ADRENALINE E98 (179)




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

The familiar sounds of the crowd chanting can be heard over a black screen. A neon green pulse line shoots across the screen, spiking every so often. “Adrenaline” then begins to play as the pulse spikes grow faster and faster before finally flatlining.
BBBOOOOOOMMM!!!

The picture comes to life with the sight of fireworks erupting from the main entrance stage set up in the Bankers Life Fieldhouse for tonight’s event. The camera scans over the jam packed crowd, zooming in to various signs held throughout the landscape.
TARA’S
AFRAID TO
COME BACK
YIKES
WELCOME TO
B A R F I G H T
STOP
HIRING
CRYBABIES
STRONG
WOMAN
DO WONG
SOON

Racing down the entrance ramp, the camera circles the ring as pyro shoots from the ring posts. In the background, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa can be seen at the announcers booth but the camera doesn’t stop there. It continues to circle the ring before transitioning to a shot from above, taking in the entire scenery of tonight’s atmosphere. Instead of cutting down to the booth, the picture then slowly fades out as we cut backstage.

Backstage once again! Alexis was a ball of energy as she stood there. Her nerves were on fire, but what’d you expect? Bottom of the card again, opening the show again, fighting someone who could probably murder her, again. It seemed to be a familiar spot for her, but that suited her just fine. Try as someone might, you couldn’t hammer a bitch passed rock bottom.
KENNEDY: “Me versus The #Baesus. Me versus yet another person who honestly seems to be more qualified than me. It’s almost like the higher ups are seeing what I can do at this point. That, or they’re trying to kill me. Honest, sinking or swimming is kinda my thing, and despite the weights people wanna drop on this bitch’s back? I’m kinda swimming along.”
Winking at the camera, she hit’em with the finger guns.
KENNEDY: “Which is a shock to me. To everyone, probably. I’ve hit some nasty undertow along the way, but I’m moving. King’s Road? Adrenaline, ya girl’s only lost once so far, and it seems all she’s doing is winning, honestly. I’m opening matches, I’m closing shows. Look at me. Do I seem like a rookie to you?.”
That’s when her smile faltered, just absolutely dropping from her face.
KENNEDY: “ Yeah, I know I do. You don’t have to tell me. I was never the big fish in a little pond. I was the small fish, but now I’m in the ocean, and still waters run deep. That’s my fuckin’ issue. I skipped the ponds, lakes, and rivers. I went for the ocean, and now it’s shaping me. For the better? For the worse? I don’t fuckin’ know, but it is. I’ve become a better wrestler, obviously. I’ve definitely reshaped my image I mean, have you guys SEEN those Orianna memes? I mean, the fanfiction’s pretty damn well, but hey, you can’t win’em all. Seriously though, guys, look at me. I’m not secretly a dude, a furry, I’m probably not secretly a super saiyan, and I definitely don’t have any secret half siblings. C’mon. Write better.”
Lifting and dropping those shoulders, shrugging. She failed to contain her nervous energy, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, with her stance, with…. Well, anything.
KENNEDY: “The world’s watching me now. There’s no one fucking laughing at me anymore. That’s how you know it’s real. There’s still some that probably say I’m a fucking joke, but it’s not funny anymore, I bet. They’ll come for me soon, I’m sure, to see if I’m mae or last, or if I can be broken. That’s the entire point of this place. To either be remembered as one of the best, or to be shattered against the rocks.”
That’s when Alexis leaned in to look at the camera closely.
KENNEDY: “I’m not here to be broken. Josh mighta raised an anxiety ridden psychopath, but he didn’t raise no bitch. Now, c’mon, let’s go see who’s got a bigger dick, me or Bianca fuckin’ Reed..”
Grabbing her crotch, Alexis walked off camera.

The crowd gives a overwhelming amount of boos more than likely due to the particular out of norm actions from the normally calm demeanor from “Gifted” DeMarcus Gresham. He doesn’t give the camera any attention like he normally would. No ‘greetings’ or ‘salutations’ to the boo’ing public. He walks with his eyes opened but his dark pupils showing no response except every few moments he squints as if trying to end slight pain in his head. He’s fully prepped in his wrestling gear but he’s without his normal pomp and circumstance. No leather jacket, no frills, nothing. Basic as basic can be battling with his focus as he turns the corner in the depth of Bankers Life Fieldhouse almost running right into 4CW Interviewer, Gabe Hartman.
GRESHAM: “My…apologies.”
The presence of another brings Gresham back to reality and out of his own mind as he gives a subtle nod to the respected 4CW Interviewer. He gives an opportunist smile back taking advantage of the opportunity bringing his mic up at the ready.
HARTMAN: “DeMarcus Gresham, hey just my luck. No need for the apology at all or if you don’t mind answering a few questions.”
A moment of hesitation shows on his face. Not ever having a problem speaking but with his current ‘inner feud’ he takes a moment breathing in deeply and exhaling before giving Hartman a nod though his face remains stern.
GRESHAM: “Proceed.”
HARTMAN: “In your previous time speaking to us you spoke to Tiphany Banks who is now on hiatus. Back then you were on the rise and as of now, you’ve seemed to have hit quite the rut. Your thoughts on that?”
GRESHAM: “Hardship must be endured in the path. That has been the way of many in this company. Even the highly acclaimed and respected Hall of Famers have had their moments. I am not harboring concern. I…I remain undet–”
Gresham comes to a stop and starts slowing rubbing at his right temple. There it goes. He hears him. He inhales and exhales deeply.
GRESHAM: “On second thought, no. Not…not yet. Not. Yet. Enlightenment is in progress. A rain check of sorts Mr. Hartman. It’s…safer.”
Gresham doesn’t even allow Hartman to respond before walking off screen.
HARTMAN: “But…but that was just one question and you barely answered that.”
Gresham’s voice booms off-screen.

GRESHAM: “Thus a rain check! Rain. Check. As in a later time. Speaking of water perhaps it will do you justice to take advantage of the nearest running sprinkler system and the entire pack of Zest.”
Hartman doesn’t respond but takes a moment in thinking about Gresham’s request and pouts slightly.
HARTMAN: “I would but it’s too cold here.”
Hartman throws his arm up and takes a slight sniff where his pit stain is obvious on camera giving the people of Indianapolis reason to cringe. He nods approvingly completely unbothered.
HARTMAN: “I can make it to March.”


OPENING MATCH
BIANCA REED VS. ALEXIS KENNEDY

The hyper active Alexis is all over the place as she makes sure that she keeps Bianca on her p’s and q’s with showing her that trying to put her down to stay down wouldn’t be an easy feat. Bianca watches the girl go all over the place with this impulsive behavior before she finally charges towards Bianca out of nowhere. Bianca quickly falls down to her knees to duck so that Alexis could go flying over here to catch nothing but air before she hit the mat. Smirking, Bianca raises to her feet and turns around to pull Alexis to hers to warm up with a few hits to the face with putting those hands to work before transitioning to delivering a variety of kicks. Bianca remains alert, knowing how impetuous the younger Kennedy could be so Bianca begins taking a few strides back to put space between her and Alexis, gearing up for an attack. The two rush at each other and instead of a tie up, Alexis goes low then comes up quickly with an European uppercut that has Bianca almost falling on her derriere with how hard Alexis’ fist collides into Bianca’s chin. Vassa is talking down on both women with wanting to already move onto the next match while Johnson praises both women in action and receives a shake of the head from his disagreeing commentating partner. Alexis pulls Bianca in forcefully then quickly bends down to hook one of her legs for a fisherman ddt that had Alexis popping back up, ready to put Bianca down once more even though Bianca has yet to get to her feet.
Having zero patience, Alexis starts to pull Bianca to her feet herself when Bianca suddenly swings her elbow and connects right into Alexis’ face. Soon as Alexis stumbles back, Bianca is on her feet with a quickness and once Alexis catches her balance, she’s knocked right off her feet by Bianca’s flying clothesline. But as soon as her back hits the mat, Alexis is springing right back up to her feet and ready to rock Bianca’s world but first, she catches her off guard with a snap suplex. The power struggle is real in this match as both women fight for the advantage while aiming to put the other down by any means necessary. Alexis utilizes her Judo skills while Bianca relies on her speed and go to kicks as they go back and forth for a few moments until Bianca is able to find an opening to go for a straitjacket neckbreaker. Once Alexis is on the ground, Bianca is feeling a bit risky and feels that tugging urge to head over to the turnbuckle after she lays eyes on it. She knows she has to be careful though because the unpredictable Alexis could make her think she was lying on the mat then soon as Bianca blinks, Alexis could be up and out of sight. She knows that if she plays her cards right, she’ll make Alexis eat every bit of those words she had for her in her promo with getting a successful pin over her and walking out of here with her first 4CW singles W. Bianca waits on top of the turnbuckle and once Alexis is on her feet, Bianca leaps off and Alexis has no time to counter the snap hurricanrana.
Wasting no time, Bianca doesn’t have time to applaud herself mentally with wanting to focus on keeping Alexis on the ground as much as she possibly could. Bianca thought a dragon sleeper would do the trick but she never got the chance because Alexis feigned a weakened state which was enough to draw Bianca near with wanting to lock in that submission but Alexis lets off to punches to Bianca’s head, not carrying where she hit her just as long as the punches successfully landed. The punches are able to give Alexis a chance to quickly get to her feet so that she could throw a few more punches, this time much harder since she was able to angle them just right with being on her feet now. A cradle ddt has Bianca on the mat and Alexis begins stomping on the woman savagely before targeting her ribs to kick repeatedly. Pulling back from attacking the ribs, the next targets are her shoulders and Alexis even jumps into the air just so that she could land on the front of Bianca’s shoulders with trying to come down with as much weight as possible so that Bianca could really feel it. You’d think that was enough but the relentless Alexis just didn’t know when to quit and ended up trying to take Bianca’s head off with a soccer kick like she was trying to make a goal and Bianca’s head was the ball. She could have stomped on her some more but Alexis had a better idea as she yanked Bianca to her feet just to get punched in the face out of nowhere. Bianca swings on Alexis, fighting back with trying to get lethal with her punches but all Alexis does is shove Bianca back and lays her out with the FUM kick. A grinning Alexis drops on top of Bianca for the pin and is granted a successful three count victory.
WINNER: Alexis Kennedy via Pinfall (8:25)

Somewhere deep within the labyrinthine cockles in the heart of the heart of the Bankers Life Fieldhouse, an industrial sized dryer rolls and churns, generating an incessant low hum. Inside the circle of glass at its center, bundles of white linen spin and tumble, looking like marshmallows stirred up in a cup of hot chocolate. We hear some footsteps as the camera darts in their direction, revealing the sight of 4CW star Cartier along with a tousled Gabe Hartman, who looks like he might actually have been in the dryer himself not long before.
HARTMAN: “Cartier why are you bringing me here…”
CARTIER: “I told that bitch I’d prove it, now you gonna watch me an’ make sure we get this on the record.”
HARTMAN: “Ah… right… okay… but why the laundry? You said you were going to prove Riley Savell, quote, ‘ain’t never was and ain’t never gonna be shit,’ end quote.”
CARTIER: “Yup, but I’mma do that in the ring in a minute when I change that bitch diaper in front of the sold out Indy crowd. First thing first, I wanna go ahead an’ put a bow on this sheet foldin’ bullshit.”
HARTMAN: “…. what?”
CARTIER: “You heard me. Now, you jus’ stand here next to the camera an’ hold that mic up so everyone can hear me, aiight?”
HARTMAN: “Sure… sure.”
Cartier adjusts Gabe’s positioning, setting him right outside the view of the cameraman’s lens and propping his arm straight out ahead of him, holding his usual microphone with its 4CW mic flag around it out into view in the direction of the dryer.
CARTIER: “Good. You look best when you off screen.”
It could be sadness that makes Hartman’s arm droop then, who knows, his face is hidden. Either way, Cartier straightens it up again and then walks over to the big dryer and pops open the door, brining the large machine to a halt mid-cycle. She smiles wide for the camera as laundry falls from the top of the slowing inner drum like birds that flew into a window.
CARTIER: “Hey y’all! It’s ya girl Cartier! I’mma have me a quick Martha Stewart minute before I go drag Riley Savell around the ring by her ears, just to show her an’ everyone else I ain’t no liar. Now, look, let’s get it over wit’ here…”
Cartier reaches into the dryer and rummages around in the whites. She pulls out a few pillow cases, tossing them onto the floor. One of them appears to have a pair of eye holes cut into the front of it.
CARTIER: “Damn. 2019 an’ the KKK still ain’t even usin’ good sheets. Must be Perry’s.”
She tosses the homemade Klan hood onto the rest of the cases, then continues pulling out various bed linens. She pulls out a top sheet hand over hand like a magician dragging colored handkerchiefs out of his mouth, then wads it up and tosses it onto the floor also. Then, she finds a pair of worn out Fruit of the Loom tighty whiteys.
CARTIER: “The fuck? Who put they draws in this?”
Cartier stretches out the waistband and shows the camera where someone has written “JETT – WEDNESDAY” across the back in marker.
CARTIER: “Oh, shit, that nigga must done wet himself. Nasty ass.”
She grimaces in disgust and flicks the underpants onto the floor, trying not to touch them any more than possible. Finally, she finds what she’s after in the dryer, pulling out a white fitted sheet and holding it outstretched by the elastic corners in each hand.
CARTIER: “Aha! Here we go! Now… Riley Ex-Sweet… pay attention, since you got somethin’ to learn apparently an’ probably can’t wipe your own ass without help from the maid staff. This is simple shit.”
Cartier holds the opening of the sheet towards her body and the moves her right hand to her left, gripping the two corners in one hand.
CARTIER: “Step one. You writin’ this down?”
Cartier then reaches down and grabs one of the two lower corners, tucking the first two inside of it. She repeats the process with the last corner and holds the rectangle of fabric up to be seen fully.
CARTIER: “What was that shit? Like five seconds? See now it’s just a flat-ass, white, boring, two-dimensional square. Like you. An’ what do people like me do to people like you, Riley? We fold them bitches up.”
Cartier folds the sheet over onto itself, then does it a second time. She holds the quartered end-product up for the camera.
CARTIER: “Say hi, Riley! After tonight, you get to find out how fuckin’ with a boss bitch like me gets you folded like laundry. I’mma have your toes up against your forehead like you back in the suburbs doin’ yoga. Then I’mma toss you in the basket an’ be done wit’ you.”
She throws the sheet into a laundry hamper nearby, where it settles on top of a pile of towels and other rags. Cartier wipes her hands together like she’s dusting them off.
CARTIER: “Just like that. So there you go, Riley. Lesson one. That was for free. Lesson two comin’ up in about twenty to thirty minutes, an’ that one gonna have a heavy price. See girl, out here in the real world, we gotta pay wit’ flesh an’ blood. I don’t got an’ don’t need your money, but I’mma be takin’ what you owe wit’ my own two hands.”
Cartier holds her fists up to the camera, licking her lips.
CARTIER: “I’mma swell them eyes shut one at a time, an’ split them pouty duckface lips. Then your debt’s settled. Feel me? Huh… well, you will.”
Cartier walks out of the room, passing by the camera as she goes. She pats Hartman on the shoulder as she goes by him.
CARTIER: “Good job, Gabe. Now go get changed, god damn, we on TV my nigga.”
She walks away, and as the scene fades out she brings her cell phone to her ear and talks into it, her voice trailing away as she gets farther off.
CARTIER: “Yo this the Coast Guard? Listen, I know who burnt that damn boat up…”

