The screen begins to flicker with the start of tonight’s event before an image from Fright Night’s promotional material comes into full display.

Footage from Fright Night in black and white then begins to play.

JOHNSON: ”Ana can win it right here if she can just grab the championship that’s only a few feet over her head.”

VASSA: ”If she’s going to do it now’s the time with Laughlin who appears to be knocked out?”

JOHNSON: ”He could very well be. That was a nasty blow he just took to the face.”

Climbing as high as she possibly could, Ana then stood straight up. She reached up and grabbed the 4CW Championship. It wasn’t held up by Velcro or anything, she had to undo it’s harness holding it up. Over the arena, a chant then begins to break out as it’s clear she’s about to win it all.

“Ana! … Ana! … Ana! … Ana! … An–“

And at that precise moment, the cheers turned to dead silence as Laughlin pushed himself up, pulling his head away from the top of the ladder. Focused on the championship, Ana didn’t see Laughlin’s movements, or even know he had regained his consciousness. Before she can pull the 4CW Championship away from the harness, Laughlin grabs ahold of her, pulling her down and her hands away from the 4CW Championship. He pulls her over his shoulders into a fireman’s carry hold. Swinging wildly with both arms, Ana punches Laughlin in the chest and back as she tries to escape. As if not even feeling her strikes at all, Laughlin then lifts her into the air, turning her body as he jumps backwards away from the ladder. Locking onto her shoulders, he then falls backwards to the cage top while pulling her down with him. Pulling his knees to his chest, Laughlin’s back then crashes against the cage top, instantly stopping him as he pulls Ana down into a double knee gut buster!



VASSA: ”Ana, NNNOOOOOO!!! How could a fellow Hellcat Spangled Death Squad Member do that to another!”

As if in slow motion, Laughlin rolled Ana off of him, rolling her to her back. He then pulled himself up, at an even slower rate. With Ana down and everyone else on ground level, Laughlin then begins to make his climb all by himself.

JOHNSON: ”There’s no one to stop him now.”

VASSA: ”Don’t count Ana out yet, or anyone for that matter. It isn’t over until the fat lady sings!”

But really it is. He finally reaches the top of the ladder. Barely able to stand on his own, Laughlin holds one arm against his ribs as if favoring them. With his other arm, he reaches are high as he can, extending it completely. Needing both hands, he then slowly pulls his other arm away from his side and reaches up with it. With Ana still out cold and everyone else out of commission, Laughlin is free to do as he pleases, finally unbuckling the 4CW Championship and pulling it down against his chest in both arms.

VASSA: ”Laughlin’s done it! He’s retained the 4CW Championship!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s made history here tonight ladies and gentlemen as the first person ever to walk into the Warzone of Horrors with the 4CW Championship and leave with it in his possession.”

The video footage then begins to slowly fade out.

Explosions of fireworks and pyro then bring the picture to life from the top of the entrance ramp for tonight’s event at the United Center in Chicago, Illinois. We have a full house on our hands tonight as the camera slowly takes in the entire view from left to right. Overlooking the crowd in attendance, the camera zooms into various signs held by fans joining us.

Now looking straight down the ramp towards the ring in the center of it all, the camera then slowly begins to travel towards it. Fans from both sides scream for attention as the camera passes by. Making it to ringside, the camera circles the ring, each corner exploding with pyro as it passes. Before making it completely around the ring, the camera stops as a familiar faces waves for its attention, backed by everyone in the surrounding area drawing attention to the one person.

The camera then turns away from the Young God and turns the final corner of the ring where the announcers booth comes into view. Behind the booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa patiently await to kick things off and with the queue, it’s showtime!

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another action packed night of 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson, and we’re coming to you live tonight for Adrenaline One Hundred and Six from the United Center in Chicago, Illinois.”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Chicago, I am inside of you!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a little weird.”

VASSA: ”Is it? We’re literally in Chicago right now.”

JOHNSON: ”Moving on! Tonight, we have some more 4CW action for you all watching at home as we’re just coming off Fright Night two weeks ago.”

VASSA: ”There weren’t a ton of matches on the card, holy shit was it a night to remember.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed it is. In their best of seven series, Chris Madison defeated Jason Cashe in a parking lot brawl taking his lead to two wins over Cashe’s zero.”

VASSA: ”Those two beat the hell out of one another in that parking lot and I’m sure the insurance companies were loving the claims made the following morning with the damaged vehicles that came with it.”

JOHNSON: ”After that, we watched as Mariano Fernandez put the Pride Championship on the line against Cartier.”

VASSA: ”And for those of you who don’t know, my girl Cartier brought home the gold!”

JOHNSON: ”Brought it home? So you two are living together now?”

VASSA: ”I didn’t mean that but I wish! What I meant was we have a new Pride Champion and her name is CCAARRTTIIEERR!!!”

JOHNSON: ”She gave Mariano one hell of a match and in the end, he just wasn’t able to capitalize and defend the championship.”

VASSA: ”Then fast forward to the third match of the evening, we watched as Edga–Eddy Poe stepped inside of the ring with the reigning North American Champion, Elijah Carlson.”

JOHNSON: ”He gave it his all after being hand picked by Eli but when the dust finally settled, it was Eli who left Fright Night still champion.”

VASSA: ”Then we had our main event, which you all saw a clip from as we opened the program with. The Warzone of Horrors featured ten wrestlers this year but it was only one who was able to grab that 4CW Championship from above the cage, claiming the throne when it was all said and done.”

JOHNSON: ”That one person who just so happens to be Bryan Laughlin. The same Bryan Laughlin who defended the 4CW Championship throughout the entire South Beach Brawl Cup.”

VASSA: ”He’s making a strong case for himself with the Hall of Fame bids right around the corner. Not only is he the only person to defend the championship throughout the entire South Beach Brawl Cup, but he’s now the only person to defend the championship in the Warzone of Horrors with the belt hanging high above the cage.”

JOHNSON: ”He did the unthinkable, everyone in that match did for that matter. They left a wake of wreckage behind them, everyone involved in the match.”

VASSA: ”According to legend, they’re still cleaning up the mess as we speak!”

JOHNSON: ”So to conclude, one championship changed hands, the Pride Championship, while the North American and 4CW Championships left with the AT&T Center same people they entered the arena with.”

VASSA: ”It was a fun night, and not we move forward along the road to Winter Wasteland.”

JOHNSON: ”Not only do we move towards Winter Wasteland, but we also move towards a new era at the booth.”

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ! You’re really going to go through with this, aren’t you?”

JOHNSON: ”I am. It’s inevitable at this point and long overdue.”

VASSA: ”Whoever is filling your head with these lies deserves to die!”

JOHNSON: ”Take that up with management and doctors.”

VASSA: ”Folks… tonight we bring you some heartbreaking news following Fright Night and the after party.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny! It has nothing to do with the after party! That was only indigestion.”

VASSA: ”He says while turning red in the face and falling to the floor clutching his heart the entire time.”

JOHNSON: ”For those of you who don’t know, and not many do, tonight will be my last night at the booth calling a 4CW event, or any event for that matter.”

VASSA: ”Tell me this is all just one big prank.”

JOHNSON: ”I wish I could, but unfortunately that is not the case. After everyone at the after party blew everything out of proportion, I’ve been spending the last two weeks getting tested and prodded by doctors.”

VASSA: ”You mean pegged, right?”

JOHNSON: ”As you’ve mentioned time and time again, that’s a job more suitable for Mariano Fernandez.”

VASSA: ”Touche.”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve been living this lifestyle on the road for many years and some think it’s finally caught up with me.”

VASSA: ”Some think? You literally had a heart attack and managed to keep it quiet all this time because you have too much pride to admit that you’re getting too old for this job.”

JOHNSON: ”I told you! It wasn’t a heart attack, it was indigestion.”

VASSA: ”So what did the doctors say?”

JOHNSON: ”To be short, they forced my hand into retirement. Management won’t listen to me, only listening to them. I have become too much of a liability here at the booth.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know about all that. I think management just wants to take precautions and not have someone drop dead on live television because they’re older than Jesus Christ himself.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re going to miss me when I’m gone.”

VASSA: ”Bullshit!”

JOHNSON: ”Oh really?!”

VASSA: ”You know I am! I’m still protesting this move. I can’t call all of the action by myself here at ringside. I need you here with me to help navigate.”

JOHNSON: ”I hate to be the one to tell you, but that just isn’t going to be possible following tonight’s Adrenaline. Hell, they wanted to force me to sit this one out but I refused to lay down and give up my life long dream without at least one more show.”

VASSA: ”It’s truly unfortunate knowing that tonight is your last night calling a match. I’m going to miss making you the butt of every joke and I just hope whoever they replace you with at least has a sense of humor.”

JOHNSON: ”For your sake I hope they do as well.”

VASSA: ”Do you have any idea who they’re replacing you with?”

JOHNSON: ”No clue. I was hoping to sit in on the interviews but apparently some of those are taking place here tonight while we call the show.”

VASSA: ”Of course that lazy fuck, Perry, would hold interviews on the same night as a show so he doesn’t have to go to the office during the week.”

JOHNSON: ”As a matter of fact, I’ve heard of three possible names for the position.”

VASSA: ”Who are they?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not allowed to say.”

VASSA: ”Just go ahead and say it! What are they going to do? Fire you?”

JOHNSON: ”No, they won’t fire me, but out of respect for this company that I love, I will do as requested.”

VASSA: ”You’re only saying that for the severance package they’re giving you.”

JOHNSON: ”I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.”

VASSA: ”Just don’t forget about your friend here at the booth.”

JOHNSON: ”Would you be saying that if money wasn’t now the topic?”

VASSA: ”Absolutely!”

JOHNSON: ”I highly doubt that.”

VASSA: ”It’s going to be different without you here at the booth. Change is always inevitable but damnit, I hate it!”

JOHNSON: ”There’s no need to get yourself worked up over it. We still have a whole show to call from the booth.”

VASSA: ”It will be our last night together.”

JOHNSON: ”Now you’re just making this awkward. Are you crying?”

VASSA: ”NO!!! I just have something in my eye and it’s making me tear up.”

JOHNSON: ”While you get yourself situated, let’s go ahead and cut backstage before we kick off tonight with our opening match.”

VASSA: ”Would you happen to have a tissue handy?”

Yes, he was starting to cry somewhat as he held back the tears. Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, Steve pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to Vinny who instantly grabs it and begins wiping the tears from his eyes. He tries to conceal himself but it’s too late. The camera is locked on him and now the entire world can see Vinny in his emotional state. Holding his hand up in front of the camera to block his face, Vinny continues to wipe his eyes as the scene slowly fades out.

The picture cuts backstage where we find a long line of unknown people standing outside of the door belonging to the makeshift office of Perry Wallace for the evening. They’re all dressed in suits, looking as if they were about to walk into a job interview. Skipping ahead to the front of the line, American Tommy comes into the picture. He draws a negative reaction from everyone waiting in line as he skips to the front.

TOMMY: “Out of my way, dweebs. If any of you think you have a shot at this over me your mom’s a ho.”

Tommy straps on his boot before entering Perry’s office and swings open the door. A poor lost soul sits in the chair opposite of Perry as both their attentions turn towards American Tommy. Tommy points to the kid and points to the door.

TOMMY: “Out”

LAD: “But…”

The lad looks at Perry who just shrugs and he turns back towards Tommy.

TOMMY: “What makes you think you are going to get this job over me?”

The man walks over to Tommy and hands him his resume like Tommy is even going to read it.

LAD: “As you can see I have five years expierience…”

TOMMY: “I have no experience, but I’m American Tommy. Get the fuck out of here.”

Tommy throws his resume out the door and as the lad goes to fetch it, Tommy slams the door behind him. He walks over to Perry’s desk and sits down in the now empty chair.

TOMMY: “You want an application you fat twat?”

Tommy pulls a green crayon out of his shirt pocket and licks the tip of it. He grabs a sheet of paper and writes “I’m American Tommy” in huge letters that even Wallace could read. He folds the piece of paper into an airplane and sends it Perry’s way, who catches it and crumples it before throwing it in the trash.

WALLACE: “Do you not know how to fucking knock?”

Shaking his head, Perry then reaches underneath his desk and pulls out a bottle of scotch and an empty glass.

WALLACE: “Now what’s so goddamn important that you feel the need to kick the door down instead of knocking? And let me also add to that with your quote unquote injured foot.”

Holding his hands up by his head, Perry does the little quote hand gesture with his fingers. He then proceeds to pour himself a glass before setting the bottle aside and leaning back in his chair for the evening. Tommy swipes the bottle from the desk and takes a drink, before putting his booted foot up on the desk so Perry can see it.

TOMMY: “Don’t get too comfortable there, mate. I’m not your match on Grindr.”

Balling his fist, Perry quickly leans up from his comfortable position only to swing his hand and slam it against the boot on Tommy’s foot who grimaces in pain.

WALLACE: “Show me the x-ray you little shit. Anyone can put a boot on their foot and pretend to be a cripple like Drew Stevenson.”

TOMMY: “You dumb twat, it actually is hurt. What you trying to do put me out a few more years!?”

Tommy takes a swig of the scotch and his face says everything about the quality of it. He wipes his mouth with his shirt and points at Perry.

TOMMY: “You know why I’m here. I want Johnson’s job.”

WALLACE: “I do in fact and I also wouldn’t be too worried about whether you’re hurt for two weeks or two years. Either way you’ll still be under lifetime contract. As for the job, I can definitely give you a job around here. I might as well get some use out of you since you’re under contract.”

Tommy laughs and shrugs.

TOMMY: “That’s your fault that I get paid whether I’m here or not. But I’m here because I’m bored of doing nothing. It seems fun, you know, with the girlfriend and all, but you go a bit stir crazy. You know how that is, being that you have nothing going on up in the noggin’ of yours.”

