Revolution: 049 – 11/16/08

Jester Smiles, standing in the back, the gorilla position, wearing a green and purple tie dye shirt that reads, in big gold letters, "JESTER SMILES: WORLD CHAMPION". The belt rests on his shoulder, and he beams happily as he waits for the show to open. As the fans cheer loudly a hand claps Jester’s shoulder from behind.

Cade Sydal: Hey there…Champ.

 Cade Sydal comes clearly into the shot, a grin on his face as the Laws of Survival Championship rests over his own shoulder. Jester turns, smiling even brighter.

Jester Smiles: Oh, hey there…Champ.

Jester reaches his hand out, shakes Cade’s hand, and then pulls him in for a quick embrace.

Jester Smiles: Guys like us, man, we gotta do it up big, right?

Cade Sydal: Exactly. I can see you’re getting ready to go out and shout out to the public, so I’m gonna leave you to your business. Got some of my own I need to run around and take care of anyway. I just wanted to pop on by and congratulate you, man.

Jester Smiles: Hell yeah, man, you do what you gotta do. I mean, you’re sorta up against one of the Sons, but still…be Cade Sydal man. Kick some ass, and make them love your title.

Jester points out, towards where the fans would be, which elicits a pop.

Jester Smiles: And congrats to you my friend.

Cade grins and slaps Jester on the shoulder one final time.

Cade Sydal: Give ’em hell.

“Pressure” by Skindred hits over the PA, and the fans in the Cricket Arena of Charlotte, North Carolina ERUPT! The camera shows various signs throughout the building advertising Jester Smiles and the Sons of Liberty, including one sign that reads “Jester Smiles: Hope Is Real” and one sign that says “Give Us the Sons of Liberty, or Give Us Death”. Jester emerges from the back, the biggest smile in the world on his face. The SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship is wrapped around his waist. He pats it proudly before taking it off and holding it high, which is met with an eruption of green and purple pyros! Jester walks over to the guard rails and leaps over them, making his way to the ring through the crowd. As Jester makes his way to the ring, the camera focuses in on the announce table. A name plate appears under all three announcers names with “Revolution 49” written above the names.

Other Guy: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SHOOT Project 49 here at the Cricket Arena in a big town for many in this federation, Charlotte, North Carolina! I’m the Other Guy here, and let me tell you, a hell of a way to kick off a show that includes a Revolution Title defense and an epic rematch between Cade Sydal and Donovan King! And when Jester Smiles jumps on the scene, you know the party is about to get started!

Jeff Hansen: Oh great, he’s coming out here to gloat about his win over Jonny Johnson.  You know, he made that man retire, after giving Jonny leukemia. Some hero.

Eryk Masters: I know I’m supposed to be the middle ground person here, but, seriously? How did Jester give Jonny Johnson leukemia?

Jeff Hansen: That head butt man! That did it somehow!

Other Guy: Hansen, you can’t fucking be serious.

The camera shifts to the ring, where Jester Smiles stands, holding a microphone, the SHOOT Project World Championship slung over his shoulder, shining almost as bright as Jester’s smile. Jester’s music has died down, but the crowd has not!

Jeff Hansen: We get it, everyone loves this guy. Shut up.

Other Guy: Let the fans enjoy it, Jeff. They’ve been listening to your boy for long enough now.

Finally, after the crowd dies down, Jester holds the microphone up to his lips.

Jester Smiles: I simply….

Jester laughs.

Jester Smiles: I simply cannot believe I am here, in Charlotte, North Carolina, practically the second home of the SHOOT Project-

Jester has to stop because of the cheers this has created.

Jester Smiles: I’m here, in Charlotte, North Carolina, as the NEW SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion!

BIG pop! Jester seems to have tears in his eyes as he listens to the crowd.

Jester Smiles: It’s been a rollercoaster of a year for me. I’ve had my ups and downs in this company, my parents passed away, I won the 2008 Master of the Mat, but now, I stand here, after all the hardships I faced, both personally and professionally, and after all the obstacles and beatings I had to take from the FORMER SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion, I stand here to tell you that Hope is NOT an Illusion.

Hope is REAL!

Another big pop! A few fans are on their feet.

Jester Smiles: Hope may not seem real sometimes. When things get rough, during our darkest times, we may believe hope is an illusion, and sometimes, it is. Sometimes, the hope you think you have is not hope at all, but just another servant of the darkness, beating you down that much more. But we learned something at WAR. In darkness, when we think there is no light, and when things seem the MOST hopeless, that is when we MUST believe in hope. That is when we MUST reach out and grab onto something, believe in something, and we have to FIGHT for it. You guys reached out and believed in me. I reached out and believed in you. The Sons of Liberty reached out and we all believed in each other.

And by the end of the night, The DEFILER and his minions were soundly DEFEATED!

GIGANTIC pop! More fans are on their feet!

Jester Smiles: We fought for a better future, a better SHOOT Project, but just because one battle has been fought and won, doesn’t mean we are done yet. No no, now the real fight begins. Now, I stand here, telling you that hope is real, but we can’t stop now. I can’t stop now. I have to take this…

Jester holds the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship HIGH in the air.

Jester Smiles: I have to take this title and defend against anyone and everyone. I have to prove that, not only was I worthy to become YOUR champion, but that I am worthy to CONTINUE to be your champion. The Sons of Liberty have done their work. We are changing the landscape of what SHOOT Project is, and we WILL cultivate a better tomorrow for fans and workers alike. But the fight is not over. Maybe Jonny Johnson will retire, but that doesn’t change anything. Tonight, the Sons of Liberty announce a challenger, and then, I will have to stand in the ring with whoever they decide I must face. Whether it be Corazon, Donovan King, Ainsley Lake, Nightmare, Dan Stein, Danny Evers, Cade Sydal, or Christopher Davis, the number one contender will be announced, and I will be facing them for this title. My fight isn’t over.

And I couldn’t be happier. Because I will take on ANYONE who thinks they deserve this title! I will take on ANYONE who feels that I don’t deserve to be where I am! If you think you can do better, step up and prove it. This isn’t the era of sitting back, waiting to defend once a month, and politicking every show. No, this era that I am ushering in, it’s the Show Me era. This is the era where you don’t just SAY you deserve something.

You fucking PROVE you deserve it. So step forward. Whether you love me or you hate me, it doesn’t matter. You want THIS belt, this belt that I fought so hard for and love so much.

Then come and take it.

Cuz I’ll be happy to knock you flat for trying. This is the new era of SHOOT!

And I’m ecstatic to be fighting in it with all of you wonderful fans. Thank you SO much!

Jester lowers the mic, which signals an even BIGGER pop! Almost the entire, sold out Cricket Arena is on their feet. From screams and applause comes a clear “JES-TER! JES-TER!” chant from about half the audience, while the other half chants “SHOOT PRO-JECT! SHOOT PRO-JECT!” Jester hands the microphone back to Samantha Coil, wraps the title back around his waist, and again leaps over the barricade and makes his way to the back through the crowd.

Jeff Hansen: He’s so arrogant.

Eryk Masters: Jester making a heart felt victory speech, saying that he is bringing in an era of proving your worth.

Other Guy: I think that kid’s going to be a solid champion. Good luck Jester. You be the hero!

The anticipation builds right throughout the Cricket Arena, the fans getting psyched for the first match of a huge show. The camera hovers on the entrance ramp and then we hear Samantha Coil’s voice:

Samantha Coil: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first…

The wolf whistles for the ring announcer are almost immediately drowned out as the opening riffs of "Red Tape" by Agent Provocateur blast out over the P.A, and Lockup comes bounding out onto the stage wearing black cargo pants – but more importantly, a Carolina Panthers jersey! The cheers kick into overdrive when the crowd sees this on the screen! Lockup is smiling and high-fiving fans as he proceeds down the walkway, almost bouncing with eagerness to get into his first match.

Samantha Coil: Coming from Honolulu, Hawaii, he weighs in tonight at 240 pounds. He is the Tapout Artist… LOCKUP!!!

Eryk Masters: A new addition to SHOOT Project’s roster here, the ex-SWAT cop Lockup about to have his debut match, and by the look of things he can’t wait!

Other Guy: This guy’s got a whole lotta potential. They make ’em tough in Special Units –

Jeff Hansen: How tough can he be? He’s from Hawaii, is he gonna Hula Knox into submission?

Other Guy: He’s a submission and striking artist, Jeff, and he’s been shot in the line of duty. He’s tough, okay? I bet he’d make you squeal like a pig.

Lockup casually slides under the bottom rope, taking a few seconds to stand in the centre of the ring and soak up the cheers. He takes the Jersey off and holds it up to more cheers, then hands to it a ring official before climbing to the turnbuckle and waving the Shaka at the audience with both hands.

Jeff Hansen: Isn’t that the Vulcan greeting from "Star Trek" ?

Eryk Masters: You’ve never been surfing, have you, Hansen?

Jeff Hansen: I think the more important question is, why are we wasting time with this match when Thomas Manchester Black is waiting to destroy Azazel?

Other Guy: Unbelievable.

The music fades out, shortly followed by the start of "High Wire Escape Artist" by BoySetsFire as blue and white strobes flash across the arena.

Bleeeeed out allllll empathyyyy…

Samantha Coil: His opponent… hailing from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and weighing in tonight at 220 pounds… CALEB KNOX!!!

As the guitars kick in, Caleb Knox pumps his fists in the air to the fans as he jumps in place for a moment before walking to the ring. Knox tags hands with a few fans at ringside before sprinting to the ring steps and jumping on the top one. He walks along the apron, pointing to the crowd as he climbs the top rope and does a standing backflip in the ring off the top rope. Once he lands, Knox locks eyes with Lockup as he backs up to his corner.

Eryk Masters: Despite what the won-loss record says, this kid is continuing to impress me more and more each week with his iron will and determination.

Jeff Hansen: This kid needs to be drug out in the street and put out of his misery. WAAAH! My childhood sucked! Cry cry cry!

Other Guy: You still have to admire the fact that this kid has just kept trying and trying each week no matter how bad he gets his ass kicked.

Jeff Hansen: There’s a fine line between determination and being a sucker for punishment!

Referee Chris Jenkins calls for the bell and the first match of Revolution 49 is underway! The two men briefly shake hands, then break up only to go straight into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Both men jostling for position, Knox manages to bring Lockup into a side headlock, but Lockup quickly grabs his forearm with both hands and twists Knox around into a standing wristlock! Lockup brings it up into a hammerlock but Knox reverses with a standing switch, and now he’s in control with a hammerlock right behind Lockup! The Tapout Artist now looking for some leverage, trying to grab Knox by the head, no dice, Knox pulls back… and Lockup goes low and hooks Knox’s leg with his free arm! Lockup drops his weight back into Caleb and both men are on the mat! Lockup goes straight for Knox’s ankle but Knox breaks it up before any damage is done. Knox scoots back a bit and gets back to his feet. Lockup does the same, shaking out the arm Knox had wrenched, and they eyeball each other warily.

Eryk Masters: Both wrestlers cautious in the early minutes, and a surprising counter from Lockup there, taking some pain in that shoulder in order to try for a leglock of some kind.

Other Guy: Not sure if that was smart against a more experienced opponent, but it sure was ballsy.

Another collar-and-elbow, and this time Lockup gets Knox down into a side headlock, but Knox backs into the ropes and sends Lockup across the ring! Lockup bounces off the opposite ropes, Knox with a clothesline but Lockup ducks under! Lockup off the ropes again and charging for Knox – but Knox grabs his neck and drives Lockup’s face down onto his knee with a vicious facebuster! Lockup is down! Knox gives Lockup a chance to get back to his feet, calculating his next move…

Other Guy: Knox just gave a nod to Lockup, the newcomer’s earned some respect already.

Jeff Hansen: He’ll need more than that when he’s up against –

Eryk Masters: And Lockup returns the gesture in turn, clearly appreciating Knox’s ring savvy, and we hear the crowd clapping at this show of respect between our two competitors here.

Jeff Hansen: Didn’t your mama ever tell you it’s rude to interrupt people, Masters?

Other Guy: BOOM! Lockup just ate a clothesline with authority while you ladies were bickerin’.

Lockup quick to get back to his knees, but Knox quicker with a bounce off the ropes and a snap enzuigiri to the still-kneeling Lockup!

Eryk Masters: That’s what Caleb calls the Pouncing Lobo, and he’s already looking for a cover!

ONE!

T – Kickout!

Lockup back up to his feet, but a little rattled by that move. Knox grabs the arm and pulls Lockup in for a short-arm clothesline – but Lockup ducks and catches Knox around the neck with a standing katahajime! Knox is in the middle of the ring and has nowhere to go! Chris Jenkins runs over to check if Knox wants to submit… no dice. Lockup now swinging Knox around, obviously trying to get this match onto the mat, but Caleb keeps his vertical base and swings an elbow into Lockup’s gut!

Other Guy: Lockup’s still not letting up on that sleeper. He’s certainly a tenacious bastard.

Caleb again to Lockup’s abdomen, but less power behind it now as Lockup’s hold is taking effect. Lockup tries again to bring Caleb down, hooking the ankle this time… and Lockup has Knox on the mat and has the bodyscissors locked in!

Eryk Masters: Textbook Judo katahajime there, but Lockup dropped Knox within reach of the ropes and Caleb has grabbed the bottom rope!

Chris Jenkins: BREAK! ROPE BREAK!

Lockup releases the hold right away and rolls away, and this time it’s Knox who’s slow to get back to his feet. Lockup lets him get back up, but before Knox can recover fully Lockup snaps off a kick to Knox’s leg! And another! Elbow strike to the head! Caleb’s reeling as Lockup presses his advantage with a forearm shot to the head, but now Knox fires back with a forearm of his own! Lockup forearm! Knox! Lockup! Knox! Lockup! Kno – Lockup catches Knox’s arm, goes under and around Knox with his own arm, and drops Knox on the back of his head! NEGATIVE MOMENTUM!

Jeff Hansen: Knox just got his bell rung but good! Reckon he’ll get back up from this?

Eryk Masters: Lockup covers… KICKOUT at one!

Other Guy: And he looks surprised he couldn’t keep Knox down for longer.

Lockup slides over and grabs Knox by the left leg. He grapevines it, then locks in a heel hook! Knox yells out as Lockup twists the ankle, trying to power out of the hold, but Lockup wraps both his legs around Caleb’s knee! Knox can’t get enough leverage to wrench his leg out!

Eryk Masters: This is exactly where Knox did not want to be! Down on the mat, where a submission expert can execute his game plan! Knox is going for the ropes, but he’s too far away!

Jeff Hansen: Tap, bitch, and let’s get to the good matches!

Other Guy: Shut the hell up, Jeff, and call the damn match.

Knox up on his hands, trying to back up to the ropes, can’t move Lockup… KICK TO THE HEAD! ANOTHER! Knox just kicked Lockup with his free leg and rattled the ex-cop just hard enough to loosen the ankle-lock, and Knox is out! Knox is leaning against the ropes, favoring that ankle, and Lockup is still groggy from Knox’s boot. Knox now limping over to Lockup, pulls him up to a front facelock – SNAP SUPLEX! He still has the front facelock on as he rolls over to his feet again – ANOTHER SNAP SUPLEX! Again he pulls Lockup back into position, and lifts him up – FRONT SUPLEX! Knox turns him over and covers.

ONE!

TWO!

TH … kickout!

Jeff Hansen: Not smart, trying a suplex combo on an injured leg. See how Knox is limping even worse now?

Eryk Masters: That was less than half a second from a three-count, I think it was a calculated gamble.

Lockup clutches his head as he rises slowly, but Knox is on him again! Irish whip – Lockup reverses, and Knox hits the turnbuckle hard! Lockup comes in with a kneelift but Knox drops to the mat and Lockup hits the turnbuckle! Lockup now also favoring a leg slightly as Knox hooks him with a half-nelson, jumps for a facebuster… but Lockup turns into the arm and it’s an armbar takedown! Lockup follows up with a single-leg Boston Crab!

Other Guy: I thought we were gonna see a Fujiwara armbar there.

Eryk Masters: Lockup clearly has a game plan here, keep Knox from hitting those quick flying moves by going for the legs.

Knox again caught by Lockup, once again straining to reach the ropes! He yells again, as much from anger as pain, as he pushes himself closer to the edge of the ring… Lockup slowly getting dragged into the ropes… and he releases the hold as soon as Knox gets a hand to the ropes. Knox once again using the ropes to pick himself up.

Lockup charges over and grabs Knox by the arm, whips him to the ropes – and scoops him up on the way back for a high-velocity tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Once more up, and Lockup pulls Caleb’s arm through between his legs.

Eryk Masters: Lockup looking for a pumphandle suplex – but Knox drags his arm back through and uses his hips for a very unorthodox armdrag variation!

Other Guy: Great quick thinking from Knox there.

Knox rolls to the apron watches carefully as Lockup gets back up. Knox waits until Lockup is on his feet, then leaps to the top rope – and catches Lockup with a springboard tornado DDT! He goes for the lateral press…

ONE!

TWO!!

KICKOUT!

Jeff Hansen: Knox thought he had it there, he’s shaking his head in disbelief. Try harder, bench-warmer.

Knox drags Lockup back to his feet, puts his arm around Lockup’s shoulders – Lockup spins around and swings his arm around Knox’s chest!

Lockup: HOOOOOOOOOOO BRADDAAAAAAAAA!!!

Lockup drops Knox with a brutal STO, then locks in the Anaconda Vice!

Other Guy: That’s the Prosecution Op! Lockup has it cinched in, but Knox refusing to submit!

Eryk Masters: Knox is almost screaming as Lockup wrenches that arm, and he’s frantically trying to reach the ropes with his feet!

Jeff Hansen: No such luck! HE TAPPED! CALEB TAPPED OUT OF LOCKUP’S FINISHER!!!

Eryk Masters: Chris Jenkins has called for the bell!

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission at fourteen minutes, twenty seconds…. LOCKUP!!!!!

Eryk Masters: A promising start for the rookie, picking up a win in his debut match!

Lockup basks in the cheers of the crowd, before pointing to Knox and clapping, encouraging the crowd to give it up for his opponent. He calls for a mic.

Lockup: I just want to thank everyone here in Charlotte, the SHOOT Project, and everyone watching at home. You people make it all worthwhile!

Lockup leaves triumphant, waving the Shaka and slapping hands as he goes.

Jeff Hansen: Is he serious? Gag me with a spoon.

The scene opens to SHOOT’s version of the Odd Couple TMB and Nova Jackson. Nova is wearing Black tights, pink mini-skirt, black and pink wrestling boots, and a black t-shirt with DEFILER written on it in hot pink. ‘Cause, you know, Nova loves her Jonny. As per usual, perfect makeup and hair. TMB is rocking a classic Tarheels jogging suit with black shades. As usual it seems like Nova is floating around on a cloud of Jonny love while TMB can only watch in amusement.

TMB:  Looking nice Nova. You ready to enjoy some heart pounding action?

Nova:  But… We’re just friends and we’re on TV. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe some other time, after a few drinks, and if we’re both really lonely. But, like, not right now.

Nova nods her head knowingly, smiling up at Black. She’s proud of herself, even though she actually completely screwed up what he was talking about.TMB goes to say something but is completely caught off guard with what Nova said. TMB sighs.

TMB:  Yeah, great idea…you know you are a very smart person. Anyway, What about the great action that is going to be on the show tonight. Especially when you trainer gets into the ring with the sword of justice aka the hammer of light!!!

Nova:  I thought his name was Azazel? But it’ll be awesome! You’re both big, but he’s a little… umm, doughy. You know, kinda like fat-big in some places. So you’ll be, like, awesome and whoop his butt!

If Nova had pom-poms, she’d be flailing them around like a cheerleader with a seizure. Instead, she’s just smiling a lot and looking proud.

TMB:  Why thank you. Now Nova…do you know where we are?

Nova nods enthusiastically, her head bobbing at rapid speed.

Nova:  We’re in Charlotte, you told me that just before the cameras turned on and told me to make sure I remembered!

TMB:  You remember the way I told you to say it?

Nova:  Oh! Right! Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarloooooooooooooooooooootte Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooorth Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaroliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Nova beams.

Nova:  I could TOTALLY do Samantha Coil’s job!

TMB:  Don’t forget the whoooo.

Nova:  WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

TMB smiles it was almost too cute to be taken serious.

TMB:  But on to a serious matter…my match tonight. And in honor of me being in my hometown tonight. I think I should give things a little bit of flair. What do you think?

Nova:  At LEAST fifteen pieces of flair! But how are you gonna do that?

Nova looks confused, which is an even more natural look for her than a smile.

TMB is still amazed how she made it this far in the business. But he came prepared this time and reaches into his duffle bag and pulls out a vest that he brought, that he had decorated with 15 Jonny Johnson buttons.

TMB:  Is this enough flair for you?

Nova concentrates for a moment, counting the buttons. She shakes her head and starts over, finally coming to her conclusion with two thumbs up in Black’s direction.

Nova:  That’s fifteen! But, do you really want to do that bare minimum?

Nova reaches under her skirt and pulls out yet another Jonny Johnson button, and pins it to the vest.

Nova:  Now you’re going above and beyond!

TMB:  You are a trooper, my friend. Now where was I. Oh yes!! Tonight is the night of truth. Everything gets reveled on the grand stage that is Charlotte. You see you get to witness if Jonny’s friends can re-group after the big loss. You get to see if Nova can remain a pretty face. And you get to see all the dings and dirt that some have tried to hide from. Tonight I show Azazel the truth about sin and those who choose to act as if they are void of it. Welcome to your moment of clarity…I am your host and NC’s own THOMAS…WHOOOOOOO, MANCHESTER BLACK.

