ADRENALINE E87 (153)

PRE-SHOW
NO HOLDS BARRED
TERRY FLARE VS. VICTOR STRANGLEPOLI

Making his 4CW debut, Doctor Vice couldn’t ask for a better matchup than the no holds barred one he was given here tonight. However, he probably would have wanted a more formidable opponent than the one he was given. Then again, what better way to make a splash in 4CW than nearly killing a man in your debut. With no rules whatsoever, Stranglepoli held nothing back. He even came down to the ring with a guitar in hand, playing it as if it were a guitar and although no sounds were coming from his strumming, you can bet your sweet little ass it sounded better than anything Griffin Hawkins ever played. Confusing Flare from the very beginning, Stranglepoli handed him the chair that he brought to the ring. Holding it in confusion, Flare left himself open to getting an even closer look at it as Stranglepoli kicked it directly in his face! It was all downhill from there. If you caught Stranglepoli’s recent promotional video, you would think that Flare was the lady and the chair in Victor’s hand was the donkey as Victor little fucked his face with it over and over again until giving him a money shot to the face with his own blood. Does that even make sense? Probably not but we’re going with it. The match didn’t last long though, Flare could only take so many shots to the head with a steel chair before falling unconscious to the mat. After placing Flare up onto the top of the corner, Stranglepoli then slammed him down to the canvas with a superplex, before locking in an anaconda vice. Flare was still unconscious and after having his arm lifted into the air three times only for it to fall each and every time, this match was over before the majority of fans even made it to their seats.

WINNER: Victor Stranglepoli via TKO (3:35)

Our picture opens to an explosion of pyro from the entrance stage as a clear shot looking down the entrance ramp comes into full focus. “Adrenaline” plays throughout the arena as the sounds of the Salt Lake City can be heard as well. Slowly, the camera creeps down the entrance ramp, looking from left to right at the crowd in attendance and zooming in to various signs held throughout the pack crowd.

NOBODY WANTS
YOU IN 4CW
CASS BUMASS

GENIE WE
LOVE YOU

CAN’T WAIT FOR
TAE TO STEAL
AQ’S WOMAN

YOU DON’T GET
TITLE 21-1021
FOR PISSING
IN PUBLIC

YOU DON’T HAVE
TO ASK ME TWICE

LORD AND
BAREFOOT
S A V I O R

ELI HAS RETURNED
TO SAVE US ALL

Down at the announcers booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa wait patiently before being given their queue to kick things off.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson, and we’re coming to you live tonight from the Vivint Smart Home Arena in Salt Lake City, Utah!”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa, and this is MY house!”

JOHNSON: ”We’re just coming off of Ante Up two weeks ago and we have a jam packed lineup for you all tonight here for Adrenaline Eighty-Seven.”

VASSA: ”Not only do we have a big lineup here tonight but we also have a new landscape here in 4CW following Ante Up.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right we do! We have some new champions and some who remained following the events of Ante Up. For starters, American Tommy has knocked Kaz off her throne, claiming the Octane Championship for himself.”

VASSA: ”Let’s just hope he can keep his feet off the gold and be a respectable champion like his peers.”

JOHNSON: ”Then with the Extreme Roulette taking place all night, Kimitsu Zombie walked away at the very end as your new XTV Champion.”

VASSA: ”And in what could arguably be considered 4CW’s biggest match of the year, Anastasia Hayden defeated Bryan Laughlin, Bronx Valescence, and the defending 4CW Champion, Chris Madison, in the Fatal Fourway Sixty Minute Iron Man match.”

JOHNSON: ”We have a new 4CW Champion ladies and gentlemen and that person is no one other than Anastasia Hayden!”

VASSA: ”And now with Ante Up behind us, he truck ahead with a new destination in sight and that being Bad Company.”

JOHNSON: ”You said it! We’re now gearing up for the biggest, most competitive tag team tournament in the entire wrestling world. It doesn’t get any better than this folks.”

VASSA: ”But before we get there, we have three Adrenaline’s on schedule and contenders to be named for the singles championships within 4CW.”

JOHNSON: ”We have a long road ahead of us but I can promise you all that you wouldn’t find this type of action anywhere else other than 4CW.”

VASSA: ”So without slowing thing down any longer, let us get on with our opening match because we have a huge card scheduled for tonight and you’re not going to want to miss a single second of it.”

OPENING MATCH
CRASH VS. JEB FISHER

We open this one with a flurry, well maybe more of a one sided flurry as Jeb Fisher unloaded just as the bell rang on the Crash Test Dummy which rocked the masked man up against the turnbuckle which lead to FIsher showing off his love of suplexing people. After a couple of snap suplexes, Fisher switches to a belly to back suplex which bends the Dummy in half with authority, making the Dummy live up to his name as he crashed onto the mat with a monster thud. Fisher went for a quick cover but was only able to get a two count as the Dummy was able to grab the bottom ropes. Fisher pulled the Dummy back up to his feet and connected with a deadlift pumphandle fallaway slam, which is a lot of movement and a pain to type out, which caused the Dummy to bounce off of the mat and through the middle and bottom ropes to the outside of the ring. Jeb, not wanting to waste a moment, headed to the outside just as Crash stood up near the guardrailing and just as Jeb charged in for a running knee lift, Crash ducked out of the way sending Jeb up and over the railing and into the crowd! The fans cheered as Jeb pulled himself up from the chairs, one fan even wondered if Bob would ever be coming back, but alas just before Jeb could remind him about what happened Crash connected with a diving forearm which knocked Fisher further into the sea of humanity… and some titties.

Crash brough Jeb back to the outside of the ring as he tossed him over the guardrailing once again and eventually back into the ring. Crash then showed off his in ring skills has he connected with a vicious dropkick right to the knees of Jeb Fisher taking him down to the mat and setting him up for a moonsault from the top ropes that impressed the crowd. Crash went for a cover of his own, but Fisher powered out after only one. Crash headed to the outside once again and just as Jeb got back up to his feet he leapt from the top turnbuckle connecting with a missile dropkick! Feeling it, Crash stood up and grabbed Jeb by the head and went for the Roll-Over Test, however, Jeb was able to counter it by tossing Crash into the corner turnbuckles! As Crash bounces back he does so right into the awaiting arms of Jeb Fisher who flings him up and over with an Everest German Suplex! Crash bounces off of his head and shoulder and eventually comes to a complete stop face down in the ring. Jeb pulls Crash over to his back and goes for a pin which again only leads to a two count as Crash gets his shoulder up at the last possible second. The fans dig the guts the masked man is showing in this match, but Jeb not so much. Jeb pulls the Crash Test Dummy back to his feet once again and this time sends him into the ropes with a hard whip, on the rebound Crash is able to duck under the clothesline attempt and leaps up onto the middle ropes and springboards right into a cross body block which takes down Fisher and gets the crowd to their feet! Crash hooks the leg, but the referee only slaps the canvas twice before Jeb throws his shoulder up into the air in defiance.

Feeling the crowd, Crash continued with the offense, hitting another series of dropkicks which dropped Jeb to the mat each time. After the last one, Crash charged and connected with a running kick to the back of Jeb’s skull! Jeb crumbled to the mat which with the crowd cheering him on gave Crash the opportunity to once again climb to the outside of the ring. With the crowd on their feet Crash flung himself off of the top ropes going for a 450 splash onto Jeb Fisher and putting this match away…

…but sadly, all that Crash connected with is the mat. Fisher moved out of the way and Crash eats the canvas full on. Fisher rolled back up to his feet and just as Crash is able to catch his breath one more time in this one is greeted by a boot to the back of his head and once again has his face driven into the mat. Jeb scoops him up…

JOHNSON: “Jeb Fisher looking for the end here he is just flips Crash up into that upside down position…”

VASSA: “Like a standing sixty-nine, Stevie!”

THHHHHHHHHHHHHHUD!!!

JOHNSON: “Abandon all hope as Jeb connects with the leaping piledriver! Here’s the cover…”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

WINNER: Jeb Fisher via Pinfall (7:30)

Fade to the back of the Vivint Smart Home Arena here in Salt Lake City, Utah. Yay Utah.

We’re at the most important place in the arena and that would be the buffet table and right now all near three hundred pounds of 4CW mongoloid talent that goes by the name of Freedumb is currently digging into all the tasty treats. Is that potato salad? Who knows, it goes right from the dish into Freedumb’s hands and is shoved into his wide open mouth. Some of it falls to the fall, some of it falls back to the buffet table and some of it ends up in the back of his throat as he mashes his dark teeth together.

Just as Freedumb’s about reach down and grab for another hunk of food a gloved hand taps down onto his shoulder stopping him the process. As the camera pans up there stands Victor Stranglepoli still wearing his skull mask, he pulls Freedumb back away from the buffet table.

STRANGLEPOLI: “I think you’ve had enough of that potato salad.”

Freedumb’s mouth is too full of potato salad to respond coherently, however he does manage to mumble something back towards Stranglepoli.

STRANGLEPOLI: “Motherfucker, I said don’t put your tubby ass giant hand into the potato salad. That’s too good of a potato salad for you to shovel that shit into your mouth like a steam shovel you methed out retard.”

STRANGLEPOLI: ”Hell, if I knew of a lawyer… any lawyer in the world that would sue your ass over you eating that delicious potato salad I would just snap my fingers and make him appear.”

Sure enough just like in the Avengers, Stranglepoli stands there for a moment before raising up his hand.

“SNAP!”

…and snaps his fingers.

There’s a pause. Nobody in the background turns to dust suddenly or slowly depending on if they have some line to deliver or not.

Freedumb looks about a little confused as some more potato salad falls from his mouth in his attempt to chew it inside his maw.

Stranglepoli looks around and then looks at his hand, he tries snapping his finger a couple of more times to make sure that its working properly. Still, nothing happens.

STRANGLEPOLI: “What the fuck? This is always supposed to work around here in 4CW.”

Freedumb finishes and taunts Stranglepoli.

FREEDUMB: “Ha ha! You no make lawyer appear. Me eat all I can now.”

Stranglepoli looks around one last time, Freedumb goes to reach for more food from the buffet table.

STRANGLEPOLI: “Wait one second there… I know why it didn’t work…”

Stranglepoli pulls off the the mask to reveal that it’s none other than 4CW resident lawyer Christopher J. Wrigley!

Wrigley stands there for a moment giving Freedumb the stink eye as Freedumb drools, because that’s all the big retard can do really. That’s like Freedumb’s shock response.

WRIGLEY: “Because the greatest motherfucking lawyer is already standing right here at this buffet table and he’s already filed suit against your inbred ass!! That’s right bitches, Wrigley’s back and he’s going to sue every motherfucker that crosses his path!!”

WRIGLEY: ”It’s time for pain! Pain, I said!”

Wrigley begins to look around. Freedumb begins to well up with tears as he marches off after covering his face with both hands, one still dripping with potato salad. Wrigley stands there making sure all the members of the 4CW crew that are currently in the buffet area see exactly what is going on. Wrigley turns back towards the food and mumbles to himself.

WRIGLEY: “The shit I do for this potato salad.”

Wrigley goes to shovel some of that stuff onto his plate when another man dressed exactly as Victor Stranglepoli stands behind Wrigley and taps him on his shoulder. Wrigley turns around with potato salad on his plate and a ear to ear smile on his face.

When he sees the real Stranglepoli, the smile begins to fade.

REAL STRANGLEPOLI: “I’m feeling like I’ve been robbed, know a good lawyer?”

With that we fade to black.

UNDERCARD
JOHNNY STORM VS. LORD RAAB

This match started out differently, as Johnny Storm or Captain America or whatever you want to call him stopped the moment the bell rang and asked for a handshake from the German Lord Raab. Raab hesitated for a moment, but at the urging of the crowd here in Salt Lake City, Utah which is technically a part of the United States Raab reaches out and shakes the hand of the American representative who shows his good faith by kicking Raab in the midsection! Storm then points to Raab and says ‘Never shake hands with a German, that’s just good common sense.’ and then followed that up with a couple of hammer shots across Raab’s back for good measure. Storm backs up and connects with a running soccer kick, and yes that’s soccer because this is America, right to Raab’s face which flips the German over onto his back. Captain America shows off his skills in the ring as he hits a standing moonsault and hooks the leg for the cover, but only gets a two count. Showing no signs of respect to this opponent Storm slaps Raab across the back of the head a couple of times and then plays to the crowd that that one was for America. There are some cheers, but not many directed towards Storm, but Storm plays it off that they’re booing the foreigner instead of him. Storm steps right down onto the back of Raab in another show of disrespect as he continues to play to the crowd. He goes back to the attack pulling Raab back up to his feet and dumps him into the nearest corner turnbuckle. Storm charges into the corner and connects with a running Freedom splash, as Raab stumbles from the corner Storm charges from behind and drives Lord Raab face first into the ring canvas with an American Bulldog! Storm flips Raab over and very casually goes for a cover, but Raab is able to get his shoulder up at the count of the two. This seemingly catches Storm by surprise as the jovial look from under his mask disappears and is replaced by a look of confusion, Storm complains about the speed of the count.

VASSA: “I think he just called the referee a communist because of the speed of that count, Stevie.”

JOHNSON: “Yep, this is real life folks.”

Captain America once again pulls Raab up to a standing base with a big time scoop and slam, Storm drops Raab onto his back. As Storm backs up to the ropes he shouts out to all the true Americans in the crowd and charges in before leaping into the air and connecting with a legdrop for freedom! Unfortunately for Storm the legdrop only his the ring as his opponent is able to roll out of the way and all the impact goes right up the spine of Captain America. Raab uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet and as he charges in he connects with a couple of well placed European uppercuts! The first two uppercuts rock Storm up against the ring ropes and the third one nearly rocks Storm out of his boots. Raab sends Storm across the ropes with an Irish whip and connects with a running clothesline nearly taking off the head of Captain America in the process. Raab wraps a rear waist lock on Storm and hits a German suplex, which he quickly rolls through and scoops up Storm to hit a second German suplex, sure enough Raab finishes off the trifecta of rolling German Suplexes and finishes this one off with a high bridge and only a two count as Storm is able to kickout at the last moment.

JOHNSON: “All of these foreign moves proving to be the kryptonite to Captain America Johnny Storm here tonight.”

VASSA: “Holy shit, I hadn’t even noticed that. Maybe we need to do something here… for America, you know?”

Raab gets back up to his feet and pulls Storm back up as well, however, Storm counters with an uppercut of his own which stuns the German long enough for Storm to leap up high into the air and connect with a leaping dropkick which catches Raab in the teeth. Raab stumbles backwards into the ropes and right into a powerslam by Storm. This gets Storm pumped up as he heads towards the ring ropes and climbs them while keeping an eye on his opponent the whole time, as Raab begins to get back up to his feet Storm screams out this one is for liberty as he leaps and connects with a diving lariat from the middle ropes. As Raab once again begins to get back to his feet, Storm boots him in the midsection and hooks on what appears to be the start of his Freedom Driver, but Raab is able to break the hold as he shoves off his opponent. Raab blasts Storm in the face with a hard punch which rocks him backwards.

VASSA: “What was that? Was that a Mongolian Chop?”

JOHNSON: “Nope, that was just a good old fashioned punch.”

Raab follows that one up with a couple of more punches, each one rocking the patriot back in the ring some more. Storm tries to fire back with a wild swing, but instead Raab catches him with a hand around the throat of Storm and lifts him up into the air and connects with a chokeslam!! Raab goes for the cover, but only gets two and a half for his efforts as Storm is able to kick out. Raab goes to pull Storm back up to his feet again, but with the referee not looking Storm is able to connect with a low blow! Storm quickly then hoists Lord Raab up onto his shoulders. Storm goes to spin Raab into the Freedom Bomb, but Raab is able to slip out and land on his feet, he counters with a boot to the midsection and a double underhook lock up.

JOHNSON: “We are all too familiar with what this could mean for Johnny Storm.”

VASSA: “That Germany is going to win.”

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

JOHNSON: “Raab connects with that double arm brainbuster, the Killerbuster as he calls it and here’s the cover…”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

WINNER: Lord Raab via Pinfall (8:01)

Backstage, specifically the parking lot! We follow Tiphany Banks, the backstage interviewer armed with nothing but a microphone and a crew, as she approaches a large Range Rover-looking vehicle, packed to the teeth with everything from blankets and bedding to wrestling boots and gear. As we approach, we also hear panicked mumbling. Tiphany turns to us.

