ADRENALINE E82 (142)

MARCH 28TH, 2018 COLONIAL LIFE ARENA COLUMBIA, SC

“Survival” plays over the speakers as our picture slowly opens up to a shot from within the Colonial Life Arena. There was electricity in the air as tonight’s Adrenaline was round two for the South Beach Brawl Cup, one step closer to the big match to conclude the tournament next month. Heading south for South Beach Brawl, we stop tonight for Adrenaline Eighty-Two, live from Columbia, South Carolina. In the center of the ring the camera rolls, panning the entire arena and looking throughout the crowd, more importantly the signs we’ve all grown to love throughout the years.

FUCK MAYBE
EVEN BRONX

THE ELITE
OF THE
E L I T E

VOODOO
K I N G

WHAT HAPPENS
ON APRIL 11TH?

TWITTER TEARS

FEELS LIKE
DEJA VU

YOUR MOM GOES
TO COLLEGE

The arena was packed as far as the eye could see. It took hard work over the years to grow to this level, not overnight like some of the charades we see new places these days pulling. Adrenaline wasn’t always this big, just like the South Beach Brawl Cup this year. The pressure was on for those still holding a place in the brackets. Columbia knew what was at stake tonight for those still competing in the second round later tonight. I don’t even know what this is, let’s fast forward a bit and cut down to ringside where Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit behind the booth.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Adrenaline Eighty-Two, live from the Colonial Life Arena right here in Columbia, South Carolina! I’m your host, Steve Johnson, and tonight we press on into the second round of this years South Beach Brawl Cup!”

VASSA: ”Thank you for the long introduction, Steve. You did a swell job. Hello folks! Vinny Vassa here welcoming you all who decided to join us as we head south to Miami, Florida!”

JOHNSON: ”We have a big night ahead of us. As you all know, the South Beach Brawl Cup is underway as we held the first round two weeks ago. Tonight, we have round two along with some other interesting things developing here at Adrenaline.”

VASSA: ”Developing like how? Surely nothing like certain people sleeping with other people’s father. Nothing like that, right?”

JOHNSON: ”Well, now that you mention it, that is one of the recent things developing. Just two weeks ago Nurse Kinsley and Kimitsu Zombie were scheduled to face off with contendership for the XTV Championship on the line. Turns out, Harlow had something up her sleeve as she announced to Kimitsu and the world that she in fact slept with her dad. You hit the nail right on the head with that one.”

VASSA: ”Nailed flat! In the end, Nurse Kinsley managed to defeat Kimitsu, pinning her to her back just like she did her dad. And for that, she finds herself in an XTV Championship match against the champion, Cyrus Riddle!”

JOHNSON: ”Knowing Kimitsu, she isn’t going to let that slide. Be on the lookout for some fireworks tonight ladies and gents!”

VASSA: ”While that’s going on, let’s talk about Jair Hopkins, 4CW’s Pride Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”Things got a little weird two weeks ago when Viduus Morta set his sights on the reigning champion.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know what the future holds, but this could lead to something big down the road for these two.”

VASSA: ”Maybe even fu– maybe even a big championship match at South Beach Brawl?”

JOHNSON: ”We can only wait and see. It’s going to be interesting to see how Jair reacts tonight.”

VASSA: ”Then we have the South Beach Brawl Cup, my favorite thing this time of year! Hell, it might very well be my favorite thing about 4CW, especially after this years.”

JOHNSON: ”Advancing into the second round, we have eight individuals who won their round one matches two weeks ago. Tonight we have four matches to determine who will advance to round three.”

VASSA: ”You mean April Eleventh?!?!”

JOHNSON: ”Bingo! Kicking things off we have Andre Holmes squaring off against Andre Holmes. Then we have Mariano Fernandez taking on Dakota Smith, the second person from Crooked Kingdom that Mariano has faced in the last two shows.”

VASSA: ”If that wasn’t enough, we have Anastasia Hayden climbing into the ring with the leader of the jobbers here in 4CW, the man of mayhem himself, Chris Madison!”

JOHNSON: ”Please tell me that you’re not buying into this jobber thing.”

VASSA: ”I’m not. Chris said it himself, and I’ve never known him to lie. So it must be true, right?”

JOHNSON: ”You guys are nuts. I’m moving on, not listening to this garbage.”

VASSA: ”Fine, that’s fine! But after me because I’m announcing our main event tonight for round two of the South Beach Brawl Cup.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh, you mean the 4CW Championship match?”

VASSA: ”Yes! The one between Genie Carlson’s beautiful behind and the 4CW Champion, it him, Bronxy V!”

JOHNSON: ”This is a great main event we have on our hands. Overall, it’s a pretty good Adrenaline if I do say so myself.”

VASSA: ”From top to bottom, we do this week in and week out, but bi-weekly.”

JOHNSON: ”That doesn’t even make sense.”

VASSA: ”It doesn’t have to! That’s the card now let’s move on and get on with tonight’s super hella huge event!”

JOHNSON: ”For once I’m going to have to agree with you. Folks, sit tight, we’re going to cut backstage for just a brief moment before returning right here for our opening match.”

VASSA: ”But not without the pretty little tournament poster. I want to see it!”

CASHE: ”Can I touch it?”

Hurrying to open up backstage, the cameras put focus on Jason Cashe. Standing with him, near him was his World$tar Partner and close friend, Jair Hopkins. What Cashe wanted to touch was the Pride Championship as Hopkins adjusts it draped over his shoulder.

HOPKINS: ”What? Why? No? Hands to yourself Cashe..”

CASHE: ”Fine..”

Humming as Cashe stands with his hands held together hanging down in front of him. Like Dennis the Menace trying hard to not push the red button, he REALLY wanted to touch the Pride Championship. Hopkins keeping an eye on Cashe because if anyone knows, Hopkins knows. Yet before anything can pop off or fingers get frisky, Gabriel Hartman hurries into the scene as the duo stand near the entrance, ready to head out for their Tag Match.

HARTMAN: ”Jason! Jair! A word before your match?”

Both members of Crooked Kingdom answer but their answers weren’t the same.

HOPKINS: ”Sure..”

CASHE: ”No!”

HARTMAN: ”Ummm.. Which is it?”

Giving Cashe a stare, Hopkins looks back at Gabriel Hartman and gives him a nod to go ahead with the questions if he had some. Cashe took his shot and reaches over placing a finger tip on the main plate of the Pride Championship. Hopkins didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t care. Cashe wouldn’t complain anymore either way.

HARTMAN: ”Who is World$tar these days? Former Tag Champions but a Team that as quickly as it stood tall also fell far since the last you two teamed up. Who are you now? Given the recently ‘runs’ of luck for..”

Giving Cashe a slight stare, that last part was no doubt directed at Cashe but the question was more asked to Hopkins. He was after all the Champion among the two.

HOPKINS: ”Out there tonight? You’ll get all the answers you need. As for the slight jab thrown at Cashe here? Every name that has stepped in between those ropes have had a run of bad luck.”

CASHE: ”Yeah! This ain’t Galveston Island or CWC! Not to mention World$tar JUST teamed not that long ago in Kamikaze! We OWNED that shit too!”

HOPKINS: ”We went to a No Contest..”

CASHE: ”We did aight..”

Shrugging, Cashe turns away with a touch of disappointment in his voice. Not too disappointed to sneak in another touch of the Pride Title though. Again either Hopkins didn’t notice or didn’t care.

HARTMAN: ”Hopkins, are you afraid of Viduus?”

The reaction was shock. Hopkins hadn’t been ready for such a bluntly asked question but before he could respond, Jason Cashe springs back into the conversation and snatches the mic from Hartman.

CASHE: ”Dumb question. We don’t believe in the boogeyman Hartman! Gawd! Let ME ask you a question now Hoppers!”

HOPKINS: ”Hoppers? Come on Cashe!”

Waving a hand at Hopkins to calm him down on the bad nickname attempt. Cashe reaches and pulls in Hartman. The interviewer is almost put in a headlock as his head is tugged under Cashe’s arm.

HOPKINS: ”Do be careful of his nipple there Hartman!”

Cashe gives Hopkins a paused look. Hopkins shrugs and grins. A joke that will never get old between them, there is LITERAL scar tissue to keep it in their minds.

CASHE: ”My question is for you Hartman.. Ask me what you asked World$tar to start this bit out.”

HARTMAN: ”What? What question?”

Neither him nor Jair Hopkins had no idea what Cashe was asking or what he was doing but he had a smile on his face and seemed FULL of energy for their upcoming match.

CASHE: ”Who we are now. Ask ME that though, not us as a team or the obvious question had about Crooked Kingdom. Just ask me that first question though, alright?”

Releasing Hartman, he was shaking some. There wasn’t a reason to be scared of Cashe, the two had known each other for so long. Longer than Cashe has known Hopkins even and Cashe was always good to Hartman regardless. Yet with Cashe being this amped up, it was hard to not think something tainted with Crooked or unstable like conditions would follow.

HARTMAN: ”Who.. Are. You.. Jason?”

The smile gone. The expression of anything hyped up or excited had disappeared. Even the bounce in his inability to stand still had vanished. Giving the microphone back to Hartman, Jason Cashe got real close. Jair Hopkins put out a hand to keep Cashe from being too close to Hartman as if he was going to strike out, release some of that stress and struggle he has been having. Just words came though and they came with a heat not of stank breath cause Cashe brushed AND flossed this morning. This heat was something different.

CASHE: ”I’m a nobody. I’m a tramp, a bum, a hobo. I am a Boxcar and a jug of wine.. And if you get too close, I am a straight razor. I am what people no longer notice or put any respect too. This match tonight? A win doesn’t add anything, it’s like beating Gordy on Twitter and he’s got two personalities. That’s what this is and to lose tonight?”

Sucking in air through his teeth, he turns away. He couldn’t even stomach the thought of it. Grunting and becoming riled up not in excitement but rage, Jair Hopkins takes over the conversation and hurries it along so they can get out there and do what they do.

HOPKINS: ”As my partner here would have eventually said.. Yadda yadda, the time for yapping yappers has come to end. WOOOOORLD$TAAAAAR! CK! We Here! Let’s Go!”

Walking away towards the entrance, Hopkins pulls free his Pride Championship and things seem to be over. Cashe steps up to Hartman one final time, pulls the mic close and gives one last statement.

CASHE: ”RRAAAAH!”

Gabriel Hartman stands there like he had been turned to stone. He wasn’t blinking or moving his hands, mouth or body in general. A camera guy or someone in production pokes their head into the scene, leaning in near Hartman and whispers.

PRODUCTION: ”Did Cashe just quote Charles Manson? I think he just quoted Charles Manson…”

OPENING MATCH
WHEN THE SMOKE CLEARS VS. WORLD$TAR

We fade in from Jason Cashe backstage to the arena. The crowd is hot and ready to go for the opening tag bout.

JOHNSON: “Well we have an… interesting one to start out with here tonight.”

VASSA: “Interesting is putting it lightly. We’ve got too men who have smoked up the locker room and… well… two men who have at least smoked up a locker room a few times in their day.”

The slightly modified theme from 80s television show ALF — given a similar treatment that Vanilla Ice did to Queen’s “Under Pressure — queues up over the PA system.

POWERS: “Making their way down the aisle at this time, at a total combined weight of four-hundred fifteen pounds…”

Upon proclamation from Mike Powers, the duo of When The Smoke Clears emerges from behind the curtain, shimmying sideways while locked in a full embrace. The audience gives a generally positive reaction, with some fans slipping surgical masks over their faces (provided by the stage crew) to prepare for the lingering cloud of smoke that will soon waft in their direction. We also hear the comedically off-key voices of Luke and Paul begin to sing over the music in unison: Luke taking a falsetto approach while Paul “balances” it out in a Tom Jones-esque rasp.

“We’re the best

Team in the Cor-ners Four

It’s Luke Jones

And his friend Paul Ma-aall

They’re called When The

Smoke Clears!

And they’re really cool!

They’re coming down

To the ring

And when they

Get

There

It will

Rule”

POWERS: “The ‘Annihilator’ LUKE JONES… the ‘Natural American Spirit’ PAUL MALL… they are WHEN THE SMOKE CCLLEEAARRSS!!!”

Luke and Paul make their way down the aisle to the tune, with Paul engaging in the occasional hand-slap, never losing focus on the cigarette puffing from the corner of his mouth. Jones also plays toward the crowd, engaging in his usual catcalling antics. The theme song, after a pass-through without any lyrics, conveniently reaches its apex as the two enter the ring.

“In the ring

There they now stand

Luke will yell

And Paul…will….smoke.

Are their opponents

In the ring?

Maybe they are

Maybe they’re not

This song

Was written

Before we

Knew the order.”

VASSA: “Did these two morons write their own theme song?”

JOHNSON: “It does seem as such, their opponents are not in the ring yet. We are seeing Paul Mall for the first time in a 4CW ring, we’ve seen Luke Jones here before. What do you expect out of the duo?”

VASSA: “Not much.”

“WOOOOOOOORLD$TAAAAAAAAR”

“If I hit ’em high, hit ’em high, hit ’em high

And you hit ’em low, hit ’em low, hit ’em low

If I hit ’em high, hit ’em high, hit ’em high

And you hit ’em low, hit ’em low, hit ’em low!”

Stepping out from the back first is “The Smooth One” William D. Williams! Suit top class and expensive as he comes to a stop where the stage meets the aisle ramp. Turning back to the entrance as the lyrics of the first verse spills out from the speaker system.

”Goin’ straight through the hole

You ain’t got no game

I’m breakin’ ya out the frame

Coming through like a train

Looking to take over the world is my goal

With my unstoppable crew takin’ all control

You can’t get none of this, we’re runnin’ this

Well taker, earth shaker, 3 point gunnin’ this

Get out the lane, I’m comin’ through

And if you don’t wanna move then I’m comin’ right through you”

The crowd gets loud and hype as Jair Hopkins leaps out going “high” as Jason Cashe almost creeps out in a squatted “low” playing to the theme song. Both greet “The Smooth One” as the three of them turn to the ring. Hopkins and Cashe color coordinated but keeps their own style about their attire. Hopkins slaps a few hands as he gets a head of the team. Cashe couldn’t care less to interact as William D. Williams moves down the center of the aisle way.

”We want it all (want it all!)

Unstoppable, we run the floor (run the floor!)

You can’t take none of this hardcore (hardcore!)

In the game we take you to war (war!)

You ain’t seen nothin’ like this before

If I hit ’em high, hit ’em high, hit ’em high

And you hit ’em low, hit ’em low, hit ’em low

If I hit ’em high, hit ’em high, hit ’em high

And you hit ’em low, hit ’em low, hit ’em low “

As the team gets to ringside, Cashe and Hopkins go separate directions. “Smooth One” reaches the steel stairs and climbs up onto the ring apron. As Hopkins slides in under the bottom ropes and Cashe dips in through the middle on opposite sides, the two pass the other by, they clap slap hands three times rapidly. Hopkins pulling his shirt off, Cashe already ready to go as William D. Williams remains on the ring apron outside the ropes for introductions.

POWERS: ”One comes to us from Los Angeles, California by way of Brooklyn, New York! A former TWO Time 4CW Champion! JAIR AMIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

The crowd erupts. A fan favorite, a name that helped make the 4CW brand. Stepping up on the turnbuckles, leaning against the top buckle, Hopkins throws his arms up. Feeding on the audience as they pour him with their love and support.

POWERS: ”The other comes from Houston, Texas by way of DeCatur, Georgia! He is a THREE Time 4CW Champion and a Two time Extreme (XTV) Champion! The ‘tRoUbLeD oNe’ JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Slowly he turns to see every section in the arena. Some cheering, more booing and he doesn’t react much at all. Finally staring back at the Announcer, wanting him to hurry along. He gets the the final part of their introduction.

POWERS: ”Accompanying them and presenting them as a Manager, ‘The Smooth One’ William D. Williams! THEY… ARE… WWOORRLLDDSSTTAARR!!!”

The fans echo out the name along with Powers. More cheers and howls of their name are heard as they stand ready to fight.

JOHNSON: “We’ve seen a brief hiatus from World Star while Cashe tested his fate in the South Beach Brawl Cup. Jair of course has been very successful in his singles endeavors.”

VASSA: “Plain and simple. These guys were disappointed in the way their tag team reign went. They want it back, and they’re coming for Battle Born. Tonight is an opportunity to show them that they’re coming. Jason Cashe is a man who proves points in this business, he’s done it time and time again.”

JOHNSON: “Two hall of famers. One Team. Both members of Crooked Kingdom. Let’s get this one underway!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Luke Jones is going to get started with Jair Hopkins. Jair turns his head from side to side and tests the ropes. Luke starts out into the middle of the ring but holds up a finger to Jair who throws his hands up, he’s ready to go. Paul Mall on the apron has reached into his tights and he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Luke leans into the turnbuckles and reaches for a smoke. Mall hands him one and they both light up. Smoking away in the corner. Jair has seen enough, he comes in and pulls Luke into the middle of the ring with a Japanese arm drag. Luke keeps the cigarette tucked in his mouth as Jair is up before him. He waits on Luke and gives him a scoop slam! Luke holds his back but he’s back up and into the corner. He wants a tag from PAUL MALL but Paul don’t want to tag in because he’s smoking on his cigarette. Luke points he has his in his mouth.

JOHNSON: “It seems Paul doesn’t want to tag in because he hasn’t finished his cigarette.”

VASSA: “Well shit, have you seen the prices of cigarettes lately? I wouldn’t want to tag in either. Finish that baby off, Paul.”

Jair comes back into the corner for Luke and Jones grabs his head and puts the lit cigarette into his forehead! Jair yells out in pain as he falls away. Luke flicks his cigarette down at Jair and blows smoke into his face and begins stomping him. Cashe is reaching for the tag but Luke is isolating the ring. Jair turns his back and Luke hits a deadlift german, but because he smokes so much, Luke’s cardio is starting to get to him. He hacks and coughs and wants the tag but Paul Mall has lit another cigarette.

JOHNSON: “Luke Jones is pulling all of the work here for When the Smoke Clears, no clue why the referee didn’t DQ Jones there by using the cigarette.”

VASSA: “Paul Mall told me it’s a part of the uniform so they’re allowed to use their cigarettes as weapons—whatever damage they do to their opponents it isn’t going to reverse the damage they’re doing to themselves. Don’t smoke kids.”

Jair gets to his feet, and Luke is unable to get to him. Cashe is tagged in and he is fired up to get his hands on Luke. Luke dives out of the ring when Cashe is tagged in. Cashe throws his hand up and goes to give chase to Luke but Paul Mall gets the attention of The Troubled One by throwing an empty cigarette carton at him. It pops Cashe atop the head but it doesn’t really bother him. He heads towards Paul, Luke slides into the ring and cuts him off with a school boy roll up!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Cashe rolls all the way through! He boots Luke in the head. Luke reaches for a tag but Paul Mall is on his third cigarette of the match. He tells Luke he will be in there in just a moment. Cashe is vicious with Luke. He tosses him into he ropes and when Luke comes back, he hits a BELL CLAP! He follows it up with a side belly to belly! Luke rolls back to his feet and rushes at Cashe but Cashe launches himself with a headbutt that collapses Luke. Jason rubs the spot where he flung himself into Luke and then makes the pin fall with a back press!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON: “Well, all things considered. Luke Jones looks decent here tonight.”

VASSA: “That is one way to put it.”

Jones is really worn down now. Cashe twists his arm and brings Luke back over to the corner where Jair is. The two hall of famers show team work by keeping the fresh man in. They send Luke into the corner and give him two back elbows. Cashe and Jair do the hit ‘em high and hit ‘em low dance they were doing in their entrance and the crowd loves it. Paul Mall is finally fired up and is ready for a tag. He reaches for Luke but Jair hits a picture perfect drop kick on Luke. Luke rolls out onto the apron. He’s staggered. Jair rushes at him but Luke hits a knee to Jair sending him backwards. Jair holds his head and stumbles away.

JOHNSON: “This could be the opening that Luke needs to tag in Paul!”

VASSA: “Could we see the anticipated debut!”

Luke rushes and hits Cashe with a forearm to the head and knocks him off the apron, impressively flips into the ring and makes the HOT TAG TO PAUL MALL! Mall steps into the ring and begins showing his fists. Jair stands up and hits a RUNNING SUPER KICK ON PAUL! Paul flops over. Luke is spent over on the corner as Jair makes the tag to Cashe.

JOHNSON: “Paul Mall already in trouble!”

VASSA: “Still not as much trouble as his lungs are in!”

Jason springs into the ring and nods to Jair. He stalks Paul and hits the… TROUBLE MAKER! Paul is clutching his back after the sit out spinebuster. Cashe rolls backwards and tags in Jair, the two showing tremendous teamwork as Jair climbs the ropes and… OMFG! The double stomp to the chest and ribs of Paul.

JOHNSON: “They call it Omfg, Trouble. And that is what Paul Mall is in right now!”

Jair makes the cover and hooks the leg as Cashe stands over him daring Luke to step in. Meanwhile, Luke is still down on the apron since he worked most of the match without a break. In fact, he’s lit a cigarette.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here are your winners, WWOORRLLDDSSTTAARR!!!”

Cashe and Jair both raise one another hand with the referee in the ring. WorldStar rolls over When the Smoke Clears. They both go celebrate on opposite turnbuckles as Luke helps Paul Mall back to the locker room.

JOHNSON: “It was against a fairly new tag team, but man… WorldStar looks like they could very well be right back where they were at the start.”

VASSA: “This team can be SCARY good when they are on… Adrenaline… Octane… Battle Born… you’re on notice.”

We fade on World Star celebrating in the ring.

The cameras cut backstage to Alessandro Quagliaterre looking rather sad. He frowns into the camera on a absolute downer.

QUAGLIATERRE: “She stood me up.”

He sighed.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Now we were meant to see the lovely Kat Jones with me. And we were going to do this whole bit, with a bit of banter back and forth, and basically I was going to challenge her to a match at South Beach Brawl to take care of some business we need to pick up on from elsewhere.”

A place with a hightower where a cuck watched from above.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I regret to inform you all, that whole plan is up in the air at the moment. Because firstly, after we see Alexis Mercer absolutely destroy either a stunt double or the lost soul of Kat Jones after Alexis skinned a dog which was meant to be a cat, and let’s not get started on the idiocy of that. Secondly after this abysmal showing and effort she has put forth, is Kat Jones even worthy of making a PPV card if she can’t be bothered to show her true self for a run of the mill Adrenaline.”

He wondered.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Kat’s last sighting was almost ten days ago, after something about not wanting her butt to get pinched because she was wearing green. To do with St. Patrick’s Day, which I didn’t understand the logic behind that rule anyway, because basically you’re advocating and promoting sexual groping, because why else would you have a need to pinch someone’s butt? Unless you were a Professional Butt Inspector, and I looked it up, that’s not an actual thing.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

QUAGLIATERRE: “So after proclaiming for more than two months with funky codes that South Beach Brawl was going to be my time to ‘OWN THE NIGHT’. I’m left in limbo, with no clear path or clear cut journey on what my plans are as of right now. Wandering aimlessly.”

He let out another sigh.

QUAGLIATERRE: “If Kat Jones survives in a few moments time, or decides to return on the face of the planet from wherever she has disappeared too, then consider this an official challenge. Adrenaline Eighty-Three. I’m calling your bitch-ass out Kat Jones. Face me or Get Fucked. Choice is all yours.”

