ADRENALINE E83 (144)

APRIL 11TH, 2018 PHILIPS ARENA ATLANTA, GA

The picture opens up to a shot of the outside of the Philips Arena. “Survival” begins playing as the picture cuts to a shot from inside of the arena at the top of the ramp. Slowly, the camera works its way down the ramp towards the ring. Looking out over the crowd, the camera focuses on various signs held throughout the mixture of people.

HE WON’T SAY
BRONX’S NAME
BECAUSE HIS
GIRL WILL CUM

W A N T E D :
SEX ANDROID
FOR WRESTLING

SLASHLEY
FEARS
GENIE

REPORT
T H I S
D I C K

SIGN PETITION
FOR AQ TO DROP
QUAGLIATERRE

CRYBABY
SLASHLEY

Pyro begins shooting from the corner posts of the ring as the camera takes it all in full focus. Slowly creeping around the corner, the announcers booth comes into view and behind it we find our duo, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa. Closer and closer the camera approaches the booth until Johnson receives his queue and looks directly to the camera.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW’s Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson, and we’re coming to you live tonight with the Eighty-Third episode of Adrenaline, right here at the Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia!”

VASSA: ”Well, well, well… thanks for the introduction.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh stop it, everyone knows who you are.”

VASSA: ”GODDAMN RIGHT THEY DO!!! I’M VINNY VASSA, THE ONE TRUE HOST OF THIS SHOW AND DON’T YOU EVER FORGET IT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Now that’s debatable.”

VASSA: ”No it isn’t. Ask anyone. I’m the one that keeps folks entertained while you put them to sleep during the matches. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it.”

JOHNSON: ”These people know where the comic relief comes from.”

VASSA: ”THESE PEOPLE?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PEOPLE?!”

JOHNSON: ”I said these people, as in the fans watching tonight and every other night.”

VASSA: ”Sure thing buddy, whatever you say!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not going to sit here and argue with you from the very start of the show, we have a full night ahead of us.”

VASSA: ”You damn right we do! It’s round three of the South Beach Brawl Cup!”

JOHNSON: ”Ding! Ding! Ding! You are correct!”

VASSA: ”I know I’m correct. I told you I’m the brains of this operation and I always, ALWAYS know what I’m talking about.”

JOHNSON: ”Yeah, okay? I’m sure everyone here would love to hear about the high opinion you have of yourself but we have a schedule to keep. We have two matches for the Cup to get to that will determine who will advance to South Beach Brawl to compete for the grand prize.”

VASSA: ”Two weeks ago we watched as Andre Holmes defeated Mark Storm, and Dakota Smith defeated Mariano Fernandez. These two will close out that bracket tonight as Andre Holmes and Dakota Smith are destined to collide in the ring later tonight where the winner will not only receive a 4CW Championship match, but also a fat wad of cold hard cash!”

JOHNSON: ”For those of you not in the know, you heard it right here. Later tonight for round three of the South Beach Brawl Cup we have Andre Holmes who has surprised many by being in the position he is tonight. Then we have Dakota, in the hunt for his second reign as 4CW Champion. Check it out folks.”

VASSA: ”Woah, that’s neat. I wonder how much some nerd behind a computer screen for paid to make that.”

JOHNSON: ”It is neat and as far as pay, that’s beyond my pay scale to know. But what I do know is that our main event is HUGE!”

VASSA: ”Huge like this di–“

JOHNSON: ”WOAH NOW! I meant huge as in Chris Madison versus Bronx Valescence for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”Yeah, and I said huge like this dick! Keep up old man.”

JOHNSON: ”Anyways! Two weeks ago Anastasia Hayden and Chris Madison had a date in the ring. Ana had another date in mind, tonight’s date and the hopes of facing Bronx later on in the evening. Well, unfortunately for her, Chris Madison walked away with the victory, claiming his spot in round three of the Cup.”

VASSA: ”And planning on Bronx being here tonight in the tournament wasn’t a guarantee by any means. Shortly after Ana and Madison had their dance, Genie Carlson and Bronx were set to compete for the round three spot. Bronx managed to make it to April Eleventh and round three, but it wasn’t in the cards for Ana.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a damn shame because it would have been a spectacular match to watch. We, as in us watching, still win either way. Instead of Ana, we have Madison set to face off against Bronx and boy, oh boy, this is a match made for a pay-per-view.”

VASSA: ”Their first match was pay-per-view worthy. Tonight’s is even bigger than that. Bronx was the first one to put Madison down for a three count in a 4CW ring. If I know Madison, and I’m pretty sure that I do, he’s aiming to take back that win here tonight, along with winning a championship that eluded him two years ago during his great undefeated run in 4CW.”

JOHNSON: ”So there you have it folks, our final two from the other bracket of the Cup colliding head to head in the ring tonight right here on Adrenaline Eighty-Three!”

VASSA: ”Daaaaaaamn, would you look at that. That’s just as nice as the other one.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s literally the same thing but with different people.”

VASSA: ”SHUT UP STEVE I KNOW THAT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Didn’t sound like.”

VASSA: ”You know what, you’re getting on my damn nerves. I’m just doing my job, hyping things up here at the booth and here comes Steve, ready to shit all over any and everything.”

JOHNSON: ”That wasn’t my intention one bit. What are you on tonight?”

VASSA: ”Wouldn’t you like to know? It’s my right to disclose that information.”

JOHNSON: ”Okay? Well, while you do that, let’s take a quick look at the South Beach Brawl Cup brackets. It’s been one hell of a tournament and ride for those involved. You could even say this was the best tournament to date.”

VASSA: ”Good. Great. Let’s do that because I’m getting tired of you already!”

The Adrenaline feed cuts backstage and we see Chris Madison bouncing from side to side on his toes, wearing a zip up sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over a flat brimmed baseball cap. Already dressed for action, his fists fly towards the lens of the camera as he shadow boxes to keep himself loose. Tucked away in an isolated corner of the Philips Arena, the challenger in tonight’s main event 4CW Championship match was trying to keep a low profile. Suddenly, Madison stops throwing punches and stops bouncing off of his toes. He stands tall and cracks a smile as his tag team partner, Mark Storm steps into the frame.

STORM: “You nervous?”

Mark asks, with the two embracing each other with a fist bump.

MADISON: “Don’t know if I’d exactly call it nervous. Anxious… I’ve accomplished so much throughout my career and here in 4CW, it just feels like time that I add to all of those accolades with the biggest one yet. How about you? Ready for Alessandro?”

He shrugs his shoulders, a smirk planting upon his lip.

STORM: “I’m easy. Just another five star match to add to the books if you ask me. But yeah man, tonight is a big night but not for me man. Tonight, is about you.”

A gentle slap on the shoulder by Storm.

MADISON: “What’s good for me is good for you, and vice versa. Bronx is an absolute beast, and I’ll surely have my hands full; but you’re match isn’t any less important – especially if we’re goin’ to turn things around and make a run at those tag straps down the road. Alessandro is legit, he’s goin’ to push you to your limits…”

Madison spoke from experience trying to keep his partner focused.

STORM: “Damn right. I’ve had my hands full before and tonight will be no different. I just hope that we can both pull through with the W’s tonight. But man, what happens with Alessandro and I tonight, win or lose, you best believe I’ll still be here rooting for you tonight.”

Chris placed his hands on his hips and momentarily bowed his head.

MADISON: “Well I’m glad you found me before the night got underway. I’m goin’ to have to ask for a favor from you. There’s nothin’ that I’d love more than this match tonight just bein’ about me, Bronx, and the 4CW Championship. But the skeptic in me just won’t believe it. Two weeks ago Cashe wrapped a steel chair around my back. Not to mention, we all saw how the Crooked Kingdom introduced themselves to the company. If some shit goes down tonight, I need you to do me the solid and have my back out there… Like, I need you standin’ by, ready to run out there and thwart any attempt to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

STORM: “You know that you don’t even have to ask me that. I got you, no matter what!”

Chris was suddenly overcome with a sense of relief. Visually, the weight could be seen lifted off of his shoulders. He reaches out and clasps hands with his partner, pulling him in so that their shoulders touch and he reaches around Mark’s back to pat him on the back.

MADISON: “I know Cashe. I know how he thinks. I’ve been through wars with Dakota and Riddle. I know what lengths they’ll go. Tonight should be about the South Beach Brawl Cup. It should be about the 4CW Championship and those fans that are packin’ out arena after arena. Bronx and I, we’re capable of puttin’ on one of the best matches that this company has ever seen; a match worthy of the greatest prize in this industry. And as much as I’d like for that to be the case tonight, my gut is tellin’ me otherwise.”

STORM: “You worry about Bronx. After I’m done with Alessandro, my sights will be solely on the Crooked Kingdom.”

MADISON: “Thanks brother…”

Madison holds his fist out and Storm taps it with his own.

MADISON: “Go steal the show!”

Storm nods his head before leaving Madison to himself. Madison begins bouncing off of the balls of his feet and gets back to throwing a combination of strikes in front of the camera before the feed cuts away.

OPENING MATCH
ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE VS. MARK STORM

After the usual patience being drained due to Alessandro’s obnoxiously long entrance, the match finally begins with Mark rushing Alessandro with a quick takedown of a lariat to get things started. Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa pay close attention to the match as they call it with their differing opinions and occasional spats concerning Vassa’s digs at Mark being called a hero and then his rude comments on Alessandro concerning his divorce. You can tell that Alessandro is definitely not in the mood tonight and seems to have gotten triggered alot easily than normal, maybe due to the rude signs in the crowd directed towards him as he takes it out on Mark, who tries to evade a wild Alessandro as best as he can. Looking like a rabbit trying to escape a coyote, Mark finally is able to attack against Alessandro’s wild swinging by dipping low and catching him in the midsection with two elbow digs. The second one seems to do the trick with breaking through Alessandro’s defense and Mark quickly goes to work with hard open palm strikes that causes Alessandro to take a few steps back and then a spinning back kick that sends Alessandro to the mat. The fans start up a ‘Your Hero And Mine’ fan chant as Mark works Alessandro into the turnbuckle corner but ends up losing his footing and falling down into a seated position and holding his head after Alessandro charges him with a Zidane headbutt.

Mark appears to be in a daze as his head even falls to the side before lifting back up, indicating that the headbutt was more than effective as a satisfied Alessandro reaches down to grab Mark by the arm and begins to pull him onto his feet. Mark’s sudden European Uppercut has Alessandro letting go of his arm and an assortment of strikes follow afterwards as Mark steals the upper hand from Alessandro and tries to give him his just due with transitioning to attacking his knees and shins with kicks, anything to throw Alessandro off balance so he can force him to the mat where he believes he can really cause Alessandro alot more damage. Mark seems to be careful in his movements, still feeling the effects from that headbutt and wanting to make sure his actions arent sloppy as he moves fast but not fast enough to where he’s going to make himself dizzy. Alessandro shoves Mark backwards and then charges him, just to eat a dropkick that sends him straight to the mat and Mark following after him with dropping to his knees quickly to begin grabbing for Alessandro and maneuvering him until he locked in the triangle choke. Alessandro struggles as best as he can to try to break from it and is rewarded elbow strikes to the head every few seconds for his attempts to try to get out of the hold. Mark is reminding the world once again why he isn’t to be taken lightly as he applies even more pressure and has Alessandro struggling even more to break out because he was refusing to tap out.

Mark refuses to end the hold, hoping he can make Alessandro tap out so he could walk away from this opener victorious. The fans are pumped up and into this match while Vassa makes sly remarks that he has to go piss to be a smart ass to make it seem the match isn’t entertaining enough for him, in which Johnson starts lecturing him on trying to downplay such a good match that was ongoing right now. Meanwhile back in the ring, Mark has finally broken the hold on Alessandro since he refuses to submit but he has another plan in mind as he confidently stands to his feet and smiles at how off balance Alessandro appears to be but it only turns out to be a ruse because as soon as Mark steps forward, Alessandro quits his faking and hurriedly makes a grab for Mark to pull him close, going for a belly to belly suplex before dropping to his knees to make the cover. The referee is seconds from hitting the mat a second time but Mark ends up quickly kicking out before the referee could get to that two count. An outraged Alessandro is not happy about this and begins stomping his feet on the mat while arguing with the referee, slapping one hand into the other while scolding the referee and accusing him of counting slowly even though the referee had counted at the normal even pace. The referee assures the fired up Alessandro that he didn’t count too slow but Alessandro isn’t buying it as he turns around to see Mark getting up to his feet and just bolts towards him with no gameplan or nothing, just the strong intent to harm and destroy him.

Mark actually dives out of the way as the crazed Alessandro ends up heading for the ropes and bounces against them but ends up knocked over the ropes from a surprise dropkick from Mark. Falling onto the apron and holding on tightly to the top rope so that he doesn’t fall to the ground, Alessandro tries to regain some kind of balance and finally gets his footing on the apron to his relief. But he still isn’t out of the woods yet because Mark is right there waiting for him as he reaches over the ropes to get a strong grip on him and gets rough with him when he jerks him forward to get close enough so that Mark can pull him in to suplex him back into the ring. For some reason, Vassa calls Mark the f word and a fairy twink which irritates Johnson who goes back to commentating on the match as Alessandro has been laid out from Mark’s Heroes End. Mark starts to go for the cover but a slow moving Alessandro grabs for the bottom rope to pull himself towards the ropes while Mark grabs Alessandro’s legs and begins pulling him back so that he can get away from the ropes and he can pin him and get a three count for the win. But Alessandro isn’t having it and even begins trying to kick his way out of Mark’s strong grasp while also tightening his hold on the ropes. Acting up like a child in Wal-Mart clutched onto the cart throwing a tantrum, Alessandro refuses to let go of the ropes so Mark stops pulling on Alessandro and ends up dropping his legs. Alessandro instantly lights up with a smile thinking he’s won until Mark steps closer just to begin stomping down on his abdomen and chest, even kicking at his sides to get Alessandro to let go of the ropes.

Mark finally gets his way because after awhile, it becomes too much to bear for Alessandro as he lets go of the ropes but sits up so that Mark can’t pin him. Mark just shakes his head and pulls Alessandro to his feet and lifts him up for a spinebuster that has Alessandro clutching his back and yelling out in pain once his back hits the mat. Mark falls to his knees but Alessandro is quickly scooting away while holding his back while Mark just stares at his opponent with an unreadable expression before getting to his feet and meeting Alessandro half way as Alessandro gets to his feet too eagerly, kicking Mark in the abdomen in what seemed to be in a panic. Alessandro suddenly grabs Mark by the back of his head to shove his head down just as Alessandro’s right knee lifts into the air to slam right into Mark’s face as Mark stumbles back in surprise. Alessandro realizes it’s his chance, preparing to go for another Zidane Headbutt but quickly realizing that he might knock himself out in the process this time since Alessandro had made himself dizzy earlier, so he just ends up getting Mark down onto the mat so that he could lock in Sweet Dreams. Mark tries his best not to tap out but ends up succumbing as he taps his hand repeatedly on Alessandro’s arm and the the referee calls for the bell to ring. While Johnson praises both competitors for the match and Alessandro even more for the win, Vassa is busy verbally tearing Mark apart and arguing with Johnson that Alessandro used his ex-wife submission while Johnson tells Vassa to knock it off.

WINNER: Alessandro Quagliaterre via Submission (9:56)

The cameras turn to the backstage hallways, the area of where the locker rooms are. There walking was strangely Viduus Morta’s Speaker…without Viduus in the distance. He had a cautious eye out, glancing at every door he passed for the right one. After some time, his feet stopped at the door that read “HOPKINS” in all capital letters. His knock was eerie, one of a kind, one that right off the bat, you knew it would be his. Laughter and all was heard from the other side of the door before all went quiet. After a delay, the door opened and there stood Jair Hopkins, glaring a hole through Viduus’ Speaker.

HOPKINS: “What?? Why you here again? Our business was done last show!”

Hopkins, looking to close the door rather than wait for an answer from him, the Speaker raised a finger with a slight smirk, initiating that what was showcased last show wasn’t all or so it seemed from the facial display.

SPEAKER: “Well … not quite yet champ.”

HOPKINS: “What do you mean by not quite yet?”

The door went back a bit after hearing that as Hopkins waited.

SPEAKER: “That is precisely why I am here. Yes, I was glad you showcased the footage to give light to Viduus from an unwanted angle. His anger was of the sort that I had not seen before. He says your end will come on live television in front of your fans and family.”

Hopkins slid from behind the door to now closing the door as he stood on the outside. His facial expression changed to serious.

HOPKINS: “He will never get that close! Where the hell is he at?”

The Speaker, taking a deep breath, followed up with reaching into his pocket and pulling out a large, torn piece of paper he folded and gave to Hopkins. Jair opened and looked at it, looking back at the Speaker.

SPEAKER: “There are strange things happening, perhaps his power grows or maybe he is knows something foul is happening with me. Whatever it is…he must be stopped and only you can do it. This is his location tonight as he will be trying to conjure something up. You must go there…you must stop this before it goes too far.”

Hopkins glanced over the paper once again.

HOPKINS: “Is this one hundred?”

SPEAKER: “Yes! He will never expect you as I am that only one trusted with his whereabouts.”

HOPKINS: “I gave you a chance last show, you came clutch…guess I can take your word again to close the deal! We’ll be there!”

The Speaker nodded his head, backing off with a bow and walked away from the area. Jair again looking at the note, opened the door as he made his way back into the locker room as the cameras faded.

UNDERCARD
JACK CALABRESE VS. BRENDEN MORGANSON

Jack went into this match with the intentions of doing whatever possibly necessary to pull off the win and made sure that Brenden knew that when he went for the underhanded tactics whenever the referee wasn’t looking which only happened occasionally. But while Jack was fighting dirty, Brenden stayed fair and allowed his moves to do the talking for him as he put Jack down with a jackhammer suplex that elicits loud cheers from the audience who were on his side tonight. Brenden appreciates the support and shoots two thumbs up to the crowd before turning back to the task at hand which was focusing on the sneaky Jack as he picks himself up from the mat and glares at the approaching Brenden. He allows Brenden to get close enough before he attacks with quickly grabbing Brenden by the throat and hoisting him up into the air for a chokeslam. The audience quickly boos Jack who raises both of his fists high into the air with a smirk as if he’s being cheered before turning back to face his opponent to watch him with a close eye as Brenden gets onto his feet. Both lunge for one another and end up in a tie up that lasts about thirty seconds once Jack knees Brenden in the midsection and pulls his head between his legs, going for a piledriver and seeming to get hype off it once he makes it back onto his feet. As soon as Brenden gets back onto his feet, both men put their fists up and go at it rough for the next two minutes with trying to knock the other’s head off before Brenden steps it up a bit with a clothesline.

