ”No need to wait that long because Adrenaline Seventy-Five is already here and these two have a date with destiny.”

The arena’s lights dim to black as the opening guitar riffs to “War Machine” by KISS begin to screech over the P.A. system. The video screen lights up with visual static noise. Suddenly in the center of the screen a black handprint begins pulsating to the beat of the drum that has began to play.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, our main event is scheduled for one fall!”

A spotlight shines on the entrance ramp and we see Chris Madison standing with his head bowed under a black towel, wearing an official licensed t-shirt that says, “Always Ready For War,” across the chest. He nods his head to the music and as the chorus breaks he rips the towel from his head and tosses it into the live audience, starting his way down the ramp toward, the ring.

“Better watch out ’cause I’m a war machine

Better watch out ’cause I’m a war machine”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring first, from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is a former 4CW Pride Champion, ‘Mayhem’… CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

Madison makes it to the base of the steps and places one foot down before scoping out the fans directly behind him by peering over his shoulder. He smirks as the live audience sings along to the entrance music and then marches up the steps and climbs through the ropes. He immediately leaps up onto the middle rope and faces out towards the crowd. He brings his fists up to his face and punches his jaw with each hand before shooting his arms out horizontally with his hands wide open, welcoming whatever challenge is coming his way. Madison hops backwards, bouncing off of his feet and turns towards the center of the ring, snarling and ready to go…

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The arena lights flickers on and off as there is a visual on the 4CW-Tron, that of a seemingly younger version of Jair with cornrolls, standing on the corner in a neighborhood, a lost look on his face as his head was on a swivel, a paper bag in his hand as siren lights were seen and heard. Running full speed, cutting corners and taking shortcuts, you could see him look back before being frozen in his running stance. Several seconds later, glitches appeared before his image faded. The tron went blank as the intro to “Fade Away” by Logic blasted into play…

“All day (all day), everyday (everyday)

We was on that block until we made a way (we made a way)

Day to day, man that’s the only way (only way)

They gon’ know my name until it fade away”

Jumping onto the stage as he came out, cupping his ears to the crowd as he used his other hand to get the fans to raise the noise up even further. Going to the other side of the stage, he did the same as he got them to get a bit more louder for him. Hopping his way back to the stage, he did a quick spin as his back was showing, pointing alas like Randy Moss, to the name on his ‘jersey’, Hopkins rushed down the ramp before sliding into the ring and popping up.

“Fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away

They gon’ know my name until it fade—

(Way, way, way), fade away

They gon’ know my name until it fade away”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring next and HAILING from Brooklyn, New York but residing in Los Angeles, California… Standing in at five feet and eight inches, weighing in at two hundred and eleven pounds… Two time 4CW Champion and former 4CW Tag Team Champion… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

Celebrating with a lap around the ring and a hand up as he blessed the faithful fans with a kiss before folding his hands in the form of a prayer to which he then went to his corner to gather himself for battle.

JOHNSON: ”There they are, two names that we should have seen across from one another for quite some time.”

VASSA: ”This should be like what, the second or third time these two have faced off? Nope! They’re popping their cherries here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Over the weeks leading up to this match, I know that Chris has been rubbed wrong by some things that Jair has said about him and his departure just last year.”

VASSA: ”He lost the mans respect.”

JOHNSON: ”Turns out, Chris isn’t too happy about the things that have been said.”

VASSA: ”Whatever beef these two have can be settled right here in that ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh no doubt I’m sure it will. There’s no doubt in my mind that these two are going to put on one heck of a match for us all here tonight.”

VASSA: ”No teams, no partners, just two men facing off against each other. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

JOHNSON: ”This is a championship caliber match. A pay-per-view caliber match!”

VASSA: ”And Perry Wallace is giving it away for free tonight on Adrenaline.”

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t the first time we’ve had a huge match on Adrenaline, and I’m sure it won’t be the last either.”

VASSA: ”Keep ’em coming and I’ll be a happy man. Any match 4CW has can be considered a pay-per-view type match. The level of competition here in unparalleled!”

As both men stand in their corners, the official checks in with them both. With both men ready, he then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Both men approach one another until standing face to face in the center of the ring. A few words are exchanged between the before a nod is exchanged from both parties. Backing away from each other, they circle each other, eyeing each other closely. Shooting in first, Madison goes for Hopkins’ legs but comes up empty handed as Jair quickly side steps him. As Madison rises to his feet, Hopkins takes advantage of his position and hits him in the back with forearm shot, sending him stumbling forward to the ropes. Hopkins charges in and Madison feels his foot steps against the canvas getting closer and closer. As he comes within range, Madison spins around and throws an elbow for Jair’s head. Dodging the blow to the head, Hopkins ducks underneath it and drives his shoulder into Madison’s stomach, forcing him to buckle over from the collision.