BANKS: ”…I knew it. There she is. Come on…”

As we get closer, we see the mumbling belongs to a short, stocky girl with long red hair spilling out of a black beanie, routing around in the open door of the car.

BANKS: ”Told you she was gonna be here!”

CAMERAMAN: ”Is….is that Kaelin?”

BANKS: ”No it’s not Kae, it’s–“

The girl hears chatter and turns around quickly, eyes wild and not stopping as they scan Tiphany.

No, it’s not Kaelin. It’s Emery Layton!

LAYTON: “What? Oh my God, no, I–ow. Dammit.”

Smacking her head on the roof of the car as she comes out, Em is frantic.

LAYTON: “No. Nonononono, you can’t be here, man. No one’s supposed to– I’m not supposed to–ah, are we live?”

BANKS: ”Yes we are. For about a minute not.”

LAYTON: “Dammit. Amy’s gonna kill me.”

CAMERAMAN: ”I don’t get it- who is this person?”

BANKS: ”You don’t know her? It’s Emery Layton- current Union Battleground Champion! Former Supreme XWA Champion, wrestled all over the world! Emery Layton is hugely accomplished.”

Em rubs her head, still hurting after smacking it a few seconds ago.

LAYTON: “Yeah and Emery Layton’s up Shit Creek right now if she can’t find a–ooh. Oh, hang on a sec. You got questions for me, yeah?”

BANKS: ”Well, yeah, what are you doing here? Why are you on Adrenaline?”

LAYTON: “Tell you what, I got a question for you instead cos I been searching for it and I can’t find one. So–Tiphany, was it? I got a huge question and life as you know it might just depend on what you say right now, I tell ya now, life’s about to take a turn dependent on what you gotta say to me now…Do you have a spare pen I could borrow?”

Tiphany fumbles around in her pocket, eventually handing Em a small pen. The Worst of the Pavees grins, grabbing a piece of paper she had sat on her car seat for the last a few seconds as she winks and clicks her tongue, giving Tiphany a bro-punch on the arm before she swans off.

LAYTON: “Cheers! See ya round!”

CAMERAMAN: ”I don’t get it- who exactly are you?”

Emery spins around, stopping and standing, all epic and proud.

LAYTON: “I’m Emery Layton- the Worst of the Pavees. The International Woman. I’m the girl who held the Trench War Championship for 404 days. I walk these streets and they call me the Travelling She-King of Modern Wrestling. The one, the only…and the best. Now if you don’t mind, I got somewhere else to be right now…”

And off she goes, in the night, as Adrenaline continues.

UNDERCARD
MAGDALENA LOCKHEART VS. JAY MORA

The match comes out nothing like an expected wrestling match but more of a full on brawl. Jay Mora being the bigger man takes the hits from Magdalena Lockheart none of the punches fully. The pressure from her stepping forward on him though giving him no room as he hits the ropes. Lockheart keeps the fire going adding a few low kicks to her strikes looking for an opening having him hanging against the ropes Lockheart runs for the opposite ropes coming back full steam…to be killed by a spinebuster planting Lockheart to the mat. The crowd “oohs” collectively to the impact given as Mora takes the time to recollect.

Lockheart works on trying to find her footing but Mora makes it hard for her with a few stomps while she’s down on the mat. The crowd booing him along as he waits for Lockheart to get to her knees and kicks her again. She gets to her knees and he kicks her again. Finally having enough once she gets to her knees again Mora goes for the kick again not even attempting to mix it up. Lockheart grips the foot and tripping him to the mat getting the momentum to shift and the crowd cheering. The kicks and showing off getting to her as she immediately pounces on Mora and mounting him and going completely the fuck off on his face.

She gets up screaming out toward all of Utah. I mean other than Salt Lake City what the fuck is even in Utah…feeling herself and getting all the momentum underneath here. Mora wasn’t ready for that springing out of nowhere attack out of her. He was even less prepared for what was to come as he reaches his feet. Eclipsis Lunae…Her Black Mass Kick levels the fuck out of Jay Mora making him become damn near one with the mat just a puddle of what the Marksman used to be.

The crowd wows a bit for the signature move being acquainted with it but she isn’t done. Sure she could go for the 3 count right now and could probably get it but she needs to prove a point. She said it herself, she needed to prove that point and watching Mora slowly show movement she knew the exactly way she would make it. Mora was nowhere near this moment in time. He’s nowhere in the Vivint Smart Home Arena. Nowhere near Salt Lake City. Nowhere near this time zone or country. He can only move toward an army crawl like position and he does that at a snail’s pace. Lockheart watches him struggling but she doesn’t taunt in the moment. Her eyes stay fixed on the Marksman waiting for that perfect moment. Seconds later she takes off heading straight for Mora’s head…

Lacrimosa…the curb stomp that brings the crowd to their feet and The Artist to pin Mora for three.

WINNER: Magdalena Lockheart via Pinfall (7:49)

? ? ? : “I’m telling you, you’d love Pensacola. No snow, for starters. Then there’s the sun, and beaches. There are even houses right on the beach, like mine. You could walk a hundred feet out to a boat and be on the ocean. Can you really do that in Toronto? Just something to think about.”

As the cameras faded in backstage they found the returning Aidan Carlisle deep in conversation on her phone. Already dressed and ready to go for her upcoming match, she’s killing time chatting with someone. Judging by the conversation, it’s likely her LFL friend Hannah Hartman. Whatever response she receives from the other end makes her snicker.

CARLISLE: “Something tells me you could handle that. You know I’m just teasing you. Sort of. I mean everything I’ve said is true and you should totally take it into consideration. You do whatever you think is best for you, it’s not gonna change my opinion either way. I should get going for now anyway.”

After a few more moments she tucks her phone away into the pocket of her jacket, glancing up and finally noticing the cameras were present.

CARLISLE: “I imagine everyone was expecting something a little more grand, yeah? Maybe something from the boiler room in the dark where I could recite some poetry or song lyrics all scary-like? Or maybe I was supposed to come down to the ring and ruin someone’s monologuing. Hell if I wanted to go with 4CW tradition I could have crashed a Main Event and beat someone up for no apparent reason but to try to get myself in the spotlight.”

A cheeky smirk crossed her face before she gave an falsely innocent shrug.

CARLISLE: “Thing is? I don’t need to do any of that to be in the spotlight. Wherever go, whatever I do, I just am. 4CW is no different. I let my actions do the talking. I let my matches speak for themselves. What is my match tonight going to say? Well, aside from ‘I told you so, Mark Storm.’ That’s up to you to decide, I suppose. I know why I’m here, I know what my goal is. I don’t care if anyone else does and I don’t need to shout it at the top of my lungs to whoever will listen.”

Aidan comes to a stop at the edge of the locker room area, leaning her shoulder into the door frame.

CARLISLE: “Tonight will be step one, the first of many. I can’t tell you when it will all come to a head. I can’t say when it will pay off and I achieve what it is I set out to do. But I can promise that it will happen. However long it takes, hell or high water, I will find my way to the top of 4CW. Mark my words.”

With nothing left to say, she nudges the camera away and opens the door to her locker room, disappearing inside and letting the door swing shut behind her.

The cameras cut back to ringside where no one other than Perry Wallace stands in the center of the ring with a duffle bag at his feet. In his hand is a microphone and he doesn’t waste anytime at all before speaking out to the Salt Lake City crowd.

WALLACE: “Good evening Salt Lake City!”

He gets mixed reactions from the crowd as he stands in the center of the ring. He isn’t surprised by it one bit. In fact he’s used to it, more so the boos that are heard throughout the sea of people in attendance.

WALLACE: “Nice to see you all too! It’s always a pleasure to come out here and address you all personally. Look it, we have a big lineup still ahead of us so I won’t take up much of your time.”

Pacing the ring, Perry walks from corner to corner, overlooking the crowd. After reaching the fourth corner, he stops in his tracks and raises the microphone to his lips.

WALLACE: “So allow me to cut straight to the point. There are two things I want to address here tonight. One of which being Bad Company which is just around the corner. I have been in contact with several teams, both in and out of 4CW and I can promise you all that this years pay-per-view, the toughest tag team tournament in ALL of wrestling is primed to deliver as promised. Some teams have been announced already, and some haven’t. Be on the lookout over the next several weeks for the names to begin making themselves known. Some face you may recognize, some you may not depending on what other promotions you may follow. Ante Up is behind up and we’re now gearing up for war with multiple teams all gunning for the same thing. That being the 4CW Tag Team Championships and one million dollars!”

The reaction from the fans is a lot better than originally. It isn’t very often that Perry grabs their attention in a positive manner.

WALLACE: “Now onto my main objective here tonight. As I said a moment ago, Ante Up is behind up and with that we have some changes taking place within 4CW. It’s no secret that this year’s Extreme Roulette was what many would call a dud compared to years past. And with that, I would like to call out your new XTV Champion to the ring. Kimitsu, if you can hear me, please come join me in the ring.”

He waits for just a short moment before speaking up once more.

WALLACE: “Please don’t bring Feets with you. Thank you.”

Number Girl’s Tattoo Ari blares out of the comes on, and Kimitsu Zombie comes out with her XTV title on her shoulder, and a bottle of shochu in her hand. She has her bosozoku jacket on over street clothes of a shirt and a skirt. She walks down to the ring while fist bumping a select few in the audience, but always keeping a wary stink eye on Perry Wallace.

Now standing back in the center of the ring with the duffle bag at his feet, Perry looks to Kimi, his XTV Champion.

WALLACE: “What I said a moment ago about the Extreme Roulette was in no way a shot at you. What I meant by that is the lack of participation compared to previous Extreme Roulette’s in terms of challengers. 4CW has changed quite a bit over the years, and I mean that in a good way. I couldn’t be more happier with the amount of talent we have within this company compared to the likes of the competition. I said there was change taking place within 4CW, some of which has already been evolving into what the landscape of 4CW looks like today. What do you think Kimi?”

Kimitsu laughs and sets her shochu down in the corner. She thinks for a few moments while coming back to the center of the ring.

ZOMBIE: “You know that saying that goes: ‘Be the change you want to see?’ Well I tried, Wallace. I tried to call out anyone that wasn’t occupied that night to step up and take me on. I made a list, and I named some people. I don’t know what that might say about me or 4CW if none of those people stepped up. Still, I got a good fight out of Eric Donavan, and I’m so glad Cyrus Riddle came out. He had a chip on his shoulder and a monkey on his back in Johnny Evil, but that is the caliber of opponent that this title attracted. And I beat him. I beat them all. I’m sure there are a hundred ways the guys in the back can undercut this accomplishment so what have you got?”

Looking to the duffle bag at his feet for just a short moment, he cuts his eyes back upwards to Kimitsu.

WALLACE: “It’s no secret that as a whole, the 4CW roster doesn’t quite have the depth it used to in the extreme, no holds barred type of wrestler. We see more and more people coming to 4CW who would rather wrestle straight up than having weapons or no rules in their favor, or their opponents. After all, this is wrestling and 4CW is at the top of the mountain when it comes to the amount of talent that is signed to this company.”

He paces the ring, taking just a short moment before speaking once more.

WALLACE: “That championship you have there Kimitsu has seen plenty of violence, gallons of blood spilt, and absolute chaos both in and outside of the ring. But a championship is only as good as the competition and with the lack of ‘specialty’ wrestlers to compete for it, it decreases in value. And that’s in no way whatsoever your fault! Believe me when I say that. Whether there was only one single challenger or one hundred, I know without a doubt that you would step up to the challenge and defend it with everything you have. I’m proud to have you as a champion, Kimitsu.”

Kimitsu takes a step back in shock at a compliment from Perry Wallace, The Scatman himself.

ZOMBIE: “This title has seen its share of shame and redemption. From the Neveah and Wilder, to Morta, Carlson, and Kinsley. I think you all know that the one thing I have is a fucking great work ethic. I’ll do my best to bring this title some credibility once again. I am a wiser champion this time around, and that makes this dangerous… Fuck a gimmick.”

He picks up the duffle bag with his other hand, holding it at his side as he looks to Kimitsu.

WALLACE: “4CW is proud to have you as a champion. I am proud to have you as a champion. Everyone here is proud to have you as a champion.”

Walking over to her, he extends his arm in her direction, presenting the duffle bag to her.

WALLACE: “And I’m proud to have you bring in a new era to 4CW.”

She takes the duffle bag, opening it up and discovering the contents inside.

WALLACE: “Here, let me hold the XTV Championship for you.”

She hands him the XTV Championship before pulling out a brand new championship.

WALLACE: “I’m proud to have you as our 4CW North American champion!”

Kimitsu still watches Wallace with a jaded look. She can’t help but smirk afterwards when she takes a look at the new championship. She holds up the belt for the fans.

WALLACE: “While 4CW may not have the depth of extreme and hardcore wrestlers as it used to, it does in fact have the depth of traditional wrestlers who want nothing but to prove themselves as the best in this sport. Right here, right now, I present to you this championship to bring in a new era of 4CW. There are far more people in the back who will want this championship compared to the XTV and you’re exactly the person to bring it all together moving forward. So… is there anything our 4CW North American Champion would like to say to these fans here in Salt Lake City?”

Kimitsu puts the title on her shoulder and looks around at the audience.

ZOMBIE: “I just want to make one thing clear. This is not the death of the hardcore. This title will still have all that history of violence and blood as long as I am carrying it. That is what got me into wrestling in the first place, and I’ve had my share of matches where I wasn’t sure if I was going to come out of them alive. That spirit lives on in any match I have, and it will still be on full display whenever I defend this title. As your North American Champion, I’m going to show any type of wrestler that steps up what it takes to be a champion in 4CW. It’s all about endurance, sacrifice, and pain. No matter what.”

As Kimitsu closes, Perry steps in beside her, raising one of her arms into the air as she raises the other with the championship held high above her head.

KAISER: “The definition to my excitement was being able to go against Genevie Carlson and beat her. I enjoy a good fight and she’s one of those scrappy girls from the streets with some proper training. That means she’ll get down in the muck and grime with you and not shy away from the fight. In the vast world of professional wrestling, we see people turtle up in their shells and act like there isn’t a world beyond what they want to see. So, they won’t fight people like me. I don’t get a real fight anymore. That’s where my excitement came from, but like always, someone has to ruin it.”

KAISER: “She cracked her knuckles, stretched your fingers, and got on Twitter like she always does. Twitter’s important, they say, but she decided to reply to my message with the same brand of hostility—I mean, pettiness.”

Artemis lifts her fingers and air quotes upon the word “pettiness.” After which, she scowls grimly, a dissatisfied look crossing her scarred features.

KAISER: “Of course she had to. She couldn’t just take a message and understand it. No, she got to shifting it around to fit the narrative she was trying to build. Then like a bad blowjob, she killed my mood. That’s the most damage she may ever do to me, really.”

The young lady scoffs at the notion, taking out his container of red paint. She applies it quickly, a motion she have done repeatedly for the past few years.

KAISER: “She shifted the narrative because she doesn’t understand me nor the match she’s walking into. That’s fine. It’s hard for anyone to come to terms with a potential ass beating. When you look in the mirror, they think they’re untouchable, unbeatable. Then they wonder what happens when they get hit by something they’ve witnessed before.”

Artemis inspects the red marking, seeing if anything was off—maybe her aim was off. Once she confirms that it was perfect, she turns behind her to grab a shirt. All that was on it was a section of the United States map.

KAISER: “Was I going to have fun prior to our conversation? Oh, yes. It was going to be competitive, but now we’re walking into a beatdown. There’s going to be blood, sweat, and tears forced out of Genevie Carlson by my hand. I’ll gladly use this as my stepping stone higher. And then from there, there’s a track that I’m following with names all along them. With each victory, I’ll get closer to what I really want.”

Artemis clenches his fists, staring at the wrapping she set.

KAISER: “After that, I have my sights on one individual before I can take the prize that I dream of.”