TMB turns to Nova.

TMB:  Whatcha think?

Nova:  Needs more WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Nova kneels down and raises her fists as she hollers her "WHOO!" standing up promptly when she’s finished with her long holler.

Nova:  I think we’re good now!

TMB:  Nova dear…are you sure you were never dropped as a baby?

Nova puts her hands on her head and rubs it, trying to find any trouble.

Nova:  Why? Is my head flat?

TMB just shakes his hand again.

TMB:  Nope, its perfect. And I know for a fact that Jonny…he likes perfect head.

Nova looks like she has just received a puppy as she jumps up and down. The scene fades as TMB calms her down and they continue down the hallway.

Dutch Harris: I am standing by with a man who has requested this time. Who are you again?

Jack Heart: I’m Jack Heart.

Dutch Harris: You must be new, welcome to SHOOT Project!

Jack Heart: Actu…never mind. I requested this time to ask whoever is in charge around here to give me a match.

Dutch Harris: A match seems a bit vague.

Jack Heart: But not any match I want a match that will really test my ability in the ring.

Dutch Harris: Who are you to demand such a match?

Jack Heart: Oh no, this isn’t a demand. Just a simple request, to show SHOOT Project what I can do and who I really am. I’ve done some bad things so far in my career, setting my brother on fire, choking him with a soccer shirt but now is the time to set that all behind me. All I need is just one chance, one opportunity to show the wrestling world that I am more than that nasty little Londoner who had a problem with his big brother. If I have this opportunity I will never let the fans or this company down again with letting my family life get in the way of my wrestling. Because that’s what I really want to do wrestle for this company in front of these fans at the very peak of my ability. That’s all I got to say.

Jack walks away leaving Harris to wrap things up.

Dutch Harris: There we have it folks. Newcomer Jake Cart, has requested for a testing debut will he get it? Who knows…who cares?

Narrowing his eyes almost to nothing, Osbourne winces as he arcs his neck to the right and then to left left, massaging it deeply with his left hand as he holds the gleaming golden Iron Fist Championship in his right hand and a massive stack of printed paper under his arm.

None-too-familiar with the layout of the Cricket Arena, he looks both ways at an intersection before noticing the laminated sign pointing toward the locker-room area. Walking right by a door labelled with his own name, he stops outside the one labelled for Ron Barker.

Taking a deep breath, he brushed out the invisible creases in his short-sleeved black dress shirt and looks down to check that the silver buckles on his dress shoes are appropriately shined before he gently raps his knuckles on the door, scanning the corridor to his left and to his right through those infamous blue-tinted sunglasses.

Within moments, Ron Barker himself opens the door. He smiles as he looks at Osbourne Kilminster before leaning on a black cane, a result of his injuries at Under Siege, and walking to a plush leather chair they have set up for him.

Ron Barker: Osbourne. What can I do for you, man? How’ve you been holding up?

Entering the room, Osbourne closes the door behind him, taking in a deep breath.

Osbourne Kilminster: Still sore, man. My neck’s been giving me trouble on and off all week. How about you? Still completely dependant on the cane or are you getting better?

Ron smiles.

Ron Barker: It’s better. Just some overwhelming tightness in my back. Leg’s still a bit numb… but I highly doubt you’re here to trade war wound stories with me. What’s on your mind?

Kilminster nods, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Osbourne Kilminster: I need a favour. It seems you’re not allowed to take some time off to heal up around here and the management is coming down on me like a ton of bricks. I’ve got paperwork coming out of my ears… and I was wondering if you could take a look at it? Stuff that’d take me a month to get through would probably only take you ten minutes…

Ron Barker smiles as he glances at the stack of papers Osbourne has just placed in front of him and then back to Osbourne.

Ron Barker: Fallout from WAR, huh? Did that unchecked aggression get you into some trouble?

Osbourne Kilminster: No, I dunno what it’s all about for sure, but I reckon it’s King and his cronies trying to stir up some trouble because mine is the only title they haven’t managed to grab yet.

Ron Barker: Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about them. I’ve got my own plan for them tonight.

Ron Barker smiles.

Ron Barker: The bottom line, Oz… you’ve gotten yourself into some deep shit no matter what you’ve done. This paperwork is going to be pretty intense.

The Iron Fist Champion sighs and leans back against the wall, raising his eyebrows and shaking hsi head.

Osbourne Kilminster: I know, man. This isn’t my kind of thing, either. This isn’t something I can fights with my fists, it’s some silly legal rubbish and it’s getting on top of me. Any chance you can give me a hand with it?

Flipping through the pages, Barker stops as he looks up at Osbourne. A smile begins to form.

Ron Barker: I’m going to level with you, Oz. My time is pretty monopolized. I’ve got some things being worked out that require my complete focus and both you and I know how dangerous it is to lose that focus.

Barker pauses. Osbourne begins to look slightly agitated.

Ron Barker: But I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll look through this and see what I can do. You keep that mouth of yours out of trouble in the meantime.

Smirking slightly, Osbourne bounces back off the wall.

Osbourne Kilminster: You know me, Ron. I’ll see what I can do.

Leaving Barker with the paperwork, Osbourne reaches for the door, opening it and hafway stepping out before looking back.

Osbourne Kilminster: I owe you one.

Ron Barker grins.

Ron Barker: You do, Oz. You certainly do.

Kilminster frowns at Ron’s oddly insistent tone, smiling awkwardly before closing the door behind him.

We cut to The Willenium sitting in a small, folding chair somewhere in the lockeroom.  He has his right leg laid across his lap, and his elbow resting on his leg.  His chin is being supported by his hand.  He shoots the camera a very irritated look, and stroked his moustache.

Willenium:  Here’s the thing guys.  I did everything I could do to get on this show.  I even accepted the pitiful challenge of some newbie.  I did all of it for you.  The people, the company, and most of all…America.  That wasn’t good enough for you was it?  That wasn’t good enough for SHOOT was it?

Trey brushes the hair from his face and adjusts himself in his chair.  He reaches in his pants pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.  He lights one up.

Willenium:  The company has passed you by, Trey.  Things aren’t the way they were when you were last here.  The entire landscape of professional wrestling has changed.  You are but a relic, Trey. 

Trey stomps his foot on the ground, and stares intently at the camera.

Willenium:  You fickle people.  Don’t you understand?  I am the only one left.  Eddie may have found himself to be irrelevant.  Hell, most of the roster from my last real shot at this may be gone.  But at the end of the day, I’m still here.  I told you I would be here.  I told you all last week that there would not be another Revolution without my bright shining face.

Trey gives a large smirk.  He leans forward in his chair and motions his finger in a come hither motion.

Willenium:  Wanna know a secret?  Since I’ve had such an issue getting on this show the way a wrestler would, I’ve had to get on the way a lowly fan would.   That’s right,  I’ve had to purchase my own ticket.

The arena spotlight focuses on the lower right entrance.  From an entrance tunnel, we can see The Willenium coming to ringside.  Over his shoulder, he has a large bundle of T-shirts.  He high-fives fans the whole way to his seat.  He tosses shirts to fans as he walks along.  Tossing a few higher than they can reach, there are a few scuffles for the free merchandise.  He makes his way to his seat, which is right behind the announcers booth.  The video on screen pauses with Trey laughing, snuffing out his cigarette.

As Trey gets to his seat, He tosses a T-shirt on the head of each announcer.  He reaches into his pocket, grabs his ticket, and a pen.  After signing the ticket, he hands it to the fan sitting next to him.

Eryk Masters:  Can you image a more depressing play for attention?

Other Guy:  I don’t know.  I could probably think of a couple, but not from the top of my head. 

Eryk Masters:  Does he have any idea the size of today’s SHOOT roster?  Just because he doesn’t get booked, he throws a tantrum, and interrupts this show?

Jeff Hansen:  Are you Kidding me?  I love this guy!  He only has SHOOT’s prosperity in mind.  He doesn’t get booked, so he supports SHOOT by buying a ticket and showing his love of the sport.

The Willenium leans in towards Hansen’s mic.

Willenium:  You know, I can hear everything you guys are saying.  I told you all, I would be here every week until I got my shot at showing this company what I can do.  Now put on your damned T-Shirts.

The shirts are folded neatly on the desk.  The Willenium crosses his arms together in frustration.

Eryk Masters:  Ok, Willenium is here…

Other Guy:  I hate to admit it.  The Willenium is here…And I still kinda like it.

Willenium:  I know you do O.G. I know you do…

Jeff Hansen:  It’s here and I Like It!  Yeah!

Eryk Masters:  Can we just get back to the show now?  Please?

The Willenium pauses, obviously thinking.  He almost grabs the headset from Hansen’s head.

Willenium:  You know, I think I’ve made my point.  You can expect this every week until they realize that I am the answer to our ratings crisis and put me on the damned show.  You may proceed my fine announce team.  Proceed.

The Screen, still paused on an image of the Willenium fades to black.  At ringside, Trey stops a popcorn vendor, and kicks his feet up on the back of the Eryk Master’s Chair, ready for the next exciting match.

The short piano intro that begins Nightwish’s “Nemo” pumps into the arena, soon to be replaced by a driving guitar, and the entranceway and aisle starts to fill with a white smoke as the house lights cut. Two silhouettes appear at the entranceway, and as a spotlight hits the pair, both Azazel and Leviathan swing their heads up to face forward, whipping their hair behind them. White pupilless eyes stare toward the ring, and they begin a methodical walk toward the ringside area.

Samantha Coil: This contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, weighing in at 410 lbs, hailing from Parts Unknown, accompanied by Leviathan, AZAZEL!

Eryk Masters: Azazel continuing his one-man purge of the SHOOT ranks… it seems like his loss to Kenji Yamada at Revolution 46 hasn’t slowed him down too much.

Other Guy: He said it himself, it didn’t stop him, just slowed him down a little… we’ll see if he can bounce back against TMB this week.

Jeff Hansen: That’s totally likely to happen, for reals. Or, y’know, TMB will finally put this jackass in his place and get him off TV.

Other Guy: Lemme tell him you said that.

Jeff Hansen: Fuck no, don’t you move!

As they reach ringside, Leviathan walks around the ring as Azazel climbs onto the apron, stepping over the top rope. He drops to his knees mid-ring, his hands together in a prayer pose, before standing back up as the house lights come up again and the smoke dissipates.

“Line Em Up” by Freeway with Chris Young starts up over the PA system, drawing a loud amount of boos for the team member of Jonny’s Friends.

Samantha Coil: And introducing his opponent, from here in Charlotte, North Carolina by way of Hartford Connecticut… Weighing in tonight at 265 pounds. This is THOMAS MANCHESTER BLACK!!!

TMB comes out from behind the curtains wearing Black and White MMA shorts and boots. He tops that off by wearing a North Carolina Tar Heels Hoodie & his forearms and fists taped up. Black hardly looks out from the hoodie as he walks toward the ring. He stops at points at a group of fans, who are going to support the hometown wrestler, rather he is good or bad. The group holds up a sign stating Thomas’s old catchphrase, "Snap, Crackle & Pop: The TMB World Tour".

TMB: (Off Mic) That’s respect, right there.

Jeff Hansen: That’s right, respect. If only the announce team knew what that meant.

Other Guy: Oh, I give TMB a lot of respect, he’s done a lot in this business. I just think the cat’s an asshole.

He taps the sign and continues to make his way down the rampway, soaking up the boos that are tossed his way. TMB makes his way up the steel steps and steps over the top rope and doesn’t even look at the ref as he makes his way to the far right corner. He smirks at the crowd as they hurl insults at him and he just brushes them off. He turns around and faces referee Dennis Heflin, who proceeds to give him the mandatory pat down. Once the ref is finished, TMB takes off his hoodie and tosses it to a ring hand, waiting for the match to start.

Heflin calls for the bell, and Black starts to circle Azazel, who simply stands, watching him, pivoting to keep Black in front of him. Black comes in, locking up, and Azazel shoves him to the mat! Black hops back up, looking surprised, but charges in to lock up again, once more being pushed to the mat! Black looks more frustrated than surprised now, and he locks up one more time, this time instantly dropping into a jawbreaker, sending Azazel reeling backward! TMB runs in, driving a kick to Azazel’s ribs, then another, and one more– caught! Azazel locks TMB’s leg under his arm, and pulls him into a nasty clothesline! TMB hits the mat hard, and Azazel wastes no time in putting a foot onto his chest, and TMB howls as Azazel steps over him!

Eryk Masters: Say what you will about Azazel, but that’s over 400 lbs focused right on the chest of TMB!

Jeff Hansen: That’s definitely gotta hurt.

Other Guy: That’s all you got to say, Jeff? No snappy comeback?

Jeff Hansen: I may not think the dude’s worthy of airtime, OG, but he’s still 400 lbs and stepping on a man. That’s hard to blow off.

TMB rolls onto his chest, and Azazel pulls him up by his head– arm drag by Black! Azazel gets toppled, and TMB immediately starts laying kicks into Azazel’s midsection! Azazel’s getting to his knees, but TMB comes off the ropes and drops him back with a dropkick to Azazel’s ribs! He rolls over, next to the ropes, using them to pull himself up, but Black drags him to the corner, pushing him against the turnbuckles, and driving knee after knee into Azazel’s abdomen! Azazel finally grabs TMB’s head, reversing the position and tossing Black HARD into the corner! Azazel drives a 410lb elbow into TMB’s head, and before he can respond, Azazel does it once more! Azazel steps away, and Black falls to a sitting position! Azazel picks up Black, pushing him back into the corner, and Azazel charges TMB with a spear– no! TMB dodged, and Azazel’s shoulder clangs against the ring post!

Eryk Masters: He nearly bent the post with that spear! Can you imagine what that would’ve done to TMB’s ribcage?!

Jeff Hansen: Thankfully, I don’t have to, and now this match is starting to head the right way.

TMB turns Azazel around, climbing to the second rope, and laying heavy forearms into Azazel’s head! The fans count to ten along with Black, and TMB hops down, going across the ring, and bolting at Azazel with a huge clothesline splash! TMB doesn’t give up, pulling Azazel out and down with an inverted Russian legsweep! Black makes the cover!

ONE!

TW– Kickout!

Azazel throws Black off of him, and gets to his feet. Black rolls over, back onto his feet as well, and charges Azazel with a clothesline! It connects, but doesn’t drop the big man, and TMB hits the ropes– big boot from Azazel! It looks like TMB was ready, though, as he bounces off the ropes and levels Azazel with the Chin Check! Azazel is taken off of his feet yet again!

Jeff Hansen: TMB took the brunt of that kick with his hands, and that’s how you know a true ring veteran when you see one. Azazel never had a chance.

Black rolls Azazel over, pulling the big man into a Fujiwara armbar! Azazel’s head perks up instantly, as TMB yanks on his arm! Azazel starts to push himself up– elbow to the head by TMB! Azazel drops down again, and TMB locks him in the hold once more! Dennis Heflin is checking on Azazel, but the monster gives no sign of giving up! Finally, Azazel starts to push himself off the mat, taking TMB with him! Black’s eyes go wide, and Azazel gets to his knees! TMB tries to move it to a regular armbar, but Azazel slams his other hand into Black’s head! Black drops to the mat, and now Azazel is on the offense! He tries to work out his left elbow and shoulder, pulling Black to his feet with his other arm, and up into the air with a sidewalk slam! TMB hits the mat hard, and Azazel is right there with a hand across his throat! Dennis Heflin is there to start a five-count, and Azazel breaks on the 4! Heflin starts to bitch at Azazel for his tactics, but Azazel stands to his full height, intimidating the much smaller referee! In the meantime, Leviathan pulls TMB’s head over the bottom rope, and pulls down, choking Black in a move the Charlotte crowd does not appreciate! Before Heflin can catch him, Leviathan shoots a European uppercut into TMB’s face, propelling him back into the ring!

Jeff Hansen: C’mon, Heflin! And these are the guys who want to “cleanse” SHOOT?

Other Guy: God forbid they use their opponent’s playbook.

Jeff Hansen: Oh please, TMB doesn’t cheat like that.

Other Guy: Yeah, he and his friends do it their own way.

Azazel pulls Black up, and hoists him high into the air with a guerrilla press! The Sword of Damocles could be– no! TMB kicks and fights, and slides down behind Azazel, planting him to the mat with a German suplex that took everything out of him! Azazel hits his head hard, and both men are down! Referee Heflin starts a ten count for both men! Azazel starts to stir first, pulling himself laboriously to the ropes, but he can’t get up! Black rolls over, hooking an arm over the bottom rope, but he too is unable to push himself to his feet! It’s he who manages to pull himself to his knees first, though, and TMB shakes the cobwebs out, diving into the back of Azazel’s knee with a chop block just as he’s getting to his feet! Azazel drops to his knees, and TMB pulls him into a clinch, throwing knees into his face, and driving elbows to the temple of the behemoth! But Azazel’s not out yet, and he gets back to his feet, pulling Black off of his and charging, sandwiching him into the turnbuckle!

Black screams out, collapsing in a heap near the corner, and Azazel deadlifts him, hoisting onto his shoulder in a Canadian gutbuster! TMB fights again, though, dropping down behind Azazel, and planting him with a reverse DDT! Black covers!

ONE!

TWO!

THR– kickout!

Black is on his feet, arguing with Heflin! The referee signals two, and Black is not happy! He pulls Azazel to his feet, and whips him to the ropes! Black ducks a huge Azazel clothesline, and Azazel comes back into a spinebuster from TMB! It’s obvious it took a lot out of him, but Black makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR– kickout once more!

Eryk Masters: And TMB just can’t keep Azazel down!

Black looks beside himself, as he gets back to his feet, pulling Azazel by the hair. He drags Azazel to his feet, and before Azazel can get his bearings, TMB drops him with a belly to belly suplex! Azazel crumples, and even Black looks amazed that he pulled it off! He stands up, grabbing Azazel’s leg, and wrapping him up! He looks like he’s having a little trouble, due to Azazel’s size, but he pulls Azazel’s arms up! Queen City Stomp! The crowd goes NUTS! Azazel is out! Black makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Samantha Coil: Your winner, at a time of 12 minutes and 25 seconds, THOMAS MANCHESTER BLACK!

Jeff Hansen: And despite all the adversity, all the people saying he couldn’t do it, Thomas Manchester Black prevails!

Other Guy: What people are you talking about?

Jeff Hansen: Mostly you and Masters. But he proved you wrong, and even with all the rule-breaking we saw in this match, it goes to show you that justice will always come out on top.

Eryk Masters: I don’t know what justice you’re talking about, Jeff, but Black indeed has come out victorious in this one, and whenever you face an opponent of that size, a victory over them is impressive.

We cut to what appears to be a medium-sized office:  Walls of the most perfect off-white, red carpeting, and a richly colored Mahogany podium.  Standing at this podium, clad in a black suit with an incredibly loud paisley-pattern purple shirt, is Kilgore Stochansky.  A cursory scan of our camera man’s leans reveals that behind him is a whole cadre of reporters, most of them wielding tape recorders and notepads.  There is a general buzz of noise, the result of many of them trying to get questions in over the others.  Intrepid Cameraman turns his lens back to Kilgore, who holds his hand out and smiles warmly, projecting his voice above the din. 

Kilgore: Ladies, Gentlemen, Please.  Please.  Any question you have can and will be taken after I’ve made my announcement. 

He waits patiently as the noise dies down.  He looks down at a sheet of paper, smiling with a bit of a smirk in his grin.

Kilgore: Thank you.  As of WAR, the management here at SHOOT Project have reinstated the old Laws of Survival.  These were the laws that I originally won the title under.  Now, Cade Sydal is the current champion.  But being as he won that under a match with quote-unquote “Fake” laws, he only really has one option. 

Our man’s smirk breaks into a full-bore grin.

Kilgore: Cade Sydal, as a man of honor, you must return that belt to its last true champion, the last man to win it under the original laws: Me. 

This causes an eruption of voices from the reporter’s side, and Stochansky points to one of them with a smile. 

Kilgore: Yes, you?

Reporter One: But what about Jester Smiles?  He won that title off of you while the old rules were still in place, and Trevor worrens—

Kilgore: Ah bap bap.  Sorry to interrupt, but I feel you need to get your facts straight before you go asking questions willy nilly.  Now, I don’t have any hard data with me that says that Jester Smiles ever was a Laws of Survival champion, nor any for Trevor Worrens.  Now, I remember both of them STEALING a belt from me, that I can recall with perfect clarity. 

More yelling, plenty of “Mr. Stochansky”s.  Our man scans the crowd, smoothing out his moustache before pointing to another reporter.

Kilgore: Yes, you, in the red. 

Reporter Two: You don’t really think Cade Sydal will hand the title that he won fair and square over to you, do you? 

Kilgore: Hm.  Well, I’d hope he would.  I’ll admit to not knowing much about him;  Really who does?  I’m proud of him, I know that.  To see a newcomer to the business succeed so early on is admirable.  But something the youngster’ll have to understand sooner or later is that this sport is about 50% competition, and 50% drama.  And I’d like to avoid any drama.  But!  But, since Cade has claimed himself to be a man of extreme honor, I can only assume he’ll hand the belt over to me.  Where it belongs. 

More noise, eliciting chuckles from Kilgore. 

Kilgore: Go ahead.

Reporter Three: Yes, what is your plan just in case Cade doesn’t give the belt back to you?

This gives Stochansky a moment’s pause, where he looks down and furrows his brow in concentration.  He absently taps the podium with his fingers.

Kilgore: Hmmm.  Man, that is a tough one.  See, part of me wants to say that what you’re suggesting is impossible.  I mean, I’m not asking for anything too crazy here; simply that he return my belt to me.  I’ve not threatened him with legal action nor physical violence upon his person.  All in all, I can’t fathom just why the scrappy newcomer wouldn’t see things my way. 

