ADRENALINE E78 (132)

JANUARY 10TH, 2018 SMOOTHIE KING CENTER NEW ORLEANS, LA

In the background of nothing but a black screen, “Bulls On Parade” by Rage Against the Machine plays. The sound grows louder and lower before the 4CW logo flashes instantly. The picture then opens to an overhead shot of the Smoothie King Center. Panning from one side to the other, the camera zooms in on various signs held throughout the sea of people.

JANUARY 10TH
01 / 10
10-1=9
10+1=11
9 1 1

MARSHMALLOW
MAN DAKOTA

I CAME FOR
H O N O R ‘ S
ADRENALINE

ENGAGED &
EXPECTING
SOMEONE
ELSE’S BABY

The picture then changes to a shot directly in front of the announcers booth. Behind the booth, as always, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa patiently await the start of the show.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening Twenty-Eighteen and welcome to 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! We’re coming to you live tonight from the Smoothie Kind Center in New Orleans, Louisiana!”

JOHNSON: ”And boy oh boy do we have quite an evening in store for you all tonight.”

VASSA: ”We coming fresh off of Winter Wasteland, the last event of Twenty-Seventeen with our first card of the New Year that could arguably be considered pay-per-view quality.”

JOHNSON: ”That isn’t anything new! Adrenaline has become known as of late for holding stacked, pay-per-view quality matches from top to bottom. That’s no secret.”

VASSA: ”Of course it isn’t. But there is one secret and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

JOHNSON: ”What’s that, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”I was told that we are to cut the opening introductions rather short tonight. Why is that? What’s going on? Who are they trying to silence?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but we have our Twenty-Seventeen Year End Awards ceremony tonight. It’s been scheduled to open tonight’s first event of the year.”

VASSA: ”But when are we supposed to go over Winter Wasteland and the upcoming card for tonight?”

JOHNSON: ”If you don’t know what happened at Winter Wasteland then shame on you! As for tonight, it’s a loaded card that will leave no one disappointed!”

VASSA: ”This sounds like a scam! I’m getting to the bottom of this!”

The picture transitions from the announcers booth at ringside to a clear shot of the entrance stage. Just like at Winter Wasteland two weeks ago, there is a podium standing in the center. The lights throughout the arena slowly begin to dim until there is nothing left but a spotlight shining down upon the podium. The big screens above the entrance way begin to flicker before a an emblem comes into focus, stretched across all four.

JOHNSON: ”See Vinny, there’s nothing to get to the bottom of.”

VASSA: ”Well I’ll be damned, that does say awards.”

JOHNSON: ”I told you. Have I ever lied to you?”

VASSA: ”All the fucking time as a matter of fact! There was that one time you told me the chick at the bar was giving me the ‘fuck me eyes’ and turned out she just had something in her eye.”

JOHNSON: ”I did no such thing!”

VASSA: ”Did too! I don’t even want to talk about it. Let’s get on with the damn ceremony!”

Out from the back, Perry Wallace steps through the curtain and at his side is a familiar face from two weeks ago who was seen with at Winter Wasteland. The two walk side by side until stopping just before the podium. After a brief interaction between the two, Perry steps forward, taking his place at the podium.

WALLACE: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’d like to take a short moment to thank you all for joining us here tonight as Adrenaline steps forward into not only a new year for each and every one of us, but a new year for 4CW as well. 4CW hasn’t visited these parts since Fright Night in October of Twenty-Sixteen. Here we are, over a year later, stronger as a company than we were that short time ago.”

Reaching underneath the podium, he pulls out a bottle of water. After twisting the top off, he takes a small drink before continuing.

WALLACE: ”As you all saw two weeks ago, 4CW held its second annual Hall of Fame induction where Jair Hopkins and Jason Cashe joined the ranks along with Dakota Smith. Tonight, I would like to take this time to announce the Twenty-Seventeen Year End Awards. You all know the ones, as you’ve seen the polls leading up to year end. Before we dive in forehead first like someone else we all know–“

Cutting him off in mid-sentence, Dr. Patton delivers a gentle elbow to the side of Perry’s arm. He turns to face her, only to then lower his head for a short moment before turning back to the podium.

WALLACE: ”Excuse me folks, it seems I forgot my manners. Where was I? Oh yeah, the Twenty-Seventeen Awards. In just a few short moments we have two guest announcers lined up for you all, and another one that should be out here now and isn’t. You all may recognize them, as you should, but before I introduce our guests, I’d like to introduce you all to someone else.”

He turns to Dr. Patton, motioning for her to join him by his side at the podium.

WALLACE: ”Now we all know there has been some low down, dirty sh– things that have happened in 4CW’s history over the four years we’ve been taking the wrestling world by storm. Heinous acts from various individuals asserting their dominance in some form or fashion. Some of you may think to yourselves, what is wrong with them, or these people need therapy. Well… that’s where she comes in. Not only has this lovely woman, Antonia Patton, been here for me throughout the lies and schemes of a fictitious Twitter marriage, she has also come to 4CW to offer her services to those in need of some guidance, but not like a guidance counselor or anything. You know what, I think you can explain this better than I can.”

Dr. Patton calmly steps forward to take Perry’s place at the podium while presenting a warm smile in a form of greeting.

PATTON: ”Thank you, Perry for the introduction and good evening to you all. I know a lot of curiosity has been floating around since my arrival and there is no cause for any alarm or worries because I come in peace. I understand that the wrestling business can be a hostile environment and sometimes a lot of people simply can not handle it, taking away a lot of negativity from it or even bringing in negativity from personal lives outside of the ring that may affect your business life. For the moment, I am just here as a friend, a listening ear and a shoulder for anyone who would like to talk about their issues because bottling it all in can cause a lot of damage later on when you do not deal with your issues. And never be afraid to ask for help, there is nothing wrong with it nor will anyone look down on you for it. No pressure, of course… just know that I am here and that you can find me backstage at almost every upcoming event unless something comes up. Don’t be afraid to book an appointment, I don’t bite.”

Cutting his eyes to her, a smirk forms across Perry’s face.

WALLACE: ”She says she doesn’t but that’s besides the point! So ladies and gents, let’s introduce our guests. We have the Future Amazing Great, Jett Wilder, and another face you haven’t seen in a 4CW ring for some time, please give it up for Tara Davi–Michaels!”

Walking out from the back comes Tara Michaels to a chorus of welcoming cheers followed up quickly by the ensuing boos as Jett Wilder follows behind her. His plan clearly evident as he ensures that he gets to follow Tara up to the podium, a reminder that he is still very much in the rehab stages for his addiction. Walking up to the podium first, Tara enjoys the cheers standing in front of the microphone. The tension between the two high, even more so now given how Jett and her sister’s relationship ended. Tara is about to speak into the microphone but Jett gives her a slight bump to take her over.

WILDER: ”Welcome one and all to the two thousand seventeen awards show for 4CW! I am so honored to be here with my friend Tara…To announce these awards tonight. It’s been a crazy year here in 4CW. A year that saw Bronx lose to Mariano Fernandez…You all remember that right?”

Jett takes a moment to remind everyone of the shoe in for biggest upset of the year, his real motives much more clear.

WILDER: ”It was a year that saw countless champions come and go. Was yet another year of wondering if Jair and Jason are ever going to retire. Was a year that saw me really grow as a man and I promise I will continue to grow. Two thousand and seventeen was another amazing year for 4CW, the very best company in wrestling today. And while this may be a celebration of the past, all that happened led to 4CW getting ready to top it all again here this year. I will be better… I will grow…”

Looking around the crowd looking for their cheers and approval, knowing he is trying to kick this addiction. Failing miserably as he mentions grow and takes a glance back at Tara before snapping back into it.

WILDER: ”But enough about that I know that there were a lot of great nominee’s in some of these great categories tonight. Starting of course with the funniest moment of the year. Who could forget such moments as when I made Matthias quit after trolling him about the frenzy for months. Or when I conquered Marquis for the Uno Championship. Or when I walked out to that ring and got a standing ovation for my first time with…”

Taking a glance over at Tara who takes a step towards him, seeming ready to get back into action with a punch before Jett grabs the envelope opening it quickly to change the subject.

WILDER: ”The winner is….Vossler! For his return only to yet again rage quit! I know some of you are probably asking who Vossler is but thankfully you’ll never have to actually find out. Unless he looks to retain this award next year!”

Stepping away giving the podium back to Tara to take over, for the next category also wanting to get away from her before she gets back at him for past transgressions.

MICHAELS: ”That Jett sure loves to talk, doesn’t he? How about we shift the focus now towards the most shocking moment of the year for 2017 here in 4CW! Shocking the audience is something we just love to do here, so how can we pick just one moment? I can’t imagine that it must have been easy, but somehow we managed to get it done.”

Tara smiles as she opens up the envelope she is holding in her hands.

MICHAELS: ”The most shocking moment of the year is no doubt the moment that Manny became 4CW champion and defeated our current champion Bronx! Manny’s reign was short, but it’s not one which will be forgotten any time soon, it had everyone talking. Almost all of Twitter went up in flames the day after his victory. I even remember how my good friend Jett told everyone that he was going to retire from this business if Manny were to do the impossible and defeat Bronx. Of course Jett hasn’t always been the best when it comes to keeping his word, isn’t that right?”

She looks back over towards Jett with one eyebrow slightly raised as he chuckles nervously before stepping up towards the podium and jumping in quickly in order to change the subject.

WILDER: ”Anyways, onto the next category that being the best match of the year! The fans have spoken and they yet again couldn’t make a firm choice. So the winners are tied that being the Warzone of Horrors and Bronx vs Manny that took place at Fright Night! That was the match that my pal, my buddy, Marquis dominated. And that was also the one where Bronx came back and overcame the demons of that shocking, embarrassing, title reign ruining loss to Mariano in their first contest!”

Tossing that envelope to the side carelessly and opening up the next one.

WILDER: ”And of course if it had the two top rated matches on it…It only makes sense that the winner of the best show of the year was none other than Fright Night. Who would have thought that a company known for hosting such wrestlers as Dakota Smith, Viduus, and Freddy Krueger himself Brandon Banks would have their biggest show on Halloween.”

Tara shakes her head as she laughs a bit before pushing Jett to the side so that she can be the one to announce the next winner. She holds up the envelope and waves it around for the benefit of the audience before she opens it.

MICHAELS: ”This award goes out to the one who was voted most liked wrestler in all of 4CW and I’m happy to announce that the winner is none other than #DaTrollGuy himself, Mariano Fernandez! He’s had quite the year in 4CW and there’s no doubt that he’s made quite a lot of friends. Mostly because everyone enjoys picking on him for their own personal amusement. Either way, he’s always a good sport about it, so how can you not like someone like Manny? The fans all seem to agree!”

Shaking his head seeming furious at the fans vote for most liked wrestler of the year, looking at the envelope that Tara opened to confirmed she didn’t go rogue.

WILDER: ”You sure we didn’t get it swapped like the Oscars last year…Anyways! I don’t know who voted for that, or how I didn’t get nominated. But now to the next award the award for the most vile disgusting piece of craps in 4CW, and also me for some reason…These list of people are the worst of the worst. Whether it be a racist, whether it be a guy who can’t take a joke, whether it be a guy who covered for a pedo, whether it be a guy you should never take a nap around. To me, it seemed like he was taking a nap every time he wrestled here, but who am I to judge. Anyways, these wrestlers were the very worst that 4CW had to offer, and in the end the winner is…”

Opening the crease unsure if he should be happy or sad about the result.

WILDER: ”It appears that if you do all those things. The very worst is being a quitter so the winner for most hated of the year is Vossler himself! I know that Vossler complained a lot about not being able to win over Bronx and countless others. So if you are out there somewhere Vossler, you are finally a winner. We hate you buddy…”

Giving a wink to the camera, knowing Vossler is watching somewhere out there, even winning two awards probably not enough to make him happy.

MICHAELS: ”Now that we’re done giving Vossler his final moments of fame, it’s time to move on to the breakout stars of the year! 2017 was a great year for 4CW. There was a lot of people who made their presence felt and that makes it more difficult to determine just who exactly stands out the most. Both on Adrenaline and Octane.”

Tara grabs onto the envelope before Jett gets the chance which doesn’t sit too well with him as he rolls his eyes slightly while she is opening the envelope.

MICHAELS: ”The breakout star of Adrenaline for 2017 is someone who could very well be a future 4CW Champion. Anastasia Hayden! A dominant year with some dominant wins to her name. I don’t think there’s much of anything that can stop her at this point.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat cuts off the duo of Tara Michaels and Jett Wilder as Jimmy Walker emerges with a smile on his face. After all, it’s not often that he makes an appearance on the actual B-Show, and not the one that the members of the Adrenaline roster try to call the B-show. Don’t pay any attention to the fact that Adrenaline has taken home pretty much every award up to this point except for the Vossler award and nobody wants to acknowledge his existence anymore than they already have. The point? It’s an inaccurate sample. Octane was only around for a portion of the year instead of the entire year, so its body of work is a smaller sample. Really, Adrenaline had an unfair advantage. But how the hell else would Perry Wallace ever be successful if he didn’t talk forever and have unfair advantages in every situation he came into.

WALKER: ”Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, parents who are willing to waste their money on a lesser product when you could be taking a nice family vacation to Concord, North Carolina to see the best brand that 4CW has to offer, and that’s Octane..”

He pauses as he gets a good amount of boo’s for hyping the other show. With an envelope in one hand and another item in his other hand, hidden under a big towel that has the Octane logo on it, Jimmy finally continues.

WALKER: ”Swear I saw that thick booty bitch walking around here somewhere. She’s been eating that Texas beef. Where she go? I’ll let her suck my dick in the back of my limo just like I did Kaysie.”

Looking around for a moment, he happens to spot Tara and waves her off.

WALKER: ”I didn’t mean you, so don’t you give me that look for Christ’s sake.”

A bit uneasily, Jimmy cleared his throat once more and finally got down to business. Obviously he’s been spending way to much time around Perry otherwise his moment to shine and announce the Octane breakout wrestler of the year would have been over well before the point he’s gotten to now.

WALKER: ”The Octane brand was an idea that I pitched to Perry back early in the spring, and after investing a substantial amount of money into this company, Octane became a reality. And while many have ridiculed it over the past six months, I’m happy to say that our ratings have continuously gotten gone up. We’re selling out the Cabarrus Arena every time we go live and here in just a few days we’re going to travel for the very first time, all the way to Memphis, Tennessee, a city that is truly the heart and soul of the professional wrestling business. There are many who could be chosen for this award, and I’m quite proud of that fact. And so… without further delay..”

Jimmy cracked the envelope open after setting the other item down, reading the name on the card inside with ease.

WALKER: ”The Octane Breakout Star is one that I’m shocked by, but it’s well deserved. He brought that old, tired ass Fate championship to Octane and there we’ve revived it. We’ve done away with the old and ushered in a new, worthy championship. Without further adieu… the Octane Breakout Star is none other than….. AMERICAN TOMMY! And as a token of my gratitude and appreciation for him, I’ll be presenting him with this trophy I had made just for him.”

Walker then removed the towel from the object it had been covering to reveal a statue of a foot and a toothbrush. Amused by the trophy and the inscription across the base that read American Tommy, Octane Breakout Star and Champion of Feet, Jimmy raised it up into the air for everyone to see. After a few moments of polite applause he collected everything that he had brought out and disappeared into the backstage area. After all, there were strippers for him to shower with one dollar bills. That’s right. I said one dollar bills. You think he’s going to use more than that? How you think the dude stays rich? Not by blowing big bills on strippers like his name is Perry Wallace.

Shaking his head annoyed at his spot being broken up by Jimmy Walker, Jett returns to the stage to continue.

WILDER: ”And now for our very prestigious award. The one going to the tag team that stayed together longer than three shows. As a tag team specialist myself. I think all the nominees that worked so hard together deserve credit. But with so many…well like a couple…to choose from. The winner of the Tag Team of the Year is The Hostile Takeover! Congrats boys, look forward to seeing how you two do in your singles careers when you break up.”

Finding all of his jokes hilarious and deeming himself the real host of the evening, Tara his sidekick Jett doesn’t let her back in. Instead jumping to the next category with a smile on his face.

WILDER: ”I am very, very excited to announce this next award. As a lover of all females, I know that 4CW is known for having some of the greatest female wrestlers in the business today. But there is no doubt that there is one that stood above the rest. She is a great friend, a great wrestler, someone that nobody ever wants to mess with. She competed valiantly with Bronx. And there is no doubt she’s going to get back at her ex later tonight. You all know who it is…”

Proceeding to open the envelope, looking around almost starting to read out the name before it even pulls open.

WILDER: ”Mad Mon—Anastasia Hayden! Umm congratulations. You have really done a great job and good luck against Bronx.”

Walking off to the side, shaking his head flabbergasted by how the voting has gone tonight. Tara simply shakes her head before she steps back up to the podium having the chance to speak instead of Jett always being the one to hog the spotlight.

MICHAELS: ”We know who the female wrestler of the year is and now it’s time to find out who the male wrestler of the year is…”

Tara swiftly opens the envelope before she looks inside to announce the winner.

MICHAELS: ”2017’s Male Wrestler of the Year for 4CW is none other than the reigning 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence! An impressive 2017 for him and he’s well on his way to do just the same here in 2018.”

With Jett and Tara having finished their announcements for the evening, they step away from the podium, opening it up to Perry and Ms. Patton who have taken their place at it once again.

WALLACE: ”That only leaves us one more end of the year award to announce and that just so happens to be Wrestler of the Year.”

Grabbing the envelope sitting on the podium, he looks down at it for a brief moment in his hand before leaning forward to the microphone once more.

WALLACE: ”I’d like a very special someone to make this announcement.”

Turning to face Dr. Patton, he hands her the envelope before taking a step back and giving her the podium all to herself. She looks around with that shining smile of hers and calm eyes while holding the envelope in her hands after she opens it, smiles at the name and begins the hyping.

PATTON: ”This person worked so hard this year endlessly to cement himself as one of the best in professional wrestling. Defying all odds, overcoming all obstacles presented to him and always putting on such a gratifying performance that leaves fans wanting more every time he enters the ring. In a league all of his own, he is someone that continues to rise above the hate and his carelessly for the irrelevant stuff is what shields him from paying attention to the ones who love to hate him but simply just can’t stand on his level. Please give it up for our wrestler of the year….. BRONX VALESCENCE!”

And with that, we have our Twenty-Seventeen Year End Awards. The lights shining down onto the podium then begins to slowly dim until completely turning off, leaving the arena in a short moment of darkness before the picture transition backstage.

After awards are announced, the stranger things remix to “Star Boy” hits on the house system and the Nawlins crowd lights up for Bronxy V who slinks through the curtains with both arms out before he plays to the crowd a bit, more lively tonight than he usually is. He slaps hands with the crowd. He makes a “RAKE IT UP” motion before he gets into the ring and taps the microphone a few times. As his music lowers he basks in the cheers before he finally looks up with a smile.

VALESCENCE: “You know, I could sit out here and tell everyone what an honor it is to pull down so many awards here tonight, but instead I’m going to tell you guys something that nobody but a few people know. I came back to 4CW with a few truths in mind. I accepted the fact that people were better than me. I accepted the fact that I would take some losses that I didn’t think were feasible. I knew that to last, I had to take care of myself both mentally and physically because this place will rip away both so quickly. So since last December I’ve been wrestling knowing these truths. And so, my first big match back with 4CW, I got pinned by Johnny Evil right here in this ring and I watched the tag team championships slip from my fingertips…”

He looked down at his gloved hands.

VALESCENCE: “I had a chance for redemption in the South Beach Brawl cup, but something had changed for me. I hit a wall. I was already hurting, I was sick at the time and dealing with some things, and going into my match with Adrian Tanner Jr. Much like my match against Drew Stevenson the first time around, I told myself that my match with Tanner would be my last and I would step away from 4CW for good. A failure. A coward and I would accept the fact that I would never be a top guy here, and I didn’t have what it takes.”

The crowd booed, he nodded as he looked around.

VALESCENCE: “And you know? I stuck around. I brought through, and that’s why it means a little more to me. That’s why it means a little more to be a two-time 4CW champion. That’s why it means more to be the 2017 Male and Wrestler of the Year. That’s why it matters a little more. Not because of ego, not because of Bronxy V, but because of how close I was to quitting, because of how close I was to letting it all go. And in the process of winning these awards and this title. I took out the 2016 female of the year, and I step to the 2016 male and wrestler of the year tonight in Jair Hopkins…”

Bronx faces the entrance and raises a hand. There’s a pop for Jair and he nods in agreement.

VALESCENCE: “Tonight, you find out my goal for 2018, and that’s to be just as enthusiastic and work just as hard as I did in 2017, to try and stay atop this 4CW mountain…. and oh yeah.”

As he turns away from the entrance he looks into hard camera and smirks.

VALESCENCE: “Anastasia Hayden. I hope you’re ready to set the world on fire, because I’ve never been more ready for a match in my entire life…”

Nodding, Bronx peeled the 4CW title off of his waist and held it up in the air before he handed it to the referee and then motioned for Jair to come on out as he bounced off the ropes a few times and then went to his corner to relax. He points to the entrance with a finger gun and pulls the trigger.

The back doors of the Smoothie King Center swing open, and a small figure with a gym bag and a pulled up black hoodie walks into the building. The focus is on them as they walk through the backstage area, steadily approaching the camera; when they draw near, they stop, and pull the hood back… revealing the mask of Nurse Kinsley.

KINSLEY: ”Let me guess… you want a word, right? You want some hot pre-match hype, something to whet your appetite for the Mortal Kombat nonsense that’s gonna happen later. You know, I had something, I did–I had a whole rant prepared, but on the drive here… on the drive here, I kept thinking about it, and now I’m torn.”

Kinsley nods rapidly, casting a glance aside before looking back to the camera.

KINSLEY: ”See, on the one hand–after over a month of Aidan Carlisle dismissing me and Amber Ryan as hardly worth her time, she was noticeably and comically butt hurt about us shrugging her off in the lead up to TONIGHT. I’m tempted, oh so very tempted, to keep playing that card–to just blow her off and start ranting about how tonight, TONIGHT, Nurse Kinsley steps into the ring with the Distorted Angel… and tonight, Nurse Kinsley kills a legend. But at the same time…”

Kinsley looks aside, then draws her attention back to the camera.

KINSLEY: ”At the same time, I feel like there’s one last chance to get through to the Alpha Bitch. She’s a good wrestler, but a shit person. …But a good wrestler, and I can admit that because I’m a better person than Aidan Carlisle. She fails to realize that when you go out of your way, at every conceivable turn, at every possible angle to frame your enemies as garbage competitors, it becomes meaningless when you beat them. If you win tonight, Aidan, who gives a shit? Not a rhetorical question, I’m genuinely curious.

You’ve worked so hard to make it abundantly clear that neither me nor Amber are worth your time, so if–and this is hard to imagine, I know, but bear with me–IF you pin me… what good does it do you? And to be fair, you bragged about beating Erica Cambry in the same breath you talked about how shit she is, so maybe you’re just too dumb to realize how this all sounds from the outside. By the same token, when–and I do mean… WHEN, I pin you, or I pin Amber, or I mangle both of your corpses together like those guys in Hellraiser: Bloodline, how’s that going to look? How’s it look that I beat you the first time?”

Harlow pauses, sighing into her mask.

KINSLEY: ”You’re a poison. You poison everything you touch. You can’t rise, you can’t elevate yourself, so you settle for bringing down everyone else even if it means drowning with them. Tonight’s not just the night I beat a hardcore legend, tonight’s not just the night I let these slobbering shitstains in Louisana know who I am, tonight’s not JUST the night I paint the canvas red with angel blood… but it’s also the night I show the world what the woman in the nurse costume does to POISON.”

Harlow shoves her hand forward, suddenly cutting off the view of the backstage camera.

OPENING MATCH
JAIR HOPKINS VS. BRONX VALESCENCE

POWERS: ”Adrenaline! I hope you’re ready to start the new year off with a bang!”

”Take it easy”

Arena lights go out as that voice is heard over the PA. The suspenseful start to what sounds like a panicky, off-beat heartbeat is heard before the slow introduction to “Everybody Stay Calm” by RTJ comes into play. Red and white shuffling of the lights flicker, giving that of some sort of dark suspense.

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

“Excusez-moi bitches

I’m lit from the last of the gas, Mike twisted

No sleep for the vicious, key up a cop car just to see mischief

I’m a nut punch wizard

Speed bag your ball bag, leave none in it

We– we got one ambition

Re-up and puff ’til the month go missing”

Loud blast of a pyro occur leading to the rising of white smoke that fills the entrance area. Soon, a body emerges to and through the smoke as it is Hopkins, his hands up high, holding the Pride Championship with a wide grin on his face. He pauses his steps as he slightly grooves to the beat. Glaring down the ramp, he places the title on his shoulder as he trot down the ramp to the ring to which he slides in the ring and immediately takes to climbing the ropes.

“Take it easy partner

Ain’t no chilling in the land of the villains

Ain’t no chilling, ain’t no chilling”

POWERS: ”HAILING from Brooklyn, New York but residing in Los Angeles, California… Standing in at five feet and eleven inches, weighing in at two hundred and eleven pounds… The Pride Champion… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

Holding the title high to the crowd as they cheer for him, he drops down and gives it one last look-over before handing it to the referee. Loosening his muscles, he flexes in the corner as his music dies out.

JOHNSON: “The new 4CW Pride Champion and the newest member of the 4CW Hall of Fame, Jair Hopkins had himself one hell of a night at Winter Wasteland, Vinny.”

VASSA: “You can say that again, Stevie. Not many people can say they became an immortal to end Twenty-Seventeen, but Jair Bear did.”

JOHNSON: “Did you just call him… oh, nevermind.”

The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he pulls his ring jacket back to reveal the 4CW Championship around his waist, he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp, occasionally pointing at the belt and talking trash.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds… He is the 4CW Champion… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Pulling his title belt off with one hand, he opens his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit, waiting for the referee to come over and take his title.

JOHNSON: “Not to be outdone in his own right, our 4CW Champion had himself a great ending to Twenty-seventeen as well. Bronx Valescence defeating the challenger Persephone Marquis and retaining his title belt.”

VASSA: “Let’s not look past the fact that at the end of that match none other than the other half of Worldstar, one Jason Cashe made his presence known. Seems as if Bronx is surrounded by challegeners crawling out of the woodwork, Stevie.”

JOHNSON: “We’ll see those two later on in action tonight in our main event, but we’ve got a hell of a way to kick off Adrenaline in the ring here tonight and a hell of a way to kick off Twenty-Eighteen! Champion against Champion.”

VASSA: “Great to see when the World Champion clashes with the Pride Champion.”

JOHNSON: “There’s the bell and we are set for this one folks… hope you’re all ready at home!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Hopkins and Valescence, champ and champ, begin to move around the ring circling each other standing a few feet apart with the crowd getting behind the anticipation of these two giants of 4CW locking up. There’s a small nod of respect by both before the two go for a collar and elbow tie-up right there, dead center in the ring. After a couple of attempts by both to gain leverage on the other, it is Bronx who is able to get underneath enough and pushes the Pride champion up against the ropes forcing a break. The referee pushes Bronx back with his hands held up backing himself up towards the center.

JOHNSON: “A bit a back and forth here by the two champions. Both men just measuring the other one out.”

VASSA: “It should be noted that at one time it was Bronx who was chasing the then World Champion, Jair Hopkins, for match.”

