Revolution 012: 11/11/07

Dave Dymond: The guys in production have graced us with a new opening video, OG!

Other Guy: A damn fine opening video, too, I might add. Jason apparently went and splurged on some updates to the set. I like his style!

Dave Dymond: This is the 12th Revolution since the SHOOT Project made it’s glorious return. I heard that he wanted to spice the set up after the 10th, but ran into some difficulties. I remember that week being particularly rowdy!

Other Guy: I don’t expect tonight to be much different! Lots going on here. Lots of new SHOOT guys catching fire here, starting off with NC-17 taking on Jacob Delacroy. That’s right now!

Samantha Coil : " The following match is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of 15 minutes!"

"Icky Thump" by The White Stripes begins to blast out from the arena speakers,working the crowd into a cheering frenzy. NC-17 begins to saunter down the ramp,a trademark cocky smirk plastered across his lips. The seductive Barbie Keller skips along beside him,her blonde locks bouncing as she escorts her man to the ring. NC-17 pauses by the ring steps to bump fists with a young fan,then he slides in under the bottom rope and runs over to one of the turnbuckles,climbing up to the second rope and extending his fists skyward. The crowd lets out a substantial roar of approval. Barbie claps her hands on the outside and nods her head while pointing to her man.

Samantha Coil : " Introducing first….weighing in at 234lbs….NC-17!!!!!!!!!"

NC-17 places his hands apon the ropes and leans back to await his opponent,a determined look apon his face. Silence falls over the crowd as the strange guitar riffs of John Murphy’s "In A Heartbeat" begin to rip out from the loudspeakers. It starts off soft and then becomes louder and louder as Delacroy steps out from behind the curtain. His face remains grave,then it spreads up into a sick and twisted grin. He pauses at the top of the ramp,taking time to lift up his shirt to display the swastika tattoo on his chest. The crowd showers him with boos.

Samantha Coil : " Next up..weighing in at 289lbs…JACOB " DOOMBRINGER" DELACROY!!!!!!!!"

Jacob begins to stride down the ramp towards the ring,throwing his head from left to right,talking smack to the fans. He notices one fan holding up a sign that says RACIST in big black letters. Jacob pauses before this fan and lets out ragged chuckle,sticking up his middle finger at the young man before climbing up into the ring. Delacroy paces one side of the ring like an animal,hands curling up into fists. His mud brown eyes never leave NC-17’s face.

Samantha makes a quick exit as the bell rings to signal this one is under way. NC-17 begins to circle Delacroy,racing up his arms in the intent to start up a grapple. Jacob doesn’t move an inch. He purses his lips and makes a kissing gesture towards NC-17,cocking his head to the side to follow his progress around the ring.

Dave Dymond : " And already we see Delacroy starting with the mind games. This man is NOT right in the head folks."

Other Guy : " He keeps his wife locked up in a cage. He seems almost oblivious to pain. And all you can say is he’s not right in the head? Come on Dave..that’s the understatement of the century. Delacroy is a PSYCHOPATH."

NC-17 starts to get frustrated with Delacroy’s lack of movement. The brash newcomer pistons forward in one swift motion and wraps his arm around one of Jacob’s big legs,going for a takedown. Delacroy raises up an arm and hammers it down onto NC-17’s shoulders,knocking him down to a knee with a clubbing blow.

Other Guy : " Delacroy wouldn’t even budge. NC-17’s got his work cut out for him tonight."

Dave Dymond : " Yeah but this kid’s got potential Other Guy. He might be a rookie…but he’s already shown that he has a tremendous ring presence,the performance he put on in his debut match against Willineum and Sepulcher is a testament to that."

Delacroy crouches downward and locks a chokehold around NC-17’s throat. Using pure force of will he drives him towards one of the turnbuckles,gritting his teeth. NC-17 has both arms locked around Jacob’s one big arm,trying to break the hold. Jacob rears back on his haunches and launches NC into the turnbuckle. NC’s back blasts into the turnbuckle and he crumples against it,his arms laying over the top rope. Jacob moves in fast and starts laying into his ribs with a series of hard rights and lefts. This goes on for a few seconds,each blow seeming to rock NC-17’s body. Finally Jaocb steps back and delivers a HUGE uppercut to NC’s chin. The impact alone sends a shockwave through his body,his feet flying up off the mat and his head rocking back.

Dave Dymond : " Now THAT is an uppercut. Almost took NC-17’s head off with that shot."

Jacob proceeds over the opposite turnbuckle while NC remains dazed. Jacob gets gets up a head of steam and runs towards NC-17,looking for a clothesline. At the last moment NC gets an elbow up and blasts Jacob in the face with it. The big man staggers back a few steps,trying to shake out the cobwebs. NC-17 wastes no time,he fires off a stiff kick to the back of Jacob’s knee,dropping him down against the ropes. NC-17 then jumps up onto the second rope and springboards off of it,spinning in mid air and blasting down onto the back of Jacob’s shoulders with a double axe handle blow. The force of this drives Jacob’s neck down onto one of the ropes,stunning him and causing him to bark out a hoarse cough.

NC-17 runs to the other side of the ring and hits the ropes,then seeing his opening he plants both knees into Jacob’s back as he’s laid out over the bottom rope. Delacroy’s body slumps down to the canvas. NC-17 grabs him by one arm and drags him away from the ropes towards the center of the ring. He quickly goes for the cover,hoisting up one leg.

ONE!

Jacob fires his shoulder up,the brunt of his fist even managing to whip into NC-17’s face.

Other Guy : " NC-17 looking to end this quickly. And that seems like it would be the best thing to do. However…it’s gonna take a whole lot more to do in this monster."

Dave Dymond : " But that’s an example of how smart NC-17 is when he steps into the ring. He knew to get Jacob away from those ropes before trying a pin."

Delacroy is making his way up to a vertical base now,pushing up from the mat with both hands. NC-17 sees this and LEAPS up with a picture perfect Dropsault,planting both boots into Jacob’s chest and flipping backwards at the same time. The force of this knocks Jacob back against the ropes,and he barely manages to stay on his feet. Keeping with the offense NC-17 moves in and goes for a jumping calf kick while Jacob’s still leaning against the ropes. But the big man sees it coming,and he gets both forearms up and blocks the attempt. NC-17 hits the mat but quickly regains his footing,he turns around to face Jacob and just then he’s met with a BRUTAL axe kick that smashes down onto his shoulders,driving him down to onto his belly.

Dave Dymond : " Wow! What an exchange between these two…I’m lovin it."

Other Guy : " With all these damn kicks seems like this is turning into a soccer game instead of a wrestling match!"

Dave Dymond : " …."

Like a shark smelling blood, Jacob rushes in and grabs NC up off the mat. Holding him along the long axis of the body Jacob lifts up and smashes NC-17 down side first onto his knee with a gutbuster. Jacob lands on his knees and smirks down at NC’s motionless form. He rises to his feet and begins to shoot off with a few rapid fire stomps to NC-17’s ribs. Jacob repositions himself and drops down next to NC’s body..grabbing up one arm and one leg and locking in a stiff bow & arrow lock.

Other Guy : " Delacroy really working the torso here. NC-17’s gonna be sore tomorrow for sure."

Dave Dymond : " Well this just goes to show you what Delacroy’s unique style is like. He mixes technical skill with raw brawling and it just works. You don’t know rather the guy is gonna jack your jaw or lock in an armbar..that’s the unpredictability factor with him."

NC-17 struggles on the matt,his face strained down in effort to fight the pain. Jacob cinches in the hold tighter, yanking back on NC’s arm and leg as if he’s intent on pulling them right out of the sockets. In a pure desperation move NC gathers up all his strength and makes a worm-like slither movement towards the ropes. He manages to get close enough to reach out with his free leg and place it onto the bottom rope. Austin Linam runs in and instructs Delacroy to break the hold. Jacob holds on for a few seconds longer,grinding out as much as he can. Then with a sneer he lets loose and looks at Linam as if to say " Happy now?"

Dave Dymond : " Austim Linam doing his job right here tonight folks. Jacob ain’t happy about it…but to be honest Jacob strikes me as the type that is rarely happy about ANYTHING in life."

Other Guy : " Really? Actually I get a very positive vibe from him. Perhaps he just doesn’t like you because you’ve got some native american in you or something."

Dave Dymond shakes his head and shoots Other Guy a look.

Jacob Delacroy grabs up NC-17 by his hair and begins bringing him up to his feet. Yet in a surprise burst of speed NC locks Jacob by the neck and rolls back onto the mat with a small package! Linam drops down with his hand smacking against the canvas.

ONE!

TWO!

Jacob gets the shoulder up and pushes NC-17 away from him. He rolls his body to one side of the ring and rises to his feet. Those unstable eyes seem to burn with frustration,and he begins stalking his way over to NC-17 as he also rises to his feet. Jacob goes to lock his arms around NC’s waist but the young superstar latches his hands around the back of Jacob’s neck and drops to his knees with a jawbreaker. Jacob staggers back to the middle of the ring holding onto his jaw and the side of his neck. NC-17 takes this time to sprint into the ropes and on the rebound he smashes a shoulder into Jacob’s gut,dropping him to the mat. NC-17 follows him down though,purposely landing on top of the big man. He begins to fire off fists into Jacob’s face,pounding at him like a piece of meat. Delacroy manages to get his arms up to block a few of the shots,but quite a few of them found their mark.

Dave Dymond : " Now the brawler in NC-17 is showing itself. This kid can be VICIOUS when need be."

Other Guy : " You gotta be vicious when you face off against a madman like Delacroy."

NC-17 dismounts and grabs up Delacroy under the arms,trying to bring his dazed weight to a standing postion. Delacroy rolls onto his side,not being very cooperative.

NC takes this moment to drop and roll out of the ring…he walks over to Barbie Keller with some sort of scheme in mind. Barbie reaches down into her shirt and pulls out a fluffy blonde wig,thrusting it into NC’s hands. The ref watches on while looking baffled,his count up to 2 for ring out. NC-17 pops this wig onto his head and then digs down into his tights,looking for something. After a few moments of digging he pulls out a tube of lipstick. NC brings it up to his lips and begins rubbing rose red color onto his lips. He purses them a few times and then cracks his neck,raising his eyebrows while playing to the crowd. They roar with good cheer,really liking this.

Other Guy : " What the hell is NC-17 doing? Doesn’t he know this is a family show! He shouldn’t be putting on blonde wigs and digging in his tights like that in the middle of a match!"

Dave Dymond : " NC-17 loves to have fun Other Guy…and I think he’s looking to have some fun at Delacroy’s expense here."

NC-17 slides back into the ring under the bottom rope,taking time to adjust his wig. He flips his hair and begins to prance over to where Jacob lies apon the canvas. NC reaches down and pulls Jacob up. Delacroy appears to be stunned,for he sways on his feet. NC-17 takes a moment to shoot the crowd a mischievousness glance,then he drives his head forward and plants a BIG WET ONE right on Jacob’s mouth. Delacroy comes to his senses then,ripping himself backwards and pushing NC-17 forward and away from him. He scrubs at his mouth with one hand,absolutely disgusted.

Other Guy : " HAHAHA! NC-17 just gave Delacroy a smooch he’ll never forget!"

Dave Dymond: " And we all know how much Delacroy hates homosexuals. Well to be honest he hates almost anyone… But especially homosexuals."

NC-17 rushes forward with his hands outstretched,as if looking for another kiss. His puckering lips are met with a MASSIVE haymaker punch from Delacroy that staggers NC back a few steps. He hits the ropes and rebounds,holding his mouth. Then going on instinct alone NC-17 fires into Delacroy with a dragon whip kick that catches him on the skull. Jacob falls to the mat in a heap. NC-17 leans over,his wig falling off as he tries to lock in some sort of submission on Delacroy.

It appears as though Jacob was just playing possum though for he fires up with his arms breaking NC’s grip. Moving fast he grabs NC-17 and forces his head in between his legs. Jacob then hoists NC-17’s body up into a powerbomb position. He pauses for a moment,then HAMMERS NC’s body down to the matt with an impact that shakes the very ring. Yet not he’s done there,for now letting go…Jacob powers NC-17 back up onto his shoulders and smashes him down a second time. Then with sweat pouring down his face Delacroy keeps hold of NC’s body…lifting him up once more. However this time around he switches the position of his hands,taking hold of NC-17’s arms and letting him slide down past his back. Jacob falls forward with all of his force crushing NC-17 into the canvas with a crucifix powerbomb!

Other Guy : " Now THAT is power. SCARY power from this ruthless Louisiana native."

Dave Dymond : " Twin powerbombs capped off with a crucifix powerbomb! NC-17 might be out cold after that onslaught."

Jacob gathers himself up to his feet with a sick grin on his face. He makes a cut throat gesture with his hand and the crowd begins to boo with great emphasis. Jacob attempts to raise NC-17 up to his feet.yet his motionless body flops right back down to the mat like dead weight. Jacob tries a second time and manages to get him up..yet NC-17 only manages to stay up by leaning against Jacob’s chest. Delacroy rears back as if he’s about to throw a fist…yet before he has the chance NC-17 fires off a weak kick directed towards his torso. Jacob catches it easily in one hand and shakes his head back and forth while grinning. NC-17 hops twice with his leg snagged and then somehow he digs down deep and leaps up with a HUGE enzuigiri that finds it’s mark on the side of Jacob’s head. Jacob crumples down to the mat like a sack of wet paper,and NC-17 falls down as well,finally getting the chance to catch his breath. After a few seconds of rest NC-17 grabs the ropes and uses them to help pull himself up to his feet. Looking at Jacob’s unmoving body he begins to climb the turnbuckle,getting up the top and positioning himself for a high risk move.

Other Guy : " This could be do or die for NC-17. We’ll either see a payoff or a car crash."

After finding his balance NC-17 LEAPS from the top turnbuckle and lands smack onto Delacroy’s chest with a body splash. The impact wounds NC as well as he rolls off the side of the ring holding his ribs. Jacob lies unmoving in the middle of the ring on his back. NC-17 rolls over to one of the turnbuckles and pulls himself up to a semi-sitting postion while holding his torso. He looks at Jacob and a cocky smirk spreads across his face as he realizes he’s got this one in the bag. But just then as NC-17 begins to pull himself up to his feet….Delacroy does the zombie sit-up. His mouth his drawn up into a grimance of pain and rage,he swings his head to the left and spots NC-17. His eyes grow hot as he begins to will himself up to his feet. The shot zooms in on NC-17 who has a surprised look on his face as he mouthes the words " what the f ***".

Other Guy : " Jesus…Delacroy sat right up there. This man is a force to be reckoned with!"

