Revolution Fifty Two opens cold on a shot of the sold out crowd JAM PACKED into the RUPP ARENA.  The focus of the shot is on an empty ring, and the fans soon fall into a hushed silence after realizing somethin important is about to happen.  There’s no word from any of the three commentators, making SAMANTHA COIL the first person to say anything at the top of the broadcast.

Samantha Coil: (Off Camera) Ladies and Gentlemen...  if you would, a moment of silence for a true Creative Genius...  the late, EDWARD RAYMOND.

The crowd obliges, despite mixed feelings for Raymond’s professional career.  A very solemn moment follows, accompanied by a formal, ten-bell-salute.

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

“DING.”

To their credit, the fans break into a respectful round of applause and the cameras pan around the arena for several reaction shots.

Eryk Masters: An undeniable force in professional wrestling.

Jeff Hansen: (Clearly emotional) I love you, Ed. (Sniffling)  Gonna miss you, little brother.

The applause continues for a few extra seconds before being interrupted quite suddenly...

THE LIGHTS GO OUT!

Haunting chimes begin to ring out through the arena.

What was once a moment of gracious admiration, quickly dissolves into a heated mess as the fans begin booing furiously on cue.

A guitar croaks out a single note, which leads into the sound of an ominous, whirring violin!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

THE DRUMS ROLL IN!

And “Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)” by Broken Social Scene kicks off with its SIREN-LIKE,  dissonant chords.  The response is deafening.  Almost entirely full of hate, but extremely passionate none-the-less.  Pink spotlights circle the shadowy arena, providing the only real means of visibility, which makes the fans act even crazier...  Cause it’s dark.  And wrestling fans always seem to think a dark arena gives them the right to act like idiots.

The frenzied crowd continues to boo while the maddening, musical insanity swells, and swells...

Builds...  and builds...  AND BUILDS...

WHEN FINALLY THE DRUMS ROLL A SECOND TIME..

AND THE MUSIC EXPLODES INTO A BEAUTIFUL RESOLUTION!!!

A stream of whistling pink fireworks FLARE up close to the ceiling and CRACK AS THEY EXPLODE IN THE AIR!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

The curtains at the top of the aisle-way rustle...

THE DEFILER.  HAS.  ARRIVED!!!

“Well, I got shot right in the back,
And you weren't there, you weren't there.”

At the very start of the opening lyrics, the SHOOT PROJECT WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, JONNY JOHNSON steps into the limelight.  He has longer coat on...  dark blue, almost like a trench coat, and a scarf around his neck.  There’s a brown winter cap on his head, and the SHOOT Project WORLD TITLE hangs off his right shoulder.  His jeans are a little on the tight side, like an indie-rockstar, but not so tight that he’d be mistaken for a “Taking Back Sunday” fan.  His beard and hair are getting longer every day as his apathy for life grows and grows. 

He has disdain in his eyes and avoids any contact with the outstretched arms of irritating fans, brushing past them without so much as a glance.

“I said I was never coming back,
And you weren't there, you weren't there.”

He ignores their chants and jeers, appearing more volatile than usual as evidenced by his focused march toward the ring.  There are no theatrics or crowd bating tactics from the Champ tonight... just a hate-filled scowl and determination.

The announcers remain silent, not really sure what to expect, and probably feeling as anxious as members of the SHOOT Project brass in the back.  Considering everything that has happened in the last few weeks, it’s likely that Jonny could say anything, and that’s usually never a good thing.

”When I thought the islands were under attack,
You weren't there, you weren't there.”
When I saw the bedroom, wasn't too sure,
'Cause you weren't there, you weren't there.”

Where there are normally more fireworks, tonight there are none.  Jonny walks up the steel steps and forgoes the usual stalling as the song hits its chorus.

“And if God is what we made.
Cut their hands on the needles
Don't get high on what you create.”

He enters the ring and pulls a microphone out from his coat pocket.  His eyes dip toward the mat, while his music continues to play a little bit longer.  He gives no cue for it to stop, but after Jonny starts pacing, the guys in production realize they should probably get this show on the road.

The music stops.

And the lights come up.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The DEFILER: (Ignoring the reaction) I thought about wishing you guys a merry Christmas...

He looks up and stares into the crowd.

The DEFILER: Did you know that?  I honestly did.  I fucking sat in the back and spent about fifteen minutes debating it.  Thinking to myself...  that...  that it’s the holidays and...  and no matter how often we fail to see eye to eye, there’s no reason that we can’t, for one moment, come together and...  acknowledge that at the end of the day, we’re all searching for joy and a piece of mind.  That...  We’re all the same creatures of silly habit, who just so desperately want to be HAPPY.

He pauses, and his speech actually serves to quiet the fans a little bit.

The DEFILER: But I decided against it. 

Because I don’t know that I really feel that way.

No.  I KNOW I don’t feel that way.  I look out and all I can see is the hellish swamp of inferior humanity...  A sludge pot of human beings who deserve nothing but the worst.  People who should be OUTRIGHT ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES and their behavior, but who will NEVER admit to being wrong...  who will NEVER have the courage to look into a mirror and point the finger at the REAL culprit.

People who would take the death of a man like Ed Raymond and call it in as a MARK OUT MOMENT OF THE YEAR. 

Really?

He shakes his head and the fans start to take offense to what Jonny’s saying.  The boo birds start up, but there’s way more anxious chatter.

The DEFILER: Ed was one of my best friends in this business, and is one of the reasons this fucking company ever even made it on the map in the first place..  (Smirking) People in higher positions made him into a scape goat, but I won’t let him die one.  Ed was a fucking genius who bailed Jason and his idiotic creative team out of more jams than they would ever tell you.

That is, of course, unless things got too heated for them.

Then they’d be the first ones to give Ed all the credit in the world.

He pauses, clearly trying to maintain his composure at least a little bit.

The DEFILER: I’m just so fucking sick of the bullshit.  Guys like Ed and me have done nothing but BUST OUR ASSES OFF and there are still people out there who want to run their mouths...  (In disbelief) I am constantly being told what I can and can’t do...  What I can and can’t SAY because someone from some other place might get mad...  or someone in the company might LEAVE.

And all I can wonder is...

How much more do I have to do for this organization before my critics finally have the GODDAMN BALLS to admit that I DESERVE EVERYTHING I AM GETTING?!?!

He takes the WORLD TITLE off his shoulder and holds it into the air.

The DEFILER: I’m sorry that MY RECLAIMING THE WORLD TITLE was such a disappointment...

BUT THERE IS NOTHING YOU FUCKING IDIOTS CAN DO ABOUT IT.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

He drapes the title back over his shoulder.

The DEFILER: Ed died without having an opportunity to stand up for himself, and I can only learn from his mistakes.  I will not let this second reign be marred by cries for change or accusations of politics.  I am the World Heavyweight Champion because I AM THE VERY BEST.  I don’t care how much you love Eric Rohkar.  I DON’T CARE HOW BADLY YOU MIGHT WANT TO SEE ADRIAN CORAZON TEAR ME LIMB FROM LIMB AT REDEMPTION...

As long as I continue living on this planet, I am making it my mission to defeat my critics...  to DESTROY the haters and to see out mass genocide on EVERY FUCKING IDIOT WHO THINKS HE OR SHE DESERVES THE WORLD.

BECAUSE YOU DON’T DESERVE...  ANYTHING.

He casts a very serious glare around the arena.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”  CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”  CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!

The chant doesn’t affect him in the least.

The DEFILER: (Wiping a strand of hair from his eye) Chant.  I don’t care.  It doesn’t change anything.  It NEVER changes anything.  The fact is...  I am the best professional fucking wrestler IN THE WORLD.

And there is NO ONE who can dispute that claim.

He pauses and looks out into the crowd.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”  CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!

The DEFILER: I pray that every single one of you loses a loved one this holiday.  Or that your houses burn down, or your puppies get cancer.

I’d really mark out for that.

Truly.

Jonny drops the microphone and has decided he is done.

From here the Revolution Video begins to play.

The screen starts out black, but the Las Vegas skyline fades in coming into clear view.

“Gentlemen and ladies…”

As the backbeat to “Cover and Duck” by Fort Minor and Styles Beyond kicks in, the word Revolution starts to scroll slowly across the screen in blue lettering.

“Please put down your expensive champagne…”

The last of the letters pass by.

“It’s about to get ugly in here!
Let’s Go!”

As the words “set it off motherfuckers!” echo in reverb fashion, the sound of a scratched record is heard…

“ WELCOME TO REVOLUTION!”

Samantha Coil’s voice chimes in, breaking the abrupt silence, and the screen comes to life with shots of the SHOOT Project soldiers, edited to fit with the beat of the music. Jester Smiles is seen first flying off the ropes with an Asai Moonsault. Donovan King screams out as he locks someone in the Carolina Cross face. Then a shot of Long Island Hardcore tossing weapons into the ring.

“From the start 'til the end, night until the dawn
It's that fight music cause right when it comes on”

The Defiler Jonny Johnson is seen hitting an opponent with the Demoralization Process. We then see a shot of Cade Sydal firing off with a lightning quick ninjaguri. Freeze on the impact and then the footage changes to Christopher Davis driving an opponent to the mat via Angela’s Ashes.

“You just lose control of your elbows and fists
Fuckin' other disregard for your body in the pit”

Perdition is seen next hitting a spinebuster and Neckbreaker Combo. Then a quick shot of Sinnocence battling Ainsley Lake. Cut to a shot of Kenji Yamada, Roland, Sammy Rochester, and Vincent Mallows together in the ring. From there a cut to Trevor Worrens and Osbourne Kilminster erupting into an all too real fist fight.

“People are swinging limbs, swinging bottles and chairs
Throwin' lime, backin' motherfuckers up in the air”

Next seen is Nightmare throwing a striking combo at a helpless opponent… Cut from there to Crush Heart battling it out with brother Jack Heart. Then a shot of Azraith DeMitri standing over Stein with a steel pipe in hand. Ron Barker slams an opponent into the mat with Perfection, which then cuts to Adrian Corazon driving a helpless opponent into the mat via Act of Inhumanity.

“So back up!”

The footage of the SHOOT Project Soldiers rewinds now as the words “so back up” echoes in that same reverb style heard earlier. The music pauses for a moment.

Eryk Masters: It’s like nothing else!

Other Guy: Real lives, Real Violence, that’s what it’s all about.

The music kicks back in now showing some more fighting, only no one soldier is highlighted.

“We got you wearing that Fight Club glare
Steady, tearing down the club cause you just don't care”

Super-imposed over the backdrop of men and women fighting in the ring is the SHOOT Project World Tag Team titles. And faded into the front portion of the titles we see quick clips of the eight teams currently vying for the championship titles on Sky High.

“It's the realest way to feel it when the speakers pop poppin'”

Next seen is the Revolution Championship title. And slightly faded within the front portion of the title is Sinnocence who we see holding the title with a sly seductive grin on her face.

“You with it if you get it when that beat starts knockin'”

The next title that appears on the screen is the Laws of Survival Championship title. Within the belt, we see Cade Sydal standing victorious.

“And we kill it when get up on that mic, start rockin'”

From there is seen the Iron Fist Championship title. Inside the front portion of the title we see Dan Stein holding the Iron Fist Championship up high over his head.

“And you feel it when you hear it cause we're on non stoppin'”

And the last image seen is the prestigious SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship title. Within the front portion of the title belt you see Jonny Johnson once more holding the title, and the words “HOPE IS ILLUSION” scroll across.

“So ask a buddy or a friend if they know, no
We do it daily, never maybe, every show, show
Ya'll want to get down? I'm ready to roll”
Right now, y'all ready? let's get it, let's go!”

A history unmatched by any organization

Old school footage is shown of past matches in SHOOT history, done up in black and white.

“So buff, so rugged, so rough
Like a runaway train we're tearing the track up
We're at it again, we're ready to act up
So cover and duck, show us you're rocking with us”

A federation that promotes the stiffest competition

And then in full color the soldiers of today, fighting it out in the ring.

“Let's see a fist if you're rocking with this
Let me see your fist if you're rocking with this
Let's see a fist if you're rocking with this
Let me see your fist if you're rocking with this!”

The chorus repeats now as we see clips of the various arenas Revolution has been held in, the noise of the fans is added in, as we see the opening introduction to the show, the silver and blue pyrotechnics that kick every night off. Quick shots from all the different arenas and eventually the chorus fades out.

This is SHOOT Project… This is Revolution.

Cut to Black, and the Revolution logo.

 

 

Dutch Harris: After your hard fought defeat against Donovan King last week. Do you feel you really have a chance against Ron Barker tonight?

Jack Heart: Well Dutch, I’ve always been told that you can learn a lot more from a defeat than a victory. I studied last week’s match and I seen where I made some costly errors. So I…

VOICE OFFSCREEN: Heh...for a moment it almost sounds as if you are happy with the outcome of the match.

Heart turns around to see where the voice came from and he sees none other then Thomas Manchester Black staring back at him. Thomas grins as he comes into focus.

TMB: Do you really believe what you are saying, kid.

Jack Heart: This sport isn't always about winning, sometimes it's about learning. Last week I had to do some learning, but tonight is another night.

TMB: Learning...right now you aren't learning anything worth squat, Heart. Nothing besides how to get those shoulders pinned to the mat. That’s not how you want to get noticed or respect here. You keep on your path you'll be nothing more then the London version of Paul Jarvis and you saw what that got him. But if you want to change all that. I can help you...

Jack Heart: You want to help me? Sorry to sound a little skeptic but what would you have to gain in this?

TMB: Piece by piece SHOOT Project is changing. The challenge is starting to build. And as you know, I'm all about the challenge. But more then that, I'm about the truth. And the truth is you can be more then the shell that stands before me. If I bring the truth out of you, then maybe...just maybe when its time for you to face me in the ring, you might actually be worth something.

Jack Heart: I'll tell you what sunshine, I'm going to have to think this little 'pep talk' over a nice cup of tea and a crumpet. But I'll get back to you soon.

TMB walks a little closer to Heart

TMB: This is a one time off. I expect an answer by next week. Oh...if you ever call me Sunshine again, I'll make sure that you will never say another thing...period. Have a good match.

Jack Heart: I'll have my answer by next week. Now if you don't mind, can I get back to my interview?

TMB: By all means...

Black lifts his hands as Jack back around to see that Harris is long gone.

Jack Heart: Ah, bollocks.

The bell sounds throughout the Rupp Arena as all eyes turn to the ring where Samantha Coil is set to announce the opening match.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s opening match up is scheduled for one fall…

“Natural One” by Folk Implosion begins to play, sending the Kentucky crowd into a loud chorus of boos.  Ron Barker steps out from the back, a look of complete and utter distain shown on his face.

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, weighing in at 280 pounds, here is RON BARKER!!!

Eryk Masters: Well SHOOT fans, we’re kicking off Revolution here in Lexington with a match up that apparently started out as some backstage heat that is spilling out here into the ring tonight.

Other Guy: Yeah it ain’t no secret that Ron Barker is a bully in the locker rooms, hell he’s a bully out here in the ring. And I guess his most recent target is Jack Heart.

Jeff Hansen: That’s the Barker M.O. though. Some kid’s trying to get a leg up, he’s right there to knock them down a couple of pegs.

