Things started off a little slow between the two after the sound of the opening bell, as if the two were studying the other before attacking. Making the first move, Kinsley hit Ring with a quick dropkick to the knee, taking his leg out from under him and dropping him to said knee. After a series of kicks to his shoulders, she pulled him to his feet and attempted to whip him to the ropes. Countering, Ring sent Kinsley to the ropes instead and as she came back on the return, he wrapped her up and threw her over his head with a belly to belly suplex. After a combination of European uppercuts, Ring went for his signature move, Lost Soul Driver. After lifting her into the air with the pump-handle, he was unable to execute the michinoku driver as she slid from his hold and dropped down behind him. Ring quickly spun around, ducking down and sweeping for her legs. Jumping up and over his leg as it passed underneath, Kinsley wrapped an arm around his head and countered with a jumping DDT! Ring’s head bounced up from the mat and he pushed himself up fluidly, although in a daze. Locking in a three-quarter facelock, Kinsley then runs to the corner, dragging him along. Stepping up onto the turnbuckle, she jumps backwards, flipping backwards and driving the back of Ring’s head to the mat with a shiranui. Having executed what she prefers to call Sobredosis, Kinsley made the cover which resulted in the one, two, and three!
WINNER: Nurse Kinsley via Pinfall (7:12)

The picture opens to a full shot from above the ring inside of the Capital One Arena. Opening with a full house, the camera scans over the sold out crowd as “Bulls On Parade” plays throughout the entire building. Changing views to a shot from inside of the ring, the camera looks out into the crowd, focusing on various sighs in the sea of people.

Down at ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at the booth. Inch by inch, the camera shot of the duo gets closer. After receiving their queue, Steve Johnson looks directly to the camera and takes lead.
JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson.”
VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa, the one that actually keeps you all entertained while Steve here puts you all to sleep.”
JOHNSON: ”We’re coming to you live tonight from the Capital One Arena in our nation’s capital, Washington DC! “
VASSA: ”Hold onto your dicks ladies and gents because tonight’s seventy-sixth episode of Adrenaline is stacked from top to bottom.”
JOHNSON: ”With the XTV Championship back into play, we have the first of many defenses lined up for later on in the evening.”
VASSA: ”Starting things off with a bang, we have a no holds barred contest that is guaranteed to set the bar for everyone following.”
JOHNSON: ”We also have a main event jam packed full of talent with a little extra twist added into the mix.”
VASSA: ”Tonight’s card is stacked Steve. There’s no doubt about that. Let’s jump into it before we head over to our opening match.”
JOHNSON: ”Let’s get right to it. Opening the show, we have Boston and Dakota Smith clashing head to head in a no holds barred match that is sure to keep you all on your feet.”
VASSA: ”Dakota opened our last show in one of these matches and it was a hit. I’m sure tonight is going to be no different.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s surely a test for Boston in his sec–“
Cutting Steve off in mid sentence, “Raw” by Bad Meets Evil begins playing throughout the arena. Without any delay at all, Perry Wallace walks out from the back, welcomed by a wave of boos from the Washington DC crowd. He heads down to the ring with a microphone in hand, ignoring the comments said to him by the fans closest to the action. Climbing the ringside steps, he steps out onto the apron and then enters through the ropes, entering the ring. With the microphone in hand, he looks over the crowd, buying a bit of time as the cameras adjust and he’s given the signal from a member of the ringside crew to proceed. Slowly, he raises the microphone to his lips as he walks towards the ropes.
WALLACE: ”The journey to Winter Wasteland has begun ladies and gentlemen. Cyrus Riddle tries to eliminate Chris Madison and now they find themselves paired together in a tag team match later this evening. Alexis Morrison takes it upon herself to release her frustrations on Andre Holmes. The XTV Championship is literally open season for the next person to step up and prove themselves worthy of challenging for it. The Hostile Takeover is hungry for their next challengers and with the recent tag team bookings on Octane, we could very well find that one team to step to the plate. Hell, there’s even Worldstar who I know is eager to get back what was theirs as they’ve made it clear following their match with the now 4CW Tag Team Champions. And then as you all know, following Fright Night, we now have a contender for the 4CW Championship in Persephone Marquis. The main event for the biggest championship in the business. Persephone Marquis versus Bronx Valescence!”
The crowd cheers at the few matches and rivalries named thus far that have had seeds planted over the recent weeks. Taking a short moment to think, Perry pauses as he looks over the crowd. Turning in the opposite direction, he slowly walks along to the opposite side of the ring before continuing.
WALLACE: ”The things currently cooking are really heating up to make Winter Wasteland a big show… like always. But that still leaves one championship yet to be named which is why I wanted to personally come out here tonight and address. We have the Pride Championship and the one who holds it in her possession… Kimitsu Zombie!”
Again, the crowd pops with the name dropping of their Pride Champion. Looking up the entrance ramp, Perry locks his sights on the stage.
WALLACE: ”At this time I would like to ask Kimitsu to come to the ring.”
Number Girl’s Tattoo Ari blares out and yellow and red lights flash around all over the arena as the guitar riff starts and mingles with the mixed reaction from the fans.

Kimitsu Zombie calmly walks out of the entrance way in her street clothes and her belt on like a bandolier across her body.

Kimitsu walks around the ring while staring cautiously at Perry then she grins and climbs a turnbuckle bobbing to the music. She takes in the crowds reaction of cheers and jeers. Then she screams her tongue out. She jumps down into the ring and walks up to Perry with a smirk
A member of the ringside crew climbs onto the apron and hands Perry another microphone. Walking over to Kimitsu, he looks down at the Pride Championship she carries as a smile comes to his face. Handing her the microphone, he then takes a couple of steps back before carrying on.
WALLACE: ”Thank you for joining me tonight, champ. As I’m sure you’re eager to know who will be challenging you for the Pride Championship at Winter Wasteland.”
ZOMBIE: ”Yeah I want to know. Let’s get it settled. I mean it when I say I am going to make this belt mean something and the sooner I know who it is the sooner they can start to worry.”
WALLACE: ”I’m glad that you are so eager to defend that championship and look forward to the match that I’m sure will be top notch. Now let me ask you a little question. Being the champion and all, what do you look for in a contender? Who do you see yourself putting on a five star match with that strap on the line?”
ZOMBIE: ”It doesn’t matter, does it? It’s me Perry one of your best people. You know if you put me on the card it becomes something great. Just look at tonight. Anyone that steps up to me can expect to be taken to their absolute limit until one of us goes down. I just don’t want another Hollywood situation. I want someone who can hang. For all her problems in her head Amber was a nice test for me. It really had me going beyond doing what I needed to do and that was a fun little match. I saw her following along with Anastasia every step of the way. She can stop laughing ‘cause I would do it again. But she earns the chance!”
Nodding as she finishes her last sentence, Perry runs his fingers through his goatee as the gears in his head begin to turn..
WALLACE: ”Interesting. Now I’ll tell you someone I thought of. It’s no secret that Jett Wilder has been on quite a tear as of late, despite the result of his match two weeks ago with Bronx. The kid has been talking a big game and putting on quite the show in the ring. Even with the loss two weeks ago, the kid really showed me something that I think a Pride Champion should possess. Do you know what that is?”
ZOMBIE: ”I don’t know having heavy twitter fingers and a big fucking mouth.”
Pulling his free hand to his chest, Perry places it over his heart.
WALLACE: ”Heart. I think anyone who carries the Pride Championship should have heart and what I’ve seen from him over the recent months suggests that he possesses that quality.”
ZOMBIE: ”That’s what you think Heart is? He is game for anything but he is delusional if he thinks he can just brush off a loss like it is nothing. This title isn’t no consolation prize but if he’s convinced you otherwise I can show you what his ‘Heart’ is all about.”
Nodding, Perry looked to Kimitsu briefly before turning his attention to the crowd and approaching the ropes.
WALLACE: ”Well, it just so happens that both Amber and Jett have matches later on this evening. Against two different, but two other people who I feel possess the same quality. So let me ask you Kimi. What would you think about this? Jett and Jair Hopkins have a match later on as well as Amber and Aidan Carlisle. What if the winners of these two matches went on to face each other at the next show where the contender would then be named as a result of that match?”
ZOMBIE: ”Half of those could be worthy. I’ll allow it, Wallace. It really doesn’t even matter. I am going to defend this belt against anyone you put in front of me. If they get through this then they might be in the right frame of mind to be up for the challenge. I don’t know who the fuck Carlisle is and anything in 4CW before I got here just really doesn’t matter that much to me anymore. Anything with Jair Hopkins would be an honor. Him I’ve been following for a while… but fuck being a fan. So bring it on.”
Placing the microphone underneath his arm and holding it against his body, Perry then claps his hands slowly, pleased with Kimitsu’s response. After one final nod, he grabs the microphone and raises it one last time.
WALLACE: ”There you have it. I hope you are all listening in the back. Amber, Aidan, Jett, and Jair… it’s time to go to work. As for you, Kimi, best of luck however this ends up going into Winter Wasteland.”
ZOMBIE: ”Yeah, good luck! I’ll just tell them to wait and watch me in the main event tonight with me and Persephone taking on Bronx Valescence and Anastasia Hayden. Now even more than before I am fucking determined to show what a Kimitsu Zombie championship reign means to 4CW. I will show them what it really is that you just signed them up for and what they will be going up against!”
Kimitsu tosses the mic at Perry and gives him a wink. She steps back and runs up the turnbuckle again to hold up her title for the fans. She gets serious and gets out of the ring to walk to the back with determination in her eyes.

The cameras open to show the first person arriving to the arena, Anastasia Hayden with her duffel bag around her shoulder. Following shortly behind her is Bronx Valescence, they both seem to mean business as Bronx rolls his bag behind him with sunglasses on and the 4CW Championship slung over his shoulder. The two walk in silence for a while before Bronx glances back to his tag partner.
VALESCENCE: “What do you think Bryan and Marquis are talking about right now?”
HAYDEN: “Who cares? Probably won’t be much different than what we’ll see on Twitter.”
Bronx ponders this for a second as he continues walking, although a bit slower than before.
VALESCENCE: “Do you think they’ll be as chatty during the match as they are on Twitter too?”
HAYDEN: “Oh absolutely. Do you think Bryan will get his man crush monday if he doesn’t let them win?”
Bronx shrugs.
VALESCENCE: “Maybe I’ll give him one if we win instead. Win/win, right? Or maybe I’ll let you do the honors.”
He smirked. Ana rolled her eyes.
HAYDEN: “I can’t do that. He’s like a child. The more attention you give, the more he seeks.”
Bronx turned around and began to walk backwards as he spoke to Ana.
VALESCENCE: “Seriously though, as fun as it is to roast Bryan, if we pull this thing off. We should really consider Bad Company next year… eh… eh?”
He playfully nudged her, trying to draw something out. The nudge got a smirk out of Ana before her eyes narrowed at Bronx.
HAYDEN: “Given your track record with teams? But…it’s an interesting thought. Just don’t go daydreaming on me just yet.”
Ana gave Bronx a nudge right back with a cocky smirk.
VALESCENCE: “I don’t want to make things weird.”
But he was about to make things weird.
VALESCENCE: “I loved when we were a part of something, when we had To The Wolves going, and I know I messed that all up for personal gain. I’ll make it up to you, if not tonight, then sometime down the road, alright? You can count on me this time. Let’s get it.”
Bronx stuck his fist out. Ana paused and looked at Bronx’s fist before looking back at him.
HAYDEN: “To The Wolves?”
Hearing Bronx mention the failed faction, Ana let out a scoff before a small smile formed for only a moment.
HAYDEN: “You know, Bronx…it’d be pretty stupid of me to take that at face value given our history. But…you’re not wrong I guess…I don’t know. Let’s just see how tonight goes. But as far as I’m concerned? To The Wolves…it’s just us now.”
Forming the wolf head with her hand, Ana taps Bronx’s fist before carrying on into the arena. Bronx lingered for a bit, taking in her words.
VALESENCE: “Just us…”
He muttered for a second and then looked up and followed behind her quickly.
VALESCENCE: “I really need to study up on Zombie, but Survivor is about to come on soooooo….”
Quickly he met Ana’s stride as they headed towards the locker room. A side eye from Ana and she lets out a sigh.
HAYDEN: “We’re only watching up until the reward challenge.”
Ana shakes her head out of embarrassment as the two split off to their respective locker rooms and the camera jumps elsewhere.


VASSA: ”Kicking things off tonight we have a no holds barred contest between Boston and Dakota Smith!”
JOHNSON: ”Boston is just returning to 4CW and already being thrown into the deep end with a match against The Butcher here tonight.”
VASSA: ”The man is talented, no doubt about that. Perry knows what he signed to 4CW and if he’s being booked against Dakota so soon, then the boss man must see something in him.”
JOHNSON: ”Perry will sign anyone. It’s already been proven time and time again. In fact, the first time Boston signed with 4CW it was from a run-in he and Perry had at a strip club.”
VASSA: ”I know. I was there! I go to the bathroom for five minutes to powder my nose and next thing I know we’re popping champagne and celebrating a new signing to 4CW.”
JOHNSON: ”Thanks for the invite by the way. I really appreciate it.”
VASSA: ”Who are you kidding Steve? You would have had a heart attack with all that fine hot ass running around the place. Hell, you’re probably still standing tall after what Genie did to you at Fright Night.”
JOHNSON: ”That was your doing if I remember correctly.”
VASSA: ”You goddamn right it was!”
JOHNSON: ”You rude son of a bitch. And yes, things are still working just fine down there thank you very much.”
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.
POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall!”
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!!!”
While Boston continues down the ramp, the crowd begins to suddenly stir.
JOHNSON: ”Hey there! We have company!”
VASSA: ”Look out Boston!”
From behind, Dakota rushes Boston and clocks him over the back of the head with a closed fist, knocking him forward to the floor.
JOHNSON: ”With no rules in place I guess Dakota just couldn’t wait any longer to jump right into the action.”
VASSA: ”Let’s get it on!”
Boston crawls forward before stopping on all fours. Pushing himself up to his knees, he reaches back and begins to rub the back of his head as Dakota stands behind him. Turning back to the entrance stage, Dakota then points to the booth where Mike Powers is.
POWERS: ”And making his way to the… ramp? Um, I present to you all, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

A devilish grin stretches across Dakota’s face as he slowly turns his attention back to Boston. Still on his knees, Boston continues to rub his head, wondering what just happened. Standing to his feet, he then slowly turns around before his question is answered. Standing directly across from him, Dakota stares back as he cracks his knuckles. Shaking his head, Boston then cracks his neck before lunging forward and hitting Dakota with a stiff right to the jaw. Firing back, Dakota hits him with a right of his own before the two eventually lock up in the middle of the entrance ramp.
Pulling Dakota’s head down, Boston slams Dakota’s face down onto his knee as he lifts it up. The impact alone causes Dakota to stand straight up and as he does, he hits Boston with a European uppercut, knocking him back a couple of steps. Shaking it off, Boston then rushes towards Dakota. Ducking his shoulder and bursting forward, he wraps Dakota around the waist and tackles him to the ramp. Mounting himself on top of Dakota, Boston then draws back before swinging down with a right at Dakota’s face.

Boston’s fist crashes into the ramp as Dakota pulls his head out of the way. Grabbing Boston by the shoulders, Dakota then pulls him down as he lifts his head up from the ramp and hits Boston right between the eyes with a headbutt. Boston leans back, eyes squinted as he reaches up and rubs his forehead. Pushing Boston over to the side, Dakota then pulls himself backwards crawling before standing back to his feet.
Looking to the right, Dakota locks sights on the nearby camera man with the current feed being broadcasted. Closer and closer Dakota approaches the camera until his face is pictured close up. Staring into the lens, he winks before ripping the camera out of the mans hands. Holding the camera like a battering ram, Dakota then runs towards Boston, planting the camera into his chest as he has just gotten up to one knee. He falls backwards, holding his chest with both hands as Dakota slowly steps over his body.
Standing with Boston between his legs on the floor, Dakota then raises the camera high above his head. In the blink of an eye, he swings his arms down, throwing the camera at Boston’s head. Holding his hands over his face, Boston deflects the camera, saving himself from a head on collision and close up shot. He then kicks his leg up, planting his foot right between Dakota’s legs and into his crotch!
JOHNSON: ”That’s one way to stop someone from bashing your skull in with a camera.”
VASSA: ”No holds barred or not, that just isn’t fair.”
JOHNSON: ”Anything goes in these types of matches and when it’s Dakota standing across from you it’s more about survival than anything.”
Dakota writhes in pain as Boston catches a quick breather and his bearings. The 4CW Butcher meanders toward the guardrail, clutching his crotch with his eyes closed, as Boston gets to his feet and charges toward him, hitting a missile drop kick to Dakota’s hip, sending him flying into the railing. Boston wastes no time getting back to his feet, before unleashing another dropkick into Dakota’s shoulder, rocking the railing a bit. With Dakota reeling, Boston backs up several feet and goes for the trifecta, but it appears that he got too greedy, as Dakota scrambles out of the way, just in time. Boston’s legs go through the railing all the way to his crotch, receiving some of the medicine he had just dealt to Dakota.
JOHNSON: ”Talk about karma…”
Both men are floored at this point, still not having made it to the ring. Dakota reaches his feet first, however, and seizes the opportunity presented by Boston having just given himself a nutbuster by charging over and delivering a stiff kick to the side of his head. Smith goes to pick Boston up, but he’s basically dead weight, as he’s still agonizing over his horrifically failed dropkick attempt. Dakota forces the issue by sticking his head beneath Boston’s armpit and jerking him to his feet, before wrapping his arms around Boston’s midsection, repositioning his feet to reload, and launching the young man over his head with a release Northern Lights suplex. Boston flies through the air before landing back on the ramp with a convincing thud.
JOHNSON: ”Unlike the canvas, that ramp doesn’t give a single inch.”
The 4CW Butcher instinctively follows the suplex by running toward Boston and connecting with a vicious knee to the forehead. A series of punishing fists and forearms to the head follow for Boston, as Dakota has taken control of a match that hasn’t even officially started yet. The severe beating isn’t enough for Dakota, deciding that Boston’s forehead looks tenderized enough to eat. Without missing a beat, Dakota dives in for Thanksgiving seconds on Boston’s forehead, drawing blood.
VASSA: ”He’s fucking eating him! He’s fucking eating Boston!”
JOHNSON: ”I didn’t think Dakota had a taste for live meat.”
VASSA: ”No, no. That’s live pink. He’ll eat somebody in a heartbeat but won’t stick it if there’s a pulse.”
The sheer shock of another man biting his head forces Boston into panic mode, as his arms and legs start flailing violently. Soon, the unaimed, violent kicking and grasping is channeled into something more professionally respectable, as Boston begins throwing punches as hard as he can at his opponent’s head, connecting with three out of four. The last one dazes Dakota long enough to allow Boston to land three more rights to his jaw. With Dakota still on top of him, Boston lands a mean headbutt to his opponent’s sternum, finally dislodging Dakota from his position of control.
It seems as though the biting has alerted Boston, as he dives toward Dakota with a hard forearm to the temple. He lifts Dakota to his feet, grabs him by the wrist and shoulder, and sends him up the ramp as hard as he can with an Irish Whip, which causes Dakota to stumble after several steps and fall face first into the ramp. In a frenzy, Boston shoots after The Butcher, who is attempting to get to his knees, and soccer-style punts him in the ribs, sending Dakota’s arms flailing upward, while exposing his bloodied forehead.
JOHNSON: ”These two are out to kill each other and this is just a regular match with nothing on the line.”
VASSA: ”I wouldn’t necessarily say that. The XTV Championship is back and this could very well lead to one of these two getting a shot down the road.”
Boston, somewhat of a stranger to No Holds Barred matches, looks around for something to hit Dakota with, turning his back to the Butcher. After wasting several seconds of precious time, he gives up looking, though he continues to assume his opponent is where he left him. He braces himself, and prepares to go into his wheelhouse of acrobatic maneuvers by jumping high into the air and extending backward, attempting a moonsault – but the Butcher is barely there! Boston’s shins connect with Dakota’s shoulder, sending him sailing into the guardrail once again. However, Dakota did not take the brunt of the maneuver, as the majority of impact was absorbed by Boston’s chin and chest connecting with the ramp. Dakota takes this opportunity to use the guardrail to burst back toward Boston with a stiff kick to the crown of his head, before lifting him to his feet and nailing him with a snap DDT. The crowd gasps at the sickening thud.

