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JONNYLUTION – Night Two September 29th, 2008

The shot opens cold on TOM QUINN standing in front of a trippy, red and black JONNYLUTION NIGHT TWO back drop. Quinn is in jeans and an orange and brown striped sweater. We can hear the fans BOOOOOOOING loudly in the background, making it clear that this is a live shot.

He brushes a few strands of tangling, dirty brown hair out of his face and looks straight ahead into the camera.

Rogue: I know it sounds like this live crowd is booing, but they’re actually saying… JonnyLUUUUUUUUUUUtion. Night TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Giving a smug little shrug with matching facial expression, Quinn proceeds.

Rogue: Tonight is about finality. Tonight is about cementing reality. TONIGHT is about blood, sweat, tears, and then A LOT more of the blood part. Unlike Night One, tonight is not so much a story of fun but rather a gloomier tale of hopeless consequences.

He pauses.

Rogue: So please… sit back… relax, and ENJOY th…

In the SNAP OF A FINGER the end of a boom mic SUDDENLY SWINGS IN AND THWACKS QUINN IN THE FACE, interrupting his monologue! He looks up toward the production guys with a frustrated scowl!

Rogue: HEY! What the…

A SHOOT Project baseball cap flies at Quinn’s face, temporarily blinding him and seconds later, DANNY EVERS appears and FLIES AT HIM WITH A “TAKE NO PRISONERS” TYPE LUNGING ATTACK!!! He DRILLS Quinn in the face with a right hand and both men tumble to the floor!


The voice belongs to an incoming JASON RILEY who is joined by a just as furious TIM CALAHAN! Both men frantically burst onto the scene and try to pull Evers off of Quinn… But just as they do that… AINSLEY LAKE shows up joined alongside two BEHEMOTHS…




Riley and Calahan manage to pull Quinn away from the scuffle, but quickly second guess any counter attacks on Evers. As if the pendulum hadn’t swung enough, NIGHTMARE enters the scene close behind.

They fall into a stand-off, while security guards RUSH the scene to break things up. Both sides look across at each other, with Quinn holding his head, and Evers looking as fired up as one guy could possibly be.

Riley: You’re not gonna get away with this shit! Sons of Liberty or not… YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING DEAD!

Evers scowls back, while Azazel smirks beneath his mask, white, unworldly eyes glowing with condescending confidence.

Azazel: (Expressionless, cold) The Guilty shall suffer.

Riley stares, dumboundedly, at the MASSIVE frame of Azazel, his face etched with all kinds of "WTF". The guards shout and push guys back, and Rogue, Riley and Super Fan conveniently use the commotion to make their escape. The members of DSI and the Sons of Liberty all gather around Evers and pat him on the back. Their eyes stay on the victims for a second or two before all they all start to nod.

Danny Evers: Let’s get into position, guys.

The alliance of SoL and DSI splits back up and the scene is empty.

Too empty.

Noticing the dead air space, a fairly pedestrian production fellow slinks in front of the camera and awkwardly stares at the television audience.

This appears to be the moment of his life.

Production Guy: This is Jonnylution Night Two!!!

He gives a thumbs up in an attempt to accentuate his excitement.

The video opens with a cartoon.

It’s in black and white, and it appears to be an empty field. There’s a sun in the background, but it has a sad face on.


There’s a pop noise and suddenly a smiley-faced flower sprouts out. The cartoon sun’s face goes wide into an expression of shock!


A second flower pops out.

The sun makes another shock face.

Both flowers are smiling.

The first flower looks next to the second flower.

FLOWER ONE: Hey, wanna dance?


Cut to black screen!

White letters appear!



(“For The Actor” by Mates Of State)

CUT BACK TO CARTOON! The two Flowers and the Sun are now dancing to the SUPER catchy song! The Sun no longer has a sad or shocked face. It’s TOTALLY smiling! Because dancing makes it happy! They sway back and forth in old-timey cartoon fashion!

“Oh, you and me on a fantasy

This is what it’s like! This is what it’s like on a fantasy”

The letters…

…Flash one by one VERY QUICKLY IN RHYMTH over the dancing, happy cartoons.

“No, I wouldn’t challenge your home”

Close up shot on the first flower dancing. It’s… REALLY happy.

“In the basement of words we knew”

Close up shot on the second flower dancing. Seriously. These things are fucking HAPPY.

“There were more of us.”

Close up on the Sun! MAN WHAT A HAPPY SUN!!!!

The music drives forward!!!

“Don’t want to make you grow numb”

As the lyrics kick in again, the shot pans back and now we see them ALL DANCING AGAIN!!! PLUS THERE’S AN OLD TIMEY DANCING CLAREABELLE COW NOW!!!


“If it’s not what you thought it was

Legs are for discovering”

Flashes across the screen letter by letter in rhythm with the music.

The song dips into a momentary key change and the pace slows just a little bit.

Cut once again to a plain black screen, with the actual lyrics written out in white lettering. However, various images quickly flash in and out.

“Relieved and now we see the road.”

They all seem to be video images of SHOOT PROJECT WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, The DEFILER, Jonny Johnson doing various poses with his World Title.

World Title raised over his head.

World Title slung over his shoulder.

His World Tittle on a chair next to him and him laughing and seemingly telling it a very funny story.

The World Title, by itself.

The cameras pan 360 degrees around the Belt.

“This is what it’s like! This is what it’s like on a fantasy.”


Return to the cartoon!!! THEY WONT STOP DANCING!!! Plus now there’s two of the weird racist POPEYE BLACK GUYS DANCING! BUT RACISM HAS NO PLACE IN THIS VIDEO! THEY’RE ALL TOO HAPPY!!!

“Little codes bring the balance to none!”

The Sun makes a “OH DAMN, SWEET DANCE MOVES!” face.

“And the shapes of your hands do tell of such a rare variety”

The music shifts into a key change again, and the cartoon images start to slowly melt away. The cartoons dance more slowly… their happy faces seem to diminish or, at least, you can’t tell how they feel anymore.

“Relieved and now we see the road

This is what it’s like! This is what’s it’s like on a fantasy.”

The images continue to melt away.



We see a sudden clip of JONNY JOHNSON landing the DEMORALIZATION PROCESS!!

The tempo slows down BIG TIME.

“You put your life on hold as we interest one another

Two steps closer to the level I imagined

I remember when it poured and you sang to me in summer

It’s a fantasy”

Various images begin flashing in and out of the shot. SHOOT Project wrestlers in action, but none of them distinguishable because the face of a VERY SAD BABY has been super imposed over their HEADS! It’s a rapid succession of shots. Varying equipment, heights and sizes, but there’s no real way to tell who’s who.

“You put your life on hold as we interest one another

Two steps closer to the level I imagined…”

As the the verse plays a second time, we get a quick cut to a black screen with white letters that read: “NO ONE ESCAPES THE DEFILER”

“I remember when it poured and you sang to me in summer.”

“It’s a fantasy.”

We then see more shots of these SAD BABY FACE images. They flash on and off the bodies, showing faces of Jester Smiles, Donovan King, Trevor Worrens, Cade Sydal. Corazon… The list goes on. Nightmare and Eli Storm. The baby faces flash out and we see them, in pain, in various shots that depict them as injured or weak.

The song moves into a musical interlude, a xylophone solo.

It would normally seem cheery or at least innocent, but as it kicks into gear, we return to the cartoon.

The Sun is visibly crying, watching as the world below it starts to die.

The flowers are wilting and screaming “OH NO I HAVE AIDS!”

The cow is being stabbed with a trident by a Mermaid King

And the Racist Black Popeye Characters are being arrested by police.

Then at the very end, the Sun itself BLOWS UP!

Probably from sadness.

“Relieved and now we see the road

This is what it’s like! This is what it’s like on a fantasy!”

The cartoon world is void of life in the following shot.

“Don’t want to make you grow numb

If it’s not what you thought it was”

Like ghosts at first, the images of JONNY JOHNSON, TOM QUINN, JASON RILEY, TIM CALAHAN, OSBOURNE KILMINSTER, SINNOCENCE, and NOVA LYNN JACKSON walk in from the back… slowly, in line. Quinn and Riley are the first to the left, and then Jonny… Osbourne next to him… Sinnocence at his side, with Calahan and Nova finishing out.

“This is what it’s like

This is what it’s like on a fantasy”

They all stop walking and shuffle their feet a bit before halting entirely.

All in suits or dresses.

Staring ahead.




The SECOND NIGHT of JONNYLUTION opens similarly to the show last week, although this time around the pyrotechnics are BLOOD RED and fire off slightly less frantic. “For The Actor” by Mates of State blares throughout the arena and the cameras pan across the Thomas and Mack Center, capturing candid footage of the fanbase. The usual mark and smarky signs are out front and center, with the usual cast of drunken idiots, redneck families, and one or two normal looking people spattered about like a bad paint job. They shout and scream everything from “YEAH” to the slightly more obscure “GINA WANTS IT THICK!” Audio never lies. Someone actually shouts that at the top of the show.

After a few more seconds of crowd shots, the production team switches over to the cameraman near the announce table. His footage brings close up on the ANNOUNCE TEAM.



and of course… OTHER GUY.

Jeff and Joey are not as celebratory as they were at the start of last week’s show, whereas OG DOES look to be in a slightly better mood. He pumps his fist and looks straight ahead, obviously happy with how the night began moments ago. However, he’s careful not to get TOO excited, knowing full well that Evers, Lake, Nightmare, and DSI employees, Azazel and Leviathan may have just as easily made their lives worse than better. Jeff has the hintings of scowl creeping into his demeanor, while Joey tries to play it cool.

Jeff Hansen: Well, Joey… I guess even the rats have their moment, but give credit where it’s due… That WAS a fantastic boom mic slaughter! The courage that it must take to hide amongst the production team and launch an attack of that nature. Kudos to the Sons of Liberty for proving just how sad they are.

Other Guy: All I’ll say, Jeff… is that the fans aren’t booing at the top of the program. Plus it made that horrible opening video a little easier to watch. (Looking down at the desk) Oh, and look RATINGS ARE IN…

He turns and looks up to Jeff, flipping him the middle finger.

Other Guy: HUGE numbers, Jeff.

Jeff shakes his head and tries to ignore OG’s remarks, having nothing to comeback with.

Joey C: Still a moment credited to the ALWAYS EXCITING Jonnylution. You see stuff on this show that you’re not gonna see on the old Sunday program. (Looking over to Jeff) And speaking of Revolution, have they canceled that horseshit yet?

Jeff has a little more pep in his… ahem… voice.

Jeff Hansen: From what I understand, we’re going to have an official announcement later tonight, but Joey… I do believe Revolution is on the way out.

Joey looks over to OG and shrugs.

Joey C: Sorry, man. You gave it your all, though!

OG stays steady and sure.

Other Guy: We’ll see man, we’ll see.

Following Other’s Guy’s trailing optimism, the focus shifts over to the actual ring, where announcer SAMANTHA COIL is set to call the opening contest. Joining her in the ring is SHOOT Project contracted official, WILLIE DEAN. Willie looks almost as confused as he was last week, and must be being drained of any and all confidence he may have actually had.

Dean checks in with a few members of the ring crew and then nods his head.


rufio the seven-foot clown vs CBP


As soon as the bell rings, the shot quickly shifts over to a heavily bandaged MARK KENDRICK. The Nittany Lion alumni seems a bit worse for the wear.

Jeff Hansen: Kendrick a little slow this week, but no biggie. We’ve got out opening bout, and Joey… when we talk about the all time great dream matches… This one might be at the very head of the class. Of course, I’m talking about this IRON FIST CONTENDERSHIP contest we’re about to watch go down between a pair of LEGENDS in this sport… RUFIO the SEVEN-FOOT CLOWN and CHARLES BRYANT PENZE… otherwise known as CBP.

The shot cuts back over to the ring, while Jeff and Joey continue to have their discussion.

Joey C: A potential match of the year candidate, Jeff. And what Drama. What a story heading into this one. Rufio going one on one with a man he admires, the often forgotten drummer for pop sensations, TRES BIEN!

Jeff Hansen: Of which ,Maya will be in action a little later going up against the very talented Ron Barker. But that is neither here nor there. Let’s kick it to Sammy Baby in the ring! Coil, doll! Take it away!

Coil stands a lot more proudly in the ring than she did last week.

Samantha Coil: The following contest is schedule for one fall and will be fought under IRON FIST RULES. The winner will go on to be named NUMBER ONE CONTENDER for the SHOOT Project, IRON FIST CHAMPIONSHIP!

“Brass Monkey” by the Beastie Boys starts to play on the PA system and the fans offer up a mild pop for the arrival of CBP. He doesn’t come out right away, but a few measures into the song, he bursts through the curtains, eliciting a nice round of cheers.

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, at a weight of One-Hundred, Eighty-Five pounds… from Tulsa Oklahoma… CHARLES BRYANT PENZE… CBP!!!

While CBP normally hands out tootsie rolls or some other kind of candy, the confused lightweight seems to be hocking JONNY JOHNSON based merchandise. In fact, he’s actually trying to sell it. A fan tries to take a shirt, but CBP lets him know that he’d have to buy it first. The fan looks confused, which makes CBP even more confused, and then actually starts to BOO CBP. CBP furrows his brow and walks away.

Other Guy: Explain this point of this match again? Just to open with another sick joke?

Jeff Hansen: Dream match, OG.

Joey C: Yeah, Dream match.

CBP shoves the DEFILER, “SAD BABY” T-shirt back into a small, white satchel hanging off from his shoulder and proceeds to grumpily walk to the ring. The fans still mostly cheer, though CBP avoids contact with anyone looking for a high five.

Jeff Hansen: CBP trying to turn heel, Joey?

Joey C: I don’t think so, Jeff. I’m pretty sure he’s just pouting.

Penze slides into the ring and takes the satchel off. Willie Dean check in with the often maligned SHOOT Project solider, while CBP hands off his bag of shirts to a nearby ring crew member. A few fan cheer very loudly in the front row, and CBP stops to shush them, wanting to be able to hear what Willie Dean is saying to him.

He eventually nods at whatever Dean is requesting, and in the meantime. “Brass Monkey” by Beastie Boys starts to fade.

Jeff Hansen: CBP checking in with Willie Dean, ready and waiting for his opponent… a man… a LEGEND who has my vote as a first ballot Hall of Famer…

CBP stretches in the ring, and stumbles awkwardly.

Mostly no one notices.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent…

We hear a familiar tune.

Opening piano.

“Just a Small Town Girl…

Living in a lonely world.”


“She took the midnight training going anywhere….”

As the song swells a little bit, the curtains rustle and here comes A FRIGGIN HUGE CLOWN!

Samantha Coil: He weighs in at two-hundred, fourteen pounds and hails from Parts Unknown. Here is… RUFIO THE SEVEN-FOOT CLOWN!

”Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey brings the crowd into a bit of a ruckus, as the sold out arena cannot help but sing along with the catchy tune. Rufio walks out with pain in his eyes, a ruined warrior. He has on red suspenders attached to red trousers, which cover a red and white striped shirt. His giant clown shoes flop like a couple of fish out of water as he clunks down toward the ring.

“Just a city boy.

Born and raised in South Detroit…”

Rufio stops and looks out to the crowd.

“He took the midnight train going anywhere…”

Again the music swells and Rufio the Seven-Foot Clown continues his walk to the ring.

Jeff Hansen: At a time when SHOOT Project needs Heroes… These people hope Rufio can give them the strength.

Other Guy: You just love doing that don’t you? Make a mockery of everyone who walks down that aisle?

Jeff Hansen: A mockery? I said Rufio’s a hero.

Other Guy: Yeah, and I’m sure you buy that.

Joey C: You don’t think he’s a hero, OG?

Other Guy: Not even gettin’ into it.

Rufio makes his way up the ramp and into the ring. Unlike most big men, though, he ducks through the ropes instead of walking over, since he’d probably break his neck. He enters the ring and stares across at CBP.

Jeff Hansen: The music is fading… Ladies and gentlemen… Maybe the single most anticipated contest in years.

Willie Dean pats down Rufio’s long, lanky body, as if the man was REALLY going to cheat, but he does it anyway. The Clown obliges and Willie Dean signals for the two to begin their encounter.

Jeff Hansen: HERE WE GO! Rufio the Seven-Foot Clown… CBP… Iron Fist Rules… Iron Fist RAMIFICATIONS. One of these men will have the opportunity of a lifetime.

Joey C: Big time opening to a big time show.

CBP moves fluidly compared to awfully clumsy looking Rufio, as the two competitors seek out their early advantage. CBP rushes in and attempts a drop kick out of nowhere, but doesn’t plan the distance well and actually manages to fall short. Rufio then tries for a leg drop, but barely can leap off the mat, thus making the move look weak and very fake as his right leg falls on CBP’s shoulder. Rufio slides off. CBP shakes the pain away and stands up, not wanting to be counted out.

Rufio is REALLY slow to get up.

CBP waits.

Rufio makes it back up and both men suddenly give an “action” pose as if they had completed the “Indie Stand-Off”

A few fans laugh, while most of the fans watch confused, clapping off-beat, and not sure they should be clapping at all.

Jeff Hansen: (Laughing a little bit) Classic.

Other Guy: Why is this crap funny to you guys?

Rufio nods and bounces off the ropes behind him. He charges back at CBP with a clothesline. CBP ducks. Rufio turns around! CBP kicks him in the midsection. Rufio is about a half second to sell and then oversells. CBP bounces off the ropes and charges with a swinging neck breaker, but Rufio doesn’t remember to spin through with it. CBP flies across the mat and Rufio remains hunched over. Seconds later, Rufio tumbles down to the mat and grab at his neck.

Jeff Hansen: A variation on the swinging neck-breaker! What would you call that, Joey?

Joey C: I believe that’s the “No Sell Neck Breaker”, Jeff. A move so stunning that the opponent actually completely forgets he’s being attacked until moments later. A VERY difficult maneuver to pull off, but CBP shines, Jeff.

CBP tells Dean to count!

Willie looks confounded as always.

Rufio holds at his neck in agony on the mat.

Dean starts to count.



Jeff Hansen: Very tense moment here for CBP!

Joey C: Rufio is moving a little bit, but can he muster the energy to continue this match?!

Rufio stirs, but Dean’s count continues.



A few fans get a little antsy, not sure whether this is intentional, or if they’re simply witnessing the worst match in history. A few “BOOOOOOOS” start up from the crowd who has decided that this is simply “bad”.


Rufio weirdly claws and crawls toward the ropes and starts to pull himself up…

Jeff Hansen: IT’s look like Rufio is going to do it!


Rufio the Seven-Foot Clown is up to answer the ten count, at SIX and Dean signals for the match to go on.

Jeff Hansen: And back to work we go!


Other Guy: Give me a goddamn break. The fans deserve better than this.

Joey C: (Blatantly ignoring OG) How much more can these two have left to offer, even?

Jeff Hansen: They’re soliders, Joey. So a lot.

Rufio is up and stares down CBP again, though not without holding his neck. CBP sizes his opponent up and moves in for a grapple! Rufio does the same. CBP sells a struggle like mad, but Rufio’s body language and the angle he’s working out of suggests he’s offering very little in terms of strength. CBP goes for a single leg take down and is successful, but in an awkward way. Rufio falls, but lands on his ass as opposed to his back! He then FALLS to his back, but not before making the move look bad. CBP flips himself in the air and lands down with a charing senton!

CBP stands up and looks shocked that he actually landed a move.

He then charges at Rufio and covers him up for a PIN!

Willie Dean of course does not count.

Jeff Hansen: A lateral press from CBP who has controlled a great deal of this contest, and is now trying to keep his opponent at bay.

Dean tells CBP that pin falls aren’t counted in this type of match, and CBP perks up. While he’s distracted Rufio lets out a WILD BARBARIAN YELL and pushes CBP off, as though the Clown had escaped a near fall.

CBP slaps the mat in frustration.

The crowd stars to stir.

Heads are turning toward the back of the arena.

Jeff Hansen: (Not noticing the commotion right away) Things are heating up between these two outstanding combatants! Which man will walk out of here with…

Joey C: Dude what the hell?

The crowd actually breaks into a substantially LARGE POP as KENJI YAMADA appears out of the masses! He hops over the guard rail, a crazed look in his eyes, and he is NOT alone.

With him… A light-tube in one hand and a kendo stick wrapped in barbed wire in the other!!!

Jeff Hansen: This is not scheduled… Kenji Yamada NOT scheduled to be here. What the HELL is he doing, Joey?

Before Dean or Rufio or CBP can react Kenji slides into the ring! CBP sees him first…



Rufio now turns around and Yamada SLAMS THE KENDO STICK INTO HIS SIDE!!! The barbed wire gets tangled up in his trousers! RUFIO YELPS IN PAIN AS YAMADA RIPS THE KENDO STICK BACK! HE THEN SLAMS THE KENDO STICK RIGHT INTO RUFIO’S FACE!!! Rufio tries to cover up, but the barbed wire digs in and the Seven-Foot Clown is already starting to bleed PROFUSELY! Blood stains his white clown make-up!!! Rufio falls to a knee! KENJI CHARGES WITH A YAKUZA KICK TO THE HEAD!!!

Jeff Hansen: WHAT THE HELL??? Why is this happening?!?!





Kenji RIPS the broken kendo stick out of Rufio’s body and holds it in the air! THE FANS POP FREAKISHLY LOUD, which is weird considering how popular both CBP and Rufio generally are! Blood drips from the vines of barbed wire, and Kenji THROWS it back down onto Rufio’s body! He then turns to see CBP moving, BARELY, but all he sees is a target still mobile and he lunges at CBP’s body and mounts him! He then starts throwing A SUCCESSION OF CLOSE FIST SHOTS TO THE FACE!!! CBP IS A BLOODY MESS AND KENJI ONLY MAKES IT WORSE!!!

All of the announcers are silent.

KENJI DOES NOT LET UP AND THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET ENJOYING THE PURE CARNAGE!!! SHOT AFTER SHOT AFTER SHOT!!! Finally Kenji gets up, his hand coated in CBP’s blood, and lets out a primal scream!


Yamada snarls and glares at the crowd.

Kenji Yamada: (To the fans, off mic) SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!

In a fit of rage he slides out of the ring and heads over to Coil and Kendrick! He picks Kendrick up out of his chair and HURLS him violently toward the guard railing! He then takes Kendrick’s chair and THROWS IT OUT INTO THE CROWD!


The fans shout as they hear it CRASH somewhere in the distance! Kenji then VIOLENTLY grabs Samantha Coil’s microphone and starts to speak.

Kenji Yamada: ALL OF YOU SHUT UP! NOW!!!

A fan tries to touch him and Kenji literally looks like he is going to kill the guy. So much so that the fan is startled and IMMEDIATELY backs away. Kenji slides back into the ring and Willie Dean runs away ASAP. He stands over the completely BRUTALIZED bodies of Rufio the Seven-Foot Clown and CBP.

Kenji Yamada: This is NO joke. I want my Iron Fist Title. I WILL HAVE MY IRON FIST TITLE!

He looks around again at the carnage and casts an insane smile.

Kenji Yamada: PLEASE come and tell me, I’M BEGGING YOU…to try and tell me I DON’T DESERVE it.

He looks up, glaring, snarling like a maniac killer right out of a Slasher.


Kenji seems distant and lowers his tone.

Kenji: I didn’t think so… (Shaking his head) I didn’t think so…

Yamada drops the microphone and leaves the ring. As soon as he is gone, the ring crew rushes in to get to work. Doctors tend to Rufio and CBP while others quickly begin to clean up the pieces of light tube.

Jeff Hansen: You know, Kenji. There were better ways to ask for a shot… And ruining the opening bout on Jonnylution was probably the worst decision you’ve ever made. Family or not.. Man. What a crock of shit. Excuse my language. But seriously.

Joey C: Unfortunately, after what we’ve seen from Kenji, we may never know who would win this bout. Nor do we have an official number one contender for the Iron Fist Championship.

The ring is a disaster.

Other Guy: Dude took what he needed to take. Y’all want a number one contender? I think Kenji’s just as good a choice as any.

Jeff Hansen: Oh you mean the guy that just LOST IT? Yeah. HE deserves it. Right, OG. Why don’t you let the professionals do their job and you stick to your bias match calling thing?

Joey C: Man that ring is a disaster.

We get a close up of the mess in the ring, but only for a couple more seconds before the cameras head off elsewhere.



“Now WAY those fucks are getting away with that! NO FUCKING WAY!”

JASON RILEY shouts loudly as he, TOM QUINN, and TIM CALAHAN make their way down a stretch of corridor enroute to the SHOOT PROJECT WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION’S locker room. Jonnylution night two has not exactly kicked off the way anyone in Jonny’s camp would have liked, and the frustration has began to set in somewhat early, only one match into the evening. Quinn holds at his face and moves a little gingerly after being shell shocked by an unexpected Danny Evers’ BOOM MIC assault, while Calahan tries to keep Riley from drawing too much more attention.

Super Fan: Riles, it’s gonna be cool. Okay?

Riley keeps moving forward and makes a quick turn.

Riley: You say that EVERY WEEK, and it doesn’t EVER GET OKAY! We lose last week… this week we’re thrown to the front line. WHY DID WE DO THAT SHIT LIVE?! Huh?! Oz and Sinn got to TAPE their shit. But they throw Quinn out there… LIVE?

They quickly find themselves outside JONNY JOHNSON’S locker room door, and Riley looks at Quinn and then back at Calahan.

Riley: Tell me that doesn’t sound like a FUCKING SET UP! YOU TELL ME HE’S NOT FUCKING US!

Quinn tries to reason, since he’s sort of the catalyst for all of this.

Rogue: Dude… Come on.

Riley shrugs him off.

Riley: (Very serious) We’re not gonna be Eli Storm casualties, Quinny. We fucking survive… Okay? (Shaking his head and turning to face the door) We’re not the fucking trade-off.

He grabs the door knob an pushes inward.

But it doesn’t budge.