As Barker heads to the ring he adjusts the straps on his black wrestling singlet, the look of distain never leaving his face.  He slowly walks up the steps, only to stop and turn out to the fans. He raises one arm into the air, and the crowd just boos even louder.  Barker shakes his head then steps up onto the ring edge, wiping his feet on the mat before entering the ring.  From there, Barker’s music dies down and Barker just paces about the ring awaiting his opponent.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent…

“Club Foot” by Kasabian blares around the arena as Jack Heart runs out on to the stage jumping up and down spinning around.  He definitely is running on high energy and the excitement has gotten to the England native.

Samantha Coil: Weighing in tonight at 172 pounds… he is the British Kicking Machine… JACK HEART!!!

Heart jogs down the ramp slapping hands with as many fans as he can.  As a result of his high energy, the fans do start to cheer a little bit, though it’s not nearly a roaring crowd.

Other Guy: Gotta say this cat surprised me last week, guys.  He stepped up against Donovan King and though his emotions got the better of him, he looked ready to crack down and get serious.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah but how many losses will it take to break the heart of Jack Heart?  I’d say after tonight, he goes back to being an unknown courtesy of Ron Barker.

Heart jumps on to the apron before flipping over the top rope into the center of the ring Jack grins throwing a few practice kicks in the air. As he does so, Barker just watches him from the opposite side of the ring, his expression showing that he is not impressed. Heart looks to Barker now, ready for a fight and Barker over-elaborately yawns.

Eryk Masters: Barker trying to get Heart to lose it already here with that insulting yawn.

Referee Dennis Heflin looks to both men before turning and pointing to Mark Kendrick at ringside.  The bell sounds once again and Heart starts right out of his corner and begins circling the ring. Barker looks to be apathetic towards Heart but goes through the motions, almost toying with him.  Heart starts to clap his hands over his head as he circles, trying to get the fans going in this opening contest. Some claps can be heard, but they’re scattered all over the arena.

Heart suddenly lunges in at Barker for a double leg take down, but Barker stays standing, then drops to his knees CRUSHING Heart over the head with a stiff but sloppy double axe handle.  Heart is flattened out and Barker hoists him right up from there, holding him perpendicular to his right shoulder.  He squeezes hard and Heart flails trying to get down before Barker can capitalize.

Jeff Hansen: See it’s just a matter of raw power here. Ron Barker is bigger, better, smarter, and stronger.

The crowd suddenly lets out a collective pop as Heart maneuvers out of the hold and lands on his feet behind Barker.

Other Guy: But Jack Heart is quicker!

Heart hits the rope and is already coming off it by the time Barker turns around.  Barker SWINGS with a hard clothesline, but Heart ducks it and keeps running. He picks up speed and as he comes back Barker ducks just in time and HOISTS Heart up and over with a back body drop… NO! Heart lands on his feet, turns quickly…and FIRES with a solid kick to Barker’s right thigh… then another kick to his left thigh!  Barker staggers and Heart spins around and PLANTS a back kick into Barker’s gut.

Eryk Masters: Heart showing off those educated feet and as we’ve heard him say… in may ways he’s hoping to one day become the next Cade Sydal.

Other Guy: That’s a damn good goal to try to accomplish.

Jeff Hansen: What the druggie part, or the disgrace as a world champion part?

With Barker doubled over, Heart bounces off the ropes again and looks for a scissors kick attempt, but Barker dodges that and then before Heart can recover, Barker nails a spinning punch that knocks Heart down onto the mat in a sitting position. Arrogantly Barker pushes his boot into Heart’s face and shoves him all the way down onto the mat followed by a cover. 

Dennis Heflin hits the mat.

ONE!

TW… not quite a two count as Heart kicks out but Barker yanks him right up to his feet, fires a stiff chop and then SLAPS Heart across the face.  Spit flies out of the corner of Heart’s mouth as his head snaps to the side.  Barker then fires a European uppercut followed by a standing clothesline that sends Heart back down onto his back. From there Barker starts to strut about the ring, taunting both the fans and Heart alike.

Other Guy: Man Barker’s all arrogance tonight.

Jeff Hansen: As he should be. What does Jack Heart matter to him?  I mean we’re talking about the guy who could easily say that Kenji Yamada wasn’t on his radar, so imagine how far off Heart must be.

Eryk Masters: Well he must have been close enough to have this match happen.  Whether a target of bullying or Ron Barker thinking he could pick up an easy win, in either scenario Barker’s out here now and from the looks of things he’s in control.

Barker turns back to focus on Heart now who is struggling up to his feet, holding his head in slight pain.  Barker hits the ropes and looks to plow through Heart, but Heart suddenly leap frogs over Barker…

NO CAUGHT BY THE LEGS….  BUT HEART TWISTS HIS BODY and then drops down behind Barker… REVERSE DDT!!!

Eryk Masters: And a big counter there by Heart, taking Barker down.

The fans are buzzing with some excitement now and as Barker struggles up to one knee, Heart runs at the ropes in front of him, bounces off and charges in. Barker has no time to react as Heart LEAPS up onto Barker’s raised knee and the swings his leg around to KICK BARKER IN THE HEAD!

Other Guy: What a kick!

Eryk Masters: A shining enzeguri to be exact and that’s a hit Barker NEVER saw coming!

With Barker out cold, Heart quickly makes a cover, pulling up on both of Barker’s legs as much as he can. The crowd is alive, cheering now as Heflin makes the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Jeff Hansen: Seriously?

Other Guy: I didn’t think he’d pull it off this quickly either but damn, what an upset here by Jack Heart!

The bell sounds and “Clubfoot” begins to play again as Jack Heart springs up to his feet, beside himself with excitement.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match… JACK HEART!!!

Heart starts walking all over the ring, not sure which corner to go to first. The fans cheer him on, again nothing too loud, but they definitely show that they were impressed.

Eryk Masters: So in a matter of minutes this one concludes and Ron Barker just taken off complete guard by Jack Heart.

Other Guy: I guess that fight with Donovan King really snapped a couple of things together in that brain of his. This is a big time victory, but ya know it’s like King said, it’s what ya do with the victories that count. Let’s see what Jack Heart can to do with this.

Heart continues to celebrate his victory, and then the live action is replaced by a replay re-cap.

Eryk Masters: There you see it once more, that beautifully executed shining enzeguri that just nearly took Barker’s head off.

Jeff Hansen: Did we need to see that again? It was bad enough the first time.

We come back to the live happening of Revolution with Jack Heart up on the second turnbuckle in the upper right corner of the ring. He claps his hands and nods his head.  The fans cheer and Heart pumps his fist into the air a couple of times. Meanwhile, Barker is checked on by referee Dennis Heflin, and he stirs on the mat, definitely knocked for a loop.  After a bit more celebrating, Jack Heart finally takes his leave of the ring, tagging hands with the fans and still smiling and nodding his head as walks to the back.

Other Guy: Well congratulations Jack Heart and yeah we start off Revolution with an upset victory you could say… and it’s only the beginning of a night of more action as we continue down the long Road to Redemption!

Cutting to the back reveals Paul Jarvis walking down the hallway with a large grin plastered on his face despite the large noticeable purple and blue bruise under his left eye. The boos from the crowd can just barely be heard from out at ringside, but Jarvis doesn’t seem to mind.  As Jarvis continues to walk, he passes by Scott Richardson who just happens to be around going over some notes.  Jarvis stops and turns back around to face Scott.

Paul Jarvis: Wonderful night, isn’t it, Scott.

Richardson looks up from his notes and seems somewhat confused.

Scott Richardson: Paul… umm yeah it’s a nice one.  Were you scheduled for…

Richardson starts flipping through his notes but Jarvis takes the notes and puts them back down on the small table beside both men.

Paul Jarvis: How does it feel?

Richardson seems confused.

Scott Richardson: How does it feel?

Jarvis turns his body to the camera now.

Paul Jarvis: It feel great, Scott.  It feels great to know that last week I was able to do SO much good for this company and that I will continue to do so. Thanks for asking, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy the show from the comfort of the Miracle Martyr’s locker room.

With that Jarvis continues down the hall, the camera following along with him.  He reaches a door that reads “Miracle Worker” a nameplate he must have clearly put up on his own.  Jarvis pushes the door open and flips the light on.

Only to immediately take a step back after entering.

Paul Jarvis: What the…!?

Sitting on the bench further in front of Jarvis, in an all red tight dark spandex suit is The Crimson Ghost.  He sits in the classic “The Thinker” pose and appears to be totally oblivious to Jarvis’s presence.

Paul Jarvis: Hey!

His shout seems to snap The Crimson Ghost out of it and he quickly stands up out of the thinker pose.

Crimson Ghost: Oh good you came!

Jarvis seems completely confused and he looks back at the open door behind him, double checking the name on the locker room plate.

Paul Jarvis: Look I don’t know what you’re doing here, in MY locker room.

Crimson Ghost: That makes two of us feeling that way because I don’t know what you’re doing here in MY locker room.

Annoyance sets in and any bit of good mood Jarvis was in has now vanished.

Paul Jarvis: I don’t know who you are or why for the second week in a row now I’m dealing with you…. But… look at the door.  (Jarvis points) LOOK it reads “Miracle Worker.”

Crimson Ghost doesn’t budge.  Jarvis sighs and walks right up to the door and The Crimson Ghost mirrors his footsteps.  Both men now stand right by the open door.

Paul Jarvis: See?

The Ghost follows as Jarvis points to each word and suddenly he slaps the palm of his hand to the forehead of his mask.

Crimson Ghost: OOPSIES!

And then The Ghost brings both his hands to his hips while shaking his head.

Crimson Ghost: I thought it read Crimson Ghost… AWK-WARD!

He just keeps shaking his head, but doesn’t even attempt to leave the locker room.

Paul Jarvis: Well?

Crimson Ghost: Yes, very. And how are you?

Jarvis has to take a VERY deep breath to remain calm.  He then raises his hand and points out the door.

Paul Jarvis: Get out. of my. Locker room.

Crimson Ghost: Oh, it’s yours!  Okay.

Jarvis is beside himself but Crimson Ghost starts to leave, only to turn right back around.

Crimson Ghost: Can I hang out here anyway?  I figured you and me being hey guys and all…

Jarvis raises a curious eyebrow.

Paul Jarvis: Wait, what?  Hey guys?

The Ghost nods.

Crimson Ghost: Yeah, last week. You said hey, then I said hey. I even waved!  We’re like this now.

Ghost clutches his hands together tightly to represent how “tight” Jarvis and The Ghost are.

Paul Jarvis: Get out of here.

Crimson Ghost: No I’m serious, we’re tight.  Me and you Miracle Man!

Jarvis lowers his head and shakes it back and forth a couple of times.  He then lifts it back up, showing defeat in his eyes.

Paul Jarvis: Fine… I’ll leave.

With that, Jarvis exits his own locker room and The Crimson Ghost steps into the doorway looking on after him with a wave.

Crimson Ghost: Okay, thanks for stopping by!

The Ghost closes the door, and the camera focuses on the nameplate one last time that reads “The Miracle Worker.”

Coming back to the ring area, “Line Em Up” by Freeway with Young Chris starts up over the PA system, drawing a loud amount of boos for the man known as "The Queen City Hitman". TMB comes out from behind the curtains wearing Grey sweat pants and blackboots. He tops that off by wearing a Grey North Carolina Tar Heels Hoodie. Black hardly looks out from the hoodie as he walks toward the ring. He stops and cracks his knuckles before raising his hands in the air. TMB continues to make his way down the ramp way, soaking up the boos that are tossed his way. TMB makes his way up the steel steps and steps over the top rope and doesn't even look at the ring announcer  as he makes his way to the far right corner. He smirks at the crowd as they hurl insults at him and he just brushes them off. He turns around and faces a ringhand that is standing on the outside of the ring. TMB reaches out his hand and is handed a mic.

TMB: You see I was all set to come out here and….

Black pauses as if he had been interrupted.

TMB: No…people deserve to hear the truth. Yeah, I know that…but someone has to say it.

TMB has a determined look on his face as he continues to talk to the crowd.

TMB: Sorry about that…when “The Man” talks, you gotta listen, right Paulie?

TMB: Anyway, like I was saying, I was all set to walk out to this ring. Grab the mic like so and run down that coward, Paul Jarvis. I was all ready to challenge him to a hardcore match and bleed him and beat him until he realizes that maybe he is choosing a wrong path. But then I had a talk with “The Man”…

Once again TMB pauses this time looking in the air. He continues to talk but this time his eyes are focused up in the air.

TMB: Yes, I’m telling them that this was your idea. No…I’m not going to take credit for it. How do you know…you’re watching me!! I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to yell. May I finish please? Thank you.

Thomas looks back at the crowd and continues.

TMB: “The Man” respects my path to revel the truth. And as a sign of good faith, he reveled to me the truth of Paul Jarvis. And as I listened, it all became clear. It became very clear to me what happened. You see Jarvis for all his talk of being a martyr, knew the outcome of the match as soon as he made the mistake of signing. He knew he wasn’t going to beat me. There was no way in Hell…

TMB winces as if he just got yelled at.

TMB: I’m sorry…I should of chosen a better word.

TMB: Where was I….yeah, he know that there was no way he was going to beat me. So he did the only thing that a man in his position could do. And that is to give up and not do anything. That way when he loses he can say…oh I lose because I am the miracle martyr and by allowing people to beat me, it’ll bring everyone together. But let the truth be none, Paul. You aren’t trying to bring anyone together. You are a washed up but still require the brilliance of the spotlight. So you have come up with a real good gimmick to explain why you’d be getting your ass kicked all over the fed. But hey, I understand. If I knew I didn’t have the skills to get it done I would come up with a gimmick to cover it up too. I’m not upset at you…I pity you. If this is what you have become then so be it.

TMB lifts his head and speaks.

 TMB: Oh, OK…I’ll let you go. But make sure Jason gets my message.

TMB pushes his hoodie back to revel a Bluetooth earpiece in his ear. He pushes the end talk button and looks at the crowd for a moment in shock.

TMB: Oh…you didn’t think I was really talking to God, did you? Heh…what I look like Paul Jarvis. Anyway that was Jason Johnson’s gardener, Jose “The Man” Ramirez. I was leaving a message for Jason, when I was told it was my time to come out.  Yeah, I know he is in the building, but he has other things to worry about right now. I didn’t want to bother him…and speaking about being bothered. I am real bothered by what happened last week.

Small chants of “You got fucked up” float through the crowd.

TMB: Yes, you are right, I did. But there is no reason to bring up what I did with your older sister right now, so let me continue. Sinn…I tried to extend my hand to you and help you out in your time of need. But you turned me down. I made nothing off it and dismissed it to your emotions running the show. But then, then you went and hit me with a bat. You see you could of done a whole bunch of other things in the spot your were in, but hitting me with a bat wasn’t the best of options. But don’t worry, eventually that little debt will get paid off rather you like it or not. Believe me.

But on to the real reason why I’m here. I hear the rumble is coming up. A rumble that holds a chance of a life time for whoever wins it. All that chaos over one shot. And come on…you know how I love chaos. But I hear someone else has come out to claim that they will win that little match. When the truth is…how can you claim that you are going to win when you don’t exactly know who is gonna be in the match. And well, Jason asked the question…and what kind of man would I be if I let that question go unanswered. Because we all know that I am more then bad enough. And you know me, I’m not about the will and can…I’m about the when. So just incase some of you are walking around in a Jarvis state of mind. TMB stands…I JUST ENTERED THE RUMBLE!!!!

