Revolution 74 – 4/18/2011

Samantha Coil: Tonight’s opening contest is scheduled for one fall with a 10 minute time limit! 

"Had Enough" by Breaking Benjamin blairs through the speakers, and the fans rise to their feet as Mike Dexter steps out from the back.  He races down to the ring, slapping hands with a few fans along the way before rolling underneath the bottom rope. 

Samantha Coil: Currently in the ring, from Atlanta, Georgie, weighing in at 223 lbs.  Here is "THE DEXECUTIONER" MIKE DEXTER! 

Breaking Benjamin is interrupted by Black Label Society’s “Devil’s Dime”… 

Samantha Coil: And his opponent….. 

Red pyro explodes as Cronos Diamante steps out to a chorus of jeers from the crowd.  He is clad in black urban fatigues, accompanied by black combat boots.  On the right boot are 3 crosses placed into the heel.  

Samantha Coil: From The Bronx, New York City…..weighing in at 290 lbs.  Here is CRONOS DIAMANTE! 

Cronos reaches the ring, but does not go towards the stairs, he leaps from the ground up, studying his knee on the apron, and rolls into the ring. 

Dex and Cronos get into one another’s face, as Samantha Coil exits and signals for Mark Kendrick to ring the bell. 

Eryk Masters: A lot of jaw-jacking going on before this one gets started. 

DING, DING! 

The two men continue talking trash for a minute, until Cronos turns his back and flips his arm into the air, as if to say Dexter isn’t worth his time.  Dexter leaps into action, spinning Cronos around and immediately taking it to Cronos with a series of snapping right hands.  Cronos reels back a little, but Dex grabs his arm and pulls him in, nailing him with a short arm roundhouse kick! 

Eryk Masters: Solid combination to open things up here from The Dexecutioner. 

Other Guy:I bet he really thought long and hard about that nickname. 

Cronos quickly gets back to his feet, but Mike Dexter continues the onslaught with another series of snapping right hands.  Cronos again backs away, but Dex follows him and goes for the European Uppercut, but Cronos dodges, and hooks Dex’s arm, bringing his other arm around… 

Eryk Masters:Kata-hajime!  Cronos going for the early submission here, a beautiful counter to stifle Dexter’s momentum. 

Other Guy: Cronos is a bad dude, Eryk.  He’ll make Dex tap in no time! 

Dexter is flailing his arms about, desperately trying to reach the ropes, as Cronos applies more pressure, cutting off his air supply.  Slowly, Dex’s hands begin to drop to his sides, his posture growing weaker, almost going limp in Diamante’s arms. 

Other Guy: I told you, Eryk, the fight’s already gone out of Dex. 

Eryk Masters: You may have spoken too soon! 

The referee checks Dex’s arm, it falls once.  It falls twice.  The crowd trying to rally behind Dexter, and the third time….Dex keeps his arm up.  He begins shaking his fist, and the crowd is stomping their feet as they try to give their energy to the Dexecutioner…. 

But Cronos quickly puts an end to the rally by turning the hold into a suplex and driving Dex into the mat! 

Eryk Masters: What a devastating maneuver by Diamante.  The fans were starting to get into it, and Cronos took them right out of the fight.  

Other Guy: Cronos is a seasoned veteran, he knows better than to allow the fans to become a factor in the match. 

Cronos stands over the fallen Dexter, shaking his head in disgust as he looks down at his opponent.  Then, he begins stomping away at Dexter.  He starts at his feet, then works over to his knees, then his torso and elbows, and finally he reels back and nails a violent kick to the side of Dexter’s head! 

Eryk Masters: My god!  Is Dexter even conscious after that? 

Dexter is indeed still conscious as he rolls over onto his stomach.  He’s dazed though, and is looking for the ropes to help him to his feet. 

Other Guy: Dexter’s in bad shape, Eryk.  I think Diamante might be moving in for the kill, here. 

Cronos helps Dexter the rest of the way to his feet, and slaps him across the face a few times, making his disrespect plain. He rears back and kicks him again. HARD. Dexter slumps over, Cronos pulls him into the middle of the ring, and makes the cover.

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

Samantha Coil calls for the bell, and steps into the ring holding a microphone…

Samantha Coil: Your winner, by way of pinfall… CRONOS DIAMANTE!!!

Other Guy: That was unexpected.