He blew a kiss into the camera.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Looking forward to see you or your stunt double get owned and boned by the Anti-Starlet. This match is going to be good. Up next FOLKS!”

UNDERCARD
ALEXIS MERCER VS. KAT JONES

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

Arena lights go down allowing spotlights to take over. The start of “Nightmare” by Nyxx plays over the sound system. Interference soon interrupts the live video feed and transitions where one minute there’s the upper-levels of the crowd and the next is a shadowy woman walking down a dark and empty hall. Within seconds, the Anti-Starlet logo appears across screens. Once everything gets back to normal Alexis appears in the audience before walking down the stairs heading toward the ring in a timely manner. Her eyes focused on the ring as she moved passed multiple hands from the audience in the arena.

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

VASSA: ”Do you think that not enough people pay attention to Alexis? I mean, she doesn’t have them all and she’s one of those crazy chicks in those C level horror films that sets you up to sacrifice you or something. Don’t you think that our lovely roster needs to keep in mind that she is insane in the brain?”

JOHNSON: ”To be fair, there are plenty of professional wrestlers employed by the company that are creepy to the point where I don’t think Alexis’ level of creepy scores on a level high enough with the others. That doesn’t mean that she lacks talent because at the end of the day, it’s all about what goes on inside of that squared ring.”

VASSA: ”All I’m saying is that we probably should keep a better eye on her in case anything weird happens.”

JOHNSON: ”Now I’m starting to think that you’re just being sarcastic.”

Alexis reaches the barricade and stops. Her eyes survey her surroundings giving it one last glance while tightening her fingerless glove straps then with rather swift, the Anti-Starlet hops over the barricade. She starts circling the ring until reaching halfway and pulls herself up to the apron and enters the ring. Once there Alexis heads to her side of the ring and gets her upper body on the outside while swinging her lower half onto the middle rope, where she sits on the middle rope with her arms and legs crossed before the camera transitions back to the stage for her opponent of the night.

“Release me”

The two words from the Public Address system in the arena cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts. Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Cincinnati native of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.

“No remnants were ever found of it

Feeling the hot bile

With every fake smile

Though no evidence was ever found

It never went away completely”

Kat walks toward the ring, methodically and without much concern at all, regarding the insults and jeers thrown in her direction.

POWERS: “Making her way to the ring, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the ‘WildKat’… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”

“I try to hide from the unholy sound of it

Another day gone

Another night’s dawn”

Standing before the ring apron, Kat removes her black leather jacket, whips it behind her, releasing it and allowing it to sail toward the ramp, ultimately letting out a bloodcurdling scream, before she enters the ring and stops to stare down Alexis as she watches her approach to stand face to face with Kat with no amount of fear shown on her face. Kat smirks at Alexis, not needing Alexis to fear her but needing her to understand that she was going to be walking up out of here with the W and was not about to allow the likes of Alexis to thwart her plans for that.

VASSA: ”Another Wallace kid performing tonight but the question remains… how many of them will be successful tonight?

JOHNSON: ”I guess we’re going to find that out tonight.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Alexis and Kat dont lunge for each other at the sound of the bell, instead the two competitors circle around in the center of the ring as they stare down one another, Alexis stepping forward with a reaching arm while Kat steps back out of her reach before they circle around once more. This time Kat steps forward with the attempt to grab Alexis but no avail as she quickly steps back. Kat steps up again and Alexis ends up stepping forward to attack with a short arm clothesline with the first hit of the match.

JOHNSON: ”A good way to start things off and Alexis wastes no time taking control of the situation. I do have to say that Kat Jones won’t be an easy feat by any means to defeat tonight.”

VASSA: ”We have one of Perry’s twenty kids and then we have….. Alexis Mercer. I dont know who I want to root for, I’m not as invested as I am for the other matches.”

JOHNSON: ”Just pay attention to the match, Vinny.”

Alexis wasn’t appreciating the many bitch slaps that Kat was serving to her and had her right cheek good and rosy. Finally having enough, even though it took five slaps for Alexis to seemingly get to that point, Alexis jumps into action with a quick kick to the gut followed by a snap DDT to get Kat off her feet and then mounts her with punches in the face while the audience boos her. To be fair, the audience was booing them both and Vassa was actually interested in knowing who was getting booed the hardest.

At the moment, it was definitely tied as Alexis paid the audience no mind and continued her anger-filled assault on the struggling Kat who eventually begins covering her face to block the punches before swinging her arm to slap the cat piss out of Alexis and then shoving her off of her when the slap doesn’t knock Alexis off. Both ladies scramble onto their feet as they again begin to slowly step around in a circle to try to see who would make the first move but this time Alexis doesn’t play this ring around the rosie game and surprises Kat with a sudden dropkick to the face.

Alexis doesn’t stop there though as she quickly comes down on her opponent with a double leg drop and then leans down to flip off Kat, waving her middle finger in her face tauntingly and ends up stunned once Kat reaches up to grab that hand to jerk Alexis down to slap her on that same assaulted cheek from earlier. The stinging slap causes Alexis to take a step back and grab onto her cheek in which it gives Kat just enough time to get onto her feet and catch Alexis dead in the face with a superkick. Alexis goes down and Kat decides to take a chance and go for the cover.

ONE

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Alexis was quick on it before the referee could even get to two as Kat just gets back onto her feet while pulling Alexis up with her. Kat has Alexis in a headlock before she holds on tight as she runs forward and lands on her ass with a bulldog that got a small rise out of the males in the audience from the way her bosom bounces from the fall. Quick to get onto her feet, Alexis hurriedly pops up from the mat and ends up standing at the same time Kat does, catching a spinning heel kick that has Alexis back on the mat and Kat walking away with the look of victory in her eyes. Kat is leaning against the ropes as Alexis sits up holding her head and looking around in a slight daze when Kat suddenly sprints forward and dives gracefully like a swam over Alexis while grabbing her head during it and rolling neck snaps Alexis.

As soon as the back of Alexis’ head falls back onto the mat from how much pain Alexis seemed to be in, Kat gets confident and goes for a pin and ends up surprised when Alexis bends her leg back and kicks Kat in the face so hard that Kat ends up stumbling backwards until she falls on her ass. Not wasting any time, Alexis is on her feet and circles around to stand behind Kat to make it easier to avoid any surprise attacks as Alexis begins helping Kat onto her feet. Kat immediately begin swinging to keep Alexis somewhat at bay but Alexis doesn’t back down nor backs up, blocking as many hits as she can before having to break down her defense with a pele kick before finally making her move and after the perfect set up, Kat goes down with the Violent Disregard and now it’s Alexis’ turn to go for the cover as she’s hopefully for a three count.

ONE

.

.

TW–KICKOUT!!!

Alexis shows her dissatisfaction with a frown, really having thought she had Kat there while Kat doesn’t have time to dwell and uses Alexis being distracted by getting a two count to deliver a few backhand chops before wrapping her arms around Alexis. Alexis probably wishes she had wings from the way she goes flying from Kat’s overhead belly to belly suplex and even though she’s in pain, Alexis is hurriedly trying to get to her feet by using the ropes to assist her and once she does, she is being irish whipped right into the turnbuckle. Alexis back hits the turnbuckle hard and the pain she feels proves to be a distraction from the incoming Kat who handsprings back onto her feet and drives an elbow into Alexis.

VASSA: ”Think it’s safe to say that this Wallace kid will without a doubt be winning tonight, not sure how I feel about that. I don’t think I feel anything if I’m being honest.”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t be so quick to count out Alexis, Vinny because always remember that anything can happen.”

VASSA: ”Yeah… like Alexis losing, I think Kat might be too much for her.”

Alexis ends up proving Vassa’s words to be incorrect once she’s able to finally begin countering Kat’s next set of moves and gets lucky with a backbreaker that grants Alexis back a bit more of confidence she had lost throughout this match. Not wanting to be at end of another Kat assault, Alexis springs into action and starts focusing alot more in which she’s able to use some fancy foot work to throw Kat off when she tries to go on a slapping spree again and once she ducks Kat’s slap, she runs to bounce off the ropes and comes dashing back with 20 Eyes before Kat can even attack. Testing her luck, Alexis drops onto Kat as the referee is there and ready to begin the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Needing to stay focused and not lose her head over yet another failed pin attempt, Alexis tries to not let that get her down while concentrating on Kat who quickly pulls her in for a headlock as the two end up stepping to the side and even back with Kat tightening the hold and Alexis trying to break it until Kat’s back ends up touching the ropes. Turning them both so that their left sides were against the ropes, Kat breaks the headlock and starts trying to lift Alexis in a way that indicates that Kat is trying to flip her over the ropes. A strong elbow smash in the face has Kat letting go of Alexis and staggering backwards while Alexis steps forward to grab Kat. They two begin struggling with one another until Alexis drives a knee into Kat’s midsection and spins Kat around before grabbing her up and it’s night night for Kat when she goes down from Alexis’ Forever Night. Alexis is confident that this is finally it as she covers her for the third time tonight in what she hopes is her last.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”And here is your winner, ALEXIS MMEERRCCEERR!!!”

Vassa just sits there and stares at the ring, not believing that Kat didn’t beat Alexis as Alexis is grinning from the victory as the referee continues raising her hand into the air and Kat sits on the mat and seems to be in shock and complete disbelief that Alexis beat her.

Backstage the cameras catch up with the pair of Alessandro Quagliaterre and Aidan Carlisle, who are all set to have a match later in the show. Two Starbucks to go cups sit on the table between them, which is really just one of the sound equipment boxes turned on its side. AQ looks pleased enough, but Aidan appears to practically be in physical pain from sitting there for this coffee chat.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Look. I don’t understand all the hostility, Aidan. You’re always so uptight whenever I say something on social media, or my attempts to be friendly with you always seem to be received the wrong way. What gives? Why you gotta be a stuck up bitch all the time. Do you have some sort of unresolved daddy issues from your childhood which is still mentally scarring your ability to socialize with like anybody? Loosen up. Hang loose? You feel?”

Alessandro had poked her verbally and unaware of his provocative nature, a volcano was about to erupt. Maybe.

CARLISLE: “Are we done yet?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Woah. Calm down? Drink some coffee. Get some caffeine in your system and hopefully, you start being more chill”

Aidan seems to be doing everything possible to almost not even pay attention to him. Her foot taps either impatiently or in a tick, anything to distract from the unpleasant situation.

CARLISLE: “…Are we done now?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Let’s get down to business then. Later on tonight, me and you are going to lock horns. Now I know you’re a seasoned veteran. But I want you to prepare your face for when you lose. It’s good to plan ahead, that way there are no surprises when you’re disappointed.”

CARLISLE: “Yeah, sure. When you lose, got it.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “What do you mean when I lose? What the fuck Aidan I thought you were mellow?”

Aidan gives him a deadpan look, trying to decide whether or not he’s actually serious. Eventually, she seems to decide she doesn’t really want to know.

CARLISLE: “…So, are we done now?”

Alessandro sips on his coffee.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Lucky I got this coffee right now otherwise I would be seriously pissed.”

Aidan rubs at one temple, wondering if AQ actually even knows she’s there or not.

CARLISLE: “Yeah, sure.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Alright time out on the banter for one moment. Win. Lose. Or Draw. Afterward what are we going to do? What will be the fallout of our monkey mania.”

CARLISLE: “Nothing. This is literally the only time I will ever sit down and have coffee with you. You and your monkeys aside.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Monkeys? Oh no I’m not being judgemental. You see this is not the first time we are having coffee. I kind of did it against your consent when you were stone cold knocked out after winning the XTV Championship. Though the phantom 4CW HR department that may or may not exist were quick to intervene to prevent any funny business from happening. However, I was able to get a few strands of your hair. I then sent those strands to a Genealogist. And they confirmed that you… Aidan Carlisle. Are the direct descendant of monkeys.”

CARLISLE: “Yeah dude, whatever. I’m sure one of your personalities believe that happened. If that’s what you need.”

Aidan almost reaches for her cup of coffee, but then decides against it. It’s gone untouched since she sat down.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Nu-uh it’s totally true. I got them to do me too. I am the direct descendant of Sloths.”

CARLISLE: “That seems about right.”

Aidan looks around the hall, trying to find an escape route. AQ seems oblivious as he continues on.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Why animals? Good question. You know come to think of it, they may not have been a genealogist at all. I’m beginning to think they were simply a veterinarian, and that I got hustled out of $1000”

CARLISLE: “That also sounds right. So, we done now so you can go get back your money?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “$1000? That’s like toilet paper to me don’t worry. I’M RICH!”

Aidan was unimpressed.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Jesus Aidan. You’re a seriously tough crowd to work with. Earth to Aidan. Hello? Can you give me something, rather than being a suspicious Debbie?”

Before Aidan can continue.

QUAGLIATERRE: “NO WE ARE NOT FUCKING DONE YET. AND I KNOW YOUR NAME IS AIDAN IT’S A FIGURE OF SPEECH.”

Alessandro slurps more coffee.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I apologize that outburst was uncalled for, we cool now? This match tonight has got me as stressed as anything. Are you going to cheer up, because if you’re going to act up like the great depression up in here I might as well get a piece and blow my brains out right here right now?”

CARLISLE: “Is there honestly a point to this other than your incoherent babbling? I’d really rather be preparing for the match. It’s not like you won’t be having the same exact conversation with yourself whether I’m here or not.”

Alessandro held up his hand, wanting to ask a question.

QUAGLIATERRE: “I cannot say anything until you acknowledge my request.”

He waited for Aidan’s permission.

CARLISLE: “What request? You’ve been rambling about nothing since the moment I got here.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Actually Aidan. If you knew how to read people properly. You would have picked up on the fact that I ramble because I’m nervous. Your approval would mean everything to me. Even more so than the violence that is bound to happen between us later tonight. All I’m looking for is a friend. Mmmkay. I don’t know if you have noticed but not a lot of people like me. And while I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me. The truth is. I actually do. You’d find if you look below the surface, past all the bullshit. Past all the jibba jabba verbal diarrhea. Me and you, we’re more alike than you would know.”

He hoped that his honesty would allow a more open approach from Miss Carlisle. Unfortunately, he’d run himself into a “boy who cried wolf” situation and now all she saw was more bullshit attempting to get a rise out of her.

CARLISLE: “We’re actually nothing alike at all, which you’d know if you knew how to read people properly. I don’t know why we’re having this conversation in the first place, as it’s been entirely pointless, and I don’t know what it is you’re looking for me to approve of?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “That is clearly the buzz of the caffeine talking, so I will forgive you. We are having this conversation because deep down, as much as you can’t stand the sight of me. Secretly you’ve got a soft spot. Now I’m not saying that means any funky business is happening. What I’m saying is if you didn’t want to be here, you wouldn’t be here. But you are, which shows me that you are afraid. Afraid of letting the world in, because you’re hurting right now. And I can get it, I think. The mental scars have slashed you hard. You want to let it go, but somehow the universe is conspiring against you to prove the opposite.”

CARLISLE: “There is no secret anything. I rather openly find you annoying and self-absorbed. I agreed to this so you would finally shut up about it, and to give you the tiniest chance to change my opinion of you. Instead, you’ve done exactly what I expected and been the same condescending idiot, oblivious to literally anything and anyone else in the world around him, you’ve demonstrated every other time I’ve interacted with you. You lack the ability to see anything but yourself and what you want. I’ve entertained this charade long enough. It’s been entirely unproductive and unenlightening. Now, I’ve got better things to be doing.”

Aidan stood up from the makeshift “chair” she had arrived to find, coffee still untouched. Alessandro applauded.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Finally.”

He stood up along with Aidan.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Thank You Aidan. You gave me the truth. The cold hard truth. Now I’m sorry that I was unable to change your onion of me.”

He clearly misheard the word opinion, which Aidan was not too pleased about. However, she wasn’t willing to try to engage him any further.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Next time I will be sure to bring a bowl of water to prevent a crying onion. Because the maintenance of onions is important when used for food preparation. But I must say…”

He had already said enough, but he was going to keep going.

QUAGLIATERRE: “If I am doing as expected, you have me intrigued. Would you care to gander what I am going to do next? Because I guarantee you, it will not be what you thought?”

CARLISLE: “No, I don’t care to see what you’re going to do next. I am done here, whether you are or not.”

Aidan turned on one heel, putting her back to him, and starting to head toward the nearest hallway out of the area. Alessandro had assessed the situation slightly different to how Aidan had viewed the whole experience.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Well…”

He paused.

QUAGLIATERRE: “That was super productive. Can’t wait to continue this conversation later on when we face. Hopefully, she hears me out and doesn’t start beating me up. She’s reasonable right?”

Alessandro found himself talking to nobody.

QUAGLIATERRE: “What do you mean you’re out of hand towels???”

He seemed to move on to an entirely separate conversation with the voices in his head. The awkward tension of the situation was stifling, which even the recorded cameras began to feel, as they slowly panned away from Alessandro, leaving him to himself and his thoughts.

Jair pops into the picture backstage after cameras made their way from ringside to the backstage area. Jair, the look, his usual vibe was not there and for good reason. After what happened at 81, he was far from “happy-go-lucky”, “forget about the bs” that Jair sometimes be on. No tonight, he was staking out in the back alongside his two homies, Darron and Boogie.

BOOGIE: “We see that fool, we gonna drop him like a bad habit then I’ll tea-bag his “Tales Of The Crypt” lookin’ ass!”

Jair waived off all of that extra-ness from Boogie as Jair was aiming for a different direction it seemed, even after what occurred and the embarrassment.

HOPKINS: “Won’t be no need for all of that once I find him and get my hands on him. Getting stomped til’ he turn to Grits. Southern-style!”

Hopkins threw up the “Sssh!” with being quiet as he slowly glanced around the area.

HOPKINS: “If he comes through, we attack on sight. No let up! Straight South Central on the bitch, ya hear me?”

BOOGIE: “Sir yes, Sir!”

Darron was the one who didn’t actually follow suit. He held up his hand.

DARRON: “Wait, are we really expecting this goon to step through those doors over there? I mean come on! What, a trench coat wearin’ villian? Gotta expect the weirdo to come from the hidden depths of entrance holes.”

Boogie nodded his head.

BOOGIE: “Yeah he right, if we catch Old Man Viduus, does that mean we qualify as the new crew for the Mystery Time Machine and if so, who the hell gon’ be Scooby?!”

Both Jair and Darron laughed while pointing at Boogie.

HOPKINS: “You know that’s you. You eat everything, double-time! Look, just sit tight, see anything wild, cap off. Simple as that!”

They nodded as Hopkins stood his ground, just waiting on sight. Cameras left them there as the focus headed back to ringside.

UNDERCARD
BRENDEN MORGANSON VS. RORIE STEELE

The lights dim, as “Sex Metal Barbie” by In This Moment starts to play. As the music starts to pick up, lights flash with the stammering sounds. A female figure comes out, hands in the air. Lights stream up behind her, her front still dark. As the first verse is sang, she turns her back to the crowd, arms still up. She spins around through the lyrics in a seductive dance, her silhouette showing off every asset.

“You know I heard I don’t belong in this game

Still you hold your hands in the air screaming my name

Let’s go!”

The lights flash forward, showing Rorie in all of her glory. She smirks at the crowd, walking down to the ring.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Vancouver, British Columbia, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall! She is RORIE SSTTEEEELLEE!!!”

She teases a few fans of her choosing as she goes. She walks to the steps, climbing up. She slowly bends her body forward to get into the ring. When finally inside, she goes to each post, getting up on the turnbuckle to blow kisses to the crowd. You can tell already who Vassa wants to win the match as he checks out Rorie in her revealing ring gear and definitely likes what he sees. Who needs to go to a titty bar after a wrestling show when you got tig o bitties you can watch in action from the best seat in the house. Johnson just shakes his head at his partner while Rorie’s music dims out just when Brenden Morganson’s music overlaps when the opening guitar riff of Avenged Sevenfold’s “Hail to the King” erupts throughout the arena, sending the fans to their feet as they try to get a look at Brenden Morganson. With each cymbal strike, the lights pulsate and the cheering grows louder until, at last, Morganson steps onto the stage with his arms spread wide.

”Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head, save your life by keeping whispers unsaid…”

Morganson walks from one side to the other, waving to the crowd and clapping his hands above his head to the drums before he makes his way down to the ring, stopping occasionally to slap the hands of his fans.

POWERS: ”From Edmond, Oklahoma, weighing in at two hundred fifty-seven pounds, BRENDEN MMOORRGGAANNSSOONN!!!”

Once inside the ring, Brenden walks from corner to corner, stepping onto the second rope and raising his hands high above his head. He steps to the middle of the ring and begins preparing while Rorie just looks him up and down unimpressed and casually rolls her eyes as if he’s not going to be much of a challenge tonight. The double thumbs up from the positive thinking Brenden flares the audience up into loud cheers while Rorie keep her eyes on her opponent and sly steps forward slowly as the bell finally sounds and Rorie makes the first move.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: ”Doesn’t Rorie look great tonight? She’s dressed like a winner and everything, look at how she’s already taken control of the match.”

JOHNSON: ”I honestly don’t think you’re paying that attention to her moves but rather what she’s wearing.”

VASSA: ”All I’m saying is Brenden wouldn’t have been able to pull off that outfit if he came out here with it on.”

Johnson actually looks at his commentating partner while the referee is spinning from Rorie bumping into him to get to Brenden and she’s enjoying sliding Brenden’s face against the top rope with a face rake. Brenden manages to push Rorie off of him and as soon as he sprints forward, Rorie takes to the air to attack with a jumping calf kick to leave Brenden with little to no chance of getting his hands on her. The fans show their disdain for Rorie with a healthy fit of boos while Rorie just waves the audience off like they don’t matter and even takes it a step forward to stick her thumbs into the air to mock Brenden’s earlier taunt.

Finding it amusing and laughing to herself, Rorie mounts Brenden to grab the sides of his head to repeatedly slam back into the mat until he eventually rolls Rorie off of him and onto the mat, quickly getting onto his knees and going for her legs while he rises up and attempts to go for the sharpshooter until she crazily begins kicking to the point where he has no choice but to let go so he doesn’t end up getting kicked. He doesn’t allow her to get away scot free though as he quickly makes a grab for it once she’s onto her feet and now she’s in the air from his over the head belly to belly suplex that draws cheers and applause from the Corners Four fans.

Brenden assists Rorie with getting her onto her feet but before he could make his next move, here goes Rorie with a quick elbow drive into the abdomen and then her arm is hooking around his neck as she jumps into the air and takes him down with an implant DDT. The match is back in her favor now as Rorie gets Brenden to his feet and begins working him with a passion by going for more DDTs and even spinning headscissors before Brenden can even blink or even think about making a move against her. After the second reverse hurricanrana, Brenden is looking like he’s seeing stars and Rorie is seeing her W for the night as she goes for the Whore but ends up disappointed when Brenden quickly counters it.

JOHNSON: ”Rorie is putting in excellent work tonight and Brenden is just as impressive with not allowing anything to slow him down.”

VASSA: ”Rorie is showing more initiative than he is and he’s far from impressive in my eyes. “

JOHNSON: ”You’re just allowing Rorie’s assets cloud your judgement, Vinny but remember that she needs to rely on her wrestling ability to win this match.”

VASSA: ”Those assets could come in handy too, you think Brenden would be focused on the match if Rorie made her motor boat those bad boys? Instant win right there.”