JOHNSON: “A winding road where the paths seem to cross a lot, Vinny. These two are two some of the top talent in not only 4CW, but in the entire world today.”

Jair comes off of the ropes and the two lock horns again, this time the shoving becomes more like a couple of bucks with horns locked looking for dominance as opposed to a couple of wrestlers looking for an advantage. Hopkins pushes and drops the World Champion down to a knee from the effort, Bronx pops right back up and shoves back keeping the collar and elbow tie-up locked in. Hopkins uses his momentum and shoves the champion up against the ropes forcing the referee to break up the hold once again. This time, however, Jair doesn’t back up willingly to the center of the ring, instead he stands there doing a little jawing with Bronx. Bronx doesn’t seemingly enjoy this and shoves Hopkins away from him.

VASSA: “A little frustration by the World Champion there.”

JOHNSON: “Bronx not liking the lack of respect there shown by Hopkins. Come on, just a little trash talk between competitors.”

The third time the two lock up is like two lions fighting for their pride, both men put everything into finding the correct leverage, one going up, one going down but the two continue to move about the ring. Just as Jair gets backed up towards the corner he is able to shove off and eventually backs Bronx up towards one of the corners. Back towards the center of the ring, Jair drops to a knee which gives Bronx an opening to move to a side headlock position. Hopkins hops back up to a vertical base trying to regain balance and the two back up against the ring ropes. Hopkins slings Bronx into the far side ropes as an escape, and the two collide in the middle of the ring! Neither man gives an inch, which prompts Bronx to point towards the ropes and Jair obliges slinging himself off of the ropes at full speed. Again, the two collide in the middle of the ring neither man giving an inch in the process.

JOHNSON: “A clash of the titans and neither man backing down!”

VASSA: “A couple of alpha dogs in the ring right now, and neither one wants to be the first one to show any signs of backing down.”

JOHNSON: “Something’s gonna give here soon, these two men are capable of putting it into a second gear at any moment.”

Jair is the one who now points to the ropes and Bronx charges towards the ropes full speed, on the rebound Jair doesn’t go for another collison, instead he leapfrogs the incoming Bronx Valescence, on the rebound Hopkins rolls to his back and sends Valescence high into the air with a monkey flip!!

SLLLAMM!!!

Bronx hits the mat backfirst and the impact causes him to spring right back up to his feet holding his back in some serious pain, he stumbles right into a waiting Jair Hopkins who scoops up the World Champion into the air and slams him right to the mat with a scoop slam! Hopkins doesn’t follow that up with a pin attempt, instead he turns his back to the champion and from the mat leaps into the air with a corkscrew moonsault…

SMMACK!!!

…right into the knees of Bronx! Bronx gets them up at the last moment and drives them into the stomach of the Pride Champion knocking the wind out of him in the process.

JOHNSON: “Great counter by the World Champion! Getting those knees up and preventing a huge impactful move there Jair Hopkins.”

VASSA: “Knocking the wind right out of him in the process! Incredible in ring instincts by the World Champ right now.”

Bronx gets back up to his feet just as Jair rolls to a vertical base, without hesitation he unloads with a boot across the back of Jair’s head followed by a couple of others. Bronx pulls Hopkins back to his feet and quickly goes with a front face lock, hooking the arm of Hopkins he lifts Jair up and over with a suplex, but not onto the mat… instead he dumps Hopkins stomach first right into the top ropes! Hopkins dangles feet ot the outside as Bronx pushes downwards onto the ropes and pulls up shoving the rope up into Jair’s stomach once again. He does it a second time and this time he launches Hopkins back into the ring onto his back. Hopkins rolls back to all fours quickly, which allows Bronx to slide in towards his opponent…

SLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…connecting with a sliding DDT!! Bronx drives Jair face first into the mat with a sudden burst which causes Hopkins to roll to his back from the impact, this gives Bronx the first pinning chance as he hooks the leg and covers.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Two and a half and nearly an early pinfall for the World Champion!”

VASSA: “Hopkins waiting until the last moment to throw that shoulder up, making sure to catch as much of hte wind back into his lungs as possible.”

JOHNSON: “Great point there by you Vinny, you’ve got to wonder what sort of nagging injuries these two come into Twenty-Eighteen with. Both men have been through the meat grinder over the past couple of months and the damage adds up.”

Bronx doesn’t seem too upset at the speed of the count, but with the result. He quickly gets back up to his feet and pulls Hopkins backup to a standing position as well, folding over the Pride Champion Bronx double underhooks the arms of the Pride Champion and goes to lift him up into the air. Hopkins is able to counter this by dropping to a knee and sandbagging the World Champion. Bronx lets go of the double underhook and instead opts for a quick kick right into the gut of Hopkins in response, Bronx again goes for the double underhook, but this time Hopkins drops Bronx back first onto the ring with a double leg takedown! Hopkins leaps over the top of Bronx holding onto his legs in a pinning position… the referee dives in as Hopkins tries to get in a fast one…

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

Bronx bridges upwards into the air holding onto Hopkins in the process, as he gets all the way up the two roll through and Bronx has Hopkins once again in a standing headscissors position, this time however it is Bronx who leaps up and over into a sunset flip causing Jair Hopkins to roll onto his head into a pinning combination by Bronx!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

With a clap of his legs and sudden push by Hopkins he reverses it again into a similar position as before, this time before the referee can even dive into position Bronx is already going for the bridge and gets off of the ground before the hand hits the one. This time, however, when the two twist it is Hopkins who ends up in a reversed position with the arms of the World Champion hooked and he flips him over right into his shoulders with a backslide…

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

JOHNSON: “Great back and forth wrestling there, you can see the technical skill that each man possesses… Jair nearly getting a three count on the World Champion.”

VASSA: “A win by Hopkins over the World Champion would of course only add to his growing list of Hall of Fame achievements.”

As Bronx gets up with the help of the ring ropes, Hopkins leaps up and connects with a flying forearm rocking the champion up against the ropes. Bronx stumbles out to where Hopkins is waiting and he walks right into a standing face lock, Hopkins lifts up the World Champion and spins him around into the air…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

…slamming him onto the mat with a spinning reverse facebuster!!

JOHNSON: “Hopkins hits his Bread n’ Butter!”

VASSA: “That could do it here…”

Hopkins makes the cover…

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “No! The Champ kicks out!”

VASSA: “To be clear, the World Champion kicks out. So much gold in that ring right now, hard to keep up with. I’ve got your back though, Vinny.”

Hopkins pulls himself back up to his feet quickly, and in the process pulls the World Champion up with him. Not letting up on Bronx for a moment, Jair quickly hooks in another front face lock and then Bronx’s leg and heaves him up into the air…

SSLLLAM!!!

…crashing to the mat with a fisherman’s suplex! Out of sheer instinct, Bronx hits the mat and rolls to the outside of the ring preventing Jair from following that up any. Jair looks a little ticked at that, but that doesn’t stop him from giving a point towards Bronx on the outside and then charging towards the far side ropes where he picks up a head full of steam and dives up and over the top ropes…

THHHHHHUD!!!

…connecting with a flying crossbody block to the outside onto the World Champion!! Both men are wiped out from the impact, but Bronx clearly taking the worst of it as his head crashes up against the guardrailing on the outside. The crowd erupts for the move and for the effort.

JOHNSON: “Hellacious shot there! From the technical skill inside of the ring to the ability to be as vicious on the outside of the ring, these two are pulling out the stops here tonight.”

VASSA: “The two biggest kids on the block are slugging it out and we all get to watch.”

JOHNSON: “Good old fashioned wrestling.”

Jair’s back up first on the outside of the ring, but Bronx is getting back up to his feet as well. There’s a little stagger in the World Champion’s steps as he feels the back of his head in pain. Hopkins waits for Bronx to turn around fully then unloads with a couple of stiff shots that rock the champ backwards from their impact, Jair follows that up with a couple of forearm shots of his own pushing Bronx up against the guardrailing. Hopkins backs off and runs towards the champion…

THHHHHHUDD!!!

…but is tossed over the top of the guardrailing by the World Champion as Bronx is able to duck under at the last moment!! Bronx stumbles forward to safety as the crowd is cleared by 4CW event security around the newly minted Hall of Famer. Bronx recovers about halfway down the ring apron and turns around facing the recovering Jair Hopkins. Giving the back of his head one more check, he charges as fast as possible towards the Pride Champion leaping up into the air over the guardrailing…

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRASSSHH!!!

…crashing into Jair Hopkins who in turn crashes through about two rows of chairs on the outside of the ring clearing the fans completely out of the front section of ringside in the process! The rest of the crowd begins a nice loud “HOLY SHIT” chant as Bronx wipes out the Pride Champion with that incredible move.

JOHNSON: “This crowd here in New Orleans on their feet as these two have taken to the outside!”

VASSA: “That section has to be to their feet because they might be hit by a champion! The rest of the crowd is up because this is some insane shit!”

JOHNSON: “Bronx going airborne on the Pride Champion, doesn’t get much better than that.”

VASSA: “No, and if they go any further into the crowd… someone’s going to take them home as a collectable!”

JOHNSON: “Event security has their hands full now, but they are doing a hell of a job keeping the fans safe from these two right now.”

Bronx tosses Jair up and over the guardrailing back to the ringside area, but not before pausing and taking a selfie with a couple of fans around the ring. Bronx makes sure that Hopkins doesn’t have a lot of time to recover and grabs him but the hair and rolls him under the bottom ring ropes and back to where the match can actually end. He climbs up onto the apron and waits as Jair gets back up to his feet before he leaps up and flings himself up and over the top ropes connecting with a shoulder block knocking Hopkins back down to the mat with a heavy thud! Valescence shoots right back up to his feet and leaps up onto the middle ropes and then does the splits onto the top ropes flinging himself upside…

SLLLLLLAAMM!!!

…connecting with a split legged moonsault! He hooks the leg of Hopkins as the referee dives into position.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Close again, what a split legged moonsault there by the World Champion.”

VASSA: “We’re starting to see these two begin to reach deeper into their bag of tricks now.”

JOHNSON: “And to think, neither title is on the line right now.”

Bronx doesn’t hesitate has he gets back up to his feet once again, this time he picks Hopkins up in a deadlift position and uses a ton of strength and energy in lifting up the Pride Champion into the air where he then

SLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…slams him back down to his back with a gutwrench suplex!! Bronx gets back up to his feet again quickly, giving a kick to the chest of Jair Hopkins, who also is getting back up to his own feet, Bronx hooks on a rear waistlock onto the Pride Champion. The two then run towards the corner turnbuckle with Bronx holding on tight, the two hit and Hopkins is unable to hold onto the corner ropes as Bronx rolls him through and builds up momentum as he swings Hopkins around…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…finishing it off with a rolling German suplex!! Valescence bridges the suplex and the referee slides in for the pin attempt.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Bronx Valescence connecting with the For Ana there, and that was almost all she wrote for Jair Hopkins in this match!!”

VASSA: “Wow, Hopkins getting the shoulder up at the last moment.”

JOHNSON: “The Hall of Famer showing that resolve, that will to gut it out in the toughest of moments. Qualities that have gotten him far in 4CW.”

Bronx is a little slow getting back up to his feet, again he feels the back of his head looking as if the impact of that move might have hurt him a little bit too. Hopkins slowly uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet as well. Just as Hopkins turns around in the ring, Bronx connects with a jaw smacking superkick which sends the Pride Champion through the middle ropes and onto the ring apron. The crowd pops for that one as Bronx rolls back up to his feet and looks towards Jair Hopkins with a wicked smile on his face. Hopkins pulls himself back to his feet on the outside and that’s when Bronx leaps up onto the middle ropes and hooks Hopkins from behind, the crowd exactly knows what’s going on as he pulls the Hall of Famer up and over the top ropes…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMMM!!!

…crashing down with a release German suplex which folds Hopkins up like an accordion in the middle of the ring!! Hopkins bounces and lands face down on the mat. Bronx looks as if he struck his head again the mat as he pulls himself into the corner turnbuckle.

VASSA: “Bronx hitting that Tweet Delete move and can you believe that Bronx has NEVER actually deleted a tweet before in his life? True story.”

JOHNSON: “Is that actually true?”

VASSA: “Well, he has his whole account deleted. But that’s a different story.”

Bronx scrambles across the ring and flips Hopkins over on the mat and hooks the leg of Hopkins, the referee dives in right after him and makes the count

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

JOHNSON: “HOPKINS GOT HIS HAND ONTO THE ROPES!”

VASSA: “I thought he had him, he thought he had him!”

Bronx doesn’t believe it either, he slams the mat in a bit of frustration as Jair clutches the back of his head in pain as he tries to roll to a vertical base again. Bronx nails Hopkins across the back of the head with a couple of boot stomps, and then pulls up the Hall of Famer and dumps him into the corner turnbuckle. Bronx backs up and charges in crashing into the corner with an avalanche smashing Hopkins into the corner further. Bronx goes to work as he lifts up the Pride Champion and sits him onto the top ropes and climbs up into the corner. The crowd begins to buzz in anticipation as the two champions begin to stand up on the top ropes.

JOHNSON: “Here we go, to the top both men… high above the ring.”

VASSA: “This is one of those high risk, high reward moments.”

JOHNSON: “A miss here and this one could be over… either way!”

Bronx wraps his arms around the waist of Jair Hopkins and flings himself backwards towards the ground…

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAMM!!!

…slamming into the mat from the top as he connects with a belly to belly suplex on Jair Hopkins!! Hopkins bounces and skips across the ring from the impact of that shot, landing on his neck, shoulders and upper back area. Bronx, tired from the match thus far, crawls his way over towards where Hopkins is lying and hooks the leg as he pins the shoulders of Hopkins down.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “NO HOPKINS GOT THE SHOULDER UP!”

VASSA: “Holy sh– well, you get the idea there. Hopkins not giving in just yet.”

JOHNSON: “The Pride Champion certainly showing his mettle here tonight in the Big Easy.”

VASSA: “Judging by the look on his face, I don’t think the World Champion has any idea what to do now. What else is there to do that can keep him down for another half a second?”

There’s a look of disbelief on the face of the World Champion as Hopkins somehow gets his shoulder up, he pulls himself back up to his feet putting his hand through hair a couple of times to get the sweat from his eyes away. Hopkins gets back to all fours as Bronx backs himself up against the ropes the crowd knows what’s about to happen as Bronx allows Hopkins to stagger back up to his feet. The World Champion charges at the Pride Champion after flinging himself off of the ring ropes for speed and leaps up into the air…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!

….slamming the ground hard as Jair Hopkins somehow turns the front flip into sit-out powerbomb onto the World Champion!! Hopkins can’t follow it up with a cover as both men lay in the middle of the ring near each other, the crowd roars for the counter by the Pride Champion.

JOHNSON: “Oh my God! What a swing in momentum there by Jair Hopkins!!”

VASSA: “How did he do that?!”

JOHNSON: “Bronx going for the Valescence’s Victory, but out of nowhere Hopkins counters it into a powerbomb type of move. Incredible.”

VASSA: “But Hopkins can’t follow it up, too much from this match…”

JOHNSON: “He’s trying, Vinny… slowly making his way over towards Bronx. Is this enough to hold him down?”

Hopkins finally crawls over to where Bronx is lying and drapes an arm over his chest, the referee dives into to make the count.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “No! The World Champion gets the shoulder up at the last moment!”

VASSA: “Incredible. Neither man going down easy here tonight.”

JOHNSON: “When they make a champion against champion match this is what you hope you end up witnessing.”

Hopkins rolls back up to his feet, Bronx still tries to get back to his feet using the ropes for help. Finally, Bronx rights himself up but Hopkins is there waiting and begins to unload with a series of rights and lefts which backs the World Champion up against the ropes. Hopkins sets to sent the World Champion across the ring with a whip, but Bronx puts on the breaks and sends Hopkins instead, on the rebound Hopkins ducks a lariat attempt and counters with a vicious dropkick to the knees of Valesence! Bronx drops down nearly catching his chin on the mat as Hopkins charges off of the ropes again…

SMMMMMACK!!!

…sending a sickening smack throughout the arena with a Shining Wizard right to the side of Bronx’s face!! Bronx flattens to his back from the impact. Hopkins doesn’t hesitate as he pops up and charges into the corner with his back to the World Champion. The crowd gets to their feet knowing exactly what Hopkins has him mind. Hopkins leaps backwards, spinning through the air with a moonsault…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…stomping only the canvas as the World Champion rolls out of the way!!

JOHNSON: “Hopkins going for and missing the OMFG!”

VASSA: “That’s like thinking there’s one extra step in the dark painful, folks. Only from ten feet in the air!!”

JOHNSON: “Pain shooting through the legs of the Pride Champion after that one.”

Hopkins collapses and rolls towards the ropes after the miss, he quickly tries to get back up to his feet, but by then Bronx is back up to his feet as well. Bronx goes for a superkick, but Hopkins somehow is able to get out of the way and Bronx ends up crotching himself across the top ropes!! The entire male portion of this New Orleans crowd gives a collective gasp as Bronx yells out in pain.

VASSA: “Oh that hurts just sitting here.”

JOHNSON: “Hopkins moving out of way quickly and Bronx paid for it dearly.”

Hopkins pulls Bronx by the back of the neck, his legs remaining on the top ropes as Hopkins moves towards the center of the ring, Hopkins drops…

SLLLAMM!!!

…nailing his opponent with falling neckbreaker with help from the ropes! Hopkins gets right back up to his feet and again charges towards the corner ropes, for a second time he charges up into the corner with the crowd getting up to their feet in anticipation. Hopkins, however, a little slowed from the last miss takes a moment to collect himself as he looks out into the crowd.

But out of nowhere Bronx charges up from behind and ends up with Jair Hopkins on his shoulders instead!! Hopkins has nowhere to get as Bronx turns around towards the middle of the ring and spins the Pride Champion around…

SLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…dropping Hopkins to the mat with a sit-out powerbomb!! Bronx holds onto the legs for dear life as the referee dives in to make the count

ONE

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TWO

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THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “NO! NO! HOPKINS KICKED OUT!!”

VASSA: “I don’t believe it, I just don’t believe it.”

Neither does Bronx. The World Champion has to wipe the look off of his face as he pulls himself back up to his feet, he marches about the ring a little bit looking for the perfect angle towards Hopkins as Jair slowly begins to pull himself back up to his feet using the ropes.

JOHNSON: “The World Champion looking like he’s got the perfect opening here to put this one away…”

Hopkins gets back up to his feet and turns around just as Bronx charges towards him once again, Bronx leaps up into the air…

SLLLLLLAMM!!!

…and is tossed into the corner turnbuckle by Jair Hopkins! For the second time, the Pride Champion is able to the counter the Front Flip DDT attempt by the World Champion. Bronx’s head bounces off the the corner turnbuckle and he rolls from the corner. This gives Hopkins a chance to charge into the same turnbuckle leaping up onto the top ropes, he too leaps high into the air again…

SSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMMM!!!

…and connects with his moonsault footstomp!!! The crowd pops as Hopkins hits the OMFG and is able to quickly collapse on top of the World Champion hooking both his legs in the process. The referee dives in to once again make the count!

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

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

JOHNSON: “He got him! He got him! Jair Hopkins, the Pride Champion and new member of the Hall of Fame is able to put down the 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence in one hell of an opening match for Twenty-Eighteen!!”

VASSA: “And to think, this is just the opening match here tonight.”

Once again “Everybody Stay Calm” by RTJ comes on over the arena, an exhausted Jair Hopkins can barely stand and has to have his arm raised by the referee as he his handed his Pride Championship title. The belt nearly too heavy for him at this point, but he is able to hold on and hold it up high into the air as the New Orleans crowd once again gives him a huge ovation.

JOHNSON: ”Talk about setting the bar high!”

VASSA: ”These two not only set the bar high for the rest of the night, but they set it for the entire year right here on the first Adrenaline of Twenty-Eighteen!”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a lot of great openers over the years and this one right here could very well rank among one of, if not THE best!”

VASSA: ”Both of these men were coming off huge wins following Winter Wasteland. We see these champion versus champion matches all the time but let me ask you this. How often do we see the Pride Champion knock off the 4CW Champion?”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a good question and to be honest, you’ve really caught me off guard with it. I should know this. I’m sure it has been done before. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

VASSA: ”Well you take your time to think on it old man. Think long and hard but we all know you’ll forget what you’re trying to remember within five minutes. So sit there and let those old gear turn, we’ll be right back here at ringside momentarily!”

The camera is trained on a white wall for a few seconds, before the big ass head of Persephone Marquis pops in; a smile plastered on her face.

MARQUIS: “Oh hey, didn’t see you there.”

She centers herself in the shot; showing the clothes that she is currently adorning. A confederate flag themed jacket on her person with a matching bandana on her head to cover her messy hair, Persephone Marquis smiles broadly at the camera; revealing her two front teeth blacked out.

MARQUIS: “I feel like you all know what this is going to be, but I’m going to roll with it anyway. As you are aware, predictability is a very important trait pertaining to the person we are currently exploring. The resident retard of 4CW, the future loser of tonight’s main event; Jason Cashe himself!”

Of to the side, there is some weak clapping and a “yay”. Persephone nods, putting her hands up to quiet down the ecstatic crowd. That, of course, is sarcasm. We have to point it out since some people are too stupid to pick up on it. Regardless, Persephone looks back toward the camera, continuing to speak.

MARQUIS: “Cashe has, throughout the span of his career, embarrassed himself at every turn and has eaten his own words on more than one occasion. Yet, despite his very unimpressive career a distinct lack of substance that flourished during a time when the biggest threat was a Banks, he has still found small pockets of respect in this industry; mostly from people who think it’s cool he smokes weed.”

Persephone shrugs.

MARQUIS: “Whatever, light that shit up, right? Cashe, after a series of shortcomings, has found recent success in being inducted into the 4CW Hall of Fame; all of that given out tonight, but he still somehow had a plaque. Always a step ahead, it seems. However, what has he done in 4CW to give him the spot? Sure, he was a world champion, but so was Jason Phoenix. Where’s his spot?”

Persephone shakes her head.

MARQUIS: “No, see, we’re going to get to the bottom of this and I, dressed as Cashe, will show you every notable thing Cashe has done in order to earn his spot in the class. Buckle up, guys. This is How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Edition.”

Persephone reaches off camera, pulling a lanky Jew into the frame. It’s everyone’s favorite lanky Jew, actually! It’s James Deen. James waves at the camera as Persephone begins to explain.

MARQUIS: “This is my assistant, since Jason Cashe can’t make any statement and be taken seriously without another person to back him up and sell him. Are you ready James?”

James Deen sighs heavily and shakes his head.

DEEN: “Yeah, I guess so. Let’s just jump right into it. We’re not going to be sucking Wallace’s dick in this, are we?”

Persephone laughs and pats Deen on the back, shaking her head and looking off to the side.

MARQUIS: “No, no, no. We’re not that desperate for attention, come on now. Let’s go!”

Persephone rushes off to the side, running in the same way a monkey does as James Deen leisurely follows behind.

How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Style #42 – Shit Yourself

The camera cuts to James Deen leaning against a bathroom stall; looking through his phone and someone sighs on the other side. He doesn’t look up when he speaks.

DEEN: “Did you take a shit yet? I don’t think we have all day, Marquis. Also, they showed Cashe shitting on camera, not just showing his shit.”

MARQUIS: “I can’t poop with a camera on me, James! And I can’t poop with someone talking to me, so shut up so we can get through the most obvious part of Jason Cashe.”

DEEN: “You should’ve taken laxatives like he did when he just wanted an excuse as to why he lost that one time. That would’ve been the smart thing to do, Persephone.”

The stall door opens up to show an angry Persephone. James slides his phone into his pocket, looking at her fold her arms across her chest; looking ridiculous as she pouts in the confederate friendly clothing.

MARQUIS: “I will never understand how someone can just open their asshole up on command to take a shit. How fucking loose does your asshole have to be to get that power?”

James rolls his eyes.

DEEN: “To be fair, you did fuck him in the asshole. Also, just laxatives, man.”

MARQUIS: “I can’t take laxatives anymore! They’ll lock me the fuck up, James, I’m supposed to stay away from them and that’s why I ate aloe like Laughlin recommended, but he was wrong!”

How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Style #35 – Let Laughlin Get One Over On You

MARQUIS: “He fucked me over with this like if I’m the XTV title participating in a match that I hyped up as my own. Fuck this shitting shit, I’m above this; only a fucking child with nothing left to talk about would throw around the same shit time and time again.”

She roughly grabs onto Deen’s shoulders, however. Looking at him with determination.

MARQUIS: “We’re continuing with this tutorial, though. I’ll be damned if I deprive the people from learning the easiest way to get into the 4CW Hall of Fame.”

She looks into the camera, a smile on her face.

MARQUIS: “Hold onto your seats, folks. We’re not done here yet. Also, as Cashe would say, good job, Bronx! You looked good tonight. Thank you for raising the bar, champ. Just DM whenever you want me to choke on it. Light that shit up!”

The scene cuts to Gavin Grimes sitting down on a chair in his locker room. His eyes are glued to the flat screen across from him, which is playing a promo from Andre Holmes a couple of days ago. Gavin glances over at the camera and smiles.

GRIMES: “Oh hey there! Luckily you’re here, I was right about to take a nap.”

He glances back towards the TV that’s playing the Holmes promo.

GRIMES: “Every time I try to get through this damn promo, I start to fall asleep.”

Gavin turns the TV off and gives the camera his full attention now.

GRIMES: “Tonight is one of the biggest nights of my career as I debut here in 4CW. It’s a real special moment for me and I don’t plan on letting Andre Holmes ruin it for me. I find it funny though, one moment he’s listing off all of my accolades, saying how great everyone sees me… Then the next minute he’s saying I’m a fraud and that I didn’t earn anything!”

He laughs and rolls his eyes.

GRIMES: “I find it interesting that I’m trying to come here with a clean slate and trying to focus on what I can do here instead of what I did elsewhere, and that’s all Andre can focus on. The best part is that I’m actually being humble and grateful to be here and showing this amazing company respect, and Andre is trying to say that I’m egotistical and want things on a silver platter. I mean, what fucking planet is he living on?”

Gavin laughs and shakes his head.

GRIMES: “But none of that matters now, what matters is the match tonight. This is my debut and I’m starting at the bottom, which is the only thing Andre slightly said right… Even though I kind of said it first in my promo. But where Holmes is wrong is where he says that I’m going to be staying at the bottom. Nah bro, I’m not staying down there but you know what? I will use you like a stepping stone. Tonight, I’m going to use Andre to show just how good I am! But don’t get it twisted, I know the dude is going to bring it. I know that he thinks he’s got something to prove after losing to Alexis two weeks ago but here’s the thing…”

Gavin taps his index finger to his temple.

GRIMES: “Mercer is still in Andre’s head. I mean, the dude admitted that he’s still having nightmares about it and here he is, wanting to use me as an example to prove a point to Alexis. Holmes, I’m pretty sure Alexis is ready to move on after she completely scrubbed the floor with you but that’s the thing, Holmes, you don’t know how to move on. Funny thing is, I don’t even gotta play mind games with you because you’re literally all over the place because of this. Actually, check that, I don’t gotta play mind games with you because you’ve always been lost and confused and those are the facts.”

Gavin stands up and walks towards the camera.

GRIMES: “Tonight is where I prove to the world that I not only belong in this sport, but that I belong in a 4CW with the best of them and oh, Andre? You’re not the best of them, you’re just the stepping stone to them and I’m prepared to walk over you.”