Jacob is moving slowly while pulling himself upwards,so NC-17 takes the time to hop up onto the turnbuckle once more. He steadies himself and then waits for Jacob to turn around…then NC leaps off going for a missile dropkick. Jacob scouts this move though and swats NC out of the air like a fly. NC-17 crashes down the mat and lands awkwardly on his side. Wasting no time Jacob stalks over and pulls NC up. Be begins to smash off brutal knee blasts into NC-17’s jaw…switching up and using each knee a few times.

Other Guy : " I know what’s coming…he’s loading both barrels now Dymond!"

After this barrage Jacob pulls NC’s head towards him and plants it between his legs. He locks up his arms and then leaps, yet at the last moment NC breaks out of his grip and rolls backwards. Delacroy runs in towards him as NC-17 leaps to his feet and hits the ropes,but his momentum works against him…for as he runs forward NC-17 rolls through and pulls him down with him,rolling him up into a pinning predicament.

Dave Dymond : " We got a pin here…will it be enough?"

Linam gets into position.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Austin Linam waves his hand to the timekeeper and the bell is rung. The man in stripes then rushes over to NC-17 and raises his arm. NC-17 rises to his feet,wiping a bit of sweat from his cheek with a cocky smirk on his face.

Samantha Coil : Here is your winner…at a time of thirteen minutes and four seconds…NC-17!!!!"

Other Guy : " NC-17 managing to steal one here tonight. I think all this action has his smeared lipstick though!"

Dave Dymond : " What an impressive showing from these two new SHOOT project superstars."

Delacroy remains in the ring,steaming after his loss. His face is pure rage as he shakes the ropes and practically roars as NC-17 and Barbie Keller make their way up the ramp,looking back at him while smirking.

Removed from the locker room area, removed from the kraft tables where SHOOT Project crew normally hang around, Trevor Worrens sits alone, head lowered, deep in thought.  The SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Title rests across his lap, his arms resting over it. His thoughts alone, focused on Roland Caldwell and the second defense of the prestigious championship he obtained at Uprising. On everything that is to come.

“…I’ve been lookin’ for you…”

Worrens looks up suddenly, his thoughts, his mood, it all changes.

Trevor Worrens: Why?  What the hell do you want?

Worrens’s eyes lock immediately with the eyes of Ray Willmott.

Trevor Worrens: Didn’t you hear me last week?  I beat you, I beat you for this!

Worrens holds up the World Heavyweight Championship at the same time he rises up from his seat.  For a time, Ray Willmott is silent, just staring intricately at the golden plated belt, dangling in front of him. In a fleeting moment, his eyes are no longer set on the champion, no longer engaged with Trevor Worrens, but on the prize. On that which means most to him.  After several more moments, Willmott calmly turns his head to face Trevor Worrens, returning the ice cold stare, finally accepting that it is not his, that his time has not yet come…

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: …You beat me … yes, you fucking did … but sooner rather than later, you’re going to have to do it again, whether you like it or you don’t!

Worrens steps forward, decreasing the distance between himself and Willmott.

Trevor Worrens: So then you came here to puff out your chest for all the fans, Ray? You came in search of me, to tell me I don’t get to call my shots… that I’m not done with you?  Seems like a waste of time if you ask me.

Willmott does not flinch.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: I came to see our World Heavyweight Champion. To see what he is all about. For the past few weeks, I’ve kept my distance. I stated my case publically, but I’ve let you craft the mould. I’ve allowed you the chance to carve out your legacy, and start ushering in this era of SHOOT Project. I’ve allowed you to be you, Trevor Worrens. To allow your soul to mesh with that which you’re flashing in front of my eyes. I’ve allowed all this Trevor, so that we can come to the here, so that we can be in this now, so that I can look into your eyes … and see exactly what path we’re taking. To see where you’re leading us. To see whether or not, I actually believe in the man representing me, day in, day out …

While Willmott didn’t flinch, Worrens does.  It takes him a moment to come to terms with Willmott’s words.

Trevor Worrens: …I don’t care if you believe in me or not.  I didn’t win this for you, the people out there.  But here I am, Ray.  Just out of curiosity how do I measure up then?  What do you see when you see me?

He takes a step closer to Worrens, and now both men are nose to nose with each other. The crowd in the arena are buzzing with anticipation at the potential.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: …Well, it’s that lack of fucking care which makes me think your affiliation with this … (He knocks the World title with the knuckle of his right hand) …isn’t built to last!

Worrens suddenly turns away, dropping the title onto the chair he was sitting in earlier, and then he spins back around, nearly butting heads with Willmott.

Trevor Worrens: I get it, you think I’m going to fail out there tonight against Roland. You think since you barely survived, that I don’t stand a chance?  I fucking care, Ray.  But I don’t care about the fans; I don’t care about the SHOOT Project soldiers.  It’s just me, now. That’s all I can afford to care about.

<</strong>b>’Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: And so with your focus so channelled upon one person, don’t you think that makes you vulnerable? While you may not care about me or Kaz Sato or Roland Caldwell, the fact is … we exist! We’re here! We’re very much alive, and not a figment of the imagination! It’s true … Roland Caldwell tore me to shreds in a steel cage, he busted my head open, he hurt my body, he punished me, Trevor … but the difference is, I expected it! I’ve seen the tapes. I’ve heard the stories. Now I’ve experienced the pain!

He looks at Trevor Worrens with all seriousness.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: You have all the nouse, all the bravado of a World Champion. You make challenges. You accept all comers!  And because of that, tonight you will experience the anxiety, just as I did. You will come to terms with what it is you’ve challenged, without fully understanding the implications of your decision! All because you choose not to care!!

In the heat of the moment, Worrens lashes out and grabs Willmott by the collar of his shirt!  The fans can be heard reacting from ringside, but in an odd turn of events, Worrens does not strike.  He shakes his head, almost defeated.

Trevor Worrens: Why do you care if I care?

Willmott’s eyes are enlarged as he looks at the hand on his collar. His heart beats faster in respect of the tension brewing, but he does not seem unnerved.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: …Because I care about the integrity of that which is yours! I care about the integrity of SHOOT Project! I care about what it is you are now bound to uphold! If I am not the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion, then I need to know that the man who has it, knows EXACTLY what he’s gotten himself into!

He removes Worrens’ hand from his collar.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: …That he is prepared for all that comes with the responsibility!!

Worrens doesn’t move an inch, his eyes locked into Willmott’s.

Trevor Worrens: I know what I’ve gotten myself into, and I’m prepared to face it.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: Do you?!

The glance fully is reciprocated  and still with eyes locked,  Worrens takes a step back.

Trevor Worrens: I do. And trust me, if this is all some fear that you’ll have to face Roland the next time you want a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship…

Worrens turns and picks up his championship title.

Trevor Worrens: You said it yourself, sooner or later you’re coming back for me.  And who am I to rob you… and your fans, of that chance?

And in perhaps the oddest of moments yet, Worrens smiles slightly at Willmott.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: I’m not deaf to the comments Caldwell has made about me, nor do I fear them. If it comes to facing him again, if it means I get ‘that chance’ … I will fucking take it!!

Willmott cocks his head, slightly confused by Worrens smiling at him.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: You’ve both drawn my blood. You’ve both tortured my body.

He looks at the championship title.

‘Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: …That just makes me hungrier!

Worrens nods, the smile not fading.

Trevor Worrens: Then I guess we’re not done… but for tonight… you’re not my agenda, Ray.

He starts to turn away, but then looks back over his shoulder.

Trevor Worrens: Appreciate the little talk though.

Willmott watches Worrens leaves, words faintly leaving his lips, but loud enough so the champion can hear them.

<</strong>b>’Red Hot’ Ray Willmott: Tomorrow is another day.

The camera cuts to the back, watching the Collins twins walk down the hall, side by side. Rowland sips on a cup of water through a straw, as Michael’s hands never leave his pockets. Michael turns to his brother and nods.

Michael Collins: So, yeh think he’ll be up to it?

Rowland shrugged.

Rowland Collins: Regardless, I think it’s the best place to have the match, aye?

Michael nodded again, as he turned to the office door. The camera panned around behind him, and zoomed in on the plaque on the door.

Jason Johnson

Michael knocks, as a muffled voice invites the brothers in. Michael and Rowland entered the office, Michael more subdued than Rowland, who quickly makes his way to the chair.

Jason Johnson: Ah, the Collins twins. I hear you’ve been trying to get a hold of me all week.

Michael nods.

Michael Collins: Aye, Mr. Johnson.

Jason puts his hand up, stopping Collins from talking.

Jason Johnson: Jason, Michael. How many times do I have to tell you, we’re laid back here. Mr. Johnson is my father.

Michael nods, rubbing his chin.

Michael Collins: Right, Jason. So, uh.. Yeh know I challenged Killian to a match –

Jason Johnson: Yeah, I… signed you two to the match.

Michael Collins: Aye, I suppose yeh did. Well, eh… I was wonderin’ if yeh knew where exactly… we could hold it.

Jason looks at Michael, then to Rowland, who took another sip of his water, quickly.

Jason Johnson: It’s just two weeks to the Pay-Per-View and you don’t know where your match is going to be held?

Michael looks hurried as he slaps his brother on the chest, almost causing him to spit out his water.

Michael Collins: No, no. I know where it should be held, I just didn’t want yeh to already have something planned before I pitched this idea to yeh.

Jason put his pen down, as if waiting for Michael to continue.

Michael Collins: Well, I’ve noticed Dave Marz has his own ‘establishment’… and doesn’t seem ta care much fer it. So… I was hopin’…

Jason Johnson: Do you want me to ask Marz to use the Marz Bar for your fight at Animosity?

Michael slaps his hands together, and then points at Jason.

Michael Collins: Aye! Exactly. I was hopin’ yeh’d do that fer me, I don’t think Marz would be much up fer it if I asked.

Jason chuckles a little.

Jason Johnson: Yeah, Mike. I’ll ask. But don’t be so timid around me, I work with you, not above you, man.

Michael nods as he and his brother stand up.

Michael Collins: Alright, Jason. Definitely. Th-thanks.

Jason laughs again, as the brothers walk away.

Jason Johnson: Don’t worry about it, man.

Fade.

Roland Caldwell stands in the middle of a ring, in the middle of a poorly lit warehouse.  Blood covers his face and chest and he smiles.

The soft strains of guitar.  “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails.

“I hurt myself today…”

Roland staggers around a ring long ago.  Roland wavers and stumbles like a drunk, blood runs from his forehead.  Roland falls from a ladder.  Roland gets contorted in awful inhuman positions.

“I focus on the pain…”

Roland slams a chair into Osbourne Kilminster’s head.  He destroys the Lyger Kid in every way imaginable.  He laughs over the body of some soldier forgotten long ago.

“Everyone I know…”

Roland holds up his hands as Ed Raymond introduces him.  Roland laughs and hugs Mirage.  He and Del Carver shake hands and smile.

“Goes away, in the end…”

A brief flash of a young couple, long dead, their son, Roland Caldwell.  The music rises.  Guitar.  Drum.  Bass.  They pound.  Roland and Mirage exchange punches with frightening speed.

Roland picks Ed Raymond up and slams him to the mat.  Clotheslines.  Roland leaps from the top rope, and drives a knee into the face of an opponent.

“I will let you down.  I will make you hurt…”

Grainy footage.  Roland grabs a fan by the head and drags him over the guardrail.  He begins top punch him and punch him.  Security swarms.  EMTs run down.  Roland laughs.

Roland Caldwell and Diamond Del Carver maim each other.  Barbed wire.  Chairs.  Bats Tables.  The war they still talk about.

Roland picks up Lyger Kid and holds his head close to him.  He whispers in his ear before piledriving him into the cement floor.

“I will make you hurt…”

The harsh grinding of the guitar resonates and builds.  Roland stands, back mid ring in that old warehouse.  He looks down at the blood that soaks his body and he smiles that smile.

He laughs.

As the video concludes, the focus shifts back to ringside with Dave Dymond and Other Guy.  Both commentators look visibly shaken up a bit, but continue on dong their job.

Dave Dymond: Wow… chills, Other Guy.  Absolute chills.

Other Guy: And not the good kind ya get either… something I want out of my mind.

Dave Dymond: I’m sure our World Heavyweight Champion is feeling that same way after witnessing that video, but unfortunately for Trevor Worrens, that main event match up is still to come later tonight.

“Evil Angel” by Breaking Benjamin suddenly kicks in as the lights turn into a purplish hue throughout the Thomas and Mack Arena.  As Sepulcher steps out from the back, they suddenly fade to black… then a single explosion at the start of the ramp way brings the lights up to full!

Dave Dymond: And speaking of scary, here’s all three hundred pounds of it on its way to the ring right now.

Other Guy: Not sure what to make of this creepy cat yet, Dave, but by SIZE alone he’s gonna be making an impact in SHOOT, I just know it.

The fans turn their focus to Sepulcher who just looks straight ahead as he walks methodically towards the ring.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen this next match is set for one fall, introducing first weighing in at 300 pounds… here is SEPULCHER!!!

Sepulcher reaches the ring, not paying much attention one way or another to the fans who really aren’t sure how to react to him.  Sepulcher just reaches up and grabs the top rope, pulling himself up, then he easily walks over the top rope to get into the ring.  Once inside, Sepulcher adjusts the gray glove on his right hand, eyes remaining with a look of focus the entire time.

Dave Dymond: Not an easy battle set before Michael Collins tonight, but considering the fight Collins has to be ready for come November 25th, you don’t get much more practice than from a giant of a man like Sepulcher.

Other Guy: Six ten, Dave.  Tall as he is big, that’s gonna be a hard guy to knock down, but if Collins can do it, then I’m thinkin’ Killian Reilly’s gonna need to start hitting some bigger punching bags himself.

Sepulcher’s music fades and soon there after “Not Without a Purpose” by Street Dogs picks up, and the SHOOT Video screen comes alive with the image of the Irish flag waving, with clips of Michael and Rowland getting into bar fights spliced in between the motion graphic.  Michael Collins comes out from the back, fists already clenched as he walks quickly towards the ring.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent, weighing in tonight at 230 pounds… here is The Devil From Dublin… MICHAEL COLLINS!!!

Collins only picks up the pace now as he suddenly dives into the ring.  Sepulcher reacts to this and charges, stomping down on Collins quickly, but Collins fights through, rising up to his feet and starts swinging lefts and rights at Sepulcher!

Dave Dymond: These two had quite the war of words this week, trying to demean each other based on their background and looks.

Other Guy: It’s an otherworldly fight, Dave. leprechaun versus vampire… gotta love that.

Dave Dymond: Collins obviously not fond of Sepulcher at all though, so as much as we might have enjoyed their verbal battle, the physical one is something all together different!