UNDERCARD
CADEN WALKER VS. MARIANO FERNANDEZ

Mariano had kicked Caden so hard in the chest, he almost caved it in as Caden wobbled around in the ring like he had just caught a shotgun shell to the front. Mariano moved swiftly around in the ring as he tried to stay close to Caden enough to where Caden didnt think he could catch a breather or think he could escape. Manny was way too focused that he wasnt even entertaining the audience with reactions to all of the Lizzie McGuire songs they were singing out loud to try to catch Manny’s attention, not to purposely distract him so that Caden could get the upper but to show their support for him in their usual off kilter way. Caden rushes forward with a fast running crossbody and lets out an animalistic yell into the air, something that didnt freak out the corners four audience because they’ve done seen and heard it all. Manny gets to his feet and isnt the least bit intimidated by the yell but the camera picks up him saying, ‘Whats your problem, mang?’ before moving out of the way when Caden bum rushes for him and ends up bouncing against the ropes and coming at Manny fast with a clothesline. But Manny ducks and Caden catches all air before catching two feet into the back from a surprise dropkick attack from Manny.

Judging by Caden’s movements and the sounds he makes, Manny realizes the man most likely doesn’t have it all concerning his mental state and makes sure to watch him even closer especially when he notices Caden’s movements being more impulsive rather than calculated. Caden rushed Manny like a jaywalker trying to cut across a busy street and caught Manny in the jaw with a good timed punch but didnt count on Manny clocking him back with a sudden left hook and then going for jump swing DDT. But Caden wasnt giving up that easy, he lifts a knee to drive into Manny’s gut and attempts to do it a second time but this time with much more force but Manny was able to stop that. It seemed that throughout this match, Manny was doing more stopping the opponent instead of laying hands on him so Manny went to work and begin coming at Caden a great many different ways to lay him out just the same on the mat. Caden begins barreling at Manny, not caring about hurting himself in the process just as long as Manny was hurt as well.

But Manny was too smart for that and kind of predicted that Caden would become much more aggressive and impulsive as the match dragged on and Caden did whatever to try to inflict harm on Manny but to no avail since Manny did his absolute best to not put himself in the position to get laid out in the middle of the ring by an unhinged person. Caden was bursting with energy and adrenaline, thinking he had it in the bag and was going to bring the win on home…. but just like it proved not to be the case with a certain country dealing with a certain sport today, Caden wasnt bringing the win home as Manny went for the Dovahkiin Driver and then the pin for a successful three count.

WINNER: Mariano Fernandez via Pinfall (7:11)

UNDERCARD
MARK STORM VS. AIDAN CARLISLE

The crowd is still electric from Aidan’s return and also in part because of Storm’s large fanbase. The two spent some time sizing one another up before they went at it. After some back and forth, Aidan broke from a collar and elbow tie up and hit Storm with a frankensteiner out of nowhere! The crowd reacts accordingly. Storm isn’t down for more than a nanosecond, but Carlisle is on him with the quickness after she kips up, throwing all of her weight into the unbalanced Mark Storm, sending them both crashing back down to the mat, before she begins pummeling him with forearms. Storm takes this beating for a couple moments before he uses his strength advantage to headbutt Carlisle in the chest. Back on their feet, Storm presses his advantage with a running lariat followed by a discus elbow.

After a few minutes of back and forth, Aidan takes control again with a spinning roundhouse kick that knocks Storm into the ropes, following with a handstand headscissors on the rebound. With Storm on the canvas she goes for an elbow drop, but Mark rolls out of the way at the last second. Storm hits the ropes and comes back for a basement dropkick. He looks to grab a leg for a submission, but Carlisle is wise to it and rols to the ropes to prevent him from locking on. She lunges after getting back to her feet, but Storm is ready and counters with a spinebuster. He goes for a big boot as she gets to her feet, but she scouts it and slides under for an attempted roll up, however Storm gets a shoulder up at two.

A surprise slingblade allows Storm to get the upper hand. He’s ready as Carlisle stands and hits a crisp northern lights suplex, bridging for a pin attempt but Aidan gets a shoulder up at two. He keeps her on the defensive with a high kick to the chest before she can fully regain her balance, sending her back to the mat. Storm then quickly fires off his standing moonsault and hooks a leg for another pin attempt, but again only gets two. Mark is still back on his feet first, standing over Aidan and wrapping his arms around her midsection. Carlisle gives him a few forearms to the face to try to break free, but he ignores them, lifting her off of the canvas and getting her into position for a deadlift gutwrench sitout powerbomb… But Aidan counters into a sitout face slam!

Storm and Aidan are both starting to tire. Mark lands a series of intense strikes and looks to finish off with a spinning back kick, but Aidan catches his leg and brings him down with a dragon screw. Without releasing his leg she drives her elbow into the inside of his knee a few times before getting to her feet for a leg DDT that leaves Storm holding his knee for a few moments. She looks to follow with a stomp to that same knee, but Mark rolls away. As Storm gets back to his feet, Aidan is ready with a clothesline, calf kick, swinging neckbreaker combo trying to keep Storm down and put him away but he gets up each time. A quick elbow strike from Storm allows him to hit a step up enziguri. Aidan staggers, but shakes it off and catches Mark on the jaw with a forearm so stiff it knocks him halfway across the ring.

A desperation springboard uppercut from Storm creates some separation and allows him to counter an incoming forearm smash with a Japanese clothesline, but he’s not able to lock the armbar in afterward. As soon as they are both back on their feet Carlisle hits a running high knee that knocks Storm into a corner. She hops onto the second rope for some mounted punches but Storm breaks loose with a few open palm strikes and follows her out. Aidan pivots around behind and throws an arm across his throat, looking for the Bitch Breaker. Mark grabs her forearm and heaves himself forward, throwing her over him, but Aidan lands on her feet. She looks for a quick clothesline but Mark ducks under. Storm rebounds off of the ropes, looking for a huge clothesline, but Aidan wraps her arm around his and uses it to counter into the Litost floatover piledriver! She rolls Storm over for the pin and gets a three count.

WINNER: Aidan Carlisle via Pinfall (13:58)

”QUACK!

E. CARLSON: ”Chill you little as….awesome creature.”

With his feet kicked up on a foot stool as he leaned back on the two legs of a metal chair, Eli tossed a piece of popcorn to an impatient duck that wasn’t so little and fluffy anymore. When it bounced off the the birds beak, Eli clicked his tongue in disappointment. When the camera panned out it showed pieces of popcorn scattered on the floor around where the duck was standing. Quacking again impatiently, the bird was clearly wanting Eli to throw him another piece.

E. CARLSON: ”I’m not throwing you another one until you eat all the other ones you missed.”

That wasn’t true because a moment later the duck quacked at him again and Eli instinctively just tossed the piece in his hand back at the bird. Of course it didn’t catch it because he wasn’t a very talented duck. Nobody would ever tell him that, though, because Eli would inflict severe bodily harm on them for doing so.

E. CARLSON: ”C’mon Louis. We’ve been practicing this for like five minutes now. You’ve gotta catch at least one. We’ll try it one more time but if you miss this one I’m telling you we’re done. For real.”

Reaching his hand into the box of popcorn Eli retrieved another piece and then prepared to toss it, counting down from three only to have the door swing open and interrupt the two.Genevie walked into the room and rolled her eyes looking at the mess of popcorn around the locker room. The duck quacked at her and walked over to her where she leaned down and scratched his head.

G. CARLSON: ”Are you making a mess in here cutie?”

The duck quacked happily in response, flapping its wings a bit as she looked over at Eli sitting in his chair. She grinned. It was no secret to anyone Just how happy she was that Eli had came back to 4CW the same time she had. She walked over and sat in his lap.

G. CARLSON: ”Hey there you. Really excited that you’re here. That we are here. That our debuts back here are going to be against two people that so many will say are great talents and in the end we will squash them like little ants.”

Genevie gave Eli a passionate kiss. One that lingered long enough to make the duck come over and gently start pecking at their legs. She frowned and shoo’d him away

G. CARLSON: ”I don’t know why you insist we bring the duck though. We’ve got bigger things then having to worry about him right now.”

E. CARLSON: ”He brings good karma. Good juju. Anytime he doesn’t go with me on these trips anymore, bad stuff happens. So he comes with me.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Eli said it matter of factly enough that it sounded like it was something that anyone and everyone should know. But the truth was he’d really just gotten used to bringing the duck along when he travelled for work when he and Genie were working in different places. Now it was just a habit he wasn’t willing to break.

E. CARLSON: ”So… Are you gonna break the news? Or should I? OR EVEN BETTER! We could let Louis break it.”

”QUACK!

E. CARLSON: ”See.”

Genevie smiles and rolled her eyes but nodded her head. Turning to the camera and acknowledging it for the first time since she had walked into the room.

G. CARLSON: ”Alright bitches listen up. There’s no better way to say this other than this. Bad Company is fast approaching and the tag team that wins gets a fuck ton of money and the tag belts. I like gold, I like money. Eli likes those things too. So guess what? Consider this us officially announcing our entrance into Bad Company. It’s about time the tag titles got a little better than a no shoe wearing bum and a prison rapist as champions. It’s time for the 4CW Tag Team Championships to belong to class and people who actually wear fucking shoes.”

While Genie was talking, Eli had been rummaging through his bag to pull out a white board that he began to draw a bracket on. In each of the spots where other team names were supposed to be he drew various sized penises and crude depictions of Vossler. When he reached the spot right in the middle of the bracket where the champions name should go he wrote three simple letters. T.C.D.

E. CARLSON: ”It doesn’t really matter who all is in this tournament. Be it the return of WORLD DOLLAR SIGN TAR or DEEE PEEE GEEEE or Ascended Supremacy. Or even a blast from the past in the Black Republicans. It. Doesn’t. Matter. Look back throughout the history of my wife and I and our tenures in this company. When we put our minds to something, there’s not a damn person or team or stable or UNSTABLE in this company that can stop us. I told you all at Ante Up. It’s time for the system to be shocked. It’s time for everyone who has sat back on their asses and been comfortable for the last year to receive that unpleasant wake up call. It’s all about Genie and Eli. It’s all about The Carlson Dynasty.”

Genie was still grinning with glee as she clapped her hands together admiring her husband, and his pictures as he spoke. She then looked at the camera.

G. CARLSON: ”The only Dynasty, Royalty, Family or any other stupid team name you dumb fucks come up with, that matters. We’ve built a Legacy. A Dynasty from traveling the world separate. Now it’s time to show everyone that we can come together and beat anyone who thinks they can walk into a ring with us and holda candle to the level of talent we are about to bring. Pathetic. Worthless. Trash the lot of you.As far as I’m concerned The Royal Family? Was the Bottom. And The Carlson Dynasty. Is going to be the fucking top. Consider Bad Company? SNATCHED.”

Genevie smirked and went back to ignoring the camera. As did Elijah as they began playing with their duck. Feeding him popcorn and giving him attention until the scene faded out.

UNDERCARD
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
ALEXIS MERCER VS. ERIC DONAVAN VS. JAIR HOPKINS

Donavan and Hopkins charge at one another, while Mercer looks on from her corner. Jair gets the edge and takes Donavan down with a single leg takedown. From there, Jair pounces on Eric and begins raining down blows upon him, though it doesn’t take long for Mercer to rush Jair and dropkick the Hall of Famer off of the Irishman. In just a moment, they all find their footing and take a moment to reassess their strategies. Donavan and Jair are drawn to each other again, quickly locking up in a collar tie briefly before Eric finagles Jair into an Irish whip. Because, he’s Irish. That’s my attempt to make this funny? I don’t know. Like I just told Perry, I’m used to doing this on drugs, so bear with me this week. Anyway, Donavan flings Jair toward the ropes and upon his return flight, Eric meets him with a running single leg dropkick, sending Jair toppling over the ropes onto the lightly padded, unforgiving ringside floor below. Donavan springs to his feet to check on the damage, just to be pushed from the ring by Alexis. With the two male combatants outside of the ring, Alexis decides to follow, but as soon as she reaches the ring apron, one leg is taken by each opposing wrestler and she falls square on her back.

Mercer lays in the corner of the ring, incapacitated, with no explanation, as that’s just how this is gonna work for right now, okay? Awesome. Thanks. Donavan is holding Jair in a side headlock. Jair utilizes his deceiving upper body strength to lift Donavan into the air before dropping him down to the mat with a belly to back suplex. He kips up and wastes no time leaping for the ropes. His feet catch the middle ring rope, which he uses to springboard backwards, landing a blind leg drop on Eric, showing off his indelible ring awareness. He goes for a cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Jair is not discouraged by the failed pin attempt. He lifts Donavan to his feet and throws him against the ropes before he starts running after him. As soon as Eric hits the ropes, Jair is there to greet him with a flying calf kick, which sends the Irish Dragon flying over the top rope and down to the ringside floor below. Jair finds his footing and grips the ropes, springboarding up and out of the ring, landing a flying senton on his downed opponent. The crowd pops big for this. That move took a little bit out of Jair, as he is slow to get up. Mercer had been stirring as the aforementioned action went down, and was now on her feet. She sees a golden opportunity to take both of her somewhat incapacitated opponents down by launching herself through the middle and bottom ropes, landing a nasty suicide dive! The crowd pops.

Hopkins and Mercer are found standing on the ring apron, both on their knees, slowly trying to reach their feet- inside the ring, Donavan has just found his. Eric bounces from the far ropes and heads straight toward his reeling opponents. He dives, feet first, through the top and middle ropes, and pulls off a 619, rocking Mercer square in the back, sending her flying into Hopkins, which ultimately leads to them both falling off of the apron down to ringside. The fans pop loud for this, but Donavan isn’t finished yet. He jumps over the top rope and lands on the apron. He takes a moment to survey the wreckage before him, and then he takes off down the apron before he takes flight and lands a cannonball on both of his reeling opponents! The fans go nuts!

It is absolutely ludicrous how quick shit changes in the realm of professional wrestling. Mercer and Jair were JUST bulldozed by Eric Donavan- NOW!? Mercer holds Jair in a crossface crippler, as Donavan struggles to find his footing, climbing up the turnbuckles, one by one. What. The fuck. HAPPENED?! Trust me, it wasn’t exciting, or I would have filled you in. Promise. Anyway, Mercer applies pressure to the crossface and Jair struggles to free himself. He inches closer and closer to the ring ropes as the fans cheer him on. They must be wondering if Jair was weak for a man, considering he is apparently unable to disrupt Mercer’s grip. It’s really not a sexist thing, it’s more like a physiological thing…but, I’m also an asshole, and didn’t need to bring it up. I should probably practice acceptance and just suspend my disbelief. Anyway, Jair was on the verge of tapping, Donavan shot his feet into Alexis’ back with a missile dropkick, breaking up the hold! With great haste, Donavan attempts to go for the pin on a hurting Hopkins…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Mercer unnecessarily breaks up the hold, because Jair was gonna kick out anyway, but whatever- she does that via axe handle and Donavan becomes relatively incensed! He spins to face Mercer, who throws a swift kick his way, only to have it be caught by the Irish Dragon, who unleashes a Red Dragon Suplex (Capture Suplex), sending her crashing hard down on to the mat. Eric crouches down and stares at Alexis, who struggles to find her bearings. The fans are frenzied, at this point. As Donavan stalks his prey, Hops slowly puts himself back together. As Donavan goes to strike, Hopkins strikes first from behind (in a straight way, mongoloids) and executes Bread ‘n Butter! The crowd goes insane! But he can’t make the cover! He’s exhausted! Eventually, Alexis and Jair find their feet at the same time, but Jair’s back is to Alexis. Mercer nails the former two time 4CW Champion with a reverse frankensteiner! Jair’s almost out cold!

Donavan finds his feet!

Mercer turns around!

DRAGON FANG!!!

The Irish Dragon falls on Mercer, hooking her left leg, while trapping her right!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

WINNER: Eric Donavan via Pinfall (11:47)

The Vivint Smart Home Arena is at capacity for tonight’s 4CW. Main evented by the inevitably amazing encounter between Dakota Smith and Bryan Laughlin, the card for the night is yet another testament to the company’s thriving and increasing success. Backstage, Cyrus Riddle is calmly sitting in his locker room, fingers pressing one another gently as his sight directs forward and toward the floor.

RIDDLE: “Do you hear them, Johnny? The rabid fans… the wrestling fans… the extreme fans. I’ve sold my vision for the future out just one more time to appease you and your blood crusade. You say you’re doing it for my sake, but I know the truth behind the narrative you are pushing.”

Riddle points into the air and gazes into the camera.

RIDDLE: “Them… you want to play court jester in an effort to get back in the good graces and relevance of the people, of Perry Wallace, of me. But, oh no, that can’t and won’t happen tonight. You’ve plead your case, you want The Impaler… and when he strikes, you disappear at the snap of Thanos’ fingers. I control this world, Evil… me. You are the forgotten, the unwanted, the misfit cast to his own island where nobody concerns themselves with if you come home or not.”