Gavin smirks and gives the camera a wink and nod before the scene cuts away.

The backstage area is set for another interview, as Gabriel Hartman runs back into the scene. He looks out of breath, but his guest doesn’t seem to care. Bryan Williams stands there, looking very bored. Gabriel runs towards him, finally getting into his place. He sucks in a few big gasps of air, as Bryan looks on.

WILLIAMS: ”You okay?”

Gabriel nods, his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

WILLIAMS: ”It’s better if you put your hands on top of your head.”

Hartman does exactly that, taking in a few more gasps of air as he tries to calm down. Bryan waits, as Gabriel is finally ready to start this interview.

HARTMAN: ”Thanks … for waiting here. It’s tough … to run around for these … interviews…”

Gabriel exhales, letting out a big sigh as he does. Bryan shakes his head, opting to look through his phone for a moment.

HARTMAN: ”One … second…”

Bryan nods, still looking through his phone. In the distance we hear something, things being thrown around. Bryan looks over, confused as to what’s happening. He quickly realizes something, and smiles.

HARTMAN: ”Okay, I think I’m good…”

WILLIAMS: ”You sure? Still look a bit out of breath there.”

Gabriel nods, taking another chance to catch his breath. Bryan looks over, as there is more noise. The camera hasn’t swung around, but we can hear a very distinct voice in the background.

MARQUIS: ”I swear to GOD…”

Bryan laughs, as Hartman finally realizes what’s happening.

HARTMAN: ”Oh no, Bryan … you didn’t … please tell me you didn’t tell her I was interviewing you?”

WILLIAMS: ”Interview? We haven’t even started anything yet, Gabe. You got a few seconds, though. Better make it quick.”

Gabriel begins to panic, as we hear footsteps getting closer to the camera. Echoing throughout the backstage area, Bryan looks on with a smile.

HARTMAN: ”Okay, uh, Boston! Worried! Are you?!”

Bryan laughs, as Gabriel quickly scurries away. Persephone has arrived, and she’s pissed. Gabe is off running, yet again, probably to the next interview. Persephone picks up a soda can off of the ground, tossing it at Gabriel.

MARQUIS: ”That’s right, bitch! You better run!”

Her face goes from a harsh anger, to a soft smile immediately as she turns to look at Bryan. Bryan smiles back at her.

MARQUIS: ”Babe! There you are! Look, I need your help with something. I got this whole thing in mind, need you to arm wrestle me. For the greater good, of course.”

WILLIAMS: ”Arm wrestle you?”

Persephone nods.

WILLIAMS: ”Okay, lemme go and handle this match real quick. I’ll come back and find out afterwards, and we’ll arm wrestle. Sound good?”

MARQUIS: ”Sounds like a plan! Go kick ass, Daredevil, you got this!”

And with that, we go to Erica Cambry taking on Alexis Mercer or whatever.

UNDERCARD
ALEXIS MERCER VS. ERICA CAMBRY

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

JOHNSON: ”Well I wonder what kind of idiocy is going to happen tonight.”

VASSA: ”What do you mean idiocy? I know you’re not talking about my baby girl Erica, are you?”

JOHNSON: ”….. No I’m definitely not talking about Erica Cambry, the girl who has absolutely no wrestling experience whatsoever. Why would I ever doubt the credibility of someone with her credentials?”

VASSA: ”THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING! And if you ask me it’s about time someone gets Alexis back for what she did to Andre. And tonight is that night.”

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

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

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

JOHNSON: ”Vinny, you’re talking about a former Fate champion. A woman who beat Tara Michaels and gave Genevie Carlson all that she could handle.”

VASSA: ”A PREGNANT TARA! And she only gave Genie all she could handle AFTER Genie had gone on a long break and it was her first match back.”

JOHNSON: ”She beat Andre Holmes.”

VASSA: ”I know! And it’s an injustice! Erica will take care of that tonight though.”

“Bittersweet Symphony” by the Verve hits over the public address system and the lights begin to flash with all of the pomp and circumstance of a usual 4CW entrance. After a few long moments the music fades and Alexis stares up the ramp impatiently waiting for Erica to make her way down to the ring so that she could tear her apart piece by piece.

VASSA: ”Must be some kind of technical difficulty.”

JOHNSON: ”Seems like the technical side of things is working just fine, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”You shut your whore mouth!”

Once more, after silence and confusion had filled the arena, “Bittersweet Symphony” by the Verve hits over the public address system. And once more Erica Cambry is nowhere to be found. By this point Alexis is in the ring chomping at the bit, ready to fight just about anyone, including the referee who was standing in the ring. More time passed without anyone appearing before another official emerged from the backstage area and jogged down to the ring. In ring the official leaned through the ropes to speak to the one who had come out from the backstage area. With a few nods of his head he stood back upright and then moved to give instructions to Powers. After passing the information along, the voice of Mike Powers boomed over the public address system.

POWERS:”Ladies and Gentlemen we’ve been informed that Erica Cambry has left the building and is not answering any attempts at contacting her. So… as a result of that fact.. I give you your winner by forfeit… ALEXIS MMEERRCCEERR!!!”

Rolling her eyes, Alexis grabbed the zebra striped official and lifted him up into a cradle pile driver position, planting him down into the mat. Though the fans booed the decision to have Erica forfeit initially, they cheered Alexis hitting a pile driver on the referee and exiting the ring, heading to the back as the scene switched backstage.

BOSTON: “If you guys have time to kill, I’d like to incoherently ramble backstage for anywhere from a couple of minutes to an hour and a half about Bryan Williams.”

Standing in front of the camera, relaxed and confident, Boston addressed the Adrenaline viewing audience in front of the 4CW Retro-Grade poster featuring Bronx Valescence and Ana Hayden. Just like he did at Winter Wasteland, when the less-promoted poster featured Bronx and Persephone. Clearly, it was that backstage promo that inspired 4CW marketing to bring posters back to the forefront of their PPV promotional campaigns. It may have even inspired the name, “Retro Grade.” Boston thought that there had to be a connection. He was narcissistic like that.

Regardless, he wasn’t concerned with that tonight.

BOSTON: “I’ve always been a rambler, Bryan, you know that. My brain? It’s not normal. I have no, ‘chill.’ Your girlfriend broke that news to me a couple of years ago, after I beat her and a few other folks for what would become a former 4CW championship. Something you find irrelevant, apparently.”

He shrugs.

BOSTON: “That aside, you’ve said I’ve changed. Not the same anymore. Judging by the bloody nature of my latest tenure here in 4CW, evidenced by the lead pipe that I can’t seem to part with, I’d say you were right, Bryan. I’m just not the same anymore. Change is good. You should try it some time. Without changing your style a single bit since 2015, somehow you were almost rendered beautifully on the artistic masterpiece behind me. Would have been you and Bronx, doing karate in the garage. Then, Ana Hayden makes up a little bit of ground in her record against you, and we’re back to defensive dejection, desperate reaching for meaningful, lasting words, and having to feel like we need to get, ‘back on track.’ One big loss, and you feel like you need to turn it all around again by giving me an L. Sending me packing again would be your next jump-start. I mean, you do need a spark, that’s for sure, but you’ve been needing that since I’ve known you. Regardless of what happens tonight, I’m not going anywhere, bud. I will hand it to you though, compared to me, you have been in 4CW a really long time. Unlike me, you’ve stuck around and continued to be the same exact wrestler, year in, year out. Kudos to you, brotha. No one defines mundane mediocrity or has a stranglehold on the trite promo game quite like Bryan Williams does in 4CW.”

He smirks.

BOSTON: “Bryan Williams, the guy who calls me out for not having ‘faced’ half the talent he has. Did you beat all of those people I haven’t hung around long enough to fight, Bryan?”

His hands jut out to his sides.

BOSTON: “Did you beat most of them?”

Boston raises his eyebrows, curiously and brings his hands closer together.

BOSTON: “Half?”

His pushes his hands toward the camera before letting them fall to his side.

BOSTON: “I bet I would have, if that’s what I wanted to do, Bryan. I wanted to destroy Johnny Evil, and I did. Against Dakota, I wanted to find something within me that I wasn’t sure I possessed. You asked me how that ended up for me? I knocked the motherfucker out cold and discovered the precursor to what I am now- happy, hungry, and fucking dangerous. A draw worked out fine for me, in the end. Against Riddle, I’m not sure I even knew I was in a sanctioned wrestling match. That part of the night was a haze. All I really remember was knocking him out cold and leaving him in a pool of his own blood, fucking finding myself in the process. DQ or not, I wouldn’t count that as a real, ‘loss.’ The fact is, as you probably already know, in my eyes, there’s only one occasion where I didn’t do what I set out to do.”

With a smirk, he looks over his shoulder at the poster,specifically toward Bronx, before resuming his casual gaze into the lens.

BOSTON: “I’m not sure why you think your experience in being perennially average puts you a notch above me, Bryan, but it doesn’t matter, does it? The past is the past. Can’t let it define us. You said something along those lines this week, before and after you proceeded to repeatedly talk history and recite back things about me that I already addressed, but at least you had good intentions. You’re hoping this match takes me out, though, that much is clear. Through your teeth, through the same exhausted, feigned confidence and presentation of an expectation to win that I mentioned earlier this week, you recognized me as a viable threat, and I appreciate that. You fuckin’ should.”

His eyes narrow and his confidence laden grin fades to a faint grimace.

BOSTON: “You could have been on the poster behind me, Bryan, and you know, deep down, that if I, ‘stick around long enough?’ I will be. You had your big shot. When the biggest opportunity of your career was on the line, against someone you had already beaten twice, you couldn’t get it done. You know that I will. You know that I’m standing in your way of ever having your face accented in neon pink or yellow. You’re addicted to letting yourself down. Addicted to the spot on the card we’re in tonight. You lost- something I don’t really do- despite being, ‘addicted to failure,’ as you put it. I won’t lose tonight, and I won’t whenever-”

He glances toward the neon poster again.

BOSTON: “Whenever my time comes. When we’re through with all of this, ‘talk-talk,’ (anyone?) I’m going to beat you, Bryan. Bad. The forecot calls for pain! I told you last week, I’m going to give you the opportunity to free yourself, just like the one I had. I nearly ripped your heart out, Bryan, whether you’ll admit it or not, and as the fans chant, ‘fuck ‘em up, Baw-stin, fuck ‘em up,’ tonight, I’ll finish the job. There will be agony (100% chance of precipitation in the form of pain), there will be shame, and there will be blood. Concussion protocol is nothing new to you, but this time, during your recovery, really re-evaluate yourself. Let my words and actions save you, rather than crush your spirit. Think of all the reasons why you should despise who you are. Then, change. Free yourself from the habits and behaviors that keep you in the middle.”

An off-putting smile surfaces as he laughs.

BOSTON: “If- and only if- you do? You might just highlight a visually orgasmic 4CW poster with me in the near future. When I make you call me Dragon, tonight? After I do to you what I did to Johnny Evil, Dakota Smith, and Cyrus Riddle? Call it a favor. I know you said that you’re glad I found that church last week, but the point of being there was that neither of us need the place. I certainly don’t, and if you follow the word of my guidance, you won’t either, Nighthawk.”

His thumb juts from a clenched fist and darts over his shoulder toward Bronx Valescence and Anastasia Hayden’s two-dimensional likenesses.

BOSTON: “Not when we can be our own versions of Jesus Christ, right?”

Though still pretty long, the shortest Boston-Adrenaline promo yet fades from view, as the show moves forward.

Backstage in the locker room is Andre Holmes sitting down on a bench behind his open metal locker. The past few weeks have been pretty hard on him especially since his lost to Alexis Mercer at Winter Wasteland. He’s been doing everything his can to recover from the loss and more importantly, his pride taking the biggest blow. Besides the scar on his forehead, he’s doing his best to get back into the mix. The camera enters into the locker room displaying Andre strapping up his MMA gloves and lacing up his boots. His hazel eyes turns to the camera with a sign of disgust. He’s not in the mood for this but he will get something off his chest.

HOLMES: ”I know what they were all thinking. How could Andre Holmes lose to Alexis Mercer at Winter Wasteland? What are you going to do to remedy this or how will you comeback? Did you not think those questions would be the easiest to ask especially from my enemies? Alexis Mercer won fair and square and I can’t do anything to change the past but that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything to change the future. If I recall correctly, we are now neck and neck to the finishing line. What used to be a dominating pace has now been turned into an equal sided battle. The war isn’t over and I’m not going to let this psychopathic bitch dictate how things are going to be run here.

So she can enjoy the victory because we both know she wants to put an end to me. A permanent end. She wants my life and I don’t plan on dying any time soon. Alexis, I’m coming for you but it starts with a certain man. A man we never thought we would see have the balls or the gall to even step foot on 4CW soil. I do recommend this man to learn everything about the company for our match and let him know that signing his name to the 4CW contract was the biggest mistake he could make. Hey Gavin, welcome to 4CW.”

He gets off the bench and slowly takes off his leather jacket hanging on from the metal door. Strapping it on, he turns around with the leather hoodie hanging over his hoodie as he returns that deadly gaze back into the camera lens.

HOLMES: ”Guess you can say that Gavin really did expect to waltz in here and think he’s the next big thing. Running his mouth about his glory days, trying to carry his momentum of the success he had in other promotions into his debut match with me. Now that may sound sensible and perhaps pretty cool, I’m here to say otherwise. I know he’s been preparing, I know I have. I also know he’s a little punk bitch who spends more time running his mouth than understanding how severe the situation is when he should know the consequences for disrespecting me.

Either way, I’ll show him what I’m made of and it’ll be more than enough to prove he wasn’t hot shit in the first place. He’s going to be another one of those flakes who quit after realizing how tough the competition. No, he’s going to quit after realizing how he couldn’t beat me after telling the entire world how great Gavin Grimes is. So Gavin, prepare for the most humiliating and hopefully humbling defeat in your career. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you understand just how dangerous a relentless man truly is!”

And with that, he leaves the locker room with the camera fading to black.

UNDERCARD
GAVIN GRIMES VS. ANDRE HOLMES

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

The opening beat to “Throne” begins to blare over the PA system and flashing white lights illuminate the arena, going along with the beat of the song and it causes the fans to cheer. Gavin Grimes is now standing at the top of the entrance way with the BLANK Championship strapped around his waist. Gavin is wearing a black hoodie on with the hoodie up on his head, while also wearing a pair of black jeans, black gloves with the finger tips cut off and a pair of white high-top Jordan’s. Gavin’s has his hands crossed as he looks down at the ground under him, his head nodding up and down to the beat of the music.

VASSA: “YESSSSSSSSSSS JETT IS BACK TO WRESTLING AND HE’S GOT NEW ENTRANCE MUSIC!!”

“Remember the moment you left me alone and

Broke every promise you ever made

I was an ocean, lost in the open

Nothing could take the pain away

So you can throw me to the wolves

Tomorrow I will come back

Leader of the whole pack

Beat me black and blue

Every wound will shape me

Every scar will build my

THRONE”

POWERS: “Coming to the ring… Hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada and weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds… GAVIN GGRRIIMMEESS!!!”

VASSA: “NO POWERS YOU CUCK THAT’S NOT GAVIN THATS JETT!”

JOHNSON: “Calm down Vinny. I know you miss Jett, but that’s not Jett. That’s Gavin Grimes.”

VASSA: “Don’t do this to me Steve. Don’t break my heart.”

As the word throne begins to blare over the PA system, Gavin pulls off the hoodie from his head and begins to walk confidently down the ramp. Once he makes it to the ring, Gavin slides through the ropes. Gavin now takes off his pullover jacket and throws it into the crowd and it now reveals that he was wearing a white tank top under the pullover. Gavin then walks up to the ropes and stands up on the bottom rope while raising up one hand to the crowd as they cheer him on.

JOHNSON: ”See Vinny. It’s Gavin. NOT Jett. You alright, pal?”

VASSA: ”I hate this fargot cuck!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a bit harsh don’t you think?”

VASSA: ”I hope Ashleigh gets AIDS and doesn’t tell Gavin. And then passes her AIDS onto him. And then they make a whole fucking musical about having AIDS. And then they DIE!”

JOHNSON: ”Think that has already been done, Vincent.”

VASSA: ”Of fucking course it has!”

A slow but assuring guitar riff broken up in a DJent pattern starts playing with the lights in the arena shutting off to illuminate gray colored images of Andre Holmes on the titantron. “Relentless” by New Years Day suddenly begins with lights flashing, and dancing around highlighting different sections of the arena. He walks out from the back wearing the black hoodie over his head, his ring attire on. Cheers are increasing like giant waves on the beach to him as he stands on the center stage surveying the crowd with a big smile on his face. Walking down the entrance path, he pauses until hearing the lyrics.

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

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

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

Afterwards, the lights return back to normal, and he walks down to the ring while mingling with some of his fans at ringside. Climbing up onto the apron, he quickly runs to leap onto the middle rope. A spotlight emerges behind him to cloak him in a silhouette with smoke pushing upwards for that shadow effect. Hopping over the top rope, he lands inside the ring to stay in an unoccupied corner where he removes his hoodie, and tosses it to the outside. Standing in an unoccupied corner, Andre warms up, and he tightens the strap on his MMA Gloves waiting for his opponent to come out.

VASSA: ”YES! ANDRE! DO THIS FOR ME! KILL GAVIN! I’LL PAY YOU IN STROMBOLI!”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny you really need to calm down. Gonna have a coronary.”

VASSA: ”Listen. I know I said that Erica was going to kill Alexis to get revenge for Andre. And I was wrong about that. But I’m really feeling like I’ve got this one pegged. Heh. Pegged.. kind of like what happens to Ga-“

JOHNSON: ”Oooooookkkaaaayyyyyyyyy…”

DING!!! DING!!!

At the sound of the bell Gavin and Andre engage right away, in the center of the ring, with back and forth right hands connecting with the side of each others face. Neither man looking to back down but Gavin wasn’t going to be given much of an opportunity when Andre spun and caught Gavin squarely in the jaw with a rolling elbow that knocked him back into the ropes. Rocketing off of the ropes, Gavin threw himself back in Andre’s direction with a flying cross body but instead of taking Andre down, Holmes caught him and then swung him down to the side, taking him down to the mat roughly with a side slam. Going for a quick cover, Andre didn’t even get a one count before Gavin got his shoulder off of the mat and began rolling back over onto his side, trying to get back up to his feet. Popping back up with ease, Andre bent down and helped Gavin the rest of the way back up before whipping him into the nearby corner. Following up the whip, Andre charged at Gavin hoping to squash him between his body and the turnbuckle pads, but Gavin fired out of the corner and caught Andre with an elbow of his own.

Bringing a hand up to his lip to touch where Gavins elbow had made its impact while stumbling away, Andre turned back just in time to see Gavin dashing out of the corner in his direction. Catching him, Andre popped him up into the air looking for a powerbomb, but on his way down Gavin wrapped his legs around Andre’s head and brought him down with a hurricanrana. As Andre hit the mat, Gavin reached back and hooked both of his legs, leaving the referee to slide in quickly to get in position to count the pinfall, but much like Andre’s pinfall attempt, this one fails before the referee can even reach a count of one. When Andre springs free of the pinning predicament, Gavin lunges forward and both men end up standing and facing one another, garnering some applause from the crowd for the quick paced action.

Grimes takes the initiative after the applause dies down, running at Andre who telegraphs a back body drop. Spotting it well in advance, Gavin leapfrogs over Andre and takes off to the other ropes where he leaps and springboards off of them, twisting in mid air once more going for a flying cross body, this time of the springboard variety, and yet again it bears the same fruits as the first one with Andre catching him and twisting, slamming him down to the mat with an easy body slam. He then tries to press down on Gavins shoulders but Gavin breaks free before the referee can get into position. Working his way back up to his feet, Andre assists him once more. Using both of his hands, Gavin swats Andre’s from him before slamming both of his feet into Andre’s knee with a dropkick. With Holmes dropping to a knee, Gavin steps back quickly and the crowd pops having seen this move on other wrestling programming. SAC-TOWN KICK! Andre goes down and Gavin dives across, going for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: ”No! No you stop that right now fake Jett!”

JOHNSON: ”Kid looks quick and hungry if you ask me. And we all know how weak Andre’s knees are at this point in his career.”

VASSA: ”Veteran ring presence. Or something. That’s what is going to get Andre through this match.”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe. But probably not if he eats another one of those Sac-Town kicks to the face.”

The look on Gavins face shows that he’s absolutely gutted he didn’t get the three from the super kick to Andre but like the professional he is, he’s over it and onto trying to control the match a few moments later. Letting Andre work his way back up to his feet, a smirk forms on his face as Andre wobbles and walks forward like he’s a drunk man, clearly having trouble getting his bearings under him. Giving him a few steps to get closer, Gavin goes for his patented crippler crossface but before he can bring Andre fully down to the mat and get it locked it, Andre throws his right hand over and twists, chopping down against the top of Gavins forearm with as much force as he can muster. The result is that Grimes let go and the two separated awkwardly. Immediately Gavin re-engages, trying to ratchet the pace of the match back up once more, moving quickly towards Andre who, simultaneously, shoots in and locks onto a single leg before standing up, wrapping his other arm around Gavins back before tossing him fully overhead, leaving Gavin to come crashing back down to the mat hard.

VASSA:”Yes! Let the hate flow through you, Andre! Hit him with another one of those suplexes!”

JOHNSON: ”In this moment are you the Emperor?”

Getting back up and feeling a bit more stable on his legs, Andre reaches down and helps Gavin back up, locking him into a pump handle position before lifting him up and executing a perfect pump handle slam. With Gavin down on his back, Andre quickly entered a full mount position and began to fully employ his mixed martial arts background, unloading with massive rights and lefts, switching to hammer fists when Gavin would try to block his haymakers. The beating that follows almost knocks Gavin out of the match complete but as Andre shifts his weight to get a bit more comfortable, Gavin uses the opportunity to squirm free of the position that Andre had been holding him in, scrambling over to the ropes and pulling himself back up to his feet.

Having just won the Underground Cult Classic recently, it’s clear he’s been through a number of beatings and had no problem enduring them, overcoming them, and conquering his assailant. Andre gets back up a half second after Gavin had pulled himself back up and nearly didn’t see the brutal kick coming. Looking to pull the momentum straight back into his favor, Gavin threw his buzzsaw kick at Andre’s head and if it would have connected it truly would have been a perfect storm. But Andre ducked underneath the kick, chopping at Gavin’s knee bringing him down to a kneeling position. And then, in the blink of an eye, it’s like deja vu from earlier in the match except with complete roll reversal. CRACK! THRUST KICK! Gavin goes down and Andre, smartly, dives across his fallen body and covers, hooking the leg and putting as much weight into the pinfall as he could muster.

VASSA:”Fucking told you!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner… ANDRE HHOOLLMMEESS!!!”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Andre relinquishes the pinfall and stands up to have his arm raised in the air by the referee. It was clearly a hard fought battle and with the string of luck he’s had lately you can tell Andre is more relieved than anything else to be back on the winning side of things.

VASSA: ”TOLD YOU! I freaking called it! I’m a goddamn prophet, Steve!”

JOHNSON: ”You got lucky with this one I think. Gavin was just a split second away from walking out with his first victory in 4CW.”

VASSA: ”Coulda, woulda, shoulda. If those did any good Jason P. Davidson would have been 4CW Champion years ago. It just wasn’t fake Jetts night tonight, Steve. Why can’t you just say that Andre was the better man tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve got no problem saying that Andre was the better man tonight. But I’ll also say this, there’s no shame in the effort Gavin Grimes put forth tonight. And if I was a member of the Adrenaline roster, I’d watch out. Once he gets comfortable and into a groove, we’ve got a star on our hands.”

“Short Change Hero” by The Heavy begins to play through the speakers and the lights in the arena simultaneously dim down. Smoke begins to rise from the top of the stage and appearing on the screen above are the following words;

There’s a chorus of cheers that commence, echoing through the arena as Mark Storm emerges from the mist of smoke, chewing gum calmly as he takes off his shades and stares down at the ring. He can’t help but allow his sadistic signature smirk to appear upon his lips as he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide, soaking in the cheers of the audience.

JOHNSON: ”Your Hero, and Mine – is here in Four Corners Wrestling!”

VASSA: ”Can you believe it? There’s been a lot of speculation for several months about whether Storm was gonna come to the dark side, and he finally has!”

He begins his walk down the entrance ramp, with a leather coat completing his attire as he comes down the entrance ramp.

“This ain’t no place for no hero.

This ain’t no place for no better man.

This ain’t no place for no hero

To call “home.””

JOHNSON: ”A former EWC World Heavyweight Champion, Mark Storm is one of the most polarizing names in professional wrestling today! You either love him or hate him, but from the sounds of it tonight – this crowd is loving Mark Storm!”

VASSA: ”He’s often been criticized for being an independent wrestler who seems to be on his game one day, and then vanishes the next! Either way, it’s great to see someone like Mark Storm walk through the doors and join our ranks. I mean over the last few months alone, we’ve got Alessandro Quagliaterre, Nurse Kinsley Gavin Grimes! Guys and gals who have proved their worth in the wrestling industry, all coming here because they know that this is the place to be!”

At this point, Storm is by the edge of the ring; allowing a smile to embed on his face before he jumps onto the apron and holds onto the ropes, using them to help himself up onto the turnbuckle. He’s grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the rest of the cheers coming from the audience, shaking his head sideways as he lowers it, before jumping into the ring.

Storm grabs a microphone from one of the crew on the outside. He nods his head at them, appreciative. Walking over to the centre of the ring, Storm remains calm and composed – despite the volume in the arena picking up a little. He licks his dry lips, and waits patiently for the cheers and applause to die down a little. And once they do, he brings the microphone up to his moisturized lips, looks around the arena – before allowing words to leave his mouth.

STORM: Your Hero, and Mine has arrived.”

An instantaneous eruption of cheers follow as Mark finishes his sentence. The noise reverberates through the arena and all Mark can do is smile and wait. He’s stunned. You can read it on his face. Nodding his head in appreciation, he looks around the arena once again, a little applause coming from his end toward the crowd in attendance.

STORM: “I know that there’s people in the back that aren’t particular happy about my arrival to Four Corners Wrestling. And each to their own, I respect your opinion. You think whatever you want to think, but I’m here to tell you now that none of that matters. You don’t have to be happy. I’m here, and I’m here to stay.”

He pauses, beginning to pace the ring and allowing the fans to digest what he’s just said.

STORM: “I’ve been staking the claim of being one of the best wrestlers in the world since 2015. Since my breakthrough year when I set the wrestling world alight. And ever since then, I’ve been on an excursion, embarking on a global tour that took me from Tokyo, Japan – to London, England. From Mexico, to New Zealand. From Germany, to France. All around the world, I went plottin’ and it’s led me to this moment right here. This moment that at one point in my career, I thought was never going to happen. But here, I am.”

Applause once again rings through the arena, and he pauses to accommodate them.

STORM: “Why? Why do I go around the world and work on some sickly schedule that a lot of people ridicule? Why? Why do I put my body through immense torture and pain on a weekly basis? Why? Well it’s simple. I do because I can…”

Pointing to the top of the entrance ramp, he turns.

STORM: “You don’t, because you suck!”