TMB drops the mic and steps out of the ring. His music plays as he makes his way up the rampway and through the curtain.

The camera cuts to a large hallway in the back, where Azraith DeMitri was standing, talking to a ring-tech with a broad grin on his lips. He was wearing a pair of black denim bluejeans and a black T-shirt that read "WE ARE THE DEAD" in bright red scrawling lettering.

Azraith: So yeah, I was sitting there in my locker room that night, watching myself get it on with Victoria on a huge-ass screen at that show. It was kinda ballsy at the time, but I swear to whatever God you might wanna believe in it was one of the coolest fucking things. She kicked my ass that night, I didn't tell her I was gonna 'leak' it, heh...it was worth it...

His train of thought is suddenly cut off when someone rams into him and nearly knocks the tall man off of his feet. His assailant, we find out as the camera pans down is none of other than the Revolution Champion, Sinnocence. She's been knocked to the floor and shakes her head to clear the cobwebs.

Sinnocence: What the--

Az, for his part, actually staggers forward a step or two, turning around swiftly to counter any attack that might have been forthcoming, but furrows his brow when he looks down at Sinn. His eyes glance over her briefly, the bright red cuts that still seem pretty fresh...he shakes his head out and reaches his hand out to her.

Azraith: Jeez, girl, ya gotta keep your eyes on the road...you okay? Looks like you were on the losing end of a fight with a bandsaw. Jada, right? Damn impres...

Sinn, for her part, doesn't say anything at first. She stands up as he speaks and pulls her t-shirt back down. The fresh cuts from her attacker last last week still causing her untold pain, both physically and mentally. The Revolution Champ sneers and mumbles to herself for a moment.

Sinnocence: Goddamn...motherfucker...

From out of nowhere, the raven-haired beauty launches herself at the bigger man...throwing hard lefts and rights, enough to knock him back several paces and eventually on the ground. Like a lion sensing wounded prey, she jumps on him and rains down punches.

Sinnocence: FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKER!!

The ring-tech back steps out of the way rapidly, running off to hopefully grab some security, meanwhile Az does the best he can to cover up in his crouched position on the ground. Several punches land flush, however, and Az's arms drop to a wobbly position by his arms. Sinn glares down at Az for a brief moment before lunging forward and SMASHING a knee clean into his chest and lower throat! As Azraith begins to cough violently, several referees and security guards rush the scene, attempting to pull the Revolution champion away. She lets out a scream as she fights them, taking nearly six men to hold the adrenaline-charged stripper back. They continue to push her back and the ring-tech tries to help Azraith to his feet.

Sinnocence: This isn't over, asshole!!

When they've pushed her back far enough and formed a literal human wall across the width of the hallway, Sinn gives up the fight and makes her retreat. Slowly, as she retreats, Azraith manages to get back to his feet. His face from the nose-down is quickly reddening with blood that's pouring from his nose. His hand scrapes across his mouth before he wipes it on the wall behind him. He's silent a long moment as he watches her stalk down the hallway before just shaking his head and snarling out...

Azraith: What the FUCK was that?!

Az tries to walk a couple of steps forward but feels his leg start to give out on him. Thankfully a ring-tech helps him keep his balance. DeMitri looks embarrassed, and quickly waves the young man off, his face grimacing before he stands tall, rolling his neck before stalking off to his locker room.

The opening notes of Agent Provocateur’s “Red Tape” Hits, and the fans begin coming out of their seats in anticipation of the high energy Hawaiian.

 

Other Guy: Lockup is coming to the ring, and by the look on his face, he’s not letting last week’s loss affect him.

 

Jeff Hansen: Well, he didn’t get HIS shoulder’s put to the mat, but it’s either a win or a loss, and his hand didn’t exactly go up either.

 

Lockup, dressed in a University of Kentucky jersey and some of SHOOT’s own licensed merchandise, in the way of a backwards ‘Sons of Liberty’ baseball cap, moves down the ramp, taking a few moments to slap and shake hands with the fans as he makes his approach.

 

Eryk Masters: I don’t think there are many people that take the fans more seriously than this guy.

 

Jeff Hansen: He’s a Pop-Hound Eryk, but getting the crowd behind you can definitely win you a match. It’s not as good as raw skill, but this kid’s got some of that too.

 

Other Guy: With a mix of Martial Arts striking, and technical submissions, Lockup is prepared to meet most any opponent in the ring.

 

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, from Honolulu Hawaii, weighing in at two hundred forty pounds, he is the Tapout Artist… LOCKUP!

 

The crowd, who’s been on their feet cheering, keep up their excitement as Lockup climbs each turnbuckle to wave the shaka with both hands, grinning almost impossibly wide at the crowd as he does so. Once he’s finished on the fourth turnbuckle, he hops down and gestures at Samantha’s microphone.

 

Lockup: Hey, music guy, cut the intro please. Thanks brah.

 

Other Guy: Apparently he’s got something to say.

 

Jeff Hansen: Really?

 

Lockup: Last week, it was Eightball, Crimson Ghost, and me. Three way dance, and you know, I think maybe everybody watching didn’t get their money’s worth outta that match, ya? Kinda quick, and I know I coulda done better, so I figure, I owe it to you to give you more this week. Ghost, he got his shoulders put to the mat, and I bet he don’t like that none, so I got a proposition. I know you listenin’ Ghost, so whaddya say Brah? Hows about we give these people a real show?

 

Eryk Masters: What do you think he’s got in mind?

 

Other Guy: Hard telling, but it’s clear he intends to give a good show when he comes out.

 

Lockup walks a slow circle around the ring, looking thoughtful for a moment before speaking up again.

 

Lockup: I’m thinking, how about Extreme Rules. No count-out, no disqualification, no holds barred, falls count anywhere!

 

The crowd cheers wildly, in what’s possibly Lockup’s biggest pop yet. In the ring, he stands there, soaking it up with a wide grin.

 

Lockup: So, you in Brah?

 

And with that, he hands Samantha Coil the microphone back and leans easily against a far turnbuckle.

 

Jeff Hansen: Well, I didn’t think he had it in him. Apparently this guy’s got some cojones. So long as Ghost doesn’t puss, this might be worth calling.

 

All of a sudden, we hear a loud commotion and look over in the stands, and there is Ghost, wearing a rubber sort of red skeleton mask, his red eyes glinting crazily. He is wearing a deep red body suit with various black markings, especially a thing that covers his chest, Ultimo Dragon style. This vest-like thing leads up to his black hood, which hides his hair and makes his visage especially menacing. Instead of black gloves, to better wield weapons and also to soften his punches less, he has opted for black electrical tape, wrapped around his fists and forearms much like the TMBs and the Cade Sydals of this industry. He has standard black boots, but around his neck he wears a colorful lei of flowers, and he is doing the Luau. The audience all laughs and applauds as Ghost comes halfway through the ramp.

 

Other Guy: He sure knows how to make an entrance, that’s for sure.

 

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, if by entrance you mean wasting time.

 

All of a sudden, the music is cut out. The song is by 'Crimson Ghost', by the Misfits. Ghost stands straight out of nowhere, and shaking his head violently he books it toward the barricade, hopping unto it, and then cartwheeling off of it nuttily, stalking up to the ring and rolling inside, going to one knee and having an intense staredown with Lockup.

 

Eryk Masters: And here’s the Crimson Ghost. I’m really liking this guy. Doesn’t take himself seriously, has a good time, and he’s got a definite grounding in classic Lucha.

 

Jeff Hansen: How much did he pay you to say that?

 

Other Guy: Shut up, I wanna see this.

 

Samantha Coil: And his opponent, from Chatsworth California, weighing in at two hundred twenty four pounds, this is CRIMSON GHOST!

 

Neither man moves, Lockup sort of smirking at what a nutjob Crimson Ghost is. Then with a sudden movement, Ghost hops to his feet, and snatches the mic from Lockup at the same time as he hands him the lei, standing obnoxiously close as he begins to speak.

 

The Crimson Ghost: Well, well well...Extreme Rules, eh? I was worried, back there, that this was gonna be some ploy to get ol' Crimson Ghost to sell snowboards or something...The hell do I look like, Shaun White? Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk. But, Extreme Rules...whatever we want to use, wherever we wanna take the fight, it's all open...y'know what? I haven't done one of those in a while! Yeah, y'know what, fella, how great of you to ask me! I LIKE THE CUT OF YER JIB, FELLA! AAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHA! LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!

 

Other Guy: And this match is underway as Lockup and Ghost exchange a wary handshake.

 

Eryk Masters: And immediately Lockup is on the offensive, going for a collar and elbow tieup.

 

Ghost, on the business end of an Irish whip, hits the ropes, hops over Lockup who’s dropped face first on the mat. On his second rebound, Lockup goes for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, but it’s immediately and gracefully countered into a hurricanrana, which is chained into an arm toss.

 

Other Guy: Amazing show of agility from the Luchadore as he brings himself to his feet, showboating for the crowd.

 

Jeff Hansen: I didn’t know I’d bought tickets to the circus. This is a wrestling ring, not the center ring.

 

As Ghost showboats, it gives Lockup plenty of time to get to his feet. With Ghost’s back turned to the Hawaiian, it has him in perfect position for a Dragon Suplex. Lockup however, doesn’t bridge for a pin, he instead chains it, slamming Ghost twice more onto the back of his head.

 

Eryk Masters: And the Crimson Ghost is reeling from THAT suplex combo.

 

Ghost gets up from the combo and shakes his head out. Lockup moves towards him, but Ghost is faster, ducking and sliding out of the ring. Lockup smiles and nods, and waits as Ghost reaches under the ring…

 

Other Guy: And so it begins…

 

Jeff Hansen: Finally, this match gets interesting.

 

Before long, the ring is littered with foreign objects, ranging from kendo sticks, stop signs, trash cans, cookie pans, a two by four, tables, a ladder, and God knows what else. Ghost slips back into the ring, and the arms race begins. Lockup reaches for a trash can, Ghost for a Kendo Stick, and they rush each other. WHAM! Lockup eats kendo stick in the midsection, making him drop the trash can. Ghost picks it up, and quickly shoves it over Lockup’s head, shoulders, and arms, and begins pounding the everloving hell out of it. After a few moments of this, Ghost drops the kendo stick, leans against the ropes, and comes running at a still wrapped in trash can Lockup.

 

Eryk Masters: He’s going for a drop kick.

 

Other Guy: And Lockup falls down… Ghost misses… OUCH!

 

As Lockup falls over, unaware that a dropkick was in fact coming for him, Ghost overshoots, and winds up planting himself on a still folded ladder. Lockup uses the time to get himself free and come to his senses. Both men square off again, and it’s another tie up. Lockup turns the tie up into a Thai clinch and begins driving knees into Ghost’s face and midsection.

 

Other Guy: Lockup showing off those tremendous martial arts skills.

 

Eryk Masters: And he turns the Thai Clinch into a front headlock, and lifts him into a front suplex.

 

Lockup lifts Ghost straight up and lets him hang a moment before planting the Luchadore squarely on top of the same ladder that he’d landed on previously. Ghost rolls off, clutching his ribs. Lockup reaches for him, and it’s a LOW BLOW… landed solidly. Jenkins says nothing, but he does make a slightly sympathetic face. Ghost doesn’t relent, kicking Lockup over in a very 300 style with a boot to the face. He picks up the folding ladder, and lays it across the top rope in a very fulcrum style manner. He then lays a still prone Lockup on the end laying on the mat, and goes to the top rope.

 

Other Guy: Is he doing what I think he’s doing?

 

Jeff Hansen: If he is, this is going to get good, quick.

 

Ghost leaps in a flying stomp, but he’s not aiming for the still prone Lockup. Instead, he aims for the end of the ladder laying across the ropes. He plants it, drives it’s weight down, and the result of his effort tosses Lockup a good 5 feet straight up, to land face-first on the top of the ladder that was just used to flip him.

 

Eryk Masters: High risk payed off, but now Ghost is on the outside. He’s definitely in control of this match, but I think Lockup might be mailing this Lucha the dentist bill. He’s probably just lost teeth.

 

Other Guy: And he’s bleeding, so first blood goes to Ghost in the early moments of this match.

Ghost wastes no time after recovering from his fall. He drags Lockup out by the ankle, and irish whips him into the barricade. From there, he hops onto the apron, takes a run, and lands a flying wheel kick into the face and chest of the Hawaiian cop. They both go down from the impact, and for a moment, they both lie there, recovering for a moment. It’s not long before they both get to their feet. Lockup moves with a vengeance, landing a series of punches before rocking Ghost hard with a right elbow. He chains this into a snap DDT, and leaves Ghost laying while he looks for something new to cause some damage with.

 

Jeff Hansen: Bad move, leaving Ghost laying. He’s hurting, but nowhere near bad enough.

 

Eryk Masters: And here’s why. Ghost has just gotten himself a length of chain. Yeah, he’s beating  him with it.

 

Other Guy: Yeah, and now he’s choking the SWAT cop with said chain, and dragging him outside of the arena.

 

Jeff Hansen: You know, just when things were starting to get good, we’ve got to cut. We’ll check back in on them later.

The camera opens up in the back, with Cade Sydal as he finishes lacing up his shoe. The fans cheer and Cade grins. He pulls the kickpad down and puts the strap over the kickpad and turns to his locker and grabs a fresh bottle of water and opens it before there’s a knock on the door.

Cade Sydal: Come in!

Cade takes a drink of water, and Dan Stein pokes his head in, and the fans cheer loudly again.

Dan Stein: Hey man, are you ready for this interview?

Cade Sydal: Shit, already? Yeah. I’ll be right there.

Cade caps the bottle and thrusts it back into his locker before he walks out the door. The camera holds on the door for a long while, creating a definite sense of confusion for those viewers at home.

Eryk Masters: Why...why are we still watching Cade’s locker room?

Finally, the door to Cade’s locker room creaks open ever so slowly, and a head peeks in: That of Kilgore Stochansky.

Kilgore Stochansky: Ah, Intrepid, you’re here, good…

Our man slides in, looking like a caricature of someone trying to be sneaky. He traipses over to the locker like Solid Snake, hugging corners and staying low, despite the fact that Intrepid Cameraman is the only other person here.

Kilgore Stochansky: Cade, Cade, Cade…

Stochansky picks up the water bottle that Sydal drank from earlier, inspecting it with a bit of scrutiny, wiggling his moustache a little bit. With his other hand, he reaches into his track jacket pocket, and produces a ziplock bag containing three white pills.

Kilgore Stochansky: …maybe now you can see the toll that your hubris takes?

Calmly, as if this is just as simple a rote action as unlocking one’s car, Stochansky sets the bag of pills on the bench seat and sits down himself. He reaches into his tights and comes out with his brass knuckles, which he settles on his fingers. Swiftly, he grinds the pills into a fine dust, making sure the get every last bit with his knuckledusters. He slides them back into his tights, and then opens the bottle of water.

Kilgore Stochansky: And, for the piece de resistance…
Our man sets the bottle down, and then opens the bag full of pill dust. He slowly, slowly pours the contents of the bag into the bottle, making a little mess.

Kilgore Stochansky: …Let’s just see what kind of hero you are, shall we?

Stochansky puts the cap back on the bottle and shakes it quite thoroughly, until it doesn’t look like there’s anything inside it at all. Just to be sure, as he stuffs the baggie into his pocket, he produces a handkerchief and wipes the bottle down before making sure that any stray pill dust is wiped from the seat.