It’s locked.

Riley jiggles with the knob more aggressively.


Riley: (Getting pissed) You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Fiddling with the door more) JONNY! (Knocking now) Jonny, WHAT THE FUCK!? (Knocking more) OPEN THE DOOR!

He SLAMS his palm into the frame, his frustration at a peak.

Riley: DAMNIT!

Even Quinn and Calahan appear a little dejected, as if maybe this HAD been more than a coincidence. Tim shakes his head of the idea as quickly as he can, while Quinn stands with his hands on his hips.

Super Fan: There’s gotta be a reason, man. He didn’t send us out to slaughter. How would he know? You’re being paranoid again. Just like the Nova bullshit. Just like EVERYTHING. You need to chill the hell out, dude.

It seems as though Riley has had it with Calahan’s constant “yes man” routine. He spins around and tackles him toward the wall!


Rogue: GUYS!!!

Calahan, much larger, holds is ground.

Super Fan: GET OFF OF ME!

Riley continues to scratch and claw as the two scuffle around. Quinn tries to pull Riley off, knowing that if he pushes Calahan too far, Tim’s gonna take a swing and knock his head off!


Glaring at Tim, Riley puts his hand up in his face, while simultaneously being pulled back by Tom.


Calahan suddenly stops and Quinn is able to pull Riley off.

But everyone falls into a stunned silence.

Riley falls back a few steps behind Quinn.

Riley: Against a brick wall. A few nights ago. She loved it, Tim…

Calahan looks up to Riley, something even powerful than rage in his eyes.

Super Fan: You’re a real piece of shit, Riley.

Riley smirks.

Riley: Cause I get laid and you don’t?

Quinn turns around to shut Riley up.

Rogue: Dude… ENOUGH!

OSBOURNE KILMINSTER turns the corner of the corridor and comes slap-bang face-to-face with the melee and takes half a step back, adjusting the Iron Fist Championship Belt on his shoulder.

Osbourne Kilminster: Woah! Woah! What the Hell’s going on here, lads?

Kilminster probably couldn’t have arrived at a better time. His presence keeps Calahan from striking back and proves to momentarily shut Riley up as well. In fact, all three of them are deathly silent. Kilminster seems confused, since it’s likely he didn’t see the need to take a peek at any of the monitors on his way to Jonny’s locker room.

Quinn stares at Kilminster and realizes that Kilminster probably doesn’t care enough for him to go into everything. So instead he hesitates and looks at the door, hoping a subject change doesn’t further irritate Riley or Calahan.

Rogue: The door’s locked. We’re just… Everyone’s a little frustrated.

None of the other two say anything.

Osbourne frowns confusedly.

Osbourne Kilminster: (Trying to put together the rationale) That’s Jonny’s locker room… and Jonny’s in there… and he’s locked the door?

Quinn nods.

Rogue: Yeah.

Without warning, Riley lets out a huff and throws his hands in the air.

Riley: I’m out. Fuck this shit.

And just like that Riley leaves. No one knows to where, or if he’ll come back, but no one stops him either. They’re all quiet again, with Kilminster trying to sort all of it out before things get anymore out of hand.

Osbourne Kilminster: Did anybody actually SEE Jonny go into this locker-room? You know for sure he’s in there, right?

Calahan nods and speaks up after Riley’s out of earshot, his nerves calming down a bit.

Super Fan: Yeah. We were all here setting up about two and a half, maybe three hours ago. He had us go everything for the opener and then… I guess after we left to do that… That was the last time we saw him.

Taking a deep breath, Osbourne shakes his head and takes a gulp.

Osbourne Kilminster: You know what this is? This is Jonny getting ready for his big match later. Riley’s all in a huff and I don’t quite get why, but Jonny needs us to just… respect his provacy right now. I’ll pull this thing together for him…

Smirking ever so slightly to the small posse, he makes very pecific eye contact with each of them.

Osbourne Kilminster: Come on, lads. Let’s get this show on the road.

Quinn looks at Kilminster and then sighs.

Rogue: I’m gonna try and find Jason.

Calahan is solemn.

Super Fan: Yeah.

Quinn leaves in the same direction that Riley did moments ago, leaving Calahan alone with Kilminster.

Super Fan: I guess you’re in charge man. So uhh… Let me know if you need anything. It’s what Jonny would want.

Kilminster sort of shakes his head in disappointment.

Osbourne Kilminster: What Jonny would want is for those idiots to stop running off in different directions and knuckle down as a team, but we have what we have. Come on, man, let’s go find Sinn and get ourselves a space to work this stuff out…

The Iron Fist Champion’s smirk has already faded to a concerned frown, his jaw clenched as he heads off down the corridor, closely followed by Calahan.


The camera finds us once more in the halls of Thomas and Mack Arena, the focus square on the SHOOT Project Tag Team Champions (still missing their gold), CJ Nelson and Jared Walsh. Long Island Hardcore walk slowly through the halls, Jared in particular looking a little worse for the wear. He has a two butterfly bandages over his right eye, and his face is still a little yellow in spots from the bruising. CJ, on the other hand, looks remarkably good for someone who went through hell the week previous.

Jared Walsh: What the fuck do we say, man? "Oh, Jonny’s just full of shit, you can’t trust a word he says"? I mean, whatever it is, they’re not likely to buy it anyway.

CJ Nelson: So we’ll just not talk to them, then? That’s a sound strategy, Jared. Let’s ignore our friends and prove the asshole right.

Jared: Still doesn’t answer the question. What the hell are we gonna say?

CJ: Fuck it, just wing it. That’s kinda what we do the majority of the time anyway.

They stop in front of a door, with CJ knocking heavily. The door, in pink lettering, says "TRES BIEN".

Jared: Why can’t our nameplate be custom-colored?

CJ: Don’t be a douche.

The door opens with a slow creak, Shinya’s face is first to be seen. As he notices that LIHC are at the door there is an awkward look that comes to his face. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t look excited.

Shinya: Oh…Jared and CJ…how are you doing?

Shinya still remained polite, but there is an awkward tone to his voice. An uncomfortable awkwardness. He doesn’t open the door all the way, Maya cannot be seen.

Shinya: Maya is just getting ready for his match…he’s really nervous.

CJ: I can imagine. Barker does that to people.

They pause for a moment, and when the awkward silence starts getting into uncomfortable territory (since Shinya doesn’t seem to be letting them in), Jared speaks.

Jared: You mind if we, uh, talk to you guys for a minute?

Shinya’s eyes wander to the side where Maya is sitting. His eyes wander back on LIHC then down to the floor. Shinya seems unsure…but opens the door all the way anyway. Maya is sitting on a bench in the locker room in his wrestling attire, his eyes shoot up as he notices LIHC. But there is that same awkward look on his face that Shinya has.

Shinya: Maya…CJ and Jared came to talk to us. I know you’re trying to focus but I think we should hear what they have to say.

Maya’s eyes don’t return to LIHC, the men Maya respect so much.

Maya: Are you…sure, Shinya?

CJ: Look, we’re not really in any condition to do much more than talking, so can we maybe stop treating us like we’re radioactive or something?

Jared smacked CJ in the gut a little.

Jared: Look, despite what you may have heard, or what Mr. Abrasive over here may act like, we’re not evil people. Assholes? Yeah, I’ll cop to that, but between the four of us, I thought we were friends… and I certainly thought we were past this defensive stage.

Jared sighed heavily, looking down at the floor. He brought his head back up heavily, like it took an inhuman effort to do so.

Jared: Look, we know you paid a visit to Jonny’s office last week, and I know he said a lot of things… but if you’re really going to take the word of a guy who STOLE his own World Championship like he stole our belts over ours, then…

Jared doesn’t want to seem to finish the phrase, and just lets his head droop once more.

Maya’s eyes slowly move up towards Jared. His face slowly follows until he is looking at Jared.

Maya: It’s just…it’s just we wanted to defend you and…and we didn’t know how because we couldn’t…we couldn’t even tell him that he was wrong about you.

Shinya lets out a heavy sigh as he stands beside Maya.

Shinya: We just…I don’t know. Everything Jonny said, it seemed so painful because it might have been true. It was so hard because all of these hurtful things he was saying about our friends…they could be real and we couldn’t even find a reason to tell him he was wrong.

Maya starts to inch closer and closer to Shinya.

Maya: We still don’t…know who did it to us…

CJ: You want names? We don’t have that. We know where at least one of them works, and we know what they all look like, but we don’t really know too much more than that. But that’s really not the point here, is it?

CJ walks into the locker room, sitting down on a chair next to one of the walls.

CJ: Look, Jonny said a lot of things. One thing you’re right about is that you really don’t know whether he’s wrong about us or not.

Jared follows CJ inside, sitting down on a bench next to Maya.

Jared: Jonny likes to say that we did absolutely nothing to help Nova. Hell, he even brings up how I made a porn movie instead. He neglects to mention that I make about 3 movies a week for my website, and have for the past 4 years, because that’s not convenient. But he’s absolutely wrong on the first part. I spent seventy-five thousand dollars on private investigators for the first three weeks she was missing, but when all that came up for nothing, I stopped. I gave up. Am I proud of that? Not in the fucking slightest. But what the hell was I gonna do that people who do that kind of work for a living couldn’t? People get on my case about how I should’ve done more, while they all sat on the sidelines and condemned me for my inaction. How much did they fucking do? Huh? Was I supposed to just fucking knock on people’s doors at random and ask them if they were harboring a kidnapping victim? Is that–

CJ: JARED. This isn’t the time, the place, or the PEOPLE you should be yelling at.

Jared looks to be on the verge of breaking down, but he takes a few deep breaths, and looks down again.

Jared: You’re right. I– I’m sorry, guys. It just… it gets to me, y’know?

Maya clings to Shinya at first but as Jared calms down he looks slightly more at ease. Shinya was unsure of what to do next or who to trust. Shinya started to feel sympathetic towards Jared now.

Shinya: It’s okay…we didn’t know all of the facts. I suppose we shouldn’t have listened to Jonny in the first place. We just wanted to get your belts back…

Maya remained quiet, his emotions unreadable.

CJ smiles, looking down at the ground again.

CJ: And we appreciate the effort. God knows it’s more than anyone else has done.

Jared: You’d think nobody else wants ’em. It’s kind of depressing.

CJ: Look. Despite what Jonny Johnson would have you believe, we like you guys. And despite what you may think of us right now, we got your back.

Jared: You guys talk a lot about making the fans happy. You see the show last week? Jonny set it up with the intention to shit on everyone’s parade, fans included. He even pulled Boden, a guy who’s had 7 matches total since 2004, into this mess to fight Ainsley and us. Mark Kendrick and Dave Dymond got the crap kicked out of ’em, and tonight Abigail Chase… Jonny doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

CJ: So we made the proverbial lemonade. You heard the fan reaction. You saw how it went. In the end, in our own little roundabout way, we have the same goals in mind as you do.

Jared: I guess… good luck tonight. Put on a hell of a show and show Jonny that you’re gonna make this show successful despite his best efforts.

A slight smile curls on Maya’s face, there is that cute kid everyone had come to love so much. He directed the smile at Jared.

Maya: I’ll do my best…for everyone.

CJ stands, walking over to Jared, and helping pull his partner to his feet. Jared puts a hand to his back as they stand up, and the pair start to walk toward the door.

CJ: Glad to hear it. I’ve wanted to see Barker get his for a while, and even better if you guys can do it.

Jared: And if you’re gonna get the belts from Jonny, if you still think that’s a good idea, I wouldn’t recommend diplomacy. It’s not gonna work.

Shinya smiles and walks to the door with LIHC.

Shinya: I suppose not, but we’re just not the kind of people to gang up and hurt people even if they do deserve it. But we’ll do our best to help you.

Shinya closes the door after LIHC leaves, Shinya looks back at Maya with a concerned look.

Shinya: Do you think we can really trust them?

Maya has the same smile on his face…

Maya: I don’t know, Shinya, but I really hope we can…I really do.


Roland Caldwell sits in a locker room. His wrists are being taped by a trainer and Roland stares off, blankly, into space. Roland’s forehead is a mass of gore. The wound on his forehead has torn stitches hanging out of it. Dried blood has caked around his temples and his hair hangs in clumps down the side of his head. The skin is puckered around the edges of the wound and it looks in danger of becoming infected.

The locker room door opens and referee Ron Wellington walks in. He freezes and stares at Roland. Roland does not notice him in the room. The trainer nods to Wellington and leaves.

Roland continues to stare off into space.

Ron Wellington: Roland.

Roland’s head turns and he stares at the referee without recognition.

After several moments, Wellington continues.

Ron Wellington: I can’t let you go out there with your forehead like that.

Roland stares at Wellington as if he isn’t really there. And says nothing.

Ron Wellington: You… you need to put a bandage on it.

Roland smiles wanly.

Roland Caldwell: Or what? What would you do to me? Would you disqualify me? Come on Ron. Its Jonnylution. The people want blood. Jonny wants blood. I want to give them my blood.

Wellington takes a slight step back as Roland continues to stare at him. Roland’s face is slack and trance-like.

Ron Wellington: You can’t start the match with your forehead like that. I’m licensed by the state to look out for everyone in the matches I ref… whether they want me to or not. I will not allow you to wrestle without a bandage on that cut. And I will have you escorted from ringside if you come out without that bandage, and you can bet on that.

Roland continues to stare at Wellington, slightly amused. He stands up and approaches the referee.

Roland Caldwell: What is it about my head that bothers you, Ron? Does it unsettle you? Does it make you realize…


The locker room’s bathroom door opens and Vincent Mallows walks slowly into the room. Roland immediately shrinks away from Wellington. Mallows turns towards Wellington.

Vincent Mallows: Roland will be bandaged for his match Mr. Wellington. You don’t need to worry about that.

Roland and Mallows look at each as Wellington leaves the locker room. Roland reaches under the bench and grabs some bandages as the action picks up elsewhere.


maya vs ron barker

We get back to the ringside area for the next match. Within moments, the lights darken as the beating drums of Audioslave’s "Cochise" choreographs a strobe light effect over the Thomas & Mack Center.

The opening riff, reminiscent of a helicopter flying overhead, builds up the anticipation when it finally leads into the entrance of Ron Barker.

Samantha Coil: This match is scheduled for one fall! On his way to the ring, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 280 lbs, the Ravishing One, RON BARKER!

Ron Barker smiles as he looks at the Vegas crowd shouting obscenities towards him. He makes his way up the ring steps and looks smugly over the first few rows. As he enters the ring and extends his arms, the crowd boos intensely as he smiles wide.

The intro drums to “Bell the Cat” start up, and the crowd launches into cheers! One high-pitched scream later, and Maya comes out onto the stage, Shinya in tow, raising his arms!

Samantha Coil: And his opponent, accompanied by Shinya Nakamura, from Nagano, Japan, weighing in at 172 lbs, MAYA NAKASHIMA!

Maya starts down the aisle, slapping hands with the fans, but never once taking his eye off of Ron Barker in the ring.

Other Guy: Maya looking a lot more serious coming into this match-up.

Joey C: As well he should be, getting into the ring with Ron Barker is no laughing matter.

Jeff Hansen: Especially after you annoy Jonny Johnson, and honestly, the rest of the viewing public, by being the biggest fruit this side of Richard Simmons.

Other Guy: Stay classy, Hansen.

Jeff Hansen: What, did he give you a handjob backstage or something?

Maya and Shinya slide into the ring, running to opposite corners, and hopping on the turnbuckles, trying to get the crowd on their feet. Maya hops down, turning around just in time to eat a clothesline from Ron Barker! Shinya howls, and the crowd boos instantly, as the bell rings, and Willie Dean is trying to keep Shinya at bay as Barker lays boot after boot onto the fallen Maya! Shinya finally slides out of the ring, slamming a hand on the apron in protest, and Dean is on Barker to let up! Finally, Maya rolls out of the ring, holding his side and head, and starting an early count!

Joey C: Aw, poor little guy couldn’t hack it.

Jeff Hansen: Go be Faganese somewhere else.

Other Guy: Are you guys fuckin’ serious?

Barker yells at Maya to get in the ring, and Shinya’s come over to help him out. Maya hops up onto the apron, and Dean is trying to hold Barker back so that Maya comes into the ring… with Barker distracted, Maya springboards onto the top rope, flying OVER Willie Dean and catching Barker with a corkscrew lariat! Barker drops, but he hops back up onto his feet! He can’t find Maya! Maya ducks behind him as he turns around again, sending a kick to his knee, and, as Barker drops to one knee, pulling him down with a bulldog! Barker slams his hand on the mat in frustration as he gets up, but again Maya is like a speeding bullet, sending a flurry of kicks to his midsection, staggering him, before springboarding off the second rope, and catching Barker with a moonsault DDT! Barker’s head bounces off the mat, and the crowd explodes!

Barker is a little groggy this time, but he gets back to his feet before Maya can land any more offense. Maya’s running off the ropes again, and he flies into the air with a front face dropkick– but Barker sidesteps, slamming Maya to the mat! Maya hits hard, clutching his back, and Barker immediately grabs Maya’s leg, putting a foot behind his knee, and pounding it back to the mat! Maya screams out, grabbing his knee, and Barker isn’t about to let up! He grabs Maya’s leg again, with Maya clawing at the mat as Barker pulls his leg high into the air, and slams his knee to the mat again! Both Maya and Shinya cry out, and Barker drops to the mat, trapping Maya in an ankle lock!

Jeff Hansen: Make him cry, Ron!

Maya is straining for the ropes, but to no avail! Shinya is right in front of him, calling to him, but Maya can’t reach! Barker tightens up, and Willie Dean is on the mat, checking on Maya! Maya won’t give up! Shinya starts slapping the apron, in rhythm, and the crowd goes along, stomping their feet! Barker tightens again, but Maya’s pulling… inches away… Barker pulls back, but Maya with the quick lurch forward and he has the ropes! The crowd cheers, as Dean calls for Barker to release the hold. Barker does (reluctantly), and Maya hooks an arm around the second rope, trying to stand up. His leg is obviously giving him some trouble, and Barker kicks it out from under him just to add insult to injury. Maya falls back on the apron, and Shinya is right there to give him some encouraging words, but Barker isn’t going to let the momentum get away, and he pulls Maya to his feet, slamming him to the mat hard with a snap suplex!

Barker grabs Maya by the hair, pulling him up to his feet– Maya grabs Barker’s head, and nails him with a rabbit kick! Barker drops, but so does Maya, clutching his knee! He pulls himself up by the ropes, as Barker shakes out the cobwebs. Maya back on his feet now, and Barker locks up… Barker with a big knee to Maya’s gut, and he tosses Maya to the ropes! Maya’s going a little slower, but he’s still quicker than most! Maya ducks a Barker clothesline, and Barker turns around to a HUGE corkscrew moonsault off the second rope! Barker drops to the mat, and Maya hops to his feet, puts a finger in his own mouth, making a “pop” before nailing the Ravishing One with a standing shooting star press! Maya with the cover!

Jeff Hansen: C’mon, Barker, you can’t get beat by… by… whatever that was!

Other Guy: He calls that the Lollipop Leap, and it may have Barker down for the count!

Joey C: Nobody asked you, Other Gay.




Barker tosses Maya off of him, and Maya lands with a thump! Barker pushes himself to his feet, and Maya is there! Barker swings a clothesline, but Maya ducks, hopping onto Barker’s shoulders! Maya swings around for a hurracanrana– no! Barker plants him to the mat with a powerbomb! Barker pushes Maya onto the second rope, right in front of Shinya, and lays a leg across him! Barker choking Maya out while Shinya watches, with Dean starting a 5-count! Barker lays off at the 4, before doing it again, all the while yelling at Shinya on the outside! Barker gets up at the 4 count, and Maya flops back onto his back, coughing and clutching his throat! Barker drops to the mat, putting a hand around Maya’s throat, and choking him again! The crowd boos hard, and Barker lets go before the 5 count. He pulls Maya to his feet, and pulls him up into a falcon arrow, holding on for the cover!



THR– Kickout!

Barker grabs Maya by the hair, pulling him up, and slamming him back onto his back! He drops an elbow across Maya’s sternum, and goes for the cover!



Barker pulls Maya’s shoulder up!

Other Guy: Arrogant move by Ron Barker, letting Maya up.

Jeff Hansen: It’s only arrogant if he’s not going to win, OG, which is obviously not the case.

Joey C: Here, it’s just the superior athlete making sure everybody knows it.

The crowd boos as Barker pulls Maya to his feet once more, but Maya still has some fight left in him! He throws a kick to Barker’s knee, then another, finally sending Barker back to his knees, and pivoting behind him! He puts his feet behind Barker’s knees, and sits down, driving Ron’s back into Maya’s knees! Maya grabs Barker’s arms, crossing them in front, and pulling back as hard as he can! The crowd explodes, as Barker shakes his head violently at Dean’s questions, and Maya pulls back even more! Ron refuses to give, and he’s trying to shake Maya off, but he just doesn’t have the leverage! Maya’s face is turning red with the strain, pulling hard on Ron’s wrists, and when Ron won’t tap, he finally lets go! Barker falls forward, and Maya scoots back to avoid the backlash!

Barker is having trouble, but he staggers to his feet as Maya hops up, still not at 100%, but obviously still able to take to the air. He flies up to the top rope, and SAILS off with a moonsault– caught by Barker! Barker drives Maya’s head to the mat with a tombstone piledriver!

Jeff Hansen: And that is the end of that!

Barker with the cover!



THR– Dean breaks it up!

Maya got a foot on the rope just in time, and now Barker is pissed! He turns around to Dean, who is screaming about the rope, but Barker doesn’t want to listen!

Other Guy: I knew he’d pull through.

Jeff Hansen: Aww, the little gaymo that could, that’s adorable.

Barker looks about ready to punch Willie Dean, but he keeps his composure, and pulls Maya to his feet. He wraps Maya in a T-bone suplex, and sends the smaller man sailing onto the mat! Maya lands on his neck and shoulders, and crumples in a heap! Shinya looks horrified as Barker starts tossing kicks into Maya’s head, before dropping a leg across his throat! Maya’s body goes damn near vertical and Barker is not about to let up! He slaps Maya in the face! Twice! He pulls Maya to his feet and tosses him into the turnbuckles, and Maya hits with a crash! Before he can fall to a seated position, Barker drives a shoulder into his gut! Maya still doesn’t fall, as Barker catches him, pushing him back into the corner and driving a knife-edge chop across his chest! WOO! And another! WOO! Barker winds up, and one more– but nobody’s home! Maya ducks around it, pushing him back into the corner, and jumping up onto the second turnbuckle! He throws punches into Barker’s head, and the crowd counts along! 1! 2! 3! 4! Maya gyrates his hips in front of Barker’s face, and lands number five across Barker’s eyebrow! The crowd explodes as Maya lands to his feet, arms wide!

Joey C: OK, seriously, that is gayer than 8 guys fucking 9 guys.

Maya turns around– charging clothesline from Ron Barker! Barker drops with Maya, immediately throwing punches to Maya’s face! Barker has lost it! Dean is on top of him, trying to pull him away, but Barker ignores him, and continues to lay into Maya! Maya’s putting his hands up, feebly trying to block the blows! Barker finishes up with a headbutt that leaves Maya cold on the mat!

Jeff Hansen: Maya thought he could push Ron’s buttons and get away with it, but Ron Barker shows why he’s the Ravishing One and Maya is… well, not.

Other Guy: And you talk about Maya being gay… you’ve been sucking Ron Barker’s dick for the entire match.

Barker grabs Maya by the head– no! Maya with a double-leg takedown! Maya holds on to Barker’s leg, putting one hand up to rally the crowd, only to get a boot to the face for his efforts! Maya stumbles back to the ropes, and Barker gets back to his feet, sending Maya to the other side! Maya comes back, ducking a clothesline, and Barker turns around… torbellino by Maya! NO! Barker grabs him in mid-revolution, planting him with the Perfection! Barker with the cover!




Samantha Coil: Your winner, at a time of 17 minutes and 15 seconds, RON BARKER!

Jeff Hansen: Ron Barker takes the win, some Japanese queer gets dropped, and all is right with the world.

Joey C: That’ll teach that fucker to piss off Jonny.

Other Guy: Fuck you guys. Seriously, just fuck you guys.

“Cochise” comes back on, and Barker basks in the boos of the crowd as Shinya runs in to check on Maya. Barker turns around, and Shinya holds Maya, trying desperately to protect him. Barker just sneers at him, and turns back around with a scoff, sliding out of the ring.


Barker makes a confident departure, while Shinya begins to help Maya out of the ring. He moves slowly to compensate for Maya’s aches and pains. However, before they make it all the way down the aisle to leave

The lights drop, and the fans begin to buzz with a sort of confused anticipation. "Here It Goes Again" by OK Go hits and the fans explode into cheers!

Jeff Hansen: Are you kidding me?

Joey C: What do these two want out here?

Suddenly an orange lightning bolt shoots from the stage directly to the uppermost corner closest to the ramp, while a silver lightning bolt shoots from the rafters to the top of the lowest post on the opposite side. The sudden bursts of pyro make the fans cheer loudly, as the lights come back up with FLASH Dynamite on the ring apron nearest the ramp, and Kid Lightning perched on top of the opposite ring post, peering out at the sea of fans! They make brief eye contact with Shinya and Maya, but look back away before they notice the tandem bow their heads before making an official exit.

Other Guy: It looks like we’re about to be saved from this…thing you guys call a show, because the superheros are here!

FLASH Dynamite pulls a microphone from the hip of his tights as he steps through the ropes. The music dies down, but the cheers continue.

FLASH Dynamite: We missed you all too.

The cheering fans find a bit of renewed energy as they get a bit louder now. Kid Lightning hops off the top turnbuckle and into the ring, pulling a microphone from the inside of his kickpad, with a grin.

Joey C: Seriously though, how did those guys…well, how did they get there so fast?