Sepulcher sways a bit from each punch that connects with his chest and face, but he snaps right back now, DRILLING Collins with a standing clothesline! Collins hits the mat hard and Sepulcher follows up with a standing elbow drop, but Collins rolls out of the way and is right back up.  Sepulcher up as well only to get KICKED in the side of the leg.  Again Sepulcher sways, but not by much as he manages to keep his feet planted.  Collins hits the ropes to give himself some added momentum, but Sepulcher snaps back again, this time thrusting out his arm and catching Collins around the neck with one hand.  Collins struggles only for Sepulcher to wrap BOTH hands around his neck, turn, and LAUNCH him back first into the corner!

Other Guy: That’s hard strength to match, Dave, Collins could be in for it.

Collins staggers out of the corner, clutching at his back and Sepulcher right there to scoop him up, hold him for a moment, and then fall forward with a body slam right into a pin. Referee Tony Lorenzo makes the count…

ONE!

TWO!

Dave Dymond: Collins manages to shoulder out, but that weight crashing down on you like that CANNOT do the bones in the back any justice.

Other Guy: Ya can see it in Sepulcher’s eyes that Michael Collins really got to him this week.  Thing is, not sure Collins intended on motivating the big man, but kinda looks like he did just that.

Dave Dymond: Little bit of a backfire as this one has been ALL Sepulcher pretty much and A SECOND forward falling body slam!

Sepulcher rises to his feet as Collins rolls on the mat in pain.  Sepulcher flashes a smirk for a moment, but then goes back to an emotionless and focused expression.  He pulls Collins up off the mat and whips him into the ropes.  Collins comes bouncing back and Sepulcher lifts him UP, and AGAIN takes him down back first, this time with a sidewalk slam.  Sepulcher stays on top of Collins, and now hooks the leg again for another pin attempt.

ONE!

TWO!

THR…

Collins kicks out just before the three count can be made.  Sepulcher appears slightly frustrated by this, but gets up just the same, now taunting Collins who once again clutches at his back.

Dave Dymond: Thing about this match up is that later tonight Killian Reilly will be in action, so you know right now he’s watching on as this Irish rivalry that has built between himself in Collins, will eventually spill out into that very ring.

Other Guy: Yeah and tonight’s all about who’s got the momentum.  A win here for Collins forces Reilly to step it up more later tonight, and a loss… well that puts Reilly in position to get the one up by winning later.

Dave Dymond: Though right now a loss is looking more probable for Collins as he just CAN’T seem to get in a lick of offense.

Sepulcher has Collins up on his feet again and now this time lands a few square blows across the back, keeping Collins doubled over.  Sepulcher than backs away a bit, taking huge steps all the while looking at Collins.  The fans start to buzz, wondering just what Sepulcher is planning. And then all at once the big man picks up with a dead sprint, CHARGING at Collins.

He kicks his leg up for a Bicycle kick… but Collins shifts to the side, and with Sepulcher off balance Collins spins around and just NAILS Sepulcher with a kick to the back of the leg!  Sepulcher sprawls out forward, landing somewhat awkwardly on his left knee, and Collins now charges at the ropes in front of Sepulcher, bounces off, and RUNS right into Sepulcher with a closed fist to the face!  Sepulcher’s head snaps back and he falls into a sitting position and Collins turns right back around and starts clobbering Sepulcher with alternating cross face strikes!

Other Guy: Guess ya spoke a bit too soon Dave cause Collins just found himself a hole in Sepulcher’s dominating offense!

Some of the fans pick up a bit, cheering on the intensity that Collins shows as he works on his continued assault of Sepulcher.  Sepulcher starts to try to get up, but Collins again with a kick to the back of the legs, trying to keep Sepulcher grounded.  Sepulcher wobbles, turns to face Collins, and COLLINS STRIKES WITH A RIGHT HOOK!!

SEPULCHER IS DOWN!

Dave Dymond: What a punch from Collins… and was that the knock out shot he needed?

Collins falls on top of Sepulcher for the cover.

ONE!

KICK OUT!

Other Guy: The HELL!

The fans buzz with shock as Collins is shoved violently off to the side by Sepulcher! Sepulcher then starts to get up, rubbing his jaw in pain, but only showing anger in his eyes. Collins is up to his feet quickly, and just as Sepulcher is up, Collins fires with a HUGE uppercut! Spit flies from Sepulcher’s mouth as he staggers back a great deal.  Collins keeps on the offense, landing smaller flurry punches to the sternum, before landing ANOTHER solid shot straight to the face!  Sepulcher staggers back even more, right up against the ropes.  Collins right there now and he takes one of Sepulcher’s arms and wraps it up into the ropes, despite the referee’s shouted warning to pull it back away from the ropes.

Dave Dymond: Collins now has Sepulcher trapped by one arm in that rope, and now he’s looking to do the same to the other rope.

Other Guy: Gotta respect Michael Collins for his “by any means” mentality, not a lot of people like him for it… but the guy’s just trying to earn his paycheck, and a winner’s one is better than a loser’s one.

Sepulcher fights against Collins with his legs as he tries to keep him from wrapping up his second arm.  Collins fights on though, and referee Tony Lorenzo warns Collins again, threatening to disqualify him.  Sepulcher hits Collins with a hard kick, but Collins gets the other arm wrapped up before being knocked back.  Sepulcher starts trying to untwist the ropes from around his arms, and as he does that Collins gets back with it and starts landing alternating left and right hands into Sepulcher!

Dave Dymond: And Michael Collins treating Sepulcher like a punching bag for his own personal work out!

Sepulcher’s head repeatedly snaps back as Collins works punch after punch into his face, and finally Lorenzo starts the five count, which forces Collins to pull back, the damage maybe already done though.  Collins backs away, fists remaining clenched the whole time as Sepulcher and the referee both work on getting Sepulcher free.  The second his arms are untwisted up in the ropes, Collins chooses to charge full force, but Sepulcher gets right back into it, lifting Collins HIGH UP and then letting him fall neck first onto the top rope!

Collins bounces off the top rope, clutching at his neck, and Sepulcher picks him up from behind and just drops him with a back body drop! Collins arches his back up in pain. And Sepulcher sits up now, then stands up, and just looks at Collins, calling for an end to the match.

Other Guy: Looks like Sepulcher has had enough and is gonna put Collins out for good this time.

Dave Dymond: The little punching bag stint only angered the 300 pounder that much more, and Collins COULD pay dearly for it.

Sepulcher stalks over Collins now and as Collins struggles to his feet Sepulcher is right there, looking to lift him up into a tombstone piledriver position.  He lifts Collins up, but just as he does so, Collins NAILS Sepulcher right in the face with a knee!

Sepulcher sways and Collins hits a second knee, and Sepulcher sways even more, losing his hold on Collins. Collins falls to the mat, managing to stay on his feet for the most part… and Sepulcher goes to capitalize, BIG BOOT… duck under by Collins…

AND A ROLL UP!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

The referee calls for the bell and Michael Collins gets up to his feet quickly, and Sepulcher sits up as well, frustrated that Collins scored the pin!

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match… MICHAEL COLLINS!!!

“Not Without a Purpose” plays for the second time tonight, as Collins exits the ring, shaking his head a bit, but smiling to have picked up the victory.

Other Guy: Collins played it smart, Dave.  He knew there was not a chance he was gonna be able to get Sepulcher up for the Irish Car Bomb, so he took the opportunity that presented itself.

Dave Dymond: Seemingly ALWAYS the opportunist is Michael Collins, and like you said the victory tonight is proof of that.

Sepulcher rises up to his feet, looking on at Collins with anger, eyes narrowed, lips curled.  Collins, however, never looks back as he vanishes behind the back curtain, leaving Sepulcher in the ring, aggravated with his loss.  From there, Revolution continues, leaving the ring area all together.

Jason Johnson looked tired as he walked through the hall backstage. Running SHOOT Project could be like being in charge of a mental institution at times, and lately things had been extra stressful. It seemed like the entire roster was at each other’s throats, which was great for business but hard to manage. He had a major Pay Per View to prepare for, contracts to finalize, and…

Just as Jason turned the corner towards his office, he was confronted by none other than 21 year old Jake Carver, nephew of Diamond Del Carver. Jake Carver was a rookie wrestler known as “Crash Carver” who had wrestled all of one match in SHOOT Project, but Jason knew why Jake was here, and what he wanted…and Jason didn’t want to hear it.

Crash Carver: Mr. Johnson!

Jason: Hello Jake.

Crash Carver: Give him to me, Mr. Johnson. I’m begging you. I don’t want his damn belt; I don’t care about his title. All I want is to get my hands on him.

Jason: No, Jake. You don’t have a contract with SHOOT Project, and I’m not giving you one, especially so you can end up in the hospital in a bed next to your uncle. Besides, Corazon is suspended.

Crash Carver: Please, Jason. PLEASE. I’m begging you. Give me a match with Corazon at the Pay Per View.

Jason: NO, Jake. Your mother and uncle would kill me if I booked that match, and I hate to say this…but let’s be honest. Your uncle is one of the toughest men I’ve ever known. He has wrestled for over 20 years, yet Corazon broke your uncle’s nose the first time they faced off. He made him pass out from paint he second time they met. The last time they met, he put him in the hospital and may have put him out of wrestling for life. What makes you think you would do any better?

Crash Carver: I have to, Jason. I have to avenge my uncle. I have to defend the Carver name. I have to show that son of a bitch that he can’t just walk all over my family.

Jason Johnson shook his head, and walked into his office, leaving Jake Carver standing in the hallway.

Jason: The answer is no, Jake. Go back to the hospital and sit with your uncle. That’s it, that’s all, and my answer is final.

Eryk Masters:   I’m here with Roland Caldwell, who later tonight will meet Trevor Worrens for the SHOOT Project World Championship.

Masters turns towards Roland, who walks into the shot.  He looks at Masters with disdain.

Eryk Masters:   Roland, do you have any final thoughts on tonight’s match?

Roland Caldwell:   Why are you interviewing me?  Where’s Abigail?

Eryk Masters:   Well, she’s on location.

Roland Caldwell:   Location?  She’s a backstage interviewer.  The only location she should be is backstage.  It’s in her goddamn job title!  What the hell is she on location for?

Eryk Masters:   I don’t know.  Something with Cade Sydal.

Roland Caldwell:   I’m already bored with this.  Instead of making Abigail uncomfortable I have to deal with you.  You’re just as bad as everyone else in this federation, Eryk.  Once, I flung you from a ladder.  I gave you The Fear, Eryk.  And then you moved on to this career.  Problem is, I still have to deal with you.  I disappear for a bunch of years, and here you are, a pain in my ass!  You’re like a cockroach!  I can’t even stand to look at you!

Roland begins to storm of but Masters calls after him.

Eryk Masters:   What about your match tonight?

Roland turns back and smiles coldly.

Roland Caldwell:   Tonight, I will show everyone what I can do.  I will show everyone what they’ve missed.  I’ll show everyone, what SHOOT Project should be!  Many people doubt that I can win.  That I’m able to win.  They think I’m not worthy of the title shot, but they’re overcome by their fear of me.  They say I’ve never held the World Championship, and they’re right.  But I’ve held belts before.  The Rising Sun title was mine.  The…

Roland breaks off and looks perplexed.  His mind searches for something, but…

Roland Caldwell:  I forget… I forget what other belts I…  It doesn’t matter!  Tonight I will teach everyone not to underestimate me.  Tonight I will defeat Trevor Worrens.  Tonight I will prove to him that he is the failure Vincent Mallows was.  And tonight I will show everyone, how dangerous I truly am.

Roland walks off.

We cut to the farmiliarity of the hallway at the Thomas and Mack center, adrift is the flase-looking light of flourescent tubes. We can see two farmiliar faces: The Amazing team of Art de Luca and Kilgore Stochansky. Art is clad in his regular "ADL" short tights and a black track jacket with pink stripes. Kilgore is in his usual shiny blue tracksuit, the hood pulled down to expose his wide smirk. De Luca himself is grinning and leaning up against the wall, and he’s clutching something to his chest: His gift, the "K E N S H I N" folding chair. We can also hear a faint clanging sound, and we can see that Kilgore has his knuckledusters on and is tapping them against the concrete of the wall. Kilgore shakes his head and looks at Art.

Kilgore: Ooh, I’m actually a bit anxious, Art. Yourself?

De Luca shakes his head and scratches his chin, setting the chair down.

Art: Eh, not so much. I’m more or less looking to put my foot in their asses for disrespecting US. Honestly… us. Look at us, the two BEST LOOKING guys on the roster by far. And nicest, I’d say.

Stochansky nods and chuckles a bit.

Kilgore: Nicest, and most honorable and fan-loved. See, I’m all for populist rule…especially since we rule, right?

De Luca picks up the folding chair again and points to it.

Art: Very true. So, are we taking these lovelys to the ring to hand to Mr. Kenshin HIMSELF? Afterall, they WERE gifts to him..

He looks to Kilgore, who looks up to the celing and shakes his head.

Kilgore: We may not have time, Art. But I’m cool with that…after we defeat them, which incidentally will probably be hailed as the greatest victory since the Cold War ended, I’m fine with soothing Jun’s hurt pride with a very gracious gifting.

He breaks into a grin and looks at De Luca, who throws it right back at him. Art starts tapping his fingers on the chair, almost excitedly.

Art: Good. Then I’ll do my best to end it soon, because I’m anxiously awaiting his face after we present him with two of the best, and most heart-felt gifts that he’ll be seeing THIS year.

He stands up independent of the wall and taps the chair on the floor. Kilgore himself stands, and we can see very plainly that he slips the brass knuckles into his tights. He pats Art on the shoulder reassuringly and smiles, looking straight at the camera, something dark in his eyes.

Kilgore: Oh, of course. I mean, I’d like to make it last, to give the fans something to see as hey swell with anticipation, but priorities are priotrities. Looks like we’ll have to be cutting this one short, folks at home…I apologize, but I’ll make it up to you when I snatch OUR title back from Benji. And I’m sure my associate here will make it up to you with a rousing defeat over Jun Kenshin in the future…so consider this a taste, ladies and gentlemen. A Taste of glory to come.

Stochansky and De Luca give each other the "respect knuckles", and then they start to walk forward. Just before they go past the camera’s view, Kilgore leans down and taps the lens. His following statement is so dripping with sarcasm that even the most stoic of men would be peeved at it…

Kilgore: Oh, and you two fellas? Good luck out there. Seriously. Break a leg!

We can hear both men laughing off-camera as we cut away…

Samantha Coil: The next contest is a tag team contest scheduled for one fall and is scheduled for a thirty minute time limit!