Rorie bounces off the ropes and goes for a clothesline that Brendan dodges, Rorie’s back up plan seeming to be continue running until she bounces against the other set of ropes but Brenden has other plans in mind as he grabs the running Rorie by the arm and spins her around. Brenden attempts to grab Rorie but she punches him in the face and mouths off to him in which Brenden blocks another incoming swing and quickly grabs her up once more and even gives her a shake before he plants her to the mat with a jackhammer suplex. He contemplates something for a second and goes for it as he covers Rorie.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Brenden Morganson was a split second away from the three but Rorie got a shoulder up in the nick of time.”

VASSA: ”Thank god because Rorie has been carrying him this entire match and it would be a shame if he got over on her with something as simple as that.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny…. a jackhammer is NOT the same as a roll up pin and there is nothing simple about it.”

VASSA: ”Can’t believe you’re against Rorie tonight when she’s been in there breasting her ass off-.. I mean bouncing her… busting her as in there while Brenden has been doing nothing but going for cheap shots throughout the entire match.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m beginning to wonder if we’re even watching the same match right now.”

Brenden is rising from the mat after Rorie’s Springboard DDT and has to practically fight his way back onto his feet from Rorie’s repeated kicks in her attempts to make him stay down on the mat. He ends up grabbing her left foot and shoves her back so hard that she ends up falling onto her ass and finally manages to return to his feet. Rorie is up but is quickly down again from Brenden’s sudden spear that is so devastating that Rorie ends up on the mat gasping for air. Rorie is curled up in a ball on the mat and as soon as Brenden gets close enough, there goes Rorie rolling him up into a pin as the referee begins the count.

ONE

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

“YOU STUPID BITCH!!

One of Brenden’s male disgruntled fan yells out at Rorie’s blindside of a pin and seems more upset that she even attempted it over the fact that Brenden kicked out of it. Rorie bends over a bit as she holds her stomach from still feeling that spear but she refuses to allow that to get in the way of winning this match as she irish whips Brenden into the corner and attacks him with relentless punches and kicks, even goes for clawing at his face once the referee isn’t looking in an attempt to try to stay with the upper hand for the rest of the match. Brenden finally is able to shove her backwards and he jumps to sit on the turnbuckle to easily drive both of his feet into her face in a hard impact as she goes down and he goes up with standing on the turnbuckle.

Cheers fill the air as he goes for the Fatal Impact and stays on Rorie for the pin but the referee can’t even get a one count going because there goes Rorie driving her elbow to smash into the side of Brenden’s face twice and after failed attempts of trying to restrain her, Brenden has no choice but to roll off of Rorie as she rolls far away from him and doesn’t stop until she’s reached the ropes. Using the middle rope for guidance to get onto her knees and then reaching up for the top rope to help assist with pulling her to her feet, she keeps a clear eye out for her opponent who actually is starting to advance toward her.

Rorie suddenly gets hit with that ‘flight or fight’ feeling and she decides why not both as she takes off towards her opponent and leaps into the air to take him down with a crossbody. Brenden is down but not out as Rorie walks into a trap when he grabs her and lifts him up but he’s actually the one who ends up going down when Rorie counters into a tornado DDT. Vassa is showing his amazement by applauding Rorie’s efforts while Johnson can’t help but to glance over at his partner.

VASSA: ”That’s Hall Of Fame material right there, such a great work ethic.”

JOHNSON: ”Okay now you’re going too far. Just because a woman looks nice in ring gear doesn’t mean you should become brainwashed by it.”

VASSA: ”Nobody is brainwashed by anything, Steve, stop acting as if Rorie isn’t one of the greatest on this roster.”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t wait until you wake up tomorrow and remember all of what you’re saying tonight.”

The back of Brenden’s head slams into the turnbuckle post after a dropkick from Rorie and she scrambles to cover him as the referee goes for the pin to the chagrin of the 4CW fans who are booing loudly in case she has this match won.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: ”Oooooooo SO close! She’ll get him next time, no worries. He got lucky and there is no way he’s kicking out next time. For someone who hasn’t really busted their ass as much as Rorie has in this match, he’s sure been kicking out alot. I think the referee is counting slow… yeah I think we have a biased referee.”

JOHNSON: ”There was nothing wrong or off about the count, cut your bullshit.”

VASSA: ”You’re acting biased too, this entire match is a set up.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s amazing what a woman’s rack will do to a man. I can’t wait until this match is over with so you can be back as normal as you possibly could be.”

Rorie drives her knees into Brenden’s head while keeping him in that headlock. Everytime he attempts to rise up on his knees, those knees of Rorie’s get to action and even though nobody wants knees to the head like that, Vassa can’t help but imagine safer, non violent positions similar to the one that Brenden is in. She thinks she can go for her next move now, her mind on the Texas Cloverleaf but that’s a wrap once Brendan quickly backs away as soon as Rorie breaks the headlock and the staggering Brenden stands to his feet while holding his head. This causes a slow grin to spread across Rorie’s face and she feels that the match has finally reached its end.

She stalks Brenden now, smelling victory to be around the corner and near while she approaches her opponent and starts attacking him with quick kicks to the midsection and knees because she doesn’t want to do something hasty to cost it all so she remains focused and decides to not be impulsive. This match is hers, all she has to do is set it up right and its hers for the taken as she continues her assault and decides when she’ll go for the big finish but Brenden has already decided something of his own as his knee finds Rorie’s abdomen to catch her off guard and that’s all he needs to make his move and B-MORE BOMB! He goes for the pin as Vassa’s face falls with disappointment in feeling that this might indeed be over.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”And heeerrre is your winner.. BRENDEN MMOORRGGAANNSSOONN!!!”

Rorie is shocked, believing she definitely had Brenden towards the end of the match but Brenden proved to be quicker as his hand is raised and the audience cheer him with showing their happiness for the ending results. Johnson can’t help but chuckle at Vassa’s expression of not liking that Rorie lost until he stares at Rorie’s chest and all is right in the world for him at the moment.

Backstage, the camera cuts to Mariano Fernandez, already in his wrestling gear, in front of an unassuming hallway. No crazy pranks, no special guests, no costumes or anything silly. Just himself in front of an already rolling camera.

FERNANDEZ: “There have been many kingdoms throughout history, mang.”

He takes his hand to his chin in a thinking gesture.

FERNANDEZ: “There were times throughout the history of the world where lands, and riches, and people, were up for grabs, and so people seeking power went on to become kings, through fire and blood and steel if needed be. Attila the Hun. Charlemagne. Genghis Khan. Think of any that comes to mind, chicos.”

Mariano nods.

FERNANDEZ: “Now it seems we got some of them right here in the Corners Four, mang. We got some of the originals, the old guard, the very first names, that have been there from the beginning, trying to forge one such kingdom for themselves – Crooked Kingdom, they will call it, and my opponent tonight, Dakota Smith, counts himself among them.”

He throws his hands in an “I don’t know” gesture.

FERNANDEZ: “What stirred them to do that, mang? Why right NOW, after all they’ve done, they fancy themselves conquerors going after a kingdom they mean to reclaim? I’ll tell you why, chicos.”

He pauses, dramatically, for effect.

FERNANDEZ: “… Because that’s the only thing they have left.”

A complicit grin forms in his mouth, as he winks an eye.

FERNANDEZ: “But no king rules forever, and not all kingdoms are meant to stand the test of time, are they, chicos? Sooner or later, every kingdom must fall. The empire Charlemagne built did not outlive his successors, the Mongol Empire died with Genghis Khan, and nobody remembers the Huns after Attila’s death. And in that very same manner, there are few who remember Jason Cashe and Dakota Smith’s glory, mang.”

Manny cocks his head to the side.

FERNANDEZ: “… The two of them got together, got Jair and Cyrus to validate their claims, and out all went to make their mark, mang. Out they went, they thought, to reclaim the dominion they lost. Out they went to glory, to make Bronx Valescence and Anastasia Hayden feel their dominance over them…”

Mariano starts chuckling at the thought.

FERNANDEZ: “And the very next show, at the VERY first round of the South Beach Brawl Cup, the leader of the Crooked Kingdom fell at my hands, mang.”

Mariano slashes across the air with his hand, in a finish sign.

FERNANDEZ: “Any fool in the old days wanted to be a king, mang. Any fool in the old days thought it was enough to make a claim, no matter their lineage, no matter their wealth, no matter whatever they might have seen as their right, and the rest of the world would bow to them.”

He shuts his eyes, and shakes his head no.

FERNANDEZ: “But all it takes is a man, chicos, with a clear vision, an unyielding sense of purpose, and a greater hunger to drive him to bring any of these wannabe kings down, mang. And tonight I become that man.”

He balls his hand into a fist, and he punches at the camera.

FERNANDEZ: “Tonight I face one of the men who got the name of 4CW to be known worldwide – the dread of Aidan Carlisle and the killer of Felicity Banks. Tonight I face the man whose name was feared throughout 4CW for the longest recorded time – until the rise of Jair Hopkins, his fall to Elijah Carlson, and the resurgence of Bronx Valescence.”

FERNANDEZ: ”Tonight, I bring Dakota Smith down, and with him the kingdom he and his teammates set out to build and Retrograde. Jason Cashe was the beginning, and Dakota Smith will be the end. The end, chicos, of the old guard of 4CW’s desperate struggle to hold on to a shred of their former dignity, becoming just another speck of dust in the pages of history.”

He bumps his fists together, and points directly at the camera once more.

FERNANDEZ: “The Crooked Kingdom, Dakota, falls tonight. And while Tara may be the one to shed tears for your fall… ain’t nobody will be there to mourn it.”

And as he walks away, the camera fades to black.

UNDERCARD
AIDAN CARLISLE VS. ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE

POWERS: ”The following contest is a singles match and is scheduled for one fall…”

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

“This is war time, this is our time

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

This is go time, this is showtime

We will fight ’til their wills are broken

This is game time, and insane time

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

Find the power, to devour

Let the beast inside now be woken

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Hell’s Kitchen, New York, weighing in at one hundred forty-five pounds… 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.

VASSA: ”It’s Cashe’s thunder buddy with her thunder thighs!”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny it’s 2018 you can’t say that shit.”

VASSA: ”I’ll say whatever the hell I want to. I’ve earned this white privilege.”

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 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.

JOHNSON: ”You ever wonder what happened to make Alessandro such a weird guy?”

VASSA: ”I know what happened.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh yeah? What’s that?”

VASSA: ”Phe told him to get treated and checked him with that big ass forehead too hard.”

DING!!! DING!!!

At the sound of the bell the two circle the ring for a moment before Aidan quickly rushes at Alessandro. He lunges, trying knock her down with a big clothesline, but Aidan ducks under and continues toward the ropes, leaping and spring boarding off of the middle rope, flipping over in the air with a moonsault. Scouting it, AQ ducks his head low and steps forward quickly but behind him Aidan lands deftly on her feet. Thinking he had avoided taking early damage, AQ smirked and slowly turned back toward his opponent, expecting to find her laying on the mat in a bit of discomfort but instead he eats a big drop kick straight to the face from Carlisle who quickly goes for the cover, hooking the leg but Alessandro kicks out before the referee can even slap the mat a single time.

Standing, Aidan adjusts her position for just a moment and then drops an elbow down straight onto AQ’s sternum, kipping back up quickly before jumping and dropping a knee right to the same place where her elbow had just driven moments before. She then swung her leg over his chest, mounting him where she would begin to drive forearms into his jaw repeatedly, over and over again. Eventually, growing tired of simply beating her opponent into a stupor, Aidan pushes herself back to her feet and brings a dazed Quagliaterre up with her and then, as he stands there in a haze, Aidan blasts him with COUP DE GRACE! She keeps her leg placed across his chest and throat as the referee, a bit shocked, slides in to count the pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: ”Holy hell Alessandro just kicked out of the Coup de Grace!”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe it was just a bit too early in the match, even after hitting such a high impact maneuver, it seems Alessandro Quagliaterre had just too much left in the tank to go down that quickly or easily.”

VASSA: ”Alex Jones sister said Alessandro has never had any problems going down quickly.”

JOHNSON: ”SSSSShhhhheeeeeiiiiiiittttttttt.”

Shooting a glare at the referee, thinking that perhaps his count was a bit to slow, Aidan continues with her assault on Alessandro by dragging him up to his feet and quickly whipping him into the corner nearby. Taking off at full speed after him, as soon as Alessandro connects with the turnbuckle pads she’s there to follow up the impact with a leap that slams both of her knees straight into his chest. Carlisle then wraps her arms around Alessandros neck and for a moment his eyes flash with enjoyment, liking the position she’s in. That is until she leans back and pulls him forward as she falls back to the mat, using her legs to flip him over head. Tumbling through the air Quagliaterre crashes down to the canvas yet again. Again Aidan kipped back up and stalked around the ring, slowly closing in on her opponent as he began to get his way back up to his feet unsteadily.

BITCH BREAKER! Just as AQ got back up Aidan hit him with her patented inverted backbreaker, downing him near the corner. Hopping over him she climbed up to the bottom turnbuckle, then the middle and then the top turnbuckle before leaping off of the top rope and flipping over in the air, falling down gracefully to the place where Alessandro Quagliaterre had been laying a moment earlier. The second she had left her feet, however, he had rolled himself out of the ring and left Aidan to slam down stomach first onto the mat. Inside the ring the official implored Alessandro to get back into the ring but he was determined to take a few short moments to catch his breath and give himself the opportunity to get back into the match on somewhat even footing.

VASSA: ”AQ ate his wheaties this morning. If Aidan hit you with that back breaker you’d need a walker to get those old rickety bones moving for the next few weeks.”

JOHNSON: ”If she hit you with it, with all that fat you wouldn’t feel a damn thing.”

VASSA: ”Listen… I’m on day four of my Advocare twenty four day challenge and I am feeling TRIM AS FUCK STEVE!”

Rolling himself back into the ring, AQ pushed himself fully up to his feet just as Aidan was doing so. Just as she stood straight up, Alessandro caught her with a back fist and then stepped inside of her reach, wrapping his arms around her waist where he then lifted her up into the air and slammed her down to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. A hook of the leg didn’t get him anything close to a count as Aidan fired her shoulder up off of the mat. Her quick recovery, however, earned her a massive headbutt in retaliation from Quagliaterre who then hoisted her back up to her feet and sent her running into the ropes. On the rebound Aidan came charging back toward Alessandro just as Alessandro spun and then turned her completely inside out with a humongous lariat. Dropping to his knees he placed one arm across her throat, pinning her, while laying his head on her ample bosom, closing his eyes as if he was taking a nap.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

Just in time Aidan gets her shoulder up off the mat. Meanwhile Alessandro begins talking to himself, muttering under his breath with his brow furrowing in irritation. Whatever it is that he’s doing gives Aidan enough time to roll away from him and begin pulling herself back up. Perhaps he was having a conversation about how Aidan’s tiddies were much nicer to lay on than Phoenix’s had been beacause these weren’t A cups or whatever. Checked. Get treated. Anyway, with each passing moment where Alessandro isn’t fully paying attention to the match it gives Aidan more and more time to recover. Whatever it was that Alessandro was discussing privately, the conversation finally came to it’s conclusion and he turned back to continue attacking Aidan. Locking onto her, he whipped her quickly into the ropes. After she bounced off of them and came running back towards him he bent down, looking to hit a back body drop. Instead, Aidan swooped around him, floating over and… LITOST! She connects with a massive pile driver that completely lays Alessandro out. Rolling over onto him she covers!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Good God! Alessandro Quagliaterre is showing more fight than he’s shown since the night he turned Xavier Laroux into a potato!”

VASSA: ”You have to wonder if Aidan is asking herself the same question that Dakota was asking himself two weeks ago about her. How the hell can she get AQ to stay down?!”

Indeed the frustration seems to be evident on Aidan’s face that Alessandro won’t go away. Sitting up on her knees she rubs her neck, still feeling the effects of the big lariat he had hit her with minutes earlier in the match.Pushing herself up to her feet, she backed off into the corner and rested with her arms leaning against the top turnbuckle pad, confidently allowing Alessandro the time that he needed to get back up to his feet. As soon as he did, though, she charged at him and quickly brought him down with an AC SLAM! There was no cover after her version of the sling blade laid him out for a moment, primarily because the impact seemed to jolt AQ back to life, bringing himself up to a seated position and then gradually pushing himself up onto one knee. However, as he reached that single knee, Aidan came for him once again. Charging right at him she leapt, throwing her feet out in front of her, wrapping them around his neck before dragging him face first down to the mat. C1 C4! Yet again Aidan goes for the cover, pressing down on Alessandro’s shoulders as hard as she could manage.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON: ”Alessandro got his foot on the rope!”

VASSA: ”Wish the rope would get wrapped around his ne-“

JOHNSON: ”Whoooaaaa calm down there Jason Bourne.”

Somehow, after all the abuse, even as Aidan is climbing back to her feet Alessandro is doing the same. Aidan is quicker on the draw, backing off and beckoning Alessandro to get back to his feet completely. He does so near the corner and Aidan immediately rushes at him, looking for a spear. BUT THE SPEAR MISSES! Aidan flashes past Alessandro who stumbles out of the way and allows Aidan to go crashing between the top and middle turnbuckle pads, her shoulder slamming into the turnbuckle post. With his eyes lighting up, realizing the advantage has suddenly swung back in his favor, Alessandro pulls Aidan out of the corner and wraps his arms around her, squeezing her as tightly as he can in a bear hug he calls…

VASSA: ”DREAMCATCHER!”

Harder and harder he squeezes, burying his face between Aidan’s breasts as he does so, motor boating her. That’s enough to enrage the former XTV champion who suddenly sparks back to life. When Alessandro looks up at her she smashes her forehead down right into the bridge of his nose. The pain is enough to cause him to drop her and the moment that he does she swoops around behind him, pulling him down into a roll up pinning predicament!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

VASSA: ”What the hell?! After all those finishers he kicked out of and AQ gets beaten by a roll up?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen some weird things happening inside a 4CW ring lately. First it’s the drop kick of doom. And now we’ve just witnessed another roll up of death. What in the hell is going on in 4CW.”

Aidan, thankful to have finally put Alessandro Quagliaterre away, allows the referee to raise her arm in the air in victory as Mike Powers calls the result.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

Jerking her arm away from the referee she quickly rolled herself out of the ring and made her way toward the back just as Alessandro was getting back up to his feet, looking at the referee wondering what in the hell had just happened.

Backstage, locker room area – you know the drill. But this time instead of someone looking to shoot an interview, or give their thoughts on their upcoming match, we have Dakota Smith and Tara Michaels. Dakota is laying out on the ground, his arms stretched above his head as Peyton laid on his chest, chewing on her fingers. While Tara is nestled into the black couch only a few feet away, her cellphone in her hands as she swiped through her twitterfeed. Every few moments she would glance up at Dakota and Peyton, smiling to herself. Dakota was silent, his eyes closed, and his arms holding onto to Peyton as he tried his best to get mentally prepared for one of the biggest matches of the night.

MICHAELS: ”I could take her if you wanted.”

SMITH: ”It’s fine, You two being here… It reminds me that this isn’t the end all be all. It reminds me not to get lost out there in that ring, not to let myself lose track of what’s important. All those eyes out there on me, cheering me, booing me… There are only two sets of eyes that I give a fuck about – the rest could all fuckin’ burn.”

Peyton tries to chime into the conversation, but she really hasn’t figured out words all that well yet. Plus the hand in her mouth wasn’t doing her any favors. Dakota looks down at her on his chest and slightly laughs as he lays his head back down on the floor.

MICHAELS: ”You say that, but I know how much the 4CW championship means to you. How Obsessed you became with the thought of winning it back. That doesn’t just go away.”

Dakota turns his head so that he is now looking at Tara.

SMITH: ”I’m managing… Besides, you could take my place in this match, in this tournament if you wanted. I would love nothing more than to see Tara Michael’s as our new 4CW champion. Plus then you could peg the fuck out of Manny.”

MICHAELS: ”Oh i’m sure.”

SMITH: ”You think i’m kidding? I know how great you can be, I see it everyday in your eyes, that fire inside you… I just want to see you do everything that you thought you couldn’t. That red queen inside of you, demanding the blood of your enemies.”

It’s then that the couple gets interrupted by the door to the room suddenly opening. Cyrus Riddle walks in, his usual arrogant stride to his steps as he looks around the room with a smirk on his face. He steps on over to Tara and takes her hand in his kissing it.

RIDDLE: “Ms. Michaels, pleasure to see you as always.”

Tara makes a slight giggle before pulling her hand away, Dakota on the other hand Snarls as he pushes himself up, cradling Peyton in his arms before handing her over to Tara. He stands before Cyrus, his fellow Crooked Kingdom member and scans him up and down.

SMITH: ”Cyrus Riddle! Just the man I wanted to see!”

Riddle looked confused for a few seconds, as he was the one who came in unexpectedly.

RIDDLE: “Yeah Mate? Why is that?”

SMITH: ”Going to need you to chill back here, while i’m out there. Don’t trust the maggots lurking around these halls… Not with them.”

Dakota looks back over to Tara who doesn’t look very pleased with him.

MICHAELS: ”I don’t need a babysitter, I can handle myself.”

His eyes go wide, as he positions himself so that the camera can get a good look as his claw marked back.

SMITH: ”Who the fuck do you think you’re telling? I know, I am very much aware of how dangerous you are. But the fact still remains that there are people here, who would do whatever it takes to the me, as well as the CK crumble.”

Dakota takes a few steps towards Tara, bending over and kissing her forehead – before taking Peyton from her.

SMITH: ”Plus, this will give Peyton some quality time with her good ol’ cunt of an uncle Cyrus, Isn’t that right?”

Dakota hands Peyton over to Cyrus, who looks a little reluctant at first but quickly gets sucked in by the infants cuteness.

RIDDLE: “Of course man, That’s no problem at all. You know I got your back, you fuckin’ dickhead.”

Dakota laughs, Tara Laughs, Cyrus laughs, they all laugh! Dakota takes a seat next to Tara and looks up at Cyrus at Peyton.

SMITH: ”So what the fuck did you want anyways?”

Blink a few times Cyrus tries to remember why he came in here in the first place, after a few moments it would seem that the thought escaped him.

RIDDLE: “You know? I have no fuckin’ clue.”

MICHAELS: ”Well bravo Cyrus…”

Mockingly Tara slowly starts to clap her hands, as the scene slowly starts fading away into the next.

The Adrenaline feed cuts backstage to one of the designated locker rooms. Initially, we see Chris Madison sitting on a folding chair, bent over as he ties his boots. He sits upright and looks over to his right as Mark Storm steps into the frame. Both members of Invictus Fight Club are dressed for action, ready to participate in their second round matches in the South Beach Brawl Cup. Madison rises to his feet and greets his partner with a light fist bump.

MADISON: “How ya feelin’?”

STORM: “Anxious… Ready to get out there.”

Mark nods his head as he cracks the knuckles in his hands by making a fist and pushing with the palm of his other hand.

MADISON: “Don’t put any added pressure on yourself. Andre Holmes is hungry. I can see it in his eyes, just how bad he wants this win. You need to be focused on him, solely him, and be ready for the fight of your life!”

Mark looks at him, a smile taking over his face.

STORM: “How about you, man? You’re in the same spot as I am. How you feeling?”