Dakota plants his fist into the ground and pushes his himself up to his knees. Blood drips down the man’s head onto the ring ramp as the butcher gets a snarl onto his lips, he smacks himself in the side of the head before pushing himself up to his feet. He stands over Boston for a few moments, who was lifeless on the ground. Then with sickening enjoyment Dakota grabs a hold of the man’s hand and starts to pull his fingers apart, stretching them to the point where they are about to snap but holding back – pinning in on the intense pain that comes before the break.
VASSA: ”I swear to God if he snaps his fingers right here I’m going to puke.”
JOHNSON: ”Then look away!”
VASSA: ”As sickening as it is, I can’t take my eyes off of it!”
Boston who was flailing his free arm like a bird with its head cut off finally regains his senses in the torture that the butcher was putting him through, connecting a very stiff blow directly to Dakota’s dangly bits. Dakota instantly topples over in pain, dry heaving directly into Boston’s face. Boston notices this and pushes the Butcher’s head way before any actual vomit flies. As Dakota holds his junk on the ground Boston makes it back up to his feet.
JOHNSON: ”Neither one of these men are going to be able to reproduce after tonight is over with.”
VASSA: ”I know right? It’s totally nuts!”
Boston takes little time in soccer kicking Dakota into the head, spit flies from the butcher’s mouth as he goes limp – eyes wide open, but drooling. Boston then Drags Dakota down closer to the ring, leaving him just at the bottom of the ramp before turning his attention to the ring. He pulls up the skirt of the ring and looks underneath, pulling out one chair and then another.
JOHNSON: ”We have weaponry!”
VASSA: ”It’s amazing what they place underneath the rings while setting everything up.”
JOHNSON: ”I’m sure Redd had nothing whatsoever to do with those chairs being placed under there.”
VASSA: ”Just like that one dude didn’t mean to Twitter fuck his girl publicly, right?”
JOHNSON: ”Wait, what?”
VASSA: ”Indeed. It no longer goes down in the DM.”
Boston walks back over to Dakota two chairs in hand, placing one underneath the butchers head and then driving the end of the other into Dakota’s throat choking him. The butcher regains his consciousness and tries to fight out of the choke, his arms scratching at Boston’s arms causing them to bleed. Boston just keep swiping Dakota’s hands away though, continuing to put pressure on the man’s throat. After a few moment’s Dakota’s arms fall to his side. It’s at this moment where Boston goes for it, he holds the chair high above his head and swings it down with the force of one hundred pound shithouse.

Dakota rolls out of the way at the last second, playing some sort of possum as he flings himself up to his feet and clobbers Boston with headbutt directly to his dome piece. Boston stumbles backwards against the ring. Dakota wildly swings the chair at Boston’s head but he ducks it, causing the chair to ricochet off the ring and smacking Dakota square in the face. The butcher drops to one knee, dropping the chair with him.
As Boston clears the cobwebs from his head he leans down and picks up the chair that Dakota had just dropped, instead of attacking him with it however, he climbs up to the ring apron.
VASSA: ”Maybe we can finally get this match started from the ring.”
JOHNSON: ”What are you talking about Vinny? This match was started a long time ago. There was a bell and everything you big lug. Are you deaf?”
VASSA: ”What?”
With Boston hauling himself up to the ring apron, The butcher grabs ahold of the other chair that is on the ground and joins him. The two men standing on the ring apron, staring each other down, each with a chair in hand. After what seems like an eternity the two men snap, smacking each other over the head with the chairs, one after another. First Dakota then Boston, Then Dakota again, and Boston once more.

Out of nowhere Boston unleashes a fury of chair shots to Dakota’s head giving the butcher no time to retaliate, one after another just a barrage of chair shots directly to the butcher’s already bleeding dome.

Finally Boston lets the chair rest at his side, he stares at Dakota who was on spaghetti legs. But then to Boston’s shock, Dakota quickly raises his chair back up and cleans Boston right across the skull, sending the man down to the ground below.

Dakota gets a little smirk on his face, going to get into the ring. But all of a sudden The Butcher’s eyes roll into the back of the head and his body goes dead weight, dropping off the ring apron and onto the floor next to Boston.
VASSA: ”Dakota goes down!”
JOHNSON: ”They’re both down!”
The ref looks down on the two men before beginning the ten count.
“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”These two have literally knocked each other into a coma tonight.”
“Four! … Five! … Six!”

VASSA: ”Nothing. No life. No movement. Just two dead carcasses lying next to each other.”
“Seven! … Eight! … Nine!”

JOHNSON: ”Put a fork in both of them, they’re done for!”

After finally reaching the ten count, the official then signals for the bell, ending the match once and for all.

POWERS: ”The following contest has officially been declared a no contest!”
Both men remain motionless on the floor as the official kneels down beside them both to check their status. Waving towards the back, he signals for the medical team and right on queue, they race out from the back and down to ringside.
VASSA: ”So, I think we just witnessed two men die tonight. Hell of a way to start off the show!”
JOHNSON: ”Let’s pray for the best. But we all know it’s going to take a lot more than that to put Dakota in a grave once and for all.”
VASSA: ”Only way to get rid of him is to cremate the body. Oh wait, Jair tried that and it didn’t work.”
JOHNSON: ”Anyways folks, we’re going to go backstage as the mess is cleaned here at ringside. We’ll be right back!”

Following the culmination of the a great No Holds Barred match between Dakota Smith and Boston transitioning to the backstage area, Alessandro Quagliaterre looks on in the mayhem he just witnessed through a video monitor. Dressed in a He gives a eager nod to what he saw, and then turned his attention to the direction of the camera.
QUAGLIATERRE: “See that right there.”
He pointed his finger against the monitor tapping it to draw attention to what just happened ringside.
QUAGLIATERRE: “That is how you do it. That is how you open a show. Regardless of my personal opinion of Dakota Smith and Boston. What we just saw was two individuals just duking it out. Letting all hell unleash upon one another and letting their business talk for itself by what they do outside there in the heat of the battle.”
A subtle golf clap by Alessandro who genuinely appreciated what he just saw on the video monitor.
QUAGLIATERRE: “What they didn’t do is disappear off the face of the planet, going incognito, hiding as a little itty bitch. What they didn’t do is clutch onto their genitalia, fapping away in a dark dingy room to some clown dick like a little pissbaby. They let their actions speak louder than their words. Can the same be said about you… Devin Zebrak?”
He allowed that thought to sink in, as he rubbed his hand over his chin in deep thought.
QUAGLIATERRE: “I wasn’t expecting much from you to be honest. In fact what would have shocked me more was if you could actually got up out of bed, stand up straight, and coherently string a sentence together. Especially considering the whooping you took against Luke Jones two weeks ago.”
He slapped his hand over his head in disbelief, almost face palming.
QUAGLIATERRE: “Many opinions are divided why exactly you chose to blacklist yourself after that loss to Luke. Is it because you were embarrassed? Or is it because you knew long before that match with Luke that you were on borrowed time. Truth be told. I don’t need to know the answer to that, because at the end of the day. WHO CARES AM I RIGHT?”
He gave his best Devin Zebrak impersonation.
QUAGLIATERRE: “That is always what you preach. Virtually. Who cares? wh0 cAr3s? WHO CARES!?! I’ll tell you who cares. I DO!”
Alessandro held his hand up proudly.
QUAGLIATERRE: “God forbid I actually had to force myself to watch the shit show that is Devin Zebrak’s life. The comedy man. Mr. Funny Guy. I didn’t get a single giggle out of what I saw. I was left with more questions than answers. And you never appear in a version of your own life. You got a pothead named Mr. Blunt always watching over you as a voyeur. Even the little weed amigo knew that your jokes were trash, that your life was a total failure, and you enabled his ideology in the one solitary interaction you had with him, because frankly you don’t give a shit. You get hard off of other people watching you! Is that your Kink? Is that what gets you off Devin?”
Alessandro was curious.
QUAGLIATERRE: “You’ve heard what the crowd chant about me Right? Sorry my apologies, that would imply for you to actually be aware of what happens in 4CW which you do not so allow me to fill you in. According to them and many others I am a ‘CUCK’! Even though they are wrong and are bunch of mentally challenged squirrels. You Devin are just like the people of Kentucky were, and just like the people in our nations capital are… RETARDED!”
He clucks his arms and sounds from his mouth as if he were a chicken, and rubs his hands over his stomach like a yellow belly to represent what Devin Zebrak is.
QUAGLIATERRE: “I know for a fact that you were dragged here tonight. Forced out of your captive dung hole you were cowered up in because you didn’t want to be here. Tough. You deserve everything that is about to happen to you. And in a few moments time you are going to be carted out to the ring, against your will and given your punishment by me. I won’t be giving you a spanking or a stern telling off with a wagging finger. No…what I do to you I tell you is going to be the end of your professional career. Wrestling, Comedy, and Personally. You Devin, are going to be the boy that pops up like a retarded squirrel and then gets the snot beat out of him.”
Alessandro was not afraid to perform acts of animal cruelty on the limp animal that was Devin Zebrak, who was about to be put down as if he were Old Yeller. Except Old Yeller was a relevant, Devin Zebrak never was.
QUAGLIATERRE: “You feel a lack of attention to detail makes you appear edgy. You believe half-assing makes you popular. You think not giving a rats ass makes you worthy. I will show you your worth in a few moments time. And once I’m done, I’m going to flip open a garbage can, and toss your dead weight like a used scrunched up tissue straight where you belong in the TRASH!”
Alessandro was going to wipe his hands clean with no remorse to what he was about to do to Devin Zebrak. He flexed his muscles, almost causing himself to collapse with the intensity he had built up inside of him. Alessandro controlled it, because he was about to perform an in-ring murder against Devin Zebrak, and get paid to do it. Nice.


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Rockstar” by Nickelback hits. The crowd looks on, SILENT. 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 still looks on, SILENT. Devin throws his head around and jumps up and down.
POWERS: ”Introducing at this time, one of the most boring, dumb, and retarded comedians of all time. He isn’t funny one bit, except for that one time he didn’t call Luke Jones by his real name but Puke Jones instead. Hold onto your dicks folks… DEVIN ZZEEBBRRAAKK!!!”
Devin dances down the ramp like a retard. He tells a few jokes to the fans around ringside… and they stare back at him in silence. Devin reaches ringside… he stops at the apron and twerks a little. The ladies in the front row begin gagging. The men in the crowd tell Devin to kill himself. He slides into the ring and struts around like a bird… he flaps his arms in the air. Again, the crowd remains silent as fuck.
POWERS: ”Jesus fucking Christ go to your corner so I can announce the next wrestler!”
The lights dim out to an almost pitch black darkness. The crowd falls silent wondering what is happening. The sound of a woman screams.

The lights turn back on illuminating brightly around the arena. Music subtly preludes into the arena, with a continuous phonetic utterance echoing around the venue by the same female who was screaming.
“Bum bum be-dum, bum bum be-dum bum
Bum bum be-dum, bum bum be-dum bum
Bum bum be-dum, bum bum be-dum bum
Bum bum be-dum, bum bum be-dum bum”

“Disturbia” by Rihanna then plays on the sound system, and the crowd immediately responded with a mixed reception. Alessandro Quagliaterre then bursts through the curtain full of energy. They are decisive in their indifference, not sure whether to love or hate him with the tension at a knife edge. He soaks in the atmosphere and poses at the top of the ramp with a couple of dabs. He elongates this action for a considerable length of time, and this pisses the crowd off.
“No more gas in the red
Can’t even get it started
Nothing heard, nothing said
Can’t even speak about it
All my life on my head
Don’t want to think about it
Feels like I’m going insane
“It’s a thief in the night
To come and grab you
It can creep up inside you
And consume you
A disease of the mind
It can control you
It’s too close for comfort”

He smiles back at the crowd, unaffected by their response, and then in his own time, he slowly walks down the ramp without a care in the world.
POWERS: ”Introducing from Alpine, New Jersey… weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds… ALESSANDRO QQUUAAGGLLIIAATTEERRRREE!!!”
He really drags this on and extends the crowd patience to it fullest by taking as long as he wants. The audience gets frustrated throwing, even more, shade in the direction of Alessandro, but he brushes it off.
“Throw on your brake lights
We’re in the city of wonder
Ain’t gonna play nice
Watch out, you might just go under
Better think twice
Your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter be wise
Your mind is in Disturbia”
“It’s like the darkness is the light
Am I scaring you tonight
Your mind is in Disturbia
Ain’t used to what you like

He then finally reaches the ring, and slowly walks up the steel steps, and poses some more on the turnbuckle, to really rub it into the crowd that he has arrived. He then flips down, waiting patiently by the corner of the ring, ready to unleash all types of hell on his opponent.
JOHNSON: ”Just two weeks ago Alessandro had his first match with 4CW and now he’s making his television debut.”
VASSA: ”Although it wasn’t broadcasted, we were able to watch at ringside as he defeated both Dean Judas and June Kolby.”
JOHNSON: ”I liked what I saw from Alessandro. Tonight he gets to show the world what he can do in 4CW.”
VASSA: ”Tonight he’s taking on Devin Zebrak who should give up being a comedian as a whole and just shut the fuck up.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s not a very nice thing to say, Vinny.”
JOHNSON: ”Well tonight, he won’t be performing an act of comedy, he’ll be facing off against Alessandro Quagliaterre.”
VASSA: ”And hopefully Alessandro breaks his jaw so he can never tell another shitty joke!”
Wasting no time, the official calls for the bell, signaling the start of the match.

Both men approach each other until standing just a foot apart in the center of the ring. Staring at Devin, Alessandro stands still, listening as Devin begins making jokes and failing miserably in the process. Having had enough, Alessandro cocks back and fires a solid right into Devin’s jaw, shutting him up and knocking him backwards across the ring. He crashes into the corner, holding his jaw as he looks up at Alessandro with fear in his eyes.
Walking over to the corner, Alessandro keeps his eyes locked on Devin the entire time. He then throws another right, connecting with a second punch but this time to the side of Devin’s head. Cowering in fear, Devin appears doesn’t fight back. Alessandro begins yelling at Devin to hit him but gets no reaction. Pulling Devin up, Alessandro slams his back against the corner and begins yelling in his face only a couple of inches away. Devin still doesn’t fight back. Hitting him, Alessandro then points to his jaw, giving Devin a free shot that he refuses to take. Alessandro hits him again before pointing at his jaw once more, still giving Devin a free shot. Growing irritated, Alessandro then begins punching himself in the head. He then throws a punch directly into Devin’s stomach, forcing him to buckle over from the impact.
Backing away from the corner, Alessandro grows angrier by the step. Punching himself over and over in the head, he pumps himself up before charging forward. With Alessandro closing in, Devin stands straight up, bracing himself. Lunging his head forward as he closes in, Alessandro hits Devin directly in the forehead with a running headbutt!
VASSA: ”It ain’t so funny is it!”
JOHNSON: ”That Zidane headbutt doesn’t look like a laughing matter, at least not for Devin.”
VASSA: ”Just imagine if he has his ex-wife’s forehead.”
JOHNSON: ”Devin’s head would have exploded!”
Devin’s lifeless body leans against the corner as he slides down to a seated position. Backing away from the corner, Alessandro looks on, jacked up and full of excitement as he pounds his chest with his right fist. He then charges forward again, this time planting a knee in Devin’s face! Pulling Devin up from the corner, he then lifts him onto his shoulders in a torture rack before jumping up and down. Spinning slowly, he then throws Devin from his shoulders and down to the mat.
Devin rolls over to his stomach before pushing himself up to all fours and crawling towards the ropes. Grabbing ahold of his foot, Alessandro pulls him back to the center of the ring before rolling him back over to his back. Stepping over Devin, Alessandro then kneels down and holds his head in place with one hand as he begins slamming down onto his face with the other, delivering multiple unblocked punches.
VASSA: ”Jesus, someone throw in the damn towel before Alessandro turns someone else into a vegetable!”
JOHNSON: ”Wait, what?”
VASSA: ”Alessandro has literally beat someone until they were retarded. No lie!”
Standing back tall, Alessandro pulls Devin to his feet before locking onto his arm and whipping him to the ropes. Just as Devin’s back hits the ropes, Alessandro is right there, clotheslining him up and over the top rope. Devin flips over before crashing down onto the canvas and bouncing off to the floor. With Devin now on the outside, the official begins his ten count while Alessandro paces the ring, soaking in the fans enjoyment of witnessing this brutal one sided attack.
“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

Devin finally begins to show signs of life as he rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself up to all fours.
“Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

Pulling himself up by the side of the ring, Devin can barely stand on his own.
“Nine! … Ten!”

The official finally reaches ten as Devin is still pulling himself up slowly. The crowd then erupts with applause and cheers.
JOHNSON: ”We have a countout folks!”
VASSA: ”That has to be the biggest pop Devin has received in his entire life.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s definitely bigger than any of his comedy shows that I’ve still yet to see.”
VASSA: ”Don’t even bother, they’re fucking horrible. I’d rather put a bullet in my head than listen to that fucking guy.”

The official then signals for the bell before grabbing Alessandro’s arm and raising it into the air. “Disturbia” then begins playing over the arena as the entire crowd continues to point and laugh at Devin’s poor performance.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by countout, ALESSANDRO QQUUAAGGLLIIAATTEERRRREE!!!”
Pulling his arm away from the official, Alessandro then marches to the corner before climbing up to the middle ropes and looking out over the crowd.
VASSA: ”Alessandro had a big debut here tonight, knocking his opponent completely out of competition.”
JOHNSON: ”Even before the countout, Alessandro beat the life out of him. Devin couldn’t defend himself one bit.”
VASSA: ”All he had to do was tell a few jokes and put Alessandro to sleep.”
JOHNSON: ”No one deserves th–“

Out of nowhere, Luke Jones hits Devin over the back with a steel chair as he finally stands to his feet. The crowd bursts in to even more laughter as Devin falls face first to the floor, smacking his head against it. Like a mad man, Luke begins hitting Devin over the back with the chair, over and over as he yells with each swing.

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Luke Jones is going to kill the guy!”
JOHNSON: ”I guess he isn’t a fan of his work?”

With the chair in one hand, Luke reaches down with his other and rolls Devin over to his back. Stepping beside his head, Luke then holds the chair tightly with both hands as he slowly raises it above his head. On the inside of the ring, Alessandro and the official look on, not nearly as amused as the Washington DC crowd is at the sight.
JOHNSON: ”I guess you could say Luke is getting some warmups in for tonight’s championship match later on?”
VASSA: ”I know not to call him Puke Jones from now on.”
With one final swing, Luke slams the chair down onto Devin’s face as the laughter from the crowd turns into gasps.

Standing over Devin’s bloody head, Luke throws the chair to the ground before turning to the nearby camera. Looking into the lens, he stares as if looking at Genie with drops of Devin’s blood on his face.
JOHNSON: ”Well that was unexpected to say the least. I think we should go backstage while we get the cleanup crew out here to dispose of the body.”
VASSA: ”Devin’s best performance ever.”