Kilgore Stochansky: I amaze myself sometimes…I really do.

He resumes the Solid Snake sneaking routine, executing an awkward forward roll before peering out of the locker room door. After making sure the coast is clear, he slides out of the locker room, and we can hear him whistling in the hallway...

Other Guy: What the fuck?! Kilgore just broke up pills and put them in Cade’s water!

Jeff Hansen: Wow...that’s going to make the main event really interesting...

Eryk Masters: Dutch Harris is backstage with Cade Sydal and Dan Stein right now! Dutch, can you hear us?!

The shot goes backstage with Dutch pressing an earpiece into his ear.

Dutch Harris: Yeah guys...what’s up?

Eryk Masters: Dutch, look. You’ve got to tell Cade not to drink the water!

Suddenly, Dan Stein’s voice is heard and the camera pans out to see Cade Sydal and Dan Stein, both grinning.

Dan Stein: Hey are we, uhh, on?

Dutch turns around and nods.

Dutch Harris: Eryk, I can’t understand you. I’ll get back to you after the interview. Ladies and gentlemen, I am joined here tonight by one half of the main event! The reuniting team of Cade Sydal and Dan Stein!

The fans in the arena pop, and both Cade Sydal and Dan Stein grin to each other and no appreciatively.

Dutch Harris: I’m sorry...what was your team called?

The two look at each other, and Cadedecides to answer.
Cade Sydal: It was Technical Ecstacy...but we spelled it funky. I don’t honestly remember why.

Dan Stein: Spelling things with Y’s instead of I’s was the trendy thing to do.

Cade Sydal: That’s right! And we used a K instead of a C and an H. And Ecstacy we spelled like X-T-C. Or some such nonsense.

The two shrug and a few fans laugh at the ridiculousness of their banter, which gets a smirk from Cade.

Dutch Harris: Fair enough, fellas. Now, tonight you’re facing Trey Willett, a man that challenged for your Laws of Survival Championship last week, Cade. And Kilgore Stochansky, a man that is actively seeking to take that very same title from you. So I have to ask, Dan Stein...what do you have to gain from teaming with Cade tonight?

Dan Stein: Wow, the big guns, huh? I know we weren’t as successful as a tag team as D & C was. But Cade and I are like brothers. I let him fight his wars last year alone, because he told me he needed to. Now, though, its obvious Cade needs my help. When a brother needs my help, I help him out. Tonight, I’m going to help him out by knocking either Trey Willett or Kilgore Stochansky smooth the fuck out.

Cade Sydal: Not if I rip their shoulders out of their socket and make them submit like little Catholic schoolgirl bitches during their after school activities. You know the ones, where they dress up in black leather, take their hair from pigtails to ponytails, smear on the red lipstick, and chain themselves to walls.

Dutch Harris and Dan Stein stare at Cade, and he shrugs.

Cade Sydal: What?

Dutch Harris: Uhhh, nothing, man. Nothing at all.

Dan Stein: You’re into some weird shit, huh?

Cade Sydal:...maybe...So what if I am?

Dutch Harris: Aaanyway. Good luck tonight fellas. I know I’m supposed to be impartial, but I’ll be rooting for you.

Dutch shakes both of their hands and Cade Sydal and Dan Stein start walking back down the hallway.

Dutch Harris: Back to you guys, Eryk Masters!

Eryk Masters: Stop Cade! Tell him not to drin–

Jeff Hansen: Its too late, Eryk. You’re just going to have to watch this one play out.

Other Guy: This is not going to be a good night for Cade Sydal.

Jeff Hansen: Not unless those were steroids.

Revolution abruptly fades to black… then there seems to be a couple of flickers of static and then a quick glimpse of what appears to be a bubbling pool of red liquid, then…

The screen comes up to Vincent Mallows sitting calmly in a rickety rocking chair.  He moves back and forth, and with each movement comes the creak and squeak of the chair.  His eyes are closed as he rocks, but then he stops.

No more squeaks, no more creaks. No more movement.

His eyes open.

Vincent Mallows: Due to the ruling of Jason Johnson and the SHOOT Project committee, I am unable to deliver this message to the masses in person.  Trust that this so called punishment, banning me from every arena that I am not actively competing in, has become a blessing.  Believe you me I do not miss having to hear your incessant booing.  I do not miss your attempts at trying to drown me out.

No, because of this “punishment” I am guaranteed your undivided attention completely free of interruption.

His eyes close again, but only for a moment before they flicker back open.

Vincent Mallows: Some of you are just joining the events unfolding already in progress. Others have witnessed it from the very beginning; you have watched us from day one.  Enigma and Cash we were back then… only I dropped the gimmick associated with my name. I dropped the make believe.

Enigma never did.

All of you, though, are on the same page when it comes to where we are now. Sure some of you may not know how we got here, some of you may be constantly questioning where we are going and I will tell you this true…

We are not going anywhere fun.

His eyes narrow with contempt.

Vincent Mallows: You have to realize that the hero you cheer is not a hero, is not even the man you all see him as.  You are cheering him as if this was just a chain of wrestling matches.  Unfortunately you don’t know… or maybe you do know but you’re in a state of denial.

Let me make this perfectly clear whether you’re apart of the former or the latter.  Let me put it as precise as I most possibly can.

This chain of matches, this string of fights, it will NOT see a winner.  One of us will lose, yes.  One of us will fall to four matches, but NOBODY wins this.  And I’m okay with that.  I’m more than okay with being dragged down alongside him.  I’m more than okay dragging him down with me as we plummet to an ultimate demise.

The question though is…. Will he be okay?

His eyes close again.

Vincent Mallows: And what about all of you?

He starts rocking back and forth once more as the scene fades quickly to black.  You hear the creaking and the squeaking… very repetitive in nature.  Then it stops.

Vincent Mallows: Will you be okay when he’s gone?

Other Guy: Let’s check back in with Crimson Ghost and Lockup, with the match already in progress.

 

Jeff Hansen: You’re shitting me. They’re fighting in a sorority house?

 

Eryk Masters: Lucky bastards. It looks like they’ve already laid more waste to the Sorority house than any pack of frat boys ever dreamt of.

 

Inside the house, Ghost gets tossed into a wall, where a few scantily clad sorority girls dart out of the way. The camera pans and it shows Lockup at the top of the stairwell on a small balcony. He steps back and takes a flying leap, planting a sky high elbow drop on the Luchadore. They reel for a few moments before Lockup picks Ghost up and Irish whips him into another room. Ghost plows through the door, taking it off it’s hinges, and lands face down atop it. Lockup is immediately on him, looking for something to hurt the man with.

 

Other Guy: He can’t be.

 

Eryk Masters: He is. He’s digging through their laundry.

 

Jeff Hansen: Is he choking Ghost out with a thong?

 

Eryk Masters: Told you. Lucky bastards.

 

Chris Jenkins, who’s obviously exhausted from chasing these two athletes, checks Ghost. The man hangs on, fighting for air, before grabbing a good handful of Lockup’s hair, forcing the Hawaiian to release the hold. After that, it’s an elbow to the jaw and Ghost is up. He looks at one of the sorority girls, and hands her the skimpy pair of panties back. She smiles, pushes them against his chest and winks.

 

Jeff Hansen: Lucky she can’t see his face, she wouldn’t be telling him to keep them otherwise.

 

Other Guy: Hey, everybody gets a chance, except Ghost, whose just been locked into a classic sleeper hold by Lockup.

 

Lockup applies the pressure and begins jerking Ghost around, forcing the Luchadore to exert himself further to get a breath. In a fit of desperation, he runs his feet up the wall nearby and pushes off with a bit of spin, forcing the both of them through the plate glass of the front window of the sorority house.

 

The mellow opening trumpet of “Always Sayin'” has the crowd spitting boos as Nova Lynn Jackson steps through the entrance. She's still obviously shaken by their mistreatment of her, but as she looks around she doesn't question it anymore; she's just gotten used to it. She sighs heavily as she starts her walk to the ring, a hint of a scowl on her face.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Virginia Beach, VA, NOVA LYNN JACKSON!

Eryk Masters: Looks to me like Nova's still got a chip on her shoulder, despite Sinn's apology.

Jeff Hansen: I'm not surprised. Sinn's two-faced and obviously unhinged, as her actions last week show. Obviously, Nova doesn't trust her, and I'd say she's in the right.

Other Guy: Well, whatever her opinion on the matter, she's got her chance to do something about it tonight, the question is whether she has the ability? Nova hasn't been in the ring in a while, and Sinn is the Revolution champ. Nova's got an uphill battle ahead of her.

Nova walks up the steps, stepping under the second rope, and walking to her corner with little fanfare. She starts to stretch, eyes on the entrance.

The crowd begins to rise out of their seats, some cheering, some booing reluctantly, others catcalling, the opening of Ozzy Osbourne's "Gets Me Through" just starting to hit the PA system. A confident Sinnocence struts out all wrapped in black leather with a look on her face that could make a man melt. Stitched into the leather across her ass is "Victory or Valhalla!", an obvious tribute to her Viking lover.

She strikes a pose, showing off the lovely gold belt around her waist before continuing her way down the ramp. The Revolution Champion stares straight ahead, ignoring the catcalls and boos from the crowd.

Samantha Coil: And her opponent, from Las Vegas, NV and weighing in at 161 pounds, she is the SHOOT Project Revolution Champion, Sinnocence!!

Sinnocence unbuckles the belt from around her waist as she begins to climb the stairs into the ring. She hands it off to the ref and glares over at the woman already in the ring. She's ready to kick ass, even though she looks like she doesn't really want to.

Other Guy: Sinn looks like maybe she'd rather be somewhere else right now.

Jeff Hansen: She knows she fucked up and now she's gotta deal with a pissed off Nova.

Eryk Masters: Definitely a frightening thought.

Jeff Hansen: Hey, have you ever seen Nova angry? I mean, really angry? You never know what she could be capable of.

The bell rings, and the two women face off in the center of the ring. Nova starts the hostilities by laying a heavy slap across Sinn's face! Sinnocence looks shocked, but before she can do much of anything, Nova drops her to the mat with a clothesline! Sinn pops up, but Nova puts her back down with a dropkick! Both women hop up again, and this time Nova quickly brings the champion to the mat with a head-scissor takedown! Nova drops down, repeatedly slapping Sinnocence across the face! Sinn grabs Nova by the shoulders, and rolls over her for a cover! Not even a one count as Nova kicks out, and jumps right back up to her feet!

Sinn gets up as well, and the pair circle each other. Nova locks up, but Sinn throws her down with a hiptoss! Nova rolls through, back on her feet, but Sinn puts her back down with an armdrag! Sinn holds on, wrapping her legs around Nova's arm and head with a triangle hold! Nova looks like her eyes are going to bug out, and tries to shake her head, but Sinn tightens the hold! Nova kicks a foot out, just barely catching it on the rope, and Willie Dean calls for a break!

Eryk Masters: Good knowledge of ring position from Nova.

Other Guy: More like lucky ring positioning, Eryk. Another few seconds, and Nova would've had to tap or deal with some serious problems.

Sinn reluctantly breaks the hold, getting back to her feet as Nova clutches her arm. Sinnocence pulls her to her feet, whipping her to the ropes, and Sinn brings her up, and straight back down with a backdrop! Nova hits the mat hard, bouncing up and holding her back, and Sinn pulls her up-- jawbreaker from Nova! Sinn stumbles back, holding her mouth, and Nova knocks her in the face with a spinning wheel kick! Sinn flops onto her back, and Nova hits the second rope with a moonsault! Nova covers!

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout!

Other Guy: Smart move, waiting for the count before kicking out, take the rest time anywhere you can get it.

Jeff Hansen: If it's one thing Sinnocence is good at, it's using the time on her back productively.

Eryk Masters: Ouch. Sick burn.

Jeff Hansen: C'mon, OG, you wish you had thought of it first...

Other Guy: ...yeah.

Nova pulls Sinnocence up, and whips her to the corner. Sinn crashes into the turnbuckles, and Nova charges in with a spear-- Sinn pulls her body up, and Nova hits the ringpost! Sinnocence wraps her legs around Nova's waist, and brings her down in a sunset flip for the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout!

Jeff Hansen: If it's one thing Nova Lynn knows, it's--

Other Guy: Joke's old already, Jeff.

Jeff Hansen: Thought it had one more in it, my bad.

Sinn pulls Nova to her feet, turning her around into a rear waistlock, and she sends her sailing over her head with a German suplex! Nova hits hard, and Sinn is quick to hop to the apron, slinging herself over the top rope to drop a leg across Nova's neck! Sinn grabs Nova's arm, and pulls her into a majistral cradle!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-- Kickout!

Nova kicks out at the last second, and Sinn looks a little frustrated! She pulls Nova up by the hair, and gets behind her in a rear waistlock once more, tossing her over her head-- Nova lands on her feet! Sinn turns around, and gets a shuffle side kick to the face for her efforts! Sinn hits the mat, and Nova flattens her with a running senton!

The champ is out on the mat, and Nova gets her to her feet, tossing the groggy Sinn to the ropes. Sinn returns to a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, and Nova makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-- Nova is startled! She breaks the count, looking at Sinnocence's bleeding mouth!

Nova: Ohmygod I'm sorry!

Nova leans over, and gives her a small peck on her lips, before resuming the cover!

ONE!

Kickout!

Eryk Masters: What was that about?!

Other Guy: Apparently, Nova's anger with Sinn disappeared when she realized she actually hurt her friend!

Jeff Hansen: I'd think Sinn was faking it, but I don't want to give her that kind of credit.

Sinn stumbles to her feet, a little dazed, and ducks a quick clothesline from Nova! Nova turns around, and Sinnocence puts a boot to her abdomen, slamming her head to the mat with a DDT! Nova rolls over, and Sinn shakes out the cobwebs, grabbing Nova's leg, and dropping into a leglock! Nova's eyes immediately widen again, and she pushes herself up on her hands! Nova's shaking her head fiercely as Sinnocence cinches tighter, and Nova yelps! Willie Dean drops to the mat, checking on Nova, who is still shaking her head wildly! She tries to pry Sinn's arms and legs off of her own leg, but to no avail! Finally, she brings her other leg over, kicking Sinn in the shoulder and arm, and Sinn has to break the hold after a clean shot the side of her head!

Nova rolls to her side, clutching her thigh and knee, as Sinn gets to her feet again, shaking her head. Sinn stumbles into the corner, holding the side of her head, and Nova is barely getting to her feet now, favoring her right leg. Nova takes a few steps, until she sees Sinn in the corner, and tries to charge her with a splash! Sinn turns around, and knocks Nova off her feet with a dropkick to her right knee! Nova falls forward onto the top turnbuckle, and collapses to the mat!

Other Guy: Nova tried to turn the tide there, but Sinn's just on top of her game tonight.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, for someone who's really sorry about what she did, she's really taking it to her friend today.

Eryk Masters: Hey, a match is a match. You give it everything no matter who you're up against, or you don't get very far.

Jeff Hansen: Thank you, Dr. Cliché.

Sinnocence grabs Nova out of the corner, whipping her around and into a Northern Lights suplex-- no! Nova doesn't budge, and she plants Sinn with a DDT! Nova drops a leg across Sinnocence's neck, and gets back to her feet (still favoring the right leg slightly). She pulls Sinn over to the ropes, jutting her head out off of the apron. Nova slings herself over the top rope to the outside, dropping a leg across Sinn's throat! Sinnocence nearly flips over the ropes to the outside, and Nova hits the floor hard! The crowd goes batty!