MADISON: “I feel good. Ana is goin’ to push me to my limits, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s one of the best out there right now, not just in 4CW, but in the entire industry! Luckily for me, I think she’s losin’ sight of just how good I am. It’s not often that I’m overlooked, but it’s as if she thinks she has already punched her ticket to a title match in two weeks against Bronx – that’s if he even gets passed Genie tonight.”

Chris smirks as he folds his arms over one another across his chest.

STORM: “Whatever happens out there… whether one of us goes on and wins this thing, or if we don’t make it… Invictus Fight Club.”

There’s a roar coming from the main arena at the mention of “Invictus Fight Club”, it forces Storm to pause after finishing his sentence, pause longer than he would’ve liked to anyway.

STORM: “We’re not going anywhere, right?”

He asked, a knowing smile beginning to stretch.

MADISON: “We were so close at Retrograde.”

Chris lowers his head momentarily, still obviously unhappy with the result of their first chance to capture the 4CW Tag Team Championships.

MADISON: “Battle Born, Cosmo and Jeb, they’re a hell of a tag team but they took advantage of the moment. They beat Amber Ryan and Boston, two people who shouldn’t have even been in the match. They had no will to fight! Regardless of how the South Beach Brawl Cup plays out… Even if it’s you and me in the finals… Invictus Fight Club will continue to fight strong and hunt for those tag team championships!”

Mark nods his head, knowing full well that it could go down to himself and Madison, if things go their way. Nevertheless, he can’t help but smile at the thought of it though, going toe to toe with one of your best friends, your partner, and on top of that teaming again to go for the tag titles.

STORM: “Sounds like a plan.”

He says simply, and the two engage in another fist bump before the scene gradually fades to black.

UNDERCARD
KIMITSU ZOMBIE VS. VIDUUS MORTA

As “Cry Little Sister” begins its slow pace the lights in the arena drop. Fire outlines the stage and ramp entrance way to the ring. Viduus appears at the top of the stage through a cloud of smoke, looking left and a glance to the right.

POWERS: ”Introducing first… from Parts Unknown, weighing in a one hundred and ninety five pounds… VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”

He waits for the music to pick up pace before continuing his walk to the ring. He slithers inside under the bottom rope and crawls to a nearby corner as he awaits his opponent.

JOHNSON: ”Now this one is an interesting one, folks. We’ve got Kimitsu Zombie, who’s probably still hurting from losing out on that XTV Championship contendership match a fortnight ago against Nurse Kinsley, going toe to toe with Viduus Morta.”

VASSA: ”Viduus is going to be the fresher out of the two having had the week off and I’m sure he’s going to be looking to get back into the swing of things against Zombie.”

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

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

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

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

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

“MIGIKATA!

IREZUMI!

AGEKATA!

ZANZOU!”

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

JOHNSON: ”Kimitsu will be hoping to bounce back tonight here against Morta after that loss last week. It’s been a very up and down couple of months for Kimitsu, we’ve seen what she can do and we know that she can hang with the best of them. A win for her tonight will have her back on track.”

VASSA: ”But it ain’t going to be easy, Morta is an absolute animal and if Kimitsu wants to beat him tonight, she’s gonna have to throw every damn thing she has at him!”

DING!!! DING!!!

There goes the bell and this one is underway with both competitors beginning their routine circle around the ring. They watch each other, before Zombie turns around and faces the fans, pandering to them and get’s a good reception from them. It’s clear who the fans are going to be rooting for in this one. They approach one another and Zombie proposes that they lock up with their knuckles. But Morta has other ideas. He sends his knee into her mid section and she doubles over. He then grabs her and leans her against the turnbuckle, beginning an onslaught of sharp strikes, forearms to the head. He then attempts an Irish whip but she reverses, Morta bounces off of the ropes and barges Zombie down to the canvas with a shoulder. He stops, chuckling as a taunt before heading to the ropes again, he bounces off of them and has to hop over a grounded Zombie. He bounces off of the opposite set and Zombie kips up to her feet, limboing under his strike attempt and turning him around, a combination of strikes connecting that culminates with a spinning back kick to the mid section.

He clutches his gut and doubles over. She then runs to the ropes and bounces off of them, running low drop kick to the leg that forces Morta down to one knee. She’s back up and heading to the ropes again, looking for a second drop kick but Morta explodes back up and delivers one hell of a lariat, one that has Zombie flipping inside out and you seriously question whether she’s okay after that move! It’s sickening to watch, even if you are the biggest hardcore fan, you cringe at the sight of it. Morta then mounts on top of her for a lateral press pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

JOHNSON: ”Jesus, that was fucking brutal!”

VASSA: ”I told you man, Viduus isn’t playing around!

Getting to his feet, Viduus stands there for a moment and watches Zombie crawl over to the corner. He watches her carefully, following her as she uses the ropes by the corner to help herself up. He levels her, sending his elbows into the side of her head before bringing her away from the corner, looking for a brain buster but she manages to power herself down. She strikes him hard across the face, an impressive open palm strike that catches Morta off guard. He wasn’t expecting that. She pulls him by his hair and the referee doesn’t say anything, he just gives her a look as she leans him against the corner. She then runs to the opposite corner and preps herself, running back toward Morta and delivering a double knee to the chest. Morta crumbles out of the corner and lies on the canvas. This gives Zombie time to climb to the top rope and the fans are encouraging her to do it. Once she gets to the top rope, she turns herself around and takes a deep breath, checking her shoulder to make sure that Morta hasn’t moved. He hasn’t. She then goes for a moonsault, but right then Morta rolls out of the way! Lucky for Zombie, she lands on her feet and staggers a little. Turning around, Morta catches her with a spear to the mid section. He then mounts on top of her and delivers several clean and crisp strikes to the forehead. He gets to his feet and runs his fingers through his hair, a demonic look on his face as he slashes his throat with his thumb.

He grabs Zombie by her hair and Irish whips her to the ropes before taking off to the ropes himself. They both bounce off of them and meet each other in the ring with Morta looking for his signature but Zombie rolls out of the way. Morta turns around and Zombie comes back at him with a Sling Blade. She gets to her feet and lets out a roar, sticking her tongue out with the fans cheering her on. She then looks back at Zombie and runs at him, hurricanrana into a pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON: ”She almost stole the victory there with that hurricanrana into the pin!”

They both race to their feet and Kimitsu connects with an armdrag. They’re back up on their feet moments after and it’s another arm drag by Kimitsu. They return for a third time and Kimitsu goes for a third but he blocks it, headbutts her and she stumbles backwards into the ropes, coming off of them and a front drop kick has Morta stumbling back into the ropes himself, he comes off of them and looks for another lariat but she ducks, goes for a backslide pin but the referee doesn’t even bother to go down and count the pin as Morta rolls through, gets to his feet and sends his knee into the face of Zombie!

VASSA: ”By God!”

It’s one of those moment you won’t forget, one of those moments you hold onto the person beside you because you can’t help it. Morta chuckles and brings Zombie back up to her feet. She looks lifeless as he drapes her up onto his shoulders, looking for a powerbomb. But she begins to fight back. Punch after punch, hit after hit and he lowers and lowers, and then she’s back down on the canvas. He’s holding onto his head and Zombie catches him with a spinning back kick to the mid section. Elbow to the back follows, then a groin claw!

JOHNSON: “She’s going for it! She’s going for the ballsplex!”

But she can’t lift him. As much as she wants to, as much as she tries to, he isn’t budging. She lets go of him and staggers back a little, running toward him and Morta ducks under her strike attempt, wraps his arms around her waist and drops her with a German. He gets to his feet and waits for Zombie to get to her’s too. He’s in behind her, grabs her from behind setting up similiar to a scorpion death drop. He picks her up in the air drops her down to the canvas for the Awakening! He hooks her legs!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”And here is your winner… VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”

“Cry Little Sister” G Tom Mac plays through the arena and Morta remains on his knees. He looks up to the heavens before looking back down and recognizing a camera. He keeps a vacant face. The referee tries to hold his arm up in victory but he shoves him off before rolling to the outside and making his way to the back.

After the duel that Kimitsu Zombie and Viduus Morta showcased, it was over and for Jair & Company again, they were on the hunt…this time from the Gorilla Position. They crouched low in the dark corner, just waiting for the arrival as their eyes gazed up at the monitor watching their escape from the ring.

HOPKINS: “Stay in your position until that piece of shit enters through here.”

BOOGIE: ”Gotchu!”

The three watched on, waiting steadily in the crouched position. After a few moments more passed, entering the fray of the area, that long, sleeveless jacket and that top hat, it was Viduus and as they let him get a little distance passed the Gorilla position, heading into the hallway, the three pounced on the back of Morta, giving no break. Giving no space to try and scoot away. Kicks, punches and they tore off the jacket and the hat as it was a rather young white guy, cradled up in the fetal position, yelling.

HOPKINS: “What the fuck? This ain’t Viduus!”

DARRON: “Where the hell is he? He was just right there!”

GUY: “He told me to quickly put this on and the hat and ask no questions. Just walk.”

The look on Hopkins’s face, he was fooled yet again by Morta and his ‘games’. Wanted revenge wasn’t going so easy as the white guy got up and ran from the three. Beat up with kicks and punches, he ran a 4.3 out of existence.

BOOGIE: ”So this is how we gettin treated tonight huh? Like a side bitch, just keep getting skewed. Bitch is running. He knows he screwed up and is on the run!”

As if on cue, the trio looked up after hearing a whistled directed their way. There he was, Viduus Morta, a long dagger of a stare towards them before darting off to the exit. Jair, Boogie and Darron all ran towards him, looking to chase him down while the cameraman struggled to keep pace.

HOPKINS: “SHIT!”

DARRON: “Damn, he good! He’s really good at the “runaway child” skit!”

The three stood outside of the arena, hands on their hips as what they thought could chase down was untouchable. Morta got away out of thin air. Hopkins began smiling, nodding his head.

HOPKINS: “I got something. Remember that little thing we did earlier in the week? Yeah, I know a way to bring him to me!”

Hopkins made his way back into the arena as the two followed behind him as things returned back to ringside.

A hush comes over the crowd as Powers holds the microphone to his lips. He takes a deep breath with a slight shake to his head as if he never thought he would have to read a ring introduction off of a piece of paper

VASSA: ”This idiot forgot his lines.”

JOHNSON: ”I think he’s doing someone a favor.”

VASSA: ”Is this a live read for 4CW Radio?! Maybe he is going to tell us he will DM the link. You know it goes down in the DM, right?”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve heard you’re more than aware of that.”

POWERS: ”LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, born in CLEVELAND, OHIO and now residing in MANCHESTER, ENGLAND. He was your TWO TIME XTV Champion and the FIRST OCTANE CHAMPION. This is… BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

No music cue blares over the speakers, but Bryan Laughlin does emerge from behind the curtains. The fans cheer and immediately start a “PLEASE DONT GO” chant. Bryan walks up to the nearest camera in his BAELIN CLUB T-Shirt and leans in close

LAUGHLIN: ”Here goes nothing, folks.”

He makes his way down the ramp and makes sure to slap the hands of every fan reaching over the barrier. A smile grows on his face that nobody could wipe off as he continues around the ring greeting the fans and stopping to even take a selfie.

VASSA: ”These shows are long enough, how long does he get before we play him off with the orchestra?”

JOHNSON: ”We don’t have an orchestra?”

VASSA: ”We’re in South Carolina, we could find a drumline or something I am sure.”

Finally making his way into the ring Bryan embraces Powers with a giant hug and thanks him for the introduction before playfully trying to slip him a twenty dollar bill. Powers declines and graciously hands the microphone over to Laughlin as the fans begin to find their voice and chant for him to not go in unison.

LAUGHLIN: ”C’mon guys, there’s plenty of other guys and gals in the back that will still be here to entertain you. And I’m not Perry’s wife, so I am going to try and make this short and sweet.”

The crowd laugh along with him as he takes a deep breath and shakes his head looking around at the crowd who seem to actually embrace him after all this time.

LAUGHLIN: ”There comes a time in every athlete’s life where he has to look at himself in the mirror and wonder what he’s got left in the tank. Me? I did that not too long ago when I decided to come back to 4CW as an ambassador for the new brand Octane. I didn’t do it as a favor to Perry, or Walker. I didn’t do it to prove that I still had it in me, I did it for you guys. I came back because 4CW was readying themselves to accept new talents from around the world that very few have heard of and I considered myself somewhat of a bouncer at the bar. They had to prove themselves to you guys and most importantly me if they wanted to represent this company. Some of them have taken the opportunity and ran with it while others have flamed out. Hi Vossler.”

He playfully waves towards the camera and gives a wink

LAUGHLIN: ”I didn’t need a championship or to hand down a torch, but when that opportunity presented itself for me to climb the mountain I did it. Now, did I do it disguised as a homicidal clown? Yes. I did. But were you all entertained? My bank account seems to think so. You all embraced my and got behind me as the champion of Octane and for that I can never thank you enough. I wasn’t the champion for a long time, but I held that championship until someone came along worthy enough to knock me off of my throne. Now, you know the name Kaz Bonham and I know you will never forget her and you will get behind her more than you ever did for me because she deserves that. But now…”

Bryan chokes back a tear or two taking a deep breath and pulling the microphone away from his mouth smiling towards the fans who take every moment of his silence to chant please don’t go in hopes that they can change his mind.

LAUGHLIN: ”Now, you guys don’t need me anymore. 4CW has hit a golden era stride that is untouchable in this industry. New faces igniting the fiery passion that you all thrive off of. Old faces coming back because they know damn well this is the place to be again. And my place to be is at the side of my wife Kaelan. Supporting her as she hits her stride in this company and beyond. I will always be eternally grateful for the moments I’ve had here. I’ve shared blood shed with some of the bests of yesteryear and the names that are new. Guys like Tommy, and Seth Daniels. Jeb and Cosmo. Tornado Despacito, my wife Kaelan, Kaz, QT. I could on and on. So please, all I ask of you is that as I depart and leave behind those curtains for one last time that you get behind them and occasionally remember the good times I had out here. Remember the WARS I had with Jason Cashe.”

The fans begin to stir and look towards the entrance ramp and as Bryan was about to continue he notices their heads turning towards and does so himself. He walks towards the ropes and leans forward on them seeing what they were stirring about. Jason Cashe himself on the entrance ramp looking towards the ring with a smile on his face.

LAUGHLIN: ”How about that?! SPESSIAL MADE Jason Cashe, folks. Thanks for coming out man. I appreciate this a lot. I was going to say goodbye to you in the back after I stopped by to speak with Dako-”

Before Bryan can finish his sentence Dakota Smith emerges from the curtains as well and stands next to Jason. He gives Jason a head nod and then does the same towards Bryan.

LAUGHLIN: ”Listen, guys. If you two are leading a roster wall of goodbyes and trying to make me choke up out here remembering the good days when we beat the shit out of each other you might as well just bring the rest of them out here. C’mon out, guys!”

He waves his hands in assumption that the entire roster, led by the veteran Hall of Famers was coming to the ring to send him off with a pounding of the mat and handshakes to go around. The next out was Jair Hopkins and a huge smile grew on Bryan’s face as Jair stood next to his brothers in arms.

LAUGHLIN: ”Jair Hopkins. Hands down my proudest victory in this company. I got you on a night that most don’t remember man. You and I beat the SNOT out of each other. Thank you guys so much for this.”

The smile on Bryan’s face isn’t returned by the three men at the top of the ramp, more so Jair does not seem to share the sentiment expressed by Bryan as he slowly shakes his head and turns his back on the ring. Bryan raises an eyebrow as Dakota and Jason follow suit and do the same facing the curtains now instead of the ring.

LAUGHLIN: ”Is there a video packag-”

JOHNSON: ”Oh no!”

VASSA: ”I guess we won’t need a band to play him off, just a one man hook!”

CRRRRAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!

A steel chair slams across the back of Bryan Laughlin as he falls to his knees. CYRUS RIDDLE stands next to Laughlin as he looks up at him bewildered.

CRAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKK!!!

ANOTHER chair shot this time directly across the top of Bryan’s skull sends him down to the mat. Cyrus mounts Bryan and begins to throw VICIOUS closed fists directly to his forehead quickly busting him open and leaving blood dripping to the canvas. He begins to scream inaudible insults to Bryan as he reaches for the ring ropes in hopes of help or getting himself up. With Bryan down Cyrus quickly slides to the outside and looks underneath the ring before pulling out a table as the fans begin to shower the ring with boos along with the various debris that they’re throwing. Cyrus sets the table up in the corner as Bryan staggers to his feet only to be DECIMATED by a HUGE lariat to the back of his head.

JOHNSON: ”OH GOD and now Cyrus hits the DAYDREAMER!”

VASSA: ”More like a NIGHTMARE if you ask me.”

JOHNSON: ”I didn’t, and I certainly don’t remember Bryan Laughlin asking for this.”

VASSA: ”He was trailing on and on and nearly had me nodding off over here.”

Cyrus grabs the back of Bryan’s head and mashes it into the canvas leaving a pool of blood before picking him up and setting up near the table in the corner as KAELAN LAUGHLIN appears at the top of the entrance ramp and tries to get through the three man barricade at the top but none of them are letting her pass. They silently block her every move to get by them and she shoves each of them to no reaction. Tears begin to build in her eyes as she watches Cyrus lift Laughlin over his head with his leg hooked in a fisherman’s suplex before sending him CRASHING into the table.

JOHNSON: ”AND NOW LONDON BRIDGE?! SOMEONE STOP THIS!”

VASSA: ”It’s only fitting, Bryan and Kaelan did buy a property in England. Maybe this is just his housewarming gift?! It’s the thought that counts.”

Bryan lays lifeless tangled in the ropes and what was a table as Cyrus stands over him with a smile on his face. At the top of the ramp Kaelan pleads with Dakota, a known friend of Laughlin to let her by and when Dakota looks away from her she SLAPS him across the face. Cashe is amused and reaches foward to shake her hand for her bravery but Kaelan slaps it away leading Cashe to smell his hand and wonder what’s wrong with it. At this point Cyrus has dragged Bryan halfway up the entrance ramp and left him for dead. He walks through the barricade created by Crooked Kingdom which prompts the men to follow him back to the locker room.

Kaelan finally rushes to the side of her husband and try to pick him up as officials and the medical staff also make their way out to check on Laughlin who is still motionless.

The scene opens up to Andre Holmes in the locker room training for his upcoming match. Dressed in his in-ring attire with the leather hoodie over his head, he’s practicing his striking due to his impressive background in Mixed Martial Arts. What’s so important bout this match is the fact that this is the second round and he feels disrespected by people who chose Mark Storm over him. He slowly turns around to face the camera and has that disturbing look on his face.

HOLMES: ”This is it. This is what everyone has been waiting to see. Mark Storm versus Andre Holmes but not only is this a match, it’s a complete whirlwind waiting to spiral out of control. Everyone sided with Mark because they believe in his words but not his actions. They fall to their knees when they listen to him speak because he has that natural ability to tune your senses out and have you focus on him. He’s been doing it for ages and its because of that ability, he’s been able to become a world champion outside of 4CW.”

HOLMES: ”However, tonight will be a different story. Tonight everyone will see when words don’t matter and only action is needed. That’s where he’ll fail. He’ll rely on the best of wrestling talent but he doesn’t hone the skills of fighting to his last breath. Mark, I’ve been waiting to face you and I know you’ve been waiting to face me. You said you didn’t need this but deep down, you want this more than anyone but damn sure not more than me.”

HOLMES: ”This match will be the end of your journey in this tournament and the continuation of mine. So please bring everything you got because as I said before.”

HOLMES: ”You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain!”

With that said, he pushes the camera aside and the final shot is Andre Holmes walking out of the locker room with the camera fading to black.

UNDERCARD
SBBC ROUND TWO
MARK STORM VS. ANDRE HOLMES

The Colonial Life Arena in Columbia, South Carolina is excited to be apart of the Adrenaline experience of 4CW. This action packed episode features a highly anticipated match on the under card which is also the start of the many second-round matches of the South Beach Brawl Up. The cameras transition back to Vassa and Johnson sat behind the commentary table ready to call the action of the night.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Adrenaline and we have a match on our hands that’ll you definitely want to see. Our first second round match of the South Beach Brawl Cup features Mark Storm facing off against Andre Holmes. A true definition of a match featuring two men who are on the rise in 4CW colliding head to head to advance into the semi-finals!”

VASSA: ”And that man won’t be Andre Holmes. Listen Johnson, Mark Storm is ten times the better wrestler Andre Holmes will ever be. He’s faster, stronger and has way more experience outside the ring; Besides, he doesn’t take pride in abusing woman who beat him. Mark is the person motherfuckers should invest in if they want to be safe on a the right rookie getting a great career in the home of 4CW mothafucka’!”

JOHNSON: ”Well thank you for that ‘input’ Vassa. Mark Storm defeated Gavin Grimes and Andre Holmes defeated Johnny Evil to advance. One of their journeys will end here tonight. And a lot of people have chosen Mark Storm in their predictions; It must be true that he is your hero and mine. Andre took offense to that saying Mark is nothing but a gimmick and a theatrical person. So who will truly get the upper hand?”

VASSA: ”Ugh…Mark? He’s the best thing going in 4CW for people who are on the rise. He’s accomplished so much in the company and now he’s hear to ensure he becomes the next 4CW Champion. Fuck Andre Holmes! Fuck him to the point where his whole family will die!”

JOHNSON: ”Be careful! Well, no need to drag it on even longer. Here we go, Andre Holmes vs Mark Storm is next and lets give it over to Powers for the introductions!”

The camera transitions over to Powers inside the ring in his signature tuxedo with a microphone under his chin. He nods and raises the microphone up the lips after the bell sounds.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, this match the second round match of the South Beach Brawl Cup and it is scheduled for one fall!”

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.

JOHNSON: ”Andre Holmes is not only on the rise in 4CW but everywhere else such as CWC, SAP Wrestling and WXW. He’s showing that through hard work, determination and dedication, people will take notice of you if you continue to fight for what you believe in. I hope that thesis plays out tonight if he wants to win that bad!”

“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;

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 jeers of the audience.

POWERS: ”From New York, Brooklyn.. weighing in a two hundred and twenty pounds – Your Hero, and Mine.. MARK SSTTOORRMM!!!”

“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.”

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 boo’s and cheers coming from the audience, shaking his head sideways as he lowers it, before jumping into the ring.

Walking over to his designated corner and hoisting himself up onto the second ropes, a smirk upon his lips as he holds his arms up; his theme song slowly diminishing.

VASSA: ”Mark Fucking Storm! Too bad the Dogs of War couldn’t be here tonight but we all know Mark has this on fucking lock! Andre Holmes doesn’t have a chance in this match. This is all about Mark Storm so lets get this match on the mothafucking show!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Both competitors are in their corner warming up until circling the ring. This is a high-stakes match so both men want to dominate as much as they can. They lock up in the center and it’s a stalemate. Andre tries to push back, Mark tries to fight against and they remain stand still until Andre applies the Side Headlock. Suddenly, his opponent moves behind him with the right arm for the Hammerlock which has Holmes by surprise. He manages to slip past behind him applying the Hammerlock himself until Mark Snapmares him down onto his ass. A quick kick into the head is missed as Andre ducks back then kips up on the mat attempting a Spinning Back Kick that misses!

JOHNSON: ”Amazing back and forth already by Storm and Holmes. The two are so similar in styles but their personality is entirely different. Very interesting to see how the two personas will clash in the making of this match!”