A dig at everyone in the roster. Once again, cheers echo through the arena as Storm fixates his finger at the top of the entrance ramp, daring someone to answer his call. Needing someone to come out from the back and challenge him. He lays a smirk upon his lip and transitions his finger from pointing, to just having it up in the air – an indicating that he’s wanting to speak again.

STORM: ”And if there’s anyone in the back, who wants to challenge me – the stage, is yours.”

He waits, and waits, and waits. But no reply, to his disappointment.

STORM: ”From Your Hero, and Mine!”

“Short Change Hero” by The Heavy begins to play just after Storm dropped his microphone. He goes over to the turnbuckle and hoists himself up onto the second rope, embracing the applause whilst nodding his head, a smug look on his face.

The cameras come backstage. To Genevie Carlson. She’s not in her usual wrestling attire, because she doesn’t have a match tonight. Yet she showed up to New Orleans anyways. Her XTV Championship is draped over her shoulder.

CARLSON: “Well. I won’t say I told you all so, but I told you so. I said I was going to beat The Butcher at his own game, and I did. I fucking destroyed him.

A smirk crosses her lips.

CARLSON: “Now I know that people are going to say Viduus is the reason I retained but no. I would have won that match regardless and if he wants to say otherwise he can step up and catch these hands like Dakota did.”

She shakes her head and sighs for a moment while adjusting the gold on her shoulder.

CARLSON: “I’ve proven that I will do whatever it takes to keep this championship. Most people would say at this point they have given everything they have but, I’m just getting started. I’ve barely scratched the surface on what I’m capable of doing to keep this Championship. If I say I’ve already given everything I have than that means I’ve peaked and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let anyone say that I’ve peaked. The climb is still going, and it’s dangerous and full of nasty obstacles but I will overcome every single one of them and go down in the 4CW history books as the greatest XTV Champion of all time. Pray for Mercy for whoever steps up next to challenge me, because I will give them none.”

Genevie changes her look from serious and intimidating to one of pure amusement as she playfully giggles and blows a kiss to the camera. She then looks at her Championship with a smirk and then at the camera the scene fading out after she winks.

UNDERCARD
BOSTON VS. BRYAN WILLIAMS

JOHNSON: ”Another solid match here tonight, we’ll be seeing the return of Boston!”

VASSA: ”Stay broke!”

JOHNSON: ”Funny. I get it. Bryan’s in the match, well done. Not beating a dead horse at all, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Oh shut up. Look, Boston is back tonight. Dude is unhinged. I don’t feel good about watching this match tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”You don’t think Bryan can handle himself? He lost to Ana at Winter Wasteland, but he’s been on a tear besides that.”

VASSA: ”All I’m saying is, watch out for concussion number fifty five.”

The sound of a gun cocking before unloading a bullet from the chamber projects throughout the arena, as “Made You Look” by Nas begins playing over the PA system to a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. From the gorilla position, Boston emerges, holding a towel wrapped around his neck. With fire in his eyes, he looks out amongst the audience, as he begins walking toward the top of the ramp. Once he has reached the peak of his mode of conveyance toward the ring, Boston simply stops and smirks, raising up a lead pipe he holds in his hands. Boston looks at it for a moment, almost admiring it.

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

Once at ringside, Boston jumps upon the ring apron with a single leap, before catapulting himself over the top rope, landing on the mat with a bounce toward whichever corner he had been designated. He leaves the lead pipe in his corner, turning towards the entranceway as he waits for Bryan to make his way to the ring.

JOHNSON: ”That is a lead pipe. Boston is bringing a lead pipe to the ring.”

VASSA: ”Bryan tried to use one on Ana, what’s your point?”

JOHNSON: ”That was a Last Man Standing match, Boston looks like he’s out here ready to mug somebody.”

VASSA: ”Well, if Bryan gives up his shit he won’t have to worry about catching a beating.”

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.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at one hundred and ninety eight pounds! BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

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

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell rings both men exit their corners and slowly approach each other in the center of the ring. With their eyes locked on one another, the two then take their stance as they begin to slowly circle each other. Making the first move, Bryan shoots in and wraps up Boston’ leg with both arms. He drives forward, trying to take Boston down to the mat, Boston is surprised by the action. The double leg takedown stuns Boston for the moment, as Bryan begins to send rights and lefts down onto him. Bryan grabs the back of Boston’ head, sending his fist over and over into it. Soon enough referee Larry Collins steps in, calling for Bryan to stop with the closed fist shots. The distraction is enough for Boston to push Bryan away, allowing him to scurry to his feet.

Locking eyes once more, the two circle again. Taking charge, Boston then lunges forward and the two lock up. Wasting no time, Boston drives his elbow into the side of Bryan’s head. Boston throws a forearm into the face of Bryan, a follow up from the elbow. Boston quickly wraps Bryan up into a hammerlock, twisting his right arm behind his back. Bryan yelps in pain, but quickly ducks behind him to reverse the hold! Boston looks for a way out, dropping to a knee as he tosses Bryan over his shoulder with a Snapmare! Bryan hits the mat, quickly popping up to be taken down with an Armdrag! Bryan quickly returns the favor, getting back to his feet and tossing Boston with one as well! Boston looks annoyed, as Bryan keeps his distance.

JOHNSON: ”Interesting start here, Bryan definitely trying to see how this plays out.”

VASSA: ”Bryan can’t keep away from Boston forever. He’s going to get caught eventually.”

Boston gets back up quickly to his feet, Bryan lunges in for a forearm shot. Boston side steps him, and pushes him towards the ropes. Bryan takes off, as Boston quickly leaps over him on the rebound. Bryan hits the other side, and slides under the legs of Boston. Getting up to his feet he quickly locks in a headlock. Boston struggles for a moment, pushing his way out and getting a headlock of his own! Bryan quickly reverses it, locking Boston into a side headlock of his own. It doesn’t last very long, Boston spins and lifts Bryan up drilling him into the mat with a Brainbuster. Bryan lands hard, as Boston quickly moves in for the cover.

ONE

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Bryan Williams kicks out almost immediately. Boston is not really surprised, and picks up a dazed Bryan Williams.He tosses Bryan towards the ropes, trying for a clothesline that Bryan immediately ducks. Using his momentum he spins around to get behind Boston, but Boston reacts with another elbow. Bryan staggers backwards, but takes down a charging Boston to the ground! Boston has no time to recover, as Bryan locks him into an Armbar!

Boston grimaces in pain as Bryan Williams wrenches his right arm. Bryan tries to lock it in quickly, but Boston reaches out to grab his hand. Bryan is unable to hyperextend the arm, allowing Boston a chance to get to his knee. He powers through, getting a base as Bryan keeps trying for the hold. Using all of his strength he lifts Bryan up into a Powerbomb, Bryan immediately letting go of the hold! Bryan flips out, landing on his feet and catches Boston with a European Uppercut!

JOHNSON: ”Uppercut lands!”

VASSA: ”Bryan is taking control here, Boston needs to be careful.”

With Boston lunged over from the uppercut, Bryan takes a few steps to the side and then runs forward, jumps into the air and hit Boston in the side of the head with a single leg dropkick, knocking him down to the canvas. Pushing himself up instantly, Bryan doesn’t let up as he draws his attention to Boston’s nearby leg. Taking a step forward, Bryan raises his foot up from the mat as high as he can before slamming it down and stomping on Boston’s ankle. Boston rolls over to his side and quickly grabs his right ankle.

Bryan doesn’t let up as he jumps into the air and comes down with a stomp across Boston’s right shin. Boston roars out, obvious in pain, as Bryan uses his knee to create pressure on the leg. Bryan grabs Boston’ foot, pulling it towards him as he tries to bend the leg in half! Boston grabs at Bryan’s hair, quickly tossing him away from his limb. Boston tries getting up to a knee, but Bryan is right there to stop him. He grabs Boston, who pops up and catches him with a Spinebuster! Bryan is drilled into the mat, catching him by surprise! Boston quickly moves in, covering Bryan for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Both men get to their feet, ready to get back into this fight. Bryan then moves in quickly and grabs him by the head with both hands. He tries for a headbutt, but it seems to backfire! Bryan stumbles backwards, allowing for Boston to connect with a Running Flying Knee. With Bryan stunned, Boston grabs Bryan’s wrist and whips him to the corner. Just as Williams collides into the corner, Boston rushes in right behind him and follows that up with a Running Cannonball! He slams into Bryan, as Bryan crumbles to the mat. Boston gets back to his feet, looking out to the crowd as they begin to boo him.

Boston wastes no time, exploding forward as he grabs Bryan and drills him with a DDT. With the match in his control, Boston picks Bryan up again. He quickly tries to throw him to the other side of the ring.Bryan does his best to reverse the attempt, but to no avail. With Bryan on skates, Boston backs him to the opposite side of the ring and then drives his back into the corner with impact. Bryan slams hard into the turnbuckle, slumping over as he does. Boston then unloads with a flurry of lefts and rights, beating down Bryan with a furious rage.

JOHNSON: ”Look at Boston go! He’s a man possessed!”

VASSA: ”Bryan could be in trouble here!”

After landing nearly a dozen punches to the head and body, Boston then locks both hands onto the middle ropes on each side of Bryan. He then uses them for leverage as he pulls himself forward and drives his shoulder into Bryan’s stomach. Pulling away, Boston looks down at Bryan who is doubled over, holding his abdomen. Boston then drops his arm slightly and fires upward, connecting with a European uppercut that stands Bryan straight up. Boston then hits him with a second European uppercut, sending his head flying backwards. Once his head reaches it’s destination and comes back forward, Boston hits him with a third European uppercut, knocking him into a daze.

Boston then lifts Bryan up and sits him on top of the corner. Placing his foot on the middle rope, Boston then pulls himself up but before he can get his second foot planted, Bryan grabs onto his head with both hands and then leaps forward. Pushing Boston backwards, Bryan flies forward with him underneath and as they come down, Bryan slams the back of Boston’s head into the canvas. With Boston’s head still in his clutches, Bryan then lifts it up from the mat and slams it back down, banging it against the mat. He then pushes himself away from Boston and stands to his feet.

JOHNSON: ”These two are just trying to kill each other!”

VASSA: ”I think Bryan might be setting up for something here!”

Boston is quick to get back up, but Bryan catches him with a Roaring Elbow! The shot almost knocks Boston out, causing him to go out on his feet. Boston stumbles backwards, as Bryan takes a moment to try and recover. Bryan finally turns around, ready to continue to his assault. A quick front kick from Boston stops him in his tracks. Boston quickly grabs Bryan, and dumps him to the mat with a Pele Kick! The kick lands true, knocking Bryan down to the mat.

Slow to his feet, Boston gives Bryan enough time to get to his as well before the pain has a chance to settle in. Unfortunately the time was enough for Bryan to get up, as he has recovered in time. Bryan lunges forward with a forearm shot, leaping towards Boston. Ducking out of the way, Boston side steps Bryan and quickly locks him into a bearhug! He easily lifts Bryan off of the mat, squeezing the life out of him. Targeting the damaged ribs from earlier, Bryan looks to be in serious pain! Bryan does what he can to get out of the hold, headbutting Boston in the face!

JOHNSON: ”Headbutt!”

VASSA: ”What a desperate move from Bryan!”

Boston falls backwards, trapping Bryan in the hold. The two hit the ground, but Bryan rolls forwards and gets on his feet! Boston lets go of the hold, as Bryan drops to the mat and pulls Boston into his guard! In one swift motion he locks Boston into the Triangle Choke! The crowd cheers, as Boston immediately looks to get out of the hold. Lucky for him the ropes are nearby. He reaches out, but his hands can’t touch the rope. Turning his body he is able to get his foot on the rope, breaking the hold!

The crowd groans, thinking that Bryan had just stolen this one. With both men on their feet, the fight quickly begins again. Boston lays into Bryan with a forearm shot, but Bryan responds back with one of his own! Bryan pushes Boston backwards, slamming his open hand onto his bare chest! The resounding smack echoes throughout the Smoothie King Center, and leaves a bright red mark on Boston’s chest. Boston grimaces in pain, but attacks again with another forearm. The shot stuns Bryan, knocking him backwards. Boston connects with another one, and looks to connect with another!

JOHNSON: ”These two won’t give up!”

VASSA: ”This is getting out of hand!”

As Boston moves in Bryan catches him with a Bicycle Knee! The strike catches Boston under the jaw, his legs immediately turning to jelly. Bryan grabs Boston before he can fall, the front chancery quickly turning into a vertical suplex attempt. As Bryan lifts Boston up, he quickly rotates him sending him crashing to the mat for the Rolling Release Suplex! The crowd cheers, as Bryan looks to be fired back up! Boston stumbles back up to his feet, as Bryan levels him with a Spinning Backfist! The move causes Boston to stumble backwards, hitting the ropes. Bryan catches him with another Bicycle Knee on the rebound! Boston falls to the mat, as Bryan quickly makes the cover!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Both men lay on the mat, but Bryan is the first to stir. He quickly gets up to a knee, catching his breath. Bryan Williams gets back up, and turns around in time to see Boston charging at him! He ducks and back body drops Boston over the ropes and onto the floor. Boston crashes to the floor, as Bryan looks out towards the crowd. They cheer him on, he takes a moment to wait for Boston. Boston finally stands up, as Bryan hits the ropes. Boston looks up and sees Bryan flying through the air at him! Bryan slams into him, the Suicide Dive connecting flush! Bryan crashes hard into Boston, sending him crashing over the barricade!

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

Bryan stirs first, getting to his feet as Boston stays tangled in a mess of chairs and fans near the ringside area. Bryan looks over towards him, and then Larry Collins. Larry is deep into his count, not stopping anytime soon. Bryan, cursing under his breath, makes a dash towards the ring!

“Six! … Seven!”

Bryan rolls into the ring, as Boston is still on the outside. He’s trying to get back into the ring, but he’s still a beat too slow. He tries getting to his feet, a fan nearby is having trouble getting back up. Boston shoves him, creating some space.

“Eight!”

Boston finally stands up, as he takes a big deep breath! He tries taking a step, but it appears a chair has wrapped around his leg! He trips, falling towards the barricade as he catches himself.

“Nine!”

Boston looks on, looking at Bryan as he stands in the ring. Boston mutters something under his breath, cursing himself as Bryan shrugs.

“Ten!”

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

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

“Lions Below” begins to play, as Boston throws the chair in frustration. He was over the barricade, but just missed being able to get back into the ring. Bryan looks on, almost disappointed in the way things turned out. Boston clearly looks frustrated, grabbing the lead pipe as he slides back into the ring. Bryan steps forward, getting Larry Collins out of the ring as Boston makes his way towards them!

JOHNSON: ”Bryan just got lucky here tonight!”

VASSA: ”No doubt about it, these two were trying to kill each other out there. Blind luck saves the both of them, but Bryan gets the win.”

JOHNSON: ”Boston doesn’t look to be too happy, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”I couldn’t imagine him being okay with that result.”

The crowd anticipates something bad happening, but Boston stops halfway. He looks at Bryan, and then the lead pipe he holds in his hand. He takes a deep breath, and runs his hand through his hair. Bryan looks on, ready for a fight, as Boston just walks away from him. He looks oddly calm, as he leaves the ring.

JOHNSON: ”What was that all about? Boston looked ready to cave Bryan’s skull in. Instead, he just walks away.”

VASSA: ”Pure luck for Bryan Williams here tonight. He better go play the lottery or something later.”

Boston heads up the ramp, walking towards the back as Bryan continues to look on. He looks confused, the cameras show Boston in a complete calm as he walks through the curtain into the backstage area.

MARQUIS: “Just whip your dick out, James. Stop being a fucking pussy. It’s not Jason Cashe unless he shows off his dick to rebuild his crumbling sense of security. So, hurry the fuck up.”

DEEN: “But I’m not even Jason Cashe! I’m Jimmy Good, why am whipping out my dick?”

MARQUIS: “I don’t have a dick to whip out, James! Just take it out, walk around and claim you’re walking with a limp.”

WILLIAMS: “Um, hello? Why is he whipping out his dick?”

Both James and Persephone look at Bryan, who is standing on his side of the tall table within Bryan’s locker room. He is sweating, as Persephone didn’t give him the chance to have a shower. They are silent as they look at him before Persephone shakes her head.

MARQUIS: “Babe, I would ask you to whip out your dick in order to make fun of Cashe because, at the end of the day, this is just a failing parody that really speaks about his character. Just the fact that it’s failing works. However, while I would ask you to whip it out, as I said, you’re my enemy right now.”

How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Style #11 – Lose to Bryan Multiple Times

Persephone gets on her side of the table, getting her arm in position.

MARQUIS: “Come on, Brother. Do your best because you’re going to need it, Williams.”

Bryan looks at the camera, as if on the episode of the Office. He watches as James gets in position as well to referee the match for the two of them, James obviously biased as he hypes up Persephone. Bryan shakes his head and begins to focus, grabbing her hand and looking into her eyes. James grabs their hands, looking at the both of them back and forth. He stares at Williams for a moment after a double take.

DEEN: “Wow, your eyes are gorgeous.”

WILLIAMS: “Oh! Thank you, James. Your eyes are very nice as well.”

DEEN: “Oh my, thank you as well then.”

He smiles at Bryan and gets serious once again a second later.

DEEN: “I want a good, clean fight here. Are you both ready? Set, go!”

James lets their fists go, and Persephone loses immediately. Her mouth is dropped open in surprised, as James gasps at the turn of events. They can’t believe it, and Bryan looks around awkwardly.

WILLIAMS: “Um, it’s all about grip, that’s all. You just have to have a good grip and-”

MARQUIS: “No! Fuck that, run that shit again! We’re going to have me winning on camera, because this is all about me, okay? Fuck that. Rematch, let’s go.”

Take Two.

Persephone and Bryan are locked up once again. James, once again, calls for them to get ready. Once he lets go, Bryan slams Persephone’s hand back down on the table. She yelps out in pain and Bryan’s eyes widen, making his way over to her.

WILLIAMS: “Are you okay?”

Persephone pushes him away, growling and scowling at Bryan.

MARQUIS: “I’m fine, don’t touch me! Nothing you do hurts me at all, little man. You’re less than me, I’m better than you. You’re just someone’s wife, you cuck. There’s no way in hell you’re a real man like me.”

WILLIAMS: “Are you in character right now?”

MARQUIS: “Yes, of course, I’m never out of character. Now, run that shit again. I know I don’t deserve it, but give me one more chance to beat you.”

Williams opens his mouth to answer, but she talks over him before he can.

MARQUIS: “I don’t need your permission! Even if I don’t deserve it, I’m getting it anyway. Light that shit up!”

Take Three.

Bryan beats her again. As soon as James Deen let their hands go, he kept his arm still; making it seem like it’s even and that it’s a good match because if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s making talentless pieces of shit look good. However, in the end, he slowly pressed her hand against the table; nearly mocking her and being careful to not hurt Persephone.

Persephone flips.

MARQUIS: “Fuck it! It doesn’t matter if I lose to you anyway, Williams, because I’m better than you no matter what. You can beat me in wrestling, but I have you beat in life! I never said that I was the best arm wrestler anyway, so it doesn’t matter if you beat me because I never said I was the best. Keep winning you matches and improving upon your career, Williams, you loser. Down the river, not across the street.”

Persephone, through her rant, gets angrier and angrier; finally blowing up and yelling.

MARQUIS: “I’m out of here. I’m retiring!”

How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Style #3 – Threaten Retirement in the Face of Defeat

Persephone leaves the room and Bryan looks at James, who shrugs; more into his phone and maintaining Persephone’s Twitter presence than he is over the situation. Doesn’t matter, though, because two seconds later Persephone returns into the room; heading over and grabbing Bryan’s hand to shake it.

MARQUIS: “You are a great competitor and one of the better wrestlers in 4CW, I have nothing but respect for you. You went out there and you got it done, I have nothing but props for you. Now, can you please drop your pants so I can insert your sweaty cock into my mouth?”

Bryan stumbles over his words as he continues to shake her hand in surprise. Persephone laughs, letting go of his hand.

MARQUIS: “I’m just kidding, babes. You’re stinky, go head into the shower. I have to start getting ready. Love you!”

She gives Bryan a quick peck on the lips, which looks very strange considering her current attire. She walks off, James following behind without looking up from his phone; the two of them leaving Bryan alone as he finally catches his words. He laughs, shaking his head and turning to head into the showers. He mumbles out.

WILLIAMS: “Love you too.”

In the long hallway outside the row of locker rooms Aidan Carlisle sits on one of the benches, finishing lacing up her boots. She’s decked out in her white ring gear, her usual choice for these kinds of matches. Beside her, her husband, Liam, is checking over the contents of his own bag.

O’SHEA: “Gauze pads, bandages, lidocaine, forceps, bacitracin, K-Tape… I think I’ve got it covered.”

Aidan rolls her eyes but laughs as she double-knots her laces and puts her foot back down on the floor. She shakes her head as she looks over at him.

CARLISLE: “You’re hopeless, you know that? You didn’t need to bring all that stuff.”

Liam gives her a look before gesturing to the “No Holds Barred” stipulation beneath her match on the Adrenaline promotional poster hanging on the wall.

O’SHEA: “I beg t’ differ.”

CARLISLE: “I know. I just meant I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, you know? And 4CW has its own medical staff, you realize?”

O’SHEA: “Yes, I realize that, and I don’t trust them even half as far as I can throw you.”

After a few moments of consideration, there’s nothing she can say to argue the point.

O’SHEA: “Don’t try t’ tell me ye won’t need patching up after this.”

CARLISLE: “Oh no, there will be blood.”

Aidan flashes a grin.

CARLISLE: “Copious amounts of it. I’m sure the bill for repairs and dry cleaning on my gear is going to be in the triple digits.”

A look crosses Liam’s face that seems to concede agreement on at least that point. Then he gives a nod to the bench on the other side of her.

O’SHEA: “What’s with those?”

Aidan’s attention turns to the pair of dolls sitting on the bench. They’re crude and handmade. They both have red hair, but one is wearing a nurse’s costume and the other is dressed in black. They were obviously made to look like Amber Ryan and Nurse Kinsley.

CARLISLE: “I don’t know. They just showed up…”

Her mind wanders briefly back to her encounter with Miss Rosalie, but she shakes it off.

O’SHEA: “Are those voodoo dolls?”

Again, Aidan grins.

CARLISLE: “I think so, yeah. They’re kind of neat.”

O’SHEA: “You mean creepy?”

Aidan gives a half-shrug with one shoulder and picks up the pair of dolls.

CARLISLE: “I dunno, it’s a little poetic. Here I am, sitting with them both in the palm of my hands. Figuratively and literally. You know me, I don’t believe in this stuff, lighting these on fire might be entertaining, but it’s not going to cause either of them to spontaneously combust.

What I mean is, heading into this match they’re both so confident that I’m not even a factor because they’ve beaten me once. The person that arrogance benefits the most… is me. While they’ve both written me off, I’m going to be there on their heels every fucking step of the way. Neither of them is going to be able to blink without finding my fist in their face.”

She pauses to collect the thoughts running rampant through her head. Liam doesn’t interject, but a small smirk is on his face as he listens.

CARLISLE: “Cashe I think called me the Lady Terminator once. I know at the time it was a jab, because everything he said was, but y’know… tonight, it fits. Because no matter what they do, tonight I can’t be bargained with. I can’t be reasoned with. I won’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And I absolutely will not stop… until I’ve torn them both apart.”

For a long while a silence hangs as Liam stares at Aidan.

O’SHEA: “I know, and when you’re done, I’ll be right here to put you back together again.”

Aidan throws up her hands at the comment, sighing.

CARLISLE: “Is that a humpty dumpty joke? You too, really? I’m in a bulking phase.”

Before Liam can answer and try to defend himself against the accusation, 4CW interviewer Gabriel Hartman slinks down the hallway.

HARTMAN: “Ah, there you are. I was hoping I might get a word—”

O’SHEAIDAN: ”No!”

Liam and Aidan cut him simultaneously as they both stand. Liam grabs the bags and Aidan picks up the two dolls, her souvenirs for this trip to New Orleans. The two of them leave Hartman standing there stammering as they head down the opposite end of the hall.

The lights fall dark in the arena, a light buzz from the fan excitement is felt throughout the building. A white light begins to strobe towards the entrance way. Images of families in parks on swings, playing ball, picnicking are projected onto the ring. Every perfect family scene is depicted in the ring rapidly as the white strobe light gets brighter and brighter with the help of additional lights. Then suddenly the light stops, shines brightly as a deafening “BOOM!” fills the arena and the images are shown being eaten by a projected flame. Once again the arena goes black for a quick moment before the lights in the arena are back on. The crowd looks around, towards the entrance and then towards the ring. In the center of the ring is the Speaker looking quite different than before. Long, greasy hair. White makeup with black around the eyes. A purple, what appears to be snake skin, suit outlining his rather slender build.

SPEAKER: “Ladies and gentleman, good evening. You all know who I am, you all know who I am with. A few months ago something tragic happened that I did not believe I could bring Him back from but I did. And when I did…he was still changed. Smarter. Wiser. His eyes had been opened to the wonders of the world, to the curiosities of nature, to the deceptions of man.”

The Speaker never moved from the center of the ring. He stood there as if he owned it. He stood there like it was his and if someone wanted to take it from him, they would need to do so by force.

SPEAKER: “Do you know what happens when you offer someone something they have wanted since they were nothing but a boy and then you snatch it from their hands the very same night? Do you know how dangerous a man becomes when he believes he has found something he has yearned for his entire LIFE and then it is pulled away without any explanation at all? We are the last of the Mortas. We are the last living bloodline of a family that has thought, seen, and done things much worse than any pathetic human from the Smith family could do. Viduus and I are the only family we have to each other.”

The Speaker is visibly becoming angrier and angrier with each word.

SPEAKER: “Dakota Smith offered us a spot in his family. Dakota offered up a form of protection. A home. He promised big things. He painted this picture of the two most dangerous men in 4CW dominating and then….then Viduus slammed him down to the ring and ended his bid for his precious heart. Viduus almost killed the head of the Smith family and Dakota couldn’t take it. We told him it was every man for himself at Fright Night. We told him these things could happen and once the event was over, we could hug as brothers in the fight. Dakota, without his heart, is like a child without a toy. When Dakota doesn’t get what he wants he turns into a dog who has been beaten and had his food taken. Dakota becomes a whiny bitch who will snap at all others who near him except his master. Dakota Smith has tucked his tail between his legs and become nothing more than a housetrained pet in his home of 4CW.”

The Speaker turns his body towards the entry way.

SPEAKER: “Without further ado…my brother Viduus is going to make his way out here with Dakota. Together they will walk hand in hand like brothers. Ladies….gentleman…I give you Dakota and my brother…VIIIDDDUUUUUSSSS!!!”

Viduus’s music begins to play loudly as the fans are confused as to why Dakota would walk out here hand in hand with the man who cost him his victory versus Genie Carlson. Viduus makes his exit first holding a leash in hand. He gives a small tug as a small pitbull puppy, tail between his legs, makes his way out and follows his master. The Speaker is laughing hysterically inside the ring as Viduus places the pup on the apron and slides in the ring. The puppy shakes slightly as it is scared from the sights and sounds of the arena.

SPEAKER: “Nothing but a scared puppy. COME!”

The puppy approaches the Speaker who promptly orders him to sit next to him and he does.

SPEAKER: “You were once great Dakota but this is you. This is what you have become. The puppy that everyone wants to pet once they walk through these doors but a puppy that no one fears. You used to be the grown dog. You used to be feared. To even utter your name would send shudders down a person’s spine but now? You’re nothing. We don’t need you. We don’t need your family. Viduus? He is going to show you why you do not offer us something and then take it away with no reason. Dakota, the next few weeks will be unlike anything you have experienced in your entire career. It’s time for you to feel our pain.”