We go backstage to Michelle Wong trying out her new GM’s office. She sits in her Big Boss chair and acts like she is browbeating someone on the other side of the table. She laughs at an imaginary joke then smacks her fist on the table and points to give this person the business. She leans back on the large leather seat and spins in it looking content. Her phone rings and she takes a glance at it then puts it down. Then she stops right in her tracks and looks at the phone. She adjusts her hair and takes the facetime call with a big smile.
WONG: “Heeeey, Pheeee.”
Phoenix smiles on screen while getting comfortable on her couch next to Kimitsu who is busy adjusting in her seat after returning with a bowl of popcorn.
PHOENIX: “Hello there, how are you this evening?”
Phoenix asks while relaxing back on her couch. Michelle takes a look at the set of screens along her wall.
WONG: “Yeah everything is going great. They’re just setting up for the next match. There are no problems or fights, or kidnappings going about whatsoever. I think they appreciate me already. I have things under control. Are you guys doing good?”
Kimitsu mutters something that has Phoenix chuckling before she responds to Michelle.
PHOENIX: “Yes, just been relaxing since the Doctor told me to take it easy. Have the big dinner on Saturday with James then following night is opening night for the new place in Vegas so need to build all my energy for this weekend. I am glad things seem to be going great thus far tonight. So not even any complaints? I wasn’t sure if people just complained on twitter or if they also do it at shows now.”
WONG: “Oh you know these wrestler types. They complain all the time. They complain on twitter, they complain about people complaining on twitter while complaining on twitter. They complain on the way here. I have only heard great things from them myself. I bet they are sucking up to me, but I know how it is. If they’re not in the main event it’s suddenly the end of the world. But how many of them are willing to work on that right?”
Michelle brings the phone closer and points to Kimitsu not realizing that on their screen it would be the other direction.
WONG: “Am I right?”
Kimitsu says something about people not caring if they aren’t considered 4CW but yet crying about it which seems to contradict supposedly not caring that has Phoenix cracking up.
PHOENIX: “SCREAMINGGGGG! Right though, seems to be too much of that going around nowadays in the wrestling world, it’s why I have became selective of who I speak to now. But I am really glad that it seems to be smooth sailing over there on your end.”
WONG: “Yeah, mate. I’m not just some braindead GM that people can mind fuck into getting whatever they want. I’m on top of things here. I reckon people respect me. They know I’ll be on top of any crisis that will happen. I think things are settling down on their own to be quite honest and I’m ready for Retrograde.”
Wong gets distracted by one of the screens on the wall that shows the backstage area looking confused. She then looks back at the phone and grins.
WONG: “Yeah, everything is in order, mate.”
Kimitsu nudges Phoenix and gestures to the tv screen that shows Michelle’s ongoing facetime call with her. The camera has zoomed in so Phoenix is shown on tv that has Phoenix rolling her eyes playfully.
PHOENIX: “Yall nosy as hell. Well, Michelle. I trust you and I know that things will continue to go well throughout the night but if you need me, just feel free to hit me up. Kimi and I will just be here relaxing and watching the show so my line is open all night.”
WONG: “Oh definitely. I get ya. Don’t worry. I have everything under control. You just focus on all your continued success and dinners and baby daddy drama. It’s exciting, right? Anyway, I’m holding things down on this end. I’ll let you know if anything pops off. There isn’t much I can’t handle but it is good to know you have my back.”
Kimitsu snorts with a roll of her eyes as Phoenix chuckles.
PHOENIX: “My life never is stale, I’ll tell you that much. Good luck tonight, not sure if any sudden crazy events might pop off or if it’ll be a smooth night. But talk to you soon!”
WONG: “Alright, no worries there. Everything is going alright for now. Can’t wait to see you soon.”
Michelle looks off into the screens before remembering to tap the call off. She goes off to the door and looks out of it into the hall before quietly closing it and locking it shut. She takes a deep breath and continues to hide away.

UNDERCARD
DEMARCUS GRESHAM VS. SHANE BORDERLAND

DeMarcus was finessing Shane with using his in ring intelligence against the brawling Shane, able to put Shane down and continue to consistently doing so by thinking smart and not getting sloppy. One thing DeMarcus refused to do was conform into being one of those predictable wrestlers who rarely had a chance in hell because they never changed up their strategy. DeMarcus knew that he needed to do better in order to be better and that’s what he aimed to do while Shane was still trying to ride his comeback high into the sky as long as he could. Vassa states that Shane’s comeback was when he returned to the ring, therefore this is just an ordinary match while Johnson ignores his partner as he keeps his eyes on the match. DeMarcus moves with perfect precision with his footwork on point, not necessarily evading Shane but making sure he moved slightly out of Shane’s reach whenever Shane tried to make a grab for him since DeMarcus was successfully moving out of the way of Shane’s swings. Tired of this, Shane stares DeMarcus down before quickly moving in and kneeing DeMarcus in the gut. Shane begins slamming his elbow repeatedly into the back of DeMarcus’ head and once he was satisfied, he went for that vertical suplex and felt on top of the world while DeMarcus is meeting the mat. He falls down on DeMarcus with two elbow drops and quickly gets an idea as he begins to back away only to rush forward with looking to kick the shit out of DeMarcus’ head with that football kick. But DeMarcus suddenly sits up as Shane’s foot glides in the air with missing DeMarcus’ head. Quickly getting to his feet, DeMarcus gets a firm grip on his opponent with wanting to pummel him a bit but decides on a back suplex side slam instead to cause more harm to Shane.
DeMarcus then mounts Shane and finally puts those fists to work as the back of Shane’s head slams into the mat from DeMarcus’ fist driving into his face once Shane tried to lift his head. DeMarcus targets Shane’s head like a punching bag, refusing to let up and didn’t even mind if it got a little messy with making him bleed out tonight. Most would say that DeMarcus usually stuck to his wrestling intelligence with putting more into calculating moves when it came to his wrestling but DeMarcus wasn’t minding getting a bit aggressive right now with his opponent. Satisfied, DeMarcus rises to his feet and is ready to go another round with the punches as he pulls Shane to his feet. Shane impulsively attacks with a sudden clothesline and stares down at DeMarcus, making a slit across his throat with showing him that he meant business before he kicks DeMarcus in the face. He may not have much in his arsenal of moves but he felt that he had enough to get the job done, proving that in his comeback match and aiming to prove that once again tonight. Shane knew that he had to stay concentrated in this match and not allow himself to get distracted or get too hung up over himself, even though the belly to back slam Shane just put DeMarcus down with made him want to showboat a little bit because he felt that he was the man. He felt that he was what Adrenaline had been needing… hell, what 4CW has a whole had been needing and now that he was back, he was going to show why he deserved to be on top. DeMarcus gets to his feet and Shane quickly takes off towards him, aiming to knock him right back off his feet but DeMarcus ends up getting his hands on him first and hems him up for a powerslam. DeMarcus mentally declines to go for the pin, instead pulls Shane to his feet and punches him in the mouth when Shane tries to attack.
Shane sprints towards DeMarcus and DeMarcus side steps out of the way, thinking that Shane is going to head for the ropes but instead, Shane stops immediately and quickly attacks DeMarcus from behind with a bulldog. That seems to irritate DeMarcus and it fires him up but he allows Shane to pull him to his feet as he acts defenseless. Soon as Shane spins DeMarcus around, DeMarcus almost knocks his block off with a sharp right hook to the jaw and then a follow up with an uppercut. DeMarcus tears into Shane now with those punches lighting him up as they kept on coming and there was absolutely nothing that Shane could do about it, although he did try as best as he could to prevent the punches from touching him. But DeMarcus was about to do more than just touch him with those continuous hits, he was about to help Shane see the light as The Enlightenment came into play and poor Shane didn’t even seem to see it coming until it was too late. DeMarcus goes for the pin, the referee gets to three and the bell is rung to end the match.
WINNER: DeMarcus Gresham via Pinfall (7:01)

The Adrenaline feed cuts backstage and we find Frankie Morrison, the longtime manager of Chris Madison, standing in one of the corridors of the Bankers Life Fieldhouse next to one of the show’s stagehands. Morrison is holding a white styrofoam cup filled with freshly brewed coffee, and he stirs it with a red straw, spinning the steam in circles as he listens intently. He nods his head and offers the stagehand a handshake before turning around towards the door at his back. Morrison pauses for a moment with his palm on the door as he watches the stagehand walk off. Before he could push the door open, it’s pulled from within. Frankie takes a few steps back, and watches bewilderedly as Freedumb, Jim Bob, Leroy Forrest, Danny Gordy, Indica Nevaeh, Joseph Sullivan, and even the tiny statured Theejay walk out wearing match black t-shirts that say “JOB SQUAD” in big white bold letters with a chalk outline underneath and the numbers 1-2-3 on both sides of the words pin me, pay me. Morrison shakes his head and quickly storms into the room.
MORRISON: “Not this again. Not this jobber bullshit!”
Chris Madison sits on a steel folding chair, partially dressed for action, with a matching black t-shirt draped over his shoulder. He chuckles at Frankie as he reaches down into the duffle bag that laid between his feet and pulls out his hand wraps. He looks up at Morrison and can practically see the steam blowing out from his ears.
MADISON: “Ah, just having a little fun with some of the boys. No harm in that. Plus it was good to see CJ again.”
MORRISON: “That was a midget who parades around as a parody of CJ – you know that right?”
MADISON: “Seriously? Damn… He said we were goin’ to get the band back together.”
Morrison huffs while looking over his shoulder at the door behind him, as if he was expecting the crew of misfits to walk back in.
MORRISON: “As long as this is all a joke. The last thing I want to deal with is you carrying on about being nothing more than a jobber again. That was insufferable the last time.”
MADISON: “Well, the last time I used it to motivate me to fight through the South Beach Brawl Cup, winning the 4CW Championship along the way. Turned out pretty well for me if I do say so myself.”
MORRISON: “Chris please…”
Morrison shakes his head after pleading with his client, lifting his hand and placing it over his mouth.
MADISON: “Don’t worry. Tonight, my sole focus is on AJ Morales and teaching him a thing or two about respect.”
Morrison is overcome by a satisfying smile.
MADISON: “For a kid with all the potential in the world he’s as dumb as a box of rocks. With everythin’ that was said goin’ into this match, you know what he took from it? That I think submission victories are the easy way out… That I blame Kat for our loss to him and Bianca in the tag team tournament… And that I’m mad because I’m too old to be taken seriously anymore.”
MORRISON: “And you said all of this?”
MADISON: “Apparently…”
Madison shrugs his shoulders as the corner of his mouth jumps and he rolls his eyes.
MADISON: “That’s what I get for complimentin’ them on a good strategy, for bein’ the better team. Tonight, out there in that ring, I’m goin’ to show him first hand why they made the right choice by singlin’ out Kat and breakin’ her to the point where no one has heard from her since! He gets to experience a fight unlike anythin’ he’s been through before… I may have lost my first two matches back in 4CW, but by no means am I broken man. If he doesn’t believe me, I dare him to find Eli and ask him what it was like to be one on one with me just two weeks ago. Like it or not, Eli can’t deny that I brought it and pushed him to his limits unlike anyone else has in a long time.”
MORRISON: “I have to admit, I enjoy seeing this fire burning in your eyes.”
MADISON: “There’s no time sulk about my losses. I’ve got Bronx waitin’ for me down the road at Retrograde. Much like me, when he looks like he’s down and out, that’ when he’s his most dangerous! By the time our match is over tonight, AJ will understand… And maybe, he’ll finally show me a little bit of fuckin’ respect!”
Madison snarls before turning his focus to his clenched fist as the feed cuts away.