Perry chuckles softly as he leans back once more in his seat. Not taking anymore chances, he quickly pulls a flask from his coat pocket, takes a drink and returns it to his pocket before Tommy can get any.

WALLACE: “How is that new girlfriend of yours anyway? She hasn’t ran off and gotten herself pregnant by Zeel has she?”

TOMMY: “She’s fine. She’s healing and if she did it wouldn’t be any of your concern. How’d 8 Corners go? But, let’s not get into that because I don’t want to lisgen to you cry. Let’s get back to this job. Do I got it? ”

WALLACE: “I understand how you feel. I felt the same way when 4CW was on summer break. I tried to fill that gap with 8 Corners but we all know MMA is fake and nobody really cares to watch that. So you get bored at home. You get bored coming here not even competing but only because you’re on a life… time… contract. You need something to keep yourself occupied, I get it.”

Tommy shakes his head in annoyance.

TOMMY: “Give me the fucking job, Perry. Who else would do a better job?”

And just like that, Perry nodded his head.

WALLACE: “Fine, stop twisting my arm. I’ll give you some purpose here and give you an actual job to perform your obligatory duties under contract.”

Tommy nods his head in agreement.

TOMMY: “Good, I want to sit on the right side, because that’s my best side, but now that I think about it my dimples show more on the left. You know what. It doesn’t really matter because I’m one good looking lad from either side. Just make sure my chair spins.”

The fat man chuckled once more before leaning up in his seat and extending a hand shake to Tommy.

WALLACE: “Deal.”

Tommy reaches over the desk and shakes Perry’s hand.

TOMMY: “When do I start?”

WALLACE: “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. I still have a line at the door of people scheduled for an interview.”

Tommy shakes his head.

TOMMY: “interview them for what? You just hired me!”

Perry appears to panic a bit and after a short hesitation, he responds to Tommy in an upbeat tone.

WALLACE: “This is a different job! That line you see at the door is for an assistant position… an assistant position for Ste—I mean Mike Powers! He’s got a lot on his plate and has been in need of some assistance.”

Tommy stands up and nods.

TOMMY: “Find one of those fucks to be my assistant to. You know, since I’m a cripple and all. Someone needs to carry my shit out to that desk.”

Pretending to agree with Tommy, Perry just nods along before standing up from his seat.

WALLACE: “I’ll get right on that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some more interviews to get to because I’m not doing this at the office. I have other shit I could be doing on every other night that a 4CW event doesn’t fall on.”

Tommy heads to the door, but turns around before leaving to acknowledge Perry’s statement.

TOMMY: ”Like getting your ass kicked in COD you camping bitch?!”

WALLACE: “Camping behind my wife’s big beautiful ass and having dinner!”

TOMMY: “I’m not interested in hearing about your poo stache.”

Tommy walks out the door and sees a hall with nobody in it, but Ch’ang Dong-Geun. He does a double take and it really is the young god, dressed in his one of many Beavis and Butthead shirts with the Wrestling World Hollywood Heritage Heavyweight Championship title belt over his shoulder. He’s taken aback.

TOMMY: “Uh, what are you doing here?”

DONG-GEUN: “I give everyone stand in line one hundred dollar bill come back in hour. Fat man take credit for Young God work, I teach him lesson.”

He then turns his head to the side and looks directly into the camera.

DONG-GEUN: “Liu Chang versus world tour come soon city near you.”

He then points to the camera before looking back to Tommy and giving him his attention.

TOMMY: “I could beat you.”

DONG-GEUN: “You not even beat this dick. I am undefeated greatest goat all time.”

TOMMY: “Why is the GOAT here at Adrenaline though?”

Ch’ang looks to the door of the office briefly before looking back at Tommy.

DONG-GEUN: “Fat man take credit for Young God work, I teach him lesson. Now my turn ask question. Do you know why Zeel Park really put finger inside Kimitsu Zombie?”

TOMMY: “Who knows why he does anything really?”

DONG-GEUN: “Him high five baby in Kimitsu Zombie belly. Her will grow big like fat man on other side of door. In the end, you win American Tommy.”

Tommy laughs and shakes his head.

TOMMY: “That would mean her child is mine and it’s not, Ch’ang.”

DONG-GEUN: “I not understand.”

Tommy chuckles and slows it down.

TOMMY: “It’s not my kid.”

DONG-GEUN: “Nobody say it were, cuckhold.”

Tommy rolls his eyes and walks away leaving Ch’ang standing there laughing.

DONG-GEUN: “I only play American Tommy. Wait up.”

Forgetting his whole purpose for even being there in the first place, Ch’ang then follows behind Tommy, probably talking about Twitter lesbians and everyone being big babies last week. Who knows really as Tommy just laughs and nods his head in agreement at the GOAT.



The lights in the arena go black, the video board plays a black and white clip of Beau Von Braun lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag before the image turns completely into smoke.

“Oh, my God, please help me—”
“Knee-deep in the river tryin’ to get clean.”

Hit the heavy drum as ‘Bartholomew” by the Silent Comedy continues to echo out over the arena. The gospel sounding song brings out all three Von Braun brothers, lead by none other than Beau who is wearing a red jacket over his muscular chest and a matching pair of red tinted sunglasses. To his right is his brother Brady and to the left is his other brother Brian, or maybe that’s the other way around, hard to tell as they are twins. Brady and Brian sport silver and black silk vests over black collared shirts and silver ties, the sleeves of their shirts have been rolled up because they’re probably looking for a fight here tonight. The blonde haired Beau leads his two brothers towards the ring making sure not to give even the lightest acknowledgement to any member of the audience.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring at this time, lead to the ring by his brothers Brady and Brian… standing in at six feet three inches and weighing in at two hundred and forty two pounds, he is the ‘LAST SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN’… BEAU VON BBRRAAUUNN!!!”

Just as soon as Mike Powers says that last bit, Beau spits in disgust towards the crowd as he pulls himself up into the ring. He shoos away the referee and then carefully hands over his jacket and glasses to one of his two brothers as he starts in with a last minute pre-match stretching routine. Beau heads back over towards his two brothers who are up on the apron and the trio begin discussing strategy, and possibly passing each other weapons for this match.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The Sudden Blare of Guitar shreds through the air as the opening chords to “DEVIL by Shinedown”, and when the song kicks into gear Edgar Malcovich enters the arena in his wrestling gear, plus a sleeveless pullover hoodie.

POWERS: ”From Detroit Michigan, weighing in at two hundred forty-three pounds, he is ‘The Man Behind The Mask’… EDGAR MMAALLCCOOVVIICCHH!!!”

Eddy walks down to the ring, no taunting or extra dramatics, maybe interacting with a fan or two as he circles the ring like a hungry predator before sliding in and running over to the ropes. He dead stops at the ropes and pulls down his hood, slitting his throat with his thumb while leaving against the top rope.

JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to the booth ladies and gentlemen. Kicking the night off, we have Beau Von Braun taking on Edgar Malcovich right here on Adrenaline.”

VASSA: ”Both men are coming off tough losses from Fright Night and ant to get on track. This is the first Adrenaline heading into Winter Wasteland and I can’t think of a better time for either man to make a statement here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Edgar challenged Eli for the North American Championship at Fright Night but was unable to defeat him and Beau, he entered the Warzone of Horrors and put his body on the line only for Laughlin to retain when it was all said and done.”

VASSA: ”Both men are hungry for their first win in 4CW and unfortunately only one can leave here tonight with said win.”

After checking in with both corners, the official wastes no time and quickly calls for the bell.


The match starts out with our favorite Southern Gentlemen, Beau Von Bran giving the audience a rather formal bow, turning his back to Edgar. Beau then instantly breaks the debutant foreplay and raises two middle fingers to the audience, ooo-wee did that get them mad. As Beau smirked to himself, extremely proud of his control of the audience, he then turns around and eats a sickening flying running knee strike directly between the eyes.

VASSA: ”You might want to pay attention Beau because Eddy didn’t come here tonight to play around.”

Beau flips over the top rope, landing on his two brothers in what some could call a comical fashion. Beau seems to be knocked out cold, and it’s up to his two brothers to lift his dead weight having ass up, rolling him into the ring to a very ready Edgar, who grabs goes to grab beau by the head, but wait! That southern boy must have been playing possum because he hooks Ed’s head and locks him in a cradle going for the pin, but Ed kicks out quickly at one. The two men get back to their feet, Beau first as he shoots forward and lands a dropkick to Edgar’s knee, flinging him face first into the mat.

JOHNSON: ”And just like that, Edgar eats a mouthful of canvas!”

VASSA: ”Beau was fooling him all along! If having to worry about two siblings at ringside wasn’t enough, Eddy also has to worry about the tricks from Beau.”

Ed is quick to try and get back up to his feet but he is met by some vicious stomps by Beau, one after another – some to the back of the head and others to the spine until Edgar is sprawled out on the mat like a bug. It’s then that Beau turns his attention back to the audience, while he rubs his head he laughs at them, as if they where nothing and he was everything. This goes on for a few moments before he turns back to Edgar and flips him over onto his back, he then does the most gentlemanly thing he can think of… And Steps on his crotch, something he calls the gas pedal. The referee is quick to pull Beau off of Edgar, but the damage it would seem had been done, as Malkovich grabs his groin in agony. Beau gives himself a pat on the back before grabbing a handful of Ed’s hair and dragging him up to his feet.

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ, Beau took it upon himself to use Eddy’s nuts as a floor mat to wipe his feet!”

JOHNSON: ”And the official isn’t having any of it. If beau keeps this up he’s going to find himself disqualified here tonight.”

It’s at this point where something in Edgar snaps, as he starts to throw blow after blow at Beau’s midsection. Finally pushing the southern boy off of him, Ed shoots up to his feet and grabs Beau by the ears. He then starts to smash knee after muay thai knee into the face of Beau, truly brutalizing him in the process. Ed then wraps his arm around Beau’s neck and suplexes him onto the mat – rolling through the suplex to mount position where the blows just keep on coming. Ed is attacking Beau like a precision killing machine, rocking his jaw with forearm after forearm. Finally the referee has to pull Edgar off of Beau, giving him a warning to calm down. Beau looks like a beaten mess, blood flowing from his nose and lip as well as bruising around his forehead area.

JOHNSON: ”I would have reacted the same way if Beau used my crotch as a floor mat.”

VASSA: ”Who are you kidding, old man?! You and everyone else here knows that you don’t have any feeling down there.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh it works down there, trust me, but this isn’t the time or place to get into this discussion.”

VASSA: ”What do you need, like thirty minutes to an hour for that little blue pill to kick in?”

Edgar goes to pick up Beau, but Beau pushes Edgar backwards, into the referee – smashing him into the corner. You could see somewhat of concern on the face of Ed, but he has no time to see if he is okay as Beau gets to his feet and throws himself at Edgar – who dodges at the last possible second. Beau goes to turn around and attack once again but is met with a high kick to the face which knocks him out cold.

JOHNSON: ”Down goes Be–“


JOHNSON: ”Here come the brothers!”

Edgar now goes over to the referee and tries to revive him, and that’s when the Von Braun twins hit the ring! They fling themselves at Edgar who somehow manages to fight them off, pushing one back against the ropes and hitting him with a head-cleaving clothesline from hell. Ed keeps the momentum going as he himself bounces off the ropes and hits the other twin with another clothesline from hell! With the Von Braun twins laid out Ed turns his attention back to Beau, he grabs him by the back of the neck and BAM! Beau hits him with a low blow unnoticed by the official! He then rolls him up into a small package pin!

JOHNSON: ”Beau with a little Southern Hospitality!”

VASSA: ”Can he keep Eddy down for the three count?!”

Racing over beside them, the official slides in with the count.



POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… BEAU VON BBRRAAUUNN!!!”

The cameras are moving around backstage. Curious to find anyone of value or importance. Bored out of their minds. Speaking of Bored out of their minds. The cameras find Toby Wagner backstage talking with his older sister Antoinette Wagner. He seems completely disinterested in what she’s going on about to anyone to pay attention past his fake smile. Antoinette seems to pick up on it and rolls her eyes before lightly slapping her brother’s shoulder.

A. WAGNER “Lighten up Toby. You’re always such a sourpuss. Frowning all the time will give you wrinkles.”

Toby rolled his eyes back at his sister. He shook his head and stared off down the hallway. Watching the 4CW crew members walk by without so much as a second glance at him. Not that he was complaining.

T. WAGNER: “I don’t really give a shit about wrinkles. Have you seen my face?! My body?! I’m sure the last thing people are going to notice about me Netty is some fucking wrinkles on my face. They’ll notice all the scars and think somehow I did this to myself.”

Antoinette sighed and crossed her arms over her chest as she glared daggers into her little brother.

A. WAGNER: “Well Technically Tobias you did do that to yourself. NOBODY TOLD YOU TO THROW YOURSELF OFF A CAGE INTO WOOD AND GLASS AND DEATH.”

Her voice was raised so much that even the people who walked by were starting to take notice. Toby bit his lip in annoyance. Probably thinking about when he could take his next cigarette break, or just leave altogether.

T. WAGNER: “Keep your voice down. I get it. You giving me this lecture for the twenth time isn’t going to do much more for you than the first times you said it. I meant what I said. I will do whatever I have to to be able to showcase my talents, and deliver that kind of brutality in this company whenever and however I want and do you know how I’m gonna have to do that?! By becoming a champion. Doesn’t matter which one. I’ve seen how shit works here. You become a champion. You make the rules. You have the power. I will carve a bloody path through this company with blood, sweat, and tears.”

Antoinette seemed horrified but then unamused by her brother’s rant in that moment. She slapped him with the small clutch in his hand.