The lights go dark again as the strobe lights are back. After a quick few moments, Viduus and Speaker are gone. The puppy is left in the middle of the ring, whining for its owners to take him to scared to run out of the ring himself. The timekeeper at ringside makes his way into the ring to gather the puppy and bring him to the back as we go backstage.

The focus shifts backstage in the Smoothie King Center, where watching on from a monitor at the events which transpired ringside, Alessandro Quagliaterre attempts to interact with another human being.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Did you see what Viduus Morta just said?”

He receives no response, so he repeats what he said again, in case they didn’t hear him.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Did you see what Viduus Morta just said?”

Still nothing, so he taps the individual on their shoulder. The individual turns around and it is Mike Powers, with a pudding cup in one hand, and a spoon in another hand. He casually takes another scoop out of the pudding as Alessandro asks him for the third time, the same question.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Did you see what Viduus Morta just said?”

Mike looks at Alessandro blankly, he takes another taste of his pudding and then answers.

POWERS: “Naww Man. I’m just over here minding my own business, finishing my bathroom break up, eating my pudding.”

Alessandro is less than pleased with his response, and as Mike goes to take another bite out of his pudding, Alessandro smacks it out of his hand in anger.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Listen here you overweight cuck. When I’m talking to you, I become the most important person, everything else you do… becomes irrelevant.”

Mike looks down in horror at his fallen pudding cup, and then back up in anger at Alessandro.

POWERS: “You’re such an ass. No wonder nobody likes you. I was eating that pudding, and you ruined it?”

Alessandro shrugged his shoulders.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I felt like it.”

POWERS: “Man… I don’t need to stand here and take this… not part of my job description to interact with you… I’m hopping back out ringside to the entrance booth.”

Mike walked away to make his way back out to his stationary position ringside to do his job. After Alessandro begrudgingly had picked on him, expect Mike Powers to get payback by mispronouncing Alessandro’s last name during his entrance, which Alessandro did not think about that as a liable consequence. Meantime as Mike exited, Gabriel Hartman snuck up into the frame, and Alessandro stared at him in jest.

QUAGLIATERRE: “What on earth… are you?”

He was referring to the Gabriel Hartman’s strange appearance, in Alessandro’s estimation.

HARTMAN: “Hello Mr. Quagliaterre, now that I have a moment of your time, would you care to spare a few words in your first ever 4CW Interview?”

Gabriel Hartman appeared excited to get the first ever exclusive with Alessandro Quagliaterre.

QUAGLIATERRE: “NO!”

The only problem with that enthusiasm was, Alessandro was not interested, which Hartman tried to inquire the reason behind his reluctance.

HARTMAN: “Can I ask Why?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “I don’t do interviews. They are pointless. All you backstage reporters always have a hidden agenda to try expose the talent on the roster as buffoons. I’m not allowing you to mitigate me into that trap. I don’t care how persuasive you are, you can forget about it straight away. It’s not happening. Beat It.”

Hartman attempted to push his buttons.

HARTMAN: “Come On Ales’ give me something? You got nothing you want to say about Chris Madison? Your match is mere moments away?”

Alessandro’s eyes fired up as he yelled out.

QUAGLIATERRE: “DO NOT CALL ME ALES’. I HATE THAT NICKNAME. MY NAME IS ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE!”

He gave Hartman a flawless pronunciation, in case he was mistaken, but Alessandro was still enraged, so he eliminated all the other possibilities.

QUAGLIATERRE: “NOT ALES. NOT ALEJANDRO. NOT ALIBABA. NOT QUAGMIRE. NOT QUAGLAIEALIEPIOAOAOEOITERA. THEY ALL REMIND ME OF A PAST LIFE I JUST WANT TO FORGET. AS FOR CHRIS MADISON… I GOT NO COMMENT.”

Alessandro had plenty to say prematch, but now that event day had rolled around, he remained oddly quiet on his opponent.

HARTMAN: “This interview is going really well.”

Unbeknown to Alessandro’s knowledge, Hartman had tricked him into the start of an interview. Once Alessandro realized this, he responded very calmly and calculated to Hartman in a callous tone.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I’m going to give you till the count of ten, to move out of my way. If you’re not gone by the time I reach ten, you can forget about Chris Madison, I’ll beat you up.”

Hartman blows a raspberry, he didn’t believe Alessandro would be capable of going that far.

HARTMAN: “Pfft… As If?”

Alessandro began counting.

QUAGLIATERRE: “ONE…TWO…”

He paused looking at Hartman not flinching in front of him, so he decided to jump the count by several numbers.

QUAGLIATERRE: “NINE…”

Hartman got startled by the jumped count, and made a beeline to move away from Alessandro as fast as humanly possible. Alessandro let out a sigh of relief.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Finally… tranquillity.”

He looked around the empty hallway of the arena.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I’ve been in 4 Corners Wrestling for a fair amount of time now. Approximately about eleven weeks? But who’s keeping count?”

Clearly, Alessandro was keeping count.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I chatted a lot of shit before tonight about Chris Madison. And he in my opinion chatted a lot of shit back, most of it baseless, and inaccurate, but it’s all just banter. He made some good points, I made better arguments. Now usually I come out here, every Adrenaline, and I run down my opponent, and talk about how I’m going to beat them.”

Alessandro knew he was getting a bit repetitive.

QUAGLIATERRE: “However tonight, I’m not going to do that. We all know I can talk and talk and talk until I give someone verbal aids. But do you know what I’ve never told anybody? Why am I here? What is my purpose? What is my ambition?”

He was posing himself with many questions.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I’m not going to answer all of those with a straight answer. In fact, I’m not going to answer any of the questions directly. Instead I will leave you with a hint, a tease. A code for you to crack. Don’t worry it’s not that difficult to decipher, just three dates.”

He held up a finger, to represent the first date.

QUAGLIATERRE: “04.29.15”

He then held up a second finger, for the second date.

QUAGLIATERRE: “04.27.16”

He then held up a third finger, for the third date.

QUAGLIATERRE: “04.26.17”

He then held up a fourth finger.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I know I said three dates, but I got four fingers up. I lied! What you going to do about it? Nothing. Is four the amount of fingers I like to fist a pussy with? Possibly. But that’s a story for another day. The above three dates, for those clever enough to care, represent an event of significant importance. Now the reason I have a fourth finger up, is because that fourth date, is yet to happen. What we do know though, is it’s going to happen this year, and when it does…”

He smiled, with a plot scheming in his head.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Everybody else can forget their plans on what they have planned, because it’s going to be my day, it’s going to be my night. For whatever date that event falls on this year whether it be 04.25.18 … or another, that will be the day that I OWN THE NIGHT… JUST LIKE I AM GOING TO OWN TONIGHT!”

He then gave a final salute with the four fingers for goodbye and then marched on out of the way ready for his match with Chris Madison.

UNDERCARD
ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE VS. CHRIS MADISON

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

The lights dim out to an almost pitch black darkness. The crowd falls silent wondering what is happening. The sound of a woman screams.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

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

Yeah”

“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

Disturbia

Am I scaring you tonight

Your mind is in Disturbia

Ain’t used to what you like

Disturbia

Disturbia”

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.

VASSA: ”Lyrics, I just love the lyrics!”

JOHNSON: ”That was quite the entrance, wasn’t it?”

VASSA: ”It was! I almost stood up myself and sang along with the words like a drunken night at karaoke.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m glad that you were able to keep yourself from doing that, Vinny. It’s all about self control…”

VASSA: ”Something that this man just so happens to not possess himself! AQ is all over the damn place on social media. He talks a big game…”

JOHNSON: ”And thus far he has been able to back up every word that he’s said. His biggest win so far in 4CW has been against the former Pride Champion, Kimitsu Zombie.”

VASSA: ”He has a whole other level of challenge in front of him tonight with Chris Madison being his opponent.”

JOHNSON: ”This will a true test of his capabilities. He’s been successful elsewhere and strives for the same result here in 4CW. Tonight will be a fine example of what he’s really made of.”

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! He is a former 4CW Pride Champion, ‘Mayhem’ CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

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

JOHNSON: ”I can’t think of a single person who comes to the ring with as much intensity and focus in their eyes than this man right here.”

VASSA: ”He’s hit a few bumps along the way since returning to 4CW but this man is NOT someone to take lightly.”

JOHNSON: ”True, he’s hit some speed bumps, but it’s been non-stop with no breaks whatsoever since his return. He’s been put against some of the top stars in 4CW at the moment, one of which is the current Pride Champion that he defeated.”

VASSA: ”There isn’t any shame in his game. Bronx, Williams, and Riddle are not one’s to be taken lightly. Just two weeks ago we watched as Riddle arguably put on his best performance in 4CW against Madison. Someone has to win, and not everyone can. There has to be someone to lose and last week that just so happened to be Chris. Put him and Madison against each other in two weeks and the result could be the complete opposite.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen career matches from both Riddle and Williams against this man. He may not have came out with the victory, but he brought the best out of them two.”

VASSA: ”Oh hands down, no doubt about it! People keep second guessing Madison and it’s going to come back to cost them dearly when standing across from him inside of that ring.”

In the center of the ring, the official looks to each corner, getting the nod from both Alessandro and Madison. With both men ready to get things underway, he throws his hand into the air, signaling for bell to start the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

Wasting no time at all, both men quickly exit their corners, heading to the center of the ring. Alessandro begins to mouth off to Madison, leaving himself open for just a split second, which was all that Madison needed to make his move. Shooting in, Madison wraps up Alessandro’s leg, lifting him off his feet and driving him backwards before slamming him to the canvas with a monstrous single leg takedown. Alessandro tries to pull himself out from underneath Madison but doesn’t succeed. Madison has the position on him and with nowhere for Alessandro to go, Madison unloads with rapid lefts and rights, beating Alessandro’s head from both sides. After taking a few blows to the head, Alessandro begins to cover himself, fending off Madison’s attacks. Faking a left, Madison forces Alessandro to flinch and as he realizes nothing hit him, Alessandro uncovers his head only to then receive a vicious right elbow to the mouth from Madison.

With Alessandro stunned, Madison locks onto his head before rotating his body and positioning himself beside Alessandro. Hooking an arm over Alessandro’s head and another behind the knee of his leg, Madison cradles him on the canvas before driving swift, impactful knees into his ribs. Each knee knocks more and more air from Alessandro’s lungs until he’s literally fighting for air. Pushing himself up, Madison circles Alessandro for a short moment before going back to work and pulling him up to his feet. Alessandro is still fighting to regain his breath, leaving him exposed for Madison clock him upside the head with a quick right. The punch forces Alessandro to spin in the opposite direction before falling forward into the ropes. He bounces off and as he falls back, Madison steps in behind him, locking in a half nelson. Back stepping, Madison drags him away from the ropes before lifting him up and slamming him backwards with a half nelson suplex!

The suplex isn’t enough to keep him down as Alessandro quickly begins to push himself up. Unfortunately for him, Madison is already up to his feet with his eyes locked on him. Rushing in, Madison kicks his right foot into the side of Alessandro’s left knee. Again, Madison kicks him in the side of the same knee, but still doesn’t force his knee to give out from under him. Changing things up, Madison then kicks his left foot into the side of Alessandro’s right knee. Jumping forward, Madison lifts his leg, raising his knee and planting it directly underneath Alessandro’s chin, knocking him into the air with a flying knee. Crashing against the canvas, Aleesandro rolls over to his side, pushing himself up with one arm. Running past him, Madison hits the ropes in front of Alessandro and as he comes back on the return, he leaps forward, hitting Alessandro with another flying knee, this one of the running variety. Alessandro maintains his upright position for a short moment before his eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls back down to the mat. Dropping to his knees, Madison rolls him over to his back before making the cover as the nearby official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”And a kickout from AQ!”

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ, Madison isn’t playing any games tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”Does he ever? Alessandro’s talked a big game all week. Chris is just doing what he does best and taking the fight to his front door.”

VASSA: ”More like trying to knock him out in under four minutes!”

Alessandro rolls over to his side, still somewhat in a daze from the blows to the head. Stepping in beside him, Madison grabs ahold of him, pulling him up to his feet. Pulling Alessandro in by the arm, Madison drives his knee upward into his stomach as he closes in, forcing him to buckle over. Hooking an arm over Alessandro’s head, Madison then grabs the side of his pants, lifting him upside down into the air. He stalls for a short moment, delaying the inevitable brainbuster that awaits. The short delay was all Alessandro needed to escape what was coming next. Slipping out of Madison’s hold, Alessandro dropped to his feet behind him. Instantly, Madison spun around, throwing an elbow for Alessandro’s head but missing as Alessandro ducked at the last second. Popping back up, Alessandro wrapped both arms around Madison, pulling him in before lifting him into the air and slamming him to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex!

Madison quickly rolled over to his stomach before pushing himself up to all fours, before Alessandro was right there to stop him from progressing any further. Hitting Madison over the back with a solid forearm shot, he kept Madison down. Hitting him with another, and another, Alessandro eventually knocked Madison flat to his stomach before unloading on him with a fury of kicks and stomps. While Alessandro continued his assault, Madison refused to stay put, fighting through the attack and pushing himself back up to all fours. Hitting him with another forearm across the top of the back, Alessandro stopped his climb back up. He then grabbed Madison by the head, taking full control and pulling him to his feet. As Madison stood, he brushed Alessandro’s hands away from his head before lunging forward and slamming both hands into his chest, pushing him backwards towards the nearby corner. Alessandro appeared to be off balance which looked like an opportunity for Madison to lunge in for a lockup. Side stepping him, Alessandro took Madison down face first into the turnbuckle with a drop toe hold.

The head on collision to the turnbuckle did quite a number on Madison, allowing Alessandro to take full control of the match for the next few minutes. After nailing Madison with a double axe-handle, Alessandro went for a potential match ending blow. He threw his fist forward, aiming for Madison’s heart but as it closed in, Madison locked onto his arm. Pulling Alessandro in, Madison went to throw him to the ropes but before he could release, Alessandro planted his foot and pulled Madison in, whipping him to the ropes instead! Settling into position, Alessandro braced himself as Madison hit the ropes and came back on the return. Lifting Madison into the air, he then turned to the opposite direction before planting Madison into the mat with a spinebuster. The impact from the move alone caused the entire ring to shake as the thud traveled throughout the building. Popping back to his feet, Alessandro rushed over to the nearest corner, climbing as fast as he could to the top. With Madison in place, Alessandro leaped off the top of the corner, coming down with a head to head brutal headbutt!

VASSA: ”No way Madison survives a headbutt from that gigantic dome of Alessandro’s!”

JOHNSON: ”That was quite the move, and quite the risk. Alessandro pulled it off though.”

VASSA: ”Rocky Dennis himself would be proud of the use of his forehead right there! Someone check Madison for a pulse.”

JOHNSON: ”Stop exaggerating. His head isn–“

VASSA: ”Let’s see if that head managed to put Madison away for the three count!”

Alessandro crawled over top of Madison, making the cover as the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

VASSA: ”Close but no cigar!”

JOHNSON: ”After a devastating headbutt, Alessandro was only able to manage a two count with his efforts.”

VASSA: ”I’m rather impressed with Alessandro’s performance so far. He’s been on quite a tear since signing with 4CW and so far in his biggest challenge to date, he’s holding his own very well.”

JOHNSON: ”He is a former World Heavyweight Champion coming from…”

Silence then filled the air as Johnson stopped in mid-sentence.

VASSA: ”Coming from where?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sorry. I just couldn’t finish saying that nonsense. You know where.”

VASSA: ”The land of changed results and let’s talk! I love that place!”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t forget about the voodoo doctors and unlimited supply of funds.”

VASSA: ”That’s it, I quit. I’m going over there to get paid and hate myself for the rest of my life.”

Pushing himself up to all fours, Alessandro begins to rub his forehead after feeling the effects himself. If he’s hurting, just imagine how badly Madison is feeling after being on the receiving end of that signature Quagliaterre fivehead attack. Standing to his feet, Alessandro back steps to the ropes before bouncing off and coming back with a knee drop to Madison’s shoulder. Pulling him to his feet, he then lifts him onto his shoulders. Looking up at the lights, Madison knows what this is after studying Alessandro’s moveset. Squirming, he tries to break free before Alessandro can lock in the torture rack. The squirming from above causes Alessandro to lose his balance as he stumbles sideways to the corner. As they get close, Madison presses his foot against the top turnbuckle before pushing them away from it. The momentum is just enough for Madison to spin out of Alessandro’s torture rack attempt, countering with a reverse bulldog as they go down to the mat.

Alessandro takes the majority of the impact but Madison lays beside him, still feeling the effects from earlier. With both men down, the official then begins the ten count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

The two begin to show signs of life as they roll in opposite directions to their stomachs.

“Six! … Seven!”

Pushing themselves up, Alessandro falls back down to the mat as Madison presses on.

“Eight! … Nine!”

As the official begins to motion his hand for the match ending ten count, Madison finally stands to his feet. Winded, he takes a short moment to regain his breath and energy before looking ahead at Alessandro slowly beginning to rise up as well. Moving in, Madison kicks Alessandro in the side of the knee, keeping him somewhat down. Out of nowhere, Alessandro bursts forward, wrapping Madison around the waist while keeping his head low. He drives Madison backwards across the ring until slamming his back into the corner. As soon as Madison’s back hits the corner, he begins pushing forward, taking a few steps before popping his knee up and driving it into Alessandro’s chest, lifting him off his feet in the process. Madison then kicks his knee up a second time, only to have it caught in Alessandro’s arms. Lifting Madison up, Alessandro throws Madison back, sending him falling into the corner. Standing straight up, Alessandro lunges towards the cornered Madison. Jumping forward, Madison grabs Alessandro’s head as he closes in, forcing his head down and slamming him face first onto his knee with a facebreaker. Alessandro’s head bounces off Madison’s knee, standing him straight up as he takes a few steps backwards looking up at the lights. Rushing forward, Madison leaps, hooking his arm across Alessandro’s throat and wiping him out with a vicious clothesline that flips him in mid air.

JOHNSON: ”Alessandro may need to see a chiropractor for an adjustment tomorrow after that clothesline.”

VASSA: ”You see that flip though?! Madison knocked him completely off his feet and into full orbit.”

On his stomach, Alessandro remains down, barely showing any signs of life. Beside him, Madison leans up to a seated position before rolling Alessandro over to his back. Laying over him, he hooks his leg as the official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON: ”Alessandro gets a shoulder up after two!”

VASSA: ”As big as his head is, I’d bet it’s twice as hard. How is Madison’s knee not shattered?”

JOHNSON: ”His head isn’t even that big.”

VASSA: ”I know it’s hard to see clearly with those eyes that have seen the last one hundred years but trust me. His head is freaking huge!”

Instead of rising to his feet, Madison hooks Alessandro’s head and leg again, and goes right back to driving multiple knees into his midsection relentlessly. With Alessandro severely winded, Madison pushes himself up and without giving Alessandro a single second to catch his breath, he pulls him to his feet as well. Locking onto Alessandro’s arm, Madison goes to whip him to the ropes but instead, Alessandro reverses and sends him racing to them instead. Bouncing off the ropes, Madison takes a few steps before jumping forward, headed straight for Alessandro for a Lou Thesz Press. With Madison closing in, Alessandro readies himself, catching Madison in mid air and countering by driving him into the mat with a powerslam. Popping up to his feet, Alessandro begins punching himself in the head, psyching himself up after the big momentum shifting move.

Backing up to the ropes, he bounces off of them before coming back and dropkicking Madison in the head as he remains down on the mat. Alessandro then mounts himself on top of Madison before unloading with rapid fire right hands, hitting Madison over and over with ease. The punches are thrown harder and harder as each one connects. With Madison’s head down, Alessandro draws back and goes to end his night with a power punch. As he swings down, Madison jerks his head to the side, causing Alessandro’s fist to slam against the mat. Madison then swings his arm to the side, hitting Alessandro’s planted arm and taking it out from under him. Alessandro falls face first into the mat, allowing Madison to squirm away from him before pushing himself back to his feet. He wasn’t alone though, as Alessandro has pushed himself up as well. Alessandro takes a swing at Madison, only to get pulled in by his arm instead. Wrapping Alessandro up, Madison then drives him backwards while locking in a muay thai clinch. With Alessandro pressed against the ropes, Madison then begins firing away with rapid knee strikes to his body.

Pulling Alessandro away from the ropes, Madison lifts him up and launches him into the air, throwing him to the center of the ring. Alessandro squirms to get to his feet, but as he rises to one knee, Madison is right there to greet him with a running knee to the face, dropping him flat on his back. Alessandro slams his fists against the mat before pushing himself up but again, Madison is right there and this time he grabs ahold of him, assisting with getting him to his feet. Holding Alessandro’s head down, Madison goes to his MMA background and begins slamming more knees into Alessandro’s face. Catching a break, Alessandro is able to swat one away, allowing him to step behind Madison, hooking his arm around his waist as he does so. With both arms wrapped around Madison’s waist, he tries to lock his hands but is met with an elbow to the mouth as Madison throws his arm back. Spinning around, Madison finds himself behind Alessandro instead. He wraps him up from behind and then slams his feet to the mat as he bursts with energy, lifting Alessandro off his feet. He goes for a German suplex, but instead, somehow miraculously, Alessandro manages to roll out of his arms, dropping down to his feet behind Madison as Madison hits the mat empty handed.

JOHNSON: ”We have a live one on our hands folks!”

VASSA: ”Madison just put a beating on Alessandro but somehow, Alessandro is the one on his feet right now.”

JOHNSON: ”Reverse after counter after reverse and so forth. This is the stuff that I live for!”

Madison quickly rolls over and pushes himself up as Alessandro runs to the ropes. Just as Madison gets up to one knee, Alessandro is right there. Lowering his head while in motion, Alessandro drives it straight into Madison’s head, hitting him with a running knockout headbutt and leveling him right then and there.

VASSA: ”THE FIVEHEAD!!!”

JOHNSON: ”NO! hat’s his wife-or ex-wife! That right there was the Zidane Headbutt!”

VASSA: ”And out of nowhere! Madison didn’t even see it coming!”

With Madison laid out on his back, Alessandro drops to his knees beside him before making the cover.

ONE

VASSA: ”One!”

.

.

TWO

VASSA: ”Two!”

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”THREE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

VASSA: ”WHAT?!?!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know how he managed to do that but somehow, some way, Madison just kicked out right before the three!”

VASSA: ”We already had so many close calls with the opening match. I don’t know how much more my heart can take.”

Feeling the effects from that headbutt himself, Alessandro slowly rises to his feet, in sort of a daze and more than likely seeing doubles, maybe even triples. Aiming for the Madison in the middle, Alessandro reaches down, and actually manages to grab the right one before pulling him up to his feet. Lifting Madison onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, Alessandro holds him up for a moment but is clearly off balance as he wobbles back and forth, still feeling the effects given to himself by his own headbutt moments earlier. He then lifts Madison up into the air, throwing him off and as Madison’s body descends, Alessandro hits him with a knee lift directly to the face – laying Madison out and falling to the mat himself.

JOHNSON: ”BEDTIME!!!”

VASSA: ”It’s fucking nighty night for both of them!”

With both men laid out on the mat, the official has no choice but to begin the ten count.

“One! … Two!”

JOHNSON: ”Alessandro was able to put Madison down but I think he may have hurt himself just a tad too bit with that running headbutt.”

“Three! … Four!”

VASSA: ”Come on guys, one of you has to do something here! Either Alessandro make the cover or Madison. They’ve both come back out of nowhere when we’ve seen them down and out of it earlier tonight.”

“Five! … Six!”

Suddenly, Alessandro begins to stir, showing signs of life. He rolls over to his stomach as the official continues counting.

JOHNSON: ”Only four seconds to get over and make the cover.”

VASSA: ”He could also stand, whichever may be easier.”

“Seven! … Eight!”

Crawling across the ring, Alessandro keeps his head up, eyes locked on Madison still down and not far away.

“Nine!”

Finally reaching Madison, Alessandro extends his arm as far as he can, laying it across Madison’s chest and ending the officials ten count. Like a machine, The official pulls his hand down and then drops to his knees, beginning a new count as Alessandro has Madison covered for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Alejandro won it!”

JOHNSON: ”I think you mean Alessandro, and yes he did win it!”

VASSA: ”Alejandro… Alessandro… FUCKING QUAGMIRE!!! HE JUST SCORED A HUGE WIN OVER MADISON, THE CHRIS MADISON!!!”

JOHNSON: ”An impressive win nonetheless and one that should skyrocket his value here in 4CW.”

VASSA: ”He’s undefeated thus far and if this didn’t prove him to be a legit force to be reckoned with in 4CW, I don’t know what to tell you.”

JOHNSON: ”WAIT A DAMN SECOND!!!”

The camera changes angles and in the center of focus is nothing other than Madison’s foot propped up on the bottom rope.

VASSA: ”What?!”

JOHNSON: ”Madison’s foot was on the bottom rope! That pin never counted!”

Barely hanging on, Madison’s foot rests on the rope, out of the officials view. As the official pushes himself away from the two, he bumps into Madison’s leg, knocking his foot down from the rope and onto the mat.

VASSA: ”Holy shit! You’re right and the official didn’t even see it!”

JOHNSON: ”Wait a damn second, hold up now! This match must continue!”

VASSA: ”He didn’t see it though. What can he do now that it isn’t on the rope?”

“Disturbia” hits the speakers as the official kneels beside Alessandro who is completely out of it as well as Madison underneath. Grabbing Alessandro’s hand, the official then raises it into the air, declaring him the victor of a testing match between both me and Madison.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner… ALESSANDRO QQUUAAGGLLIIAATTEERRRREE!!!”

A minute or so passes before both men begin coming to their senses. As they stand to their feet, Madison ignores Alessandro standing not far from him. Instead, he directs his attention to the official. Closing in on the official, Madison begins to plead his case, pointing to the rope and then to his foot.

VASSA: ”Too bad this isn’t the NFL where they have a reviews.”

JOHNSON: ”That would really help here.”

After arguing and arguing, Madison finally grows frustrated and throws a right, connecting to the officials head and sending him through the ropes to the outside floor.

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”OH COME ON!!!”

Alessandro races past him, sliding underneath the ropes and exiting the ring where he then checks on the official. Looking on from the inside of the ring, Madison appears frustrated as he places his hands on his hips and just shakes his head at the sight below.

VASSA: ”Someone get some assistance down here at ringside. We might need a stretcher!”

JOHNSON: ”Attacking an official because of a disagreement? You should be ashamed of yourself Chris! This isn’t going to go over well for him and management.”

The Adrenaline feed cuts to a close-up of a worn picture of Amber Ryan and her beloved half-sister. Recently, Ryan claimed that this picture was a highly significant source of motivation for her to fight with all of her heart each and every single time she stepped into the ring, especially when it came to higher profile or more dangerous matches. The photograph details one of the very few moments wrestling fans and friends of hers alike would ever get to see her genuinely smile without it being rooted in sarcasm or mockery.

After several seconds of focusing on the former 4CW Pride Champion beaming with her half-sister, the already tattered polaroid “The Distorted Angel” always carried loose in her gym bag is suddenly folded and crunched, before it disappears from sight altogether, enveloped by a black leather gloved hand. It was someone else’s treasure now.