UNDERCARD
ALLY GREGORY VS. MOXIE JAMES

Unimpressed, Vassa tells Johnson that he might be using this match to take his piss break and is called childish by his partner who doesn’t find his disrespect amusing. Vassa argues his opinions on why he isn’t interested in this match and Johnson tells him to shut it so that he can concentrate on the match. Ally is wrecking Moxie in the turnbuckle corner with those focused elbows to the face and those devastating knees into Moxie’s midsection. Ally seemed to take Moxie as nothing more than just a joke from how she mocked her in one of her promos and by the way Ally was handling Moxie with ease, she probably still thought of the girl as a joke. She wasn’t taking it easy on her either, hoping those knees to the stomach was bringing Moxie short of breath to the point that she would be sucking in air just to get that oxygen properly circulating in her system. Moxie is able to get a punch in from a desperate swing with trying to get out of the turnbuckle and although Moxie’s punch connects with Ally’s face, Ally steps right back up after taking a stumbling step back and kicks Moxie in the right knee cap as hard as she could. Moxie’s face twists up in pain and it causes Ally to smile as she finally backs up off of her and gives Moxie room to breathe…. Or does she? Not at all because Ally was moving back to put some room between her and Moxie just so that she could dash forward and jump into the air as Ally’s knees caught a doubled over Moxie in the face. The hard impact of those knees causes Moxie to go down while Ally takes delight in seeing Moxie stretchered out on the mat. She tastes sweet victory with knowing it was dangerously near and couldn’t wait to have her arm raised high into the air.
But first… Ally’s attention returns back to her downed opponent as she begins stomping all over her body while Moxie’s pained groans sound like music to Ally’s ears. Ally lets up on the stomping only because she wants to pull Moxie to her feet and continue the destruction of her opponent, her confidence taking her to new heights of an adrenaline rush. But Moxie wasn’t having that and a few forearm smashes into Ally’s face causes Ally to lose the upper to the defensive Moxie who continues hitting Ally with her forearm until she decides what she wants to do next and ends up going for a neckbreaker. Moxie then hurries over to the ropes and waits there while watching Ally begin to get to her feet, catching the frown on her face as she looks around for Moxie. Moxie quickly takes off running towards Ally and as soon as Ally turns around, that shotgun dropkick has the blonde flying off her feet and flat on her back. Moxie doesn’t dare get cocky, not wanting to chance a slip up as she just tries to think of her next move without giving herself away or acting predictable. Ally is back on her feet and as soon as Moxie takes a step forward, Ally backhands the hell out of Moxie to the point she tries to rearrange her taste buds and then irish whips Moxie into the ropes. She doesn’t stand still though, she runs right after Moxie and as soon as Moxie’s back hits the ropes, Ally barrels into Moxie and sends Moxie over the ropes and to the ground below. Ally almost goes over the ropes but tightens her grip on the top rope and is able to land on the mat as her eyes fall on her opponent outside of the ring.
Sure, she could have gone out there after her but Ally wasn’t chancing it. But she also didn’t want to wait forever for Moxie to return to the ring so as she second guessed her decision to stay in the ring and was able to exit the ring, Moxie is sliding right back into the ring although she moves a bit slowly due to that hard fall to the outside. Ally is ready to take advantage of that but before she could make a move, Moxie seems to have put the pain she feels from the fall out of her mind as she darts towards Ally and takes Ally down with an armdrag. Ally is right back on her feet like she never left but Moxie soon changes that with a ddt that has Ally right back on the mat while Moxie weighs her options on what to do next. She pulls Ally onto her feet and blocks an incoming punch from an attacking Ally before the two end up going blow for blow with trading punches until Moxie kicks Ally in the midsection then slams her forearm into her face. Ally goes stumbling off and Moxie realizes that now is her chance as she looks behind her and jumps on that top rope. Ally turns around and Moxie leaps off as Talk To God is activated like a trap card with Ally on the mat afterwards and Moxie going for the cover with hoping that she gets the three, the referee granting her wish with those three taps to the mat.
WINNER: Moxie James via Pinfall (8:19)

We go to the backstage doors to the Bankers Life Fieldhouse, where “The Revolution” A.J. Morales, carrying two duffel bags over his shoulder, lets himself into the building. He quickly finds a folding chair, sets his things down next to it, and sits down to catch his breath—after all, he did just hop out of his ride early and walk the last few miles to the arena.
? ? ?: “A.J.! A.J.!”
A.J. looks up and sees interviewer Gabriel Hartman heading his way. He stands back up and unzips his jacket, revealing a Zero Boys T-shirt that, at the very least, all the Indianapolis punk scene veterans will recognize.
MORALES: “Oh, hey, what’s good, Gabe? I didn’t miss Bianca’s match, did I?”
Hartman’s awkward wince tells A.J. everything he needs to know.
MORALES: “Shit! I woulda made it if it wasn’t for that Damn Train…”
Gabriel wisely decides to move this along before A.J. can space out and start critiquing himself for being a bad teammate.
HARTMAN: “So, uh…any last-minute thoughts on Chris Madison before your match tonight?”
MORALES: “Yeah…look, like I said, this isn’t gonna be easy for either of us. This is gonna be smash-mouth, hard-hitting, with a helluva lot more offense than the Super Bowl had. But I really gotta wonder if Chris understands what he’s in for. Lemme ask you somethin’, Gabe…”
HARTMAN: “Uh—“
MORALES: “Chris Madison’s thing is he’s an MMA guy, right?”
HARTMAN: “It’s not his only thing, but yeah.”
MORALES: “And you need a good submission game to get anywhere in MMA, right?”
HARTMAN: “Yeah…?”
MORALES: “So how come, when I put Kat Jones in the Lethal Protector to earn Reedvolution a tag title shot, all of a sudden he thinks winning by submission is taking the easy way out? That’s like me, as a luchador, complaining that the guy that beat me does too many flips!”
A.J. strafes around Gabriel’s mic a bit so he can look directly into the camera.
MORALES: “Chris, you can dump all the blame for Minneapolis on Kat all you want, but all it proves is that you weren’t cut out for tag team wrestling in the first place. You can frame me as an outsider, a rabble-rouser, an unproven upstart, but right now, the stats for this year say that I belong here more than you do. You keep trapping yourself at that crossroads, that’s fine by me, ‘cause I will gladly be the train that blocks your way and leaves people wondering if you even deserve to fight Bronx again at Retrograde.”
A.J. pushes his hair to the side as he lets that point sink in.
MORALES: “But hey, man…you did get one thing right about me. I am a glass half-full kinda guy. So you better brace yourself, ‘cause when the Revolution drinks from the grail of victory, I’m not leaving you a single drop.”
A.J. gives the camera a fist-bump, then grabs his things and heads off to gear up for his match later on. Gabriel, on the other hand, stays where he is and turns to the camera.
HARTMAN: “Keep an eye out for that match later tonight, but first, we’re gonna take you back to ringside, where I’m hearing a former 4CW Champion has some things to get off their chest…”



UNDERCARD
CARTIER VS. RILEY SAVELL

After this match was first announced there was a “Ho-Off” on social media between these two, and somehow or another a couch was involved. Right here tonight at Adrenaline Ninety-Eight, we’re going to have ourselves a good old fashioned wrestling match. Things are about to get physical between Riley and Cartier, but not physical in the manner as you would expect from a ho. Leave that at the front door. It’s go time! It’s no secret that both ladies have had a rough road thus far in 4CW. This was a big match for both of them. A chance to get on the right path with a much needed win. Everyone knew it. They even knew it, which was probably the reason they didn’t waste any time at all to get their hands on one another. After the sound of the bell, both ladies locked up in the center of the ring in a struggle of strength between the two. Taking lead, Cartier began to drive Riley backwards across the ring as she pumped her legs like pistons. Those are some strong legs, which would be expected with the back end load she has to carry around with her 24/7. And that’s said with the upmost respect by the way. Pushing Riley into the corner, Cartier then began to pop her knee upward into Riley’s stomach over and over, knocking the air from Riley’s lungs breath by breath. Grabbing two handfuls of hair, Cartier then ripped Riley away from the corner and slung her to the center of the ring. Falling to the mat, Riley quickly pushed herself back up but before she could get up from one knee it was already too late. Rushing in at full speed, Cartier jumped and turned completely around, slamming that junk in the trunk straight into Riley’s face and leveling her like a freight train.
Pulling Riley up from the mat, Cartier hit her with a quick two punch combo to the head before wrapping her up around the waist and lifting her into the air. Carrying Riley across the ring, Cartier slammed her back first into the corner. Lowering Riley, she then pulled her away from the corner and took her off her feet with a hip toss into a knee lift! On her feet once more, Cartier went back on the attack, this time coming down on Riley with a splits legdrop as she remained down on her back. Covering Riley for the pin, Cartier was only able to come up with a two count before Riley kicked out with ease. Pulling Riley to her feet, Cartier then whipped her to the ropes and as Riley came back on the rebound, Cartier ran straight for her. Jumping into the air, Cartier went to wipe her out with a Thesz press but missed as Riley slid to the mat and went underneath her. Cartier hit the mat and quickly pushed herself up to one knee as she turned to face Riley. Once looking in Riley’s direction, Cartier was taken completely off guard as Riley nearly took her head off with a buzzsaw kick.
Lifting Cartier to her feet, Riley then lifted her up off her feet and dropped her with a reverse atomic drop. Hitting the ropes in front of Cartier, Riley came back with even more speed and knocked her to her back with a running clothesline. Cartier didn’t stay down long as she quickly pushed herself back up. Once standing tall again, Cartier was like a deer in the headlights as Riley raced in and knocked her back down with another running clothesline. It still wasn’t enough to keep Cartier down as she began to push herself back up. This time when Riley moved in, it wasn’t for a clothesline, instead she delivered a swift kick to Cartier stomach. Picking Cartier up, Riley then threw her back to the mat with a body slam. Cartier pushed herself back up and swung for Riley’s head. Ducking underneath the haymaker, Riley slid in behind Cartier and pulled her down backwards to the mat with a quick rollup which only resulted in a two count, if you could even call it a two.
Riley was quick to get back to her feet and patiently waited to strike as Cartier climbed back to her feet. Moving in as Cartier stood, Riley slapped her across the chest with an open palm slap. She then slapped her across the chest with a knife-edge chop. Swinging for a third slap across the chest, Riley’s hand was caught as Cartier locked onto her wrist. Pulling Riley in, Cartier drew back with her other hand before slapping Riley across the face. The sound of her hand slapping Riley’s face was loud and brought out a gasp from the entire crowd. The force of the slap forced Riley to turn completely around and before she knew it, Cartier was right there behind her. Lifting her up into the air, Cartier slammed her down to the mat with a pump-handle bomb!
Pulling Riley up from the mat, Cartier was caught off guard as Riley raked her eyes. Following up, Riley unloaded with a quick combination of kicks and punches to Cartier’s body. Kicking Cartier in the stomach, Riley forced her to buckle over from the impact. Turning to the ropes, Riley then ran straight for them. Bouncing off and coming back towards Cartier with even more speed, Riley had Cartier in her sights. The entire arena then lit up as Cartier popped back up and jumped into the air. Turning her body completely around in mid air, Cartier smacked Riley in the face with her Eat This Ass (rear view)! Riley stumbled backwards back into the ropes and as she bounced off and fell towards Cartier, she was annihilated with Cartier’s Empire State of Mind (Kinshasa)! Covering Riley and hooking a leg, she had her shoulders to the mat as the official slid in beside them with the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: Cartier via Pinfall (7:55)

The locker room area.
No, something a little more private. The men’s room of the Bankers Life Fieldhouse or whatever the hell they branded the place where the Pacers play in Indiana. A pair of nice leather black shoes rest on the floor from outside of the stall and soon followed by a nice pair of navy blue pants which drop to the ground just as the man inside the stall sits down. As the camera cuts inside to the crapper to a close up of the man, the myth, the legend, the manager of champions, and all the rest of things Christopher J. Wrigley is about to drop a deuce.
Think Friday the 13th Part 5. Yeah, the porta potty scene.
Wrigley looks a little paranoid and sweaty as he looks around the close proximity of the stall he has chosen to do his business.
Out of nervousness he lets out a little whistle just to pass the time.
He then waits.
And waits.
Until a little whistle answers back.
Wrigley’s eyes go wide as they drop to the floor in front of him. It is at that moment that a pair of feet wearing black shoes stick themselves into the space until Wrigley’s stall. Above the stall a red balloon floats upwards.
WRIGLEY: “Aww fuck. In the shitter, really? Come on! I didn’t take my phone with me, I promise.”
There’s a pause. The feet don’t move.
WRIGLEY: “I swear on my mother’s honor, I don’t have my phone on me. I’m not in here sending out Tweets or whatever the hell it is you don’t want me doing. Ain’t no hashtag here’s my balls taking place here.”
WRIGLEY: ”I promise. No phone.”
Another pause. The feet still don’t move.
WRIGLEY: “I said, I swear on my mother’s honor… if I am lying, then my mother, the woman who brought me into this world, the woman who raised, me is a dirty filthy whore and is burning in hell right now as we speak. Got it? No phone. Period.”
Still no movement. Well, maybe the balloon bounces a little. Wrigley takes a deep breath and sighs in disappointment.
WRIGLEY: “Fuck.”
WRIGLEY: “Fine.”
WRIGLEY: “Here.”
With that, he takes a phone from his jacket pocket and slides it on the ground. This causes the feet to disappear after kicking the phone away, it also means Wrigley’s mom is roasting in hell right now.
WRIGLEY: “You know, this is getting a little tiresome now. Haven’t I proven myself to the House yet? Haven’t I proven that I’m not going to run away by now? You’ve literally followed me every moment of every day up and including this moment here where I’m taking a dump after eating 4CW’s famous potato salad. Which by the way, you standing next to me with that red balloon in line really creeped everyone the fuck out.”
WRIGLEY: ”Why? Because Kreig doesn’t think I’m loyal.”
WRIGLEY: ”Once again, I’ll prove my loyalty here tonight. And when I do, can you at least let me take a shit in peace?”
With that, we fade to black.