Another pause, this time accompanied by a stroking of the chin.  Stochansky’s face takes a more sinister tone, that predatory gleam in his eyes.

Kilgore: In that event, though?  Well, I guess I’d have to ask him to face me in a match.  And then I’d have to show him why my superior in ring experience spells out his loss.  It wouldn’t be malicious, however, that I can assure you.  I’d see it as a learning experience for him.  After all, it’s My division; He’s just renting it for a little bit. 

There’s a flurry of flashbulbs and questions, which our man waves off.

Kilgore: Sorry everyone, I’ve got a match to win later on, I have to be prepared.  Thank you for your time!

Stochansky walks to the side, exiting through a convenient door as the questions continue from the crowd of reporters.  Intrepid Cameraman focuses on the empty podium as we cut away…

“Awakening” by Switchfoot begins to play immediately as the focus returns back to the ring. However there is no pyro or video montage to accompany it.  Instead Trevor Worrens is out in the public view almost immediately. He stands there for a moment, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that are somewhat tight to his legs, and a form fitting black sweater that has a slight turtleneck to it.  His right arm is situated in a sling, which looks to be keeping his right arm tight to his side.

Eryk Masters: We heard the rumors, and actually we’ve heard this rumor once before… but tonight this feels like the real thing.

Other Guy: A damn shame too.

Worrens heads down to the ring, barely even looking at the crowd who cheer loudly for him.  Instead he just walks right up the steel steps, again pausing for just a moment.

Samantha Coil: At this time, please welcome Trevor Worrens!!!

The fans pop as Worrens slowly ducks in between the middle and top rope to enter the ring.  He then walks straight across the ring and obviously this is all expected as Worrens is immediately handed a microphone.  On that cue the music shuts off, leaving Worrens with the crowd.

Trevor Worrens: Okay… so…

Worrens can’t quite hold himself together.  He looks to his feet for a moment, microphone lowered to his side. “TREV-OR! TREV-OR!” the chanting starts up but Worrens just shakes his head as he keeps it down.

Trevor Worrens: No… that’s not fair.

Another pause.  His head comes up with his microphone.

Trevor Worrens: That’s not fair at all because I’m guessing a lot of you don’t feel that way.  Chanting my name, you don’t REALLY want to.  But it’s the nice thing to do.  I don’t even want to chant my own name right now.

Some of the chanting subsides but other fans seem more than dedicated to keeping it alive.   Again Worrens just shakes his head.

Trevor Worrens: It doesn’t work like that.  So stop.  I didn’t do anything to warrant a cheer from you people.  I didn’t do anything but get injured and that’s not something to get excited for… unless you don’t like me.  Unless you’re like some of the people in the back, or some of the people in the offices who don’t like me.

Worrens finally looks out at the fans.

Trevor Worrens: So right now, if you’re one of those people.  If you don’t like me.  You can cheer. You are allowed to cheer because at WAR Cade Sydal beat me, took my title… and INJURED ME!

A decent size cheer does sound throughout the arena now and Worrens nods as if expecting it.

Trevor Worrens: Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Maybe you think I’m a little stagnant, right?  Or, or maybe you couldn’t wrap your brains around the way I saw what the Laws of Survival Championship meant, right?  Or maybe you’re one of the people who can’t stand when this industry doesn’t give you cookie cutter templates.  Yeah… you people cheer.  Come on!  COME ON AND FUCKING CHEER!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  The very same people to cheer boo now as they can sense the hostility in Worrens’s voice. His body trembles slightly.

Trevor Worrens: Yeah, fuck you too.  Because I didn’t think I was stagnant, I very well saw the big picture behind the Laws of Survival championship, and I was proud and passionate about not fitting the stupid mold people HAVE to have in place.

“QUIT WHINING!” the shout comes from closer to the ring and some of the fans near ringside either laugh or join in with agreement.  Worrens looks to the front couple rows for a moment, scanning the fans with his eyes but then continues on.

Trevor Worrens: Everything I was feeling, every emotion in my body, every ounce of motivation I had was represented by the Laws of Survival Championship.  So excuse me if I’m a little frustrated.  Excuse me if I get a little emotional.  But I’m mad, okay?  There’s a lot of things I’m supposed to come out here and say, and at the end of it, there’s only one thing I’m supposed to do.

And that’s leave the ring when I’ve said it.

A slight pause.

Trevor Worrens: Leave the ring… and not come back… for at least six months.

The fans buzz now as Worrens lets the new sink in.

Jeff Hansen: Well, that pretty much confirmed it. So long Worrens.

Other Guy: Cold Jeff, real damn cold.

Jeff Hansen: Do you think I’m going to start caring now how you feel about me?  War is over, but this thing between us doesn’t miraculously change.

Worrens continues to just stand silently in the ring, eventually he brings himself to continue on.

Trevor Worrens: So as for the latter, yeah I don’t really have a choice in that matter.  I will leave the ring after I’m done.  But as for the things I’m supposed to come out and say.  The things they want me to say, no.  This is my moment, and I’m not going to waste it to fit their wants and needs.  So here it goes.

Worrens takes a deep breath, then exhales.

Trevor Worrens: I have impingement of the shoulder.  The non-surgical option did not take so I need surgery. I’m feeling a ton of pain and that’s really what it comes down to.  We’re not a bunch of doctors here so I’m not about to talk technical.

I’m not going to even talk about the surgery because I’m mad. I’m mad at a lot of people.

“SHUT UP AND BE A MAN!” the shout comes again. Worrens looks in the direction of where it sounded like the shout came from, again scanning the crowd.  The fans all just shout different things, which meld together into one collective noise.  Worrens shakes his head and talks in the general direction he’s looking.

Trevor Worrens: My time, I’ll shut up when I’m done.

He turns away from the section and continues.

Trevor Worrens: But the one person I’m not mad at, the one person everyone felt would be the FIRST person I take my frustrations out on, is the new Laws of Survival Champion… Cade Sydal.

The fans cheer loudly at the mention of Cade and Worrens nods his head in agreement.

Trevor Worrens: He deserves that cheer.  I know people thought I’d turn sour on him.  People assume because of how I treated Eric it would be the same for Cade.  But I’m going to be honest.  Eric and I were friends when it was good for both of us.  We weren’t real friends, and at the end of the day he picked his real friends when he joined the Sons of Liberty.

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!  A bigger pop but this time Worrens seems to scoff slightly.

Trevor Worrens: My feelings about that, whole other story.  Point is, Eric wasn’t my friend.  Cade… Cade is.  And at WAR, Cade proved he DOES deserve that championship belt.  Because he is not sorry.

Cade is not sorry that he caused the final blow that is going to put me on the shelf.  Which means he will do whatever he has to do to survive as champion… as the champion I…

Worrens begins to get choked up, and one of the close up camera shots capture some tears in the former champion’s eyes.

Trevor Worrens: I’m… I’m real sorry about this.

“STOP CRYING ABOUT IT!” another shout sounds loudly and Worrens marches to the section its coming from and takes a hard stand.

Trevor Worrens: It’s really easy for someone out there to judge me.  You don’t get it though.  I thought I did SO much for the Laws of Survival Championship, because it was doing so much for me. It gave me a focus; it gave me my very reason for being.  And you don’t get it.  Nobody out there gets it, nobody in the back gets it….

The Laws of Survival Championship WAS my World Title.  It doesn’t get bigger than that, and now they want to revert back to the old ways. Give all of you people the clichéd matches of the past and worse… turn the title BACK into just a stepping-stone… and that PISSES me off!

Worrens loses it now as he walks frantically about the ring.

Trevor Worrens: You can’t do different here. It scares them, and when I got injured that’s what they talked to me about. They didn’t talk to me about getting better, or paying the best doctors.  They didn’t try to find someway that didn’t have me out of action for six months.  They said get healthy and then they told me that when I get back, the Laws of Survival will be what it used to be.

Cage match, Ladder match, two out of three falls match, falls count anywhere… blah blah blah… that kind of stuff people survive ALL the time.  We’ve seen it done over and over and over in this industry and that isn’t survival.  This show, oh man… this show is called REVOLUTION, and the people who make matches happen in the back can’t get their asses out of the past long enough to live up to that name.

Hero and villains, under dogs and monsters… it’s DONE TO DEATH! And I’ mad at those people… I’m pissed off that everything I believed the Laws of Survival Championship stood for, no rules, everything goes… is going to be stifled.

“DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT AND SHUT UP!”

Now the source of the shout stands up, and about three rows back a man is seen standing. Worrens only catches a brief glimpse before more fans stand as a way to get their five seconds of fame from the camera.

Trevor Worrens: Listen! There’s not a whole lot I can do right now, so I’m doing what I can by NOT promoting a division that so wrongly uses the word survival. Because in survival there ARE. NO. LAWS!  They just want to string together a bunch of high profile matches, fine.  But it’s not survival, its just flash for the fans.  It’s just a bunch of “ooohs” and “ahhhhs”

So as far as I’m concerned.  What that title meant… dies with me.  The real passion of that title… dies with me.

“YOU DON’T KNOW REAL PASSION!” The shout comes again and Worrens has had enough.

Trevor Worrens: (half into the microphone) I’m sick of this.

He marches to the ropes and half exits the ring on the side where the one fan stood up moments ago.

Trevor Worrens: You think you know something about passion? You think you know ANYTHING about what I am going through right now?  Then come on, say it.  This is your chance now.

The fans all cheer and move about, allowing the man to be seen again.  Some fans don’t get out of the way though so he’s half lost and the cameras can’t find him.

Trevor Worrens: get a microphone out to him or something, come on.

One of the ring crewmembers takes a microphone and beckons for a cameraman to follow him. The two climb over the guardrail and into the sea of fans.

Eryk Masters: I’m not sure about the legal ramifications of this move, but I guess Worrens has had enough from whoever this heckling fan is.

Jeff Hansen: Great. Now every Tom, Dick, and Jane is going to think they’ll get airtime if they piss off the right wrestler.

The camera is a bit shaky at first as the ring crewmember and the cameraman move through the first few rows of fans, but they finally find who they’re looking for.  The image is put up on the Revolution Video screen as well for the rest of the fans to see, and at first people start to buzz.

Other Guy: Hold the phone here… Eryk I wasn’t around for a lot of SHOOT’s past but…

Eryk Masters: I can’t believe it.

Other Guy: That’s what I thought.

The buzz only gets louder as the realization sets in.  He stands before everyone in just a pair of blue jeans and a red t-shirt.  His build adds to the reminder to everyone that he’s not a common fan.  Muscular and at least six feet, most likely more, his brown eyes sort of dart about as if he was surprised to be called out like this.  The buzz continues, word travels through the arena faster and faster…

“That man’s Wolf-son!” Clap Clap Clap-Clap-Clap!”  “That man’s Wolf-son!” Clap Clap Clap-Clap-Clap!

Eryk Masters: How long has it been since we’ve seen Eric Wolfson in a wrestling ring, and even more so a SHOOT Project Wrestling Ring!

Other Guy: Been a long ass time.

Jeff Hansen: Oh yeah? Really and where does “long ass” fit in a timeline?  Between short and long, or even past regular long?

Other Guy: I’m taking in this moment is what I’m gonna do and just ignore you for right now.

The sold out crowd is alive and buzzing and inside the ring, Worrens looks completely shocked and surprised by this moment.  Wolfson cracks a bit of a smile but then lets it fade as he takes the microphone he was brought.

Eric Wolfson: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt the show or anything, I just had to see this in person. Seriously, I apologize to everyone for causing a scene. It was just hard to sit here and watch this crap quietly. Maybe it’s the virus of this business that still runs through my blood, I don’t know. Whatever the case may be, like I said, I didn’t intend to interrupt the show. My apologies again. Go ahead, continue entertaining the world with your bitching.

“WOLF-SON!” “WOLF-SON!” a chant starts up and Eric Wolfson makes a “please continue” gesture with his arm.”

Eric Wolfson: Seriously. You don’t know me; I don’t know you, at least… not personally and, yeah, just go ahead. My fault.

Wolfson seats himself again and leans back in his chair. The people around him begin patting him on the shoulders yet despite the scene surrounding him his eyes stay fixed on the figure in the ring in front of him.  The "Wolfson" chant continues and Worrens just stands in the ring, eyes locked with Wolfson’s

Trevor Worrens: Wow… I mean… seriously? Look, I know very much who you are. A lot of people know who you are. Which is exactly why now more than ever I want you to come into this ring.

Worrens pauses.

Trevor Worrens: I want Eric Wolfson to come in here and PLEASE explain what he thinks I don’t know.

The crowd cheers at the idea but Wolfson stays seated in his chair. He smiles and just shakes his head.

Eric Wolfson: Look, man, all right, I said I was sorry. This really isn’t my place to be getting involved. If you feel you need to cry to the fans or your peers or the people who employ you, go right ahead. Just, please, don’t get any tears on the mat. Nobody likes to have to come out and wrestle on a mat covered in some little girl’s tears. So go ahead and entertain me. That’s what I paid for. Thought I might actually see a man in the ring when you came out, but I can deal with a bitch if I have to. Just get it over with so the real wrestlers can get some ring time.

Other Guy: Whoa! Eric Wolfson NOT holding back here… pretty intense stuff.

Jeff Hansen: Oh I get it. I call Worrens a crybaby and I’m mean. But some wrestling legend like Wolfson does it and suddenly it’s intense?

Eryk Masters: Whatever you call it, Eric Wolfson obviously here for a reason, and he’s obviously made it his point to get involved with the former Laws of Survival Champion.

Worrens glares hard at Wolfson now, but then slowly backs away from the ring ropes.

Trevor Worrens: Right… look I came out here to say my piece.  You clearly have a problem with that so this legitimately surprises me.  I’m sure EVERYONE is legitimately surprised and I can’t do this like this. you want to sling words…

Worrens marches back up to the ring ropes.

Trevor Worrens: Then do it right here, in the ring, nose to nose!

The fans pick up and shouts of encouragement echo throughout the arena.

Trevor Worrens: I might be injured, but I think with one good arm I can take on someone who hasn’t been in a ring for years.

Wolfson doesn’t immediately respond, rather he just sits there in his seat motionless. Finally, he stands up once more.

Eric Wolfson: All right, look, I guess I owe you that much. Let me explain something to you…

Wolfson heads for the guardrail and glances at the security guard quickly to get the okay to climb over before doing so. He pauses at the ring apron initially, almost as if he’s reluctant but finally rolls under the bottom rope. He climbs to his feet and looks down at the mat, then around the ring, before walking over to Worrens with microphone in hand.

Eric Wolfson: Look, Trevor… Mind if I call you Trevor? Look, Trevor, I mean, look at yourself, man. Seriously, look at yourself. Standing here, former friggin’ Laws of Survival Champion, banged up… You just lost your Championship, like a man, in a war and yet you stand out here tonight… And cry about it? I mean, that’s your answer? To cry about it? You really think that’s going to make ANY difference to anybody? You really think that’s going to gain you anything other than the reputation of a bitch?

Wolfson puts his hands up into the air and takes a step backward.

Eric Wolfson: Whoa, wait a sec, bro, I didn’t mean that to be offensive. Seriously. But I mean, look around the crowd here tonight. Hell, look around the guys in the locker room. How do you think these people are looking at you? When you come out here and act the way you’re acting, what do you expect your reputation to look like? I mean, you don’t need me to tell you these things. Just look around for a second, man. You’ll see.

Worrens is left speechless for a moment.

Trevor Worrens: So you’re here to tell me how to handle my career? You’ve picked right here and right now… when your career has been over?  What do you know about the locker room, about me… what do you know about passion, huh?

Wolfson just smirks and looks down at his feet for a moment before looking back up at Worrens’ face.

Eric Wolfson: Everything.

The crowd cheers again.

Eric Wolfson: I know all about that locker room, Trevor, and I don’t even have to step one foot into it. Why? Because it’s the same as the next one. It’s the same as every other one. No matter how old some of the guys may be or, hell, even how young, it’s always the same thing. Trust me, they’re back there right now laughing at you. Just about every one of them. Why are they laughing? Because they don’t respect you. Not like this. They did, but not today. And they will again, if you play your cards right.

Worrens doesn’t respond, rather he just raises his eyebrows as if he’s waiting for Wolfson to elaborate on whatever point he might be trying to make.

Eric Wolfson: Passion. That’s what it’s all about, right? Trevor Worrens the most passionate son of a bitch in the SHOOT Project. He knows all about passion because he held the Laws of Survival Championship and now that it’s gone, he lies awake at night. Getting close at all? He misses all the perks of being a Champion. He can’t stop thinking about what was. What HE was. What he’s not anymore. And that’s passion, right? The fact that the Laws of Survival Championship occupies his every waking thought constitutes extreme passion. Right?

Worrens hesitates to nod his head, realizing he’ll fall into whatever Wolfson will say next. Yet he does so anyway… Worrens nods his head.

Eric Wolfson: Wrong.

Wolfson begins to slowly walk along the side of Worrens and then behind him, slowly pacing around him.

Eric Wolfson: That Championship has absolutely nothing to do with passion. Believe it or not, Trevor, it means nothing at all. It’s a shiny piece of gold and nothing more. Worth it’s own value in dollars, perhaps, but nothing else. Look at a guy like me. Back in the day, I didn’t blaze onto the scene and win a Championship. I busted my ass night in and night out because I loved what I did. I didn’t win a whole lot of Championships but when I did, they certainly weren’t my driving force. My name… That was the motivation. My love for what I did, for this business that was the motivation. That was my passion. And to this day, I may not be remembered as some former Champion. But I AM remembered for my actions. For what I’ve accomplished. For whom I’ve went to hell and back with. For the fact that I’m still alive today despite it all. So I ask you, Trevor, what do you want to be remembered for? Can you really stand there and tell me you want to be remembered… As this?

Worrens hesitates again, but his frustration has died and the expression on his face suggests deep thought.  He lifts his arm slowly; the microphone at his lips, but at first nothing comes out.

Trevor Worrens: … no.

He looks Wolfson straight in the eyes when he stands before him.  Wolfson just nods his head once.

Eric Wolfson: I didn’t think so.

Wolfson drops his microphone and in silent understanding, Worrens drops his as well.  The two exit the ring as “Awakening” plays once more.  As they leave, the focus cuts away to Other Guy, Eryk Masters, and Jeff Hansen.

Eryk Masters: What now? What does this mean?  We know Worrens has to have surgery but what a development in seeing the arrival of Eric Wolfson here tonight!

Other Guy: Big things a happenin’ no doubt, but what does this mean for the long time wrestling veteran? Is he here in SHOOT, did he come here just for Worrens, I mean what the hell?

Jeff Hansen: Ugh, patience is not your strong suit at all, OG. Obviously Eric Wolfson showed his face for one reason or another.  So we’ll find it out at some time or another what that reason was.  I’m just happy that someone maybe, just MAYBE slapped a little whine out of Worrens.

Eryk Masters: Definitely a story that will hopefully be followed up on.  We do wish Trevor Worrens a very safe surgery and as speedy a recovery as possible, as a former wrestler, when you don’t want to take a leave of absence, it’s that much harder to have to when you have no other option.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah but weren’t you bat shit insane or something?

The question is left unanswered as the focus shifts to the entryway to capture Worrens and Wolfson together just before disappearing to the back. From there the night continues on elsewhere.

There’s something about vending machines in almost every arena SHOOT travels to. It’s like they know the SHOOT guys make a lot of money and they try to steal as much of it as they can. This particular machine has taken Osbourne Kilminster’s money and not offered him the nice, cold bottle of Evian in exchange.

Osbourne Kilminster: Damned machine…

Kicking it, he shakes his head as he walks away down the corridor, licking his dry lips. His attention is caught by a sign above the door to his right, simple, bold and definitely not what he was looking for… but still…

T.M.B.

He raps the door lightly and adjusts the gold belt which rests over his shoulder.

TMB: This has better be good, I’m tryign to get focused for my match…oh…look who we have here. Didn’t expect to see you after our lovely talk.

Shrugging his shoulders, Osbourne pushes his way in through the door and takes a seat.

Osbourne Kilminster: I just thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing before your big match and all. I’ve got some time to kill, you know?

TMB: Heh, I got a few myself and I doubt you just came here. Whatcha need, Champ?

Looking up at Black, Osbourne nods, shrugging his shoulders again as he stands.

Osbourne Kilminster: Seriously, all messing around aside, I thought I’d check in on you. He’s a big guy you’ve got… stupid, but big. Have you got your gameplan sorted out?

TMB: Pretty much, I’m aiming for his back and ribs. I figure it doesn’t matter how big or strong you are, you are going to need to breathe. Take away his air and the monster will fall.

TMB grins.

TMB: But what do you have planned for tonight?

Osbourne Kilminster: Not a whole lot, really. I caught up with Ron earlier to sponge a favour off him. Right now, I’m just waiting around to hear from Jada. Do you need a hand with anything?

TMB: Forgive me if I seem a little cautious around you. But this is a total 180 from the last time I saw you. Why does it seem like you are tryign to pick up the reigns somewhat?

Kilminster smirks and laughs a little.

Osbourne Kilminster: Picking up the reigns? Nah. I’ve just got my own thing going on. Surely a man like you can appreciate that, right? Anyway, it’s up to you – I could stop here and help you tape up and run some drills or I could head out there and beat the Hell out of another stealing vending machine…

He points to the door and shrugs.

TMB smiles, he’ll play the game for now. he tosses the tape over to Kilminister.

TMB: Must be my winning smile and love for chicken and watermelon that wants you to allow me in your little plans.