A bag containing a change of clothes and a flask is quickly zipped and gently placed beside a small row of lockers, where the camera feed remains focused. The sound of footsteps fade almost as quickly as they could be heard.

? ? ?: “Didn’t tell me it’d be that easy to kill the bitch.”

The muttering voice was barely audible against the creaks of a closing door, as the scene fades and Adrenaline fires onward.

At first the only thing you can hear is a sigh of relief or rather disgust in this instance. You can see the setting as a line of Portable Toilets better know as Port-A-Potties are seen outside of the Smoothie King Center. Parked next to them was a Black with yellow trimmed Short Bus.

Cyrus Riddle steps into the picture. Being the one who sighed knowing in his head the events that happened last time he was near a Jason Cashe owned Short Bus. His approach grew as he picked up his pace. Hesitating with another sigh before he taps on the doors. A squealing bark is faintly heard from inside and it had Cyrus a bit confused as he stood waiting.

CASHE: “Yeah? Who it be? Hold up..”

The rambling clutter inside wasn’t a surprise. Most likely Cashe had spent a lot more time living in the Bus than ever before. He was damn near living paycheck to paycheck and was trying to keep his focus not on wealth but his career. The doors are ripped open with the pull of a lever and Riddle sees Cashe but jumps back as something rushes at him down the few stairs in the entryway.

RIDDLE: “Fuckinell! What is that Cashe?”

CASHE: “Umm clearly that’s a guard dog…”

But it wasn’t a dog. Not in the slightest.

RIDDLE: “That is a pig Cashe not a dog. Why do you have a pig?”

CASHE: “Why don’t you?”

Making a ticking sound with his mouth, Cashe calls the pig. It had some size to it and a horrible snout to boot but he was still but a baby. Waddling back into the bus, Cashe nods and greets Riddle properly.

CASHE: “Whats up though? Psyche isn’t here..”

The look on Riddle’s face was dropped in a “you srrious bro” type stare. The dry sense of humor Cashe was often never greatly funny but it made him giggle. Then Riddle turned his attention to a sign in the bus window. He reads it out loud but as if it was a question.

RIDDLE: “No Riddles Allowed?”

CASHE: “Ohh that? Heh.. Obvious aint it? Ignore that. Rules change. Come on it..”

RIDDLE: “Kind of weird me being back on your Short Bus, mind if I smoke?”

Already going to spark up, Riddle lights his lighter and Cashe goes into action. Grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher.

RIDDLE: “Whoa! What the fuck man?”

CASHE: “Last time you made fire on my bus, I lost a bus.”

Removing the joint from his mouth, Riddle shows it to Cashe.

RIDDLE: “I was just trying to puff, puff, pass for old times sake…”

The idea was solid. Cashe enjoyed a good smoke but he had a match tonight. A main event match tonight and that for as long as he can remember was when he stayed sober. Shrugging he thought maybe it was okay to live a little.

CASHE: “Well it’s not a Title match or anything.. Note to self, ask Staff for a title shot soon. I just returned and all so I’m due right?”

RIDDLE: “So about this text I got..”

Ignoring the subtle shot at claims against Cashe. Riddle changes the subject as he goes to light the joint. Puffing twice, he passes it as you do in these situations.

CASHE: “I got one too. I was told I would be visited by a past pain.. So since it’s you I now know they meant pain in the ass. What did yours say?”

RIDDLE: “Ummm.. Mine said come see me. You sent it? Are you still mad at me? Seems like you’re still a little mad about everything..”

Exhailing his inhale, Cashe passes it back to Riddle. The pig sniffing around trying to find scraps as pigs often do. Snorting as it moves along the floor.

CASHE: Me? Nah I am good. I just like fucking with people if you haven’t notice. Its innocent jabs man, we good as gold.”

RIDDLE: ”Okay so the text? We doing this tonight? People will hate this shit!”

CASHE: “There is always reason to hate but as 50 once said. If they hate then let them hate and watch the money pile up..”

RIDDLE: “Exactly!”

CASHE: ”Who knows.. Maybe we can play strip high five again!”

Cyrus Riddle smirks as he holds in a lung full. His face drops as he slightly shakes it from side to side. Smoke slowly flows out so he can reply, still with a smirk and a laugh to his voice.

RIDDLE: “Let’s take things slow.. Let’s not rush to get naked already huh?”

CASHE: “I like being nude. Such freedom for the danglers ya know?”

Holding the joint up, Riddle looks at it. Questioning so many things right now and offers what is left of it to Cashe.

RIDDLE: “Take this. Let’s get ready for the night and we will talk more after, yeah?”

Cashe grabs it but reaches off towards his little table and grabs a box of Uncrustables. He offers Riddle one.

CASHE: “Want a few for the road? I received them from a mutual friend of ours…”

Riddle knows who but doesn’t say her name. Does he really need too? He plucks out a few and nods to show thanks as he turns away to leave.

CASHE: “Oh hey! Thank you for not burning down my bus this time. It and I appreciate it.. See you Good Folks later tonight!”

Shaking his head he gives Cashe another smirk. What exactly were they agreeing too? Alliance? A match like Cashe had went to see Aidan for the last show? So many things left unanswered and many would have their guesses. As Riddle leaves and the doors close behind him, Cashe turns to the cameras and waves. A familiar sight from before the show even started but he said nothing more.

UNDERCARD
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
NO HOLDS BARRED

AIDAN CARLISLE VS. NURSE KINSLEY VS. AMBER RYAN

POWERS: “The following contest is set for one fall, and is a triple threat No Holds Barred match! Introducing first, coming to the ring from Hell’s Kitchen, New York…”

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: “Weighing in at one hundred forty-five pounds… She is the ‘Alpha Bitch’, AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

“In this world only the strong will survive

Hear the roar and you will know you’re alive

Feel the energy build in your soul

‘Cause it’s time

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

“Oh, In the calm before the storm

Another legend will be born

Another battle will be won

We will rise

Oh, So heed the call of confrontation

Today we feed on domination

Secure a legacy that will never die

Be immortalized”

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

POWERS: “Coming to the ring next, weighing one hundred thirty pounds…”

The lights dim, with rare flashes of red, as “Your Weakness Gives Me Life” by Le Butcherettes begins to play. Nurse Kinsley drags herself down the entry ramp, stumbling and staring off into space. Occasionally she stops, looking out into the crowd with a head tilt or a focused gaze, but then continues wandering toward the ring with no incident.

POWERS: “From Shaker Heights, Ohio… NURSE KKIINNSSLLEEYY!!!”

Kinsley slides beneath the bottom rope, crawling toward the nearest turnbuckle. She slumps into the corner, eyes wide and wandering, her expression vacant. She sits like this for several seconds before grabbing the middle ropes and hoisting herself to her feet.

POWERS: “And their opponent…”

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.

POWERS: “Hailing from Atlantic City, New Jersey, weighing in at one hundred and forty-two pounds…”

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: “She is, the ‘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 recieve 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.

“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.

“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.

JOHNSON: “Well, this match is bound to be a war. These three women are some of the toughest competitors that Four Corners Wrestling has to offer, and Perry Wallace has given them the go-ahead to throw out the rules.”

VASSA: “Do you think someone will break an arm this time?”

JOHNSON: “I certainly hope not, but I’m not about to discount it. If words were weapons, I’m not sure any of them would even have made it to the ring. They’ve all had plenty to say over the past few weeks, and now it’s time for that to come to fruition.”

VASSA: “I’ve got five bucks in my pocket, Steve. Care to make a wager over who bleeds first?”

JOHNSON: “No, Vinnie.”

The referee checks with all three women in their respective corners. Aidan, Amber, and Kinsley all give a nod of affirmation in turn. Once the official is satisfied, he signals for the bell to begin the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

Practically before the bell is finished ringing, Amber Ryan and Nurse Kinsley stalk out of their corners, straight at one another. They meet in the middle of the ring with simultaneous, vicious forearm strikes and immediately begin trading blows back and forth. Every shot seems harder than the last, and neither woman gives an inch.

The two are so wrapped up fighting one another, that they seem to have forgotten about the third competitor in the match. Aidan, who has just watched thus far, smirks and hops straight up onto the top turnbuckle. Kinsley and Ryan look up just in time to be leveled by a flying crossbody! Aidan rolls through to her feet and Amber is the first up to face her!

Ryan throws a jab, but Aidan ducks and whips Amber to the canvas with a snapmare! Before she can capitalize Nurse Kinsley grabs Aidan’s arm and spins her around, right into a front dropkick! Carlisle rolls back over her shoulder to a crouch, but Ryan is already on her feet and nails Kinsley in the face with a Yakuza kick!

VASSA: “Boom baby, boom!”

JOHNSON: “We are off to a lightning-quick start here so far. All three of these women have to have eyes in the back of their heads. No one can give either of the others a second to breathe. This was what Amber Ryan meant when she said there were too many variables.”

VASSA: “Don’t start with the Bill Nye, Steve. I just want to see some blood!”

Amber barely gets both feet back on the mat before Aidan plows into her with a spear that folds her in half and takes her to the canvas! Carlisle immediately launches into a barrage of forearm strikes and elbows! Amber does her best to shield her face as the crowd counts along with the strikes.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

The count is cut short as Kinsley goes for a roundhouse and Aidan is forced to roll off of Amber to avoid it. However, Amber catches Kinsley’s leg and takes her down with a dragon screw! Ryan mounts up for a ground and pound of her own, and the crowd picks up counting where it left off!

“Six! … Seven! … Eight! … Nine! … Ten!”

Amber stands and yanks Kinsley to her feet with a fistful of hair, but Kinsley quickly breaks free! Harlow throws Amber off guard with a throat thrust, and then hammers her back into the turnbuckle with a flurry of elbow strikes! Before Amber can recover Kinsley throws her leg up and presses her boot across Ryan’s throat! She grabs the ropes for extra leverage and grinds in the choke!

Aidan appears behind Kinsley, grabbing both of her shoulders, and hopping up to drive her knees into the other woman’s spine with a backstabber as she falls back to the canvas! Kinsley rolls across the mat holding her back, but Aidan stalks after. As soon as Kinsley starts to get to her hands and knees, Aidan leaps up into the air and drives her face-first back into the canvas with a curbstomp!

JOHNSON: “A costly mistake as Nurse Kinsley forgot about Aidan Carlisle.”

VASSA: “Only a fool thinks they can forget about Aidan!”

JOHNSON: “I can’t say I think it would be wise to forget about an any of these three. Case in point…”

Amber Ryan spins Aidan around from behind and slings her away from Kinsley with an arm drag! Carlisle, however, uses the momentum to throw herself onto her hands, rebound off the ropes, and come back with handspring back elbow right to the back of Amber’s head! The interruption gives Kinsley just enough time to get back to her feet and catch Aidan with a sit-out shiranui!

JOHNSON: “Sobredosis from Nurse Kinsley!”

VASSA: “What the hell did you even just say?!”

Kinsley quickly drops scrambles over Aidan to makes the cover. The referee slides in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Amber Ryan grabs both of Kinsley’s legs and yanks her off of Aidan!!! Kinsley turns over quickly and gives Amber a stiff boot to the face before rolling out of the ring. Aidan is back on her feet and wastes no time hitting a knee drop into Amber’s chest. Amber wisely rolls away, and out of the ring as well. Kinsley is already there with a chair in hand and swings with all her strength at Amber, who just barely ducks in time! The chair hits the ringpost with a thunderous sound, bending as steel meets steel.

CRACK!!!

JOHNSON: “My god! That would have taken Amber’s head off!”

VASSA: “Why did she have to miss?!”

JOHNSON: “That’s awful, Vinnie!”

VASSA: “I know what I am!”

While Kinsley is still shaken from the force of the impact, Amber sends a boot into her gut, which forces her to drop the chair. Ryan blasts Kinsley back into a standing position with a huge European uppercut, and then reaches back over her own shoulder to grab Kinsley by the head. The crowd explodes with cheers as Amber drills Kinsley right into the chair with a snapmare driver!

Just as Amber stands, Aidan sails over the top rope with a suicide dive that crushes Amber back into the ringside barricade! Carlisle is quick to stand and start putting boots to Amber. Somehow, Nurse Kinsley is getting back to her feet, a trickle of blood running down her forehead. Aidan grabs Amber’s arm and yanks her from the ground, whipping her toward the apron. BUT KINSLEY IS THERE! Harlow catches Amber with a jumping DDT… onto the chair!!!

Harlow never stops moving, racing right toward Aidan for a swinging neckbreaker! Kinsley gives a high pitched scream as she jumps as high as she can, landing a double foot stomp to Aidan’s chest! Aidan rolls away, trying to catch her breath. Amber is back on her feet and crabs Kinsley by the hair and the back of her ring gear, throwing her back into the ring under the bottom rope.

Both women are on their feet in an instant. Ryan grabs Kinsley by the arm and whips her to the ropes, but Kinsley does a quick handstand and flies back with an enziguri! Amber stumbles back into the opposite ropes. Kinsley charges, but Amber counters with a tilt-a-whirl headscissor takedown! Ryan gives a quick check to the outside before she goes for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Nurse Kinsley has kicked out! The match is still going!”

VASSA: “Thank god, there’s not nearly enough blood!”

Harlow looks a little dizzy as she stands, steps wobbly. Amber looks to capitalize on the opportunity, going to scoop Kinsley off of her feet, but Kinsley throws a knee into her face! Harlow cackles gleefully as she leaps into the air and comes down with a falling scissor kick that takes both women to the canvas. Ryan gets back to her feet, but only for a second before Nurse Kinsley fires off a jumping Yakuza kick.

Kinsley’s demented giggling crescendos as she steps toward Amber, who has dropped down to her knees after the blow. Kinsley closes the gap between them, reaching down to get a handful of Amber’s hair… before shrieking and recoiling, clutching her face after Amber spits a mouthful of tacks at her! Harlow reels back into the corner, dropping to a sitting position and rubbing at her face.

Amber, meanwhile, has “reloaded” for her second opponent. Ryan pushes up from the crouch and turns RIGHT INTO A SHUFFLE SIDE KICK TO THE FACE FROM AIDAN!!! The mouthful of tacks, and now blood, sprays across the ring and Amber is left trying to spit the rest out as Aidan, who now has a length of chain wrapped around her right hand and arm, grabs the back of her ring gear. Carlisle throws a pair of vicious knees up into Amber’s ribs before scooping her off of her feet for a pendulum backbreaker!

Kinsley surges out of her corner as she sees an opening, but Aidan drives her chain-covered fist right into Harlow’s face! Blood starts to run down Kinsley’s chin beneath her mask. Carlisle wraps the chain twice around Harlow’s throat, holding an end in each hand, before grabbing both of the other woman’s wrists, crossing them over her throat, and twisting around… hitting a straight jacket neckbreaker with the chain still around her throat!!!

VASSA: “I am so hard right now!”

JOHNSON: “Vinnie! That’s disgusting!”

VASSA: “Admit it, you’re just as turned on by this threeway as I am!”

JOHNSON: “I am impressed by the tenacity and resilience that Amber, Aidan, and Harlow are showing, Vinnie, but that’s it!”

For a split second Aidan looks as though she’s going to go for the pin, but then she catches Amber Ryan stirring from the corner of her eye. She leaves Kinsley in a heap and stalks across the ring toward Amber, who spits out a last mouthful of blood before straightening. Carlisle whips Ryan to the ropes, Amber rebounds hard and comes back with an unexpected clothesline!

Before Aidan can get vertical again, Amber hits a picture perfect moonsault double foot stomp! Once again Aidan is left clutching her chest and gasping for breath as she rolls across the ring to create some separation. Carlisle uses the ropes to pull herself up just as Ryan charges. Amber hits Aidan at full tilt, and they both go tumbling over the top rope to the ground below! The two tumble across the floor, trading lefts and rights until they collide with the ring steps.

Amber presses a boot across Aidan’s throat, pinning her up against the stairs while grabbing both arms to pull her into the choke! Aidan manages to edge a foot under one of Amber’s arms and break the hold so she can get a hand on the foot at her throat. She throws a foot into Amber’s ribs for good measure, and then wrenches her other hand free, wrapping up Amber’s legs almost as if she’s about to lock Ryan into a cloverleaf submission!

Instead, she deadlifts Amber up from the ground, all the way up into position to powerbomb her onto the steel stairs! Amber tumbles off the other side of the steps and Aidan smirks, but only for a second before Nurse Kinsley baseball slides under the bottom rope and hooks her legs around Aidan’s neck for a headscissor takedown onto the chair that had been abandoned there earlier!

JOHNSON: “The old adage ‘no rest for the wicked’ has never been more true than it is right now! None of these three can get a second to breathe. As soon as they get one opponent down, the other is back on their feet!”

VASSA: “Now they just need to get violent!”

JOHNSON: “What do you think they’ve been doing so far?!”

VASSA: “Warming up.”

Kinsley is on her feet first, giving a cursory glance to Amber before hauling Aidan up. Kinsley fires off a slingshot backbreaker that leaves Aidan holding her spine as she tumbles across the floor outside the ring. Amber has started digging under the ring, but Kinsley is too occupied to notice as she stalks after Aidan.

From god knows where, Kinsley has produced a taser! She stands over Aidan before jamming the prongs into her exposed side! Aidan snarls in pain, twisting as the electricity jolts through her. Kinsley hauls back, and thrusts the taser at Carlisle again, but Aidan catches her wrist! She begins to pry the device away, but suddenly Kinsley is jerked away and spun around by Amber Ryan!

Amber swings the now-useless chair right into Kinsley’s leg, and Harlow drops to a knee. Amber gets a running start and hits a hurricanrana driver… drilling Kinsley’s face into the pile of tacks she had just poured out onto the floor! The tacks scatter everywhere as Kinsley rolls away clutching her face. Amber looks pleased with herself, but only for an instant before she realizes Aidan is behind her, a new weapon in hand.

CRACK!!!

In one brutal blow the kendo stick splinters across Amber’s back. Aidan tosses it aside and steps back, watching for the right moment. Amber turns, and Aidan hits a running high knee! Ryan’s head snaps back and she collides with the apron, sagging to the floor. Carlisle steps over her and stalks after Kinsley, who is still trying to get the tacks out of her face.

JOHNSON: “Oh no.”

VASSA: “Oh yes!”

JOHNSON: “Don’t do it Aidan, you’re better than that!”

VASSA: “She’s already said she’s not nice, remember!”

Kinsley’s eyes go wide as Aidan grabs her hair and jerks her head back, jamming the taser under her chin! Carlisle doesn’t hold on for long, though, as Kinsley’s scream is interrupted by a shattering sound when Amber Ryan swings a light tube into Aidan’s back! A hundred tiny cuts start to bleed as the little shards of glass are left embedded in Aidan’s exposed skin. Ryan throws Aidan back into the ring under the bottom rope, and rolls in after.

Aidan is starting to get to her feet on her own when Amber delivers a brutal kick to the side. Ryan circles around, looking for another kick, but Aidan gets a hand on the chain she had dropped earlier! She throws it around Amber’s neck and uses it to whip her over her shoulder with a snap mare!

Aidan tries to wrap the chain around Amber’s throat, but Ryan thinks fast and hits a jawbreaker than leaves Aidan staggering. Amber keeps on it, throwing a boot into Aidan’s gut. Ryan locks up both of Aidan’s arms… before hitting the Original Sin! She just manages to roll over and throw an arm across Aidan afterward. The official is there in a flash for the pin.

JOHNSON: “This could be it!”

VASSA: “No! No! Please not yet!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Nurse Kinsley pulls Amber off of Aidan well before the three! Harlow wastes no time, dragging Amber to her feet and halfway across the ring. Throwing an arm across Ryan’s collar, Kinsley hits a reverse STO… right into an exposed turnbuckle she had taken the padding off of! Amber hits the mat, blood pouring from a cut on her forehead. Kinsley shoves her away from the ropes and drops to make a pin of her own!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Somehow, Amber Ryan gets the shoulder up before the three! Nurse Kinsley looks shocked, and then furious! Before she can do anything about it, Aidan catches her right on the side of the head with a spinning hook kick! Kinsley tumbles off of Amber, and Aidan follows, yanking her up and smashing her face into the exposed turnbuckle.

Aidan goes to smash her face into the turnbuckle again, but Kinsley manages to stop herself! She gets a fistful of Aidan’s hair and returns the favor, leaving blood running down Aidan’s face from the impact! Before Kinsley can attempt it a second time, Aidan throws a back elbow into her face.

The force spins Harlow around… to where Amber Ryan is waiting with the mangled chair! Kinsley think fast and kicks the chair back into Amber’s face! Ryan’s nose begins to gush blood, but she doesn’t let go. She swings the chair as hard as she can into Kinsley’s back. Harlow howls in pain, but just barely manages to stay on her feet. The effects of the match are beginning to show, and Amber Ryan sways on her feet before dropping to a knee.

Kinsley sees Aidan Carlisle beginning to stand and zeroes in. She comes off the ropes she had caught herself on like a freight train, looking for the world’s biggest clothesline, with a landing zone made of steel chair! Kinsley’s arm collides with Aidan’s. Aidan’s feet leave the ground from the force… but she twists her body up and around, using the arm as an anchor! Her legs hook Kinsley’s head and she hits the floatover piledriver onto the chair!!!

JOHNSON: “Litost! Litost from Aidan to Nurse Kinsley!”

Aidan rolls across Kinsley to hook the leg, laying on top of her opponent in the process. For good measure she throws a hand on Kinsley’s throat and bridges up! The referee slides in for the count!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

Amber Ryan gets there a moment too late to break up the pin and the official calls for the bell!

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

“Immortalized” hits the sound system, filling the arena along with a chorus of cheers, some of which are for Amber Ryan. The referee carefully helps Aidan to her feet, trying to avoid blood and thumbtacks in the process. Carlisle sways a little as the ref holds her hand in the air, but manages to stay on her feet. Her eyes skim across Amber for a moment, and she gives the barest little nod.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, 4CW’s ‘Alpha Bitch’… AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

JOHNSON: “There you have it, folks. All three of these women put their bodies on the line, but it’s Aidan Carlisle who is walking out the victor. I know it’s of little comfort, but neither Amber nor Nurse Kinsley should be disappointed with what they did here tonight.”

VASSA: “Even my bloodlust is almost satisfied! It smells like raw hamburger in here!”

JOHNSON: “Speaking of which… we’ll be right back after we get the canvas changed and this mess sorted out.”

VASSA: “Yeah, we need a wet cleanup here!”

Kimitsu Zombie paces around in the area right before the entrance.

ZOMBIE: “I’ve been here for a long while now. Some people may call me a bit obsessive, but this match has been up here in my head ever since i was introduced to 4CW. It was like a dream once. I only saw it in my subconscious without even realizing it. Then I got that first contract and it became a fantasy I would actively daydream about. It was wild. I knew it would never happen. Tokyo-sensei wouldn’t allow it. I was too green to deal with such darkness. Then I went to my first international show and I was shown the greater wrestling world. It is all a big network and the match became an idea. I stayed up at night sometimes wondering how I could make it happen. This idea took root when I got my freedom and they inducted me into the clan. Young and naive, Yoyo Banzai, became Kimitsu Zombie. Now it was a possibility but I wasn’t stupid. I bided my time. I needed experience. He was too much for me yet. So I went around terrorizing any company that would have me. My reputation grew and the organizations collapsed under the weight. Then I did something foolhardy. I went out one day and picked up a phone. I set up a meeting on my own and then signed that contract on my own. I joined 4CW and my family was torn. Tokyo knew what I wanted. The dream would eventually become an inevitability.”

She leans back against the wall and shakes her head.

ZOMBIE: “You cannot imagine the disappointment that I felt when my dream became nothing but a blood splattered wall. My match with the Dakota Smith I dreamt about is gone. The man he is now believes that he can be just as good. He believes that he has it in him to even surpass his better self. No. What I saw after his title match was a look of defeat. It was complete and utter failure. I saw it too late. Like I said, that dream has been dead a long time ago. I built myself up way beyond to what this man now can handle. Don’t believe that the records hold any weight.

“Just look at the awards from earlier. I faced off against two of the best fucking wrestlers of this company in my losing streak while all he did was kill off the worst losers. If he wants to feel important over that then he can go ahead. I’ll still be looking down on him. I won’t write him off, though. I’m going to make Dakota Smith live up to my standards, and they are lofty. I’ve been after this for my whole wrestling career and he will not deny me. If he does then he might succeed in showing me what it feels like to kill something in that ring.”

Kimitsu walks up to the entrance and takes a deep breath.

UNDERCARD
DAKOTA SMITH VS. KIMITSU ZOMBIE

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentleman, The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”

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

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

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

POWERS: ”Now, weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds and hailing from Kimitsu, Japan…. it is your FORMER 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 climbs a turnbuckle bobbing to the music.

VASSA: ”Ohhhh man, Kimitsu looks ready tonight! She’s about to beat on Dakota until the rest of his shell comes off.”

JOHNSON: ”Shell?? What is he, a turtle? And don’t be so quick to count Dakota out yet, regardless if he’s the Butcher or not, you can’t sit here and discredit all he has accomplished.”

VASSA: ”Not my problem he went from a former 4CW Champion who probably washed himself at night in virgin blood to being someone’s househusband and playing Stepford Stepdaddy.”

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

She takes a long chug of shochu and screams in satisfaction with her tongue out. She jumps down into the ring to wait while sipping from her shochu bottle as Dakota’s theme overlays hers.

“Blood underneath my nails, I think I’m losing it

Dead hooker to my left, an upside down crucifix

Get my fix from fucking dead hoes and these opiates

Killin’ ’em all, I’ll never fall

I get a rush from stalking bad bitches

Collecting teeth and fingernails to add to my shrine

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

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

POWERS: ”Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred and forty pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is the former 4CW and Extreme Champion, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”You have to give it to Dakota, a man who continues going no matter what… you can kill the Butcher but you can’t kill Dakota Smith, a man who can shed a skin and still be a threat to you in the ring.”

VASSA: ”You smell that, Stevie? It’s the smell of stale christmas cookies and hot cocoa. Can’t believe Dakota went from smelling like burning flesh to holiday spirit, this is just sickening.”

Rolling in under the bottom rope Dakota plants his fists into the mat and pushes himself, the deranged almost animalistic snarl still firmly on his face. The butcher stalks back and forth in the ring, peering out into the audience once again until it sickens him. He jerks his face away from the audience and stares down the ref for a few moments, a devilish smile forming on his lips as he intimidates the official. A few soft chuckles slip out of Dakota as he slowly slinks back into his corner, his tongue slipping out of from behind his lips as he takes a seat in said corner while Kimitsu keeps her eyes trained on him, refusing to let him out of her sight. Dakota chuckles in heavy amusement while Kimitsu appears to not be afraid of the man she is set to face tonight, already with enough tricks up her sleeve that should guarantee her victory tonight. But as Dakota stands to take that first step towards her, his eyes tell it all that he will show the world tonight that he doesn’t need monikers to remain everyone’s worst nightmare. That tonight, Kimitsu falling on her back and receiving the loss will be him reminding the world why he is the man to be feared.

DING!!! DING!!!

The two circle around the ring as they stalk one another, both wanting to come in strong in this match with the upper hand as Dakota finally speeds towards Kimitsu and is dealt an elbow to the face that stops him for just a moment but not long enough for Dakota to attack with a heavy backhand to the face, causing Kimitsu to fall back on the mat.