VASSA: ”Woooooooow a clothesline, can’t believe Jack is just going to take that.”

JOHNSON: ”Pretty sure he has no choice if the clothesline connects, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Means he just has a weak neck then. He needs to do something about that.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s see you take a clothesline from Brenden just like that and see if you don’t go down the same way that Jack did.”

Jack is back onto his feet just as quickly as his body had hit the mat and Brenden catches him right in the eye with a strong right hook that sends Jack into the ropes, bouncing off as his arm went low while Brenden went to the left to avoid the low blow. The referee keeps eyes firmly on Jack now for trying to attempt that right in front of his eyes while Brenden moves along through the match with focusing on putting Jack down and making sure to keep a closer eye out in case Jack tries to go the dirty route again. Brenden dashes for Jack, looking for a clothesline but Jack ducks that swinging arm and instead grabs him by the wrist to pull him closer for a pumphandle slam and then a quick cover for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TW-KICKOUT!!

Jack manages to kick out right at two but Jack pushes his leg down to pin him again, this time getting a kick out before the referee could even get to one. Giving up, Jack just gets to his feet and roughly pulls Brenden to his while pulling him closer so he could lock in a sleeper hold. Brenden’s arms swing in the arm as he fights through the hold but Jack does nothing but squeeze his neck even more in applying pressure as the referee is nearby with watching Brenden to see what he does. But Brenden refuses to fold and tap to the sleeper hold, instead working his elbow into Jack’s midsection repeatedly until Jack’s hold on him lessens and then drops completely as Brenden quickly spins around to grab Jack and sends him flying with an over the head belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Things are really beginning to pick up for Brenden and Jack is proving to be a formidable opponent. Both men putting in excellent work tonight and not leaving the crowd disappointed one bit.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know about that one, the audience doesn’t seem to care for Jack one bit. Calabrese reminds me of that caprese shit that bitches on a diet get when I hear his name. That shit with the mozzarella and tomatoes. Out here acting like a bad boy when his name reminds me of a cheap salad. “

JOHNSON: ”There is nothing wrong with his name.”

VASSA: ”I wish someone in high school would have tried to bully me with a last name like that, get hit in the face with a salad if he would have tried it.”

Johnson decides to do what he does best besides call matches and ignores the hell out of Vassa while focusing on the match and commentating on it. Jack is mounted on Brenden and has him restrained with his knees holding down Brenden’s arms while his fists connect repeatedly against Brenden’s face while he strains beneath him, unable to block the incoming punches that keep on coming. When Jack finally stops with the punching and rises up from Brenden with his fists in the air to showboat, Brenden is able to reach up to touch his lip and sees that Jack has busted it. Brenden is unappreciative of it but lets be real, who on earth would be okay with getting their lip busted because if it were me, I’d beat that dude ass and the way Brenden raises up it’s starting to look like Jack about to catch them hands again but Jack immediately begins taking step backwards, ducking and dodging Brenden’s swings as if he were some prized boxer trying to mimic Ali but Brenden fakes left and ends up going right, catching Jack right in the jaw and sending his opponent into the ropes. Jack bounces off the ropes and heads back to Brenden only to catch a left to the face that forces him right back against the ropes. Brenden comes at Jack again and this time Jack smartly ducks and rams his shoulder into Brenden’s abdomen to get Brenden to chill out on the punching and swinging while deciding to back up a bit. Brenden finally gets himself together and straightens up, charging at Jack who greets him with a big boot to the face and quickly falls onto Brenden for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

KICKOUT!!!

Jack’s eyes widen at first before narrowing down in irritation at the kickout, instantly getting up onto his feet and yanking Brenden onto his to spin him around so he could go for a bulldog but Brenden’s elbow flies back and catches Jack in the face before that could even go into full effect. Jack stumbles back, his hand rising to dab against his top lip as he pulls his hand away once he feels moisture to look at his fingers to see a bit of blood instead of saliva.

VASSA: ”Awwwww they busted each other’s lips tonight, now they’re twins.”

JOHNSON: ”Is that really necessary, Vinny?”

Brenden comes for a ready Jack who quickly swings on him, catching Brenden in the jaw as he takes two steps back and Jack jumps onto the turnbuckle to quickly jump back down to catch Brenden with a double axe handle to temporarily put him down for a few seconds. Jack is reaching down for Brenden but Brenden has other plans as he kicks Jack in the face and helps himself onto his feet, trading punches with Jack once Jack has recovered from the kick to the face and ends up getting the upper hand on Jack with Exiled, taking the pin immediately but was granted only a two once Jack kicks out at the last second. Brenden stands up as he tries to mentally regroup since he thought that he would for sure get the three but his confidence doesn’t falter as he readies himself for anything that Jack throws at him. Jack comes at Brenden with a few chest slaps and chops that seem to get become more powerful with each hit that follows that’s looking to really get to Brenden from the way he steps back to the point he almost stumbles. Seeming to boom with energy with thinking the end was near, Jack steps forward and doesn’t realize that yes the end is near but Brenden won’t be the one with the short end of the stick as Brenden quickly attacks with making a grab for it as the B-More Bomb goes into full effect and he goes for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

Brenden is declared the victor as his hand is raised up high into the air by the referee and the Corners Four fans cheer and applaud him for a job well done. The cameraman zooms in on Jack to capture the disapproval and anger written all over his face before cutting back to the smiling Brenden as he celebrates for a bit while the camera fades out on him.

WINNER: Brenden Morganson via Pinfall (9:47)

Smoke rising, almost dancing off the orange embers of the lit cigarette that sits in between the lips of Dakota Smith. Dakota was in the backstage area, sitting in a chair that obviously had one leg shorter than the others giving the man a slight… Crooked posture. In the background you can see fellow Crooked Kingdom members, Jason Cashe and Cyrus Riddle. They are having their own little conversation, Cashe using a lot of hand movements and Cyrus seemingly being more be bewildered by every word of the Spessal one. Dakota pays them no attention however, instead he removes the cigarette between his lips and flicks it off the the side of him.

SMITH: ”Crooked be thy Kingdom, and violence by thy path. The way to the tippy-top of the mountain, the road that leads you never never land. Do you all get what I am saying? No? It doesn’t matter anyways. What does matter is you Andre. The man who wants to legitimize being the good guy, another two-bit hero trying to save the world one mediocre statement at a time. When you talk Andre? All I hear is pander bullshit, you want everyone to like you – you want these maggots to like you. And you’d rather do that, then say, get a fucking edge and really live that relentless lifestyle you so forcibly try and shove down people’s throats.”

Dakota spits on the ground, a devilish smirk growing across he runs his fingers through his hair.

SMITH: ”This is your chance Andre! Your moment! But you are too fucking stupid to capitalize on it, you are to fucking pathetic to do what needs to be done in order to beat me. You boldly claimed it, you’re the good guy! The hero! You learned nothing from my last match against Manny. He also wanted to play by the rules, be the good guy… And he fucking got kneed in the back of the head like a dead little hero. You’ll follow that same fate here tonight Andre, because you’re just not fucking good enough! You? Main eventing South Beach Brawl? No fucking way Andre, I won’t allow it. I’m going to fucking destroy to-”

It’s at that moment he is interrupted by a seemingly distraught Jason Cashe.

CASHE: ”OH YEAH WELL I’M GONNA GO JERK OFF!”

This distracts Dakota, as he swings himself around the chair and looks back just as Cashe storms out of the room. Riddle looks at Dakota with a very confused look on his face.

RIDDLE: ”He was rock fuckin hard mate.”

There is a silence after Riddle says this, as the awkward levels raise in the room. Dakota looks back to the camera and shakes his head a little bit as the camera fades away into the next scene.

Hustling into position a camera crew catches an argument going on at one of the security checkpoints backstage. Why 4CW has security is anyone’s guess because things like kidnapping of children and midget clowns being tossed into the crowd happen on the regular and nobody bats an eyelash. Pinkman, or whoever the hell was in charge of security these days, apparently attempted to do their job or at least make it look like they were doing their job. Without Sabrina Wallace around to make things messy and get kidnapped, though, they rarely had anything to do. Tonight seemed to be one of those rare nights where they did, in fact, have something to do.

? ? ?: “Mother fucker my name is right there! It’s on the list. See it. Look, go ask for Hoppy, man. He know me. Go ask for Ms. Phe. She know me. Go ask for that fine ass biddy Dr. Patton. SHE KNOW ME!”

The security guard, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to be buying into his story at all which only exacerbated the problem even more.

SECURITY GUARD: “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down and take a step back.”

Outraged, the man trying to get in seemed to lose his cool then.

? ? ?: “NIGGA YOU TAKE A STEP BACK! The name is Terrence Carter. Use that education I know all you white people get that you don’t want a man like me to have and read that paper. My name is there.”

In his excitement Terrence got to close to the security guard, bumping into him and knocking him back a step.

SECURITY GUARD: “Sir I’m going to ask you one last time. Take a step back or you will be removed from the building by force.”

Face contorting in shock and disgust at the same time, Terrence nearly comes unglued at the notion that he might be forced out of the building that he was just trying to get into. This was supposed to be a special night. His family was going to be proud of him. He was going to be able to provide for his mama and all that stuff that you hear them talking about on television before the NFL draft and what not.

CARTER: “OH HELL NAW! You ain’t gonna Rodney King me. I know you got a bunch of them Jason Bourne types on the payroll but you ain’t gonna do me like that. Imma get on my phone and make one call to my friend Reverend Al. You ain’t gonna do me like this you bet your ass.”

Reaching into his pocket Terrence pulls out a phone at that suddenly gets the security guards full attention. Whether or not the man actually believed he had a phone number for Al Sharpton (he didn’t) was one thing. But he wasn’t about to risk ending up on national television being accused of excessive use of force or white privilege or any of that shit that people like him didn’t want to acknowledge actually existed in the world. Running his finger down the paper, he found Terrence’s name.

SECURITY GUARD: “Sir. Sir. You don’t need to do that. My mistake. Your name is right here. Please…”

Gesturing with his hand, the security guard motioned for Terrence to get past his checkpoint and fully into the backstage area. Nodding his head like he’d just won the most important argument of his life, Terrence strutted past the security guard with all the swagger he could muster.

CARTER: “Yeahhhhh. That’s right muh-fucker. You damn right your white ass is sorry.”

As soon as he stepped beyond the boundaries of the security checkpoint his whole demeanor changed, lighting up with joy as he laughed obnoxiously in the face of the security guard, showing that he had just been looking at instagram, flashing the phone screen in the mans face.

CARTER: “Bruhhh you a dumb ass nigga you know that. You think Reverend Al gonna have my number? Well he don’t. Not yet at least. But he will. Bet your white ass he will.”

Swooping around behind the security guard, Terrence quickly snapped a selfie with the man who didn’t seem to be enjoying himself at all.

CARTER: “AYO MAMA I MADE IT! HAHA! YOUR BABY BOY IS HERE IN THE CORNERS FOUR!”

Strutting down the hallway, the camera’s focused on him until finally fading elsewhere.

UNDERCARD
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
PAUL MALL VS. RORIE STEELE VS. KIMITSU ZOMBIE

As we cut back to ringside, a haze of smoke hovers above the ring as if something were on fire and burning underneath. There was no fire, other than the cherry at the end of Paul Mall’s cigarette. Puffing away, Paul leans against the corner with an arm on top of the ropes of each side, and a cigarette hanging from his lips, puffing away like a chimney. Not amused, Kimitsu mouths off about the sight and Paul’s lack of attention. If he wasn’t going to pay attention to what’s right in front of him, Kimitsu was going to make damn sure that she brought all of her attention to him. Waving off Rorie who watches from the corner with her arms crossed, Kimitsu marches across the ring, straight for Paul. Snatching the cigarette from his mouth, she throws it to the mat before stomping on it. With another pack on the apron, Paul squats down and reaches through the ropes, grabbing the small box. After flipping the top open, he pulled it to his mouth to grab one from the pack but before you knew it, cigarettes were flying in every direction. Kicking Paul in the back of the head as he dismissed her, Kimitsu had enough and was ready to do what she came here to do this evening.

Attacking Paul from behind as he was squatting in the ring wasn’t the ideal way to start a match, but things happen in the heat of the moment and here we are. With Paul knocked against the corner, Kimitsu wasn’t giving him anywhere to flee as she stomped down onto him over and over, blocking his passage of escape from the assault she brought to his front door. Kimitsu continued this ruthless assault on Paul for nearly a minute as he couldn’t even defend himself, not once. Rorie, who was probably bored watching this go down, wanted in on the action as well. Pulling Kimitsu away from Paul, Rorie spun her around and greeted her with a swift kick to the stomach. As Kimitsu buckled over, Rorie wrapped an arm around her head and locked her in. Jumping into the air, Rorie reached as high as she could before gravity pulled her back down, swinging her body and planting Kimitsu’s head into the canvas with an implant DDT. Kimitsu’s legs went straight up before flipping over to her back. Back on her feet, Rorie spotted Paul in the corner of her eye, pulling himself back to his feet. Just as he stood, Rorie rushed in and hit him with a running knee to the gut. Out of breath, Paul walked away from the corner while lunged over. Stopping to catch his breath, which was going to be quite difficult due to the fact that he just pulled a cigarette out from his boot and placed it into his mouth, Paul remained in the same spot long enough for Rorie to run up behind him and drop him face down to the mat with a running bulldog.

Rorie rolled him over to make the cover and just as she did, Kimitsu grabbed her leg and dragged her off of Paul, before the official could even make a one count. Rolling over to her back, Rorie pulled her knee to her chest and kicked her leg straight, hitting Kimitsu in the stomach with it. Rorie then went to give Kimitsu another kick but before contact could be made, Kimitsu caught her foot. Holding her leg up with one arm, Kimitsu swung her body around and went down, dropping an elbow to the inside of Rorie’s knee. Back on her feet, Kimitsu went to town on Rorie’s knee with rapid stomps. Finally growing tired of the knee attack, Kimitsu then jumped into the air and came down, landing on top of Rorie with a fury of lefts and rights. After nearly half a dozen blows, Kimitsu locked onto Rorie’s head and began slamming it down onto the mat over and over again. As Kimitsu went for the fourth slam, out of nowhere Paul rushed into the scene, tackling Kimitsu from the side and knocking her off of Rorie. Paul fought for position on top of Kimitsu but lost it immediately as Kimitsu slipped out from underneath him. The two raced to their feet, Kimitsu rising first and before Paul could push himself up from one knee, Kimitsu was hitting the ropes in front of him and rushing back in with an enzuigiri that completely leveled him. Paul was knocked senseless, even climbing back to his feet. Although he was seeing stars and wobbling back and forth, he was standing on his own. From behind, Kimitsu grabbed Paul with a groin claw before lifting him up and slamming him to the mat with a suplex. It was Ballsplex City with a population of one, Paul Mall!

Stalking her, Rorie stood back and watched as Kimitsu popped back to her feet with a newfound energy. Crashing the party, Rorie too her shot and went in unexpected. From behind, Rorie grabbed ahold of Kimitsu’s head and locked in a headlock. There was a struggle from Kimitsu but it was only brief before Rorie pulled her down across her knee with a backbreaker. Looking across the ring, Rorie locked her eyes on Paul as he slowly climbed to his feet. As he stood and began to turn around to face the action, Rorie popped up from a three-point stance and annihilated him with a spear. Back to her feet, Rorie stood over Paul and began to mock and taunt him. She even wiped the bottom of her boots across his chest before stepping over him and going towards the corner. At the top, she turned to face the ring and right there ahead looking straight at her was Kimitsu and she was coming for her. With kimitsu quickly approaching, Rorie improvised and leaped from the corner with a double axe-handle aimed for Kimitsu. Jumping into the air as well, Kimitsu stopped Rorie in mid air with a kick to the stomach. The two dropped to their feet and Rorie immediately bent over with the wind knocked out of her. Kimitsu then hit her with an axe kick to the back of the head, knocking Rorie face down to the mat. Kimitsu stepped towards Rorie but to her right was Paul and the guy just would not stay down and wait until after the match to have a smoke. For good measure, Kimitsu blindsided him with an axe kick to the back of his head, knocking him down and out cold. Back to back God Kicks and both opponents were down. Dropping to her knees, Kimitsu rolled Paul to his back before making the cover. Rushing in beside them was the official with the one, two, and the three!

WINNER: Kimitsu Zombie via Pinfall (9:39)

The cameras trail the two, Jair Hopkins and his partner, Boogie as the two are in their jackets. The fast-paced movement leads them towards the parking garage. Boogie, all of a sudden stops behind Jair as Jair steadily walks off.

BOOGIE: “YO!”

The hard, strong yell from Boogie caused Jair to pause mid-step, causing him to stumble slightly. He turned around, a good five feet from Boogie as he pointed his watch to Boogie.

HOPKINS: “We need to get there ASAP fam! Our only shot needs to count heavily!”

BOOGIE: “Yeah I know, but what if…?”

Hopkins, hands went to his hips.

HOPKINS: “If what, Boogie?”

Boogie sighed, seeing as Hopkins vision wasn’t clear enough for him obviously.

BOOGIE: “What if this is all a plan. I mean come on, this is some Horror Movie setup nonsense. For you not to see that, you’re blinded by rage. I need you to see clearly here.”

HOPKINS: “I see very clearly here. An open opportunity to get a heads up on my opposition. I see a clear path to redemption. That Speaker guy just handed me details that…”

BOOGIE: “Leads right into a black hole! You know I’m with you all day but I mean this is strange.”

Hopkins switched his stance as he looked at Boogie and his thoughts that were just tossed at him. Hopkins walked up a bit to Boogie.

HOPKINS: “I get you always lookin out for me like usual but I gotta take this. He got a deadpoint on him now. He’s in a vulnerable spot. Just trust my decision-making one time!”

BOOGIE: “Aight then!”

Boogie, albeit losing the challenge to override Jair’s mindset, he followed along after his buddy anyway as they got to the car, got in and after moments later, pulled out and took off in a hurry. Cameras followed until there was nothing more.