Smirking ever so slightly, Osbourne places his belt down on the chair and peels the tape open, beginning to wind it around Black’s right wrist and up right around the palm of his hand and between each finger to cover the knuckle region.

Osbourne Kilminster: I can’t help but feel… drawn to someone who looks at the world through the same cynical eyes as I do…

TMB: I could say the same thing. But I don’t want it to look like we are sucking each other’s dick. Thats what we have are women for. Heh or at least 20 dollars and a key to Lake’s room.

Kilminster laughs as he tears the tape off and begins work on the other hand.

Osbourne Kilminster: Lake’s well and truly in the hole now. I dunno if I’m so happy about Jada going in there, but she’s stubborn and she’s not going to stop until she’s got what she wants.

Taking a deep breath, he looks up from TMB’s hand for a minute.

Osbourne Kilminster: So… you and Nova?

TMB: Nova is a pet project. I’m trying to see if I can turn a joke into a killer punchline. A real bitch modelled after my own image. Very tasty. But lets finish this sans camera…don’t want to give away too many gifts before Dec 25th.

Kilminster nods and looks right into the camera.

Osbourne Kilminster: Get the Hell out. NOW.

The camera opens to show the Ainsley Lake, the SHOOT Project Revolution Champion, standing next to Dutch Harris. They’re sitting in Ainsley’s locker room together, and cheers from the crowd can be heard from the main area of the arena.

Dutch Harris: Thank you for taking the time out of your night to speak with us. Tonight, you’re defending your belt against the woman you won it from, Sinnocence.

Ainsley Lake: That I am. If I have my way, she’ll fight and fail for this belt more times with it around my waist than she ever did when it was around hers. There’s no excuse for how she behaves, and I’m not going to humor her and play nice. I can acknowledge her skill in the ring. But that doesn’t mean I like the woman at all.

Ainsley grabs a small Skeletor action figure from her makeup table. She spins the head around idly, just for something to do with her hands. It’s not a fidgeting action for the sake of calming herself down or anything like that. It’s more that her energy is boundless, and she needs a place to put it.

Dutch Harris: You’ve been very critical of Sinnocence’s title reign. Some say that you’ve belabored that point more than is appropriate.

Ainsley Lake: Not in the slightest. I’ve been no more critical than she deserves, and she deserves a lot more derision for how she’s acted. She doubles back on herself to try and sound like some sort of good person which is, frankly, hilarious.

Sinnocence has a habit of assigning her flaws to other people, and it’s always transparent. I don’t want an easy reign, that’s her thing. When I mentioned it in my promos, she latched on the idea of easy reigns as though the concept of someone having one sickened her. There’s not a single unique thought in her head.

Dutch Harris: Sinnocence says that she’s not Jonny’s friend, and that she never was. What do you have to say about that?

Ainsley continues spinning the head of her action figure, nodding. A real skeleton wouldn’t have been as forgiving, but 80s toys were meant to be abused.

Ainsley Lake: I figured she’d say that. But it still just goes to show: She’ll use someone for as long as they’re useful, use their connections to get things like matches with a blindfolded rookie, but when she sees that they can’t give her anything else, she drops them. The fact that she somehow manages to sleep at night and live with herself is the largest testament to her psychotic stubborness that I can think of.

The Sons of Liberty might not all be sunshine and rainbows and without their issues with one another, but we’ve at least got real respect for one another. I can’t imagine Corazon saying that he was only ever a Son of Liberty because it was the pragmatic thing to do. I can’t imagine Jester Smiles saying, "Well, actually, I hate pretty much all of them except Nightmare, so they can all go play in traffic for all I care." Even if it’s true, it’s just really poor diplomacy, and it makes the person saying it look far worse than it makes their allies look.

Dutch Harris: Do you think that you and Sinnocence will continue to battle it out for the Revolution Championship?

Ainsley Lake: Do you want an honest answer or do you want a vague answer that won’t get me in trouble?

Harris smiles at Ainsley.

Dutch Harris: Try for honesty and not getting in trouble at the same time, Ainsley.

Ainsley Lake: Alright, here goes… Sinnocence is a talented wrestler. She can obviously hang with the best in this business, and she can beat the piss out of most of ’em on a good night. But I’m getting sick of dealing with her. I miss her lazy six-sentence promos, because it meant I didn’t have to listen to her for nearly as long. I want to be a fighting champion, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to oblige me for as long as I have the belt. Wanting to be a fighter, however, doesn’t mean that I want to be fighting with her. Call it ADD, call it inability to be consistent… But I can’t find myself wanting to throw down with her week in and week out.

We’ve also got plenty of people in SHOOT Project who are just as deserving as she is. Giving her the opportunity to keep fighting for this belt over and over is ludicrous. She’s got her re-match. God willing, I win that tonight. And if I do, I hope that the people on the roster and the guys in charge realize that she had her chance with this gold and she blew it.

I want people who haven’t had the shot before to try and get this belt. I want people who had a shot with other champions to try. I want to see former holders of this belt come back and put me to the test. I don’t want ANYONE to think that I’m afraid of the people on this roster. I might lose tonight. I might lose next week. But I’m not afraid of any of you guys, and I’m not afraid to tell anyone and everyone to come and try to take this belt from me.

Dutch Harris: Is that an open challenge?

Ainsley Lake: If that’s what you wanna call it, sure. And even if I don’t have the belt? It remains. I will fight anyone on this roster on any week. If there’s a single person in this company who wants to get in the ring with me, I welcome the challenge. Belt or not, I am a representative of SHOOT Project, and I will do everything in my power to show it in the best light.

The fans once more cheer from the arena. Both Ainsley and the fans seem more comfortable cheering the high-flier from Long Island than with booing her. Lake and Harris pause, letting them enjoy themselves, before Harris speaks again.

Dutch Harris: We look forward to seeing how that works out for you, Ainsley. Once more, thank you for your time, and good luck tonight.

Ainsley Lake: You’re always welcome. Thank your for giving me the time to vent. Hopefully you’ll still be able to introduce me as the Revolution Champion when we speak next week, at Revolution 50.

The lights in the arena dim, and there’s a buzz of excitement coming over the crowd. A Synth line begins to blare over the PA. Soon, the lights come up with plenty of blue and orange spotlight effects, and standing in the entranceway are a giant and a much smaller energetic man. As a smattering of boos begin to come across the crowd, Samantha Coil gets on the mic…

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following Tag Team Contest is for one fall…Introducing first, at a combined weight of Five Hundred and Seventy two Pounds…Alexander Vaka and the "Style Warrior", Curtis Rose…FEAR AND LOATHING!!

As "Where We At" by Hangar 18 continues to play, the boos of the crowd begin to intensify as recognition sets in. Vaka simply lumbers to the ring, cracking his knuckles absently, but his partner is as energetic as he is laconic, running about and getting fist bumps and high fives wherever he can find them.

Eryk Masters: Now technically Fear and Loathing have already debuted as we all witnessed at WAR, but tonight they get some ACTUAL competition in the form of yet another new tag team to join the ranks within SHOOT Project.

Jeff Hansen: I don’t see how this match is going to be that much more of a step up from two weeks ago.

As Rose slides into the ring, he pulls his fiberglass facemask on and leaps onto the top turnbuckle, pointing to the crowd despite the boos coming from them. Vaka steps over the top rope and begins stretching, right until Fear and Loathing’s music cuts off. Both Vaka and Rose look towards the entranceway as a rocking track begins to play, to the cheers of the crowd.

Samantha Coil: And Their Opponents…coming in at a combined weight of Three Hundred and Ninety Five Pounds…Alex Brooks and Jerry Eisenhower are…MADE FOR TV!!

Jerry Eisenhower emerges and simply raises his arms, to a polite set of cheers from the crowd. Blasting out from backstage with enough energy for the both of them is Alex Brooks, who intensifies the crowd response with simple excitement.

Other Guy: Gotta hand it to these two, you got the experienced wrestler who never got his big break, and the still we behind the ears wrestling fan turned wrestler… that puts this duo at odds but ya gotta respect their drive and determination.

Jeff Hansen: This match hasn’t started and you’re already saying they have drive and determination?

Eryk Masters: I think he’s referring to the Wrestling Spirit contest and how it’s gotten them into a SHOOT Project ring here tonight.

Jeff Hansen: Right, I forgot that winning some reality competition makes you ready for this industry.  Give me a break.

Jerry begins to walk towards the ring, slowly making his way there. His partner is the complete opposite, running back and forth to both sides of the aisle, slapping any hand that’s offered to him, his smile undiminishable. Both men climb into the ring, and as the music fades away, Brooks is seen shaking both Samantha Coil’s and Referee Chris Jenkins’ hands.

Eryk Masters: This tag match set to begin in just a moment, and with all that’s been happening within the tag team division, I can only see this as an opportunity for both teams to make an impact in their respective debut matches… REAL debut matches that is.

The bell sounds and Brooks moves away from the referee and into the corner, allowing for Eisenhower to start out the match.  Curtis Rose stays in the ring opposite Eisenhower, but shakes his head and continually points at Brooks.

Other Guy: Looks like The Style Warrior only wants Brooks.

Jeff Hansen: Eliminating the lesser experienced at the start of the match is a good strategy. There might be something to Fear and Loathing after all.

Eisenhower looks to his partner while the referee motions for the match to begin, but Rose crosses his arms, refusing to leave the corner.  The fans boo the stubbornness of Style Warrior, but then suddenly cheer as Alex Brooks slaps Eisenhower on the back and vaults over the top rope.

Eryk Masters: I guess Brooks is ready for a fight and to make his debut under the bright SHOOT Project spotlight.  So here we go… Brooks in quickly and Rose taken RIGHT off guard as he FLIES with a splash in the corner!

Other Guy: Guess Rose should have done less pouting and more preparing.

The fans give a decent pop as Brooks now works a quick series of chops against Rose, but Rose soon shoves Brooks back and then follows up with a textbook high dropkick.  Brooks hits the mat but rolls onto his stomach and pushes right up to his feet, but here comes Rose off the ropes, looking for a bulldog take down, NO!  Brooks shoves Rose through, but Rose puts on the breaks and turns, quick boot to the gut of Brooks. Brooks doubles over and Rose immediately LEAPS over him with a flip, and he grabs the legs to roll him into a quick pin.

Jenkins drops to make the count.

ONE!

TWO!

Kick out by Brooks, but Rose keeps moving quick and he runs straight for the upper left corner. Without hesitation Rose runs up the turnbuckle pads and then turns his body and FLIES at Brooks. Brooks has just enough time to get up, before Rose hooks his legs around Brooks’s neck and flips him around with a picture perfect hurricanrana!

Eryk Masters: Quick aerial assault from the man known as Style Warrior who is putting on a solid showing here tonight in Charlotte.

Other Guy: Yeah he’s a tough one to make heads or tails out of. I mean one minute you want to hate the guy, but the next ya can’t help but be impressed with what he can do.

With Brooks back down, Rose is on one knee to the side and starts nailing very aggressive forearm strikes to Brooks’s face.  Brooks tries to get the arms up to block, but Rose continues showing his mean streak by forcefully shoving the arms away and landing a few more forearm shots.  Finally he gets up, only to VIOLENTLY kick Brooks in the side, causing Brooks to roll over onto his stomach, clutching his side in pain.  Rose drops down to his knees and pulls Brooks over onto his back again and makes another cover.

The count is made…

ONE!

TWO!

THR… but Brooks shows his own tenacity and shoulders out.  Rose yanks him right up to his feet and whips Brooks into the ropes. Brooks comes bouncing back and Rose preps for a snapping arm drag, turning his back slightly, but Brooks puts on the breaks and then drops to the mat and rolls up Rose from behind.

The fans pop!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE…. Rose JUST gets out of the pinning predicament.  He’s up to his feet, Brooks up to his, and Rose charges in angrily.  Brooks side steps and lands a textbook drop toe hold then floats over into a sitting headlock position. Rose pushes up off the mat but Brooks wrenches his neck, causing him to go down to one knee.  Rose struggles now as Brooks tries to stay on the offense, but now Rose stands up again and this time lifts Rose up and over… but Rose FLIPS all the way to land on his feet, drops to the mat…

And rolls up Rose again!

Other Guy: There’s just no quit in the kid… another pin attempt.

ONE!

TWO!

And Vaka with a big boot shot to Brooks to break the count.  The fans boo as referee Chris Jenkins sees to it that Vaka leaves the ring, and with his back turned, Rose starts choking Brooks, which draws the ire of Eisenhower.  The slightly bigger Eisenhower storms the ring and grabs Rose from behind, pulling him off of Brooks.  The referee turns around just in time and shouts for the two to break it up.  Eisenhower backs away into his corner, leaving the easily riled up Style Warrior to start jaw jacking at him.  With Rose’s back turned, Brooks gets back with it… sneaks up from behind…

A THIRD ROLL UP!

The fans are cheering loudly.

ONE!

TWO!

THRe…. Rose just manages to kick out once more and now he’s up and he WILDLY swings with a clothesline at Brooks, but Brooks ducks and leaps forward to make a tag into Eisenhower!

Eryk Masters: And here comes the more experienced member of Made for TV, and let’s see what he brings to the table!

Rose turns and is immediately met with a hard double axe handle to the top of the head.  Rose goes down to one knee and Eisenhower pulls him right back up and then fires a right jab, then another right, then a third right. Rose staggers about and Eisenhower hits the ropes now to build up some momentum.  Rose regains his bearings just in time and as Eisenhower charges; Rose summersaults forward and springs up with a diving clothesline! Eisenhower is taken down and Rose capitalizes by turning quickly to the up ring ropes… and SPRINGS off the top rope with a line drive moonsault that connects with Eisenhower’s body.

Rose immediately hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO

Hard kick out from Eisenhower.  Rose moves to his corner now and tags in the much bigger Alexander Vaka.  Vaka steps into the ring, but Rose stays in as well, climbing to the top rope behind Vaka.  Vaka lifts up both his hands and as Eisenhower gets to his feet Rose grabs Vaka’s hands and VAULTS over the seven foot man and lands a sitting dropkick to Eisenhower. Eisenhower staggers back as Vaka hits the ropes and just DRILLS Eisenhower with a lariat!

Jeff Hansen: Good team combinations is ultimately what makes or breaks a tag team, and like I said, there seems to be something to Fear and Loathing after all, besides their own egos…. They’re earning my personal respect here tonight.

Vaka doesn’t go for the pin, but instead pulls Eisenhower back up, only to take him right back down to the mat via a hard body slam.  On the outside, Brooks tries to get a rally going for his partner, but to no avail. Vaka has Eisenhower up again and he has him by the throat with both hands… lifts him… and TOSSES him into the upper right corner post.

Eisenhower slumps up against the turnbuckle pads and Vaka charges in… EISENHOWER JUST MOVES OUT OF THE WAY!  Vaka gets a chest full of padding and Eisenhower now starts punching at Vaka’s back and kicking at his legs, causing the big man to falter.  Finally Eisenhower has him cut down to size enough to pull his head back and DROP Vaka straight down with a reverse DDT.  Vaka writhes in slight pain, clutching at his head and now Eisenhower up onto the second rope…. He closes his fist tightly…

And DROPS it down into Vaka’s face!

Other Guy: We don’t have a whole lot on either Eisenhower or Brooks, but that’s Eisenhower’s trademark fist drop the Kansas City Shuffle!

Eryk Masters: Could that be enough for Made for TV to pick up a debut victory.

Jeff Hansen: Are you blind, Masters? Vaka is seven feet four hundred pounds… no way a fist drop ends this match.

Eisenhower makes the cover on Vaka now, managing to hook one of his massive legs.  Some of the crowd are on their feet.

ONE!

TW… But not even a full two count as Vaka powers out from under Eisenhower, nearly sending him out of the ring.  Eisenhower pulls himself up on the outside ring edge though just as Vaka comes at him and throws his shoulder through the ropes into Vaka’s gut…. NO!  Vaka catches him through the ropes into a standing head scissors and pulls Eisenhower through.

OOOOOOH!

The fans buzz and react with concern as Eisenhower is in a terrible spot.  Vaka HOISTS Eisenhower way up and then SPIKES him way down with a jackknife powerbomb!  Eisenhower arches his back upward in pain and Vaka stands over him and occasionally shoves him around with his boot, adding a bit of insult to injury.  Eisenhower finally tries to get up, but Vaka just right there to pull him up the rest of the way and NAIL a huge punch to the face. Eisenhower staggers back and Vaka continues on the offense.  He grabs Eisenhower around the waist and then LIFTS him high with a turn around belly-to-belly slam!  Vaka springs up to his feet in big man fashion and lets out a loud powerful grunt.

BOOOOOOOOOOO!

Vaka just swats his arm out at the fans and now taunts Eisenhower to get up.  Brooks reaches out in his corner while stomping his foot, trying to get some motivation going for his partner.  Eisenhower works on pushing himself up to his feet and Vaka continues to wait, a bully-ish smile on his face.

Eryk Masters: Eisenhower needs a tag here as his back has already taken a lot of damage at the hands of the big man Vaka.

Other Guy: And Brooks is ready and waiting for his shot here, this could mean a turning point in the match if the fired up Brooks can get in this match.

Eisenhower is up to his feet but Vaka sizing him up.  The crowd on edge and Vaka storms in looking for A HUGE big boot but Eisenhower ducks, gets behind Vaka and throws his FULL WEIGHT INTO A CHOP BLOCK!  Vaka stumbles forward, losing his balance and now Eisenhower scrambles to the corner.  No one top stop him…

TAG IN TO BROOKS!

Jeff Hansen: Son of a…

Other Guy: David versus Goliath, and in this case our David is running on some serious excitement!

The fans feed off of Brooks’s intensity as he jumps up and down nodding his head while sizing up Vaka.  Vaka regains his base footing and Brooks takes his moment… he charges in!

And Vaka turns and CRUSHES Brooks with a Vertical chop down onto the top of his head!  Brooks drops to the mat immediately and the crowd is silenced just as quickly.  Vaka wastes no time lifting Brooks up for a HUGE flapjack after that, but as Brooks comes crashing towards the mat, Vaka drives him the rest of the way down with a MASSIVE elbow strike to the neck and head!

Jeff Hansen: I think Alex Brooks just died.  And that’s the real David versus Goliath for you… David gets ANIHILATED!

Brooks lies motionless on the mat and Vaka makes the cover.  As Jenkins drops to make the count, Eisenhower goes for a last ditch effort to make the save… but Rose OFF THE TOP ROPE… and he DRILLS EISENHOWER IN THE FACE WITH BOTH HIS KNEES!!!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

The referee calls for the bell and “Where We At” begins to play once more.  Both Vaka and Rose get up to their feet, with Rose running around the ring now in huge celebration.

Samantha Coil: Here are your winners of the match… Alexander Vaka and Curtis Rose… FEAR AND LOATHING!!!

Eryk Masters: So the hot tag turned out to be not so hot as the energetic but very green superstar in the making Alex Brooks is quickly cut down by the large and in charge Alexander Vaka.

Other Guy: Yeah but considering how many people out there wouldn’t have the balls to even step into a ring, I still show some serious respect to a guy like Brooks and a guy like Eisenhower.  They’re living their dream…

Jeff Hansen: Cry some tears, hope and glory… yeah we’ve heard that about a million times in wrestling.  End of the day though, its guys like Curtis Rose and Alexander Vaka who get ahead because of raw power and talent.  Not dreams and hope.

As Vaka and Rose leave the ring, referee Chris Jenkins checks on Eisenhower and Brooks.  Both men seem to be hurting pretty badly and after a moment of focusing on them, the action cuts away to elsewhere.

Osbourne can’t help but smile broadly as he walks along the corridor, a good five pounds lighter since he offloaded his paperwork onto Ron Barker and feeling that his good deed for the day is done after his meeting with TMB.

Opening the locker-room door marked with his own name, his smile broadens as he sees the lovely Jada Kaine waiting for him, pulling off her backpack as he drops his Iron Fist Championship Belt onto a chair and wraps his arms around her waist.

Osbourne Kilminster: Hey… How’re you today?

She looks absolutely delectable with that curvy frame wrapped in black leather and the stripper known as Sinnocence smiles at her lover.  The cuts on her face almost gone, but the cloudiness in her eye hidden by the well-placed bangs.

Sinnocence: Just peachy, Sweetcheeks.  You?

He smiles, leaning in to kiss her lips gently.

Osbourne Kilminster: All the better for seeing you, darling. You should have text me when you were on your way. I’d have met you from the car.

She returns his kiss, but pulls away a little sooner than he would have liked.  Jada raises a thin ebony eyebrow almost in distaste, but continues to smile.

Sinnocence: I’m not a little girl, Ozzy.  I can walk from the parking garage to the locker room all by myself.

He smirks and tilts his head to the side.

Osbourne Kilminster: I know, but with your eye and all… I dunno… I just thought it’d be nice. It’s not such a big thing…

Sinnocence: What you mean, ‘with my eye’?  I can still see just as well as you.  You’re the one who said I have to think positive and stay strong.  Well…having my boyfriend escort me from one place to another isn’t exactly the picture-perfect example of staying strong, ya know?  I’m just saying…

She frowns slightly through the smile and brings and a hand up to hold his cheek.

He steps back from her, his brow furrowing with a frown of his own and his eyes widen with surprise behind those blue lenses.

Osbourne Kilminster: I just thought it’d be nice and maybe wise if I was there to help you because your one eye’s all messed up and because you get strange visitors when I’m not around, you know? I’m just trying to be here for you in the only way I know how, ok?

Stepping further back from her, he shakes his head.

Osbourne Kilminster: You know as well as I do that with your eye like it is, you don’t belong anywhere near a damned ring…

Her jaw drops in slight shock and she shakes her head as well, her face the perfect expression of angry disbelief.