Eryk Masters: Indeed it was. Hopefully, Dexter can get it together and come back strong, if he comes back at all…

Other Guy: Well, Cronos looks happy nonetheless!

"Devil’s Dime" hits the PA as Cronos exits the ring, shaking his head in obvious disgust at Mike Dexter, who’s just now coming to. We cut to the back…

The scene fades into the back. We see Alex Cruz in jeans and a yellow “Event Staff” t-shirt sipping on a cup of coffee in the green room. He turns around and almost bumps into someone, which causes him to leap back, spilling coffee all over himself. 

Alex Cruz: OUCH OUCH FUCKING OUCH! 

Alex Cruz frantically wipes off hot coffee from himself. We see Dina Bryce, the person he almost ran into, looking a touch embarrassed, and also trying to stifle a laugh.  

She grabs a couple napkins and tries to help him mop up as best she can. 

Dina Bryce: You okay mate? Didn’t mean to spill yer drink … it’s Cruz, right? 

Alex takes the napkins and wipes himself off, grinning. He puts his cup down and surveys his shirt. 

Alex Cruz: S’all good. It was free after all. SHOOT Project provides all you can drink coffee for SHOOT Project stars and the likes! 

Alex Cruz looks directly into a camera and shoots a big thumbs up. He grins, turning his attention back to Dina Bryce.

 

Alex Cruz: Yeah, I’m Cruz. Alex Cruz. And you are…Tanya Black? No, no, that’s not right. You are…Laura Seton…no, no, that’s not right. OH! OH OH OH! Samantha Coil! Right!? You are Samantha Coil! 

Alex grins, making it clear he knows who Dina is, but he’s having a bit of fun. 

Dina, for her part, smiles and plays along.

Dina Bryce: What, ya don’t recognise Ainsley Lake just ’cause I dyed me hair dark? 

She tosses away the damp napkins, wipes her hand on her jeans then extends it to Alex. 

 

Dina Bryce: "Daredevil" Dina Bryce. Caught your match against Seton… tough beat, mate. She’s on a tear right now. 

Alex extends his hand and shakes Dina Bryce’s.  

Alex Cruz: Eh, I let her win. I mean, if I were to beat her, my wife would have given me shit about it for months. Hell, though, I lost to someone who became a champion in their next match, so, I mean, maybe beating me is good luck or something, eh? So, when do we get to see the redebut of the Daredevily one? 

Dina makes a face.

Dina Bryce: When the brass gets sick of having me as a booth babe an’ wants to see some amazing cruiser action again. You know they’ve got me sellin’ t-shirts here?!

She grabs herself a Red Bull from the drinks fridge and downs half of it in one hit.

Dina Bryce: Best of luck against Mephisto this week. Dude’s creepy, don’t let him get in your head, yeah? 

Alex shrugs it off. 

Alex Cruz: I’m not too worried about it. Anyone who has the term ‘fisto’ in their name doesn’t make me think of a vicious beating. It makes me think of…we won’t go into what it makes me think of. Say, you know, I’ve been having a hard time making friends around this place, and by the looks of some of the psychos we have around here, it might not hurt to have someone. What say if you have my back, I’ll have yours? 

Dina grins. 

Dina Bryce: Deal! There’s some scary bastards around these parts. Gettin’ a few people onside sounds like a smart move, ‘specially with Entragian an’ his crew prowling around. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone else who I reckon could use a friend… 

Alex grin grows even wider. 

Alex Cruz: Sounds like an excellent plan new best bud! 

The scene fades out as Alex Cruz and Dina Bryce exchange a fist bump.

(The scene is along the shore-lines of Huntington Beach, California where we get a view of a man with brown hair sitting Indian-style on a mat on the beach with an open short-sleeve white button-up shirt blowing in the breeze and a pair of plaid cargo shorts and sandals with a silver cross necklace around his neck with his head bowed reading a Bible as “Hero” by Skillet begins to play in the background as the camera keeps circling the man, we hear the lyrics in the background and we cut to footage of the man surfing on the Huntington Beach shore-line.) 

I’m just a step away.

I’m just a breath away.

Losing my faith today.

(Falling off the edge today.) 

(The scene then transitions to a clip of Justin Moreno doing a moonsault off of scaffolding in LEGACY to Derek Shane.) 

I am just a man.

Not superhuman.

(I’m not superhuman.)

Someone save me from the hate. 