Jeff Hansen: Well, you see, Joey. They think they’re superheros. FLASH "ran" and Kid Lightning "flew", and what we saw was a pyro display to make us think they might actually have powers and…

Other Guy: Fuck, just enjoy it Jeff. Damn…

Kid Lightn ing slowly raises his hand, as the cheers die down.

Kid Lightning: We’re sorry we neglected you all. See, we were out there saving real lives with the floods in Iowa. We were out there, saving real lives while Long Island Hardcore was…letting you all down.

FLASH Dynamite: That’s right. Because while we had to take a leave of absence, they assured the world they would free Nova Lynn Jackson. And they failed.

The fans begin to react with confusion, a few even begin to boo.

Jeff Hansen: Ya know…these guys have a point.

Joey C: Of course they do, they wouldn’t lie…they’re superheros.

Kid Lightning: See, we would have done it ourselves. Saved her, I mean…but they were too busy attacking us from behind at every opportunity to allow us to do that. And THEN they tell you all that THEY’LL save her…well guess what? THEY lied!

The fans begin to boo outright now, but the two of them nod.

FLASH Dynamite: That’s right, boo those men. They let us down, they let Nova down, and they let all of you down. We had to return to restore honor to this company. For their lack of ability, frankly, they deserved to have their titles taken from them by Rogue ‘N Riley.

The fans boo louder, and Kid Lightning looks out at them

Kid Lightning: Wait…are you guys booing us?

The fans boo more, giving them their answer in unison.

Kid Lightning: Wait. So, we’re the bad guys? WE’RE the villains to you people?! Are you insanse?! Fine…you wanna boo us?! Huh?! Well FU–!

FLASH Dynamite: FUNNY how that works…we come out here and we tell you the truth. We came out here time and time again defending the weak and incompetent. And yet you villify us now? Where was that pop we got when we came out here? We put our necks on the line, often times literally, fighting for what’s right and now because we tell you that two schmucks from Long Island aren’t half as hardcore as they claim to be…because if they were they would have saved Nova with absolutely no problems…and WE are the evil ones? We’re the ones you boo?

Kid Lightning: That’s fine. We can live with that. We can handle being the face of villainy for you all, because you all need real heroes. Real heroes that will do what is needed to be done, not because it is the popular thing to do but because its right. We were those heroes, and we were loved once. But we will continue to be those heroes, even though you now bathe us in hate. You may jeer us now, SHOOT Project Citizens.

FLASH Dynamite: But we will always be your heroes.

The two of them drop their microphones and "Here it Goes Agaion" by OK Go hits once more, as the fans continue to boo. The two superheroes just shrug their shoulders, accepting the reaction it seems.

Other Guy: What has gotten into these two? This is not how we remember them at all.

Joey C: I like them a lot better now.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah. They’re not whiney. They’re just honest. I like it.

The Flying Avengers slowly make their way up the ramp, bearing the proverbial cross as they hold their heads high in the face of booing fans showering them with profanities and even a little bit of garbage.


Wandering through the corridors of the Thomas and Mack Center, Osbourne Kilminster maintains a steady pace a good six feet or so in front of the Revolution Champion, Sinnocence, and Tim Calahan.

Osbourne Kilminster: …but whatever. I was quite happy to kick that chump Masters out of his little office… but no… You didn’t want his one because it didn’t (gesturing quotation marks) feel right… Come on, let’s just set up some place and get on with this…

Sinnocence: Oh kiss my ass, Ozzy.

She rolls her eyes, slightly adjusting the Revolution title around her waist as they continue to walk. This was the third or so locker room she’d stuck her nose up at. The first one had been too messy, the second one had stunk of horrible BO, and the last one had weird stains on the walls that made her feel like she’d just had to clean up after her four year old. Was a nice clean locker room too much to ask?

Sinnocence: You may be happy with shitholes, but I’m not. You’re with me on this, aren’t you Tim? How much is it to ask? Just some place that doesn’t reek of body odor or have shit stains on the wall!

Super Fan: Well… uh… kinda, yeah. I don’t want to hang around in a dump…

Osbourne spins on his heels, eye-to-eye with a slightly uneasy Calahan for a moment before looking to his lover.

Osbourne Kilminster: All right… All right… Thing is, there’s only one other option…

Tilting his head to the left, he nods backward at the door just down the corridor, a door bearing the sign "ALTERNATES AND TRY-OUTS". Shrugging his shoulders, he looks to Sinn and Calahan for positive or negative reactions.

Sinnocence: Ohhh, the jobber’s lair. This should be fun.

She laughs quickly and opens the door, grinning wider when all the eyes in the room focus on her. Jada turns her head back towards Osbourne.

Sinnocence: Well, it’s your show, Sweetcheeks. Get to it.

Pushing past her, Osbourne steps into the middle of the massive dressing room, noting the three desks against the back wall and considering the possibilities before making eye contact with everybody staring at him and the gleaming gold Iron Fist Championship Belt slung over his shoulder.

Osbourne Kilminster: You know who I am. You know who we are. We want this room, so get out NOW.

His jaw clenches as moments of silence and inactivity pass, impatience getting the better of him as he reaches out to the nearest person, a skinny kid sat on a cheap plastic chair, grabbing him by the hair and spinning, launching him out into the corridor past Sinn and Calahan. He doesn’t have to turn back to see any of the others as the rush to file out the door past him.

Osbourne Kilminster: Looks like we’ve got our office.

He can’t help but smirk as he steps into the massive room, kicking plastic chairs to the sides of the room and pulling the three desks out to make a semi-circle in the middle of the room.

Sinnocence shakes her head and hops up onto one of the desks.

Sinnocence: It still smells in here.

She wrinkles her nose.

Sinnocence: If we’re going to be stuck here, can’t you at least get some air fresheners?

Calahan takes a seat on one of the chairs right next to the door, nudging it with his foot to set it on a slow creaking path to the frame, nodding to Osbourne, who nods back before walking over to Sinnocence, running his hand down her face and neck tenderly.

Osbourne Kilminster: Hey, I’m the big boss… I’ll see what I can do… Just for you.

With a smile, he kisses her softly.

Before the door can CLICK shut, a foot is placed in between the door and the door frame, holding it open. Nova Lynn Jackson pushes her way into the room, motioning behind her for a member of the production crew to follow her inside.

Nova Lynn Jackson: Oh, phew! I was like so confused you guys, but I’m sooo glad I found you…

Nova turns to face the production crew member and waves for the head-setted man to come in more. He obliges and takes a step or two closer, already feeling a sense of dread and not wanting to do something dumb.

Nova Lynn Jackson: Umm there’s like some (Checking with the crew member to make sure she’s saying everything right) "stuff that’s wrong with some like… important stuff…" (She grabs at Kilminster and lowers her voice) Can we please help him. He’s… like… soooo cute with his little earmuffs and stuff! PLEEEEEEASE? He just needs to see Jonny or whatever so it’ll be super easy mac and cheesy!!

Sinn raises an eyebrow from her perch on the desk.

Sinnocence: Jonny’s not here, Sweetheart. He’s holed up in his locker room. We finally found a locker room that doesn’t smell completely of ass…once we get some air fresheners, it should even be a bit more tolerable.

The smile fades a bit as she softly caresses Ozzy’s hand, her mind obviously elsewhere. Osbourne smiles to her before he points to the production guy with his headset and clipboard and then to his feet, summoning the geek into his immediate presence.

Osbourne Kilminster: What’s the problem?

Production Guy: We’ve had some problems with the Tron screen and it’s been a bit hit or miss in testing, so we’re kind of expecting that it might not work properly throughout the show… er… somebody who may or may not be called Terry has misplaced the disc with the lighting program for tonight, so that’s completely fucked up…

Osbourne rolls his eyes and kisses Sinn on the cheek before reluctantly heading over to the door with the production assistant following closely behind.

Osbourne Kilminster: The Tron problem will just have to be one of those things… Some people get their videos and other people don’t, I guess… The lighting? I don’t know a damned thing about anything like that… Don’t you have some kind of default thing with everything pretty much planned out for every show?

Production Guy: It doesn’t exactly work like that…

Osbourne Kilminster: Ugh… For The Gods’ sake… Show me. Take me where I need to be and show me what needs to be done. We’ll sort this thing out.

Looking to Calahan, Osbourne hands him the Iron Fist belt with an expression that informs the Super Fan that his life depends on that belt being kept safe. Looking back to Sinnocence, he mouths the words "back soon" and winks to her before leaving the room.

Nova looks at Sinnocence, then to Calahan, then back to Sinnocence.

Nova Lynn Jackson: The show changes every week, they can’t be expected to, like, have a generic show plan. That sorta, ya know, makes no sense. Why is everyone so stressed out? Oh! Sinnybuns, did you hear what happened the other night? I think I made Riley really mad at me.

The Revolution champion takes off her belt and shakes her head.

Sinnocence: Yeah well, when Jonny decides to get all hermity on his show, it leaves Ozzy in charge and he’s more about kicking ass than lighting plans.

She chuckles and shakes her head, putting the belt down on the desk next to her.

Sinnocence: Don’t get hurt, Sweetcheeks. I’d hate to have to kick our own stable-mate’s ass.


The cameras shift backstage to the hallway passing by the Sons of Liberty locker room. The door opens as ‘Nightmare’ Jonathon Wehali emerges, dressed in jeans and a SHOOT Project Enigma t-shirt. His features are impassive, but the anger is easily discerned in his eyes before he dons his Gargoyle sunglasses.

Suddenly a voice calls out from down the hallway.

Eryk Masters: Jon! Jonathon! Nightmare! A moment of your time please??

Jon clenches his jaw shifts to regard Eryk as he runs towards him. Jonathon says nothing, waiting for Eryk to state his business.

Eryk Masters: Nightmare, people are wanting to know what your frame of mind is after having to retire your friend Eli Storm in last week’s JONNYlution’s main event.

Jon removes his shades, glaring at Eryk as if silently asking ‘just what kind of moron ARE you anyway?’ His empty hand clenches into a fist as he forces himself to remain calm.

Nightmare: What my frame of mind is? What my frame of mind is?? What, do you expect me to say I’m demoralized? That I’ve lost all hope? That I feel uhhh a certain uhhh fuckrash with a speech impediment has won??

He snarls, his rage beginning to push through his carefully-maintaned calm facade.

Nightmare: I’ll tell you what’s going through my mind. Eli refused to fight last week. Sure, it may have seemed like he did to some, but those people are blind. Eli sacrificed himself. He threw himself upon his sword rather than put up an actual fight. He disrespected me and the fans by doing that… but I understand. He’s tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of losing. Tired of all the bull shit that’s running rampant through this company. Now that he’s finished his business with Caldwell Eli’s going to make things right with his family, and I wish him the best of luck with that.

But if he thinks he did the noble thing… the right thing… he needs to think again. He did the easy thing. He gave up. He fled the war, leaving the rest of us in his wake to continue fighting.

And, trust me, fight we will. We will continue fighting until there is no one left standing to fight.

When all hope is gone, we will continue to battle.

We will not run. We will not hide. We will not surrender. For there can be no retreat, no surrender.

Victory or defeat is all that can be, and it will be absolute. To give any ground merely encourages the Defiler and his goons.

What is my frame of mind, Eryk? Damn dangerous.

Masters allows a moment to pass to accentuate the power of Nightmare’s words.

Eryk Masters: So, rather than being crushed as he’d hoped, Jonny Johnson has only pissed you off?

Nightmare stares straight ahead, as though wishing to send a message to the World Champion.

Nightmare: Damn right, which is why I’m leaving before I do something rash.

I want Johnson and his lackeys to be aware of one thing, however.

They’re not as safe as they think they are.

They are not invincible. They can and will be hurt.

Yes, hope is an illusion… but for whom?

Jon flicks his Gargoyles back on, brushing past Eryk as he heads down the hallway, leaving Masters to stare after him.


cade sydal vs roland caldwel vs conor caden

Coming back to the ring area, Conor Caden is already in the ring, though no music is playing. He paces back and forth, shaking his head with an apathetic yet oddly scathing expression on his face.

Jeff Hansen: During that last string of segments we were joined by Conor Caden, the first of three men to come out to the ring for our next match up.

Joey C.: Triple threat time, and it’s just the way I like it. No count outs no disqualification, and the winner is the only guy left remainin’ in this match up.

Other Guy: Yeah and Conor ain’t exactly smiling about this situation tonight, that’s for sure.

Jeff Hansen: Maybe just a TAD bit upset as for this one he will officially be billed as “currently in the ring” and in this business that’s usually not so good.

Joey C.: Yeah PLUS production cut his music. Guess Conor’s gotta learn to keep his yap shut.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

The bell sounds and now the fans settle in, coming to realize in full that Conor is in fact in the ring.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, this next match up is a No Count Out No Disqualification Triple Threat match, and will be fought under elimination rules. Introducing first, currently in the ring, and weighing in at 197 pounds, here is Conor Caden!!!

The fans don’t respond much, but those who do react, do so with a chorus of boos. Conor continues to pace, every so often stopping and looking towards the entryway. The booing only gets louder the second “Summer Overture-Remix” by Clint Mansell begins to play throughout the Thomas and Mack Center. The Revolution video screen shows the image of The Family posing for a portrait, but a slow zoom in focuses in on Roland Caldwell’s face. From there clips of Roland in action are seen in black and white, and after a loop of violent shots are shown, Caldwell emerges from the back.

Samantha Coil: and introducing next, weighing in at 289 pounds, he is one member of The Family… here is Roland Caldwell!!!

Roland’s eyes are narrowed and the thick white bandage is wrapped on an angle around his head, overlapping part of his right eye. He stomps slowly towards the ring, a very lost look in his eyes.

Jeff Hansen: Roland sporting many a scar from that beating he took in the I Quit Match against Eli Storm, but at the end of the day it was Eli Storm who was forced to quit SHOOT Project FOR GOOD!

Joey C.: Yeah Roland just got some scars, but Stormy got himself a pink slip, all thanks to his friend Nightmare. What a pal that guy turned out to be.

Other Guy: Like he had a choice.

Jeff Hansen: He did, Nightmare could have taken the fall, BUT that’s old news and bottom line is Roland IN SHOOT Project, Eli Storm… not.

As Roland approaches the ring, Conor stops pacing and stays positioned in the lower right corner of the ring. He just watches Roland walk up the steel steps in the upper left corner. Roland stops right there, and glares across the ring at Conor before entering the ring by stepping in between the middle and top rope. Once inside the ring Roland raises one arm high into the air, fist closed tightly, and the boos resonate.

Other Guy: Roland was a scary cat prior to this match up, but after last week’s video we saw of him, he upped the fright factor a couple notches.

Jeff Hansen: Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you and Roland have a bit of a past, OG? I know that’s your thing, speaking out against people from the comfort of your little table here. Got anything you want to say to Roland now?

Joey and Jeff laugh collectively. Roland’s music cuts out and for a moment there is nothing but the general buzz from the crowd.

Rape me

Rape me, my friend

Rape me

Rape me again

The blip of Nirvana’s “Rape Me” abruptly cuts out and now “Broken Bones” by nonpoint begins to play and the slightly confused crowd rebounds quickly with loud cheering as the Revolution Video screen explodes to life with action shots of Cade Sydal, looped together with the symbol of the dragon that has come to be associated with Cade. Words like Technical Messiah and Teen Idol flash on the screen as well and then as red and white pyros shoot up in alternating pattern, Cade Sydal BURSTS from the back!


The fans go nuts to see Cade walk quickly out to the ring. Cade nods his head as he acknowledges the crowd, and tags a few hands as he walks down the long ramp way to the ring.

Samantha Coil: And introducing the third competitor, weighing in tonight at 179 pounds, here is Cade Sydal!!!

Sydal picks up the pace and leaps up onto the ring edge, holding onto the rope as he turns his body slightly to the side. He looks out to the fans in one direction, then the other. He nods his head with a smile and then vaults over the top rope.

Other Guy: Cade feelin’ it tonight, guys. Looks like Jonny’s attempts to demoralize him last week did in fact fail.

Jeff Hansen: It’s just an act. Cade is definitely hurting on the inside because that’s where the voice is that keeps telling him he’s a failure.

Joey C.: Yep, Cade’s a born loser, Other Guy. I mean when he came to TTW he hid under a mask… he’s THAT bad.

Other Guy: Right, he’s horrible. That’s why he put on a hell of a performance last week, that’s why Jonny had HIS production call of the match because he didn’t want Worrens and Sydal stealin’ the show. But you two are right. Cade’s a failure.

Jeff Hansen: It’s nice to see you finally come around. You heard it first, Other Guy finally admits that Cade Sydal is a failure.

With all three men in the ring, sizing each other up, it’s clear to everyone that Roland has the overall height and weight advantage. He looms in the upper left corner while Cade stands slightly out of the lower left corner, leaving Conor on the opposite side of the ring, eyes darting back and forth between Cade and Roland.

Joey C.: this ain’t gonna be an easy fight for Conor OR Cade tonight, but then again these three guys probably want the pain.

Jeff Hansen: They wouldn’t be suicidal if they didn’t Joey. And on that note, we here on Jonnylution want to remind everyone that we don’t in fact condone suicide, but it’s an ugly truth we have to face.

Other Guy: Christ… you’re an ass you know.

Jeff Hansen: The competitors set for this elimination style triple threat match and Joey, got an early favorite?

Joey C.: Roland Caldwell without a doubt, Jeff. The guy’s a loose cannon and is all about ending lives including his own. I say he eliminates the two lightweights and probably eliminates himself in the process, what with the existin’ head injury and all.

Referee Ron Wellington quickly checks all three competitors in and with Samantha Coil safely out of the ring, the bell is called for. Ringside timekeeper, Mark Kendrick clangs the bell and Cade SNAPS out of his corner and immediately rushes in at Roland! Roland absorbs Cade’s quick low kicks to the legs, and then quickly shoves Cade back with a great deal of force.

Cade keeps his balance, but Conor charges up from behind, lunging with a double axe handle to the back of the head that sends Cade down onto his palms and knees. Conor STOMPS down on Cade’s back, flattening him out, and then Conor drops a quick elbow to the back of Cade’s head. He rolls off and springs up to his feet, but Roland right there with a hard punch that knocks Conor immediately to the mat. Conor rubs at his face for a moment but gets back up. At this moment Roland’s eyes seem wild and he starts tugging at the bandage around his head.

Jeff Hansen: Roland could have capitalized there on either Cade or Conor but I guess is opting to take his frustrations out on the bandage wrapped around his head.

Joey C.: I don’t get the strategy one bit, Jeff.

Conor moves in at Roland and starts nailing him with quick punches, anything to start wearing the bigger man down. Roland reels very slightly from the contact and now Cade is up and instead of going after Conor, he joins in on attacking Roland! The crowd picks up a little bit as Roland is worked into the upper left corner, and at that moment Roland completely RIPS the bandage from his head, leaving the bloodied scabbed up wounds exposed!

Roland Caldwell: HIT ME WHERE IT COUNTS!

Roland points to his face as Cade continues to kick at Roland while Conor winds up and NAILS a stiff jumping punch RIGHT to Roland’s forehead! Roland’s head snaps back, and Conor shakes his fist slightly, noticing the blood that dots his knuckles.

Other Guy: And how sick is this, Roland lookin’ to be hit where those scars are, he wants to be busted open all over again!

Cade and Conor both take Roland by the arms and send him down into the lower right corner of the ring. He hits sternum first but as Conor runs, Roland snaps around immediately and NAILS him with a vicious clothesline!

Jeff Hansen: Conor Caden turned inside out, but at least he showed courage unlike who Sydal who opted to stay back.

Conor writhes on the mat in pain and Cade cautiously approaches Roland. Roland moves towards him quickly, but Cade dodges his outreaching arms, and charges into the ropes behind him. Roland turns around and Cade thinks wisely about going off the ropes to attack. He hooks his arm, stopping his momentum and taunts Roland to come at him. Roland doesn’t even hesitate, but as he charges, CONOR OUT OF NOWHERE WITH A SPRING UP SIDE HEEL KICK!

The shot NAILS Roland square in the jaw, causing him to stumble back. Now Cade charges at Roland, but as he goes to capitalize, Conor grabs him from behind, drops down for a quick elimination roll up!



Cade kicks out and the fans cheer with relief. Conor pulls Cade up off the mat though, choosing to focus on him, only for Cade to break from Conor’s attempted grapple and shove Conor back. Conor comes at Cade again, and Cade side steps, wraps his own leg around Conor’s leg, then whips both their bodies back with a quick Russian Leg Sweep! Cade floats over from there for a cover. Wellington makes the count.



And the bodies go flying!

Jeff Hansen: That’s something you don’t see everyday. Roland just recklessly colliding with the bodies of Sydal and Conor. I guess its true what they say, those cruiserweights can really fly.

Joey C.: And in Sydal’s case he flew RIGHT out of the ring.

Conor’s body is half out of the ring, half on the mat, while Cade is crumpled up on the outside floor, rocking back and forth in pain. Roland is up to his feet and he maliciously boots Conor in the side, sending him rolling to the outside as well. Roland exits the ring, continuing his current dominance over both men. He focuses in on Cade, lifting him up to his full vertical base only to spin around and SLAM Sydal head first into the ring edge. Cade bounces back, staggering and Roland scoops him up, looking for a power slam, but as Conor is up, Roland instead uses Cade as a battering ram and LAUNCHES him into Conor!

Both Conor and Cade fall back down onto the floor and Roland suddenly pulls himself up onto the ring edge, and without care or concern DIVES straight down onto the floor with a FLYING HEADBUTT!

Cade rolls out of the way just in time, but Roland finds his mark with Conor’s shoulder. Roland rolls off in one direction, clutching his head, while Conor tilts to the side, pulling his left arm in close to his body, all the while wincing in pain.

Other Guy: This didn’t take long to get into the realm of brutal.

Jeff Hansen: And this is just the beginning, it is most certainly shaping up to be a violent night here on Jonnylution!

The fans buzz with shock as they take in the car wreck like atmosphere outside of the ring. Conor and Roland on the floor, Cade trying to get back up to his feet, but stumbling about in pain. Finally he steadies himself though and grabs Conor, opting to fight against the man more his size. He rolls Conor into the ring and slides in after him as well. Cade has no qualms about making a cover attempt and Wellington makes the count.



TH… kick out by Conor who pushes up mostly from his right side. Cade up quick to his feet this time, however and pulls Conor up and whips him across the ring. Conor comes bouncing back, and Cade LEAPS with a well executed calf kick that drops Conor back down onto the mat. Cade with another cover.



THREE… No! Conor just able to kick out again.

Joey C.: Looks to me like Cade’s a little antsy to get this thing over with, ya know?

Jeff Hansen: Yet another sign that Cade Sydal ultimately doesn’t have the drive, will power, or stamina to really hang in this fight, or in SHOOT Project all together.

Other Guy: Obviously you ain’t see this man’s iron man matches against the likes of Ron Barker and OutKast.

Jeff Hansen: More obvious is I don’t care. What has Cade done for us lately… the answer is nothing.

Cade shakes his head with a slight sense of frustration, but keeps going, sizing up Conor now, but he is forced to shift his focus as Roland slides into the ring and rises to his full vertical base. His forehead is covered in fresh blood, as well as bits and pieces of caked on dried blood as well… making for a horrific sight. Cade moves after Roland, and for a third time goes for the quick kick approach… but THIS time Roland is ready!

He captures Cade’s leg and then places his hand firmly around Cade’s neck… HE LIFTS and WHIPS his body around, sending Cade FLYING into the upper right hand corner post. Cade slumps down, arms dangling over the top ropes and Roland charges with a standing body splash! Roland keeps his body pinned up against Cade and then starts WAILING on him with blunt headbutts to the head and body!

Joey C.: That’s usin’ the old noggin!

Other Guy: I can’t believe you just said that.

Joey C.: Hey on this night you don’t tell me how to do my job!

Cade is beaten down into a sitting position and now Roland takes his boot and WEDGES it under Cade’s chin, choking the life out of him as he presses hard. Wellington has to simply watch on, powerless to call Roland off.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! “YOU SUCK!” the crowd gets riled up at this point as Cade is seen gasping for breath and Roland doesn’t look like he’s about to pull back. Conor gets back into the match now and with Roland’s back to him, he seizes a golden opportunity…



Jeff Hansen: Roland stays standing and I’m guessing that right now Conor’s probably thinking, I shouldn’t have done this.

Roland has both feet planted back down on the mat and he grabs Conor from in between his legs, YANKING him through and up to his feet with a tight grip around the neck. Roland lifts up, but Conor smashes his forearm against Roland’s preventing himself from being choke slammed. Roland’s eyes narrow as Conor backs up quickly, staying out of harms way…


Jeff Hansen: What an outstanding move from The Defiler’s kid cousin, Jason Riley!

Other Guy: He hit him with a chair…

Jeff Hansen: All in the presentation, OG. Riley waiting for the right time and then sneaks in out of nowhere!

Conor arches forward in pain and Riley looks about ready to take his head right off, but from the entryway LD Lester and Art De Luca SPRINT down to the ring. Riley winds up… De Luca hits the ring and removes the chair from Riley’s hands. Riley doesn’t even bother to turn around; he darts to the side and scrambles out of the ring. De Luca and Lester give chase…

And inside the ring Conor is HOISTED up onto Roland’s shoulders. The crowd not happy… SNAP INVERTED DDT!

Other Guy: With the assist from Riley, Roland nails The Burning Hammer… son of a bitch…

Jeff Hansen: Big Conor fan are ya, OG?

Other Guy: No, just not a Roland fan.

Joey C.: I am a fan of anyone who is bigger than me… for obviously smart reasons.

With Conor planted on the mat Roland makes a firm cover. Wellington drops and makes the count.



Jeff Hansen: Goodnight Conor.


Wellington makes the signal, calling for the elimination.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, Conor Caden has been eliminated!

Conor is aided out of the ring by the referee as well as on hand ring crew who wait on the outside. Wellington then turns his focus back to the match at hand.