UNDERCARD
LUKE JONES VS. JASON CASHE

Starting things off with some back and forth talk in the center of the ring, Cashe and Luke threw their best insults at the person standing across from them. Bursting into laughter, Luke didn’t know exactly how to react to Cashe’s last words. Something about a milk shake and not being able to taste peanut butter. His laughter then came to an abrupt stop before the threw a right hook, catching Cashe off guard and knocking him backwards into the ropes. Running forward, Luke hit Cashe with a clothesline as he was backed against the ropes, lifting him off his feet and completely flipping him backwards over the top rope. Cashe managed to land on his feet to the apron using the ropes to guide him. Unfortunately for him both of his hands were wrapped around the top rope, leaving him no means of defense as Luke slammed his head forward, hitting Cashe with a headbutt right between the eyes. Still holding onto the top rope, Cashe remained on his feet still. Luke then threw a right over the ropes and connected with a blow to the side of Cashe head, then another, and then another. Cashe just would not let go of the ropes, holding on for dear life even though the fall wasn’t even that big. Grabbing Cashe and pulling him against the ropes, Luke then ripped Cashe’s hands away from the top rope before locking on the back of his head and walking him towards the corner. Luke then slammed Cashe’s head down, which would have been a direct hit of Cashe’s face onto the corner post had Cashe not threw his hands up, stopping his movement forward and a splitting headache which would have been the result. Throwing his arm to the side, Cashe connected with an elbow to the side of Luke’s jaw, enough to cause him to release Cashe. Turning to face Luke, Cashe threw a right hook over the top rope, clocking Luke right in the eye. Luke stumbled to the side, and Cashe shot up the corner. Not wasting anytime, Cashe then leaped through the air, spearing Luke straight down to the mat.

For minutes the match remained down on the mat as Cashe always secured position on top. Finding an opening, Cashe connected with an elbow directly in the center of Luke’s forehead. Luke’s head slammed against the mat and before he knew it, Cashe transitioned his attack to gorilla styled fists, raining and thundering down onto Luke’s chest. After a few clubs to Luke’s chest, Cashe then raised both arms up and yelled as loudly as he could “RRAAAWWWHHH!!! LIGHT THAT SHIT UP!!!” before slamming both fists down at the same exact time onto Luke’s chest. Exhaling loudly through his nose like a gorilla, Cashe pushed himself up to his feet while pressing his fists down onto Luke’s chest even harder. Spotting Luke’s arm stretched out and his fingers extended, Cashe then jumped up and stomped down onto Luke’s fingers. Pulling Luke up to his feet, Cashe kept his head held close with a side headlock. With his free hand, Cashe then gave Luke a noogie before lifting his leg up and driving his knee upward into Luke’s face. Still holding onto him, Cashe then pulled Luke’s head between his legs before wrapping him up and dropping him flat on his head with a sit-down piledriver. Cashe went for the cover, but Luke still had some fight in him as he kicked out just before the two.

The next little bit to follow featured Cashe completely in full control of the matchup, slowly wearing Luke down with violent slams. After pulling Luke to his feet, Cashe then whipped him to the ropes and chased behind him shortly after. Luke hit the ropes and right ahead was Cashe, charging in. Quick on his feet, Luke then side stepped Cashe, tripping him up with a drop toe hold and knocking Cashe down forward, throat across the middle rope. Cashe’s arms were draped over the middle rope as he remained hanging there. Turning to the ropes across the ring, Luke was off to the races. Bouncing off and coming back across the ring at full speed, Luke then leaped forward, kicking his feet forward but spread and landing crotch to the back of Cashe’s head. Connecting with the reverse bronco buster, Luke then grabbed the ropes and used them for leverage as he remained on top of Cashe’s shoulders, applying all of his weight onto Cashe and choking him with the middle rope. Luke hasn’t ever appeared to be having this much fun before. Something about his crotch to the back of someone else’s head has never felt so good. At least that’s what someone would think witnessing this. In fact, Luke was so consumed in the moment that he couldn’t even hear the official standing beside him, within inches of his ear, yelling into it as loudly as possible. By the time Luke finally noticed the official, he was up to a four count. A look of disappointment came across Luke’s face as he stood off of Cashe just before the five count disqualification.

After a lecture from the official and not paying attention to a single word that was said, Luke brushed by the official and quickly walked across the ring towards Cashe. Just as Cashe stood to his feet, Luke was right there to put him back down with a dropkick to the side of the knee. With Cashe down, Luke began hitting him with repeated elbows to the upper body. Up and down, up and down, Luke appeared to be wearing himself out more than his opponent. It definitely had nothing to do with the condition of his lungs after living in a smoke stack for the last few weeks. Pulling Cashe to his feet, Luke then lifted him up onto his shoulders in a firemans carry. Back stepping to the center of the ring, Luke then dropped Cashe straight to the mat with a neckbreaker. Making the cover, Luke only managed to get a one and a half count before Cashe quickly popped an elbow up from the mat. With an open hand, Luke then swung down, slapping Cashe across the face as hard as he could. Cashe looked shocked by it more than anything. Before he could react, Luke then threw his head down, hitting Cashe with a headbutt and knocking the back of Cashe’s head against the mat. With Cashe in a daze, Luke stood tall and pulled Cashe to his feet. Holding the back of Cashe’s head and keeping him bent over, Luke then walked him over to the corner. Standing in front of it, Luke then lifted Cashe upside down before throwing him into the corner with a powerbomb. Keeping Up With The Jones and Luke was also probably jonesing for a cigarette but the fact remained, Cashe was down! Dragging Cashe away from the corner, Luke then made the cover as the official raced in with the count. One… Two… NO! Cashe, wasn’t staying down, not just yet.

Luke was mad! He didn’t know how much longer he could go without satisfying his nicotine craving. On his feet, he kicked Cashe a few times as he remained down, more than likely blaming him for the withdrawal he was experiencing. Rolling Cashe over to his stomach, Luke then squatted down and dug both hands underneath Luke’s body, locking them underneath as he now had both arms wrapped around Luke. Deadlifting Cashe, Luke powered down and pulled him off the mat as he stood straight up. Before Luke could fall back to execute the deadlifting German suplex, Cashe threw a blind elbow back, hitting the bullseye as he literally hit Luke directly in the eye. Luke had no choice but to release Cashe as he stumbled back and step and quickly brought his hand to his eye. Spinning around, Cashe extended both arms out and as he faced Luke, he swung them in, hitting Luke on both ears with a double ear slap. That’s when the ringing began, at least for Luke. Not only was he half blind, he now had to deal with an irritating ringing between his ears. Stepping in, Cashe then wrapped Luke up and lifted him off his feet before slamming him to the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Pulling Luke back to his feet, Cashe then hit him with back to back jabs before connecting with a straight then nearly dropped Luke to his knees. Stepping in beside Luke, Cashe then grabbed ahold of him before dropping him to his back with a Russian leg sweep. Although Luke was half blind and now deaf, he still somehow managed to push himself to his feet. Looking on, Cashe was impressed that Luke was still up on his own will. He wasn’t impressed for long because like always, Luke had to ruin something and this time it was the props he was receiving. Swinging blind, Luke threw lefts and rights in Cashe’s direction. He didn’t connect with a single one, instead he eventually wore himself down. Throwing one last desperation punch, Luke came within inches of Cashe head before Cashe ducked underneath and stepped in behind him. Grabbing Luke by the shoulder, Cashe then spun him around and as the two locked eyes, Cashe leveled him with Mark of Jason, dropping him to the mat with a vicious elbow strike. Luke fell backwards into the ropes nearby, hitting them and bouncing forward into Cashe’s arms. Lifting Luke into the air, Cashe then turned completely around before dropping him to the mat with a pop-up sit-down spinebuster. Luke was completely out cold from the Trouble Maker and rolling over him, Cashe had him shoulders to the mat as the official slid in with the one, two, and the three!

WINNER: Jason Cashe via Pinfall (14:01)

The focus shifts backstage in the lobby where the cameras are locked on in on Alessandro Quagliaterre. He is dressed like a hoodlam, with Reebok basketball pumps, grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie, with a snapback baseball cap with the Atlanta Hawks emblem on the front. Walking as if a plug were stuck up his butt, leaning to one side with a limp in his walk, Gabriel Hartman notices this strange behavior, and quickly approaches him

HARTMAN: “Alessandro… what on earth are you doing?”

Alessandro does some weird what appears to be gang signs with his hands infront of Hartman’s face

QUAGLIATERRE: “None of your business.”

He continued with the peculiar hand gestures.

HARTMAN: “Well… earlier on tonight you were impressive in your match against Mark Storm. What is next in your plans…”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Hold Up.”

He stopped with the wacky hand signs, and stared gingerly at Gabriel Hartman. Hartman awaited for him to continue.

HARTMAN: “…??”

But Alessandro did not.

HARTMAN: “I was expecting you to say something.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “You were what? Expecting to try to conduct an interview without pre-authorisation from me? I may have a few screws loose, but I’m not that silly. Come on now.”

HARTMAN: “Come on. Give me something.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “I am not discussing what happened tonight?”

Alessandro hopped on the spot, and then searched for the exits of the Philips Arena.

HARTMAN: “Wait are you leaving? That’s very unprofessional, the show is still ongoing.”

Usually Alessandro would have ignored Hartman, but he struck a nerve by calling him unprofessional.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Unprofessional? You want to talk to me about being unprofessional?”

An irritated expression emerged on his face.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Unprofessional? Would be what you witnessed a few minutes ago. Jason Cashe decimated Luke Jones. How many opportunities is that idiot going to get to prove he might actually amount to something. That’s unprofessional. Or how about two weeks removed from taking me to the limit and beating me, Aidan Carlisle has gone MIA. Aidan Carlisle and Cyrus Riddle will not be competing tonight for whatever excuse they have. That’s unprofessional. As for me, I am not leaving, I am going for a jog outside the Philips Arena. ”

HARTMAN: “Ohh. So that is why you’re dressed like that?”

Alessandro looked puzzle

QUAGLIATERRE: “How am I meant to be dressed?”

Alessandro stepped closer to Hartman, to make him feel his presence.

HARTMAN: “You look OG. It was a compliment.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “I am dressed appropriately for a mini run. I do not look OG.”

HARTMAN: “Well, before you go for your jog or run. If you do not want to talk to me about your involvement here tonight. Would you care to shed some light on why you were on Octane last week. And what were you thinking when you headbutted Tornado Desencadenado to oblivion?”

Alessandro chuckled.

QUAGLIATERRE: “Firstly. I can go wherever I want. Whenever I want. It amazes me that a whole roster full of talent on Octane, with Tornado who might easily be one of the most popular wrestlers on Octane, and nobody wants to legitimately take his Vertigone Challenge. Tornado had to practically beg me to come do his competition, and I do not like seeing people beg, it’s pathetic. So not only did I go down to Octane to make Tornado’s day, because I’m a saint. I then complete his Vertigone Challenge for the second time, the only person to ever do that. I set it in an unbelievable amount of time which must have been at least four or five seconds. No exaggeration. And that cuck has the audacity to tell me I did it in sixteen seconds? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!”

He shouts down Hartman’s ear.

QUAGLIATERRE: “So I laid Tornado out, with one headbutt. For that was all it took. And I left that fool to think over his blatant disrespect towards me. Then I skipped out of there.”

HARTMAN: “So you are not aware of who the new President of Operations and Octane GM is?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “No. Terrible that Mr Walker had to relinquish his post. I wish him well in his future endeavors.”

HARTMAN: “Seriously? You don’t know?”

QUAGLIATERRE: “I left. I have places to be. I’m a busy guy. I had to go take care of my kids, and appear via hologram like Tupac did once at a concert, except I did it at a Toronto Frost football game.”

HARTMAN: “Umm…”

Before Hartman could tell Alessandro the news that Phoenix was now in charge of Octane. They were interrupted by Tornado Desencadenado who was making a surprise appearance on Adrenaline. The Whirlwind Wunderkind was dressed in a now surely to be a collector’s item Sentinel Wrestling Alliance tee shirt and a pair of dungarees. He spoke to Hartman.

DESENCADENADO: “Excuse us, Gabe.”

The interviewer, smart enough to know things could very likely turn heated between the 4CW superstars, stepped out of frame, but not before gesturing his cameraman to stay in position so he record whatever happened next..

QUAGLIATERRE: “Oh Great you’ve come here for revenge looking like Skippy the Kangaroo. Take off that trash t-shirt Desencadenado nobody gives a shit about Sentinels unless it’s X-Men. What are you doing here? I didn’t invite you. Fuck off back to Octane. You aren’t going to do nothing. You’re a pussy. I made you my bitch last week and you’re still my bitch. What you going to do about it. Huh?”

Tornado thought for a moment. He rubbed his lantern jaw contemplatively, as if he were considering the best way to put what he felt needed to be said. Then, stepping back, he delivered a sick roundhouse kick to the side of Alessandro’s head, dropping him like a stone.

HARTMAN: “Holy crap!”

With Quaggliaterre sprawled out on the concrete floor, Tornado Desencadenado squatted down on his haunches next to him.

DESENCADENADO: “That makes us even. You want to keep on, we can do it in the ring. Yours or mine it doesn’t matter to me.”

And with that declaration Tornado Desencadenado rose and walked off, leaving Alessandro to recover from the ambush.

UNDERCARD
ALEXIS MERCER VS. NURSE KINSLEY

VASSA: ”And now we have reached the crazy bitch match, this should go well. Who you got winning this, Steve?”

JOHNSON: ”How about we wait until the competitors make it out to the ring first before you start picking and choosing who you think is going to win.”

VASSA: ”My money is on Kinsley, she went up in my book after banging Kimitsu’s dad. Alexis has just been here doing nothing spectacular, I mean she doesn’t have that grit to really go far to pushing buttons.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think we should be condoning people getting personal and sleeping with their opponents’ parents.”

VASSA: ”Shiiiiit, why not?? Hell, Dawn Marie’s ass did it to Torrie Wilson’s old man.”

JOHNSON: ”Are you really going to go there to try to prove a point here??”

POWERS: ”The following match 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!!!”

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.

VASSA: ”Wish she’d be anti-alive.”

Johnson just shakes his head at his partner as the transitioning between themes begins with Kinsley’s arrival coming up as 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 while Alexis keeps that eagle eye locked tightly on her opponent.

DING!!! DING!!!

Although both women step towards each other, Alexis is the first one to actually swing first as she sprints towards Kinsley and immediately goes for a dropkick that Kinsley side steps to the side, watching Alexis’ go down to the mat before she leans down to grab a fistful of Alexis’ hair to pull her up by. Alexis swings on her and Kinsley backhands her before going for a jumping DDT, standing to her feet and looking satisfied afterwards. Alexis grabs Kinsley’s ankles and yanks back in an attempt to try to make her go crashing to the mat but she didn’t yank hard enough as Kinsley leans down to pinch and pry Alexis’ fingers off of her and once she’s successful in doing so, Kinsley stomps down hard on those fingers.

VASSA: ”DAMN, Kinsley is just as nasty as she wants to be, meaner than a rattlesnake… my kind of woman.”

JOHNSON: ”Any woman is your kind of woman.”

VASSA: ”Bull fuckin shit, I’m not Kessler and I have standards higher than Jimmy when he’s hyped up on his dru- errrrr, prescription pills.”

JOHNSON: ”Lets not with any Jimmy jokes.”

VASSA: ”Too soon??”

The tilt-a-while headscissors takedown put Kinsley on the ground and Alexis high in confidence as she moves quickly around on the mat, her eyes locked airtight like a missile on it’s target as she stares at Kinsley, watching her get up from the mat and stalking her as if she were her prey. Alexis gets closer and closer, vowing to make a move and is caught completely off guard once Kinsley spins around to face her and manages to get her hands on her with no problem since Alexis wasn’t expecting such a sudden attack. Dropdown neckbreaker and Kinsley is back to controlling the match and wastes no time in starting for Alexis again, leaving no room to take a breather or anything. Besides it’s not even halfway through the match, they both better be all nice and energized for this, the Corners Four don’t hire no slouches! Alexis blasts Kinsley in the face with a spinning heel kick and then ends up flipping Kinsley off as she towers over her body.

JOHNSON: ”How is that for grit, Vinny? Alexis seems to be on fire tonight.”

VASSA: ”You call that fire? HA! I hope Kinsley screws someone in Alexis’ family next… or does she not have one? I can’t keep up, about ninety six percent of the wrestling universe are parent-less. You’d think this was a comic con for Batman.”

JOHNSON: ”Moving on back to the match, a reverse frankensteiner by Alexis who seems to be keeping a good amount of space between her and Kinsley to avoid any sudden attacks. I always say that when it comes to Kinsley, you have to always stay on your toes because she can strike when unexpected to.”

VASSA: ”Since she goes for the unexpected, think she’ll leave with me tonight after the show?”

Johnson couldn’t help but to roll his eyes and exhale with a sigh but meanwhile inside of the ring, Kinsley had gotten the upper hand on Alexis and seemed to be enthused with how hard Alexis’ body hit her knee from a slingshot backbreaker. She watches Alexis writhe around in pain on the mat and takes a step towards her, watching Alexis roll away from Kinsley as far away as the ring would allow her to so that she could nurse her aching back. Alexis needed a minute, Kinsley only gave her half of it before she started towards her with that intent to harm evident in her eyes as she pulls Alexis to her feet and grabs underneath her arms to hold tight while forcing her back so that Alexis’ back could ram into the turnbuckle.

Those howls of pain escape her mouth and it only encourages Kinsley to do it some more until Alexis is full on holding her back and arching like crazy. Kinsley isn’t done but Alexis decides that she is once she swings an elbow to catch Kinsley in the face to force her a couple steps back while Alexis leans against the turnbuckle. Kinsley makes a dash towards Alexis and Alexis reaches back to hold onto the ropes to lift up so that she could kick Kinsley square in the face. With fire in her eyes, Alexis attacks repeatedly without hesitation or taking breaks, feeling the pain in her back but it only motivates her to hit Kinsley harder and put her down that much more as she pulls out all kinds of moves from her arsenal to try to battle her opponent with.

Kinsley had just gotten to her feet from a cradle piledriver but here goes Alexis wasting no time, pulling her in for a fisherman neckbreaker and then goes for a quick cover but Kinsley is pushing Alexis off of her as soon as her body had laid on top of her. Kinsley sits up and when Alexis leans down to reach for Kinsley, but ends up grabbing nothing but air once Kinsley pulls back out of her reach and instead backhands with enough power to send Alexis to the mat while Kinsley rises to her feet.

VASSA: ”Look at her…. aint she a beaut?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s been a real tug of war between the two tonight to the point the match could go either way. Both are staying on top of things and giving it their all-“

VASSA: ”Kinsley really seemed to do some damage to Alexis’ back. You think Kinsley did a number on Kimitsu’s dad’s back, eh Steve?”