Lifting Madison off his feet, Hopkins turns around with his back to the ropes before throwing Madison down to the canvas with a scoop slam. Leaping straight up into the air, he comes down, hitting Madison in the chest with a jumping elbow drop. Madison’s arms quickly cover his chest as Hopkins climbs back to his feet. After a couple of stomps to the shoulder, Jair then leaps straight up a second time, this time coming down with a leg drop across Madison’s throat. With Jair’s leg over his neck and pinning his head to the canvas, Madison’s feet shoot straight into the air. Rolling backwards, Hopkins pushes himself up into a handstand and back down to his feet before jumping up and kicking his legs out on the way down, planting both feet into the side of Madison’s head.

Pulling Madison to his feet, Bronx hits him with a few rights, backing him into the corner. Grabbing the ropes, he holds onto them as he then begins kicking Madison in the stomach over and over. Grabbing Madison by the wrist, he then pulls him away from the corner and whips him across the ring to the opposite corner. Just as Madison crashes into the corner, Hopkins charges across the ring headed straight for him. About three-quarters of the way, Hopkins leaps forward into the air, planting his feet into Madison’s stomach. Grabbing him by the back of the head with both hands, Hopkins then rolls backwards and as he hits his back to the mat, he pulls Madison down and kicks his legs straight, throwing Madison up and over with a monkey flip.

VASSA: ”Jair is off to a hot start against one of the fiercest men to have ever stepped inside of a 4CW ring.”

JOHNSON: ”The same thing can be said about Jair. After all, he’s held the 4CW Championship not once, but twice!”

VASSA: ”This is a match that I know the fans have been dying to see for some time now.”

JOHNSON: ”Not only the fans, but both Chris and Jair as well!”

As Madison slowly gets back to his feet, Hopkins rushes in and goes for his head with a superkick. His foot comes within inches of Madison’s face before it’s caught in mid-air. Pulling Hopkins in close, Madison then wraps him up before lifting him off his feet and slamming him to the canvas with a T-Bone suplex. Rolling over to all fours, Madison then quickly crawls over to Hopkins and cradles him with an arm behind the head and another hooking a leg. Holding Hopkins in place, he then begins ramming repeated knee strikes to Hopkins’ ribs. Standing to his feet, he pulls Hopkins up from the mat before spinning him around and lifting him into the air with a pump-handle and slamming him back down to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Madison has turned things around, countering Jair’s superkick and turning it into a T-Bone suplex.”

VASSA: ”With someone as skilled as Madison is, all it takes is one tiny opportunity for him to turn it into something huge.”

He pulls Jair up from the mat before unloading into him with a combination of body strikes. Throwing lefts and rights, Madison backs Jair across the entire ring until he’s left with nowhere else to go and the ropes at his back. Grabbing the ropes to Jair’s left, Madison then pulls himself in, lifting his knee up and driving it into Jair’s stomach. Hopkins lunges over from the impact as Madison back steps to the center of the ring. Charging forward, Madison then hits Hopkins with a running clothesline as he stands, flipping him up and over the top rope. Jair manages to land on his feet on the outside floor before stumbling back a few steps off balance. Turning in the opposite direction, Madison then bolts for the ropes and as he comes back on the return, he leaps up and over the top, clearing the top rope by inches, before twisting his body and flipping backwards. Coming down, Jair has no choice but to brace himself as Madison collides into him with the high jump moonsault. The two then spill onto the floor as the entire arena begins chanting.

“Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son!”

From the inside of the ring, the official begins the ten count while Madison and Jair slowly begin stirring on the floor and climbing to their feet.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Rising first, Madison grabs ahold of Jair before dragging him closer to the ring and throwing him into the side of it.

“Four! … Five!”

Lifting Jair up from the floor, Madison holds him against the side of the ring as he begins slamming knee after knee into his mid-section.

“Five! … Six!”

Rolling Jair back into the ring, Madison then slides in right behind him. Pulling Jair up from the mat, Madison turns him around to face the opposite direction before squatting down and placing his head between Jair’s legs. Standing tall, he lifts Jair into the air on his shoulders in a seated position. Pushing Jair up into the air, he goes to wrap him around the waist for the transition into a German suplex but Jair reverses and hooks an arm around the front of his head. Falling backwards to the mat, Jair pulls Madison down and drops him to the canvas with a reverse DDT!