Nova holds her already hurt leg, trying her best to get up as Willie Dean starts a count! Nova gingerly gets to her feet, pulling Sinnocence by her head a little further off of the apron... and dropping her with a DDT to the floor! Sinn rolls over onto her back, and Nova once more tries to get to her feet, using the timekeeper's table to prop herself up! She takes another couple of steps, putting as little weight as possible on her leg, and Sinn is just barely starting to stir! She's taken a beating to the head, and doesn't quite look to know where she is, but as soon as Nova gets close, Sinn explodes to her feet with a clothesline to put them both back on the floor!

Sinn is the first to her feet this time, pulling Nova to her feet and whipping her hard into the ring apron! Nova's back hits with a loud thud, and her face contorts in pain! Sinn bounces Nova's head off the apron, before rolling her into the ring! Sinn climbs the ropes, and Nova gets to her feet, turning around straight into a missile dropkick from the champion! Nova flips over onto her stomach, and Sinn rolls her over for a cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Willie Dean holds up two fingers, Nova kicked out JUST in time!

Eryk Masters: Sinnocence thinking this one was over, but Nova's still got some presence of mind to kick out!

Other Guy: Both ladies running on instinct here, it seems.

Jeff Hansen: Nah, if that were the case, there'd be a lot more Jello and a lot less clothing.

Other Guy: OK, then I wish they were running on instinct.

Sinn looks to be about ready to argue with Willie Dean, but Dean is adamant about the kickout! Sinnocence slaps the mat, and grabs Nova by her hair, pulling her back up! Sinn whips Nova around into a short-arm clothesline-- ducked by Nova! Nova catches her with a Russian legsweep, and rolls back onto her feet!

She pulls Sinn onto her hands and knees, and sits on Sinnocence's back! She starts riding the Revolution Champion like a horse, slapping her on the ass! The crowd explodes!

Eryk Masters: Save A Horse!

Other Guy: Ride a cowgirl, I guess? I don't think--

Suddenly Sinnocence reaches up, pulling Nova over her shoulders with a snapmare! Nova hits the mat, and sits up, and in seconds, Sinnocence has her wrapped in the Iron Maiden! Nova doesn't even know what hit her! Nova's body tenses up, and then her arm starts to slacken! She's swinging, trying to fight it, but Sinn just holds on tighter, squeezing harder with the legscissors! Nova's arm drops, and Willie Dean is there! He raises Nova's arm once!

It drops! He raises it again!

It hits the mat! Referee Dean brings Nova's arm up once more!

And once more it hits the mat! Dean calls for the bell as Nova Lynn Jackson is unconscious!

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, at a time of 16 minutes and 10 seconds, SINNOCENCE!

Other Guy: And it looks like Jonny's little girl just didn't have it in her to take down her friend the Revolution Champion.

Jeff Hansen: Some friend. She swings a baseball bat at Nova's friends, and then beats the living hell out of her? Doesn't sound very friendly to me. At least, I never had friends who choked me unconscious.

Eryk Masters: Either way, what becomes of Sinnocence and Nova Lynn now that this match is over? Is anything actually resolved?

Sinnocence drops to her knees next to Nova as “Gets Me Through” starts up again, mouthing “I'm sorry,” as she presses her lips to Nova's forehead. Nova, out cold, doesn't respond, and Willie Dean is there to check on her. Sinnocence slides out of the ring, taking the Revolution title with her to the back as Nova slowly starts to regain consciousness.

 

The scene fades into a black backdrop with the SHOOT Project logo placed at the very center. There are two chairs. In one is Jester Smiles. In the other, it is Abigail Chase. Abigail is dressed very nicely in a grey suit coat and dress skirt with a black button up shirt. Jester is in blue jeans and a tuxedo t-shirt with “JESTER SMILES” spray painted over in green and purple.

Abigail Chase: (point at Jester’s clothes) Really?

Jester Smiles: Yes, really.

Abigail sorta grins, and Jester does as well with a nod.

Jester Smiles: Also, just want to say, welcome back to everything Ms. Chase.

Abigail Chase: Thank you very much Jester. Now, first things first, you were supposed to have an interview lined up a week ago, and nothing happened. Any word?

Jester Smiles: Honestly? Things fell through, and I’ve been taking this loss pretty hard, so, yeah, things that were supposed to happen didn’t end up happening. I’m sorry to everyone who was really expecting word, but here we are now. So, what questions do I need to answer?

Abigail Chase: Well, we’ll start off easy enough. You gonna give up like you have in the past?

Jester Smiles: Wow, that’s not easy at all.

Abigail Chase: Was for me. You get depressed, you slip away until you get your ‘smile back’ or some such crap. So, is that what you are going to do?

Jester Smiles: (glaring) How about fuck you very much, Abigail?

Abigail Chase: That a yes?

Jester Smiles: It’s a I won’t even know if I can compete at Redemption until after the break. It’s a My fucking Christmas present is not knowing if I can even USE my rematch clause, oh, by the way, Jonny, I have a rematch clause. So, you know, before you start throwing around “JESTER WON’T GET A REMATCH”, bare in mind, it’s in writing, but before I know if I can even USE it, I have to have some tests and examinations done on my fucking leg.

You know, the leg that was injured in the fucking Eleventh Hour Match? The bad joke that was my championship defense?

Abigail Chase: And now you are whining and making excuses about your match?

Jester Smiles: No, no I’m not. Well, maybe I am whining, but it’s that match was my own damn fault. See, here’s the thing. I was the champion, and yet, I allowed myself to be treated like the challenger. At all points and times, I have been treated like the underdog, because I have decided to play the underdog. Every title defense, hell, any and every match I’ve gone into, whether I was facing a rookie or a veteran, I have been treated and acted like the underdog. The challenger.

I’m DONE being the challenger. If my tests check out after this week? If I can make it to Redemption.

Fuck Adrian Corazon. For me, I’m taking my shot, and if he’s in the way, then so be it. I feel no ill will towards him for his decision to throw in the towel. This has nothing to do with that. I simply want the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship around my waist, and he’s going to be in my way. He’s brutal, he’s inhuman, and for quite sometime, he was unbeatable.

But whether it is before or after Redemption, if I’m cleared to wrestle, then he’s nothing more than a road block that I’m knocking out of the way.

As for Jonny Johnson? No one wants to see another minute of a Jonny Johnson title reign. Not the fans, not the guys in the back, NO ONE. Not even his old ‘friends’. We’re all tired of him, and if I’m cleared, at Redemption.

I’m taking out Jonny Johnson, one more time.

As for  you Abigail….

Jester is seething, but he takes a second to relax, breathes deeply, and smiles.

Jester Smiles: Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to you.

Abigail Chase: Merry Christmas to you to Jester.

End scene.

A security guard holds open the heavy door which allows performers access to the Rupp Arena's car park, allowing entry to a certain Englishman. He nods to the security guard as he adjusts the strap of the heavy gym bag which is slung over his shoulder and pushes his blue-tinted wrap-around sunglasses back up his nose.

Looking to the left and then to the right, he frowns in confusion, looking back to the security guard and taking the hint from his finger pointing to the right. Smirking to himself, he reaches down into the deep pockets of his black gym pants and pulls out his phone, checking for messages quickly before jamming it back in.

Scott Richardson and a camera-man block his way. With a sigh, Osbourne allows his bag to slump to the floor and he stretches out his chest for a moment, enlarging the crimson Victory or Valhalla text as he regards the SHOOT Project interviewer.

Scott Richardson: How are you feeling tonight, Osbourne? Big match ahead of you...

He shrugs.

Osbourne Kilminster: I feel pretty good... Ready to get it going, you know?

Scott Richardson: This week, Donvan King, your opponent for tonight, made some remarks about your former lover, Sinnocence. How does something like that affect you, going into a match like this?

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, Kilminster tilts his head back slightly and rests his hands on his hips.

Osbourne Kilminster: I honestly didn't think he needed to lower the tone like that. I showed him a lot of respect, which I think he deserves, but he came out with that and it kind of got to me for a moment... and then I realised that you just have to roll with the punches when you get into a situation with somebody who's also on the roster, you know? I'm not the first guy in the history of the business to do it, and the reaction is always the same - other guys bring it up every chance they get and try to use it to get into your head. King apologised, so I just have to leave it at that. He said what a lot of people are probably thinking anyway.

Shrugging his shoulders, Osbourne raises his eyebrows and laughs nervously for a moment.

Scott Richardson: What do you think of King? How do you feel about him in terms of his in-ring skills and in general, again, going into a match like this?

Osbourne Kilminster: The guy doesn't think I respect his ability to stand and bang, which isn't true. Anybody can hit you right on the button, all it takes is a guy's chin to be in the wrong place at the right time for his opponent and BANG he's out... King, well, he can hit HARD. He's ten pounds heavier than me, and ten pounds is a lot when it's solid muscle, so he's definitely got what it takes to put a guy out. He can also box, so it's not like he's swinging completely uneducated hands. I respect his stand-up game just as much as I respect his wrestling. Even as a man, I respect him to an extent just because he's someone who just lets his thoughts roll out of his mouth, completely unabridged, you know? He's honest about what he thinks and feels, whether I agree or not, but atleast he's getting it out there so people know.

Scott Richardson: This will be the first match you've had for quite a while that won't be fought under Iron Fist rules. How did you prepare for that?

The former Iron Fist Champion smiles broadly and shakes his head.

Osbourne Kilminster: As I've been saying since the match was booked, I've gone right back to the old-school stuff. I haven't had a lot of opportunity to employ my submissions for a long time, but I've kept up training them and they're as sharp as ever. Maybe I'll even bust out one or two tonight, you never know! But yeah, basically, it's been about going back to the basics and trying to be ready for just about anything... which sounds a lot easier than it actually is.

He doesn't laugh this time - his jaw clenches.

Osbourne Kilminster: I'm just REALLY looking forward to getting in there, just getting down to business.

Scott Richardson: Is there any official word as to whether this will count toward you getting back into Iron Fist contention?

Osbourne Kilminster: I don't think it's really about that right now. I think this match is about SHOOT wanting to make sure I'm going to stick around but, from my point of view, the kind of paycheck I'm picking up and all the advnatges and perks are going to keep me around for a long time, if nothing else. Besides, not to get into anything too detailed, I think the World Championship division is looking a bit thin on the ground and they need a high-impact match on the card to hold the fan interest, and that's the kind of match only guys like myself and King can deliver. As for the Iron Fist Championship, yeah, it's a major concern of mine but I'm going to be patient and work my way back to it however I have to, right from the grass roots. It'll come, it's just a matter of time.

Scott holds out his hand and Kilminster shakes it with a slight smirk.

Scott Richardson: Well, thanks for talking to us. Good luck for tonight!

Osbourne Kilminster: Not a problem.

Scott Richardson: Back to you guys at ringside!

Jeff Hansen: Are they still trying to kill each other?

 

Other Guy: Looks that way. It seems they’ve managed to fight themselves to a Chucky Cheese.

 

Eryk Masters: And so far, it looks like Ghost is holding the momentum.

 

Inside the arcade portion, Ghost is rocking Lockup with repeated fists. As the camera pans, we can see that he’s firing off this punching combo while atop a DDR machine, his feet keeping mad time with the game. This persists a few moments before Lockup catches his sensibilities and intercepts one of Ghost’s punches.

 

Jeff Hansen: And this is where Lockup excels, turning momentum against his opponent, catching the mistake, and capitalizing on it.

 

Other Guy: And with a standing side hammerlock applied, Ghost may be tapping out right here.

 

Chris Jenkins, who was until a moment ago munching a slice of pizza, darts over and begins checking for the tap. Ghost yells in pain for a moment, and finally breaks the hold by grabbing a mallet from the Whack-a-Mole game, and whacking Lockup a good one in the face. The Hawaiian cop releases the joint lock, but intercepts the next mallet shot, torques Ghost’s arm straight out sideways, steps in, and drops him.

 

Other Guy: Negative Momentum! He’s just hit his signature shot.

 

Jeff Hansen: And Ghost has nothing to grab onto. It might be over here.

 

Lockup goes for the cover.

ONE
TWO
THR-

KICKOUT on three and a half! Lockup looks to the referee and shows him three fingers. They argue a moment before another solid low blow from Ghost. With Lockup reeling, Ghost goes high risk and climbs atop the mesh netting of the ball pit before taking a wild leap, and planting a wicked Dragoncanranna on his opponent. He then goes for the cover.

 

Other Guy: And a kickout on two for Crimson Ghost. These guys just aren’t giving up.

 

Jeff Hansen: And apparently they’re hungry, this fight’s just spilled into the kitchen.

 

Eryk Masters: This can’t be good.

 

Jeff Hansen: It’s apparently not any good for Ghost, because Lockup’s just gotten his hand on a cheese grater. It’s environmental warfare tonight on SHOOT.

 

Other Guy: And it’s also time for another break, just as Ghost gets more of his skin taken off. Shouldn’t we have a parental advisory on this match?

 

Jeff Hansen: Just break to the damn commercial.

 

The arena is bathed in green as the fans begin to cheer, looking to the entrance way.  The distorted sounds of the infamous bell are heard, bringing the fans to their feet now.  The announcers are silent as Akon’s voice is heard.

I DON’T CARE WHAT NOBODY SAY
I’MMA BE ME BE ME
STAY HOOD STAY RAISED IN THE STREETS
CUZ I’M OUT HERE GRINDIN’

Donovan King steps out, head lowered, wearing his new Kentucky Wildcats hooded sweatshirt, the hood pulled tightly over his head.

NIGGAS TALK ABOUT GREATNESS WHENEVER THEY SPEAK ABOUT ME
CUZ I’M OUT HERE GRINDIN’

He bobs his head to the beat, bouncing in the entrance.

I AIN’T SPLITTIN’ NOTHIN’ WITH NOBODY HOMIE
I GOTTA GET ME ME
CUZ I’M OUT HERE GRINDIN’

King looks to his left, then to his right.

I AIN’T SLEEPIN’ EIGHT DAYS I CAN GO FOR EIGHT WEEKS
AIN’T NOTHING TO ME CUZ I AM THE STREETS

He throws his hood off and looks up to the sky, his fists clenched and held high as green and yellow pyro EXPLODE on either side of him in tune with the beat.

BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!

King unzips his hoodie and throws it out into the stands, immediately jawjacking with the fans.  He points out to them and then slaps his chest, sauntering down to the ring, still talking shit.  “Out Here Grindin’” by DJ Khaled plays loudly as King shakes his head, laughing, still jawjacking.  He steps into the ring, nodding his head, pointing out to the fans.

Samantha Coil:  Ladies and gentlemen…the following is scheduled for ONE fall and is set at a thirty minute time limit!  Introducing first, from Charlotte, North Carolina…Donovan…KING!

King hops up onto the turnbuckle, pointing to himself, his shittalk very adamant now.  He hops down, taking the microphone from Coil, motioning for his music to get cut off.  The fans are cheering as “Out Here Grindin’” is abruptly ended.

Donovan King:  Very, very soon…I get to introduce Ozzy Kilminster back to SHOOT Project after a couple of weeks off.

King paces the ring, clutching the microphone tightly as he speaks.

Donovan King:  He’s got Dan Stein in his sights.  He’s got the Iron Fist title in his sights.  He wants to dominate dat division an’ I can respect dat.