Of course Johnson ignores him while watching Alexis drive her foot into the spine of Kinsley’s, seeming to really want to do enough damage that would require a hospital visit after the hurting that Kinsley put on her back. After that, Kinsley moves in a way where you can tell the kick to the spine did something, even though it wasn’t severe it still seemed to hurt like shit with the way Kinsley gets onto her feet. Kinsley kicks at Alexis and Alexis grabs for that leg and counters with a dragon screw leg whip, quickly closing in on Kinsley afterwards for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Alexis was halfway to a three count but Kinsley wasn’t having it.”

VASSA: ”The AUDACITY for Alexis to go for a pinfall.”

JOHNSON: ”I couldn’t agree more especially in a wrestling match, how dare she.”

VASSA: ”I don’t need your damn sarcasm either.”

Alexis wasn’t expecting that handspring enzuigiri from Kinsley nor the swinging neckbreaker that followed as soon as she rose to her feet as Kinsley really seemed to up with the speed compared to a few moments ago and was all over the place inside of the ring. Her movements may seem impulsive but she made sure that they were also deadly whenever she touched Alexis as she watches Alexis get to her feet and rushes forward to attack again, seeing Alexis about to attack so Kinsley goes for a dropkick as her feet plant into Alexis’ chest and almost sends her over the nearby ropes.

Alexis came with it hard on the attack, Kinsley catching the 20 Eyes like the holy ghost as she goes down onto the mat. Definitely so hyped up that she didn’t even feel the pain in her back from how high the adrenaline rush was right now, Alexis steps carefully towards the downed Kinsley because she knows that now is definitely not the time to be falling into any sudden traps. Kinsley isn’t moving and it raises Alexis’ confidence even higher now as she leans down so that she can begin pulling Kinsley onto her feet.

Seeing Forever Night as the perfect finish for the match, Alexis goes for it but Kinsley finally snaps out of playing fake dazed and weak as she delivers elbows to Alexis’ face repeatedly before grabbing her by the head and turning with the grip tightening on Alexis as Kinsley takes off for the closest turnbuckle. Her foot steps onto the second post as she flips back, Sobredosis proving to be successful as Kinsley instantly goes for the pin with no hesitation.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!!

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

POWERS: ”And here is your winner by pinfall… NURSE KKIINNSSLLEEYY!!!”

JOHNSON: ”An excellent match put on by both women but Nurse Kinsley proved tonight that she just wanted it alot more than Alexis Mercer did.”

VASSA: ”I told you… Alexis lacks the grit.”

JOHNSON: ”Only thing she lacked tonight was picking up the win, Vinny but as far as her wrestling ability, Alexis has proved time and time again that she is just fine in the wrestling department. She does not need to stoop to any lows especially if she can handle her own inside of a wrestling ring.”

VASSA: ”Only thing she handled tonight was taking an L.”

WINNER: Nurse Kinsley via Pinfall (10:12)

Backstage, the camera rolls with Anastasia Hayden standing right in the center of it, in front of a white wall. She’s got her sunglasses resting up on her forehead and there’s a slight frown on her face at the start, but only for a moment as she looks more stoic.

HAYDEN: ”Tonight…tonight wasn’t what I planned for. Tonight was supposed to see me in that main event slot, standing across the ring from Bronx Valescence…but I’m not. All because I failed. I let Bronx down and I let myself down, but tonight, that doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter because I’m going to get right back to the top, I’m going to make sure I get that main event spot once again and I’m doing that tonight by beating Mariano Fernandez, the world’s laziest wrestler.”

Ana follows that up with a roll of the eyes.

HAYDEN: ”The man who hangs off my every word. If I did not speak, what would Manny say? Here, I’ll give you a preview.”

Silence. And more silence. Just enough to get her point across.

HAYDEN: ”A waste of time, but to be fair to him, even when Manny does speak? You’re still wasting your time. There was once upon a time where Manny was something, was someone…if you go back and watch him go up against Bronx, you truly started to believe in the underdog story. Sure, he was still a manchild back then, but he was a manchild with a purpose. And through it all…forget any Cinderella story in the South Beach Brawl Cup because no one tops Mariano Fernandez beating Bronx Valescence.”

A genuine nod, almost as if it was a show of respect.

HAYDEN: ”And unfortunately for Manny? Beating Bronx that one time is all Mariano will be remembered for. But the way he’s going and ruining his name, he’ll be lucky if people even remember that. Because it’s far more easier to remember Mariano has nothing, but a joke. I told everyone that he keeps bringing it on himself, everyone can see it, but I have to hammer it in so Manny understands it.”

A smirk forms on Ana’s face for a few seconds before fading away as she starts up again.

HAYDEN: ”Mariano’s biggest opponent tonight isn’t me…it’s himself. He needs to prove to me, to the world, to his credits that he can get over himself. Beating Cashe, beating Bronx, beating whoever, that’s not going to cut it for Mariano. He needs to make a statement. He needs to remind the world what he did and not who he is. This Mariano needs to be as good as dead by the time that bell rings. This Mariano, he can’t hang with me, with Madison, with Bronx…that just can’t be enough anymore.”

She looks optimistic, hopeful for a fight with Mariano.

HAYDEN: ”You need to be better, Manny. You need to do better. And when I put you down, when you’re staring up at those lights…maybe you’ll realize that. Or maybe you’ll keep being the same fucking loser that you have always been, Mariano. The choice is yours, I don’t really care either way because I’m having my hand raised at the end of the night, I’ll be stepping back to where I belong and you…well…I don’t really give a fuck what you do, Manny.”

Again, her smirk returns and she shrugs her shoulders.

HAYDEN: ”Just don’t fuck it up again.”

She winks at the camera before dropping her sunglasses back onto her eyes and heading off as we jump elsewhere.

UNDERCARD
AIDAN CARLISLE VS. CYRUS RIDDLE

POWERS: ”The following contest is set for one fall! Introducing first…”

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.

POWERS: ”And her opponent…”

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 pounds and hails from New York City by way of London, England. He is the ‘Archetype!’, ‘The Impaler!’ CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

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

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

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

“I’m the Messiah, the gnashing of teeth

No one meets death until they see me!

I am the Alphaaaaa! And the Omegaaaaa!”

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

JOHNSON: ”Well, there is no love lost between these two.”

VASSA: ”Ya’ think, Steve?!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s a rivalry that has played out for a long, long time, and it’s never truly had a conclusion. Maybe we’ll get to see that here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Though I wouldn’t count on it.”

DING!!! DING!!!

No sooner does the bell ring than both opponents are out of their corners. They clash in the middle of the ring. Riddle shooting in looking for a collar and elbow but Aidan goes low for a double leg takedown right into a volley of mounted elbows. The audience counts well past ten before the official finally waves Aidan off with a warning. The official barely gets out of the way in time as Riddle comes in for a jumping knee switch that knocks Carlisle back into the corner. Riddle is quick to follow up with a cannonball senton, but can’t get Aidan to the middle of the ring for a pin attempt before she breaks free.

Cyrus sends Carlisle to the ropes and pursues, but Aidan thinks fast and hops up onto the middle rope for a springboard side kick that staggers Riddle. He charges back in and Carlisle counters with a hip toss. Riddle is back on his feet, only to find himself on the receiving end of a spinning roundhouse kick. Cyrus staggers back into the ropes, but doesn’t go down, coming back with a Yakuza kick on the rebound. He catches Carlisle’s wrist before she can fall backward and nails a short-arm clothesline.

JOHNSON: ”Both Riddle and Carlisle look to be on their A game here tonight. They’ve got their heads on a swivel, never letting the other get out of site.”

VASSA: ”And they aren’t holding anything back, either. Just how I like it!”

Riddle throws the headlock on in preparation for a DDT, but Carlisle drives a fist into his ribs several times and breaks free, taking him down with a drop toe hold. Aidan kips back up onto her feet and delivers a stomp right to Riddle’s knee. Before he can recover, she grabs the leg and twists him around into a Boston crab submission. Riddle pounds his fist on the canvas once before straining toward the ropes. His hand comes up short and he tries to break the hold, but Aidan has the leverage well over his center of gravity. Digging into his size advantage, Riddle manages to drag himself forward just enough to get a hand on the ropes. The ref calls for the break, and Aidan holds on for as long as possible before letting go.

Riddle gets to his feet, gingerly testing his leg, as Aidan circles. The pair trades a few feints and lunges, but neither takes the bait. They charge each other simultaneously. Carlisle goes to throw a clothesline, but Cyrus ducks the opposite direction and hits a swinging neckbreaker instead! He starts to go for a Deathlock, but Carlisle scouts what’s coming and gets her hand on the ropes with a quickness. The official backs Riddle up, giving Aidan time to stand, backing up against the ropes. Cyrus charges, nailing a clothesline that takes both of them right over the top rope!

JOHNSON: ”The action has spilled out of the ring! I’m not sure that is quite what Cyrus had in mind…”

VASSA: ”But it might have been what Aidan was thinking. Did it look like she positioned herself that way on purpose to you?”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t say for sure, Vinnie, but I certainly wouldn’t rule it out. Both of these two have been known for being unorthodox.”

VASSA: ”Or suicidal.”

Aidan lands on her feet just past the apron, but Riddle’s momentum carries him into the barricade. When he turns around, it’s right into a handstand headscissors from Aidan! The maneuver launches him right into the steel stairs! Cyrus holds his back as he gets to his feet, but is quick to get his eyes back on his opponent. Aidan presses the advantage, surging in while Riddle is still against the stairs, but Riddle counters with a side effect onto the ring steps!

As soon as Aidan is on her feet Cyrus is there with a European uppercut… and a second! … and a third! With Carlisle off balance he hits a Russian leg sweep to take her to the floor before popping back up. He leaps high into the air for a jumping knee drop… but no one is home! Carlisle rolls out of the way just in time and Riddle drops his knee right onto the unforgiving concrete! Riddle is still holding his leg as Aidan gets to her feet. The look on her face is calm as she grabs the leg away from Riddle and hits a leg DDT right back onto the concrete!

“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”Riddle really favoring that leg after his miscalculated knee drop and the brutal maneuver from Carlisle.”

VASSA: ”Wanna make a bet on who breaks what before the match is over?”

JOHNSON: ”I’ll pass, Vinnie.”

Carlisle paces back and forth, watching Riddle as he writhes in pain, but she gives him all the time in the world to get to his feet. Cyrus lunges, but Aidan ducks under and slaps on a sleeperhold! She cranks down for just a second and then hits a neckbreaker! With the referee still counting away, Aidan quickly rolls into the ring and back out again, breaking the count. The brief interlude gave Riddle just enough time to get to his feet, and he catches Aidan with a spinebuster as soon as her feet hit the floor! Almost before the official can get the count going again, Riddle also rolls in and breaks it before rolling back out again.

Cyrus risks another jumping knee drop, this one connecting with the intended target. Aidan holds her lower back from both the spinebuster and the knee drop, and Riddle hits a second! Carlisle starts to get up, but Riddle grabs the back of her ring gear and throws her into the steel stairs! The familiar intent and focused look is on his face as he drags her up to her feet and into a full nelson hold, once more slamming her back down onto the stairs! The official continues to shout at the pair of them to get back in the ring, once more starting the count out.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”Great ring awareness from both Cyrus and Aidan as well, paying attention to the referee even while intentionally keeping themselves out of the ring.”

VASSA: ”I think they’d rather have a fight than a match, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”We don’t agree often, but I think you might be right.”

VASSA: ”I’ll mark it down on my calendar.”

Both wrestlers ignore the referee’s counting for now. Riddle watches as Aidan struggles to get to her feet. Waiting for just the right time to charge for a running shoulder tackle. But Aidan side steps at the last second and Cyrus gets nothing but steel steps for his effort! The upper and lower halves of the stairs finally separate from the repeated shots, clattering across the floor in opposite directions.

Riddle plants a hand on one, beginning to push himself up. As soon as he does Aidan races in, leaps up, and comes down for a curb stomp right onto the stair! For the briefest of moments she looks like she’s considering trying to get him back in the ring, but she dismisses the idea, knowing he’s too big for her to lift. Though looking a little worse for wear, Riddle still isn’t done for and begins to pull himself up using the ropes. Once he is vertical, Carlisle is there with a diving back elbow off the top of the barricade that knocks him into the ringpost!!!

“Four! … Five! … Six!”

Aidan glances between Riddle and the official. She again gives up on the idea of getting Cyrus into the ring on her own and instead rolls in under the bottom rope where she sits back and watches Riddle on the outside. Cyrus gets to his hands and knees on the floor, checking his nose and forehead with one hand to see if he’s bleeding, but his palm comes away clean.

JOHNSON: ”Two big shots to the head on Cyrus from Aidan, and now she has finally returned to the ring. It looks as though she might be willing to settle for a countout…”

VASSA: ”I highly doubt that, Steve. And look, Riddle’s not laid out just yet.”

“Seven! … Eight! … Nine!”

Cyrus rolls in under the bottom rope before the ten count. For a long while the two just stare at one another across the gap between them. The referee’s instructions for them to get up and keep the match going go ignored as they stare one another down. At last, and at the same time, they both roll right back out of the ring.

The pair collide at ringside, trading lefts and rights at almost blinding speed. Another European uppercut from Riddle is answered with an elbow smash from Aidan. Riddle retaliates with an arm trap headbutt… but Aidan fires back with a headbutt of her own! They stagger back from each other onto the charge again, nailing running dropkicks on one another that leave them both seeing stars. Inside the ring, a very frustrated referee has once again begun the count.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”Come on! Enough is enough now! Get back in the ring!”

VASSA: ”Let them fight, Steve!”

The crowd seems to agree, chanting, “LET THEM FIGHT!” over the referee’s counting.

Carlisle and Riddle all but throw themselves at one another as soon as they are back on their feet, Riddle coming out ahead with a pendulum backbreaker. He stalks Aidan across the floor as she tries to recover, hitting a few stomps to the lower back. He starts to haul Carlisle up, but she swats his hands away, grabs the back of his head, and hits a jawbreaker!

Riddle snaps backward, catching himself on the apron just in time. Aidan lunges in for a clothesline, but Cyrus counters by slamming Aidan face first into the apron instead. He goes to do it a second time, but Carlisle hits a back elbow that spins him halfway around, leaving him open for a lungblower! While Riddle clutches his back in pain, Aidan stalks over the timekeeper’s area and grabs one of the folding chairs, snapping it shut.

JOHNSON: ”Oh no.”

VASSA: ”Oh yes!”

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t a no holds barred match, you can’t do that, Aidan!”

VASSA: ”By all means, Steve, try to stop her!”

“Four! … Five! … Six!”

She turns around just in time to see Riddle charging at her and steps out of the way. Riddle hits the barricade, but managed to curb most of his momentum before impact and doesn’t go flying over. He looks to Aidan, and then to the timekeeper’s area himself. Back and forth, back and forth, until Riddle, too grabs a chair!

JOHNSON: ”Both Aidan and Cyrus have a chair now, but the second they use it the’ll cost themselves the match. Surely they have to know that!”

VASSA: ”Steve, I really don’t think they care…”

Carlisle and Riddle stare one another down once more. The roar of the crowd and the orders of the official fade into the background as the intensity rises between them. In a flash they both move, both swinging… both connecting to the back of the head of the other with their chairs at the same time!!!

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

JOHNSON: ”OH MY GAWD!”

The official calls for the bell as both Carlisle and Riddle go down. There’s the tiniest bit of movement from them, but neither can even manage to get an arm to move, let alone to start getting up. Extra referees head down the ramp from the back to assist as Powers’ voice hits the sound system.

POWERS: ”The result of this contest is a double disqualification!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t believe it! Neither Carlisle nor Riddle has won.”

VASSA: ”And the hate will go on, Steve! FOREVER!”

JOHNSON: ”This is a disaster! Neither of them can even stand right now. Don’t just send the officials, someone get the medical crew out here!”

VASSA: ”I’m sure they’ll be fine. Eventually.”

The scene cuts backstage where we find no one other than the owner of 4CW himself, Perry Wallace. At his side, is a very special woman he’s grown close to over the recent months, who just also happens to be 4CW’s very own Anger Management Therapist, Antonia Patton. Anger comes with this sport, that’s nothing new, but with the recent addition to Octane, some folks just may be a little easier to set off than others. This is real life, unlike social media, you can’t hide behind blocks. Their destination wasn’t known at this time as the two just continued to walk side by side, enjoying each other’s company without any of the heated drama than can pop off anytime within the building of a live 4CW event.

WALLACE: ”So, how do you think she’s taken it so far? You talk to her and see a whole side that I never see.”

PATTON: ”Who may I ask?”

WALLACE: ”Phe and her new role down on Octane. There’s a lot of potential on Octane, the ratings have been growing lately, and the sky’s the limit. I’ve watched what she’s done in other places with a similar role and even though this one may be a little larger, I think it’s a perfect fit for her to be herself and help Octane grow to reach greater heights. Who knows, maybe even see her take the responsibility on solely one day when things on Octane grow to the level of Adrenaline.”

PATTON: ”Which will in return transition into an even larger role if that is bound to happen, hmmmm…”

Dr. Patton stops to think for a moment, reflecting on it all before deciding on how to come about responding.

PATTON: ”I think she’ll be better suited here, I mean sure she might get the occasional headache here and there from becoming irritated but I think teamwork is utilized here a lot more than what I have seen at Spirit and Pride. I always suspected that although yes she has a say in things with sitting on the Board, I just felt they liked to use her when it came down dropping the hammer on the roster. Phoenix joked that she was the aggressor of the Board but I believe it to be more accurate than a joke. It’s never a good thing when you’re stumbling along with being left in the dark, I mean her own best friend leaving the company let me know that Phoenix didn’t have a handle on things as much as she thought. At least here she is in the know every step of the way.”

Listening to everything Antonia had said, Perry slowly nods before the two continue their journey to wherever their destination may be.

WALLACE: ”I’m sure she will do just fine. She was clearly underutilized there. Sure she had some great moments, brought in some big names to the roster, but I can’t help but think that she was limited by the higher ups in reaching her full potential. She won’t have that issue here. AND. Did I mention that her best friend just so happens to be currently employed here in 4CW? Octane is sitting on a very strong roster at the moment and with the right person overseeing things and hyping up the show, there’s no doubt that she can do something great with all the proper tools.”