(We now cut to Moreno doing a matrix evasion of an Isaac Entragian clothesline, followed by a kip-up and a Pele Kick.) 

It’s just another war.

Just another family torn.

(Falling from my faith today.) 

(Flash forward to Moreno transitioning from a Hammerlock into a stiff clothesline to Laura Seton.) 

Just a step from the edge

Just another day in the world we live. 

(The next clip goes to Moreno performing a Nac-Nac on his dirt-bike on a motocross course.) 

I need a hero to save me now.

I need a hero

(Save me now) 

(We now go to Moreno kneeling on a street corner in the pouring rain with his eyes sky-ward, looking up to the heavens with lightning flashing around him.) 

I need a hero to save my life

A hero’ll save me

(Just in time) 

(The next clip is of Moreno performing a back handspring into a corkscrew forearm smash to an unidentified opponent in LEGACY. The last shot goes back to Moreno, who looks up at the camera with a confident smile as the song flashes forward to the last line.) 

A hero’s  gonna save me just in time. 

(The final banner on the screen shows the familiar green Monster Energy Drink “M” logo with “Moreno” written in the Monster Energy Drink font and “Coming Soon” written in a ransom paste font as the scene fades out.)

The cameras open to the parking lot and a figure getting out of a Black GTO. The figure is none other than Thomas Manchester Black. TMB is wearing black dress pants and a white button up shirt. Black grabs the duffle bag out the back seat of his car and turns towards the camera 

TMB: I know what you are going to ask me 

He hits the car alarm for his ride after closing the door. 

TMB: You are going to ask me why? 

TMB stares in to the camera for a moment. 

TMB: why didn’t I continue after all this time I’ve spent hunting King 

TMB: After all I have gone through, I don’t owe anyone jack shit…but I will explain. I’ve seen guys go too far for revenge and end up becoming worse than the men that they were after. I saw that happening to myself during the match. And more importantly then that, the man I saw in the middle of that ring, isn’t the same man I was hunting. I didn’t see the betrayer that has been running for so long. 

Black lets out a small sigh. 

TMB: I saw a man that was willing to take everything that he had coming to him. King took everything that I had to offer. He didn’t try to run, he didn’t try to side step me. Even when help came down for him, he refused it…he turned it down. And he could of ended it right there…but he didn’t. 

TMB: And when the time limit hit…I looked into his eyes. I didn’t see a man ready to run, I saw a man who was willing to take more punishment until he felt he paid what he owed. That in itself told me that it was over…for now. So, Donnie, you go and you do what you have been itching to do since coming back. You go and you become World Champion. Because next time we meet in the middle of that ring, friend…nothing less than that World title will do. 

The scene begisn to fade as TMB pushes past the camera crew and heads inside of the arena.

“Firestarter” by The Prodigy begins to blast through the Coca Cola Dome, prompting the fans to unleash with a negative response. 

Pestalance throws open the curtains and stomps down to the ring, triggered blasts of flame accompanying his arrival at the head of the ramp. 

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, he weighs in at two hundred and sixty pounds, THE FIRESTARTER, PESTALANCE!! 

Other Guy: Hard to tell what’s going on with Pest these days, he’s been a conflicted man, we don’t know if we’re seeing the Pest persona or just plain old Rande. 

Eryk Masters: Well regardless I’m sure Pest is going to put forth a fiery effort here tonight; he’s going to HAVE to if he hopes to beat a returning Angel of Violence… 

Pest wastes no time, stalking his way down to the ring and climbing in past the middle rope. Once there he just glares at the ramp, awaiting his opponent. 

The thrashy opening of Down’s “Losing All” begins to travel through the crowd at full volume. There’s a brief pause, and then GREG ALLOCCA explodes from behind the curtains and races his way down to the ring! 

There’s a BIG pop from the crowd, cheering heard from all sides for the grand return of THE ANGEL OF VIOLENCE.  

Samantha Coil: Introducing second, he weighs in at one hundred and eighty seven pounds, he is THE ANGEL OF VIOLENCE, GREG ALLOCCA!! 

Other Guy: Talk about a HUGE acquisition for SHOOT Project, Allocca is a man who’s been around for ages, and from what I’ve seen of this guy in the past he is a FORCE of nature. 

Eryk Masters: Greg’s last major run was in the now defunct LEGACY, a place where he took a legend like X-Calibur to the LIMIT, and he looks straight-up PRIMED for this match tonight. 