VASSA: ”Jair showed him up right there!”

JOHNSON: ”Chris had him set up for the End Game but Jair quickly countered with a reverse DDT!”

Rolling over and covering Madison, Jair goes for the pin as the official drops in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Kicking out just before the two, Madison breaks the officials count. Having changed the momentum in the match, Jair quickly gets back to his feet before going straight to attack mode. After a series of kicks and stomps to Madison’s mid-section, Jair pulls him up to his feet only to put him back down, this time with a front face slam! Madison slowly pushes himself up to one knee and as he looks up, Jair is right there, running straight for him and leveling him with a shining wizard. With Madison laid out across the mat, Jair then rushes to the corner, leaping all the way up to the top and bypassing the actual climbing. Looking out over the crowd, he then leaps away and flips backwards through the air, coming down across Madison with a moonsault! Hooking his leg, Jair goes for the pin once again as the official rushes over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Just as the officials hand slaps the mat a second time, Madison pops a shoulder up, breaking the count. Pushing himself up, he then grabs Madison by the head with both hands before pulling him up as well. Just as Madison gets to both feet while bent over, he bursts forward, wrapping Jair up around the waist with both arms and driving him backwards across the ring. With the ropes within a few feet, Jair quickly pulls himself away from Madison and side steps him. Madison’s momentum continues forward as he goes through the ropes head first. Grabbing the apron as he falls to the outside, Madison manages to use it as he lands to his feet, avoiding a nasty fall. He then looks up into the ring where Hopkins grabs the top rope and jumps straight into the air. Coming back down, Hopkins legs and body go through the ropes and his feet plow into Madison’s face, knocking him backwards into the nearby barricade at ringside. Jair pulls himself back up and through the ropes and into the ring.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

With Madison pushing himself up and away from the barricade, Jair then turns to the opposite set of ropes across the ring and takes off. Hitting them and coming back with even more speed, Jair leaps through the ropes and to the outside, flying straight for Madison with a suicide dive. As Hopkins closes in, Madison erupts from his position and jumps forward, connecting with a flying knee to Hopkins’ grill! He drops to the floor with a thud as the crowd gasps at the sight.

JOHNSON: ”Talk about a head rush!”

VASSA: ”YOU GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Hold up, don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s showing signs of life and moving.”

VASSA: ”Welcome to the concussion club, Jair!”

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Grabbing Jair, Madison lifts him up from the floor and drags him over to the ring, rolling him back inside. Climbing onto the apron, he then steps back inside of the ring, ending the officials ten count early. Like a machine, Madison continues on. Pulling Jair up from the mat, he locks onto his wrist and then pulls him into a short-arm clothesline, knocking him flat on his back. Still holding Jair by the wrist, Madison jerks him up to his feet before pulling him into a knee and then whipping him to the ropes. Hopkins comes back on the return and right into Madison’s arms who lifts him up and then plants him into the mat with a sit-out spinebuster. Crawling over and then rolling across Hopkins as he hooks the leg, Madison covers him with his back against him as the official races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Kicking out, Jair breaks the hold as Madison releases his leg and pushes himself up. Lifting Jair from the mat, he then throws him to the ropes again. Quick on his feet, Jair leaps into the air, planting both feet on the middle rope and springboarding off. Turning his body in mid-air, Jair catches Madison by surprise as he wraps his legs around his head and flips him across the ring with a head scissors takedown.

VASSA: ”OOHHHH!!! Scissor me timbers!”

Madison hits the mat but rolls up to his feet in a fluid motion. Turning around, his eyes light up as Jair is right there to greet him with a running right to the dome! Madison falls backwards into the corner with his arms stretched across the top ropes. Rushing in, Jair unloads with lefts and rights, rapid body blows to Madison. Grabbing Madison by the arm, Jair then pulls him away from the corner and throws him to the opposite corner across the ring. As Madison crashes against it, Jair is right behind him, flying through the air and connecting with a splash! He drops down to his feet, stepping out of the way as Madison stumbles forward before falling face first to the mat. Climbing the corner, Jair begins to hype up the crowd, throwing his arms into the air and bringing them all to their feet.

JOHNSON: ”Madison is down and Jair’s on top of the corner. I think we all know what’s about to come next.”

VASSA: ”OH MY FUCKING GOD TIME!!!”