PATTON: ”She seems to be ecstatic with the job so far, especially since she adores majority of the roster already. I feel as if her techniques would be better used here because Four Corners wrestlers are much more thicker skinned and I think they trust that she is really here to help as well as be appreciative of what she does. I have seen her pour so much money into the other company with equipping them with better lighting and even investing more so that they can have those titantron video things but they seem to still show disrespect to the point they end up fired. I think it’s because it’s a smaller company that those wrestlers believe they can get away with stuff like that because I don’t see them pulling the same thing in these much bigger companies.”

The two walk by a couple with a toddler throwing a fit. As they pass by, Perry’s head turns to continue watching until eventually he looks forward instead of walking blindly.

WALLACE: ”Holy shit, who let Slashley in the building tonight? Speaking of thicker skinned individuals, Phe won’t have to deal with that type of crying from the roster like she did over there. That kid was throwing a fit. Give her a social media account and we’d all be blocked on the first day. Octane hasn’t had one of those since Vossler pissed his pants in the ring and threw a fit. I would LOVE to see someone pull that on her in 4CW. R… I… P…”

PATTON: ”I am glad that she is here, I think the more comfortable environments that she finds herself in especially on a week to week basis is what will make a difference in her behavior. She seems to act out more when she’s frustrated or fed up and she already has a lot on her plate with being an entrepreneur and a mother. I thought her unleashing her anger inside of the ring when she wrestles would help and it has been but ever since her good friend Kaelan left VPW, Phoenix has been pretty paranoid about her surroundings ever since.”

The two come to a stop and Perry takes her by the hand as he turns to face her head on.

WALLACE: ”We’re going to help her get nice and comfortable here. With the recent downfalls that Jimmy has been going through, it’s unfortunate that we had to go our separate ways. It is what it is though. Plus with Phe running things down on Octane, that frees up my plate which in turn means more time with you without all the business side of things interfering.”

PATTON: ”Now she did tell me that you said with her working here, I can just schedule our sessions during work hours when it’s show time.”

Dr. Patton fixates him with a scolding look as she crosses her arms and waits for an explanation.

WALLACE: ”Baby, baby, baby…”

He extends his arms while putting on the best innocent face that he can come up with on the spot. After all this time you’d think it would be perfected and natural but it was obvious that it was forced.

WALLACE: ”I had your best interests at heart with that suggestion. I see how stressed you are at times whenever you come either back to your place, mine, or where ever we’re traveling together. I’m just trying to free up your schedule some, take a little off your plate day to day so you can relax some more. And speaking of relaxing, I have an idea.”

Dropping the act, he takes a step closer after drawing her attention as she watches him closely with growing curiosity.

PATTON: ”And what might that be…??”

A smile stretches across his face as he takes her by the hands before answering.

WALLACE: ”After tonight we have to head up the coast to North Carolina for the football game Friday. I notice how stressed and tired you are most days after coming home, and I’m probably somewhat responsible at times. I won’t take full credit, but I won’t act innocent either. Anyways, I thought that maybe after the game the two of us could head down to Miami a little early and take a little vacation before South Beach Brawl. Just the two of us.”

PATTON: ”Seeing as I have a free weekend, how can I possibly say no to that?”

She smiles warmly at him before leaning in to plant a peck on his cheek.

WALLACE: ”You’re lucky there’s always a camera around these halls. I’d hate to set a bad example for the kids watching at home. I’ll be a good boy for now. So it’s a date. Great news actually because I already booked a suite on the beach and would have been a drag to go down alone. Give us some time away from it all and can even show you the venue and give you an idea of the entire setup. And I’ll try my best not to tease Phe by getting close with her favorite therapist. Hate for her to go into her first official Octane hot headed and before you ask there is no pun to that statement.”

The two continue down the hall, enjoying each other’s company before anything ruins the moment which was always a possibility here on Adrenaline. For the most part it seemed as if the camera had went unnoticed this entire time. At least until Perry turned to it and the camera focused on his lips which silently said “gonna eat all the ass, Phe.” As they walked further and further away the picture slowly fades out and onto the next.

We meet Bronx in the parking lot as he wheels his luggage towards his locker room. The 4CW Championship perched atop. He stares forward through his sunglasses. There isn’t much emotion on his face.

VALESCENCE: “Bronx Valescence, Chris Madison. Two at the top of their game. What more do you need? I don’t need to position myself around folks who may become champion and attack them just so I can be in a feud with them as soon as they win the title… like some people on this roster. I am the guy that even Chris Madison now hopes to knock off. I am ready, he’s ready… and I’ll just say this. I meant what I said on social media. If I lose. I’ll go back down to the bottom, no rematch clause. And I’ll show the haters that I will still put in the work… but… losing isn’t the plan.“

A small grin, and then he disappeared in the back.

UNDERCARD
ANASTASIA HAYDEN VS. MARIANO FERNANDEZ

Problem? Not for Mariano as he was off to a quick start after locking up with Ana and quickly pulling her head down into a side headlock. Ana fought as best she could to free herself but it just wasn’t enough before she found herself on her back after being taken off her feet with a hip toss. Unlike someone else who may immediately go for a pin afterwards, Mariano was smart and knew that a hip toss to open things up just wasn’t going to be enough to put down the former number one contender to the 4CW Championship. Instead, he positioned himself on top of her with an arm still wrapped around her head. His other hand was free, at least for the time being before he found good use for it and began pounding away at Ana’s head with rapid punches. Back on his feet, Mariano wasn’t giving Ana a single inch of room to get herself situated. After two stomps to her midsection, Mariano jumped straight into the air, only to come down with a leg drop right across her throat, pinning her head to the mat as her feet shot straight into the air.

After pulling Ana back to her feet, Mariano backed her across the ring with multiple right hands until eventually her back was against the ropes. Locking onto her wrist, he pushed her against the ropes and then pulled her away before whipping her to the other side. As Ana hit the ropes and began her return, Mariano took off running straight at her before leaping into the air and connecting with a flying forearm than leveled her. As soon as Ana hit the mat, she popped back to her feet. Moving in as quickly as he could, Mariano met her with a knee to the stomach, forcing her to buckle over from the impact. Locking an arm around her head, he then picked her up and over, dropped her on her back with a snap suplex. Standing tall, Mariano didn’t ease up, not for a single second. He stomped onto her midsection a few more times before grabbing ahold of her arm and jerking her to her feet. Pulling her head between his legs, Mariano wrapped her up for what was next to come. Ana had other plans, and being dropped on her head with a piledriver wasn’t in the mix. She powered down and began lifting Mariano off his feet as she stood. Standing straight up, she tossed Mariano over her head and down to the mat behind her. Mariano pushed himself up but before he could stand, Ana whipped around and wrapped her foot around his head with an enzuigiri.

The kick to the head was all Ana needed to take control of the match and do what she does best. It didn’t keep Mariano down for long, but long enough for Ana to get a firm grip on what was happening. Rushing in, she popped her foot up from the mat, planting it into the side of Mariano’s thigh. The sound of the impact echoed throughout the building, reaching a higher noise level than those in attendance watching tonight. Mariano lunged towards her, only to find herself wrapped up and lifted off his feet. Ana flipped him over to his back with a Northern Lights suplex. She even bridged it as the official raced over with the count. One… Tw–KICKOUT! Mariano managed to get a shoulder up before the full two count and Ana quickly rolled over to her stomach before pushing herself back to her feet. Pushing himself up, Mariano was nearly standing upright before Ana connected with a high angled dropkick, knocking Mariano backwards and into the corner. Popping up from the mat, she rushed the corner, closing in with a running European uppercut that sent saliva from Mariano’s mouth flying out into the crowd. With Mariano in a daze, she then put on a clinic of kicks to his head, reminding Mariano how she just so happened to pick up the name ‘Ana Kicks’ for herself. With one final kick to Mariano’s stomach, Ana knocked him completely down to a seated position with his back to the corner. Back stepping to the center of the ring, Ana then charged forward, jumping into the air feet first and hitting Mariano with a dropkick to the face. Back on her feet, she pulled Mariano up to his before lifting him up and backing away from the corner. Slowly turning around, she dropped him across her knee with a side slam backbreaker.

Climbing the nearest corner, Ana was taking things to new heights. At least until her world came crashing down after Mariano was back to his feet, diving to the ropes and throwing his arms over them. She lost her balance and shortly after fell to the outside of the ring, crashing hard against the floor. The official began his ten count but as soon as he reached three, Mariano was also out of the ring, forcing him to restart the count. Pulling Ana up from the floor, Mariano then whipped her back first into the barricade at ringside. Unloading on her with rights from above, Mariano hit her a half dozen times before pulling her back to her feet. With the official’s count now reaching eight, Mariano walked Ana back to the side of the ring before rolling her back in. Before he knew it the official was at nine and in the process of reaching ten. Sliding into the ring at the last possible split second, Mariano dodged a bullet and kept the match alive. On his feet, he backed up to the corner and climbed up backwards to the middle ropes. Leaping from the corner, he came down on Ana’s chest with an elbow drop! Making the cover, Mariano had her shoulders down to the mat as the official raced in with the count. One… Tw–NO! Kicking out, Ana even managed to push Mariano entirely off of her.

Although he came up short, Mariano wasn’t giving up. He was back on his feet in no time and back to attacking Ana with a couple more stomps onto her midsection. Pulling her to her feet, Mariano pulled her head between his legs once again. This time he was determined to drop her on her head with a piledriver and he did, lifted her completely upside down and then dropped her flat on her head. He shot to his feet and turned to the ropes behind him. Coming back on the rebound, he stepped over Ana and then leaped forward, planting both feet to the middle rope. Springboarding off, Mariano flipped backwards through the air before landing across Ana with a springboard moonsault. It was a big move, which in turn drew a big reaction from those watching. Mariano could literally feel the noise level rising after connecting with that. He then hooked her leg and went to end things. Dropping in beside them, the official was on point with the count. One… Two… Another kickout! She was down, but she was far from out. Although she was able to kickout, Mariano wasn’t giving her a single second to catch her breath. He unloaded with rapid right hands to her head before eventually standing to his feet and pulling her up as well.

Mariano threw lefts and rights, not giving Ana a chance to fire back with any of her own. Going for the kill shot, Mariano swung with all of his might for her head. It was a swing and a miss as Ana ducked underneath his arm and stepped in behind him. Quick on his feet, Mariano jumped up and flipped backwards, connecting with a Pele kick to Ana’s forehead and knocking her backwards into the ropes. After a kip-up, Mariano was back on his feet but coming his way was Ana. She was charging in with a lariat but what she received instead was a present from Mariano. A cloud of green mist exited Mariano’s mouth and went straight for Ana’s face. She was quick to react though, throwing her hands up and blocking most of it as she could. Mariano didn’t expect it, and he definitely didn’t expect what happened next as Ana lunged forward, slapping both hands to Mariano’s face and rubbing the green mist into his eyes. With Mariano somewhat blinded by his own mist, Ana took it upon herself to take full control of the matchup. After a quick one-two kick combination to Mariano’s legs, Ana turned to the ropes and as she came back on the rebound, she took Mariano off his feet and flipped him entirely with a running lariat. He was blind, but he wasn’t finished by any means. Pushing himself to his feet, all he could hear other than the crowd were foot steps on the canvas. They grew louder and louder as Ana rushed him before there were no more steps to be heard. She was behind him, climbing the corner and before you knew it, she was standing tall above everything else. Mariano wiped at his eyes and as he slowly turned to face the same corner, Ana went airborne and wiped him out with a diving crossbody. Falling on top of Mariano as he crashed to the mat, she had the position for a pin and the official immediately dropped down beside them. One… Two… Thr– NOT JUST YET!!!

JOHNSON: ”So far we’ve had one hell of a matchup between these two ladies and gentlemen.”

VASSA: ”We even got to witness Mariano trolling himself with his own green mist! What’s in that stuff?!”

JOHNSON: ”I like to think it’s the blood of slayed dragons but what do I know.”

VASSA: ”That doesn’t even make sense, mang.”

What was in that green mist? That’s the million dollar question right there. Whatever it was, it was still in Mariano’s eyes and irritating him more than the rumors that his girlfriend had pegged him a time or two. Ana knew that she almost had him and what it would take to officially seal the deal and put him away for good. She paced the ring, watching Mariano as he slowly began to climb to his feet. As soon as he got to one knee, she rushed in, sliding feet first and connecting with a forearm smash to his face.

VASSA: ”Bet he won’t find a cheat code to prevent himself from feeling that for the next days to come.”

JOHNSON: ”Homan Target Practice and Ana hit the bulls eye with that one.”

Instead of going for the pin, Ana was back on her feet. She paced back and forth by Mariano, yelling at him and then directing her attention to the crowd as she extended her arms out to her sides. She was hungry, she wanted more. She wanted to fight the entire world. She’ll have her chance to on another day, but right now, she has Mariano on her plate which was enough to satisfy her appetite. She then went straight for him, hitting him across the head with a high knee drop. Pulling Mariano to his feet, Ana hit him with back to back rights before locking onto his wrist and whipping him to the corner close by. He stumbled his way to the corner, but managed to remain on his feet. Crashing back first into the corner, Mariano bounced off and fell forward. Before he dropped too low, Ana raced in, leaping feet first into the air and dropping him to the canvas with a running single leg dropkick to the face!

JOHNSON: ”She Was Only Seventeen!”

VASSA: ”Calm down Peckerman, that will land your ass in jail.”

JOHNSON: ”No you idiot, that was the na–“

VASSA: ”She’s going for the pin!”

Dropping to her knees, Ana laid across Mariano for the cover as the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

And just like that, after a hard fought battle with #DaTrollGuy himself, Ana found herself in the winners circle tonight. It was an important match for her to get back on track after coming up short in the South Beach Brawl Cup two weeks ago. She would have preferred to be facing off against Bronx tonight, you know April 11th, but for now this was going to have to suffice. After a short celebration, she headed to the back, leaving Mariano in the ring with the official assisting him with the mysterious green mist still burning his eyes.

WINNER: Anastasia Hayden via Pinfall (16:34)

WEEK TWO 04.13.18
SIN CITY SABRES @ RALEIGH RENEGADES

The scenery of the area shows to be the locker room again. Some doors are opened, some are not and it’s been such a great show at The Phillips Arena. Standing in front of the camera is Andre Holmes who is cloaked under that leather hoodie of his. Tonight represents one of the biggest matches of his career against the 4CW Hall of Famer, Dakota Smith. He’s been wanting this opportunity for so long and with a chance to advance into the finals, nothing can stop this man.

He slowly closes the locker door behind him then turns around to the camera again raising his gloved right hand towards his face. Hazel eyes staring into the camera lens with a glare that demands the entire world to understand just how important this opportunity is too him.

HOLMES: ”So this is what it feels like to be this close to the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup. Andre Holmes in the final four and no one wanted this to happen except for me. I’ve fought too long and too hard to reach this part of the tournament and I refuse to back down now. So all of you who think I’m going to just quit, cave in or crack under the pressure because you don’t see me as the competitor against the likes of Dakota Smith. You’re wrong. I didn’t get here by listening to the critics, I got here through hard work and honest success.”

HOLMES: ”Which is more than what I can say for Dakota but I guess he’s just busy being the sick twisted bastard he is. Dakota. I’ve heard what you said against me, I saw the look in your eyes as you really believed in your overconfidence which you always do but tonight you’re going to suffer. You’re going to learn a very valuable lesson that your pathetic overconfidence evolving into arrogance is going to be the reason you lost to me. I’m not afraid of you nor am I afraid of what you can do.”

HOLMES: ”But tonight is about who wants it more and who wants to become the next 4CW Champion in the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup and Dakota…it’s going to be me!”

He pushes the camera aside and walks out the locker room preparing for the biggest match of his life as the camera fades to black.

HEADLINE
SBBC ROUND THREE
ANDRE HOLMES VS. DAKOTA SMITH

JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to ringside folks for our Headline match of the evening.”

VASSA: ”We have the first of two Round Three matches taking place for the South Beach Brawl Cup.”

JOHNSON: ”Andre Holmes and Dakota Smith will be facing off with only one obstacle between them and the final match at the pay-per-view.”

VASSA: ”And that one obstacle would be the person standing directly across from them tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”This tournament has been full of twists and turns from the very start but Andre and Dakota have both proven to be the best two from their bracket.”

VASSA: ”Now it’s time to decide who is the best one from the bracket.”

JOHNSON: ”It isn’t going to be easy for either man, especially nothing like Andre’s first round match against Johnny Evil. The stakes are high and both men know that the winner will advance to the finals for a shot at the 4CW Championship and a big pile of cash.”

VASSA: ”Whoever wins I’d like to go ahead and call dibs on ten percent of the winnings. Come on guys, I call your matches like no one else and always make you all look good.”

JOHNSON: ”You sure about that? I recall you cracking jokes recently directed towards Dakota and his new family man status.”

VASSA: ”I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would never say anything bad about Dakota. I’m not stupid.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s debatable.”

VASSA: ”Eat my fuck!”

JOHNSON: ”No thank you, I’m good.”

VASSA: ”I didn’t mean literally.”

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.

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

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 first! 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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“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.

POWERS: ”Coming 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!!!”

The music continues to play as the camera remains locked on the curtains at the entrance way. Half a minute passes and still no sign of Dakota.

VASSA: ”A delayed entrance, I like it. Build up the suspense, Dakota.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s not like him to wait like this before coming out. Normally he’s right on queue.”

VASSA: ”Maybe he had to stop by the bathroom on the way to the stage? He could also have his hands knuckle deep in baby shit changing a diaper–OH NO I MEANT BATHROOM BREAK!”

The music continues to play and still no sight of Dakota. Inside of the ring, Andre paces back and forth as the official stares up at the ramp.

JOHNSON: ”Something isn’t right with this. There’s no way it should have taken Dakota this long to make an appearance.”

VASSA: ”That must have been one hell of a bathr–“

JOHNSON: ”What the…”

The crowd grows loud as it begins to stir behind the announcers booth. The camera then transitions to a shot where Dakota is seen, weaving in and out of bodies as he approaches the ring. Hopping over the barricade, he’s unnoticed by the announce team. Walking past the booth, Dakota slaps Vassa in the back of the head, knocking his headset completely off.

VASSA: ”Ahh–“

JOHNSON: ”Here he is folks! Dakota has arrived!”

Sliding into the ring unnoticed, Dakota stands to his feet. He stands there for a moment and looks on as Andre and the official keep their eyes locked on the entrance stage. Sneaking in behind Andre who is standing a few feet behind the official, Dakota drops to his knees and swings upward right between Andre’s legs, giving him an unexpected low blow!

JOHNSON: ”OH MY!!!”