Other Guy: He forged one hell of an alliance with the oh so sinister Isaac Entragian in LEGACY as well, so yeah, this man definitely has history with plenty of the SHOOT soldiers on our roster. Very happy to see him rear his violent head once again and jump back into the game… 

Allocca immediately slides into the ring under the bottom rope, and then he makes a beeline for the turnbuckle, climbing to the top in seconds while gazing out at the crowd before back-flipping off his heels to land perfectly in the middle of the ring, much to the crowd’s delight. 

Eryk Masters: Damned impressive agility, seems like Allocca hasn’t lost his stride at all during his time away. 

The bell rings with a loud clang, and the match is OFFICIALLY UNDERWAY. 

Pestalance runs forward, throwing out one big arm for a clothesline, but Allocca ducks the attempt and hits the ropes on the opposite side of the ring, and on the rebound he CLIPS Pest on the knee with a low dropkick. 

Pest drops down to one knee, and Greg meets him with piston-like right hands to the forehead, holding Pestalance’s head with his left hand while he just allows the knuckles to rain down continuously. 

Other Guy: Damn, Allocca is on FIRE in the early goings here…Pest was taken completely off guard. 

Eryk Masters: From what I understand OG, Allocca came back to this sport to vent some frustrations, this type of competition will prove to be an OUTLET for him, and as you can see…he’s unleashing some serious stress right now with each and every punch that connects. 

Pestalance manages to push Greg square in the stomach, using his power advantage to gain some separation. Allocca stumbles back, and Pest rises shakily to his feet. He measures Greg up, then takes him down to the canvas with a stiff big boot. Greg rolls following the impact, but almost IMMEDIATELY he pops right back up, and as Pest moves in Greg wraps a hand around his neck and twists him down to the canvas with a swinging neckbreaker! 

The Firestarter writhes on the canvas, both arms locked around the back of his neck as anguish travels all the way through his body. 

Other Guy: Hell I’ve only seen him in action for a few minutes here, but already Allocca has cemented the fact that he DESERVES to be back in my mind. 

Eryk Masters: Compelled to agree OG. I’m seeing almost no ring rust at all; The Angel of Violence is just tearing it up right now… 

Greg wastes not even a moment; he quickly ascends the turnbuckles, gazing out at the crowd for a moment, before LEAPING skyward and flipping his body into a perfect rotation, driving his fist right into the face of Pestalance as he lands! 

Pestalance rolls to the side, both hands covering his nose as a little rivulet of red ooze flows out of his left nostril. 

Eryk Masters: Metalfist! That was fucking amazing…the sheer athleticism! 

Other Guy: Few men in this business can pull off a crisp 450 flip like that, but Greg made it look easy. 

The crowd screams with approval, cheering on The Angel of Violence from all sides of the arena. Greg picks himself up, reaching down to bring Pest back to his feet as well, but Pest drives a desperate elbow into Greg’s gut, doubling him over. Pest then backs up a few steps, and running forward he smashes a clothesline into Greg’s chest, knocking him down to the mat with authority. 

Eryk Masters: There’s a little taste of the power that The Firestarter brings to the table, he has the ability to put on a beast-like performance on any given night. 

Other Guy: I still think the whole Rande/Pestalance personality crisis is affecting Pest here though; he just seems to be spiraling down ever since that strange turn of events… 

Pestalance moves in on Greg quickly, wiping away some of the blood from his nose as he does so. Pest aggressively pulls Allocca up to his feet, and then he just LOCKS onto Greg’s body with a bearhug. Allocca hisses in pain, and Pest immediately tightens the submission, shaking Allocca’s body from side to side. 

With pain shooting up through his spine, Greg is forced to get innovative. Rearing back with all of the force he can muster, Allocca just starts to RAM his head into Pest’s head, sickening thuds echoing through the arena as the headbutts connect, skull meeting skull. Pest endures for a moment, but finally he loses his grasp on Allocca, stumbling backwards while holding his head to the side. 

Eryk Master: Legitimate strength from Pest, but Allocca can be creatively violent, and he basically sacrificed his own head to get out of that hold. 

The Angel of Violence shakes the cobwebs out, and then he hits the ropes, rebounding off of them and proceeding to somersault across the ring before leaping through the air to SNAP a back heel kick right into the temple of The Firestarter! 

Pest goes down like a sack of bricks, his body completely limp. We zoom in on his eyes and see that a milky glaze has invaded his vision. 