Sinnocence: I don’t belong anywhere near a ring?  How about you?  Running away after WAR to hide in a hole?  Where were you when I was in the goddamned emergency room getting pieces of glass pulled out of my face?

Jada’s lovely lips pull back into a mocking smile.

Sinnocence: You were nowhere to be found!   You ran away like a dog with your tail between your legs!  I am not some simpering little child who needs to be protected all the damn time and I don’t think you realize that.  Just because I can’t see out of one eye doesn’t make me a damned cripple, Osbourne, and certainly not getting strange visitors.  I’ve been in this business a little bit longer than you.  I know how to play the damn game…management says compete against Ainsley again for the Revolution title, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.  I can beat her even if I was blind in both eyes.

For the first time since meeting her, she’s making his blood boil. His jaw clenches with contained rage for a moment.

Osbourne Kilminster: It’s difficult to be there for you when you don’t tell me where you are. I would have been there. I’ll always be there, but only if you quit this stupid bravado thing – pushing me away when anyone can see you need me most. But, you know, whatever. That’s your perogative. I hope you prove me wrong… I really do… but if you want to do this alone, go for it. Don’t let me stop you.

Sinnocence: You know, it wouldn’t kill you to pick up the damn phone and call once in a while.  It isn’t stupid bravado, Ozzy…that’s your thing.  You fucking saw Evers hit me in the face, you knew something was wrong!  You didn’t even bother to ask me if I was all right!  Fucking selfish bastard.  Fine.  Fucking go, every time shit gets too hard you tuck tail and leave, instead of facing it like a man. 

Her pretty face contorts with anger, her words dripping venom.  He’d never seen her this angry…even during the second night of JONNYlution.

Turning away from her, he picks his Iron Fist Championship Belt off the chair he slung it onto and heads out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The reaction is decidedly mixed when AC/DC’s “Back In Black” starts up, signaling the arrival of the SHOOT Project Tag Team Champions. Sure enough, the pair step through the entranceway, in their black suits, the gold wrapped around their waists. They don’t look too excited as they make their way down to the ring, neither one doing too much to rile up the fans. Jared grabs a mic on his way in, tossing one to CJ. CJ steps over the top rope, and Jared slides under the bottom, as the music cuts.

CJ Nelson: At War, we managed to do what we said we would do, and take back the SHOOT Project Tag Team titles.

The crowd reacts strongly, although again it’s mixed: either loud cheers, or loud boos.

Eryk Masters: It seems like a lot of people aren’t too fond of that idea.

Jeff Hansen: Well, yeah, when you make a mockery of the tag team division, how do you expect people to react?

Other Guy: Hey, these guys are the first two-time tag team champions since SHOOT reopened, and since they got the belts at Malice in March, they’ve lost all of once in regular tag team competition. That’s certainly a lot better than your buddies Rogue and Riley can say.

Jeff Hansen: And Super Fan. And LIHC only has those belts because they stole them from the REAL champs.

Jared Walsh: Yeah, we know. We ain’t too fond of the situation, either. Now, as you obviously know, our match didn’t end on a… well, on a final note. There’s still some question as to whether or not we deserve these.

CJ Nelson: So we decided to try and make it right. We want to bring out TRES BIEN right now. Come on down, guys.

As LM.C’s “Bell the Cat” pours through the speakers, the crowd gets up on their feet! Shinya and Maya step through the entrance, in their street clothes (which are still pretty over the top by most people’s standards), Maya wearing a pink beanie hat. They stroll down to the ring, Maya a couple of steps behind Shinya, a little suspicious, but soaking in the praise either way.

Jared Walsh: We’re not gonna hurt you, promise, we wanna resolve this.

Jeff Hansen: Right, like you didn’t hurt them at War when you ripped their dreams away with dirty tactics.

Other Guy: Yeah, that’s not over the top at all, Jeff.

Shinya and Maya slide into the ring, getting microphones of their own. CJ speaks before they can say anything.

CJ Nelson: Look, shit went down at War that we’re not proud of, and honestly, I don’t think that match proved anything. So here’s what we’re gonna do.

Jared Walsh: Next week, LIHC and TRES BIEN go at it once more, these belts on the line, and we’ll see–

Suddenly "Here it Goes Again" by OK Go hits, and the fans turn to the entrance ramp and boo loudly! The tandem of the Flying Avengers, FLASH Dynamite and Kid Lightn ing, step out through the curtains, with microphones in hand. The music quickly fades out as FLASH raises the microphone to his lips.

FLASH Dynamite: Hold it right there, Jared. Are we hearing this right?

Kid Lightning: You guys are going to give TRES BEIN yet another tag team title shot?

The two masked crusaders turn to each other and shake their heads before turning back to the ring.

FLASH Dynamite: Not on our watch, fellas!

Kid Lightning: If anyone deserves to be called champions in this division, its US!

Shinya and Maya turn around, confused, while CJ and Jared look quizzically at each other.

Jared Walsh: Wait… who are you guys again?

CJ Nelson: They look vaguely familiar. Are they friends of yours, Shinya? Maya?

The fans laugh a little, but FLASH Dynamite and Kid Lightning just brush it off.

FLASH Dynamite: That’s real cute guys. Of course we didn’t expect anything less from villainous jerks like you guys.

Kid Lightning: Let’s be honest. You guys didn’t exactly win those titles back in a just manner…kinda like how you guys kept them this whole time.

FLASH Dynamite: And your two vile allies there didn’t take them from you in the cleanest of manners, either.

Kid Lightning: Its like a calvalcade of treachery in that ring right now, disgracing the SHOOT Project World Tag Team Titles that should be OURS right now!

Shinya and Maya look at each other, with a bit of a sad look in their eyes. Maya says something in Japanese, and Shinya looks down at the Avengers.

Shinya: No, you are wrong. We are not villains. We just want to make these fans happy. And CJ and Jared are our friends, and they just want what is best for the fans, too!

Shinya is a little surprised when the reaction isn’t entirely positive.

Jared Walsh: Look, guys, thanks for your opinion, but why don’t you leave the important tag title matters to the teams who have, y’know, actually had a match in the last two months.

CJ Nelson: Go be irrelevant somewhere else.

Kid Lightning looks absolutely aggitated by the remark as he drops his microphone and looks to try to get down to the ring, but FLASH Dynamite quickly grabs Kid Lightning by the arm and pulls him back. The fans cheer at what looks to be a fight ready to happen, before FLASH raises the microphone to his lips.

FLASH Dynamite: Ya know, guys. This whole banter is cute, and all. But unlike you guys, who spent the majority of several weeks attacking us from behind…well, you guys. We’re gonna come down there and put the hurt on you when you can see us!

FLASH Dynamite releases Kid Lightning and the two start marching down to the ring as the fans cheer the altercation on! CJ nelson and Jared Walsh, for their part, look to welcome them on down, as do Shinya and Maya. Half-way down the ramp, however, FLASH puts his arm in front of Kid Lightning and stops him.

FLASH Dynamite: When it counts the most. For the SHOOT Project World Tag Team Titles.

The fans begin to boo loudly as the Flying Avengers grin and turn around and head back up the ramp.

Eryk Masters: Well, it looked like we were going to be getting a tag title match next week, but the Flying Avengers have crashed the party!

Jeff Hansen: Someone’s gotta look out for the innocent, Eryk, because obviously these two villainous teams are only looking out for themselves.

Other Guy: How do you sleep at night, Jeff?

Jeff Hansen: Pretty peacefully, actually.

CJ and Jared shake their heads as they watch the Avengers exit, and Shinya and Maya look unsure of what to do. CJ and Jared slide out of the ring, and TRES BIEN reluctantly follows.

The intro to "Albatross" by Corrosion of Conformity blares over the PA system. Out walks R.W. Randolph, clad in his black Trucker’s Cap with the Infractus Sanctus logo, Aviators, Open Denim Work shirt, blue jeans, and black cowboy boots. He raises his arms to coincide with the riff picking up. This causes a confederate flag to fall on either side of him, which causes a mixed reaction among fans, mostly boos. He then starts walking down the aisle, jaw jacking with fans along the way.

Well I’m feelin’ left behind lord what a waste of time!

They’re coming to get you Run On.

How Can I respect your crime, when all you criminals Whine!

They’ve bought and sold you! Run On! Run On!!!

Randolph gets to ringside, and he glares at the camera that’s in his face. He then rolls into the ring under the bottom rope. He takes off his hat and glasses to reveal hazel eyes and brown hair cut into a military fade. His glasses go into his hat and he pulls off his shirt, to reveal his beer belly and muscular back, shoulders, and arms. He also has two tattoos: Carnage on his upper right arm, and the mirrored R "Fluer" logo on his upper left arm. He tests the ropes and pops his neck, ready to go.

Samantha Coil: The Following Contest is for One Fall…Making his Way to the Wing First, From Diablo Boulevard…The Hardcore Hick, R.W. RANDOLPH!!

You can call me crazy! You can call me wrong! ‘Cause

Cause I was born a Liar! Albatross. Fly On! Flyyyyyyyyyy on!!

Randolph paces the ring a few times, shaking his arms and popping his knuckles, resembling a caged tiger a little bit. 

Other Guy: I must say, I don’t know much about this R.W. Randolph, but I can tell he’s a bit of a redneck.

Jeff Hansen: What gives you that idea genius, The confederate flags?

Randolph’s music is cut off abruptly, replaced with a powerful drum beat.  The beat continues for a few moments as the lights in the cricket arena dim, and then a strobe effect begins to cover the entranceway.  As fuzzed-out guitars begin to accompany the drums, a voice like ancient heartbreak sings out…

Kings, and Sons of God

Travel On their Way, from the Earth

Coming, restless miles…

The crowd’s confusion formats itself into full-bore boos, much louder than they have any right to be, at the sight of Kilgore Stochansky.  He emerges, bathed in strobe light, stretching a little bit and jogging in place.

Samantha Coil: And, His Opponent…From Verona, New Jersey, Weighing in at Two Hundred and Fifty Pounds…KILGORE STOCHANSKY!!

“Strange Times” by the Black Keys continues, and Stochansky steps out of the Strobe and into a lone spotlight, giving us a glimpse towards his outfit: Old-school blue adidas tracksuit with red piping and the “TLFG Enterprises” logo on the back.  R.W. Randolph, for his part, looks unimpressed, and even allows himself a chuckle as Kilgore smiles and waves to people who obviously dislike him.

Other Guy: You’d figure that Kilgore would ‘get’ the fact that no one likes him.

Jeff Hansen: I don’t think that he really cares that such a small group of SHOOT’s viewership doesn’t like him, OG.  It’s all about the majority.

Other Guy: Oh, come on, tha—

Jeff Hansen: the Majority rules!

Kilgore Finally slow-walks it to the edge of the ring, and after discarding his tracksuit and shades to reveal his standard outfit of Trunks that match the suit and kneeboots, he clambers his Six-foot-five frame into the ring.

Strange Times…are here!

Strange Times…are here!

As the Music fades down, and Samantha Coil makes her way out of the ring.  Referee Willie Dean checks to see if both men are ready.  As Kilgore smiles and begins to approach the middle of the ring, we hear the opening bell.  He reaches the middle and offers a hand, looking for a handshake.  Randolph slowly approaches the middle, his face unemotional.  The crowd buzzes as it appears that Kilgore is saying “Come On.”

Other Guy: He can’t seriously be thinking of falling for this, Kilgore’s a snake and he knows it!

Randolph slowly extends and arm and clasps hands with the bigger opponent.  Just as it seems the crowd is about to applaud, Randolph hauls off and punches Kilgore right in the jaw with a left hook, to the cheers of the crowd!

Jeff Hansen: Who’s the snake now, OG?

Eryk Masters: It doesn’t look like RW is showing any signs of relenting!

Stochansky stumbles back, leaning against the ropes, but RW isn’t stopping, pressing forward and unloading on his opponent with lefts and rights.  Kilgore puts a boxing guard up, waiting for an opening, but he’s pinned back against the ropes with nowhere to go.  As the cheers of the crowd intensify, Kilgore finally just bursts forward, shoving Randolph backwards and taking his leg out from under him at the same time.  As RW hits the mat, Stochansky raises his leg high, going for a Vanderlei Silva-sized head stomp—but his opponent rolls out of the way!  Randolph gets to his feet and raises his fists like he’s going to go for another punch, but he turns right into a big overhead chop from the Ukrainian!

Eryk Masters: Ouch!  You could probably hear that impact all the way in the nosebleeds!

Jeff Hansen: And I can see that Randolph might be reconsidering how easy he thought this matchup would be!

RW is walking backwards, gritting his teeth, but he switches it up and tries to rush Kilgore to the ground with a double-leg takedown—and connects!  Randolph transitions into a side guard, working his arm underneath Kilgore’s head and hooking his opponent’s arm in a scarf hold!

Other Guy: Whoa!  Where’d that come from?

Eryk Masters: I’ve heard tell that this Randolph guy actually has a background in catch wrestling, and it showing!  Stochansky has nowhere to go right now!

Randolph continues to wrench the hold, forcing Stochansky to look for other options.  The big man struggles to get some movement towards the ropes, but can’t seem to get mobile enough, as RW keeps twisting and moving with him in an act of prevention.  Kilgore finally gets his free arm underneath the chin of his assailant, forcing his head backwards. 

Other Guy: See, that’s what happens when a loudmouth like Stochansky gets into the ring with someone with actual skill!

Jeff Hansen: Oh!  You may be eating your words, OG!

As Hansen says this, Kilgore utilizes the fact that he’s a lanky six foot five and begins bringing his knee upwards, driving it into the back of Randolph’s head!  The Hardcore Hick doesn’t let go after the first one, but once Kilgore sets himself into a rhythm and delivers three more STIFF Knee strikes to his opponents skull, and gets released!

Jeff Hansen: Stochansky able to get free, some of that craftiness paying off for him!

Eryk Masters: But he doesn’t look to be in such great shape, Jeff!

 Kilgore scrambles to a corner, coughing and breathing heavily, indicating his neck.  As Willie Dean walks over to check and make sure that Stochansky can still compete, Randolph slowly stands up, shaking his head, trying to get his bearings back.  Kilgore nods to Willie that he’s okay and starts moving towards Randolph, his face crossed with that cold fury.  RW, for his part, smirks a little bit and breaks out into a run, looking to decapitate Kilgore with a Lariat—Stochasnky ducks!  Both men hit the brakes and turn to face each other, and end up locking up.  Kilgore begins forcing Randolph into the corner, using his size to his advantage.  Stochansky forces his hand forward, and gets it around Randolph’s neck!  The crowd begins booing as Dean begins yelling at him to break it up.  Dean begins the five count, and at four, Kilgore lets go, then punches RW right in his throat!!

Other Guy: Oh, come on!  Who pissed in Kilgore’s Count Chocula, huh?  Why’s he so mad?

Eryk Masters: Even though it’s a bit of a dirty play, it’s effective, but the big guy doesn’t seem to want to capitalize!

Stochansky has taken this time to get into an argument with Dean, which he stops to showboat to the fans.  They boo him, but he doesn’t seem to notice, waving to them and blowing kisses as he grins.  He notices that Randolph has made it to his feet and his face drops the happy exterior, right back to the enraged mask.  RW has murder in his eyes, and this time he waits for Kilgore to come to him.  As soon as the Ukrainian is five feet away, Randolph EXPLODES out of the corner with a BIG spear, taking Stochansky to the mat!!  The crowd breaks into cheers!

Other Guy: See?!  You might mess up the rooster, but you’ll never take him out!

Eryk Masters: And it looks like we’ve seen this before it’s about time for the ground and pound!

The noise only intensifies as Randolph moves to a mount and begins bringing his fists down on Kilgore’s head, pounding him mercilessly!!  After a few seconds he gets up, leaving a stunned Kilgore to roll about the mat in pain, and climbs to the second turnbuckle.  He leaps off, his knee raised high…and LANDS a Kneedrop right to Kilgore Stochansky’s skull!  Cricket Arena explodes in excitement!!  Randolph hooks the leg and Dean hits the mat…

ONE…

TWO…

TH—Kickout!!

Randolph stands up and yells at Willie dean, who holds up two fingers in his face.  Meanwhile, Stochansky rolls out of the ring, leaving a trail of a few spots of blood;  it appears his nose has been busted, and his top lip shows crimson.  He begins to walk around the outside, shaking his head and talking to himself, cracking his knuckles.  RW moves in a circle in the ring, following Kilgore, and yelling at him, apparently calling him out.  Stochansky stops and motions with his arms, inviting Randolph to the outside!  The Hardcore Hick considers for a moment and then starts to climb out of the ring!

Jeff Hansen: This is a smart, smart move!  By getting him to come to a different environment, he’s hoping to take away any advantage RW Might have!

Randolph hits the floor and begins to approach Kilgore, who begins to back away.  The approach continues, Stochansky begging off, Randolph smiling and continuing a slow pursuit to the increased excited buzz of the crowd.

Eryk Masters: Randolph wants action, but Stochansky wants no part of it!

Other Guy: What is he, a sissy?  He’s damn near running away!

Kilgore continues to back up, and finally runs out of space—he has backed himself up against the ring post, and he continues to beg off, imploring Randolph to go away.  The crowd, noticing that Kilgore has nowhere to go, has begun to cheer, and this only gets louder as the Hardcore Hick allows himself a smile, stopping about 10 feet away from Stochansky.  The Ukrainian appears to close his eyes and begin sobbing, finally gritting his teeth, and bracing for the shot.  Randolph breaks into a run, cocking an elbow back for a big strike—But Kilgore Drops to his Knees, Causing RW to Drive his Elbow RIGHT into the ring post!! The Crowd Erupts into boos as Kilgore stands up and grins, blood coating his front teeth, tapping his temple. 

Jeff Hansen: See, that is why he’s been as successful as he has!  He’s cunning, and for whatever reason people keep falling for the same ten or so tricks!

Randolph is still reeling in pain, and Kilgore capitalizes, grabbing him by his hurt arm and slapping on a simple armlock.  Randolph grits his teeth in pain, and Kilgore knees him in his ribs before throwing him back into the ring, rolling in after him.  RW Tries to get up before Kilgore can do anything, but his head gets a series of stomps from his persistent opponent.  Stochansky grabs the Hardcore Hick by his arms, pulling him to his feet.  Both men lock up, and Kilgore takes Randolph to the mat with a snapping suplex!  The crowds boos intensify as Kilgore takes more control, bringing his opponent to his feet once more, only to take him to the mat with another snapping suplex!!

Eryk Masters: Stochansky showing just how in control he can be once someone has injured themselves!

Other Guy: Look, either Randolph gets his shit together or I’m sending this “all bets are off” message to my sportsbook!

Kilgore is laughing to himself as he hauls a reeling Randolph to his feet once more.  He sidesteps him, draping an arm over his opponent’s chest.  It looks like he’s about to nail his Caput Mortuum slam, but Randolph summons enough strength and gives Stochansky an elbow strike to the side of his head!!  The crowd erupts in cheers, and the Ukrainian steps backwards, before launching forward with a BIG haymaker, that connects!  But Randolph, though he looks entirely dazed, fires right back with a left punch Right into Stochansky’s already busted nose!!

Other Guy: Yeeesh!  This match has already been a slugfest, but that made me cringe a little!  In My Seat!

Stochansky walks backwards, holding his face and screaming.  Randolph stumbles to a corner and shakes his head, trying to get his bearings back after the barrage.  He clutches his right arm, wincing when he tries to move it.  Stochansky finally takes his hand off of his face and starts screaming at Willie Dean, and we can see that his chin is coated with blood and sweat. 

Jeff Hansen: One thing Stochansky has never been good at is capitalizing!

Eryk Masters: He appears to learning, Jeff!

Kilgore shoves Willie out of the way and storms over to the corner where Randolph is, going for a big overhand chop, but he gets blocked!!   RW sneers and boots Kilgore right in the gut!!  Stochansky reels, and Randolph stays on the assault, nailing him with a vicious convict kick right to the bigger opponents chest!!  Stochansky hits the mat hard to the uproarious cheers of the crowd, but The Hardcore Hick isn’t done yet, pulling Kilgore to his feet and whipping him into the ropes…as Kilgore bounds back, Randolph seems to be standing in an odd position, he arm draped over his chest.  As Stochansky approached, we find out why—Randolph Damn Near Makes Kilgore do a flip by taking him down with a HUGE backwards forearm strike!!

Eryk Masters:Sweet Christmas!! Randolph, with the injured arm, may have just knocked Stochansky out cold!!

Other Guy: that was huge!  If he would go for the pin now, he’d probably get it!

Eryk Masters: Randolph appears to have other plans!

Kilgore rolls around on the mat, blinking his eyes, trying to get his bearings.  Randolph shakes his right arm, having obviously aggravated it with the forearm.  He pulls his opponent to his feet, his eyes burning with rage.  There’s a pause, as if Randolph is wondering what to do with his opponent;  he solves this conundrum by simply grabbing Stochansky across the throat with both hands!  The crowd’s excitement is apparent, but they aren’t sure how to react to this blatant maneuver.

Jeff Hansen: See, OG?  How can you cheer for someone if he’s trying so hard to disregard the rules?!

Other Guy: Randolph is using a questionable tactic to yield a positive result!  I’m all for it, I’m behind him on this 100 Percent!

Eryk Masters: Willie Dean isn’t, and he’s letting RW know!

Willie Dean is yelling at Randolph telling him to stop the illegal hold.  With Kilgore’s face getting red, RW finally drops his opponent and starts yelling at Dean, gesturing lividly.