VASSA: ”I’m back folks after some technical difficulties and it appears Dakota has finally made it to the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Thanks for joining us again, Vinny. I already covered this. Now we’re to the point where Dakota has hit Andre with an illegal low blow out of the officials view.”

Andre drops to his knees as his face turns bright red. The official slowly turns around only to be shocked at Dakota standing behind Andre. With both men in the ring and not seeing the illegal low blow, the official then calls for the bell to officially get this match underway.

DING!!! DING!!!

Not wasting anytime, Dakota slams his hand down onto Andre’s shoulder, digging into his flesh with his fingernails. With his other hand, Dakota then begins swinging down and hitting Andre with rapid rights to the side of the head. Dakota then slaps Andre in the back of the head before stepping around him. Now looking Andre face to face, Dakota laughs to himself as he squats down, now eye level with Andre. After a few choice words said, Dakota then snaps his head forward, hitting Andre across the bridge of the nose with a headbutt. The impact of the headbutt knocks Andre backwards to the mat. Standing back up, Dakota then circles Andre before going on the attack with rapid kicks to the ribs. Reaching down and wrapping his hand around Andre’s throat, Dakota then deadlifts him from the mat and hoists him upward into the air before throwing him back down with a chokeslam.

JOHNSON: ”Things aren’t looking too good for Andre after a sneak attack at the hands of Dakota.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know what you’re talking about. That move was perfectly legal and even if it wasn’t, the official didn’t see anything wrong with it.”

JOHNSON: ”THE OFFICIAL DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING AT ALL!”

VASSA: ”Calm down, Steve. Trust the process and trust our dedicated team of officials.”

Standing over Andre with a leg planted on each of his sides, Dakota leans over and begins slapping Andre across the mouth as he lies on his back. Reaching down with both hands this time, Dakota wraps them around Andre’s throat before pulling him up to his feet. He then connects with a European uppercut that whips Andre’s head back, forcing him to look directly up at the lights above. In the blink of an eye, Dakota’s leg pops up from the mat as he kicks Andre in the knee. Andre’s leg gives out from under him as he drops down to one knee. Stepping in, Dakota wraps an arm around Andre’s head before pulling him to his feet and then lifting him up and over, dropping him back to the mat with a snap suplex. As he stands, Dakota hops over Andre and runs to the ropes ahead. Bouncing off, he races in and leaps into the air, coming down on Andre’s chest with a double foot stomp. Instead of stepping off, Dakota steps down onto Andre’s throat, dropping all of his weight onto that single leg as he chokes Andre. The official rushes in, commanding Dakota to ease up which he doesn’t. Instead, the official is forced to begin a five count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–“

At the last possible split second, Dakota steps down from Andre, finally giving him a chance to catch his breath. The official closes in on Dakota, backing him away from Andre as he gives him a warning for the illegal choking.

JOHNSON: ”Now there’s a warning?! Where was the warning after the low blow? This should be grounds for disqualification!”

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ, Steve! Calm down sir, Dakota is just having a little fun. He’s only playing!”

While the official warns Dakota, Andre slowly climbs back to his feet. The official takes notices and just as Andre appears to be ready, the official steps out of Dakota’s way. At least he tried to step out of the way before Dakota rushed by him, bumping him to the side as he went straight for Andre. Dakota lunges forward at Andre, only to get taken by surprise as Andre side steps him and trips him up with a drop toe hold. Dakota falls forward, smacking his face against the canvas with a thud. Pushing himself up, Andre wastes no time and goes straight to work on Dakota. Stomping on the back of Dakota’s shoulder, Andre keeps him downed for nearly half a minute before reaching down and pulling him up to his feet.

With Dakota now standing, Andre hits him under the chin with an elbow uppercut, knocking Dakota backwards into the nearby corner. Andre then charges in full speed, taking Dakota off his feet with a running clothesline. As Dakota’s feet drop back to the mat, Andre then lifts him up and sits him on top of the corner. Climbing up to the middle ropes, Andre hooks an arm around Dakota’s head before grabbing his tights and lifting him off the corner. Falling backwards, Andre drops Dakota to the mat from the top of the corner with a superplex. Rolling backwards, Andre mounts himself on top of Dakota and then lights him up with repeated lefts and rights. Pushing himself up, Andre then lifts Dakota up from the mat before turning him around and locking in a half nelson. Dakota tried his best to escape but just couldn’t get away from Andre’s hold before Andre lifted him off his feet and slammed him to the mat with a half nelson suplex.

The suplex isn’t enough to keep Dakota grounded for long as he slowly forces himself up to his feet. Unfortunately for Dakota, Andre was already standing and waiting for the opportune time to strike. Stepping in, Andre hits Dakota in the chest with a superkick, knocking him backwards to the corner. If it hadn’t been for the corner, Dakota would have stumbled to the mat but lucky for him it was there to keep him from falling. What happened next wasn’t so lucky for Dakota as Andre rushed him, hitting him with a powerful lariat, this time knocking him down to a seated position with his back against the corner. Taking a few steps back, Andre then rushed him again, this time hitting Dakota in the face with a running knee.

JOHNSON: ”Trapped In The Corner!”

VASSA: ”You damn right Dakota is and that’s a nifty little combo from Andre right there.”

Pulling Dakota up from the mat, Andre then lifted him up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Walking to the center of the ring, Andre then dropped Dakota onto his knee with a Death Valley Driver.

VASSA: ”Andre isn’t taking it easy on Dakota.”

JOHNSON: ”Why would he? The winner gets a shot at the 4CW Championship and after dropping Dakota with Holmes On The Range, Andre just might have him in place to do so.”

Climbing over Dakota, Andre went for the pin as the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

JOHNSON: ”Thr–“

VASSA: ”NOT EVEN CLOSE!!!”

With the officials hand within a couple of inches from the mat, Dakota kicked out just before the three count. Had it been anyone else Andre might be surprised but given the fact that it was Dakota, he didn’t let the kickout cross his mind. Instead, he stood back to his feet and went back to work. Kicking Dakota while he was down a few times for good measure, Andre then pulled him to his feet. Positioning himself behind Dakota, Andre wrapped him up around the waist. He went to lift him up for a German suplex but Dakota quickly locked his leg with Andre’s, keeping himself grounded. Throwing his arm back, Dakota hit Andre in the face with an elbow. The elbow to the grill looked to be quite painful, but somehow Andre managed to keep his arms secured around Dakota’s waist. Andre then went to lift him up once more but just like last time, Dakota locked his leg and then fired back with another elbow, this time hitting Andre in the temple. Now this hit was different from the last, enough to force Andre to release Dakota immediately. Spinning around, Dakota was now behind Andre and quickly delivered two back to back forearm shots to the back of Andre’s head. He wrapped Andre up and went to do to him what Andre was originally going to do which is what got them in this position. Just like Dakota, Andre threw his arm back, hitting Dakota in the face with an elbow. He then threw another and another, backing Dakota and himself up as Dakota just would not release him. Knowing the ring very well, Dakota knew exactly where the two were and using the momentum of both going backwards, Dakota lifted Andre off his feet and slammed him into the corner with a German suplex!

JOHNSON: ”And just like that, Dakota has shifted the momentum of this matchup in his favor.”

VASSA: ”All it takes is a small window and just when Andre thought he was saving himself, he only made matters worse by getting them closer to the corner.”

The two remained down on the mat, long enough for the official to begin a ten count. Why a ten count when a winner must be declared? That’s a good question.

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

Back on his feet at five, Dakota ended the ten count. For those still wondering why there was a ten count, good luck with that. Pulling Andre up from the mat, Dakota grabbed him by the shoulders, digging his fingernails into Andre’s flesh before slamming him backwards into the corner. Over and over, Dakota hit Andre across the chest with vicious forearms. He then jerked Andre away from the corner and lifted him up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Back stepping away from the corner, Dakota turned his body which was more than likely a sign that the Dovah Death Drop was coming up next. Slipping out of Dakota’s grip, Andre dropped to his feet as Dakota went down empty handed. Dakota quickly pushed himself up to one knee but before he knew it, Andre was right there to level him with a superkick to the face!

VASSA: ”Holy shit!”

JOHNSON: ”Down goes Dakota with the Thrust Kick!”

Dakota was laid out flat on his back. Dropping to his knees, Andre quickly made the cover as the official dropped in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Somehow, someway, Dakota just kicked out of another near pinfall!”

VASSA: ”This match isn’t over by any means. There’s still some fight left in Dakota. The question is just how much?”

He may have not been shocked when Dakota kicked out earlier, but this time was different. He had Dakota right where he wanted him and somehow Dakota found a way to keep himself in it after popping his shoulder up from the mat just an inch before the three count was made. Andre stood to his feet, pacing the ring for a moment as he went over a game plan in his head. Before Dakota even began to get back up, Andre was right there, grabbing ahold of his and pulling him to one knee. After back to back right hands to the face, Andre then pulled Dakota’s head between his legs. Wrapping both arms around Dakota’s waist, Andre then lifted him off his feet and into the air. In position for a powerbomb, Andre then began to step forward, gaining speed with each step. Above, Dakota began hitting Andre with rapid rights to his unprotected face. After connecting with a thunderous right, Dakota then pushed himself away from Andre before he could throw him down with the running sit-out powerbomb. Grabbing Andre’s head as he fell to the mat, Dakota slammed Andre face first into the canvas with a sit-out facebuster!

JOHNSON: ”Out of nowhere Dakota has shifted the momentum once again!”

Pushing himself up, Dakota stared down at Andre for a moment, licking his lips at the sight of his fallen victim. Pacing the ring, Dakota kept a close eye on Andre, even allowing him to push himself up. As Andre rose to one knee, Dakota rushed in behind him, hitting him in the back of the head with a running knee!

VASSA: ”THE SPECTRUM BABY AND I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT THOSE AUTISTIC TWITTER CRYBABIES!”

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Vinny! Get ahold of yourself!”

Dakota wasn’t finished yet, not by a long shot. He kicked Andre’s lifeless body a few times before lifting him up from the mat. Pulling his head in and wrapping it up, Dakota then hooked Andre’s leg. The entire arena went silent as everything seemed to go in slow motion. Lifting Andre into the air, Dakota transitioned the fisherman suplex into a sit-out spinebuster, slamming Andre to the mat!

VASSA: ”UH-OOHHH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”DEADMAN WONDERLAND!!! DEADMAN WONDERLAND!!!”

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT IT’S THE DEADMAN WONDERLAND AND ANDRE IS OUT COLD!!!”

JOHNSON: ”This might be it!”

Rolling over Andre, Dakota hooked his leg and covered him with his back across Andre’s body. Rushing in from across the ring, the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

JOHNSON: ”One!”

.

.

TWO

VASSA: ”Two!”

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON & VASSA: ”THREE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Dakota wins it! Dakota will be advancing to the finals at South Beach Brawl!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know how he managed to pull this off. There were two times when I thought Andre had this one put away.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s what you get for thinking! We’ve seen this time and time again. Nothing is guaranteed in that ring. Just when someone thinks they have it in the bag, their opponent catches them out of nowhere.”

“Welcome To Hell” hits the speakers as Dakota releases Andre’s leg. He remains down, laying across Andre for a short moment to catch his breath. Pushing himself up, he stands to his feet, looking down to Andre’s body with a grin across his face. The official then steps in beside him, grabbing his arm with caution before hoisting it high into the air.

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

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

Snatching his arm away from the official, Dakota looks down to Andre once more, licking his lips. He then turns his back to Andre, walking over to the nearest corner and climbing to the top. He stares out over the crowd, breathing heavily as he receives mixed reactions from those in attendance.

JOHNSON: ”There you have it folks! We have one locked in for the big match at South Beach Brawl in two weeks.”

VASSA: ”Now we get to watch who will be facing off against him with everything on the line. The 4CW Championship, the cash, and the bragging rights.”

JOHNSON: ”Our main event coming up next will decide who Dakota will be facing. Let me tell you right now. With both Madison and Bronx squaring off for the last spot, Dakota is going to have quite a handful no matter who advances.”

VASSA: ”By now Dakota should be used to having a handful after playing Daddy Daycare for the last few months.”

Right then and there Dakota whipped his head to the side, locking his sights on Vassa. The two locked eyes and all that was heard next was a rather large gulp coming from Vassa. Dakota held his hand up, extending his thumb and then dragging it across his throat, never once looking away from Vassa. He then pointed to Vassa who has now sunken down in his seat, mouthing the words “keep it up, fat boy.” Hopping down from the corner, Dakota then turned his back to the booth and dipped through the ropes.

JOHNSON: ”One of these days you’re going to learn.”

VASSA: ”I’m not looking. Is he coming this way?”

JOHNSON: ”Keep your head down Vinny, this may get rough.”

With his head down, Vassa closed his eyes, expecting Dakota to attack him at any second. It never came though. Dakota left the ringside area and limped back up the ramp, leaving it all behind him before disappearing through the curtain.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There was no answer as a 4CW Cameraman stands at the locker room door backstage. Looking around he checks his watch and then checks the number on the door. He was where he was scheduled to be, where someone had requested him to be. He could hear music softly playing inside the locker room and knew right away it was Mariah Carey. Deciding to give it another go, he begins to knock again. Not even getting in two solid knocks before the music cuts off and a voice finally beckons out from within. A recognizable voice.

CASHE: ”It’s open..”

Entering the room, the cameraman should have expected a room full of the 4CW Jobbers but Freedumb, Gordy, CJ, none of them were anywhere to be found. Instead you see Jason Cashe on the floor with his back to an empty corner of the room. Toilet paper bundled in wads all around him along with a few items and objects that might seem straight to the first sight of them. Yet the only thing that would draw any initial attention is that Jason Cashe had no pants on. He was as naked below the waist as the day he was born. A tad more hair but with detailed eye could see he does do some grooming where it’s needed. He looked tired, drained as if he actually wrestled a match with some purpose involved.

CAMERAMAN: ”Ummm.. Should I come back? I was scheduled to be here but–“

CASHE: ”No, no, please come in.. I have some things I need to say.”

Waving the cameraman in, you can see the guy was nervous. Full of hesitation as he takes a step forward and scrambles to find an excuse to leave. He wasn’t after all paid well in 4CW as goes the bit. Cashe tosses another handful of toilet paper to the side and lifts up his butt just enough to pull up his boxer briefs. His lift left nothing to the imagination but the camera and the man behind it turn away not wanting to have such an eye full.

CASHE: ”Glad you’ve arrived actually! I needed a break anyway.”

CAMERAMAN: ”Yo– You’re not going to rape me are you?”

CASHE: ”What!? Haha! No, the fuck you think this is? Okay it is 4CW, are you new here?”

Nodding, the cameraman was visibly shaking and might as well have had the packing label of ‘Fresh Meat’ slapped across his forehead. You could see it in the picture as he kept the camera rolling.

CASHE: ”Makes sense then but no, no rapes. We do kidnappings plenty, or have. Garden variety of fuck ups and screwed in the heads found on this roster! That is the TRUTH isn’t it? What I’m gonna need you to do though is stand there and just film. Point and shoot. You good? We friends now?”

Again the cameraman nods in a way that the picture the viewers are seeing nods with him. His reactions are very much felt throughout his body because his nerves were high. Other workers not doubt put concern into his head. Cashe was different and to most it was a bad different. It’s never not been that way but as of late it seemed to be a more ‘popular trend’ if you will. The camera scans around at the toilet paper but zooms in on a few of the items lingering about as well. A wrestling magazine, a nappy haired troll doll was hanging off the wall next to him, hung up by string and a tack. There was a Grey colored Care bear with a heart on it’s tummy. Leaned up against the wall was a naked Barbie and Ken doll positioned in doggystyle. Things had apparently gotten WEIRD in here but Cashe wasn’t trying to hide anything.

CASHE: ”I got a little excited!”

His arms highlighting over the area around him as if to show it off to the camera.

CASHE: ”Fuck you. Fuck ALL of you.. You sit somewhere backstage or in the ring and go on and on and on and on about this and that and how you fucking matter somehow but WHERE do you matter and with whom do you matter too? Yet I’m judged because I’ve fallen off some, a lot, however much the meter shows and even that varies depending on who is measuring shit up. You want to draw lines in the sand, be my guest. You came here expecting some long ass spew but see I’m not interested in starting a blog once every Adrenaline. I’ll leave that to those who think their voice is heard. Crooked Kingdom thought to make a statement tonight and heard rumors of some Announcement being made but then found out who was making it and laughed. We don’t go after the faded and never was too bright type of spotlights. This is a circle..”

Realizing the toilet paper laying around him hid the circle he was referring too. Cashe plucks a few pieces up here and there and tosses them out of screen.

CASHE: ”There. See? A circle and I am at it’s center. Now I bring you here today to tell you a story..”

Clearing his throat, he puts a sideways fist to his mouth as he coughs. Sitting up straight he remained on the floor but he was getting a second wind as storytime was about to begin.

CASHE: ”Once upon a time in a far away land! There was this boy named Jason.. This story is about me, such an attention whore am I right? Anyways. Jason was a good lad! He tried to be for a while anyway but the pleasures he found most pleasing were found in ways that most considered criminal or dangerous even. Robbery, Breaking and Entering which if you’ve done that then you know it’s like competing in a State Championship when you’re in High School. Like having sex on Church stairs outside during the sermon. It’s like fucking with an audience! You have this sense of worry but the adrenaline rush, the excitement is just… Wow! So Jason had a group of friends he went to school with. Couple of girls and a handful of close guy friends. Jason and one of the girls had a falling out. Then everyone in the group turned on Jason, he even got a knife pulled on him simply because it was weird for Jason to still hang out after he dumped that said girl. Together while they were all still friends, a few years earlier than this, they had built a tree house. It was their base of operations, their home away from home. Very Sandlot movie like. So after his friends all starting turning their noses at him in the hallways, after school, at the playground or even at the mall. Jason let voices speak, let opinions and the followers who believed stuff without full knowledge of it have at it. Life if you notice goes on regardless.”

Adjusting more as the story gets in deeper. You could question if this story had any truth behind it or was it just randomly put together. As the guy writing it (That’d be me) it’s without much detail, true and just fits the purpose of this. Moving on, Cashe rises to his knees. Still in his boxer briefs, he waves around his hands as he speaks. Getting into the story as the memories flood into his thoughts. Details he hadn’t thought of in years, people’s faces he hadn’t remembered the look of. All coming back to him.