King stops, looking at the entrance.

Donovan King:  So, Ozzy, before you get out here, let me welcome you back verbally…because I can promise you the shit I’mma do to you in a few short moments won’t make you feel all dat welcome.

The fans pop as King smirks.

Donovan King:  A little while from now, 2008 will be over, and the Road to Redemption will continue on.  I can’t tell you if anybody’s had the balls to announce their intent to win dat damn thing tonight, because I’ve been gettin’ ready for the hell I’m about to get put through.  I can tell you dat it don’t make a damn bit uh difference.  2008 was the Year of the Defiler.  2009 will be the Year of the King.  Believe dat.

He grins.

Donovan King:  So, let’s get dat blonde haired bitch out here so I can knock his ass the fuck back out!

The fans pop BIG as King hands Samantha Coil her microphone back and “Break Your Face” by Jack Nickelz plays, the fans booing loudly at first, but the reaction is far more mixed than you’d think.  Out from the back emerges Osbourne Kilminster, his hair pulled back into a ponytail and a stern look on his face.  Some of the fans reach out to him as he paces down to the ring, but he doesn’t acknowledge them or the reaction itself.

Eryk Masters:  I think Ozzy’s a bit taken aback by the sudden amount of support he got when he came out through the curtain, guys.

Jeff Hansen:  Basic rule of wrestling, Eryk.  The moment you admit flaws, the fans will like you.

Kilminster steps into the ring, glaring at both Austin Linam and then to Donovan King.

Samantha Coil:  And his opponent…from Birkenhead, England…Osbourne…KILMINSTER!!

 “Break Your Face” is immediately cut off as Austin Linam calls for the bell and it rings out, finally bringing a hush to the excited fans in attendance at the Rupp Arena.

Eryk Masters: There's the bell!

Other Guy: This thing is on!

Osbourne Kilminster and Donovan King slowly step out from their respective corners, the former Iron Fist Champion holding out his right fist to King. The fans watch with held breath as King looks at the Englishman's fist for a moment before nodding ever so slightly and smashing his own fist against it.

The fans cheer, appreciating the show of respect.

Jeff Hansen: Come on, I came to see a fight, not a love-in!

Kilminster is light on his feet as he springs back, bouncing on the spot with his guard high. King watches through his own high hands, but he gets a close-up of Kilminster's fist by way of a Superman Punch! King staggers back a little as Osbourne's feet touch the canvas again and his right shin finds a momentary home deep in the left side of King's ribcage! Still staggering back, King covers up to block a HUGE flying knee from Kilminster, who quickly realises that he's backed King against the ropes and OFFLOADS with lefts and rights to the body and head! King covers up well and navigates his way out to the left with his back against the ropes, CRACKING Osbourne right across the cheekbone with a right elbow as he's circling out and taking the centre of the ring! Kilminster takes a slow, deep breath and wipes his cheek as he regards his opponent.

"KING! KING! KING!" chants break out sporadically as Donovan's fanbase applaud!

Other Guy: King is still standing! How does he do that?!

Eryk Masters: A flurry like that has put a lot of tough men away, but King is still very much in this!

Jeff Hansen: What a ring general, just staying calm, covering up and getting the Hell out of Dodge.

Osbourne's knee twitches and King covers high, expecting the Superman Punch, but it's another right roundhouse finding its mark in his ribs that informs him of his error! Refusing to back up, he eats a left shin deep into the right side of his ribcage, but captures the leg and drives forward, hustling Osbourne right back up against the ropes, lifting him up onto his shoulder and SMASHING him down against the canvas! Before Osbourne can really get his bearings, King is securing himself in a side-control position!

Eryk Masters: King timed him! He knew that was coming!

Other Guy: Kilminster's methodical, but I guess that comes at the price of predictability and King was onto it!

Osbourne tucks his chin to his clavicle and jams his palms between his own chest and King's, effectively bench-pressing him up and spinning on his hips to get his left knee in between them, jamming his foot between King's legs to secure a half-Butterfly guard and reaching up to control his head. In doing so, however, he finds himself vulnerable to a MASSIVE overhand right from King that drives hard into Osbourne's left cheekbone. He winces, but captures that right arm and brings his left leg up, coiling it around the shoulder joint and turning his hips over to lock in an omoplata shoulder lock!

Jeff Hansen: Nice! Look how EASILY he switched it around and got he better position!

Eryk Masters: I wouldn't exactly call that easy! I wouldn't fancy eating a punch like that...

Just then, King rolls over onto his back to try and escape, but Osbourne follows and switches his legs to pin King down with a side-control position of his own! The bigger man SMASHES his right elbow up into Osbourne's eye from the bottom and uses that split second of confusion to pull his arm free and get back to his feet. Kilminster remains on his hands and knee for a moment and the crowd watch with confusion and intrigue, but as soon as the former Iron Fist Champion stands, they see why - his left eye is cut just along the outer edge and finger-thick streams of blood are beginning to pour down his face. He shakes his head as he looks at King.

The "KING! KING! KING!" chants grow louder as the fans gathered in Kentucky get a good look at the damage done to Kilminster's face!

Other Guy: One elbow! One god-damned elbow did THAT?!

Eryk Masters: Elbows are NASTY. They can cut you just like a knife. He kinda found his range earlier with that one to the cheek and maybe now he's going to target that eye.

Jeff Hansen: He's lucky that cut's on the outer edge so it shouldn't affect his vision too much, but King's going to zone right in on that now, no MAYBE about it!

Other Guy: Just like anyone hungry for a victory would!

King circles Osbourne tentatively, circling out toward his left and testing his vision, but Kilminster remains adamant about holding the centre of the ring. AS FAST AS LIGHTNING, Osbourne's left hand collides with King's chin and his right hand follows in the blink of an eye! King's knees buckle ever so slightly and Osbourne sees it, stepping in with a right hook that DETONATES and rocks King's head, but Donovan's instincts kick in and he clutches the back of Osbourne's head with his left hand and SLAMS in a European Uppercut with the right, but in a slick, practised motion, he SLICES at Osbourne's left eye with his elbow and a tiny spurt of blood sprays both men as the wound widens! Kilminster staggers back, wincing and switching to a southpaw stance to try and protect his left eye, leaving himself vulverable to a double-leg takedown attempt, but he's still quick enough to drive his hips back and sprawl out, using his forearms to pull King back up with him and into a Thai clinch, immediately checking the chin of the bigger man with a THUNDEROUS right knee! Then a left! Then a right again! Another left! Anoth- NO! As the right knee comes up again, King blocks it with his left arm, catches it and drives his right elbow into Kilminster's left eye! Again! Again! Again!Kilminster releases the Thai clinch to cover up and is put almost THROUGH the canvas with a shuddering spinebuster of a single-leg takedown!

The front rows around the ring are ON THEIR FEET with cheers of excitement even before the massive boom of the two men hitting the canvas has finished ringing in their ears!

Eryk Masters: Dear God...

Other Guy: This is like... so back and forth... Who's getting the upper hand?!

Jeff Hansen: Looks to me like King is scoring with the takedowns and those vicious elbows, but Kilminster's scoring with submission attempts, knees and punches...

Other Guy: That's what I mean - it's like... you can't pull them apart.

Eryk Masters: That cut around Osbourne's eye looks really bad, especially after that last flurry in the clinch...

Osbourne settles for a half-guard as he lies on his back on the canvas, his right hand cradling the back of King's head to stop him passing as his left reaches up to examine his cut. He shakes his head.

ONE!!

TWO!!

Kilminster blasts his left shoulder off the canvas and shoots Linam a look that could kill, but the ref seems adamant that his shoulders were pinned to the mat and therefore the count was legal. Osbourne's not happy at all, but doesn't have much time to argue as King begins to try and tug his leg out from between the former Iron Fist Champ's. Sliding his hips slightly, Osbourne bridges for a second and manages to pull a full guard, working his legs really high on King, maintaining the head control.

Eryk Masters: Looks like another submission attempt coming up...

King reaches back with his right hand to try and open up Kilminster's legs and break the guard, but it's just the opening the groundfighter needs to swing his legs around and clamp on a TIGHT triangle choke! King knows this one all too well and reaches around Osbourne's waist, holding his hands together tightly and giving his esophagus that fraction of an inch it needs to suck in some oxygen.

ONE!!

TWO!!

Just at the last split second before the three count is made, Osbourne jams his hand between King's arms to open them, swings his leg over and across the face and torques back with an armbar! King can be heard grunting as he copes with the strain, but he straightens his legs out and gets back to his feet, taking the whole 235lb weight of Kilminster on his one arm as he tries to reach for his wrist and reel his arm back in! Just as his fingertips reach the wrist, Osbourne switches his position again, face-to-face with King as he jams both feet into King's stomach and flips him over with a Judo-style throw, floating over with him to take a mount position!

Other Guy: Not good for King!

Eryk Masters: Not good at all!

Jeff Hansen: Great for Kilminster!

Osbourne adjusts his hips, settling himself atop his opponent before he begins offloading with lefts and rights, picking his shots as he rains them down!

ONE!!

TWO!!

Just right then, in the last millisecond before the three is spoken, King wraps his arms around Kilminster's waist and calls upon EVERY OUNCE OF HIS STRENGTH to roll over, forcing Kilminster onto his back and thereby escaping the mount! Kilminster pulls guard instantly, but King pushes his hands off Osbourne's hip and steps back up to a standing position, sucking in deep breaths as he backs away and points at Linam.

Donovan King:  BACK.  OFF.

Osbourne nods his head as he cautiously pulls himself to his feet. Blood is smeared all over his face and chest where it's run down, his chest heaves as he sucks in long, deep breaths but he brings up his fists and is ready to fight again!

There's not many people sat down in the arena now as almost every fan wants a better view of the two men going to war!

Eryk Masters: King's not such a fan of those counts by Linam.

Other Guy: I'm betting Oz isn't either. He looked PISSED earlier when Linam called him on it.

Jeff Hansen: Not an easy call in a match where being on your back for three seconds can mean you lose.

Other Guy: Yeah, difficult to call if the guy on his back is still working for something.

King nods to Kilminster and Kilminster lunges for a single leg takedown, getting back up, grabbing a firm hold of King’s leg.  He doesn’t give King time to counter, sliding his foot behind King’s planted foot, tripping him and sending him to the mat.  Kilminster sprawls over his foe and scurries up King’s body to go for a forced pin, this time looking to Linam to count the pin!

ONE!

TWO!!

King manages to roll his shoulder up and gets to his stomach.  He gets his knees underneath him and powers Kilminster up, pushing with all the strength in his legs to get back to a standing position, letting Kilminster keep the lock that he’s now slid down to King’s hips.  Kilminster plants his feet and goes for a belly to back suplex, but King grapevines the legs!  Kilminster attempts again and King rolls through to create a makeshift victory roll!  Linam’s there for the count!

ONE!!

TWO!!

KICK OUT!

Kilminster kicks out and King immediately drops a picture perfect snap elbow drop down on his foe!

Eryk Masters:  King wasting no time whatsoever planting that sharp elbow down on Ozzy.

Other Guy:  A guy like Osbourne Kilminster needs to get hit with a freakin’ tank to go down.  Donovan King knows this, and he’s going to dismantle Ozzy one hit at a time.

Jeff Hansen:  He’s lost a lot of blood thus far, so I got no clue if Ozzy’s got what it takes to stay up in this against King, as much as it pains me to admit.

Kilminster gets up, clutching his chest.  He glares at King, who begins to jawjack his opponent.  Kilminster grits his teeth at King and moves to attack, but King ducks under, lifting Kilminster up in a double leg takedown…SPINEBUSTER.  King NAILS the spinebuster on Kilminster, sprawling over for another pin attempt!  Linam’s there!

ONE!!

TWO!!

TH—KICK OUT!!

Kilminster clutches his back and King rolls Kilminster’s body, planting a knee in Kilminster’s back, locking his hands around Kilminster’s head, pulling it up with all of his might!  Kilminster calls in pain as King keeps the hold locked in, his teeth gritted trying to get the submission!

Eryk Masters:  Is this it?!  Austin Linam’s there, he’s asking if that does it for Ozzy…and King’s keeping the hold locked in as hard as he can…this could be what takes Ozzy out and ends this match once and for all!

Kilminster holds his arm out, but King IMMEDIATELY releases the hold, swings his legs around, AND LOCKS IN THE CAROLINA CROSSFACE!!!!  KING LOCKS IN THE CAROLINA CROSSFACE!!!

Other Guy:  TAP!  TAP!!  The Carolina Crossface is BRUTAL, there’s hardly anyway for Ozzy to get outta this one!

Jeff Hansen:  Ohhhhh no!  Oh HELL no!  Ozzy Kilminster doesn’t tap out!

Other Guy:  I’ve seen him tap, Jeff!  Remember, I’ve been calling matches for a few years now while you were unemployed, I’ve seen FIRSTHAND that Ozzy Kilminster will submit to a move if it hurts him enough!  Face it, the one thing Ozzy knows is how to quit!

Jeff Hansen:  FUCK that!  You’re like King here, trying to justify the genius moves of Osbourne Kilminster with your own stupidity!  Ozzy knows to let the other guy get a small win to take the bigger one later!  It’s called STRATEGY, you know!

Eryk Masters:  Guys, Ozzy is yelling vehemently at the referee.  He is NOT giving this one up!

King grows frustrated and releases the hold, pushing Kilminster’s head down into the mat as he does so.  He paces the ring, shaking his head as Kilminster holds his neck and back, definitely in a lot of pain.  Austin Linam moves down to check on Kilminster, but King moves in, shoving Linam out of the way.  He picks Kilminster up and irish whips Kilminster to the ropes.  He bends down and HOISTS Kilminster up onto his shoulders!  He looks to the fans and goes for a Samoan Drop NO!  Kilminster counters with a crucifix pin!  Linam’s there!

ONE!!

TWO!!

KICK OUT!!!

King slaps the mat in frustration as Kilminster rolls out of the ring, holding his neck and back again.  He paces as King gets up onto his feet, casting a furious glare down at his opponent.  Both men lock eyes and Kilminster hops back up onto the ring apron, but King charges him and he hops back down, prompting some boos from the fans!  Kilminster motions to the ring apron and then to King, shrugging at the former Son of Liberty.  King nods finally and Kilminster hopes up onto the ring apron and gets back into the ring.

Jeff Hansen:  Huh.  Maybe there’s some sportsmanship in Donovan King after all.

Kilminster and King lock back up, King ducking under to lock Kilminster back up in a waistlock, but Kilminster throws an elbow to the back, rocking King back.  Kilminster whips King to the ropes, but King ducks the attempted clothesline.  King jumps to the middle rope, AND SPRINGBOARDS WITH A SPINNING WHEEL KICK!!  NO!!  NO!!  KILMINSTER MANAGES TO COUNTER INTO A SIT OUT POWERBOMB!!!

Other Guy:  HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!

Jeff Hansen:  OZZY JUST CAUGHT KING IN MID AIR AND CONVERTED HIS SPINNING KICK INTO A SIT OUT POWERBOMB!!!  HOLY SHIT!!

Eryk Masters:  AUSTIN LINAM’S THERE AND OZZY’S GOING FOR THE PIN FALL!!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THREE!!

NO!!!