Other Guy: Holy fuck, did you HEAR that? Sounded like a cleaver being buried in a cut of meat, that is one BRUTAL fucking kick! 

Eryk Masters: Greg calls that The Beheader, and from where I’m sitting it looks like Pest is LUCKY to have his head still connected to his body. 

Allocca sees his opening, and he can’t help but seize the opportunity. Using that eerie quickness, Greg ascends one of the turnbuckles, standing there for a moment in all of his scarred glory, flashbulbs popping from several different locations among the stands. 

The Angel of Violence marks his man, and then he SOARS, flipping through the air with a beautiful corkscrew rotation before FLATTENING Pestalance right across the midsection with a moonsault. 

Eryk Masters: THE CONDEMNINING!! That was a GORGEOUS corkscrew moonsault, such height and precision! 

Greg grinds a forearm into Pest’s throat while at the same time hooking one big leg, and the official drops down to make the count. 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THREE! 

Samantha Coil: Here is your winner, THE ANGEL OF VIOLENCE, GREG ALLOCCA!!!! 

Other Guy: BIG victory for Greg Allocca, and I think you’ll be able to agree with me here Eryk, the guy just seemed so focused tonight, so hell-bent on unleashing some of that inner aggression. 

Eryk Masters: No doubt, OG. The Angel of Violence is back with a vengeance, and woe onto anyone who falls under the shadow of his scorned wings. 

Greg throws one fist skyward in the center of the ring, and the crowd reaction is EXTREMLY favorable, African fans chanting loudly for the return of Allocca. 

“ANGEL!! CLAP CLAP CLAP!!! VIOLENCE!!! CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!!” 

Allocca slides out of the ring while be serenaded, slapping hands with the fans as he makes his way back up the ramp. 

The door to Jason Johnson’s office shuts behind Lennox Ferguson as he steps out into the hallway.  

 

Standing there, waiting for him, is Ichiro Seppuku. 

 

Ichiro Seppuku: Well? 

 

Ox looks down in disappointment, but then quickly smiles and lifts his head back up to meet the eyes of his friend. 

 

Lennox Ferguson: It’s a go.  

 

Ichiro smiles to match Lennox’s expression. 

 

Lennox Ferguson: Just need your signature. 

 

Ichiro nods and steps forward, putting a hand on the doorknob to Jason Johnson’s office… and he pauses. 

 

Lennox Ferguson: What? 

 

Ichiro chuckles. 

 

Ichiro Seppuku: Deja vu.  

 

Seppuku turns the door handle and opens the door, casting a quick glance back towards Lennox Ferguson before turning his gaze back towards the office. 

 

Ichiro Seppuku: Long time no see… boss. 

“Rest in Pieces” by Saliva accompanies this video package. 

We view Abel from the ground up as he stands in the center of the ring, seeing a well built man wearing red tights, red buckled wrestling boots, and red strike gloves.

“Look at me, my depth perception must be off again.” 

The camera pans up and we see the words “BE BRAVE” in black script along the right leg of his tights.

“Cause this hurts deeper than I thought it did.” 

A shot of Abel hammering an opponent with body shots, before switching to scathing knife-edge chops. The assault ends with a stiff European uppercut.

“It has not healed with time.” 

We view a broad chest, a tattoo of a human heart surrounded by thorns right above the heart that beats in his chest.

“It just shot down my spine.” 

Abel’s face comes into view. A strong jaw line, spiked blonde hair, and eyes of the purest blue – deep wells of determination.

“You look so beautiful tonight.” 

Blackwood stands in the ring, slapping his chest right above the heart, and each time he does the fans unleash with a roar of excitement and approval. His opponent stands up and turns around, only to be met with a superkick right to the heart.

“Reminds me of how you laid us down.” 

A shot of Abel running across a desolate stretch of beach, mist creeping in off the ocean. His loyal Doberman runs at his side, paws keeping pace with red Nike sneakers.

“And gently smiled before you destroyed my life.” 

Abel drops to the canvas, constricting his body around an opponent’s neck and torso with a guillotine choke.

“Would you find it in your heart.” 

Abel’s heart tattoo swims into view for a moment.

“To make this go away.” 

The blonde’s head hangs low, and we see that he’s looking at a silver locket that hangs around his neck.

“And let me rest in pieces.” 