A silent scoff breaks Riddle’s otherwise serious expression, which transitions into one of amusement.

RIDDLE: “You latched on to me so you could have this moment, so that we could leave a mark on everyone that they will remember. But, by the end of tonight, the only mark left will be the bloody print of your face on the mat. You… wanted… this!”

The picture fades out slowly.

UNDERCARD
ARTEMIS KAISER VS. GENEVIE CARLSON

The two women instantly tried to take the other’s head off as soon as the bell had rang to begin the match earlier and even as the match neared to the middle, they were still trying to knock each other’s heads over their necks. Genevie wanted to show Artemis who the Queen was in this match and the way she manhandled Artemis, she wanted to show her that she could easily make her bend in order to make her bow and understand that Genevie was better than her. But the God of Anger had other things in mind and up her sleeves as well as she kicks at Genevie’s foot and then uses that same foot to try to clip Genevie once she shoves her away and tries to run for the ropes. Genevie stumbles slightly from the attempted tripping and gets Artemis back by making her eat punches to the face like a thanksgiving feast being consumed before going for an Alabama slam. But Artemis showed that it takes much more not only to put her down but to keep her down as well as she raises from the mat, her eyes twinkling tauntingly for Genevie to come just a tad bit closer.

But Genevie wasnt on Artemis’s sneaky shit nor did she trust her, which I mean shit who actually trusts their opponents, as Genevie bossed up on Artemis and scooped her up so quickly into a slam that Artemis thought she was about to be dropped right on her head until her back hit the mat. Artemis is back onto her feet but then right back on the mat once Genevie hurriedly grabs her up for another slam and drops her back down onto the mat. She then proudly begins to flex her muscles as she gets some boos but mostly loud cat calls and yells from the men that spend all of their nights jacking off in their beds underneath giant sized posters of her. But Artemis vowed silently to herself to make Genevie scream louder than these cat call that she was receiving as Artemis begin rising but moved slowly as Genevie got closer and then thats when Artemis sprung up from the mat with a swift uppercut that had Genevie’s head thrown back.

The uppercut sends Genevie stumbling back and Artemis wastes no time as she takes every step forward that Genevie takes backwards before finally pouncing at her prey. She delivers a stinging stockton slap to Genevie and Genevie’s facial reactions to the hard slap range from shock to finally settling on pissed off as she grabs a fistful of Artemis’ hair to yank her forward and then pull her head down while Genevie raises her knee to connect with Artemis’ face. She does this several times before shoving Artemis down on the mat as if she’s dirt and even dusts her hands over Artemis as if Artemis had just gotten dirt on the clean hands of Genevie. Artemis is back onto her feet and the two have a good go at one another, trading punches back and forth as if they were trying to beat the clock to see who ended up with the most punches at the end until Genevie catches Artemis off guard with a roundhouse kick out of nowhere.

Artemis finds herself back on the mat again but she decides thats the last time she’s going to end up like that on the mat tonight as she doesnt even gear up to go at Genevie, she just attacks as she lunges at Genevie and Genevie ends up on her back with Artemis on top who wastes no times raining blows down at Genevie’s face. Artemis gets a good couple of hits in before Genevie is able to raise her arms and use them as a shield to cover her face from Artemis’ fists aimed at her face. Seeing that she wasn’t going to get anymore hits in at the intended target, Artemis lets up and raises up from Genevie to step away swiftly so that Genevie didnt pull any sudden or surprise attacks on her. But as soon as Genevie is back onto her feet, its on and popping as the two collide and spent the next six minutes beating the brakes off of one another until Artemis was able to get the upper and used it to her advantage to quickly go for Cure of Insomnia and then the pin afterwards for the three with Genevie kicking out a second too late.

WINNER: Artemis Kaiser via Pinfall (8:59)

The camera cuts backstage to James Shark walking down the hall. He’s wearing one of his shirts made by XCVIII Apparel along with some black baggy sweatpants. He has a pair of beats headset around his neck with a rap beat blaring through them. He nods his head to the rhythm and begins to rap along to it while munching on some chow mein from a takeout box.

SHARK: “Lames get out the way, it’s four corner James, no he cannot be tamed, addicted to makin’ it rain, all the money give you pai-”

Suddenly he stops in his tracks and slowly turns his head to his left side. He smirks then slowly looks back at the camera and motions for the camera to turn it’s focus to what he had just saw. As the camera slowly turns, Kimitsu Zombie could be seen with her back facing both James and the cameraman. She seems to be mingling with something in her hand, she then grabs a box and now begins to put something inside of it.

SHARK: “Kimitsuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu babbbbbbbbbbbbieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”

James says in an excited yet perverted tone, his voice squeaking and getting high pitched at the end. Kimitsu gives him a bemused look, but then continues ignoring him while she finishes preparing the decorated box.

SHARK: “I was hopin’ I’d find you back here. What’s in the box Yoyo? You find a poor kitten and you tryna cook it for later? Goddamn. Look at yo legs girl. You mean to tell me all the protein you be gettin’ from these cats and dogs and your legs still out here lookin’ like the chopsticks in my hand? That’s TOUGH. Yo, nah, Kimmy for real though, you need to be givin’ me the recipe for these noodles my baby. Every last bite givin’ me taste buds that activating my erection. Yo look it.”

James uses his chopsticks to pull a noodle out of the takeout box. He then carefully guides the noodle over Kimitsu’s shoulders while her back is still turned and she is still fiddling with the box. Kimitsu turns her head slightly to eat the noodle. James nods and slowly moves at her thinking it’s on. She then turns around and spits it out to the side. She stops an advancing Shark by putting the box in between them, and opening it up.

ZOMBIE: “Those noodles aren’t authentic so calm down. Anyways, I saw that it was your birthday last week so I figured I’d get you something nice. I had this made specially for you. I know your friends probably got you some rich bullshit presents to add to your vast rich douchebag collection so this is something from the heart to show you that I understand what you are going through. Also this is a bit of a welcoming gift from me to you.”

SHARK: “Say you swear to God!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The box contains a big gold chain coiled in a circle around two small objects in the middle. She takes it out of the box and shows Shark what it is before carefully putting it around his neck. It was a bit of a challenge because James was so excited he couldn’t stand still. Kimitsu adjusts the chain to have the medallions fall right on his chest. She slightly pushes him back and taps on his chest to admire the look.

James quickly looks down and grabs the chain, pulling it up along with the medallions to get a good look. His smile covers his face from ear to ear and he begins to jump up and down a little bit.

SHARK: “Gold chain with boxing gloves on em!?!?! Aweeee Kimmy soup, you shouldn’t have, oh my God. Yo. You literally like the only person here that’s been given me something for my birthday. I kinda feel bad I gotta do you dirty in that ring now. Damn. Business be business though right? Come here baby.”

James steps closer to her and puts his hands out to give her a hug but she stops him by sticking her hand out.

ZOMBIE: “Yeah those are real nice, right? All nice, gold, and shiny. Look closer, though. What kind of gloves have you seen that got veins on ‘em. Those aren’t boxing gloves. That time has passed you by. Those are your balls, Shark. I figured you can wear them around your neck since I’m about to make them go pop tonight in our match. When was the last time you’ve faced a woman? I’m going to emasculate you in that ring one, and then give you a Ballsplex to finish the job. That’s a little token to remember them by.”

James blinks.

SHARK: “Say you… Swear to God.”

He says, this time in a much different tone he did than last time. He slowly looks at the chain and medallions again, looking at them very closely. His hands start to shake and his face makes a frown. He then quickly removes the necklace and throws it into his takeout box before crumpling it up and tossing it behind him while glaring at Kimitsu.

SHARK: “First of all, my nuts a lot bigger than that you chinky, cross-eyed, little fuck. Not all balls is that small you know, but how would you know any different!? Bein’ stuck gettin’ raped by all those tiny dick Asian men and now stuck with that white boy Thomas, resulting to suckin’ on his toes because those are bigger than what he’s packin’. Fuck you. Just fuck you.”

He points at her face.

SHARK: “I’m gon’ BEAT yo’ ass tonight. Emasculate me. Ha! More like Ejaculate me after I- “

Kimitsu grabs his finger and holds on to it. She looks right into his eyes.

ZOMBIE: “This is your problem. You let your little prick do your thinking and you don’t stop before you talk or act. That’s what leads to all the embarrassment. That’s what got you arrested. I thought you had enough of that shit, but I guess not. Well it’s too late to learn it now at this age, right? You’re always going to be shooting off prematurely. You said before that you are going to do me dirty tonight, well you earned something too just now. I reached my fucking limit with people making their assumptions about me. You’ve earned yet another beatdown in a 4CW ring. It won’t be like the others. This one is going to have my little personal stamp of ‘fuck you’ on it. Your nuts aren’t going to be the only thing hurting after this. Like I said before I’m after something bigger, and that’s your pride.”

Throughout Kimitsu’s intense speech James had a mix of different emotions on his face. He started off shocked and surprised, then angry, then finally, looking even a bit intimidated as he swallows hard at the end of her sentence. Despite his obvious reactions on his face, he tries to hide how he feels with his words.

SHARK: “You uh…”

He looks at Kimitsu’s hand wrapped around his finger.

SHARK: “Might wanna let go of my finger G, you dunno where it’s been. You can give it a lil whiff if you wanna though.”

ZOMBIE: “I already told you ‘homie.’ People like us are used to living in the muck.”

Kimitsu adjusts her grip on the finger, and Shark smiles with the caress. Then she stares at him as she bends it back and to the side trying to get it as close to the back of his palm as possible. Suddenly he lets out a loud and squeaky cry of pain as he jumps up and down while she holds onto his finger before he quickly pulls away from her, wincing in pain and glaring at her as he rubs his finger.

SHARK: “That’s fuckin illegal. The hell. Crazy ass kung fu bitch.”

Kimitsu grins and sticks her tongue out at him mischievously.

ZOMBIE: “It’ll be thirty punches for you later on tonight. Maybe that’s how I’ll end you… Old ass…”

Kimitsu walks past him while fixing him with a death glare and a smirk. She kicks the chain on the floor at him before turning around and leaving.

SHARK: “Stick that tongue out at me next time and I’m suckin’ on it….lil bitch.”

He mumbles, watching her walk away with an angry stare. He feels as though she got the last laugh right now and it kills him inside. Instead of waiting for their match he quickly bends over and picks up one of his chopsticks in frustration and childishly throws it at her. The camera pans over and catches the chopstick fly right past Kimitsu and hit a staff member in the eye. The staff member drops on his ass and grabs his eye in pain as it looks like the chopstick is stuck in there. He screams out from the top of his lungs and James Shark jumps in shock. He then quickly turns around and runs away.

The unmistakable drum beats of “Cry Little Sister” play as the lights in the arena drop leaving only red spotlights on the entry way. Emerging from the darkness to be illuminated in the crimson light is first the Speaker slowly follow by the Pride champion, Viduus Morta as the lyrics begin. The men slowly make their way to the ring as the fans begin to light up their cell phones creating little specks of light throughout the arena until Viduus and The Speaker are in the center of the ring. The music dies out quietly as the lights come back on. Viduus assumes a dominant position directly in the center of the ring while The Speaker paces back and forth slightly and slowly with the microphone in his hand.

SPEAKER: “Ladies and gentlemen…”

He stops his pacing as he looks out over the audience who are hushed by their curiosity as to what these two men have to say.

SPEAKER: “AND STILL YOUR 4CW PRIDE CHAMPION…”

The words “and still” barely escaped his mouth before he was met with a loud chorus of boos and the ever odd and sparse smattering of cheers.

SPEAKER: “VIIIIDDUUUUUS MORTAAAAA!!!!”

The smug smile across his face would have drawn boos in itself but these men had something to say and the fans wanted to hear it.

SPEAKER: “Jair Hopkins was handled. Dakota Smith was victimized..TWICE. AQ, the Quag Cup man stood no chance and Andre Holmes simply did not belong. The 4CW champion had a glazed over look in his eyes while losing the title that had been built up into the most prestigious prize in the game. Chris Madison tarnished what the 4CW title had become and now leaves it to Anastasia Hayden, a woman who escaped with the title. To declare this a hand over first victory would be a disservice to that title and to the one true champion in this company…Viduus Morta.”

That’s definitely no way to talk about a fan favorite. A cup of beer was hurled at The Speaker, surely from a middle-aged man who is obsessed with the new 4CW champion.

SPEAKER: “They told us that He would not make it out of the gauntlet. They told us even if he got passed Ales and Andre there was no way Dakota would be put down again and they were dead wrong. The question, however, is what can He do for an encore? Who will be next? Who is fit?”

The Speaker balls up a fist and extends a finger.

SPEAKER: “Bronx Valescence?”

The crowd roars at the mention of his name.

SPEAKER: “Bryan Laughlin?”

Another roar from the crowd as The Speaker put a second finger up keeping count on his hand.

SPEAKER: “Perhaps one of the returning Carlsons? Bryan Williams? Johnny Evil?”

The Speaker smirks a bit.

SPEAKER: “The truth is that it doesn’t matter who is next in line for the Pride title. Whoever it is, wherever they are…they will be weighed, measured, and found still wanting once Viduus hurls them to the back of the line. You all cried out that this man could not WRESTLE with the best. You all shouted that the Pride champion should display the best WRESTLING this company can offer rather than a sideshow freak, extreme wrestler. You all were silenced as Viduus ran the gauntlet, never quit, took everything each man had, and stood victorious in the end.”

The boo birds are out growing louder and louder.

SPEAKER: “Anastasia Hayden should consider herself LUCKY that Viduus is the holder of the Pride Championship due to the title rules here or Viduus Morta would be your next 4CW Champion. Anastasia Hayden should be thank the gods that Viduus Morta will not have the opportunity to capture her title as long he holds the Pride title which is going to be for a very long time. So ladies and gentleman I leave you with this…”

The Speaker stops just behind Viduus allowing the Pride champion to have center stage.

SPEAKER: “While you all will cheer you latest 4CW transitional champion you will boo the greatest Pride champion in the history of this title….I give to you…AND STILL 4CW PRIDE CHAMPION….you will all remember his name….VIDUUUUS MORTAAAAA!!”

Viduus Morta lifts his title high into the air before the lights drop and the two men are gone from the ring when they come back on.

The scene begins with a pair of long legs obviously on edge. The boos come in heavy with them seeing the familiar gear of the black wrestling boots and singlet. The burst color on the boots and singlet a chosen color of a burnt orange. DeMarcus Gresham is seen in full as the camera zooms out getting the full view of the large man. As his legs continue with the uneasy shake he’s leaning back in his folded chair once again a game of chess in front of him. The whole vision of him is in conflict as his lower body obviously shows unease and discomfort. The nerves are working to the very end more than likely to the tips of his toes. Meanwhile, his upper body is calm, relaxed, and collected. A very rare sight for the young man from Seattle especially being one known for being controlled at all times. Then again this isn’t a normal moment in his career. He defeats people…that is what he does. This current contest against one who has has his number, twice now. He isn’t supposed to let it get to him but his knees wouldn’t allow him to lie, he’s bothered. Bothered by the thought that his best wouldn’t be good enough. Bothered by the need to be something more than he’s been. Then again the best comes out of you when the limits are pushed.

GRESHAM: “I sit here and wonder about the term…glass ceiling.”

He looks up as if a glass ceiling is above him and then looks at the chess pieces right in front of him. Picking up a pawn piece that is also glass of the overall glass chess set.

GRESHAM: “Some people believe they come and go in this business. A feat unreachable or a particular foe unbeatable. Some just try their best and…

He shrugs while looking at the pawn piece in hand legs still firing off at will.

GRESHAM: “Come what may. They deal with the consequences but have a peace within themselves because they put in their best efforts.”

Suddenly out of nowhere he launches that same glass pawn piece into the air full force and all you can hear is it making contact against something stronger. The noise of light shattered glass hitting the object and the hardened floor.

GRESHAM: “That, is not a peace I hold.”

He picks up another piece this time a rook. Glass all the same.

GRESHAM: “I did not come here to participate. I did not come here to earn one of those fancy blue ribbons they give to the children of this generation and then wonder how they are not able to deal with disappointment. I am Gifted. There is no other name to align me with. Not to say Finn Whelan is the ceiling I cannot break…not…not precisely.”