Roland is up on his knees, turning slightly as he looks to stand all the way up, but Cade giving him no time to pause as out of nowhere he hits the up ring ropes and BOLTS at Roland from behind! Cade hooks him for the bulldog take down, but Roland stands straight up and SHOVES Cade backwards… Cade flips but lands on his feet and SNAPS off a sitting dropkick to the small of Roland’s back! Roland awkwardly jerks forward from the impact only to turn around with a sickening smile on his face.

The crowd buzzes with concern as Roland SPRINTS with surprising speed, looking for a yakuza kick to Cade, but Cade twists his body around to the side, wraps both his legs around Roland’s planted foot and TRIPS him up with a quick drop toe hold! Roland’s knee hits the mat HARD as he couldn’t quite pull his leg in all the way. Roland GROWLS in pain as he lunges upwards immediately, limping slightly though from the impact. He turns and Cade is putting on the speed now as he LEAPS with a low angled dropkick to the injured knee and Roland collapses to the mat.

Other Guy: Cade really fightin’ back now, and I guess you’d still say he doesn’t have the stamina and courage to prevail, eh Jeff?

Jeff Hansen: Well this match takes on a whole different meaning when its down to one on one. The fact remains that Sydal doesn’t have the wherewithal to handle pressure situations. If Roland makes any sort of a comeback here, Cade’s done for.

Roland grinds his teeth but continues to glare at Cade, beckoning for him to hurt him more. Cade approaches quickly and spins with a HARD kick to the side of the head! Spit mixed with dripping blood FLIES from Roland’s mouth as he is knocked to the side, landing shoulder first onto the mat. Cade makes a cover now… THE FANS ON THEIR FEET!!

Other Guy: C’mon Cade!



NO! A POWERFUL kick out from Roland who press pushes Cade off to the side. Cade is up though, and despite a look of disbelief on his face, he continues on the aggressive, charging at the ropes to the side. He picks up speed, but Roland stands up and Cade has to change up his game plan as he LEAPS and WHIPS his body out at the same time… SPINNING CORKSCREW DOUBLE AXE HANDLE FROM THE SIDE!

Joey C.: What? We in the matrix now or something?

Other Guy: That was a damn impressive move and you know it.

Jeff Hansen: Okay… okay… don’t get your panties in a bunch OG, Cade did pull of a crazy move, that make you feel better?

The crowd has come alive as Roland is on the mat and Cade springs RIGHT back up to his feet! Chants of Cade’s name echo throughout the Thomas and Mack Arena and now Cade goes to the outside and flips up the ring apron. From underneath he grabs a steel chair and tosses it into the ring. Then a second one… tosses THAT into the ring. It doesn’t stop, Cade reaches under and pulls out a THIRD CHAIR… and then A FOURTH ONE!

Other Guy: Four chairs have made their way in the ring and I think Cade’s got every intent of usin them!

Jeff Hansen: Oh you think? Wow, seriously OG where did you go to broadcast school?

Other Guy: At least I went and didn’t get in due to being Ed Raymond’s brother. That’s right I can take smarky shots too.

Roland stirs up to his feet as Cade slides back into the ring and immediately grabs one of the chairs. Without a single bit of hesitation Cade CRACKS the chair right across Roland’s face sending Roland right back down onto the mat. From there Cade turns and wedges the chair into the lower left corner. He grabs the second chair… winds up… and SMASHES it across Roland’s back! Then Cade turns to the upper left corner and places the second chair there.

Other Guy: I see where this is goin’ now. Cade bringin’ a little bit of his very own Teen Idol deathmatch into play!

Despite taking two wicked chair shots, Roland starts to get up again. Cade grabs the third chair, and just as Roland is up, Cade CHUCKS it at Roland’s body! Roland staggers back; almost dropping to one knee and Cade puts the third chair in the upper right corner. Roland regains his composure and bends down for the fourth chair, but Cade coming right back… PUNTS Roland in the face, grabs the fourth chair instead and SPIKES it down onto the back of Roland’s head! Roland drops to his palms and knees and Cade puts the fourth chair into the lower right corner!

Jeff Hansen: So Cade puts all four chairs to work, but seems odd that a guy who heralds himself as the technical messiah would have to go this route.

Other Guy: It’s no DQ, no count out, Cade’s just bringin’ the no DQ to Roland before he brings it back.

Cade grabs Roland now and with a slight struggle pulls him up to his feet and holds him in a side headlock. He cranks the neck then points to the lower left corner of the ring. The crowd picks up and Cade runs full force, but Roland SOMEHOW comes back into things and SHOVES Cade forward, looking to send him into the chair. Roland charges right after behind him, but Cade LEAPS up to the top turnbuckle and FLIPS backwards while kicking his legs out and he sends Roland CRASHING top of the head first into the wedged steel chair! Roland slumps to his knees, head now where the chair was, chair now tilted sideways. Cade gets pumped, shouting at Roland to get up. Roland stirs… not fully getting up, and now Cade goes to the corner and actually takes the steel chair out of the upper left corner and unfolds it.

Joey C.: What’s Cade got in store now?

Other Guy: The guy’s as innovative as they come, so ya know it’s gonna be good.

Cade sets the chair up so that the seat part is facing him. He keeps his focus on Roland as he backs up… then SPRINTS. Once again the crowd gets behind him as Cade uses the chair as a stepping stool to LAUNCH off from! Cade FLIES through the air…

Roland pushes himself up and turns around, Catching Cade and then HE POWERBOMBS HIM DOWN ONTO THE MAT!

Jeff Hansen: High risk succumbs to huge impact and that could be it right here!

Roland has Cade pinned from the powerbomb position and Wellington makes the count.



THRE… NO! Roland lifts Cade up… still holding him in the powerbomb position! The fans begin to boo loudly as Roland displays his strength by holding Cade up while he walks, right in front of the chair.

Jeff Hansen: Just in case Cade didn’t feel it the first time, Roland’s giving us all a replay, this time the steel chair looking to come into play.

Roland looks for the powerbomb, but Cade whips his body down, trying for a hurricanrana, but Roland DOESN’T BUDGE! This doesn’t bode well and Roland starts to laugh, almost to near insanity and he shakes his head back and forth a bunch while bending slightly over… letting his blood DRIP down all over Cade’s face!

Other Guy: That’s just damn disgusting right there.

Cade shields his face as he dangles upside down, and Roland seems to get woozy for a moment, swaying slightly. However he regains his position and looks to lift Cade BACK up but as he does Cade JUST grabs two of the chairs four legs and sloppily sends it upwards… SMASHING Roland partially in the face and upper torso! Roland loses his grip on Cade and drops him down onto the shoulders and upper back, the opened chair now around Roland’s head and neck.

Cade writhes on the mat in pain, hurting a great deal from the impact of the powerbomb moments ago, while Roland after being dazed, takes the chair from around his neck and throws it down onto the mat. He then focuses on Cade who rolls over onto his stomach and starts pushing up off the mat.

Jeff Hansen: Roland has a look in his eyes, we could see a repeat of the Burning Hammer right here and now, claiming its second victim of the night, in addition to claiming a victory in this triple threat elimination.

Joey C.: Which means I’d have made the right pick, and that’s good because I hate bein’ wrong.

Roland grabs Cade by the shoulder and yanks him quickly off the feet, only to CLUB him directly in the back of the head. Cade stumbles forward a great deal; falling neck first into the top rope and Roland stays right after him, clubbing him a second time, this time in the middle of the back. Blood covers a good portion of Roland’s face at this juncture, but he couldn’t care less as he turns Cade around, pushing him up against the ropes and then DRILLS him with a punch straight to the sternum. Cade curls up, dropping to a point where he sits on the second rope and Roland just pushes him backwards with a foot to the chest, and now Cade dangles across the middle rope, half his body hanging out of the ring. Roland walks slowly to the upper left corner of the ring and ascends to the top rope, but to

the chagrin of the sold out crowd.

Jeff Hansen: This is a big moment for a man of Roland’s size, as he’s saying “hey Cade, I can do high risk too!”

With Roland up top, Cade beneath him… he LEAPS with a top rope leg drop, but at the last possible second, Cade grabs the top rope, lifts his body up and Roland CRASHES to the floor next to the ring! His eyes go wide in pain, and Roland clutches at his lower back.

Other Guy: He can do it, sure, but anyone can jump from the top rope, it’s a matter of hittin’ the target, and Roland crashed and burned…. But here comes CADE!!!

The crowd has NO time to process as Cade LEAPS through the ropes, SUICIDE DIVE!!! Cade CRASHES right into the side of Roland and both men spill to the outside, with Cade rolling after the collision and then he’s right back up to his feet. Roland is on his back now, writhing in pain. Cade grabs Roland by the arm, a lot of Roland’s blood on Cade’s body at this juncture, but he presses on lifting Roland half way up, resting his head on the ring edge. Cade then focuses on the lower body, specifically the legs, and with the strength he can muster he lifts Roland up just enough to shove him into the ring. Roland starts to stir, looking to sit up and Cade slides in the ring and moves clear across the mat to the upper right corner. He grabs the third chair. Roland continues to fight past the pain, however, and he rises to his feet, his body shaking violently.

Joey C.: Is he… is Roland laughing, Jeff?

Jeff Hansen: I think he might just be. And what a mind fuck THAT has to be. Here Cade is trying to do whatever he can to win right now, and Roland’s laughing it off like a joke.

Cade grips the chair tightly and just as Roland turns to face him, Cade CHUCKS the chair at him again, but Roland’s reflexes kick in and he catches the chair. The once excited crowd seems to die abruptly, but before Roland can do anything else with the chair, Cade is right in front of him…NINJAGURAI!!!!

Other Guy: Oh hell yes! Cade fires off that match ending kick, and I gotta say this one is over!

Roland is down, Cade scrambles over and makes the cover.


The fans echo one!


The fans echo two!


Other Guy: That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, fellas. Cade Sydal, surviving this three way elimination match and takin home a victory.

The bell sounds and immediately “Broken Bones” begins to play once again.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, Roland Caldwell has been eliminated and therefore the winner of this match… CADE SYDAL!!!

The fans are on their feet cheering loudly as Cade slowly rolls out of the ring, and once he has some distance between himself and Roland, he takes the time to celebrate. Cade lifts his arms over his head, nodding as he takes in the crowd’s support, but the smile on his face fades as he sees Roland stirring in the ring… and then he pushes up off the mat just slightly, eyes completely wild and a grin running from ear to ear. The blood continues to drip down onto the mat below him, and once more his body shakes violently.

Jeff Hansen: Cade Sydal survived this triple threat elimination match up with the help of some steel chairs, but from the looks of things, Roland Caldwell hasn’t been taken out. And that’s scary.

Joey C.: No kiddin. He gets the shit kicked outta him in an I Quit Match, then takes more of a beatin’ tonight, but he’s still conscious enough to laugh.

Other Guy: The guy’s gotta be just mentally numb to the concept of pain at this point.

Cade stares at Roland long and hard, but then turns around, as if expecting an attack from behind. There is nobody and Cade just shakes his head. The camera cuts from him and focuses on the bloodied, laughing/coughing face of Roland.

Jeff Hansen: So Cade gets the victory, but the eyes of Roland suggest that maybe… this is just the beginning. Cade’s win here tonight could have been the WORST thing to happen to him.

After a moment of focusing on Roland, the focus cuts away from the ring all together.


Backstage in the annexed office of the Defiler’s crew, Sinnocence and Nova sit alone. The older beauty sitting behind Nova, meticulously pulling the younger woman’s lovely hair back into an elaborate french braid. Ozzy was running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off…trying to keep JONNYlution from falling apart since it’s namesake was still holed up and refusing to come out of his self-induced hermitage.

Sinnocence: So tell me what happened with Riley, Sweetcheeks.

Nova keeps her head straight, even though Sinnocence’s magic hands make her want to curl up in a ball and purr.

Nova Lynn Jackson: Well, ya know how we’re booked this week and stuff, right? Well, you and Ozzy leaving me out made me kinda sad, and I hadn’t seen Jonny in a long time, and I hadn’t had a drink in a long time, so, ya know, I went out for a drink, right?

Girls know not to move their heads when they’re being braided, so she doesn’t nod her head. Nova gestures with her hands, holding her palms out, welcoming Audience Participation on her Friend’s part. Sinnocence laughs softly, smoothing out a portion of Nova’s hair.

Sinnocence: I know, Darling. So you went out, wanted a drink…and he just showed up?

Nova Lynn Jackson: Yeah! He just, like, appeared! And totally bitched me out, you know Riley, he had a total tantrum! I mean, I was working on getting blasted, but I hadn’t gotten there yet, so like, I was courageous but not stumbling, right? I love that phase of drunk, it’s so much fun! So, I punched him in the face twice because he was being a little BITCH…

She takes one perfectly manicured fist and punches the palm of her other hand twice, just in case Sinnocence had never heard of punching and needs the example. Nova takes a deep breath to calm herself down, before continuing her gossip.

Nova Lynn Jackson: …and then he told me that Jonny was waiting outside, and he led me to an ally, and yelled at me, and then he kissed me, and I was pretty tipsy and I hadn’t been laid since, like, Jared, so I kissed back!

Nova pauses in a happy daydream.

Nova Lynn Jackson: I love skirts! They’re such a better idea than pants!

Quite suddenly, the door opens and is slammed shut by a frustrated Osbourne Kilminster, shaking his head as he makes his way over to Sinnocence. Calahan sits up in his seat, wondering what’s going on, watching Osbourne closely as he takes a seat on the desk next to the Revolution Champion.

Osbourne Kilminster: Ugh. If it can go wrong, it IS going wrong or HAS gone wrong already. Damned show…

Nova doesn’t move her head as Sinnocence keeps braiding, just turning her head to the Iron Fist champion.

Sinnocence: Murphy’s Law, love. Why don’t you drag Jonny out of his locker room? It’s JONNYlution, for fuck’s sake, not OZZYlution.

Osbourne Kilminster: Oh come on… Not YOU as well… Jonny’s got a big match later on and he just needs some time to get ready for it, you know? Psych himself up and whatnot. I’m just doing him a favour… Besides… We’re in charge, tonight… Me and you…

With a grin, he leans in to kiss her on the cheek. The stripper finishes up Nova’s lovely new hairdo and ties off the end with a hair rubber.

Sinnocence: There, now you’re even more beautiful. Hey Nova…why don’t you go grab yourself something to drink? I need to talk with Ozzy.

Nova Lynn Jackson: Oo, I’m pretty! And it’s all ’cause of you! You know you’re amazing, right? Ok, soda-pop time for Nova!

The lovely ditsy girl with her newly braided hair gets up from her seat and bounces out of the room, as Sinn gives SHOOT’s resident SuperFan a glare. He begrudgingly gets up out of his seat and follows her out, leaving SHOOT’s power couple alone. Jada Kaine turns to her lover, a frown on her face.

Sinnocence: Look…I understand doing him a favor, but his whole show is falling apart and he’s hiding in his locker room. If he can’t handle the stress of a big match and being in a position of power, it makes him look weak. The last thing a World Champion needs to do is look weak. Trust me, I’ve been in those shoes before.

She sighs again and squeezes his hand, giving him a wicked grin.

Sinnocence: However, I do like being in charge.

He squeezes her hand and smiles a little.

Osbourne Kilminster: You’re not the only one here who’s done the World Champion thing before. A long, long time ago, I was up there. People deal with that stress differently and Jonny’s done a lot for me… for us… I want to stick by him. It’s a one-off deal and…

Leaning in toward her, he touches his lips to hers, staring into her eyes.

Osbourne Kilminster:…and we should make the most of it.

Sinnocence: Yes…we should.

Osbourne pulls away just before their lips meet, a frown on his face.

Osbourne Kilminster: I can’t leave it like it is out there… We should do something about it…

Sinnocence: I suppose we have to now.

She pulls out of his embrace and heads for the door, making sure the Revolution title is secured around her waist.

Sinnocence: Shall we?

Osbourne smiles as he picks up his Iron Fist Championship belt, draping it proudly over his shoulder, making his way over to the door and taking his lover’s hand as they head out into the corridor.

Osbourne Kilminster: This is all so much simpler when all you have to think about is the next face you have to push your fist into…

Sinnocence: You’re telling me.

She gives his hand a squeeze and follows him out the corridor, flipping the long braid of raven hair behind her back.

Osbourne Kilminster: I hope Josh is cool with this… The last thing I want is for him to get annoyed with us or get all stressed-out about this stuff when he has the match coming up, but he’s the only guy who can ahndle this stuff… Besides…

Halting, he turns to face Sinn, cupping her face in his free hand.

Osbourne Kilminster: …we do this, get this all sorted out and then we can have some ‘alone time’ before the match… maybe?

The stripper frowns, putting her hand over his. She’s obviously irritated at the thought of Jonny not taking care of his own mess, but gives her lover a half smile.

Sinnocence: We can only hope. Now let’s get this over with.

Osbourne sucks in a deep breath and takes his hand from her face, turning slightly and rapping his knuckles on the door bearing the SHOOT Project logo with the simple words "REAL DEAL" super-imposed over it.

Real Deal: Yeah, come in.

Real Deal looks over the panel of a Lenovo S10 laptop, at Osbourne Kilminster, who opens the door and asserts himself in the room. Sinnocence also enters the room, standing slightly behind her Viking. She lets out a heavy sigh and nods to SHOOT’s CEO, but chooses to remain silent for a moment.

Osbourne Kilminster: Er… I don’t know if you two have met properly… Josh, this is Jada… Jada, this is Josh… he’s the guy who knows how to run the show.

Real Deal looks at the woman holding the Revolution Championship in front of him, but his ears perked up at ‘guy who knows how to run the show.’ He shuts the laptop lid now, to better address the duo.

Real Deal: We haven’t met formally, no, but I’ve obviously seen the girl’s work. You’ve done well for yourself. Both of you have. But… I just heard something about ‘the guy who knows how to run the show?’ Did I hear that correctly?

Osbourne takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows.

Osbourne Kilminster: There’s a couple of problems out there. Jonny’s holed himself up in his locker room to prepare for the match, so he hasn’t exactly been available to do much aside from that…

He can already feel his lover’s eyes burning into him as he mentions Jonny…

Osbourne Kilminster: There’s something wrong with the Tron screen and one of those interns has lost the disc with the lighting effects… I went out to the production truck to try and sort it all out but, man, the problems just keep on coming and I’m out of my league with that stuff. I don’t want to be bothering you tonight when you’ve got your match coming up… but I don’t know what the Hell to do… and you could probably sort that stuff out in a heartbeat.

The raven-haired beauty forces herself to smile. Thankfully, neither Ozzy nor Real Deal take notice.

Sinnocence: Thank you for the compliment. We would greatly appreciate whatever help you could provide, Mr. Johnson.

Real Deal sighs, and pulls out his cell.

Real Deal: Sorry about this guys. Oh, and uhh don’t call me Mr. Johnson. Josh or Real Deal is fine. (Into the receiver) Yeah, get me the moron in charge of the production truck.

He waits.

Real Deal: Okay so what’s going on? (Listening) The video wall is fucked up? Why? (He puts his hand over the mouthpiece) You say Jonny’s holed up in his lockerroom? Any idea why or what?

Kilminster shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

Osbourne Kilminster: Not really. He hasn’t spoken to anybody – not even Rogue and Riley, so I don’t know eactly why, but I put it down to just getting ready for the big match you two have tonight.

Sinnocence: He’s just trying to wrap his mind around the idea of teaming someone as great as you, Josh. Lord knows he’s not the only one that would do that in that position.

She smiles wider.

Sinnocence: He trusts us to get everything running smoothly, but like Oz said, we’re a bit out of our league…and would love it if you could help out.

Real Deal shrugs.

Real Deal: (Still holding his hand over the receiver, but listening) I find your tone a bit mocking, Jada, but I’ll ignore it for now. I’m certain that he’s not so much concerned about teaming WITH me, but who we’re AGAINST. Either way…

Real Deal stops as a result of the things he’s hearing over his cellphone. His eyes turn into a small glare.

Real Deal: So you don’t know WHAT’s fucking up the video wall, just that it’s fucked up, and you have no idea how to fix it? That’s great. You’re probably fired. I’m going to come down there and see for myself, but I’d PROBABLY have your shit packed by the time I get down there.

Real Deal immediately stands up, looking to Osbourne and then to Sinnocence. He shakes his head, thinks for a few seconds, and then speaks.

Real Deal: I’m going to go down to the production truck and see if I can’t figure out what the fuck is going on. After that, I’ll be at guerilla position. Tell Jonny to nut up and find me when he wants to go over the last bits of our shit for this evening, and you two… You’ve done a solid job. This production bullshit is ridiculous, but it’s good you came here to find me.

He walks from behind his desk to stand in front of the both of them.

Real Deal: You two do what you can to keep an eye on the talent. Call me or find me if you need something. I have a feeling there’s some third party nonsense going on here, so I’m gonna find out about that. Specifically, keep your eyes on the Sons of Liberty guys. I think they’re involved with the mishaps. And one last thing, again… when or if you see and talk to Jonny… tell him to sack the fuck up and that I want to see him as soon as that happens.

Osbourne nods appreciatively at first, though hesitates a little when Real Deal makes his feelings about Jonny’s actions perfectly clear. Adjusting the Iron Fist Championship Belt on his shoulder, he nods again.

Osbourne Kilminster: Yeah… alright… Emphasis on IF we see him… We kind of kicked the alternates out of their room, so if you need us, that’s where we’ll be.

Sinnocence laughs and interlocks her arm with Ozzy’s, obviously amused with Real Deal.

Sinnocence: Will do, Darlin’, will do.

Osbourne half drags Jada out of the boss’s office and into the corridor, then around the nearest corner.

Osbourne Kilminster: God damn, you’ve got to be careful how you talk to him. Neither of us has been stuck in dark match Hell for years, and trust me, we don’t want to go back ot it… alright?

She frowns, pulling her arm out of his grasp. She turns around, her tone not happy.

Sinnocence: Your wish is my command, master. You know I don’t kiss ass, Oz and I didn’t ask for this mess to be dumped into our laps. We’ve got our own match to get ready for.

She lets out a heavy sigh.

Sinnocence: I’m sorry. I’ll watch my tone from now on.

Osbourne is open-mouthed, quite taken aback by her sudden mood-change.

Osbourne Kilminster: Just HIM, Jada! Come on, the guy signs our checks and… you know what? He’s done a lot more than I have or you have yet. You just have to play the game a little bit, yeah?

He steps toward her with open arms, beckoning her to him.

Sinnocence: All right, but I’m going to take my frustration out on you later during our ‘alone-time’.

She steps into his embrace with a short smile, a short but reciprocated smile.


The focus is first just the gold plate on black leather that is the Laws of Survival Championship, but as the camera zooms out, the championship title is seen to be resting comfortably over the shoulder of Trevor Worrens. The crowd from ringside can be heard slightly cheering at the sight of Worrens. Not dressed to compete, Worrens is seen wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, fairly tight, and a black t-shirt that has the white outline of a broken mirror and underneath it reads “Survival Has Nothing To Do With Luck.” Eryk Masters is not far up ahead, and he looks to be planning out the rest of his night, going over some notes, possible interview questions, etc.

Worrens approaches him, as opposed to the usual of Masters approaching the superstars.

Trevor Worrens: Eryk Masters a moment of your time…

Masters turns around quickly, somewhat startled by Worrens’s presence. Worrens cracks a grin and as Master settles in he shakes his head with a slight chuckle.

Eryk Masters: Good one.

Trevor Worrens: You’ve said it so many times to me in the past month it’s kind of just engrained in my head. But obviously I didn’t make a point to find you just so I could tell you how much you say that.

Masters nods.

Eryk Masters: Alright so then what’s going on?

Trevor Worrens: I need some interview time.

Masters again nods, this time turning towards the table in which he has some papers spread out.

Eryk Masters: Alright let’s see well chances are we’re going to have a spot opened during the supposed “no-show battle royal” how about…

Worrens shakes his head.

Trevor Worrens: I was thinking more like… right now. If you’re busy, that’s fine, just hand me your microphone.

Masters picks his microphone up off the table, and having nothing to say holds it in the ready position.

Eryk Masters: Your time, champ.

Worrens takes in a breath, and lets it out before looking straight ahead into the camera.

Trevor Worrens: There is… there is a lot of buzz going around the locker room about who’s stepping up, and who’s stepping away. There is a lot of talk about who’s considered a man, and who’s considered a coward. Interestingly enough, my name seems to be falling in all of those categories depending on who you are. And frankly, Masters, I’m REAL sick of all this talk, and not enough truth be spoken.

Masters, now officially addressed picks up the interview.

Eryk Masters: Truth… how do you mean?

Trevor Worrens: Maybe truth isn’t the right word, maybe it’s more or less that I’m sick and tired of the lack of reality. People continue to think that given enough victories this thing happening in SHOOT Project, this war, this power play, this created dictatorship, whatever you want to call it… people continue to believe that it will just takes the right victory to end it all.

And that is so wrong, Masters, it’s not even funny. What we are faced with is a mere matter of survival, and me, yeah I’d like to think I know a thing or two about survival. And guys like Cade Sydal… he’s proven he knows something about that topic too.

Worrens pauses letting the fans cheer on Cade.

Trevor Worrens: By the way you catch his match earlier?

Eryk Masters: Yeah, good to see Cade pick up a victory finally.

Worrens smiles.

Trevor Worrens: That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve watched Cade Sydal bust his ass from day one, even well before I officially stepped into a wrestling ring. And watching him come to life last week, and watching him out there tonight, it gives me a good feeling, because he gets it. Jester Smiles…. Doesn’t get it.

BOOOOOOOOOOO! The fans can be heard booing now and Worrens just shrugs slightly.

Trevor Worrens: I’m sorry, but I’m not going to sit here and lie. There’s a chance Jester Smiles is going to lose the ONE thing that has him walking around like he’s some sort of hero. And why? Because he got caught up in this war. The second he won Master of the Mat, what did he do, Masters? Huh? What did Jester Smiles do?