Another lockup is made again and this time Mark has the Side Headlock. Andre shoves him back with him into the ropes and uses the spring to push him off. Upon the return, Mark bulldozes him into the canvas from a Shoulder Barge. He runs off to the side but Andre gets back up and takes him down with a quick Hurricanrana. After the landing, both men are back up on their feet. Holmes catches a Roundhouse Kick then counters into a Enguiziri Kick knocking Storm into the nearest corner. When his opponent charges into him, Storm explodes catching him in a Exploder Suplex into the turnbuckles!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Exploder Suplex into the turnbuckles! Andre’s body became nothing but a fucking battering ram. Here comes the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

Andre Holmes kicks out and Mark applies a simple Side Headlock on the ground. The referee gets denied the chance to call the match due to Holmes fighting against the submission. Mark helps him back up to his feet and switches over for the Snap Suplex. He lands him clean on the mat then gets back up on his feet with Andre in his grasp. He whips him into the ropes but Andre hops over the top rope to the apron begging Mark to come at him. Mark does and charges only to eat a Gamengiri Kick forcing him a few steps back for Andre to leap onto the top rope and put him down with a Springboard Clothesline taking him down!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Springboard Clothesline?! Someone needs to check the ropes because Andre must have loosened them for that height! Fucking unbelievable!”

He doesn’t go for the pin but rather complete the offense. When Mark sits up, he eats a Roundhouse Kick into his spine that makes him cringe. Andre runs to the ropes ahead of him, rebounds and knocks him down on his back from the Basement Dropkick! He rolls backwards onto his feet into the ropes from the momentum and now the audience sees Andre whip him into the nearest corner. Storm’s back gets glued to the turnbuckles in perfect position for Andre to slam him into a seated position from the Corner Clothesline then finish it up with a Running Corner Knee Strike!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”The famous trademarked move; “Trapped in the Corner”, of Andre Holmes. That Corner Clothesline followed by the Corner Knee can make anyone feel pain for ages. Here is his first pin attempt of the match!”

Mark rolls under the bottom rope to the apron edge. Andre follows him out to the apron and slowly helps him back up to his feet. Both men are trading elbow shots into both their heads until Holmes blocks one and catches him with another Gamengiri Kick pushing him back a few steps. The moment he walks up to Mark, Mark leaps up with a Bicycle Knee Strike into the chin of Andre Holmes knocking off the apron to his feet. The moment Andre turns around, Mark runs across the apron then leaps off for the Shooting Star Press colliding into Andre Holmes at ringside!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Shooting Star Press! Shooting Star Press from the apron down to ringside showcasing the athleticism and amazing work produced by Mark Storm!”

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Mark takes a few moments to get back up and drags Andre back inside the ring. He slowly helps Andre up to his feet then smacks him in the jaw with a powerful striking combination until turning him around from a Spinning Back Kick to the head. He attempts the Dragon Suplex but Andre breaks the hold and goes for a Rolling Elbow rocking Mark off his balance a little. Before Andre can make it to the ropes, Storm holds onto his tights then pulls him back in for the Half Nelson Suplex!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Not so fucking fast Andre Holmes! The Half Nelson Suplex coming into play and we have another pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

Andre kicks out of the pin attempt and Mark switches over to the Single Leg Boston Crab. Sat on his back, weight applied, leg in his grasp; He pulls back as much as he on the right leg trying to disable any chances of the Thrust Kick coming into play. Andre begs the referee not to call it, he starts dragging Mark over by the ropes and stretches his hand out to grab it but Mark pulls him all the way back into the center of the ring.

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

VASSA: ”Oh yeah, he’s gonna tap! Just do it Andre, nobody wants you in this tournament anyways!”

Andre rolls over onto his back and starts kicking Mark in the face until he lets go. Mark does giving his opponent enough time to stand up even though he is limping little on the right leg. Mark returns into him and clocks him in the chin with a Big Boot almost knocking him down; He runs to the ropes behind him, rebounds only to get scooped off the mat and driven down on his neck from the Michinoku Driver #2 from Andre Holmes. He pins him down with the shoulders on the mat!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Michinoku Driver #2! Andre Holmes is back in the mix and he’s ready to unleash the pain!”

Mark gets taken aback from the Michinoku Driver and gets back up only to suffer back-to-back clotheslines. Upon the last clothesline, Andre catches him with a Spinning Back Kick before launching him into the nearest unoccupied corner. A strong Avalanche into Mark’s open chest squashes him in the corner where he walks out to the center in a daze; Andre runs to the ropes ahead of him, rebounds and plants him down on the canvas spine first from the Leaping Neckbreaker!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE!”

JOHNSON: ”Leaping Neckbreaker! Leaping Neckbreaker does it after the striking combination Andre Holmes committed! And speaking of striking combinations, here comes Andre right now!”

The moment Storm stands on his knees, he starts eating back to back Roundhouse Kicks into the chest. The crowd is chanting ‘Yes, Yes, Yes’ until he pauses in the final kick to take a few steps back. Suddenly, he goes for the Tornado Kick but Mark ducks under it and clocks him in the chin with a Discus Elbow. He turns around from the blow where Mark attempts a German Suplex but Holmes flips over onto his feet. Andre then hugs him from behind and plants him down on his neck yet again with a Backdrop Driver!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”What is with Andre Holmes and people’s necks? He’s a fucking murderer in the ring! A Backdrop Driver out of nowhere, isn’t that move illegal in 4CW?!”

Not at all. Mark rolls out of the ring to gain some distance and Andre sees an opening. He runs to the ropes behind him, rebounds and dives through the top and bottom rope Spearing Mark in the chest all the way into the barricade. The Heat Seeking Missile lands than Andre rolls him right into the ring before following after him. Taking a page out of Mark’s book, he locks in the Sharpshooter and pulls back with the legs in his grasp. Storm starts dragging their bodies towards but mid-way, Andre transitions from the Sharpshooter all the way to the Muta Lock!

“PLEASE DON’T TAP! LETS GO STORM! PLEASE DON’T TAP! LETS GO STORM!”

VASSA: ”Woooooooooooow! Now Andre stealing moves?! The Muta Lock is one of Mark’s favorite! Come on referee, do something!”

Andre pulls upwards with Mark’s chin in his grasp but Mark keeps dragging them to the ropes and he gets the rope break! Holmes releases the hold off of him and takes refuge in the corner opposing the one Mark is in. The moment Mark gets up, Andre charges into him going for the Yakuza Kick but Mark ducks behind him and floors him down with the Dragon Suplex! Suprisingly, Holmes stands back up yelling at him to do it again but Mark charges at him and turns him inside out from the Lariat!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

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

JOHNSON: ”The Lariat after the Dragon Suplex! Andre Holmes has been turned inside out and I’m not surprised if he’s broken in half right now!”

There isn’t any pin attempt due to both men being down on the canvas. Columbia gets off their seats and praises both competitors for giving it their all. In a matter of moments, they’re back up facing each other forehead to forehead until exchanging strikes like a bunch of a madman. Neither man backs up until Mark stops the entire sequence with a flurry of Open Palm Strikes followed by a Spinning Back Kick nearly making Andre drop. He runs into the ropes behind him then rebounds only for Andre to lift him off the mat for a Uranage Backbreaker!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Uranage Backbreaker! Uranage Backbreaker! Andre is in setup position for the Yakuza Kick!”

And it happens. Mark gets back up in the corner only for Andre to charge across the ring and clap him in the jaw from the Yakuza Kick! Storm falls down on his back in the center of the ring and Holmes climbs up all the way to the top rope. With his back facing Mark, he leaps backwards in the air corkscrewing into a 450 flip for the Phoenix Splash but lands in the legs of Mark who applies the Triangle Choke. He tightens the grip around his opponent’s head then starts producing 12:6 elbow strikes on top of Andre’s head!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”He countered the Phoenix Splash into the Triangle Choke! I’ve never seen that before and he’s nearly busting Andre’s head open with those elbows!”

Mark continues to squeeze down on his head as tight as he can and Andre looks like he’s about to pass out. Suddenly, he stands on his knees, grips tightly onto his waist and manages to dead lift him into a Powerbomb position. One Powerbomb slams him down but Mark doesn’t let go, he dead lifts him again and does another Powerbomb where Mark almost lets go before lifting him up again. In an instant, he runs with Storm on his shoulders and Powerbombs him into the corner where he falls down onto his back out of it but Andre drops him on his chest for the pin attempt!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Bad Landing! Bad Landing! Bad Landing! The signature Bad Landing Powerbomb and here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

No! Mark kicks out of the pin attempt and Andre sits up on the canvas completely unaware of what just happened. a few minutes ago. It’s time to put this match to an end and he does so by staying in the corner stomping foot on the mat. When Storm stands up on his knees, Andre sidesteps and Mark ducks under the Thrust Kick. Holmes turns around and eats another Bicycle Knee that claps him right in the jaw. Getting turned around again, Mark gives him another Half Nelson Suplex that folds him up on the canvas all the way to his knees. In one last attempt, he runs to the ropes behind Andre, rebound and Bicycle Knee strikes him in the back of his head!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

VASSA: ”Bicycle Fucking Knee Strike to the back of his head! Andre Holmes doesn’t know where he’s at right now!”

Andre tries to get up but keeps collapsing down on the mat. Crawling on his hands and knees, he makes it to the center of the ring before getting locked in the Full Nelson again. Standing him up, Andre manages to use the last of his energy to break the hold off of him then leap backwards in the air for the Pele Kick until getting caught into the Tombstone Piledriver. Mark snaps down onto his knees spiking Andre on the mat before pinning him right then and there!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

STORM! STORM! STORM! STORM! STORM!”

VASSA: ”TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER! TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER! THIS IS IT! HE’S FUCKING DONE! HERE’S THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

Andre Holmes kicks out of the pin attempt and Mark stands on his knees nearly ripping hairs out of his head. He slowly gets back up on his feet and manages to drag Andre’s nearly lifeless body up before setting him up on the Electric Chair Position with one leg over the shoulder. He starts elbowing Mark in the head until slipping behind him where Mark claps him with a Back Elbow Strike keeping him still. This gives him enough time to run to the ropes, leap onto the middle rope and Springboard for a Moonsault but out of nowhere, Andre Thrust Kicks him in the head just as he was about to land and the entire audience goes crazy!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

VASSA: ”THRUST KICK! THRUST FUCKING KICK TO MARK STORM WHEN HE WAS ATTEMPTING THE SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT!”

JOHNSON: ”WOW! OH MY GOD! NOBODY EXPECTED THE THRUST KICK FINISHING MOVE DURING MARK STORM MID-AIR! HOLY MOLY! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“Relentless” by New Years Day replays around the interior of the arena. Mark Storm and Andre Holmes are both on the canvas receiving a standing ovation from the audience who enjoyed that match to the fullest. The referee checks on both men but they receive enough attention to where they can stand up for now. While Mark looks disappointed at Andre who got his arm raised by the referee, Andre taps him on the shoulder for a hand shake. The crowd even applauds them both as they shake hands and show a sign of respect with good sportmanship.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, ANDRE HHOOLLMMEESS!!!”

The camera focuses on one of the hallways backstage. Text on the right hand corner of the screen reveal that this footage is from earlier today before the show had gotten underway. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary as staff members are walking around carrying items and preparing for the show behind the scenes. Suddenly there is a distant noise down the hall of a group of people speaking all at once along with dozens of heavy footsteps. These noises get louder and louder, soon everyone in the hall stops what they are doing and turns their heads down the hall.

A group of media reporters emerge from the distance. The ones in the front have their back turned towards the camera and are literally walking backwards. They all seem to be surrounding somebody. Each reporter comes along with their own cameraman and there are flashes of lights coming from everywhere. The quiet and peaceful area backstage has now turned into a circus disrupting the staff from doing their job as they must move out of the way. The camera focusing on all of this gets closer and gets on the perfect angle to capture who these media personnel are crowding.

In the centre is James Shark and his sister-in-law Olivia Quinzel. It’s hard to hear exactly what questions are being thrown at James with everybody talking at once, but a few key words make it obvious they are asking him to confirm the rumors circulating his return to wrestling. Regardless, the questions recieve no answers as it is just background noise to the two of them.

SHARK: “Aye y’all niggas gotta move out the way forreal, Olivia clostropubic”

Olivia makes a face and side eyes James.

QUINZEL: “Claustrophobic?”

SHARK: “Yea that.”

She frowns and crosses her arms.

QUINZEL: “But I’m not.”

SHARK: “You Claustrophobic as fuck my baby. So much so that it’s makin’ me claustrophobic. Damn. Hold up.”

James halts in his tracks, causing everybody else to stop. He takes a few deep breaths and bends over slightly, placing his hands on his knees all dramatically. Olivia places her arms out and begins to distance the reporters and camera men away from James, including the person behind the 4cw camera.

QUINZEL: “Give my client some space!”

James groans out loud sounding annoyed. He postures up and glares at Olivia.

SHARK: “Your client? Shit now you really makin’ me sick. You not my manager. Please. For the thousandth time.”

QUINZEL: “Tough shit, I am. Mom said so.”

SHARK: “Nigga I don’t care what she said, she not my mom.”

QUINZEL: “She’ll beat your ass like she is if you don’t allow me to be.”

Olivia snaps back at James, leaving him speechless as he opens his mouth to try and rebuttal but can’t think of anything to say. He shakes his head and just waves her off, the two continue their walk down the hall awkwardly now as neither of them say a word to each other. Olivia gets out her phone and begins to text. She then puts her phone back into her purse and after a few minutes, James gets a notification on his phone. He unlocks his phone to see a text from his mother-in-law reading: “Olivia is your manager.” He looks at Olivia with his face all scrunched up in anger, in return she gives him the most innocent smile in the world. The reporters still crowd them shouting out questions. Finally, taking turns.

? ? ?: “James are you returning to wrestling?”

? ? ?: “James who are you here to visit this time?”

? ? ?: “James how would you fare in 4CW?”

SHARK: “How would my dick fare in your mother’s asshole my guy?”

? ? ?: “Uh… not very well I would imagine. She has quite a few anorectal disorders including itching, hemorrhoids, warts, lots of tear-”

QUINZEL: “OKAY! Thanks. Can we please find Perry’s office now?”

Olivia says aloud, interrupting the reporter and grabbing James by the arm, leading him away from all the media. Luckily they are not able to follow the two as the security in the building finally arrives and contains them. The only person still able to follow them is the 4CW camera man.

James yanks his arm away from Olivia.

SHARK: “Stop grabbin’ me damn. What you tryna do? Embarrass me on camera?”

QUINZEL: “No, trust me, you’ll have plenty of embarrassment on camera when you make your debut here.”

James frowns and stops walking, glaring at her. She slowly turns around and chuckles as they look at one another.

QUINZEL: “Come on, don’t start now yo-

James walks right up to her and gets right in her face, he talks in a low tone but the 4CW camera man behind them is still able to pick up the audio.

SHARK: “You STAY thinking I’m rushing this decision, like I ain’t ready or whatever, but I will slap the shit out of anybody on this roster and win with any method I want, however quickly I want to do it. These 4cw men and women? They the truth. Best group of people I seen do it, but they not me. The fuck you know about wrestling anyways?”

He continues to glare into her eyes as Olivia just cracks a smile, she pulls an envelope out of her purse and waves it at him.

SHARK: “I know enough, thanks, and as your manager, I think you need more time. I’ll let Perry know that this contract will get signed when we extend the date on this, plus the demands you want that he hasn’t met. Cool?”

She puts the envelope back in her purse as James just looks away silently, he thinks about what she says but stubbornly shakes his head.

SHARK: “The demands sure, but I’m ready.”

QUINZEL: “Ready for what?”

She reaches out and squeezes the belly fat he was hiding behind his shirt. He slaps her hand away and grabs her chin and squeezes that as she winces in pain due to how hard he is doing it.

SHARK: “Yo you got like a whole family of chins, do you name them all?”

She tries to reach up and grab his bald head to make fun of it but she can barely reach it, especially since he immaturely goes up on his tippy toes, still grabbing her chin. She palms his face and pushes it.

SHARK: “Ow stop you terrorist.”

He palms her face back, she begins to slap him in the face, he lets go of her chin and begins to slap her back on the arms and chest trying to get her off him.

SHARK: “Bruh stop I’m gonna tell your fucking mom”

She grabs his throat, and the two start yelling and cussing at one another, he starts pulling her hair, she then knees him in the balls. With James bent over slightly in pain, she gets him in a headlock. She attempts to give his bald head a nugee but he wraps his two arms around her body and tackles her forward. The two of them stumble into a door that must’ve not been fully closed because they crash right into it and it swings wide open, causing the two of them to fall right onto the floor of the inside of the room. They don’t care however and keep on fighting. Olivia is pulling on James’s ear while he is pinching her nose and threatening to get a swat team on her.

WALLACE: “What the hell is going on out here?! I guess James Shark forgot how to knock before entering. What are you two doing?”

The two stop when they hear the voice. They both look up to see Perry Wallace behind his desk, they were in his office. Olivia is the first one to get up, brushing her clothes off and fixing her hair. She scoffs at James.

QUINZEL: “Told you I’d find his office. Mr. Wallace, Hi, I do apologize for the entrance. My name is Olivia Quinzel and I’m-

SHARK: “She a hall of fame escort my guy. Nothin’ but five star reviews and she accept bitcoin.”

James says getting up to his feet. Olivia’s eyes grow wide and she looks at James in shock and anger at what he just called her.

SHARK: “Them demands I wanted that you ain’t include in my contract? It’s time to NIGGotiate. I brought her over here for you to do whatever you please. No charge. No time limit. It’s whatever. She just got an enema too so if you wanna slide in the backdoor it’s on you pimp.”

Olivia is still in shock, she looks at Perry then back at James, her fists clenched up, she has never been so offended in her life.

WALLACE: “An enema you say? That’s quite healthy of her, or something. I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I’m good on all that.”

Olivia turns to James. He looks back at her as if he is nobody to blame.

SHARK: “Aye. If he don’t want you it ain’t my fault. Follow DTF Perry.”

QUINZEL: “You son of a…”

She rushes right at him and tackles him into the door again, this time causing it to slam shut and block the viewers from seeing what is going on since the camera man is outside the door. It sounds like a war is going on in Perry’s office as Olivia and James fight. Perry can be heard yelling out: “Come on champ! I know you ain’t getting beat up on your first day!” as the scene then fades to black.

UNDERCARD
SBBC ROUND TWO
MARIANO FERNANDEZ VS. DAKOTA SMITH

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the South Beach Brawl Cup and is scheduled for one fall!”

The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.

problem?

“DOESN’T TAKE MUCH AND THAT’S MESSED UP

BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE DO A LOT OF SIMPLE SHIT TO IMPRESS US!”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring first, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds! From Buenos Aires, Argentina, by way of Miami, Florida… He is the former 4CW Champion, ‘THE GADFLY’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”

“… YOU CAN’T ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS IF YOU DON’T TAKE THAT CHANCE

SO GO PRY OPEN THAT TRUNK AND GET THOSE AMPS, YOU KNOW-“

The lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, Mariano is standing at the stage entrance, posing to the crowd going wild. He then beings striding decidedly and steadily to the ring.

“In the days of kings and queens I was a jester

Treat me like a god or they treat me like a leper

They see me move back and forth between both

I’m trying to find a balance

(No reason or rhyme!)”

Once he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he raises his fist to the air, receiving a HUGE crowd pop!

“I’m trying to find a balance, I’m trying to build a balance

(No reason or rhyme!)”

As the music and the lights come back to normal, Mariano grabs the microphone from Mike Powers.

FERNANDEZ: “FUS RO DAH!!!”

“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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

As he reaches the bottom of the ramp he comes to a complete halt, standing motionless with his face turned to the ground. Dakota’s 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 DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Rolling in under the bottom rope Dakota plants his fists into the mat and pushes himself, the deranged almost animalistic snarl still firmly on his face. Dakota 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.

JOHNSON: ”Up next we have our second South Beach Brawl Cup round two match of the evening.”

VASSA: ”As each round progresses the competition gets harder and harder. Two weeks ago Mariano was able to defeat Cashe to advance to round two. Will he have the same luck against another member of Crooked Kingdom?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s hard to tell exactly what way this match may go. Mariano has done the unthinkable in the past. We know what he’s capable of when the pressure is on.”

VASSA: ”We’ve also seen what happens when Dakota wants something bad enough. He doesn’t care for what’s right or wrong. I don’t care how many diapers he’s changing these days, he’s still The Butcher to me!”

JOHNSON: ”You might want to lower your voice. I have it on good authority that Dakota isn’t pleased with some of the things you’ve said about him recently. Remember what happened when you two had that face to face.”

VASSA: ”What, I’m just teasing is all. Yes, I remember him putting the fear of God in me. Luckily I have a hero at ringside with him tonight in Mariano Fernandez.”

JOHNSON: ”He also has the support of each and every one of these fans in the building tonight. His return has been nothing but welcoming and quite impressive in his first match back home.”

VASSA: ”If Mariano intends to stay in this tournament until the very end he needs to realize that the competition is going to get harder and harder over these next few rounds.”

JOHNSON: ”That goes for everyone still in the tournament. With sixteen people to start, we get to see some of the best matches ever with the pressure weighing down on people. Round by round, this entire tournament is a test to those involved.”

VASSA: ”It’s a good thing I’m not involved because I was always horrible at tests, even the easiest ones!”

JOHNSON: ”Oh yeah? That’s a surprise!”

VASSA: ”Love the sarcasm…”

DING!!! DING!!!

With the sound of the bell echoing throughout the arena, the match is off to a quick start as Mariano and Dakota waste no time and lock up in the center of the ring. Jerking Mariano’s head down, Dakota slams him face first onto his knee as he pops it up, knocking Mariano back a step. He then follows up with a solid kick to the knee, taking Mariano’s leg out from under him as he drops one knee to the mat. Turning the opposite direction, Dakota rushes to the ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, he levels Mariano with a running knee to the face, knocking him backwards and flat on his back.

Stepping his foot down onto Mariano’s throat, Dakota begins choking him with all of his weight on that single foot. Although Dakota seems to be having a wonderful time watching Mariano squirm beneath him, the official isn’t quite fond of the illegal choke. Cautiously, the official intervenes, backing Dakota away and giving him a warning as if he were even afraid of Dakota. Dakota just nods his head, watching Mariano slowly climb back to his feet as if the words from the official aren’t even heard. As Mariano stands, Dakota brushes by the official and charges straight towards him. Dakota goes for a running headbutt, but what he receives is highly unexpected. Ducking down, Mariano braces himself as Dakota runs into him before standing straight up and lifting Dakota off his feet. Up and over, Dakota crashes to the mat with a thud.

Dakota begins to push himself up and as he does, Mariano turns to the rope. Bouncing off, Mariano picks up even more speed before leaping forward and hitting Dakota with a flying forearm to the head just as he stands. Stumbling into the nearby corner, Dakota grabs the top ropes, holding himself up. Rushing in, Mariano then nearly takes his head off with a running clothesline. Dakota’s feet lift up from the mat and as they set back down, Mariano unloads with a fury of lefts and rights to Dakota’s stomach. Each punch knocks a bit of air from Dakota’s lungs until he’s completely out of breath. Lifting Dakota up, Mariano sits him on the top of the corner before climbing up as well. Looking out over the arena, Mariano hears the fans cheering him on and then the noise level grows even louder when he jumps up, wraps his legs around Dakota’s head, and flips him off the corner with a hurricanrana.