As the fans settle back in, we hear the familiar tones of “Star Boy” the Stranger Things remix kick over the PA and Bronx Valescence comes walking out to the ring. He’s still wearing his street clothes as he makes his way down to the ramp, pulling a microphone out of his back pocket, he waits for the crowd to die down as he looks around before he speaks… a glint in his eye.
VALESCENCE: ”1-1… 1-1… it wasn’t exactly the start I was looking for in 4CW to get started… but I’ve noticed that… nobody seems to care… nobody cares what I am doing now. Nobody is watching my every move. I have heard less about my loss and my win since my return that… it’s weird. You know? Every person who comes to 4CW, they all have the… the same stink about them. They’re new. They’ll lose. They’ll leave… and I had that at one point until I proved everyone wrong and I climbed to the top of this mountain to capture the 4CW Championship.”
A huge pop from the crowd as he held up his hand as if to wave.
VALESCENCE: ”And I appreciate that. I know you people haven’t forgotten. I know some of those in the back haven’t forgotten. I think any other legend that returned with such… silence. They would be offended. I’m used to everyone hanging on every single win and loss. I’m used to them ridiculing me or cheering me on. Now? Nobody… and you know what? That’s exactly how I want it… and exactly how I needed it.”
Bronx looked own for a moment before he glanced back up.
VALESCENCE: ”For me? It’s a clean slate. I want people to think I don’t have it anymore. I want people to doubt me. I want people to say that I fell off… because win or lose tonight? My sights are set… my aim is locked on the South Beach Brawl Cup… and I’m telling you right now. I’m winning it.”
With a nod, he dropped the microphone and his music hit to a loud pop as he headed out of the ring, looking determined.



UNDERCARD
NO HOLDS BARRED
ERIK HOLLAND VS. VIDUUS MORTA

With the ref looking rather scared shitless as he takes the 4CW Championship off our champion, Viduus Morta we can now begin this no holds barred match. Erik Holland jumps out of the gate bolting forward at Viduus, and attacking him with a random assortment of violent shots, backing him up into the corner. Erik does this with some kind of ease seeing how he is the much bigger man. Holland grabs a hold Viduus and whips him into the opposite corner with some force! He follows up by sprinting towards Viduus, trying to take his head off with a yakuza kick! But Viduus grabs Erik’s leg and instantly kicks him in the back of the knee before pushing him back, driving the big man into the mat. Viduus with Erik’s leg still in his grasp, snaps in against the ground, not just once, not just twice, not just thrice! Four times he slams Erik’s leg into the mat, finishing up the combo with a big knee drop directly to Hollands knee cap! Looking to inflict more damage our 4CW champion wraps his hands around Erik’s throat, pressing his thumbs directly down on his esophagus. The referee goes to yell at Viduus, but this no holds barred and he wasn’t about to put his life in jeopardy trying to pry Viduus off of him.
Erik’s face is redder than Mariano’s ass after a good pegging, and with one last ditch effort he is able to clock Viduus right between the eyes with a close fist! Viduus lets of his grasp and stumbles backwards as Holland rolls out of the ring, trying to catch his breath as he favors his leg. A few moments pass and Viduus finally gets his footing and makes his way to Holland, he goes to exit the ring and when his feet hits the floor Erik fuckin’ clocks him with a steel chair! The champion goes flying backwards, somehow catching his footing by grabbing onto the ring post he shoots himself forward and clotheslines the chair into Erik’s face! The chair goes flying up in the air as the big man stumbles down to one knee, Blood has began to flow down the face of Erik Holland as Viduus pulls out a spike from…somewhere! Giving Erik a taste of his own deathmatch medicine, the 4CW Champion begins to stab the ever loving fuck out of Erik Holland, the big man screams and moans but Viduus just stabs harder and harder.
Viduus takes a moment to smear the blood into Erik’s eyes, and this seemingly enrages the giant as he lets out a blood curling roar and lifts viduus up into the air with ease! He slams Viduus’s back down on the edge of the arpon and then follows it up with knife edge chops that ring throughout the arena. Erik then wraps his arms around the waist of Viduus and launches him over his head with a belly to belly suplex! Viduus lands upside down with his back smashing against the barricade, his body goes limp as he stares dead eyed into nothingness. Erik wipes the blood away from his eyes as he looks out all around the audience, seemingly trying to get his bearings. He goes back underneath the ring and pulls out another along with a bag of tacks – tossing both into the ring. He then turns his attention back to our downed champion, who hasn’t moved much since we last saw him. Erik grabs him by the back of the head and rolls him into the ring.
Getting himself back into the ring, the bloody mess that is Erik Holland has a grin from ear to ear. He grabs the bag of thumbtacks and instead of laying them out on the ring, he piles them on top of Viduus Morta! Erik begins to stomp the ever living hell out of Viduus, driving the tacks into his as he began to laugh, in a rather sadistic manner. FInally Erik stops his stomping of Viduus and picks up the steel folding chair, he holds it up in air and just seconds before he swings down Viduus kicks up and connects with the injured leg from before! Holland goes down to one knee, and Viduus grabs handful of tacks. He shoves them all into the face of Erik Holland as he begins to stand up! Holland screams out in pain once again as tacks stick out from his face. For good measure Viduus grabbed another handful and did again! With Holland now on the ground holding his face, Viduus takes a few minutes to breath before signaling for the end, he runs his thumb across his throat and walks over to the steel chair. As he lifts, he sets the chair up as if he was about to sit down, but oh no that’s not what was about to happen. Viduus grabs Erik by the mouth and pulls him up, before getting him in a reverse DDT position! He then makes sure that the chair is just right and boom! He lifts Erik up and slams the back of his head down on the back of the chair with THE AWAKENING! Viduus slowly covers as the official comes in with the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: Viduus Morta via Pinfall (10:37)

LUKAS: ”I had lost faith.”
Alicia Lukas comes into view. Her long hair tied back wearing a black leather biker jacket, black jeans, and a 4CW t-shirt. Her hands are clasped together in front of her as she seems to be looking up at something.
LUKAS: ”Joining 4CW was a huge decision for me. A company that had always been looked at as the place to be and where the cream rises to the top. A place where you can sink or swim and for the first few months here?. Well, I’ve been treading water. Kicking my legs and fighting to keep my head above the waves. Each match crashed against me. Each match would cause me to take on water. A win would give me a little time with a few desperate breaths”
She chuckles to herself and shakes her head. Her bright blue eyes then looking up and refocusing on the same spot as before. Her lips turning up into an arrogant smirk.
LUKAS: ”But each loss, it made me feel like I was sinking. And as I said, I almost lost faith. Faith in my abilities, faith in my heart, faith in what I knew I was capable of. But the last few weeks I’ve been able to string those wins together and then, the announcement that shocked me. Retrograde, Friday the 27th of February. American Tommy will put the 4CW octane championship on the line against me. This is my first real shot at gold in this company. I respect Tommy, I respect the run he’s gone on. But he will learn to respect me…to respect what I’ve done…and then….he’ll learn that we all…just need a little faith…”
Alicia smirks as the camera turns to find the wall she was staring at, replica titles hang on the wall with one empty space in the center seemingly ready for the 4CW Octane Championship.

UNDERCARD
OCTAVIUS KREIG VS. BRONX VALESCENCE

The bell sounds and Kreig begins stalking Bronx, skulking after him into a corner. Bronx evades him though, working side to side and in circles, ducking out from corners when he’s backed in. Bronx darts in repeatedly, using his quickness to avoid getting caught, throwing crisp kicks into the meat of Kreig’s thighs in an effort to hobble the bigger man. Bronx briefly locks up with Octavius, which actually seems to catch Kreig off guard, but quickly releases and throws a low-angled dropkick into Kreig’s lower leg, dropping Kreig to one knee. Bronx hits the ropes intending to come off with a high impact move while Kreig’s still kneeling, but Kreig reacts with surprising quickness and just about decapitates Bronx with an upward-slicing lariat.
Not wasting any time, Kreig presses his advantage by running the near ropes and coming off with a leap, crashing onto the chest of Bronx Valescence with a huge senton. Bronx clutches his rib cage, and Kreig leans back across his supine body for a pin, which only gets a two before the former 4CW Champion rolls a shoulder off the mat. Kreig laughs it off and stands, dragging Bronx up by two handfuls of his curly hair, then slams him backwards into the canvas again. The back of Bronx’s head bounces off the mat and Kreig follows up with a series of flat footed stomps right into Valescence’s mug. Kreig takes a step back and goes for a falling knee drop, but Bronx rolls out of the way in the nick of time, leaving Kreig grabbing at his knee in pain. Bronx tries to keep the momentum as he leans into the ropes, but from outside on the floor Kreig’s representative Christopher J. Wrigley hooks an arm around Bronx’s boot, tripping him up. Bronx turns to shout down at Wrigle with the official joining in with the reprimand, but this just gives Kreig time to regain his bearings and clobber Bronx in the back of the skull with a running forearm. Bronx tumbles out of the ring and lays face first on the concrete floor at the feet of Wrigley, who holds his hands aloft to demonstrate to the referee that he has no plans to interfere.
In fact it’s Kreig who eventually drops down from the ring to inflict more punishment on Bronx, dragging him upright and hurling him into the ring steps before finally obeying the official’s demands that he return to the ring. Kreig makes a fuss, distracting the ref once he re-enters the squared circle, which gives Wrigley an opportunity to blast Bronx right across the forehead with his briefcase. Bronx’s brow splits open like a ripe melon and in no time his face is a crimson mask. Before the referee manages to run around and notice, Wrigley has Bronx rolled back into the ring under the bottom rope, and Kreig hurries over to take advantage of the situation with a quick lateral press!
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

Bronx finds the wherewithal to kick out of the pin, but Kreig doesn’t relent. He pulls the bloody Bronx up to a vertical base and immediately lifts him into a devastating pumphandle slam that rattles the ropes. Kreig steps over Bronx and mounts him, raining down blows across Bronx’s head and face in a vicious ground and pound. Bronx eats a few big shots but manages to fire back from the bottom position and rock Kreig momentarily with an elbow of his own. Kreig’s head snaps back and it looks like Bronx might have found an opening, but Kreig snuffs it out by grabbing Bronx’s head between his hands and crashing his own skull down into Bronx’s with a vicious headbutt. Kreig comes away with Bronx’s blood smeared all over his own head, and he chuckles to himself as he wipes some away.
Kreig pulls Bronx up once more and heaves him into the ropes, but Bronx manages to duck under the big clothesline Kreig throws at him on the rebound. He ducks under the follow-up back elbow strike as well and catches Kreig clean with a leaping, running knee to the chest. Bronx runs the ropes again and hits another big running knee, staggering Kreig, and then rushes to hit a third. Kreig snaps back to reality at the last second though and gets Bronx caught in his clutches, sinking in the Descent Into Madness! Bronx flails his arms like windmills as Kreig’s fingers jam into his throat, and he backs into the ropes. Kreig keeps applying pressure, ignoring the referee’s five count until the very last second before finally letting go and watching as Bronx falls out onto the apron through the ropes. A gasping and gagging Bronx manages to drag himself up on wobbly legs as the official reprimands Kreig for not breaking the hold sooner, and he steps back into the ring and then dangles his head and shoulders out over the top rope looking like he might retch onto the surrounding ring floor. Wrigley sees another opportunity and rushes up, winding back with his briefcase for a second time and swinging for the fences, but Bronx lets himself drop onto the mat as the case arcs toward him and Wrigley connects with Kreig instead, who’d been approaching Bronx from behind.
Bronx finds just enough of a second wind to run to the far ropes as Kreig’s eyes roll back in his head, dizzy from the impact of the briefcase. As Kreig stumbles around in a half circle, Bronx runs back toward him and hits him with Valesence’s Victory out of last-ditch desperation! Kreig crumples and Bronx collapses on top of him, barely draping his arm over Kreig’s barrel chest for a cover as blood cascades out of his forehead all over the torso of Kreig.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

Bronx pulled victory from the jaws of defeat, but at what price to his body?
WINNER: Bronx Valescence via Pinfall (8:31)

The scene switches to show Elijah Carlson laying on top of an equipment box, his legs dangling off one end as his arms are folded across his finely toned abdomen with his fingers interlocking one another. As he lays there he stares curiously upward in the direction of one of the vents while lightly kicking his feet as he bustles with energy.
CARLSON: “Gone are the days when idiots would crawl through the ductwork of an arena to spy on people in their own locker rooms like they were on some mission impossible shit.”
He paused for just a moment before continuing.
CARLSON: ”And gone are the days when Perry Wallace and Kaysie Sherell would kick off every show with a promo that belonged at the start of Lamb Chops Play Along.”
There’s another pause, just for a heartbeat of a moment before Eli spoke again.
CARLSON: “Gone are the days of Perry jerking off Omerta on a weekly basis. Gone are the days of Erron Wilder clinging to your coattails, Dakota. And gone are the days when the Butcher used to frighten people backstage with spooky nonsense. In most cases those shitty things have been chased off, shamed and humiliated, or eradicated completely. Only in the case of the spooky shit has an even bigger mongoloid retard filled your shoes. But that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is that those glory days of yours are done and over with, Mister Smith.”
He shrugs his shoulders without ever looking at the camera, just staying focused on the vent above him.
CARLSON: ”Tonight, when the world cries out that everything dies, its victim is you, Dakota. And it’s going to be at my hands. Vengeance. Justice. Redemption. And another gem to my crown of champions that I’ve overcome will be added.”
Finally, he rolls his head to his right to look directly into the camera lens.
CARLSON: ”See you out there, champ.”