He looks above him again still twirling the rook around in his fingers.

GRESHAM: “…This match is almost a deciding factor for me. I’ve worked my mental past capacity. I feel the only way for me to prepare myself physically is to first…”

He points toward his temple with the chess piece.

GRESHAM: “Condition the mind. I’ve never been pushed past my comfort zone. Here I am a very few months in 4CW, pushed…challenged…bothered.”

He looks down at his shaking legs and shakes his own head before launching the rook in the air. Same result. Shattered glass.

GRESHAM: “Finn Whelan is doing more for me now than countless…countless adversaries in my previous companies. I’ve never been so intrigued by one opponent. I’ve never analyzed an opponent as I have him. I’ve…I’ve never quite felt this pressure either when it comes to one opponent. Circumstances can do that but a singular foe? I’ve never really been in this place before. Not by a person. There’s so much power in that. There’s so much yet for me to still learn. He…has done this for me.”

He picks up another piece from the abandoned game, the King.

GRESHAM: “The only way to thank him properly…

Is to take…”

Whoooossshh!! The air catches all of the King piece as he puts more might behind it and the sound once again louder in the distance as the glass shatters. His legs have stopped their shaking his eyes in complete focus.

GRESHAM: “.…properly.”

He rises to his feet leaving the chair and chess game in position walking out of screenshot.

UNDERCARD
NO HOLDS BARRED
JOHNNY EVIL VS. CYRUS RIDDLE

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

“Welcome to the truth

God made me in his image

Who the fuck made you?

You want my voice from me?

You can have it, just know

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

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

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

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

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

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

“I’m the Messiah, the gnashing of teeth

No one meets death until they see me!

I am the Alphaaaaa! And the Omegaaaaa!”

His trademark smirk followed by a tongue glide along his bottom lip can be seen as he looks around the arena and jumps down

The lighting dims in the arena as Blood, Sweat, Dust by Lacuna Coil begins to play through the speakers. Johnny Evil steps out onto the entrance ramp and looks back and forth for a moment before looking down the ramp at Cyrus Riddle. He gives a smirk and then begins walking down the ramp slowly.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, from Detroit Michigan, weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, ‘The American Horror Story’, JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!

Evil gets to the ringside area and starts doing a stroll around the ring, reaching under the apron every so often to throw an assortment of weapons into the ring. Evil then rolls into the ring through the bottom rope and pulls himself to his feet, looking down at the canvas extending his arms outward and locking eyes with Riddle.

DING!!! DING!!!

Tension fills the weapon filled ring faster than Perry Wallace denying he was married to Kaysie Sherell. Evil and Riddle stand face to face with each other, the referee standing by the ropes in anticipation. Both men are wielding chairs brought to the ring by Evil. Nose to nose, Evil slaps Riddle while yelling in his face, causing Cyrus to retaliate with a hard shove and swing of the chair that sees Evil duck, throwing the chair into Riddle’s face to kick off the offense in the match.

Riddle drops his hair and stumbles to the ropes, going down to one knee, but Evil is relentless in his pursuit, blasting Cyrus in his back with the chair again and yelling at him to “let it out.” Riddle ducks another shot before taking a kendo stick and cracking it into Evil’s hamstring until he can’t stand anymore, delivering a DDT to the kneed enemy.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Evil kicks out, shaking his head and laughing at Riddle, telling him he knows what he needs to do. Riddle nods and begins landing punches on Evil before rolling out to the ring, giving Evil time to get to his feet as a table and bag of thumbtacks gets slid into the ring.

Evil encourages the actions, but begins a barrage of punches and kicks to Riddle as he enters the ring, taking a cheese grater to Riddle’s head in search for blood, which begins to trickle from Cyrus’ forehead and down his face. Evil then takes the grater and places it on the downed Cyrus’ face, looking to smash a chair into it, but Riddle proves too quick as he rolls from the ring and takes the leg of his adversary, pulling him out, and whipping him into the ring post.

The taste of his own blood set him off. Cy wipes his face and tastes the blood on his finger before taking a deep breath and smirking. Evil rises from the floor, but is met with a barbed wire necktie retrieved from under the ring, Cyrus yanking back on it while Evil tries to wedge his fingers between to save some cuts.

Riddle uses the leverage and smashes the side of Evil’s face into the post before reaching for the kendo stick from earlier and taking several quick shots to the head of Johnny busting him open to the words “is this what you want”? Stumbling around ringside, Evil cups hid head in pain. He turns back toward Riddle as Riddle swings the kendo stick again, but Evil ducks, causing it to hit against ring post and fly from Riddle’s hand.

Hopping up, Evil dropkicks, Riddle planting both feet against his chest, sending him stumbling into the steel steps and falling over them. Evil steps over Riddle and begins slapping at him, before gripping his hand into Riddle’s beard and pulling him to his feet. Evil begins smashing Riddle’s head against the ring apron, eventually causing Riddle to get fired up, driving a barrage of elbows into Evil’s stomach. As Evil stumbles away, Riddle searches under the ring and pulls out a stop sign cracking it across the back of Evil’s head. Dropping the stop sign to the floor, Riddle turns Evil over and piledrives him onto it. Riddle drops down to make a pin, but stops himself thinking for a moment in a ‘fuck that’ type of manner.

Riddle rolls Evil into the ring and pulls a staple gun from under the ring. Following Evil back inside, he reaches over Evil and shoots a couple staples into Evil’s forehead, causing small amounts of blood to trickle down his forehead. Riddle wipes the blood from his and then reaches down to the mat, grabbing the steel chair and setting it up in sitting position in the center of the ring. Getting crafty, Riddle grabs the thumb tacks and dumps them onto the seat of the chair, causing them to spill and roll all over before bringing Evil back to his feet. Looking for a scoop slam onto the tac filled chair is stopped by Evil digging a thumb into Riddle’s eyes. Evil pushes Riddle into the ropes and upon rebound, Evil connects a drop toe hold, implanting Riddle face first onto the steel chair and thumb tacks. Rolling Riddle onto his back, Evil hooks the leg for a pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Evil reaches down and lifts Riddle to his feet, only to be greeted with a jawbreaker. Evil staggers against the ropes giving Riddle enough time to get to his feet and pull some of the thumb tacks from his body. As Evil comes back in Riddle’s direction, he lifts Evil onto his shoulders and goes for The Purge, only to have Evil kick off and rebound into the ropes. Evil rebounds back toward Riddle and gets caught with a swift kick to the gut before Cyrus locks him in a fisherman suplex and executes The London Bridge, combining it with a pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Evil rolls onto his stomach while Riddle shakes his head in frustration before rolling out of the ring and looking under the apron again. Riddle slides a taser into the ring and then rolls back in with a 2 x 4 and a set of light tubes bound together by razor wire. As Riddle stands up, Evil reaches out and grabs the taser zapping him in the groin, causing Riddle to buckle. Evil lifts him over his head and drills him down with a powerbomb, planting double knees in his back, hitting a Fall From Shangri’ La. As both men roll around in pain, Evil reaches out and drops an arm over Riddle’s stomach.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Riddle kicks out at the last second as Evil rolls onto his back laughing. He sits up for a moment and looks at Riddle before standing up. Evil reaches out and grabs Riddle by his hair, yanking him to his feet only to get blasted right in the mouth by a pair of brass knuckles Riddle had concealed in his trunks. A heavy amount of blood begins trickling from Evil’s mouth as he falls to both knees. Riddle shakes off the brutality of the match and reaches down grabbing a handful of thumb tacks, opening Evil’s mouth with one hand and shoving them in with the other. Picking up the 2 x 4 and light tubes binding, Riddle smirks as he limps forward, locking eyes with Evil following it up with a nod as if to say ‘we just put each other through hell, but this is where the journey ends’. Evil looking directly back at Cyrus gives a somewhat heartwarming nod back followed by a smirk…

CRAAAAAAACCCCCCK!!!

Riddle blasts Evil in the side of the face with the device, sending debris and dust from the light tubes into the air, causing Evil to spray thumb tacks out of his mouth. Pulling the razor wire from Evil’s face, Evil falls to the mat as Riddle drops down and hooks his leg for a pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

Riddle’s hand is raised as he rolls over and lays his back on Evil, wincing from the pain of the night’s destruction, but nodding all the same as he looks to Evil and smiles. After a few resting moments, he makes his way out of the ring, slightly limping to the back and holding up his two finger salute before disappearing.

WINNER: Cyrus Riddle via Pinfall (11:29)

Shimmering silver sits on the shoulder of Finn Whelan as he leans lackadaisically against a stone wall behind the arena. He’s got one foot propped up against the wall, and against his ear, his cell as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. He inhales slowly through his nose, and then clears his throat. After a second, his eyes roll petulantly, and he looks up at the sky.

WHELAN: “What do you mean, ‘Not a good idea’?”

Silence for a few seconds as he listens again — the only voice audible from the cell sounds vaguely female, but it’s nondescript and honestly could be anyone.

WHELAN: “Yes, I know. But that’s what happens when you–“

He’s cut off, and again, he shakes his head.

WHELAN: “Look, I get it. I do. But this is an opportunity that you and I both know that we shouldn’t pass up. Sure, there’s a shit ton of good competitors, but this is a solid way to get both of us exposure, and fuckitall knows we need it after that shithole.”

He clears his throat again, glancing upwards as a stagehand walks in front of him, ignoring him as much as he can and avoiding eye contact with the Ignition Champion.

WHELAN: “Yeah, he could be a person we’d have to face, but wouldn’t you like an opportunity to kick him in the balls? I know, you’re trying to be the bigger person here, but you and I both know that deep down, you’re dying for that chance. Just once. Think about it, will you?”

A snicker falls from his lips as he listens one more time. His eyes float upwards, to the camera that he has obviously felt it’s presence by this point.

WHELAN: “‘Am I ready’? Of course, I’m ready. I’m always ready. It’s blatantly obvious that Gresham wants to make those two losses not count what-so-ever anymore by defeating me when it really matters, but that’s the thing . . . holding this championship means one thing: there’s an opportunity for greater. Nah, I’m not saying that I don’t want it, because that’s not true. I’m a 4CW Champion, and that means a shit-ton when you look at it on paper. But you know how this goes for me. I gain one, I want more. Maybe I’m looking ahead, maybe I’m envisioning what I could have, but for now . . . for me, it’s not about this championship. It’s about continuing a streak. It’s not about being better, or stronger, or simply keeping a championship. It’s proving to this company — nah, the whole fuckin’ sport — that I am one of the best to come out of the woodwork. It’s not a fluke. It’s determination. And it doesn’t end here, it doesn’t end tonight, and it won’t end next week or the week after.”

He laughs.

WHELAN: “If he puts me down? Congrats. But I know there’s a way up from there. You know it, I know it. We are Octane’s brightest embers, so to speak. A plethora of light in an otherwise dismal display. I have no regrets if I lose tonight because it only gets better on the other side. But you know me: 24/7, all-in. Never back down. Never surrender. Be relentless. Get the job done.”

Finn listens for a couple of seconds, before that snicker and the laughter that sits on his face turns to a smirk. A signature trait for the Seattle Saint.

WHELAN: “Never forget who you are, and never lose sight of who you were.”

He pushes himself off the wall before opening the door that he stood near and let it slam shut behind him, the sound echoing loudly before the scene fades out to black.

UNDERCARD
JAMES SHARK VS. KIMITSU ZOMBIE

James is of course doing alot of trash talking especially after Kimitsu had gotten the better of him during the first half of the match at times with alot of counters that had ended up seriously irritating James. He ended up faking her out with his right, only to land a solid blow to the side of the head with his left fist and then doubled up with a right swing that connected successfully and had him feeling good. ‘Shit happens, my baby’, was James’ only response for it followed by a shrug before he stepped forward to swing some more but the speedy Kimitsu dipped and dodged those punches coming her way but then leaving herself wide open to the point that James grabbed her by the arm to irish whip her towards the ropes. James was feeling pretty good right now and on top of the world, but what he didnt know was that he had played right into Kimitsu’s hand with thinking she was so off her game, he was able to easily break through her defenses and sends her to the ropes. But thats what Kimitsu wanted him to do and showed it by flying into the air after bouncing from the ropes and running back with a headscissors takedown that she hoped dizzied the hell out of James.

James didnt have time to be dramatic or overreact while getting up from the mat with knowing he had been plenty, he decided to show Kimitsu why he was the best and pushed himself off the mat to go toe to toe with her. Kimitsu was more focused on taking him down as she attempted a dragon screw until James put a stop to that, wanting to stick to what he knew best at the moment and that was trying to split her wig with throwing those powerful hands of his that he knew he could use as an effective weapon. Kimitsu tried her best to evade but the way James’ footwork was and the fact he wasn’t using a steady pattern of how he was throwing his punches, it became a bit difficult to see which fist would come her way so she begin to step back out of the danger zone to put space between them instead of allowing James to be up so close to her so that he could easily throw her off and take advantage with landing too many blows.

James was playing to his strengths so it was time for Kimitsu to play to hers as she takes a few steps back, which causes James to not swing so much since she wasn’t that close anymore with his punches losing his flair and it helped Kimitsu to dash forward for an attack that wouldnt have been as effective if James had still been on his war ready swinging approach. Kimitsu takes James down with a flying lariat and is back on her feet in no time while the aggravation appears on James’ face because he usually talks so much shit beforehand and leading up to matches that he feels he has to do more than just back up the talk but that he has to walk the walk to the end victoriously. It doesnt matter if he performed best to his abilities or flat out beat ass in the ring, what good was that if he still walked away with the L at the end of the night from his opponent getting the better of him?

James wasnt going and he shook his head a bit to get back focused and to get his head into the game as Kimitsu greets him with a kick in the face and then maneuvers around to perform a back drop on him. James realizes that Kimitsu wasnt really that much into brawling during this match and noticed she stuck mostly to trying to use her speed and any advantages that she could to take him down so he goes back to trying to throw punches to engage with her and bait her into a fist fight. He knew Kimitsu could throw down but he felt that between the two of them and with him being more skilled in the art of brawling, or well with his ego telling him that he was, he wanted to try to throw Kimitsu off her game again so he trash talked and threw his fists at her rapidly to the point she had no choice but to side step and try to avoid the best she could.

Kimitsu really didnt want to brawl though, she knew she could beat his ass with using her wrestling moves against him but James wasnt going and was stuck in his stance of having a fist fight, which irritated her to no end because no matter how she came at him and even attempted to go for a few side takedowns out of the way of not getting rocked by one of his punches, he wasnt abandoning his wanting of swinging his fists and wasnt interested in fighting Kimitsu any other way at this point. So coupled up with the building frustration in her, Kimitsu begin to throw her own punches and landed some pretty good ones that had James stumped for a moment and wondering if he should change up strategy now but he kept at it. He finally seems to abandon the fist fight as he clocks Kimitsu with two good blows to the face before seemingly stepping off out of nowhere…. until he comes rushing forward and jumps into the air just as fast as he had took off to land that right powerful punch that connects with a victorious Swag Out. Kimitsu goes down and James is on her like white on rice with the pin as the referee’s hand hits the mat three times to grant the bell to ring to end the match.

WINNER: James Shark via Pinfall (9:23)

Coming off a series of amazing matches from the under-card, the transition into the locker room area changes the mood from the action oriented atmospherics to a more quiet and calm setting. A man is seen hopping up and down in front of the wooden lockers with a leather black hoodie covering the top of his head. As the camera zooms out, the word ‘Relentless’ is printed on it’s back before Andre Holmes spins around on his feet fully facing the camera with a smirk. That confident smile spawning cheek to cheek showing off his pearly whites but the fire in his hazel eyes catches the audience’s attention.

HOLMES: ”Well, well, well. We all knew this match would happen sooner or late and honestly, what a perfect time. The bounce back match in the new year of 4CW now that Ante Up has come to an official closing of another chapter for the promotion. Now, we don’t start off a new chapter with a boring match. No, no, no. The viewers have to be locked in all the way and quite frankly, Andre Holmes versus Alessandro Quagliatierre was the perfect title to begin with. It’s quite interesting that the most confident man being Alessandro faces off against the most relentless but in this story, confidence can only get you so far in the race kiddo.”

He tightens the straps of his MMA gloves on each hand in front of the camera. Andre sighs and shakes his head.