Randolph, fresh off of his Argument with Willie Dean, focuses on the coughing, rising form of Kilgore Stochansky.  He languidly grabs Kilgore by his hair, slowly raising the man up with a sneer of derision on his face.  When Kilgore is in a standing position once more, Randolph gives him a big boot to the gut, And then Lifts him up for what looks like a suplex…

Other Guy: Randolph might be going for the Brain Buster Here, this could be it!

Jeff Hansen: I’m still kinda shocked that he wasn’t DQ’d for that needless, blatant choke!

Other Guy: Hey, you mess with the Infractus…you get the Sanctus!

Randolph has almost got his much taller opponent Vertical, obviously hurting from his injured arm, but just as he does, Kilgore slips out from the suplex and lands behind RW!!  Before he can turn, Kilgore slaps on a Crossface Chickenwing, holding it for a moment, Before snapping backward and damn near dropping Randolph RIGHT on his HEAD!!

Eryk Masters: None! Shall! Pass!!  Kilgore goes for the cover, and I can barely hear myself over these boos!

Jeff Hansen: C’mon Willie, make that count!

ONE…

TWO…

THREE~!!

The Bell rings and “Strange Times” by the Black Keys starts back up, trying to compete with the boos for greater volume.  Kilgore hazily gets to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth and smiling, waving to the crowd weakly as they continue to boo him.  Willie Dean raises his arm, and Samantha Coil grabs a mic…

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Winner, at Eighteen Minutes and Five Seconds…KILGORE STOCHANSKY~!!

The Boos continue as Kilgore walks to a corner and climbs to the middle turnbuckle, raising his arms in victory.  As he’s bathed in flashbulbs and jeers, we cut away…

The camera opens to show Nova Lynn Jackson once more, this time alone. Nova’s hair and makeup are still perfect, as always. She’s strolling down the hallway with a smile, enjoying a vanilla ice cream cone, and generally looking content with life. Suddenly, just as Nova appears to be ready to round a corner, a voice behind her stops her in her tracks.

The fans in attendance begin to boo as Kid Lightning can be seen running the hallway in her direction, pushing past members of the technical staff in the process. Nova turns around at the voice and gives a small jump of excitement.

Nova Lynn: Kid Lightning! Ohmigod! Here, take this, my treat!

Nova hands the ice cream cone off camera, probably to the boom mic operator or something. She turns back to Kid Lightning and runs to him, giving him a tight hug.

Nova Lynn: Eee! I missed you! Even if you didn’t save me and you left me all alone to starve in a basement and almost die!

Kid Lightning welcomes the embrace and offers one of his own.

Kid Lightning: You gotta believe me, Nova. We tried. We just kept being ambushed every time we turned around the corner. I’m just glad you’re okay now.

Nova scrunches up her face, looking at him with a hint of cynicism and paranoia.

Nova Lynn: Are you sure you tried? Or did you just pretend try and now you’re being nice because I totally messed up Jared’s face with one of my high heels and you’re scared of me because I’m scary and stuff?

Nova’s face relaxes almost immediately, nodding her head with a surprising show of instantly-given faith.

Nova Lynn: Oh well! Either way, I’ve got my Jonny now, so I’m happy, so you not saving me was actually a great thing for me because now I’m in love with Jonny and he’s protected me really well!

Kid Lightning smiles softly, though its hard to tell through the mask if its a genuine smile or a forced one.

Kid Lightning: Well, uhh…that’s good. I’m glad you’re good. I’m glad it actually worked out in the end for you.

Nova Lynn: Oh, you’re lying, aren’t you?

Kid Lightning: Not at all. It’s really a good thing that you’re happy. Honest.

Nova Lynn: Well, OK then!

Nova gives him another hug, and pets him on the top of his head.

Nova Lynn: You and Flashy should spend some time with me an’ Jonny an’ Sinnybuns and stuff! It’d be great, I’d love to have more friends around!

Kid Lightning nods his head slowly.

Kid Lightning: Yeah, we’ll totally try to arrange something. Anyway, uhh, I gotta run. I just wanted to make sure you were happy, and you are, and so yeah. I’ll see you around Nova.

Kid Lightning smiles, again a small one that is hard to discern if its forced or not, and turns back the way he came. Nova waves in his direction and blows him a kiss.

Nova Lynn: Bye bye! See you soon! Have a good night!

Eryk Masters: (from ringside) What a bizarre encounter…

“Ladies and Gentlemen” by Saliva suddenly begins to play and the fans live in attendance begin to buzz with curiosity.  As eyes look the entryway the Revolution video screen comes to life to show Edward Raymond set up in an office, and the words in the bottom left corner of the screen read “Live via Satellite from Las Vegas”.  The fans begin to boo loudly and Raymond just continues to sit there.

Eryk Masters: Former wrestling promoter and once head booker here in SHOOT Project, it appears that Ed Raymond is joining us via satellite.

Other Guy: I never liked the guy personally, but he’s brought some interestin’ moments to SHOOT Project over the years.

Jeff Hansen: That’s why they call him a creative genius, OG.

The fans continue to boo and now Raymond lifts a hand as if to try to quiet them down.

Edward Raymond: Please.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Eryk Masters: North Carolina not exactly friendly to Raymond… and really this state has had nothing but bad encounters with the man from both past history in SHOOT Project and from the now defunct OPW.

Raymond waits a moment longer, but then continues, despite the noise still present in the arena.

Edward Raymond: This is something you’ll want to hear, trust me.  Now, as everyone knows there has been quite a lot happening in SHOOT Project. Changes have occurred. We’ve seen new talent take the top spots, and in the New Year, SHOOT Project will have a permanent home in Las Vegas, specifically built for the organization.

The fans pop.

Edward Raymond: And just a few moments ago, another change occurred.  I just finished meeting with Jason Johnson, and the two of us came to a very lucrative business deal.  Ladies and gentlemen, as of this moment, Sky High is now EXCLUSIVE to SHOOT Project!

The mood continues to change for the better as the fans live in attendance cheer loudly.

Other Guy: Hot damn!  SHOOT Project is now the official home and the ONLY home to Sky High. That’s some big news right there.

Jeff Hansen: Easily the best tournament in the business today and Raymond’s keeping it right here.

The crowd settles just a bit, as Raymond keeps talking.

Edward Raymond: Obviously this business venture will give the cruiserweights of SHOOT Project a real chance to showcase what they’re made of, but in keeping with the theme of changes, I didn’t want to stop there.  From day one I’ve wanted Sky High to be the end all be all of wrestling tournaments and so it will be here in SHOOT Project.  The eight week round robin that only a TRUE creative genius like myself could come up with, will no longer be JUST for cruiserweights, and will no longer only be for a chance to claim the Sky High Cup.

We’re opening up the tournament to everything under the banner of professional wrestling and Sky High will be a way to determine the top athletes, deserving champions, and so much more.

Which brings me to a current situation, some controversy that needs to be ended.

Raymond pauses a moment to let his words settle in with the crowd.

Edward Raymond: As of late it appears there is a lot of speculation surrounding who are the TRUE SHOOT Project World Tag Team Champions.  On one hand, Long Island Hardcore possesses a set of titles, and on the other hand Perdition currently has taken a set from Jason Riley and Tom Quinn, who claim that THEY possess the real world tag team championship titles.

Now Jason Johnson has become a very busy man as of late, and he doesn’t have the time to handle every problem, every bit of controversy that rears its ugly head.  That’s where I come in.  If there’s one thing I’m drawn to… it’s controversy… and if there’s one thing I like more than controversy… it’s finding ways to solve it without a shadow of a doubt.

So.  By the power vested in me by Jason Johnson, I am officially taking the “REAL” Tag Team Titles away from Rogue and Riley, but in turn will see to it that Perdition gets handsomely paid for their work…

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The crowd cheers loudly but Raymond isn’t done.

Edward Raymond: And I am officially taking away the Tag Team Titles from Long Island Hardcore.

Other Guy: Say wha!?

Jeff Hansen: you heard him, OG. Raymond’s taking ALL the tag titles tonight.

The mood changes once more and the Charlotte crowd is no longer cheering.

Edward Raymond: Hear me out.  There is too much speculation as to whether or not Long Island Hardcore even have the real SHOOT Project World Tag Team Championship titles, not to mention given the past two matches between Long Island Hardcore and Tres Bien, it’s difficult to determine which team REALLY deserves the titles to begin with.

On top of that, earlier tonight. The Flying Avengers made it clear that they feel THEY deserve the tag team titles.

Raymond starts counting on his fingers.

Edward Raymond: So if you add up all the teams right now that have some sort of involvement in this tangled web, you get five.  Rogue and Riley, Perdition, Long Island Hardcore, The Flying Avengers, and Tres Bien.  Now to me it just doesn’t seem fair for these teams to ruin it for up and coming teams… teams such as Fear and Loathing and the recently signed tandem known as Made for TV.

They weren’t around when all of this controversy started, so why should they suffer?  Heck, why should ANYONE have to suffer through this troublesome situation any longer.

Again he pauses, just for effect.

Edward Raymond: They won’t.  Because as of right now the slate has been wiped clean and over the next eight weeks, EIGHT teams will compete in the first ever Sky High Tag Team Round Robin Tournament!  Then, when all the matches have been fought, when all the points have been totaled, the top two teams will compete for the right to be called the TRUE SHOOT Project Tag Team Champions!!!

The crowd comes alive once more and Raymond leans back in his chair with a smile.

Edward Raymond: See, I told you this would be something you’d want to hear.  Seven teams have been named already, with the final team to be announced tomorrow exclusively at shoot project dot com.  The tournament starts THIS Saturday, November Twenty Second… and will conclude back in Las Vegas, when SHOOT Project returns home for Redemption!

This is an exciting time, people.  Trust me… I know these things.

The video screen cuts out on Raymond’s trademark phrase and the crowd is left buzzing with excitement.

Eryk Masters: What a huge announcement, and it looks like the tag team titles situation is going to be sorted out once and for all.  And I’ve just been informed that once Revolution has come to its conclusion ALL official Sky High tournament information will be available via the Sky High sub site of the official SHOOT Project website. Fans and superstars alike can check it out and remember the final team WILL be announced tomorrow on the site as well.

Other Guy: Oh man this is gonna be big stuff and a hell of a way to showcase the tag team action that only the SHOOT Project can bring.

Jeff Hansen: I was always partial to the good old-fashioned tag team super card, but you know what, this ranks right up there in my books.  Can’t wait to see who ends up with the titles… so long as it’s not Long Island Hardcore.

Eryk Masters: The tournament begins this Saturday and will run every Saturday after that for seven more weeks, ending at Redemption. Quite a time to be a SHOOT Project fan.

Other Guy: No doubt and we still got more on tap here tonight on Revolution, including a North Carolina made main event in Donovan King versus Cade Sydal…. ONE. MORE. TIME!

Jeff Hansen: So, I’m really looking forward to this match up, guys.

Other Guy: Try to keep your pants on, alright Jeff?

Jeff Hansen: Oh, like you won’t be playing pocket pool, hmmm, OTHER Guy?

Other Guy: No, no I won’t.

Eryk Masters: I might.

Jeff and OG: Shut up Eryk.

“Gets Me Through” by Ozzy Osbourne starts to play over the speakers and the arena erupts into a chorus of boos and catcalls as the crazy bitch, Sinnocence, appears from behind the curtain and walk down the ramp. Dressed in her normal black leather and looking none to happy from her earlier talk with her lover, Osbourne Kilminster. Her ebony hair flows freely behind her, save for a strategically cut bang that hangs over her right eye.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, she’s my favorite wrestler.

Other Guy: What about Jonny Johnson?

Jeff Hansen: Okay, SECOND favorite wrestler.

Eryk Masters: Guys, what is that she has in her hand?

In her hand she holds a can of lighter fluid, which she sets down on the corner of the ring as she climbs up onto the apron and enters the ring.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and is for the REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP! In the ring with me now, the former REVOLUTION Champion, SINNOCENCE!!!

Jeff Hansen: Are we in heaven, Eryk, cuz I see an angel.

Other Guy: Will you please stop drooling, Hansen.

Jeff Hansen: I DON’T BELIEVE I WAS TALKING TO YOU, OG! I THOUGHT I WAS TALKING TO ERYK!

Eryk Masters: She is pretty fine, OG.

Sinnocence stands in the ring, staring at the entrance ramp, glaring more specifically, even through her blind eye.

Other Guy: Not so fine with that fucked up eye.

Jeff Hansen: SOME OF US AREN’T AS JUDGEMENTAL AS OTHERS, OTHER GUY!

Eryk Masters: I’d hit it.

Jeff and OG: Shut up Eryk.

As the music fades, to be replaced with the piano intro of "Girl Anachronism," the crowd erupts into cheers! Ainsley Lake steps out, Revolution Title wrapped around her waist, and she stops at the top of the aisle, fists raised!

Samantha Coil: And her opponent, from Wantagh, New York, weighing in at 160 lbs, she is the SHOOT Project Revolution Champion, AINSLEY LAKE!

Ainsley starts down the aisle, taking a little time to slap hands with her fans, before breaking into a full-on sprint toward the ring, hopping onto the apron, and slinging herself over the top rope with a somersault, dropping to a knee with her arms out, soaking in the crowd’s praise. She looks across the ring to Sinnocence, pulling the belt from around her waist.

Ainsley: See this? This is coming home with me tonight.

She hands the belt over to Linam, and stretches her legs on the top rope, while the referee presents the belt.

Other Guy: Haha, atta girl. Ainsley’s looking confident tonight.

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, well, Sinn looks confident and NOT fat.

Other Guy: Ainsley isn’t fat.

Jeff Hansen: And you say Sinn is half blind.

Eryk Masters: I don’t think Ainsley’s fat. Hell, I’d hit that too.

Jeff and OG: SHUT UP Eryk!

Sinnocence merely smirks, pointing to the can of lighter fluid. Ainsley sneers at Sinnocence and walks to the center of the ring. Sinnocence gives Ainsley a cold smile back and also walks to the center. The two meet, nose to nose, the height different clearly being in Sinnocence’s favor.

Jeff Hansen: Look at that fat midget.

Other Guy: She is not fat, and she’s not that small.

Eryk Masters: I thin-

Other Guy: Are you going to say something about wanting to have sex with Ainsley or Sinn?

Eryk Masters: Maybe?

Jeff Hansen: Then don’t talk.

The two simply stand face to face for a moment, intensely staring down at one another. Ainsley mouthes “I’m done with you”, which causes Sinnocence to point to her blind eye. Austin Linam attempts to break the two up, but when becomes clear they won’t move, he signals for the bell.

And both Ainsley and Sinnocence come out swinging fists!

Jeff Hansen: CAT FIGHT!

Other Guy: Really Jeff?

Eryk Masters: Neither one of these two wasting any time at all!

Sinn, being taller, and having more of a striking background, gets the advantage and begins to push Ainsley back. She locks Ainsley into an effective, but sloppy semi-Thai clinch and begins to launch knees at Ainsley’s midsection. After a couple of shots, Ainsley manages to pull herself out of the clinch, but not without taking some pretty damaging shots. Sinn remains incredibly aggressive and throws a right hand, but with the right eye blind, Ainsley manages to dodge and duck under. Sinn is helpless, what with a blind right eye, and Ainsley manages to hook a waist lock. Ainsley rolls back and gets in a victory roll pinning predicament, and Austin Linam is there with the count!

One! KICKOUT! Ainsley however, waists no time. She stays on Sinn’s right side, and when Sinn is on her hands and knees, she leaps over Sinn’s back, hooks one arm over the shoulder, and one between the legs and performs an impressive school boy roll up! Linam counts!

One! Kickout! Sinn is out again, but when she rolls through into a seated position, Ainsley nails Sinn in the chest with a seated dropkick! Ainsley clutches her lower back slightly, still feeling the affects of the Under Siege match up, but she fights through and again goes for the pin!

One!

Tw-kickout!

Eryk Masters: Impressive series of moves there by Ainsley as she attempts to end the match up early.

Other Guy: And she’s smart to be using the blind spot of Sinnocence to her advantage.

Jeff Hansen: Smart? That’s just basic common sense. “Sinn’ll kill me otherwise, so I’ll take advantage of the fact that she’s half FUCKING BLIND!”

Ainsley looks slightly frustrated, but she stays on the aggressive, grabbing Sinn by the head and lifting her up. Ainsley attemps a knee at Sinn’s midsection, but Sinn catches the leg. Sinn stands up straight, holding Ainsley in close to avoid being hit with a sudden kick, and SLAMS Ainsley in the face with a forearm shot, knocking Ainsley down hard!

Jeff Hansen: See, see!! I bet Ozzy showed her that!

Other Guy: A forearm shot? Ozzy had to teach her a forearm?

Jeff Hansen:….shut up OG.

Sinn holds onto Ainsley’s leg. Ainsley attempts to squirm away, but Sinn keeps her grounded with a few leg kicks. With Ainsley’s leg weakened, Sinn attempts to turn her over into a Half Crab, but Ainsley fights it! However, Sinnocence gives Ainsley a quick stomp to the fingers and manages to lock in the Half Crab! Sinn wrenches back HARD, almost as if she is attempting to have Ainsley’s foot touch her head.

Eryk Masters: Sinnocence just bending Ainsley in half right now.

Jeff Hansen: All that flippy shit is cool and all, but this is where Sinn will ALWAYS win. The ground game, baby.

Other Guy: Dude, she’s RIGHT by the ropes. It ain’t over yet.

Sure enough, Ainsley grabs the ropes. Linam tells Sinnocence to let go, but Sinnocence actually pulls back more, causing Ainsley to cry out in pain! Linam begins the count, but Sinn releases at four, mouthing “I didn’t hear you” and smiling.

Other Guy: Oh please.

Jeff Hansen: How can you not trust that face, OG?

As Ainsley claws her way up, only to catch a kick to the stomach from Sinnocence! Sinnocence gets behind Ainsley and wraps her arms around her waist. She lifts Ainsley up and begins to….kiss and suck on Ainsley’s neck?

Other Guy: Not this shit again.

Jeff Hansen: Holy shit, this is hot.

Eryk Masters: It is pretty hot, OG.

Ainsley’s eyes go wide and she FIRES back with an elbow! Sinn eats an elbow with her good eye, but she does not let ago. She looks incredibly pissed as she TOSSES Ainsley back with a German Suplex! Sinn holds on, lifts Ainsley up, and hits ANOTHER German Suplex, this time bridging for the pin!

One!

Tw-KICKOUT!

Sinn holds the waist lock and rolls Ainsley into a seated position. She then switches from a waistlock to a rear naked choke!

Jeff Hansen: IRON MAIDEN!

Eryk Masters: And she’s got it in TIGHT!

The move is smack dab in the center of the ring, and Linam is checking to see if Ainsley taps. However, Ainsley proves she’s got plenty of heart by fighting through. She rolls onto her back, pushing up and crawling her way towards the ropes. Sinn, however, constricts tighter, choking Ainsley more. Ainsley continues to fight, clawing her way to the ropes. However, as the hold gets tighter, and Ainsley gets dizzier, she realizes how far she is from the ropes. With one last bit of strength, Ainsley makes a leap, with Sinn on her back…

AND GETS THE ROPES! However, Sinn doesn’t let go. Linam again administers the five count, and at four, Sinn releases. Sinn is relentless though. She grabs Ainsley by the legs and pulls her back to the middle of the ring before dropping down and going for the Iron Maiden again.

BUT AINSLEY GETS THE CHIN DOWN AND BLOCKS IT! Sinn tries to work in the choke, but Ainsley wiggles out, and is actually able to trip Sinn enough to get out of her clutches. Ainsley scrambles to her feet quickly, but Sinn is right there, throwing punches…but Ainsley catches one! Ains hits an arm drag, hops up, and runs for the ropes! Sinn is up, but Ainsley leaps and hit’s a hurricanarana! She holds for the pin!

One!

Two!

Thr-KICKOUT! Ainsley doesn’t let it get to her. She’s up fast and hit’s the ropes again. Once again, Sinn is up, but Ainsley springboards off the ropes, turns in mid air, and hit’s a BIG cross body! Sinn goes down, and Ainsley hooks the leg for the pin!

One!

Two!

Thr-KICKOUT! Again, Ainsley wastes no time. She hit’s the ropes again. Sinn is back up, again, but is disoriented. Ainsley does a somersault and, using the momentum, leaps up with a BIG Flying Clothesline, knocking Sinn flat! Sinn lies on her back, dazed by the move, and Ainsley, once again, hit’s the ropes. She leaps in the air and hit’s a double foot stomp on Sinn’s stomach. Out of nowhere, while still on top of Sinn, Ainsley flips backwards with a standing moonsault! Ainsley again hooks the leg for the pin!

One!

Two!

Three!

NO! Linam signals a two!

Eryk Masters: Ainsley, out of nowhere, finds her second wind and just UNLOADS on Sinnocence.

Jeff Hansen: And even with all that, she can’t get the job done.

Other Guy: Maybe not now, but after all that, Sinnocence might be almost done. Ainsley is just a few more big moves away from retaining.

Ainsley looks frustrated, but she gets up quickly and picks Sinnocence up by the head. However, Sinn throws a hard elbow to Ainsley’s stomach, doubling her over. Sinnocence launches a MEAN right, knocking the taste out of Ainsley’s mouth. Sinnocence then grabs her and hit’s a Fisherman’s Suplex! Sinnocence bridges for the pin!

One!

Jeff Hansen: It’s over here.

Two!

Other Guy: No it’s not.

Kickout! Sinnocence rolls and lifts back up. She goes for yet another Fisherman, but this time, Ainsley manages to wiggle her legs free! Ainsley counters the suplex by hooking Sinn’s head and falling back, nailing a HARD DDT! Ainsley and Sinnocence roll away from each other, both of them down. Linam administers the count.