He clenches the locket in his fist, and then raises his fist to his face and plants a kiss on one of his knuckles. 

-ABEL BLACKWOOD COMES TO SHOOT PROJECT- 

The cameras cut backstage to find Corey Lazarus and Hiro Takawa – better known as FRONTLINE II TURBO – walking down the corridor with their mutual agent and friend, Gregory Price, in tow. Corey is wearing a white beater tucked into a pair of formerly black acid wash bootcut jeans held up by a black leather belt with a platinum buckle, a platinum Rolex donning his left wrist, and his pair of custom black and gold Osiris high-tops with his "L-A-Z" logo printed in black on the outsides of both. Hiro is less flashy and wearing a sky blue collared shirt with darker blue vertical pinstripes left unbuttoned to reveal a white beater tucked into a pair of beige slacks supported by a black leather belt with a silver buckle, the heels of his recently polished black leather Gucci square-toed shoes clicking on the linoleum floor. Price, miraculously, is still wearing his usual three-piece black suit and his hair, as always, is slicked back.

Dutch Harris: Corey! Hiro!

Frontline II TURBO barely even acknowledges the Revolution backstage interviewer’s invading presence as they continue walking casually towards whatever destination they may have.

Dutch Harris: Can I have a word, please?

Corey stops short and causes Dutch to jump back quick before calming himself down, a smirk appearing on Laz’s face.

Lazarus: Sure thing, kid. What’s up?

Dutch Harris: Well, you’re not booked on this trip for either Revolution or Dominion, so I was wondering…!

Price interjects himself, placing a hand on Dutch’s chest and gently pushing him away.

Price: I’m sorry, mister…what’s your name again?

Dutch’s eyebrow raises as his lip quivers ever so slightly.

Dutch Harris: Dutch Harris, Mr. Price. I’ve been working here for a long time, and I was just wondering if I could…

Price: Okay, whatever…look, Dutch, my clients are both in the middle of some professional business that they need to tend to, and your intrusion is preventing them from completing their chosen tasks. Now why don’t you take that microphone you have in your hand, turn right around, and sti-!

Hiro: Calm down, Gregory-san. This is of no intrusion.

Price looks from Hiro to Corey, looking for a second opinion.

Lazarus: Yeah, babe, just chill! Now, Dutchy boy, what do you have on your mind?

Dutch Harris: Neither of you two have been booked on this tour, be it tonight at Revolution 74 or in three days at Dominion 4, but yet you’ve all made the decision to fly here to South Africa for no blatant reason. I was wondering what your motives are this evening?

Corey laughs, lets out an amused sigh, and then puts an arm around Dutch’s shoulder.

Lazarus: You see, Dutchy-babe, there’s only a handful of teams in this company – hell, in this entire industry – that can legitimately lay claim to being undefeated. What you saw at Salvation was old man Cronos pulling a fast one on Crazy Boy, a man with more mental and emotional problems than your average Charlie Sheen, but what you’ve seen in the weeks prior? Total and complete dominance by yours truly, the Hollywood Kid, and my main man over here, Hiro Takawa.

Corey looks right into the camera as Price checks his iPhone and Hiro stands by, calmly crossing his arms.

Lazarus: Crimson Riot, the Gunslingers, VAS…they’ve all stepped up and talked a good little game about using us as either stepping stones to further themselves up the ladder or as a brief workout before moving on to bigger and better things, and yet, each one of them? Heh…

Corey’s trademark devilish smirk makes itself apparent as even Hiro lets a little smile appear.

Lazarus: Well, let’s just say that there’s a reason everybody’s looking forward to the day that Frontline II TURBO takes the World Tag Team titles off of the waists of Charles Brandon Magnus and Buck Dresden.

Dutch Harris: Are you saying that you’re issuing a challenge to the current World Tag Team champions, the Bad Ass Brotherhood?

Lazarus: A challenge?

Corey chuckles, shaking his head. He turns to Hiro…

Lazarus: Can you believe this guy?

Hiro: He is quite amusing, my friend.

…and Takawa responds by walking up to Dutch Harris, gently taking the microphone from him.

Hiro: We are issuing a fair warning of intent that, one day soon, Frontline II TURBO will earn the right to call ourselves the greatest tag team throughout this entire sport of kings. Should our destiny involve battling Charles Brandon Magnus and Buck Dresden then we will ensure victory.

Corey takes the microphone from Hiro and winks into the camera.