A. WAGNER: “Don’t send your family to an early grave like that. Toby I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I want you to succeed and I fully support what you’re doing here but… Maybe you should go back to seeing the family shrink Doctor Davis.”

T. WAGNER: “I don’t need a god damn shrink. I’ve got my therapy right here. You took away all of my coke, and are seriously testing my patience with the alcohol thing…. Don’t be mad when I find more creative ways to be happy. You have your shit and I have mine. Now I have to go punt a bitches head through the mat. I’ll see you at Hedonica later.”

Toby went to walk away and Antoinette cleared her throat. He stopped in his tracks with a sigh but turned around to hear her out.

A. WAGNER: “Tobias. I saw your tweet today. I look forward to seeing you there tonight, but it gave me a marvelous idea. I’m going to be calling your agent and arranging a little meet and greet at Hedonica for 4CW fans to come out and take pictures and get your autograph. A special daytime. FAMILY FRIENDLY event I will host.”

The color drained from Toby’s face. His expression dropped and he shook his head angrily. His hands balling up into fists as Antoinette pulled her phone out and started looking through her contacts.

T. WAGNER: “NO. I will not do that…Antoinette hang up that phone right now.”

His sister held a finger up and ignored her brother as she waited until she got an answer and happily started pitching her plan together over the phone.

T. WAGNER: “You tell Nora if she fucking books it I won’t show up. I swear to god Antoinette. Don’t fucking do it.”

Antoinette rolled her eyes and laughed as she took her ear off the phone.

A. WAGNER: “Harrison said you’ll do what your told because that’s what your contract states and you will be on time and Nora thinks it’s a wonderful idea so it’s happening. Now I have a lot to do and plan, and you said you have some things to do yourself so I’ll see you later tonight. Good Luck Toby. Kisses.”

Antoinette went to give her brother a kiss on the cheek but Toby was so pissed off he drew back from her and turned on his heels away from her marching towards the direction of the ring as his sister headed for the exit. His hands balled up into fists and a look of pure rage on his face.



“Confutatis maledictis
Confutatis maledictis
Tragedy storms him when demons spare her life
And all discover she has a demonheart

With those words “Demonheart” blasts out and The Red★Jester burst out from the black curtains with a lengthy mallet dragging behind her. With a huge smile on her face Jester heads down the ramp, arrive at ringside and sit on the apron. The mallet swings around clockwise and lands across her shoulders with a thud yet she simply smiles.

POWERS: ”Currently sitting on the apron…standing in at five foot seven inches and weighing in at one hundred and thirty nine pounds…she is…THE RED JJEESSTTEERR!!!”

Once her name is announced as she allows her weapon to rest for a moment before she rolls backwards over the bottom rope and lands into the ring in a lotus position an even brighter smile as the mallet rests across her lap as she waits for her opponent.

The arena darkens as “Rockstar 101” by Rihanna begins to play before the camera takes us behind a woman with purple hair. She steps out onto the stage, raising her hand and making a fist as the camera looks over her shoulder. She tosses her sunglasses on her head out to the crowd as she heads towards the ring.

“Rocking these diamonds
I’m rocking this chain
Make sure you get a picture
I’m rocking my fame”

POWERS: ”Introducing from Atlanta, Georgia, this is the Princess of the Reed family and the reigning, defending 4CW Tag Team Champion… BIANCA RREEEEDD!!!”

Bianca climbs up onto the apron, drops into a split before sliding under the bottom rope to the inside. She brings her legs together and hops to her feet, already making eye contact with her opponent and running them down verbally while her music fades and before the bell even rings.


The bell had rung moments ago but the women moved lightly around the ring with not going full throttle at each other just yet. It was as if the women were taking inventory of each other with checking the other out, trying to see if they could get a good read on the other before getting up close and getting to it. Red Jester seemed to be a big ball of mystery but Bianca swore that she wasn’t getting got by no newbie tonight as she begins bouncing from foot to foot, ready to rumble. Red Jester invites Bianca to come closer and Bianca takes a cautious step forward, showing that she isn’t afraid but also knowing not to run into this blindly. Once she’s close enough to Red Jester, she quickly backs up two steps when Red Jester flinches forward in an effort to fake Bianca out. Amused by this, Red Jester can’t hide the grin on her face as Bianca shrugs, turns like she’s about to run for the ropes but quickly spins around to dropkick an advancing Red Jester. Now it’s Bianca’s turn to grin with a “Look who’s laughing now” expression.

JOHNSON: ”The newcomer is making quite a debut tonight as Red Jester shows what she’s got against Bianca. A great counter by Red Jester as she fakes left and moves to the back of Bianca to drill her foot into her calf.”

VASSA: ”Are we really about to call this bootleg Harley Quinn, “Red Jester” this entire match? Halloween is over and she’s weeks late for Fright Night.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny, how are you judging a book by it’s cover when the book is opened and the content is great?”

VASSA: ”You’re right, she does got a nice backside and those tits sit up right.”

The superkick came in strong from Bianca but Red Jester impulsively jumped back and grabbed Bianca’s ankle, getting a good grip on it before yanking it aggressively that had Bianca almost losing her balance as she jolted forward. Red Jester quickly moved so that she was behind Bianca and had to act quick so that the hair pull backbreaker was capitalized without any issue. With Bianca on her stomach, Red Jester jumps into the air and puts all of her weight down into slamming her knees into Bianca’s back like a madwoman, going for a second time for good measure before she straightened up while watching Bianca roll over to her back. With a smile, Red Jester added to Bianca’s pain with a rolling leg snap and knew that it was only a matter of time before she got the win in her first 4CW match. That seemed to change with a foot slamming into her face when she had bent down to grab Bianca’s other leg and ended up kicked right in the face.

VASSA: ”Damn, now her nose is about to be crooked. I’m not much for butterfaces but you don’t have to look at them if they’re on their knees down below-“

JOHNSON: ”Vinny.”

Johnson shoots his partner a silencing look before he returns his gaze back to the match to commentate it while Vassa just shakes his head at Bianca continuing to hit Red Jester in the face. After two elbows in the face that forced Red Jester a couple of steps back, Bianca finally got that superkick in that puts Red Jester on her back. But Red Jester refuses to stay down, quickly scrambling to her feet with not wanting to be pinned. She charges Bianca who knees her in the stomach and then gives her a strong european uppercut that puts Red Jester on her knees as Bianca backs up quickly with a smile, dashes forward and….

JOHNSON: ”ENZUIGIRI! Bianca bouncing back from Red Jester controlling the match and now is the controller as she attempts a dragon sleeper on Red Jester but Red Jester is putting up one hell of a fight to not have the submission locked in.”

VASSA: ”Do you think Red Jester dressed up for Halloween or went as herself?”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny.”

Bianca was trying her best to attempt various submission holds but Red Jester wasn’t having it, moving about more than a flopping fish wanting to get dropped back into the water as Bianca finally just gives up on the holds and stomps down real hard on Red Jester’s right arm before pulling away when Red Jester begins kicking at her like crazy. Bianca waits for her to get finished like watching a toddler throw a tantrum before she dares to get closer…. only for Red Jester to pop up, grab Bianca’s left hand and pull down on it so she can bite down hard on her index finger. Caught completely off guard, Bianca screams out as Red Jester rises to her feet fully and irish whips Bianca. Bianca goes running to the ropes while holding her throbbing finger and on the way back, she’s knocked to the mat when Red Jester leaps into the air and slams her ass into the face of Bianca.

VASSA: ”Biting and ass in the face… she’s a kinky one, ain’t she?”

JOHNSON: ”Red Jester reclaiming her control in the match as she’s now…. skipping around the fallen Bianca and appears proud of herself.”

VASSA: ”I’m proud that her nose doesn’t look crooked.”

Getting ahead of herself with thinking she has this match in the bag, she has Bianca positioned for the Last Laugh but things don’t go according to plan because Bianca begins fighting back like crazy to break free from Red Jester, finally succeeding as she puts space between her and Red Jester… until she’s charged at and then Bianca has to move fast with a clothesline to halt Red Jester in place. Once Red Jester’s body hits the mat, Bianca hurries to climb the turnbuckle as she waits patiently from above as Red Jester is slowly beginning to get onto her feet. As soon as she turns around, Bianca leaps off the turnbuckle with her Cracker Jacker and quickly goes for the cover afterwards.



POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… BIANCA RREEEEDD!!!”

MORRISON: “Do we really need to keep going through with this?”

Frankie Morrison stood tall; his hoarse voice cutting the silence inside of Chris Madison’s locker room. Madison sat on a steel folding chair next to him, bent forward as he laced up his wrestling boots. Madison stopped what he was doing and sat upright, looking up towards his manager.

MADISON: “You do realize that this could just be the beginnin’, right? I mean I know Cashe hasn’t quite been himself lately, but writing him off could be just the openin’ he needs in order to turn things around.”

MORRISON: “Come on Chris… I know you love the guy like a brother, but the two of you are worlds apart when it comes to ability. I honestly think he’s lost it. He’s come to you, expecting you to put him out of his misery. That’s what this is… They guy doesn’t know how to walk away and is looking for you to do the job for him. It’s actually kind of pathetic.”

Madison shook his head, disagreeing with his managers outlook on the best of seven series that he was inundated with. He bent forward and finished lacing up his boots before letting out an exasperated sigh.

MORRISON: “All I’m saying is that you could be doing more with your time then beating Cashe over and over again. I mean, he wasn’t wrong… This series tied you up at Fright Night when maybe you could have been giving Eli an actual challenge for his North American Championship…”

Madison’s eyes lit up, just for a moment as he processed Morrison’s suggestion.

MADISON: “Not until I’m done with Cashe. I don’t know what’s in store for me after this is all said and done. Honestly, it’s the last thing on my mind. Whatever his motives, Cashe asked for this. Whether he’s testin’ himself, crossin’ a match off of his bucket list, hopin’ to reignite a fire within, or lookin’ for someone to bury him, he’s gettin’ one hundred percent of my attention.”

MORRISON: “I’m just saying…”

MADISON: “But you don’t need to be. You might think this is all just a waste of our time, but this means just as much to me as it does Cashe. This series is a way for me to show 4CW fans that I’m back to bein’ that dominatin’ machine that they all grew to respect. This knee…”

Madison his surgically repaired knee before pulling his knee pad up to cover it.

MADISON: “…is one hundred percent and ready to rock! No restrictions… No limits…”

Morrison’s head swayed as he placed his hands on his hips, pushing the bottom of his suit jacket off to the side.

MORRISON: “Well, can we at least dial it back a bit? I mean a Parking Lot Brawl, now a Dog Collar Match, it’s like you’re tempting fate with these matches. I don’t even want to think about what you have in mind for the next match after you win tonight.”

MADISON: “If I win tonight…”

Morrison’s shoulders slouched and his head instantly bowed. He huffed before finally acknowledging the possibility of defeat.

MORRISON: “Fine… If you win tonight.”

MADISON: “Don’t know. Hasn’t even crossed my mind. But if I win, and the sweep is on the table, you better believe that it’s goin’ to be an all out war!”

The melody of ‘Low Life’ by Crobot began to blare through the arena after the Bianca Reed and Red star emoji Jester match and the lights dimmed down. Only for an animal sized coffin to appear on stage and Brennan Devlin to wander out by it much to the disdain of the audience at large. Soon, Brennan dumped some sort of lighter fluid on the coffin and struck a match.

JOHNSON: ”Oh no! He can’t do that, the remains of Madman Szalinski’s dog are in that coffin! The ultimate act of disrespect from Brennan Devlin!”

VASSA: ”Well whether you like it or not, it seems like he’s gonna…”

With a flick of his wrist, the coffin went up in a blaze as Devlin began to wander down the stage. Brennan walked along, his white jacket and matching pants adorned with various logos featuring his different nicknames and he seemed to be enjoying taunting the disgusted crowd. Eventually, he made it into the ringside area and hopped up onto the apron, quickly ducking between the ropes and into the ring. Once inside, he retrieved a microphone and glanced into the crowd as his music faded He was bombarded with ‘Weed Football!’ chants which seemed to make him grimace as he took a microphone.

DEVLIN: ”Quiet, quiet, quiet…”

He tried to hush them but the chants grew stronger, much to his chagrin.

DEVLIN: ”I came out here tonight to talk seriously with all of you people about something that has been affecting me since the Warzone of Horrors… I discussed it with various confidantes of mine throughout the evening, with my doctors, and more and we’ve all came to the conclusion that I just cannot continue on like this any longer.”

JOHNSON: ”He’s leaving again?!”

VASSA: ”Anytime there is any adversity he…”

Devlin lifted the microphone up again, a more somber expression taking over. He glared out towards the crowd with hatred.

DEVLIN: ”In spite of my misgivings, I allowed myself to sit through your pandering, I even pushed it forward. I allowed myself to be lessened by your idiocy but that will occur no longer, fuck the 4CW fanbase. You pick Bryan Laughlin, you pick Ana, even though I take the show fucking hostage and blind the entire roster in the light of my gloriousness every time I step foot in this ring. I’ve beaten almost everyone there is to beat except Bryan Laughlin… So it is with a heavy heart that I…”

Brennan stopped, almost choking up as the fans started to turn back around.

DEVLIN: ”I announce that I will never reference the words ‘weed’ or ‘football’ ever again until the day comes that I am 4CW Champion.”

A stunned silence fell over the crowd, people had no clue what to say. A large gentleman in the crowd just stared straight ahead in shock as the cameras caught this face and many more. Brennan dropped the microphone, a look of disgust on his face as he wandered out of the ring and began to exit.

JOHNSON: ”What have we done?”

VASSA: ”We’ll try to get everything settled down here in the arena and return after the break.”