UNDERCARD
A.J. MORALES VS. CHRIS MADISON

Circling each other at the sound of the bell, the two took their time to size the other up before jumping right in. At the same time, the two finally went for each other to lock up. Ducking underneath Madison’s arms, AJ stepped behind him, quickly turning back to faced Madison. When Madison turned back to face him once more, he immediately lunged towards him to lock up and just like before, he came up empty handed as AJ ducked under his arms and stepped behind him. This time when Madison quickly turned to face him, AJ opened fire and connected with a knife-edge chop to Madison’s chest. Swinging again and again, AJ continued to hit Madison with one after the other, slowly backing Madison up. With Madison’s back now touching the ropes, AJ grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him into a swift knee to the gut. Still holding onto Madison’s wrist, AJ pressed him back into the ropes for a little spring before pulling him away and sending him to the ropes across the ring. As Madison came back on the return, AJ met him in the center of the ring and laid him completely out with a leg lariat, sending Madison crashing to his back against the mat.
It wasn’t long before Madison quickly climbed back to his feet before AJ could follow up his attack. Standing tall, Madison had to spin out of the way as AJ rushed in to his him with a running elbow smash. When AJ turned back to face him, he was helpless as Madison rushed in and went on a vicious attack to AJ’s knees with left and right kicks. After connecting with two kicks to each knee, Madison then jumped into the air and drove his knee into AJ’s face with a flying knee strike. Falling backwards into the ropes, AJ bounced off and fell into Madison’s arms who then lifted him off his feet with ease before throwing him over his head with a belly to belly suplex! AJ hit the mat and slowly rolled to an upward seated position before pushing himself up to his feet. Rushing in from behind, Madison charged straight for him. Spinning around in place, AJ caught Madison to the side of the head with a roundhouse kick before he could lay hands on him. Staggering backwards, Madison shook off the cobwebs before looking back up to AJ who was now closing in. Swinging upwards, AJ rocked Madison’s jaw with a uppercut, forcing him to look up at the lights. Popping his foot up from the mat, AJ kicked Madison in the stomach, forcing him to buckle over. Hooking an arm ar0ound Madison’s head, AJ then lifted him upside down into the air, stalling with Madison held up for a short moment before dropping him to the canvas with a vertical suplex.
Madison was positioned perfectly in front of the nearby corner. Running over to it, AJ shot straight up to the top. Just as he turned around to face Madison in the ring, Madison was up to one knee pushing himself up. Leaping into the air, AJ slew towards Madison, extending his arms and legs for a crossbody. What AJ didn’t expect was for Madison to catch him in mid air. Dropping down to one knee, Madison slammed AJ onto his elevated knee with a backbreaker. Not releasing AJ, Madison stood back to both feet as he set AJ back down to his. Lifting AJ upside down into the air, Madison then dropped him on his head with a brainbuster! Rolling over and covering AJ, Madison hooked a single leg as the official dropped in beside them with the count.
ONE
.
.
TW–

Kicking out just before the two, AJ kept the match alive. Pushing himself up, Madison grabbed ahold of AJ’s arm and pulled him up to his feet as well. Pulling AJ in, Madison went to throw him to the ropes but before he could release, AJ planted his foot to stop his motion and instead countered by throwing Madison to the ropes instead. Readying himself as Madison hit the ropes, AJ then stepped in as he got close enough and jumped into the air, kicking both legs straight out in front of him and driving them into Madison’s chest with a dropkick. Madison fell backwards into the ropes, hooking an arm over the top one to keep himself upright. With AJ pushing himself up to his feet, Madison quickly stepped away from the ropes and went straight for him. Swinging down at AJ, Madison missed as AJ quickly stepped out of harms way and in behind Madison. Turning around in an instant, Madison swung his arm around for where he thought AJ’s head would be but hit nothing as AJ ducked once more. Grabbing Madison by the waist as he stood tall, AJ lifted him off his feet and then slammed him back to the mat as hard as he could, planting Madison to the mat with a spinebuster! In a hurry AJ covered Madison and laid across him as the official rushed over for the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Madison ended the officials count after the two. Positioning himself on top of Madison, AJ then swung down multiple times with his right hand, each time connecting with a heavy punch to Madison’s forehead. Standing tall, AJ then turned to the ropes and took off. Upon his return, he slid feet first to the mat and planted them both to the side of Madison’s head. Pulling Madison to his feet, AJ grabbed him by the arm and threw him into the corner not far away as hard as he could. Madison’s back slammed against it, sending him bouncing forward away from it. Stepping in, AJ kicked his foot high into the air at Madison’s head for his ‘Fuckin Slayer’ superkick. Dropping to the mat, Madison rolled out of the way, leaving nothing but air for AJ to connect with. Madison pushed himself up to his feet quickly but with his back turned to AJ, he was vulnerable to AJ stepping in behind him and wrapping him up. With Madison in a rear waist lock, AJ went to trap an arm to set Madison up for his Lethal Protector. Madison’s other arm was free and he made sure to make good use of it. Throwing his arm back over and over, Madison slammed elbows into AJ’s face until eventually AJ released Madison.
Breaking away from AJ, Madison spun around in place and around AJ’s body, positioning himself behind AJ. Wrapping AJ up with a rear waist lock of his own, Madison trapped AJ’s arm. Pulling AJ’s arm by the wrist, Madison jerked around, spinning AJ in place. As AJ spins full circle, Madison does as well. Then both men complete their revolution, Madison levels AJ in the back of his head with his Comatosed (Ripcord Rolling Elbow)! Lifting AJ up from the mat, Madison then lifted him up onto his shoulders in a seated position. Pushing AJ up into the air, Madison then wraps him around the waist as gravity begins to pull AJ down. Pulling AJ down with him, Madison slams him to the mat with his End Game (Electric Chair Bridging German Suplex)! With AJ’s shoulders to the mat, the official isn’t far behind with the count as he slides in beside them.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: Chris Madison via Pinfall (12:22)

The camera cuts backstage, where the 4CW Tag Team Champions, American Tommy and Mariano Fernandez, already in their wrestling gear, sit on equipment crates among other scattered tools. Mariano stares at the camera, eyebrows raised, then shakes his head no, in a show of tedium and failed expectations.
FERNANDEZ: “The mind is indeed a powerful thing, Marquis. But not in the way you would have us believe.”
He smirks, his smile crooking to one side, as his right finger taps his temple.
FERNANDEZ: “The mind allows us to retain past memories, to take sight of what is important, and to give us a goal to set – a place to go. When Tommy and I first formed the American Mangs, I HAD that in my mind, mang. And I knew every god damned thing Dakota and Riddle would say, and what did I do? I prepared accordingly, and I helped carry the weight of this team AND the division for which it was formed. In just ONE match, the American Mangs did what the Sadboiz are now claiming they want to do. Thanks to Tommy’s unquestionable skill, and to this mind of mine that will not ever let me forget. It’s a blessing and a curse, really.”
He nods his head, and leans into the camera.
FERNANDEZ: “You know what else I didn’t forget? I didn’t forget that the Sadboiz were in this tournament. I was expecting you’d choke in the early way as you did when you first formed, but a combination of factors have allowed you to come this way, for which, as easy and as forgettable as your road to here has been, I’m actually glad, chicos, I really am.”
He grins ear to ear, and yet his eyes show that zeal that’s driven him so far.
FERNANDEZ: “Because I finally, after all this time, can demonstrate to you how great, how beyond ANY fucking limit, the power of my mind can be when it has something to prove.”
DA #TROLL GUY’s smirk disappears, giving way to a serious expression and adamant eyes, as adamant as the voice that comes out of his lips.
FERNANDEZ: “I don’t forget ANY slight done to me, but what you mistake as letting it get through my head is what I WANT you to think. Because that is the source of my power, and ultimately, my victory. No, instead I study it, I analyze it, and knowing what’s going to happen next, I make sure I bring it to bear at the right time – when the stakes are higher than the last time we’ve met. And when that time comes… I deliver. I prove people wrong. I prove them the absolute fucking idiots that they are.”
FERNANDEZ: ”Because I’ve been ready to face the two of you together since before Tommy and I ever entered this tournament. Because I knew both you’d go to the usual talking points, and don’t get me started on you, Williams, letting me the fuck down when you brought social media into the equation. But then again, that’s the only thing you’re good at these days, when you’re not too busy sucking up to your girlfriend or Bronx.”
FERNANDEZ: ”I expected something worse, mang. I expected the Williams I faced in the #QuagCup, or the Williams that defended the Pride Title in a four-way in 2016. I expected the Marquis that was unstoppable at that same period of time.”
FERNANDEZ: ”And what we get instead is a watered down Natural Born Killers knockoff. What we get is two people donning masks, getting married, and pretending to burn yachts. What we get is two people so misguided in the lucky break, the greased path, and the sheer lack of interest of their opponents that made them get through this tournament, until they finally get so god damned SHOOK that they spend an insane amount of time just focusing on what I took the effort to lay before them before they even grabbed the mic!”
Mariano laughs, a rumbling, confident laughter that sends echoes towards the room.
FERNANDEZ: “I told you before, mang, I was just waiting for the moment that the wolves would come, that the barbarians came knocking at our gates – sweating a cold sweat as I expected the axe to fall. And I figured, okay. If they’re coming, I’m sallying forth first. I’ll show them what god damned VALOR looks like. I’ll come out before they do and I’ll slit both of their god damned throats, because I’m the one who you will come for. And I’m going to show them the mistake they’d chosen to make. At least that was my idea, mang.”
His laughter subsides, and the serious expression appears again, for a brief second, before it turns to anger.
FERNANDEZ: “And the only thing I got in return, was a bunch of god damned EXCUSES! Do you need me to make a fucking bullet point list? “Dakota and Riddle didn’t want the titles, you’ve disrupted the cosmos again, you’re on the right place at the right time.” For Andraste’s sake, the half of the time you weren’t playing your delusional affair, you spent justifying yourselves!”
FERNANDEZ: ”How pathetic does that have to be in the tournament fucking finals, with the 4CW Titles on the line!? How sad do the both of you have to be to deny everything that my partner and I achieved? How utterly fucking miserable do you have to be to do the bare god damned minimum of a piece that confirms everything I said you would do?”
FERNANDEZ: ”And you claim you want to carry the tag division on your backs!? You’re no fucking different than Omertà! The same blind, self-righteous complacence, the same misguided notion that other teams are going to fold at hearing your names. The same underestimating every other god damned team did of this entire tournament, because THAT’s what it was made for, chicos – to look for teams willing and HUNGRY to make the 4CW Tag Division what it’s meant to be, the most cut-throat, competitive and savage in the wrestling world as befits the championships of the Corners Four.”
Tommy talks and starts pointing in different directions every time he speaks. Why? He doesn’t even know.
TOMMY: “YOU claim THAT my BELTS are NOTHING but STAMPS of UNDERACHIEVING yet HAVEN’T you FOUGHT for TWO of MY belts NOW, Williams? MARQUIS, we DIFFER on ALOT of THINGS on WHAT was SAID but WE will NEVER disagree ABOUT Harry STYLES. I can SEE the TRUTH behind YOUR tears. I don’t NEED titles EITHER, Marquis. I just WIN them. AND then I’LL keep DEFENDING them REGARDLESS who IS on THE other SIDE of THE ring.
Mariano sighs, displaying a visible frustration and shakes his head at Tommy, then turns back at the camera.
FERNANDEZ: “But I suppose I should thank you, mang. Thank you for proving us right. Thank you for proving how afraid you are by focusing almost exclusively on me. Thank you for proving yourselves the basic, lazy, utter fucking failures you’ve always been. Thank you for showing the world why you never deserved to be in the tournament in the first place.”
FERNANDEZ: ”And most importantly, thank you for allowing me to show you what the power of my mind can do – to put you in the god damned ground and making the Sadboiz just another bad memory, another pair of undeserving pretenders that couldn’t beat a proper, well-oiled team on their best day. Another failed tournament finals that Williams will add to his “almost-but-not-quite” celebration list. Another illustrious missed opportunity in Persephone Marquis’ notable achievements.”
FERNANDEZ: ”Another victory for the entire 4CW Tag Team Division, and another defense for the American Mangs, the only fucking team that understood this tournament’s purpose from the get-go, and that because of this, are leaving with the belts still draped on our shoulders tonight, the 4CW Tag Team Champions, and the winners and Champions of Tag Team Into the Future. Because that’s how we’ll come to be remembered.”
Tommy smiles and stops Manny and starts pointing in different directions again.
TOMMY: “I don’t REALLY have ANYTHING I want TO say I just WANTED an EXCUSE to TALK like THIS. Manny COVERED like EVERYTHING. My RESPONSE will HAPPEN in THE ring WHERE I continue TO prove DOUBTERS wrong AND this TIME will BE no DIFFERENT. Manny AND I ARE walking OUT still CHAMPIONS and WILL continue TO prove EVERYBODY wrong FOR a LONG time COMING. I hope I don’t TALK to WEIRD too MUCH in THIS monologue OR something.”
Tommy looks into the camera and winks.
TOMMY: ”Alicia Lukas, don’t think this tournament has taken my focus away from our match at Retrograde or the Octane title. I’ll be seeing you soon, very soon.”
Getting off the crate he sits on, Mariano starts walking away. Shortly after, however, he turns back, and gives the camera a final glare.
FERNANDEZ: “Oh, and by the way – the Sadboiz will never, EVER, forget.”
And with all said and done, the American Mangs walk out, the final camera shot of their backs heading down the hallway, as the camera cuts back to the ring.