CASHE: ”They popped the tires and smashed out the windows on his Mother’s car. To a kid, barely 14 at the time, that was a big deal. So he waited a few days contemplating what he could do in return. He knew it was them because he was secretly dating another one of the girls from the group. One of his exes best friends and nobody knew about it. So one night he dressed in black to have cover in the night. Grabbed a 2 Gallon Canister of gasoline and proceeded to burn down the Tree House. Tree included. The fire got so big that it burned down far more of the woods that surrounded it than he had wanted too. It was all blackened and burnt the next morning. He knew he could not face a group of people all by himself. So the whispers, the indirect insults that all of them threw came with little to no kick back. Instead he bid his time, took all of it and used it to do something vile. Something impactful that would change their consistent nature and it did. One by one that group became distant with each other, some of them never talked to Jason again and he was never found guilty or even blamed for the fire. As far as anyone was concerned, the candles kept inside the fort caused it and they had burned shit in a pit nearby ALL the time so gasoline wasn’t out of question being on site. Do you see what I’m getting at telling you this here today?”

His eyes squint as he stares into the camera. Maybe someone would say that he wasn’t making any sense because that did happen at times but this should connect to plenty of things.

CASHE: ”Talk. Talk. Talk and talk some more because one day when someone talks the wrong talk? The circle breaks. I have burned circles a plenty and tonight? I gain a pleasure from another not of my own but one that can bring the JOY of seeing another circle crumble. So talk..”

CAMERAMAN: ”Fucking hell..”

CASHE: ”You wanna hear another? I know this HILARIOUS story about a guy who sent a girl flowers and then she fucked another dude on a short bus! Great story!”

The camera pans out as Cashe tells the new 4CW Cameraman another story.

After what happened earlier in the night, here they were again and luckily some brave staffer in the Camera department decided to follow the lead and capture whatever was about to ensue but as everyone was seeing, there was actually nothing. There was the Honda Accord that was Hopkins’s Rental Car inside of what seemed to be an abandoned train yard. There was nothing else in sight but them. Hopkins and his boy Boogie, both exited the vehicle, looking around strangely as there were only a couple of lights to light up the area partly.

HOPKINS: “You sure you entered that address right?”

BOOGIE: “Of course I entered the address correctly. GPS screwed up or something. Had to because aint a damn thing here.”

HOPKINS: “We just got played! I guess I should’ve trusted your mind more”

The lights flickered in the abandoned train yard.

SPEAKER: “You have arrived at the right place Mr. Hopkins. Feel relief…there is no trickery here.”

The two turned around, their eyes captured in wonder to how the hell this guy just appeared from nowhere.

HOPKINS: “Why in the hell are we out here in the middle of nowhere for someone that isn’t even here? You pretty much got your funeral plans in order then!”

BOOGIE: “You should’ve trusted me? You damn right!”

The Speaker rose his arms, showing off what scenery was available to the light source as he walked closer to the two.

SPEAKER: “He is here as I told you Mr. Hopkins. Just in hiding. I figure such secrets as these shouldn’t be inside of a building filled with lurkers. This was plain but out of sight. Look around you…there’s No One here..but you two, myself, and an unsuspecting Viduus.”

The three looked at each other as the focus of Hops and Boogie went to the target, Viduus’s Speaker. As he saw his seconds diminish from the look in their eyes, the Speaker raised his arms up, hoping for a few extra seconds.

SPEAKER: “I gave you footage no? And now you have Viduus where no one else has. On his back, ready to be gutted with this next piece of information.”

BOOGIE: “Well just spit it the hell out then. What part of this trainwreck is he?”

The Speaker flashed a snarl at Boog’ as he took one step towards Hopkins handing him a tablet. The Speaker, noticing the camera, put his arm around Jair and ever so slightly turned his body away from boog and the camera shielding our view. As the video ends, Hopkins hands the tablet back to the Speaker who took off in a full on sprint. Hopkins out of the side of his eye catches a glimpse of a top hat and a long jacket that blows in the wind causing him to turn and react out of instinct and reflex as Viduus was right there, cloaked in his usual attire. Hopkins grew enraged quickly, grabbing Viduus and forcing him to the ground as he wailed on him aggressively. The constant uptick in violence and rage took Hopkins over and he didn’t even look back to seek help from Boogie, who was gone just like that as the cameraman and his focus was squarely on Morta. Hopkins was crazed driving fist after fist into the downed man before deciding to get up and drag the limp body of Viduus over to what was also an abandoned dumpster.

HOPKINS: “You fucked with the wrong one!”

He dragged that carcass across the dirt and rocks, putting the body through even more hell before he was seemingly going to dump him in there. Hopkins took a deep breath and went and picked him up, struggling but managing to get it done. He looked down and smiled.

HOPKINS: “I see you were thinking of making it a lit night, huh? I got it covered!”

Grabbing the tank of gas, he poured it all around it. As he stood back, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his zippo lighter reminiscent of his past with Dakota Smith. Even though he didn’t smoke no more or at least as much as he used to, he still kept one on hand just in case someone else needed a light. Viduus in this case, needed the lighter. Jair flicked it, showing a flame before tossing it a good distance back, as he watched, feeling satisfied.

HOPKINS: “Adios bitch! I just saved myself from competing. Perry gonna be pissed but whatever!”

From distance, Viduus’s Speaker had now stopped running to watch the blaze that had just been started by Jair. A screeching whistle made Hopkins look over and the look on his face matched the word “Shooketh”. Viduus was standing right beside his Speaker as the two were looking to escape.

SPEAKER: “FOOL! You’ve played yourself! Boog burns now as you will soon enough!”

Viduus took off his hat and took a bow like a gentleman. It took Jair a moment to realize as they walked off. He was looking as if about to chase after them but then looked at the dumpster that was engulfed in flames with no source for water. Jair raced over, risking his livelihood to rescue out the body he put in the dumpster. It took more than a few tries but he eventually rescued the body from the flames, beating out the flames with the jacket he had taken off prior to the rescue. Uncovering from out of what was now melted clothing and accessories, his friend Boogie was indeed underneath, as the marks from those fierce punches were right there. Duct Taped for supreme quietness, not even an ounce of noise and Hops could see why, a cloth was under the duct tape, near the nose, that smells like Ether. His arms taped tightly behind his back so that he would not be able to defend any attack.

HOPKINS: “BOOGIE…WAKE UP!!! BOOGIE!!!”

The yelling didn’t work and so he slapped him until he began coughing up hard. Hopkins pulled him away from the intense heat as the two look to recover.

MAIN EVENT
4CW CHAMPIONSHIP
SBBC ROUND THREE

CHRIS MADISON VS. BRONX VALESCENCE ©

The Phillips Arena of Atlanta, Georgia has been sold out from top to bottom, every seat filled with an ass who paid good money to see another main event. The beloved 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence, defends his championship for the third time in a row against another challenger and someone who presents a unique roadblock too. Chris Madison; This match represents everything he’s ever wanted and that’s a chance to become 4CW Champion. The cameras cut over to Johnson and Vassa sat behind the announce table ready to call the action for the last time tonight in Atlanta, Georgia.

JOHNSON: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for the main event of the evening. We have reached the end of the semi-finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup. The 4CW Championship is on the line again for the third time in the row. Defending 4CW Champion, Bronx Valescence, will defend the most prestigious championship in professional wrestling against former 4CW Pride Champion, Chris Madison!”

VASSA: ”This is the testimony of why Bronx Valescence is the greatest fucking 4CW Champion of all time. He’s willing to put his strap on the line every match he’s in and has beaten the likes of Bryan Laughlin and Genevie Carlson on his path to this very moment. And he’s gonna do the same to Chris Madison tonight Johnson ya old fuck!”

JOHNSON: ”And Chris Madison is a former 4CW Pride Champion who has wanted an opportunity for the most prestigious belt in the business. Going through Brody Lee Prince and Anastasia Hayden was extremely impressive and the reward tonight is having the chance to enter the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup as the 4CW Champion. Defeating Bronx and stopping him from that circumstance would cement his name in 4CW history!”

VASSA: ”Yeah but with every championship match, there’s always some fuckin’ drama with it! Bronx called out Chris and insinuated he’s just another MMA guy. He has no business being a professional wrestler especially with the likes of him. In other words for you slow shitholes watching at home, Bronx is telling everyone around the world that Chris doesn’t measure up to his God-given talent of wrestling in the ring!”

JOHNSON: ”But Chris fired back saying anything Bronx can do, he can do better. He’s willing to dig deep and go the extra mile to out wrestle the best wrestler in the world. You have to admire the courage and determination of Chris Madison; He’s willing to play the game of a master and use it to take away the coveted 4CW Championship!”

VASSA: ”Alright, enough fucking talking! I wanna see some fucking action!!!”

The lights in the interior of the Phillips Arena slowly dims then fades into the atmosphere of total darkness. Buzzards of camera lights flash in the audience masking as stars; Suddenly, the large titantron starts to go completely static. Almost as if the screen is having a malfunction until a black hand braces against the screen and the audience burst into a loud cheer seeing these events unfold before. The static noise increases in volume, the hand slowly disappear back into the rigorous random static on the titantron.

“MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON!”

The hand pulsates along with the static in tempo with the drums sounding off. “War Machine” by KISS interrupts the introductory sequence and a bright spotlight shines center stage. A man is cloaked and bowed under a black towel in the silhouette before the camera zooms in on the white t-shirt labelled “Always Ready for War” across the chest area. Slowly bobbing his head to the beat of his entrance music, he throws the towel off of his head then tosses it to the fans at ringside cuing the entire arena to be lit up again.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Oh yes! Chris Madison is here and with a purpose: To become the new 4CW Champion here in Atlanta, Georgia in front of thousands. He takes a moment to gather this experience in; Closing his eyes and hearing the thunderous positive reactions from the loyal 4CW fan base. Madison walks down the entrance path eyeing the ring like a gateway into the heavens. He’s more than confident, fired up and lethally determined to beat the best wrestler in the world and become the new 4CW Champion!

“MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON!”

Wearing a pair of black and red fight shorts, black wrestling boots, and black fight gloves for his battle attire, he stops before the nothern section of the apron. The camera closes in on that focused glare, the facial expression of a warrior wanting to win the championship of the gods. Chris diverts to the steel steps then places his left foot down on the bottom step before staring behind at his fans singing along to the lyrics of his entrance music then climbs up to the apron edge.

JOHNSON: ”The former 4CW Pride Champion is here ladies and gentlemen! Chris Madison is here in The Phillips Arena and he’s more than prepared for what could be the biggest match of his career. Nothing is going to stop this man from fulfilling his dream of becoming the 4CW Champion and leading this company into the future. It’s only a matter of time before the world sees his agenda, his goal, his dream come true. Will it be tonight? Can he be the one to dethrone Bronx Valescence in the most coveted tournament in 4CW history?!”

Chris Madison shoots through the ropes and walks over to the ropes in front of the ringside fans. With his body in between the middle and top rope, he raises his right gloved fist to his face with that evil confident smirk from ear to ear. A punch into the jaw symbolically sending a message to the world that no matter what Bronx can dish out, the punishment won’t be enough. Madison extends his arms out with his hands open unleashing a battle cry; Fired up for this opportunity and ready to bring it all to hell!

VASSA: ”Everyone who goes against Bronx Valescence has been labelled as “The One”; The challenger can dethrone him and we’ve seen Bronx move past them all. For fucking once, I’m not having any doubts crawl up my ass. I fucking think Chris Madison has all the tools, all the necessary skills and the mindset to beat the shit out of Bronx and become the new 4CW Champion tonight!”

Once his entrance music fades away, the abundance of cheers take over the silent atmosphere. Standing in the center of the ring is Chris Madison with his gloved hands balled into fists, his eyes latched to the entrance of the stage and his head bowed. There is nothing in his way except for the man named Bronx Valescence and the opportunity to walk into the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup with the 4CW Championship around his waist. While he’s waiting, the audience shifts to a different perspective and calls for the 4CW Champion to come out.

“BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX!”

VASSA: ”If there’s one thing about World Title matches, the calm before the storm gives a chill down our fucking spines!”

The introductory music of “Stranger Things” begin to play and smoke engulfs the stage as well as the lights slowly dimming. An outburst of ear shattering cheers could almost blow the roof off the Phillips Arena. Atlanta knows all too well about the 4CW Champion and come to a bigger cheer just as the remix of The Weeknd’s, “Starboy”, music is broadcast from the P.A system. Standing center stage with the smoke covering his feet is none other than the 4CW Champion himself, Bronx Valescence.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX!”

With the 4CW Championship strapped around his waist behind that leather black jacket of his, Bronx turns sideways before pointing the finger gun towards the ring and more directly to Chris in the center of the ring. ‘Bang’! as he mimics the gun going off and heads down the entrance path. The sunglasses on, the lights returning back to normal and Bronx staring right in the eyes of Chris who can’t let his glare be distracted from the 4CW Championship belt. Dressed in Black tights, black boots, black knee pads with white wrist tape; Valescence stops before the apron edge tapping the belt while muttering some trash talk under his breath at Chris.

“LETS GO BRONX! LETS GO BRONX! LETS GO BRONX! LETS GO BRONX!”

Bronx walks over to the apron facing the ringside fans and hops it onto it using his right knee for his base. He spins around with his back leaned against the ropes staring towards his beloved fan base; Valescence climbs onto the middle and top turnbuckles outside the ropes staring down at Chris who backs up in his designated corner allowing the champion some space. Hopping over the ropes, he’s in the corner then walks to the center of the ring removing the belt from around his waist.

VASSA: ”The current two-time 4CW Champion. Bronx Fucking Valescence! He’s defeated the absolute best in the company and perhaps all around the world. I don’t see who can beat him but Chris Madison tonight. Bronx Valescence is the 4CW Champion for a fucking reason. Nobody can match up to his level of wrestling he brings to the ring.”

Bronx, staring down Chris in his corner, raises up the finger gun again before letting it ‘bang’. He holds the 4CW Championship belt up to his face and has that smug smirk combat the facial expression of a serious, determined and violent Madison. With both men in their corners, the music fades away and the audience is heard chanting both names as the two continue to stare each other down. Neither man breaks eye contact and the world distraction of an excited audience can’t even get close to breaking their focus on each other.

JOHNSON: ”He is the most talented athlete who has traveled the world and defeated the very best 4CW has to offer. Accomplishing more than anyone in their days wish they could; Bronx Valescence is the defining reason for being the future of 4CW and leading this era. However, the challenge to his leadership is seconds away. Lets give it over to Powers for the match introductions!”

Bronx’s music fades to silence and the arena darkens again as three spotlights focuses on Bronx, Chris, the referee and Powers combined who steps up in the middle of the ring. Microphone under his chin, he raises it his lips once production gives him the cue to start the match introductions.

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is our Main Event of the evening! It is the semi-final of the South Beach Brawl Cup scheduled for one fall…”

“OOOOOOOOOONNNNNNEEEEEEEFFFFFFFAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!!!”

POWERS: ”…and it is for the 4CW Championship!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

POWERS: ”Introducing first! The challenger! Hailing from Long Island, New York! At six feet tall, weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds. He is CHRIS ‘MAYHEM’ MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

Chris Madison steps a little forward out of his corner and raises his gloved fist up to his jaw again. He stares down Bronx across the ring before stretching both his arms out; A few steps back into his corner and Powers continues his introduction again.

POWERS: ”Introducing his opponent! Hailing from Portland, Oregon! At six feet, two inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds. He is the reigning, defending, undisputed 4CW Champion! Bronx Valescence!”

Bronx walks out with a few steps and outstretches his arms and spins into the center of the ring posing for the fans at ringside. He then raises the 4CW Championship again then hands the belt over to the referee. With Powers outside the ring, the lights back to normal and the referee presenting the belt to the cameras, it’s safe to say this match is about to start.

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison! Bronx Valescence! 4CW Championship on the line! HERE WE GO!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The match begins with the two competitors locking each other down in their respectful intense glares. They finally break out of their corners and circle the ring; Both men with a purpose and that’s to win the 4CW Championship. Finally getting into the center, they take a moment to feel each other out but eventually get into the traditional collar and elbow tie up. Neither man is moving, sure a little few steps back and forth; They break off the hold from each other and circle the ring again.

“LETS GO BRONX! LETS GO MADISON! LETS GO BRONX! LETS GO MADISON!”

JOHNSON: ”The opening moment of the match are the most intense! So much suspense and so much detail into trying to get the upper hand of the match momentum!”

Bronx and Chris re-grapple each other in the middle of the ring and Bronx instantly transitions into a Side Headlock. Before Madison can even react, he sweeps the right leg then both men fall on the mat in the Side Headlock position again. The referee checks down on the submission attempt but Chris shrugs him off then uses his strength to muster both men back up to their feet. He continues the submission and the challenger backs up into the ropes and reflects to try and push him off but Bronx stops them in the middle and keeps the submission in play.

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison has been struggling to get ahead of the situation. Bronx has been a master of his own craft but Madison has challenged himself to out wrestle the best in the world. ”

Chris struggles in the tight hold around his head but at least manages to slip out behind with the right arm in his grasp for the Hammerlock submission. He cranks upward on the right arm until Bronx spins around behind him applying the Hammerlock submission as well. Chris slaps a Back Elbow strike to nullify the hold on him then attempts to hit the ropes; Wrong! The champion latches his arms around his waist and rolls him backwards over him to the mat with a Schoolboy Roll Up!

ONE

.

.

Just as Madison shoots his body out of the pin, he stands on his knees and sees the champion going for an early Superkick. Chris tries to cover himself up and the champions stops mid-way playing mind games. When the challenger drops his arms from his face, he sees Bronx doing the finger gun again before letting out the ‘BANG’! He steps a few paces back with that smug smirk on his face and bows before Chris who gets up and demands him to circle the ring again.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX!”

VASSA: ”And that’s what you do to get the early advantage in the psychological game. Chris Madison may be seen as emotional from Bronx’s words and he needs to keep his mind in fucking check!”

Both men circle the ring for the last time and lock up. This moment, Chris applies Bronx in the Side Headlock before transitioning over to the Wrist Lock. Bronx quickly reacts by rolling forward onto his feet, rolling backwards and kipping back up to his feet trying to take the right arm in his grasp. Suddenly, Madison takes him back into the Side Headlock before flipping him down onto the mat from a traditional Judo Throw. Just when the champion can stand up again, Chris goes for a Roundhouse Kick but Bronx rolls over to the nearest corner dodging it. The challenger steps forward to hold up two fingers indicating how close that was.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Karma is a bitch! Anything Bronx can do, Chris can do better and he’s returning the favor to Bronx.”