The Undeniable!

A mixed in version of “Undeniable” and “Misfit Love” hits the sound system as out steps foot the Pacific Connection. The mix is still relatively rough however the crowd is very much into it as they greet them with raucous applause!

Samantha Coil: Introducing first… at a combined weight of 375 pounds… They are “The Undeniable” JUN KENSHIN and The Law of Survival Champion BENJAMIN BIGGS… THE PACIFIC CONNECTION!

Biggs has the Law of Survival Championship around his waist and walks with just a slight limp. Kenshin brings up the rear and has a black hooded vest with green trim that has “Pacific Connection” imprinted on the back.

Dave Dymond: Here comes one hell of a team, OG. You got the Law of Survival Champion and one of the most time tested veterans on the roster.

Other Guy: They make up a good team alright considering Kenshin assisted Biggs at Uprising for him to win that belt he’s got right now.

Dave Dymond: It’s certainly a sore subject for Benjamin Biggs.

Other Guy: Not to mention Biggs went to a time limit draw against the number one contender to his title in Kilgore Stochanksy.

Dave Dymond: Now we saw Kenshin pick up a pin fall victory over De Luca last week.

Other Guy: Yeah but Kenshin was bleeding like a stuck pig. I’d rather be the loser if I had to look like that!

Kenshin and Biggs slap hands on their own sides. Biggs dives in head first while Kenshin does his traditional wiping of the feet on the apron before coming in. Their music cuts off.

Samantha Coil: Weighing at a combined weight of 442 pounds… they are the team of KILGORE STOCHANKSY and The Indie Superstar ART de LUCA!

"Method To Madness" plays over the speakers as out steps Stochansky and De Luca.

Dave Dymond: This team may be teaming up for the first time but they certainly seem to get along in their promotional appearances.

The duo wastes no time getting in the ring and immediately pair off with their rivals to do some trash talk. Stochansky makes the belt motion at Biggs while De Luca mockingly rubs his forehead indicating the wound on Kenshin’s forehead.

Other Guy: Let’s see if that helps them out when they get in that ring.

Dave Dymond: Kilgore Stochansky has run roughshod over the competition until running into Benjamin Biggs.

Other Guy: In my opinion, Stochansky was robbed. A time limit draw? Please!

Dave Dymond: I got to wonder what’s going through Art De Luca’s head right now. He’s talked an awful lot of trash talk towards Kenshin.

Other Guy: Time for talking is done tho.

“Method to Madness” cuts off. We go to the center of the ring as both teams have made their way to the ring. The tension is thick in the air as both teams are just itching to get at each other.

Dave Dymond: Willie Dean has his work cut out for him today.

Other Guy: There’s been a lot of emphasis on the referees lately. Last week, we had two controversial decisions, I’d hate for another one to happen.

The fans are clapping, shouting and stomping their feet in anticipation and we see that Stochansky and Kenshin are the legal participants for their team. Stochansky and Kenshin tie up, Stochansky quickly transitions to a side head lock and Kenshin pushes him onto the ropes. Kenshin drops down and Stochansky hurdles over Kenshin. Kenshin gets up and places his arm underneath the arm pit of Stochansky and executing a hip toss. Kenshin drops an elbow but Stochansky easily dodges out of the way. Kenshin grabs his arm in discomfort when Stochansky gets up and pops Kenshin in the jaw with a right straight followed by a left cross stunning the San Diego native. Stochansky drops his head and bulls Kenshin into the corner as Kenshin desperately tries to fight out of the wrong part of the ring. De Luca innocently holds his hands into the air to signal that he is playing by the rules. Stochansky rams his shoulder onto the stomach of Kenshin driving the air out of the stomach of Kenshin.

Dave Dymond: Looks like Stochansky is trying to isolate Kenshin here.

Other Guy: Kenshin knows that though. He’s gonna try to escape.

Stochansky hoists Kenshin up and down with a scoop slam. Stochansky with a tag to De Luca now as De Luca measures Kenshin with a knee to the forehead that was busted open just last week. De Luca grinds the point of his elbow to try to open up that cut but Kenshin squirms out of the way. De Luca now gets Kenshin up and chops him in the chest and Kenshin returns with a blistering chop that actually knocks De Luca on his butt! The crowd loudly goes “Wooo!”. Stochansky fakes like he is going to come in and that gets the referee’s attention and De Luca uses that to rake the face of Kenshin. De Luca does a drop toe hold and grapevines the leg. De Luca reaches out with his right arm to tag Stochanksy.

Dave Dymond: Kenshin is in trouble here.

Other Guy: Nice back and forth tags by Stochansky and De Luca. Give these guys some credit, Dymond.

Dave Dymond: No doubt these two have tremendous talent but their personalities rub a lot people the wrong way.

Stochansky measures and drives all 250 pounds with a body splash onto the back of Kenshin. Stochansky quickly turns Kenshin around for a cover.

One!

Kenshin angrily kicks out and Stochansky now whips Kenshin onto the neutral corner. Stochansky rushes but Kenshin gets a boot up. Stochansky is stunned and Kenshin now hops onto the 2nd turnbuckle and does a flying back elbow smash knocking the Jersey native down. Kenshin crawls to his corner and tags in Benjamin Biggs! Biggs rolls in and immediately dropkicks Stochansky and a dropkick for De Luca! Biggs is rocking and rolling as he hits the ropes and does a flying body press onto Stochansky! The ref counts.

One!

Two!

Dave Dymond: Benjamin Biggs gets the tag and this match just kicked into overdrive!

Other Guy: Looks like that bad leg of Biggs is just fine.

De Luca looks like he’s about to stir but Kenshin runs on the neutral apron and executes a 619 on the back of De Luca preventing him to come in! The fans pop as Biggs roots Kenshin on. Stochansky uses that to throw the distracted Biggs over the ropes though and onto the floor. De Luca and Biggs are now close to another and both are stunned. Stochansky runs the ropes and he looks like he’s feeling froggy but he gets blindsided with a Yakuza kick by Kenshin! Kenshin now goes to the top rope as he sling shots up and over nailing De Luca!

Dave Dymond: The ref needs to get control of this thing.

Other Guy: Whose legal?

Biggs and Stochansky are the legal men to answer OG’s question. Biggs rolls in and gets a boot to the head by the Jersey native. Stochansky immediately grabs the leg and does a twist and another twist! Spinning toe hold by Stochansky! Over and over… Kilgore torques the leg in unnatural motions and Biggs yells in pain. Stochansky with ruthless stomps to the leg as the mustached warrior’s face is etched in determination. De Luca makes his way to his corner and Kenshin does the same. Kenshin tries to get a “rally” going for Biggs and the fans respond with clapping, shouting and stomping. Kilgore now grabs Biggs leg and places it straight in the air only for Stochansky to take a step forward and applying a single leg crab. Biggs clutches his head in agony and he tries to reach out to Kenshin. Biggs is inching his way to his corner and Stochanksy is furiously shaking his head like “NO!NO!” De Luca illegally comes in and does a high knee onto the outstretched Kenshin knocking him onto the floor!

Dave Dymond: That damn Art De Luca sneak attacked Kenshin again!

Other Guy: Stop hatin Dave and join the Art club already.

Dave Dymond: You know Stochansky targeted that knee with that heinous attack last week.

Other Guy: What was REALLY heinous was how Kilgore got ROBBED of the Law of Survival Championship.

De Luca looks pleased with himself. He saunters back to his corner and mockingly holds the tag rope for all to see like ‘hey, look’. Kilgore uses the distraction to get Biggs back in the center of the ring. The Jersey native now looks to apply the figure four leg lock as he has the leg locked in, he does the spin but Biggs rolls him up!

One!

Two!

Stochansky escapes and angrily stomps the leg of Biggs. Stochansky gets Biggs up and whips him to the ropes but Biggs collapses in mid move, his leg gives way to the unrelenting offense of Stochansky. Stochansky tags in De Luca who immediately goes to the top rope, Art flies off in a moonsault but finds that the only thing waiting for him is mat. Biggs crawls to his corner and Kenshin REACHES out as much as he can. Biggs tags in!

Dave Dymond: Jun Kenshin is tagged in!

Other Guy: So what?

Kenshin tags in and De Luca immediately holds his hands up to cower. Kenshin rushes in with a tackle and wild punches are immediately thrown to De Luca. The Indie Superstar immediately tries to cover the blows. Kenshin gets up now and waits for De Luca to get up. Kick to the gut of De Luca doubles him over, Kenshin grabs a leg of De Luca and does a fisherman buster! De Luca lands on the back of his head! Kenshin stomps his right foot as he is measuring De Luca. De Luca stumbles up and with his back to him, De Luca gets slapped by Stochansky. Kenshin connects with a beautiful left high kick KO’ing De Luca! Stochansky sneaks in as he is right behind Kenshin! STIFF as HELL lariat that actually turns Kenshin inside out! The crowd groans in sympathy from the brutal lariat!

Dave Dymond: Kenshin just got obliterated by Stochansky.

Other Guy: Strong Arm Tactics, baby!

Stochansky grabs Kenshin and points at Biggs like ‘watch this’. Stochansky gets Kenshin up and hoists him up in a vertical suplex. Stochansky easily has Kenshin in a precarious position with Kenshin perfectly 90 degrees with his head pointing to the mat as all the blood is rushing to his brain. Stochansky kicks his legs out from underneath to deliver a picture perfect delayed vertical suplex! Stochansky however doesn’t go for the cover, instead he opts to drag Kenshin’s body toward Biggs so his partner can watch the carnage first hand. Stochansky with a nice right straight, left cross combination knocks Kenshin down in the corner. Stochansky pats his right leg now as he hits the far side of ropes to get some steam going. Stochansky delivers a BRUTAL running boot to the downed Kenshin. Stochansky smirks at Biggs and Biggs face looks murderous! He is desperately trying to get the stunned Kenshin out of the dazed stupor he is in right now. Kenshin is down on the mat. Stochansky tags De Luca now. Stochansky has Kenshin in a bear hug position and De Luca hits the ropes as fast as he can and does a flying clothesline reminiscent of the Hart Foundation! De Luca tags back Stochansky now. Stochansky measures Kenshin with a kick to the ribs that was more to ‘rub it in’ than do damage.

Dave Dymond: Kilgore Stochanksy is looking damn impressive in there! De Luca too!

Other Guy: Did you notice where all this brutality is happening, Dymond? Right where Biggs can see but far enough where he can’t tag in.

Dave Dymond: Stochansky wants Biggs to watch the destruction of his friend. How sick and twisted!

Other Guy: I love it. Where are their damn jokes now?

Stochansky grabs an arm and drags the barely conscious Kenshin to his corner. De Luca looks like a caged beast as he tags in. De Luca now has a cocky swagger about him bobbing and weaving. He measures Kenshin and stomps him several times. De Luca gets a running start to go for a kick to the ribs but Kenshin gets his head turned and slaps on an Iron Claw to the nether regions of De Luca! De Luca hops up and down comically and he has a look of PURE agony on his face! The crowd is laughing at the misfortunes of the brash Bronx native and the ref is furiously waving his arms trying to get Kenshin to break the hold!

Dave Dymond: Testicular claw!

Other Guy: No! He can’t do that!

Dave Dymond: Oh yes, he can!

Kenshin crawls over with the claw still attached to the little De Luca’s. Kenshin tags Biggs in who, while not quite high flying, he delivers a thunderous Sumo style slap knocking De Luca down! Biggs is seemingly possessed now when he slaps Stochansky in the chest knocking him down too! De Luca is on one knee now and Biggs runs in with a Jake Roberts style knee lift stunning him. Biggs hits the ropes and does a Snuka style double hand chop! The chest of De Luca is a blistering red from all the chopping and slapping. Biggs grabs a hold of De Luca and throws him between the middle ropes and using him like a battering ram onto his own partner. Biggs points at his two opponents and angrily slaps his bad leg to try to get the blood flowing. Biggs flies off the middle ropes using them to propel himself with an springboard cross body block and TAKES BOTH GUYS OUT!

Other Guy: Biggs did that with one good leg! Incredible!

Dave Dymond: But at what cost though?

Other Guy: Biggs may not care. The emotion of this crowd is driving him right now but adrenaline can only take you so far.

Biggs is clutching leg and rolls away in pain as Kenshin now goes to the top rope but the ref pulls him away and barks at him to get back to his corner. This gets HUGE boos from the crowd! Willie Dean sticks his head out between the middle ropes and orders De Luca and Biggs back in. Kenshin shrugs his shoulders like ‘what the hell’ and throws his body up and over the ropes hurdling over the referee! The crowd goes CRAZY and chants “Holy Shit!” over and over.

Other Guy: Disqualify him ref!

Kenshin helps Biggs to get back in the ring. Kenshin also helps De Luca to get back in but not before chopping his chest to further brighten up the pasty grappler’s chest! Biggs and De Luca square off now as both are guys are the worse to wear. De Luca with a punch that gets blocked by Biggs and the Law of Survival Champion again slaps the chest. De Luca curses loudly and gets whipped to the ropes, Biggs charges in but De Luca uses his raw athleticism to jump over Biggs and De Luca is now on the apron and yanks Biggs down with a pull of the hair. De Luca hops onto the middle rope and executes a Lion Sault! De Luca covers!

One!

Two!

Kickout by Biggs.

Dave Dymond: Biggs isn’t the same wrestler with a bad leg.

Other Guy: Yeah but what about Art De Luca. His chest looks like a raw steak that was left all day to rot!

De Luca grabs Biggs by the hair and pulls him to the corner. De Luca tags in Stochansky. Stochanksy and De Luca use the 5 second count to their advantage when they grab Biggs for a double suplex but instead of dropping him on his back, they carelessly throw him chest first onto the top rope! Stochansky eyes the bad leg of Biggs like a lion eyeing a wounded gazelle. Stochansky knows Biggs is wounded and begs for him to get up so he can deliver the killing blow. Kenshin is furiously shouting encouragement at his partner whose eyes look glazed over. Biggs gets up and Stochansky grabs his wrist and pops the hips for a Wrist Clutch Exploder!

Other Guy: Dead Bent!

Stochansky covers!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–!

NO!

Dave Dymond: HOW in the world did Benjamin Biggs kick out of THAT?

Other Guy: Biggs is double tough, Dymond but that just made Kilgore madder!

Stochansky is really getting heated up as he motions for Biggs to get up like a cobra poised to strike! Biggs drunkenly gets up. Stochansky grabs Biggs for another Dead Bent….

Biggs blocks it and head butts Stochansky. Stochansky runs in and Biggs does a crucifix and then flails his arms for a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Stochansky was caught off guard by it. Biggs hits the ropes and gets a forearm to the chin turning him around. Stochansky has his arms locked and utilizes the Tiger Suplex! None Shall Pass!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Samantha Coil: Your winners of the match…..