UNDERCARD
ARTEMIS KAISER VS. BRYAN LAUGHLIN

A much anticipated matchup between former 4CW Champion Artemis Kaiser and current Number One Contender Bryan Laughlin, one that should have happened months ago while Artemis was still champion but because certain rankings were fucking retarded it didn’t, kicks off quickly with Laughlin charging across the ring, swinging violently with his right arm in an attempt to knock Artemis’ head clean off her shoulders only to miss just by a fraction of an inch as Kaiser deftly ducked under the attack and then uncorked a wicked kick to the back of Laughlin’s muscular thigh. Instinctively Laughlin brought his hand back to block any further kicks to the spot that she had just landed, but that opened up an opportunity for Artemis to quickly crack her right elbow off the hinge of his jaw. Retaliating, Laughlin swung with his left but again Artemis was to quick, ducking under the strike attempt just in the knick of time before swooping around to the other side where she unloaded another kick right to the back of Laughlin’s thigh. Expertly, Artemis maneuvered herself once more as Laughlin was still trying to catch up to her speed. Wrapping her hands around the back of his head, showing off her mixed martial arts background, Kaiser looked to unload a hard knee from the muay thai clinch but Laughlin managed to scout that one, catching her leg and then hoisting her up onto his shoulders where he spun quickly, snarled, and then slammed her down to the mat violently with a back body drop.
On the mat Artems writhes in pain and the look in Laughlin’s eyes hints at possibly taking an opportunity to pin her but decides against it. It’s early and there’s still so much more damage and pain left to inflict. Damage and pain that he was going to take great joy unleashing upon her, and did, in fact, take great joy in unleashing upon her. By her hair he pulled her back up to her feet and then placed both hands on either side of his head. Sadistically he smirked before driving his head forward into hers not once, not twice, not even three times but five consecutive times before allowing her to drop to a knee. As she remained in that kneeling position, Laughlin backed up to the ropes and used them to gain a bit of momentum before driving his boot squarely into the side of her head, flattening his opponent back down to the mat. Once more Bryan dragged Artemis back up to her feet, this time sending her rocketing into the corner with an irish whip that he followed up with a big body splash. Before The Last Empress could stumble forward out of the corner after the big splash, Laughlin began to stomp her over and over again in the abdomen, not stopping until she was in a seated position on the mat and the referee intervened reaching the count of four. After backing off for a few quick moments, Laughlin stepped back toward her, bending down to grab her by the ankles. Instinctively, Artemis clutched the middles ropes, holding on for dear life to stop herself from being dragged away but all that resulted was her being lifted parallel to the mat about five feet in the air only to free fall back down, landing hard on the unforgiving canvas.
Stalking the former 4CW Champion, Laughlin tightened his gloves and waited patiently for her to slowly push herself back up to her feet. With quickness you wouldn’t expect out of a big man like Bryan Laughlin, he hoisted her up onto her shoulders in search of his patented Good Morning America finishing maneuver but Artemis managed to slip down off of his shoulders behind him. As Laughlin turned to face her she cracked him viciously across the jaw with a Hand of God superman punch that stumbled the bigger man back into the ropes. As he rebounded in a daze, he walked right into The First Crusade, flattening him as a battered Artemis dropped to a knee and caught her breath for a moment before dropping and draping her arm across his chest. As the referee’s hand raised and fell the crowd counted along with a loud one! Two! But before the three could fall the veteran ring presence of Bryan Laughlin shone through as he slipped his foot over the bottom rope.
Sitting up with a look of shock on her face, Artemis checked with the referee, stunned that she hadn’t wrapped things up right in that very moment. Not letting her emotions get the best of her, she took a deep breath and pushed herself back up to her feet before brushing the hair out of her face and firing off a shot with a finger gun at the downed Bryan Laughlin who was just starting to stir. In much the same manner that he had stalked her earlier, Artemis stood waiting for Laughlin to rise back up to his feet so that she might unleash her cure for insomnia upon him. However, just as he pushed himself back upright and she approached, he uncoiled like a viper and caught her off guard, bringing her up onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry position, rotating her rapidly before bringing her down into the double knee gutbuster and indeed, in the middle of the evening on the ninety eighth episode of Adrenaline, it was Good Morning America for Artemis Kaiser who bounced off the knees of Laughlin and flopped over onto her back as he scrambled to quickly go for the cover, hooking the leg for the pinfall.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: Bryan Laughlin via Pinfall (13:01)

Heavy breathing accompanied by the whirling sound of the wind opens up the scene. Dakota Smith dressed in his ring attire stands in front of a concrete backdrop somewhere outside of the arena. He had a cigarette pressed between his lips, and his Pride championship resting on his shoulder. The butcher glares into the camera, with an almost disgusted snarl on his chapped lips. But that soon fades away as he chuckles underneath his breath, little clouds of smoke escaping from his mouth as he does so. Dakota leans his back up against the wall and plucks the cigarette from his lips before pointing into the camera.
SMITH: ”Fuck you Elijah! Fuck you! Fuck you! Oh, and again fuck you! Miserable fuckin’ waste of human flesh! So much potential, so much fuckin’ agnst! But what do you do with it? Proclaim to the world that you are going to end me tonight? You my executioner? Sit the fuck down boy and get in line. Win or lose to night, only I decide when I hang up these boots, only I decide when It’s my time to fly the coop and go home. But tonight? Tonight Elijah? Oh that ain’t it!”
With a bit of frustration Dakota raises his arm and takes a quick puff of his cigarette before flicking into the camera with a fiery explosion.
SMITH: ”There’s blood on the fuckin’ walls my son and tonight, even if you do get the win. That only makes us even. Nothin’ more and nothing less, but I don’t expect you to understand that. Because oh no, the second you recognize my crucial part in your story, is the second your realize that your just another chapter in mine. We both will move on from this match, but I will be damned if I don’t end the night wearing your blood like royalty. If I don’t taste that disbelief!”
Dakota pushes himself off of the wall with one foot and raises his Pride Championship high up in the air, beating his wind torn chest.
SMITH: ”Fuck your legacy, your bloodline. Fuck you Elijah Carlson… Let’s fuckin’ go.”
Slowly the butcher lowers his championship until it is eye level with the camera, Dakota glares into the camera with wonky eyes, one more open than the other. He then lets out a low growl before turning his back to the camera smacking the wall before entering the building.



HEADLINE
CHAMPIONS SHOWCASE
ELIJAH CARLSON VS. DAKOTA SMITH

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The lights around the arena go dim as the sounds of a guitar riff begin to reverberate from the speakers around the building. On the screens above the entrance way flash highlights of Elijah Carlson’s tenure in 4CW, with emphasis on his match against Jair and his title defense against Scott Stevens at All or Nothing. As the video clips begin to play on, the opening lyrics of Alter Bridges “My Champion” begin.
”May this be your victory song
A song for you when I am gone
Reminding you of what you’re meant to be.
A gift to bring you clarity
To show you that your destiny
Is not defined by what you’ve failed to see
No”

While Myles Kennedy’s voice drags on the final word of the opening verse, the stage is flooded with bright white lights as the 4CW North American Champion, Elijah Carlson, emerges from the backstage area. Over his right shoulder the glittering North American Championship hangs loosely, 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.
”May this lift you up
When you feel you’ll fall again
You cannot win, no
Hope these words are enough
For you to be strong, my friend”

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring first, standing six feet one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds… he is the 4CW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
At the bottom of the ramp he looks to his left and spots a young kid reaching out to try and slap hands with him. After a moment of hesitation, Eli shrugged his shoulders and reached out to receive “five” from the kid before turning his attention back to the ring. 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, raising the championship high above his head as the chorus of boo’s and cheers once more erupt around the arena. Unphased by it, Eli points at the title and then at his chest before hopping down back to the mat.
POWERS: ”And the opponent!”
“Welcome To Hell” starts to vibe over the speaker system, the lights go dark for a few moments before strobe lights begin to flash light through out the arena. Dakota Smith makes his way from behind the curtain and looks around the theater, his Pride Championship tied through a loop in his belt. He moves his head to the right and then to the left taking a long deep breath, the strobe lights giving you glimpses at his imposing demeanor. Dakota then snorts his head back and spits down onto the ground, quickly wiping his nose off and making his way down to the ring.
“These voices in my head are telling me you have to die
I obeyed their every wish
I’ll fuck your body in front of your kids
Cannibalism, I serve you up to the cult
You’re my latest dish
Picking human meat out of my teeth like Albert Fish
I’m a sick fuck pissed at the fact that I still exist”

POWERS: ”Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred and forty pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is ‘The Butcher’ and the 4CW PRIDE CHAMPION… DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”
About half way down the ramp, closer to the ring than the stage, Dakota stops. He stands there and runs his hands up and down his championship. He then chuckles to himself before cracking his neck to the left and then to the right, letting out a monstrous war cry before continuing down to the ring.
“Telling me to end your suffering
I see red and feel death coming
I will purge the world with no following
Bloodshed, feeling like an animal, caged
I’m going for your throat
Bloodshed, dripping from my face, I’m hollow
Make your skin into a coat “

As he reaches the ring he undoes the championship from his belt and tosses it over the top rope before rolling in under the bottom rope himself. He then plants his fist into the ground and pushes himself up and off of the mat, his head twitching as he gets on his feet. He looks around the audience once more before tilting his head to the side and laughing to himself. Dakota then scoops his championship up and off of the mat before going over to his corner and taking a seat.
JOHNSON: ”Tonight we have another Champions Showcase, this time featuring the North American Champion and the Pride Champion.”
VASSA: ”Elijah Carlson and Dakota Smith going against each other once again! We haven’t seen this is years.”
JOHNSON: ”It has been quite a while since we saw these two square off against each other.”
VASSA: ”About two years to be exact.”
JOHNSON: ”Last time ended with Dakota getting the victory over Eli. Can Dakota do it again tonight or will Eli even the score between them?”
VASSA: ”That’s a very good question and to be honest with you, I can’t pick between the two. Both guys have been on great runs as of late. If I had to pick, I’d go with Dakota having the edge over Eli given their last one on one encounter.”
DING!!! DING!!!

It didn’t take long for Dakota and Eli to find themselves standing toe to toe, looking one another in the eyes with everyone in the entire building focused solely on them in the center of the ring. They shared a few words with one another, nothing picked up by the closest camera zoomed in on them. Whatever it was, Eli seemed to be irritated by it, which resulted in him shoving Dakota back a couple of steps. Shaking his head, Dakota stepped back towards Eli, this time even closer than before and began to speak to him once more. Again, Eli shoved him away, this time harder than before. Shrugging his shoulders, a smile stretched across Dakota’s face as he stepped towards Eli. Before Dakota could make it to him, Eli lunged forward and threw a right towards Dakota’s head. Raising his left instantly, Dakota blocked Eli’s right and fired back with a right of his own, connecting with a solid punch to Eli’s face. Again and again, Dakota laid into Eli with right hand punches. After connecting with three, Dakota threw a fourth that was blocked by Eli. Eli countered with a punch of his own, planting his fist right between Dakota’s eyes. Popping his leg up, Eli kicked for Dakota’s stomach. Catching Eli’s foot before it made impact, Dakota had both hands on it. Pulling Eli in by the leg with force, Dakota quickly put Eli flat on his back with a clothesline!
With Eli on the ground is where Dakota did the most damage early on in the match. Stomping on Eli’s legs and ribs, Dakota kept him on his back with nowhere to go. Whenever Eli would try to move one way to get up, Dakota would block his path and greet him with a stiff kick to whatever body part was exposed. Eli leaned up to an upright position but as quickly as he did, Dakota moved in front of him and sent him backwards to the mat with a driving boot to the face. Leaping straight into the air, Dakota came down onto Eli’s chest with a double foot stomp! Stepping down to the mat, Dakota reached down and wrapped an arm around Eli’s throat. Deadlifting Eli from the mat, Dakota lifted him even higher in the air, lifting Eli’s feet off the mat. Taking a couple of steps forward, Dakota then threw Eli down with all of his strength in the center of the ring with a chokeslam, even dropping to his knees to give Eli an extra push before his body crashed against the canvas. Lifting Eli’s head up from the mat with his left hand, Dakota began raining down onto Eli’s face with rapid right hands. Swinging down one final time, Dakota clocked Eli in the temple with an elbow strike, sending the back of Eli’s head into the mat. Popping up to his feet, Dakota ran straight for the ropes to their right and upon his return, he flipped forward through the air and landed across Eli with a running senton! Rolling over to his stomach, Dakota quickly crawled over to Eli and laid over him for the pin.
ONE
.
.