HOLMES: ”It’s not a game anymore Alessandro. This isn’t your tournament to hide behind nor your match to consume. This is the victory you’ll want but unfortunately, can’t ever have. See, we’re two different worlds. You come from a world of fortune, glamour, fame and pettiness. I come from a world of pain, suffering, determination and torture. What I do in the ring is nothing compared to what you do and that’s exactly why you’re going to lose.”

HOLMES: ”You don’t have what it takes to beat me nor you’ll ever have the chance too. Tonight is my night and I’m putting down Mr. Quaggy boy for good. See you out there oh, and one my thing, hashtag Quag Cup”

Andre pushes the camera away and the scene ends with him leaving the locker room.

UNDERCARD
ANDRE HOLMES VS. ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE

Alessandro Quagliaterre squared up with Andre Holmes deep into the most premier wrestling organization in the world’s Showtime broadcast on Wednesday night. Vassa was on one of his trademark tears, drunkenly rambling about how AQ’s wife, Phoenix, was exceptionally hot even despite the fact that she was unfortunately foreheaded- information that would seem irrelevant, had it not taken up so much aud air time and had I not wanted to take this opportunity to put someone down to make me feel better about me. Anyway, inside the ring, the performances of the two athletes left nothing to be desired. Immediately after the bell rang, AQ swiftly advanced toward Holmes and took early control, connecting with a Lou Thesz Press, before delivering the subsequent beating that typically accompanies the maneuver.

Quagliaterre continued his display of dominance by allowing Holmes to get up, just so that he could deliver a powerful, low bicycle kick to Holmes’ clavicle, which sent the scrappy Texan flying into an unwelcoming turnbuckle that sent him away, stumbling right back toward Alessandro. Capitalizing on his terrific weight advantage and on his opponent’s friendly momentum, Quagliaterre sent Holmes careening through the air- almost all the way across the ring- via an overhead belly to belly suplex. With this barrage of early offense connecting seamlessly, AQ brashly felt as if he had his opponent right where he wanted him. So, subsequently, he started striking himself in the head, signaling a VERY early attempt at his trademark Zidane headbutt.

The crowd modeled mixed emotion about the transpired events. Ironically, Holmes began tapping his own temple as he went about regaining his footing, scolding himself a bit for his poor start. Looking to make a statement that would erase his loss at Ante Up from the minds of the 4CW faithful, Alessandro charged his now firmly braced opponent- who used his superior agility and speed to roll out of harm’s way. From the mat, Andre quickly found his footing and faced a frustrated, yet focused and approaching Alessandro Quagliaterre. Holmes then swiftly and nimbly took control of the match for the first time that evening with a step-up enziguri that connected with the Quag Cup proprietor’s neck, eliciting a cringe-inducing *THWUP*!

Holmes went to work on Quag’s neck. Alessandro showed himself to be a great deal tougher than a lot of folks give him credit for. He survived a minute and ten second application of a cobra clutch, as Holmes could not quite cinch it in well enough to completely cut off the air supply before he was able to find his footing and carry the relatively diminutive Holmes on his back until he could thrust the man of a thousand and four moves (seriously, check out Holmes’ bio…there is no situation in the ring, at home, in traffic, NO occasion for which he is not prepared) into the turnbuckles. This only gave him a momentary break, during which he fell to his knees, clutching his neck. Andre capitalized by hastily scurrying up to the top rope in order to deliver a Ghetto Stomp (double foot stomp) that BARELY misses AQ’s head and neck, the entirety of his body weight landing on Quagliaterre’s right shoulder, driving it HARD into the mat.

After a couple more shots to the head and neck region, Holmes experienced a bevy of unsuccessful pin attempts. He could not keep Ales down. Andre slams his hands down on the mat and emits a loud primal scream. With intentions of ending this match NOW, Holmes marched over to his kneeling opponent and reached for his head, only to be hit with a HARD right hand to his midsection (questionably low), stunning Holmes for a moment, sending him stumbling back to the center of the ring . Digging deep, Alessandro rushes forward and dives through the air, connecting with a DEVASTATING lariat that still sent the relatively stationary Holmes on a ride, flipping him in the air once before he made impact with the mat. Quagliaterre grabs at his neck and right shoulder for a couple of moments before he goes for an unsuccessful pin.

Quagliaterre has clearly been in control. Irish whip on Holmes, who bounces off of the ropes, just to be met with a flying elbow. Victory is within Quagliaterre’s grasp, he can feel it. After a couple of quick laps around an invisible track, AQ punches the side of his head twice before letting out a gutterul bellow and making a break for a recovering Andre Holmes, who had just reached his feet. This time, he is successful in his attempt to hit the Zidane Headbutt. The maneuver knocks Holmes backward into the turnbuckle, where he resides relatively limp until AQ attempts to put him down for good. Without wasting too much time, Quagliaterre hoists Holmes on his shoulders, ready to put Holmes down with his Bedtime finisher- but, his neck/shoulder cannot bear the load! Holmes slides off of Alessandro’s shoulders, ducks, grasps Quagliaterre by the arm and leg and slides him onto his own shoulders, before executing a Death Valley Driver onto his knee, hitting a Holmes on the Range RIGHT ON QUAGLIATERRE’S AILING NECK! Holmes goes for the pin and succeeds.

WINNER: Andre Holmes via Pinfall (9:58)

UNDERCARD
IGNITION CHAMPIONSHIP
DEMARCUS GRESHAM VS. FINN WHELAN ©

And they meet again, this time with the Ignition Championship on the line and no one else involved to get in their way. These two were quite familiar with one another, not hesitating one bit before jumping straight into the action. As seen before since his 4CW debut, Gresham used his size and strength to take charge, gaining leverage over his opponent in the early seconds of the match. Driving Finn backwards across the ring, Gresham slammed him into the corner before pinning him against it and firing with rapid knee shots to Finn’s stomach. Ripping Finn away from the corner, Gresham lifted him off his feet before pressing him high above his head and tossing him back to the center of the ring to crash against the canvas on his back. Finn didn’t stay down for long, but he didn’t remain on his feet for long either before Gresham charged in, nearly taking Finn’s head off with a vicious clothesline that flipped Finn in the air before falling face down to the mat. Climbing over Finn’s back, Gresham slammed two forearms to the back of his head before popping back up to his feet and rushing towards the ropes. Upon his return, he leaped forward, coming down onto the back of Finn’s head with a leg drop, smashing his face even more into the canvas.

Gresham wasn’t holding anything back as he continued his ferocious assault on Finn with power attacks, keeping him either off his feet or locked in his arms before being driven into the mat. Whipping Finn to the ropes, Gresham exploded towards him as he came back on the rebound. Lowering his shoulder, Gresham had plans to wipe him out completely with a spear but Finn thought otherwise. Leaping as high into the air as he could, Finn barely cleared Gresham as he went to the mat empty handed. It was like Finn was floating in mid air and by the time he landed to his feet, Gresham had already began pushing himself back to his feet. Quite aware of his position in the ring, Finn waited for just a moment as Gresham finally stood and as Gresham began to turn to face him, Finn flipped backwards through the air and connected with a pele kick to Gresham’s head. Stumbling backwards, Gresham was off balance and after hitting the ropes, Finn was already back to his feet and in position for Gresham’s return. Taking a few small sliding steps forward, Finn connected with a superkick! Gresham’s legs went out from under him as he dropped to the mat in a seated position. Turning to the ropes, Finn too off as quickly as he could and as he came back with even more speed, he slid to the mat and slammed a forearm to Gresham’s face, knocking him flat on his back.

Climbing on top of Gresham and mounting himself into position, Finn rained down onto Gresham’s head with rapid fire elbow strikes to the face. After connecting with nearly a dozen, he stood to his feet and pulled Gresham to his. Locked onto Gresham’s wrist, Finn pulled him in and put him back down with a short-arm clothesline. Still gripping tightly on Gresham’s wrist, Finn pulled him back to his feet and into another short-arm clothesline. Ducking at the last possible second, Gresham stepped in behind Finn, pulling Finn’s arm around his own body before slipping it from Finn’s grip. Wrapping both arms around Finn’s waist, Gresham lifted him off his feet and dropped him on his head with a German suplex. Gresham was slow to get back to his feet, but still standing long before the thought of rising up had even crossed Finn’s mind. Pulling Finn up from the mat, Gresham held him in place with one hand as he fired away with back to back punches from the other. Pulling Finn’s head down and locking an arm around it, Gresham immediately hooked one of Finn’s legs before dropping him to the mat with a fisherman neckbreaker.

Having met Finn in the ring before, Gresham knew he was quick on his feet and knowing this, he wasn’t giving Finn the opportunity to slip away from him. Keeping him close at all times, Gresham used his power to his advantage once again, slamming Finn around the ring like a ragdoll and always keeping him within arms length. Dropping Finn to the mat with a back suplex side slam, Gresham popped up to his feet and went for the ropes. Coming back with thunderous steps, he leaped through the air, landing across Finn’s body with a splash that shook the entire ring. Hooking a leg, Gresham pointed to the official who was already in motion to the mat with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Popping a shoulder up from the mat, Finn escaped the pinfall just before a full two count. Propping himself up with one arm, Gresham swung down with his other arm, connecting with a fierce forearm shot to Finn’s face. Standing to his feet, Gresham paced the ring for a short moment before moving back in and pulling Finn up from the mat. Swatting Gresham’s arms away, Finn ducked down and stepped behind him, grabbing ahold of Gresham from behind and pulling him down to the mat with a quick rollup.

ONE

.

.

Kicking out with raw power, Gresham lifted Finn off his feet and knocked him backwards through the air. Unfortunately for him, Finn landed on his feet and by the time Gresham had rolled over and pushed himself up to one knee, Finn was already closing in from behind. Grabbing Gresham by the back of the head, Finn assisted him to his feet while still trucking forward but just as Gresham rose, he went back down as Finn planted him face first to the mat with a bulldog. Although he was groggy, Gresham was already pushing himself back up to his feet. Leaping to the nearby ropes, Finn springboarded off and rotated his body through the air just in time to greet Gresham as he stood with a drop kick to the chest. Falling backwards, Gresham crashed into the corner, his arms draped over the top ropes at each side. Rushing in before Gresham could shake it off, Finn began firing at will with rapid knife edge chops to Gresham’s chest. Each stinging slap was louder than the one prior. Climbing up to the middle rope over Gresham, Finn held his head in place before hammering down with multiple right hands to Gresham’s head as the crowd counted along with each one connected.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five! … Six! … Sev–“

Wrapping both arms around Finn’s legs, Gresham lifted him up into the air before stepping away from the corner and heading towards the center of the ring. Leaning his body over top of Gresham, Finn pulled himself away from Gresham’s hold before locking an arm around Gresham’s throat and dropping to his feet behind him. Out of nowhere Finn had Gresham locked in a standing sleeper hold, choking the life out of him. Gresham fought to pull himself away from Finn but it appeared to be useless and as the second passed by, Gresham’s fight began to slow down. Locking both hands around Finn’s forward, Gresham then began pumping his feet, driving Finn backwards across the ring until eventually slamming Finn into the corner and sandwiching him against it. Finn still had the sleeper somewhat in tact but as Gresham then stepped forward, he pulled Finn over his shoulder as he leaned forward, pulling him off his back and slamming him to the mat. Jumping into the air, Gresham went for another leg drop but landed on nothing but canvas as Finn rolled out of the way. The two raced to their feet, Gresham a lot slower than Finn. Charging towards Gresham just as he stood, Finn went for a clothesline but missed as Gresham ducked underneath it. Continuing in stride, Finn hit the opposite ropes and came back with another clothesline, missing yet again as Gresham dodged a bullet. Finn was still running forward, hitting the ropes a third time and as he came back towards Gresham, he went for a third clothesline. Ducking the clothesline, Gresham wrapped an arm around Finn and lifted him into the air before throwing him to the mat with The Enlightenment (spinning side slam)! Finn’s arms were stretched out to his sides as Gresham covered his lifeless body for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

WINNER: DeMarcus Gresham via Pinfall (12:47)

? ? ?: ”I know what you’re thinking…”

We hear his voice before we actually see him, the camera cutting to the backstage area. Normally this would be a set up, something simple like an interview. Maybe the interview was handled by somebody homeless, somebody that everyone sees all too often during an Adrenaline show.

Not this time.

No, the camera finally pans over, revealing Bryan Williams as he prepares himself for his upcoming match. Dressed in his ring gear, Bryan looks to be warming up for the upcoming contest.

WILLIAMS: ”You’re expecting the same boring promo that everyone who returns always says. The same drivel we always see, from the same people who end up losing three in a row before quitting.”

Bryan sighs, as he continues to stretch.

WILLIAMS: ”I’ve already had my big return before, so I guess I can skip all of that. I had my time to talk about coming back, my chance to tell everyone how excited I was to be fighting everyone again. All of those lines you always hear, the same bullshit said over time and time again.”

Bryan finishes, with a sigh. He leans against the wall, as he continues to speak.

WILLIAMS: ”There’s nothing different about this time, my break was necessary but I was always going to return. I was always going to come back, and be standing right here in front of this camera. Despite all of the places I’ve been, and the companies I’ve wrestled for, 4CW always ends up being my first priority. So, I took some time away. I did what I needed to do for myself, and now I’m back.”

Bryan smiles, as he looks into the camera.

WILLIAMS: ”I’m here for all of you that still care. Those that are still interested to see me. For everyone else, you’ll be watching. You’ll want to see me fall, and get knocked down. I’m going to show you something else though, I’m going to make you all watch me rise to the top. Brick by brick I will build my legacy in this company again, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

Bryan seems relaxed, ready for his upcoming match tonight. He pauses for a moment, looking into the camera.

WILLIAMS: ”Tonight is just the start, a fitting beginning for a return. Two men who stepped away, have now found themselves back in the same ring together. This time, we’ll be across the ring from one another. I don’t need to stand here and tell you why I’ll beat him. I don’t need to try and convince you, or myself, that it’s going to happen. I’m just going to shut up now, and I’m going to go and show you all.”

Bryan winks, as he pushes himself away from the wall. Turning to the camera, he has one last thing to say before he heads off.

WILLIAMS: ”Enjoy the show.”

With that, he walks off. Away from the camera, and out of the scene.

We cut over to something else, I don’t care what.

Returning from the back, the lights in the arena dim a touch as “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep begins to play and the fans start to rev up as that can only mean one thing. The song plays on for a bit longer until Anastasia Hayden, dressed in jeans and a To The Wolves t-shirt, walks out from the curtains, holding the 4CW Championship in her right hand by its strap. She takes a moment at the top of the stage to absorb the atmosphere. Anastasia receives a mixed reaction; nothing out of the ordinary, but as soon as she lifts the 4CW Championship, the arena pops for her.

She smirks a bit as she puts the 4CW Championship up on her shoulder and begins making her way down to the ring. Immediately back to ignoring the crowd, Anastasia walks down the ramp to the ring and slides the championship into the ring before hopping up on the apron facing the camera. Standing center stage on the apron, Anastasia holds up her index finger; her signature pose and now a reminder of Ante Up. Ana holds steady for a moment before climbing into the ring and picking her 4CW Championship right back up; placing it on her shoulder once more.

A crew member hands Anastasia a microphone and she waits for the crowd to simmer down to speak.

HAYDEN: ”This isn’t usually my scene, but here I stand. The 4CW Champion. Over a year ago, I was wrestling on the pre-show, watching from the back as Bronx Valescence came out here to celebrate his first reign as the 4CW Champion. He spoke with such emotion, he spoke about how much you meant to him, he spoke about how much the 4CW Championship meant to him…and I guess it’s my turn, right?”

Anastasia smirks again and softly shakes her head; looking at the championship on her shoulder for a moment.

HAYDEN: ”I’ll admit it…there’s something satisfying about making this moment a reality. Everyone talked about me chasing a ghost I’d never capture for so long that I almost started to believe it, but that’s why they’re all in the back and I’m standing here the 4CW Champion! I’m almost touched that everyone had such a vested interest in me, but I’m not one to tuck my tail and run when things don’t go my way. Everyone else can leave and make their triumphant return speeches, but during that time?”

She looks around for a moment; creating some pause before looking right back into the camera with a cold glare.

HAYDEN: ”I’ll still be standing here. I’m not going to ever step through those curtains and namedrop a few wrestlers more interesting than me just to get a reaction. When my time in 4CW is up? Then it’s up. There won’t be a comeback tour. And with the 4CW Championship on my shoulder, I don’t foresee that exit happening anytime soon. I worked too damn hard for this, earned every opportunity I got, and all of that paid off. I beat some of the best in the world and now I’m standing on top of it.”