There is some confusion to the winner though. Willie Dean whispers into the ear of Samantha Coil.

Samantha Coil: Your winners of the match at 22 minutes and 19 seconds KILGORE STOCHANSKY and ART DE LUCA!

The fans loudly boo the decision! An instant replay shows that the bridging suplex of Stochansky and clearly shows that Biggs shoulders were down on the mat. Another shot of the suplex is shown from a reverse angle with a slightly better view. Repeated shots of the pin fall are shown. Kenshin argues with the referee about the finish.

Dave Dymond: What a controversial way to end this match, OG!

Other Guy: Nothin controversial in my view. Stochansky had him pinned. Uno, dos, tres!

Dave Dymond: I thought Biggs had his shoulders up at the last second.

Other Guy: Nah. Even a blind man could see that Kilgore got the win there.

Dave Dymond: I’m not sure about that.

Other Guy: I feel like the NFL with all this instant replay stuff. What’s next? Red flags?

Dave Dymond: It may not be a popular decision but I know all four guys still want to go at it!

Some order is restored and the two teams go into the locker room.

With his match still to come, Trevor Worrens finds himself walking down one of the halls within the Thomas and Mack Arena. It’s almost symbolic, as the closer his match is upon him, the closer he ends up towards the ring.  Lost in thoughts of his own, and thoughts planted by his encounter with Ray Willmott, Worrens just walks by with head lowered, his championship title resting on his shoulder.

Voice: You smug bastard!!!

Worrens stops and turns quickly, recognizing the voice immediately.

Trevor Worrens: Sato…

Kaz Sato: Don’t you even open your mouth, you ungrateful bastard. After that shit you pulled at last week’s show, I should cripple your ass right here and right now.

Worrens rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed with Sato’s presence.

Trevor Worrens: What I did last week?  You’re here because of what I did last week… what the hell did I do last week that COMPARES to you making me look like an idiot right in the middle of the ring?

Kaz Sato: you took away my title shot, Trev. You had that coming. And now, you’ve gone and given that shot to Roland. ROLAND!!! Now either you are trying to be a fighting champion. Or you are afraid to face me in the ring again.

<</strong>b>Trevor Worrens: I’m not afraid, Sato.  My challenge was issued because I’m done with you.  Like it or not, I had you do a job, and you couldn’t do it right. Then after that night, we had our match, and you didn’t win.  So the way it looks now, the way it looks to EVERYONE, Sato, is that I don’t owe you anything, but more importantly… you don’t deserve anything.

Worrens glares hard at Sato, the tension about to explode.

Kaz Sato: I seem to recall no one winning our match, Trev. But I do slightly remember you tapping a bit. You want to play these games Trev. Heh, fine…but if I was you…I wouldn’t worry about Roland or Ray. I’d worried about the bastard that you pissed off that has no problem with ruining every single plan that you have waiting to hatch.

Worrens forces a smirk, but his overall mood is not reflected by the slight smile.

Trevor Worrens: Go ahead, Sato. But while you’re making me worry about you.  Go ahead and start worrying yourself.

Worrens adjusts the positioning of the championship title on his shoulder.

Trevor Worrens: Start worrying about the fact that you’re not going to get the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship while its in my possession.

Sato’s eyes meet the glint of the gold on Worrens’s championship title.  But then he moves them right back up to Worrens’s eyes.

Kaz Sato: If that is the case. If I can no longer go after the World Title while it is in your hands, Trev. Then I guess I have no choice then to go after the next best thing.

Worrens just looks at Sato.

Trevor Worrens: Oh yeah? You scheming Sato? What exactly is the next best thing?

Sato gets real close to Worrens and lets a very evil smile creep across his face.

Kaz Sato: Starting this week, my focus is now your career. You get three tickets on easy street, Trev. First is used up tonight… the warning.  Second ticket, it gets physical. If you waste that third ticket, you waste your career.

Worrens doesn’t back down from Sato’s threats, though there is a slight look of concern on his face, but his smile remains.

Trevor Worrens: Talk… Sato. That’s what you’ve perfected and I’ll applaud that.  But you don’t get it, no matter how many analogies you spew out, no matter how many "receipts" you say you’re going to collect. It doesn’t change a thing.

Worrens’s smiles becomes more genuine now.

Trevor Worrens: I’ve got you on edge, Sato.  I’ve got you running around shouting "woe is me" in an angry voice.  Well woe IS you… until you actually step into that ring and prove otherwise.

Sato just grins in return, not backing away either as he raises three fingers.

Kaz Sato: You have three tickets. Trevor. Take it how you like. But you only have three.

Worrens, in a bold move grabs Sato’s hand and pushes one of his fingers down.

Trevor Worrens: Now I only have two, right?  I’m not afraid, Kaz. But go ahead and do what you have to do.

Kaz Sato: Don’t worry after tonight… I will.

Worrens pulls back from Sato now, and just shakes his head.  He then turns completely and continues down the hall, making his way closer and closer to the ring area.

The fans continue to go crazy as the tron changes images. There’s a buzzing sound that fills the air momentarily, then you see an image spread across the screen:

Eryk Masters: You’ve seen the videos circulating, ladies and gentlemen, it’s official… Chivalric WILL BE in action next week on Revolution!

Other Guy: Pretty big news, I remember hearing about the guy, and it’s definately going to be an interesting sight seeing HIM wrestle in a SHOOT Project ring.

The crowd is mixed with cheers and boos as we fade to our next match.

The SHOOT Project fans get out of their seats as “Blue Magic” by Jay-Z plays.  The fans boo mercilessly as out from the back emerges “The Foundation” Alexander Harmston, holding the SHOOT Project Revolution Championship high over his head.  Behind him emerges “The Cornerstone” Donovan King, wearing a pair of black slacks, black shoes, and a white and black striped shirt.

Dave Dymond:  Here we go.  Donovan King is the official who will determine who he’ll be facing next for the Revolution Championship!

Other Guy:  Can you believe it?  If Donovan counts Jester Smiles down for the count, Killian becomes the number one contender!

Dave Dymond:  Feasibly, that COULD render the announcement of Michael Collins versus Killian Reilly moot for Animosity this month and leave Jester without a pay-per-view pay day!

King and Harmston enter the ring as Harmston takes the microphone away from Samantha Coil.  He hands it to Donovan King and holds the Revolution Championship, still stained in Jester’s blood, high for all to see.  “Blue Magic” cuts off in time to let the fans at home hear what the fans in attendance think.

Donovan King:  Oh…ladies and gentlemen…

The fans boo him loudly.

Donovan King:  …The Cornerstone and The Foundation come before you tonight…humbled.

Dave Dymond:  What’s he on about?

Donovan King:  You see…two men are about to enter dis ring tonight…simply for the right to face me.  Donovan King.  The SHOOT Project Revolution Champion.  Now…as Samantha Coil is somewhat speechless by my very presence here tonight…

The camera shows Coil rolling her eyes since King and Harmston stole her microphone.

Donovan King:  …I’ll do the introductions.  Now…for all y’all at home, allow me to introduce myself!  I come in at a lean, mean, bitch nigga eatin’ 240 pounds!  I stand tall at 6 foot, 2 inches!  I handle my bidness and I’s the SHOOT Project REVOLUTION CHAMPION…look alive, bitches, because I’m yo’ official fo’ dis evenin’.  I.  AM.  DONOVAN.  MUTHA.  FUCKIN’.  KING!

The fans boo loudly as Harmston claps for his protégé.

Donovan King:  Dis man next ta me…he’s my one an’ only mentor…dat man dat makes shit work fo’ me…THE MUTHA FUCKIN’ FOUNDATION…ALEXANDER…HARMSTON!

Harmston bows as King claps for him.  Harmston leaves the ring with King’s title and proceeds to the commentator’s position.

Dave Dymond:  Is he…coming over here?

Harmston takes a seat, slapping hands with Other Guy.

Alex Harmston:  What’s going on, fellas?

Other Guy:  Chillin’, chillin’.

Dave Dymond:  Oh good God.

Donovan King:  NOW…introducin’ first…

“Salty Dog” by Flogging Molly plays as out from the back emerges Killian Reilly:, prompting cheers from the fans.  He glares at King as he takes a long drag off of his cigarette.

Donovan King:  …he’s doin’ that stereotypical Irish thang wit’ duh drinkin’ and duh fo’ leaf clovers…he hails from…uh…probably Ireland…an’ he currently stands at a record uh oh an’ one against yours truly…he is…Killian…REILLY!

Reilly slaps the hands of a few fans as he continues to walk down to the ring.  He continues to slap hands with the fans as he walks slowly to the ringside area.

Donovan King:  Look, nigga, dere ain’t enough time in duh show fo’ you ta slap hands wit’ every dumb ass in duh front row, get yo’ ass in here!

Reilly glares at King as he puts out his cigarette.  He rolls into the ring and stands in his corner, glaring at King.  King walks over to him, as Killian’s music cuts off.

Donovan King:  You got any weapons?  Actually, I don’t give a fuck.  Do what you gotta do ta win, bitch.  Not like it really matters, right?  And seriously…get dat gum…or fuckin’…get dat patch.  Smokin’s nasty.

Reilly flips King off as Three Dog Night’s “The Show Must Go On” plays loudly and proudly, bringing the fans to their feet with cheers.  Out from the back comes Jester Smiles, glaring directly at King.

Donovan King:  And next out…straight out the sideshow, Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J’s retarded cousin…he weighs in at about 2-sumpthin’…prolly close ta 250 wit’ all that gay ass shit he wears…he currently stands at a record uh oh an’ one an’ one against yours truly…he is…Jester…SMILES!

Dave Dymond:  So, Donovan King’s not counting the four way he lost and Jester won the Revolution title in on the inaugural edition of Revolution, I take it?

Alex Harmston:  Well, he wasn’t pinned, he didn’t submit, he beat Kaz Sato and Jester capitalized.  I taught him to respect that aspect of the match…but was he beaten?  He was the only other man standing tall at the end of that match.  To say Jester  “beat” Donovan King is a highly suspect statement.

Other Guy:  I actually completely agree with that assessment.

Dave Dymond:  Why doesn’t that surprise me?

Jester slides into the ring and glares at King as he walks over to the Clown.  Jester’s music cuts off.

Donovan King:  Listen up, muh fucka.  If I see any closed fists, any low blows, any muh fuckin’ bulge in yo’ tights, a muh fuckin’ grin on yo’ face, anything in yo’ hands, anything in yo’ hair…yo’ ass is fuckin’ done.  DQ.  Go home.  Enjoy Animosity from the cheap seats, nigga, yo time is done.  Understand me, bitch?

Jester glares at King hatefully as King backs off of him.

Donovan King:  Now, dis match goes until dere’s…you know, whatever I decide happens.  No real time limit, as I don’t give a fuck how long dese bitches beat one another up.  Dis is fo’ the right to face ME, so y’all need to focus on one another, and don’t fuck wit’ me, got it?

He looks at Reilly, who again flips him off for a pop from the fans, and then over to Jester, who merely glares at him.

Donovan King:  Fair enough.  Ring dat bell!

He throws the microphone down and the match is on!

Alex Harmston:  Now, I don’t need to mention that, while Donovan King pays the utmost respect to this business, I have to tell everyone at home that the competition for his Revolution Championship title scene is horrendous.

Other Guy:  Horrendous?

Reilly extends his hand for a handshake and King slaps it away before Jester can even consider taking it.  He orders them to keep it interesting!

Alex Harmston:  All due respect to Jester Smiles, as he and I are in that rare category of competitors capable enough of winning the Revolution Championship…but Donovan can’t keep beating Jester forever.

Dave Dymond:  How is that even a compliment?

Alex Harmston:  Look, I don’t doubt Jester’s capabilities.  I know Donovan King doesn’t.  The fact is, there’s always somebody better than you out there, all respect to OutKast.  Jester just found his better.  I’m sure he can win every belt King’s not after, he’s THAT good.

Jester and Reilly lock up and King pulls them apart, telling them to keep it interesting.  The fans boo as King points to his referee shirt as a reminder to the fans and, more importantly, the competitors in the match, that he is in charge of this match.  Reilly and Jester pace the ring, then, trying to figure out what they can do to one another.  Reilly goes for another lock up, and King gets in between the two of them, pointing and yelling at Reilly to “quit fuckin’ around and get ta fightin’”!

Dave Dymond:  Killian Reilly: isn’t going to stand for King’s constant involvement much longer!

Killian gets in King’s face and King begs him to hit him.  Reilly pulls back for a punch!  He goes for the punch, but King ducks!  Killian NAILS Jester!

Alex Harmston:  OUCH!

Other Guy:  That’s Killian’s problem!  Well intentioned, but stupid!

Jester coils back, clutching his jaw.  Killian tries to show compassion, but Jester NAILS him with a right open hand slap, knocking the taste out of Killian’s mouth!  Killian is staggered, while King clutches his mouth in mock empathy for the Irish brawler!  The fans let out a collective OOOOH as Jester grabs a hold of Killian and immediately picks Killian up for a side back breaker, possibly setting him up for the Side Splitter.  Killian crumbles to the mat and Jester covers him as King casually walks over and lays down on his back.  He stares at Jester for a long while as the fans start to boo loudly.

Dave Dymond:  King’s not even counting!

Alex Harmston:  I think he’s checking for any submission hold.

Other Guy:  Maybe Killian’s shoulder isn’t completely down.

Alex Harmston:  That sounds better.  I like that.

Jester picks Killian up, glaring at King.  King shrugs Jester’s glare off as Jester picks Killian up and nails another side back breaker, pressing down on Killian to try to get a submission.  King, meanwhile, leans against the ropes trying to catch a breather from the laying down he did to read the pinfall attempt from Jester.  Jester rolls Killian off of the knee and slings King around, telling him to get his ass in gear!  King points to his referee shirt and yells at Jester!  Suddenly, Killian Reilly: schoolboys Jester over into a roll up!  King drops down immediately!

ONE!TWO!TH—KICKOUT!!!

Dave Dymond:  Jester kicks out with authority after hearing how insanely fast King’s count was!

Alex Harmston:  King has impressive tendon strength in his arms, Dave.  It’s like that movie Rookie of the Year with that kid with the fast fastball.  Remember it?

Other Guy:  Own it on DVD.

Jester rolls away to get his bearings about him as Killian immediately sprawls over Jester and hits him with a few hard lefts.  He picks Jester up and whips him to the ropes, but Jester ducks the attempted clothesline from Killian, Jester hops up to the middle rope and throws himself back with a springboard back elbow smash to Killian’s face!  Jester immediately goes for another cover!  The fans boo as King drops to one knee and sighs, rolling his eyes.  He slaps the mat.