One!

Two!

Three!

Four! Sinnocence and Ainsley are using the ropes to get back up.

Five!

Other Guy: Come on Ains.

Six!

Jeff Hansen: Come on Sinn.

Seven! Both girls are now back up. Sinn charges forward and goes for a clothesline with her right arm, but again, her blind right eye betrays her, and Ainsley easily dodges. Ainsley hit’s the ropes, springboards, and when Sinn turns around, she eats a moonsault from Ainsley! Ainsley grabs Sinn’s leg and pins!

One!

Two!

Thr-kickout! Ainsley is up quickly, and Sinn is close behind, but is unable to get to her feet, as Ainsley hit’s a HARD flying knee to Sinnoncence! Sinn goes down hard, and Ainsley again pins!

One!

Two!

Thre-Kickout! Ainsley is up, lighting quick, springboards off the top rope, flips backwards, full rotation, and into a moonsault leg drop across Sinn’s throat! Another pin!

One!

Two!

Three!

NO! ONLY TWO! Sinn got the shoulder up, much to the chagrin of the crowd, who boo heavily!

Jeff Hansen: HA! Sinn won’t be kept down by that fat midget!

Other Guy: Please, please, PLEASE shut up, Jeff.

Eryk Masters: Impressive series of moves there by Ainsley Lake and-oh, looks like Ainsley’s going to the top!

The crowd picks up as Ainsley lifts herself onto the top turnbuckle. She motions for Sinn to get up, which Sinn seems to oblige, slowly making her way up, trying to shake out the cobwebs.

Eryk Masters: Looks like Ainsley is looking for the Higher Side of Low.

Other Guy: She hits it, this is done.

Jeff Hansen: MOVE MY DARLING HALF BLIND ANGEL! MOVE!!

Ainsley keeps waiting, shaking the ropes, clearly excited at the prospect of finishing Sinn. Sinn is now on her feet, but her back is to Ainsley. She slowly turns around, and just as she can turn to see Ainsley, Ainsley leaps!

BUT SINN MOVES!! Sinn catches the arm on the way down,and Ainsley crashes in a heap. Sinn, holding the arm, floats on top of Ainsley’s back.

IRON MAIDEN IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!

Jeff Hansen: YES!

Other Guy: NO!

Eryk Masters: NICE Counter!

Ainsley suddenly comes alive! She gets to her hands and knees quickly, trying to fight off going unconscious! Sinnocence continues to squeeze the life out of Ainsley, but somehow, Ainsley finds the stength to get to her knees!! Ainsley continues to push on, getting on foot on the ground! Sinnocence tightens her grip, and Ainsley falters, but she continues to press on, using every ounce of her strength to stand UP! Ainsley begins to shuffle forward, Sinnocence still holding on tightly, her legs still wrapped around Ainsley’s waist. Ainsley continues shuffling, holding her arms out for the ropes. Inch by inch she presses on, trying to get to the ropes.

Other Guy: Look at the heart being shown by Ainsley right now. She wants that title SO badly.

Jeff Hansen: Too bad she’s not good enough to hold onto it.

Ainsley continues to move forward, but the choking is too much, and Ainsley falls forward, collapsing in a heap.

But her arm is draped over the bottom rope!!

Other Guy: My god, did that girl show a lot of strength and heart right there.

Eryk Masters: But what does she have left, partner? I think she’s completely spent.

Jeff Hansen: HAHAH! FAT MIDGET IS DONE EITHER WAY!

Sinnocence uncharacteristically releases the hold before Linam can count. She stands up, looking down at Ainsley, who seems to be drifting in and out of conciousness at this point from the lack of oxygen and extreme exhaustion. Sinnocence nods, mouthing ‘alright’, before grabbing Ainsley by the leg, pulling her to the center of the ring, and pinning her.

One!

Two!

THREE!!

Austin Linam signals for the bell, and Sinnocence shakily gets to her feet, holding her left arm high.

Samantha Coil: Here is your winner, and NEW Revolution Champion, SINNOCENCE!!

Sinnocence rips the Revolution Title from Austin Linam’s hands and looks down at Ainsley. The crowd boos vehemently, but Sinnocence doesn’t seem to notice. She once again simply nods her head and says ‘alright’ before exiting the ring, grabbing her can of lighter fluid, and walks back to the back.

Jeff Hansen: I told you! Ainsley could not pull this one off! Out classed from the start.

Eryk Masters: I wouldn’t say that. Ainsley Lake may have taken a hard loss here, but I think we all saw a whole lot of heart from Ainsley, and I for one have to say, I’m impressed.

Other Guy: She never gave up. You can say that much. NEVER gave up.

Austin Linam checks on Ainsley, who is conscious now. She sits up and nods that she is okay. The boos die down, and as Ainsley stands up, the turn to applause. Ainsley looks down at the ground, shaking her head in disappointment, clutching her throat. The crowd, however, begins to cheer, and there is a small “AINS-LEY!” AINS-LEY!” chant going in the front rows. Ainsley looks up and nods, mouthing thank you, before exiting the ring. She walks to the back, slowly, clutching her throat.

Other Guy: A classy performance there by Ainsley Lake. She really gave her all in that one.

Jeff Hansen: But it wasn’t enough, now was it. She was the first out in the Under Siege, and now she got made a bitch out of by Sinnocence. God I love it.

Eryk Masters: I think you are hard pressed to call Ainsley Lake a bitch. Sinnocence put on a brutal performance, and tonight, she was the better soldier, but Ainsley Lake has nothing to be ashamed of after that showing. In fact, I have to say, I think my heart pe-

Jeff and OG: Shut up Eryk.

“Wake Up” by Rage Against The Machine, bringing the fans to their feet.  The fans in attendance cheer as out from the back come the Sons of Liberty.  Everyone, sans Dan Stein, wear their SoL t-shirts proudly.

Eryk  Masters:  This is the moment I’m sure the fans at home have been waiting for!

Dan Stein is out first, even though he’s not an official member of the Sons of Liberty.  Behind him walks Nightmare, Danny Evers, Ainsley Lake, Corazon, Donovan King, and Jester Smiles.  Ainsley and Stein slap hands with some of the fans as the faction walks down to the ring.

Samantha Coil:  Ladies and gentlemen…the winners of the Under Siege Match at WAR…The Sons…of…LIBERTY!!

King takes her microphone from her as he enters the ring.  He motions for the music to get cut off as the rest of the team steps into ring.

Donovan King:  First things first…we in the Sons of Liberty need to show some love to Dan Stein for comin’ an’ supportin’ us.  We couldn’t have won without you, man.

The fans pop as Stein waves to the fans.

Donovan King:  Now…at WAR…we managed to end the career of the Real Deal.

There’s a pop, but not a big one.

Donovan King:  Secure the World Heavyweight Championship.

A HUGE pop this time, with Jester patting the face plate of his World title.

Donovan King:  AND secured ourselves the right to select a NEW number one contender!

The fans cheer yet again.

Donovan King:  Even though Redemption names a new number one contender with the Rumble, we’ve earned the right to select Jester’s first opponent.  Now, I know it’s almost a foregone conclusion, but we’ve all decided to come out here tonight and tell you all one by one…who we’re voting for.

King smiles as he hands the microphone to Corazon.

Corazon:  In my time in SHOOT Project, as its prodigal son…  as its brutal and inhuman, I’ve been ready to see this man take his spot at the top.  He’s never been given the chance.  He’s never even had a World title shot or any major title shots aside from one…and that was with our current World Champion.

Corazon smiles.

Corazon:  My vote goes to none other than Donovan King.

The fans cheer loudly as King takes the microphone from Corazon.

Eryk Masters:  We’ve got one vote for King.

Donovan King:  Can’t say as I blame you for dat logic, my man.  But, still.  The whole reason the Sons of Liberty united was because of the injustice you were given as World Champion.  It’s only fair dat we grant you the ability to go back and try again on an even playin’ field.  My vote…goes to Corazon.

Corazon and King shake hands as Ainsley Lake takes the microphone.

Ainsley Lake:  Personally, I’m thinking Corazon.  My second choice would be you, Donovan, but still…the point you made was valid.  My vote is Corazon.

King nods his head, handing the microphone to Nightmare.

Nightmare:  There are many people in this company who we could feasibly say deserve this title shot.  Any one of us in this ring.  With all of that in mind, however, I can’t argue when you say the only reason the Sons of Liberty were even formed was because of the terrible injustice Corazon has to endure as World Champion.  With that in mind, my vote is easily swayed in Corazon’s favor.

The fans are popping as King is looking a little bit perturbed.

Donovan King:  I can respect dat…I mean…he’s had a shot before an’ I haven’t, but hey…it makes sense.  What about you, Stein?

Dan Stein:  Hey, man.  You’re right, you know.  Jonny Johnson screwed Corazon over big time.  He deserves the chance to make that right.

King brushes past Stein, looking his friend Danny Evers in the face.

Danny Evers:  …what do you expect outta me, man?  Adrian deserves this.

King shakes his head.

Donovan King:  Okay, okay, okay.  So we’re all big time in Corazon’s corner, but even so, there’s one vote left dat matters, you know?  Jester…me an’ you, man.  We go back a ways.  What’s your vote?

Jester looks to the fans and then to the Sons of Liberty before he looks at King.

Jester Smiles:  I’m sorry, Donovan.  But my vote goes to Corazon.

The fans ERUPT.

Other Guy:   WOW.  Except for Corazon’s own vote, it was a COMPLETE landslide in Corazon’s favor!!

King paces the ring, looking at the lot of them.  Slowly, he holds his hand out to Corazon.

Donovan King:  Brother, you earned the shot, my man.  Congratulations.

Other Guy:   JESTER SMILES WILL GO UP AGAINST CORAZON FOR THE SHOOT WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!!!

Nightmare, Danny Evers, Dan Stein, Ainsley Lake, and Jester Smiles all congratulate Corazon.  “Wake Up” kicks back in again as King rolls out of the ring.  He doesn’t look back, he just walks to the back and disappears as the Sons of Liberty enjoy their moment in the sun.

Eryk Masters:   We’re gonna see Corazon get the chance to shine once again!  I can’t wait!

Jeff Hansen:   Uh…yeah…but…didn’t any of you notice King?

Other Guy:   He took one for the team, Jeff, it happens!

Jeff Hansen:   Yeah, but…I’m just sayin’…

Other Guy:   Who cares?!  All that matters is the Sons of Liberty stand united one more time and select Adrian Corazon as the NEW number one contender!

The Sons of Liberty leave the ring as Corazon gets his arms raised by Nightmare and Danny Evers.  The lot of them head back to the back.

Backstage…

SHOOT Project interview sensation, DUTCH HARRIS is backstage in one of the many corridors with the oft-maligned trio of TOM QUINN, JASON RILEY, and TIM CALAHAN.  All three of the guys are in their street clothes and appear to be in something of a foul mood.  Harris gets the signal from his camera guy before starting so there’s a little bit of a stall at the top, but he gets into things quickly after that.

Dutch Harris: I am back here with the threesome known as Rogue, Riley and Super Fan, and gentlemen, of course we just heard EDWARD RAYMOND’S blockbuster announcement regarding SKY HIGH and the tag team division, but before we get into that…  Obviously, everyone is wondering about FORMER SHOOT PROJECT WORLD CHAMPION, Jonny Johnson.  Can you update us on his condition and will he be here this evening?

Quinn’s sigh is audible and he shakes his head, while Calahan drops his eyes to the floor.  At the same time, Riley stares at Dutch with a look that scream, “Did you REALLY just ask us that?”  Jason is silent for a moment before smirking and letting out a tiny snicker.

Riley: Really?  (Rubbing his face) You think we’re here to fucking talk about…  Jonny?  Fuck you, Dutch.  Just like “Jonny isn’t our babysitter”, we’re not his goddamned messenger.   Heh.  You want information?  Fine.  (Very blunt) The bone marrow transplant didn’t work out.  Okay?  That gonna be helpful?  The shit failed and he isn’t going to be here tonight.  You fucking happy, now?

Harris is finds himself trapped in an awkward moment of silence.  Riley adjusts his blue and white striped, polo and proceeds.

Riley: That’s not why we wanted to talk, though, Dutch.  We’re here to let Ed Raymond know that he CAN’T JUST STEAL A TEAM’S TAG TITLES!  Who the FUCK is Ed Raymond, anyway?  NO ONE, DUTCH!  FUCKING NO ONE!

Quinn looks to Calahan, who unzips the black duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.  Tim pulls out a pair of TITLE BELTS and hands them to Rogue.

Rogue:  (To Dutch) These, Dutch… are the ULTIMATE REAL Tag Team Championships.  Not the World Tag Titles.  Not the ho-hum, REAL Tag Team Titles…  but the ULTIMATE REAL Tag Team titles.  You get what we’re saying?

Quinn hands one of the belts to Riley, who takes it and slings it over his shoulder.

Riley: The only fucking belts that matter, and Raymond isn’t going to be able to do a GODDAMN THING ABOUT IT!  So you can keep those FAKE titles, Eddie, but we…  and ALL THESE FUCKING FANS know that R and R and SF are the TRUE Champions.   And that’s why we are the ULTIMATE REAL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS.  We will defend these titles TWENTY-FOUR SEVEN…  against anyone at ANY TIME…

Calahan nods.

Super Fan: And that means Sky High too, folks.  We’re gonna show y’all how it’s done.

Rogue: …Not that we HAVE to.

Riley: But because we’re men of fucking PRINCIPLE.

Riley scowls at Harris.

Riley: That’s all we wanted to say.

Quinn pats Riley on the back, and then he, along with Calahan, head out of frame, leaving Dutch all by his lonesome.

The scene fades shortly after that.

Osbourne Kilminster’s face is a picture of rage and frustration as he stomps his way along the tiled corridor, the Iron Fist Championship Belt bouncing on his shoulder with every step. Without looking, he knocks into a man who turns a cormer and bears the brunt of Osbourne’s shoulder. The Englishman stops in his tracks and looks back over his shoulder…

Nightmare: Woah there, champ. You need to chillax before you have a coronary from all that stress.

Turning to face the much taller man, Osbourne resents the physical disparity which means he HAS to look up to Jonathon Wehali.

Osbourne Kilminster: Now is REALLY not a good time for YOU to be telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, Jon boy.

Nightmare: You know what your problem is, why you have all that stress?

Kilminster clears his throat, tilts his head back and shrugs his shoulders.

Osbourne Kilminster: Don’t push it…

Nightmare ignores Osbourne, smirking as he continues-

Nightmare: Jonny Johnson, man. He’s always been putting you in bad situations, like getting between you and your woman. Even if you consider yourself one of Jonny’s Friends, you have to be a friend to have friends. After how he undermined your authority by rebuilding your team for WAR can you say he’s -your- friend? It’s because of his interference that you lost, after all.

Osbourne’s jaw clenches tightly as his eyes burn deep into Wehali’s, even through the blue lenses.

Nightmare: The truth is his only relevance to this company and this sport is through you and your Iron Fist title. If you let him continue influencing you he’ll cost you that as well. Damn that puts you in a bad position. Leave him to save your title and your relationship with Sinnocence but look like a totally heartless sleazeball… or stay with him and lose everything by being his puppet. Either way you’re not going to be in a proper frame of mind to successfully defend that IF belt, giving the advantage to the challenger. Someone like, say, me.

Nightmare smirks with a chuckle. He may respect the man, but the two will never be friends.

Suddenly, the Iron Fist Championship Belt slides from Osbourne’s shoulder and hits the floor as he DRIVES his right fist right into Nightmare’s face! The bigger man is forced to take a step back, as much in shock as from the impact, but he’s ready to get a block up and stop a left hand from the Iron Fist Champion! He grabs Osbourne by the throat and SLAMS him up against the wall, but a right hand over the top COLLIDES with Nightmare’s face, making him release the hold and step back! Kilminster bends to almost double, clutching his neck, his face bright red and his sunglasses falling off, smashing on the floor. Nightmare readies up for an axe-kick, but Kilminster’s instincts kick in and he dives for the bigger man’s legs, taking him down HARD onto the tiles and landing in a mount position! Before he can do anything, Nightmare fires up from his back, ROCKING Osbourne’s chin! Kilminster readies to throw down, but as he pulls his right fist back, someone grabs his arm, yanks him up to his feet and slams him against the wall!

Kilminster recognises the man who broke the fight up instantly as DAN STEIN, who continues to stand between himself and Nightmare with his right palm on Osbourne’s chest to hold him back. Kilminster glares over Dan’s shoulder at Nightmare, who’s getting back to his feet. THOMAS MANCHESTER BLACK turns the same corner that Nightmare did, finding himself stood in the middle of the scene. Looking to Osbourne, who’s picking up his Iron Fist Championship Belt off the floor, he shakes his head before looking to Nightmare and pointing at him to stay back.

Osbourne Kilminster: I’m sick of people like YOU… (pointing to Nightmare) talking like THAT… about ME. Everyone who wants a piece of me is going to get their chance. You mark my words.

He looks into Dan Stein’s eyes for a moment before returning his furious glare to Nightmare, wincing as his neck throbs with pain, his breathing more than a little difficult.

Osbourne Kilminster: Yeah, you’ll all get your chance to take a piece… if only so I… so I can get MY piece… of YOU.

Spitting over Stein’s shoulder, his shot falls just short of Nightmare, but by the time it hits the tiles, he’s already slung his Iron Fist Championship Belt back over his shoulder, turned and walked away. Dan Stein looks around behind him at Nightmare. Thomas Manchester Black is already gone.

Samantha Coil: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a thirty minute time limit, and is the main event of the evening!

The fans begin to cheer loudly. The cheering increases as “Broken Bones” by nonpoint hits!

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, from Southport, North Carolina! Weighing in at 179 pounds! He is the current SHOOT Project Laws of Survival Champion!

Cade Sydal explodes through the curtain, and raises the Laws of Survival Title high above his head!

Samantha Coil: CAAAAAAAAAADE SYYYYYYYYYYYYYDAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!

Cade pumps his free left arm out, waving his hand toward himself, encouraging the cheering fans to get even louder as red and white pyro fires off at the corners of the stage! Cade makes his way down the ramp and slides under the bottom rope, raising the title high above his head once more!

Other Guy: A Hero’s Welcome for one of North Carolina’s own!

Eryk Masters: He’s gotta be riding an emotional high right now after that phenomenal performance at WAR!

Jeff Hansen: He did alright, I guess.

The music slowly fades out, and the lights dim down. A green spotlight starts moving around to the rhythm of “Nothing’s Changed” by Papoose. The fans continue to cheer, though not quite as loudly.

Samantha Coil: And his opponent! Weighing in at 242 pounds! From right here, in Charlotte, North Carolina!

The spotlight stops, center stage, as Donovan King emerges from the curtain.

Samantha Coil: DOOOOOOOOOONOOOOOOOOOOOOOVAAAAAAAAAAAAN KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Donovan King begins making his way down the ramp, the spotlight follows him.

Jeff Hansen: I guess you guys could say this guy had a great night at WAR too, huh?

Other Guy: To hear him talk about it, you’d think it was a sort of empty win though.

Eryk Masters: He’s definitely said it doesn’t feel as satisfying as he thought it would, but be that as it may, there stands the man that retired the Real Deal.

King finally makes it to the end of the ramp and rolls under the bottom rope. The lights come back up, and the music fades. Both men stare hard at each other, and Cade Sydal hands the Laws of Survival Championship over to Samantha Coil for safe-keeping.

Eryk Masters: It should be noted that this match is not for the Laws of Survival Championship. But that won’t stop these men from fighting hard, I’m sure.

As soon as Samantha Coil exits the ring, Tony Lorenzo calls for the bell!

Eryk Masters: And we’re off!

The two begin to circle, and Donovan King stops suddenly. He approaches the middle of the ring and slowly offers his hand to shake.

Other Guy: Looks like we’re gonna go with a show of respect to start this match between these cats tonight.

Cade Sydal looks from side to side, looking out at the fans, before reluctantly accepting the handshake.

Jeff Hansen: Are you kidding me? Ugh…

They both break away from each other and start circling again. Suddenly Cade lunges forward and catches King by his left ankle. He digs his own left foot behind King’s planted right and pushes, toppling King over onto his back! Cade quickly drops and lunges for a side headlock on the canvas, holding King in place in the center of the ring, cranking on the neck!

Eryk Masters: Cade Sydal with the early advantage, taking away Donovan King’s size by taking him to the mat!

Other Guy: Cade is smart, he knows King is prepared for a long match so he’s gonna try to take this one quickly.

Jeff Hansen: This is ridiculous. All I heard about at the start of this year was how these two were trying to murder each other, and here I am…and guys, I’m not seein’ it. Where’s the hate?! Where’s the animalistic attacks? Nowhere to be seen, instead we’ve got a damn headlock…

King grabs Cade under his leg and rolls back to the side, putting Cade on his shoulders!

ONE!

Cade kicks hard and rocks back to the canvas, applying the pressure to King’s neck again. King rolls into Cade, forcing Cade to adjust to his knees to avoid breaking the hold, and with that King pushes Cade up to his feet, getting back to a standing position. King shoves Cade off into the ropes, and snaps up suddenly, planting an elbow in Cade’s chin as he rebounds off the ropes, and Cade spills right through the middle and top rope, all the way to the arena floor!

Eryk Masters: There’s some of that hard-hitting action you wanted, Jeff!

Jeff Hansen: Yeah, but I mean, where’s the punches? Where’s the animosity? Huh?

Other Guy: Will you shut up? Seriously, these two show each other a little respect, and they’re gonna provide plenty of action I’m sure, and you always want some more ridiculous violence.

Jeff Hansen: Look, I know you like both of these guys and that’s fine. I just don’t see it. Not right now.