The scene switches backstage where 4CW interviewer Gabriel Hartman is huffing and puffing, scurrying down the hallway at his fastest brisk walk. Ahead, at the far end of the hall, the object of his pursuit seems to be one of the four semi-contenders for the Pride Championship at Winter Wasteland, Aidan Carlisle. Unsurprisingly, Liam O’Shea is at her side.
HARTMAN: ”Mrs. CarlO’SheAidan!”
The pair no doubt hear his shout, but don’t look back in hopes of losing him in the halls. Their ignoring of his call forces Hartman to increase his pace to something of a slow jog as they disappear around a corner on their way to the locker rooms.
HARTMAN: ”Mrs. Aidan!”
Gabriel shouts more loudly as he ‘races’ around the corner, directly into the towering form of Liam, as the pair have stopped just out of view and waited. Hartman staggers back a step and rights himself, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and straightening his non-existent tie.
O’SHEA: ”Yes, Hartman?”
HARTMAN: ”Are you just getting here? Did you hear Perry Wallace’s announcement about your match tonight?”
There’s a glimmer of excitement in Gabe’s eye, as if he’s hoping he gets to deliver the news. The excitement, however, is quickly dashed.
CARLISLE: ”Yes, Hartman, I heard. Semi-Contendership for the Pride Championship, all that.”
HARTMAN: ”And what are your thoughts? Are you looking forward to trying to reclaim the Pride Title?”
After a moment, Aidan just shrugs.
CARLISLE: ”I’m looking forward to moving forward, Hartman, not backward. I’ve held the Pride Championship already. Been there, done that. Frankly, my interests lie elsewhere.”
Hartman falters, having expected more enthusiasm, but recovers.
HARTMAN: ”What does that mean for your match tonight?”
Again, Aidan shrugs at the question.
CARLISLE: ”Why should it mean anything, Gabe?”
HARTMAN: ”Well, the winner of the match gets a chance at being the Number One Contender for the Pride Title, which you’ve just said you’re not interested in…”
CARLISLE: ”I’m always interested in winning, Hartman.”
HARTMAN: ”But you just said…”
CARLISLE: ”I know what I said, Hartman, I just don’t think you were listening closely.”
HARTMAN: ”So then—”
O’SHEA: ”Time’s up, Hartman.”
Liam steps between Aidan and Gabriel, blocking the camera’s view.
CARLISLE: ”I have a match to prepare for, Hartman. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to bother.”
Leaving Gabriel agape in the middle of the hall, the pair continues on toward the locker rooms.

“Relentless” by New Years Day immediately takes over the environment with the music blasting around the interior of the Capital One Arena. The fans of Washington D.C are very happy to see Andre Holmes march down to the ring cloaked under the leather hoodie only revealing his face. The quick strut in his walk combined with the aggressive posture tells that he’s here for business and business only.
JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Adrenaline and it seems we have a personal segment by Andre Holmes who isn’t too happy tonight. Last week, he was assaulted backstage by Alexis Mercer which for reasons we still don’t know. It seems the only one who has the answers is Alexis Mercer and she refuses on giving them up to someone like Andre Holmes.”
VASSA: ”Ah who gives a fuck? I certainly don’t! Andre has a fluke victory over Alexis and she’s doing what is right by correcting that mistake. Nobody in 4CW even wants Andre Holmes here anyways so why should we care about this vanilla midget?”
Andre climbs up the steel steps then swerves between the top and middle rope. He paces around the ring looking at the fans cheering him from ringside until snatching a microphone away from a ringside crew member. Standing in his in-ring attire, his entrance music fades away before he lifts the microphone. Well, a little moment between that to allow the audience to show him more praise.

VASSA: ”Stop cheering! Fucking idiots!”
He smiles then holds the microphone up to his lips with every intent to make his thoughts be known.
HOLMES: ”You know there are a lot of things I can say about 4CW and it still holds the position of the best professional wrestling promotion in the world. Ever since I came to the company, I’ve had my ups and downs but at the end of the day, I am still here because I do what I love and that is being a professional wrestler. Sure, a few others in the locker room may not share my perspective of me being here but I can promise them that if you want me to leave this company, you’re gonna have to drag my cold corpse through the front doors!”

Andre Holmes nods his head while keeping that strong posture in his stance. He doesn’t show any fear as those hazel eyes blazing with fire stare into the camera lens while he flicks his right arm to hold the microphone up to his lips again.
HOLMES: ”Over the past few months, I’ve made a few friends and some say a lot of enemies because of my attitude or how I act on social media. Or perhaps the fact that they don’t like a new guy who’s willing to be as disrespectful and still keep a smile on his face. That’s fine. I could care less about what other people think of me because if I had that attitude, I wouldn’t be here performing in front of all of you day in and day out. However, a certain person doesn’t exactly like seeing my face and has even tried to knock me out for good. The audacity right?
Even though I thought that we could be cool because we leave everything in this ring, she has this sort of vibe to her that even I can’t understand yet. It’s almost as if a demon took control of her and made her top priorities in ending my career or even worse my own life. As I saw the look in her eyes, it gave me a weird chill down my spine watching her beat someone down and not even show an emotional reaction. Either she’s mentally insane or she’s just one cold bitch that 4CW needs to check in line.
Well don’t worry. I’ll be the one to do that for them and who you ask? None other than…Alexis Mercer.”

He paces back and forth in the center of the ring while pointing the microphone to the audience. Clearly hearing her name sets them on a buzz due to them remembering what she did to Holmes last week. As much as he isn’t trying to laugh at the hilarious reaction, he keeps a straight face before continuing his thoughts.
VASSA: ”Don’t chu’ dare speak about my dear, Alexis! She’s mine Andre! Back the fuck off!”
HOLMES: ”Alexis. Surely I don’t understand what the hell I did to piss you off and quite frankly, I don’t care anymore at this point. You have the nerve to flicker your eyes, bat your eyelashes and attack me from behind than being a real competitor to ask for a rematch. I know deep down inside, the loss I gave to you was brutal and instead of owning up to it like a real woman or going to Jett Wilder for a great speech on bouncing back like I did, you decided to attack me from behind.
There’s one thing I don’t take kindly too Alexis. Cowards. You’re a coward and no matter what you do or how much you try to portray yourself as this sociopathic bitch with no remorse, I see you as a flat-out coward. You want to jump me from behind? Cool. You want to try and end my career? That’s fine. You can try all of that behind my back but let’s see you do it to my face. That’s right Alexis. No more tricks, no more blind sides, no more attacking from behind. We’re gonna settle this at one place and one place only!
Alexis. I’m challenging your ass at WINTER WASTELAND!!!”

“Relentless” by New Years Day replays again and Andre tosses the microphone over his right shoulder. He walks over to a nearby corner and climbs onto the middle turnbuckle throwing his arms up in the air while releasing that primal scream of his.
JOHNSON: ”Andre Holmes has officially challenged Alexis Mercer to a match at Winter Wasteland! He’s had enough of being treated unfairly by her and we need to cut to commercial real quick as Andre has a match in a few minutes against Alioth Starre!”

The Adrenaline feed cuts to Gabriel Hartman who is standing by in front of a backdrop, flanked by television screens on both sides of him. He flashes a smile as he glares into the camera lens filming him.
HARTMAN: “Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at this time, Chris Madison!”
The cameraman zooms out, revealing that Chris Madison was standing just off screen. Dressed for action, Madison placed his hands on his hips and stoically stands, awaiting for Hartman to begin the interview.
HARTMAN: “Chris, thanks for taking the time out to allow me to throw a few questions your way.”
Chris nodded his head without saying a word.
HARTMAN: “Two weeks ago, you and Jair Hopkins put on a match to remember that ended with you picking up a win over a former 4CW Champion; but as two of 4CW’s most prolific wrestlers met in the ring, in a battle for the ages, another competitor waited in the wings for the opportune moment to strike.”
Hartman steps the side, standing shoulder to shoulder with Madison as the pair look at one of the television monitors.
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.
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!”

The feed cuts back, focusing on Madison’s reaction to the video that was just played for him. He bit his bottom lip, trying to maintain his composure before letting out a deep exhale through his nose.
HARTMAN: “I’m sure that was hard to watch. Since you’ve returned, Cyrus Riddle has had his sights set on you. We’ve seen you two compete against each other in a tag team match and also in WarGames at Fright Night. I’m sure the majority felt that it was going to end inside that cage, but here we are, watching him jump you from behind after one of your biggest wins in your 4CW career.”
MADISON: “Cute Gabe. All of this, it’s real cute. I know what you’re doin’. You’re lookin’ to stir the pot a bit before I go out there and force myself to tag with Cyrus.”
HARTMAN: “No. I’m just trying to give you a platform to express how it feels to be blindsided by someone who painted this picture of respect amongst two driven competitors.”
MADISON: “How do you think it feels? Cyrus proved to everyone that the side of him we saw leadin’ up to Fright Night was nothin’ but a facade and I’m pissed that I ever let my guard down long enough for him to get over on me again! He’s a snake; and I should have seen this comin’.”
HARTMAN: “Tonight, the two of you are tag team partners, facing the 4CW Tag Team Champions. Trust is obviously non existent at the moment; how are the two of you going to fare against Magnus Brutus and Brody Lee Prince?”
MADISON: “Now that’s a good question.”
Madison smirked as he reached up and scratched at the back of his head.
MADISON: “You know I don’t think there is a single person affiliated with 4CW that’s givin’ us a shot in hell to win this match. And if I’m bein’ completely honest, I don’t blame ‘em. After bein’ ambushed at the last Adrenaline, it’s hard for me to even imagine the two of us functionin’ as a cohesive team. I mean, what better opportunity is there for him to pull the wool over my eyes yet again? I can’t speak for him. But with everythin’ bein’ said, leadin’ up to this match, I’m more than willin’ to put our shit on hold in order to make Mr. Wrigley and the tag team chumps look like the fools that they are for even thinkin’ that pickin’ up a win over the two of us is goin’ to be a walk in the park. At no point in my 4CW career has it ever been easy to stand on the opposite side of the ring from me. Tonight is no different, with or without Cyrus Riddle watchin’ my back.”
HARTMAN: “Well you alluded to it, so I have to ask… Throughout the weeks there were a few exchanges between the two of you and Mr. Wrigley. What started off as confidence in his team quickly became him tap dancing around the idea of them putting the tag team championships on the line here tonight. As of now, nothing has been made official.”
MADISON: “…and it won’t be. Wrigley said that tonight is my funeral, that his boys were goin’ to be the ones to finish me off. Truth is, even he doesn’t believe that. Once he had the opportunity to put his money where his mouth is, he began to backpedal like the coward that he is. Magnus and Brody might be the top of the tag team division right now, but neither belong in the ring with me or Riddle!”
Madison bows his head for a moment and chuckles to himself.
MADISON: “All of this feels like one sick joke. I don’t know what’s goin’ to happen down the road between Riddle and I. We’re goin’ to have to settle this sooner rather than later. But tonight, thanks to Perry Wallace’s twisted sense of humor, we have to rely on each other to face the tag team champions with absolutely no benefit to us. Makes sense, right? Well, don’t forget what that conversation with Riddle before my match with Hopkins was about… Respect… Silencing Critics… Mr. Wrigley gave us all the fuel we needed to go out there and rip his clients to shreds. Limb by limb, joint by joint, Magnus and Brody are goin’ to have to endure the most excruciatin’ pain they’ve ever been dealt throughout their entire career. This is a fight they can’t win! From bell to bell, Riddle and I are goin’ to be a force that you don’t want to reckon with. After the match is over, back to business; and who knows what could happen!”
Madison stares through Hartman, telling him the interview was over without saying another word. He walks passed him, exiting the picture as the feed cuts away.


The camera returns back to ringside in the Capital One Arena where the fans of Washington, D.C have helped to sell out the arena. Panning around the interior of the arena, the camera shows different fans with their signs ready to enjoy the action tonight. Now the camera shifts over to Johnson and Vassa sat behind the announce table ready to call the next match.
JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Adrenaline and we have our next match right on the way. Andre Holmes will be looking to redeem himself again against Alioth Starre!”
VASSA: ”Who cares?! Who honestly cares?! Andre is a loser and forever will be a fucking loser! He can put on great matches, sure! Can he win? Obviously fucking not!”
JOHNSON: ”Alioth Starre has been on a downward spiral but has the mindset to keep fighting. A win over Andre Holmes will get back in the motions and help produce a well deserved victory on his record.”
VASSA: ”I don’t give a flying fuck! Andre Holmes is already inside the ring after he called out Alexis Mercer for our upcoming PPV, Winter Wasteland. He’s not looking too happy but let’s give it to Powers for the match introductions!”
Changing over to the ring, Andre Holmes in his corner not even moving. He’s extremely volatile at the moment and Powers begins with the match introductions.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall! Already in the ring; From Houston, Texas. At five feet, nine inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and one pounds. He is ‘Relentless’ ANDRE HHOOLLMMEESS!”

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 his opponent! Hailing from London, England! At five feet, ten inches tall, weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds. He is ‘Emporer Starre’ ALIOTH SSTTAARRRREE!!!”
Starr 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.
JOHNSON: ”Alioth Starre is looking to have a long overdue victory in 4CW while Andre Holmes might be looking for blood. Both men need a win tonight so let’s get this match underway!”

Before Alioth can even blink, Andre bursts out of his corner and sprints across the ring to Alioth in his corner. Lifting his right leg, he uproots it into the chin of his opponent with a yakuza kick. Alioth rolls down on his back and Holmes climbs up all the way to the top rope; Perched with his back facing his opponent, he leaps backwards flipping into a 450 degree motion flip before landing on top of Alioth with a phoenix splash. The referee slides down to the mat as Andre hooks up the right leg!

JOHNSON: ”No way….No way….”


“Relentless” by New Years Day replays around the entire interior of the arena.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner, ANDRE HHOOLLMMEESS!!!”
Andre gets back on his feet and stands in the center of the ring to get his arm raised by the referee. While the official checks on Alioth, Andre takes refuge standing on the middle turnbuckle in the corner and points down to all the fans behind the barricades at ringside.
JOHNSON: ”And Alioth needs his wheelchair!”

Cutting backstage Boston staggers wildly, a man who probably shouldn’t be going anywhere except back to the trainer’s room or a hospital somewhat determinedly in a hurry to get somewhere. Practically falling over himself, he reaches the doorway he thinks he needs, throwing himself through with a reckless abandon and leaving a trail of blood splatter in his wake as the stitches in his head struggle to stay closed.
In the locker room, The Distorted Angel looks more annoyed than surprised as she finishes tying the laces on her lime green converse sneaker, directly opposing the orange glitter one already on her other foot. For a man who’d endured that many chair shots, he does a great job getting to his feet rather quickly, trying to brush himself off and catch his breath, meanwhile Amber finds the empathy to at least cock an eyebrow in curiousity at the whole situation- it seems 4CW has a way of making people numb to the strangest of consequences… and rage quitting, but that’s kinda irrelevant for the moment..
BOSTON: “I made it…I fu- I fucking made it.”
Scratching the side of her face distractedly, Amber drags herself to her feet and moved towards the doorway where Boston props himself up.
RYAN: “Made what exactly… also hi, thanks for knocking.”
She judges the distance, trying to figure a way to possibly sidestep Boston whilst not getting blood on herself that she hasn’t technically earned.
BOSTON: “We didn’t- at the bar- FUCK ME!!! FUCK!!”
Clearly in pain, he white knuckles the door frame.
RYAN: “Yeah, that’s cause that shit tends to be socially inappropriate- I mean there was that one time, but I don’t think that’s really up for discussion at this point of time… Now if you don’t mind-”
Amber tries to step by Boston who seems completely oblivious to the fact Amber actually has a match to wrestle, for the possibility of Pride title contendership at that… which means it’s kinda important.
BOSTON: “Good God, I’m fucked up. Li- listen, we talk- we talked, we just- god damn it, fuck- we just didn’t really- fuck- didn’t really get to talk-talk, ya’- ya’ know?”
With an exasperated sigh, Amber places a hand on his shoulder- more a subtle albeit concerted effort to get him to move than anything else.
RYAN: “That’s real nice and all but-”
A failed attempt to squeeze through an impossible space is foiled by Boston adjusting is weight, likely without even meaning to foil her escape, another exasperated sigh leaves Amber infiltrated by a groan of annoyance.
BOSTON: “My God, I just went through some kind of hell, but I wanted to see you- to catch up with you, ya know, before your match. You wished me luck, or I think you wished me luck, or you said something nice at the bar, I don’t fuckin’ know, I just wanted to return the fa-”
Amber tries to hide her grimace of frustration behind a vaguely polite smile, it’s not the best effort but the redhead doesn’t have the patience for anything else.
RYAN: “And I really appreciate the thought but I-”
Boston wraps his arms around one another and dried blood flakes towards Amber’s general direction, left over from tears in his flesh that existed courtesy of Dakota Smith’s questionable fingernails. Releasing his grip, he holds his right arm up.
BOSTON: “But you’re…great. You’re just great and I know I may have seemed kinda off-”
A less than subtle attempt to step past is halted immediately by an oblivious Boston, clearly enjoying the conversation too much to realize what’s actually happening.
RYAN: “Yeah… off … that’s one way to put it- but my match-”
He throws his hands in the air.
BOSTON: “Your match?! Your match is important. Very important. But-”
RYAN: “Look- this has been real nice and all but I really have to get going Boston so if you could just… you know… move the fuck outta the way?”
With eyebrows raised, practically exhausted from the exchange alone, Amber sarcastically gestures sideways as if to prompt Boston further. Boston looks at her with slight bewilderment, mouth gaping open, blood trickling down his cheek, glassy eyes telling the tale of a probable concussion.
BOSTON: “For what?”
Facepalming and murmuring something under her breath about Boston being a fucking moron, or something of the like, Amber takes a deep breath in an effort not to explode.
RYAN: “My fucking match… You know, the one that’s like right now… for Pride title contendership- which happens to be pretty fucking important to me? Yeah, that one Boston.”
Boston woozily stands up straight and runs his right hand through his hair, parts of it matted with blood.
BOSTON: “Oh, yeah, the match. Pride. Pride. Pride’s important. Sounds important. Good uh, good lu-”
Boston doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and move completely out of the way before Amber slips through, partially brushing against Boston and streaking blood on her arm- she doesn’t notice though, too busy cussing Boston out under her breath before disappearing down the corridor in a hurry. Boston touches at the part of his arm she grazed as she bustled past and looks down the hallway after her, and watches, smiling brilliantly, if not moronically.


After a night of crazy matches, the audience of Washington D.C in the Capital One Arena are excited for another potential match of the night under card match. Aidan Carlisle versus Amber Ryan is scheduled up next which should be an amazing amount of action; The cameras cut over to Johnson and Vassa sat behind the announce table ready to call the action.
JOHNSON: ”Alright ladies and gentlemen, we are still on the under card but our next match features a former 4CW Tag Team Champion facing off against a former 4CW Pride Champion. That’s right. Aidan Carlisle will face off against Amber Ryan in singles competition for the right of bragging rights and maybe putting themselves closer to a future Pride Championship opportunity!”
VASSA: ”Oh fucking yeah! Two beautiful gorgeous ladies who have all the right in the world to be a champion! Beautiful and amazing; I might beat my meat to this match but no one would be lookin’ right?!”
JOHNSON: ”Right…anyhow. These two women have given their all inside the ring and the absence of championships have made them hungrier. Lucky for them this match could put them in Pride Championship contention. Amber Ryan and Aidan Carlisle are on the verge of becoming future main eventers. Tonight might prove who deserves their foot through the door first!”
VASSA: ”Fuckin’ hell! I need them through my hotel door now! The time has come for Vassa to make his move on the ladies of 4CW. However, let’s get this match started! Take it away Powers. I swear he looks like a mothafuckin’ oompa loompa in that suit!”

POWERS: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall!”
It’s the tinkling of the eerie music box that brings the lights down, the crowd murmuring with anticipation, as slowly and silently the big screens seems to crack one by one. Shadows lurk curiously, distorted by the cracks as an almost mechanical synth leads into the stutter of heavy guitar.

Red lights pulse in time as the lights flicker erratically casting light and dark chaotically, the mechanical synth returns as a female silhouette materializes amid the pulsating red and dark to a mixed reaction. Most cheer in appreciation of the show that they’re about to witness but many jeer due to her previous affiliations and general devil-just-doesn’t-give-a-fuck attitude.
POWERS: ”Introducing first! Hailing from Atlantic City, New Jersey! At five feet, eight inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and forty-two pounds. She is ‘Distorted Angel’ AMBER RRYYAANN!!!”
Maria Brink’s almost taunting, sarcastic lyrics lead the ‘Distorted Angel’ down as fans look for acknowledgement, extending hands and waving signs but most receive little more than a sharp nod or sly wink for their efforts. She circles the ring, messing with whichever ring crew and staff that happen to be within vicinity before methodically and deliberately sliding beneath the bottom rope and crossing to one of the far corners.
VASSA: ”Look at my baby girl strut her stuff! Legs lookin’ good, body lookin’ good, face lookin’ good. She has every right to be the Pride Champion and she deserves shot at Winter Wasteland!”
“Baby go ahead
I’ll be your hatred and your pain
This is killing us all
I don’t care if I fall
We’re the dying, we are the damned”

Climbing the turnbuckle left handed, she watches out over the crowd to gauge the reaction, returning the mixed reaction with an acknowledging nod of her own before somewhat turning awkwardly on the spot and taking a seat upon the top turnbuckle.
JOHNSON: ”The former 4CW Pride Champion has been showing a vicious side to her personality. Expressing her desire over the championship has truly shown in her improved performances in the ring and tonight could be the deciding factor into her rematch!
“I know I don’t belong in this scene
Sex metal barbie, homicidal queen.”