Masters thinks for a moment.

Eryk Masters: He ummmm… he came out to the ring and took a stand.

Worrens nods.

Trevor Worrens: Took a stand against who, Masters?

Eryk Masters: Umm… Jonny Johnson.

Worrens points his finger a couple of times at Masters.

Trevor Worrens: Right. Despite saying he only cared about Master of the Mat, about winning the right to be called as such, he went and jumped right into the thick of things. One match, and Jester Smiles thinks he’s the guy for the job… only then to demand other people take shots at Jonny Johnson? Really? Want to explain that one to me?

Masters fumbles for some sort of answer, but he doesn’t really have anything to say.

Trevor Worrens: Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting an answer. In fact that’s kind of an exact impression of my mind right now, Masters. I’m fumbling through it, wondering where Jester’s bravado suddenly came from. This guy… he wants to talk about taking shots, wants to bring up still how I won’t take mine…

Well there’s a simple reason. I don’t care about Jonny Johnson. I’m not taking a shot because I have this (pats the Laws of Survival Championship) Masters. I have this and this alone to worry about, so dealing with a piece of shit like Jonny just doesn’t seem all that important.

Masters seems somewhat shocked by this comment.

Eryk Masters: But its because of Jonny that last week happened the way it did. It’s because of Jonny that this week is what it is. It’s a damn circus.

Trevor Worrens: And that’s because of Jonny, why? Like I’ve said before, last time I checked that world championship doesn’t come with a dictator clause. Jonny’s not the reason for this, no matter how much he wants us all to believe that he is. But hey, far be it from me to tell others what to believe. I’m just saying I’m not getting wrapped up in it.

I will say this though, if Jester wants to keep talking about nobody stepping up, my question is why the hell is he waiting until November? I know, Jonny himself asked that question, but hey even a piece of shit like him is capable of spewing logical thought every now and then.

Worrens shakes his head with a sense of frustration.

Trevor Worrens: Whatever though, it’s not like anything I say is going to change a damn thing anyway. But at least I cleared the air as to why I’m not taking my shot. If the guy who earned a shot is pussyfooting around, it’s not the runner-up’s responsibility to take his place. The Laws of Survival Championship is MY responsibility… and I’m one more defense away from being the most winningest champion in current SHOOT Project history.

His tension eases up and Worrens offers a slight smile.

Trevor Worrens: And that’s a pretty damn good feeling.

Eryk Masters: That is one thing I did want to ask as I didn’t get around to it last week, but Worrens with your next title defense being that important… is there anyone in particular you’d like to put it on the line against?

Worrens thinks long and hard before looking right back at Masters.

Trevor Worrens: Yeah… there is.

Without saying another word Worrens heads off down the hall, leaving Masters and the rest of the wrestling world to speculate as to who Worrens would want to defend against. And the focus shifts elsewhere form there.


…probably no one

Jeff Hansen: And now it’s time for our No-Show Battle Royal!

Cut to the ring…

…it’s empty. Cut back to Jeff.

Jeff Hansen: Well, that was totally, completely expected. Now we can look forward to bigger and better – oh, for the love of…

The crowd start to pick up as more and more of them notice a slight disturbance making its way through them. The camera struggles to locate it, briefly, before centering on –

Jeff Hansen: Declan O’Leary? There are a DOZEN better people in this match and we get this flake of a mick?

Declan, mic already in hand, pushes his way past people, slapping a few hands, picking a few pockets, generally fucking around. He hops the security rail, turns around, and chucks the stolen wallets at random into the crowd, muttering into the mic:

Declan O’Leary: Don’t feckin’ cry, people at home, they were plants…

He slides into the ring.

Declan O’Leary: Al-feckin’-righ’, lads ‘n’ lasses! Feckin’ JONNYlution, aye?!

O’Leary leans back against the turnbuckle, nonchalantly receiving a modest pop. He swivels his head in an exaggerated motion, pretending to scan the arena.

Declan O’Leary: I came ‘ere fer this, em… this ‘No-Show Battle Royal’ an’… as I recall… hold on a minute…

He reaches into the back of his wrestling tights and pulls out a folded, shitty-looking black-on-bright-pink flyer and reads it aloud.

Declan O’Leary: Here we are… ‘Firs’ man to show up, wins.’

He looks around again, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Declan O’Leary: Well, shite… Looks like that’s me! I did it, people! I won!

The fans chuckle at this, a few cheering in a fit of hip irony. Declan puts the mic back to his lips.

Declan O’Leary: Well, after me well-deserved victory, I wanted to take a minute or two to talk to ye abou’ some more important things…

Declan is interrupted by the fans’ massive booing. He looks up at the ramp, and here come THOSE THREE ASSHOLES WHO RUINED THE RAPE A BITCH ON A POLE MATCH! Clad in ‘JONNYlution’ shirts and still looking fucking generic, they approach the ring apron and start yelling at Declan.

Man #1: Excuse me, SIR!

Man #2: SIR!

Man #1: Sir, I need your attention, sir.

Man #3: I’m afraid you’re not authorized to be here, and we’re going to have to ask you to leave the premises…

Man #2: …sir.

Declan frowns.

Declan O’Leary: But, ah… I’m pretty sure… I was BOOKED to be here tonigh’… so that would make me kind of… authorized, aye?

The three fucking PARTY POOPERS slide inside the ring and square off opposite Declan.

Man #3: No, SIR, you’re not.

Man #1: It appears, SIR, you misunderstood the point of a ‘No-Show’ Battle Royal.

Man #2: SIR!

Man #3: Now we’re going to need to ask you to leave again, sir.

Man #2: SIR.

Declan sighs dejectedly. He looks around, hoping for some backup, but seeing none, he sets the mic quietly on the ground – and absolutely CRUSHES two of the men with a RIDICULOUS double clothesline! The third guy BOOKS it for the ramp while Declan pauses to put a couple of boots to his victims, when a random STREET URCHIN comes out from the back and stands in the path of the third guy!

Street Urchin: HEY MISTER!

The third guy pauses, puzzled by the appearance of a little kid. The street urchin saunters up to the man.

Street Urchin: I just wanted to warn ya… there’s a guy waiting in back on Declan’s side with a baseball bat who’s gonna clobber yer face in. So you know.

The third guy nods and is about to turn to escape through the crowd when the street urchin SHOVES the third guy backwards – OVER THE BACK OF HIS FRIEND WHO SNUCK BEHIND HIM ON ALL FOURS IN A CLASSIC SCHOOLYARD PRANK! The kids pinch and prod at him mercilessly as he struggles to his feet, only to be sent CRUMPLING to the ramp by Declan, who CRACKS him in the back of the head with the mic!

Other Guy: Damn right! Declan not letting a single show-ruining asshole get away tonight!

The fans roar in approval, and Declan grins for a little while, soaking it in.

Declan O’Leary: Oh, righ’, tha’ thing I was gonna talk abou’… ah, shite, it can wait.

He drops the mic and heads the rest of the way up the ramp, street urchins at his heels, leaving the party poopers for someone else to clean up.


It’s a solemn scene.

The last time anyone may ever see Eli Storm.

Eli is alone in his locker room backstage, packing up various odds and ends, clearing out his stuff. It was time to move on for the battered veteran and he’s doing his best to take it in stride. A professional first, Eli didn’t want to bother his comrades tonight. There would be plenty of time for tears and well wishes, but not tonight. Not on such an important evening for his brothers and sisters in the Sons of Liberty.

He told them to take care of business, and stay out of his.

As simple as that.

Storm takes one look back at the locker room. He shakes his head as he is about the leave. As Storm goes to open the door, it flings opens towards him. In walks trusted attorney PETER LOLWEN, who seems to be talking to someone behind him. That man? A rather LARGE, Black man who immediately shoots Storm a stern look, while Lolwen seems primed to take care of business.

The well dressed Lolwen, with a stuffed manilla envelope under his left armpit, looks up to the embittered, solemn Eli Storm, and reaches in and pats him on the shoulder with his right hand. The gesture is far from sincere, which is Storm is smart enough to realize. He glowers at Lolwen in disgust, though the attorney couldn’t seem to care any less.

Peter Lolwen: Tough loss last week. (Gritting his teeth, shaking his head) Those loser leaves town matches don’t even seem fair, man. I mean, a guy loses one match and that’s it? Anything could have happened. But hey. You gave it your best, and that’s commendable.

Storm knows this is bullshit at it’s finest, but realizes that without a SHOOT Project contract, any action he might want to take could make matters way worse than they already were.

Eli Storm: Thank you for your…kind words

Lolwen nods and pulls the manilla envelope out from under his arm, showing it to Storm.

Peter Lolwen: Okay, well Jonny wanted you to have this. It’s your official pink slip. It’s framed… and he signed it. I’d say open it, but (looking back at the large black man at his side) we’re obviously a little pressed for time. So, Eli, if we could speed this process up just a tad. We’d all really appreciate it.

Storm bites his tongue, not wanting to risk a law suit.

Eli Storm: Heh, a last parting gift…you tell the Champ, I wish he could of handed it to me personally.

Lolwen obliges with a hideously fake, tight-lipped smile.

Peter Lolwen: I’m sure he doesn’t care what you wished. (Moving along) Now, seriously. We need you to get out.

Lolwen slightly raises his eyebrows, while the very imposing black gentleman takes an additional step closer. It’s very clear what their intentions are should Storm chose to overstay his welcome.

Eli Storm: (Looking at the black guy and getting the picture) Okay then. I guess that is my cue. I will be seeing you around, Lolwen.

Storm walks through the door leaving the two men to their business. Lolwen realizes he’s still holding the manilla envelope and turns to catch Storm.

Peter Lolwen: Eli your gift…

It’s obvious that Storm isn’t coming and Lolwen tosses the package off on the floor, sighing to himself.

Peter Lolwen: I see what Jonny means about people being ungrateful… Ugh…

He gets over his frustration pretty quickly and turns back to his guest who has remained silent during the duration of this visit.

Peter Lolwen: Anyway, this would be your locker room. You’d get your own space, and of course, we’d be more than happy to accommodate any other… (Clearing his throat) Needs you might have.

The man looks around, seemingly impressed, and Lolwen is quick to continue pitching his deal.

Peter Lolwen: Now look, Thomas. I know we have some things to… Work out in terms of your parole, but trust me and trust Jonny when we say that is something we can very EASILY take care of. But it’s going to require a commitment from you. To us. Jonny wants to make ABSOLUTELY SURE that you’re on board. He likes you, Mister Black. He already considers you a… A Friend.

Lolwen shrugs.

Peter Lolwen: You want my advice as a legal advisor? I don’t think this is an offer you can afford to refuse.

The large man smirks.

Thomas Manchester Black: So its either finish doing my time in the pin or brutally scratch any itch The Champ gets.

Lolwen didn’t expect him to be so blunt and so he tilts his head, thinking if there’s a better way to spin the situation. However, he has nothing.

Peter Lolwen: Yes, Mister Black. Essentially that’s our offer.

Lolwen matches honesty WITH honesty.

Thomas Manchester Black: Sorry if I seem forward but when in the pen, beating around the bush, gets you beat around the bush. With that being said…are there any catches I should know about. I would hate to be surprised by anything.

Lolwen shakes his head pretty quickly.

Peter Lolwen: No. We just want your guaranteed Friendship, my man. Sound simple enough?

TMB nods and extends his hand for Lolwen to shake.

Lolwen obliges and shakes.

Peter Lolwen: I’ll schedule that meeting with Judge Hollands first thing Wednesday. (Nodding, very pleased) Welcome aboard Thomas.

Still clutching Peter’s hand, TMB pulls him in close.

TMB: I hope this isn’t some game…I would hate to think that I was being used…

Lolwen smiles.

Peter Lolwen: We’re only playing one game, here. And that’s winning.

Black seems good enough with that response.

TMB: Good.



Looking over his shoulder, an emotionally distressed, JASON RILEY seems to be making a quick get-a-way through a dark, unused corridor in the arena. He peers around for any hidden cameras, but he’s already been spotted by anyone watching. So if he was trying to hide… he may have just failed. He’s in his street clothes, carrying an orange backpack, jiggling his keys in the palm of his right hand.


Riley spins back around and sees TOM QUINN chasing after him. He has half a mind to turn and leave regardless, but stops, realizing he’s safer with Quinn around.

Rogue: Jason, man, what the HELL was that about? You wanna run these attacks by me before you go charging out into battle like that? Now we’ve got Lester and DeLuca pissed at us, man.

Riley mans up a little bit as he engages in a rather honest moment.

Riley: It was something I had to do. Okay? This isn’t a WE thing. It was my shit, and I’ll fucking handle it okay?

Quinn shakes his head.

Rogue: No way man. You’re a fucking BROTHER to me and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna be here for you. (Looking Riley in the eye) You wanna fuck Conor up for the shit he said last week? I’m right there with you. But man, don’t go charging out like that… not with things the way they are.

Riley nods, appreciative in his own way.

Riley: I don’t NEED the support, dude… But… (Sighing) Thanks man.

The two friends embrace.

Riley: You think I should talk to Tim?

Quinn kinda smirks and has half a laugh.

Rogue: Probably not tonight, man. He’s still kinda shaken up.

There’s a lull in the conversation, as neither man seems to know what to do next.

Rogue: Ozzy’s got things down tonight. Let’s grab a drink or something, yeah? We’ll let Conor and his boys cool off and deal with this shit next week. That sound good, man?

Riley nods.

Riley: Yeah… (Nodding) Yeah man, fuck it. Let’s go get hammered. I need a break. My head’s not right dude.

Quinn nods and the two guys head toward the exit just down the hall.

Rogue: So you REALLY fucked her? Did you even feel it? Cause I mean… it HAS to be gigantic.

Riley shrugged.

Riley: Actually it was pretty good man.

Quinn laughs.

Rogue: You fucked Nova. Heh.

Riley: Shit yeah I did.

They leave.


nova, sinnocence & ozzy vs davis and chase

There is darkness as all the lights in the arena are extinguished… There is darkness and then there is light as a loud, bass rumble resounds throughout and lightning-like flashes of light flicker across the rafters. Despite knowing what is to come, the fans are oddly still as the "storm" rages for a few moments… and then silence…

Jeff Hansen: Ooh, can you feel it?

Joey C: What? Your erection?

Suddenly, the opening of Buckcherry’s "Crazy Bitch" hits the PA system, the lighting blinking back into life and the crowd begins to rise out of their seats, some booing reluctantly while others are catcalling, cameras flashing as a confident, sexy Sinnocence struts out all wrapped in black leather with the gleaming gold Revolution Championship Belt strapped around her waist and a look on her face that could make a man melt as she strikes a pose, showing off the lovely gold belt around her waist before she tilts her head to the side and spinning 180 to look back behind her as somebody else joins her in the spotlight… She motions behind her for her manager. The daughter of Ed Johnson, Joyce McGuire, appears with a wicked grin on her pretty face. Close behind is the Iron Fist Champion, Osbourne Kilminster, and the boos really kick in as he is revealed to them, his hair loose about his shoulders…

Jeff Hansen: You telling me you don’t get a little twitch every time you see that?

Joey C: What? Osbourne Kilminster? Hell no! The guy’s cool and all, but-

Jeff slaps Joey across the back of the head, drawing a slight smile from Other Guy.

Joey C: The fuck you smiling at, bitch?

Jeff Hansen: You notice anything different about Kilminster tonight? No MMA gear…

Joey C: Are those… wait, the guy hasn’t even got changed for this match… That "Victory or Valhalla T-shirt"-


Joey C: The combat pants… but the steel-toe-capped boots and just some light taping around his hands…

Jeff Hansen: It’s like a Steven Seagal movie – he’s OUT FOR BLOOD!

The three begin making their way down to the ring, Joyce actually stopping at one point to smack a male fan’s hand away from the stripper as the Iron Fist Champion drapes his left arm over his lover’s shoulders, Osbourne holds high his Iron Fist Championship belt before dropping it back down over his shoulder as the two continue their confident stride to the ring. Kilminster hops up to the apron and sits on the second rope, holding the top rope high to allow Sinnocence entry to the ring. She hops up nimbly, bending to duck under the rope with a smirk, affording Osbourne a clear view of her cleavage and the whole crowd a clear view of her ass.

Jeff Hansen: I think Other Guy is masturbating over there…

Joey C: Wouldn’t surprise me at all…

Other Guy: Is that the fucking best you two have? Seriously? Jeff’s the twitcher.

Joey C: Haha! You hear that, Jeff? You’re a twitcher!

Jeff Hansen: Screw you. Screw the both of you.

The two make their way into the middle of the ring, pacing about, proudly displaying their belts. Ron Wellington shakes his head as he looks Osbourne up and down, pointing to the boots, but Osbourne laughs and visibly mouths the words "Shut the Hell up". As the music cuts, the fans’ attention once again returns to the curtains at the top of the walkway. Sinnocence unbuckles the belt from around her waist and hands it off to McGuire, outside the ring, and glances over at her man across in the ring with a smile…She’s ready to kick ass. They’re ready to kick ass.

"Hit Me With Your Best Shot" by Pat Benatar plays out as the brown-eyed, brunette beauty Nova Lynn steps out from behind the curtains with catwalk make-up, waving to all the fans as she slowly sets forth on her way to the ring, pulling her black wrap-skirt and brand new black "Victory or Valhalla" T-Shirt down just a little as she steps under the top rope, but the fans hoping for a sneaky glimpse are unlucky as her black sports shorts underneath hide her femininity. Immediately as she enters the ring, she runs over to Sinnocence for a big hug as Osbourne looks on with a slightly raised eyebrow as the music fades out.

Joey C: Unlucky, Mr Camera-man. We saw you trying to get up Nova’s skirt, you sick perv!

Jeff Hansen: The guy owes me twenty bucks. He promised me that shot and it sucked.

Other Guy: Are you fuckin’ serious? You paid a camera-man for an upskirt shot?

Joey C: Hey, at least he has an interest in the production values of the show and contributes to pleasing our target demographic!

Other Guy: I didn’t know we were targe-

Jeff Hansen: Shut the Hell up, man. You don’t know shit.

Samantha Coil: And coming in at… an UNKNOWN combined weight… Osbourne Kilminster, the IRON FIST champion… Sinnocence, the REVOLUTION champion… and Nova Lynn Jackson!

Osbourne cracks his neck from side-to-side as the three discuss last-minute tactics, huddling in a corner far from the walkway.

Joey C: Look at that right there, teamwork.

Jeff Hansen: Jonny always picks the best people for his team, and you can tell when you see this… the UNITY.

The arena darkens, a simple spotlight hits the entrance way as the following words are heard:

"The hottest… under the sun… (who that)"

"Ain’t nobody fucking with me man"

The words "Christopher Davis" appear on the SHOOTtron in white block letters, the fans rise to their feet.

Ay ay ay ay, you already know that pimping (you)

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, their opponents Abigail Chase and Christopher Davissss!!"

Davis steps through the curtains first, dressed in mid thigh length black wrestling tights and black boots, he shakes his head as he looks towards the ring. He turns as Abigail Chase steps through the curtains dressed in black mid length tights and a grey tank top tied at the waist. Davis takes her by the hand and the two head towards the ring, his eyes cautiously scanning everybody in the front row and Joyce McGuire who paces around the ring with Sinnocence’s Revolution Title over her shoulder.

"Un-fucking-believable Lil’ Waynes the President"

"Fuck ’em, fuck ’em, fuck ’em, even if they celibate"

"I know the game is crazy, it’s more crazy than it’s ever been"

"I’m married to that crazy bitch, call me Kevin Federline"

Davis hops on the ring apron and is through the ropes first, holding the ropes open for Abigail. She walks up the ring steps and steps cautiously through the ropes.

"And I’m the god and this is what I bless ’em with

Bitch I’m me, I’m me, I’m me, I’m me

Baby I’m me, so who you? Ur not me, you’re not me

And I know that ain’t fair, but I don’t care.

The huddle in the corner breaks and the three separate, Osbourne standing slightly in front of Sinnocence and Nova. Chris Davis steps eye-to-eye with Kilminster, who smirks and tilts his head back confidently. Davis looks down at Osbourne’s steel toe-capped boots and the very light taping on his fists, licking his lips and nodding his head. He knows how this one’s going to go down and he keeps Abigail right behind him as both sides retreat to their corners.

Other Guy: Oddly enough, Chris Davis looks like a man with a plan, and whatever it is, I can guarantee it’ll be smarter than some steel-toed boots.

Joey C: Well it’d have to be damned smart if he thinks it’s going to see him and his girlfriend prevail in the kind of match.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, the guy think he’s some kind of God, so let’s see if he can prove it… maybe use some of those Godly powers of his to see him through.

Joey C: Oooh. Lookit mee. I’m Chris Davis. I am God!

Other Guy: Seems to me that it wasn’t so long ago YOUR BOY Osbourne thought he was a God…

Joey C: Shut the fuck up, Other Guy. I won’t tell you again.

Other Guy: You don’t tell me shit.

Jeff Hansen: Oh, we tell you shit but you just aren’t listening, but listen up now, man – you better keep your silent ass in that seat and not interrupt anything we decide to do or say, be a good little boy and keep your damned job.

Other Guy: Fuckin’ job… I can’t wait for next week already…

Ron Wellington steps into the middle of the ring and looks to both corners, and then to Mark Kendrick, who rings the bell, but winces a little as the sounds seems to provoke a migraine.

Joey C: Look at that chump ringing the bell. I bet he spends more time choking the chicken…

Jeff Hansen: Ah, who gives a crap? This match is just getting started… first complete team to be bleeding is done, gone, end of, defeated!

Other Guy: Come on, Chris!

Joey C: I thought we told you to shut up…

Chris Davis immediately pushes Abigail behind him, stepping forward slightly as Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova spread out around the ring, moving slowly toward them. Osbourne puts his hands out to prevent Sinn and Nova stepping further forward, pointing to Davis and then to himself. Davis shakes his head pointing at Sinn and Nova, then to Chase. Kilminster nods and LIGHTNING FAST rockets a right hook into Davis’s face! Davis is rocked and stumbles back, locking his arms around the top ropes to shield Chase in the corner as Osbourne follows up with a jumping knee to the face! Davis eats it and his body goes a little limp, but he holds onto those ropes for all he’s worth. Osbourne shakes his head and steps back with raised eyebrows, pacing around the ring. Sinn and Nova wait in the wings.

Joey C: I know Jonny’s my boy, and his boys are mine too, but I can’t help but feel some sympathy for Davis here…

Jeff Hansen: Maybe… I mean, if I looked as ugly as him, I’d kill myself…

Other Guy: I think he means defending his girlfriend… putting himself on the line…

Joey C: Yeah, kinda… but how I’ve heard it from that other chump, it sounds a bit like horse-shit…

Jeff Hansen: HA!

Chris Davis takes a deep breath and straightens up. Osbourne rolls his shoulders, ready for more, but Sinnocence places a hand on his shoulder and whispers in his ear. He smiles and nods, stepping back as she stares down Davis. Leading with a front-kick to the sternum, she steps in with a tornado punch that catches Davis square on the temple and ROCKS his head violently, but still he holds onto the ropes! Stepping back slightly, Sinnocence drops quickly to one knee and blasts Davis with a fist of a cup-check which bends him double, but as she reaches for his head, he fights with all he has, the ropes tightly in his hands as he calls upon all the strength in his neck and back to stand upright again in the corner, breathing and sweating heavily, his legs turned to jelly! Sinnocence steps back out and paces the ring, exchanging surprised raised eyebrows with her lover.

Jeff Hansen: She nearly had him then, nearly got the bastard out of the Goddamn corner.

Joey C: It’s taking a lot from Chris to stand up to this, a brutal barrage from two separate opponents, but he resolutely hangs onto those ropes…

Other Guy: That guy’s got balls… Give him that much, man. Give him that much…

Joey C: Yeah, and they must be hurting like a bitch after that low blow from Sinnocence…

Jeff Hansen: My balls ache just LOOKING at her…

Joey C: Hahaha!

Suddenly, Nova charges across the ring and drives a MASSIVE spear into Davis’ mid-section, dropping to her knees with the recoil and pulling Davis’s ankles from under him as she stands! Sinnocence helps out as each woman grabs an ankle each and yanks as hard as they can on Davis’s legs! He screams out in pain as his grip struggles to hold out, his hands burning as he maintains his grip! Sinnocence shouts to Nova as she takes both ankles, Nova kneeling down under Davis as Sinn hoists the legs up high and slams them down, nearly BREAKING DAVIS’ BACK over Nova’s shoulder! The grip is broken and Davis flops to the floor, but the Revolution Champion can’t wait, charging at Nova and using her shoulders as a spring-board for a high shoulder-block attempt, but Chase ducks down and Sinn flies over the top rope to the matted area outside! As Chase stands, she finds herself on the receiving end of a hard side-kick to the sternum from Nova! Nova steps in and grabs two handfuls of hair, turning and bringing Chase down to the canvas with a snapmare!

Joey C: The teamwork prevailed! This match has finally broken open!

Jeff Hansen: Indeed it has! Osbourne there leaning over the ropes to check on Sinnocence as she stands!

As she does so, a rue fan leans over the barrier and touches her breasts, but he quickly regrets it as she spins around with a back elbow shot to the temple! Two security guards rush over to grab the man as he flops back down into his chair and Sinnocence slides into the ring. Kilminster strolls up to Davis, who still writhes on the mat, clutching his back, and grabs him by the ears, pulling him up to his feet and leaning back for a headbutt, but Davis checks Osbourne’s ribs with a FAST right and left combination before going to work upstairs with the right and left to the chin! Osbourne stumbles back a little as Sinnocence DRIVES a hard chop-block into the side of Davis’s knee which drops him down to the one and the perfect height for a SOLID, BRUTAL roundhouse kick from Osbourne, the steel toe-cap of his boot SMASHING into the cheekbone of the downed man! Sinn is back to her feet, smirking as the two marvel at their work. Whilst over the other side of the ring, Abigail Chase fights her way to her feet and swings a haymaker at Nova, which misses! Nova swings back and misses! Chase with a kick to the stomach, but Nova catches the leg and ducks underneath with a corkscrew takedown!