ONE.

King starts to rub his shoulder as the fans boo even more!  Jester immediately gets off of Killian and hooks him up in an armbar!  Killian lets loose a howl of sharp pain!

Dave Dymond:  There you go!  Jester’s in this match to win it!  He knows King won’t call it fairly, but there’s no argument in a submission!

Alex Harmston:  Well, there’s a fine line between waving your arm to find the bottom rope and waving your arm to quit.

Other Guy:  Sometimes, Dave, you wanna wave to your fans that you’re okay, too.

Alex Harmston:  Fair point.

Dave Dymond:  I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you two…and you’ve never even BEEN in a submission hold, OG!

Jester releases the hold and whips Killian to the ropes and catches Killian with a leg lariat!  Killian is dropped to the mat and Jester follows it up with a forward flipping leg drop onto Killian’s face!  Jester gets up and bounces off the ropes for a flying knee drop!  Jester rolls through that and snaps off a backwards elbow drop to Killian’s chest!  Jester immediately picks himself back up and nails a flying splash onto Killian, hooking Killian’s leg for the pinfall!  King is there!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

King stops, favoring his shoulder!

Alex Harmston:  I was worried King would strain his shoulder!  We might have another referee’s career shortened tonight by the dreaded shoulder strain!

Dave Dymond:  Oh, and it’d be heartbreaking for King to have to forfeit his title to give himself the chance to heal.

Other Guy:  Now you’re catching on!

Dave Dymond:  I was being sarcastic.

King continues to clutch his shoulder as Jester picks Killian up once again, only for Killian to hit Jester with a hard elbow shot to the face!  Jester is rocked and Killian begins to wail away at Jester’s head and midsection with jabs, peppering the former Revolution Champion!  Killian’s punches force Jester to the ring ropes, attempting to block Killian’s continuous punches!  Killian takes a step back and he NAILS Jester with a devastatingly painful right hook, dropping Jester to the mat!  He picks Jester up and whips him to the ropes and…Killian Reilly: locks Jester in an ABDOMINAL STRETCH?!

Dave Dymond:  KILLIAN LEARNED THE ABDOMINAL STRETCH!!!  KILLIAN REILLY: KNOWS A SUBMISSION HOLD!!

Other Guy:  Montreal!  Montreal!  Montreal!  King’s gonna count Jester as having submitted!!

Killian nails Jester’s ribs with some hard elbow and punches from his free hand and arm while King watches with amusement.  Suddenly, from out of the back, emerges Michael Collins, armed with a chair!

Dave Dymond:  That’s not Michael Collins!

Other Guy:  Is it?

Alex Harmston:  I don’t really pay attention to all these Irish people, so hell if I know.

King points at “Collins”, who is definitely not Michael, but his twin brother Rowland, and starts to yell at Collins to get out of the ringside area!

Dave Dymond:  That’s a sight you’ll never see again…Donovan King enforcing the rules!

Alex Harmston:  This stupid potato peeler is ruining our plans!

Other Guy:  You know wherever Rowland is, Michael’s not far behind!

Killian turns his head to see Rowland and Jester takes the chance to reverse the abdominal stretch into a hip toss!  Jester ascends to the top rope and turns to face the crowd!  Jester calls out for the fans to rally them, and they are erupting!  King, meanwhile, stops yelling at Rowland long enough to rush over to see if Killian is okay!  Jester looks back one final time…AND LEAPS OFF WITH A MOONSAULT!

Dave Dymond:  PICTURE PERFECT!

Jester FLIES through the air…RIGHT ONTO HIS FACE!  He clutches his mouth as the camera pans over to reveal King DRAGGED Killian out of the way of the moonsault!  The fans are booing loudly as Killian shoves King off of him, infuriated King is out to ruin this bout.  King and Killian begin to argue as Rowland jumps up onto the ring apron!  He starts to yell at the two of them and King shoves Killian out of the way to yell at Rowland some more who, at this point, has thrown the chair he brought with him into the ring.  King gets even madder at Rowland for doing so and ORDERS HIM FROM THE RINGSIDE AREA!

Dave Dymond:  Your pupil isn’t keeping this match together as well as I’m sure he wants.

Alex Harmston:  King’s trying his best.  Doesn’t have that whole focused anger thing down pat yet…but he’s working on it!

Killian gets up, BUT OUT OF THE STANDS COMES MICHAEL COLLINS!!  He slides into the ring and spins Killian around…AND NAILS KILLIAN WITH THE IRISH CAR BOMB ONTO THE CHAIR HIS BROTHER THREW IN!!!  The fans continue to boo as Michael slides right back out of the ring and back into the crowd!  King turns around to see both Killian and Jester down on the mat and is furious!  He snaps his head back to see Rowland waving at him, finally following orders!  King walks over to the chair and kicks it out of the ring, incensed that both Jester and Killian are down and he can’t prove anything!

Dave Dymond:  Those damn Collins boys have done it again!  Killian was one upped here and there’s not a damn thing King can do right now to prove it!

Other Guy:  Yep!  No instant replay rules here in this match!

Alex Harmston:  Damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it!

Jester starts to stir and he sees Killian out!  Jester picks himself up and crawls over to Killian and drapes an arm over him!  King glares down at Killian and then to Jester!  He shakes his head, insanely furious as he sprawls out to count the pin!

ONE!!!

Jester looks up at King, who is glaring back at him!

TWO!!!

King hesitates, continuing to glare at Jester while Jester yells at him.

Jester Smiles:  COUNT IT !!!

King shakes his head, his teeth gritted.

THREE.

The fans ERUPT as Jester Smiles picks himself up off of the mat, celebrating his win!  “The Show Must Go On” by Three Dog Nights plays as Harmston stands up, holding King’s Revolution Championship.

Alex Harmston:  CUT THAT MUSIC OFF!!

The fans boo as Jester’s theme is cut off.

Alex Harmston:  Donovan King may not have been able to see what sort of terrible travesty of justice was just perpetrated upon Killian Reilly:, but I did…and so did these fans!

The fans let out a mixed pop for Harmston’s words, though they know it won’t end well.

Alex Harmston:  Jester Smiles CLEARLY had the assistance of Michael and Rowland Collins, Donovan!

The fans take their cue and boo.

Alex Harmston:  While Rowland had you distracted, Michael Collins ran into the ring and took Killian down!  He tore him apart!  As far as I see it, Jester Smiles needs to be disqualified and Killian Reilly: declared the NEW Number One Contender to the Revolution Ch—

Reilly, by now, has a microphone, though still groggy.

Killian Reilly::  Shut the fuck up!

The fans pop big for Killian.

Killian Reilly::  I take my lumps when they’re given to me!  If Michael Collins, the dickless wonder that he is, wants to fuck me over and cost me my contendership to that title, then I don’t need this match restarted, I don’t need the decision reversed!  That sorry son of a bitch just gave me a brand new reason to fuck his world up!

The fans pop again.  Jester, meanwhile, takes a microphone for himself.  Harmston steps into the ring and gives Donovan King his microphone.

Donovan King:  Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!  Fuck dat, dem fuckin’ Collins boys fucked dis up fo’ me and fo’ Reilly!  I want dat muhfucker in a match!

The fans are actually starting to cheer for what they’re seeing.

Jester Smiles:  Easy there, killer.

King glares at Jester.

Jester Smiles:  You might not have liked what happened…

Jester looks at Killian.

Jester Smiles:  You didn’t like what happened…

He looks at the fans.

Jester Smiles:  And I definitely know the fans and me…we didn’t like what happened!

The fans pop big for Jester including them.

Jester Smiles:  You want a title shot, Killian?

Killian Reilly::  I wanna get my fucking hands on Donovan King about as much as you do.

Jester Smiles:  …and didn’t you want to fight Killian, Donny?

Donovan King:  ‘Ey, man…look…I don’t like where dis is goin’…

Jester Smiles:  Oh my God, I’ve got a brain storm.  Bare with me, here, I have to say this slowly so King’s fifth grade comprehension level can get this.

The fans laugh as King scowls.

Jester Smiles:  So…why doesn’t Donovan King put his money where his mouth is?  Why don’t you put that title up against Killian Reilly:…

The fans cheer.

Jester Smiles:  …Michael Collins…

The fans cheer even louder.

Jester Smiles:  …and Jester Smiles?

The fans ERUPT.

Donovan King:  Whoa, whoa, whoa!  You tryin’ too hard here, playa.  You sayin’ you want me to put my belt up against you…him…and that stupid ass who fucked my plans up tonight?

Jester smiles.

Donovan King:  Well…it’s just too bad I can’t do dat.

The fans boo LOUDLY.

Donovan King:  Look!  Michael Collins and Killian Reilly: already signed the contract for their match at dat pay-per-view!  It’s too bad dey went and did dat shit, though.

Killian Reilly::  That’s okay.

Donovan King:  It is?

Killian Reilly::  If the only thing stopping you from agreeing to this match is  because you don’t want to fuck my brawl with Collins at Animosity…we can just do it next week LIVE on Revolution!

The fans ERUPT in cheers as King backtracks.

Donovan King:  Look, I can’t…dat ain’t in my contract!  I defended my title!  I…

Killian Reilly::  …am a coward?

Jester Smiles:  …am a bitch?

Killian Reilly::  That, too.

Donovan King:  FINE, MOTHER FUCKERS.

Harmston slaps his face as King, once again, relents on a quick decision without thinking.

Donovan King:  Next week, the Revolution Championship will be ON DUH LINE…against Killian Reilly:…Michael Collins…and JESTER SMILES.

The fans pop big.

Donovan King:  …if you muhfuckas wanna fuck wit’ me, though…we gonna do it big.  Real big.

Jester and Killian glare at Donovan as he speaks.

Donovan King:  Y’all ain’t at my level, let’s face it.  If y’all were…Jester wouldn’t need Michael Collins ta give him the win tonight…Killian woulda shrugged off Collins…and Collins woulda stuck around and ended Killian’s career.  Y’all need ta rise to my level.  So next week…y’all can rise ta my level.  Rung…by damn rung…by damn rung!

Dave Dymond:  No way…is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting?

Donovan King:  We gon’ kick Animosity week off wit’ a muhfuckin’ bang when I defeat the three uh y’all muhfuckas in a LADDER MATCH!

The fans POP as Jester nods approvingly while Killian glares at King still.  “Blue Magic” by Jay-Z plays as King leaves the ring, confident and cocky.  He holds the Revolution Championship high over his head and points to Killian and Jester before he disappears to the back with Alex Harmston!

Dave Dymond:  No way!  I can’t believe Donovan King suggested that!

Other Guy:  He’s gotta be out to prove a point, Dave!

Dave Dymond:  He put himself at a SEVERE disadvantage, OG!  If he is preoccupied by fighting any one of those men, one of the other men can climb the ladder and become the new SHOOT Project Revolution Champion!

Jester cuts Killian a look before he leaves the ringside area.

Other Guy:  Jester and Killian basically talked King into putting his title up against all three of them!  King must think if he puts a hardcore element in, he can even the playing field up, as King is damn good when he needs to get rough!

Killian follows suit, leaving the ring.

Dave Dymond:  Regardless of his ideas going in…he was just outsmarted by Jester Smiles and Killian Reilly:!  Ladies and gentlemen…we MIGHT find ourselves dealing with a NEW Revolution Champion come next Sunday night at the Revolution before Animosity!

The shot opens up to a small black room, with "LIVE VIA SATELLITE" in the lower left corner. Abigail Chase sits across a small circular table from Cade Sydal, the latter opting not to have his grotesque wounds bandaged up as much of his forehead is still swollen and dark purple.

Abigal Chase: Thank you for allowing us to shoot this feed from your home, Cade. Tell us, how are you feeling after the brutal assault you endured at the hands of HantaKira and Ron Barker last week?

Cade Sydal: Before I answer your question, Abigail, let me just say that I should be thanking you. There are several things I need to address tonight, but I have been advised by several good friends of mine not to go to the Thomas and Mack Arena looking for trouble tonight.

The fans begin a mild booing at the suggestion. Cade pauses as his end of the feed picks up on it, and he nods.

Cade Sydal: Yeah, I know. Crazy, that my friends would look out for my health I mean. Friends like The Real Deal.

The fans pop big at the mention of the name.

Cade Sydal: Friends like OutKast.

The fans pop big yet again.

Cade Sydal: Hell, even someone I wouldn’t consider a huge friend of mine…not even sure you could ever call us friends again, Jun Kenshin. Even he told me that staying home is necessary tonight. And ya know, when a cat that you still have heat with tells you, in all sincerity, to sit the night out and think shit over, that kinda hits you hard. Or it does for me. Now, as for your question, Abigail, how am I feeling? That was the question, right?

Abigal Chase: Yes, you’re correct.

Cade nods his ehad slowly before lifting his left hand to point at his forehead.

Cade Sydal: How does it look like I’m feeling? I have stitches all over my fucking forehead. I have brusing and swelling all over my fucking forehead. Saying I feel like shit is a bit of an understatement. And I know, Abigail, you’re just doing your job, but allow me to assume you’re going to ask the tough questions, and not the cookie cutter, easy ones, will you? I’m going to assume you meant mentally and emotionally, rather than physically. So I’m going to answer THAT question…do you mind?

Abigal shakes her head slowly.

Cade Sydal: Good, see Abigail, if you wanna be more than a really hot body and a pretty face around here, you gotta ask the hard-hitting questions. That will get you noticed around here, and that is some friendly and free advice. Now as for how I’m feeling, I’m feeling pretty fucking pissed off. I’m feeling like I need to be at the Thomas and Mack Arena, and I need to fucking find Ron Barker, drag him out by his fucking ear, and crubstomp his fucking nuts. That’s how I feel, Abs.

The fans cheer at the suggestion, which brings a small smile to Cade’s face.

Abigal Chase: Alright, well…uh…

Abigal tosses a few note cards to the side.

Abigal Chase: You want hard questions?

Cade nods.

Abigal Chase: Are you still using drugs? We heard Ron Barker admit that he hired someone to plant the drugs in your locker room, so you are free on those charges, but are you still an addict?

Cade leans back in his small barstool-like chair and rubs his left hand over his chin.

Cade Sydal: I have not used drugs since my arrest in October of 2006. Now, that’s not a huge amount of time, but I did a stint in prison for the drugs, and was sent to mandatory rehab. But am I still an addict, Abigail? Part of me is. I wake up, feeling like shit, and I want that line so bad. But I make the conscience choice NOT to seek it out. And for that, I feel I’m a bit better than I was a year ago.