The scene faded into a brief break with a sweating gentleman whose eyes looked like they may bug out of his head due to shock. People hugging and consoling one another and more.

Backstage, the camera shows DA #TROLL GUY Mariano Fernandez pacing back and forth in an empty hallway. A few equipment crates and reflectors are his only company against the white brick wall in front of which he stands. Once the notices the camera rolling, he stands in place, and leans against it, speaking slowly and calmly.

FERNANDEZ: “Today is the beginning of a new story, mang.”

DA #TROLL GUY turns his face up, listening to the vague, distant murmur outside, then back at the camera again, a visible air of concentration about his face.

FERNANDEZ: “Today is the first step on the road to redemption. It’s the road of redemption because we’re coming straight off Fright Night, and I intend to make it to Winter Wasteland for the Pride Title I lost, or better, if such an opportunity comes my way. It is the road to redemption because I face someone who has already beaten me elsewhere in Bexs Thoreau.”

This time, Mariano gives the camera a stern glance- a stone-faced expression and an icy look in his eyes. He points at the camera, almost as if his finger were to pierce the glass of the lens.

FERNANDEZ: “I say that one word knowing fully what it means, Bexs. From god damned past experience and from example itself, god DAMN if I don’t. It means going that extra mile to put in the hard work again. It means making the hard sacrifices, bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders ever pressing down and threatening to crush you one more time until you can finally SHRUG it off. Because I have done it, Bexs. After this Adrenaline I’m going to do it again, and you’re going to be the person that FIRST sees it, because it’s going to happen in front of your very eyes, and over your own god damned self. You know what it DOESN’T mean, however?”

Mariano looks at the camera again, and raises an eyebrow. A wolfish snarl steals his look as he grinds the words through his teeth.

FERNANDEZ: “It DOESN’T mean, Bexs, going for the low hanging fruit. It DOESN’T mean doing the videogame shit, and the Smith girls, that everyone else has done a hundred thousand fucking times. Seriously, mang – you MADE the claim to be determined not to try to get into my head and walk away in disappointment. That was FAR from your objective coming into this Adrenaline, and yet… that’s exactly what you did, mang.”

DA #TROLL GUY closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, before opening them up again. When he does, a noticeable mixture of resignation and anger appear on his face.

FERNANDEZ: “I mean, I SAID this was your hometown, Bexs. I SAID these are your people. What you barely even remembered and made a passing mention at, I KNEW from the get go, and I made the point to come at it like I expected you would. You want to talk about disappointments? Look in the god damned mirror, and in the face of every man, woman and child that decides to cheer for their hometown hero tonight, because it was MY “desire to please” that made them care about the match in the first god damned place. They SHOULD have come to see you, Bexs. Instead, they will have come to see ME put you down. THAT should have been your god damned focus, and now you’ll see the mistake you made.”

He sighs in annoyance, looking away at the camera for a brief moment, before facing it again and resuming.

FERNANDEZ: “But of course, that point went completely over your head, and instead you had to go play with god damned BARBIE DOLLS, mang!”

He tries his best to contain a burst of laughter growing from within, raising a hand in apology. The stone-like look in his eyes, however, tells a very different story.

FERNANDEZ: “I mean, I’m sorry, I know you pay attention to relationships and personal lives, but Bexs – did you REALLY have to go there? I ASKED if you had thought it through after you made your god damned fantasy world speech, but did you REALLY had to dig yourself in deeper creating a fantasy about Trixie and I? You’ve just had a major loss, these were your words, and now you had a shot. You said you settled for nothing less than victory, and when the time to show it came… you moved on, Bexs.”

DA #TROLL GUY shrugs, this time confusion in his face. Whether genuine or exaggerated remains unclear.

FERNANDEZ: “You exchanged the opportunity to make a statement in your own city of Chicago for a bunch of pathetic digs at my personal life. I’d point out how ironic that sounds coming from the woman that didn’t tag with her husband at Bad Company, but again – personal lives, mang. Doesn’t matter to me what you do with whom, but what happens inside the ring – especially since, unlike you, I’m coming to WORK for the victory, mang.”

He bangs his fist against his palm, with a loud, audible snap.

FERNANDEZ: “Here and now in Adrenaline I stated I would rebuild as this city once did. Here and now in Adrenaline I talked about the road to redemption, about how I have already done it before and how I will do it again – and at this point, that’s not some god damned fantasy. That has been the past, it’s our CURRENT present, and it’s going to be the FUTURE, from here until Winter Wasteland and beyond that, if need be. Tonight, Bexs Dawson, you finally learn what the meaning of redemption, and rebuilding is. Because you came to burn plastic, but, just like the skyscrapers and monuments that make this city what it is, you’re going to run into stone.”

He bangs his fist against the wall behind him, the sound of hand banging on stone echoing across the deserted hallway.

FERNANDEZ: “And stone, my dear Bexs… does not burn.”

And finally, DA #TROLL GUY turns around and walks away, the camera’s final view of the leather jacket on his back as the feed cuts back to the ring.



“All the good girls go to hell
‘Cause even God herself has enemies
And once the water starts to rise
And heaven’s out of sight
She’ll want the devil on her team”

Brax Clova steps out onto the stage in a swirl of gold and white lights, pausing on the stage for a moment she stares down at the ring as though psyching herself up before making her way down the ramp, pausing to touch hands with fans as she goes.

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring first, from London, England… ‘The Peckham Princess’ BRAX CCLLOOVVAA!!!”

When Brax makes it to the ring, she hops up onto the apron and looks out at the fans one last time before slipping beneath the top rope and moving off to the side to warm up for her match.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The beginning beat of “Bow Down” by I Prevail begins to play as the entrance ramp fills up with smoke from smoke machines.


As soon as the words are screamed Toby Wagner bursts through the curtains to an echo of boos. He stands on the ramp for a minute and rolls his eyes. He looks back to the curtains as if he might actually walk back through before sighing and beginning to walk towards the ramp with minimum energy and enthusiasm.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Chicago, Illinois… TOBY WWAAGGNNEERR!!!”

The boos get louder upon his announcement and Toby smirks but doesn’t address a single one of them as he climbs the steps and steps inside the ring. He doesn’t pose, he doesn’t do anything, besides walk straight to his corner and wave his hand encouraging for them to get on with the match.

The official obliges, getting right down to business and checking in with each corner before the commentary booth can even begin to get a few words in before the bell. With both wrestlers ready, the official quickly calls for the bell, cutting Vassa off just as he opens his big mouth to speak.


Toby Wagner circles Brax Clova in the center of the ring like a predator toying with its prey. Clova doesn’t show any fear so Wagner nods and rushes at her to unleash a flurry of attacks. He feints a punch and throws a Spinning Back Kick. Clova barely dodges but comes up to a Big Boot to the face. She stumbles back to get a Clothesline. Clova pops right back up but Wagner takes her down again with a Lariat.

VASSA: ”Brax just found herself in the one place American Tommy loves to be!”

JOHNSON: ”In the ring with Toby Wagner?”

VASSA: ”Nope! I was referring to his face being right underneath the bottom of someone’s foot!”

Following her to the ground, Wagner starts to pummel Clova with some Mounted Punches. Clova braces herself for some of the strikes. Clova blocks a few punches and kicks off of Wagner to get onto her knees. Wagner stays with her and punches with wanton abandon like a crazy redneck. Clova gets out with a Granby Roll Escape and locks in a Front Chancery. Wagner scurries back to the ropes forcing Clova to back off.

Wagner goes under the ref’s arm to attack immediately before they reset and hits Clova with a kick then a Facebuster. He tries to force on a Rear Naked Choke but Clova keeps her wits about her and slips out from under Wagner to lock in a Scissored Arm Lock. Wagner has to fight to reach the ropes again. He gets his leg on the ropes and when Clova lets go Wagner slips completely out of the ring. The ref tries to get him back in but Wagner waves him off and strolls around the ring.

JOHNSON: ”The match is supposed to take place inside of the ring but Toby appears to have a different game plan.”

VASSA: ”He’s just getting a quick breather and letting things slow down before getting back in the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Is that what he’s doing? Are you positive that’s what he’s doing, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”I mean, I think so. At least that’s how it looks.”

Clova goes over to the ropes to yell something at Wagner and he dashes over to grab her feet first to the outside. Wagner throws Clova against a barricade then follows that up immediately by whipping her against the side of the ring. He then whips her against the corner post. Wagner gives Clova no time to recover as he starts to Choke her against the post with his boot.

JOHNSON: ”It really looks like he’s letting things slow down there, Vin.”

Wagner lets go and just watches as Clova crawls away holding her neck. He lets her get up and runs at her to hit her with a- No! Clova ducks under and throws Wagner over her as he lands on the apron. Clova breaks the count by entering the ring but she ducks back onto the apron. She kips up the second rope and hits a Diving Stomp onto Wagner’s back.

VASSA: ”You see! Now things have slowed down for Toby.”

JOHNSON: ”Only after Brax stomped down onto his back.”

VASSA: ”The point is things have slowed down. I hate to be the one to break it to you Steve, but I’m more than capable of carrying the show without you when you decide to abandon me like the father I never knew in real life.”

Clova sees her chance to end it so she drags Wagner fully into the ring and locks in the Brixton Bridge. Wagner Flails. Clova has his legs locked up and he can’t inch his way to the ropes this time. He refuses to give in and Clova has the move locked in tight. Clova pulls hard forcing Wagner’s neck and back to stretch backward.

JOHNSON: ”Things might be a little too slow for Toby as Brax is completely having her way with him right now.”

VASSA: ”You’re just not going to let this go, are you?”

Wagner brings his hand close to Clova’s face and clutches it trying to get his fingers into her mouth for the Mandible Claw. Clova tries to shake him off and jerks at his head getting him to spasm in pain. He almost taps but as his hand rises again he hooks it at the side of Clova’s lips and pulls. Clova has no choice but to let go lest her face is ripped open.

JOHNSON: ”Fish hooking someone is one way to get yourself out of a tight spot like that.”

VASSA: ”Oh really? What exactly do you know about fish hooking, Steve?”

JOHNSON: ”Toby literally just did that to free himself from the Brixton Bridge and you’re going to sit here and ask me what I know about it?”

VASSA: ”Like I said earlier. Toby was just taking it slow to set Brax up for this exact moment all along!”

Wagner stomps Clova down then goes to the ropes to hit a Diving Meteora smashing Clova with his knees. Wagner throws Clova’s body against the second ropes handing her over them, but Clova steps off and they jostle for position. Clova manages to put Wagner against the ropes and knocks him with a few elbows. She runs against the opposite ropes to come back at him with the Thames by flying through the ropes and locking in a crucifix armbar. Wagner spins however and does not fall. He manages to carry Clova’s weight and flies off into the corner. They both crash and burn. Wagner brings Clova up into a headlock before he drives her head into the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Toby Slays You!”

VASSA: ”No, no… Toby slays Brax!”

JOHNSON: ”I just said tha–“

VASSA: ”Toby’s going for the cover!”

Rolling over Brax for the cover, Toby has her shoulders to the mat as the official drops in beside them with the count.



POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… TOBY WWAAGGNNEERR!!!”

REED: “Um, excuse me? I was using that mirror.”

And sure enough, Bianca’s makeup bag and its contents, which had been spread out beneath the mirror in the locker room, had been shoved unceremoniously off to one side. The female half of Reedvolution crossed her arms and stared at the person who had taken her spot and touched her things without asking. She was tired after her match with 4CW’s resident space cadet, Red Star Jester, but it seemed like another battle was waiting for her.

REED: “Just because we’re in Chicago tonight doesn’t mean you get to declare yourself Queen of the Locker Room, Bex. You gonna move so I can finish what I was doing?”

THOREAU: “In a minute.”

Rebecca appears to be unbothered by the frustration clearly visible across the face of Bianca as she takes her time applying her favorite shade of red to her lips. Dressed in her ring gear for her big match against Mariano Fernandez, Rebecca was applying the final touches to her look, and waiting her turn was not something she had learned.

THOREAU: “Some of us are more important than others, I’m sure you can understand.”

Bianca’s expression shifts from one of frustration to a bright, sugary-sweet smile as she watches Bex apply her lipstick in the mirror.

REED: “Of course I do; not a problem at all.”

With her smile still plastered in place, Bianca moves behind Rebecca to get to her makeup bag, deliberately shoving the taller wrestler just as she was about to finish up with her lipstick. Bianca attempts to keep a straight face but fails miserably, snorting with laughter at Bex’s makeup mishap.

REED: “You should keep it like that. Manny will probably think it’s war paint or some shit. Can hear him now, calling you a glorious warrior queen, chica. Looks good if you ask me.”

Rebecca clenches her jaw for a moment before she takes a step forward to place herself right back in front of the mirror, setting down her lipstick with emphasis on the table. Her glare still fixed on Bianca as she grabs at something to wash off the excess lipstick now on her face.

THOREAU: “I don’t recall asking you for a single thing.”

With a shaking motion of her head, Rebecca starts to wipe off the lipstick on her face, once again pushing Bianca back to give herself some more room and keep her firm stance.

THOREAU: “Probably shouldn’t let your obvious jealousy of me get too out of control. I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel for you to play the role of the welcoming committee to trash that’ll be gone in a week or two, while I face some worthy competition.”

Bianca shrugs her shoulders and reaches across Bex to grab her hairbrush, starting to comb out the tangles from the ends and slowly working her way up.

REED: “Way I see it? I get the chance to hype people up, get them excited for the rest of the show. And let’s face it, if I can get a decent match out of that fuckin’ space cadet, I’m basically the Mother fuckin’ Teresa of 4CW.”