With hands clasped and elbows resting on her knees- that familiar Distorted Angel smirk ever present across her face as she waits for the fun to really begin.

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: ”Introducing her opponent! Hailing from Hell’s Kitchen, New York! At five feet, eight inches tall, weighing in at one hundred and 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.
JOHNSON: ”Aidan Carlisle. Ever since her return, she’s been on a worldwide sensation of gaining back her glory. A great competitor in the ring and a veteran as well. Aidan has had enough and wants to be at the top of the mountain; A win over Amber Jaye proves exactly that!”
“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.
VASSA: ”My God! These women are making my blood boil down south! I have no words left to say except: Aidan Carlisle versus Amber Ryan! Here we go!”

Both women leave their corners simultaneously and circle the ring at equal distance. Keeping close to the ropes, they come up with quick strategies and game plans before stepping into the center of the ring. They lock up in a traditional collar and elbow tie up; A temporary stalemate as neither woman budges. Suddenly, Amber locks in the side headlock. Torquing her right arm around her opponent’s head, she keeps Carlisle stable in the center of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”This is called the feeling out process. Amber Jaye and Aidan Carlisle are testing the waters. They want to get the upper hand on each other in not only the physical war but the psychological war as well.”
Aidan manages to pull her opponent back into the ropes and the spring off the canvas allows her to push Amber off to the ropes ahead of her. Rebounding back down into Aidan, she slams her opponent down with a shoulder barge leaving Carlisle on her back. Ryan charges into the ropes beside her, rebounds, hops over Aidan’s back until to repeat the process again to get thrown down onto the mat from an arm drag!

Amber lands down on the canvas and gets back up again. She attempts to clothesline her opponent down but Aidan takes the thrown arm and arm drags her down once again. Frustrated by the two failed attempts, Amber gets up again but eats a high dropkick powering her through the ropes all the way down to the ringside mat. Ryan crashes onto it but eventually gets back on her feet; Unfortunately, when she turns around, Aidan Carlisle dives through the top and middle rope crashing her body into Amber’s thus finishing a great suicide dive!

VASSA: ”Aidan Carlisle is on fire tonight! Arm Drags, Dropkicks, Suicide Dives! There is nothing that little sweet ass can’t do…except for me. Please be mine Aidan! Fuck me all night bay bay!”
Before the referee can begin the count, Aidan manages to roll her opponent inside the ring. She gets up on the apron and holds onto the top rope with both hands. The moment Amber gets back up, Carlisle leaps onto the top rope, springboards across the ring and floors Amber right off the mat with a springboard side kick into her forehead! She crashes down onto her back leaving Carlisle to go on top of her and hook the leg up!

JOHNSON: ”Springboard Side Kick straight into the face! Amber didn’t see that one coming and Aidan going for the first pin fall attempt of the match!”

Amber kicks out! Aidan slowly gets back up on her feet and helps Ryan back up to her feet. She holds onto her right arm before launching her into an unoccupied corner. With her back slammed against the turnbuckles, Aidan charges into her but Amber ducks under the thrown right arm having Carlisle in the corner. She eats a yakuza kick knocking her down onto her ass before Amber runs to the ropes behind her, rebounds and drops a powerful running knee into her chin!

JOHNSON: ”Holy moly! A Yakuza Kick followed by a Running Knee Strike in the corner! Amber has completely changed the outcome of this match in her favor! And now she’s just dropping elbows in that ground and pound position! Dear God!”
In the middle of the ring, Amber is on top and raining elbows down on a guarded Aidan protecting her face. She stands up and drags Aidan back up to her feet; A quick right knee into the ribs has Carlisle bent over and in an exposed position. Amber runs to the ropes at the side, rebounds back to her and flips over her opponent while having the neck in her grasp for a crazy corkscrew neckbreaker! After they both land on the canvas, she goes on top to hook the leg up!

VASSA: ”Corkscrew Neckbreaker! Aidan’s neck nearly gave out from the impact of the blow and now it’s Amber’s time to get a pin attempt of her own!”

No! She kicks out and Amber isn’t really pleased. She quickly takes the right arm in her grasp, lies down on her back, locks her legs around the right arm thus implying the cross arm breaker submission hold! Pulling back on the wrist thus adding more torque, Aidan screams out in the hold. She doesn’t hold much mercy for her opponent stuck in the submission; Amber keeps moving her body around thus adding more pain to that targeted limb.

VASSA: ”Nothing better than seeing two women in some sick bondage, right Johnson?!”
Just when Amber think it’s over, Aidan manages to roll on her knees then stand up on her feet bend over. She dead lifts Amber on top of her shoulders into a powerbomb position but Amber drops down behind her. Spinning around, Amber lands a strong enguiziri kick into her Carlisle’s temple knocking her back down into the ropes. She charges into her but Aidan trips her thus her ropes catches onto the middle before Carlisle runs into the ropes ahead of her, rebounds and swings her body around between the middle and top rope to hit the 619!

VASSA: ”Six-One-Nine! BOOYAKA, BOOYAKA! …Why did I say that?”
Amber is blown back so bad, she flies into the center of the ring. Aidan has the top rope then leaps onto it as Ryan managed to get back up again. Springboarding across the ring, she latches her arm around Amber’s head and spikes her head on the canvas with a flying swinging DDT! Amber rolls over onto the mat and stands on her knees while Aidan gets up. She runs to her, leaps right off the mat with her legs wrapped around her neck before smashing her forehead against the canvas with a hurricanrana driver!


Amber kicks out before the hand can even touch the mat. Aidan hops up and down on the mat, hyping herself up as her opponent is struggling to stand up. The moment she does, Aidan runs into the ropes behind her, rebounds then ducks under the right arm thrown to try and float over her opponent. Amber spins out of the piledriver position before landing a sick knee strike hunching her over. Back turned, she underhooks both arms, spins over and hoists her upside down before sitting on the canvas thus giving Carlisle a vertebreaker!

Upon landing on the back of her head, Aidan stands on her knees from the recoil of the impact. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have any time to react as Amber quickly locks her head underneath her right arm before underhooking both arms. She kicks back and snaps down onto her back thus spiking the head of her opponent off the mat. Aidan rolls over onto her back and Amber holds the leg desperately wanting the win!


“Sex Metal Barbie” by In This Moment replays around the interior of the arena. Amber gets back to her feet, much slower than the start of the match, but the victory was well earned. Her right arm held and raised by the referee before she goes over to a corner, climbs to the middle turnbuckle and enjoys the praise of the entire audience while the referee checks on Aidan.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner, AMBER RRYYAANN!!!”
JOHNSON: ”Amber Ryan once again showing why she deserves to be the 4CW Pride Champion! Aidan Carlisle put up a great fight but Amber had the upper hand. Congratulations to Amber and her conquest to regain the 4CW Pride Championship!”
VASSA: ”She’ll have her chance to compete for the spot to face Kimitsu at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s right! She’ll go on to face the winner between Jair Hopkins and Jett Wilder later tonight.”

Cut to the back stage area of the Capital One Arena.
There is a long buffet table set-up which is covered with a very nice navy blue velvet table top, on it are various types of food and buckets filled with bottles of water — because of the 4CW drug policy, there is no drinking allowed at these things, am I right? Standing at the far end is a very disappointed looking Christopher J. Wrigley who has a plate of food in his hands, a plastic fork sticks out of a lump of something on his plate.
WRIGLEY: “And this catering sucks too! Should have gotten some chicken wings or something like that…”
Wrigley looks around for a couple of other items, even begins to spoon more of the potato salad onto his plate.
WRIGLEY: “…actually, this potato salad isn’t too goddamn bad.”
A couple of scoops later and he stops moving further down the line where he is standing near some of the plates. His face goes from disappointment to utter confusion as he looks upon the red jello mold.
WRIGLEY: “What the hell is this? Who puts fruit in the jello these days? I should sue somebody. Seriously, someone’s getting their ass sued for putting strawberries in the damn jello.”
Just then Brody Lee Prince walks up from behind, he is mostly dressed into his ring gear and is wearing a shirt and has a mostly clean plate of food in his hands.
PRINCE: “What’s your problem tonight?”
Wrigley shakes his head and blurts.
WRIGLEY: “Nothing!”
Wrigley slams his fork down into his plate in attempt to show some sort of rage or anger. Brody Lee points to something on the end of the table.
PRINCE: “Just don’t sue the marshmallow thing over there. That’s pretty damn good.”
Wrigley and his plate of food walks over a little way aways from the buffet table to where Magnus Brutus is sitting in a chair. Magnus is smoking a cigarette and paying little attention to Wrigley, Brody Lee continues to stuff his face with a piece of bread. The Hostile Takeover are rocking the tag team title belts and that’s all that counts. Wrigley begins.
WRIGLEY: “Tonight is the night, boys. Tonight starts the real takeover here in 4CW. Tonight we begin to play by our rules, Wrigley Rules. Anything goes, anything. If you Magnus want to take a chair and wrap it around the damn skull of Chris Madison, well then wrap a damn chair around his head and for good measure use a second!
If you Brody Lee want take that camera cord and tie it around the feet of Cyrus RIddle and then string him up like a pinata? Guess what? Feel free to do that. I’ll pick up a cane and beat the living shit out of him. Why?
Because it’s Wrigley’s Rules!”
He yells that last part. Brody Lee nods his head, Magnus continues to just do whatever Magnus wants to do.
WRIGLEY: “If you want to pick a chainsaw up and go find one of your ex-wives and use that to chop her up into smaller pieces than the pieces here in this goddamn tasty potato salad and then take those little pieces of her and throw them one by fucking one into JFK’s eternal flame until they burn up to nothingness disproving the scientific principal that matter cannot be created or destroyed!
Well… you can’t do that, because that’s illegal.
However, you can think about doing that because Wrigley Rules!”
Brody Lee looks a little confused as Wrigley stops his ranting and raving for a couple of seconds. Wrigley looks like he’s been through a couple of rounds with Ali as he’s out of breath and red in the face. Just the Brody Lee taps him on the shoulder.
PRINCE: “Is this about Shan–”
Wrigley stops him dead in his tracks and turns towards Brody Lee cutting him off mid-word.
WRIGLEY: “Don’t even say her name! If you say her name, she’s going to appear like a demon and demand some of my hard earned money.
She’ll show up, I swear to God. Just ever say her name.
Wrigley pauses and puts his plate of potato salad down on the table which prompts Magnus to stab it with the remains of his cigarette as he begins to lace his boots up. Wrigley doesn’t even notice as he turns back towards Brody Lee.
PRINCE: “I forget is that ex-wife one or two?”
WRIGLEY: “One. The mother of dragons herself, the pit of despair, the daywalker, the most unclean… evil incarnate herself.”
Wrigley and Brody Lee have a bit of staredown as Wrigley finishes. He’s damn near shaking in fear right now, and that’s when Magnus just seems to notice what the two are talking about.
BRUTUS: “Who, Shanice?”
Wrigley spins around, his eyes are wide open, his jaw is on the floor. His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, there’s vomit on his sport coat already, mom’s potato salad.
Just then his cell phone begins to go off. Pale as a ghost, Wrigley slowly reaches into his pocket as we fade to black.

Cutting to the ring, the crowd is pleasantly surprised to hear “Lions Below” begin to play. The arrival of Bryan Williams is near, as the main event of the night draws closer. The strong backing sound of the drums fills the arena, as “Lions Below” begins to play. With the song beginning it’s melodic tune, the crowd cheers for the arrival of Bryan Williams. The song quickly kicks in, the backing sample playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song, the crowd quickly gets into the song as they wait for Bryan’s arrival. The song continues to play for a few more moments, the beat settling out into a flat section.
“Glad you’re gone
You’ll never hear me say
That I’ll need you here to watch me
Watch me walk away…”

The song quickly picks up again, as Bryan walks out from the back head held down low. 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.
JOHNSON: ”Bryan’s got something to say, we usually don’t see him out here.”
VASSA: ”Nah, he mostly hangs out in the back. Gives Hartman an interview, what a nice guy. You know that Gabe is still homeless?”
JOHNSON: ”We need to look in on Perry fixing that. Hartman is exclusive to 4CW, maybe that new contract stuff can help him.”
VASSA: ”Eh, probably not.”
Bryan makes his way to the ring, walking at a brisk pace towards the ring. He doesn’t waste much time getting into the ring, walking up the steel steps and climbing in through the top and middle rope. Bryan stands there in the ring, microphone in hand as he waits for his music to die down. Soon enough it does, as the crowd settles down for him to speak.
WILLIAMS: ”Well, it certainly seems like I’m in an interesting situation here tonight.”
Bryan says, chuckling to himself.
WILLIAMS: ”These things happen though, sometimes you’re put in a tough spot. You find yourself in a situation that you would not rather be in. I was happy to see Persephone win that contract, to face the 4CW Champion at Winter Wasteland. I knew though that as soon as that happened, she would be facing Bronx.”
The crowd cheers, at the mention of his name and his victory over Mariano Fernandez at Fright Night. Bryan nods his head, continuing to speak.
WILLIAMS: ”Now, she doesn’t need my help at all, even though I’ve offered it. That being said, I know that it would be better for me to stay out of the way. Let them just fight it out, and watch what happens. Bronx is still my friend, and Persephone is my girlfriend. So, of course, Wallace immediately uses that to his advantage. He makes a hell of a tag match, and sticks me right in the middle. Now yours truly is the special guest referee, appreciate that Perry.”
Bryan pauses again, thinking for a moment.
WILLIAMS: ”Now, I expected there to be some words said. Tossed around, because that’s the nature of our business. I was going to take my shots, I understood that. My job tonight is to be impartial, and not get involved. But then I saw what Ana had to say…”
The crowd begins to murmur, Anastasia Hayden having some choice words for Bryan before this match tonight.
WILLIAMS: ”It’s no secret of our past, friends that dated. We broke up, and I beat her in Japan. I beat her here in 4CW, and somehow it’s still my fault. I’ve tried to move on, and get over it, but Ana continues to harbor this grudge against me. I heard what she had to say, and I’m not really surprised. Bitterness was always a thing about Ana, it was just something you’d get used to. She can claim that she doesn’t care all she wants about me being involved in this match, but I know better. I know how angry it makes her, that she still can’t shake my shadow.”
Bryan pauses.
WILLIAMS: ”So, for the sake of being impartial. I want to tell you all tonight that I will call this match right down the middle. I will do my best to make it enjoyable, and fair for both sides. Despite Ana’s spiteful attitude. Her continued morose attitude towards me will not play into this match. I will do my best to give you all something enjoyable here tonight.”
The crowd cheers, as Bryan gives them a nod. He doesn’t seem to be finished, however.
WILLIAMS: ”That being said, Ana. You continue to come for me, and there will be problems. Your petulant behavior can only be tolerate for so long. So keep my name, and Persephone’s name out of your mouth. Or I’ll have to put you down in this ring yet again.”
With that, Bryan drops his microphone, as “Lions Below” begins to play again. His message coming across loud and clear, he quickly exits the ring as he heads towards the back.
JOHNSON: ”Seems like a bit of resentment there from Bryan, clearly there is still something unfinished between these two.”
VASSA: ”You’re right, but I just hope that Bryan can do his job properly here tonight!”


POWERS: ”The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!”
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’ and ‘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.
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. 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 from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet tall, “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.
JOHNSON: ”Just two weeks ago we watched Cyrus Riddle put down Chris Madison to end the show. Tonight, they’re going to be partners.”
VASSA: ”Things have been heating up for them since Madison came back to 4CW. They had their back and forth leading to Fright Night where they both competed in WarGames. Now they’ve continued this rivalry as we head to Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: ”Madison claims that these two are going to work as a cohesive unit here tonight but given recent events, I don’t know if I’m willing to buy that.”
VASSA: ”I don’t think you have to, Steve. Chris is a man of his word and has an objective for tonight and that’s defeating the 4CW Tag Team Champions.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s a big task to accomplish. The Hostile Takeover is a legit team. They have defeated legit teams. Madison and Riddle are more enemies than anything. I’m still scratching my head at how these two are going to work together like they claim they will.”
The screen goes black.
Not the lights in the arena turning off or something like that, no. The entire Showtime broadcast of this wrestling program goes black for a couple of seconds. With a couple of blinks of white of the television something is still taking place, a second later and a couple of shots of an army of men in black ski masks can be seen inter-spliced within the black screen, along with shots of the tag team champions the Hostile Takeover as the opening notes of “Body Count’s in the House” by Body Count begins to play. The feed to the show suddenly comes back with the police sirens blaring loudly and standing on the entrance ramp is none other than the Hostile Takeover bathed in white light as the rest of the arena remains in complete darkness.
POWERS: ”And the opponents!”
Brody Lee Prince has the 4CW tag team title slung over his shoulder complete with his black stetson hat over his menacing gaze. Next to him is the shorter, but wider Magnus Brutus who drops the last of a cigarette to the ground and stomps it out, he too has his 4CW tag team championship belt up and over his shoulder as well. However, in front of both of them is none other than Christopher J. Wrigley. Wrigley is wearing his standard navy blue suit with a bright colored tie, however, around his waist 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.
POWERS: ”Taking over at this time, lead to the ring by their manager Christopher J. Wrigley at a combined weight of five hundred and twenty pounds that will be used to step on your throats… they are your 4CW Tag Team Champions of the WORRRRRRRRRRRRRLDDD, they are the HOSTILE TTAAKKEEOOVVEERR!!!”
Slowly the lights to the arena begin to come back up as the police siren and music continue to blast out over the PA system, Wrigley leads the duo down towards the ring stopping every couple of steps to threaten some of the fans with legal action for attempting to touch him or the tag team champions. Brody Lee hits the ring first as Magnus makes his way up the ring steps. Brody Lee stands on the middle ropes and tosses his chaw to the floor as Magnus climbs up onto the ring apron and sneers in everyone’s direction. Wrigley has a huge grin on his face as he points directly into a camera and says “Time to increase the body count” a couple of times. He then tells the camera to get out of his face before he sues him.
VASSA: ”That is one impressive looking belt.”
JOHNSON: ”The Tag Team Championships do look rather good, don’t they?”
VASSA: ”They’re alright. I’m talking about that custom championship Wrigley has! It even spins!”
JOHNSON: ”You’re so easily distracted. It’s literally the same design with a few upgrades and what the kids call bling.”
VASSA: ”Please don’t ever speak like that again. Thank you.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s been quite a lot of talk regarding those championships as well. Although Cyrus and Madison are enemies, they’ve pushed to make tonight’s match for the championships all because of one person.”
VASSA: ”Wrigley. Big mouth Wrigley stirring the pot.”
JOHNSON: ”Watch out now. You better be careful what you say about him.”
VASSA: ”Oh that’s right, he’ll sue. I take that back. He is just plain Wrigley with a normal size mouth.”
With a huge championship belt of his own, Wrigley relieves his clients from their titles, placing one over each of his shoulders. He doesn’t look comfortable with the added weight as he slowly climbs down from the apron and steps down onto the floor. Waving over a member of the ringside crew, Wrigley manages to get some assistance in removing the belts from his shoulders. Not removing his own belt, Wrigley pats it a few times, making sure the ringside crew member and everyone in the front row looks at it.
Inside the ring, Brody and Magnus discuss a game plan amongst themselves. Across the ring, Cyrus and Madison stand apart, keeping to themselves and staring across the ring at their opponents. As the official walks to the center of the ring, Madison looks to Riddle, giving him a nod before stepping through the ropes and out onto the apron. Brody then points to Magnus with both index fingers before slapping his shoulders in an attempt to pump the old timer up. With Brody exiting the ring, Magnus is left inside, standing across from Riddle. The official then checks in with both corners and once he gets the okay from both, he quickly signals for the bell.