Abigal Chase: How does it feel being under a microscope? Knowing that what Jason Johnson said last week is true, that parents don’t want their kids buying your merchandise because they feel you’re a bad role model?

Cade sighs heavily and lowers his head.

Cade Sydal: You been holdin’ some questions in, haven’t ya, Abs? Alright, well, it kinda makes me feel like scum, bein’ looked at like that. Yeah, its true, I fucked up. I fucked up bad, and I own up to that shit. I haven’t made no excuses for that shit, getting involved with that was my choice and my choice alone. And parents are right, I wasn’t a good role model, and hell I might not be one now. But shouldn’t we, as parents, be teaching our kids that owning up to your mistakes is far more important than not making any mistakes at all? Shouldn’t we be sending the message that standing up and taking your consequences like an adult makes you a better person?

Fans start to cheer lightly at the suggestion, but Abigal Chase is quickly there with another question.

Abigal Chase: You mention being a parent, and I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t ask. How is your daughter?

The ‘smarter’ fans boo quickly at Abigail, and Cade pauses before answering. He holds a hand up toward the arena and the booing dies down.

Cade Sydal: Now now guys. She’s right, I asked for the hard questions. I wanted this. I’ll take my lumps like a man. To answer your question, I wouldn’t know. When I was incarcerated, my parents took over full custody of Erin Michelle. I, of course, have seen her when I was released into their household right before rejoining the SHOOT Project roster. But my mother has only given me minimal contact with her, and that tears me apart. How would you feel if you had a kid, and you were told you couldn’t see it? I think any parent out there can agree with me on the feeling of emptiness. And that’s why I’m fighting all the harder to prove that I am a good example of how an adult should act. I fucked up, and that’s why I can’t see her. But I am doing everything I can to prove I deserve that right. I love my daughter, and while I can’t say from my own account, I know she’s doing fine.

Abigal Chase: Alright, well, you mentioned earlier that you had several issues to address. Do you still have any?

The fans begin to cheer as Cade nods his head.

Cade Sydal: Yes, Abigail, I do. But first, thank you for being a real interviewer. A legitimate one. Thank you for that. I do, however, have one more major issue to deal with. Last week, Jason Johnson told Ron Barker that he has a date with destiny. He has to dance with Cade Sydal at Animosity, on November 25th. And he told Ron Barker that I, Cade Sydal, get to decide what kind of fucking match it’ll be.

The fans begin to cheer as the camera shifts, cutting Abigail Chase completely out of the picture, focusing on Cade’s battered face.

Cade Sydal: My first thought was about hurting Ron Barker. About making him suffer. So something where I couldn’t get disqualified was necessary.

The fans begin to cheer louder.

Cade Sydal: So I thought maybe we can tango in a cage.

The fans cheer loud.

Cade Sydal: Or we can fight all over the arena in a Falls Count Anywhere match.

The fans cheer louder.

Cade Sydal: Or, maybe we can do something I ain’t done in a long fucking time. Maybe we can do something that I became famous for against OutKast in some other company out in North Carolina.

The ‘smart’ fans explode, knowingly.

Cade Sydal: With a little No Disqualification twist. See, I want to hurt Ron Barker. I want to make him my bitch. And I want to do so in the match I put back on the map in professional wrestling. So Ron Barker, this is the part where you get your head out of Ainsley Lake’s ass. This is the part you listen. Ron Barker. Cade Sydal. No Disqualifications. 60 Minute Iron Man!

The ‘smart’ fans and the rest cheer loudly as Cade glares into the camera.

Cade Sydal: I’ll see you at Animosity, Barker. Bring your workin’ boots, ’cause it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ night. Abigail, thanks for comin’, but now I think it’s time you all bounce on outta my shithole apartment.

The shot fades out and goes back to Dave Dymond and Other Guy, the fans in attendance still cheering loudly at the HUGE announcement!

Other Guy: Are you kiddin’ me, Dave?! Cade Sydal and Ron Barker, beating the hell out of each other for a full hour?!

Dave Dymond: That’s huge news, OG! Cade Sydal, of course, nmore famous for a more technical approach in that, but right now he has blood and vengeance on his mind, for the aptly titled Pay-Per-View, Animosity! I can’t wait!

“Summer Overture- Remix” by Clint Mansell erupts over the sound system within the Thomas and Mack Arena, bringing all eyes to the entryway and a chorus of boos that seems to match the volume of the music.

Samantha Coil: Tonight’s Revolution main event is set for one fall and is for the SHOOT PROJECT WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!!!

Despite the excitement for a title match, the boos continue as Roland Caldwell storms out from the back.  The look on his face says it all… pure disgust and hatred for the crowd of people around him.

Dave Dymond: This is a huge moment for all of SHOOT Project, Other Guy.  The first World Heavyweight championship defense on a Revolution, and the contender is a man that has made it abundantly clear that he only wants the championship to keep anyone else from having it.

Other Guy: When it’s all said and done, Roland Caldwell might just have his way, Dave.  If he beats Worrens, we damn well might be warehouse bound.

Roland reaches the ring at this point and he slowly walks up the steel steps that lead into the ring.

Dave Dymond: Roland Caldwell, as much as I hate to say it, has been a man on a mission; a man on a TEAR, as of late when it comes to his sudden impact on the SHOOT Project as a whole.

Other Guy: No kiddin’.  Osbourne Kilminster was PRIME to be a top fighter here in SHOOT, and in one night Roland Caldwell changed all that.  It’s weird sayin’ it, but tonight I hope Trevor Worrens stops this man dead in his tracks.

Dave Dymond: It’s not going to be easy, especially with everything going on in the World Heavyweight Champion’s mind.  Willmott has shown he’s not done with Worrens, Sato has shown he’s not done with Worrens… so suddenly that clarity is as good as gone.

Other Guy: Let’s hope his drive to win then is all the focus he needs.

Roland paces about the ring, looking out at the crowd as his music fades… the only noise now filling the Thomas and Mack Arena are the boos and shouts of hatred from the crowd.  At that moment, the SHOOT Project video screen flickers on to reveal an art house montage of different video clips… all of Trevor Worrens from different angles.  At the same time “The Pursuit” by Evans Blue begins to play, and it doesn’t take long for Trevor Worrens to make his way out from the back, the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder.

Dave Dymond: He is quite possibly the most unexpected world champion the SHOOT Project has seen, but like Worrens himself says, that doesn’t take away from the fact that he IS our World Heavyweight Champion.

Worrens stands at the start of the ramp leading to the ring, and for a moment he just looks dead ahead at Roland.  Then, Worrens starts towards the ring, walking with a purpose.  Roland takes a few steps closer to the edge of the ring, but senior official Scott Kamura shouts for Roland to keep his distance. Roland backs up as Worrens pulls himself up onto the ring edge by the ropes.  He then takes the World Heavyweight Championship off his shoulder and raises it with one arm, letting it dangle vertically.  Roland’s eyes, however, do not leave Worrens’s.

Other Guy: The intensity already built here is nuts, Dave… and the match hasn’t even started.

Dave Dymond:So much at stake, the biggest prize in the SHOOT Project being placed on the line, and with it being just a few weeks away from our next Pay Per View, Animosity, this match up could effect what we see go down on November Twenty Eighth.

Other Guy: If Roland’s intending to do to Worrens what he did to Kilminster, then SHOOT Project could be down another soldier by night’s end… which I hope ain’t the case.

Worrens enters the ring now and hands off his championship title to Scott Kamura.  Kamura officially raises it high up overhead.

DING. DING. DING.

Samantha Coil: Now, introducing first at this time, the challenger.  He weighs in tonight at 289 pounds, ladies and gentlemen this is ROLAND CALDWELL!!!

The boos start up again, never having fully died to begin with.

Dave Dymond: In the eyes of the fans this match up is a matter of the lesser of two evils, though in comparison I don’t know if you could call Worrens evil.

Other Guy: Ya can’t, but he’s not exactly someone ya can rally behind either, Dave. But tonight, get me a Trevor Worrens t-shirt if he’s got em, cause I’m rooting on the champ.

Once the fans settle in a bit, Samantha Coil turns to Trevor Worrens.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent… weighing in tonight at 233 pounds… he is the current reigning SHOOT Project WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… this is TREVOR WORRENS!!!

Some of the fans cheer, more so out of their hatred for Roland, but Worrens doesn’t even care about them.  His eyes remain focused solely on Roland Caldwell.  The World Heavyweight Championship is then handed off to Samantha Coil who takes it out of the ring.  Senior official Scott Kamura then checks in with Roland, saying a few words then he quickly turns to Worrens and does the same.  With both men checked in and more than ready, Kamura calls for the bell.

Dave Dymond: And so it begins, the fate of the SHOOT Project hangs overhead tonight, and Roland WASTING NO TIME!

Worrens is NAILED and sent down onto his back via a hard clothesline from Roland.  Worrens gets himself up, but Roland right there, VICIOUS right fist!  Worrens falls again, rolls onto his stomach, but before he can push himself up onto the mat, Roland just STOMPS down square on Worrens’s back, pushing him flat onto the mat!  The fans boo as Roland then stomps again, this time right on the back of Worrens’s head and then turns, grinding the bottom of his boot into Worrens’s skull!

Other Guy: Not a good way for the champ to start this one out, as Roland has just immediately forced him down hard.

Dave Dymond: It all plays into the fact that Trevor Worrens, regardless of his status as champion, is very much a rookie to the world of professional wrestling.  Where as Roland Caldwell has years of experience and has taken countless hits.

Worrens stirs on the mat now, not getting up, and so Roland brings him up to his feet and whips him with violent intent into the upper left corner of the ring.  Worrens hits so hard, that he falls flat down onto the mat again, face smashing against the canvas.  Roland storms over towards Worrens lifts his arm and then DROPS down with an intended standing elbow drop, but Worrens moves out of the way, forcing Roland to hit nothing but mat.  Worrens gets up now, looking for his chance to turn the tables, but Roland up almost just as fast as Worrens and he nails Worrens with a hard elbow strike.  Worrens is sent reeling and Roland follows up with a fist, and then just a HUGE standing kick to the face!

The fans buzz with concern now as the opening minute of this match up has been DOMINATED by Roland.  Roland toys with Worrens for a moment, sending a hard kick into Worrens’s side.  Worrens rolls closer to the edge of the ring and now Roland takes a running start and just TOE PUNTS Worrens from the side again, and Worrens is sent spilling out of the ring!

Dave Dymond: I have a sinking feeling in my stomach right now as Roland Caldwell is showing no signs of losing control of this match up.

Other Guy: He’s not even gonna let this one end in a count out, Dave. He’s keeping right after Worrens.

Dave Dymond: Which doesn’t make me feel any better about the way this match up is going.

Despite Kamura’s shout to stay in the ring, Roland exits the ring and looms over Worrens who grabs at his side now, wincing in pain.  He turns now just as Roland lunges at him, and manages to nail Roland with a hard palm jab to the lower face.  Roland winces slightly but takes control right back, bringing a knee up into Worrens’s gut.  Worrens doubles over in pain and Roland CRUSHES him across the back with a hard double axe handle smash!  Worrens drops to one knee and Roland now backs away, sizing up the fallen champion.

The fans are on the edge of their seats as Roland looks to be targeting Worrens’s head, and soon Roland runs as fast as he can directly at Worrens.  Worrens however lunges upwards, and uses Roland’s forward momentum against him, bringing up his knee and Roland runs right into it!  Roland lets out a painful grunt as he doubles over, and now Worrens just grabs him and whips him as HARD as he can backwards, driving the back of Roland’s head down onto the floor!   Cheers echo from various parts in the arena as Worrens finally has gotten the upper hand.  Worrens rolls into the ring now, and referee Scott Kamura starts the outside of the ring knock out count.

ONE!

Roland already sits up, grabbing at the back of his head in pain, while Worrens paces back and forth, getting in a breather after being pummeled.

TWO!

Roland is all the way up now and realizes the ring out count is being made.  He moves towards the edge of the ring and rolls in, quickly breaking the count.  Kamura signals for the match to continue.  Worrens comes at Roland now, catching Roland SQUARE in the jaw with a knee strike before Roland can get up to his full vertical base!

Dave Dymond: That’s a potential knock out shot right there, and Worrens despite being shooken up, nailed it spot on!

The fans pop a bit, taken by surprise by the suddenness of the knee strike and Worrens immediately makes the cover.

Kamura makes the count…

ONE!

KICK OUT!

Other Guy: Guess it wasn’t a knock out shot at all, Dave.

Dave Dymond: The quickness of that kick out by Roland is just unsettling, Other Guy.  But then again as we’ve stated before, Roland Caldwell has been through hell inside the square circle, so his tolerance for pain has definitely risen over the years.

Worrens reacts quickly to the kick out, realizing he needs to stay on top of things he pushes his palms forcefully down on Roland’s chest, lifts both his legs up into the air, and then brings BOTH his knees down into Roland’s side.

Other Guy: Side for a side, eh Dave?

Dave Dymond: Something like that as now Worrens doing whatever he can to see to it Roland CANNOT regain control of this match up.

Roland reels from the double knees to the side and Worrens continues on the offense, trying to turn things around fully.  Worrens brings Roland up into a sitting position, and before Roland can again fight back, Worrens locks on a quick full nelson submission hold.  Roland immediately starts to flail his arms, trying to muscle out of the hold, but in return Worrens does whatever he can to keep the pressure placed square on the back of Roland’s neck.   Roland starts to stand up, so Worrens drills him with a knee to the back, keeping him in a seated position.  Roland winces in pain, his face turning slight red, but again he starts to get up, and this time violently whips his body around, which forces Worrens to lose his grip on the full nelson!

Keeping his balance though, Worrens charges at the ropes full speed, leaps up onto the second one and as Roland turns to face Worrens, Worrens FLIES at Roland with a clothesline, taking him down to the mat!

Dave Dymond: Simply known as the takedown, which is pretty much the only aerial move you’ll see from Trevor Worrens.

Other Guy: And it pays off big time… maybe a turning point if he can keep Roland down now, Dave.

Dave Dymond: Cover made, not sure it’ll be enough…

ONE!

TWO!

Powerful shoulder up by Roland.

Other Guy: Nope, not enough, and after seeing Roland inside the steel cage with Ray Willmott, I’m not sure what IS enough to put this guy down and out.

Worrens backs up from Roland, seeing that he’s getting to his feet.  Worrens readies himself now and as Roland turns Worrens NAILS him with a left knee strike to the right leg, then a right knee strike… NO!  Roland grabs the knee and in a tremendous display of his strength lifts Worrens up and DROPS him with a knee breaker!  Worrens falls to the mat, clutching at his knee now and Roland pulls Worrens right back up… bends the knee and LIFTS again!