Other Guy: You’d have to be a sick, sad panda to book a match like this…

Joey C: It’s a brutal affair, but it’s just what the doctor ordered!

Jeff Hansen: Exactly! People like Chris need to be kept in check, and this is how it needs to be done!

Other Guy: Does it fuck!

Jeff Hansen: Oh, puh-lease! Shut up!

Osbourne steps back and allows Chris Davis to get to his feet, bouncing on the spot as he waits for him to stand, but as he does so, Chris spots Nova raining mounted punches down on Abigail Chase and makes his move, making a run for Nova, but Sinnocence is quicker and flies through the air to catch Davis across the back of the head with a clothesline that drops him to his knees! Still, Davis is on his hands and knees crawling over toward Nova and Chase, but his body is ROCKED by a soccer kick from Osbourne Kilminster! And another! And another! Davis clutches at the bottom rope! Another soccer kick! He reaches up for the second rope! Another soccer kick! He pulls himself up to his feet by the top rope just as Osbourne drives home a BEAST OF AN ELBOW SHOT to the eyebrow region which just grazes as Davis ducks out of the way, firing back with lefts and rights to the body before he dives for Osbourne’s arms, locking one up and sending him to the canvas with a hip toss!

Sinnocence is quick off the mark, bouncing off the ropes and springing into the air with a leaping lariat that pushes Davis back to the ropes just as Osbourne gets back to his feet! Davis lashes out with his feet, connecting HARD with the side of Osbourne’s face before shooting into his mid-section and picking him up in a Fireman’s Carry and dropping Osbourne with a NECK-SNAPPING neck-breaker! Sinnocence again on the offense with a leg-kick and then a kick up top, but Davis blocks and steps back from her, parrying an onslaught of punches until Kilminster pulls himself to his feet and enters the fray, pulling Sinn back and pulling Davis into a Thai clinch, BLASTING him with knee after knee after knee, driving him into the corner, his back against the turnbuckle! Davis struggles to block each knee with his hands on Osbourne’s hips, but suddenly the Iron Fist champion changes tactics and attacks from above with a FLESH-SLICING ELBOW STRIKE that seems to tear a mound of flesh from Davis’s eyebrow!

Joey C: OUCH!

Jeff Hansen: Davis is busted!

Joey C: That HAS GOT to hurt!

Jeff Hansen: That’s inevitable. It was going to happen sooner or later…

Ron Wellington notes the first blood as, over at the other end of the ring, Abigail Chase manages to push Nova away and clamber up to her feet using the ropes, breathing heavily as her assailant looms toward her! Nova drives a side-kick into Abigail’s sternum and follows up with a knee to the stomach that bends her double! Jumping high into the air, Nova SLAMS home into the top of Chase’s head with a knee from the Heavens! Chase is flat out, face-down and Nova stands, brushing the hair out of her face. Osbourne steps back from Chris Davis, who wipes away at his face and looks at the blood all over his fingers with rage in his eyes. Charging off the ropes, he swings a looping overhand right, but Osbourne blocks! He swings a solid left hook that checks Osbourne’s chin and looks to follow-up with a straight right, but Osbourne ducks… but NO! As he ducks below it, the fist drives right through and SMASHES into Sinnocence’s face! Chris Davis reels back in shock, immediately regretting hitting the woman, but as Osbourne stands, there’s no forgiving in his eyes as he roars out his rage!

Jeff Hansen: This isn’t going to end well…

Joey C: Osbourne’s going to do that HULK SMASH thing!! You can see it in his eyes…

Christopher Davis: I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THA-

He’s cut off by a DEVASTATING right hook to the chin from Osbourne. Davis fires back, but with the blood pouring into his eyes, he can’t target his punches properly, whereas Osbourne’s are driving home with pinpoint accuracy from the left and the right, over-handed and uppercut! Davis is rocked, covering up as he backs toward the corner. Osbourne leaves his prey for a moment to check on Sinn, holding her face in both his hands as a cut across the bridge of her eyebrow pours crimson down her beautiful face. Osbourne turns from her as he hears an exhausted Chris Davis limping from his corner toward the other side of the ring where Nova tortures Chase with a modified Camel Clutch, using the bottom ring rope across the neck of the former interviewer. Osbourne whispers to Sinnocence and the two smirk as they run over to intercept Davis, each grabbing an arm and taking it in turns to slap his face and point at Nova’s domination of his lover.

Christopher Davis: NO!

Joey C: Damn… Who’s getting it worse here? The guy being held back and forced to watch, or the GF being choked out slowly?

Other Guy: It’s disgusting… all of this is just disgusting…

Jeff Hansen: Who the Hell asked you? This is beautiful.

Nova releases the floppy Chase and turns to see Davis looking on, tormented, struggling feebly against the two Champions. With a smirk on her face, she turns back to Chase, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to her feet, but Chase has some fight left in her, doubling Nova with a knee to the stomach and putting her down to her knees with a double axe-handle! She loads up for a soccer kick, but Nova catches her leg and stands, using a sloppy single-leg takedown to bring Chase down to the mat right in the corner of the ring! Nova then whips off her black wrap-skirt, drawing cheers from the crowd, and proceeds to tie the semi-conscious Abigail’s wrists to the bottom rope with it, completely restraining her!

Jeff Hansen: I saw something like this on a DVD I borrowed from a buddy once… It was awesome…

Joey C: That’s intelligent ring generalship from Nova, utilising her own attire to tie up Chase like that…

Other Guy: I don’t think "generalship" is even a word.

Jeff Hansen: You know, we’re sick of telling you to shut your damn mouth, OG. Just do it, already.

Nova turns to Davis and smiles, turning back to Chase and dropping to her knees, examining her nails before raking them across Chase’s face! She looks back to Davis with a mockery of a sorrowful expression on her face, but Davis is beginning to see red, and not the blood pouring into his eyes! With a roar of determination, ducking down a little, he manages to the considerably smaller Sinnocence into the air and send her crashing to the canvas with a hip toss, but immediately after doing so, he eats a steel toe-cap to the face from Osbourne Kilminster, but somehow catches the leg and hoists the Iron Fist Champion up and drops him with a MASSIVE release T-Bone Suplex! The crowd roar as he makes it over to Nova, pushing her aside with enough force to send her bouncing back off the ropes on the far side of the ring and return with a leaping lariat which CONNECTS with Davis’s already torn eyebrow. He staggers back, dropping to one knee in front of Chase and just ABSORBING a baseball slide to his back from Nova as he unties Chase and stands her up, holding his palm up to Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova as they circle in on the doomed pair.

Jeff Hansen: There’s blood in the water now…

Joey C: Things are definitely not looking good for Davis and Chase now…

Jeff Hansen: Look at the mess they’ve made of Chris’s face… Blood EVERYWHERE…

Joey C: And not a drop on Chase’s face that we can see… He’s done a Hell of a job trying to defend her…

Jeff Hansen: Well he did to start with, and then he left her to the less than tender mercies of Nova, and that bitch has some pent-up frustration…

Other Guy: So would you if two retarded fuckwits kept you locked up for months…

Jeff Hansen: Oh puh-lease. Quit bringing up the past. She loves those guys… quite literally, or so the rumour goes…

Davis edges Abigail toward the turnbuckle, standing in front of her with his hands on his knees, sucking in huge breaths as Osbourne raises a puzzled eyebrow, still slowly stepping closer… Sinnocence exchanges a satisfied smirk with Nova, who seems to be concerned with Sinn’s wound. Davis slowly stands upright and turns to face Chase…

Chris Davis: Do you trust me?

Abigail Chase: More than anything…

With that, Davis drives the flat of his hand into her mouth with a LOUD SLAP! The crowd gasps! Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova stop in their tracks… Davis turns to face them and points to Ron Wellington and then to his girlfriend’s face, her lip cut ever so slightly and a thin snake of blood working its way down to her chin as she sobs, resting her head on his shoulder. Osbourne nods his head to Davis, shrugging his shoulders in begrudging acceptance of the way Davis saved his love the pain that Nova, Sinnocence and Osbourne himself may have brought her, as he watches them duck under the top rope and onto the walkway. The bell is rung.

Samantha Coil: And at a time of twenty two minutes and fifteen seconds… your winners… OSBOURNE KILMINSTER, SINNOCENCE AND NOVA!

The crowd boo aloud as the three huddle in the middle of the ring, discussing Davis’ odd choice of tactic. There’s a lot of gesticulating and shrugging of shoulders before the victorious smiles show through when Ron Wellington approaches them, breaks them up and raises Nova’s and Sinnocence’s hands into the air, Sinn grabbing her lover’s hand to hold it high for a moment before the three make their way out to the walkway, where Joyce McGuire hands both Sinnocence and Osbourne their belts and the quartet make their way to the back, amidst a hail of heavy boos.

Joey C: Not a popular result, but then… a weird decision for Davis to make…

Jeff Hansen: I bet there’ll be trouble in paradise tonight…

Other Guy: Don’t you idiots get it at all? Davis would rather hurt his girlfriend and deal with that pain than watch what those three sick bastards would do to her… I mean, we can only imagine what malicious intentions Nova had for Chase when she tied her hands up like that…

Jeff Hansen: What the hell?

Joey C: Yeah, I can see why he did it, but still…

Jeff Hansen: You wouldn’t see Osbourne Kilminster slap the taste out of Sinnocence’s mouth to get an easy exit from a match, would you?

Other Guy: Abigail Chase isn’t a trained wrestler…

Jeff Hansen: Whatever. I’m bored.

Other Guy: Oh goddamnit, Jeff.

Jeff Hansen: We got Eryk Masters somewhere out there. Eryk. Make our hearts pee.


We head backstage where Eryk Masters is standing by, microphone in hand ready for another interview.

Eryk Masters: You join me backstage here as I am standing outside of what seems to be a new development here in SHOOT. I am standing outside of a crèche. You know… Where they look after your children for you whilst you work. (Pauses awkwardly) I… I am just going to see what’s going on inside…

Eryk turns from the camera and pushes the door open. He isn’t greeted by screaming children or complaining parents. He is just greeted by a stare from a cigar smoking Crush Heart. Crush is sat on a stool whilst a blonde haired child in a white dress plays in a ball pool. Crush continues to stare at Masters as he walks slowly over to the huge man.

Eryk Masters: Ummm, Crush. I didn’t expect you to be in here.

Crush cocks his head to one side, blowing smoke in the direction of the SHOOT Project interviewer.

Crush Heart: I didn’t expect ya to be in here either Master’… Probably ‘cause I didn’t know ya had any kids yaself…

Eryk Masters: I could say the same thing about you Crush. (Pointing to the blonde haired child in the ball pool) Is that girl yours?

Crush Heart: What ya think? Last week she calls me “Daddy”… This week I’m sat in a fuckin’ play area…

Crush is cut off by the sound of a sweet angelic voice, his daughter.

Angel Child: Daddy don’t swear!! That is a naughty word!!

Without acknowledging the ‘telling off’, Crush continues to talk to Masters.

Crush Heart: Ya think I’d be sat in here if I had a choice?

Eryk Masters: Well, it’s just that… You know… For a few weeks that little appeared and the lights in the area would go out… She would appear and seemingly you found a second wind, helping you to win your matches.

Crush Heart: (Surprised) What?! What the hell ya talkin’ ‘bout boy? Lights goin’ out? Maybe Jonny Johnson should be payin’ more ‘tention to the electrical wirin’ than messin’ ‘bout with his freak show tonight huh?

Crush lets out a laugh that seems to come from somewhere deep inside of his stomach.

Eryk Masters: Can I ask why you are here tonight?

Crush Heart: Ya just did… I’m here ‘cause I fuckin’ work for this company….

Angel Child: Daddy!! Naughty word!!

Crush Heart: In case ya forgot pal… I’m still ‘round… Even if no one is big ‘nough to step up to the plate and accept my open challenge from last week. I said I’d fight anyone… Anywhere… With any rules… I’m here just in case some punk thinks he’s gonna get brave…

The blonde haired child, who appears to look like a little angel, stops playing the ball pool and walks over to Crush. She pulls at his jacket. The huge SHOOT Project Soldier looks down towards his tiny daughter.

Angel Child: Daddy? I need to do a wee-wee…

Crush looks at Masters… Then to the floor… Then to his daughter…

Crush Heart: Fuckin’ hell…


Strolling along a corridor deep in the bowels of the Thomas and Mack Center, Osbourne swaggers confidently, his Iron Fist Championship Belt fastened around his face as his Cheshire Cat smile beams broadly and his fingernails pick away at the bloodied athletic tape around his fists.

Kicking open the door of what was the Alternates and Try-Outs locker room, he finally unwinds all the tape and throws it down on the floor, nodding to the seated Tim Calahan.

Osbourne Kilminster: We did it, man.

Calahan pumps his fist and stands up to shake hands with Ozzy.

Osbourne turns his head back to Nova, who has entered the room behind him.

Osbourne Kilminster: You know, you were good out there, Nova. You surprised me… in a good way.

Sinnocence seems equally as happy with Nova’s efforts.

Sinnocence: She surprised everyone…just like she was supposed to. You don’t spend months at the mercy of someone else and expect a woman like her to come out and be weak. She had the viciousness of a Valkyrie tonight… Good job, Nova.

Sinnocence could only laugh quietly as she embraces the brunette beauty from behind and kisses her neck. She brings a free hand up to wipe away some of the blood that’s drying down the side of her face.

Kilminster drops his Championship Belt to the floor, open-mouthed as, behind him, Calahan spits out a mouthful of beer.

Osbourne Kilminster: What? What the… What are you doing?

Nova Lynn Jackson: She’s making me happy, like she always does!

Nova giggles and turns around to face Sinnocence, grabbing her around the waist and dipping her for a loving kiss, full of Old Hollywood excess and glamour.

Nova Lynn Jackson: I wouldn’t have been able to pull it off if it wasn’t for you! I’d still be just crying!

Sinnocence lets out a heart laugh and slips out of Nova’s grasp, falling to the ground.

Sinnocence: You only needed a push in the right direction, beautiful. You did it all on your own.

The raven-haired vixen looks up at her lover with a wicked grin.

Sinnocence: You have a problem with me kissing a girl, Ozzy? I can always give you one too, if you’re feeling left out.

Smirking, Osbourne looks to Calahan, who appears to be a state of complete shock and awe. Looking back to the girls, he slowly picks up his Iron Fist Championship Belt and places it on one of the desks before pulling a chair up beside Tim and taking a seat, reclining comfortably.

Osbourne Kilminster: Oh… I never said you had to stop…

Sinnocence: All right.

Sinn pulls Nova to the ground to join her, bringing those lips to hers for another lovely kiss.

Nova curled up next to Sinnocence on the floor, petting the silky raven hair of her best friend, giggling through the kisses.

Nova Lynn Jackson: Oh, too bad Eli can’t come back ever! This is, like, totally a ratings boost! He’d be so proud of us that he’d leave the Sons of Liberty and join us!

The older woman matches Nova’s giggling, gently leaving kisses down the side of her face and down her neck. She even brings a hand up to grope one of the brunette’s breasts.

Sinnocence: I can’t think of a better way to celebrate…

Osbourne Kilminster: Tim, mate, reach back there and get me some JD on the rocks. This is going to be a Hell of a party…

As Tim reaches behind him to the coolbox and crates of alcohol he brought in during the match, he can barely take his eyes off the girls. He’s lost in thought for a moment. He grabs the bottle and starts to hand it to Ozzy, but speaks in the process.

Super Fan: Ya know… (Handing him the bottle) I’m gonna go see if I can find Tom and Jason. They should be here man.

Kilminster takes the bottle and twists the cap off and moves over toward where Calahan is seated for some ice.

Osbourne Kilminster: Do what you need, man. We’ll be here.

Calahan nods.

Super Fan: Yeah. I’ll be back soon, man.

He stands up and looks at Nova.

Super Fan: Make sure these assholes save me a drink, all right?

Nova giggles and kisses Tim on the cheek

Nova: Totally for sure, Timmy!

Calahan smiles and makes his exit.

Closing the door behind him.

But he isn’t alone.

JONAS COLEMAN and DIEGO REYES smile, as they walk into Super Fan, leaving the lockerroom of Jonny and Friends. Coleman holds up a picture, which Reyes looks at. Calahan stops.

Jonas Coleman: So, this isn’t Kilminster.

Reyes chuckles.

Diego Reyes: No, I don’t think it is.

Coleman shrugs his shoulders, and looks at Tim Calahan, who now is starting to get a bit uneasy.

Jonas Coleman: Where can we find Osbourne Kilminster?

Calahan is a little surprised, but immediately recognized the two.

Super Fan: You guys are uhh… You’re Coleman and Reyes. Perdition. YOU guys are the ones that–

Reyes cuts him off.

Diego Reyes: Yes. Guns for hire. Mercenaries. Neutral parties, if you will.

Jonas Coleman decides to cut the re-introduction short.

Jonas Coleman: Where’s Osbourne Kilminster?

Calahan interjects.

Super Fan: Why are you here?

Reyes sighs, and with LIGHTNING quickness, NAILS Calahan with a stiff as FUCK right hand. Coleman moves behind Calahan to catch him from falling. Reyes follows up with just brutal rights and lefts to the face and midsection of Calahan! With one final hit, Reyes practically knocks Calahan out! Calahan spits blood onto the floor, which causes Jonas Coleman to start laughing.

Diego Reyes: Yeah, that’s probably enough.

Coleman throws Calahan into the wall.

Jonas Coleman: When you see Osbourne Kilminster? Tell him we got paid a lot of money to do to him what we just did to you. And our client? He REALLY hates prissy primadonna champions, soooo… we were paid REALLY well for this, but business is business, and I figure it only right to tell you that we will accept a counter offer.

They start to walk off, leaving Calahan against the wall, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Diego Reyes: Kilminster was most likely in that locker room.

Coleman laughs.

Jonas Coleman: Yeah, he probably was. He got the message. That was fun, too.


vincent mallows vs adrian corazon

The action returns to the ring, with a focus on the Revolution Video screen. The gritty countdown begins.






Static hits the P.A. The screen flickers, and all you get is the buzz from the crowd who anticipates his arrival.



Orange pyro flies upwards from the ramp way as “Torcher” by DZK. The video screen illuminates with an assault of images, from Corazon taking on Dave Marz, to Del Carver, to Dan Stein, to Jonny Johnson, and a seemingly countless number of others.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen this next match is a (slightly hesitant) FIRST STAB match…

The images stop. From what looks like a strip torn directly from the video wall, blood red lettering forms, drawing out his name.

Samantha Coil: Introducing first…weighing in tonight at 230 pounds…

Finally, the orange spotlight shines down on the ramp, and the fans give a very LOUD and EXCITED reaction when his silhouette is revealed.  All the lights return to normal, showing Adrian Corazon clearly, and he marches to the ring with a purpose every so often glancing out at the sold out crowd.


Corazon removes his Sons of Liberty T-shirt as he walks to the ring, and tosses it out into the crowd for one lucky fan. From there Corazon walks up the ring steps, pausing for a moment to let out a sigh.

Jeff Hansen: This one is what you’d call a dream match, IF of course this was taking place a year ago and Adrian Corazon hadn’t since turned into this concerned Son of Liberty.

Other Guy: Just because he’s takin a stand for the right thing doesn’t mean he’s any less brutal, any less inhuman and I think Vincent Mallows made a HUGE mistake askin’ for a match like this.

Joey C.: Yeah, cept Vincent’s kept out of harms way, they’re not stabbing each other, and I gotta say this match concept is a little OVER THE TOP even for my tastes. Gonna be a hard one to watch.

With Corazon in the ring, the lights alternating between a normal setting and an orange hue, he paces about watching the entryway with quiet intensity. His music cuts away only to be IMMEDIATELY replaced with the eerie chanting of Gregorian monks. The song “Ave Satani” is what they chant, and soon the ancient song is accompanied by a heavy metal guitar and drum rift, creating an ominous and driving beat throughout the Thomas and Mack Center.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent… weighing in at 272 pounds… HERE IS VINCENT MALLOWS!!!

The boos begin to sound throughout the arena as Vincent Mallows walks slowly out from the back. He wears a pair of dark green wrestling trunks, that cut off just a little less than halfway down his thigh, and matching dark green fingerless gloves. He doesn’t walk out much further than just outside of the entryway and as he slowly brings the microphone in his hand to his lips, the crowd only gets louder.

Jeff Hansen: Disrespect a legend like Mallows? These fans continue to just show HOW stupid they really are.

Other Guy: Legend? More like infamous maniac, Jeff.

Jeff Hansen: Infamous, famous, doesn’t matter Vincent Mallows is a name known throughout the wrestling world and these fans are just never going to learn who the REAL respect should be shown to.

The chanting continues, but as Mallows stands there he finally motions for it to cut and the song is faded out. Now it is just the booing of the fans that fills the arena.

Vincent Mallows: You’ve had your time, Mr. Corazon. Now, you make your choice. Stab an innocent man, or be yet another failure in the long list of the failures of your precious Sons of Liberty.

With that, Mallows drops the microphone and motions to the entryway. “Ave Satani” starts to play again and now two men wearing Jonnylution t-shirts usher out a man who is tied up with a burlap sack over his head and no shirt to cover his body. The burlap sack reads “choice” and there are X’s painted on in black paint all over his torso, making a smiley face image.

The very sight really sets the crowd off, and some people are even seen getting up out of their seats to LEAVE. Mallows walks down to the ring ahead of the men who forcefully pull the victim towards the ring.

Other Guy: Of all the things I’ve witnessed… this… I just… don’t expect me to call the end of this one…

Jeff Hansen: Hey its your job in jeopardy not ours. But Joey and I can call the action of this match that will not only test the physical ability of Adrian Corazon, but also his loyalty to seeing the Sons of Liberty victorious tonight.

Joey C.: To stab or not to stab… that IS the question.

Mallows slides under the bottom rope and rises up to one knee. Corazon looks ready to pounce, but referee Willie Dean motions for him to stay back until the bell sounds. Mallows rises up to his full vertical base and turns to see the two men preparing the victim, taking loose ends on each side of his body and tying them to the top rope, so that the man is dead center of the up ring ropes. He tries to struggle but his legs are tied and his arms tied as well, leaving him helpless in the ring. The boos are near deafening at this juncture and Mallows seems to be enjoying it. He leans up against the ropes while Willie Dean checks him in and its clear that Corazon is seething in anger.

Jeff Hansen: For those watching not familiar with the rules, the winner of this match is whoever stabs the innocent man first. It’s a moral dilemma for most, but will prove without a doubt what kind of man Adrian Corazon really is… brutal and inhuman OR caring and compassionate.

With the man in place, the two men who escorted him out exit the ring, but not without one of the men removing a large screwdriver from his pocket and just tosses it into the ring. Referee Willie Dean nods his head and calls for the bell.

Joey C.: The screwdriver officially in play and this one begins!

For a moment neither Corazon nor Mallows make a move, but both instead look at the screwdriver that lies on the mat in between them. Mallows motions to the screwdriver, inviting Corazon to take it, but Corazon tenses up his body, seemingly refusing to go for it. Mallows shakes his head with a sense of disgust and goes for it, but the second he walks towards the screwdriver, Corazon goes right for him, hooking his arm under Mallows’s as Mallows reaches for the screwdriver and out of the blue he SNAPS Mallows down to the mat with a quick arm drag. Corazon then kicks the screwdriver off to the side as Mallows is back up to his feet, rotating his arm slightly. Corazon stays right on top of things and goes right in at Mallows, forcing him into an elbow collar tie up.

The two push back and forth, neither man getting the initial advantage, but Corazon starts getting the upper hand, shoving Mallows back towards the right side ring ropes. Mallows quickly turns his body though, his size advantage coming into play as he whips Corazon around, shoving him back first into the ropes, breaks the grapple and DELIVERS a knife-edge chop across Corazon’s chest. Corazon winces slightly, only to come off the ropes and fire with a knife-edge chop of his own… and before Mallows can respond, Corazon fires three more quick chops, forcing Mallows to back away!

Other Guy: Corazon respondin’ with a couple of chops of his own, showing Mallows that anything he throws at him, he’s gonna throw back harder and faster.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, but Adrian has to keep in mind that this match isn’t about beating your opponent, its about stabbing someone. Then again, that is something that’s right up Corazon’s alley, and let’s NEVER let him forget that.

Mallows starts to circle the ring now, having put some space between himself and Corazon, but as he circles his eyes shift to the screwdriver and he goes for it again. Corazon goes after him, only for Mallows to pivot around and drive a punch right into Corazon’s gut. Corazon doubles over slightly and Mallows LUNGES all the way up to his full vertical base, LANDING a left handed European uppercut that snaps Corazon’s head back. Mallows follows up with a series of knife edge chops and from there yanks Corazon by the arm and sends him sternum first into the lower left corner of the ring. Corazon stumbles out backwards and Mallows drives a stomp into the back of Corazon’s left leg, then his right, dropping the former world champion to his knees. Corazon looks to get back up but Mallows gets him by the head and starts working a neck crank, purposely slowing down the match and just trying to agitate Corazon.

Joey C.: Mallows workin’ this slow and methodical right now, classic Vincent right before our very eyes, eh Jeff?

Jeff Hansen: That it is, Mallows looking to wear Corazon down, because in this one its about buying yourself just enough time to stab the helpless tied up innocent, and so Mallows making certain not to over exert himself.

Corazon fights against the neck crank, wincing in pain as he tries to rise up to his feet despite Mallows putting pressure on the neck by pressing down on the head and turning it to the side. Corazon though does get up and Mallows quickly shifts from neck crank to full on sleeper… NO! Corazon gets Mallows by both wrists as his arms come across his face, and he whips around, sending Mallows into the corner instead.