Her eyes light up with mischief as she looks over at Rebecca, setting down her brush and finding another reason to get into the Chicago native’s personal space – this time, to gather up her hairspray and a collection of hair ties.

REED: “I got nothing to be jealous of when it comes to you, Thoreau. In fact, I got something I know you want… and that kills you, doesn’t it? That someone you wouldn’t hire to clean your fuckin’ toilet succeeded where you failed. I’m glad you and Julie stepped up, cause right now you’re the only one in this company with the balls to challenge for the tag titles instead of spinning your wheels trying to get a singles shot to make yourself relevant. But after everything A.J. and I went through to get these, there’s no way in hell we’re letting them go so quickly.”

With a smug grin, Bianca sets herself up at the station right next to Bex and starts taking her makeup off, making sure to reach over again to get the case for her false eyelashes.

REED: “Guess I’ll let you have the mirror. It’s the only thing of mine you’ll ever be able to take.”

THOREAU: “It doesn’t kill me at all actually, since I stated more than once now that I’m glad I lost at Bad Company. What a shock that you listen about as well as you do anything else.”

Rebecca returns the smug expression with one of her own as she finishes cleaning off the lipstick on her face and grabs it once again while stepping further away from Bianca.

THOREAU: “By all means, it’s nice to see how much of you is fake, and I know I’m going to take great pleasure in ending that tag team championship reign soon enough. Bad Company didn’t get the best of me as far as tag team competition, but since that’s clearly what you want, I’ll make sure you’re entertaining the crowd first thing every Adrenaline if you so desire.”

As Rebecca continues to brush past Bianca she makes her usual ‘shoo, fly’ gesture with a smirk on her face, clearly having visions of herself with those tag team belts in mind.

THOREAU: “That is if you even bother to stick around after losing the only thing making you actually relevant here.”

REED: “Gonna take a lot more than Children of the Moon to send me running, sweetness. But bless your heart for thinking you’re gonna be the one that gets rid of my stubborn ass. You should probably get out there – I think you’re up next. Watch out for an arrow to the knee.”

Bianca pulls up a stool so that she doesn’t have to go on standing and puts her AirPods in, unlocking her phone so that she can relax without having to acknowledge Rebecca anymore. In response Rebecca simply rolls her eyes before leaving the locker room, slamming the door.



The lights dim in the arena as “Break the Rules” begins to play before Rebecca Thoreau steps out onto the stage. Rebecca looks out at the large crowd of people jeering in her direction before she makes a dramatic swishing motion with her robe. The smirk is obvious on her lips that are painted a deep shade of red as Rebecca begins to strut her way down along the ramp with her head held high barely acknowledging the fans as she walks. Each step she takes is filled with an air of superiority as she makes her way closer to the ring, at this point completely ignoring the fans reaching out in their attempts to even brush up against her while she makes her way past them.

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring first… from Chicago, Illinois… she is REBECCA TTHHOORREEAAUU!!!”

Rebecca makes her way up the steel steps, once again letting her cape fly back behind her with a flourish, before she steps onto the apron where she grabs onto the middle rope so she can slip through them to make her way inside of the ring as gracefully as possible. Once in the ring, Rebecca makes a ‘shoo, fly’ motion towards Powers making it clear she wants him out of the way for her to truly make her grand entrance. The lights in the arena come back on as Rebecca removes her robe, the music fading out, while she stares across the ring towards her opponent with a self confident smirk on her face.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

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



POWERS: ”And now, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds! From Buenos Aires, Argentina, by way of Miami, Florida… ‘THE GADFLY’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”


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

“In the days of kings and queens I was a jester
Treat me like a god or they treat me like a leper
They see me move back and forth between both
I’m trying to find a balance
(“No reason or rhyme!”)

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

“I’m trying to find a balance, I’m trying to build a balance
(“No reason or rhyme!”)”

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


With both wrestlers in the ring, the official proceeds to check in with each corner. Getting the okay from both corners, the official then throws his hand up, calling for the bell.


Manny and Rebecca start the match off at a feverish pace with Manny immediately heading towards Bex and initiating a clinch, in which he is able to take her from behind. An unfamiliar place for him I’m sure because Bex doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself and quickly is able to free herself with a few back elbows to the side of his head. She uses a stunned Manny to her advantage and mounts herself on Manny’s shoulder and stays there for what seems like an eternity before leaning back over, delivering a hurricanrana and a big smile on her face before going for an extremely quick pin.


JOHNSON: ””One and out!

By the time Bex gets to her feet Manny is up on his and shakes his head in disgust? They exchange a few kicks and punches, most of them end up being blocked until Manny is able to hit a Pele kick outta nowhere that sends Bex down to the ground holding her head. Manny delivers a knee to the back as he goes to the ground and slips his arm under her neck and puts her in a headlock. He stands up after a bit and delivers a swift kick to the side before grabbing her ankle and delivering an ankle lock that has Bex scraping and clawing her way to the ropes.

VASSA: ”Hang on tight Manny, she’s taking you for a ride!”

JOHNSON: ”Even with the ankle lock applied, Rebecca is fighting her way to the nearby ropes.”

VASSA: ”Old me would have made a joke about Bex pretending to be Manny at the sight of pussy but then I remember he cheated on Lauryn that one time, or ten, and for that he should be ashamed of himself!”

Manny releases as soon as she hits the ropes and the referee doesn’t have to scold him. He does however run to the opposite end of the ropes and bounces off them and delivers a baseball slide that sends Bex half way out of the ring, because her ASS hits the bottom rope stopping her from hitting the floor. Manny shakes his head and leaves the ring to deliver an apron leg drop that sends Bex to the floor. Manny again hits the opposite ropes as Bex gets to her feet and suicide dives through the ropes, but Bex is able to get out of the way and use Manny’s momentum against him, slamming him up against the steel barricade at ringside. She puts her hand to her forehead and shapes her thumb and pointer finger into an L and laughs at Manny before delivering a few kicks to the back of Manny.

JOHNSON: ”What is this, middle school?”

VASSA: ”No Steve, that was the hand gesture for loser. Haven’t you seen a teen movie before?”

JOHNSON: ”I honestly can’t say that I believe I have and I’m alright with that.”

VASSA: ”Of course you are… loser!”

Bex wastes no time knowing that this is a big moment for her and rolls Manny into the ring and mounts Manny’s back and locks in a camel clutch that is just a bit too close to the ropes as Manny is able to quickly get to them before too long, but unlike Manny she doesn’t let go until a four count and a stern warning from the referee. As Manny rolls over in pain Manny is front mounted by Bex, who again doesn’t seem to be enjoying what Manny is offering because she tees off on his face with some solid strikes as he covers up. Bex gets complacent in delivering these strikes and Manny is able to move a bit to the side while she tries to deliver and elbow and Manny slips her into a headlock, which she quickly is able to turn around into an armbar that is broken up when Manny reaches the ropes by extending his leg.

JOHNSON: ”Those ropes are coming quite in handy tonight.”

VASSA: ”I wish they’d just toss the rope break rule out of the window and let these people rip each other to shreds inside of the ring.”

Bex shakes her head and grabs a handful of Manny’s hair to help him get to his feet she puts him in a headlock and lifts him up a bit, bouncing him off the top rope and hits a slingshot suplex!

JOHNSON: ”Queen’s Law!”

She then immediately makes the cover as the official drops down beside them with the count.


VASSA: ”Manny escapes the pin!”

She starts arguing with the referee about counting faster before she helps Manny to his feet who delivers a quick elbows before taking her back and attempting a german suplex, the only problem is Bex locks her leg around Manny’s and he isn’t able to do it. But he keeps attempting. And attempting. And attempting. It basically looks like they are dry humping in the middle of the ring, before Manny is finally able to hit it right and delivers a fine german suplex, sending Bex to the middle of the ring.

VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ, Manny! Learn to control yourself!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s not what it looked like.”

VASSA: ”You’re telling me?! He looked like a dog locking onto your leg before going red rocket on it.”

JOHNSON: ”What in the world…”

Manny looks down at a fallen Bex and smiles as he has her right where he wants her. Manny charges towards one side of the ropes and again on the other before stopping in front of Bex. As he shouts “SKYRIM FOR THE NORDS” a fan throws a cut into the ring distracting everybody but Bex, who uses this moment to kick Manny right in the family jewels and has him falling to his knees.


Bex quickly gets up and lifts Manny up onto her shoulders, but Manny tries to slide down her back, but falls right into her venus fly trap. She locks an arm and a leg and jumps sending Manny crashing down on his head and hitting her patented Over the Shoulder Belly to Back Piledriver!


VASSA: ”And there’s the cover!”

Wasting no time, Bex quickly covers Manny for the pin.




VASSA: ”Two!”





POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… REBECCA TTHHOORREEAAUU!!!”



“Bar Breaker” hits the PA system. With no fanfare or performance, Madman Szalinski walks out. Whatever the fans’ reaction may be, he almost appears deaf to it.

POWERS: ”And now, coming straight out of Purgatory, weighing in at one hundred ninety-six pounds… the original… MADMAN SSZZAALLIINNSSKKII!!!”

Madman rolls into the ring from under the bottom, running the ropes a couple of times. Again, he shows no sign of acknowledging the crowd. He goes to his corner quietly, kneeling for a couple of seconds before turning to face the center of the ring.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Low Life” by Crobot blared throughout the arena as the lights went dim. Neon pink and blue lights began to flicker on the stage while a form became visible in the flashing lights…

“Baby they say I’m a low life because I sold my soul to the devil…
Gave up my life for the right price, but I survived.”

A negative reaction erupting from the crowd. Brennan soaked it in as he stood on the stage, chewing his gum as he gave an unamused look to the audience as the lights began to brighten, revealing him standing on the stage.

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, making his way to the ring, he hails from San Andreas, California, weighing in at two hundred twenty-five pounds and standing at six foot two inches tall… He has requested to be announced as the following… He is the Cornerstone of 4 Corners, the Sultan of Schlong… He is also known as the King Kong of Dong…”

In-ring, Powers brandished a piece of paper, comically large and read off the nicknames. Devlin walked down the stage casually, ignoring the various hands reaching for him as he made it to the ringside area, Powers, as usual, having a hard time getting out all of his monikers. Brennan soon walked his way towards the steps, climbing up onto the apron and standing on it as he surveyed the crowd.

POWERS: ”He is the… Pinnacle of Penile Perfection, the Saint of the Taint, he is the World Class of Ass, and in some circles has been called the Big Dog of Hog, whatever that means. He is the Face of Professional Wrestling… This is… BRENNAN DDEEVVLLIINN!!!”

Brennan chuckled as he stood on the apron, then he stepped over the second rope and into the ring he went, removing his jacket and tossing it aside before throwing his arms into the air in the center of the ring. Once his music faded out, he walked to the corner, resting back against the turnbuckle with a smile on his lips as he awaited the match to begin.

VASSA: ”Well… this ought to be fun.”

JOHNSON: ”Without anymore references to weed and football? I don’t see how.”

Things began to heat up as soon as Devlin entered the ring where Madman impatiently waited for his grand entrance. The official struggled to keep the two separated as he forced himself in between them, eventually needing the assistance of the officiating crew to help pull the two apart, forcing them to their corners to await the sound of the bell. With things seeming somewhat calm, the rest of the officiating crew left the ring, leaving Patrick Murphy all by his lonesome to call the match. After going over the ground rules with each corner, the official then checked in for the okay from both before throwing his hand into the air and calling for the bell to officially begin the match.

It didn’t take long at all for the two be in each other’s faces in the center of the ring. Devlin mocked Madman in front of everyone watching, something to be expected given the build up on social media leading into tonight’s match. With a smile on his face, Devlin swung for Madman’s head with a sucker punch, failing to connect as the smaller man quickly ducked underneath his passing arm. Delivering an elbow to Devlin’s stomach, Madman forced him to double over from the impact. Using his left hand, he lifted underneath Devlin’s chin to stand him straight up before swinging with his right and slapping Devlin over the chest with an open hand slap.

VASSA: ”OH MY GOD! My chest is hurting just watching that.”

JOHNSON: ”That was a slap heard around the world.”

Madman then unloaded onto Devlin’s head with rapid fire lefts and rights, backing him up across the ring with each landing blow. Forcing Devlin against the ropes, Madman then locked onto his arm, leaning into Devlin to push him against the ropes even more before using them to spring him forward as he whips Devlin towards the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. Just when Devlin’s back hits the ropes across the ring, Madman takes off from stand still and rushes straight for him. As the two close in on each other, Madman leaps feet first into the air as high as he could, kicking both legs straight out for a dropkick. Stopping in his tracks just a step short, Devlin avoids Madman’s drop kick as he watches the masked man fall to the canvas with nothing gained.

Madman races to his feet, only making it to one knee before Devlin rushes in and connects with a running knee lift, knocking Madman down to his back side in a seated position. Continuing to the ropes behind Madman, Devlin hits them and bounces off, racing past Madman and to the ropes in front of him. Bouncing off and coming straight for Madman, Devlin then kicks his foot into the air, driving the bottom of his foot onto Madman’s face with a running boot. Pulling Madman up to his feet, Devlin hits him with back to back rights to the head, knocking him back a step in a daze. Kicking Madman in the stomach, Devlin forces him to bend over, locking onto his head and then dropping him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Rolling over and crawling over Madman, Devlin hooks a single leg as the official slides in beside them with the count.

JOHNSON: ”Brennan for the pin…”


VASSA: ”Tw–“

JOHNSON: ”NNNOOOOOO!!! Madman kicks out!”