A SECOND KNEE BREAKER!

Dave Dymond: Not sure if Roland is setting up for anything here, or if he’s just looking to take Worrens a part limb by limb.

Other Guy: Gonna go with the latter on that one, Dave.

Dave Dymond: Seems like it as now he’s got Worrens up again… a third knee breaker…

The fans watch in silence, but Worrens suddenly turns his body in mid-lift, hooks Roland around the neck and brings all his momentum down with an impromptu bulldog drop!

Dave Dymond: Countered with a desperation bulldog, but Worrens looks to be in pain!

Other Guy: He still landed on his knees, Dave, and Roland already did the damage to the right one.

Roland grabs at his face in pain, while Worrens inches away from Roland, rising to his feet, but clearly favoring his right leg. Worrens though feeling the adrenaline motions to Roland to get up, looking at him with frustration and pain.

Trevor Worrens: GET UP!

The taunt angers Roland who snaps his head upward to look at Worrens and then Roland gets up, shakes his head, and charges at Worrens.  Worrens meets him with a palm jab to the sternum, then a second palm jab to the face that sends Roland reeling, and Worrens then follows up with a STIFF clothesline to the back of Roland’s head… but Roland isn’t knocked off his feet!  Worrens is taken back by this, but then puts some space between Roland and himself.  Despite feeling the pain in his right leg, Worrens runs at Roland, only for Roland to snap around quicker than quick, scoop Worrens up and PLANT him with a snapping power slam!

Other Guy: Oh shit!

Dave Dymond: The leg immediately hooked and I hate to say it, but a very impressive power slam from Caldwell!

Kamura drops to the mat within a second and makes the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THR… shoulder up by Worrens.  Roland, from the pinning power slam position stands STRAIGHT up, holding Worrens and then executes a fall-away slam!  Worrens almost falls out of the ring again from the force of the toss by Roland.  Roland then rises up to his feet, almost snarling as he looks to Worrens.  Worrens struggles to get up, pulling on the ropes to rise to his feet, and that’s when Roland goes to take advantage, but in quick thinking, Worrens pulls down on the ropes, causing Roland to spill over and to the outside. 

Unknown to Worrens though, Roland lands on his feet, quickly turns just as Worrens gets up to his full vertical base, and grabs both of Worrens’s legs! Worrens is pulled so quickly that his face bounces off the mat as he falls, then Roland pulls him CLEAR out of the ring, letting him fall face first again, this time to the floor!

Other Guy: Damn… Roland is just MAN-HANDLING the World Heavyweight Champion.

Worrens clutches at his face now, and Kamura starts the double count out.

ONE!

Roland pulls Worrens up by the back of the head, holds him standing for a moment, and then just WHIPS him backwards into the steel guard railing!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

Worrens sits in a slump, nearly bent over in half completely and Roland looks at him, a sinister smirk forming on his face.  He pulls Worrens up to his feet, bends him slightly over the guard railing, and just DRIVES an elbow down directly into Worrens’s throat!

Dave Dymond: He could have just crushed Worrens’s windpipe!

Worrens starts to fall to the floor, back against the guard railing, but Roland lifts him right back up, and then hooks his arms around the railing to keep him somewhat standing.

SEVEN!

Roland UNLEASHES on Worrens now with continuous elbow strikes, one after another after another!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

Kamura shouts at Roland to bring it back in the ring, having reached the half way point of the double count out.  Roland blatantly ignores Kamura, even after looking right at him… and sizes up Worrens, who can barely stand on his own!

Other Guy: I don’t like where this is going!

TWELEVE!

The fans can barely watch on as Roland takes two quick steps and looks to DRILL Worrens in the face with a yakuza kick…

WORRENS MOVES!  Roland’s kick goes over the railing and Worrens running on pure adrenaline turns and clotheslines Roland from the side, catching him off balance and knocking him to the floor!

FOURTEEN!

FIFTEEN!

Worrens staggers to the ring now, and slides in under the bottom rope, breaking the double count out, and forcing Kamura to begin the count out just for Roland.

Dave Dymond: Somehow Trevor Worrens stays with it in this match up, but I think it would have been safe to say that had Roland landed that kick, this one was over.

Other Guy: Worrens already can barely stand, that kick woulda been the final nail, Dave.  No doubt about that.

Kamura reaches four on the single count out, and now Roland is up to his feet and turns now to get back into the ring.  Worrens is up to his feet, staggering a great deal, as Roland enters.  Roland goes towards Worrens, but Worrens drops to a knee and catches Roland with a palm jab to the gut.  Roland has the wind knocked out of him, and Worrens now up, quick hook of the neck… and drops with a desperation DDT! Roland’s forehead hits the mat first and Worrens pushes Roland over completely onto his back, and again with a cover attempt.

ONE!

TWO!

TH… another strong kick out by Roland.  Worrens gets up to his knees first, upset and concerned that Roland kicked out.  Worrens then all the way up to his feet and Roland starts to get up off the mat as well.  This time Worrens keeps control though, hooking Roland into a front facing headlock, and pulling him up to his feet slightly.  As Roland tries to fight against Worrens, Worrens cranks the neck from the headlock position, trying to wear Roland down.  Roland falters a bit, but still works on powering out against Worrens, suddenly lifting him up, and then dropping him groin first onto his knee!

Dave Dymond: Quick atomic drop by Roland, and its enough to force Worrens to release the headlock.

Worrens finds himself wincing in pain again, and now Roland with a quick body slam, right into a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Kick out by Worrens.  Roland doesn’t let this bother him though as he pulls Worrens all the way up off the mat… and a second body slam… and ANOTHER pin attempt.  Kamura counts again.

ONE!

TWO!

TH… shoulder up by Worrens and Kamura only shows a two count.  Roland leaves Worrens on the mat now, and suddenly starts off towards the upper right corner of the ring.

Other Guy: Dave, mister play by play, what the HELL is Roland planning on doing?

Dave Dymond: Well Roland not entirely a stranger to the top turnbuckle, but… its not exactly his strong suit either!

All at once the fans begin to buzz, some even standing up out of shock and surprise as sure enough Roland goes to the outside and starts to ascend to the top turnbuckle!  And the noise only gets louder as Worrens starts to get up now, forcing Roland to re-think his strategy, but Worrens now comes barreling at him, climbing up from the front! Roland plants one foot on the mat, his other foot on the second rope, as Worrens NAILS him with a palm jab to the face.  Roland holds onto the rope to keep stable as Worrens NAILS him again..

And again! And again and again and again and again!  Roland is REELING on the outside, the fans actually getting behind Worrens now, only for Roland to suck it up and just SHOVE Worrens back hard!  Worrens lands on his back on the mat, but Roland chooses not to go to the top rope at this point, and gets back into the ring fully.

Other Guy: Change of plans on Roland’s part, but if he was serious about going air-born… well that could have done some serious damage.

Dave Dymond: To either of them if you think about it.  That’s why they call those moves high risk after all.

Other Guy: Yeah, well Roland’s proved in this match that just getting into the ring with him is high risk for his opponents.  And I HATE that he has that to back up his claims.

Dave Dymond: In other words, Roland proving he’s not all talk here tonight as he is truly testing the limits and the strength to continue on of Trevor Worrens.

Worrens works on getting up to his feet, stunned a bit by the force of Roland’s shove, but Roland right there to bring Worrens up the rest of the way.  Worrens tries to fight away from Roland, but Roland grabs him forcefully, twists the arm once and then whips him into the corner.  Worrens hits sternum first this time, but turns away from the corner, in time to see Roland stomping towards him. Worrens again connects with a palm jab, snapping Roland’s head back from the impact. Then a left knee strike to the side, causing Roland to falter. With Roland unstable, Worrens grabs his head with both hands then PUSHES it down at the same time as Worrens lifts his left knee!

CRACK!

Roland’s entire body snaps backwards from the impact of the knee to the forehead, and Roland lands on his back!  Worrens stands there for a moment, half staggering in place as he just looks down at Roland… seemingly unsure of what to do next.

Dave Dymond: Worrens looks to be out of it, and he needs to make the cover more than ever right now!

Other Guy: He’s hesitating, as if he’s expectin’ Roland to just flat out kick out, just as he’s done time and time again.

Worrens continues to look at Roland, who stirs only slightly on the mat.  And then he turns away from him all together, moving into the corner and eyeing the bottom turnbuckle.  The fans begin to buzz as it slowly dawns on everyone what Worrens is doing.  While Kamura checks on Roland, Worrens bends down and tugs at the turnbuckle pad… eventually removing it all together!

Dave Dymond: We have seen Worrens do this once before out of desperation in his fight against Jester Smiles… and it looks like Worrens feels like he has no choice here tonight either.

As Roland shows signs of being able to continue, and not being knocked out, Kamura again signals for the match to continue, not having seen Worrens remove the bottom turnbuckle padding. Worrens starts to look away from the corner all together, but the fans suddenly begin to stir, and heads start turning towards the entryway.

Other Guy: Expected this, Dave.   Here comes Kaz Sato!

Sure enough, Sato starts towards the ring now, and he has Worrens’s full attention.  The fans actually begin to boo a little now, but Sato doesn’t even seem to care.

Dave Dymond: Kaz Sato has become a whole different beast as of late, and he’s damn obsessed with the World Heavyweight title.

Other Guy: Man feels he was robbed, I don’t agree, but he’s showin’ tenacity, which is a mark of a good champion if ya ask me, Dave.

Worrens shouts at Sato, but before Sato can get that close to the ring, the fans POP as Ray Willmott charges out from behind Sato, and he quickly grabs him firmly by the shoulder. Sato spins around, and Willmott immediately starts shouting at him and shaking his head “no!”

Dave Dymond: Well I’ll be… Ray Willmott looking to keep this match clean as he’s basically telling Sato NOT to get involved… not tonight!

With Willmott handling Sato in a heated argument outside, Worrens turns now, just as Roland starts to get up. Worrens sizes up Roland, waiting patiently for Roland to get up to his feet.  Roland is up, and he finally turns to face Worrens, and Worrens right there with a quick kick directly to the mid-section.  Roland doubles over and Worrens wrenches on a headlock, pulling Roland back towards the corner where the lower turnbuckle is exposed! Outside of the ring, Willmott and Sato continue to argue, and Sato again turns to go towards the ring, but Willmott grabs him again and spins him around and just SHOUTS right in Sato’s face!

All eyes are on Worrens, however, as he looks backwards a bit, making sure to be in proper place for the exposed turnbuckle.

Roland tries to struggle out of Worrens’s grip, but Worrens lands a couple of one armed shots to Roland’s back, and then with ALL his driving force, DDT’S Roland onto the exposed lower turnbuckle!!  Roland’s head bounces off the metal ring, which JABS Roland square between the eyes!  Roland rolls over onto his back, the bridge of his nose gashed open!

Dave Dymond: Roland opened up by the metal ring… and Worrens now with the cover!

Kamura makes the count

ONE!

TWO!

THREE

Other Guy: HE GOT EM…

Dave Dymond: NO!

The fans let out a collective “Oooooh” as Kamura holds up two fingers and points to the ropes.  Roland has his free arm extended outward, grabbing the bottom rope! Worrens rolls off of Roland, eyes wide now as he grabs Roland’s foot and pulls him away from the ropes a bit more.  He then pulls Roland into a sitting position, and from behind looks to lock in the arm-hook sleeper submission!

Other Guy: Worrens going for the BBR, and this is one of those submissions, Dave, that if its locked in, there ain’t NO getting out of it!

Dave Dymond: Worrens has only successfully once gotten the hold locked on tight enough to end a match, and since then everyone he’s faced has been looking out for this submission… question is, is Roland Caldwell even conscious enough to know what’s going on?

Worrens brings Roland’s right arm up, putting it in position to wrap his own arm through… however, as he does this… Roland’s eyes snap wide open and he immediately shoves his whole body and arm back, knocking Worrens with a blind shot!  Worrens staggers back, and Roland now turns around, looking to get his footing, but just as he does so… Worrens… WITH A KNEE STRAIGHT TO THE FACE!!!

Outside Willmott shouts at Sato to leave, not letting go of his arm…

The cover is made…

ONE!

Sato turns and DECKS WILLMOTT!

TWO!

Sato charges full speed at the ring.

THREE!!!

Kamura calls for the bell, and at the same time Sato NAILS Worrens with a diving forearm to the back of the head!  Worrens is laid out next to Roland now, and Sato immediately gets into a mounting position and starts pummeling away on Worrens!!!

Dave Dymond: Sato has lost it!  Trevor Worrens with a successful defense of his World Heavyweight Championship, but Kaz Sato just outright ASSAULTING the champ!

The boos actually sound loudly now as Sato takes advantage of the fallen Worrens.  Kamura quickly gets involved, but Sato rises up off of Worrens and just shoves Kamura flat on his ass!  And then the fans suddenly CHEER as Willmott is back with it and he sprints at the ring, sliding under the bottom rope.  Sato turns to go back to attacking Worrens, but is met with a HIGH FLIP dropkick from Sato!  Sato goes down hard and now Willmott drops down on him with a series of punches!!!

Other Guy: It’s all comin’ to the boiling point, Dave!

Dave Dymond: Oh I think its WAY past that, O.G.! This one has outright exploded in front of us!

The fans are on their feet cheering loudly as Willmott lets loose on Sato… but Sato eventually gets his arms up and shoves Willmott off to the side.  Willmott is quick up to his feet, but Sato lunges with a spear like tackle take down!  Worrens slowly back up to his feet now, and staggering he sees Sato assaulting Willmott… he goes after Sato now, grabbing him from behind and pulling him off of Willmott!  Sato turns snaps, misses a forearm shot, and as he spins around, Worrens takes him down with a clothesline!  Sato rolls out of the ring… and the fans start booing…

Worrens goes to turn to help Willmott…

CLANK!!

Other Guy: Roland with a STEEL CHAIR!

Worrens is dropped in an instant; Willmott doesn’t see it coming either as he is up, turns

ANOTHER CHAIR SHOT, THIS TIME TO WILLMOTT!!!

Dave Dymond: Wow… just like we saw weeks ago!

Kamura stands amongst the wreckage, shouting at Roland while motioning for SHOOT Project security to take control.  Roland just stands there, blood running down between his eyes.  He wipes his hand down his face, and looks at his own blood on his own hand.

Other Guy: How do you get the better of a guy who never stops coming?  Roland loses the match, all hell breaks loose, but he STILL ends the night as the one left standing.

The fans boo loudly now as Roland once more finds himself standing amongst bodies.  And just as security starts its way down to the ring, Revolution goes off the air.