A confident nod from Anastasia as she gets a pop from the crowd, but it doesn’t affect her as she carries on.

HAYDEN: ”I made my history, but I’m only getting started. I put an end to one of the most pathetic runs in 4CW…so you can thank me later as I usher in this new era in 4CW. It doesn’t matter if this reign lasts five minutes or five years because I’m leaving a lasting impact in 4CW regardless. Arrogant? Sure. But tell me I’m wrong to my face. You know where to find me.”

Her arrogant smirk returns and she pats the faceplate of the 4CW Championship.

HAYDEN: ”And when you do find me, if you muster up the courage to call me out, to challenge for my 4CW Championship? Oh, I’ll be ready. I’m always ready. As far as I’m concerned, everyone in the back has a lot of catching up to do. For me, nothing changes; just ten pounds heavier with a target on my back, but I’m not sweating it. My drive, my hustle, my passion…it’s still here. I’ve proven that I can go the distance to achieve what I want…I’ve got the week off, but I’m still miles ahead, so to everyone standing idly in the back who wants to prove me wrong?”

Anastasia takes the 4CW Championship off from her shoulder and lays it down in front of her. She taps the top of her wrist and looks directly into the camera once more with a grin.

HAYDEN: ”The clock starts now.”

More pause from Anastasia before she leans over to collect her 4CW Championship and holds it up one more time for another pop from the fans. She keeps the championship held up high as “Shook Ones (Part II)” plays again and the camera fades elsewhere.

A hand extends from behind the camera and reaches for a doorknob that has the words “ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK” written on a blank white sheet of paper and taped crooked on it. As the door opens the lights flicker on and off inside of a locker room dressing area. A loud sound of what can only be described as thunder rolls through the room as well. On a straight path the camera manages it’s way through the room, catching the word “MURDER” written on the wall in a red liquid that seems fresh enough to drip. Continuing we seeing a bathroom door ajar and look inside. There stands Bryan Laughlin with one hand on the light switch and a banging a cookie sheet off his knee with the other hand.

With a cheeky smile he drops the cookie sheet and slows the flickering of the lights to a stop leaving the lights on.

LAUGHLIN: ”Not everything is as it appears. People, myself included, they use sounds and movie tricks with imagery to trigger your senses. It’s supposed to make you feel something. But after too many times of watching a scary movie can you only start to roll your eyes at the monster. That’s what all these people here tonight get to do, Dakota. They’re all finally sick of the movie monster bullshit. Lurking the halls like you’re a killer, bitch you’re just like me. The only difference is I come with substance. There’s a plot to my thriller movie. I don’t have to use tricks for filler, you’ve been relying on them your whole career.”

Bryan sprints across the room and jumps on the couch where there’s a mannequin next to him that he pulls over his body before smiling and giving two thumbs up.

LAUGHLIN: ”It’s a dead girl. See it’s shocking because….well I actually don’t know. It’s actually gross and says a lot about Jason’s sloppy seconds in the bed.”

He throws the mannequin off of him and hops to his feet ripping off his shirt where it says Dakota Smith’s name again, much like it did in his current promo. The only problem is that it’s dried out and it seems like Bryan almost forgot as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a slim jim. Obviously he SNAPPED into it. He chews on the horrendously salty meat and shows his teeth to the camera.

LAUGHLIN: ”This is people meat because I’m a cannibal…”

A quick glance down to the wrapper proves that to be a false statement and he throws that behind his shoulder and spits out the meat.

LAUGHLIN: ”I honestly forgot I had this on my chest. I was so tired after that whole breaking news bit… anyways….the point is Dakota that none of this works in the ring. It struck fear when you used to. Now your american bore-or story shit is a schtick and the wanna be psychopath gets put in his place by a monster. A real one…not like the one you play on TV.”

HEADLINE
BRYAN WILLIAMS VS. ELIJAH CARLSON

“Throne” by Bring Me The Horizon begins to play. The song starts up as a light shines at the entranceway. We see Bryan Williams standing there, with his head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp.

“Remember the moment you left me alone and

Broke every promise you ever made

I was an ocean, lost in the open

Nothing could take the pain away”

With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger. He holds it up for the moment, as he looks out towards the crowd. The song continues to play, as Bryan begins to walk down towards the ring. He keeps his focus on it, looking straight ahead as he prepares for the upcoming match.

“So you can throw me to the wolves

Tomorrow I will come back

Leader of the whole pack

Beat me black and blue

Every wound will shape me

Every scar will build my throne”

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

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

VASSA: ”Well, well, well, look who it is! Bryan Williams is back baybay!”

JOHNSON: ”Without all the theatrics of a surprise appearance. It’s all business for him and boy, oh boy, does he have quite the return match here tonight.”

VASSA: ”This is probably the match I have been looking forward to the most this week, a match that should have taken place a long time ago.”

JOHNSON: ”The fans are in for a wild ride here in Salt Lake City!”

VASSA: ”Nobody in the crowd is going to be sleeping forever for this one.”

The lights in the arena go dim as the crowd silences in anticipation for what’s to follow.

”I DON’T DRINK BRASS MONKEY

LIKE THE BEAT FUNKY

NICKNAME EAZY E YO’

EIGHT-BALL JUNKIE”

The stage is flooded with bright white lights as Elijah Carlson emerges from the backstage area wearing his usual black trunks with his first name written across the back, a crown dotting the I, while a mixture of boo’s and cheers reigning down upon him. Paying little attention to the fans, Eli begins his walk down the ramp toward the ring as the lyrics to the song roll on.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, standing six feet, one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds! He is ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

With ease he ascended the steel ring steps, stepping through the middle and top ropes. As he enters the ring he moves to the far turnbuckle and steps up to the middle rope as the chorus of boo’s and cheers once more erupt around the arena. Unphased by it, Eli points at his chest before hopping down back to the mat.

VASSA: ”I pinched myself like eight times at Ante Up two weeks ago to make sure I wasn’t dreaming when he made his glorious return to the corners numbering four!”

JOHNSON: ”Woah now, Vinny, you’re starting to sound like a multiple offense sex offender using terms like that!”

VASSA: ”Shut up, Steve! Words can’t express how happy I am to see this man finally make his return to this company.”

JOHNSON: ”The roster had already been stacked for quite sometime but things are going to heat up in the ranks even more with this man back in 4CW action.”

VASSA: ”There goes the neighborhood!”

Tonight was the return to 4CW action for both men here in Salt Lake City. Familiar with each other somewhat, it didn’t take long for the pleasantries to fade away and the bell to sound before both men found themselves locked up in the center of the ring.

DING!!! DING!!!

Driving a knee into Eli’s stomach, Williams then realigns his jaw with a European uppercut. With Eli looking up at the lights, Williams quickly wraps him up before lifting him off his feet and slamming him to the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Williams was back on his feet in no time, pacing the ring and keeping himself loose as Eli rolled up to a seated position, shaking his head. On his feet again, Eli shrugged it off before he and Williams circled the center of the ring, sizing each other up. Lunging towards Williams, Eli’s lower body was unprotected, giving Williams the perfect opportunity to shoot low, lifting him off his feet and flipping him over to his back with a fireman’s carry takedown. Swinging with his right arm, Williams connected with a stiff forearm strike to Eli’s face before standing to his feet and pulling Eli up along with him.

Whipping Eli to the ropes, Williams took off behind him. Leaping into the air, Williams went for a dropkick but connected with nothing as Eli locked his arms over the top rope, stopping himself from bouncing off. Williams crashed to the mat and as he pushed himself up to his feet, Eli exploded forward, leaping towards him and leveling him with a running single leg high knee to the face! Crawling on top of Williams, Eli didn’t hold back as he began swinging away at Williams with a ground and pound. Back on his feet, Eli wasn’t about to let Williams get back to his on his own as he kicked and stomped down onto William’s previously injured knee. Hopping over Williams, Eli shot for the ropes and upon his return, he flipped through the air before crashing down onto William’s with a running senton.

Rolling up to his feet fluidly, Eli turned back to Williams, shouting down to him with what could only be assumed as the lyrics to “8 Ball”, but probably not. Jumping into the air as high as he could, Eli came straight down onto Williams chest with a double foot stomp. Now in an upright seated position, Williams was gasping for air as Eli looked down to his with a smirk across his face. Walking behind Williams, Eli then kicked him in the center of the back as hard as he could, the sound of impact cutting over the sounds from the crowd in attendance. Pulling Williams up to his feet, Eli kicked him numerous times in the legs before planting his foot into Williams’ stomach and forcing him to lunge over. Grabbing him by the back of the head, Eli hopped up before slamming Williams face down onto the mat with a facebuster. Rolling Williams over to his back, Eli made a nonchalant cover as he laid across Williams, looking out over the crowd.

ONE

.

.

TW–

With the officials hand coming within inches of slapping the mat a second time, Williams kicked out from the pin. Not surprised by this, Eli shrugged his shoulders before pushing himself back to his feet. Grabbing ahold of Williams, Eli pulled him to his feet before locking onto his wrist and whipping him to the ropes across the ring. As Williams bounced off the ropes, Eli charged straight for him, taking a swing for the fences as he aimed for Williams head with a running lariat. Sliding to the mat, William’s ducked the lariat before popping back to his feet and greeting Eli with a superkick to the gut as he turned to face him. Eli dropped down to one knee from the impact and before he knew it, Williams hit him with a second superkick, this one to the face which knocked Eli back up to his feet in a daze. Taking a few steps back, Williams then shuffled forward before connecting with a third superkick under Eli’s chin that lifted him off his feet and knocked him flat on his back to the canvas.

Rolling over to his stomach, Eli was seeing stars from the two back to back kicks to the head. Positioning himself over Eli with a foot planted to each side of his body, Williams squatted down and reached underneath him, wrapping both arms around Eli’s body. Deadlifting Eli up from the mat, Williams lifted him high into the air before falling back and slamming him to the mat with a German suplex, he even bridged it for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

Kicking out after the officials hand slapped the mat, Eli kept himself in the game as the officials count came to an abrupt end. Pulling Eli to his feet, Williams lifted him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before dropping him onto his knee with a neckbreaker. Covering Eli once more, Williams hooked a leg as the official slid in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

He kicked out again, the second time in less than a minute. Smashing Eli’s face with back to back elbows, Williams then stood tall, pulling Eli up from the mat. Throwing Eli to the corner, Williams then charged straight for him, leaping through the air as Eli crashed against the corner and connecting with a shinning wizard. With his foot on the middle rope, Williams quickly stepped back down to the mat before pulling Eli away from the corner and throwing him down to one knee in the center of the ring. Running to the ropes ahead of Eli, Williams came back even faster, connecting with a second shinning wizard that laid Eli completely out on his back. Quickly crawling over him, Williams made the cover as the count wasn’t far behind.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Showing signs of frustration, Williams slammed his fist down onto the mat before pushing himself up. Pacing back and forth for a short moment, he then reached and grabbed Eli by the arm before pulling him to his feet. Ducking down, Eli stepped in behind Williams, pulling his arm around behind him before wrapping him up with his free arm and lifting him up into the air before dropping him to the mat with a suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Out of nowhere Eli just turned things around in the blink of an eye!”

Williams rolled completely over to his stomach as the two remained down on the mat. Right on queue, the official began his ten count which only last a few seconds before Eli finally made it up to his feet. Moving in on Williams as he was up to one knee, Eli jerked him to his feet before unloading with chops across Williams chest, backing him into the nearby corner. Grabbing onto the top rope, Eli used it as leverage as he then began kicking Williams over and over in the stomach. Locking onto Williams wrist, Eli pulled him away from the corner before whipping him to the opposite corner with all of his strength. Just as Williams crashed against the corner, Eli was right behind him, flying through the air and connecting with a shinning wizard of his own!

VASSA: ”NOW THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT ELI!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Anointed! Bryan Williams has just been Anointed before you very eyes folks!”

Stepping down to the mat and to the side, Eli created a path for Williams to stumble forward as he was seeing stars. From the way he was stumbling around the ring you’d think he just downed a fifth in forty-five minutes. Running right past him, Eli hit the ropes in front of him before rebounding off and leaping feet first into the air. Closing in on Williams, it was if things went into slow motion before Eli planted his foot into William’s face with a running single leg drop kick!

JOHNSON: ”RED LIGHT SPECIAL!!!”

VASSA: ”Down goes Williams! Eli finally answered his prayers and put him to sleep forever!”

Crawling across the mat, Eli laid over Williams before hooking the leg with the officials count shortly following.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, Eazy-E fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

WINNER: Elijah Carlson via Pinfall (14:55)

SMITH: ”Another Adrenaline coming to an end, another main event that’s going to end in disaster. I feel the black cloud looming over me… And I think it wants to be my friend.”

The camera cuts to the backstage area, where Dakota Smith sits on a bench, taping up his fingers. He lets out malicious sounding chuckle as nonchalantly glances up into the camera.

SMITH: ”Are we ready to play Bryan? Is the devil going to come out and play? Are we going to get a little bit broken? Or maybe the wolves will arrive and take my fucking head. The endless possibilities, it’s quote wonderful isn’t it? Something bad is going to happen tonight. I can feel it in my bones, the air tastes like chaos… And that ring is the center, the eye of the storm.”

Dakota bites off the end of the tape and finishes wrapping his fingers, spreading them wide – making sure everything is comfortable as he continues to speak.

SMITH: ”I welcome the coming destruction with open arms, take my life, beat me down. Spread me across that ring in a crimson slush – DO IT! And you better hope that it’s enough when you do, if not? I’ll just come back, and come back, and come back again. ”

Smashings his fists down into his knees he pushes himself up and with a loud smack, whacks both of his arms. The butcher then rolls his head around his shoulders as loud cracks echo throughout the locker room.

SMITH: ”Do you have what it takes? What so many have failed to do, what you have failed to do so many times before? Do you have what it takes to put the final nail in the coffin of Dakota Smith? “

A long devilish grin twists across Dakota’s as he looks to the camera and extends out his tongue in almost sexual manner. Licking the air before cocking his head to the side.

SMITH: ”Kill me Bryan…Kill me.”

One last loud, boastful laugh followed by a blood curdling roar as The Butcher slams his fist into his chest and exits the room, heading in the direction of the ring.

MAIN EVENT
BRYAN LAUGHLIN VS. DAKOTA SMITH

VASSA: ”Welcome back to ringside folks! You’re just in time to witness the Vivint Smart Home Arena get torched to the ground as Bryan Laughlin and Dakota Smith are scheduled to enter the ring shortly.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s hope that nothing gets torched to the ground tonight. We’ve had enough of that recently and apparently other companies as well!”

VASSA: ”We can only hope that all copied documents from that place have burned as well. But onto the here and now!”

JOHNSON: ”Onto the here and now indeed as we have one hell of a main event for you ladies and gentlemen watching from home!”

VASSA: ”To all the bad parents out there whose kids are up this late watching with them, PUT THEM TO BED RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THINGS ARE GOING TO GET MESSIER THAN CYRUS RIDDLE AT AN ALL YOU CAN EAT RARE ROAST BEEF BUFFET!”

The heavy opening guitar riff from “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead hits over the speakers as a slight fog grows around the curtain and Bryan Laughlin emerges walking slowly and stopping in the middle of the stage he tightens his leather gloves on his hands allowing the strobe lights that are methodically flashing to the bass thump in the music drown him in mystery.

“Judge me for what I am

The passage of death

You don’t play, you don’t win

You change nothing

You gain nothing

Everybody’s out from here on in”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring Los Angeles, California by way of Cleveland, Ohio! Weighing in at two hundred twenty-five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall, this IS, BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

Laughlin reaches the bottom of the ramp, stopping in his tracks as he looks over the ring ahead. Fans begin to stir on the side of the entrance ramp as Dakota Smith forces his way through them.

VASSA: ”To hell with the formalities here comes Dakota!”

Hopping the guardrail unnoticed, Dakota rushes Laughlin from behind, tackling him to the floor.

JOHNSON: ”Who needs proper introductions anyway?!”