Pushing himself up to both knees, Devlin shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn’t really expecting the three count. Just when Madman leaned up a little, Devlin then swung his arm out to the side, hitting Madman right between the eyes with a stiff elbow shot, knocking the back of his head against the canvas. Standing to his feet, Devlin stomped down onto Madman a few times before taking a few steps back to create a bit of space between the two. Stepping in, Devlin then kicks Madman in the ribs as hard as he can, forcing him to roll over to his stomach. Stepping in beside Madman as he pushed himself up from the mat, Devlin leaned over and slapped him in the back of the head. He then grabbed ahold of Madman, helping him to his feet.

Before Devlin could make his next move, Madman lunged at him, throwing both hands over his face and raking Devlin’s eyes. As if a fire had been lit under him, Madman then began swinging with wild lefts and rights, connecting with each and every single one of them as he backed Devlin up across the ring. With the ropes not far, Madman then reached a single hand behind Devlin’s head, pulling him as he rotated his position and then throwing Devlin straight to the ropes. Devlin hit the ropes frontwards, instantly going up and over the top rope before dropping down to the apron and spilling out onto the outside floor. The official then began the ten count as Madman paced the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Madman just cleared the ring.”

VASSA: ”If he’s lucky, Devlin will stay down on the outside.”

JOHNSON: ”With the build up between these two over the last two weeks, I doubt either is looking for a countout here tonight.”


On the outside, Devlin began to push himself up from the floor beside the ring.


His attention was then grabbed by an unknown object sticking out from underneath the curtain.


He then proceeds to pull the object out from underneath the ring, which happens to be larger than expected.

VASSA: ”What the hell is that?”


It was a lot larger than he expected, something all the ladies he’s encountered have told him a time or two I’m sure, or at least according to legend.


The large object was nothing more than a sheet of plywood with what appeared to be a road leading into a dark tunnel painted on one side.

JOHNSON: ”That appears to be a piece of wood with a tunnel painted on one side.”

VASSA: ”Obviously.”


Sliding underneath the bottom rope, Madman led with his feet, driving them straight into the back of the sheet of plyood that Devlin was holding up in front of him between the two. The plywood then slammed against Devlin’s head, knocking him to the floor as he instantly dropped it. Now with Madman on the outside, the official mad no other choice but to restart his ten count.

JOHNSON: ”Devlin wasn’t expecting that!”

VASSA: ”How could he? It was blocking the view of the ring. He had no clue Madman was coming in with that baseball slide.”


Searching the outside area, Madman looked over the sheet of plywood, locking his eyes on two empty chairs in the front row.


Reaching over the barricade, Madman took both empty chairs and then set them side by side.

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing now?”


He then pulled the ring steps over, placing them about five feet or so apart. Last on the list as the sheet of plywood, which he then places over the top of the ring steps and two chairs, creating a table with the painted tunnel side up.

JOHNSON: ”It appears Madman has made a table of sorts with the sheet of plywood, chairs and ring steps.”


Pulling Devlin up from the floor, Madman then rolled him onto the top of the table. Devlin remained on the table looking up at the lights as Madman quickly rushed back over to the ring, sliding in underneath the bottom rope. He then slid back out, restarting the officials count before climbing back onto the apron. Backing up to one end of the apron far away from Devlin on the makeshift table, Madman then began to charge towards him, running along the apron. Madman then leaped off the apron, slipping forward through the air before coming down across Devlin with a senton! The impact wasn’t hard enough to break the sheet of plywood, instead Madman fluidly rolled off of Devlin, coming down to his feet on the floor.

VASSA: ”Madman with the senton from the apron!”

JOHNSON: ”The piece of plywood barely even flexed at all!”

VASSA: ”The same thing can be said about my wood with I’m rock hard baybay!”


Madman then pulled Devlin off the “table”, slinging him to the side and throwing him into the side of the ring.


Madman then pulled the sheet of plywood off the tops of the chairs and steps, propping it upright against the barricade at ringside.


Turning around, Madman was caught by surprise as Devlin closed in. Throwing a punch for Devlin’s head, Madman missed as Devlin ducked underneath it. Wrapping his arm over Madman’s chest, Devlin then pulled him down as he dropped to one knee, slamming Madman over his elevated knee with an STO backbreaker!


JOHNSON: ”Madman wasn’t expecting that and Devlin made him pay.”


Devlin then waved Madman off and turned his back to him, heading back towards the ring, He climbed up onto the apron, and then through the ropes before his movement was stopped. On the outside of the ring, Madman held onto one of Devlin’s feet, pulling him back to the outside. Kicking his other leg out, Devlin planted it to Madman’s face, knocking him backwards and to the ground as he released his other foot. Devlin then climbed back through the ropes to the outside, restarting the officials ten count once more.

VASSA: ”Oh my god, how many times are they going to restart this ten count?!”

JOHNSON: ”As many times as it takes before they take the fight back into the ring or one of them is counted out.”

VASSA: ”Thank you captain obvious.”


Madman pushed himself up from the floor only to get knocked back down as Devlin charged in with a shoulder block. Grabbing Madman by the legs, Devlin then pulled them around and turned Madman’s body so his feet were at the sheet of plywood.


Hooking an arm around each leg, Devlin then elevated them both, holding them by his sides. Looking over his shoulder at the painted tunnel on the sheet of plywood, a grin stretched across his face.


Rolling backwards to the floor, Devlin pulled Madman up to an upright position before sending him flying with a catapult straight into the sheet of plywood. Madman crashed into the painted tunnel, instantly dropping straight down and crashing to the floor. No, the sheet of plywood did not break.

VASSA: ”And just like the cartoons the coyote crashed hard against the painted tunnel!”


Devlin didn’t waste anytime getting back to his feet. He wasn’t giving Madman any time either as he pulled him up as well. Walking Madman towards the ring, Devlin then slid him underneath the ropes and back into it as the official shouted another number in the count.


Rolling into the ring right after, Devlin finally ended the officials count, thus preventing him from repeating himself another four times in under half a minute.

JOHNSON: ”Finally! The match has made it back inside of the ring.”

VASSA: ”Fantastic news for me because I was getting pretty irritated with the ref saying the same damn numbers over and over.”

Madman crawled on all fours away from Devlin, not once looking back over his shoulder as he reached the center of the ring. Walking in behind him at a quick pace, Devlin then jumped into the air, pulling his knee up to his chest. He then kicked his foot straight down, aimed for the back of Madman’s head only to miss as Madman rolled out of the way at the last split second. Devlin’s foot stomped down onto the canvas, and before he knew it, Madman was back to his feet after a quick kip-up.


Unloading into Devlin with open hand slaps across the chest, Madman backed him into the corner where his attack then transitioned to kicks to Devlin’s stomach. The kicks then transitioned to stomps as Madman broke Devlin down to a seated position with his back to the corner. Backing up to the center of the ring, Madman then charged forward, picking up speed with each step he took. Devlin immediately reached out to his sides and grabbed the ropes, pulling himself up from the mat. Jumping in the air, Madman planted both feet to Devlin’s stomach, grabbing him by the shoulders with both hands. Falling backwards in a rolling motion, Madman pulled Devlin down onto his as his back hit the mat, Kicking his legs out, he sent Devlin flipping up and over, crashing in the center of the ring with a monkey flip.

JOHNSON: ”Devlin is airborne!”

VASSA: ”I bet he didn’t expect to be doing any of that flippy shit here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s a lot that’s happened in this match that I’m sure neither man expected, like the painted tunnel for starters.”

Devlin fluidly rolled up to his feet favoring his back. Just as he turned around, Madman was right there to greet him with a stiff right to the side of the head. Jumping in the air, Madman kicked both feet straight into Devlin’s chest with a dropkick, sending him stumbling backwards to the ropes. Devlin hit the ropes and bounced off, just in time for Madman to pop back up to his feet. Devlin fell into him, only to get taken off his feet as Madman lifted him up and spun him around with a tilt-a-whirl. Holding Devlin upside down in position for a tombstone piledriver, Madman was just seconds away of ending Devlin’s night once and for all with his Scoopstone.

JOHNSON: ”Madman can put him away right now with his Scoopstone.”

VASSA: ”Holy shit, how the hell did Devl–“


Before Madman could execute the maneuver, Devlin began kicking his feet wildly, eventually forcing Madman to bend backwards as Devlin’s legs traveled down and over him to the mat. Reversing the maneuver, now Devlin was holding Madman upside down and without hesitation, he dropped him flat on his head with a tomebstone piledriver as he dropped to his knees.


JOHNSON: ”And with a tombstone piledriver of his own no less!”

Madman was nearly out of it, but not completely. He crawled on all fours in a daze, barely moving at all it seemed. From behind, Devlin jumped into the air, kicking his foot down onto the back of Madman’s head and driving his face down to the mat with a curb stomp!


VASSA: ”You don’t even know what that is with your flip phone!”

JOHNSON: ”Yes I do! It’s what Devlin likes to call his signature curb stomp.”

Rolling Madman over to his back with a nudge from his foot, Devlin then dropped to both knees beside him before laying over top for the pinfall.



POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… BRENNAN DDEEVVLLIINN!!!”

Heading backstage, the camera fades to the backstage and pans around to show none other than Anastasia Hayden. All taped up and already in her gear, there’s really not much for Anastasia to do except cross her arms and glare into the camera.

HAYDEN: ”What am I going to say that you haven’t already heard from me before?”

An honest shrug from Anastasia follows.

HAYDEN: ”As it stands, I’ve already given Logan Traeger too much time. I’m not going to waste anymore time on that. Plus, you already know what I’d say anyways. That this is a win for me or that he never stood a chance or whatever. Everyone else does that anyways. So let’s talk about something a bit more fun, shall we?”

She raises her eyebrows in faux excitement as the rest of her face stays about as disinterested as possible. Par for the course.

HAYDEN: ”Back-to-back main events for Anastasia Hayden, how exciting. Such is the life of the most in-demand wrestler in 4CW. When the champions call in sick, you can always count on the fixer. And as of late, there’s been a real issue with star quality in 4CW. Fear not, though, I’m here to save the day. I’m here to be the star that so many others promise to be. I’m going to be the main event. That’s how it’s been since day one…”

Taking a step toward the camera and letting the suspense build like a professional, Ana smirks just a bit.

HAYDEN: ”And nothing fucking changes.”

And the smirk fades right away before Anastasia walks out of the scene. The camera lingers on the blank wall behind her before fading elsewhere in the arena.




POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following Dog Collar Match is scheduled for one fall! Already standing in the ring at this time, a former three time 4CW Champion and 4CW Hall of Famer… JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

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

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

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

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

JOHNSON: ”We’re just moment away from match three in the best of seven series between two 4CW Hall of Famer’s, Jason Cashe and Chris Madison.”

VASSA: ”So far Madison is leading the series with two wins to Cashe’s zero.”

JOHNSON: ”Madison has managed to get an early jump on the three time 4CW Champion. Tonight is a huge match for both men, but more importantly for Cashe.”

VASSA: ”A third consecutive win for Madison could be the game ender for any hope Cashe has at hanging in this thing. One person needs four to win but to get in a position like that if it were to happen, being three down and needing to win out the next four is a whole lot easier said than done.”

JOHNSON: ”Hopefully for Cashe he doesn’t fin himself in that predicament. This match is tailored to his liking. They’re going to be strapped together by collars around their necks. There aren’t any rules whatsoever. I find it hard to believe that Cashe can’t bounce back with a big win tonight.”

The referee locks Chris Madison into the dog collar first, he’s a little apprehensive at first – knowing that this might just play more into Jason’s strengths than his. Once Madison is collared in the referee drags the long, heavy chain – this ain’t no kids match – this chain is thick enough to stop a pitbull fed nothing but steroids and gunpowder. Jason presents his neck to the referee, all but too eager to get that sum’ bitch on and start this thing. As the ref clasps it shut, he calls for the bell and this match is a go.


Jason rushes forward at Madison, who goes to side step but Cashe grabs a hold of the chain and pulls him in for a headbutt, one that cracks throughout the arena. Cashe wastes no time following up, grabbing ahold of the chain once again and yanking Madison down to the mat, his head smacking off of the canvas. As Madison tries to come to, Cashe piles up the chain in his arms and drops it on Madison’s back, the weight crushing him down against the mat. Cashe then on pure adrenaline leaps up into the air and delivers a headbutt to the chain piled on Madison’s back, hurting himself more than Madison it seems.

VASSA: ”I’m NoT a Very SmArT mAn JeNnY bUt I dO kNoW wHaT rEtArD iS!”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen some odd things here at the booth over the years but someone purposely headbutting a pile of chain? A chain as heavy duty as that one is? That’s just plain dumb!”

VASSA: ”Well, we are talking about Cashe here. Has he ever proven himself to be a smart individual?”

JOHNSON: ”There’s a big difference between smarts and no common sense.”

VASSA: ”He might not be the brightest, but he’s proven time and time again that he’s a threat in that ring with no worries about putting himself on the line to take out an opponent.”

While Cashe rolls around on the mat holding his head, this gives Chris the time that he needs to roll the chain off of his back and start to make his way back up to his feet, unfortunately for him as he got to his feet so did Cashe, who tugged on the chain – pulling Madison in for a perfectly delivered double ear clap. Madison is wobbly on his feet, holding his ear drums as Cashe kicks him in the gut before hooking his arms for a double arm suplex! Madison lands on the chain, giving the move added damage – such are the risks in this kind of match.

As Madison holds onto his back, Jason goes for a pin but only gets a two count. He then lets out a few gorilla style punches onto Madisons chest before wrapping the chain around his neck and dragging him up to his feet. Once the two men are standing up Cashe drags Madison over to the ropes and throws him over! But Madison lands on his feet, to the astonishment of Cashe! Madsion then grabs the chain himself and yanks Cashe forward, his neck snapping back of the top rope before being pulled through.