VASSA: ”Damnnnn Dakota just pimp slapped Kimitsu, think he’s had enough of her already. Did you see all the shit she was saying about Dakota, acting all obsessed like one of Rob Zombie groupies? American Potter better keep a watch on his woman before Dakota kills her by baking her blueberry muffins.”

JOHNSON: ”I told you not to count him out, even if both have something to prove tonight as former Pride Champion and the contender who failed to capture the XTV Championship, Dakota is not going to be a tough one to break.”

VASSA: ”He said if there are any monsters left, it’s him but his name is not Bryan Laughlin so I dont know why that nut said that.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny, Kimitsu hit him up in the past with wanting to learn from him and get trained by him, that should tell you something.”

VASSA: ”Well what is she gonna learn from him now? How to separate clothes and fold them neatly? How to dust and use a Swifter?”

Dakota physically shows Kimitsu inside the ring how much weight his words hold as he works her over in the corner, those clubbing forearms to the chest and shoulder blocks he slams into her is him showing her no mercy and feeling that he’s giving her what she asked for since she’s acting like he’s lost his touch and his edge after the Butcher died. He doesn’t even want to make quick work of her, he wants her to suffer and to show her that he is far worse than the Butcher ever was. That the man behind the mask can be just as sinister as the thing the person becomes while wearing it. He tosses her on the mat like a rag doll as Kimitsu scurries agilely to her feet and looks out the corner of her eye for something. Dakota charges Kimitsu and she times it well as she dives out of the way, causing the poor ref to get the short end of the stick when Dakota knocks him down. Dakota is shocked but unfazed as he shrugs, turning around but doesnt realize that the real fun has finally gotten started as Kimitsu low blows him in the groin with a sharp kick that sends Dakota on his knees and holding his nether regions. A smirk plays on Kimitsu’s face as she runs to the ropes, bounces off and comes speeding back with a missile dropkick to Dakota’s face that sends him on his back onto the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu with the advantage now, seeming to want the ref out of the way so she can do things dirty.”

VASSA: ”Not sure how Dakota is even in any pain since he no longer has any balls.”

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu removing that turnbuckle cover while the ref is down and Dakota is still trying to get himself together. I hope she knows that it’s going to take more than a kick to the jewels to keep the big man down.”

The anger on Dakota’s face as he finally gets to his feet shows that he doesn’t appreciate Kimitsu going that route as she moves away from the exposed turnbuckle in hopes that he keeps his eyes on her and not on what she has done to the turnbuckle. She gets her wish though because not only are Dakota’s eyes on her, his hands are as well as he moves so fast across the ring to his prey, you would have thought he was floating as he plans to dismantle her. Chokeslam. Snap Powerbomb. Kicks into the ribs as if she’s some mangy mutt and he’s a sinister animal hating human being from how much his foot connects into her side which elicits loud howls of pain from Kimitsu. He grabs her by her hair to roughly pull her to her feet as Kimitsu quickly glances around for the referee, sees that he’s still struggling to make it onto his feet and it motivates her to stab her fingers into Dakota’s eyes that catches him off guard and makes him break his hold onto her all together and grab at his face from the deadly eye poke. His vision is blurry and it makes him claw at his eyes in anger as Kimitsu stalks him, watching him stumble around like a blind man until he unknowingly gets close enough to the bare turnbuckle and she can finally make her move. Kimitsu kicks Dakota in the gut and once he bends down, she grabs the back of his head and slams his face into the naked turnbuckle post! She does it again and again, wanting to make him bleed before he finally swings an elbow into her chest and then knocks her to the mat once his left hand swings back to get her away from him.

VASSA: ”Dakota is going to feel guilty for trying to demolish a woman tonight and is going to apologize the next time he goes to Sunday School.”

JOHNSON: ”You can joke all you want that Dakota isn’t as dangerous as he used to be but he’s proving you and any other naysayer wrong in the ring right now.”

VASSA: ”Dakota is becoming like every other man in the world… what is up with everyone trying to take care of someone else’s baby nowadays? Is something in the water? He called Kimitsu a gore whore when Dakota is about to be on crosswalk duty once he volunteers to help ‘better’ the community like every other neighborhood dad.”

JOHNSON: ”You better hope he doesn’t come after you for these comments against him. I keep telling you that Dakota can still be that same dangerous man without having to live as the Butcher.”

VASSA: ”Can’t wait for him to lecture me to death at the next PTA meeting.”

Kimitsu holds her side as she dodges a big boot from Dakota and tries to kick up the speed but the pain to her ribs is causing her to move a little slower than usual. Dakota’s forehead is busted open but it doesn’t stop him from trying to continue to annihilate Kimitsu as he eyes her hand pressing into her side and picks her up, trying to crush her with a bearhug as Kimitsu’s face contorts in pain. The ref finally stands fully onto his feet… only to get knocked back down once Dakota practically throws Kimitsu across the ring and didn’t see the referee at the time. He shrugs and doesn’t care, figuring it was the ref’s fault for being in the way as Kimitsu crawls off of the ref as the man lays on the mat, wishing this match was over and wondering what working at Jack In The Box would be like because at least he wouldn’t be in such a harmful environment. Dakota isn’t done with Kimitsu as he grabs the back of her hair and pulls her roughly towards him and tugs her head back so that she can look him in the eyes and see that he still has enough monster inside of him to go around. He lifts her into the air and she quickly begins to assault him with multiple punches to the face to loosen his grip on her which aids her in the advantage once she falls back and wraps her legs around his neck for a hurricanrana and goes directly into a pin. No sounds of a hand beating the mat are not heard and it causes Kimitsu to look around to see the ref still out of it and still trying to get himself together. Angry, she pulls herself to her feet and storms over to the ref, grabbing him by the arm to drag him towards Dakota’s body. But it’s too late because once she covers Dakota again and the ref weakly raises his hand, Dakota kicks out before the first count can even begin. Kimitsu is pissed off but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it as she begins stomping on Dakota’s body and even tries to go for a head lock but Dakota roughly shoves her away as he comes to a stand.

JOHNSON: ”Neither of the two are holding back tonight and want to get the victory over the other just as bad. I know that American Tommy and Tara Michaels are on the edge of their seats watching this match go down.”

VASSA: ”Tommy better get his ass down here to the ring and expellis stupidus Dakota before he smothers Kimitsu with his oven mitt.”

JOHNSON: ”I can imagine what we all are in for once Tara returns back to in ring action and takes her place by Dakota’s side.”

VASSA: ”Can’t wait for Rob Zombie and Sheri Moon to try to be the failed power couple of 4CW.”

Kimitsu has rolled out of the ring and disappeared out of sight before the top of her head can be seen near the apron as Dakota leans over the ropes to the outside of the ring to grab a fistful of Kimitsu’s disheveled hair. But it’s a trick as Kimitsu suddenly smashes Dakota in the face with a gasoline can! She knows she didn’t hit him hard enough to make him fall so she quickly slides into the ring and charges him as he ducks but Kimitsu doubles back and CLANK! Successfully knocks him to the mat with the can. She doesn’t stop there though and continues beating him with the can from his face all the way to his chest in a way to get him to stay down before she twists off the top and begins pouring the gasoline all over his body.

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT, THE CRAZY ASIAN IS ABOUT TO TOAST THE MARSHMALLOW MAN!”

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu is trying to be the Butcher tonight and trying to do Dakota in!”

The ref is leaning against the ropes and doesn’t even see what’s going on due to still trying to get himself together after the last attack on him while Kimitsu stares down sinisterly at Dakota, an evil grin growing across her face as she pulls out a lighter and sticks her tongue out at Dakota. She flicks the lighter… but no flame appears. Raising an eyebrow, she does it once more but to no avail and even becomes upset as she desperately flicks the lighter again for the flame but nothing is coming out. That’s just too bad because Dakota has had enough and is furious that Kimitsu actually tried to have the balls to set him on fire. Kimitsu tries to kick Dakota back down but he grabs her foot and shoves it backwards, causing her to stumble back and giving him enough room to return to his feet. Kimitsu holds onto the lighter tightly and charges Dakota but ends up staggering back from his snapping headbutt and he gets the advantage as well as his hands on her. Kimitsu tries to fight back but it’s too late because he lays the gore whore out with a GORE WHORE! He looks down at the destroyed Kimitsu and a half smile appears on his face as he yells at the ref to bring his ass on once he drops to cover Kimitsu. The poor beat down ref drags his body towards the two as he weakly hits the mat.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, DAKO–“

The bell has rung but no music plays. Rather, The Speaker is seen at the top of the stage laughing maniacally at Dakota Smith. The laughter just about filled the arena which drew the attention of Dakota. Having just about enough of this laughter Dakota was about to go after the Speaker but felt the ring bounce slightly. Turning around, Viduus Morta stood right before Dakota in the flesh. Viduus turned his head right and turned his head left staring the former Butcher in the eyes. Viduus took one step backwards and dropped down, rolling out of the ring. He never took his eyes of Dakota Smith as he walked backwards towards the crowd. He gave a small, creepy wave to Dakota as he made his way out of the arena through the crowd. Dakota turned back around to see The Speaker doing the exact same wave and walking backwards through the entryway.

JOHNSON: “Well, that certainly was strange.”

VASSA: “Strange, sure. It’s Viduus. But why didn’t one of them strike? Dakota had his chance to get revenge BUT OF COURSE THE MARSHMALLOW MAN DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”

JOHNSON: “Who knows?! Dakota is calculating and apparently Viduus is content with some mind games. This should be fun to watch the next few weeks!”

Backstage, a cameraman catches Cyrus Riddle navigating through the halls of the arena. He comes to a sudden halt as he reaches one of the wrestler’s locker rooms. Noticing the door slightly ajar, Riddle grabs the handle and knocks as he pushes the door open. An errant converse sneaker flies by the head of The Archetype as he quickly tries to gauge the situation while Amber feverishly throws items out of her path before frantically digging through the makeshift piles of clothes and odd converse sneakers.

RYAN: Fucking hell, why can’t I find it…

RIDDLE: Are you sure it’s in there? Didn’t leave it at home? The mind can wander.

Amber pauses completely unamused, red hair messier than usual and frustration written across her features as though her night hadn’t already been difficult enough.

RYAN: Funny fucker as always. With friends like you, who needs enemies right?

Riddle winks, affirming her statement. Clearly a spectator to her search, he stood as she continues.

RYAN: Don’t need that many friends anyway I suppose- between you being you and whatever the fuck is wrong with Boston…

Resignedly Amber drops onto the bench, hair falling back in her face.

RIDDLE: The DSM manual probably has difficulty pinpointing Boston. He’s… well… he’s different.

She manages a half hearted chuckle, forcing it up instead of the vitriol she likely had poised.

RYAN: Yeah, don’t worry I’m very much aware of that. Spent enough time with him in New Mexico to catch the drift… Now are you gonna help me or continue standing there looking stupid?

Cyrus looks around for a moment, then back to Amber with a feigned look of offense.

RIDDLE: I’ll have you know, I never look stupid in any circumstance. Intelligence weaves itself into my every thought, word, and action.

RYAN: Yeah, promo time is over darl. Maybe save that shit for someone who might believe it?

Idly kicking a shoe out of the way, Amber’s frustration simmers furiously.

RIDDLE: I did, that’s why you were just informed. Like you didn’t already know. And by the way, sitting there letting yourself bottle up anger isn’t going to find what’s lost.

RYAN: I don’t just lose shit though, hell you know that better than anyone else… I don’t misplace things. Ever.

Temper rising, Amber returns to her scrounging as though the couple items of clothing and odd converses might have anything else to offer.

RIDDLE: A lot has been going on with you, it is possible you have. There is a first time for everything. I mean, what else could have happened to it?

Amber doesn’t respond immediately, allowing the silence to make it’s own suggestion.

RYAN: Photos don’t just grow legs and fuck off. I think it had help…

Cyrus looks at Amber curiously.

RIDDLE: Possibly… but one would be led to believe the leg given photo would need some significance to the one who would give it movement, yeah?

RYAN: Don’t play smart-ass with me Cyrus. It’s not like I haven’t pissed enough people off during my career… we both know who I think it is though.

Dropping the converse sneaker in her hand to the ground with a small thud, Amber lays on the floor with a sigh of agitation.

RIDDLE: Maybe it’s doing what you are doing. Laying around waiting to be picked up.

RYAN: I swear to God, Cyrus, I’m about to jam one of my sneakers somewhere tremendously unpleasant for you. That left nostril is never gonna be the same by the time I’m done…

Pulling herself back up to sitting, Amber can’t shake the notion that maybe she’s right. As much as she doesn’t want to be.

RIDDLE: Shouldn’t damage perfection, love. Look we will keep searching. If it doesn’t turn up here… and you haven’t left it at home, then we know who to go to. Fair?

An awkward pause overtakes them.

RYAN: You think I’m wrong, don’t you.

RIDDLE: I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I’m not saying you’re right either. Just be sure it’s not simple lapse of mind before you open wounds still fresh.

Amber wouldn’t admit it out loud, but internally she hoped she was wrong. That maybe she’d just lost it, that maybe she’d left it in her apartment. That maybe she wasn’t losing her mind just a little, even though she knew much better.

Anastasia Hayden is backstage, greeting the camera with a slight smirk on her face. She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, but she steps up and holds her arms out in a “Are you surprised?” kind of manner.

HAYDEN: “It’s not a big secret is it? I mean, I sure hope not. When it comes to who exactly runs 4CW…it’s just two names. Anastasia Hayden and Bronx Valescence. You’ve got Jair Hopkins and Jason Cashe making it into the 4CW Hall of Fame, but they don’t run 4CW. You’ve got Jair, Genie, Laughlin, Cosmo, Jeb, Tommy who are all champions…but they don’t run 4CW either. Team Adrenaline? They don’t run 4CW. The list goes on and on, but you won’t find anyone who runs 4CW like Bronx and I do.”

She scoffs; the arrogance starting to form on her face evident.

HAYDEN: “Cyrus asked me what exactly I’ve done in 4CW outside of my Fate Championship reign? How about Female Wrestler of the Year? Breakout Star of the Year? Tied for Feud of the Year and runner-up for Wrestler of the Year. What the fuck have you done recently, Cyrus? Oh, right, of course, you beat Chris Madison, let me bow down and applaud you for such an amazing task! When you can get over yourself for about five minutes, Cyrus, I’d advise you to listen up to what I’m about to say.”

Like a wake-up call to Cyrus, Ana pushes the side of the camera to grab his attention before it puts her back in the center of the frame.

HAYDEN: “Tonight’s about being made an example of. Either I’m going to walk down the path to becoming another Preshephone Marquis and lose match after match before heading into the big one against Bronx…or I’m going to make an example out of Cyrus Riddle for Bronx. Well, I’ll be the first to tell you that I refuse to go out there and make the same mistakes the challengers before me have. They all compromised their morals at a chance for gold, but not me. I’m not going to get lost in all that glitter and gold, Bronx. You know me better than that.”

Ana offers a dry nod; no emotion or ulterior motive hiding behind it.

HAYDEN: “When we meet at Retrograde, I’m not going to be stepping into that main event with forty losses prior…and even if I did? It wouldn’t matter. I’m the greatest wrestler in 4CW for a reason. When we go out there and put on the best match this company has ever seen? You’re facing Anastasia Hayden at her best. But don’t feel too special Bronx because from now until then? Everyone’s facing Anastasia Hayden at her best. And tonight? Cyrus Riddle is no exception to that.”

The mention of Riddle’s name causes Ana to narrow her eyes.

HAYDEN: “As empty as his threats are, as big of a dork that he is…I’m ready for everything and I’m deeming him worthy of facing the best Anastasia Hayden tonight. He’s worthy of being beaten by the best Anastasia Hayden. I refuse to let my year start off with a loss and I certainly refuse to let it be against Cyrus Riddle of all people. I’m starting it off right by reclaiming a loss I never should’ve suffered in the first place. I’m starting it off by putting him down…then putting down whoever Perry wants to put in front of me next Adrenaline.”

A slight tug of her lips to form a smirk before devolving back down into her stern, cold expression.

HAYDEN: “Everyone’s got their patterns I’ve noticed and I guess I’m no different, huh? My pattern is consistency in excellence. When I go out there in that ring, I give it no less than a hundred percent each and every single time. I’m not someone like Cyrus Riddle who needs to prop up my recent wins to show that I’m a credible threat. I just do that by stepping out into the ring and busting my ass off. By showing that I’m not some cheap one trick pony or someone lucking their way into a title shot.”

Another scoff from the number one contender.

HAYDEN: “I’ve earned everything in my life. I earned the Fate Championship, every award I won and every nomination, then I earned the number one contender shot for the 4CW Championship. I don’t need to be a Cyrus Riddle. I don’t need to be a Bronx Valescence. All I need to be focused on is being Anastasia Hayden. And I’m doing a pretty fucking great job so far. When it’s bell time tonight, I don’t have any intention on stopping that either. I won’t now. I won’t next week. The week after that. Or even after Retrograde when I bring Bronxy V down. So, be proud of that, Cyrus. You get to be part of 4CW history yet again!”

Ana feigns excitement for Cyrus and mockingly applauds him.

HAYDEN: “You get to be the first victim on Anastasia Hayden’s warpath to Bronx Valescence. I truly hope you’re ready for tonight. And Bronx? I know you’re watching. Cyrus, he’s just a footnote in my history. But us? We’re making history. The biggest 4CW main event of all time. I’ll do my best to hold up my end of the bargain, I know you’ll do the same. And Cyrus?”

Another smirk from Ana that’s wiped away the moment she takes a step closer to the camera, her voice hushing a bit.

HAYDEN: “Cyrus…you never even stood a fucking chance.”

A click of the tongue, shoulder shrug, and a look of pity on Ana’s face before she heads off as the camera fades to black.

4CW cameras are backstage following Cyrus Riddle as he exits his locker room. Walking slowly, the menacing look in his eyes, indicative of a deep seeded drive, remains the focal point. However, he stops abruptly as a 4CW crew member hands him a piece of paper which has been hastily folded. Examining its contents briefly, Riddle smirks and begins to speak, grabbing the crew member by the back of his neck.

RIDDLE: ”Do you know who you are? What you want out of life? Who dictates your future?”

The young man appears startled by the sudden inquisition, unable to respond properly.

RIDDLE: ”No worries… soon… very soon… everyone will be pondering the same questions, and for the indefinite future, it won’t be halted. Enlightenment, you little twat, that’s what you will need.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow.

RIDDLE: ”For months, this has been building. Not all monumental movements occur for all to see until the reveal is imminent. Tonight, I expose Anastasia Hayden for the brittle little girl she is. I expose the number one contender’s spot as the vacant position it truly is. Tonight, I exploit vulnerability, ignorance, and the facade. Do you understand?”

The young man nods quickly.

RIDDLE: ”4CW needs turned on its ear in two thousand eighteen. And what a way to begin, with another pay per view worthy lineup. Expect… anything.”

The Englishman looks down to the paper once more, crumbling it in his hand before shoving the young man by the face with a force that sends him into the wall.

RIDDLE: ”The difference between medicine and poison is the dose, and New Orleans, you hold privilege in witnessing the difference.”

Riddle holds up his two finger salute as he keeps walking, a confident stride in his steps as the feed cuts away.

HEADLINE
CYRUS RIDDLE VS. ANASTASIA HAYDEN

JOHNSON: ”We have two of the hottest stars in 4CW fighting tonight, these two are quickly rising up to the top.”

VASSA: ”I mean, everybody has seen Ana Hayden perform to her absolute best. Cyrus Riddle, however, has become a changed man as of late.”

JOHNSON: ”He really has, beating Chris Madison at Winter Wasteland has been the cherry on top of everything.”

VASSA: ”Yeah, we could see some serious implications here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”It will certainly be an interesting match to watch. I mean, what happens if Riddle beats Ana here tonight?”

VASSA: ”She is the number one contender, after all.”

JOHNSON: ”It certainly makes you think. Although, Ana is the number one contender for a reason. She’ll have plenty to fight for when she steps into that ring.”

VASSA: ”You’re right, absolutely. That’s how you prepare a match, folks. Boom baby, boom.”

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

“Welcome to the truth

God made me in his image

Who the fuck made you?

You want my voice from me?

You can have it, just know

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

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

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

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

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

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

“I’m the Messiah, the gnashing of teeth

No one meets death until they see me!

I am the Alphaaaaa! And the Omegaaaaa!”

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

JOHNSON: ”Beating Chris Madison was a huge victory for Cyrus Riddle, can he continue that here tonight?”

VASSA: ”He certainly looks up for the challenge.”

“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: ”Ana Hayden with a hard fought victory over Bryan Williams. She finally got that win, and in the process earned herself a main event spot against Bronx.”

VASSA: ”She’s stepped up, now it’s time to see if she can keep herself there.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell rings, and Riddle shoots from his side of the ring towards Ana Hayden. Hayden doesn’t have much time to move, rolling out of the way as Riddle tries to quickly take her head off with a Yakuza Kick attempt! Ana spins around, opting to grab Riddle from behind in a rear waist lock. Cyrus smiles, as Ana tries to pop her hips and toss him backwards, the attempt obviously does not go well for Ana. Cyrus breaks the hold, instead spinning around her and connecting with a huge Lariat!

Ana tries to recover, attempting to roll out of the ring. Cyrus quickly cuts her off from leaving. She’s on shaky legs, but manages to create some space from Cyrus. Cyrus tries for another forearm attempt, but Ana ducks under and doubles him over with a kick to his stomach. Cyrus snaps forward, and Ana connects with a Hook Kick followed into a DDT! Cyrus is laid out for the moment, allowing Ana to stand on his throat! Grabbing the top rope, Ana pushes forward with the heel of her boot on the throat of Cyrus Riddle. Choking him as hard as she can, Laroy Jones leaning towards the outside and warning Ana about the choke.

JOHNSON: ”Back and forth so far, Ana doing her best to wear Cyrus down.”

VASSA: ”It’s a smart move on her part, get him tired and then pick him apart.”

Ana tries to step back, but Cyrus throws a side kick that sends her stumbling backwards towards the ropes. He quickly springs up to his feet, knocking Ana over the top rope with a hard clothesline! Ana tumbles hard to the mat, as Cyrus quickly leaves the ring to follow. Cyrus grabs Ana by the hair, bringing her up to her feet. He smiles, and tosses her head first into the nearby barricade! Ana looks to be in trouble for the moment, as Cyrus looks around him. Laroy Jones calls for the two to get back into the ring!

Cyrus grabs Ana by the hair yet again, pulling her back up to her feet. A quick knee strike loosens his grip, Ana even knocks him down with a headbutt! Riddle falls down, as Ana connects with a running knee to the side of Riddle’s head! He falls down to the mat, as Ana rolls back into the ring and immediately rolls out. Laroy Jones complains to her about starting the count, but she ignores him. Ana doesn’t look completely recovered, as she tries to get Cyrus back up to his feet. She’s able to lift him up, pushing him back into the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Ana catches Cyrus, and now she’s back in control!”

VASSA: ”He took a hard shot there, Ana is definitely looking to hurt him here tonight.”

Cyrus gets to a knee, as Ana is quickly all over him. A switchblade kick connects, sending Cyrus Riddle stumbling across the ring. He props himself up into the nearby corner, as Ana rushes in with a Running Enziguri! The kick sends Riddle crumbling to the mat, as Ana quickly races up to the top rope. Cyrus doesn’t move, allowing Ana to land a Double Foot Stomp to Cyrus’ midsection, from the top turnbuckle! He looks to be in pain, as Ana quickly covers him for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Ana looks to continue her attack, but Cyrus is ready for her. He pops up to his feet, decking Ana with a HARD forearm! Cyrus checks himself, before landing a hard boot to the side of Ana’s head. He picks her back up, Ana tries to fight back with a forearm shot, but Cyrus almost levels her with a quick European Uppercut! Ana almost falls, but leaps right into Cyrus with a stiff forearm shot! It staggers him backwards, Cyrus pressing up against the ropes behind him. Ana throws out a bicycle kick, Cyrus moves out of the way and Ana gets tangled up into the ring ropes!

JOHNSON: ”Woah! Smart move by Cyrus!”

VASSA: ”Ana is in a bad spot here!”

Ana, trapped for a moment, looks as Cyrus nearly takes her head off with a European Uppercut! Still stuck, Cyrus throws another uppercut! And then he throws another one, and another one! Ana begins to bounce back and forth, trapped in the ropes, as Cyrus connects with hard European Uppercut after Uppercut. Ana eventually slumps down, falling back into the ring as Cyrus takes a step back. He looks around, and quickly covers her for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Ana tries to get back to her feet, but Cyrus is quick to put the boots to her side. Cyrus tries to attack Ana some more, but Ana blocks his knee strike and shoves him into the nearby cornerl. She grabs the back of his head, slamming him face first into the top turnbuckle. Cyrus lands hard, doubling over as he crawls on the ground to regain his composure. Ana immediately strikes, shoving Cyrus into the corner. Her boot rakes across his face, as Ana quickly moves into the FACE WASH! She connects at full speed, as Cyrus almost falls out of the ring from the shot.

JOHNSON: ”Big kick from Ana, and now Cyrus is hurt!”

VASSA: ”These two keep going back and forth, I can’t tell who’s going to take this one!”

Ana looks around the crowd, as she prepares to take this match into her own hands. She readies herself, but something catches her eye. Ana looks off, away from Cyrus, as she looks at something in the crowd. A sign has popped up, near the front row.

ANA FEARS BRONX

She instantly looks upset, leaving the ring to confront the person in the front row. The fan looks smug, almost like he got the reaction he wanted. He doesn’t expect Ana to reach out, and take away the sign! The fans around him cheer, as Ana rips the sign in half. She makes a comment about fans bringing in signs, something about how dumb they are lately. Either way, Ana has lost sight on her opponent. Riddle blasts her from behind with a vicious lariat, sending her crashing into the barricade!

JOHNSON: ”OH MY GOD!”

VASSA: ”ANA WAS DISTRACTED!”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus Riddle just came out of nowhere, capitalizing on a distracted Anastasia Hayden!”

VASSA: ”She was getting rid of that sign, and Cyrus just caught her. This looks real bad, Steve!”

Cyrus laughs, as Ana tries to get back up to her feet. He quickly picks her up, rolling her into the ring. Cyrus gets Ana back up to her feet, and easily dumps her to the mat with a huge German Suplex!

JOHNSON: ”Ana just landed hard, and it doesn’t look like Cyrus is letting up!”

VASSA: ”He knows! He knows what needs to be done to put somebody like this down!”

Cyrus doesn’t let go of the hold, opting for another big German Suplex to Ana Hayden! Ana lands hard, she tries to get back up to her feet but Cyrus crushes her with a DAYDREAMER! Another one quickly follows, as Riddle picks her back up to her feet. Ana doesn’t seem to know what’s happening, as Riddle crushes her with a THIRD DAYDREAMER!

JOHNSON: ”THIRD DAYDREAMER CONNECTS!”

VASSA: ”ANA IS IN A BAD SPOT HERE!”

Ana is trying to get back up, but Cyrus smells blood in the water! He positions himself next to her, lifting her up to her feet. Cyrus tosses Ana up onto his shoulders, quickly connecting with The Purge! His knee smashes into her face, completely catching her by surprise! Cyrus doesn’t seem to be finished there though. He lifts Ana back up, and drills her into the mat with a DARKNESS FALLS! Ana is motionless, as Cyrus quickly covers her for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

“Alpha and Omega” begins to play, the crowd stunned at the result here tonight! Ana lays in the ring, still trying to get back up as Cyrus gets to his feet. He looks at the crowd, completely hyped up for his win here tonight. He smiles, waving goodbye to Ana as he leaves the ring. With his head held high, Cyrus taunts the camera before heading towards the back.