While the commentary team bickers, Cade Sydal slowly gets back to his feet as Donovan King grabs a hold of the top rope with both hands. Cade turns back to the ring, just as King slingshots over the top rope with a cross body to the floor!

Eryk Masters: Meanwhile guys, Donovan King just took to the air and he connected with a big cross body!

King grabs Cade and quickly slides him back under the ropes and into the ring. King follows him and hooks a leg for an early cover!

ONE!

TWO!

Cade kicks out!

Other Guy: Its gonna take a bit more than that to get a pinfall on either of these two.

Jeff Hansen: Not much more, judging by the closeness of that count.

King pulls Cade to his feet by the wrist. King quickly sends Cade into the far corner, and after a moment, charges in after him! Cade suddenly lifts an elbow up, catching King in his cheek! King stumbles back a bit, and Cade looks to capitalize by rushing in at him! King catches Cade in mid-run though with a sudden powerslam, snapping him to the canvas!

Eryk Masters: Whoa!

ONE!

TWO!

Other Guy: Out of nowhere with the quickness!

Cade shoulders out again!

Jeff Hansen: If Cade keeps getting dropped like that, it looks like he’ll be on the losing end of this battle.

King pulls Cade up by the wrist again, this time he pulls Cade up into a fireman’s carry!

Other Guy: You might actually be right, jeff! King’s going for the KTFO!

Cade drives his elbow into the side of King’s head! His knee comes up into the other side of King’s head, and Cade slips down behind King into an inverted facelock!

Eryk Masters: Nevermind that! Cade’s countered and it looks like he’s going for the Nightcap!

King turns into Cade and rushes forward, driving Cade’s back into the turnbuckles in the nearest corner!

Jeff Hansen: Or they could both fail, and Cade could take some more abuse from Donovan King. Heh.

King drives a pair of forearms into Cade’s face before hoisting him up to be perched on the top turnbuckle. King climbs up to the top as well, but Cade quickly grabs King’s legs and pulls them toward him, forcing King to sit on the top turnbuckle with his back to the ring! Cade forearms King in the side of the head, before forcing King’s left leg between the turnbuckles with his own foot. Cade drives a trio of headbutts into King’s face before shoving him backward, trapping him in a tree of woe!

Other Guy: Were those headbutts violent enough for you, Jeff?!

Eryk Masters: No kidding! Cade Sydal with a sudden resurgence of life there, and it looks like he’s looking to take control!

Cade pushes to a stand and places his right foot on King’s trapped knee! King sits up, reaching for Cade to pry him off, and Cade leaps off, driving both feet into King’s face with a double stomp, and King collapses from the corner! Cade somersaults forward and turns, pulling King over onto his back and hooking the nearest leg!

Jeff Hansen: Well…sure, now the violence levels are picking up…

ONE!

TWO!

TH–!

King gets the outside leg onto the bottom rope, halting the count!

Jeff Hansen: But poor ring positioning, and Cade could have won there, but he didn’t because he didn’t get King away from the ropes.

Cade pulls King up by his arm before snapping his right shin up into King’s chest! King rocks back into the center of the ropes, leaning against them. Cade quickly hits the opposite ropes, possibly looking to send King over the ropes with added momentum, but King ducks at the last moment and sends Cade over the top rope instead! Cade grabs the rope and swings his body to land on the apron, feet first!

Eryk Masters: Amazing awareness from King, and amazing agility to readjust in mid-air from Cade!

Other Guy: These two are going to counter, and counter-counter, each other all night I’m sure.

Jeff Hansen: You would be.

King moves away from the ropes and turns just as Cade springboards to the top and off! Cade snaps off a spinning wheel kick, but King ducks under, avoiding contact, and Cade crashes on the canvas from high up! King quickly scrambles for Cade’s body for a cover, hooking both legs!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–!

Cade kicks out!

Eryk Masters: That high risk maneuver could have spelled the end for Cade Sydal right there!

King rolls Cade over onto his belly and grabs his left arm, feeding it through his legs, King reaches for the head!

Other Guy: But King isn’t gonna stop there, he’s going for the Carolina Crossface!

Cade rolls toward King, but King holds on and rolls Cade back to his belly, maintaining control of the arm! But that’s enough, as Cade is close to the ropes and manages to squirm his body under the bottom rope, and Tony Lorenzo forces the break!

Jeff Hansen: I think Cade Sydal for scared there, guys.

King pulls Cade back under the ropes to his feet and sends him off the ropes. King catches Cade on the rebound under his legs, looking for a spinebuster! But the moment King pulls Cade up, Cade begins to drive hard forearms into the side of King’s face as he turns! King releases Cade about a quarter of the way around the ring, but Cade runs up King immediately with a standing Shining Wizard knee to the face, riding King to the canvas!

Eryk Masters: And just like that, Cade is back in the game!

Cade pulls King up by the arm and twists under before whipping King off the ropes! King reverses the whip and ducks down for a back body drop! Cade turns and places his back to king’s, backflipping out of the back body drop attempt! King turns around, and Cade catches him under the arm with his head and snaps back with a bridging Northern lights Suplex! But he rolls all the way backward and captrues King’s arm, clutching for a Kimura Armbar!

Other Guy: And now its Cade’s turn to go for the quick and sudden kill, with the Kimura Armbar!

King turns sideways, toppling Cade over, and pushes to his feet, but Cade still has a hold of the arm and gets to his feet with King! King quickly drops into a drop toe hold, driving Cade down to the canvas, releasing the hold attempt. Both of them scramble to their feet, and King is a little quicker, catching Cade with a forearm to the side of the head! Cade stumbles backward, and King quickly hits the ropes to the side. Cade turns toward King, and King leaps and drives his right boot into Cade’s head!

Jeff Hanesn: I believe that’s the Penalty Kick King just hit there, and that I’ll admit was impressive!

King quickly hooks both legs for the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–!

Cade rolls a shoulder off the canvas!

Other Guy: The resilience of Cade Sydal is unparalleled, and it shows tonight. He’s taken a tremendous amount of high impact moves, and he keeps getting up for more!

King quickly pulls Cade up into a front facelock and snaps him up, before turning him and driving him down with a Falcon Arrow! King grabs Cade’s leg, stacking him for another pin attempt!

Eryk Masters: There’s a move we don’t see from King all that much, and the surprise could be enough to keep Cade down right here!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE–!

Cade kicks out again!

Jeff Hansen: King is throwing a lot at Sydal right now, but Sydal might be too tough for King to crack tonight. Who knows.

Cade turns over to his belly, as King stands up. King grabs Cade by the ankles and pulls him backward into a wheelbarrow position, before steadying himself. King snaps Cade upward, and Cade pushes on King’s wrists, making it up onto King’s shoulders! Cade snaps backward with a sudden reverse hurricanrana that sends King backflipping onto the top of his head and bouncing under the ropes to the outside!

Other Guy: And Cade Sydal answers in a big way! Does he have the energy to capitalize though?

Eryk Masters: Or has that onslaught from King drained him of all of it?!

Tony Lorenzo leans over the ropes, while Cade lies on the canvas, and begins making the count as King lies motionless on the floor outside.

ONE!

TWO!

King pushes up to a knee, clutching his neck.

THREE!

Jeff Hansen: How anti-climactic would this be? A count out…damn.

FOUR!

Cade pushes up to his feet and stumbles back to the ropes opposite of King.

FIVE!

SIX!

Cade rushes as King rises to a full stand! Cade dives through the bottom and middle rope just as King turns toward him! Cade catches King around the neck with a facelock out of the suicide dive, and spins through with a sudden tornado DDT on the floor!

Other Guy: Holy shit!

The fans appear to echo the sentiment, as they begin a chant of their own.

HO-LEE SHIT! HO-LEE SHIT! HO-LEE SHIT!

Cade pushes up to his feet, as Tony Lorenzo starts yelling at him to get it back in the ring! Cade turns and grabs King by the wrist, trying to pull him to his feet.

Eryk Masters: What would you even call that, guys? Was it a suicide dive? A tornado DDT? Both?!

Jeff Hnsen: Who cares guys? Seriously, it wasn’t THAT impressive.

Cade finally gets King to his feet and rolls him under the bottom rope. King rolls awkwardly a little more, and Cade hops onto the apron and slowly ascends to the top rope! Cade leaps off the top rope, turning backward as if going for a Shooting Star Press, but goes all the way around to land with his back on King’s chest!

Eryk Masters: 469 2k9 connects! That has got to be it!

Cade turns and quickly hooks both legs!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! NO! King shoulders out!

Other Guy: Holy shit guys, how the fuck did Donovan King kick out of that?

Jeff Hansen: I’m pretty sure if you watch the replay, you’ll see…that he kicked out by getting a shoulder up. Duh.

Cade rolls to his chest and slowly pushes up to his feet. He clearly can’t believe it, as he bends and grabs King’s wrist, pulling him to his feet. Cade snaps a sudden kick up into King’s chest with his left shin, staggering King. A second kick, this time with the right shin, sends King into the center of the ring, on wobbly legs. Cade hits the ropes and rushes King! Cade swings up King’s body with some flying head scissors! But King holds King by the waist, and spins him back before sitting out with a sudden sit-out tombstone piledriver!

Eryk Masters: Brilliant counter from Donovan King and this has got to be it!

King collapses onto Cade with a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE–!

Cade kicks out!

Jeff Hansen: I’m not surprised he kicked out. It was kinda a weak move and a weak cover…

Other Guy: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

While Other Guy demonstrates his disbelief in Jeff Hansen’s words, King rolls to the side in his own disbelief. He grabs Cade by the arm and pulls him to his feet, before shoving his arm between his legs. King hooks under Cade’s free arm with his own free arm and snaps back with a pumphandle suplex, bridging to make it a tabletop!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–!

Cade kicks out, and King rolls over with Cade and shoves Cade’s arm between his leg, looking again for the Carolina Crossface!

Eryk Masters: A very impressive suplex, and when the pin failed King got right into his Carolina Crossface again and if he can lock it on, I don’t see how Cade can survive it at this point!

Jeff Hansen: He’d survive it if he wasn’t a pussy.

Other Guy: Seriously, Jeff. What the fuck is your problem?!

Jeff Hansen: Look, OG. I’m just sayin’, the moves he’s taken haven’t been that damaging. None of them have really done much damage to the other, honestly.

Other Guy: Are you fucking blind?!

As the two resume their bickering, Cade continues to struggle to avoid getting his head caught in the submission attempt, and finally rolls forward to escape! King scrambles to his feet as Cade turns and rushes at him! King catches Cade under his legs and turns, snapping Cade down with his turning spinebuster!

Eryk Masters: Big time impact with that spinebuster, and this could be it!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–!

Cade kicks out again! King pulls Cade up by the arm and whips him off the ropes! Cade spins under the arm to reverse the whip and pulls King into an upraised elbow to the chin! King lets go of Cade’s arm and Cade leaps up into the air, spinning his body horizontally to drive his shin into King’s face with a cyclone kick!

Other Guy: Cade connects with a big-time cyclone kick!

Jeff Hansen: See…he’s fine…

Cade hooks King’s leg for a cover!

ONE!

TWO!

TH–!

King kicks out! Cade gets to his feet and pulls King up right into an inverted facelock!

Eryk Masters: He could be going for the Nightcap again!

Cade snaps under, but King shoots up to reverse the momentum, catching Cade with a waistlock! King snaps back with a sudden release German Suplex! Cade back flips through though, landing on his feet! King scrambles to his feet and turns, and Cade leaps up with a NINJAGUIRI! King ducks!

Other Guy: That woulda have been it for sure!

King turns Cade around into a fireman’s carry and quickly snaps him off, nailing the KTFO!

Jeff Hansen: There we go! Finally someone hit their big move…

King turns Cade over to his back quickly and hooks both legs!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! Cade gets a shoulder up!

Eryk Masters: How did he kick out?! Both of these men have kicked out of one of the other’s finishing maneuvers thus far!

Other Guy: I don’t think Donovan King can believe it either!

King looks up at Tony Lorenzo, who reassures him that it was only a two. King shakes his head slowly and pulls Cade to his feet by the arm, before snapping a chop into Cade’s chest. The chop rocks Cade back, and a second rocks Cade into a corner. A third chop, and fourth behind it, slouch Cade down in the corner a little. A hard pair of kicks to the chest drives Cade to a seated position in the corner, and King rushes to hit the adjacent ropes!

Jeff Hansen: Now this could spell trouble for Sydal…

Cade pulls himself up out of the corner as King comes charging back, and nails King with a jumping calf kick, Dean Malenko-style, and both men are down! Both men slowly push to their knees, and the bell suddenly sounds from ringside! Tony Lorenzo looks over, confused, as Cade collapses back down to his chest.

Eryk Masters: Wait, what?!

Other Guy: Why did the bell ring…?

Samantha Coil confers with Mark Kendrick, before relaying everything to Tony Lorenzo. After a brief moment of confusion from the fans in attendance, as King and Cade slowly push themselves to their feet, Tony Lorenzo nods his head and Samantha Coil raises the microphone to her lips.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the match has been declared a draw due to time limit!

The fans begin to boo restlessly at the decision, before Cade holds his hands up. On wobbly legs, he turns to Donovan King and slowly extends his hand.

Jeff Hansen: Oh come on…don’t end this shit on a handshake too. Fuck…

Donovan King slowly reaches his own hand out and accepts the handshake. Cade whispers something to King, and King looks at him a bit confused before finally shrugging and nodding his head. Cade nods his head and can clearly be seen mouthing the words “thank you” before Donovan King backs up and steps out of the ring, and Cade Sydal asks for the microphone.

Cade Sydal: Thank you, Donovan King. For the good match. I know it didn’t end how any of us wanted it to. Donovan didn’t wanna be out here when I did this, but he did tell me it was cool. So…Instant Heat! I know you guys are back there, come on and get your asses out here!

Cade backs into a corner, using the ropes to hold himself up. Suddenly “Shoot Outs" hits and the fans begin to react a little mixed, with mostly cheers.

Other Guy: I don’t know if its wise for Cade t be callin’ these two guys out here if he’s lookin’ for a fight tonight.

Jeff Hansen: He does look pretty beat up.

OutKast and The Real Deal, both in casual dress clothes, step through the curtain and start their way down to the ring, a little confused. The loyal Carolina fans warm up to the duo as Cade Sydal slowly claps his hands, the fans do the same.

Cade Sydal: C’mon guys, give these guys a fucking hand! Some Carolina legends in this motherfucker!

The famous tandem finally make it to the ring, waving out to the fans. They slowly climb into the ring and Cade Sydal continues to clap for them as the music fades.

Cade Sydal: This is nice, isn’t it guys?

The two nod, and Cade smiles.

Cade Sydal: Good. Because I have a feeling next week is gonna be a little nicer.

OutKast quirks an eyebrow up at Cade in confusion as Cade returns the look with a grin.

Cade Sydal: Next week is Revolution 50. Next week is a milestone in this great company, a company you two have helped raise from the ground up. I’ve already asked Donovan King there, right before he left, and he’s cool with this proposal…I want the tag team match that never got to take place.

Cade pauses, as OutKast and Real Deal look at each other and shrug with a nod.

Cade Sydal: I’m talkin’ about Instant Heat reunites for one night, for one last dance, fellas! Against another one-night-only reunion! I’m talkin’ about Instant Fucking Heat taking on D & C!

The fans cheer loudly at the challenge and Cade Sydal nods his head.

Eryk Masters: If Instant Heat accepts the challenge, this could be huge!

OutKast beckons for a mic, and Cade tosses him his. OutKast looks at Real Deal and the two seem to share a moment, before OutKast turns to Cade Sydal.

OutKast: You’ve got yourself a match.

OutKast drops the microphone, and the fans cheer loudly!

Other Guy: Revolution 50! Next week! Instant Heat versus D&C has just been added!

The cameras stay on INSTANT HEAT and Cade Sydal. All four men stare ahead at each other, nodding.

BRIEF STATIC.

The picture goes fuzzy, but comes back in focus. It’s the same shot. OutKast pats Real Deal on the back and the duo begins to make their departure.

STATIC.

Cade and Dutch follow suit and…

STATIC.

…follow…

STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATIC.

You can sort of hear Jeff, Eryk, and OG in the background.

Jeff Hansen: We’re…

Other Guy: What…. …ell… on

Eryk Masters: Fol…

Everything goes to black.

“I’m… uhh… I’m ready.”

The scene reopens inside a dark room.

A soft spotlight shines down on a lonely stool. …Occupied by FORMER SHOOT PROJECT WORLD CHAMPION, JONNY JOHNSON. The DEFILER stares straight ahead, his eyes cold and static. He looks a little bit different than the last time anyone saw him. His face is covered in a thick beard where it was formerly scruff, and his hair is a longer than it was, and a little less… blonde.

He seems comfortable, though, which is perhaps the most frightful aspect of the scene, and sits in silence for another couple of moments.

The DEFILER: (Sniffing and rubbing at his nose) So… uhh… how was the show tonight? or maybe… How… IS the show? Heh. Has Eric been out yet for his inevitable celebration? Hmm? Did you all cheer and throw… what? Bras? Money? Drop confetti? How loud WERE you when he gave his powerful speech? Really loud? (Pausing, smiling to himself) Have those… lovable Sons of Liberty named their new number one contender? Was there dissension amongst the ranks? Or did they come to a unanimous agreement? How WAS Revolution Forty-Nine?

He shrugs.

The DEFILER: I’d imagine it’s been filled with balloons and hope and shining lights. A… gay old romp, huh? (Smirking) That’s… perfect. You guys earned it. All of you. You earned the right to be happy for an evening. A pizza party. You earned the clowns and the pony.

He trails off for a second and looks down to the ground.

The DEFILER: Congrats…

Jonny massages his temples and runs his hands through his unruly hair.

The DEFILER: (Eyes still at the ground) But ummm… (Looking up) It can’t last. You guys know that right? I mean, you HAD to. I said I wasn’t gonna disappear. I said that. I told Eric, man… I told him, “This won’t be over regardless of the outcome.” (Pausing) Now, I know there was that pesky… news blurb, and trust me, I was as shocked as anyone…

But to use a cliche…

“The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

His sickening smile creeps back across his lips and he proceeds.

The DEFILER: I’m not in North Carolina tonight because… frankly, I don’t want to be. I don’t want to look at your faces. I don’t want to answer your questions. I don’t want to LISTEN to the rhetoric and the stories and misconceptions. I don’t feel like watching Eric tell the world how he conquered my ideology and I don’t want to be anywhere NEAR those select individuals who have already begun to turn their backs on me.


 But my… tragic illness…? It has nothing to do with my lack of participation.

He remains calm.

The DEFILER: I’m not retiring. Quite the opposite.

He sniffs again.

The DEFILER: I’m still the golden Son of this organization, and I will ALWAYS have friends in the right places. ALWAYS. And these Friends don’t like the idea of an Eric Rohkar reign. They don’t see Jester Smiles being able to do HALF of the business that I do, and they are CERTAIN that he can only drag this company back into the mud that guys like Jun Kenshin and Roland Caldwell originally put them in.

So they have awarded me my rematch.

And they have given me carte blanche to have it WHENEVER… and under ANY CONDITIONS THAT I CHOSE.

Jonny stares directly into the camera, not wanting anyone to miss a word.

The DEFILER: I’ve chosen sooner over later. Next week, to be exact. The MAIN EVENT for Revolution Fifty. It’s short notice, Eric… and I’m sorry that the media won’t have time to spin up another epic story for you to snort in like cocaine, but.. but I’m not in the mood to play games. I’m not in the business to make you look any better than I’ve already seemingly made you look. JESTER SMILES will NOT become a torch bearer at my FUCKING EXPENSE.

So you’ll have a week to prepare for what will undoubtedly be the GREATEST LET DOWN OF YOUR ENTIRE CAREER. Because if things work out the way I’ve… planned…

You can’t possibly win.

Next week… I’ve come up with something… fun for us to do. A uhh… a new concept… sort of. Well, it’s new for us.

Jester Smiles defends his SHOOT PROJECT WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP against “The DEFILER” Jonny Johnson…

In a bout that I am calling… “THE ELEVENTH HOUR”

He pauses again to let everything sink in.

The DEFILER: Everything goes, Eric. EVERYTHING. And there are no pin falls, no submissions… No count outs or disqualifications. There are NO FUCKING RULES, my man. (Smiling now) And the only way you can lose… that either of us can lose… Or… or win for that matter…

Is for someone to quite literally… throw in the towel for us.

Pause.

The DEFILER: See, I thought it would be… interesting to see what happens when you put the HERO’S fate into the hands of the very lives he’s saved and protected.

Awesome, huh?

Yeah. I know. I’m a genius like that.

And, see, that’s where it becomes soooo fucking perfect. Because as long as your plebeians can keep their emotions in check… you can’t lose the belt, Eric. Granted, I can fucking kill you, but you’d DIE THE SHOOT PROJECT WORLD CHAMP, man.

Of course they could just as easily fuck you over, in which case you would LOSE the World Title AND realize just how dark and lost these lives really are. But… I’d suggest focusing in on the… more uplifting scenarios if I were you.

He stops a moment and sighs.

The DEFILER: You DID win, Eric, and I hate to rain on your parade, but… you were warned man. I told you this wasn’t going to be a fairy tale. That… there would be a… TOMORROW for you to face.

Tomorrow is here, man.

And you’re going to realize that NO ONE escapes the DEFILER…

And that above all things…

Hope…

Is illusion.

He sits back in his stool and the cameras focus on his face.

Cruel.

Silent.

The DEFILER: I’m sorry if I fucked up the show. Try to forget this even happened…

Cut.