Mallows recovers, but frustrated makes a quick lunge in with a short arm clothesline, Corazon side steps it and brings a knee up into Mallows’s gut, doubling him over slightly and from there, manages to execute a quick side-suplex, sending Mallows over onto his back. Mallows sits up, arching his back in pain, then rises up to his feet while turning to face Corazon and Corazon right there boot to the gut… no Mallows catches the leg and hooks his arm up under the knee and pulls up, tripping Corazon… then turning him quickly into an ankle lock submission.

Jeff Hansen: Submission applied and Mallows again focusing on breaking down Adrian Corazon without having to spend that much energy in the process.

Joey C.: Always a thinker, and Corazon’s in a bind.

Other Guy: Not even close, Adrian’s been through tougher fights and WILL make Mallows pay for this one, I’m sure of it.

Corazon struggles against the ankle lock but does manage to turn his body over and looks to boot Mallows in the side… but Mallows catches the other leg and looks to turn Corazon over into A Boston crab, BUT Corazon uses all his lower leg strength to turn in the other direction, sending Mallows stumbling away from him. Corazon sits up and Mallows comes right back with an arrant kick to the side of Corazon’s head, dropping him back down to the mat. With Corazon down, Mallows smirks and turns his attention once again to the screwdriver. Mallows grabs a hold of it and sort of spins it around in his hand, slowly walking towards the helpless victim who can’t even see it coming.

Other Guy: I refuse to watch this…

Jeff Hansen: Mallows just taunting this crowd now as we appear to be seeing this one come to its conclusion already.

Mallows pushes the cold tip of the screwdriver against the innocent man’s body and he instantly tries to thrash about, his muffled screaming barely heard through the burlap sack. The crowd is livid as Mallows draws the screwdriver across the man’s chest, not yet stabbing him. Biding his time. Corazon gets up though and Mallows turns sensing him approach. Mallows lifts the screwdriver but Corazon with a WICKED punch right to the mouth then he grabs Mallows by the wrist, twists his arm around once and applies pressure, FORCING Mallows to drop the screwdriver.

Jeff Hansen: Okay, OG, the scary parts over you can open your eyes now.

Other Guy: Shut up.

Corazon YANKS Mallows down to the mat, arm outstretched and face pushed on its side. While hovering over Mallows, Corazon STOMPS down on Mallows’s hand, causing him to shout out in pain. Corazon pulls him right back up from there, appears to go for a Russian leg sweep, but instead Mallows manages to shove Corazon forward right into the tied up man. Corazon stops himself from colliding, allowing for Mallows to capitalize, forcefully pulling Corazon’s head back and dropping him with a reverse DDT.

With Corazon down, Mallows sits up and grabs the screwdriver again, looking to stab the man, but Corazon gets right back into it nailing a sudden leg sweep kick that takes Mallows down to the mat. Corazon gets on top of him in a mounted position and just starts ASSAULTING Mallows with alternating elbow strikes. Mallows drops the screwdriver and lifts his arms up to defend himself, but Corazon shoves Mallows’s arms away and then grabs the screwdriver himself!

Jeff Hansen: Adrian Corazon HAS the screwdriver, and it’s like a reunion of sorts taking place on this VINTAGE episode of Jonnylution.

Corazon gets up off of Mallows and looks at the screwdriver in his hands. The crowd buzzes with curiosity and all at once they start chanting.

“PLEASE STAB MALLOWS!” clap clap clap-clap-clap! “PLEASE STAB MALLOWS!” clap clap clap-clap-clap!

Joey C.: Wow, talk about your bloodthirsty crowd.

Jeff Hansen: No respect shown what so ever, and it seems like the current SHOOT fan base has been consistently urged on by men like THAT Guy to have such violent thoughts about certain individuals in this industry.

Other Guy: Freedom of speech, Jeff.

Jeff Hansen: Not tonight, OG. I for one am SICK of this kind of behavior from the fans. They hate the idea of a first stab match, but now they’re CALLING for a stabbing. How absolutely hypocritical.

Corazon weighs his option and Mallows starts to sit up and nods his head, egging Corazon on.

Vincent Mallows: Go ahead, take the victory! Stab him!

Corazon looks to the screwdriver again, gripping it tighter in his hand.

Vincent Mallows: Let the blood of the innocent flow!

Corazon turns towards the man, and suddenly the chants stop and the fans begin to boo, letting it be known that they don’t want Corazon to stab the innocent man. Corazon seems to lunge at the tied up victim, but throws the screwdriver to the floor outside!

Other Guy: YES! YES! YES!

The crowd erupts as Corazon turns now and Mallows is up with a HUGE CLOTHESLINE! Corazon goes down and Mallows repeatedly stomps down on Corazon out of frustration. Corazon writhes from the stomps and Mallows soon lifts him up off his feet and shoves his face right up against the man’s chest.

Vincent Mallows: FOCUS, MR. CORAZON!

Mallows WHIPS Corazon back down, sending him back of the head first into the mat. Corazon clutches at his head and Mallows kicks him in the ribs, sending him over onto his stomach. Mallows continues on the offense, standing over Corazon, one leg on each side of his body, and he pulls up from there, locking Corazon into a full nelson. He twists his own body from side to side as applies the pressure, causing Corazon to clench his teeth in pain. Mallows lets go on his own volition though, causing Corazon to drop to his knees. Mallows looks to exit the ring, but Corazon is already getting up to his feet, and Mallows turns back and goes after him. He NAILS Corazon in the back of the head with a forearm shot, and shoves him into the upper right corner. Mallows turns him around, looks for an Irish whip into the lower left corner…. But Corazon counters, sending Mallows instead with SUCH force that Corazon falls forward onto the mat.

Corazon pushes up off the mat as Mallows staggers out of the lower left corner, and NAILS a LUNGING HOOK KICK!!! Mallows is dropped instantly and the crowd is once again back in this match, cheering Corazon on.

Other Guy: Big time kick from Corazon, and now he’s completely focused on takin’ Mallows out!

Joey C.: But that does him no good, OG. How many times do Jeff and I gotta repeat that. IF Corazon can’t stab a man, he can’t win the match.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, why the reserve now? He had no qualm nearly BLINDING Del Carver. What’s one more stabbing huh? It’s not like he HAS a good reputation anyway… that’s been shot to hell.

Corazon waits now as Mallows works on getting up to his feet, knocked for quite a loop from the lunging hook kick. Corazon steps in as Mallows turns around and looks to get Mallows up onto his shoulders…

Other Guy: Fury of the Dark Heart…

No Mallows fights back, throwing a couple of reckless elbows before Corazon can get him up completely. Corazon pulls back but fights right against Mallows’s strikes, now bringing up knee after knee into Mallows’s gut. Mallows falters, stumbling back away from Corazon. Corazon stays right after him, grabbing Mallows’s arm and pulling him right in, front facing headlock and with a great showing of strength and force, Corazon lifts Mallows up… stalls momentarily, and then DROPS him with a standard vertical suplex!

Again Mallows sits up, arching his back in pain and Corazon pulls him up from behind, YANKING his head back and then… A REVERSE VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Jeff Hansen: I’m impressed ONLY if this is all so Corazon has a free shot at stabbing the innocent here tonight.

Other Guy: Fuck… the more you remind me, the more I realize it’s a lose-lose situation for Corazon tonight and I absolutely HATE it.

Joey C.: Yeah but we all know your biased.

Other Guy: Seriously shut it now, Joey. I’m sick of your crap and can’t WAIT until this night is over so I don’t have to see your smarmy face again….

Jeff Hansen: Whoa there, sparks flying ringside as meanwhile Adrian Corazon is on his feet and he has this crowd going.

Sure enough the fans are cheering Corazon on as he paces back and forth now, deciding Mallows’s fate. Mallows stirs on the mat, once more getting up and as he gets up he points at the tied up individual, smiling with sadistic pleasure.

Vincent Mallows: Go on… stab him! Show your TRUE colors, Mr. Corazon!

Corazon bites on the taunt and RUSHES at Mallows. Mallows with a moment of surprise speed snaps up to his feet and CONNECTS with a vertical split leg crescent kick! Corazon staggers back a great deal and Mallows follows up with another huge clothesline…. But no! Corazon ducks JUST in time! Mallows stops himself from hitting the ropes, but Corazon faces his back and just PLOWS INTO MALLOWS…

And BOTH men spill to the outside!

Joey C.: Alright they’re outside which means somebody can get the screwdriver here.

Jeff Hansen: Its down to the wire possibly, and unlike last week we WILL see a conclusion to this match up, as Jonny Johnson himself has promised the wrestling world that we will be a stabbing.

Both men fight to get up to their feet first, with Corazon winning that race. He takes Mallows by the head and sends him BARRELING towards the guard railing! Mallows manages to turn his body, but his back still meets the steel barricade in full force! Mallows winces in pain and Corazon stays right on top of things grabbing Mallows up… but Mallows pulls Corazon in then whips his own body around to send Corazon FLYING shoulder first into the steel steps!


Corazon bounces off the steps, and the fans buzz with concern as he grabs at his shoulder, rocking back and forth in pain. Mallows leans up against the guard railing for a moment, taking the time to breathe before he slowly walks back over to Corazon only to STOMP violently down on the injured shoulder.

Jeff Hansen: He has a target now and knowing Vincent Mallows, he’s going to dissect Corazon’s…


The CROWD ERUPTS as out of nowhere Corazon snapped up and just DROPKICKED Mallows into the steps, sending the top half crashing to the floor!

Other Guy: One of the things that makes Adrian Corazon such a damn good competitor. He’s got agility that matches his strength and Mallows didn’t see it coming.

Mallows lies at the base of the lower half of the steel steps, while Corazon rises slowly up to his feet, rubbing his shoulder repeatedly. He eventually gets some feeling back and takes a hold of Mallows and rolls him into the ring. Corazon stays on the outside for a moment, dropping down to one knee. When he finally gets back into the ring, you can see the screwdriver in one hand, and a pair of handcuffs in the other.

Other Guy: Instruments of brutality if I ever saw em!

Jeff Hansen: And this is more or less the Adrian Corazon people were first introduced to here in SHOOT Project. It’s not enough that he’s going to stab that innocent man, but now he’s going to handcuff Mallows so that he can’t stop him.

Joey C.: And THIS is the man these people rally behind? I’m sickened!

Corazon looms behind Mallows, now dropping the screwdriver and wielding just the handcuffs as he watches him intently. Mallows turns and Corazon lunges with the handcuffs, looking to knock Mallows in the head with them… but Mallows ducks and Corazon spins around… LEFT HANDED EUROPEAN UPPERCUT… HOOKED… SPIKE DDT….

NO! Corazon shoves Mallows straight down, avoiding being dropped directly on the head. Mallows quickly sends a boot out into Corazon’s gut then rises up to his feet… another Left handed European uppercut… NO! Corazon leans back to dodge the hard strike and then leaps… with a double knee FACE BREAKER!!!!


Mallows is out on the mat and now Corazon holds the handcuffs up in the air. The crowd continues to cheer loudly as Corazon drags Mallows closer to the edge of the ring. There he fastens one side of the handcuffs to Mallows’s wrist and then attaches the other end to the second ring rope, detaining Mallows.

Jeff Hansen: Adrian Corazon apparently values victory over his morals as those handcuffs prevent Mallows from winning and leave the former World Champion WIDE open to win.

Joey C.: Oh yeah, one stab away from a victory, Jeff. The Sons of Liberty are going to be SO proud.

With Mallows unable to go after Corazon, Corazon turns his attention to the screwdriver. The mood changes as Corazon picks up his known weapon of choice. Shouts of don’t do it and other such phrases somewhat blurt together, creating an overall buzz of concern from the fans, but Corazon approaches the tied up man, which only causes the crowd to get louder.

Jeff Hansen: This match is as good as Corazon’s and yet nothing. Obviously a moral dilemma, which shouldn’t be the case for someone who heralds himself as brutal and inhuman.

Corazon plays with the screwdriver in his hand, gripping it tightly, then releasing it slightly, only to grip it again. Mallows starts to come to at this point and scrambles up to his feet, looking to attack Corazon, but then the realization of his predicament sets in and Mallows shifts his focus to the handcuff attached to the rope. Corazon continues to stall, the fans chanting for him not to do it. Mallows takes a seat on the mat, smirking slightly as he waits for the inevitable end.

Vincent Mallows: Come on, Mr. Corazon…

Corazon snaps his head in Mallows’s direction, only for Mallows to nod his head, mouthing the words “stab him.” Corazon turns back to the man, obviously grappling with something inside of him, but then he turns away all together and walks to the edge of the ring, motioning for a microphone.

Joey C.: What the hell? Mister man of few words callin’ for a microphone?

Jeff Hansen: Probably to apologize to these fans for what they’re about to witness. Better watch this, OG, one of the so called heroes is about to STAB an innocent man.

A microphone is placed in Corazon’s hand and he turns back, now focused on Mallows.

Corazon: Before I do this… I just want to say I thought it was amusing to hear you talk about innocence, Vincent, and then it occurred to me… why stab an innocent man?

The crowd picks up and Mallows’s grin immediately fades. He sneers at Corazon.

Corazon: You see… throughout the history of this great, great country, the legal entity known as our justice system has introduced a great deal of loopholes… such as reasonable doubt.

A brief pause and a sense of confidence arises in the very body language of Corazon. He swings the screwdriver back in forth by its tip, mimicking the way Mallows handled one earlier this week.

Corazon: In your promos, you made it very clear that you were so clever that you supplanted a broken, crippled man, in the form of yourself, while you were off in the clouds, wrestling as the Evil Eye, a name that is kind of ironic, given our current situation… but the fact was, you were full of absenteeism, and I couldn’t help but smile when you said that.

The cheering fans now settle in, not entirely sure what Corazon is talking about. Mallows on the other hand seems to grow more and more concerned as he rises slowly up to his feet.

Corazon: So, Vincent, you gave me an idea. I’m going to give you credit for pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. You’ve done a FANTASTIC job of not being here, and because of that… BECAUSE of the VERY present, VERY evident reasonable doubt… I can’t say you’re a guilty party in the things that have transpired here.

And then panic. Mallows starts tugging at the handcuffs and the ring ropes, trying to free himself as Corazon marches forward, now gripping the screwdriver tightly.

Corazon: Therefore I, your judge, jury, and executioner… proclaim you…

Mallows swings his one arm out wildly, but Corazon is there a fraction of a second earlier and he PLUNGES the screwdriver into Mallows, stabbing him just under the shoulder blade and above the armpit!!!

Corazon: …INNOCENT!

Corazon backs away as Mallows slumps to the mat, WAILING in pain as he clutches at the screwdriver now sticking out of his body. Willie Dean stands in stunned silence but then suddenly calls for the bell!

Other Guy: HAH! Adrian Corazon turned this match against Vincent Mallows and I’d say justice prevails in this twisted game!

Jeff Hansen: Why the hell is the referee calling this match? This is YET again another example of terrible officiating and I hope it’s thoroughly looked into.

“Torcher” plays again as the fans rise up to their feet, cheering loudly.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match… ADRIAN CORAZON!!!

Mallows continues to writhe in agony and shock from being stabbed and Corazon simply raises his arms in victory before motioning for Willie Dean to untie the helpless man.

Jeff Hansen: This wasn’t about stabbing Vincent, that’s not the rules to this match!

Other Guy: Mallows got one upped, Jeff and should have chosen his words better. The rule to this match was stab an innocent man, and Adrian Corazon proclaimed that Vincent Mallows isn’t guilty at all, but innocent! Fuckin’ BRILLIANT!

As Corazon focuses a fixated stare on the writhing body of Vincent Mallows, “The Greater Good” by Nine Inch Nails suddenly begins to play, causing Corazon to snap his head in the direction of the entryway. The crowd buzzes as Sammy Rochester storms out from the back, wailing in sadness as he shakes his head repeatedly. Corazon thinks better of confronting the large monster-child, and exits the ring on the other side, watching as Sammy pulls himself up onto the ring edge and EASILY clears the top rope in one lift of his leg.

Jeff Hansen: Shades of the ending of the Iron Fist Championship match between Kenji Yamada and Osbourne Kilminster as once again this monster with the brain of a small boy comes to his family’s aid.

Joey C.: Like the youngest brother trying to stop his parents from splitting up.

Sammy continues to cry over Mallows who looks to be in a great deal of pain. Sammy focuses on the handcuffs, tugging at one end profusely until the chain snaps off completely, thus freeing Mallows. With the screwdriver still stuck in his body, and Mallows gripping it tightly, Sammy scoops Vincent up and doesn’t even turn to look at Corazon. Instead Sammy exits the ring, crying as he cradles Mallows in his arms.

Other Guy: So god damn weird.

Jeff Hansen: I still can’t get over the fact that Adrian Corazon won this match up… what a blatant use of a loophole…

The camera focuses on Corazon who watches on while Sammy carries Mallows the back. And after a moment the action picks up elsewhere.


We are greeted to the screen going completely black. There’s a pause, maybe 15 seconds in time, where nothing happens. Then, erupting onto the screen are digital letters, it shiny chromed blue, which say, simply…


This title fades, and we finally see an actual human being. Handsome to a point, wearing an Affliction shirt with blonde hair and hazel eyes, he appears to be adjusting a camera. A nameplate appears below him, labeling this man as ‘“STYLE WARRIOR” CURTIS ROSE’. After another moment of Fiddling, the gentleman sits back onto a couch scratching his chin absently.

Style Warrior: Yo, Axe! Think I finally got this thing to work!

At this, a man walks into the frame. Once he’s there for comparison, it’s apparent that he’s a massive human being, easily towering over the other gentleman, and possibly twice as wide. Stoic looking, with his long, curly black hair pulled into a ponytail and clad in a fashionable polo shirt and madras shorts, he lowers his bulk onto the couch. A Nameplate appears below him as well, letting everyone know that he is ‘ALEXANDER VAKA’. He sighs before looking over to his accomplice, speaking in a stern whisper.

Alexander Vaka: I told you, that “Axe” business isn’t going to fly. My name is Alexander. Use it.

Curtis holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, seemingly backing off.

Style Warrior: Whatevs, brosef.

This, of course, elicits an exasperated groan from the big man, who clears his throat and puts on a big smile for the camera.

Alexander Vaka: Greetings to you all, fans and employees of SHOOT Project.

Style Warrior:Do Not adjust your television sets…

Alexander Vaka: …Of course, I was under the impression that we had agreed to Not to do the whole “Outer Limits” intro, but, well…there it happened. Regardless, we are in fact not Here to welcome you, ladies and gentleman. Rather…you’re here to greet Us.

There’s a pause, and finally Vaka looks over to Curtis, who has been gauging the height difference this entire time with his hands. Finally, Curtis slides up and onto the back of the couch, effectively making his almost as tall as his compatriot.

Style Warrior: Look, s’not like we’re here to do the whole “We Takin’ Ovah!” spiel. That’d be lame, wouldn’t it? I’m the anti-lame. But! But…I will do the whole “New Blood” dog-and-pony-show. As in, yer bone dry, and you need it. Thus, me.

This elicits a glare from Vaka, to which Curtis drops his shoulders and gives his own exasperated sigh.

Style Warrior: M’bad…Us. Happy?

Alexander Vaka: Well, not quite. You see, Curtis and I—

Style Warrior: Dude, call me the ‘Style Warrior’.

Alexander Vaka:Curtis and I have spent many’s the year in so-called “Indy” federations. We’ve made the proverbial splash, as well. But we long for so much more, for what young American male does not?

Style Warrior: Belts, Gold, Names, Lights, bing-bong-bing, the whole sh’bang.

At this, Curtis hops to the floor, looking excitedly at Vaka, then directly to the camera, his eyes shimmering.

Style Warrior: I mean, you feel it, right? You feel the crazy energy, don’t you America? I feel it. I know this big fella does!

Curtis leaps onto the Couch, his arm extended with his palm flat.

Style Warrior: Up High, man! Own the vibe!

Vaka, his arms crossed, looks sideways towards his visibly excited partner. He sighs and leans a little towards Curtis.

Alexander Vaka: I’ll only ‘Go High’ if you promise to stick to the talking points I prepared. Deal?

Curtis nods his head, his grin undiminished. Vaka Finally extends his hand, giving Rose the high five.

Alexander Vaka: Now, as we were saying…We will be debuting soon. In regards to that…

Vaka reaches off-screen and retrieves a manila folder.

Alexander Vaka: …it has come to my attention that the Tag Team Title Belts are currently not in the hands of the champions. Now, finger pointing could go on all day from here. Who is at fault? Management? Long Island Hardcore themselves? The hooligans who perpetrated the crime? I’m not to say. But I have a proposal in my hands that I believe will suit all parties involved. In this simple position piece, I have laid out an outline of even—

Style Warrior: Dude. Serious. Stop it. I’m that coveted 18-35 demographic, and you’re boring me to tears.

Alexander Vaka: Oh, I see, you just want me to…expediate the process, then?

Style Warrior: Bro, expediate it, speed it up, hurry it the hell onward whatever.

There’s a tense moment, but it passes, as Vaka sighs and sets the folder back off-screen.

Alexander Vaka: Look, it’s simple. Base criminals have stolen the belts from those who earned them. We take this belts back…a form of citizen’s arrest, really. We’re…concerned, see? So, we’ll return these belts to their rightful owners. They, overwhelmed by gratitude, will give us a chance to win those belts from them as actual, honorable men would. It’s fairly airtight, really.

Style Warrior: Hell yeah! So while them two mooks walk around with their head down in sadness, we’ll be doing their work for them! They’ll have no choice!

Now, Alexander recrosses his arms and a smug smile crosses his face.

Alexander Vaka: Exactly, Friend.

Curtis leaps back down from the couch, striking a pose that wouldn’t be out of place in a heavy metal video. Or a promo video from 1983.

Style Warrior: Take heed, take notice, take something to calm your nerves; Do whatever you have to do, folks. We’re here. And while we’re not well-known just yet, trust me, we will be. You can have your gay J-Pop fellas, your New Yahk Mooks, even petty thieves. But trust, you ain’t experienced anything like his before. And yes, I know everyone says that. It just so happens to be true with us.

Curtis finally exhales and flops back onto the couch, his grin on full blast. Vaka pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, and we fade to black…


Abigail Chase, who has rarely seen any television time since being suspended indefinitely from her job as interviewer, has seen her fair share of the camera in just this one night. Her match, something she never thought she’d ever be a part of, is over. She sits in the medical examination room as one of the SHOOT Project trainers tends to her.

Trainer: Nothing horribly bad, at all. Couple stitches fixed you right up.

Chase nods.

Abigail Chase: Yeah, I guess it could have been a lot worse.

There is a slight sense of uncertainty in Abigail’s words, but she smiles anyway as does the trainer.

Trainer: Yep, a whole lot worse considering the vultures flying around here.

He applies a small bandage over the stitches and pats her gently on the shoulder.

Trainer: There you go. All set.

Abigail drops down off the high table and turns to the trainer.

Abigail Chase: Thanks so much Aaron.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN abruptly and with GREAT force. The thwack! sound it makes causes Abigail to turn around and her mouth drops wide, letting out a horrific scream! Sammy charges into the room, frantic as all hell, and doesn’t even seem to see Abigail, or at least doesn’t acknowledge her.

Sammy Rochester: Take it out! Take it out! Take it out! TAKE IT THE FUCK OUT!

Sammy places Mallows on the examining table and Mallows, conscious but in pain grips Sammy’s arm tightly.

Vincent Mallows: Damn… it… calm yourself Sammy. Please. You’re only making it worse.

Sammy nods his head and quiets down but continually points to Vincent, and more specifically the screwdriver he holds that is stuck in his body.

Sammy Rochester: Now now now now now… take it out… take IT OUT!

The trainer gets to work quickly, not wishing to upset the monster-child any further. Mallows’s eyes wander over to Abigail who has been stunned out of fear.

Vincent Mallows: I’m… I’m terribly sorry. He can finish up with you, this… yes… mmm… this can wait…. Arghghhh…

Abigail just shakes her head no, but can get out no words.

Vincent Mallows: Very well then. Believe us though; we aren’t here to harm you. I’m in no physical position to do so, and well… Sammy’s concern rests solely on me at this moment. So just go ahead and worry about your boyfriend.

She starts to slink out of the room slowly, feeling that any sudden movements might cause Sammy to react. Sammy however is fixated on the screwdriver as the trainer brings over one of the doctors and the two go about trying to remove the screwdriver carefully as to not do any further damage.

Vincent Mallows: Though I guess if you BELIEVE him hitting you was for the best, then there is nothing to worry about at all…

And Abigail stops. She knows better but she stops anyway.

Abigail Chase: I’m not playing games with you, Vincent. I know what you’re trying to do. I won’t listen.

Vincent Mallows: And right you shouldn’t. You have faith in your boyfriend, I just… I just didn’t expect it myself and I’ve known him for quite some time… well… maybe I thought I’ve known him. Do we really know anyone though? Ms. Chase, do you REALLY know who Christopher Davis is?

The question lingers with such sickening doubt dripping from it that Abigail forces herself out of the room, not wishing to deal with Mallows any longer. A twisted smile forms on his face, and in that moment you wouldn’t think he was hurting at all.

Sammy Rochester: TOO FUCKING SLOW!

Sammy SWATS his massive arm out, taking both the trainer and the doctor out. Mallows’s eyes go wide as Sammy grips the screwdriver and YANKS it out of Mallows’s shoulder.


His voice echoes within the room and Sammy looks to be completely frightened by the sudden scream. Mallows quickly applies pressure and Sammy flings gauze and Kleenex and any absorbent material in Vincent’s direction.

Sammy Rochester: It’s going to be all better, right? Everything is going to be fine?

As Mallows starts treating his own wound he just nods his head.

Vincent Mallows: Yes, Sammy. Everything is more than fine.

Mallows’s eyes wander back in the direction, which Abigail left.

Vincent Mallows: Everything is perfect.