JOHNSON: ”WOW!”

VASSA: ”Wow is right, I can’t believe this! Cyrus Riddle just stunned everybody, including Ana!”

JOHNSON: ”He saw an opening, and took it! Ana had no chance to fight back, Cyrus just poured it on and walked out with a victory here tonight!”

MARQUIS: “You know, being Jason Cashe is rather degrading. I don’t know how he does it.”

Persephone Marquis is now in her own locker room, shedding the degenerate clothes and racially charged imagery. She shakes her head, throwing it into the trash and looking into the camera.

MARQUIS: “I think I’m done stooping down to this level. It was fun, when there was something to work toward; getting him to grow a set of balls and finally meet me in the ring one on one. That ends tonight, though. Win or lose, I’m done dealing with retards. I’m done dealing with pups who think they’re as fucking alpha as the Thunder Buddy they’re reconnecting with. I’m done with Jason Cashe.”

Persephone grabs one of her bags, zipping it open and ruffling through.

MARQUIS: “There is no you and me after this, there’s not even going to be us as enemies. You played the Soulmate card to try and develop a connection, but it’s dead. This false sense of hope that you seem to be holding onto needs to stop, there’s nothing for you left after this. The smoke is going to clear, you’re going to be on your knees and I’m going to look at you, Cashe and I’m going to tell you for the millionth time, and the last time:”

Persephone gathers her clothes, walking toward a secluded area and looking at the camera.

MARQUIS: “It’s over.”

She goes into a small pocket of the room where the camera can’t see her. She continues to talk however; her words being picked up.

MARQUIS: “Everything you have to say behind my back to your shitty circle of fucking friends, all of your apologies, all of the dick you’ve been sucking to get people on your side – it’s not going to matter, it’s over. This is the cutoff, this is your last chance to say whatever the fuck you need to say and do whatever is on your mind. After that, well; the dead don’t speak, do they?”

She emerges from the pocket once again, flipping her hair as she stands in her usual attire; the white shorts and top with gold trimming, something very familiar to her new gifted flask that she digs through her bag to get a swig from. Her faces twists and she shakes it off. She grabs a shirt from her bag.

MARQUIS: “For all the shit you’ve done, for all the frustration and everything you put me through. From draining my motivation with your constant fucking bitching to killing my pets, I’m going to rip you apart in that ring and build myself a temple with your limbs. Every word you had to say leading up to this, back to back, were worthless and useless. You’re a fucking joke and I’m going to expose you to everyone as the fucking loser that you actually are.”

Persephone smiles at the camera wickedly, excited at the thought of destroying Cashe.

MARQUIS: “I’m going to kill you in that ring, one way or another. Win or lose, you’re not going to be the same because I’m going to force progression on your ass, bitch. And yes, you’re always going to be my bitch. You’re a pathetic hypocrite with nothing else going on for him in his life other than the weed a fucking racist drops off to you once a month. Fucking kill yourself, make sure that we never have to see the spastic displays of idiocy that have earned you your spot in the hall of fame. I’m above you in every way and I’m just getting started.”

Persephone turns away from the camera, unfolding the shirt.

MARQUIS: “Make your excuse now, pull as much hair as you want just because you want to see this happen; just because everything has to be about you and that’s why you deprived everyone of good fucking buildup. Your arrogance is going to tumble down, everything is going to become sand and salt from your touch. You’re a professional choke artist and I’m going to show the entire world.”

She throws on the shirt, back still turned from the camera as she takes a deep breath.

MARQUIS: “I’ve cleaned everything up. Every piece of you that was littering my life is burning in a dump in New York. I sold that apartment, the same one that you have a key to and could’ve ran up on whenever you had the chance. You were too much of a pussy, though. And I’m done with that pussy shit.”

Persephone turns to face a camera; her shirt with the words “R.I.P B.I.G”. She pulls at the collar, dusting it down as well; the pouting face of Biggie Smalls plastered across the black shirt.

MARQUIS: “I’m going to bury you. Hall of Fame afterward, you’re still going down by these hands; the same hands that are going to grab this year and make it mine. This is the first step, killing you off and erasing you from my life for good.”

Persephone pats at her chest.

MARQUIS: “I’ve been in LA long enough to say Westside, bitch, since we’re in the business of representing whatever colors are beneficial at the time. Last lesson, guys. How to Become a Hall of Famer: Jason Cashe Style #1 – Talk a lot of shit, and get the fuck hit. Collect a lot of hype, and catch another loss. Here’s a Jason Cashe segment coming at you live, right before he receives the biggest ass whooping of his entire fucking life. See you all there!”

Persephone winks at the camera, making her to the exit as the video fades to black.

Jair Hopkins was maxin, relaxin all cool, as he held the Pride Championship draped over his shoulders. He was just waiting for the upcoming Jason Cashe versus Persephone Marquis match to start, looking at the ring through one of the monitors that was set up in the backstage area. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a whisper in his ear gets his attention.

SMITH: ”Hero.”

The voice was that of Dakota Smith, who was standing directly behind Jair. A sort of deranged grin on his face as he pulls his face back from the man’s ear.

HOPKINS: ”DAKOTA! Boyyy..Oooh!”

Turning completely and backing up a few steps, Jair was briefly shook. Eyes wide and everything as he saw Dakota with that deranged grin. Hopkins patted his heart, quickly cooling himself down.

HOPKINS: ”What is wrong witchu?”

Dakota giggles, yes giggles. Or was it a chuckle? Either way it reeked of madness. His grin widened as he reached out and touched the pride championship on Jair’s shoulders. Jair pulling away, eyeing the man in a rather peculiar way.

SMITH: ”Me? Oh nothing is wrong with me Hops! I’m just fucking as dandy as can be!”

More of that laughter, followed by Dakota creeping around to Jair’s left a bit, his eyes glancing at the screen. He was still nursing his wounds from the events that transpired earlier, a bit of a limp to his step. As he ran his tongue across his bottom lip her jerked his eyes back to Jair.

SMITH: ”You need to calm down buddy, relax a little bit. Seem a little bit…JUMPY!”

Dakota jumps at Jair – in a friendly kind of way, well as friend as someone like Dakota jumping at you can be.

HOPKINS: ”I’m not … j-jumpy fam. You lucky you didn’t catch an elbow. You bein’ dandy and all, you still carry that aura around. That ear whispering thing, lil off’ but hey, long as you in a good mood, fine. You really should be on rest mode after that duel bruh. You out here whisperin in ears. Wild.”

Jair shook his head, laughing, as he shifted his eyes back towards the monitor, keeping an eye on it.

SMITH: ”There is no rest for the wicked, You know that! I’m the man who never sleeps, always awake, always fucking going!”

He pats Jair on the back, maybe a little harder than he should of. But Dakota was in a weird mood, as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. His smile was deranged, but yet it was genuine. He then positioned himself next to Jair so that they were both watching the screen. Glancing down at his pride title.

SMITH: ”So uh, I don’t know if I ever congratulated you. But congrats there Hero, ol buddy, ol pal! It’s been to long since there was singles gold on that shoulder! Jair Hopkins without a belt is just, less of a man… You know what i’m sayin’ playboi?”

Jair nodded, truly knowing what Dakota meant by that. It was a weird sight to see without the extra weight.

HOPKINS: ”Thanks! It definitely been some time, feels good. New playing field but the same ol’ grind. I need to see you rockin a bloody title on your shoulders. You got it comin’ though.”

Jair again alternating his focus between Dakota and the screen, Jair cleared his throat.

HOPKINS: ”I guess since it’s all a good mood and timing, apologies on the past. Wait! That sounded weird. But on the real, apologies about damn near putting you in the ground. We committed some wild shit. Gotta say, skin tone looks better man. As if that never happened.”

It might have not been the absolute perfect time to bring the past up out of nowhere but for Jair, the mood and moment felt right. Dakota’ stretched out his jaw, moving it around, a few cracks coming out here as he closed his mouth, Looking over at Jair, his grin turning into a slight smirk as he nods his head.

SMITH: ”Miracles of modern day medicine am I right?”

The two men shared a laugh, they both knew Dakota has never been to a doctors before in his life.

SMITH: ”But sure let the past be the past, stay dead and buried. We have to look to the future you and I. All that matters is what happens inside those four corners. In that ring… We’re going to take back this company from this…New generation of human rot that has been festering in our absence.”

This changed the tone a little bit, you could hear Dakota’s voice getting more rough, more growly as he looked back to the screen. Hopkins, smirking in agreement about taking back 4CW.

HOPKINS: ”Damn straight! We might have grown a lil long in the tooth as the old folks say but we far from done in this bitch. Still got a journey to finish up. I remember my youth, wide smile, bright eyes, thinking it was easy. New crop still in that phase till they get their teeth kicked in!”

Hopkins stretched his arms as he repositioned the title back firmly onto his shoulder.

HOPKINS: ”They got a lot to learn. They not ready for the big time yet. They hella-talented but they not ready yet. We still own it. Originals.”

Dakota starts to nod his head, in an almost cerebral fashion. Continuing to do so as he speaks. His eyes seemingly locked onto the screen now, entranced by the squared circle.

SMITH: ”Kimitsu Zombie, Viduus Morta… Genie…. All of them think that they are on top of the world, that the sky’s the limit! Put in hard work and everything will work out okay, do your best and you’ll see things through. So naive, so childlike in their attempts at true horror. Vermin, rats, a plague on something that I once considered my home. It reeks of new blood in these halls. They don’t see the gatekeepers watching their every movement. They exist… Because people like you and me allow them to exist.”

Jair’s eyes was on the screen but could feel the intensity of every word uttered by Dakota.

HOPKINS: ”Exactly, we allowin’ them to stay breathin. I’m sounding almost as dark as you right there but they think they got it like that. Speakin on Viduus, need you to take care of that like you know how to, feel me? Right?”

Hopkins broke his attention from the screen to look to his side only to see nothing standing beside him. He lowered his head, chuckling.

HOPKINS: ”Goddamn Dakota! Coulda’ at least said bye! Leave me hangin’.”

Jair just sighed as he was left to himself again after Dakota pulling his usual stunts. Hopkins leaned back up against the wall as his attention returned back to the monitors. Cameras had transitioned to another part of the building.

MAIN EVENT
PERSEPHONE MARQUIS VS. JASON CASHE

The Smoothie King Center in New Orleans, Louisana are excited for the main event. They’ve been waiting to see the grudge match become reality and witness every grueling moment which will come in seconds. The cameras pan around the audience showcasing the different types of fans from all around the arena; It turns over to Johnson and Vassa sat behind the announce table ready to call the action of the main event.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve reached the final match of the night. The main event which is a certified grudge match of two established top talent coming head to head. Jason Cashe facing off against Persephone Marquis. Boy, what do I say when you put two people who really don’t like each other in the middle of the ring?”

VASSA: ”Some epic’ shit bout’ to go down in this motherfucker! You know how long I’ve been waiting to see this! This match is gonna be possibly match of the year and the most brutal match of 2018 already. Don’t close your eyes for a minute!”

JOHNSON: ”We have Persephone Marquis who is looking to bounce back from losing to Bronx Valescence in possibly one of the greatest 4CW World Championship matches in 4CW history. She’s looking to beat the living hell out of Jason and put her name back in the World Title picture again. Which I’m sure we’d all love to see.”

VASSA: ”And the other side of battle, Jason Cashe. The former three-time 4CW Champion ready to have yet another main event win under his belt. The taste of bragging rights over Persephone Marquis is more than enough to motivate him. This is already gonna be a fuckin bodybag from either two. I got my popcorn here, my goggles, and other shit I need.”

JOHNSON: ”Well, let’s turn it over to Powers to begin with the match introductions!”

The cameras transition away from the announce table over to the ring. Standing in the center of it is Powers in his signature black suit holding a microphone under his chin. He gets the cue from production to begin and does so by speaking into it.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is our main event of the evening and it is scheduled for one fall!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

As the crowd waits for the next entrance of the night, they have a mixed reaction to Persephone entering the stage into a dim arena with a single spotlight on her. “Grew Up A Screw Up” by Ludacris begins to play and she listens intently, not quite impressed.

“Dedicated to all my hustlers that’s a product of they environment!”

Persephone rolls her eyes at those lyrics, shaking her head and signaling for the song to be cut short. Once it is with a comical DJ scratch, the crowd fills the void with their yells and screaming. Some cheers here and there as she begins to smile broadly. She makes a roll motion with her finger and the next track plays.

“I ain’t got no motherfucking friends. That’s why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker!”

It’s “Hit Em Up”, Tupac’s voice filling the arena as Persephone is seen laughing, everything lighting up brightly with specks of gold shining throughout the crowd with a glittering lights. She begins to make her way down the ramp; while usually collecting money, she seems to be throwing it this time as the women of the song demand “Take Money!”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds, five feet and seven inches tall. She is the Killer of Tupac and Biggie; Ronald DeFeo Jr. dropping dimes on herself like a Rockefeller. They call her Queef, Q, that cunt– she probably fucked your mother twice and will leave you acting like the little bitch you are. It’s the Cashe Burner, smoking up to water the eyes of grown men. One of the original Sadboiz to rock a Retrograde. She only fucks with motherfuckers on the first team, Mr. Brightside herself with an announcement as long as an Octane promo – PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”

She throws the final band, looking into the camera once she reaches the bottom; right along with the song as she yells “First off, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim” before rolling into the ring. She pulls at her “RIP BIG” shirt, as emphasis that Cashe is about to be history. Persephone goes to sit upon the turnbuckle, throwing up westside as a way to mock how quickly Cashe is to change sides.

“Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets. So fuck peace!” Is the last thing heard from the song before it cuts as she’s finally settled. She shakes her head; mouthing ‘he’s fucking done’ into the camera, waiting for the match to start with a confident smile on her face.

JOHNSON: ”The former two-time 4CW Fate Champion, Persephone Marquis, is ready and she’s apparently wrestling in a Notorious B.I.G shirt. Adding insult to injury in everywhere we can now huh? If she’s planning to wrestle in that, a clear message to Jason Cashe that Persephone is ready to end his career and break every bone in his body.”

VASSA: ”Are you kidding me?! She can wrestle naked for all I care. Persephone Marquis is one of the best talents 4CW has ever seen. She can wrestle in briefs, boxers, panties, lingerie or even a onesie and the entire world would bow down to her as will Jason will do!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

MARQUIS! MARQUIS! MARQUIS! MARQUIS!”

The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back, almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.

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

Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps, those who have their hands out wanting some love he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.

Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he balances on the middle rope, leaning against the top rope and once again hits the “Air Joint” before getting hyped up over the upcoming match. Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell.

VASSA: ”Jason Cashe can’t wait to get- is he wearing golf pants and golf shoes? What in the fuck is he wearing? Whatever is that, I hope he’s ready for a fight. The former three-time 4CW Champion is in the zone to score yet another victory on his resume. Persephone and Jason do not like each other. They hate each other and they are gonna brawl like two angry animals!”

JOHNSON: ”I agree. This main event was perfect to launch Adrenaline in 2018. Jason Cashe against Persephone Marquis is a certified grudge match. The grudge match if I may add and it’s coming to a great end tonight in New Orleans, Louisana!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

JASON CASHE! JASON CASHE! JASON CASHE! JASON CASHE!”

The two in their respective corners are eager to begin the match while Powers leaves the ring. The referee stands in the center of the ring pointing at the competitors asking them if they’re ready. The answer was obvious and he waves his arm in the air signalling for the bell!

JOHNSON: ”Jason Cashe! Persephone Marquis! Main Event of Adrenaline! here we go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The two rivals explode from their corners and meet inside the center of the ring firing shots at each others. Punches, kicks, elbows, knees and other parts of their body possible to pummel each other. They start moving around in this riot fury inspired brawl; Fighting each other on the ropes, into the corners until the referee has to shove them apart to restore order. The moment he lets them continue the match, Jason tackles Persephone down to her back and gets on top to rain down blows. She sweeps him and goes into the mount taking her hammer fists.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”This match hasn’t even hit five fucking seconds and they’re tearing each other apart like animals! Holy shit!”

Once the two break off from one another, they got back up and meet in the center of the ring. Persephone stops Jason his tracks with a great kick into the ribs followed leg kicks. She keeps mixing it up. Elbows, leg kicks, elbows, leg kicks. She takes the right arm before whipping him down into the ropes. Upon the rebound, Jason tries to throw a clothesline but Persephone ducks under it and turns around to knock him down with a good dropkick!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”A Dropkick after the striking combination. Persephone is one of the best technical strikers in 4CW and I love how she becomes so creative with it. Very unorthodox and fast paced in her offense!”

Jason gets back on his feet and Persephone tries to throw him into the nearest corner. He spins around taking her energy thus Persephone hits the turnbuckle spine first before getting glued to them. The moment Cashe charges in, she kicks her feet up and pushes him back. He rubs his chin, and he tries to go for her again. She kicks him away, runs out of the corner to duck under a clothesline then makes the return from the ropes putting him down face first with a running bulldog!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Running Bulldog by Persephone Marquis! She’s really trying to get the advantage with the early stages of the match and it seems to be working in her favor! Here’s the pin attempt!”

ONE

Jason kicks out early in the pin attempt. Persphone drags him back up to his feet and a kick into the ribs put him in a delicate position. She runs into the ropes and rebounds but Jason catches her with a bell clap stopping her in a stunned position. He grabs her, a handful of her hair, before running her face first into the top turnbuckle. Upon the rebound of the impact, Cashe pulls her back into him and adds more pain down her spine with a back suplex in the middle of the ring.

“LETS GO CASHE! LETS GO MARQUIS! LETS GO CASHE! LETS GO MARQUIS!”

VASSA: ”Back Suplex after the Bell Clap! Jason thinking quickly on his feet like a smart motherfucker! Shoutout to Cashe for being a quicker strategist than Marquis was!”

He doesn’t go for the pin attempt but instead lifts her back on his feet. Both hands grasping a handful of her hair, he headbutts her like a barbarian. She steps back from the blow trying to regain her balance but eventually falls into his clutches. A good right knee keeps her bent down before he clubs down her back putting her onto a kneeling position. Jason underhooks both her arms and continues targeting her back with the Double Underhook Backbreaker!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Damn! Double Underhook Backbreaker! Is it me or does Jason seem like a hair fetish? He reminds me of the thin man from Charlie’s Angels! Creepy mothafucka! Here’s the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

No! She kicks out and Jason doesn’t hesitate to continue the offense. He helps her up again and this time tries to throw her over the top rope to ringside but she holds onto the top rope long enough to stand on the apron. Jason sees this and bursts off into a sprint attempting to spear her off the apron. She sidesteps him and hits him on the top of the head with a gamengiri. As he’s bent over the middle rope, she drops off the apron, backs up a little then takes off to clock his head in with a running drive-by dropkick!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”The Gamengiri followed by the Running Drive-by Dropkick! Jason never saw it coming and now he’s paying the price for it! Now the action has spilled out to the outside and Persephone is going to take full advantage of it!”

One! … Two1″

Jason rolls off the apron down all the way to ringside in a crash while Persephone sits down on the apron edge. She gets off and helps him back up again before throwing him spine first against the barricade. Cashe yells out the moment his back collides into the structure before sliding down onto his ass. That’s where Persephone backs off having a crazy wicked idea pop up in her mind.

“Three! … Four!”

She charges out of nowhere and just launches that right knee straight into his chin. The impact even makes the fans at ringside jump back into their seats. Persephone looks down at Jason covering his chin like she really did some damage to it but all she wants is to win the match. Marquis shoves him back into the ring, quickly climbs the apron all the way to the top rope. She leaps off and nearly breaks his ribs with a diving seated senton!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”I think Persephone clearly doesn’t give a flying fuck about Jason’s well being! A Knee Strike and also a Diving Senton?! How the hell do you manage to pull this off?! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

No! Jason still has some fight in him and he refuses give up so easily. He starts crawling over to the ropes until Persephone punt kicks him in the ribs before mouthing off. She stomps down on him like a loose canon. Jason tries to get up and Persephone runs into the ropes behind her to gain stronger velocity for a huge incoming strike. Unfortunately for her, he ducks under a thrown right arm taking it into his grasp then blowing her back out again with a Shoulder Slam!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Jason Cashe coming back from the dead! The Shoulder Slam out of nowhere turning things around and Persephone Marquis doesn’t know what hit her! He’s currently feeling that jaw of his, might want to get it checked out but damn! This match is going so fast, we don’t know who or what will happen next!”

Jason manages to get on his feet and drag her up by the arm. Holding onto that arm still, he knocks her down on the canvas with clotheslines into her chest over and over again. Persephone gets pulled up again and thrown into the ropes. She rebounds and Jason catches her before lifting her off the canvas then dropping her down onto her back again with the sidewalk slam! It doesn’t end there, he runs into the ropes and comes back to add more pressure with the rolling senton!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Sidewalk Slam with the Rolling Senton! Jason Cashe is sparing no expense in fucking up Marquis and here comes the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

No! She kicks out yet again and Jason rolls off to gather his bearings in a corner. Stalking her like prey, he waits for her to get up in the opposing corner which she does. Cashe bursts across the ring to clobber her ass but Persephone swoops through the ropes allowing him to crash chest first into the turnbuckles until kicking him in the nose with another gamengiri! The moment he steps back into the center, he gets taken off his feet from a springboard wheel kick!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Another Gamengiri followed by a Springboard Wheel Kick! Persephone Marquis is tired of this bullshit and declaring war!”

Jason gets blown back from the springboard attack that he rolls backwards onto his feet again. He charges into Marquis, ducks under the right arm and tries to go for the tiger suplex; Marquis slaps the grasp off her arms and turns around before knocking him down to his right knee with a step-up enguiziri. She sees him on his right knee and takes off into the ropes. A huge shining wizard nearly dislocates his jaw and he falls down on the canvas!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”The Spring Deity! The Spring Deity Shining Wizard Signature! Jason never expected that and here comes Persephone trying to score the quick pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Just before the hand could come down for the third time, Jason kicks out at the last second. She sees him down and goes over to the corner where she climbs up to the top turnbuckle. Persephone perches on the top turnbuckle staring down at Jason who on his back until he gets up out of nowhere. He just charges right into her and lands an elbow shot in between her legs which she yells out nearly deafening the fans at ringside.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”That is just sickening! This man has no respect for Marquis! A running Elbow Shot into her…her…coochie!”

Having his opponent on the top turnbuckle, he starts climbing all the way to the middle rope trying to get her secure in the superplex position. Persephone fires forearms into his ribcage loosening the grip until pushing him off but he lands on his feet then kicks her in the head with the dude kick temporarily rocking her. He climbs up onto the middle turnbuckle, hooks her arm over his head and then both competitors are down on the canvas from the superplex!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Superplex! Superplex! Superplex! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Persephone kicks out again and he can’t believe it. Jason has a handful of her hair again and drags her up violently back onto her feet. He takes the arm over his head wrenching it before putting his foot to her chin, and produces the eat defeat which turns her around. Back on his feet, both arms are hooked from behind until throwing her over his body in a tiger suplex which he bridges up for the pin attempt!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Tiger Suplex after the Eat Defeat! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Persphone kicks out yet again and Jason slaps his hands on the mat in frustration. He slowly manages to get back up on his feet before falling into the ropes. Persephone takes moments before getting back up to her feet; He charges into her trying to end it but she leaps up with a high knee strike clapping the jaw. Jason takes a few steps back but out of nowhere, he leaps into her and knocks her down onto her back from a superman elbow shot!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”The Mark of Jason! The Mark of Jason! The signature Superman Elbow! Right out of nowhere and Persephone might be out cold! Here’s the pin!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Noooo! Persephone kicks out of the pin attempt and Jason sits up completely shocked. How the hell did she manage to survive? He doesn’t waste any time and helps her up onto her feet before tossing her into the corner spine first. Jason charges after her and she lifts herself up allowing him to duck which makes her wrap her legs around his waist before flipping over producing a successful sunset flip driver stacking him on top of his neck!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

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

VASSA: ”The Yoshi Tonic! Persephone Marquis changing everything about this match and the quick pin attempt from the Sunset Flip!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

He shoots his legs out of the pin attempt but Marquis stands on her feet. She leaps over and double foot stomps his face down into the canvas. The audience groans in awe again as it looks like Jason might be bleeding from the corners of his lips. While he’s on the canvas trying to recover and get up, Persephone goes onto the apron holding onto the top rope with both hands waiting!

“PERSEPHONE! PERSEPHONE! PERSEPHONE! PERSEPHONE!”

VASSA: ”This might be the motherfucking opportunity Persephone needs to finish this match! She’s going for the Petty Cash!”

Soon as Jason stands up in the center of the ring, she leaps onto the top rope then springboards in the air over to him. She grasps his head and spins around for the Tornado DDT but he stops her mid-way and prevents his head into the canvas. Jason then switches into the suplex position before dead lifting her into the vertical suplex. However, she drops down behind him back to back then Cashe leaps off the mat for that neckbreaker cutter!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”THE U.T.I! THE U.T.I! UNDER THE INFLUENCE! HOLY SHIT!”

JOHNSON: ”JASON CASHE HAS HIT THE NECKBREAKER CUTTER ON PERSEPHONE MARQUIS! THE U.T.I IN THE CENTER OF THE RING! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

No music, no sound effect, nothing the sound of the fans throughout the arena cheering for the hard fought match between the two former lovers turned enemies. Rising to his feet, Cashe looks down to Marquis, getting his last words in before turning away and throwing his hands into the air. Looking to Cashe who already has his arms raised, the official just points to him, declaring him the winner.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Looking back one final time at Marquis who is still down, Cashe waves her off before turning his back and dipping through the ropes. The task at hand had been accomplished, there wasn’t anything further to do other than move on to the next. And that’s exactly what he did, leaving it all behind him as he headed up the ramp towards the entrance.

VASSA: ”Top to fucking bottom this was one hell of a way to kick off the new year!”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed it was. I can’t think of a better way to start off the new year than this entire performance we had here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Now it’s on to the next and Retrograde which is right around the corner.”

JOHNSON: ”And hopefully people can leave things in the past and press forward,. It’s a new year after all and what better time to start things off on the right foot with a clear mind.”

VASSA: ”So we’re not supposed to talk about what we saw here tonight, especially with this last match and everything building up to it.”

JOHNSON: ”What’s the point. It’s all in the past now and before you even try to get things stirred once again, I’m going to cut you off and end this show right now.”

VASSA: ”You can’t do that!”

JOHNSON: ”Watch me! Folks, it’s been quite the pleasure. Thank you all for joining us here tonight with Adrenaline’s first event of the year. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I have but can also leave things here in regards to certain beef or dramas between certain individuals. It’s been a wild ride tonight and it’s finally come to an end. We’ll see you in two weeks for Adrenaline Seventy-Nine, live from the Chesapeake Energy Arena in Oklahoma City! I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”God-fucking-damnit! You just did not!”

With a smirk on his face, Steve glances over at Vassa who is furious things are being cut so short.

VASSA: ”WELP!!! That’s my queue. It’s been a pleasure folks. I’m Vinny Vassa, good fucking night and happy new year!”

And with that, the scene slowly begins to fade as the Showtime logo appears, shortly followed by the credits.