As the bell silences, Magnus and Riddle exit their corners, slowly making their way to the center of the ring where they then begin to circle one another. Locking up, Magnus quickly overpowers Riddle, backing him up to the ropes where he then pulls his right hand away and throws a vicious punch, connecting with what he likes to call a meat hook. Riddle’s head whips to the side as a mouthful of spit launches from his mouth and out into the first few rows in the crowd. Magnus then draws back for another. Swinging harder than before, he misses as Cyrus ducks his head and then pops it up, planting it underneath Magnus’ chin. Magnus stumbles backwards a couple of steps, allowing Cyrus to regain his footing and strike. Stepping in, Cyrus hits Magnus with a European uppercut that barely moves his head. Cyrus then hits him with a second European uppercut, still barely moving his head upon impact. Taking a step back and then forward, Cyrus hits Magnus with a third European uppercut, this time knocking his head back and forcing him to look up at the lights.
The light temporarily blinds Magnus, giving Cyrus the opening to step behind Magnus. He hooks one arm underneath Magnus and then goes for the second to lock in a full nelson. Pulling his arm away forward, Magnus then slams it back, hitting Cyrus in the mouth with a stiff elbow. Turning around as fast as the old timer can, Magnus gains some momentum as he throws another right with all of his weight behind it. His fist collides into Cyrus’ face, knocking the Englishman back a step. Lowering his head, Magnus then bursts forward, ramming the top of his head into Cyrus’ face and knocking him down to one knee. Stepping forward, Magnus lifts his leg up and drives a knee into Cyrus’ face, knocking him flat on his back. After a few stomps to Cyrus’ mid-section, Magnus then jumps up as high as he can, not very high considering his age, and comes down onto Cyrus’ chest with a double foot stomp!
Pulling Cyrus up to his feet, Magnus then whips him to the corner where Brody looks on from the apron. Just as Cyrus slams into it back first, Magnus is right behind him, charging in and hitting him across the throat with a clothesline. He then makes the tag with Brody before pulling Cyrus away from the corner and holding his head down. On the outside, Brody climbs the corner and once he makes it to the top, he then climbs down to the middle ropes. Brody feeling a bit better about his positioning, he then jumps down and hits Cyrus over the back with a double axe-handle, knocking him down to all fours. Magnus leaves the ring, exiting to the apron as Brody slowly pulls Cyrus back to his feet. Holding Cyrus by the head with both hands, Brody walks him over to the corner where he then presses Cyrus face down to the top rope. Keeping his face pressed against the rope, Brody then drags him from one end of the ring to the other, giving him a nasty rope burn along the way.
JOHNSON: ”The Hostile Takeover is off to a nice start having controlled everything for the most part.”
VASSA: ”They’ve already had one tag, keeping Cyrus in the ring this whole time and slowly working on him.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s all about teamwork and together they are slowly wearing him down.”
Pulling Cyrus’ head up from the rope, Brody then slams it forward towards the turnbuckle. Grabbing ahold of the ropes on each side of the corner, Cyrus manages to stop his head within inches of crashing into the turnbuckle. Brody then pulls it away and slams it forward again, this time harder than before. Again, Cyrus saves himself from the head on collision by grabbing the ropes and pushing himself away from the corner. He then slams an elbow back into Brody’s stomach, forcing him to let go as his breath is knocked away. Grabbing Brody by the head, Cyrus then slams him down face first onto the turnbuckle. Positioning himself beside Brody, Cyrus grabs ahold of him before dropping him backwards to the mat with a Russian leg sweep.
Climbing over top of Brody, Cyrus then begins laying into him with lefts and rights before locking onto him and holding him in place. Moving over to the side of Brody, Cyrus begins hitting him with back to back knees before pushing himself up and then hitting him in the same spot with repeated knee drops. Pulling Brody up from the mat, he then locks his arm behind his back and walks him over to his corner where Madison stands on the outside apron. Throwing Brody forward into the corner, Cyrus then rushes in behind him, hitting him in the back of the head with a running elbow smash. He then looks to Madison and the two pause for a moment, awkwardly staring at one another before snapping out of it and making a tag. Madison enters the ring and steps in front of Riddle. They stand face to face as the crowd begins growing louder and louder, expecting the inevitable to happen.
VASSA: ”This is what you’ve been waiting for all night isn’t it Steve?”
JOHNSON: ”There’s definitely some tension there between those two.”
VASSA: ”After what happened at the end of out last show, I’m surprised these two haven’t already beaten each other into bloody messes.”
Cyrus and Madison continue standing face to face, in silence, as they stare into each others eyes. Nearly a minute passes as everyone is on the edge of their seats waiting for fists to begin flying in all directions. While those two are occupied with each other, Brody begins to come to his senses. He pulls his head up from over the top of the turnbuckle and stands straight up, unaware of what could possibly break out just inches behind him.
VASSA: ”Are these two going to kiss or what?”
JOHNSON: ”What? No! No, no, no. They’re testing each other. Seeing who can remain focu–“
Finally showing signs of movement, Madison whips his arm around, passing by Cyrus’ face as he turns and plants his palm on the back of Brody’s head, slamming his head down and face onto the turnbuckle!
JOHNSON: ”Oh, Brody!”
VASSA: ”Holy shit! I thought he was about to punch Cyrus!”
Madison then focuses solely on Brody, pulling him away from the corner as Cyrus shrugs his shoulders and exits onto the apron. Locking in a half nelson, Madison then lifts Brody off his feet before dropping him on his head with a half nelson suplex! Brody’s legs fold over before he rolls over to his side completely out of it. Back on his feet, Madison doesn’t waste any time and gets right to work. Pulling Brody up from the mat, he ducks down and wraps him up before lifting him up and over, dropping him on his back with a northern lights suplex. Madison bridges it as the official races and slides in beside them with the count.

VASSA: ”Magnus just broke it up with a massive boot to the back of Madison’s head!”
Instantly, Cyrus dips through the ropes and races across the ring where he catches Magnus by surprise with a solid right to the side of the neck. Magnus then whips around, throwing a right of his own, connecting with another meat hook to Cyrus head. The two then begin exchanging lefts and rights as the official attempts to pry himself between them. Realizing that he isn’t going to break it up that way, the official then begins his five count as both men work themselves across the ring beating the hell out of each other.
“One! … Two!”

Connecting with another meat hook, Magnus knocks Cyrus into the ropes.

Swinging with another meat hook, Magnus misses as Cyrus ducks underneath. Magnus’ body falls into Cyrus as Cyrus stands up, lifting Magnus off his feet and over the top rope. Falling down to the outside, Magnus crashes hard.

Climbing through the ropes, Cyrus exits onto the apron, ending the officials five count.
Across the ring, Madison has gotten back to his feet and is in the process of pulling Brody up from the mat. Locking onto his wrist, he goes to throw Brody to the ropes but instead, Brody reverses and sends Madison to the ropes. As Madison hits the ropes and comes back on the return, Brody jumps up and hits him square in the chest with a drop kick, knocking Madison back into the ropes. Pushing himself up instantly, Brody prepares himself as Madison bounces back in his direction. Lifting Madison in the air while locking onto his wrist with one hand, Brody then hits him with a reverse atomic drop. As Madison falls back, Brody then pulls him into a short-arm clothesline, knocking him flat on his back!
Pulling Madison up from the mat, Brody holds him in place as he connects with back to back punches from his free hand. Lifting Madison up into the air, he then carries him over one shoulder as he charges towards a corner. Just as he gets within distance, Brody goes to throw Madison forward into the corner but Madison slips out of his hold and drops down behind him. Pushing Brody in the back, Madison sends him stumbling forward and crashing into the corner. Brody’s head smacks the turnbuckle but he instantly turns around and throws a wild swing at Madison’s head. Ducking underneath it, Madison counters with a solid punch to the stomach, forcing Brody to lunge over.
Madison then lunges forward to lock onto Brody but is suddenly stopped in his tracks as Magnus from the outside reaches underneath the bottom ropes and pulls his legs out from under him. Falling backwards, Madison’s head slams against the mat, giving Brody an opportunity to begin stomping on Madison’s mid-section. Climbing through the ropes, Magnus then begins to stomp on Madison as well. The official attempts to pull Magnus away but is easily knocked to the side as Magnus pushes him away with his arm. From the other side of the ring, Riddle slides inside and pops to his feet. Rushing to the two on one stomp fest, Riddle grabs Brody by the hair and drags him away from Magnus’ side. With everyone in the ring, the official begins to panic as he has lost control of the match, failing to even begin a five count.
JOHNSON: ”Here we go! All Hell has broken loose inside of the ring!”
VASSA: ”It was going to happen eventually. We just figured it would be Cyrus and Madison throwing down instead.”
Magnus slams his foot down to Madison’s chest, only to have it locked between Madison’s hands. Pulling Magnus’ leg out from under him, Madison brings the big man down to the mat where the two then begin exchanging blows while down.
JOHNSON: ”We have two separate fights on opposite sides of the ring!”
VASSA: ”The official doesn’t even know where to begin with reclaiming order in this madness.”
With Madison and Magnus both down, the official drops to his knees and begins forcing himself in between the two, paying no mind to the opposite side of the ring. Brody grabs onto Cyrus, pulling him in to a knee shot to the stomach, dropping him to his knees. On the outside, Wrigley slides one of the Tag Team Championships into the ring at Brody’s feet. Wrigley begins screaming for Brody to pick it up and put Cyrus down. Picking the championship up, Brody holds it in both hands, looking down at it in front of Cyrus still down with the breath knocked out of him.
Giving up in his attempt to break up Magnus and Madison, the official stands to his feet and turns to look across the ring where he sees Riddle down and Brody holding the belt. Rushing over, the official grabs Brody’s shoulder from behind. Unsure of what’s behind him, Brody quickly spins around and levels the official over the head with the championship.

JOHNSON: ”This has gotten out of hand!”
From behind, Madison blindsides Brody, knocking the belt out of his hands and sending him crashing into the corner. Madison then pulls Cyrus up from the mat and to his feet.
VASSA: ”Here comes the fight we’ve all been waiting for!”
Madison and Riddle stare at one another for a half a minute but feels like an eternity. Riddles attention is then grabbed as he spots Magnus rushing in behind Madison. Stepping past Madison, Riddle stops Magnus in his feet with a haymaker to the side of the dome. Magnus then swings and connects with another meat hook! The two begin to pound each other’s faces with their fists as the entire building erupts. From behind, Brody tackles Madison to the mat and begins hitting him on the shoulders with rapid lefts and rights. Climbing onto the apron, Wrigley begins yelling out orders, commanding his clients how to strike as if he were a war general.
VASSA: ”We have lost all control of the match ladies and gentlemen!”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t care if I get sued or not. I’m blaming that man on the apron.”
VASSA: ”Wrigley?”
Finally gaining position on top of Madison, Brody begins hitting him with right elbows over and over. Out of nowhere, Madison locks an arm around his head and pulls him down, slamming the top of Brody’s head against the canvas. Meanwhile, Magnus and Riddle continue to beat the life out of each other, both drawing blood from the other. Pulling himself away from Brody, Madison pushes himself up to his feet. Brody quickly climbs to his as well.
Both Madison and Brody connect with punches to Madison and Riddle, knocking them backwards to the center of the ring. Backing away from their attackers, Madison and Riddle’s backwards movements come to a stop as their backs touch. Tossing the other championship over and across the ring, Wrigley delivers it to Magnus who catches it with ease. Brody quickly picks up his half of the championships. Now both members of The Hostile Takeover have championships in their hands with Madison and Riddle surrounded in the center of the ring.
VASSA: ”This doesn’t look too good for Madison and Cyrus.”
JOHNSON: ”It would if they at least had some weapons of their own to even the odds.”
VASSA: ”Maybe Wrigley will let them borrow his big ass championship he had made for himself.”
Madison and Riddle remain back to back as they brace themselves for an attack from The Hostile Takeover with the championships in hand. Magnus and Brody inch closer and closer, gripping their titles tightly in their hands, eager to attack.
JOHNSON: ”What’s Wrigley doing?!”
Wrigley climbs halfway through the ropes, eyeing the official as he slowly begins to come to his senses. He then enters completely and rushes to Brody, grabbing the championship belt away from him. Running to the other side of the ring, Wrigley snatches Magnus’ championship away. He then bolts for the ropes but just as he reaches them, the official begins waving his hand while up to his knees and calling for the bell.

VASSA: ”Did he just call for the bell? Is it over?”
JOHNSON: ”I think this has just been declared a no contest.”
Stopping in his tracks, Wrigley begins to cuss loudly as he kicks the bottom rope. Magnus and Brody group at Wrigley’s side as Madison and Riddle remain in their place at the center of the ring. Slowly, the official climbs to his feet as everyone looks on.
VASSA: ”I can’t believe the match is being declared a no contest.”
JOHNSON: ”Chaos erupted and all control was thrown out of the window. This isn’t a match anymore. It turned into a brawl.”
The official limps his way in between both parties, holding his palm over his head where the belt made contact. Acting innocent, Wrigley begins to plead the case for his clients as if he were in a court room. Madison and Riddle begin to argue from the other side of the official, pleading their case as well. After nearly a minute of arguing back and forth, the official finally points to Brody and begins laying into him for the attack with the championship. He then signals one hand over his throat as if saying “cut it” and then points to the booth on top of the stage and signals for the bell once more.

JOHNSON: ”I’m not exactly sure what’s happening to be honest.”
Wrigley becomes furious as Brody and Magnus are displeased as well. Across from them, Madison and Cyrus look to each other in confusion.
The official walks to the ropes and says something to a member of the ringside crew member, sending him racing to the top of the ramp and over to Powers at the booth.
VASSA: ”I think we’re about to get the official announcement that this match is a no contest.”
JOHNSON: ”Wrigley and The Hostile Takeover are angry. Cyrus and Madison have no idea what’s going on at the moment. Guess what? Neither do I?”
Moments of confusion consume the ring and entire arena for that matter. Finally making it to powers’ booth, he is given the word from the official as everyone patiently awaits.
POWERS: ”Ladies and gents, folks, we have come to a final decision.”
Taking his time with the announcement, Powers’ drags it out, leaving everyone in suspense for nearly a minute.
Wrigley begins stomping his feet against the mat as Brody and Magnus begin arguing with one another before turning their attention to Wrigley and arguing at him for his brilliant plan backfiring. The official steps in between Madison and Riddle, grabbing each of their arms and raising them into the air. Ripping his arm away from the official, Madison waves everyone off before turning his back to it all and exiting the ring. As Madison makes his way up the ramp, Riddle looks on.
VASSA: ”Disqualification. Can he sue for that?”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t know. But hitting the official with a foreign object is never a good thing in the match.”
VASSA: ”Wrigley is hot!”
JOHNSON: ”He should be. Madison and Riddle did exactly what they said they were going to do. It may have been a little bumpy along the way but they put their differences aside for just tonight and are walking away with the victory.”
To draw the attention elsewhere, Wrigley begins pointing at Riddle and yelling for The Hostile Takeover to finish him. Handing them both their championships, he then slaps his own before pointing directly at Cyrus.
VASSA: ”I don’t think we’re finished just yet. Get back in there Chris!”
JOHNSON: ”Get back in there? The match is over. He’s fulfilled his obligation. It appears Cyrus is on his own.”
Bracing himself for an outnumbered attack, Cyrus clenches his fists. The official then jumps in between Cyrus and the others, warning them to back down. Wrigley ignores his demand and encourages his clients to attack Cyrus. The camera then zooms in to the officials face as he panics, desperately trying to gain control of the situation. His final words shout from his mouth, his lips are read by the camera. “Stand your men down or I’ll sue.” The official says to Wrigley.
VASSA: ”HOLD UP. STOP. Did he just say what I think he did?”
JOHNSON: ”Yes Vinny, he did. He just told Wrigley to stand down or else he’ll sue!”
VASSA: ”But that’s Wrigley’s line.”
Jumping in front of his clients, Wrigley stretches his arms to his sides, holding them in front of both Magnus and Brody. Quickly, Wrigley calms The Hostile Takeover down and talks them into standing down. Having gained control of the situation, the official remains in position, giving Cyrus the opportunity to exit the ring as the picture transitions backstage.

The look in his turquoise eyes, just as it had been earlier in Amber Ryan’s locker room, was dazed and distant as Boston wandered along the back halls of Washington D.C.’s Capital One Arena, sloppily tracing the lines between cinder blocks painted white with a finger still coated in dried blood. His finger wasn’t the only body part adorning the rust colored evidence of his participation in a showcase of brawling based brutality, as his forehead had been poorly stitched, and the flesh on his arms adorned deep, garnet claw marks from the Butcher that most likely played host to at least tetanus.
Boston’s eyes struggled to search for something. His steps were wobbly and dysrhythmic. The line he had been finger-tracing upon the wall gave way to an opening, and in his state of concussed confusion, it was enough to indicate to Boston that he had found his destination- the trainer’s room- as was evident, he did not feel well, at all.
He turned the corner and entered a dimly lit space that boasted only one locker. His unfocused, wandering eyes found a wooden bench, and Boston relegated himself to staying there for a while to enjoy the comfort and stability of that bench, regardless of whether or not this was the 4CW trainer’s base of operation. Mouth gaping a touch, he reached at the stitches on his forehead and dabbed at them delicately with a pained smile, from which a chuckle would emanate.
BOSTON: “Somethin’s not fuckin’ right.”
A short, stinging laugh born both of annoyance and disbelief jarred, albeit slowly, Boston’s attention toward the back of the room, where 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence, stood in black athletic shorts, very similar to Boston’s, while he held a pair of purple and orchid wrestling tights in his grip. Boston’s mouth opened to speak, but released no words, due to the incessant pounding in his head, though his brow furrowed just slightly enough to indicate that a definite mistake in location had likely begun to register within his bruised brain.
VALESCENCE: “Not wrong about that.”
Bronx gently tossed his tights into the air in a repeated motion as a faint smirk grew to a half smile. He goaded Boston with a hint of condescension in his voice.
VALESCENCE: “Dakota bang you up a little bit there tonight, bud? You have no idea where the fuck you are, do you?”
Boston’s eyes made several attempts to squint with ferocity before he gave up. Multiple wicked chair shots to the head earlier in the evening were robbing him of his opportunity to finally, comprehensively confront the man that defeated him to end his first stint in 4CW, a moment Boston largely attributed as the catalyst for his his long, downward spiral. Concussion or not, intruder or not, he was going to have to say something. Anything. He strained as fervently as he could to find something worthy with which to address the man of his nightmares. His head was the source of a debilitating pain so excruciating that he couldn’t even speak in complete sentences.
BOSTON: “I’m good. With you. I’m with Bronx Valescence. Same room.”
Boston threw his hands down fast upon the surface of the bench, gripping at its edges to save him from the dizzy spell that had just fiercely set in- but he didn’t break his glazed over stare in the 4CW Champion’s general direction, while he shook his head, admonishing himself for such broken communication.
BOSTON: “Equals, man, equals, excep- eh- almo- I should have won.”
Bronx rolled his head backward and sighed deep and loud enough to break interrupt Boston’s attempt at what couldn’t even have been considered trash talk, it was so pathetic by professional standards.
VALESCENCE: “Stop. Dude, just shut the fuck up. I’m tired of hearing it. Half the roster highlights that time that they ‘almost’ beat me as if it were fucking equal to some kind of title reign, including you. When has almost ever counted? Ever? In life?”
BOSTON: “No, no, you know how close-”
VALESCENCE: “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. We had a good match, Boston, yeah, we put on a hell of a damn show…about…two years ago, yeah? For the majority of those two years since, I stayed in 4CW. I busted my ass, I paid my dues, and I’m a two time 4CW Champion. I give my all, every single day, to make sure I’m doing everything I can to perform at the best of my ability. I always have. You managed to come back after a year and a half, two years, and not lose to Dakota on your way to a nasty fuckin’ concussion on your second show back. That does not make us equals. Your ‘almost’ wasn’t good enough two years ago, and it damn sure wouldn’t be now. You ‘almost’ won tonight, too, maybe you should get on Dakota’s dick.”
Bronx scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief, as he raises his arms in slight agitation.
VALESCENCE: “I don’t have time- look, I’ve got big boy shit to do.”
When you have a moderate to severe concussion, it’s like you’re there, but you’re not really there. Boston heard it all, but he didn’t listen to a word of it. Thanks to Dakota, chances are, he wouldn’t remember a fairly solid portion of Adrenaline 76, regardless of what personal watershed moments that may have taken place.
BOSTON: “I’m better, Bronx. I’m better. Better than you. Provin’ it. Time, Bronx. Time.”
The 4CW Champion swiftly shrugs with frustration, before he drops his tights and moves with purpose toward Boston.
VALESCENCE: “You’re whacked out of your skull, right now. Let’s go. Up, dude!”
Bronx aids Boston to his feet and sternly maneuvers him toward the door of his dressing room.
VALESCENCE: “You won’t remember this, but for history’s sake, I’ll say it anyway, since you were alright before you couldn’t handle your loss to me: man the fuck up, keep my name out of your mouth, and focus on what you can do better. You’ll be more successful and more original. Back to the fuckin’ trainer.”
With a shove, the champion sends the badly, though just temporarily, brain damaged man that obsesses over his demise back out into the hallway. With the harsh, nauseating spins briefly dissipated, Boston momentarily regains his bearings and spins back around to face his self-proclaimed nemesis in an attempt to steal the last word, a moral victory.
BOSTON: “Time, Bronxy. I’m comin’.”
That’s all Boston could muster in accordance with a glimpse of a hard eye roll from the champion, before the door slammed shut.



POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall, which will be contested under No Holds Barred, and is for the XTV CHAMPIONSHIP!”
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!!!”
Luke climbs the top turnbuckle and poses for the crowd before climbing back down and preparing himself for his opponent.
JOHNSON: ”That’s the kind of entrance I like to see. This young whippersnappers with their fancy lyrics and pyrotechnics that take half the show for them just to get down to the ring. That shits for the birds. Just do what they used to do when I was young. Walk to the ring and get ready for your opponent.”
VASSA: ”Oh yeah, Steve. That’ll sure get the fans on their feet.”
JOHNSON: ”If the fans are paying to see fancy entrances, they’re not really fans anyway.”
VASSA: ”Sorry ladies and gentlemen, Steve forgot to take his ovaltine and he’s feeling a little bit tired. Don’t mind his pissy pants attitude. “
The beginning beat of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina begins to play as the lights dim, only white and pink lights shine move out over the crowd.
“Ah ah ah yep yep yep
The baddest bitch is back,
I’m back part 2, part 2
I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

Genevie appears from behind the curtain with a smirk on her face as she looks around the crowd, drinking in the boos. The XTV Championship attached around her waist as she does her signature stripper dance, twirling around as she shakes her ass. She completes a rotation as she bites her lip and winks at the crowd making her way down the ramp. Removing the belt from her waist as she does.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at one hundred thirty-six pounds, she is ‘THE BOSTON GENIE’ and the XTV Champion… GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
“I don’t care what a bitch think or how a hoe feel
Cause ain’t nann one of you hoes payin my bills
And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina buy me a crib
And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina get me a whip
I know I must make a lot of ya’ll hoes sick
And all I can tell you hoes, get used to it bitch!”

Genevie carries her head high as she walks down the ramp with confidence, rubbing the XTV Championship as she walks down the ramp. As the song plays she walks around to the side of the ring, She sits her belt on the apron before she herself hops up.. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss before picking up her title and holding her title up high, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes clutching the title close to her chest, and standing up in the ring as she holds her belt up high mouthing the words “BOW DOWN.”
“And don’t you cross that line cause I get hot quick
And if you do it’s gonna be me & u up in this bitch
And I’m gonna show you why they call me the baddest bitch”

She does one final twirl to show off her ASSETS, rolling her eyes at the jealous fans boos as she goes over to the ropes and leans against them, checking her nails as the referee comes over and she dismisses him to get away from her because he is a peasant and she is The Princess. He backs off and she just continues to smirk as the music dies down, before then walking her belt over to the referee and placing it into his hands, lecturing him about not putting a scratch on it.
VASSA: ”Yeah… and how often did you dream of those teddies in your face at Fright Night? You’re welcome by the way..”
JOHNSON: ”Oh God…. nope. Not going to… christ I’m a half mast already. Let’s just get to this damned match already.”

Right off the bat at the sound of the bell the two move from their corners and meet in the center of the ring. In most cases you’d find that the competitors would either try to tie one another up, or perhaps exchange strikes. Not so this time. Genie swiftly brings her foot up between Luke’s legs, crashing into his groin and causing his eyes to go crossed and his hands to swiftly cover himself up, trying to soothe the pain away. The referee looks on and simply shrugs, though he sympathizes with the pain he’s going through. Unfortunately for Luke IT’S ALL LEGAL! Just like the rake to his eyes that Genie followed up with was perfectly legal. Seizing full advantage, the champion lashes wicked knife edged chops to the chest of her opponent but instead of backing up, Luke just falls over onto his backside and then rolls away from her, under the bottom rope, and down to the outside of the ring. There he rolls over onto his side, groaning in misery as the discomfort from the initial kick still pulsated throughout his entire body.
Wasting zero time, Genie moves across the ring and ducks out down to the outside, hopping down to the floor where she unloads a few kicks to Luke’s side. She then pulls him up to his feet and whips him hard into the security barrier before hopping up onto the ring apron. Not one who normally takes risks like that, she leaps and throws her feet forward, crashing into Luke before tumbling down to the floor as well. Jones lifts off his feet and nearly flops over the barricade and out into the crowd but instead comes down laying awkwardly across the top. Carlson, on the other hand, gets back up a little bit slowly. Her leap hurting her some, though not nearly as much as it had with Luke. When she finally makes her way back up to a standing position she moves over to Luke and unloads a number of elbows to his abdomen before she pulls him off of the barricade and whips him once more, this time into the turnbuckle post.

VASSA: ”Haha… that made the sound of what Genie has sucked a lot of in her life. DONG!”
Slamming into the post head first, Luke stumbles back away. Things haven’t gone his way early on and he’s desperate to try and get himself back into the match. If only he could get his legs to stop feeling so wobbly underneath him. Holding his head, which was now throbbing, Luke turns back toward Genie who quickly thrust her foot up toward his face. It wasn’t any skill that caused him to dodge it, just simple luck and the fact that he was still having trouble seeing straight after running into the turnbuckle post. Genie, missing on the super kick attempt, goes sailing past Luke and slams to a halt, bringing her foot down a few inches before she ran into the barricade herself. Turning back around, she looks to set her attention on him but he catches her with a vicious right hand that knocks her down completely. Tough as ever, Genie gets back up to her feet quickly and swings, trying to take Luke’s head off, but misses. As he ducks under the punch attempt he scoops Genie up and drops her stomach first across the barricade that she had used to inflict so much pain on him already in the match.
While Genie tries to collect herself, and her breath, Luke begins to hunt under the ring for some sort of weapon to use. Pulling a few chairs out, and a kendo stick, he finally finds a long leather strap. Who knows what the hell it was used for before but Luke certainly seemed to have ideas with it as he picked it up, folded it over itself once, and then turned his attention back to his opponent. Stalking over towards her before she could push herself fully off the barricade, Luke pulled his arm back and then snapped it forward, cracking the leather strap across Genie’s ass loudly. She howls out in pain and, at the same time, shoots a nasty glare at Luke. With a smirk on his face, he pulls the strap back again and unleashes it violently across the champions backside. Pushing herself off of the barricade, she falls down to the floor and begins to push herself away from Luke, who continues to follow her, slowly. As she scoots, Luke darts forward and cracks her three times rapidly with the strap before finally tossing the object away from himself.
VASSA: ”That has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen live in person. SPANK HER AGAIN, LUKE!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m not at half staff anymore. It’s more like three quarters. I thought this is what came on Showtime after we go off air.”
Turning back to the other objects he had pulled out from underneath the ring, Luke retrieves one of the chairs that he had pulled out from underneath the ring and begins to walk back in the direction of the XTV Champion, who is gingerly trying to get back up to her feet.
JOHNSON: ”Genie better watch out. We all saw what Luke did to Devin Zebrak earlier tonight with a chair just like that one.”
VASSA: ”Maybe he’s bringing it to you so that you can sit in it and receive a lap dance from her.”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t think my heart can handle that.”
That’s not at all what Luke had intended to do with the chair, drawing closer to Genie before raising it high above his head. As he brought it rapidly down toward her, she managed to roll out of the way, the top of the chair slamming off the floor a few inches away from her. Angrily, Luke thrusts his foot out and catches her with a hard kick to the stomach before raising the chair high above his head again. He tries to hit her with it a second time but again she rolls out of the way and the chair clangs off the floor, narrowly missing her yet again. When he tries to kick her again she catches it and shoves his leg away. Steadying himself, Luke begins to raise the chair up but as he does, Genie shoves her own foot upward, catching the chair and sending it flying into Luke’s face.
Pushing herself back up to her feet, Genie rubs her backside trying to soothe some of the residual stinging pain way before taking off at a sprint toward her opponent. Lowering her shoulder, she catches Luke in the stomach with a spear but doesn’t hit it flush as he just barely started to move out of the way. Both of them go slamming into the barricade yet again and the crowd pops at the impact. Still, the barricade doesn’t give way and that was seemingly what the fans were really hoping for, to see the two competitors going completely through the barricade.
JOHNSON: ”Let’s focus on the match for just a moment. How much time have they spent in the ring?”
VASSA: ”Probably about as long as you’d last if she did a twirl on that crusty old dick of yours.”
Both manage to get back up to their feet at the same time, with Luke catching Genie in the stomach with an elbow before bouncing her face off of the security barrier. He then grabs her and tosses her back into the ring, bending down and picking up another steel chair, steadying himself on it before following her back into the ring a moment later. Meanwhile, Genie scrambles across the ring to the opposite side, using the ropes to pull herself back up. Once she’s back up right she turns around to see Luke charging at her with the chair. He connects, but not with her head like he had intended. He catches her arm with the chair partially. The force of the impact of the chair spins her, and she clutches her arm as she does so.
But as Luke begins to raise the chair again, Genie leaps from her feet and catches the chair with her foot in the middle of it, slamming it straight into Luke’s face. The impact flattens him and he hits the mat clutching his nose. Genie rubs her shoulder, trying to chase the pain away, before scowling at Luke, shouting at him that he wasn’t going to take her championship from her. At the same time Luke rolls over onto his stomach, crawling over toward where the chair was laying. As he pulled himself there, Genie saw where he was headed and quickly took off toward the ropes that were behind him. On the rebound Luke just managed to get to the chair, his fingers grabbing the steel just as Genie leapt into the air. Before Luke could stand her foot met the back of his head, slamming it straight down onto the chair. STILETTO KISS!
VASSA: ”Did she kill him?”
The answer to Vinny’s question was no, but the stiletto kiss curb stomp extinguishes the light in Luke’s eyes momentarily. Quickly she drops down, the arm Luke had hit with the chair hanging limply, and rolls him over with one arm before hooking his leg and shouting at the referee to count. He obliges, sliding in.

Sitting up, Genie clutches at her shoulder while Powers announces her victory and the referee retrieves the championship belt and hands it to her. He then tries to help her up to her feet and raise her arm in the air victoriously, but she has none of it, pulling away from him while clutching the title. She stays in the ring briefly, staring down at Luke with a smirk on her face before dropping to her back and rolling herself out of the ring.
JOHNSON: ”Tough loss for Luke Jones but it’s nice to see him put some heart and effort into what he’s doing for once.”
VASSA: ”Is it possible that fuckboi Luke is gone? I think he killed Devin Zebrak earlier and he damn near would have killed Genie tonight if she hadn’t been able to narrowly roll out of the way of a few monster chair shots.”
JOHNSON: ”Maybe. I just know that Genie had her hands full tonight and the XTV Title is going back home with her once more. But Luke made her fight for it tonight.”
VASSA: ”Can we just outlaw low blows, though? That shit should be illegal. Immediate go to jail, do not pass go… do not collect whatever the non exclusive pay scale is.”
JOHNSON: ”While Vinny contemplates proposing federal legislation, we’ll be right back folks.”

A certain amount of ‘giddiness’ was shot into the veins of one, Jair Hopkins. It was a rare sight to see, not like a “Shooting Star” but Hopkins was making his interviews like that in a sense. High-stepping, flailing his arms and humming to whatever was banging in his ears through the earbuds, he was in good spirits heading into his match with Jett Wilder later in the night in the Co-main header. As it was revealed earlier into the night, what was just pictured as a regular matchup had now evolved into a special one. Winner takes on the winner of the other match between Aidan Carlisle and Amber Ryan. Who wins that contest will then face the current PRIDE Champion, Kimitsu Zombie at Winter Wasteland. It explained his current mood.
As he was carrying on through the hallways, the always alert Gabriel Hartman, caught sight of a long-timer in Hopkins and immediately called out his name but Hopkins couldn’t hear a thing. Hartman, later able to tap on Hopkins, got the former two-time 4CW Champ to turn around as he pulled the earbuds from his ears.
HOPKINS: ”Yoooo Gabby, what’s up?!”
HARTMAN: ”Ha! I should be asking you that. Been forever since I gotten a chance to interviewer. You been different.”
That comment generated a laugh from Hopkins who shook his head.
HOPKINS: ”Not different, just serious, man. Sorry I aint been seen enough out here for to give you some good humor. I’m just on a grind to get my personal items back. Gold around my waist again whether tag or individual. Tonight, I got a chance to move one step forward!”
Hartman nodded, smiling as that was where he wanted to head to next.
HARTMAN: ”Right on the spot, you obviously had to hear the back-n-forth earlier at the start of the show with Perry and Pride Champion Kimitsu Zombie. The premium for two matches on the slate here tonight is huge!”
Hopkins looked up to the lights, rubbing his hands and licking his lips.
HOPKINS: ”Look, I already had motivation in whippin’ some lil’ white kid’s ass tonight. Now you tellin me I get a chance to be rewarded with beating him and whoever wins the match earlier before me? Oh you goddamn right its huge! I heard Kimitsu speak on about facing me would be an honor. The same for me, but that feeling will die after that bell ring. I been too long without gold.”
HOPKINS: ”You know the one title that has evaded me has been the PRIDE Title? That would complete a “Grand Slam” wouldn’t it? Second or third in 4CW History? Tell me that aint enough motivation? Jett deserves all of what he has received these past two weeks leading to tonight. He deserves everything that will happen tonight times two. He done talked way too much shit that his little fragile frame and mind can’t handle.”
HARTMAN: ”But you have to know this will be big for him as well as he’s a former…”
HOPKINS: ”Let me pause you right there. Former PRIDE Champion, Jett Wilder? That was a dead-ass giveaway, Gabriel. Come on man, who the hell was John Austin. Wait, lemme check real quick.”
Hopkins pulled out his Samsung phone that his earbuds were connected to as he tapped along the screen, directing to the Wikipedia website. Putting in John Austin name, nothing registered. Putting in Google, nothing came up.
HOPKINS: ”I put the name in and nothing comes up man. Now I don’t mean to shade the man who once held the title before Jett. I know who he was when he was here for a minute. He did good enough to hold the title before with ease, handing it over to Jett. That was the age of transition. What has Jett done since? What has he accomplished since? He hates folks talking about his Moms but shit, she managed to grab some gold within her brief existence. Quality ranks of it don’t matter, she scored early.”
HOPKINS: ”Jett needs a direction and tonight I’m going to point him into the right direction. Out of the door!”
HARTMAN: ”So I know the two happen to fight before you and Jett but who do you have between former stablemate Amber Ryan and Aidan Carlisle?”
Hopkins gradually smiled as he thought on it but shook his head, seemingly unsure.
HOPKINS: ”Both would be dope to go up against. I believe me and Carlisle squared off once. I done smoked too much weed to the point some history fades. I never went up against Amber. That’d be dope as well. Former mates collide for the chance to battle at Winter Wasteland for the PRIDE Championship. Either one, both have elite talent, I’ll be of course tuning into those two ladies battle it out. You know Wasteland takes place in my hometown, right?”
Hartman nodded.
HOPKINS: ”You should know off the top that I’m not going to let my folks down then. Since I debuted in this business, I always carried that Roman Goddess who stands as the Statue of Liberty on my back and in my heart. I always look to put on when I’m in the state of New York but being it’s in Brooklyn, it’s a hundred times that. A statistic of Crown Heights, I get a chance to face Kimitsu and show her how we do! It’s nice seein ya, Gabe, been a while, I’ll try and make it more often!”
With that, Hopkins skipped off, placing his earbuds back in and returning to what he was on before being interrupted. Gabriel nodded before cameras turned back to ringside.

The Stranger Things remix to “Starboy” kicks up on the speakers and the entrance way is filled with smoke as Bronx Valescence, the 4CW Champion makes his way out onto the stage with the title around his waist. He is dressed in true winter fashion with a puffy vest on and a pair of jeans. He has to unbutton and unzip the vest to show off the championship as he nods and heads on down the ramp with a smile on his face. Bronx pulls himself up onto the apron and poses with his finger gun out before he leaps into the ring and takes a microphone. He nods and looks around at the crowd for a moment.
VALESCENCE: “Another week, another monumental challenge for Bronx Valescence. Everyone behind the scenes keeps asking me my thoughts about my match at Winter Wasteland, and week after week I come out here or I stand back there and I say the same thing. Nothing changes. Tonight, I’m in one of the coolest tag matches with three other people who I consider the top of 4CW, the very top. But more in particular, people want to know my thoughts on Marquis, after all. The biggest title match in 4CW… IN MY HUMBLE OPINION, is nearly upon us as December creeps closer…”
There is a slight pop at the match up.
VALESCENCE: “Do you people know where I was a year ago? I was sitting at home, watching Adrenaline and I was having conversations with Bryan Williams about returning to this company—and fitting he is the referee tonight because it was a very important part of getting me back. At Winter Wasteland I sat upon a throne and I told people my implications, but unlike me and all of these other fakes who come through those doors. I did what I said I would, and now I carry this belt into one of the biggest matches that it’s ever seen.”
Bronx paused as he walked back and forth.
VALESCENCE: “So let me tell you about my thoughts on Marquis…”
He paused and looked around.
VALESCENCE: “Marquis is a killer. Week after week she stabs through this roster with his sword. Week after week I see people cowering in the corner from her words. Week after week I see her reach into the personal lives of wrestlers because she wants to drag them down into whatever miserable hole she lives in. Week after week, I see bloodshed. Week after week I see I see Marquis claim this place at hers, but then casually blow it off like she doesn’t give a damn. But you see… that’s the difference. I don’t have to take the low hanging fruit like Marquis does week in and week out… I am an open book. And she can run her mouth all she wants, but everyone at the end of the day will know the truth.”
A smile curled to his lips.
VALESCENCE: “I’m the one every single roster member mentions in their promos. I am the level everyone is trying to get to. And guess what? Every time they get to that level?”
Bronx walked toward and stared into the hard camera as he leaned on the top rope.
VALESCENCE: “I take it up another notch, and I raise it again, and I raise it again. People have RETIRED trying to catch me. People have taken time off trying to catch me, and they’ll continue to do so because NOBODY can touch me. A win here? A win there? Sure, a pissant can do that. But to do it as consistently as I do? To have match of the night week in and week out? Nobody. NOOOBODDY can touch that. So Quis can reach in and snatch the hearts of whoever she wants. She can go low, because she’s dealing with a man… dealing with a WRESTLER… dealing with a champion…”
Bronx raised his arms out to either side with the title, pointed his gun and pulled the trigger.
VALESCENCE: “Who is untouchable.”
He winked.
VALESCENCE: “Consider the first shot… fired.”
Dropping the microphone, Bronx lingered for a bit as he backed up and held the title up in the middle of the ring before he rolled out and headed to the back.