DONOVAN KING KICKS OUT, BUT BARELY!!!!!  The fans are ERUPTING as Kilminster holds his head in astonishment as King rolls to his side, trying to catch his breath!  Austin Linam holds his hand up, showing he ONLY got a two count!!  Kilminster pulls himself up, and goes to pick King up, but King rolls Kilminster up into a small package!  Linam’s there!

ONE!!

TWO!!

TH—KICK OUT!!!

Kilminster powers out and YANKS King from the mat, and he IMMEDIATELY hooks in a Thai clinch!  He goes for the drop, but King counters with a jawbreaker, locking in his OWN Thai clinch!!  King pulls himself up, glaring down at his fallen foe.  He seems more than ready to strike, but tries to catch his breath while Kilminster is slow to get to his feet once again.  Both men continue to stare at one another, when suddenly the bell rings, the fans instantly starting to boo.  Kilminster and King look at the timekeeper Mark Kendrick as Samantha Coil begins to speak.

Samantha Coil:  LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…UNFORTUNATELY THIS MATCH HAS GONE TO A TIME LIMIT DRAW!

Eryk Masters:  WHAT!  NO!

King and Kilminster both begin to argue with Mark Kendrick, who shrugs at the two of them.  The fans are booing loudly as King takes the microphone from Samantha Coil.

Donovan King:  Time limit draw?  TIME LIMIT DRAW?!

King shakes his head, breathing heavily.  Both he and Kilminster seem upset.

Jeff Hansen:  Could we see any over time?

Other Guy:  I doubt it, Jeff.  Austin Linam’s not exactly the most relaxed of referees, you saw how he was with the pinfall attempts.

The fans chant “FIVE MORE MINUTES” as Austin Linam paces the ring.  He shakes his head no and the fans boo loudly as he leaves.  King looks at Kilminster, both men still in the ring.

Donovan King:  Yo.

Kilminster and King stand in the center of the ring, eyes locked.

Donovan King:  Some other time?

Kilminster looks at King, who is now extending his fist to Kilminster.  Kilminster looks back to King and grabs King’s hand holding the microphone and brings it to his own lips.

Osbourne Kilminster:  Some other time.

He pounds King’s fist and the fans pop as King holds Kilminster’s arm up, “Break Your Face” kicks back in.  Kilminster, in turn, throws King’s arm up for all to see as well.  Both men exit the ring and head up the entrance ramp, the fans showing their appreciation just the same.

Eryk Masters:  Fantastic match, even if the ending was a bit sour for both men.

Other Guy:  Well, one thing’s for sure.  They may have one another’s respect…but this is far from over.

Jeff Hansen:  And I damn sure can’t wait for the rematch!

Eryk Masters: And we’re back to Crimson Ghost versus Lockup, and they’ve found themselves in a sporting goods store in the Fayetteville mall here in Lexington Kentucky.

 

Other Guy: And it looks like, aside from a few setbacks, Crimson Ghost is still in control of this match.

 

Jeff Hansen: And it’s showing no signs of stopping either. Both of these men have put their bodies on the line for this show tonight folks.

 

Down the aisle, we see Crimson Ghost riding a skateboard towards Lockup, who is leaning against a toppled rack of tennis shoes. He ollies, and grinds the short bench where shoes are tried on, and leaps off, only to be caught off guard by the possum playing Lockup. He lands face-first into the toppled rack, and Lockup wastes no time going to work on him with Ghost’s own skateboard.

 

Jeff Hansen: Some strategy here, aside from just beating each other senseless with whatever’s handy, Lockup is turning his attention to the back and knees of the Lucha to eliminate his aerial game, and he’s proven he doesn’t need a ring to get airborne.

 

Other Guy: That’s true, Ghost does have a good sense of where he is, and he proves it by rolling out of the way, and there’s a nicely executed Drop toe hold by the masked wrestler.

 

Crimson Ghost wastes no time, and grabs himself a baseball bat, which he puts to good use, beating the living hell out of Lockup. As he walks a slow circle, we can see he’s taken a good measure of punishment to his knees, as he’s limping as he moves.

 

Eryk Masters: Lockup should consider himself lucky Ghost is running on low steam, or else these bat shots might end his career instead of putting him in the hospital.

 

Other Guy: It’s still nothing to sneeze at, that’s right. Each shot is taking more and more out of a man who might not have much left to give.

 

Jeff Hansen: So why’s he throwing the bat aside? Oh, it looks like he’s setting Lockup up for the Seeing Red, but before he can get anything going, Lockup’s picked up the bat, and drives it straight into Ghost’s temple. That can’t feel good.

With Ghost reeling, Lockup kicks his knee out from under him, putting Ghost on the ground. He grab’s Ghost’s arm and steps around, putting his own knee under Ghost’s head before grabbing a leg of the Luchadore’s as well.

 

Other Guy: Is that the Chikara Special? Never thought I’d see that here.

 

Eryk Masters: It looks like Ghost is about to tap…

 

Other Guy: TAPOUT! Ghost taps out!

 

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, we can call this a win for Lockup, but he’s going to be feeling this match for a few weeks to come.

 

We transition back to the ring, where Samantha coil makes the announcement, before Agent Provocateur’s “Red Tape” Begins playing.

 

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, at a time of twenty-one minutes and thirty-five seconds, your winner is LOCKUP!

 

Other Guy: Somebody call them an ambulance.

 

Jeff Hansen: They can walk it off.

Other Guy:  We’re going to head backstage now, as we’ve just received word that Adrian Corazon, the number one contender to Jonny Johnson’s SHOOT Project is on a tear trying to find the World Champion!

Backstage, the scene opens to Adrian Corazon in street clothes, and he appears to be quickly walking the halls of Rupp Arena.  He’s a man on a mission, as he practically stampedes over production and crew members.

“CORAZON!  CORAZON!”

In his focus, he barely hears Abigail Chase behind him, but manages to find it in him to stop.

Abigail Chase:  Adrian…  what brings you here tonight, given that you’re not booked, and not scheduled to appear at all?

Corazon turns and looks her dead in the eye.

Corazon:  Jonny Johnson.

Chase cracks a half smile.

Abigail Chase:  And what do you plan to do, should you find Jonny Johnson?

Corazon cocks his head to the side, and smiles.

Corazon:  Heh…  I just want to talk. 

Abigail goes to respond, but Corazon puts a hand over the mic.

Corazon:  We’re done. 

He turns away from her and begins walking the hall again.  He makes a left turn, and sees nobody.  He backtracks, makes what would have been the right turn, and sees lots of crew members and production members, but then…  there he is.  He slows his pace, and the production members get out of the way, and soon, he’s face to face with THE DEFILER.

Corazon:  Puppies getting cancer.  That’s low, even for you.  Pathetic.

Jonny doesn’t initially respond to the former SHOOT Project Iron Fist Champion, but instead lets the moment simmer.  His eyes are static, glues to Corazon’s impressive frame, and he seems generally pleased to be face to face with one of his favorite foes.  There’s a hint of respect behind his ominous gaze, and the DEFILER nods after a few seconds pass.

The DEFILER: It’s a “low” world, Adrian.  Filled with horrible people who do horrible things.  (Smirking) Believe me, man...  If it uhh...  If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have to say the things I say, but how else do you communicate with these idiots?

He shrugs as though there isn’t a single flaw in his logic...  like what he’s saying is commonplace and matter-of-fact.

The DEFILER: But what I am doing talking morals and human behavior with you, anyway?  I’m sure it’s boring you immensely.  So we’ll just skip to the part where you lose your temper and skin me or maybe stab me with an electric pencil...  However you want to do it.

The smile that follows seems to be Jonny’s own way of letting Corazon know he’s perfectly ready to go toe to toe.

Corazon:  Cute.  It’d be far too easy to end you here, Jonny.  Honestly…  it’d be far too easy to end you ANYWHERE, but this just… 

He looks at his surroundings.  Brick walls.  Doors.  Boring.

Corazon:  It’s just…  not any… fun… to think about.  You though…  you’re lucky that security held me back after that farce of a match you had with Jester Smiles.  Because that…  that would have been fun. 

He smiles widely.

Corazon:  That would have been REALLY fun.  And really, Jonny?  You should know by now that I’m more even keeled than anyone on this roster, so losing my temper?  That’s something that’s saved for really special occasions.  I hope…  I sure hope you aren’t losing touch. 

Leaning against a wall, now, he continues smiling, but shuts his eyes.

Corazon:  You aren’t…  you aren’t losing touch, are you?

He relishes in his own chiding of the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion, but allows the brief pause to give THE DEFILER a moment to respond. 

Jonny smiles, appreciating Corazon’s strong will.  Not many people had his respect in this fashion, but Adrian was an exception.  He decides, though, that it’s time to get to business and moves away from the friendly jabs.

The DEFILER: So do YOU want to go first or should I?

Corazon smirks. 

Corazon:  Makes absolutely no difference to me.

Jonny nods and proceeds.

The DEFILER: We’ll make it simple, man...

He pauses and makes sure Corazon is listening.

The DEFILER: Just don’t do anything stupid this time around, okay?  Take it as a warning...  as a friendly reminder...  However you need to rationalize it.  I don’t care.  But accept the fact that for...  Part Two,  I’M in charge  and we’re going to be playing by MY rules.

He raises his eyebrows and tries to get a feel for what Corazon must be feeling.

The DEFILER: That’s all on my front.  So uhhh... I guess... Your turn, Adri.  What’s on your mind?
Corazon nods.

Corazon:  I don’t care about your rules, Jonny.  I don’t care about Jester’s rules.  I don’t care about SHOOT’s rules.  I’ve…  well…  I’ve been given carte blanche to do whatever I want to do to you, in the confines of an arena.  

He grins.

Corazon:  I can live with that.  I’m not going to let myself stab you in a parking lot, or hunt down your friends, or anything.  This isn’t about me proving myself again, and it’s not about me cementing some sort of greatness or whatever.  I’ve already done that.  Now, Jonny?  Now…  it’s about taking the LAST thing that you have, away from you.  But here’s the funny part…  

He gives a sarcastic giggle, just for effect.

Corazon:  You’re NOT in charge.  No matter how bad you want to be?  You’re not in charge.  We’re not playing by anyone’s rules, except for Jason Johnson’s, and if he tells me to rip you apart?  

He looks Jonny right in the eye.

Corazon:  Then I’m going to rip you apart.  No matter how badly you HOPE BEYOND ALL HOPE that you are in some semblance of control, you’re not.  Time’s are changing, Jonny, and whether it’s me that takes that belt, or if it’s Eric who takes it…  your time as the World Champion of this company, much like your remaining days on this planet?  

He starts to walk off.

Corazon:  …They’re drawing to an end.   See you later, buddy.

Jonny isn’t particularly fond of Corazon getting in the last word, and mumbles to himself as he watches Corazon leave the camera frame.  He shakes his head and grips the World Title hanging over his shoulder.

The DEFILER: (To himself) No one’s taking this...

He shouts in desperation.

The DEFILER: NO ONE!!!

The scene fades shortly thereafter.


The lights in the arena fade to dim, with the exception of four spotlights, who sweep across the entranceway in circular arcs.  We can hear the faint strains of a synth intro, but nothing to indicate who is about to make their presence known.  As a result, a general buzz of confusion and anticipation comes over the crowd. 

Other Guy: What’s with this?

Finally, a thunderous rock riff breaks the synth notes, and an explosion brings about a rain of glitter. As “Holy Diver” by Dio competes with boos from the crowd, we can see who demanded on such an extravagant entrance: Decked in his usual jacket and white pants, and Excited Willenium makes it to the entrance ramp, followed slowly by the waves and ever-present grin of his partner, Kilgore Stochansky.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, The Following Tag Team Contest is Set for One Fall…Introducing First, at a combined weight of Four Hundred and Forty-Seven Pounds…”THE WILLENIUM”, TREY WILLETT, AND KILGORE STOCHANSKY!!

The crowds boos only intensify as Kilgore and trey slap hands and start offering the crowd fist bumps as they walk down the ramp, an offer that nearly no one takes.

Holy Diver
You've been down too long in the midnight sea
Oh what's becoming of me

Jeff Hansen: I think these two might be a force to be reckoned with, they seem to have really seen eye to eye recently!

Other Guy: Of Course, lets just ignore that Kilgore put God-knows-what into Cade Sydal’s water!

Eryk masters: Guys...lets not do this tonight. I don’t have the energy for that.

Both men slide into the ring, and after a moment of strutting, make their way to the corner turnbuckles, where they both scale upwards and raise their arms triumphant, grinning and posing to renewed boos.

Ride the tiger
You can see his stripes but you know he's clean
Oh don't you see what I mean…

Trey whips off his jacket, and Kilgore strips down to his wrestling tights.  They both begin to stretch out as Dio begins to fade and is suddenly replaced with “Anxiety” by the Black Eyed Peas featuring Papa Roach! Diehard fans cheer loudly, and the arena explodes the moment Cade Sydal and Dan Stein step through the curtain together! Cade holds his Laws of Survival Title in the air, while Dan Stein raises his Iron Fist Title high in the air! They start making their way down the ramp, Cade a few steps behind Stein’s determined march as his legs wobble a little with every step.

Other Guy: Cade’s walking isn’t a good indication for him!

Samantha Coil: And their opponents! At a combined weight of 394 pounds! They are the Laws of Survival Champion, CAAAAAAAADE SYYYYYYYYYDAAAAAAAAAAAL! And the Iron Fist Champion DAAAAAAAAAAAN STEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIN!

Stein turns and looks at Cade, who waves him off and gives him a thumbs up. The two continue down the ramp and Stein hops onto the apron while Cade rolls under the bottom rope! Stein slingshots over the ropes, and the two of them hold their titles high over head again as the music fades out!

Jeff Hansen: I’ll admit, Cade looks a little fucked up right now.

Other Guy: Hopefully he can overcome it and get his head in the fight.

Kilgore Stochansky gets on the apron, and Dan Stein uneasily does the same in the opposite corner, while Tony Lorenzo asks Cade Sydal if he’s okay. Cade waves his hands, indicating that he is, and Tony Lorenzo signals for the bell.

Eryk Masters: And it looks like Cade Sydal is going to go ahead and wrestle.

Other Guy: He’s got to be feeling funny. He couldn’t even walk straight down to the ring!

Cade and Trey Willett circle the ring and come together in the center of the ring, and Trey quickly pulls Cade into a headlock. Cade is quick to kick his left leg through Trey’s legs, taking Trey over with a sort of arm drag out of the headlock! Trey is up quick, but Cade is slow to get steady on his feet again, and Trey rushes Cade from behind and locks him in a waistlock!

Jeff Hansen: Cade’s disorientation is not going to do him any favors against the likes of Trey Willett right now.

Cade plants his right foot and swings his left foot behind Trey’s left leg and drops, taking Trey down with a drop toehold trip. Cade sort of slowly rolls over Trey’s back and hooks him in a front facelock.

Other Guy: Instincts, I think, are kicking in, and while he’s moving a little slowly it looks like Cade is keeping the advantage on Trey right here.

Cade pulls Trey to his feet with the front facelock and Cade backs into his corner and tags in Dan Stein. Stein hops in the ring and together Stein and Sydal whip Trey off the ropes. Stein meets Trey with a big back elbow, and Cade swings one of his own a second too late, barely clipping Trey in the shoulder as Trey is already going down, and Cade stumbles a step!

Eryk Masters: Cade has got to let Stein stay in the ring from this point on, because he is in no condition to wrestle.