Madison looks down at the limp body of Jason Cashe, finally getting to take a second to breathe. After shaking off a few cobwebs, he walked over to Cashe and grabs him by the back of the neck, yanking him up to his feet before wrapping his arms around his waist. After taking in a deep breath of air, Madison throws Cashe over his head with a belly to belly suplex, Cashe’s back smashing against the entrance ramp.

Ever the stoic man, Madison gets back up to his feet without missing a beat, grabbing Cashe by the back of his neck once again and raising him to his feet before running forward and throwing him at the edge of the apron, Cashe’s back smashing against the hard edge before he thumped to the floor with a stiffness. Madison then begins to wrap the chain around his forearm, getting it nice and tight before dragging Cashe’s deadweight towards him. Once Cashe gets to Madison’s feet, Chris raises his foot up in the air and slams the back of his heel down on the back of Jason Cashe’s skull.

JOHNSON: ”Oh my god!”

VASSA: ”Madison with the curb stomp straight out of American History X!”

JOHNSON: ”Just because rules are thrown out of the window doesn’t mean one has to kill the other to win the match!”

Madison looks focused, his stare like a trained warrior in the midst of war, he was in the moment as he dragged Cashe up to his feet and wrapping his arms around his neck in a sleeper hold, using the chain around his forearm for added pressure. But then something in Cashe just switches on, that animal mentality broke lose – his survival instinct activated and he reaches down inside of his own pants, fiddles around a bit and then pulls his hand up, shoving it backwards into the face of Madison!



The stench must have been something awful, because this gave Cashe an opportunity, one that he seized as he threw himself backwards slamming Madison’s back against the apron – breaking the sleeper. Cashe’s toothless grin extends ear from ear as he rubs the back of his head, still feeling that axe kick from Madison.

JOHNSON: ”That has to be one of the most disgusting things I’ve seen inside of the ring in a long time.”

VASSA: ”Let me guess, the last time something this disgusting happened it was Cashe who was responsible for it?”

JOHNSON: ”Well… you just may be right.”

Seeing that Madison still had the chain wrapped around his forearm, Cashe gets an idea as he begins to drag Madison over to the steel steps. Jason then lays Madison’s arm over the top step and climbs up to the apron, before climbing up to the second rope. After a few moments of getting his balance Cashe leaps off and hits a leg drop onto Madison’s arm, smashing it between his ass and the steel steps! Madison cries out in pain as he rolls around on the ground, frantically trying to unwrap the chain from his arm.

VASSA: ”That’s one way to make earing a victory easier! Break his arm!”

JOHNSON: ”He damn near did just now!”

VASSA: ”I know, Steve, I’m sitting right here beside you watching the same exact thing that you are.”

Even though Cashe’s ass was now bruised he wasted little time in following up his attack, grabbing Madison by the back of the head and rolling him into the ring. Cashe takes a few moments to push the chain into the ring before getting in himself. And it would seem that those few seconds gave Madison time to recover as he jumps on top of Cashe, trying to smother him down into the mat. Cashe pushes himself up, but only to eat knees to the top of his skull. After about the fifth knee Cashe goes limp and Madison rolls off of him, catching his breath as a pool of blood begins to form around Jason’s head.

JOHNSON: ”That’s a rather large pool of blood forming around Cashe’s head right there.”

VASSA: ”Is it? This is nothing compared to the gallons of blood we’ve watched this man spill inside of a 4CW ring.”

Chris starts to get to his feet, the weight of the dog chain seemingly getting heavier after each and every interaction. He stumbles back a bit but catches himself on the ropes, after a few moments of shaking the remaining cobwebs he moves forward. Wrapping his around the downed waist of Cashe, he deadlifts him up into the air – a stream of blood spurts from Cashe’s head as he does so. Madison then tosses him over his head with a gutwrench suplex, before hooking the leg.




Cashe gets his arm up at the last possible second, and in that same motion Madison grabs Cashe’s arm and torques it back in a kimura, before rolling over him and scissoring his head between his legs. Madison is trying to break Cashe’s arm, bending it as far back as he can. Cashe lets out a cry of pain before biting down onto Madison inner thigh! Cashe bites down so hard it forces Madison to break the hold. As Madison scurrys back up to his feet blood begins to trickle down his leg.

JOHNSON: ”How many times have we seen this man bite someone in that ring?”

VASSA: ”You mean that ring particularly?”

JOHNSON: ”Well, not that ring but a 4CW ring.”

VASSA: ”Too many times to even bother keeping up with. Madison should just take a page out of Hopkins’ book and bite off his other nipple so he can finally complete the costume and become a circus act.”

JOHNSON: ”You might want to see nipples being bitten off but one is enough for my lifetime!”

VASSA: ”A lifetime that has went on for too long.”

JOHNSON: ”Excuse me, what?”

VASSA: ”Nothing! I was just saying a lifetime is long enough without seeing something that drastic taking place right before your very own eyes.”

As Madison checks on his wound, Cashe gets up to one knee, a crimson mask melting down his face. Madison notices this and charges forward going for a bicycle knee, but Cashe catches his knee with the chain and pushes him back with a great show of force! Both men are up to their feet and Madison rushes forward once again Cashe ducks around him and pops up into the air, grabbing him by the back of the neck with a cutter! Cashe drapes his arm over Madison’s body.


VASSA: ”He’s going for the cover!”


JOHNSON: ”Oh that was close!”

VASSA: ”I thought Cashe had it there but then Madison kicked out and cucked him of that win here tonight.”

There is genuine look of shock on the face of Cashe as he pushes himself up to his feet, he stares at the downed Madison, before yelling at him to stay down. Cashe then takes the chain and starts to pummel Madison’s back, strike after strike, whipping him with hard metal. The strikes to his back have left huge bruises along Madison’s back, as it starts to turn purple and swell. Jason seems pretty proud of himself as he grins his toothless grin once more.

VASSA: ”This is almost as bad as that time Hopkins whipped Cashe while he was sitting on the toilet.”

JOHNSON: ”Seriously? Did you have to remind us of that. Now I’m going to have that image stuck in my head.”

He then starts to wrap the chain around his forearm and calling for Madison to get up, tugging at the chain for incentive. Slowly Madison makes his way up to spaghetti legs, it’s at this moment that Cashe charges forward going for the Mark of Jason, but Madison ducks under! With Madison now behind Cashe, he tugs on the chain, ripcording Cashe backwards and nailing him with a rolling elbow in the back of the head!



Cashe’s body goes deadweight but Madison doesn’t let him fall, instead throws the dog chain around Cash’s neck and lifts him up in an electric chair position before delivering his Electric Chair Bridging German Suplex!

VASSA: ”That’s not goo–“


Pinning Cashe down shoulders to the mat, Madison fights to keep him down as the official races over with the count.


JOHNSON: ”Madison’s done it! He’s taking home the win tonight, making it three to zero in the series.”

VASSA: ”This one was gruesome and Madison is surely going to feel the aftermath going in to the fourth match two weeks from now.”

JOHNSON: ”Not only Madison is going to be feeling it after this match but both men are. They literally beat the ever loving crap out of each other here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Now Cashe is down three and can’t afford to lose another without Madison winning the entire series.”

“War Machine” hits the speakers as Madison slowly rises to his feet. Before declaring him the victor, the official firsts assists removing the collar from around Madison’s neck. Now with Madison unleashed so to speak, the official then takes him by the arm, hoisting it into the air as the bell rings out over the arena.


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

We quickly cut to the backstage area, a panicked and shaky camera focusing in on Perry Wallace as he paces down the hall towards the back. From down the hall, you can hear a few screams, and just general sounds of panic – sounds of something gone wrong. The usual calm headed Perry Wallace looks confused as men and women run by him, seemingly fleeing from something. He grabbed ahold of one of the staff members, yanking them close and asking.

WALLACE: “What the hell is going on?!”


The staff member breaks free from Perry’s grip, almost knocking him over in the process.

WALLACE: “Mother fuck!”

Catching himself before he fell face first onto the ground, Perry continues hastily making his way forward, closer to the incident.

WALLACE: “What in the fuck is he doing?! Always running around here like this is a goddamn episode of Ox. Fucking inbred mother fucker.”

As Wallace reaches what appears to the boiler room a crowd had already formed. Perry pushes past into the room, looking around in more confusion until he sees it. Then he goes blank, expressionless – his pale white ass getting even paler as he sets eyes on what was causing the commotion. Strung up by his wrists, is Jeb Fisher – his back facing the camera. His hands had been chained to two different pipes, hanging from the ceiling. Even though there was an incredible amount of heat radiating from the boiler, Jeb’s skin was like frost on a winter morning, white and with a slight chill. Carved into his back are the words…


Next to Jeb’s strung up body was a white store mannequin, it’s head and arms had been removed. Written on it’s chest in what appears to be blood is the message…


Perry enters the room, walking around Jeb’s body and getting a glimpse of his limp head – which faced downward. Perry grabbed Jeb by the hair and pulled it up, revealing large bruising around his neck, in the pattern of a chain – maybe the same chains that bound him. Perry let’s Jeb’s head down and swallowed, his eyes almost bugged out as he looked past Jeb and into the crowd of people.

WALLACE: “Jesus fucking Christ, are you people going to just stand there?! Get some goddamn help! I have a call to make… goddamnit!”

Perry wipes some sweat from his forehead before rushing out of the room, pushing past the crowd and disappearing down the hall. The camera peers back at Jeb, before moving over to the message on the mannequin – zooming in on it and lingering for a few moments before the camera switches over.



JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to ringside ladies and gentlemen, it’s now time for our feature main event!”

VASSA: ”We saw her make her return to a 4CW ring back at Fright Night, but tonight we get to see Ana’s first match back on Adrenaline after being away from 4CW for over half a year.”

JOHNSON: ”She made quite the impact at Fright Night and even though she didn’t capture the 4CW Championship hanging high above the ring, she let each and every single person in that match and watching around the world that she is back for business.”

VASSA: ”Tonight she makes her Adrenaline return against another entrant of the Warzone of Horrors.”

JOHNSON: ”Logan Traeger!”

VASSA: ”He’s gotta be feeling banged up and down right terrible after the fall he took from the top of the cage through not one, not two, but three tables and also panes of glass!”

JOHNSON: ”It was a nasty fall and all by the hands of Toby Wagner, who threw caution to the wind and risked his own body to make a statement against Logan.”

VASSA: ”Let’s just hope there’s enough left of him to make this a decent match here tonight against a former 4CW Champion, Anastasia Hayden.”

The arena lights dim, beckoning the crowd’s attention to the entryway as the beginning riffs of “Absolute Power” by Parkway Drive lead into the lead singer’s roar, triggering an array of blues and strobe lights to engulf the area Logan Traeger stands in as he makes his way out, bottle of water in hand, which he pours over his hair before taking a drink of some just before discarding it and walking to the ring with a confident purpose.

“Your heart, your home, your voice, it’s got a price tag
Sign in blood, bury your rights in a body bag
They’re feeding fear through the fault lines
You heard it here first, they got your freedoms on the front line”

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring first, hailing from Miami, Florida. Standing at six foot, three inches, and weighing two hundred forty pounds… LOGAN TTRRAAEEGGEERR!!!”

Logan stops at the immediate ringside area, gazing toward the ring and surveying the crowd. Making his way to the left he slides up onto the apron on one knee and proceeds to stand, playing to the raucous fans.

“Pay ’em off and play ’em off
Fear rolls like a reaper through the streets of the lost
Pay ’em off and play ’em off
But in the eyes of the storm
The truth drops like a bomb”

Stepping into the ring, Logan hits the ropes twice, flipping over the top rope on the opposite end of the ring the third time, feet landing on the apron, with his arms stretched out, palms facing the crowd.

“Hands in chains for a fist full of dollars
Who do we blame for the holes in our knowledge?
The past you know has been written by the victor
So I ask you now, who is it writing your future?
The butcher, the liar, the thief or the killer?
Your freedom died quiet in the halls of power
Starved for peace, we’ll eat war until it kills us
Six feet deep with a belly full of bullets”

Just before entering the ring, he climbs the outside middle turnbuckle and takes in the atmosphere of the night with a look of determination while mouthing the lyrics to the track. Afterwards, he grabs the top rope and jumps into the ring to stand in the center of the chaos.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Word up, son, word, yeah
To all the killers and a hundred dollar billers
For real, niggas who ain’t got no feelings
Check it out now”

The lighting in the building darkens a bit before the opening of “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep starts playing and the crowd begins to boo. As soon as the intro of the song finishes, Anastasia Hayden steps out from the curtains with her mouth guard hanging out. The negative reception doesn’t bother her as she stands at the top of the entrance, surveying the ring and the crowd before she pops the mouth guard back in and starts making her way down to the ring.

”I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous
You heard of us, official Queensbridge murderers
The Mobb comes equipped for warfare, beware
Of my crime family who got ‘nough shots to share”

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring, hailing from Steele, North Dakota…weighing in at one hundred twenty-eight pounds… she is the ‘GRAND DUCHESS’… ANASTASIA HHAAYYDDEENN!!!”

”Rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone
You all alone in these streets, cousin
Every man for they self in this land we be gunnin’
And keep them shook crews runnin’, like they supposed to
They come around, but they never come close to”

The announcement of her name only draws out more boos toward Ana. She brushes them off as she leaps up to the apron and climbs through the ropes into the ring. Ana finds a free corner in the ring and walks toward it, perching herself on the top turnbuckle, and popping her mouth guard out again as she waits for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: ”Now that we have both competitors in the ring for our main event, we can finally get things underway!”

VASSA: ”Why are you in such a rush? This could very well be the last match you ever call.”

JOHNSON: ”You seem a bit sad, Vinny. I can honestly say this was unexpected.”