JOHNSON: ”Welcome back folks. Up next is our headline which just so happens to be our second match of the night involving the Pride Championship.”
VASSA: ”You all heard what Perry said earlier in the evening. Amber Ryan has already won her qualifying match and will face the winner here tonight to decide who will challenge Kimitsu Zombie at Winter Wasteland for the Price Championship.”
JOHNSON: ”We have Jair Hopkins, a former Tag Team and two time 4CW Champion, taking on a former Pride Champion and the Future Amazing Great, Jett Wilder.”
VASSA: ”Jett has been on a tear over the last couple of months. He came up short two weeks ago against Bronx but can really bounce back huge here tonight with a win over Jair.”
JOHNSON: ”It isn’t going to be easy by any means. Jair is coming off a tough loss to Chris Madison, as well as losing the Tag Team Championships at Fright Night.”
VASSA: ”Tonight is the night that either one of these men get back on track.”
JOHNSON: ”As I’m sure you all have seen in the news lately, Jett Wilder has recently been on the receiving end of a DUI. Hard times to say the least.”
VASSA: ”It really makes you think where his head is going into this match.”
JOHNSON: ”Everyone has their ups and downs in this business. Just a year ago Jair went through some troubles with the law and since returning, he’s been tearing it up with his head in the right place.”
VASSA: ”Everyone handles things differently. It will be interesting to see how Jett moves forward from this legal problem. I guess it’s a good thing that his mother is an attorney.”
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 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.
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: ”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… he is a two time 4CW 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 we have it, both men have entered the ring with one goal in mind.”
VASSA: ”One goal. To win.”
JOHNSON: ”To win and advance to the contender match next week, and then to win that and challenge for the Pride Championship.”
VASSA: ”That’s technically two goals.”
JOHNSON: ”Well then let’s take things a little further and make it three goals. To win tonight, win in two weeks, and then win the Pride Championship at Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: ”Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Steve. One show at a time old man.”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official looks to each corner, getting the nod from both Jair and Jett as they are ready to get things underway. Slowly, he raises his hand into the air as the crowd silences, looking on in anticipation. Swinging downward, the official calls for the bell as the fans throughout the building erupt.

Darting across the ring, Jair runs straight for Jett before the bell even silences. Leaping forward, he flies in Jett’s direction, drawing his hand back and readying himself for a massive flying punch. Quick on his feet, Jett rolls out of the way as Jair improvises in mid air and lands both feet onto the middle turnbuckle while grabbing the top rope on each side of the corner. Jumping up into a handstand, Jair then pushes himself away from the corner and kicks his legs out, planting them both into Jett’s shoulders as he gets back to his feet. Jett falls back down to the mat as Jair lands to his feet to the mat.
Rushing to get up, Jett sees Hopkins lunging in to grab ahold of him. Lowering his shoulder and stepping forward, Jett drives his shoulder into Jair’s stomach. Wrapping Jair around the waist with both arms, Jett lifts him off his feet and takes a few quick steps forward, slamming Jair’s back into the corner. Throwing a left and then a right, Jett punches Jair in the ribs before lifting him up again and placing him on the top of the corner. He then holds Jair with his left hand while throwing a right up and connecting square in Jair’s mouth.
Climbing to the middle ropes, Jett goes to set Jair up for a suplex from the top but before he can pull it off, Jair pushes him backwards and sends him down to the mat on his back. Racing to his feet, Jett then looks up and braces himself as Jair flies down in his direction. Turning his body and completely stretching his limbs, Jair collides into Jett with a diving crossbody. Jett falls back with Jair on top of him and hits the canvas hard. Going for a quick pin, Jair hooks Jett’s leg as the official slides in beside them with the count.

Popping a shoulder up from the mat, Jett breaks up the count before the officials hand slaps the mat a second time.
On his feet, Jair begins stomping down onto Jett as he rolls across the ring. Raising his knee to his chest, Jair then kicks his leg down, only to have his foot caught as Jett manages to get both hands on it. Holding onto Jair’s foot, Jett rises up to one knee. As he pops completely up, he shoves Jair’s leg back at him, sending him falling backwards and hitting the mat. Jair rolls backwards and up to his feet fluidly only to get taken head on as Jett charges in and leaps forward, wiping him out with a Lou Thesz Press.
VASSA: ”We have some fast paced action on our hands Steve.”
JOHNSON: ”These two know what’s at stake. No point in holding back when there are championship implications on the line.”
Swinging wildly, Jett rains down onto Jair’s head with rapid lefts and rights. A final right gets swatted away before connecting with Jair’s head, giving Jair an opportunity to follow up with a chop to the side of Jair’s neck. Grabbing Jett by the shoulders, Jair rolls to his side, shoving Jett off of him in the process. Both men quickly race to their feet, standing together in unison. They quickly lock up and Jair pulls Jett’s head down into a side headlock. wrapping Jair around the waist with both arms, Jett then lifts him off his feet and as high as he can as if going for a suplex next. Rolling backwards and out of Jett’s arms, Jair lands behind Jett and grabs him by the shoulder to spin him around. Hitting Jett in the mouth with a quick jab, Jair then locks onto his arm and goes to whip him to the ropes. Before Jair can release, Jett reverses the throw and sends Jair to the ropes instead. As Jair bounces off the ropes, Jett ducks down to flip Jair over his back but instead eats a mouthful of boot as Jair kicks him in the face. Jett then rushes in for a clothesline but misses as Jair ducks underneath. Just as Jett turns around, Jair lunges at him to lock up but Jett kicks his foot up, aiming for Jair’s stomach. As Jett’s foot closes in, Jair grabs ahold of it with both hands, avoiding impact to his mid-section. Jair then swings Jett’s leg to the side, spinning him around but as Jett makes a full revolution, he catches Jair by surprise with a dragon whip.
JOHNSON: ”Finally Jett manages to connect with a dragon whip after a series of reversals from both guys.”
VASSA: ”I’m really impressed after seeing that from both guys, more so Jett and how far he’s come along since first weaseling his way into 4CW years ago.”
Jair pushes himself up to one knee as Jett races past him towards the ropes. Coming back on the return, Jett leaps forward, wiping Jair out with a diving clothesline. Back on his feet, Jett doesn’t give Jair a single second to catch a breather as he begins stomping down onto his lower legs. Pulling Jair up from the mat, Jett hits him with back to back rights before following up with a kick to the stomach, forcing Jair to buckle over from the impact. Locking his arm around Jair’s head, Jett then takes a few steps forward, pulling Jair along with him. Leaping forward, he then plants Jair’s face into the mat with a bulldog. Rolling Jett over to his back, Jett makes the cover as the official races over for the count.

VASSA: ”NO! Jair kicks out!”
Kicking out and pushing Jett up, Jair breaks up the officials count before a complete two.
VASSA: ”These two aren’t playing any games tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s a big match as we all know. There’s always time to relax and take a break after the be–“
VASSA: ”Look out Jair!”
After getting back to his feet, Jett jumps up and as he comes down, he kicks both legs straight, planting his feet into the side of Jair’s head just before he completely falls to the mat. The kick rolls Jair over a few times before stopping on his stomach. Jair crawls to the ropes and underneath them to where his head is out onto the apron looking down at it. On his feet, Jett rushes over and steps in beside him. Grabbing the top rope, Jett then jumps up and pulls himself over, coming down with a slingshot legdrop to Jair’s head.
JOHNSON: ”Slingshot Legdr–“
VASSA: ”Jett misses!”
Rolling out of the way, Jair avoids the legdrop as Jett lands awkwardly onto the apron before bouncing off and falling over to the floor and hitting it rather hard. With Jett down on the outside, the official begins the ten count as Jair slowly pushes himself all the way back into the ring.
“One! … Two!”

Pulling himself up with the ropes, Jair climbs to his feet.
“Three! … Four!”

On the outside, Jett slowly pulls himself up using the side of the ring.
“Five! … Six!”

Backing away from the ring, Jett reaches around and massages his bottom where he crashed onto the apron.
“Seven! … Eight!”

Hitting the ropes across the ring, Jair zips past the official and runs towards the ropes between he and Jett. Leaping over the top rope, Jair flips in mid air, crashing into Jett with a suicide senton. Jett absorbs the impact of the crash to the floor as Jair remains on top of him. The entire arena bursts with cheers at the sight of the high risk move on account of Jair. With both men outside now, the official then restarts the ten count.
“One! … Two!”

Jair quickly gets back to his feet before turning to Jett and kicking him a few times while he’s down.
“Three! … Four!”

Pulling Jett up from the floor, Jair then whips him into the barricade at ringside as the fans in the front row got wild and although he’s hurting, the younger ladies nearby all rush in to touch the F.A.G.
“Five! … Six!”

Pulling Jett away from the barricade, Jair then lifts him up onto his shoulders before falling back and putting him back down to the floor with a Samoan drop.
“Seven! … Eight!”

Jair pulls Jett back to his feet and then rolls him underneath the bottom rope back into the ring.

Sliding in himself, Jair ends the officials ten count which was barely even heard due to the sound levels of the crowd after reacting to Jair’s suicide senton.
VASSA: ”You hear that, Steve? This place is going ape shit.”
JOHNSON: ”Everyone loves to watch high risk moves performed and Jair put it all on the line with that suicide senton.”
VASSA: ”If he had failed to connect, that would have been a huge game changer in this matchup.”
Crawling over to Jett, Jair covers him for the pin as the official drops in beside them with the count.

Jett manages to get a shoulder up again, breaking up a near three count. Jair rises up, looking down at Jett before shaking his head, surprised the kid still has some fight left in him. Pushing himself up, he then pulls Jett to his feet. Holding onto his wrist with one hand, Jair hits Jett with two punches from his other before whipping him to the corner across the ring. Just as Jett slams into the corner, Jair is right there behind him, flying through the air. Planting both feet into Jett’s stomach, Jair grabs onto his shoulders before falling backwards and pulling Jett along for the ride. Jair’s back hits the mat and he kicks his legs straight, slipping Jett up and over to the center of the ring with a monkey flip.
Jett rolls up to an upright seated position after smacking the canvas. Behind him, Jair rushes in, leaping feet first and hitting him between the shoulder blades with a dropkick. Pulling Jett to his feet, Jair then sets Jair up as if going for a suplex. He pauses a moment, as the noise level in the arena begins to rise once again as they know what’s coming next.
JOHNSON: ”I’m pretty sure Jair is going for his Bread N’ Butter right now.”
VASSA: ”I think he’s also going to attempt his spinning reverse facebuster.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s what I just said.”
As predicted, Jair goes for the spinning reverse facebuster and as he pulls Jett up, Jett locks his leg with Jair’s, keeping himself down and stopping the move from progressing any further. Jett then fires a shot into Jair’s ribs with his free hand before grabbing onto his waistband. Out of nowhere, Jett then lifts Jair up into the air before dropping him with the spinning reverse facebuster!
JOHNSON: ”This placed is going nuts! It’s insane how loud the fans are reacting to that.”
VASSA: ”Once again, Jett is proving that he does indeed possess that clutch factor that truly makes the greats what they are.”
JOHNSON: ”Jett may just end it right here!”
On his knees, Jett rolls Jair over to his back and quickly makes the cover as the official rushes over for the count.

JOHNSON: ”Jair Hopkins showing some of that resilience that helped him become a two time 4CW Champion.”
Rolling over, Jett sits up slowly, disbelief in his face. Turning toward the referee his expression clearly asks the same question that Vinny Vassa had just asked himself. How in the hell had Jair Hopkins kicked out? It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Jair was an old has been on the verge of retirement. At least that was how Jett claimed to see him. He should have stayed down and taken his trip to the nursing home with grace. Pushing himself back up to his feet, Jett stares down at Jair momentarily before kicking him and shouting at him to just stay down. Jair, of course, doesn’t listen. And though he absorbs the kick he still continues to work his way back to his feet shortly after. Pulling at his hair, Jett scowls at the former champion and paces back and forth across the ring from him. Once Jair gets back to his feet, Jett sprints at Jair and connects with a well practiced running lariat. You could say that he was WILDIN’ OUT! Diving across the fallen body of Hopkins, Jett rolls over and hooks the leg, raising his free hand in the air to count along with the referee who slides into position.

Indeed he had but this time no disbelief crosses the face of his opponent. Instead, Jett just seemed to become more determined to put Jair away. Acting quickly, Jett stood back up and made his way over to the the turnbuckle where he quickly hoisted himself up to the top rope. Looking down at Jair who still lay on his back in the same position he had been when he had kicked out momentarily, Jett smirked and raised both of his hands in the air bringing his thumbs and forefingers together, holding up Jair’s classic “dying breed” hand gesture to taunt him with. Shaking his head, Jett jerks his hands apart and then slashes his thumb across his throat before leaping into the air off of the top turnbuckle.

Jett’s body finds nothing but empty mat, slamming down hard and causing him to bounce up and flip over onto his back. Hopkins just barely managed to roll out of the way and get back up to his feet but as Jett now lays in the middle of the ring, Jair senses opportunity. Already the crowd is hyped but they pop even louder as Jair begins to do his hyped stomps around the ring. They’ve seen it before. They know what’s coming next. Taking off toward the ropes, Jair leaps and springboards off of them, flipping over in seeming slow motion before coming down with both feet squarely on Jetts chest. OMFG!

The crowd erupts as Jair just lays there, big deep breaths of air heaving into and out of his lungs. Jett Wilder had proven himself to be a game competitor on that evening but it just wasn’t his night. Slowly, Jair sat up as Powers made the announcement of the result of the match.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”
The usual celebration isn’t there for Jair. He knows he’s been through a war. He knows that the kid who used to be little more than jokes and excuses was slowly coming into his own. Pushing himself up to his feet, the referee raised his arm in the air before Jair gave the fallen F.A.G. a nod of his head while his own music played once more.
JOHNSON: ”What a war. What an absolute war.”
VASSA: ”I bet if Tiffani hadn’t broken up with Jett he would have won tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”Don’t do that, Vinny. Don’t take away from what these two just did here tonight. I don’t normally compliment that kid but tonight makes me think that maybe the Future Amazing Great just might be… great.”
VASSA: ”As long as he doesn’t let pig faced women distract him, sure. That match was his to win tonight. It was an opportunity for him to make a statement. And he let it slip through his fingers.”
JOHNSON: ”It happens to the best of us, Vinny. Maybe you’ll understand that one day.”
VASSA: ”What the fuck does that mean?”
JOHNSON: ”Think about it. If you come up with an answer by the time we come back for our main event, I’m sure the fans at home would love to hear it.”

Watching from a private room in the back, Carmella is saddened at the result of the match between Jair Hopkins and her son, Jett. She lowers her forehead down into the palm of her hand and sighs. A knock is then head, instantly grabbing her attention. Standing up from her chair, she walks to the door before slowly turning the handle and cracking it open. On the other side, Perry Wallace stands in the hall.
WALLACE: ”Sorry to bother you. Tough break for the kid out there just now.”
WILDER: ”It really is. He’s going to be devastated.”
She then opens the door completely before stepping back and opening a path to enter.
WILDER: ”Would you like to come in?”
Thinking the invitation over in his head, Perry pauses for a moment before responding.
WALLACE: ”You know what, I think it would probably be best if I just stayed out here in the hallway. No offense, I just have other commitments as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
Again, she sighs before shaking her head which is then followed up with a grin slowly forming across her face.
WILDER: ”I did hear about that actually. I’ll bite my tongue for now. So, is there a particular reason you wanted to see me tonight?”
WALLACE: ”As a matter of fact there is. I’m sure you’re disappointed with the recent bad choices Jett has made. It’s no secret, everyone knows about his D.U.I.”
WILDER: ”They do, but I believe I can pull some strings and get the charges reduced.”
WALLACE: ”I’m glad to hear that. The kid has really grown up since he first came to 4CW a couple years back. It’s a shame to see him go down this path. I wanted to run something by you, since you’re not only his mother but his manager as well.”
WILDER: ”And that might be what exactly?”
WALLACE: ”To help him get his life back on track so he can be the F.A.G. we all know he’s capable of being, I think we should look into getting him enrolled in some sort of rehab program. The kid has the potential to one day be the face of this place, or any place he’s signed.”
WILDER: ”A program? My son is not a drug addict.”
WALLACE: ”I didn’t say he was. Come on. Let’s go for a walk and discuss some of the programs out there that Jett could really benefit from.”
She thinks over the invitation for a short moment in her head before giving Perry a nod.
WILDER: ”Let me grab my purse.”
She turns away and walks into the depths of the room as Perry stands in the hallway, hands in his pockets and looking up at the ceiling – more than likely talking himself out of doing anything he may regret later down the road.


JOHNSON: ”Well folks, here it is! The match you have been waiting for all night long! Can you believe it? These four all stepping in the ring together, I feel like the roof is about to blow off of this place!”
VASSA: ”I can’t believe it’s taken this long, but FINALLY … Bronx and Ana have teamed up in 4CW! What a night!”
JOHNSON: ”Very funny, but those two definitely have their history together. As well with the man assigned to the Special Guest Referee spot. Do you think Bryan is in a bit of a situation here?”
VASSA: ”Well, let me see. He’s got his friend on one side, along with his ex-girlfriend. On the other side is his current girlfriend, and he’s just talked shit about his ex earlier tonight. Yeah, I’d say he’s in a bad spot.”
JOHNSON: ”Bryan indeed had some words for Ana, after her promo earlier this week. You have to wonder how Kimitsu Zombie fits into all of this, the Pride Champion.”
VASSA: ”She’s going to look to bounce back, and perform fantastically. I would expect nothing but a great performance by her here tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”No doubt about it, Kimitsu is a fighter. She’s in kind of an awkward situation here, but she seems ready for the challenge.”
VASSA: ”Everyone in this match is kind of in an awkward situation here, it’s what happens with Wallace books these things.”
JOHNSON: ”How true is that?! Anyway, Bryan is already waiting in the ring. Let’s get out competitors out here!”
“Loyal” by Chris Brown begins, Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Upper Eastside Manhattan, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds and the same height as every other bitch in this place, which is five feet and seven inches tall. She is the former Fate Champion, ‘The Queefster’, ‘Marky Mark’, ‘The Ass Eater Extraordinaire’, ‘Mr. Brightside herself’ – PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
She had been waiting for Powers to finish announcing her, hands on her hips as she stares at him incredulously while still standing on the ramp. She shakes her head and sighs, continuing down the ramp. Some men in the audience extend money toward her in an attempt to get her attention, while others even go as far as yelling their impressive occupations and positions to her. At some points, she pretends to be interested before continuing on; snatching some man’s waving money and not giving him the time of the day.
Folding the cash and stuffing it into her wrestling top.
“These hoes ain’t loyal!”

She enters the ring and meets Bryan with a quick kiss. Quickly though, she’s back into match mode. She waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; back to her patronizing smirk.
JOHNSON: ”Little sign of affection there, do you think Bryan being in this match will come into play?”
VASSA: ”I would hope not. Bryan probably doesn’t want to take anything away from Persephone here tonight. She’s going to be looking to outperform the 4CW Champion, if he stays out of her way she might be able to do just that.”
Number Girl’s “Tattoo Ari” blares out and yellow and red lights flash around all over the arena as the guitar riff starts and mingles with the mixed reaction from the fans.

Kimitsu Zombie calmly walks out of the entrance way in her bosozoku uniform carrying a bottle of shochu and her belt on like a bandolier across her body.
POWERS: ”Now, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and hailing from Kimitsu, Japan! It’s your 4CW Pride Champion, the ‘Little Yokai’, KIMITSU ZZOOMMBBIIEE!!!”
Kimitsu drinks from the shochu bottle as she struts to the ring as she takes in the crowds reaction of cheers and jeers. She grins and where she climbs a turnbuckle bobbing to the music.