JOHNSON: ”Eli gets a shoulder up with plenty of time to spare!”
VASSA: ”Dakota isn’t wasting anytime going after Eli tonight, is he?”
JOHNSON: ”I would think not. Although he’s beaten him before, he more than anyone else should know what Eli is capable inside of the ring. Just the slightest slip up can open a window for Eli to shift the momentum in any match.”
Pulling Eli up to his feet, Dakota kept him bent over as he held him in place. Popping his right leg up over and over, Dakota rammed multiple knees into Eli’s body. Locking onto his arm, Dakota threw Eli tot he ropes with all of his might. As Eli hit the ropes and came back towards him, Dakota charged right at him, taking Eli off his feet and flipping him over to his back with a kitchen sink. Fluidly, Eli rolled upright and began to push himself up slowly. Rushing in behind Eli, Dakota hit him over the back with a couple of forearm before pulling him up to his feet and wrapping both arms around his waist. Dakota went to lift Eli off his feet but instead caught two elbows to the face as Eli threw his arm back. The second forced Dakota to release his hold, allowing Eli to break free. Eli turned to face Dakota who was lunging towards him with a right overhand punch. Ducking underneath it and stepping in behind Dakota, Eli dodged the attack. Dakota immediately whipped arounds to face Eli and as he did, Eli flipped backwards, connecting with a pele kick straight to Dakota’s forehead!
VASSA: ”Oh shit, he got him!”
JOHNSON: ”Your Coronation!”
VASSA: ”Eli just puled out a game changer early on and back goes Dakota!”
Dakota stumbled backwards and crashed into the corner. Popping up to his feet, Eli ran straight for Dakota, closing in and driving a foot into Dakota’s chest with a running front kick. Unloading with lefts and rights, Eli began punching away at Dakota’s body as he barely held himself up in the corner. Transitioning his attack to kicks, Eli focused on Dakota’s lower legs, slowly taking them out from under him and forcing Dakota to drop down to a seated position with his back to the corner. Grabbing the top rope to his right, Eli used it for leverage as he then began stomping directly down onto Dakota’s chest. Backing up to the center of the ring quickly, Eli then exploded forward and charged straight towards Dakota. Closing in, he drove his knee into Dakota’s face with a running knee. Pulling Dakota up to his feet, Eli dragged him away from the corner before positioning himself beside him and taking Dakota face down to the mat with a facebuster! Rolling Dakota over to his back, Eli laid over him and hooked a leg as the official slid in beside them with the count.
ONE
.
.
TW–

JOHNSON: ”Tw–“
VASSA: ”Dakota gets a shoulder up!”
Locking onto Dakota’s body while still down on the mat, Eli struck him with back to back knees to the ribs before pushing himself up to his feet. Jumping into the air, Eli kicked his foot straight down, stomping onto Dakota’s stomach and forcing his body to fold as he raised to an upright position. Pulling Dakota to his feet, Eli held him in place and clocked him with two right hands before grabbing him by the wrist and throwing him to the ropes. As Dakota came back on the return, Eli met him in the center of the ring, tripping Dakota up with a drop-tow hold and taking him face down to the mat. Dakota’s head bounced off the mat and he pushed himself up fluidly. Stumbling around the ring with his hand held over his face, Dakota paid no attention to Eli until he found himself side by side with him as Eli grabbed ahold of him. Taking Dakota down to the mat with a Russian leg sweep, Eli then climbed on top of him once more and laid into him with a ground and pound. Dakota threw his arms up in an attempt to defend himself but Eli still managed to land more punches than he missed.
Back on his feet, Eli paced the ring for a short moment to catch his breath before moving back in and pulling Dakota up from the mat. Holding Dakota by the arm, Eli kicked him in the stomach and forced The Butcher to buckle over. Wrapping an arm around his head, Eli then went to lift Dakota into the air for a brainbuster but didn’t get far before Dakota shifted his weight and forced Eli to set him back down to his feet. Swinging with his right wildly, Dakota laid into Eli’s ribcage with stinging right punches, eventually causing Eli to release him as the pain became too much to bear. Swinging upward as he stood tall, Dakota rocked Eli’s jaw with a European uppercut, even sending Eli’s head whipping back as he looked up to the lights. Temporarily blinded, Eli had no idea what was coming next as Dakota began slamming multiple forearms into his chest. Backing Eli up to the ropes, Dakota continued to lay into Eli with forearms to the chest, each one hitting him harder than the one before. Grabbing Eli by the head with both hands, Dakota pulled his head back as far as he could before slamming it forward and connecting with a brutal headbutt to Eli’s forehead.
Dragging Eli over to the corner, Dakota threw him into it with force. Eli’s back slammed against the corner, immediately knocking him down to one knee. Running in, Dakota hit Eli with a running knee lift to the face, sending Eli’s body flying backwards and the back of his head crashing into the turnbuckle. Pulling Eli to his feet, Dakota was forced to side step him as Eli threw a blind punch for Dakota’s head. Allowing Eli to step away from the corner, Dakota stepping in behind him and between the corner. Wrapping Eli around the waist with both arms, Dakota then lifts him off his feet and slammed him into the corner with a German suplex. Climbing to his feet, Dakota grabbed Eli by the wrist and pulled him up to his feet. Kicking Eli in the side of the knee, Dakota then lifted Eli up onto his shoulders and before you knew it, he dropped Eli to the mat with his twisting Samoan drop!
VASSA: ”THE DOVAH DEATH DROP!!!”
JOHNSON: ”Things aren’t looking too good for Eli right about now.”
VASSA: ”Not many people come back from the Dovah Death Drop.”
JOHNSON: ”If Dakota can keep it up and execute, he can put Eli away for good here tonight.”
Dakota didn’t go for the pin. He knew that it was going to take more than that to put Eli down for a three count. Instead, he climbed back to his feet and kept Eli grounded, targeting his legs with various stomps and kicks. Stepping down onto Eli’s throat, Dakota applied all of his weight to that single leg as he began to choke Eli in the center of the ring. It wasn’t quite legal, which resulted in the official beginning the five count.
“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–“

Stepping down from Eli, Dakota used every bit of the five count as he possibly could without getting himself disqualified. The official immediately backed Dakota into the corner and cautiously warned him, allowing Eli to catch his breath and slowly push himself up from the mat. Before Eli could fully stand, Dakota crushed past the official and marched straight for Eli. Assisting Eli up the rest of the way, Dakota held him in place and swung with two right hands, connecting with each to the top of Eli’s head. Locking onto Eli’s wrist, Dakota then whipped him to the ropes across the ring. Upon Eli’s return, Dakota stepped in and swung upwards with a European uppercut. Dropping to the mat and sliding feet first, Eli avoided the blow to the head. Popping back up to a four point stance with Dakota looking the other way, Eli exploded forward, talking Dakota out from behind with a chop block to the back of the knee. he took Dakota’s legs out from under him, causing Dakota to fall over his body before crashing to the canvas.
Eli pushed himself up and limped around the ring for a short moment to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Dakota slowly began to push himself up, favoring his knee that Eli just targeted with the chop block. Dakota took a step in Eli’s direction but immediately fell to his knee as his leg gave out from under him. With Dakota on one knee, Eli then limped over as quickly as he could and leveled Dakota with a shining wizard.
JOHNSON: ”ANOINTED!!!”
VASSA: ”Eli pulled it off even with the heavy cawk limp!”
JOHNSON: ”Wait a second. The what?”
VASSA: ”HE’S GOT A LIMP CAUSE HIS CAWK IS SO HEAVY!!!”
JOHNSON: ”His what?”
VASSA: ”HIS HEAVY NASTY CCAAWWWWWKK!!”
Dakota was down on the mat, but he wasn’t completely out of it. He still showed signs of life as he slowly began crawling in the opposite direction. Eli wasn’t up in a hurry either, although he was slowly climbing to his feet. Favoring his leg as well, Eli limped towards Dakota as he crawled in the opposite direction. Grabbing Dakota by the ankle, Eli then dragged him back to the center of the ring where he then rolled Dakota over to his back. Eli went to grab Dakota’s other leg but couldn’t get a hand on it as Dakota pulled his knee to his chest. Kicking his leg straight, Dakota planted his foot onto Eli’s face, knocking him backwards a few steps. This gave Dakota time to push himself up to his feet. As he stood, Eli was right there, swinging and connecting with a solid right hand to the side of Dakota’s head. Dakota then returned the favor and swung with a punch of his own, landing his fist to Eli’s head. Back and forth, the two exchanged blows in the center of the ring, hitting each other as hard as they could and showing no restraint. As each punch landed, the next was thrown even harder than before. The punches got harder, but also slowed down as both men were tiring themselves out. Dakota then swung with every ounce of energy he had, connecting with a right to Eli’s head. The two dropped to their knees, Eli from the blow and Dakota from pure exhaustion.
Dakota slammed his fist to the mat, using it to push himself up to his feet. Backing to the opposite side of the ring, Dakota had one thing on his mind and one thing only. That was going to Eli’s head with a little knee strike he likes to call The Spectrum. Taking off from his position, Dakota charged straight for Eli across the ring. Out of nowhere, Eli popped up to his feet and ran towards Dakota. Meeting Dakota in the center of the ring, Eli hopped into the air off his left foot and kicked his right into the air, smashing Dakota in the face with a sick kick!
JOHNSON: ”RED LIGHT SPECIAL!!!”
VASSA: ”Down goes Dakota!”
JOHNSON: ”Eli came out of nowhere with that kick!”
With Dakota laid out on his back, Eli quickly crawled over him and laid across his body. Dropping in beside them was the official with the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: ”Eli’s won it folks. Once again the North American Championship reigns supreme.”
VASSA: ”Dakota had him right where he wanted him for The Spectrum. If only he was a few seconds faster he could have hit Eli with it before Eli got to his feet and stole the match right out from under him.”
“8-Ball” by N.W.A. hits the speakers as the bass can be heard throughout the entire arena. Eli is slow to climb to his feet, but when he finally does, he is greeted by the official who hoists his arm high above his head.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
WINNER: Elijah Carlson via Pinfall (15:52)

The scene cuts to the backstage area, with a bit of jittering and stuttering from the camera. For a second the scene cuts out completely, as the words “TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES” display on the blue screen. After a few moments, the screen cuts to Bryan Williams and Persephone Marquis. The both of them are sitting upon the floor, facing one another in the now dimly lit area. It seems to be a moment between the two and a viewer can’t help but feel as if they were intruding just by viewing.
Williams, with his rooster mask back in its rightful place, begins to talk. Persephone, the bunny ears of her mask drooping lowly from misuse already, listen intently as he speaks.
WILLIAMS: ”No matter what happens, Persephone, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of the both of us. Together, we’re reaching the perfect conclusion. We’re in the same plane of thinking now, the same level of existence. You understand that, don’t you?”
PERSEPHONE: ”The ‘Perfect Conclusion,’ what is that exactly?”
There’s an expectation that he says “winning the tag titles” is the perfect conclusion, but he doesn’t.
WILLIAMS: ”We’ll know it when we get to it. But it’s bigger than this, bigger than us.”

PERSEPHONE: ”I don’t think anything can ever be bigger than us. The two of us together, nothing can touch us without a fight. Tonight, we prove we’re a better team than everyone in 4CW. And no matter what, we remain a team afterward. This ‘Perfect Conclusion’ thing sounds scary, I’m not going to lie, but I’ve been afraid of a lot of things for a long time. I just have to face them and if I can face this thing with you, I’ll be fine. We both will be. I trust you now, Bryan.”
Bryan nods his head, turning back towards the camera.
WILLIAMS: ”That’s the reality of it all, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight you finally have a real tag team to get behind. It starts now, we’re the ones that will be breathing life back into this tag team division. Tommy and Mariano couldn’t care less, they’ll be off fighting for themselves when tonight is said and done. No matter what, no matter the outcome, we are not going anywhere. We’ll be hunting, and chasing down those titles until we finally get them.”
PERSEPHONE: ”Tonight or not, those titles will be in our possession sooner than later.”
Persephone picks up her mask, pulling it over her head as Bryan looks down at his.
WILLIAMS: ”Our hard work has got us this far. The changes we go through will continue to push us forward. Our destiny is this division, there is no stopping it.”
Bryan, too, pulls his mask over his head. The two look into the camera, as the scene begins to glitch out again. It cuts for a brief second, and the two are gone. With that we cut back to ringside.


Bryan Laughlin was minding his own business backstage scrolling through his phone looking for something but then he heard something. He dropped his phone and looked up. He could have sworn she was right behind him. He could have sworn he heard her whisper “Help Me” right behind him but instead he looked up he saw her long, curly, firey hair disappear around the corner.
It is weeks before Retrograde and if we knew anything about Viduus Morta it was that he would play as many mind games as he could. This was Bryan’s wife though. It was Kaelan and God damnit if she needed help, because Bryan knows he heard her say it, she was going to get help so he ran.
He ran to that hallway and was absolutely destroyed by the black boots of the 4CW Champion. The Speaker peaked out from behind Viduus and examined the challenger. He knelt over him and delivered several right hands rendering Bryan useless for the moment. Viduus grabbed something from his coat and as he moved towards the downed challenger Kaelan is revealed to be standing there in there in the hallway, leaned up against the wall just watching as her husband was beaten down and blindsided. There is no expression on her faces, no pleasure and no pain just the ice cold blue of her frozen eyes.
Viduus stood at the head of Bryan Laughlin and dropped what was in his hand over his face. A clown mask.
MORTA: “It wasn’t always going to be this way. It didn’t have to be like this.”
What was he talking about? What did that mean?
Bryan was out on his back, clown mask covering his face. Viduus and The Speaker walked off without a grin, without a smile, without anything at all other than leaving Kaelan behind for the camera to capture her cold stare.