VASSA: ”Sad? Pfft… I’ve been waiting for this opportunity to take the lead for years!”

JOHNSON: ”Take the lead? I thought you always claimed to be the real host and I was just your sidekick?”

VASSA: ”You are! I just meant I’m going to have this entire booth all to myself.”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

VASSA: ”Why’s that?”

JOHNSON: ”I hear they’ve already been interviewing candidates to replace my spot at the booth.”

VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to miss you, Steve…”

In the center of the ring, the official stands between both wrestlers who patiently wait in their corners. He checks in with each corner and after getting the nod from each wrestler, Larry Collins then throws his hand up, rather quick for an old man, signaling for the bell and officially getting tonight’s main event underway!


The two started off circling each other in the center of the ring. With the big size in difference between the two, Ana kept her distance from Logan, or at least as long as she could before she had no other choice. Rushing her, Logan reached out with both hands to grab her, leaving his lower body exposed and a target as Ana unloaded with rapid fire right kicks to the side of his thigh. Logan continued to come for her, the kicks not slowing him down one bit. Grabbing Ana, he pulled her in close only to get blinded as she quickly threw her hands over his face and raked his eyes.

Logan turned the opposite way, quickly bringing his hands up over his eyes as he began rubbing them. Coming in from behind, Ana kicked Logan in the back of the knee, taking his leg out from under him as she dropped him down to one knee. Jogging to the ropes in front of them, she bounced off of them and upon her return, Ana leveled Logan with an enzuigiri! Logan quickly pushed himself up to an upright seated position and before he could finish the climb to his feet, his eyes lit up at the sight of Ana charging him once again. Closing in, Ana jumped into the air feet first, kicking both legs straight out and planting her feet to Logan’s chest with a running dropkick!

She pulled Logan up from the mat, holding him with one hand as she delivered rapid fire punches with her other hand. Kicking Logan in the stomach and forcing him to double over, Ana then locked on to his wrist and whipped him to the corner across the ring from them. Logan crashed into the corner with his back and right behind him was Ana chasing tail. She swung upward with a European uppercut as she closed in, only to eat an elbow to the face as Logan turned his body to the side and caught her off guard. Lifting Ana off her feet, he lifted her over his head with a military press. Turning his entire body to face the corner, Logan then launched Ana in the air, throwing her towards the corner as she came down face first onto the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: ”And just like that the momentum in this match was completely shifted in the blink of an eye.”

VASSA: ”Ana was off to a quick start against Logan who is nearly double her size.”

JOHNSON: ”She has him beat when it comes to speed but I don’t know what she can do if he manages to get his hands on her.”

VASSA: ”She flies! We just watched it happen right before our eyes!”

Ana leaned against the corner with her arms draped over the top ropes at her sides. Wrapping both arms around her waist, Logan then went to lift her off her feet but Ana immediately grabbed onto the ropes with both hands, keeping herself grounded. The two fought with each other for a few short moments before Ana pulled one hand away from the ropes, throwing her elbow back and connecting with a shot right to the center of Logan’s forehead. She then hit him with a second, and then a third elbow to the face before finally forcing him to loosen his hold. Jumping in the air, Ana brought her knees to her chest, setting her feet on the corner before kicking her legs straight and pushing the two backwards away from the corner. Logan fell backwards to the mat and with him he pulled Ana down who fluidly rolled backwards off of him and up to her feet.

Logan quickly raced to his feet as Ana looked on patiently. Waiting for the exact moment to strike, Ana then charged forward, coming at Logan for what appeared to be another enzuigiri. Popping up at just the right time, Logan exploded forward, popping his knee up to her stomach and flipping her forward to her back with a kitchen sink. Backing up to the ropes, he then bounced off of them, picking up speed with each step as he closed in. Jumping into the air, Logan came right back down with an elbow drop to Ana’s chest. Rolling her over to her stomach, he then stood to his feet, planting one on each side of her body as he stood over her. Digging his arms underneath her, he then locked his hands before deadlifting her from the canvas and slamming her backwards with a German suplex!

JOHNSON: ”Just when you think Ana’s going to shift the momentum back in her favor Logan pulls the rug out from under her.”

VASSA: ”He just made deadlifting her look easy before slamming her down with that German suplex.”

Pulling Ana up from the mat, Logan then pulled her head between his legs and lifted her up into the air as if executing a powerbomb. Instead of throwing her back to the mat, he positioned her back over his shoulder for a move we’ve seen from him a few times throughout his 4CW tenure – an overhead gutwrench backbreaker rack drop. Before he could execute, Ana managed to slip out of his hold, dropping down to her feet behind him. She instantly took off for the ropes in front of her as Logan turned around to face her. When he finally did turn around completely, it was too late! Logan threw his arms up in defense as Ana faked an upper body attack. She then switched things up at the last split second, taking his leg out from under him with a dropkick to the knee!

Logan fell to one knee, but still didn’t go completely down. Ana then stepped in closely, firing at will with left and right open palm strikes to his head and chest. The open palm strikes then transitioned to kicks, a whole lot of them. Kicking with just her right leg, Ana pounded away at the side of Logan’s head with no restraint. Logan refused to go down, despite Ana connecting with each and every kick. Grabbing him by the arm, she then pulled him up to his feet. Twisting his arm in an arm lock, Ana then kicked her leg up and swung it around, connecting with a hook kick to Logan’s chest that knocked him flat on his back. Logan pushed himself up to a seated position but before he even knew what hit him, Ana raced in, leveling him with a sliding forearm smash.

VASSA: ”Oh shit!”

JOHNSON: ”Human Target Practice!”

VASSA: ”Oh boy, did she hit the bullseye right there!”

Logan laid on his back with both arms stretched out to his sides. Crawling over him, Ana quickly made the cover as the official wasn’t far behind with the count.


JOHNSON: ”Logan kicks out!”

Ana didn’t waste any time to argue with the official or even question the count. Instead, she swung down and clocked him with back to back elbows to the face. Standing to her feet, Ana then pulled Logan up to a seated position before stepping in behind him and letting him have it with rapid kicks to his back. Putting all of her strength into the final kick, the planted her foot against the back of Logan’s head. Pulling him up from the mat, Ana locked on his wrist and went to whip him to the ropes. Before she could release him, Logan planted his foot, turning back to face her as he pulled her into a short-arm clothesline, dropping her to her back.

VASSA: ”She didn’t see that one coming!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think either of them did. Logan looked as if he were seeing stars after the kick to the back of the head.”

VASSA: ”Having a hand on the opponent is enough to know where they are and execute a move. As they say, even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while.”

Rolling Ana over to her stomach, Logan squatted down beside her, digging his arms underneath and wrapping them around her waist. Deadlifting her from the mat once more, this time he raises her into the air above his head. With a few steps forward, he then threw her down to the mat as hard as he could with a powerbomb! It looked painful just watching and given Ana’s reaction following, it was apparent that it was. Pulling her up from the mat, Logan hits her in the head with back to back rights before latching onto her arm and throwing her to the ropes. Upon her return, Logan lifted her off her feet before spinning around and planting her to the canvas with a spinning spinebuster!

Standing beside her, he the came down with an elbow drop to her head. Pushing himself up instantly, he then came down with a second elbow drop to Ana’s head. Lifting her to her feet, Logan then lifted her into the air, holding her sideways. Carrying her over to the corner, Logan then positioned himself in front of it with his back facing the corner. Rocking back and forth, he then lifted her up over his head, throwing her over it and into the corner with a fall away slam. Ana hit the corner and dropped down to the mat on her shoulder. She pulled herself to a seated position with her back to the corner as Logan stood tall. After backing up to the center of the ring, Logan then charged forward, coming straight for Ana and connecting with a running boot to her face, knocking the back of her head against the turnbuckle.

Pulling Ana up from the mat and away from the corner, Logan dragged her to the center of the ring where he then lifted her up over his head in a military press before slamming her down with an exploder suplex.


VASSA: ”And down she went falling…”

Logan quickly popped back to his feet and lifted Ana up from the mat. Turning her to face away from him, he pulled one of her arms between her legs, getting her into position for a pump-handle. After trapping her other arm with his free one, he then lifted her up with the pump-handle. Spinning her in mid air, what came next was his pump-handle reverse STO.

VASSA: ”Up and over.”



In the air, Ana wrapped an arm around Logan’s head before he could secure her. Swinging her legs forward, Ana fell backwards, pulling Logan’s head with her and planting it to the mat with a DDT!

JOHNSON: ”Ana with the reversal DDT!”

VASSA: ”Logan was just a split second away from ending her night with his LST.”

The sound of Logan’s head pounding against the mat was heard loud and clear over the noise level of the crowd that instantly popped at the sight. Logan was still conscious, barely moving as he remained down with his face to the canvas. More than likely unsure of his surroundings or where he even is at the moment, Logan pressed both hands to the mat and slowly began to push himself up. Looking on from across the ring, Ana watched patiently as Logan climbed to his feet and just when he finally went to stand tall, she exploded from her stand still position. Running across the ring and gaining speed with each step, Ana closes in on Logan as he stood tall, leaping in the air and kicking a single leg out to drive her foot into his face with her running single leg dropkick!


VASSA: ”That sounds like a personal problem, Steve. Are you sure you aren’t stepping away from the booth for other reasons? More so reasons of legal nature?”

JOHNSON: ”I feel bad for whoever they decide to replace me with.”

VASSA: ”Look! I was just asking a simple question.”

JOHNSON: ”You always have some sort of remark whenever she hits someone with that move. This isn’t anything new.”

Logan was old cold on his back facing the lights above. Crawling over to him, Ana hooked a single leg as she rolled across his body, resting over him with her back against him. Sliding in beside them was the official with the count as Ana nodded her head each time his hand slapped the canvas.


VASSA: ”Ana’s done it! She’s taken the win here in her official return to an Adrenaline ring.”

JOHNSON: ”Things weren’t looking too good for her as it appeared that Logan was seconds away from ending her night.”

VASSA: ”He had her dead to rights it seemed but that speed we talked about earlier cam in handy as she was able to counter his LST with a DDT.”

“Shook Ones (Part II)” hits the speakers as the crowd erupts with cheers from the site of Ana countering Logan’s LST. She slowly rises to her feet where she is then met by the official who takes her by the arm, lifting it into the air as the sound of the closing bell follows.


POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall… ANASTASIA HHAAYYDDEENN!!!”

Ana then pulls her arm away from the official. Before taking a step away from Logan, she looks down to him one final time with a smirk on her face before turning away and looking out to the crowd in attendance.

JOHNSON: ”And that’s our main event for tonight, folks!”

VASSA: ”One Adrenaline down, two more to go as we head into Winter Wasteland at the very beginning of the year.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s going to be quite different this winter not calling the action from the booth.”

VASSA: ”Jesus fucking Christ, don’t remind me! Tonight is the last night we team up together at ringside.”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t say last. You never know what the future holds.”

VASSA: ”And neither do you with Death following you around everywhere you go.”

JOHNSON: ”Did I mention that’s it’s going to be wonderful not having to put up with these insults about my age anymore?”

VASSA: ”Oh stop it! It’s all in good fun.”

JOHNSON: ”I hate to admit it, but I’m going to miss it.”

VASSA: ”You just need to focus on your health and maybe one day you’ll be back out here with me.”

JOHNSON: ”My health is just fine. I swear I get indigestion one time and you all think the worst, fearing that I’m having a heart attack.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know if you looked at the video from the after party at Fright Night, but that wasn’t indigestion.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure you know more about my body than I do.”

VASSA: ”Absolutely not. You’re like twice as old as I am. I didn’t do too well in history class.”

JOHNSON: ”Well you better start paying attention now because I’m not going to be here at the booth with you anymore to carry you and the show. You’re going to have to know all the details yourself and not rely on me.”

VASSA: ”I’m sorry but what you meant to say is whoever replaces you will have to know all that stuff because I’m just here to keep things entertaining while you put everyone to sleep.”

JOHNSON: ”I feel sorry for whoever is unfortunate enough to sit here at the booth with you following tonight.”

VASSA: ”Do you have any idea who that person is? I’ve been hearing rumors about different people interviewing for the job. I swear to God I hope they don’t get the nerve to stick Tommy at the booth with me. I don’t know if I can put up with the smell of stinky feet while trying to watch a wrestling match.”

JOHNSON: ”I have no idea who they have in mind. There have been a few people speaking with Perry tonight for the position. At least that’s what the work group text has been saying tonight.”

VASSA: ”What group text?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s nothing, just that I don’t know who they’re going to replace me with.”

VASSA: ”They better choose wisely because I’m not putting up with any bullshit at the booth. Bullshit is my job!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure you’re going to do just fine without me.”

VASSA: ”I sure hope you’re right, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”And with that, I’d like to wish each and every one of you watching a wonderful evening. It’s been a pleasure.

VASSA: ”But where are we heading next?”

JOHNSON: ”You really are going to be lost without me aren’t you?”

VASSA: ”You’ve always told me where we’re going next at the end of each show.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s all in your hands now, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Will you at least text it to me?”

JOHNSON: ”For the final time, thank you all for joining us here tonight. From 4CW and the booth, I’m Steve Johnson, signing off once and for all.”

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

As Ana’s celebration comes to an end, she begins to climb through the ropes, exiting the ring. Never once looking back, she heads up the ramp, headed straight for the back. With her now out of sight and Logan still coming to his senses, the crowd breaks out into one final chant, a farewell for the years of dedication from Steve Johnson.

“Thank-You-Steve! … Thank-You-Steve! … Thank-You-Steve! … Thank-You-Steve! … Thank-You-Steve!”

The chant grows louder and louder as the picture slowly begins to fade. Over a black screen, the chant continues before the credits begin to roll and the 4CW logo finally flashes across the screen.