Dakota’s body rolls off of Laughlin before stopping just feet away from the ring. The two race to their feet, both standing at the same time. Simultaneously, they throw punches towards one another, driving their fists into the others face. Dakota takes another swing but before he can connect, Laughlin ducks down and wraps his waist with both arms. Driving Dakota backwards, Laughlin slams him back first into the side of the ring before unloading with a quick one-two combination of body punches. Grabbing Dakota by the head with both hands, he pulls it down while lifting his knee and slamming Dakota’s face down onto it. Still holding him by the head, Laughlin pulls him away from the side of the ring before throwing him towards the barricade at ringside. Dakota rolls his body forward, hitting the barricade with his back before flipping up and over the barricade and spilling out onto the floor on the other side.

VASSA: ”I bet the fans weren’t expecting to be this close to the action here tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”Dakota just went out to the other side with the fans and Laughlin is coming for him. If the fans had any sense at all they would clear the area because all that’s going to be left by the time this is all said and done is wreckage.”

Laughlin approaches the barricade and as he leans over it, Dakota pops up and grabs him by the head with both hands. Pulling Laughlin’s head down, the plants his face on top of the barricade before dragging Laughlin’s body to the other side. The fans clear the area, leaving the two plenty of room to rip each other apart as a chant begins to travel throughout the arena.

“4-C-W! … 4-C-W! … 4-C-W! … 4-C-W! … 4-C-W!”

With Laughlin on the ground, Dakota grips both hands tightly around his head before ramming it into the barricade over and over. After one final slam against the barricade, Dakota then releases his head, allowing Laughlin’s body to completely fall to the floor. Stomping wildly onto Laughlin’s stomach, Dakota yells for him to get up, although not giving him the chance to do so. Holding onto the top of the barricade with both hands, Dakota uses it for leverage as he continues kicking and stomping every last breath of air from Laughlin’s lungs. Normally this match would have ended in a double countout by now but without even officially having started yet, it was all fair game.

Pulling Laughlin up from the floor, Dakota slammed him back first into the barricade, propping him up against it. Swinging with his left arm, he punched Laughlin in the kidney as hard as he could. Dakota then went to throw a right but his arm didn’t raise as his shoulder went into motion.

VASSA: ”What the hell was that?!”

This was just the opportunity that Laughlin needed and he took advantage of it as he pushed himself up from the barricade and ducked down, wrapping Dakota up around the waist with both arms. Lifting Dakota off his feet, Laughlin threw him over his head, dropping Dakota back first on top of the barricade. Dakota hit the top of the barricade with a thud before his body bounced off and fell to the other side.

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ he could have broken Dakota’s back right there!”

Laughlin began to climb over the barricade as Dakota crawled away in the opposite direction. Finally on the other side, Laughlin slowly followed behind him, stalking him as if for once Dakota was the prey and not the predator. Grabbing Dakota by the foot, Laughlin rolled him over to his back but what he didn’t expect was a kick to the face from Dakota’s free leg. Laughlin released Dakota’s foot, stumbling backwards into the barricade, giving Dakota just enough time to climb back to his feet. Running towards Laughlin, Dakota jumped at him, leading head first and connecting with a headbutt right between Laughlin’s eyes.

Pulling Laughlin’s upper body down, Dakota held him tightly in place with both hands as he began popping his knee up over and over, ramming knees into Laughlin’s chest and face. Dragging Laughlin towards the ring, Dakota kept his head held down before throwing him forward with all of his might. Stumbling forward, Laughlin had no choice but to brace himself for the oncoming collision with the ringside steps.

CCCRRRAAASSSHHH!!!

As Dakota did earlier crashing into the barricade, Laughlin rolled his body forward, taking the impact to his back as he crashed into the steps, knocking them completely over. Running towards Laughlin, Dakota stepped up onto the steps before jumping as high as he could into the air. While in mid air, Dakota stretched his arms out to his side as if they were wings before pulling his right knee up to his chest. As he began to descend, he kicked his foot straight down, driving it onto Laughlin’s shoulder!

VASSA: ”I don’t know what Perry was talking about earlier when he said that there was a lack of extreme type wrestlers. I see two in front of us right now tearing this place apart.”

Pulling Laughlin up from the floor, Dakota then dragged him to the side of the ring and rolled him into it. Climbing up onto the apron, Dakota walked from one end to the other before dipping through the ropes and cracking his neck from side to side. Now with both men finally in the ring, it was pointless to check with each man for readiness. Instead, he just threw his hand into the air and called for the bell, finally making tonight’s main event official!

DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: ”And now the moment you have all been waiting for, our main event is finally underway!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know how much more these guys have in them. They’ve already taken quite a few nasty lumps down on the floor.”

JOHNSON: ”We shall see! At least things aren’t at a disadvantage for one. Both of these guys took some nasty hits and hard falls down on the floor.”

Adjusting his shoulder, Dakota remains in the corner for a few moments as Laughlin lies on his back, finally beginning to come to his senses. Walking over to Laughlin, Dakota places his foot across Laughlin’s throat before stepping onto him and applying all of his weight onto that single leg. The choke was in fact illegal, which resulted in the official beginning the five count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–“

Falling back on his other leg, Dakota raised his foot from Laughlin’s throat, ending the count just in the niche of time. The official was in Dakota’s face in no time, giving him a warning. Shrugging his shoulders, Dakota walked past the official, bumping shoulders with him and moving him aside before reaching down and grabbing Laughlin with both hands. With his right arm, Dakota began swinging and hitting Laughlin in the chest with forearms. After connecting with two solid blows to the chest, Dakota went for a third but just like moments ago on the outside, his arm didn’t raises as his shoulder just went through the motions. Reaching up with both hands, Laughlin locked onto Dakota’s head before throwing his forward and connecting with a vicious headbutt. Drawing back, Laughlin then swung forward, hitting Dakota in the face with a forearm of his own. He then swung again and again, connecting with two more forearms to Dakota’s face.

Lifting Dakota into the air, Laughlin then hit him with an inverted atomic drop that forced Dakota’s body to straighten up entirely. Backing up to the ropes with a little pep in his step, Laughlin bounced off before exploding forward and rocking Dakota’s jaw with a running European uppercut. The blow to the head didn’t put Dakota down, it knocked him backwards instead. Stumbling into the ropes, Dakota bounced and fell forward, directly into Laughlin’s arms. Lifting Dakota off his feet and using his momentum, Laughlin turned from one side to the other before driving Dakota into the canvas with a powerslam!

VASSA: ”He tried to put Dakota through the ring!”

JOHNSON: ”And it’s still rattling!”

Still on top of Dakota, Laughlin hooked an arm around his head and the other to Dakota’s leg, cradling him in place as he began ramming rapid knees into Dakota’s body. After connecting with half a dozen, Laughlin stood to his feet and pulled Dakota up from the mat to seated position. Running to the ropes in front of Dakota, Laughlin came back towards him before flipping forward, Grabbing ahold of Dakota’s head, and hitting him with a running blockbuster. Rolling over to his stomach, Laughlin pushed himself up to all fours before crawling on top of Dakota and making the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Popping a shoulder up from the mat, Dakota ended the officials count. Pushing himself up to his feet, Laughlin stomped down twice onto Dakota’s stomach before reaching down and lifting him to his feet. Picking him up into the air, Laughlin pressed Dakota over his head, extending his arms completely. He then lowered Dakota to touch the top of his head before pressing him back up, continuing to do so over and over as if at the gym during one of his workouts. After pressing him upwards three times, Laughlin pushed him into the air for a fourth time, this time releasing him as he ran towards the ropes. Dakota came crashing down face first to the mat as Laughlin hit the ropes and ran back towards him. Hopping over Dakota’s body, Laughlin hit the ropes on the opposite side of the ring before coming back once more and leaping into the air. As gravity pulled him down, Laughlin kicked both feet down onto Dakota’s back with a double foot stomp! Stepping down to the mat. Laughlin then dropped down to his knees before rolling Dakota over to his back and making the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

JOHNSON: ”Two!”

VASSA: ”Dakota kicked out!”

Looking down to Dakota, Laughlin appeared to be somewhat shocked that Dakota kicked out after everything the two had been through before even bringing the action inside of the ring. Not wasting another second, he pushed himself up and pulled Dakota up. Aware of his surroundings, Dakota wrapped his arms around Laughlin’s waist, pushing him backwards while walking on his knees. Dakota guided him in the direction of the official and when the official leaped out of the way and looked elsewhere, Dakota took advantage of this and swung his arm upward right between Laughlin’s legs, hitting him with a low blow.

JOHNSON: ”A low blow from Dakota!”

VASSA: ”He knew exactly what he was doing pushing Laughlin towards the official like that. This isn’t Dakota’s first rodeo.”

Laughlin released Dakota as his face grew a bright shade of red. Standing to his feet, Dakota reached up, wrapping both hands around Laughlin’s head before dropping back to his knees and pulling Laughlin’s head down, hitting him with a nasty jawbreaker that sent Laughlin flying backwards into the corner. Popping back up to his feet, Dakota bursts forward, rushing towards Laughlin and leaping into the air. He kicked both legs straight just as he came within range, hitting Laughlin in the chest with a dropkick. As Dakota fell to his back, Laughlin slid down the corner to a seated position with his back against it. Pushing himself up, Dakota then grabbed onto the ropes for leverage as he began stomping madly down onto Laughlin’s stomach. Taking a couple of steps back, Dakota then stepped forward and kicked his leg into the air, driving his foot into Laughlin’s face!

Pulling Laughlin up to his feet, Dakota kept his head pressed down as he pulled Laughlin away from the corner. Holding him by the back of the back and back of his pants, Dakota then turned a half circle, pulling Laughlin with him before throwing him forward. Laughlin’s body went through the top and middle ropes, smashing his shoulder into the ring post. Grabbing him by the legs, Dakota then dragged Laughlin through the ropes and back into the ring before standing him up. Stepping in between Laughlin and the corner, Dakota then wrapped him up with both arms before lifting him off his feet and throwing him over his head into the corner with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Laughlin’s back smacked the corner before sliding down it and dropping flat on his head to the canvas.

Dakota goes to push himself up but his arm gives out from underneath him, causing him to fall back down, slapping his head against the mat. He lies there for a moment, holding his shoulder with his other hand before rolling underneath the bottom rope and exiting the ring.

VASSA: ”What the hell is going on with Dakota’s arm?”

JOHNSON: ”I have no clue, but it looks like it just quits working on him.”

VASSA: ”It’s happened a few times tonight, all at the most inconvenient times.”

JOHNSON: ”Luckily for him this time it happened when Laughlin was already down after falling onto his head.”

Dakota tries lifting his arm a few times on the outside but doesn’t seem to be having much luck. He walks over to the corner of the ring and looks up and down the ring post. Grabbing onto it, he then pulls himself in as hard as he can, slamming his shoulder against the post. He does it a second time before giving things a try once more, which surprisingly this time he appears to lift his arm with ease. This whole time the official on the inside counts to ten but before he even gets close, Dakota rolls back into the ring, pushing himself up to his feet.

Reaching down and wrapping his hand around Laughlin’s throat, Dakota drags him towards the center of the ring before lifting him up to his feet, and then into the air before chokeslamming him back to the mat. Turning to the ropes behind him, Dakota takes off in their direction and upon his return, he jumps slightly off the mat, aiming his feet forward and connecting with a dropkick to Laughlin’s head. Laughlin rolls a few times across the ring before stopping on his stomach. With Dakota back on his feet, all he can do is prepare for the assault of kicks to his back that Dakota rushes in with. Pulling Laughlin up to his feet, Dakota is taken by surprise as Laughlin swats his arms away and then slams both fists into his chest, pushing him back a step. Taking a swing for Dakota’s head, Laughlin throws a right hook but swings and misses as Dakota ducks underneath it. Stepping into Laughlin, Dakota lifts him off his feet before slamming him down to the canvas with a twisting Samoan drop!

JOHNSON: ”Dovah Death Drop!”

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Dakota just hit him with that out of nowhere!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s going for the pin!”

Covering Laughlin, Dakota hooks a leg for good measure as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”Thr–NO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Laughlin got a shoulder up!”

VASSA: ”There’s still some fight left in him after all.”

Dakota raises his head and whips it to the side, shooting his sights towards the official before pounding his fist against the mat and pushing himself up. He cracks his neck from left to right, pacing the ring before turning back to Laughlin and pulling him up from the mat. Holding him in place with one hand, Dakota then draws back before taking a swing as hard as he can, connecting with a vicious right hand to the side of Laughlin’s jaw, knocking him back a step. Laughlin then throws a punch of his own, hitting Dakota in the jaw with a right hook. The two then begin to trade blows, beating each other senseless as they throw punch after punch, never once blocking any coming in their direction. After hitting each other ten or so times each, Laughlin hits a home run that brings stars to Dakota’s eyes. Dakota then goes to throw one back at him but like we’ve seen earlier in the night, his shoulder goes through the movements but he fails to even lift his arm up. Dakota gives it another try but it’s the same result as before. Before Laughlin capitalizes like previous times, Dakota then throws his entire body at Laughlin, hitting him directly in the face with a headbutt. The headbutt staggers Laughlin just long enough for Dakota to kick his leg up and plant his foot into Laughlin’s stomach. He goes to lift his arm but still, nothing. Using his other hand, Dakota lifts his arm up and hooks it over Laughlin’s head. Hooking Laughlin’s leg next, we all know what is next to come. The only problem is when Dakota goes to lift him, he just doesn’t have it in him. It’s as if his own body won’t allow him to power down and lift Laughlin into the air.

Laughlin then begins punching Dakota over and over in the ribs, forcing him to release his leg after connecting with a handful of punches. Lifting Dakota up into the air on his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, Laughlin then lifts him up even higher before spinning his body mid-air. Holding onto Dakota’s shoulders, Laughlin falls to the mat, pulling Dakota down with him into a double knee gutbuster!

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Laughlin countered his Deadman Wonderland!”

JOHNSON: ”GOOD MORNING AMERICA!!! DAKOTA IS DOWN!!!”

With Dakota lying next to him, Laughlin looks up to the lights for a short moment before rolling over and throwing an arm over Dakota’s body. The official then races over beside them, dropping to the mat with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Laughlin wins it folks!”

JOHNSON: ”After these two literally beat the life out of one another, Laughlin finally puts Dakota down for good after avoiding falling victim to the Deadman Wonderland moments before.”

The official then explodes to his feet, signaling for the bell as “Out Of My Mind” begins playing throughout the arena.

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

VASSA: ”These two have been at each others throats all night, trying to put the other out of their misery before the opening bell even sounded.”

JOHNSON: ”After coming off the matches they had two weeks ago, and then tonight, these guys are going to be feeling every bump and bruise for days to come.”

The official assists Laughlin to his feet before hoisting his arm high into the air.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

Hearing his named echo throughout the arena was like having a shot of adrenaline race through his body, or in his case downing a case of Bang Energy drinks. Laughlin rips his arm away from the official and rushes across the ring, leaping up to the middle ropes of the corner and throwing his arms high above his head.

VASSA: ”Say what you want to about these men ladies and gentlemen but after their performances over the last recent weeks and then tonight, there’s no denying that these two could very well climb up the rankings and find themselves in championship contention before too long.”

JOHNSON: ”These two brought everything to the ring that I expected and then some. They’re a different breed of wrestler. They don’t just try to defeat their opponent, they try and injure them with vicious moves.”

VASSA: ”I can’t think of a better match to end this packed Adrenaline we’ve had right here in Salt Lake City, Utah.”

JOHNSON: ”It was like icing on the cake and now it’s time for us to move on to the next.”

VASSA: ”So where are we headed to next, Steve?”

JOHNSON: ”You literally have the same information available to you as I do.”

VASSA: ”Yeah I do, it’s called you!”

JOHNSON: ”Fair enough. Due to some scheduling conflicts with the venue, our next show won’t be for another three weeks as we travel up to Portland, Oregon, for Adrenaline Eighty-Eight at the Moda Center. “

VASSA: ”Portland?”

JOHNSON: ”Yes, Portland.”

VASSA: ”Welp, it is what it is I suppose.”

JOHNSON: ”And there you have it folks! We’ve concluded our night here in Salt Lake City. We’ll see you in three weeks as we travel up north to Portland for out next Adrenaline. I’m Steve Johnson…”

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

The cameras focus back onto Laughlin as he paces the ring, traveling from corner to corner as Dakota slowly begins to show signs of life. Climbing the corner once more, Laughlin throws his hands into the air as the scene slowly begins to fade and the credits begin to roll.