As Jair positions himself perfectly at the top of the corner, Madison pops up tp his feet and charges the corner. Jumping up to the middle ropes, Madison places his head between Jair’s legs and wraps his legs up before he even knows what’s behind him. In the blink of an eye, Madison stands tall and pushes Hopkins up into the air and as he comes down, he wraps both arms around his waist before falling backwards and driving Jair into the mat with an Electric Chair German Suplex from the top!

JOHNSON: ”Oh my God is right!”

VASSA: ”Chris Madison just doesn’t know when to stay down, does he?”

JOHNSON: ”That’s End Game and he’s bridged it, pinning Jair shoulders down to the canvas.”

The official rushes over and slides in beside them before counting…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Three!”

JOHNSON: ”Out of nowhere Chris Madison has put Jair down for the three count!”

VASSA: ”Just when we thought Jair was going to hit him with the OMFG, Madison said hell no!”

JOHNSON: ”After a long back and forth brawl between these two, I can’t think of a more exciting way for this to end than what we just witnessed!”

Madison releases Jair as his body flops over to the side. Rising to his feet, “War Machine” begins playing over the arena as the fans begin to chant.

“Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son!”

Stepping in beside Madison as he takes it all in, the official grabs him by the arm and hoist it into the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

Madison pulls his arm away from the official as he looks down to Jair and mouths off a few last words, one being “respect” as the camera zooms in and reads his lips. Pacing the ring, Madison begins to relax as the crowd continues cheering his name.

“Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son! … Ma-di-son!”

As Chris Madison stands in the center of the ring, with his arms both raised in victory over Jair Hopkins in what was a highly competitive match, the crowd begins to stir even more.

VASSA: ”Fuck is he doing?!”

JOHNSON: ”Watch out Chris!”

Jumping over the guardrail and nailing Chris Madison from behind, Cyrus Riddle lands a Daydreamer to the back of his head, taking the exceptional performer down to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”RIDDLE WITH A DAYDREAMER AND MADISON IS DOWN!”

VASSA: ”Madison told him earlier not to let anyone stand in his way, and it looks like Cyrus took that to heart.”

Riddle lands some hard rights to Madison’s head and kidney area before standing up and looking down at the fallen man, the crowd booing heavily.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t like that look in his eyes.”

Riddle flips the crowd off and lifts Madison to his feet, scooping him up onto his shoulders. The devious Englishman circles around and looks to the crowd, lifting Madison up and dropping him down onto an elevated knee.

VASSA: ”Mother fucking Purge!”

Nailing the Purge on an already expended Chris Madison post-match, Riddle kneels down and tilts his head, evaluating his work. After a few lingering moments, Cyrus takes the back of Madison’s head in his hand and lifts it up slightly, yelling at him.

RIDDLE: ”Nobody gets in the way! Now we do this my way, Chris! I’ll avenge what I’ve lost! This is only the beginning!”

JOHNSON: ”Taking advantage of a behind attack after Madison’s grueling match with Hopkins. Riddle is going to have to answer for this one, and in a way he better be ready for.”

Riddle shoves Madison’s face and head back down to the mat, an ill-tempered frustration engulfing his expression while standing with both arms outstretched. 4CW officials get into the ring to wave Cyrus away, to which he obliges, sliding out of the ring like a snake and backstepping up the entryway with a grin as they and Frankie Morrison check on Madison.

JOHNSON: ”Not only did we not see the End Game coming out of nowhere, who expected to see Cyrus put Chris down moments after his name was announced the winner here tonight?”

VASSA: ”Nobody. I knew these two still had a score to settle after WarGames was said and done. A match with that many people in it just didn’t do either man justice.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know what either man has planned going forward, but it looks like they may find themselves in a long road headed to Winter Wasteland for a showdown.”

VASSA: ”A match between these two and then the main event already in the books, I can’t wait for it to get here! December can’t come soon enough and I’m not talking about Christmas!”

JOHNSON: ”Well folks, with Madison laid out in the ring after a vicious attack from Cyrus, I guess that concludes our show for tonight.”

VASSA: ”Talk about going out with a bang!”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t worry, we’ll be back in two weeks as 4CW travels to the Capital One Arena in Washington DC!”

VASSA: ”Going to our nation’s capital for Adrenaline Seventy-Six!”

JOHNSON: ”In the meantime, be sure to tune in to Octane next Friday night. Until then, we’ll see you in two weeks. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight and goodnight!”

As the officials and Frankie continue assisting Madison, while Jair is still down as well, Riddle looks on from the top of the ramp with a devilish grin across his face. The picture then slowly begins to fade out as the closing credits appear.