An impatient REAL DEAL walks down the hallways leading away from the guerilla position. He looks up at a clock on one of the walls and sighs, moving more quickly after realizing how little time is left until he and his tag team partner are due up.

Real Deal: Damnit, Jonny.

Real Deal turns a corner and arrives just outside of the SHOOT Project WORLD CHAMPION’S locker room. He looks at the door and shakes his head.

However, as he reaches in to knock.

It opens.


The fans can be heard audibly booing in the background as soon as THE DEFILER, JONNY JOHNSON arrives out of his locker room. The FIRST TIME anyone has seen him all night. Jonny’s in ring attire. Black wrestling trunks, black boots, white tape around his knuckles, and a yellow T-shirt that has “HOPE” scrawled across the front in black sharpie marker.

Of course, the SHOOT Project WORLD TITLE is draped over his left shoulder, which he adjusts as he stares back at Real Deal.

Real Deal: You’re an asshole.

Jonny sniffs.

The DEFILER: So I’ve heard.

The duo makes their way down the hall, heading back toward the guerrilla position.

In silence

****MAIN EVENT****

jester and king vs DEFILER and real deal

All of a sudden, the sounds of a ring bell ringing is heard over the PA system. The fans instantly start to give a loud favored reaction. The ring bell suddenly fizzles out. Without warning, the music kicks in and the lights dim out. The SHOOT Tron shows one single symbol.




The SHOOT Tron crackles to life and green tinted electrical currents flow across the screen.

Jeff Hansen: Glad to see the Tron problems have been taken care of. Just in time for this evening’s MAIN EVENT. And what a main event this is going to be. SOOOO much at stake, Joey.

Joey C: Well as we see Donovan King has elected to come out first this evening, perhaps a show of respect to his teamate, who has EVERYTHING to lose this evening if he and King cannot defeat Real Deal and The World Heavyweight Champion.





Jeff Hansen: Of course we’re talking about one Jester Smiles… 2008 Master of the Mat who has been bragging and showing off his title for the better half of three weeks… Well, now he and King HAVE to secure a PIN FALL or SUBMISSION victory or Jester forfeits his World Title Shot.

The green electrical current forms the shape of a crown as Donovan King stands on the entrance wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, his head bowed and the hood pulled tightly over his head and face. He bobs his head to the beat as the song slowly picks up.

Joey C: Crowd is on their feet early. Big time feel heading into this one, Jeff.




The music picks up as King begins to shake his wrists loose and bounce from one foot to another.




The man pounds his fists together in front of him, bouncing faster and faster.



Pyro EXPLODES in succession with the bass line!




“Out Here Grindin’” by DJ Khaled, Akon, Rick Ross, Plies, Lil’ Boosie, Trick Daddy, Ace Hood, and Lil Wayne TEARS open the PA system as King rips the hood off and screams out to the fans in attendance. The reaction is MASSIVE. King unzips his hooded sweatshirt, unveiling his bare chest, his lone tattoo across his right breast of “est. 1983” in plain view of the camera. On the rear of his trunks is the Sons of Liberty symbol.


King slides under the bottom rope and pops up, pointing out to the fans, running backwards, shouting to them to get up, which they do. He pounds his chest and jumps up onto the middle turnbuckle, still pointing out to the fans. He hops down as “Out Here Grindin’” dies down.

As soon as the music fades, King turns toward the entrance way and begins to applaud.


“Pressure” by Skindred suddenly BLARES over the PA system and the crowd ROARS AGAIN!!!

Samantha Coil: Hailing from Richmond Virginia and weighing in at Two-Hundred, forty-five pounds… HERE IS JESTER SMILES!!!

Jester leaps out from the back, a big smile on his face. Unfortunately, his VIDEO TRON FOOTAGE shows only images of Jester in losing efforts, with a reoccurring clip of him being eliminated from the Redemption Rumble at the hands of the DEFILER playing over and over after other pieces of footage.

King shakes his head but Jester doesn’t let it get to him. Instead, he shrugs for the cameras and says “Yep. It happened”. He then picks up his pace, still smiling, and heads closer to the fans, slapping hands with this rabid PRO JESTER CROWD. King seems impressed with his partner’s mental fortitude and continues to applaud, going so far as to pop the ring ropes open for him.

Jester nods at King and hustles toward the ring, hopping up on the apron and accepting his gesture.

Other Guy: (Almost to himself) C’mon, boys.

Jeff Hansen: Oh. You ARE still a part of this broadcast. Good to know, OG.

Smiles and King shake hands once Jester is in the ring, and then check in with the incoming official RON WELLINGTON. Wellington meets the team near their corner and does a quick pat down, while “Pressure” by Skindred fades out.

The greetings are quickly cut short.

Because the lights go out.

Seven or eight pink spotlights begin to

The haunting chimes that signal the WORLD CHAMPION’S ARRIVAL begin to creep into the Thomas and Mack Center.

“Ibi Dreams of Pavement” by Broken Social

A guitar croaks out a single note, and is soon followed by a whining violin!



Samantha Coil: And their OPPONENTS…weighing in at a combined weight of Four-Hundred, Fifty-Seven pounds… THE REAL DEAL and the SHOOT PROJECT HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPION OF THE WORLD… THE DEFILER, JONNY JOHNSON!!!!

Despite being announced, neither man appears quite yet, allowing for the spotlights to circle in rhythm with the maddening dissonance!

It swells.

And swells, and swells… AND SWELLS





“Well, I got shot right in the back,

And you weren’t there, you weren’t there.”

As the lyrics kick in, Jonny and Real Deal push through the curtains and receive an UNBELIEVABLE VOLATILE REACTION! The BOOOOOOOS ring out almost as loudly as the whiny, Indie-Rock number currently playing. But, being the pros they are, neither man is fazed. The World Champ leans in to have a word with Josh, who nods as both men stride down to the ring together in toe.

“I said I was never coming back,

And you weren’t there, you weren’t there.”

Jeff Hansen: And you see the biggest advantage already coming into play… These are two men who know ALL ABOUT the ins and outs of tag team wrestling, and they arrive on a unified front.

Both men stop just at the end of the aisle and stare into the ring, taking their time as the song continues on. King and Smiles both press the edges of the ring, making sure neither man has an opportunity to pose or gloat nearby. King waves at Real Deal and Jonny to bring it, while Jester holds the ropes open!

Real Deal and The World Champ just smirk and watch them.

”When I thought the islands were under attack,

You weren’t there, you weren’t there.”

When I saw the bedroom, wasn’t too sure,

‘Cause you weren’t there, you weren’t there.”

The song dips into its chorus, and with it, the lighting scheme shifts into trippy droplets of light seemingly falling from the ceiling.

“And if God is what we made.

Cut their hands on the needles

Don’t get high on what you create.”

Real Deal puts out his arms


MORE PYRO! FLYING OFF FROM INSIDE THE RING!!! Neither King nor Jester flinch!!!

“I saw the geysers, turn into death!

You weren’t there, you weren’t there!”

JESTER, WITHOUT REGARD FOR HIS OWN SAFETY, SUDDENLY LAUNCHES HIMSELF OVER THE TOP ROPE AND FLIES AT JONNY AND REAL DEAL!!! He mostly nails Jonny, but Josh takes a bit of a fall backward!!! Jonny is down, though!!!

The fans FREAK OUT!!!

Jeff Hansen: (Legit Shocked) HOLY SHIT!


Real Deal IMMEDIATELY charges at Jester and King storms out of the ring! King goes after Josh and cuts him off before he gets to Jester!!! Wellington races to the outside to try and get the competitors in the ring! Security begins to rush down toward the ring as well and Jonny is able to scamper out of the way!

A guard suddenly pulls King away from Real Deal, and the Interim President uses the opportunity to BLAST KING IN THE FACE WITH A CHEAP SHOT FOREARM!!!


King tries to fight back, but the guard pulls him harder! Two of them actually, with a second one joining, knowing that King is fully capable of going one on one with any of these guys. At the same time a guard is able to pull Josh back! Jonny has almost evaded the scene completely, slinking along the far side of the ring now, ducking low near the mats. Jester shouts something at Real Deal.

Wellington is shouting at all three men and the guards starting push King back toward the ring.

Jeff Hansen: Wellington trying to restore order.

Other Guy: Yeah with a security team that’s no doubt paid off by the World Champion and Friends. Damnit.

Eric seems to cool off a little sooner than King and realizes the only way this can work in their favor is for them to agree. A disqualification or forefit… anything OTHER than a pin or submission victory is going to ruin everything he’d worked for! He pulls King back now, but it’s obvious King isn’t taking this very well. He actually shoos Jester away on contact and continues to shout at the Real Deal while trying to pull away from the guards. Jester now aggressively pulls back harder, turning King around and King throws up his fists READY to attack! He glares at Smiles, but Jester holds his ground and tries to reason with his partner. In the meantime, Real Deal has thrown his hands in the air and starts to walk toward his corner of the ring. At the other end, Jonny has actually slide inside, and stalks the perimeter, stretching and warming up as though this were just another day at the office.

Jeff Hansen: A crazy scene to start this one. And it looks like King and Jester may be having some communication issues early.

Other Guy: Yeah well anything short of a pin or tap out for these boys means Jester’s run is over and this is just typical bullshit from the World Champion. He can’t just fucking man up and fight! What a GODDAMN son of a bitch!

The guards, along with Jester have successfully managed to push King back toward their corner at the far side of the ring. King is still HOT, but seems to be cooling off. He and Eric pound fists on the outside and it’s the leader of the Sons of Liberty who enters the ring. The guards check with Wellington, who has now reentered the ring, and he signals that everything is okay. They nod and begin to exit one by one, until all six of them have headed back up the ramp.

Jeff Hansen: Ron Wellington with an excellent job of maintaining control, and really making a bid for future work. Outstanding job from our Jonnylution head official.

Seeing King in the ring, Jonny inches back toward his corner and leans his head in near Real Deal who is in their corner, holding on to the “tag-rope” attached to the top turnbuckle. Whatever The World Champion is saying, Josh is seemingly agreeing with. He nods and he and Jonny switch places.

King smirks and the fans “BOOOOOOOO” probably wanting to watch Jonny get his ass kicked by ANYONE at this juncture. The DEFILER, however, confidently makes his exit, and Real Deal is all too glad to enter.

Wellington nods at both competitors and calls for the bell.


Jeff Hansen: All right. We are UNDER way. Main Event. Jester and King HAVE to win, or it’s BYE BYE to Misses Rohkar’s Baby Boy’s automatic title shot!

Joey C: That would be a shame if he lost. I’m sure his dead mom would be very upset at him for losing. His dead dad too. His dead parents would be PISSED. No doubt, Jeff.

Other Guy: Classless punks, man. Totally classless. (Directed toward King and Jester) Let’s kick this shit in gear, boys! (Clapping) Take this down!

So it begins with Real Deal and King. Both competitors size each other up, very familiar with one another from past encounters. Real Deal nods and King WANTS THIS BAD. He nods in return and moves in very aggressively at his opponent! He backs Real Deal up quickly into the ropes and attempts and Irish whip, but Real Deal is able to spin him around! But King quickly RE-counters with an over the shoulder THROW! Real Deal flips in the air and lands on his back, scooting across the mat! King moves in to continue the attack, but Real Deal gets a high kick off from his back and nails King in the side of the face with a glancing blow strong enough to slow him down! King shakes it off and Real Deal gets to his feet!

Jeff Hansen: Intense action early from two very intense competitors. Again, there is a LOT on the line tonight. Eric Smiles’s opportunity to challenge for the world title could be no more by the end of this bout. And Lord, I hope that’s the way it ends.

Real Deal plays the aggressor now and moves in high on King with a grapple! The two men lock horns again but King is able to position into an arm drag! He takes Josh down to the mat and locks in a fairly simple armbar! He cinches in and wrenches back, until being momentarily distracted by his own corner. Jester has his arm out looking for an “IN” and King works the hold up to his feet, considering a tag. However, the stall gives Real Deal enough time to escape and push King off of him. Real Deal takes a few steps back and King seems frustrated. He seems to be considering turning around and resuming the bout on his own, but instead he slaps Jester’s outstretched hand.

Wellington signals for a tag and JESTER SMILES enters the ring. Real Deal taunts him to make a move but Jester shakes his head and points to what he wants.


The fans POP LOUDLY, but Jonny could not seem any less interested in accepting Jester’s challenge. He very honestly shakes his head.

The DEFILER: Fat chance, dude.

Eric shakes his head and can’t help but smile.

Real Deal shrugs.

Jester doesn’t have a lot of other options so he moves in on Real Deal! Josh takes a few steps back! Eric stays on him… Josh reaches out and SLAPS HIM! Eric is momentarily stunned! Real Deal reaches back and tags in Jonny who STORMS the ring and LEVELS Smiles with a charging forearm strike to the side of the head!!!


Other Guy: God… He is such a bitch!

Jeff Hansen: Quick and effective team work from Real Deal and the World Champ.

Real Deal exits, while Jonny locks in a front face lock and keeps Smiles planted near the mat. He applies a little bit of pressure and begins to bring him up off the mat! Jonny slams a knee into Jester’s torso and then drops to a knee, trying to cut off circulation early. King slaps the ring rope and tries to get the crowd behind his tag team partner! They respond with A SERIES OF CLAPS! Jonny laughs off the reaction and spins around with back to his corner. He reaches over his shoulder with his free hand and makes a quick tag into Real Deal! Jonny then quickly executes a standing suplex and DRIVES Jester to the mat! Real Deal then DRIVES a knee right into Jester’s face!!!

Jeff Hansen: And Real Deal with a lateral press! Pin fall attempt!

Wellington drops down to the mat! King comes into his partner’s aid!


Wellington stops the count and QUICKLY gets up to stop King! Real Deal then coyly gets Eric off the mat and HURLS HIM SHOULDER FIRST INTO THE CORNER!


King tries to spin Wellington around, pointing to his opponent’s corner!

At that same instant, Jonny, from the apron CHARGES AT A VULNERABLE JESTER SMILES WITH A YAKUZA KICK!


Jeff Hansen: OH THE IMPACT!

Joey C: Oh Jesus!

Jonny’s foot SLAMS into Eric’s head, which then SLAMS INTO THE RING POST!!!

Jeff Hansen: Donovan King just got his partner KILLED!!!

Eric’s body falls limp and Josh pulls him out of the corner. But King is NOT BACKING DOWN! He finally shoves Wellington out of the way and goes after Josh! Wellington turns and tries to grab King back! King spins and ALMOST hits the referee!!!

Jeff Hansen: This is a mess!

Wellington puts his arms out! King shakes his head! Turns around!




Real Deal shouts out an audible “FUCK!” He turns around…





But even in the huge momentum swing, Hansen remains smug on commentary.

Jeff Hansen: Donovan King trying to make up for causing the potential DEATH of his tag team partner, but now there’s no referee! (Laughing) King really struggling with this team concept tonight.

King quickly moves to Eric who is near Jonny and Real Deal’s corner and tries to help back up. Meanwhile, on the apron, Jonny just watches all of this happen. King looks up and the two men lock eyes.

Other Guy: Beat his ass, King. BEAT HIS ASS!

Jonny doesn’t move from his spot outside the ring. He just stands there, holding on to the “tag rope”. In fact he even mockingly reaches his hand out after a second or two and shrugs.

The DEFILER: (Off Mic) Can’t quite reach, man. Can’t quite reach. (Smiling, Pointing at his partner) I’ll tell you what… Go pin, Josh. I’ll count… cause I can do that. You pin him and you can have Jester’s shot. Hell…. I’ll go further Donny… I’ll make you Master of the Mat!

King shakes his head and simply takes a step in front of Jester’s body.

KING waves for Jonny to bring it.

Donovan King: (Off Mic) Don’t worry, Jonny. Soon enough I’ll pin the one person I need to.

And DEFIANTLY King raises his middle finger!

Jonny looks frustrated and turns his head an sports a tight-lipped grimace.

Other Guy: LOOK OUT!!!

All of a sudden TIM CALAHAN CHARGES INTO THE RING!!! But King senses his presence and turns and turns in time to lower the effect of the attack! Calahan flails his arms but King is able to CATCH HIM WITH A SICK LEFT HAND!!! CALAHAN GOES DOWN AND ROLLS OUT OF THE RING!!! Jonny charges the ring…


Jonny’s down!!! King immediately rushes over to Jester, realizing he’s moving! Eric’s forehead is DRIPPING with blood! King tries to help him up!!! Unfortunately, OSBOURNE KILMINSTER and SINNOCENCE START TO RUN OUT! THEN FOLLOWED BY NOVA!!! Real Deal is stirring now too! King looks all around him!!!

Jeff Hansen: GET HIM!!! C’mon boys and girls!

The crowd stirs more, though because ALL OF A SUDDEN DANNY EVERS, AINSLEY LAKE, NIGHTMARE, JUMP OVER THE RAILINGS ALL AROUND THE RING, each one in a different area!!! They all have on SONS OF LIBERTY T-shirts and seem to have been in this position all night!!! Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova have all been neutralized!!! They stand stock still! Inside the ring, Ron Wellington starts to come to! Real Deal makes to a knee and looks up to see the battle lines being drawn right before his eyes.

He starts shaking his head and calling for Mark Kendrick to ring the bell!


King turns to see Real Deal and charges! Real Deal tries to escape, but BOTH MEN GO CRASHING THROUGH THE ROPES AND TUMBLE TO THE FLOOR!!! Real Deal tries to get away from the skirmish!!! King stays active!!! All of a sudden a barely conscious, but still ticking CALAHAN CHARGES KING FROM BEHIND, this time landing an axe handle shot to the back of his head!!!

In the ring, Jonny starts to pull himself up. Smiles still looks down and out.

Jeff Hansen: What the hell is going on here! Get them out of here!!! GODDAMNIT! Josh! I got it, man!!!

Jeff throws his head set down.


His headset goes down!!!


ON THE OUTSIDE OTHER GUY SPEARS THE EVER LOVING FUCK OUT OF JEFF HANSEN!!!!!! Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova want to make a move, but they’re being held at bay by Ainsley, Evers and Nightmare!!!


In the commotion, OG and Jeff tumble back in toward Joey, who loses HIS head set!!!

Jester Smiles starts to stir, and Jonny seems almost completely out of sorts!

Like he’s watching something slowly start to crumble.

Real Deal goes up to Samantha Coil and grabs her microphone but suddenly stops… and turns almost ghost white as AZAZEL AND LEVIATHAN EMERGE FROM THE CROWD AND STEP OVER THE GUARD RAIL, watching over the ring bell and Samantha Coil like a hawk! AND REAL DEAL GETS DRILLED FROM BEHIND BY KING!!!

Back inside the ring… Jonny sees Wellington up. Jester is to his feet. His back to him. Jonny moves in.







Other Guy manages to grab a headset, with Jeff and Joey victims of this skirmish!

Other Guy: DO IT!! (Still trying to get in on right) PIN HIM!!!

Smiles, with blood pouring down his face is… SMILING! HE FALLS BACK TOWARD JONNY!!!

Ron Wellington… maybe not aware of what is happening, looks up and sees the pin fall attempt!

King turns around and sees it happening!!! HE HAS HIS HANDS IN THE AIR RUNNING TOWARD THE RING!!!


Wellington starts his count.






Wellington CALLS FOR THE BELL!!!

Other Guy: YES!!! YEEESSSSSSS!!!!



Ainsley, Nightmare, King, and Evers DOG PILE ON TOP OF SMILES IN CELEBRATION!!! While Osbourne, Sinnocence and Nova storm into the ring to pull the bloodied, discombobulated World Champion out of the ring!!! Real Deal holds at the back of his head and SLAMS his hand into the ground, while Calahan rolls around fighting for his consciousness.


“Pressure” by Skindred begins to play again. Real Deal sees Jonny in bad shape outside the ring and quickly goes to check in on him. He shakes his head.

Real Deal: NO! NO! FUCK!!!


Ainsley takes her SoL shirt off and hands it to Jester as they lift the victorious clown up off the mat! Jester clutches the shirt into his chest and then raises it HIGH OVER HIS HEAD!!!

Real Deal, Kilminster, Nova and Sinn now STORM toward official Ron Wellington who tries to escape!

Real Deal: (Off Mic) REVERSE IT RIGHT NOW! Disqualify them! This is horseshit!

Wellington seems totally confused and fearful for his job and runs away!

Real Deal: (Shouting) Get me a goddamn mic! SOMEONE GET ME A MICROPHONE! Goddamnit it!

The fans start to BOOOOOOO very loudly and the music cuts out. Which then draws the attention of the Sons of Liberty. Real Deal moves back away from the group and gets the microphone himself… He also grabs the SHOOT Project WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP and moves back to Jonny and the others.



He hands the World Title over to Osbourne who props it up against Jonny’s shoulder. The World Champion appears to be in another world, and possibly suffering from a severe concussion.

Real Deal: I’m over ruling this! YOU UNDERSTAND! King and Eric… You guys are DISQUALIFIED! (Looking to Jonny) You hear that Jonny. WE DID IT, MAN! YOU DID IT! (Glaring back into the ring) It’s fucking OFFICIAL. Jester Smiles… you are STRIPPED OF YOUR WORLD TITLE SHOT!!!

There’s a very strange desperation in this moment.

And Jonny… perhaps the very reason it is happening.

Is completely gone.


Before Real Deal can say over, he’s interrupted.

But not by Jester Smiles.

Not by Donovan King.

Not Ainsley, or Evers, or even Nightmare.

But by a common voice belonging to a man who calmly walks down the aisle.

Former SHOOT Project official, TONY LORENZO.

Tony Lorenzo: Over? (Shaking his head) No. It’s not.

Lorenzo, in a grey suit, with a white button-up shirt- top button undone, walks up to the ring and enters, where he is greeted fondly, but with confusion from the members of Sons of Liberty.

Real Deal: Tony?! WHAT THE FU…

Lorenzo sighs and looks up toward the rafters.

Tony Lorenzo: I need his microphone cut. Um. Specific orders.

Everyone watches on with confusion. Real Deal tries to get in another word…

But his microphone has indeed been cut out.

Tony Lorenzo: (Clearing his throat, focusing on speaking as clearly as he can) Look. I realize I’m not important in a lot of people’s eyes. And in all honesty, I’m not. I’m a FORMER SHOOT Project official who asked for his release due to dire circumstances, but was offered a desk job instead as one of Jason Johnson’s trusted advisors.

He pauses.

Tony Lorenzo: You guys DO remember JASON Johnson, right? (Looking around at everyone) He’s our President and CEO of this organization? (Showing little emotion, due to being concerned with getting the words out) He’s our boss. The man who signs your checks?

He raises an eyebrow, since it would seem many people have forgotten about Jason.

Tony Lorenzo: Now here’s the… skinny, gentlemen. Jason’s been overseeing a few major projects of his, but keep in mind that he has never relinquished control to ANYONE. (Now looking mostly at Real Deal and Jonny) Some people may have TAKEN control, but no one on this roster has EVER at ANY POINT IN TIME been legally obliged to compromise with any of their demands.

He shrugs and looks around at the all the fans in attendance.

Tony Lorenzo: Love him or hate him, Jason Johnson has always been consistent. And when he isn’t around… he doesn’t leave the company to his brother. He doesn’t leave control to the World Heavyweight Champion. When Jason Johnson isn’t in attendance… this company… this organization…

He pauses and looks around, feeling a little more comfortable.

Tony Lorenzo: Belongs to… It belongs to the company. Everyone is only in charge of themselves.

Lorenzo nods and the fans actually offer up a pop.

Tony Lorenzo: And so I’m out here with two messages from Jason. The first being very, very simple.

He clears his throat and pulls out a sheet of paper from the pocket of his suit.

Tony Lorenzo: (Looking down and reading off the paper) “Chill the fuck out.”

He looks back up.

Tony Lorenzo: “EVERYONE.”

“If you want control. Get it. Take it, but no one is OWED A DAMN THING. Fight for what you want, gentlemen and ladies. Because yes.

This IS war.”

The very bizarre announcement has everyone stunned. From all camps.

They all watch on.

Tony Lorenzo: And it’s a WAR that will undoubtedly wage on. Because, frankly, it’s ratings. It’s gritty. It’s exciting. And if you don’t like it, as Jason has gone over with me, that’s too bad. Jason owns your contracts. He owns a lot of our careers. (Shrugging) He wants to see how this ends and I can’t blame him. There are literally YEARS of pent up frustration amongst all of you. Let it out.

He pauses again.

Tony Lorenzo: (Slipping the paper back in his suit) Which brings me to the second announcement. We’ve had a great run the last few months being back home, but like all good things, this must come to an end. Our exclusive contract with the Thomas and Mack Center runs out in two weeks. And we will not be renewing.

The fans in attendance begin to BOO, which Lorenzo seems to have expected.

Tony Lorenzo: (Moving through with it) Next week will host a special farewell edition of Revolution. And yes. I said Revolution. We return to our normal Sunday show time with our FLAGSHIP program. We will have FOUR competitive bouts as we thank all of you for the support you’ve given us over the last year now. The event will once again be in the hands of our creative staff, who will be booking the best show possible for you.

This actually gets a cheer from the crowd, and the surreal continues.

Tony Lorenzo: From there, the organization will take a week off and then embark on a NATIONAL TOUR which will run through the new year ending at our annual REDEMPTION PAY-PER-VIEW when we return to LAS VEGAS!

In our brand new home.

A project, Jason likes to call…

The SHOOT Epicenter.

No one knows how to respond.

Lorenzo gives a quick and humble nod.

Tony Lorenzo: That’s all of it. Thank you guys.

There’s no music or monster pop. There’s no screaming commentators.

Everyone is still.

King, Jester, Ainsley, Nightmare, Evers… they watch the opposition who remain outside of the ring.

Real Deal, Osbourne, Nova, Sinnocence, Calahan…



Who may need a copy of the show.

And what about the rest of the organization? What could they be thinking?

It’s definitely calm.

Dark. Grey. Unknown.

The calm before the storm.