Jeff Hansen: I’m going to actually agree. Dan Stein has a better chance of winning this thing on his own than he does with Cade in the ring at all; which isn’t saying he’ll win, because those other two are going to do their best to pretty much kill him.

Cade slowly backs out of the ring and starts rubbing at his eyes, while Stein hits the ropes to the side and hits a running knee drop across Trey’s face before turning and hooking a leg!

ONE!

TW–!

Trey kicks out before even a two-count, and Stein pulls him up without hesitation. Stein whips Trey off the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a scoop, but Trey slides behind Stein’s back and locks him in a waistlock! Trey runs Stein toward the ropes, but Stein hooks the ropes with his arms and Trey bounces off Stein’s back to the canvas! Trey rolls backward as Stein turns around and leaps at Trey with a spinning wheel kick that takes Trey straight back to the canvas!

Other Guy: If Stein can keep up this momentum he’ll do just that. He needs to keep healthy, keep aggressive and never give them the space to get their wits about them I think.

Jeff Hansen: That’ll be honestly easier said than done. They’re both former Laws of Survival Champions, and whether anyone likes how they got those titles or kept them, they did. They’re not pushovers.

Stein quickly slides into Trey and hooks a leg again!

ONE!
TWO!

Trey kicks out right after the two-count this time, andStein pulls him up again, but Trey snaps Stein’s hands away and turns, snapmaring Stein over suddenly before dropkicking Stein in the back of the head! Trey gets to his feet and pulls Stein up by the hair and tags in Kilgore Stochansky! Trey hooks Stein up in a vertical suplex, and Kilgore moves behind Trey and pulls Stein down horizontally, holding his legs with both arms, before Trey falls to his rear and Kilgore quickly drops to a knee, crashing Stein’s neck down on Trey’s shoulder and his back down on Kilgore’s upraised knee!

Eryk Masters: What a move from Trey Willett and Kilgore Stochansky! That is a big momentum shifter!

Trey slips out of the ring as Kilgore makes a somewhat relaxed cover.

ONE!

Cade starts in the ring but his foot catches on the second rope and he stumbles!

TWO!

Stein kicks out just as Cade pushes back to his feet and backs out of the ring. Kilgore pulls Stein to his feet and sends him to the ropes, and Cade actually slaps Stein’s back as he rebounds! Kilgore catches Stein up for a spinebuster and turns with it, but Cade runs at him from behind and lunges, taking Kilgore’s leg out from behind with a chop block!

Other Guy: I don’t know if Cade should have tagged in, but it stopped Stein from taking a big-time spinebuster there. At least his sense of friendship isn’t skewed from whatever those pills were.

Jeff Hansen: I think its obvious that they were some sort of pain killer, give his noticeable disorientation. Likely strong ones. Maybe oxycodine or something like that.

Neither Eryk Masters or Other Guy ask why Jeff would know that. Meanwhile Stein rolls off of Kilgore and is escorted out of the ring as Cade hits the ropes to the side and runs full sprint for Kilgore! Cade leaps up for a running Shooting Star Press! But he lands with his left shoulder on Kilgore’s chest, instead of making it all the way around, and while some fans pop, some can also be heard grimacing. Cade turns awkwardly and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

Kilgore easily kicks out.

Eryk Masters: Whatever pills those were, they’re messing up Cade’s usual gameplan and it would be very wise of him to tag out right now.

Instead, Cade grabs Kilgore by his head and starts pulling him to his feet. Kilgore quickly reaches both hands up into Cade’s face and digs a thumb into each eye before rushing Cade back to a neutral corner! Kilgore whips Cade to the opposite corner and Cade hits the turnbuckles hard and stumbles out while Kilgore rushes him and drives him down with a BIG STO takedown!

Jeff Hansen: Caput Mortuum connects, and look at Cade’s eyes guys!

The camera focuses in on Cade’s face as his pupils are dilated. His face also appears to be getting pale, as Kilgore turns Cade back over onto his back and covers him with a forearm on his hin!

ONE!

TWO!

Stein is there to quickly grab Kilgore’s ankle and pulls him off the cover!

Other Guy: Dan Stein just saved this match for his team, as Cade shows no signs that he was anywhere close to kicking out.

Eryk Masters: I don’t think he fully comprehends where he is. He looked confused on that closeup.

Kilgore turns back to Cade and pulls him to his feet, grinning from ear-to-ear, as the fans boo. Kilgore backs Cade to the center of the ring then whips him at his corner toward Trey! Cade runs his left foot up on the apron and swings his right foot through for the rope-posting Shining Wizard!

Jeff Hansen: SWYG! Misses!

Sure enough< Trey Willett ducks just a little and Cade’s leg flies over him, Cade turns fully and his planted left foot slips off the middle rope and he lands with his crotch on the top rope!

Other Guy: What a helluva way to miss, too!

Cade bounces off the rope and spills to the arena floor! Kilgore turns and tags in Trey, and Trey immediately drops off the apron and moves to Cade, pulls him up by his head and smashes his face off the ring edge!

Eryk Masters: If Jeff’s guess is right, at least Cade won’t be feeling the effects of that too much because I know from experience, that HURTS!

Other Guy: But that doesn’t mean his brains won’t still get scrambled, and that he can’t be knocked unconscious!
Trey pulls Cade away from the apron and whips him into the ringsteps with a loud thud! Dan Stein starts to cut through the ring, and Tony Lorenzo intercepts him! Trey smirks as Cade pushes to his feet. He turns his body to the side and coughs hard twice before Trey Willett suddenly runs at him and launches a knee up into his chin, and Cade crashes back down to the arena floor!

Jeff Hansen: Did you hear that?! Looked like Cade’s body was going to expel the toxins, but Trey stopped that mess from happening with a big knee, thankfully!

Other Guy: Ya know Jeff, you’re really fucked up.

Jeff Hansen: I’m sorry, did you want to see Cade vomit everywhere? Because I, for one, get all pukey when I see someone else hurl. Maybe that’s just me though.

Trey grabs Cade as Stein finally gets back in his corner and Tony Lorenzo starts shouting for Trey to get it back in the ring. Trey rolls Cade under the bottom rope but keeps his head and rolls Cade’s head over the edge of the ring, facing the ceiling. Trey suddenly kicks up into the back of Cade’s head and his body lurches violently before he rolls over, his eyes starting to roll into the back of his head as his face looks to be about as pale as a ghost!

Eryk Masters: That kick right there could have knocked Cade out, whether he realizes it or not!

Trey slides into the ring and drags Cade away from the ropes before hooking the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

TH–!

Dan Stein runs across the ring and kicks Trey hard in the chest, breaking the count. Tony Lorenzo starts backing up Stein, and Stein can be heard shouting.

Dan Stein: SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT, MAN! GET CADE OUT OF HERE! FUCK!

Trey Willet moves to start arguing with Stein, angered by the kick in his chest obviously.

Trey Willett: Stay the fuck out of the ring you fucking asshole!

Other Guy: Some STRONG words from Trey Willett!

Tony Lorenzo makes sure Stein won’t get in the ring as Trey turns back to Cade who starts to actually push up to his feet! Cade lunges at Trey with a punch for the abdomen suddenly, but misses by inches and falls flat on his face!

Jeff Hansen: If Cade weren’t so out of it, he would have scored with that punch because Trey had no clue that was coming.

That fact doesn’t stop Trey, though, as he quickly makes his way to his corner and tags Kilgore’s hand. Trey moves to Cade and pulls him up in a Camel Clutch, holding him there as Kilgore Stochansky moves in front of Cade’s left side and kicks Cade in the face! Trey steps to the side, and kicks Cade in the face from a different angle again! Kilgore steps to the side and kicks again. And again on the right side of the face, before Trey finally releases Cade and backs out of the ring.

Eryk Masters: Brutal stomps to Cade’s colorless face! He is in real bad shape and Dan Stein needs to find a way to get him out of there badly!

Cade’s body spasms a little before Kilgore drops to make the cover, without even hooking a leg.

ONE!

TWO!

Dan Stein rushes the ring and dropkicks the side of Kilgore’s head, breaking the count! Stein is escorted out of the ring and Cade suddenly lurches a shoulder off the canvas!

Other Guy: A little late, but Cade apparently remembered what he was doing suddenly and...hopefully this means he’s going to be back in this thing!

Kilgore pulls Cade up by his arm and chops him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back to the ropes. Kilgore sends Cade off the ropes and chases Cade down! Cade rebounds off the ropes as Kilgore wildly swings his arm, planting it in Cade’s chest!

Jeff Hansen: Strong Arm Tactics! If Cade wasn’t out already, he’s definitely out now!

Eryk Masters: Cade has had little-to-no offense tonight, and that’s a little shocking, you’ve got to admit.

Other Guy: You’ve gotta believe those pills Kilgore slipped in his water HAS to have something to do with that!

Kilgore grins at the crowd before placing a foot on Cade’s chest, lazily.

ONE!

TWO!

Stein starts into the ring and Kilgore lifts his foot up and stares at Stein. Kilgore pulls Cade up by his feet and locks him in an armbar before dragging him across the ring and tagging in Trey! Together they both send Cade off the ropes, and Cade stumbles to a knee before making it to the ropes. Cade grabs the ropes and pulls himself up before turning and running at Trey, and Trey catches Cade with an inverted atomic drop! Kilgore hits the ropes behind Trey and lunges his boot up into Cade’s face over Trey’s head, driving Cade to the canvas!

Jeff Hansen: Whatever the reason is for Cade’s lack of fight, he is getting destroyed in that ring! Trey Willett and Kilgore Stochansky are murdering him and he’s oblivious to it!

Stein starts through the ropes, and Trey doesn’t even go for the cover. In stead he pulls Cade to his feet and backs him into a neutral corner and slaps him hard across the face. Cade’s head lulls from side to side, his mouth wide open.

Trey Willett: You stupid son of a bitch!

Trey slaps Cade again in the face hard before disgustedly walking to the far corner. Trey runs at Trey rapidly, but Cade somehow turns an elbow up into Trey’s chin! Trey stumbles back a bit and Cade pushes out of the corner and runs at him! Trey swingsa a clothesline and Cade ducks, dropping to a knee. Cade pushes off his knee and snaps into a sloppy backflip as Trey turns, catching Trey with his right foot in Trey’s face!

Other Guy: Not the prettiest one we’ve seen from Cade, but the Pele Kick connects!

Eryk Masters: He absolutely needs to get out of the ring right now. He’s dangerously close to going into shock judging by the look on his face.

Cade slowly starts to crawl to his corner as Dan Stein loudly urges him on! Trey quickly turns and rolls toward his own corner! Trey lunges and tags in Kilgore, who slowly steps through the ropes. Cade suddenly pushes and leaps, barely grazing his fingers against Stein’s. Stein slingshots over the ropes and rushes at Kilgore, catching him with a running forearm! Stein sends Kilgore off the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a HUGE back body drop!

Jeff Hansen: Stein has got to have an adrenaline rush now, because Kilgore Stochansky is a pretty fair amount larger than Stein and he just threw him through the air!

Trey is up and he runs at Stein, but Stein catches him with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Stein pulls Trey off his knee into a waistlock and snaps him up and over with a release German Suplex! Kilgore is back up and he rushes Stein with a wild clothesline, but Stein ducks under it and turns, dropkicking Kilgore through the ropes to the outside! Cade pulls himself up on the ropes, and Trey runs at Stein, this time being caught by the back of the head and Trey is sent sailing over the top rope next to Kilgore on the outside!

Other Guy: Dan Stein, I think, is about to fly!

Stein runs to the ropes and his back slaps where Cade’s hand rests on the rope! Stein continues running as Tony Lorenzo tells Cade he’s been tagged in. Stein leaps up onto the top rope and springboards off! Dan Stein with a springboard Shooting Star Press onto both Kilgore Stochansky and Trey Willett!
Eryk Masters: Dan Stein just picked up the seven-ten split! And he is on fire!

Jeff Hansen: Too bad he doesn’t realize he tagged Cade back in, huh?

Cade slowly steps through the ropes as Stein rolls Kilgore back into the ring! Stein roars to the crowd and starts into the ring, until Tony Lorenzo tells him to get out and informs him of what happened!

Other Guy: Come on. You know Stein didn’t intentionally tag in Cade!

Jeff Hansen: But unfortunately, he did.

Cade slowly moves towards Kilgore, on wobbly legs. Cade bends and pulls Kilgore up in an inverted facelock!

Eryk Masters: I’m not sure this is a good idea, but Cade’s going for the Nightcap!

Cade rolls under Kilgore slowly, and Kilgore easily defends against the Nightcap by sliding back up to a vertical base behind Cade! Kilgore hooks Cade by the neck and chickenwings the arm just as Trey Willett grabs Stein’s legs from outside the ring and pulls him down, dragging him under the ropes!

Jeff Hansen: NONE SHALL PASS!

Kilgore snaps back with the lethal crossface-chickenwing suplex and Cade lands on his head in a lifeless heap! Kilgore quickly moves into the cover while Trey kicks Stein in the gut and smashes his face off the ring edge!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

The bell sounds, while Trey Willett turns Stein around and whips him hard into the guard rail!

Samantha Coil: Here are your winners! At a time of 29 minutes and 59 seconds! KIIIIIIIILGOOOOOOORE STOOOOOOOOOOOCHAAAAAAAAAAANSKYYYYYYYYY and TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETT!

Kilgore pushes off of Cade while Trey lays into Stein with punches to the face against the guard rail! Kilgore reaches into his pants and pulls out his brass knuckles and slowly slips them on his fingers with a grin!

Eryk Masters: Oh come on! You won the match!

Other Guy: Cade is already lifeless! He’s definitely going to need some sort of medical attention!

Kilgore drops to mount Cade and starts driving the brass knuckled fist into Cade’s face!

Jeff Hansen: Even I have to admit, this is a bit excessive.

Trey hooks Stein for a suplex on the arena floor, while Kilgore methodically continues to rain fists down into Cade’s face! Stein blocks the suplex and throws Trey’s arm off his head before thrusting a knee into his abdomen! He turns to look in the ring and quickly shoves Trey to the side and slides in! Kilgore rolls away from Cade quickly, avoiding the wrath of Stein as Trey moves around the ring to meet Kilgore Stochansky! The sound system is overtaken by Black Keys’ “Strange Times” and the fans boo loudly.

Dan Stein looks down at Cade and tries to stir him, but Cade’s head lulls back, his ghostly pale face marred with red welts. His body spasms again violently, and Stein starts shouting for help. Tony Lorenzo starts waving to the back, while Kilgore Stochansky and Trey Willett raise their hands victoriously, the boos are deafening!

Eryk Masters: We...we need to get help out here for Cade.

Cade’s head turns and he starts coughing. Mark Kendrick quickly runs his little trash can to the ring and Tony Lorenzo positions it by Cade’s head as he coughs twice more before clear liquid spews out into the black container!

Jeff Hansen: GROSS! Turn the camera away!

The camera turns to the ramp as Kilgore Stochansky finally make it up to the stage, both grinning proudly as various referees and a few on-stand EMTs run down to the ring!

Other Guy: That...that is a vile, sickening scene.

Eryk Masters: Two...two weeks in a row we’ve ended with Cade Sydal broken and either bloody or spewing other bodily fluids.

Jeff Hansen: Seriously, stop talking about it. Gross...fucking gross!

The scene slowly fades out to the SHOOT Project logo.