No circling the ring; The two lock up for the final time and Bronx reapplies the Side Headlock. Chris uses his heavier weight to make both men fall into the ropes and pushes the champion into the opposing ones. Valescence comes back and gets knocked to the floor from a Shoulder Barge; His opponent runs to the ropes to the left, rebounds and hops over Bronx rolled over on his chest. Both men on their feet, Chris returns to duck under a leapfrog then makes another spring off the ropes to eat a Dropkick from Bronx!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Dropkick from Bronx takes him out!”

Chris crashes onto the mat but gets up after the momentum kicks in. A few strong Forearm Shots from Bronx forces him into the nearest corner. The champion takes his arm and tosses him into the opposing corner allowing Madison’s back to become glued to the turnbuckles. Valescence charges in for a Running Dropkick but gets kicked away by two boots from Madison to put him in the center of the ring. Chris explodes out of the corner but gets stopped in his tracks by a Spinning Back Fist then taken down to his back with a Snap Suplex!

“BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx Valescence with a Spinning Back Fist then a Snap Suplex! He’s an all round competitor with a knack for creative sequences. Here is another pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

Chris kicks out of the pin attempt and Bronx helps him back up to his feet. A powerful European Uppercut nearly knocks the challenger down leaving enough time for Bronx to go into the ropes. Off the rebound, he ducks under a thrown clothesline, repeats the process and returns to Chris who takes him off the mat with an Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex! Bronx hits the mat pretty hard but he manages to get back on his feet until turning around into the arms of the challenger who takes him down again a Belly-to-Belly Slam!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”And now its Chris Madison setting the pace of the match! A Belly-to-Belly Suplex followed by a Belly-to-Belly Slam! Here’s the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

The champion kicks out from the pin attempt and Chris drags him up to his feet. A couple of Low Kicks to the thighs of Bronx stings a lot but the Spinning Back Kick to the ribs keeps him bent over. Madison uses the ropes as an added spring to his velocity and clocks the champion in the head with a Flying Knee Strike to the temple! Both men are down on the mat but Bronx rolls down under the bottom rope to the apron edge as Chris slowly gets back up to his feet then follows him out.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”Motherfucker! Chris using his striking and being the hard hitting Mixed Martial Artist, those kicks sting! Not to mention, the shit killing Flying Knee Strike to the temple and now both men are on the apron edge!”

Chris slowly helps Bronx to his feet then clocks him in the head with a strong Elbow Strike. A couple more Elbow Strikes demand the champion to hold onto the top rope to keep his balance and entangle him into a potential Suplex Position. Valescence slips out of the hold and strikes his chin out of nowhere with a Superkick! The fans at ringside turn away after hearing the clap of the blow almost makes them jump in fear. Chris falls back into the turnbuckles leaving enough room for Bronx to run over to him but Chris explodes and catches him in the STO position until leaping into a Moonsault with him in his grasp for a Spanish Fly to ringside!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

JOHNSON: ”Holy Cow! Holy Cow! The Spanish Fly from the apron all the way down to the ringside mat and Bronx’s back must be in complete pain! We’ve never seen Chris do that before in a match. He really kept to his word!”

“One! … Two!”

The referee starts the count and Chris slowly gets off the mat. He senses something and he hears a man screaming out his name, cheering name and clapping out loud. He turns around and sees nothing until walking over to Bronx who is using the edge of the barricade to stand up.

“Three! … Four!”

Another Elbow Strike into the head keeps him stable until he whips Bronx into the apron edge where he suddenly hops up, leaps back and catches him in the head with a Leg Lariat taking him down again! Bronx rolls him into the ring and stands up on the apron edge waiting for Chris to stand up; The camera looks over to see Jason Cashe quickly slipping away from the camera vision at the last second!

VASSA: ”What the fuck?! Was that Jason Cashe? I don’t know but right now, Bronx has turned the tides in his favor again. A Leg Lariat has managed to take him down and he’s looking to fly!”

Just as Chris stands up, Bronx leaps onto the top rope then springboards across the air grasping Madison’s neck before both men hit the mat. A Springboard Blockbuster catches the challenger off guard and Bronx floats over onto his chest to hook the leg for the quick pin attempt!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Jesus! The Springboard Blockbuster and can’t even give Chris a break with the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

He kicks out and the champion gets up to continue the pain with a Snap Leg Drop. Bronx gets up again with Bronx in his grasp then claps his chin with another European Uppercut! The challenger wobbles side to side before Bronx runs behind to the ropes, rebounds and ducks under a thrown arm to sneak behind him with a German Suplex landing him down on the back of his head. Chris bounces off the canvas and rolls back to his knees only to see Bronx running into him to complete another European Uppercut nearly taking his lights out completely!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”German Suplex and the European Uppercut! Holy shit! Bronx will bring out all the stops to ensure his championship title reign stays intact! Another pin attempt by the champion!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

Chris kicks out again and Bronx is getting tired of his opponent. He slowly gets up and helps Chris who breaks the hold off of him again; Three Elbow Strikes, Two Leg Kicks catches the champion off guard from the striking combination but when he goes for a quick Bicycle Knee Strike to the Head; Bronx stops him with a Superkick knocking him back to the ropes. Chris holds on and Valescence charges towards him until getting lifted over the top rope to the apron where he lands on his feet. Chris spins around for the two Rolling Elbow but gets kicked with a Gamengiri backing him up. Bronx shoots through the ropes for a Slingshot Spear but Chris leaps up for the Codebreaker point-blank range!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Codebreaker!!! The fucking Codebreaker countering the Slingshot Spear and oh my god! He’s transitioned into The Triangle Choke!”

Damn right. Bronx’s head gets locked in between his legs with the right arm caught in the grasp. Chris pulls down on the head. Gritting his teeth, screaming at the top of his lungs, the referee is checking on the submission and it is pretty tight. Bronx is telling the referee not to call the match but the air is leaving is lungs as seconds goes by. His instincts kicks in and tells him to lift his body up to stack Chris on his shoulders for the pin attempt!

ONE

.

.

TWO

Chris doesn’t kick out but instead transitions into the Armbar! Bronx sits on his knees, holds his hands together defending the submission being fully utilized. Chris continues to try and separate the hands but Bronx shakes his head. He overpowers him and starts to dead lift him up into a Powerbomb position before slamming him down on the canvas spine first! Both men break off of the hold and lie down on the canvas using a moment to recover their strengths.

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

VASSA: ”Now this is a FUCKING 4CW Championship match! Both men are giving it everything they’ve got but neither can let up. This is a battle!”

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four!”

The referee is counting out each competitor to see if they’re unable to continue. Bronx and Chris are at opposite ends of the ring using the ropes to try and get up. Their knees are wobbly, bodies fatigued and both men are struggling to even continue.

“Five! … Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

They somehow fight through the impossible pain and meet each other in the center of the ring. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, they start trading blows back and forth. Elbow Strikes, European Uppercuts and another other strikes known to mankind. It takes a pause in the sequence when Bronx blocks a shot and runs to the ropes behind him with Madison to cut him off at the rebound with a Running Yakuza Kick! Madison runs to the ropes behind him then Bronx cuts him off with a Mule Kick that leaves him stunned enough to pull him back into the center and create the Blue Thunder Bomb!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

JOHNSON: ”Wow! The two men fought it all out with Elbows, Uppercuts, Yakuza Kicks, Mule Kicks and Bronx has pulled him back with a Blue Thunder Bomb! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

He kicks out of the pin attempt and Chris needs a moment so he goes into the nearest corner using the turnbuckles to stand him up. He turns around and a Shotgun Dropkick ricochets his entire head back forcing him to fall through the ropes to the ringside mat. Bronx hops up and down in the center building momentum then doing the finger gun again. ‘BANG!’ He takes off to the ropes behind him for increased acceleration before a Tope Con Hilo! Crashing spine first against Chris creating a chaotic scene of bodies near the apron!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

VASSA: ”Tope Con Hilo! Holy shit! Bronx is fucking out of control and he’s on a roll now!”

The momentum on his side forces him to get up and roll Chris into the ring. Both men are back inside and Bronx gets back up on his feet. He helps Chris to his feet and turns him around with a Spinning Back Fist before hugging him from behind. Running him chest first into the turnbuckles, he rolls backwards with him before dead-lifting him over into the German Suplex for the pin attempt!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

VASSA: ”CHAOS THEORY! THE SIGNATURE CHAOS THEORY AND IT IS KNOWN AS “FOR ANA”! HOLY SHIT! BRONX IS GONNA RETAIN!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TW–

Madison shoots his entire body and Bronx sits up holding onto the strands of his hair. He can’t believe what happened but knows he has to end it. He rolls over to a corner, squats down and measures Chris who crawls near towards the center. The moment he even gets on his right knee, the champion bursts out of the corner in a war charge until Madison gets up and lifts him up before twisting into the Sit-Out Spinebuster! Both men are down on the mat but Chris goes for the pin attempt!

JOHNSON: ”Sit-Out Spinebuster! Here is the pin attempt!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

Bronx kicks out again and Chris sits up looking to the top rope. He rolls under the bottom rope then makes his way up to the top turnbuckle staring down to Bronx on his back. One great leap for the Double Foot Stomp but Bronx rolls out of the way letting Madison land on his feet. The champion stands back up and tries to go for a clothesline but the challenger ducks under it taking the thrown for the Half-Nelson Suplex! Bronx stands on his knees only to see Chris bouncing off the ropes then running into him for the Bicycle Knee Strike!

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON! MADISON!”

VASSA: ”BICYCLE KNEE STRIKE BUT MADISON ISN’T DONE!!!”

He slaps his hands on the canvas and quickly drags Bronx up to his feet from behind. Taking the right arm from behind, he spins him around and knocks him clean with the Rolling Elbow to the back of his head! Bronx falls down on his knees before timbering over onto his back; Chris drops down on his chest hooking the leg for the pin attempt!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–NO!

The entire fucking audience cannot believe Bronx survived that after the Rolling Elbow clocked him on the chin. Chris sits up screaming to the world and just pounding himself in the face.

“MATCH OF THE YEAR! MATCH OF THE YEAR! MATCH OF THE YEAR!”

VASSA: ”YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT! THIS IS THE FUCKING MATCH OF THE YEAR! HOLY SHIT! THIS IS FUCKING INCREDIBLE! CHRIS MADISON AND BRONX VALESCENCE ARE GIVING IT ALL AND NEITHER MAN WANTS TO LOSE THIS MATCH!”

Struggling to even stand, he reaches down and grasps a handful of Bronx’s hair to pull him up. He yells at Bronx to give it up until Bronx breaks the hold off of him and does an impromptu Superkick forcing him to step back. Chris jumps into him then eats another Superkick again where Bronx attempts the Spinning Wheel Kick until he caught into Madison’s arms for the Swinging Belly-to-Back Suplex! Bronx rolls over onto his knees then eats a Tornado Kick into his temple only to get deadlifted off the mat into the Brainbuster!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

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

JOHNSON: ”BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAH! BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAH! BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–NO!

Chris crawls all the way to the ropes in complete awe that Bronx is still alive. Valescence rolls out of the ring and collapses all the way down to the ringside mat. The referee moves his body in between the ropes seeing Bronx stand on his feet although he collapses a few times; Chris stands on his feet, screams then runs to the referee leaping over him and the ropes in a High Jump Moonsault to the outside collapsing his entire weight down on Valescence!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

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

JOHNSON: ”THE SIGNATURE HIGH JUMP MOONSAULT! HOLY GOD! HE JUMPED OVER THE REFEREE AND THE ROPES! CHRIS MADISON HAS THIS MATCH ON LOCK!”

Chris slowly rolls Bronx into the ring and gets in himself. He hoists Bronx in the Electric Chair until Bronx slips behind him then lands him down on the canvas with a German Suplex. Chris rolls back to his feet then charges into him only to eat a Fisherman Buster collapsing him on the back of his head! Unfortunately for him, Bronx rolls backwards into the Suplex position but then commits to a Small Package Driver!

JOHNSON: ”THE FISHERMAN BUSTER INTO THE SMALL PACKAGE DRIVER! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–NO!

VASSA: ”HE KICKED OUT! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK IS GOING ON?!?!?!!?”

Bronx slaps his hands on the mat, pounds his fists then buries his face into it. He stands on his knees before dragging Chris all the way to the corner before putting him to sit on the top rope. Climbing up on the middle turnbuckle, he tries for the Superplex but Chris uses the last of his energy to shove him off. Bronx lands on his feet and another Superkick clasps him in the chin. He climbs up and the Superplex comes crashing down but Bronx rolls over him and goes for another Suplex until dropping on his back with Chris on him for the Cross-Face Chicken Wing Submission!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX! BRONX!”

VASSA: ”THE CROSS-FACE CHICKEN WING SUBMISSION HOLD IS APPLIED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING! “FOR TERRY” AND SHE WOULD BE FUCKING PROUD! THIS IS FOR THE 4CW CHAMPIONSHIP! WILL CHRIS MADISON TAP OUT?!”

Bronx is swaying back and forth, torquing down on the submission and Chris is trying his best to fight against it. The referee checks in on him stretching his hand out to the bottom rope. Using the last of his strength, he starts dragging the champion closer and closer to the ropes. Bronx is yelling for Madison to tap out and Chris is fingertips away from the bottom rope. His arm starts to fall down, eyes start to close, breathing gets slower, he’s desperately giving in to calling it until…until…until…the rope break is made as he grabs the bottom rope in the nick of time!

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

VASSA: ”OH MY FUCKING GOD! I THOUGHT HE WAS OUT OR GONNA TAP OUT! CHRIS MADISON HAS NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF AND BRONX VALESCENCE IS BRINGING IT ALL! HE’S GOING TO END IT AND I THINK HE’S LOOKING FOR “TRUE LIGHT’S FLIGHT”. THIS MOVE IS THE END OF ALL MOVES!!!”

Chris rolls over into the center of the ring on his back and Bronx stands on his knees with his face leaned into the middle turnbuckle. He knows what to do and puts on his shades before struggling to even make it to the top rope. With his back turned to Madison who may be out completely, he stands up with his arms outstretched before leaping backwards producing the Corkscrew Moonsault from above! NO! Madison bolts up at the last minute and catches Bronx across his shoulders before running to the corner for a Death Valley Driver into the turnbuckles!

JOHNSON: ”NOOOOOOOOOOOO! CHRIS MADISON HAS DENIED BRONX VALESCENCE AND CAUGHT HIM FOR THE CORNER DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!!!”

Bronx stands on his head for a little bit until dropping back on his knees. Chris rushes over having the tights in his grasp, pulls Bronx back into him, lifts him into the Electric Chair then drops him forward before catching him into the Bridging German Suplex! The entire audience explodes and the referee slides down for the pin attempt!

JOHNSON: ”END GAME! END GAME! END GAME!!!”

VASSA: ”HOLY FUCK! THE FINISHING MOVE OF CHRIS MADISON! HERE IS THE PIN ATTEMPT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

JOHNSON: ”WE HAVE A NEW 4CW CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“War Machine” by KISS replays around the arena and Chris Madison sits up covering his face with his hands. He cannot believe it as he watches the entire audience get off their asses and applaud the man for his victory celebration. He stands on his feet barely and looks at the referee hand him the 4CW Championship belt before taking his arm and raising it in the center of the ring!

POWER: ”HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND THE NEW 4CW CHAMPION… CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

Chris Madison falls into the ropes needing them for balance support. He just stares down at the championship belt in his grasp before raising it high in the air. Bronx slowly sits up at the help of the referee watching in disappointment at Chris obtaining the championship belt. This is such an amazing moment for Chris who falls down on his knees holding the belt up to his face and holding it close to his chest.

JOHNSON: ”CHRIS MADISON HAS DONE IT! HE HAS FOUGHT THROUGH HELL AND BACK WITH BRONX VALESCENCE AND HAS BEATEN HIM IN THE RING TO BECOME THE NEW 4CW CHAMPION!”

Chris Madison turns around watching Bronx get on his feet and put his hands on his thighs looking a little disappointed. The entrance music stops as the two stare each other down sweaty, exhausted and in pain. Madison and Bronx just have a stare off until Bronx puts his hand out for a shake and Madison happily obliges. The two pat go in for a quick hug, pat each other on the back and Bronx leaves the ring being the real wrestler he is letting Chris have his moment as his entrance music plays again with him on the middle turnbuckle raising the belt high!

“YOU DESERVE IT! YOU DESERVE IT” YOU DESERVE IT! YOU DESERVE IT!

Chris places the belt over his right shoulder and slowly looks at the fans at ringside applauding him until seeing a familiar face. Jason Cashe who is also behind the barricade is slow clapping at Chris with a smirk on his face before playing Peek-A-Boo with his hands. Chris just stares at him with an arched eyebrow but then raises the belt in the air.

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT! THAT WAS ONE OF THE BEST MATCHES I’VE EVER SEEN AND CHRIS MADISON HAS DONE IT! HE’S GOING TO WALK INTO THE FINALS OF THE SOUTH BEACH BRAWL CUP AS THE NEW 4CW CHAMPION! BRONX SHOULDN’T FEEL ANY FUCKING WAY; HE’S BEEN A GREAT TWO-TIME CHAMPION AND HE’LL BE BACK BETTER THAN EVER!”

JOHNSON: ”Unfortunately we won’t be seeing Bronx defend the championship all the way through the tournament, but he had one hell of a run nonetheless.”

VASSA: ”It’s been a wild roller coaster ride witnessing his reign first hand. He’s done something no other has done in 4CW with the top championship in the business.”

JOHNSON: ”Now it’s Madison’s turn. We’ve seen what he can do with 4CW gold around his waist. Now he has THE belt and I for one can’t wait to see what he does.”

VASSA: ”He already has his first defense scheduled in two weeks at South Beach Brawl against a former 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith. These two have quite the history.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s going to be one HELL OF A MATCH! We only have two more week before we watch it first hand and witness who wins this years South Beach Brawl Cup.”

VASSA: ”That’s a lot of money at stake with this upcoming match. I still want my ten percent! Listen up Dakota and Madison. I want my cut!”

JOHNSON: ”Here we go again. While you argue about a cut that you’re never going to see, I think it’s safe for us to call it a night. Folks, be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head down to Miami for South Beach Brawl and declare an official winner to this years South Beach Brawl Cup. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight and goodnight! Now onto my cut…”

As Vassa continues pleading his case as to why he deserves a cut of the winners pot, the camera focuses on Madison soaking it up in the center of the ring. With the 4CW Championship held with pride, he slowly paces the ring as the fans continue to cheer loudly. Slowly, the picture begins to fade out and eventually the credits begin to roll.