JOHNSON: ”Things weren’t looking great for Mariano at the start but he’s quickly turned things around here.”

VASSA: ”Thank the official for that. Had he just stood by and allowed Dakota to choke him, I’m not so sure he’d be the one in control at this point.”

JOHNSON: ”Mariano was given a second chance early and he took advantage of it.”

VASSA: ”Sometimes a second chance is all anyone needs.”

Mariano crawls over to Dakota, laying across his body and hooking his leg. Racing over beside them, the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

Popping a shoulder up from the mat, Dakota breaks the count just before the two. Wasting no time at all, Mariano quickly pushes himself back to his feet and begins stomping down onto Dakota’s knee before he can even begin to get up. Grabbing both of Dakota’s legs, Mariano then goes to apply a sharpshooter but instead he receives a boot to the face from Dakota. Stumbling back, Mariano finally settles his feet and straight ahead, Dakota has popped up and is charging right at him. Dakota kicks his foot up straight for Mariano’s mid section. Quick to react, Mariano catches his foot before the impact, pulling him in before taking him down to the mat with a dragon screw leg whip.

Dakota doesn’t stay down long. He quickly pushes himself up and as he does, Mariano runs right at him. Popping up, Dakota takes a swing at Mariano’s head but misses as #DaTrollGuy ducks underneath it. Hitting the ropes, Mariano bounces off and just as Dakota turns to face him, Mariano jumps into the air, wrapping his legs around Dakota’s head and flipping him through the air and across the ring with a head scissors takedown. Dakota still doesn’t stay down long. He pushes himself up but not before Mariano. This time, Dakota charges for Mariano, going for a desperate clothesline but instead having his arm grabbed. Mariano swings his body around, pulling Dakota in and then throwing him to the corner. As Dakota crashes into the corner, Mariano is right behind him, connecting with a rolling koppu kick. Taking a step back, Mariano then connects with a step-up enzuigiri, knocking Dakota up and over the top rope.

JOHNSON: ”The Gadfly!”

Dakota grabs onto the ropes, using them to guide himself to a crash landing on the apron. As Dakota slowly pulls himself up, Mariano quickly moves in, hitting him over the back with back to back forearms while still inside of the ring. Wrapping an arm around Dakota’s head, Mariano then grabs him with his other hand, lifting Dakota up and over the top rope. While upside down and in route to be suplexed, Dakota squirms out of Mariano’s hold, dropping to his feet behind Mariano. Slamming his head forward, Dakota hits Mariano with a headbutt to the back of the skull, knocking him forward into the ropes. Pressing Mariano’s face down onto the top rope, Dakota then drags him across it, giving him a rope burn, before stopping at the corner. Pulling Mariano’s head up, Dakota then slams it back down, face first into the turnbuckle.

Wrapping his hand around Mariano’s throat, Dakota then pulls him away from the corner before lifting him off his feet and slamming him to the canvas with a chokeslam. With his hand still wrapped tightly around Mariano’s throat, Dakota chokes the life out of him for a few second before standing tall and pulling Mariano back to his feet. Wrapping Mariano up with both arms, Dakota then lifts him up and throws him overhead with a belly to belly suplex straight into the corner. Mariano slides down the corner, crashing to the mat head first before his legs fold over him. Rolling Mariano over to his stomach, Dakota then lifts his upper body up by the arms. Holding Mariano up, Dakota then places a foot on the back of his head before curb stomping him face first into the turnbuckle again.

Mariano’s arms hang motionless as his head remains propped up on the lower turnbuckle. Licking his lips, Dakota stares down to him before grabbing his foot and dragging him away from the corner. Rolling Mariano over to his back, Dakota then drops down to his knees before making the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

As the officials hand begins its descent, Mariano kicks out, breaking up the pin. Whipping his head to the side, Dakota looks down into Mariano’s eyes before yelling fiercely. He then stands to his feet and begins kicking Mariano over and over in the ribs, eventually rolling him over to his stomach. Grabbing Mariano’s leg, Dakota lifts it as high as he can before slamming it down, driving Mariano’s knee into the mat over and over.

VASSA: ”I think Dakota is even more shocked than I am that Mariano was able to kick out of that pin.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know about shocked, but I would definitely say he’s angry. He’s going to break Mariano’s leg if he doesn’t let up.”

VASSA: ”Don’t worry! Dakota would never do such a thing with his delicate diaper changing hands.”

Holding Mariano’s leg, Dakota then shoots his attention to the announcers booth, looking straight into the eyes of Vinny.

VASSA: ”Oh fuck…”

JOHNSON: ”I think he heard you, Vin.”

VASSA: ”…”

Dakota stares at Vinny for a brief moment as Vinny lowers his head, afraid to look back to Dakota. Dakota softly chuckles, amused at how quickly Vinny changed his tone. This was the break that Mariano needed. Pulling his foot away from Dakota’s hands, Mariano rolls over to his back as Dakota jerks his head to look down to him. Before Dakota can do anything, Mariano then kicks his foot up, planting it in Dakota’s stomach. Dakota buckles over, taking a few steps away from Mariano, giving him the space he needed to climb to his feet.

With Dakota still hunched over, Mariano jumps into the air, wrapping an arm around his head before falling back to the mat and driving Dakota’s head into the canvas with a jumping DDT! Dakota rolls over to his back as Mariano rises to his feet. Hopping over Dakota’s body, Mariano runs to the ropes before leaping and landing his feet onto the middle one. He springboards off, flipping backwards through the air and landing across Dakota with a moonsault. Instead of getting back up, Mariano remained on top of Dakota and unloaded with rapid rights to Dakota’s head. One after the other, Mariano pounds away at him.

Pushing himself up, Mariano then circled Dakota as he remained down. He then begins chanting over and over until eventually the crowd joins in.

“FUS RO DAH! … FUS RO DAH! … FUS RO DAH! … FUS RO DAH! … FUS RO DAH!”

Mariano then pulls Dakota up to his feet, wrapping an arm around his head. He grabs Dakota’s waistband before lifting him up into the air, upside down.

VASSA: ”This might be it!”

JOHNSON: ”THE DOVAHK–“

Slipping from Mariano’s hold, Dakota drops down to his feet behind Mariano for the second time. With no delay whatsoever, Dakota locks a full nelson on Mariano before he can react.

VASSA: ”Oh no, Dakota slipped out.”

JOHNSON: ”Just in time before Mariano could drop him on his head with the Dovahkiin Driver.”

Mariano squirms to get out of the full nelson Dakota has him in but he can’t. However, the fight he’s giving Dakota is enough to keep his feet on the mat. Resorting to plan B, Dakota then pushes Mariano forward while keeping the full nelson in tact. He slams Mariano chest first into the corner before stepping back and jerking Mariano away from the corner. The impact alone was enough to give Dakota a small window and a small window is all Dakota needed. Lifting Mariano off his feet with the full nelson, Dakota then slams him down head first onto his knee.

VASSA: ”Holy fu–“

JOHNSON: ”GOREWHORE!!!”

VASSA: ”I LOVE WHORES!!!”

The back of Mariano’s head bounces off of Dakota’s knee as he rolls over to his side and falls face down to the mat. Dropping to his knee, Dakota stares down at Mariano for a brief moment, breathing heavily with a grin on his face. Rolling Mariano over to his back, Dakota then covers him and hooks a leg as the official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”You may love whores but I can guarantee that isn’t one you would get along with too well.”

VASSA: ”I like the kind you pay for services rendered. I want no part of Dakota’s Gorewhore whatsoever.”

“Welcome To Hell” hits the speakers as Dakota slowly rises to his feet. Stepping in beside him, the official grabs his arm before hoisting it into the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Dakota jerks his arm away from the official before turning to him. Immediately, the official rushes off, sliding underneath the ropes and exiting the ring. Dakota finds this amusing as he laughs to himself, pacing the ring around Mariano’s fallen body.

JOHNSON: ”There you have it ladies and gentlemen, Dakota will be advancing to round three where he’ll face off against Andre Holmes.”

VASSA: ”He’s getting closer to his ‘heart’ step by step, round by round.”

JOHNSON: ”Mariano had all the hope in the world of defeating another member of Crooked Kingdom tonight but Dakota just wasn’t going to let that happen.”

VASSA: ”Dakota deals with enough shit and dirty diapers at home. He just couldn’t allow Mariano to shit on his chances of advancing to round three.”

And with that, Dakota’s eyes shoot over the booth, locking in on Vinny.

VASSA: ”Fuck…”

As his music continues to play, Dakota walks over to the ropes, leaning over the top and pointing dead at Vinny. He shouts a few words of displeasure as Vinny looks down, afraid to look up at Dakota.

JOHNSON: ”I told you, that smart mouth is going to get you into trouble one day.”

VASSA: ”Is he still pointing at me? I’m scared to look for myself.”

As things had not gone the way Jair had planned for his plot on revenge of Viduus Morta and the fact that Morta left the facilities, Jair was going to have to wait. Hopkins had a look on his face, internally fuming from the looks of it. He was seen backstage as the cameras had made their way back after the match at ringside. He was seen pacing back and forth, just by himself, hand on his chin, trying to figure things out. There was Gabriel Hartman, right on time in the right spot as he spotted a semi-pissed off Jair, which was always brought good content.

HARTMAN: “Jair, Jair, you have been seen all over, chasing, attacking the wrong folks, all for one person…Viduus Morta. Latest report is that he left the arena here. We all saw what happened to you last week. I saw it first-hand. I can sense your current state and valid reason for it but what can you do about it now?”

Jair looked at Hartman, a sarcastic smirk appearing on his face as he looked towards the camera before glaring back at Hartman.

HOPKINS: ”I’m gonna kill him. I’m done playing chase. He should have went and tightened that noose because he made a huge mistake in leaving me breathing. He made a serious mistake in letting me still walk and run. Viduus want to play those games, I got games too Gabriel. I got games too. I know what to do next!”

Hartman waited on further explanation to that statement Hopkins just made.

HARTMAN: “What is that?”

HOPKINS: “Simple. Make him come to me. I know that may be difficult for some but I got the Secret Sauce, Hartman.”

Hartman looked confused as ever to hearing Hopkins speak.

HARTMAN: ”I get the Secret Sauce but clearly confused.”

Hopkins nodded, laughing a bit.

HOPKINS: ”See, I got some things unraveled on the man they call Viduus Morta. Everyone don’t know much about him, if not nothing at all. Just he comes out in that top hat, that jacket and he tries to murder his opponent in the ring all while playing games with their mind. That goes for out of the ring as well but what folks don’t know is just how fragile he is.”

Hopkins kept going..

HOPKINS: “See, over the past week and a half after 81, I did some digging and I lucked up with some solid info and…and footage! Yes, footage of a special person in Viduus’s life and guess what, I sent it to the Producer’s truck out back and told them to air it when I give them the go. So without further adieu…check it out!”

The footage was clearly from various securities cameras judging by the black and white nature of the color and date and time stamp in the corners of the screen. The first view appears to be that of a hospital corridor; all we see is the back of a man walking down the hallway dressed in black jeans, black military style boots, and a jacket with a hood covering his head. The screen switches to the nurses station where nobody is present presumably because they are all doing their rounds. The back of the man appears again as he peers around a corner looking as if he was trying to hide; upon notice no one is at the station he walks passed it and into room 470. The footage now changes to a view in the room. The man is already seated in a chair with his face still hidden away by the hood. A woman lies in the bed, not moving at all, perhaps being kept alive on life support. She has stark white hair and appears to be in her seventies. If one would have stopped watching this scene right now they would say Jair has nothing but suddenly there was movement from the dark corner of the room.

Viduus Morta, dressed as we normally see him, emerges from the dark to stand at the side of the woman. He grabs her hand and holds it in his own for a moment as he stares at the woman’s face. He appears to say something as we can see his lips move but no sound comes out as he puts the palm of her hand up to his face. It is a solemn, almost loving scene that we have never be witness to before from Viduus that appeared to humanize him just slightly with the exception of his still abnormal appearance.

There were flowers and cards on her bedside table. Jair Hopkins obviously had done his homework this one as the camera slowly zoomed in on one of the cards. “Mother, On Your Birthday” the floral decorated front of the card read as our footage came to an end. As things pick back up with Hopkins and Hartman, Jair’s face is a full-on widespread smile as he just leaked unseen footage and know he had just shooken some souls, especially one in Viduus. Hopkins walked towards the camera lens with the mic, leaning into it.

HOPKINS: “Gotcha BITCH!”

Mimicking the legend, David Chapelle, Jair began laughing as he handed the mic back to Hartman, he walked off, still laughing, leaving Hartman speechless as the scene backstage was taken back to ringside for the next match.

UNDERCARD
XTV CHAMPIONSHIP
NO HOLDS BARRED

NURSE KINSLEY VS. CYRUS RIDDLE ©

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall and will be for the 4CW XTV Championship!”

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: ”Making her way to the ring, 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.

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.

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell rings and Kinsley and Riddle go straight for one another. Throwing punches as the fans come alive cheering. Afterall this is what they came to see. They throw punches until Riddle gets Kinsley pushed back against the ropes and immediately irish whips her across the ring. Kinsley catches herself on the ropes before she has a chance to go flying back, but Riddle goes running at her and clotheslines them both over the top rope. They both crash to the outside and at the moment Kinsley is laid out. Riddle is slow to his feet but he wastes no time in digging under the ring and finding a kendo stick. He starts striking Kinsley with it over and over, No real method to his madness just causing Kinsley pain wherever the kendo stick lands. Kinsley writhes on the floor in pain and Riddle’s assault stops when he finally breaks the kendo stick and he throws it away.

JOHNSON: “Cyrus Riddle said he was going to make the XTV Championship mean something, and he is making sure to show everyone what kind of brutal champion he really plans to be here tonight. He BROKE that Kendo Stick!

VASSA: “It was just a stick. Calm down

JOHNSON: “I know YOU of all people aren’t telling me to calm down!

VASSA: SHHHH… Cyrus is looking for another weapon.

JOHNSON: Unbelievable.

Back to the action outside of the ring. Sure enough Cyrus is looking for another weapon, and he pulls out a chair from under the ring. He walks over to Kinsley who’s slowly pulling herself to her feet. She’s trying to shake off the assault from the Kendo Stick. Cyrus goes to swing the chair but Kinsley delivers a kick straight to his gut and he doubles over. Kinsley climbs on top of the announcer table as Cyrus stands back up and goes to swing the chair again Kinsley jumps from the announce table and sends her feet straight forward knocking the chair into Cyrus face and making him fall backwards. His head smacks the side of the ring apron as he falls to the mat. Kinsley goes for the pin and the ref makes the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Kinsley shrugs and nods her head and punches Cyrus straight in the jaw to knock him backwards. Kinsley then walks over and dumps out a trash can full of weapons just sitting outside of the ring. She pulls out a barbed wire baseball bat with a smirk on her face.

JOHNSON: “I don’t like the look in Kinsley’s eyes right now. This woman is a seasoned deathmatch specialist. No Holds Barred might just be a walk in the park for her.

VASSA: Cyrus knows how to dish out the brutality as well. I think this is going to be one of the bloodiest XTV Title matches we’ve ever seen!

JOHNSON: “You might be right but lately the competitors in the XTV Championship matches are really coming out here and giving everything they got. Having a complete disregard for their lives and the lives of their opponents.

VASSA: Isn’t it great?! One of these times someone might actually die!!

JOHNSON: “I don’t know what your parents did to you as a child, but maybe you need some sessions with our new therapist.”

VASSA: “Been trying to get in to see her but every time I try to make an appointment Perry Wallace ass is in a session and I can hear… as Jett Wilder puts it, the OH GODS coming from inside. He must really have a lot of issues to work through. Probably needs it more than I do.

JOHNSON: “Right.. Back to the action. Kinsley is about to do some serious damage with that weapon.

Kinsley has made her way back over to Riddle with the barbed wire bat but he has recovered. She swings it and he catches it in his hand. Wrapping his arm around it. The barbed wire digging into the flesh of his arm and him staring at Kinsley as if he can’t even feel it as blood begins to drip slowly from his arm. The fans are going nuts and Cyrus smirks at Kinsley headbutting her so hard Phe would truly be fucking proud. Kinsley drops the bat in the process and Cyrus picks it up. He swings as Kinsley shakes off the cobwebs from the headbutt and she looks up just in time to catch the bat to the face. The barbed wire connects with her face and she’s instantly busted open as she falls to the mat. Dazed and confused Cyrus stands over top of Kinsley and applies a camel clutch, using the barbed wire bat to dig into Kinsley’s face more as she screams out. The ref asking if she gives up and she screams no after shaking her head only digs the barbed wire from the bat more into her face.

JOHNSON: “Normally a move like this would be banned but we are NO HOLDS BARRED BAYBAY.

VASSA: “I miss Bryan Williams already.”

JOHNSON: “What?”

Cyrus locks the hold in tighter but Kinsley refuses to give up. Cyrus eventually has enough of this and tosses the bat down and throws Kinsley to the ground. Rolling her over and making a quick pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Kinsley kicks out!

Cyrus slams his hands down on the mat but stands up and grabs Kinsley. He makes a dash to throw Kinsley into the barricade but she stops it and flips Cyrus over and sends him into the barricade instead. She wipes some blood out of her eyes and grabs a lead pipe from the pile of discarded weapons laying around the ring. She sees the barbed wire bat and rips a piece of the barbed wire from it. Tearing flesh on her hand but not even flinching about it as she wraps the lead pipe in barbed wire. As she does this she sees Cyrus rising from the mat and she delivers a powerful spinning wheel kick that sends him to the floor as she finishes the task of wrapping the barbed wire around the lead pipe. She walks over to Cyrus and locks her own Camel Clutch in to show Cyrus how it is done, only this time when he yells out she stuffs the lead pipe wrapped in barbed wire into his mouth and yanks it backwards. The barbed wire tearing the corners of his mouth.

JOHNSON: “Kinsley trying to give Cyrus a Glasgow Smile!

VASSA: OI! OI! OI!

JOHNSON: “She’s got that hold locked in. These two are trying to rip each other to pieces.

VASSA: “This is probably nothing to Cyrus. This is probably a typical Tuesday night in the dungeon of the Caste with Elena…Or. Wait. Is that Bryan Laughlin and Kaelan actually?!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know. His wife is backstage you want to ask her?

VASSA: “I would but I can’t understand Irish Trash.”

JOHNSON: “You can barely understand english.”

VASSA: “Gee thanks you F to the Aggot. You ruined my joke about Cyrus and Bryan being almost like the same person.”

Kinsley pulls back harder, unraveling some of the barbed wire from the pipe as she uses it to pull even more at the edges of Riddle’s mouth digging it into his cheeks as blood begins to rush from the cuts. Cyrus is somehow able to stand up with Kinsley on his back, still ripping his mouth with the barbed wire. Cyrus has no choice but to jump up and fall backwards flattening Kinsley with his entire body weight into the mat below her causing her hands to dislodge from his mouth. Cyrus stands up and removes the barbed wire from his mouth and turns to Kinsley he reaches down and Kinsley pulls the lead pipe up and bashes Cyrus in the face with it. He stumbles backwards into the ring apron and tries to shake it off as Kinsley rises to her feet. They both look exhausted but neither wants to give up.

JOHNSON: “Jesus Christ this match hasn’t even been in the ring the entire time.”

VASSA: “It’s been great. No better view than the one we have right now!

JOHNSON: “These two are not letting up on each other. I think this might be the match we see someone die!

VASSA: “If they die. They die. This is 4CW! We don’t give a shit!”

Kinsley goes to swing the lead pipe again and Cyrus ducks back into the ring. The lead pipe hits the ring apron but Kinsley slides into the ring as well. Standing up on shaky feet. She sees it before Cyrus does but Kimitsu Zombie begins to make her way out from behind the curtain. Kinsley and Kimi have a lot of heat and Cyrus turns when the fans began to make a lot of noise at seeing Kimi come out. She’s carrying a chair in her hand. She slides in the ring, and Kinsley sees the chair and she’s ready to defend herself. She knows Kimi is coming for her. Cyrus smirks and turns to Kinsley. He’s confident and just as he turns his back Kimi clocks him right in the skull with the chair he falls to the mat and Kinsley is shocked as Kimi strikes Cyrus a couple more times before dropping the chair and smirking at Kinsley before she exits the ring.

JOHNSON: “KIMI JUST RANG CYRUS BELL WITH THAT CHAIR! WHAT IS GOING ON?!?

VASSA: “Dumb bitches stick together now, because feminism and unicorns, or some shit. I don’t know. This is bullshit though… Look at Kinsley. Perfectly okay with stealing this XTV Championship match because of Kimi.

Kinsley is in shock but she realizes Cyrus is down and she goes for the quick pin. The ref gets down and makes the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

Cyrus can’t kick out. He’s not even conscious right now as Kinsley can’t believe that she is now the XTV Champion as the ref grabs the belt and she rises to her feet, covered in blood and is handed the belt with her hand raised in the air.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner and NEW XTV CHAMPION… NURSE KKIINNSSLLEEYY!!!”

JOHNSON: “Wow… I am stunned. Somehow I don’t think this is over between Riddle and Kinsley, and where does Kimi play into all of this?”

VASSA: “She fucked her dad! But for now we got a new XTV Champion. Seems this title is getting passed around the 4CW locker room more than Carmella Wilder.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny!”

VASSA: ”What? She does and I want a piece of that on my face!”

The camera opens up backstage to the back of Anastasia Hayden’s denim jacket, as she’s hopping in place like a fighter before their big bout. She turns around, greeting the camera with a smirk and holding up her index finger.

HAYDEN: ”One more round.”

She takes her sunglasses off, pocketing them, and wiping the smirk from her face as her eyes narrow.

HAYDEN: ”That’s been the mantra since day one. One. More. Round. Because that’s all it takes. That’s all I need. We can sit here and talk about the Chris Madison redemption story, but we need to be focusing on what’s important here. And that’s making sure that Bronx Valescence and Anastasia Hayden are meeting in round three. That’s what everyone wants and can you blame them?”

A shrug that’s far from being humble.

HAYDEN: ”I mean only minimum disrespect to Madison and Genie when I say that. Nobody is buying tickets to South Beach Brawl to watch anyone other than Anastasia Hayden or Bronx Valescence in that main event. That’s why tonight is more important than the next round. Tonight, Bronx and I have to go out there and fight for what’s going to be the biggest rematch in 4CW history. I made history when I was the first person to beat Bronx last year, Bronx made history be adding to his title reign after he defeated me at Retrograde…”

As her sentence trails off, there’s a bit of disappointment as Ana mentions her defeat, but she fights through it and looks ahead at the camera.

HAYDEN: ”Now it’s up to the both of us to make history one more time and that starts by defeating Chris Madison and Genie Carlson. That starts by backing up every one of our claims when we say we’re the best. And we’re not saying that based off the merits of petty title reigns, we’re basing that off the fact that everyone in the world is talking about us when we step into a ring. They know we’re the best, but they’re frail egos won’t let them admit it.”

Another shrug from Ana, knowing all too well about being egotistical.

HAYDEN: ”You’re not going to see me leaning back and resting on my Fate Championship because I know I’m better than that. Why would I base my potential off a championship that’s not even on Adrenaline anymore because the division was a complete joke? That’s thinking backwards. You know how many times I got to defend that championship?”