She takes a long chug of shochu and spits a shochu mist into the air then screams in satisfaction with her tongue out. She jumps down into the ring and holds her title up in the air waiting for the match to start.
JOHNSON: ”Certainly a good partner for Persephone to have tonight. Having the Pride Champion in your corner has to feel good.”
VASSA: ”Yeah, it was a tough go of it last time for Kimitsu. She can bounce back easily tonight, and get a win over Ana and Bronx. Wouldn’t that be something?”
JOHNSON: ”Indeed it would, do you think their inexperience together might hurt them?”
VASSA: ”Maybe, but it’s hard to say. This match is so crazy, something like this just might work.”
“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. 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: ”Making her way to the ring, hailing from Steele, North Dakota…weighing in at one hundred 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.
JOHNSON: ”I can already see Ana staring a hole into Bryan’s head.”
VASSA: ”If I were Bronx, I’d keep her cool and collected all night. You don’t want that kind of distraction.”
The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. 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 puffy vest back to reveal the 4CW Championship around his waist, he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp, occasionally pointing at the belt and talking trash.
POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds… He is the 4CW Champion… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”
When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Pulling his title belt off with one hand, he opens his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his puffy vest and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit, waiting for Bryan to come over and take his title.
JOHNSON: ”That’s a nice puffy vest from the 4CW Champion.”
VASSA: ”Looks very stylish, I don’t think Bronx is really worried about this match tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”No, he seems calm. Collected for what’s about to come, I think he’s going to do whatever he can to get the win here tonight. You got to think that facing off with Marquis is just going to be a taste of what’s to come.”
VASSA: ”Oh man, you bet. Tonight will just be a small indicator for Winter Wasteland. I’m so excited!”

Bronx and Kimitsu start off the match, the two champions standing face to face in the ring. Zombie tries to attack first, but Bronx sidesteps her and sends her to the ropes. Zombie tries to rebound with a dropkick, but Bronx sidesteps that as well. He quickly locks in a side headlock, as Zombie is able to get to her feet. Bronx doesn’t look like he’s going to break the hold, but eventually lets up. He gives Kimitsu a small golf clap, which seems to only anger her. She quickly charges him again, but he ducks and drops her to the mat with a Drop Toe Hold. Bronx doesn’t let up, connecting with a Running Dropkick to the side of her head!
Zombie gets to her knee, and charges at Bronx! She tries taking him down to the mat with a leg takedown, but Bronx is easily able to stop it. She changes levels, hitting him with a Forearm shot that stuns him for a moment. She quickly whips him to the ropes, but Bronx holds onto her arm and sends her running instead. He attempts a Back Body Drop, but Kimitsu stops in time and kicks him right in the face! Bronx stumbles backwards, stunned, as the two begin to stare each other down.
JOHNSON: ”Bronx getting the better of the Pride Champion here for a moment. Kimitsu responds with a nice kick.”
VASSA: ”Don’t want to underestimate Kimitsu, she will take your head off.”
They quickly lock up again, with Bronx easily getting the better of Kimitsu. He tosses her to the mat, using an Armdrag to send her flying. She quickly gets up, charging at him again, but Bronx catches her with an elbow! Kimitsu stumbles backwards, but tries to charge him again! Bronx grabs the top rope, and sends her spilling to the outside! Bronx looks to possibly run the ropes, but instead he decides to exit the ring as he looks to continue. Bryan looks on, watching as the two stay on the outside.
Zombie tries her best to get back into the ring, but Bronx keeps her from escaping. He tosses her into the nearby ring barricade, as Zombie hits hard. Bronx quickly charges in, but Zombie connects with a Drop Toe Hold! Bronx lands into the barricade awkwardly, giving Zombie a chance to recover! She quickly crawls back into the ring, looking to tag Persephone back into the match. Bronx, having recovered, quickly shoots into the ring, tagging in Ana just as Zombie is able to slide back into the ring. Zombie tries to get up to her feet quickly, but eats a running knee strike from Ana! Zombie stumbles forwards, allowing Ana to quickly climb up the turnbuckle and drop Kimitsu to the mat with a leaping Bulldog from behind! Zombie crashes into the mat face first, as Ana quickly goes for the cover.

Zombie is able to kick out, shoving Ana off of her as she gets back to her feet. A wristlock from Ana catches her off guard, and the proximity to her corner allows her to tag Bronx back into the match. With her right arm extended, Bronx hops into the ring and delivers a swift elbow to Kimitsu’s arm! Kimitsu quickly holds her arm in pain, but fires back with a left hand that stuns Bronx! The 4CW Champion tries to attack again, but Zombie catches him with a Rolling Savate Kick! Bronx falls right to his ass, as Zombie follows that up with a hard kick to the side of his head. With Bronx down, Zombie quickly moves in to cover him!

With Bronx still down, Persephone calls for the tag. Kimitsu looks over, and quickly tags herself out. The crowd begins to buzz, as Persephone is finally squaring off with Bronx Valescence in a 4CW ring. She puts up her hands, calling for Bronx to fight her, as he gets back up to his feet. He looks around, sort of confused, even looking over towards Bryan. Bryan calls for them to continue the match, as Bronx sort of stands there. Persephone shoots in, taking Bronx by surprise and taking his back. He quickly retaliates, spinning around and throwing her with a German Suplex. Surprisingly, Persephone lands on her feet! The crowd seems shocked, and even Bronx has to give her a nod for that.
Persephone says something to Bronx, and lays into him with a hard Forearm Shot. Bronx fires back with one of his own, but Persephone responds with an open hand chop to his chest. She tries taking him down with a striking combination, but Bronx seems to absorb most of the blows. He seems to be unsure of how to continue, with Bryan watching in the ring. He tells him to fight, as Marquis charges in and drop him with a Swinging Neckbreaker!
JOHNSON: ”Look at Persephone go!”
VASSA: ”You know, Bronx seemed a little hesitant there. You have to think that he’s gotten that out of his system quick now.”
Persephone holds her hands out, having finally gotten the better of the champion. She taunts the crowd for a second, and even plants an almost over the top kiss on Bryan! While there is good intention there, it’s obviously done to draw the ire of Bronx, as he looks on. Bryan stands there, feeling quite good from the kiss, as Bronx gets back to his feet. Not wanting to be upstaged, Bronx quickly grabs Bryan and plants a kiss on HIM!
JOHNSON: ”Woah!”
VASSA: ”Bronx said he wasn’t scared of kissing dudes! That’s our 4CW Champion!”
The crowd certainly seems to enjoy it, and Persephone looks on in shock. Maybe annoyance, or arousal, possibly both. Either way, she doesn’t waste any time, running full speed into Bronx with a Charging Forearm! Bronx falls right into his corner, as Persephone begins to put the boots to him! She places her sole on his throat, choking him as Bryan steps in. He calls for her to break the hold, staying firmly neutral in this match so far. Ana is able to make a tag, shoving Persephone away as she gets into the ring. Ana has a few words for Bryan it seems, as Bronx gets back to his corner.
Ana tries to drag Persephone back to the middle of the ring, but Marquis still has some fight in her. She attacks Ana with a striking combination, stunning Ana for a moment. Persephone tries lifting Ana up for a Hip Toss, but Ana lands on her feet. Ana quickly pushes Marquis to the ropes, using the top rope to choke her! Bryan Williams quickly intervenes, immediately breaking up the hold. Persephone gets a moment to recover, tagging Kimitsu back into the match. Ana stays busy with Bryan Williams, arguing with him over the choke hold. It’s enough to distract Ana from Kimitsu, who blasts her with a Running Dropkick! Ana falls out of the ring, as Kimitsu slides to the outside.
JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu in control now, she’s all over Ana.”
VASSA: ”Ana needs to stay focus, and stop goddamn yelling at bryan.”
Kimitsu is in full control, as Ana tries to get back to her feet. She stuns Ana with an Elbow to her back, and immediately whips Ana into the ring barricade! Ana lands hard, as Kimitsu follows that up with another Running Dropkick! Bryan looks on, calling for both to get back into the ring. He’s lax on the count, not wanting to end this match by countout. Kimitsu looks on, as she waits for Ana to get back up. She does, and smartly does not charge for Kimitsu. Instead she closes the distance, ducking under a clothesline attempt and landing a harsh kick to the ribs of Kimitsu. Ana sends her hard into the ring apron, and begins to use her forearm to choke Kimitsu! Again, Bryan is right there to break it up. Ana immediately ripping into him, as Bryan holds back.
Kimitsu rolls back into the ring, and wisely rolls towards her corner. Ana sees this, and tries to break conversation with Bryan Williams. Ana watches as Persephone is able to tag back into the match, she screeches out of frustration as Marquis quickly rushes over towards her. Bryan gets out of the way, as Ana slides back under the bottom rope. She is able to take Marquis down, but Marquis is able to flip her back over. In a mounted position, Persephone begins to rain down punches on Ana as she tries to protect herself! Eventually Ana is able to get back up, and connects with a Hook Kick that knocks Marquis down!
JOHNSON: ”Big kick from Ana!”
VASSA: ”That might have been exactly what they needed.”
Ana smirks, as she looks over at Bryan. She throws out a kick towards Persephone, who moves out of the way. Marquis tries getting back up, but Ana grabs her and brings her down to the mat with a Fisherman DDT. Persephone rolls from the move, but smartly heads to her corner. Kimitsu immediately tags herself back into the match. Ana charges Kimitsu, ducking under a clothesline attempt as she runs to the other side of the ropes. Bronx is able to tag himself in, as Ana shoots back towards Kimitsu. Kimitsu keeps her focus on Ana, she ducks under another clothesline attempts and runs towards the opposite side. Bronx quickly gets into the ring, behind the unaware Kimitsu, as Ana runs right into a superkick from Kimitsu! Kimitsu gets to her feet, and eats a superkick from Bronx! Zombie crashes to the mat, as Bronx quickly covers her!

Persephone breaks it up!
Marquis quickly runs back to her corner, after landing a brutal Double Stomp on the back of Bronx’s head. Bronx doesn’t know what hit him, he lays there as Zombie tries to collect herself. Persephone Marquis stands in the corner, looking fired up to get back into the match. Bronx is starting to collect himself as well, he sees Ana back in their corner and makes his way towards her. It seems that Bronx is going to get to his partner first, and does! Ana leaps into the ring, but Zombie makes the tag! Marquis rushes in, and knocks Ana down with a Running High Knee!
JOHNSON: ”Persephone is taking back control of this match!”
VASSA: ”She’s on fire right now!”
Bronx tries to get back into the ring, but Marquis knocks him out of the ring with a Running High Knee! Ana is back up to her feet, but she’s quickly taken down with a Spring Diety! The crowd is on fire, cheering loudly as Persephone Marquis quickly covers Ana for the pin!

Ana easily kicks out, but Persephone Marquis isn’t going to be giving up right now. She picks Ana back up to her feet, and drops her to the mat with a Cattle Sacrifice! The double knee backbreaker puts Ana in a bad way, as Bryan quickly drops down to make the count!

Another kickout from Ana, but Marquis is completely fired up now! She readies herself, everyone looking on as Ana staggers up to her feet. In perfect position for that Springboard Tornado DDT!
JOHNSON: ”Oh, here it comes Petty Cash could end this match right now!”
VASSA: ”Watch out Ana!”
Marquis leaps onto the middle rope, trying to connect for the Petty Cash, but Ana blocks it! Ana tosses Marquis off of her, sending her crashing to the mat face first. Only done to get her a chance to recover, she takes a quick breather and goes to tag Bronx back into this match. Ana is suddenly stopped in her tracks, as Persephone Marquis has grabbed onto her ring gear! She looks around frantically, wondering exactly what is happening. Marquis quickly pulls her into a German Suplex, the suplex dropping Ana head first!
JOHNSON: ”Where in the hell did that come from?!”
VASSA: ”Probably training with Bryan, I’d imagine.”
Marquis looks to her corner, Kimitsu jumping up and down at the chance to get back into this match. She rushes over, and brings Zombie back into the action! Zombie looks to connect with that Standing Frankensteiner. Ana suddenly strikes out, a throat thrust catches Kimitsu off guard, allowing Ana to connect with a Wolf Down! The Hurricanrana Driver plants Zombie hard into the ring. Giving Ana enough time to rush to her corner, bringing Bronx back into the match! Kimitsu barely gets up to her feet, and eats a Bicycle Knee from Bronx Valescence! Zombie falls to the mat, as Bronx runs over and knocks Marquis off of the apron! He quickly moves in to cover Zombie for the pin!

Bronx, unsure of what to do next, looks over at Ana. She’s yelling something at Bryan, who continues to stay quiet. Bronx, trying to get control of the situation, walks over to calm her down. It doesn’t seem to be working, as Ana tags herself back into the match!
Ana stands there, stalking her opponent to finish this match, as Zombie gets to her knees. Ana runs to the ropes, looking to connect with her kick, but Zombie connects with a Sling Blade out of nowhere! Ana is laid out for the moment, as Zombie takes a second to recover. Marquis, back in her corner, calls for the tag. She reaches out, as Zombie slowly crawls towards her. Ana doesn’t look to move an inch, as Persephone is tagged back into the match!
JOHNSON: ”Marquis is back in this match!”
VASSA: ”Ana might be in trouble here!”
Marquis climbs up to the top rope, ready to crash down onto Ana with a Double Foot Stomp. Ana moves, as Marquis rolls back to her feet. Ana gets up, and charges at Persephone, but Persephone connects with a High Knee. Ana stumbles backwards, falling into the ropes and rebounding with a Lariat! It connects something fierce, as Marquis tumbles to the mat. Ana quickly makes a cover, as Bryan drops down to make the count.

Marquis kicks out, as Ana immediately shouts something at Bryan. It seems that she felt like he was counting too slow, but Bryan is finally quick to retort back. Things are getting heated, as Ana has some choice words for Bryan in the ring. Marquis lays on the mat, still out of it as Bronx tries to get Ana’s attention. She goes to tag in Bronx, while Bryan continues to say something. It seems to catch Ana’s ire, as she stops. Ana turns around, walks up and SPITS IN BRYAN’S FACE!
VASSA: ”Not again! Bronx, control your partner!”
JOHNSON: ”Things have boiled over here folks, and Ana has just spit right in Bryan’s face.”
VASSA: ”Things are about to get out of hand here!”
Marquis quickly jumps back into the match, connecting with a Forearm that knocks Ana backwards, Bronx tagging himself back in. Persephone, with Ana in position, goes for the Petty Cash, but Ana catches her and tosses her to the mat! With some distance between the two, Ana sets herself up to connect with She Was Only Seventeen. She rushes towards Marquis, but BRYAN STEPS IN THE WAY AND TAKES THE KICK! He goes down hard, as Ana looks on in confusion. As Ana stands there she’s drilled into the mat with the PETTY CASH! The DDT slams her head first, as Persephone tags Kimitsu back into the match. They aren’t aware that Bronx is waiting, as Ana has been tagged out!
VASSA: ”Look at what you did, Ana! You little jerk!”
Persephone goes to check on Bryan, as Kimitsu picks Ana back up to her feet. She suddenly realizes that Bronx is the legal man, as he connects with a Top Rope Dropkick! Kimitsu is sent flying, as Bronx grabs Persephone and tosses her out of the ring! Quickly, he charges towards Kimitsu, who’s getting back up to her feet and connects with the VALESCENCE’S VICTORY! The DDT lands, planting Zombie into the mat. Bronx quickly covers her, but discovers that there’s no referee to make the count! Bronx looks upset, doing his best to get Bryan back up. It takes some time, but eventually he’s able to get Bryan back up. Bronx goes back to cover, as Bryan makes his way to count!

Kimitsu isn’t done yet, and this crowd is loving it! Bronx is shocked, certainly thinking that the match was won. Not ready to give up just yet, he pulls Kimitsu towards the nearby corner. Bronx is setting himself up to finish this match, as he starts to climb back up. Persephone is back up, though, and she attacks Bronx! Several punches connect, slowing Bronx down for a moment. Ana, having gotten back into the match herself, grabs Marquis and pulls her down from the apron! Ana quickly enters the ring, as Zombie is getting back to her feet. Zombie rushes towards Ana, who ducks and runs to the opposite side of the ring. Zombie turns back around, as Ana connects with SHE WAS ONLY SEVENTEEN!!
JOHNSON: ”She Was Only Seventeen connects!”
VASSA: ”Kimitsu is down!”
The kick sends Kimitsu for a loop, as Marquis gets back into the ring. She clotheslines Ana over the top rope, sending her spilling to the floor. Bronx watches, as he tries to recover. Persephone looks annoyed, as she charges over towards Bronx. He connects with a kick, jumping down from the turnbuckle to send her over the top rope! With everyone cleared, and out of the way, he quickly scales to the top! Setting himself up for the True Light’s Flight, Bronx easily connects as Kimitsu still hasn’t recovered. Bronx quickly moves to make the cover, as Bryan slowly falls into position. On the outside Persephone tries to get back into the ring, but Ana grabs her legs and pulls her back outside!

“Starboy” begins to play, as Bronx gets back to his feet. His arm raised high in the air, as he celebrates his victory. Ana and Marquis continue to fight on the outside, as Ana clobbers her with a right hand. The two are fighting it out, even after the bell has sounded. Bronx, staying in the ring, yells for Ana to stop. Bryan, seeing all of this, immediately leaves the ring. Bronx tries to stop him, but it’s too late. His referee shirt has come off, as he leaves the ring. Ana turns around, and is LEVELED BY A SUPERKICK FROM BRYAN!
VASSA: ”I think that’s revenge from earlier. Bryan was only going to take so much here tonight!”
JOHNSON: ”Bronx and Ana get the win, but Bryan just sent a big message to Anastasia Hayden here tonight! He’s walking out with Persephone, I don’t think any of this is over folks!”
VASSA: ”I don’t think so either, Bronx may have pinned Kimitsu but Marquis gave him more than enough trouble.”
Everyone is still stunned, as Bryan helps Persephone up to her feet. Ana stays on the ground, holding her jaw as the two begin to walk to the back. Persephone, quickly recovering, immediately begins to stand tall as she looks out at Bronx. The two don’t seem to break eye contact, but we immediately notice that Bryan and Ana are in a death stare as well.
JOHNSON: ”Wow, Winter Wasteland is certainly shaping up to be a thriller. These fans want to see Bronx and Persephone in the ring, I’m not sure any of us can wait!”
VASSA: ”We got a little teaser tonight, and what a teaser that was!”
JOHNSON: ”What does this mean for Bryan and Ana going into Winter Wasteland?!”
VASSA: ”I’ll tell you exactly what it means even though I have no confirmation whatsoever. I’m pretty sure we’re going to see a third match between Ana and Bryan, their second inside of a 4CW ring!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s if Persephone doesn’t get to her first.”
VASSA: ”She has enough on her plate with Bronx and the 4CW Championship at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: ”You saw that scuffle at ringside moments ago.”
VASSA: ”I just saw a whole lot at ringside moments ago. Hell, this entire night has been full or surprises and excitement!”
JOHNSON: ”You can say that again! Not really, but you know what I mean.”
VASSA: ”Perry already did a rundown of what matches are in the works for Winter Wasteland at the start of the show. Add Ana and Bryan into the mix and good God things get even better! What’s going to happen next week?!”
JOHNSON: ”We have one final Adrenaline in two weeks before Winter Wasteland. Anything is bound to happen!”
VASSA: ”We still don’t have anything concrete for the XTV and Tag Team but those are already rolling in motion.”
JOHNSON: ”Not to mention we have Amber Ryan and Jair Hopkins going head to head in two weeks to determine who will challenge Kimitsu for the Pride Championship.”
VASSA: ”As they say in Game of Thrones. Winter is Coming.”
JOHNSON: ”Check your calendar Vinny because Winter is here! Winter Wasteland is right around the corner!”
VASSA: ”Just one more Adrenaline to set everything in stone for Wasteland. I can’t wait!”
JOHNSON: ”You won’t have to much longer. That’s all the time we have for tonight ladies and gentlemen. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head to the PPG Paints Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania!”
VASSA: ”Home of a real football team and going to be home to 4CW December thirteenth!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s it folks. We’ll see you in two weeks. I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Goodnight!”
The camera quickly cut back to the final moments of the show where everyone is still staring each other down in their own silence as the fans surrounding them cheer as loud as they can.
“We want more! … We want more! … We want more!”

Slowly, the picture then begins to transition to a black screen as the chanting is still heard in the background. Second by second, the noise level gets quieter and quieter before total silence fills the airwaves, shortly followed by the Showtime logo and closing credits.