MAIN EVENT
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP
TAG TEAM INTO THE FUTURE
ROUND THREE FINALS

SADBOIZ VS. AMERICAN MANGS ©

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following Tag Team Championship contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The familiar guitar riff starts up, as“Mr. Brightside” begins to play. Tthe lights turn down in the arena, leaving only a spotlight centered on the entrance way.
“Coming out of my cage
And I’ve been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss…”

With the first lyrics out of the way the song is now in full swing, as the lights react to the beat. Bryan and Persephone emerge out from the back, the spotlight beaming down for the both of them. Marquis carries a rather large, and condescending smile on her face. Bryan, on the other hand has his head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger.
POWERS: ”Coming to the ring, at a combined weight of three hundred and seventeen pounds, the team of PERSEPHONE MARQUIS and BRYAN WILLIAMS… THE SSAADDBBOOIIZZ!!!”
Persephone waits, a bit patiently, for Bryan to finish with his posing. Bryan doesn’t waste too much time, as the two walk down to the ring. They head down to the ring rather quickly, not wasting much time with anything else. Both slide under the bottom rope, entering the ring as they get prepared for the upcoming match.
The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.
problem?

“DOESN’T TAKE MUCH AND THAT’S MESSED UP
BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE DO A LOT OF SIMPLE SHIT TO IMPRESS US!”

POWERS: ”And now, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds! From Buenos Aires, Argentina, by way of Miami, Florida… He is one half of the 4CW Tag Champions… ‘THE GADFLY’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”
“… YOU CAN’T ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS IF YOU DON’T TAKE THAT CHANCE
SO GO PRY OPEN THAT TRUNK AND GET THOSE AMPS, YOU KNOW-“

The lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, Mariano is standing at the stage entrance, posing to the crowd going wild. The music then transitions into “High Hopes” by Panic at the Disco blaring throughout the arena, sending the audience into a hysteria of excitement. Gold and Crimson lights flash around the arena and confetti drop from the ceiling as American Tommy pushes through the curtains and walks out and he raises that Octane Championship into the air with great pride with his 4CW Tag Title cinched around his waist. A look of satisfaction glistens in his eyes as he steps beside Mariano on the stage.
POWERS: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, get on your feet for your Octane Champion and 4CW Tag Champion. Standing at five feet, eleven inches with a penis much larger than that. Hailing from Chicago, Illinois! AMERICAN TTOOMMMMYY!!!”
The two then head down the ramp and straight for the ring.
POWERS: ”They are the AMERICAN MMAANNGGSS!!!”
Reaching the ring, Tommy slides in with the grace of a baby learning to walk. He climbs up on the turnbuckle he raises the Octane Championship with one hand to the crowd as they raise their arms to him. Manny climbs the ringside steps and walks to the center of the apron before dipping through the ropes and entering the ring himself. As the music and lights come back to normal, Manny grabs the microphone from Mike Powers.
FERNANDEZ: ”FUS RO DAH!!!”
Mariano and Williams exchange some words as the bell rings.
DING!!! DING!!!

Marquis and Tommy have to physically push them back to the corners and they start somewhat hesitantly. Tommy reaches out for a handshake for a friend. Marquis looks around asking what the fuck. She shrugs as the fans seem to want her to do it. They slowly meet in the middle of the ring and slowly shake hands. When they are sure neither of them will try anything they shake hands for real without any caution. Then they hug as the fans applaud. Williams slowly claps sarcastically from the apron as Manny is not too sure what is going on. Marquis suddenly sweeps Tommy’s legs out from under him and pushes him down to the mat.
VASSA: ”Pay attention, Feets!”
JOHNSON: ”Persephone isn’t waiting to get this thing underway regardless of her relationship with Tommy.”
Tommy covers up as Marquis hits him with some mounted punches. He scrambles and pushes her off to try to go to the ropes, but Marquis pulls him back to the middle of the ring by his leg. Tommy reaches out to Manny who is so far away until Marquis stomps on his fingers. He looks very betrayed as he holds his hurt hand out to her. She pushes her nose up and sticks her tongue out at him then proceeds to stomp on his arms and legs finishing off with a stomp to his head. Marquis pulls Tommy to her corner and tags out to Williams.
VASSA: ”Ahh, she’s making faces at him! Spit on him Zee-Marquis!”
JOHNSON: ”There’s a quick tag in for Williams and he’s going straight to work.”
Williams is unrelenting as he continues the offense on Tommy. Williams smacks Tommy into the corner with a series of forearm to elbow smashes. He smacks Tommy in the face and asks for his hug too. Williams hugs Tommy then hits a Belly to Belly Suplex. As Marquis laughs in the corner at this trickery. Williams proceeds to throw Tommy around the ring with a series of Suplexes. After a huge German Suplex, Williams gets Tommy into a Surfboard Stretch. Marquis climbs to the top turnbuckle and the ref stops Mariano from doing the same because fuck him, right? Anyways Marquis jumps to land on an elevated Tommy with a Diving Seated Senton that plants his head and shoulders on the mat as Williams lets him go. Williams keeps Tommy rolled up as Marquis runs back out. The ref counts.
ONE
.
.
TWO

Tommy kicks out and he goes towards the corner. Williams rushes at him but stops when Tommy pulls out his magic wand and thrusts it in Williams’ face. Williams shrugs and takes the wand from Tommy and breaks it over his knee. Tommy gasps in horror along with most of the audience. He picks up the two pieces of the wand and gets up looking livid. Willaims can’t believe any of this is going on and throws a punch at Tommy which is blocked! Tommy hits Williams with a big punch of his own. Tommy punches Williams again and again. He picks Williams up on his shoulders and sends him for a ride with an Airplane Spin. They go round and round until Tommy lets him down because he is suddenly dizzy. Williams collapses at his corner so Marquis tags herself in.
JOHNSON: ”Persephone is back in here with a fresh mindset after Tommy brought Williams’ world to spinning.”
VASSA: ”If Tommy is going to do anything remotely close to an airplane I wish he’d fly into the side of a building.”
JOHNSON: ”Wow, dude.”
Tommy picks right up where he left off and picks her up into the Airplane Spin as well. Marquis spins right out of it before she gets too affected by it but Tommy keeps spinning and tries to hit her with a Lariat. Marquis ducks and smacks him in the face. Tommy fires back with a smack of his own and they begin flailing at each other with left and rights like when one of those playfights get real. This one gets really real as they smack into each other harder and harder. Marquis ends it by kicking Tommy in the shin. Tommy skips around howling curses at Marquis until he suddenly kicks her in the stomach with his hurt leg then hits a Swinging Neckbreaker.
VASSA: ”Let’s hope Persephone isn’t pregnant after that kick to the stomach!”
JOHNSON: ”You just have to go right to that, don’t you?”
VASSA: ”It wouldn’t be the first miscarriage in a 4CW match.”
Tommy and Marquis slowly crawl to their respective corners. The fans howl to a fever pitch as they both tag in their partners. Mariano and Williams enter the ring like two raging bulls finally being able to let off some steam. They trade elbows in the middle of the ring. The fresher Mariano sends Williams reeling with a big one then goes for The Gadfly. Williams ducks and tries to get Mariano with a Deadlift German Suplex. Mariano elbows Williams repeatedly to get free then hits a Pele Kick. Williams almost goes down but before he does he hits Mariano with a Spinning Backfist. He is about to complete the Raging Demon, but Tommy appears to pluck him out of the air and hit a Sidewalk Slam. Marquis runs in to hit Tommy with a Punt to the chest as he gets up. She turns to be misted with the Trollface by Mariano. He runs at her and hits the Shining Wizard. Williams then hits a Shining Wizard of his own on Mariano and all four of the competitors are down!
JOHNSON: ”Bang! Bang! Bang! Everyone is going down in the blink of an eye.”
VASSA: ”Just like an old fashioned Mexican standoff. Something Mariano knows all about.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s not Mexican, though.”
VASSA: ”Well fuck me, right?”
The ref checks up on all of them and Tommy holds him back. He uses the ref’s shirt to get up. He goes to rally Mariano up. Williams and Marquis both get up. Tommy gives the sign for a time out. He raises his hands and asks for water from the crowd. One fan throws him a half full bottle of water that he gives to Mariano. Tommy raises his arms and asks for more. The fans in attendance then start throwing their water and drinks into the ring. The Sadboiz and American Mangs leave the ring for cover as the ref and security try to regain control of the audience.
VASSA: ”What the hell is going on here?!”
JOHNSON: ”The fans are throwing their drinks into the ring.”
VASSA: ”They can surely do better than that! Where are the chairs?!”
JOHNSON: ”Hold on a second–is she? She can’t be.”
VASSA: ”She can’t be what?”
JOHNSON: ”Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me it looks like Persephone is on a cellphone at ringside.”
VASSA: ”Some random fan with a haircut like Elvis just handed her his phone.”
When it all dies down everyone is wet (not for Jett) and it becomes a wild wet brawl on the outside. Marquis runs, jumps on the apron, them hits a diving hurricanrana on Tommy. He slides down the wet floor to hit the barricades. Mariano hits Williams with the Arrow to the Knee. Marquis runs at him to hit a Running Bulldog, but Mariano pushes her into the barricades and hits her with a Jump Swing DDT. Williams notices the ref has begun counting and limps onto the ring. Mariano follows him in.
JOHNSON: ”Our legal folks are back into the ring and the ten count has come to an end.”
VASSA: ”That’s normally what happens when people get back inside of the ring.”
Williams hits a Bicycle Kick before Mariano is fully in the ring. Mariano hangs off the ropes so Williams hits a Diving Elbow onto Mariano to smash him down into the ring. He grabs Mariano up and hits the Deadlift German Suplex with great satisfaction. He sets Manny up into the Piledriver position and turns as Marquis climbs up the turnbuckle from the outside. Before she jumps off to hit Less Than Zero, Tommy raises up next to her. He punches her in the midsection then puts an arm under hers.
Tommy then throws Marquis off the top rope with an Avalanche Yoyo Toss Salad and Marquis lands on the apron! Williams is distracted by this allowing Mariano to shift out of the move. He picks Williams up into a Vertical Suplex then hits the Dovahkin Driver! He pins Williams as Tommy half checks on, half holds Marquis down.
JOHNSON: ”THE DOVAHKIN DRIVER AND THERE’S THE PIN!!!”

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

VASSA: ”This one’s in the books!”
JOHNSON: ”The American Mangs have won it and not only retained the Tag Team Championships, but they’ve also won the entire Tag Team Into The Future tournament.”
“Trying To Find A Balance” hits the speakers as Mariano triumphantly rises to his feet. Joining in beside him is American Tommy, jumping for joy and congratulating Mariano on the win here tonight.
VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy acts more and more like a little girl every time I see him.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s happy. This is a huge win for both of them here tonight.”
The official brings the Tag Team Championships over to Tommy and Mariano, handing them each one before grabbing each of their arms and raising them into the air. Holding the championships with their free hands, they raise them together in unison as the official announcement is made.
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Here are your winners by pinfall, the winners of the Tag Team Into The Future tournament, AND STILL 4CW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… THE AMERICAN MMAANNGGSS!!!”
Tommy and Mariano celebrate in the ring as Williams rolls to the outside where he joins Persephone who looks furious at the end result.
JOHNSON: ”Well that’s it for the tournament. American Mangs won the championships in the first round and defending in the other two, winning the tournament in one big sweep.”
VASSA: ”So what’s next on the agenda?”
JOHNSON: ”For those two, they have singles obligations at Retrograde in three weeks but for the tag division, there’s still some teams in the mix. Given what a few teams have said that were knocked out of the tournament, the tag division is still a priority so I can only assume we’ll have something soon between some teams to determine who challenges first for the Tag Team Championships.”
VASSA: ”Reedvolution and the Sadboiz are free for Retrograde. There’s an idea for a number one contender match right there.”
JOHNSON: ”It wouldn’t be a bad idea if I do say so myself. Keep everyone’s mind on the tag division without letting it settle down.”
VASSA: ”By the look on their faces at ringside, Persephone and Williams aren’t done with this by a long shot.”
The camera cuts to the outside where Williams and Persephone look into the ring at Tommy and Mariano. The match is over, what’s done is done, but that doesn’t mean they’re happy with it one bit. The two teams exchange a few words, Sadboiz being a little more hostile than the American Mangs. Leaving ringside, Persephone and Williams head up the ramp, walking backwards while staring at Mariano and Tommy in the ring, pointing to them and motioning their hands around their waists as if they were the one’s with the belts.
JOHNSON: ”Well there you have it ladies and gents! The only thing left for us to do now is head on to Chicago in three weeks for Retrograde.”
VASSA: ”We have all the singles championships on the line as well as a Twenty-Eighteen Hall of Fame showdown. Who knows what else management has in store.”
JOHNSON: ”We can only wait and see. With the extra week leading to Retrograde, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re slow to release the card and instead announce specific match types on social media to hype this big event.”
VASSA: ”So are we going to call it a night?”
JOHNSON: ”What else is there to do. The show is over and I for one am tired. I feel like we’ve been here for twenty-four hours plus.”
VASSA: ”Yeah, but you’re also old as dirt.”
JOHNSON: ”Not too old to make your mother call me daddy.”
VASSA: ”JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”
JOHNSON: ”I told you, I’m tired and don’t even know what I’m doing at this point.”
VASSA: ”Then I guess we need to call it a night so you can get back to the room old man.”
JOHNSON: ”You heard it folks! From 4CW and the booth, I’m Steve Johnson and we’ll see you in three weeks at Retrograde.”
VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight and goodnight!”
The camera focuses on Tommy and Mariano still celebrating in the center of the ring. The entire arena cheers for them and at the top of the ramp, Persephone and Williams stand in an entirely different mood with their eyes still locked on the ring. The camera keeps cutting back and forth between the two teams before finally fading out as the credits begin to roll.