Again, Ana holds up her index finger, but there’s no smirk to accompany it this time.

HAYDEN: ”Once. Because in a 119 days, the only way for management to find a competitor worthy of my time was to send four wrestlers after me. I had to wrestle three matches in one go before I lost that belt. But I’m not going to reminisce on the past. I’m not guaranteeing a victory because of who I was, I’m guaranteeing a victory because of who I still am. And that’s the greatest wrestler on this fucking planet.”

Her smirk returns after her last sentence.

HAYDEN: ”Chris Madison had his time and that’s done. I appreciate that Madison is still willing to put up a fight, to still put up an illusion that he’s capable of what he’s once done. I’m sure he’s still got plenty of gas in the tank, but I’m not even eyeing having to use my reserves. I’m in the prime of my career and I’m not looking back. I’m not second guessing myself! I know that I’m going to see Bronx on April 11th and Chris Madison is not going to stop me!”

Ana’s eyes are bright with a passion as she glares into the camera.

HAYDEN: ”The Pride Championship defined you. Your undefeated streak defined you. But I’m not letting anything define me! I’m not ready to slow down! I’m still going, I’m still hitting as hard as I can, and I’m still giving a fuck when it comes to making sure that when I say I’m the best…I can fucking back it up! I’m constantly growing, I’m constantly getting better, and the day I second guess my abilities in that ring is the day you might as well kill me because I’ll have nothing left!”

Her words echo and she continues her silent glare to allow her sentence to digest before carrying on.

HAYDEN: ”So please, Madison, step up tonight! Step up and show that you’re not going to be defined by what you WERE. Prove me and everyone else wrong. Show us you’re not this old man looking back on what he should’ve done and that you’re instead an old man looking to shut this new generation up. I’m begging you to prove me wrong!”

There’s a genuine tone that accompanies her calling for some competition.

HAYDEN: ”Don’t let me down, Chris. Don’t be a fucking disappointment. And when that bell rings? Don’t let me get past you because the moment I do?”

Ana smiles a bit wider than before.

HAYDEN: ”April 11th.”

A wink before throwing her sunglasses back on, exiting the scene, but she pulls back in for a brief second, lowering the shades a bit.

HAYDEN: ”See you there, Bronx.”

Throwing up a shaka, Ana smirks once more before finally leaving the scene as the camera cuts elsewhere.

The stranger things remix to “Star Boy” hits, and usually Bronx comes sauntering out but this week it looks like he means business. He already has on his ring gear—a new pair of sunglasses as he heads down to the ring. His title is being held in one hand as he demands a microphone. As a stage hand jogs down to take it from him he rips it away from him and hits it a few times. The crowd gives the urgency a pop as Bronx walks over to the ropes and taps it foot a couple of times as he nods. He soaks in the reaction as his music dies down before he takes his place in the middle of the ring.

VALESCENCE: ”Week after week I come out here and I tell you people about my opponent. I tell you about how they’re going to be worthy champions if they’re able to knock me off. I’ve never came out here and claimed to be invincible. I’ve never came out here and claimed to be a god or tell each and everyone on the roster how I’m going to demolish them. I’ve kept my head down and I’ve worked hard because that is what I believe in. All of my life growing up I had shit handed to me. And when I got older I actually wanted to work for something. I wanted to grind, yet here I am… here I am sitting before you as the undisputed 4CW Champion.“

Bronx paced but then stopped and looked forward again.

VALESCENCE: ”And people hate it, you know? People would hate it no matter how I do it—and I’m not talking about you… the fans… I’m talking about the people in that locker room. The people I put over every single week. The people that I gave credit to when I fucking won this thing to begin with. And I stood in this ring, and I got down on my knees…“

He dropped down just as he did when he won, with the 4CW Championship spread out underneath him. He looked down at it as he spoke.

VALESCENCE: ”I PUT OVER EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU… I gave my credit to my peers and what other champion would have done that? NONE! NOT A SINGLE GODDAMN ONE! Everyone else makes it about themselves and I made it for the company. I made it for the ones who hate me and the ones who love me and the ones who are indifferent and the ones who are thinking about signing. I sat here, as low as I could possibly get and I thanked them. I thanked them for kicking my ass. I thanked them for pushing me to my limits. I THANKED THEM FOR MAKING ME BETTER! AND WHAT DO I GET IN RETURN?“

The crowd is quiet as Bronx lowers his head. He brushes his hair from his eyes before he looks back up to the camera as he tosses his sunglasses to the side.

VALESCENCE: ”I get beat up by the hall of famers and targeted because of my success and nothing else. I get disrespected and I get goaded. Why? Because now they’ve taken my kindness for weakness. Now… people like Genie are prodding and poking because they don’t think I’ll fight back. They think I’ll smile and I’ll just take it. Because now all of sudden with the championship on the line… Genie… all she can tweet about it how she’s going to be the next 4CW Champion… and that pisses me the fuck off.“

Bronx began pacing back and forth as he spoke.

VALESCENCE: ”I’ve given everything, every week. I’ve done it with no time off. And I don’t CARE if the people back there are getting tired of hearing it because there isn’t a mother fucker back there that has made the dates that I have and had the matches that I’ve had so they NEED to hear it. It’s real easy to say… I’M GUNNA BEAT THE 4CW CHAMP! When he’s three defenses deep in a span of six weeks. Where was this confidence when the title wasn’t on the line from Genie?“

He put on a questioned face.

VALESCENCE: ”Where was the shit talk? Where was the boastful confidence? That’s right… there wasn’t any. There wasn’t anything on the line for Genie so she chalked it up for a loss… and that is what makes me sick. Because if I dropped this fucking title and walked out the door… WHO WOULD PICK IT UP AND DO WHAT I’VE DONE?!“

Bronx pointed down at the championship.

VALESCENCE: ”Nobody, because everyone wants this belt for the accolade. If I wanted this for the accolade then I would have lost months ago. No, I want to raise the company with me… and isn’t that something someone used to preach? 4CW loyalty? And that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m putting 4CW first… not what I’m going to buy with the money I make for the defense. Not how much I’m going to celebrate because I won’t get to celebrate winning this belt until I’ve lost because that’s the type of person I am, and that’s what type of champion I’ve been. From the moment I’ve pinned whoever is coming after it… I’ve thought about how I’m going to survive my next defense… and if you don’t have that attitude? You won’t last.“

Finally he stood back up and pulled the 4CW Championship up with him.

VALESCENCE: ”Keep running your mouth Genie, keep poking the fucking bear… because win or lose tonight. I’ll be back, and if you play your cards right I’ll send you to be with your better half…“

He dropped the microphone, pointed his fingers forward in a gun as he shook and pulled the trigger as he dropped the microphone and walked away.

The cameras cut backstage to Genevie Carlson walking down the hallway with her arm locked with her husband Elijah Carlson. Her smile is wide as they talk and she kisses him on the cheek, and playfully wipes away the lipstick mark her kiss left on his cheek. She’s in her ring gear and she’s ready to go for her match against Bronx. She looks pretty relaxed but the 4CW Championship match was a big deal and nobody could be immune to the reality of what this match would entail.

G. CARLSON: “Thank you for coming here tonight with me. I know you just had a show and you’re probably worn out but it means a lot you came. Oh, and that you didn’t take that booking tonight either. Just to be here for me. You’re the best.”

E. CARLSON: “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world, you know that. Not for a night like tonight. No matter what happens.”

Other couples seemed to handle their travel schedules fine, even when they were apart for days on end. But the fact of the matter was that Eli was wrestling more now than he ever had when he had been exclusive to the 4CW roster and, as a result, he indeed was a good bit more tired than he could ever remember himself being before. There had been a time when he had wrestled with broken ribs, never taking any time off for himself and simply pushing through it with pills that quickly became a problem for him. Finding himself lost in his own thoughts, however, he quickly snapped himself back to reality and to giving his attention to his wife.

E. CARLSON: “Sorry. Just… thinking.”

A slight smile crossed his lips. It was easy and appreciative of his wife and her beauty. Truly he had hit the lottery with her.

E. CARLSON: “Everything comes full circle. This company was the springboard for my career. The launching point. I couldn’t do what I do now without this company and what it did for me. But you… this company couldn’t do what it does without you. Bronx talks a big game about carrying this company by himself. But the reality of the matter is that without Bronx this company would be fine. There was a time when people thought that this company wouldn’t last without Cashe. And then he went away for months and was fine And when he came back he had to steal the spotlight that rightfully belonged to Bronx and Ana at the end of Retrograde. But you… when you took a break when I got hurt and were there for me. There was a void in 4CW. Something was missing. It’s edge had fallen away. The world thinks that 4CW needs Bronx. But really what it needs is you. Nothing about that changes tonight. The company still will need you. You’ll just have a shiny belt to go along with that and substantiate what I already know even more.”

Finally stopping himself he chuckled softly.

E. CARLSON: “Sorry… me in front of a camera and I guess I still haven’t learned how to shut up.”

Genevie laughed and shook her head and kissed her husband on the lips. She was happy to have his support. To known when nobody else believed in her she had him. Which was all that mattered.

G. CARLSON: “it’s okay. Honestly at this point I want to win this match more than anything but if somehow I don’t win? I know you’re still going to be right. 4CW has lost every great female talent it had. Tara, Lauryn, and Marquis. Hell we were the top four. Sure Ana has come in and made noise but, I’m what’s left this company still needs my presence. If somehow I fall to Bronx like everyone else tonight? I’m going to be the presence this company still needs me to be, and I don’t think I could do that without your support.”

She sighed and wrapped her arms around her husband and hugged him. Resting her head on his chest for a moment before pulling away and shaking off her thoughts with a laugh.

G. CARLSON: “But that’s not how this is going to go tonight. Tonight I’m bringing the 4CW Championship back into our home. I’m not going to stop until Bronx is left laid out in the ring. I don’t need weapons or fancy match stipulations to win this. I’m going to out wrestle the best wrestler in the entire world and take my place where I have known I always belonged. It may have taken me awhile to get here but I will not waste this opportunity. I’m ready. I’m ready to stand at the top of this company. I’m just glad the South Beach Brawl Cup Tournament is where I get to become champ. It really is coming full circle..”

He let silence fall between them simply because he remembered how he felt on the night at Winter Wasteland at the end of 2016 when he had been full of nervous energy, ready to face the best in the world at the time in Jair Hopkins.

E. CARLSON: “There’s nothing like it in the world. I remember when Jair and I went to war… there were moments in the match where it felt like if I breathed wrong the momentum would shift and everything would topple in his favor. That’s how thin the margins are. That’s how it was against Bronx, too. Nobody remembers how close that fight was between us a year ago. How I came within a half second of putting him away for good…”

It was then that Eli paused and took a deep breath.

E. CARLSON: “And if it comes down to it. Don’t hesitate. Not one fucking second. Do whatever it takes to put him away. If that means leaping from the top of the damned big screen. You’ve got this. Risk whatever you need to. When it’s over I’ll still be back here. And so will Sarah.”

Genevie nodded her head in agreement. She was ready for this match.

G. CARLSON: “I know. Whatever it takes. If I could make it through blood and tears and torture with Dakota as the XTV Champion. I can handle having to take the necessary risks to beat Bronx. I can do this. I will do this. Nothing is going to stop me.The next time I see you? I’ll be holding the 4CW Championship.”

Genevie leaned forward and gave Eli another peck on the lips with a smirk before dropping his hand from hers and waving as she walked away to give herself the necessary time alone she would need before she would fight Bronx for the 4CW Championship. The scene faded out on Eli smirking watching his wife walk away.

HEADLINE
SBBC ROUND TWO
ANASTASIA HAYDEN VS. CHRIS MADISON

POWERS: ”The following South Beach Brawl Cup match is scheduled for one fall!”

“Word up, son, word, yeah

To all the killers and a hundred dollar billers

For real, niggas who ain’t got no feelings

Check it out now”

The lighting in the building darkens a bit before the opening of “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep starts playing and the crowd begins to boo. As soon as the intro of the song finishes, Anastasia Hayden steps out from the curtains 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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The arena’s lights dim to black as the opening guitar riffs to “War Machine” by KISS begin to screech over the P.A. system. The video screen lights up with visual static noise. Suddenly in the center of the screen a black handprint begins pulsating to the beat of the drum that has began to play. A spotlight shines on the entrance ramp and we see Chris Madison standing with his head bowed under a black towel, wearing an official licensed t-shirt that says, “Always Ready For War,” across the chest. He nods his head to the music and as the chorus breaks he rips the towel from his head and tosses it into the live audience, starting his way down the ramp toward, the ring.

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

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

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet tall, ‘Mayhem’ CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

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

VASSA: ”Welcome back to ringside for our headline match of the evening.”

JOHNSON: ”As you all can tell by the two we have standing in the ring, we have one hell of a match on our hands.”

VASSA: ”It’s round two baby and this week we bring to you all, Anastasia Hayden versus Chris Madison!”

JOHNSON: ”Although she won two weeks ago and advanced to round two, Ana is still coming off a huge upset loss to Bronx Valescence for the 4CW Championship at RetroGrade.”

VASSA: ”That isn’t going to stop her. If you would have asked her who the best wrestler in the world is five minutes after her match with Bronx, she would have said herself. That’s a fact and one title loss isn’t going to keep her down.”

JOHNSON: ”As we’ve seen over the last two weeks, our next Adrenaline has all of her attention as she’s already looking forward to facing Bronx for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”It not good to look ahead, especially when the one standing in front of you right now is Chris Madison.”

JOHNSON: ”Unlike Ana, we’ve seen this man down on himself over recent events in 4CW since his return just last Fall. I don’t see it. Sure, he’s lost a few matches along the way but he is in no way, shape, or form a jobber as he’s claimed to be.”

VASSA: ”4CW is an entirely different animal than it was when he was tearing through the ranks two years ago. The level of competition is through the roof but that doesn’t mean he’s lost a step or two.”

JOHNSON: ”For the first time ever, he’s finally getting a shot at the 4CW Championship by being in this tournament.”

VASSA: ”Him and fifteen other people were given the same shot.”

JOHNSON: ”My point is he’s finally given the opportunity and this tournament alone can change people’s perspectives of him over a few recent matches.”

VASSA: ”It’s easier said than done. This is a tough one right here, for both Ana and Chris. Looking ahead isn’t going to get you anywhere if you’re not focused on what’s happen right before your eyes.”

JOHNSON: ”Exactly, and what’s right before our eyes is a colossal matchup between two of the hottest wrestlers in the business today!”

DING!!! DING!!!

Now if this isn’t a match you have been looking forward to then you’re a fan of the wrong sport. Seriously, you should probably turn you television off if that’s the case. Without any further delay, we finally get to witness Chris Madison and Anastasia Hayden locking up inside of a 4CW ring. Yes, they literally locked up from the very beginning. Now it was evident that Madison had the size advantage over her, overpowering her from the jump and backing her across the ring. Allowing him to put his weight into her, Ana caught him off guard as she pulled his head down, side stepping him and flipping him over to his back with a hip toss. At this very moment you can bet that American Tommy is on his feet, shouting at the television at the sight of that move.

Back on his feet, Madison gave Ana a slow nod, and she returned the favor. The two then began to circle each other in the center of the ring, sizing one another up and looking for the opportune time to strike. Going in first as if he has nothing to lose, Madison shoots for Ana’s leg, only to come up empty handed as Ana sprawls and falls down onto his back. She quickly turns her body to position herself on his back but not before Madison pushes himself up and sweeps his legs around, breaking away from her. The two raced to their feet, Ana standing before him with just enough time to move in before he could rise. Kicking her leg up, she slammed her foot into his face with kick. It was enough to stun Madison, just long enough for her to repeat and deliver another stinging kick to his face, knocking him down to his side.

Pulling Madison up from the mat, she kneed him in the stomach before unloading with a series of kicks to his legs, backing him up until he was left with nowhere to go and his back against the ropes. Ana kicked for his head this time, putting her entire body into it as she pivoted around on her standing foot. Catching her leg before the kick could make contact, Madison then lifted her off her feet before taking a few steps forward and slamming her to the mat with a sit-out spinebuster!

VASSA: ”They don’t call her AnaKicks for nothing.”

JOHNSON: ”Unfortunately she wasn’t able to connect with that last kick, giving Madison the opportunity to turn things around in the blink of an eye.”

Now that the momentum has shifted in his favor, Madison wasn’t about to stop there. As soon as Ana’s back slammed against the canvas, Madison went straight to work, positioning himself beside her. Grabbing ahold of her and holding her in place, he then began to hit her over and over with repeated knees to her ribs. Pushing himself up, he then pulled Ana to her feet. Squaring up with her, Madison hit her with a forearm to the face, knocking her back just enough to give him enough room to go to town with kicks to her lowers legs. He then transitioned his point of focus to her knee as he landed two back to back right kicks to the side of it. Jumping up, he then raised his knee, connected with a flying knee strike to Ana’s face and knocking her backwards a few steps. The knee to the face stunned her, giving Chris all the time he needed to run to the ropes and return with a yakuza kick that leveled her completely. With Ana flat on her back, Madison quickly dropped down and made the cover.

ONE

.

.

Popping her shoulder up from the mat, Ana broke up the officials count before he could slap the mat a second time. positioned to Ana’s side, Madison went back to his previous point of attack and began hitting her with even more knees to the ribs. On his feet, he circled Ana for a short moment, catching his breath before going back in and pulling her up from the mat. With an elbow to the side of her head, Madison knocked her back a step before stepping in himself and spinning her around. He locked in a half nelson and before you knew it, Ana was offer her feet and then dropped on her head with a suplex. She didn’t stay down though, oh no. Pushing herself up, Ana wasn’t quick enough to rise before Madison. With her on one knee, Madison clutched her head and began hitting her over and over with knees to the face. Pulling her up from the mat, he then wrapped both arms around her upper body. Looking Ana dead in the eye, Madison then dug down deep and exploded, slamming his feet to the mat as he lifted her up, throwing her over his head with a belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Massive overhead belly to belly suplex there by Madison.”

VASSA: ”Can it really be called a belly to belly suplex with Ana? It’s more like… Belly to hip bone. Could label all 236 bones of the human body on her without a problem”

JOHNSON: ”I’m surprised you knew that number, honestly.”

VASSA: ”It’ll be 237 later tonight when she and I might up if you know what I mean.”

Madison is quick to roll back up to his feet and beckon Ana to get back to hers with both of his hands. When she finally reaches a vertical base, Madison rushes her and presses her into the ropes, wrapping his hands around the back of her neck and bringing her into a Muay Thai clinch. Using his mixed martial arts background, Madison quickly stomps on the right foot of Hayden to distract her before pulling down on the back of her head while bringing his left knee up to crack her straight in the nose. The impact causes a few of the fans in the front row to groan and instinctively clutch at their own faces as though they had been hit by the knee themselves. Steadying himself for half a moment, Madison only pauses for a period of time less than it would take to blink your eye before pulling down on Ana’s head once again, battering her with another knee straight to the face. Two more knees, alternating back and forth, connected before he threw one final knee straight to the body.

Dropping down to both knees as Madison released her, Ana appeared to be in a complete haze as Madison backed off for just a moment to size her up and figure out where he wanted to go from there. Making a decision, Madison approached her quickly once more, looking to snap off a head kick and put her on her back but he completely whiffs as Ana drops to the side, timing the kick perfectly. Smartly she rolled away from him, under the bottom rope and then down to the outside of the ring. Not letting her get away from him, Madison immediately moved and dipped out of the ring though the top and middle rope as well, giving chase to his opponent. Picking up her pace, Ana quickly hustled around the corner of the ring with Madison close behind. She then rolled herself back into the ring and pushed herself back up to a standing position just as Madison rolled back in behind her. There was just enough time, however, for her to catch him with a brutal kick to the ribs that slowed him down tremendously.

Pulling Madison up from the mat, Ana positioned herself behind him. Wrapping him up around the waist, she went to lift him off his feet for a German suplex but instead she ate a mouthful of elbow as Madison threw his arm back. Pulling himself away from Ana, Madison then spun around and kicked her straight in the stomach, forcing her to buckle over. Going for a pump-handle slam, Madison was quickly countered as Anastasia slipped from his hold, sliding down his back and wrapping her arm over his face as she landed. Madison had no where to go but down, and that’s exactly where he went as Ana dropped him with a reverse DDT. With Madison down on his back, Ana popped up to her feet and went to dancing, kicking her foot out over and over and pounding away at Madison’s face with it. Pulling him up to a seated position, Ana then took a few steps back before charging in, wiping him out with a kick to the side of the head. As Madison slammed against the mat, Ana spun a complete one-eighty from the momentum of the kick.

Pulling him up from the mat, she dragged him across the ring before throwing him into the corner. Madison crashed hard against it, even showing signs by his facial expression at the point of contact and thereafter. Sweeping in, Ana put on a full clinic of kicks as she went to work on Madison’s mid section. After one kick to the side of Madison’s knee, Ana lunged forward, slamming her fists into his chest and driving him backwards into the corner. She then backed up a few steps, creating some distance between the two before rushing in and connecting with an enguigiri! Madison didn’t go down though. He stumblied forward, wobbling from left to right but still on his feet. Not for long though, not until Ana stepped in beside him, lifting him off his feet and dropping him in the center of the ring with a side slam backbreaker!

Making the cover, she hooked the leg as the official raced over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Kicking out, Madison lifted Ana just enough to push her off of him. For good measure, Ana throw a right forearm across the bridge of Madison’s nose before standing back to her feet. She then backed up to the ropes and as she bounced off, she hit him across the stomach with a rolling knee. As Ana rolled off of him and back up to her feet, the impact forced Madison to sit up to a seated position. On her feet, she continued to the ropes ahead, hitting them hard and rushing back with even more speed. She ran right past Madison, hitting the ropes in front of him before coming back and rocking his dome with a running dropkick to the face! With Madison laid out on his back, Ana shot to her feet and raced over to the corner. Climbing tothe top, she didn’t waste any time before leaping through the air and coming down with a double foot stomp to Madison’s chest. Dropping down to her knees, she then made the cover as the official slid in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”THR–“

JOHNSON: ”Madison kicks out again!”

VASSA: ”Un-fucking-believeable!”

JOHNSON: ”Believe it because that just happened right before our very eyes.”

VASSA: ”Did you just check me?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think so. What does that even mean?”

VASSA: ”Don’t worry about it because Ana’s back on the attack!”

Wrapping an arm around Madison’s head, Ana held it in place as she began pounding away at the top of his skull with rapid punches. Leaning over Madison to block the view of the official from behind, Ana then raked Madison’s eyes. He couldn’t see and Ana got away with it. On her feet, she kicked Madison in the ribs once before pulling him up to his feet. Ducking down, she wrapped him up around the waist before lifting him off his feet and flipping him over to his back with a Northern Lights suplex. Bridging the suplex, Madison was shoulders to the mat as the official dropped in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

And still somehow Chris Madison manages to keep out. Frustration growing more and more apparent in the eyes of Ana Hayden who shoots an annoyed glare at the referee. Grabbing Madison by his big ass ears, Ana gets up to her feet and pulls the mixed martial arts aficionado up along with her. Sending him into the ropes, Madison comes back at full speed. Ana drops down to her stomach and Madison quickly hops over her and continues on to the opposite ropes, rebounding off of them. As he comes sprinting back at Ana once more she leap frogs him but instead of continuing on, Madison comes to a halt and stands upright, catching Ana on his shoulders. Recognizing that she’s not in a good position, Ana begins to swing wildly, driving a flurry of punches down onto the top of Madisons head as he tries to adjust her weight on his shoulders and steady her a bit.

VASSA: ”This is bad news for Ana. If Rachel Taylor from Octane was here she’d be crying about sexual assault or some other ridiculous femnazi bullshit!”

JOHNSON: ”The first rule about Octane is that we don’t talk about Octane on Adrenaline, Vinny. Come on now!”

Trying her best to break free of the tight grasp that Madison had on her legs, Ana shifts her weight as much as she can, trying to find a way to swing her legs around so that she’s seated front facing on his shoulders where she might be able to bring him down with a hurricanrana. But Chris Madison thinks quickly and pushes her up off of her shoulders high into the air, allowing her to free fall down toward the mat. As she does so he locks in a rear waist lock and then slams her down violently with a bridging german suplex as the referee slides in, noticing that Ana’s shoulders were pinned to the mat!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

VASSA: ”And somehow… some way… Bronx Valescence or Genie Carlson get out of having to face Ana Hayden in the third round of the South Beach Brawl Cup.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s true but does anyone really believe their situation improved at all? Whoever walks out of our main event tonight with the 4CW Championship in tow still is going to have to spend the next two weeks preparing for the greatest Pride champion 4CW has ever seen. A man who holds the longest undefeated streak in this company.”

VASSA: ”A streak that was ended recently, none the less. If I had to choose, in my opinion, Madison is the lesser of two evils. But not by much.”

So much for the job squad, eh? Pushing himself up to his feet, the expression on Madisons face says all that you need to know. He knows he’s just been through a war. But finally… finally… he managed to get back on the winning side of one of them and now a shot at the 4CW Championship awaits him in two weeks time. While the referee raises his hand, Mike Powers announces the result.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… CHRIS… MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

By the time his name had been called Ana had managed to roll herself out of the ring and was resting against the barricade, holding the back of her head with disappointment etched into her expression. At the same time Chris Madison took to the corner turnbuckle, raising his arms in the air victoriously, as our scene switched backstage.

The chants of ‘You Still Got It’ echoing even as the cameras come backstage. The match between Madison and Ana was amazing! Chris Madison had been in a slump and tonight took a HUGE step in climbing out from it. There should have been a pep in his step and there was as he comes through the curtain. Sweat covering him, he had a classic out there as was most the big named matches in 4CW. Next to every match is what some fans could label as a Super Fight and this was no different. Ana will take so much from this match and grow from it as Chris Madison gets himself on the right track or at least closer to that with this match. A win.

? ? ?: ”Congratulations Chris!”

Nodding as a few backstage staff members give him his due. Waiting with open arms, Frankie Morrison reaches out, grabbing Madison by the shoulders and pulls him in for a quick embrace.

MORRISON: “Are you kidding me right now? He’s fucking back!”

Frankie grabs a bottle of water from one of the stagehands and passes it off to his client who quickly begins chugging it.

? ? ?: ”That was amazing! Congrats Madison!!”

With a mouth full of water he couldn’t respond but gave his nods in response at the praise. Moving along the hallway, Madison had a limp to him from the match as a beautiful blonde hair woman approaches him with more praise.

? ? ?: ”Loved the match, the way you compete is simply beautiful!”

MADISON: ”Tha–”

CASHE: ”LIAR!!”

From behind comes Jason Cashe with a Steel Chair and it connects to Chris Madison’s back. The echo of the shot rings throughout the hallways as the blonde steps out of the way but isn’t scared or surprised even. Madison falls forward and drops to a knee with his hands to the floor to keep him from falling flat. Cashe lifts the chair up and brings it down again, this time to the base of Madison’s neck. He crumbles over and lays on his side against the cold floors.

CASHE: ”I asked you! I ASKED YOU! What was I doing wrong? What could I do to change shit and what did you say?! WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”

But Madison said nothing. He was holding the back of his neck where the last chair shot landed and moaning some. You could see staff workers hurrying to find someone to help and all the while, the blonde female stood nearby. Smiling as she watched Cashe stand over Madison. Completely stunned, Frankie Morrison stared blankly as the assault unfolded in front of him.

MORRISON: “Cashe! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ignoring Frankie Morrison, this wasn’t about him no matter who his client was. This was older than him, older than just a lie. This was a long time coming..

CASHE: ”You didn’t say shit! You said you didn’t know and yet? THAT! You go out there and BEAT Ana!? You KNOW! You KNEW when I asked but you LIED to me! I should tear you apart here and now.. But I won’t..”

The blonde hearing his words loses her smile. Why wasn’t Cashe going to tear him apart? That had to have been the plan rushing into the scene but something changed.

CASHE: ”I won’t because at one time, I looked up to you. I wanted to be the caliber of athlete that you were and have always been in this business. Yet now? Now I don’t want to be you anymore my old friend.. Now I want to watch you bleed. Rest up. I want my wounds fresh if your blood is to stain the ring. I’ll see you VERY soon Madison.. Count on it!”

Letting the chair fall to the ground, Cashe turns and walks away. The blonde hurrying up and latching onto his arm as the two walk off together and Chris Madison finally is helped by Frankie Morrison and members of the 4CW production staff.

MAIN EVENT
4CW CHAMPIONSHIP
SBBC ROUND TWO

GENEVIE CARLSON VS. BRONX VALESCENCE ©

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following South Beach Brawl Cup round two match is scheduled for one fall and also for the 4CW Championship!”

The beginning beat of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina begins to play as the lights dim, only white and pink lights shine move out over the crowd.

“Ah ah ah yep yep yep

The baddest bitch is back,

I’m back part 2, part 2

I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

Genevie appears from behind the curtain with a smirk on her face as she looks around the crowd, drinking in the boos as she does her signature stripper dance, twirling around as she shakes her ass. She completes a rotation as she bites her lip and winks at the crowd making her way down the ramp.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at one hundred thirty-six pounds, she is ‘THE BOSTON GENIE’… GEN–“

FUCK MAYBE
EVEN BRONX

POWERS: ”Who will fuck maybe even Bronx! GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Genevie carries her head high as she walks down the ramp with confidence, with slow and steady steps. As the song plays she walks around to the side of the ring, hopping up on the apron. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes, and standing up in the ring as she runs her hands down her body.

“And don’t you cross that line cause I get hot quick

And if you do it’s gonna be me & u up in this bitch

And I’m gonna show you why they call me the baddest bitch”

She does one final twirl to show off her ASSETS, rolling her eyes at the jealous fans as she goes over to the ropes and leans against them, checking her nails as the referee comes over and she dismisses him to get away from her because he is a peasant and she is The Princess. He backs off and she just continues to smirk as the music dies down.

VASSA: ”Wish my name was Bronx right about now.”

JOHNSON: ”Excuse me, what?”

VASSA: ”Fuck maybe even Bronx. I wish I was Bronx.”

JOHNSON: ”Your mouth has already gotten you in trouble earlier tonight. You better hope that Eli didn’t hear what you just said.”

VASSA: ”I meant that on a competitive level because she’s going to bring the fight to Bronx’s front door tonight. Maybe even fuck his whole world up!”

JOHNSON: ”Sure you did, Vinny. We believe you.”

VASSA: ”Suckers…”

The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he pulls his 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 reigning 4CW Champion… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Pulling the 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 the title.

VASSA: ”Bronxy V is one title defense deep in this tournament. Tonight will be the second, after coming off a huge defense against Ana at RetroGrade.”

JOHNSON: ”If Bronx is going to carry the championship all the way to South Beach Brawl, he has a tough road ahead of him. First he had Bryan Laughlin. He has Genie here tonight. We already know that Chris Madison is advancing tot he third round. That’s just this bracket. There’s a whole other bracket with Dakota and Andre still in it.”

VASSA: ”This is what he does, day in and day out. Everyone is looking ahead to April Eleventh when the fight is right here in front of them.”

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t the first time that genie and Bronx have been in the ring together. Last time these two faced off in singles competition Genie almost put him down for good.”

VASSA: ”And that wasn’t a tournament match! You best believe that Genie is bringing the fight even more tonight with so much on the line.”

JOHNSON: ”With the 4CW Championship on the line each and every round, the South Beach Brawl Cup is producing some great matchups across the board. Some that will more than likely be voted for match of the year eventually.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The time for fun and games is no more. Hearing the bell, both knew that there was only one thing left to do. Circling each other in the center of the ring, Genie quickly took control of things as she pulled Bronx’s head down into a side headlock. Driving his feet forward and pushing Genie away, Bronx sent her to the ropes as he pulled his head away from her arm. As she hit the ropes and came back, Bronx went for something big early on as he kicked his foot up and aimed straight for her head. Sliding feet first to the mat, Genie barely managed to dodge the superkick, but she did. Popping back to her feet, she spun around and just as Bronx turned to face her, she kissed the side of his head with a roundhouse kick, knocking him straight to the mat.

Leaping into the air, she came down on his chest with an elbow drop. Rolling over to her side, the then began raining down on Bronx’s head with rapid fire right hands. On her feet, Genie turned to the ropes and as she came back with even more speed, she slid to the mat feet first again, this time driving both into the side of Bronx’s head. Turning to the corner, Genie rushes over to it, climbing upwards to the top. Just as Bronx stood to his feet, she leaped straight for him, flying through the air and colliding into his with a diving crossbody. Bronx fell back to the mat, hitting it hard with Genie landing on top of him. In position for a pin, she hooked his leg as the official slid in with the count.

ON–

Kicking out before a full one count, Bronx pushed Genie off of him. The two raced to their feet, Genie standing first. With Bronx on one knee getting up, she quickly moved in, popping her leg up and kicking him in the shoulder. Standing in front of him, she held onto his head with one hand and with the other, she began hitting him over and over until finally reaching the ten count. Pulling him to his feet, she then kneed him in the stomach, forcing him to buckle over. Wrapping an arm around his head, she then lifted him up and over, dropping him to his back with a snap suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Bronx and Phe are always talking about snapping each other but that snap suplex looked kind of painful.”

VASSA: ”Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

JOHNSON: ”Of course I do! Find someone more knowledgeable than me. I’ll wait.”

Pulling Bronx up to his feet, Genie hit him with back to back punches before locking onto his arm and whipping him to the ropes. As he came back on the rebound, she jumped up, hitting him directly in the chest with a dropkick. Stumbling backwards, Bronx fell into the ropes and flipped over them, somehow managing to land his feet to the apron as he held onto the top rope. Genie was back on her feet and before you knew it, she was charging across the ring straight for him. Lunging forward, Genie went for Bronx head but what she received was a shoulder to the stomach as Bronx ducked down and pulled his upper body through the ropes. Folded over, Genie too a few steps backwards as she fought for air. Jumping up and pulling himself with the ropes, Bronx planted both feet onto the top rope before springboarding off. He was coming at her with a crossbody of his own but as Genie stood up, she hopped back before grabbing Bronx by the head with both hands and slamming him face first into the mat with a facebuster.

Bronx rolled over to his back in a world of pain. Stretching her arms out to the side, Genie then walked across Bronx’s body, showing off for the crowd and establishing her dominance. She then pulled him up to a seated position before running to the ropes behind him. Bouncing off the ropes and racing across the ring, Genie leaped feet first, hitting Bronx in the back of the head with a dropkick and rolling him forward. With confidence, genie rose to her feet and circled Bronx as he remained down on the mat. Pulling him to his feet, she positioned herself behind him and walked him by the ropes. Wrapping him up, she then lifted him off his feet and with his legs spread, she then dropped him crotch down onto the top rope. Bronx moaned loudly as the pain was evident in his facial expression. Holding onto the top rope for dear life, he balanced himself for a moment, just long enough for Genie to grab ahold of him. Pulling his head down, she wrapped an arm around it and fell back, pulling Bronx off the top rope and planting his head into the mat with a DDT!

Although he was holding his crotch, it was hard to tell whether he was hurting down there or on top of his head more. Either way, it wasn’t a pretty position to be in and painful no matter how you look at it. Rolling Bronx over to his back, Genie then made the cover as the official rushed in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

VASSA: ”Tw–“

JOHNSON: ”And a kickout from the champ!”

VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I’ll tell you, Genie is off to a great start tonight. Aside from two pin attempts that came up short, she’s been in full control of this match and if you’re going to beat Bronx, this is one way to do it.”

Although she was in control of the match, Genie was beginning to grow frustrated, especially after that kickout seconds ago. Once she stood up, she didn’t hesitate to take those frustrations out on Bronx. Kicking and stomping on him, Genie let it all out. She then grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him up to his feet. With an open hand, she slapped him across the chest and the following sound cut through everything else in the arena. She then slapped him across the chest again and again, leaving red handprints on his flesh. Locking onto his arm, she then went to throw him to the ropes. Planting his foot, Bronx pulled Genie in just before she could release him, leveling her with a short-arm clothesline!

Still locked onto her arm, Bronx pulled her up from the mat. Pulling her in a second time, Bronx laid her out with another short-arm clothesline! He didn’t let up either. His grip on her arm was still in tact which led to him pulling her up once more. Instead of a third short-arm clothesline, Bronx whipped her to the furthest corner with all of his strength, even falling to one knee as he did. As she crashed against the corner, Bronx popped up and charged forward. He leaped as high as he could for a huge body splash but as he closed in, Genie rolled out of the way. Quick to react, Bronx planted both feet on the middle ropes, landing with grace. He then looked over his shoulder where Genie was getting back to her feet. Jumping backwards, he spun in mid air and as he came down, he laid his leg across the back of her head, bringing her down with him and driving her face into the canvas.

As if he were break dancing, Bronx spun around on his back before lifting him up with a handstand and dropping down to his feet. The instant shift in momentum ignited something in the champ. He quickly went on the attack, hitting Genie with a rolling knee to the back. He then pulled her up and looked her dead in the eye. “FUCK MAYBE EVEN BRONX” he yelled as loud as he could before doing a crotch chop with one hand and then slamming his head forward, hitting her right between the eyes with a headbutt. He released her as soon as his head connected with hers, sending her to stumble backwards across the ring on her own before falling into the ropes. As she bounced forward, Bronx was right there in front of her to catch her as she fell into his arms. Pulling her in, he popped his leg up, driving his knee into her stomach and forcing her to buckle over. Wrapping both arms around her stomach, he then lifted her up and over, slamming her to the mat with a gut wrench suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Things have taken quite a turn here.”

VASSA: ”Genie was putting a hurting on the champ, but just like that, Bronx does what he does best.”

JOHNSON: ”This is a Bronx that no one wants to find themselves across the ring from. We’ve seen it time and time again. Whenever he’s down, he always finds a way to get right back up and raise the bar even more.”

Rolling Genie over to her stomach, Bronx squatted down. Wrapping both arms around her, he locked his hands underneath and with all of his strength, he dead lifted her up from the mat. Once standing completely up and holding Genie, Bronx then fell back, dropping her on her head with a German suplex. Genie’s body rolled over completely to where she was face down to the mat. Jumping to his feet, Bronx jogged circles around the ring, circling Genie and playing to the Columbia crowd. Although Genie was down, she wasn’t deaf and heard the commotion Bronx was stirring with the crowd. She pushed herself up, which made Bronx stop in his tracks as he realized playtime was over with.

Before she could completely stand, Bronx was right there, grabbing ahold of her and keeping her body bent over. Forearm after forearm, he swung down onto her back like a mad man. He then locked onto her upper body and held it in place as he began popping his leg up, hitting her in the stomach over and over with stiff knees. Turning her around, Bronx then wrapped her up around the waist before lifting her off her feet and slamming her to the canvas with a German suplex once again. He didn’t release her though, instead he bridged it and with her shoulders to the mat, the official wasn’t far behind with the count.

ONE

.

.

As the officials hand swung down for the second time, Genie dug down deep and kicked out. She wasn’t done yet, not by any means. While she wasn’t done, she also wasn’t the first one to their feet as Bronx quickly climbed to his. Before she could rise, Bronx was right there again, attacking her before she could get herself together. After a few right hands to the head, Bronx pulled her up to her feet. He then took a few steps back and before you knew it, he was going back in with a superkick! His foot came within an inch of her face before she ducked down and shot in. Wrapping up his other leg, Genie then lifted Bronx off his feet and after a moment of struggling to grab his other leg, she then threw him to his back with an Alabama slam!

VASSA: ”Straight from Alabama! I bet there’s a deleted scene in Forrest Gump where he was the first person to ever perfect this move.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s just nonsense. He’s not even a real person.”

VASSA: ”You know what? You’re not a real person! He’s a goddamn war hero and you’re going to disrespect him like this right here on live television.”

JOHNSON: ”Drew Stevenson’s face is more real than Forrest Gump.”

VASSA: ”BUT HE DON’T HAVE ANY WORKING LEGS!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Yes, I know that.”

Just like Bronx earlier, Genie had gotten her second wind. Climbing on top of him, she then lit up his world with hammerfists. Rolling him over to his back, she then placed her knee against his spine before grabbing his arms and stretching him back. With no ropes close by, the only thing Bronx could do was fight through the pain that Genie was inflicting on him. This went on for nearly a minute. The official checked in on Bronx again and again, never once getting a hint from Bronx that he was going to submit. This just made Genie even more angry as she pulled back harder on his arms, digging her knee into him with even more pressure. Still holding his arms, she pulled her knee away from his back before standing to her feet. She then placed her foot onto the back of his head. With Bronx in place for the Stiletto Kiss, Genie looked over the crowd, seizing the moment as if this was it before taking the next big step and becoming 4CW Champion. It wasn’t long, but just enough time for Bronx to slip his arm away from her hold. Genie still went for it. She kicked her foot down and just before Bronx’s face crashed against the mat, he managed to roll out of the way. Genie’s foot slammed to the canvas, not exactly how she had things planned.

If you thought she was angry before, or angry on Twitter at times, you haven’t seen anything yet! With Bronx still down, Genie turned her body to face him before kicking him in the stomach repeatedly. A howl escaped Bronx’s lips as one kicked appeared to be below the belt, connecting with what he and everyone else calls, his micro penis. Was it really micro? That’s a topic for another day. What’s really important here is that somehow, the official didn’t even see it. Bronx’s face grew a bright shade of red as he remained on his side, holding himself. Grabbing Bronx by his inherited head full of beautiful hair, she rolled him over to his stomach before pressing his face against the mat. Back and forth, she dragged Bronx’s face across the canvas, much like the draggings that happen day in and day out on social media with crybabies.

Pulling his head up from the mat, Genie turned it as she bent over, looking him in the eyes. “Is this the best you have pissbaby!” she screamed in his face before turning him to look at the mat once more before slamming his face down into it. Pulling his head up again, she turned it to look at her before screaming once more. “Pissbaby Bronx! Daddy’s favorite!” Raising his head up even more from the mat, she then slammed it down as hard as she could, driving his face right into the mat. Releasing him, she stood to her feet before pacing the ring, waving at the crowd and blowing kisses to them. She then walked over to the nearest corner to Bronx and climbed to the top. Blowing one final kiss to the champ, she then leaped from the top of the corner, extending her legs and coming down with a leg drop that had Bronx’s name written all over it.

TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!

JOHNSON: ”Bronx moved!”

VASSA: ”Oh man, why can’t the canvas be my face right now?!”

It wasn’t a devastating fall, but one that would keep her down nonetheless. Beside her, Bronx was up on both knees, looking down at her and questioning the names she called him moments before. Brushing the hair from his face, he then stood to his feet and yelled at the top of his lungs. “I’m not a fucking pissbaby!” Storming over to the corner, he climbed to the top. No glasses, no theatrics, nothing. It was time for True Light’s Flight. From below, she could see that she was in danger. Fighting through the pain, Genie pushed herself up. Leaping from the corner, Bronx went for a flying clothesline but missed as Genie ducked underneath it. Bronx hit the mat and rolling forward, fluidly coming back to his feet. He continued to the ropes and as he came back on the return, he just barely ducked a clothesline from Genie before pressing on. Hitting the ropes again, Bronx stormed at Genie, going under her as she leap frogged him. Hitting the ropes yet again, Bronx bounced off and just as Genie turned to face him, he jumped forward into the air. Wrapping an arm around her head, he lifted her off her feet, flipping her over and dropping her on her head with a front flip DDT!

JOHNSON: ”VALESCENCE’S VICTORY!!!”

VASSA: ”And out of nowhere!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s going for the cover…”

Crawling over top of Genie, Bronx hooked her leg for good measure as the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

If they weren’t already, the entire crowd jumped to their feet as the officials hand slapped the mat for the three count. Popping up as well, Bronx jumped straight up before rushing to the corner and leaping up to the middle ropes. Throwing his arms into the air, Bronx showed his love and support for the fans as “Stranger Things” began to play over the arena.

VASSA: ”Two down, two to go!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s back to back to back championship defenses in just six weeks. Bronx is on fire with a huge rematch two weeks ahead.”

Bronx steps down from the corner before the official steps in beside him. He hands Bronx the 4CW Championship and as Bronx raises the belt into the air with one hand, the official raises his other arm in the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, AND STILL 4CW CHAMPION… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

He snatches his arm away from the official, climbing the corner once more but this time with the title in hand. Raising it high above his head with both hands, Bronx puts it on full display for the crowd in attendance and those watching around the world. A chant is then heard growing louder and louder as Bronx celebrates.

“Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby!”

VASSA: ”You hear that, Steve? These fans must be confused because Bronx is by far a pissbaby if I’ve ever seen one, but he’s our pissbaby!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t even know what a pissbaby is. However, I do know that round three is looking to be pretty sweet if you ask me.”

VASSA: ”Oh, most definitely. In two weeks we have Andre Holmes and Dakota Smith competing head to head. And we also have Chris Madison challenging Bronx for the 4CW Championship.”

JOHNSON: ”This is a rematch between the two I have been dying to see ever since they first squared off in the Fall last year.”

VASSA: ”Bronx is the first person to defeat Madison in singles competition inside of a 4CW ring. I know damn well this match is very important to Madison.”

JOHNSON: ”He can make things right with a win over Bronx in the third round. We should have seen Madison in the 4CW Championship picture a long time ago but things never seemed to work out. I’m sure Omerta had nothing to do with that.”

VASSA: ”You blaming that on Perry?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m just calling it like I see it and in two weeks, we get yet another pay-per-view main event quality matchup!”

VASSA: ”We’re less than a full month away from partying at the beach in Miami for South Beach Brawl.”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t wait to feel the sand between my toes.”

VASSA: ”Ugh, that’s disgusting. I can’t wait for American Tommy to bury himself in sand in hopes of you stepping on his face.”

JOHNSON: ”And on that note we’re going to call it a night. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head to the Philips Arena in Atlanta for Adrenaline Eighty-Three!”

VASSA: ”April Eleventh, it’s what the craze has been lately and it’s finally going to happen.”

JOHNSON: ”From the folks at 4CW, we wish you all a safe Holiday and look forward to seeing you back here at ringside for Adrenaline. I’m Steve Johnson…”

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

The camera cuts to Bronx once again as he’s still at the top of the corner, holding the 4CW Championship with both arms against his chest. Slowly, the picture begins to fade out but the noise level remains the same. Slowly, the noise level dies down before eventually coming to nothing but silence. The credits then begin to roll as our show has officially come to an end.

“Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby! … Not a pissbaby!”