Lazarus: As for why we’re here tonight in beautiful Johannesburg at the absolutely gorgeous Coca Cola Center? Easy! We’re here to scout the competition. In case you haven’t noticed, the entire BAB – Magnus, Dresden, and Coleman – are the main event. We’ve seen then make Valjean and Skylar look like the little insignificant used rubbers that they are, we’ve seen them capture the SHOOT Project World Tag Team titles, and tonight? We’ll be scouting how they work as a full-on unit, a cohesive triumvirate, against three men who give no quarter, who have no issue with ripping somebody’s intestines out through their throats just to get a win. We’re here to let them know that we’ve got our sights set on them, that we’re worthy of all of the hype we’ve been getting all over the Internet and in the locker room and in the office, and that they’re time as the epitome of tag team wrestling in SHOOT Project is tick-tick-ticking down. But hey, that’s just life, right? Deal with it. Rock n’ roll, kids. ROCK N’ FUCKING ROLL!

Laz drops the microphone onto the floor, the distinctive POP of contact echoing throughout the arena, and Dutch scurries to retrieve it as all three men – Corey Lazarus, Hiro Takawa, and Gregory Price – walk away.

Samantha Coil: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and…

LIGHTS. OUT.

As if on cue, the lights darken in the arena, pitching the arena into blackness. Suddenly, a voice comes over the speakers.

All the whores and politicians will look up and shout, "SAVE US!"…and I’ll whisper "no…"

The crowd becomes restless, and a number of jeers begin to sound from different sections of the arena.

I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND!

The boos are stunned into silence, and the lights in the arena go up as :Horseshoes and Handgrenades" by Green Day begins to play over the speakers. Lennox Ferguson and Ichiro Seppuku are standing at the top of the rampway, arms cross, with Ichiro dressed in is usual black-and-red suit and tie, with Lennox Ferguson taking a more casual approach in jeans and a black and gold hoodie. The two look at each other before nodding and making their way down to the ring.

I think I’m coming out

All the deceivers and cheaters

I think we’ve got a bleeder right now

Samantha Coil: Introducing first, he weighs in at 230 pounds! Accompanied by Ichiro Seppuku, he is LENNOX "The OX!" FERRRRRRRGUSSSSSSSSONNNNNN!

Other Guy: Ox and Ichiro have become increasingly close over the last couple of months, to the point now where I think, after his recent actions, Ichiro might be the only friend Ox has in SHOOT Project!

Eryk Masters: Yeah, that’s called Stockholm Syndrome, OG! Compared to where Ox was when Ichiro appeared as "Tyr" there has been NOTHING positive to come form this relationship. It’s sickening and sad if you ask me.

Other Guy: Good thing no one asked you then, huh?

So don’t you fuck me around

Because I’ll shoot you down

I’m gonna drink, fight and fuck

And push my luck

All the time now!

Lennox and Ichiro simultaneously pull themselves up and into the ring as the music fades and Lennox Ferguson walks toward the back of the ring, looking out over the crowd. Soon, the airwaves fill with the sounds of "Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones, and the fans begin to cheer for the former Iron Fist Champion before he’s even announced!

Samantha Coil: And his opponent, from San Antonio, Texas! Weighing in at 235 pounds! He is "The Saint" JAAAAAAIME ALLLLLLLLEJAAAAAAANDROOOOOO!

As Samantha Coil says his name, Jaime Alaejandro steps out from the back, and stops at the top of the ramp. He waves his arm behind himself, waving someone on from the back. Shortly after, Thomas Manchester Black joins him at the top of the ramp!

Eryk Masters: Looks like The Saint has himself some back up tonight!

Other Guy: That can’t be legal! Ichiro Seppuku is the Ox’s manager or something like that…this, this is a mugging!

Alejandro and TMB make their way down the ramp, and Alejandro is quick to slide into the ring as Lennox Ferguson keeps an eye on him, a smile on his face. Lennox looks down to see TMB hesitating for a moment before grabbing the bottom rope and pulling himself onto the apron to step through the ropes. Ichiro Seppuku immediately steps in front of the Ox as the crowd begins to buzz with excitement.

Other Guy: Oh Wow, I’m not sure if either side is going to let the other one start here, Eryk!

Eryk Masters: Wait a minute…what’s Ox doing?

Lennox walks to the side of the ring and motions over the ropes for Samantha Coil to return to the ring and hand him a microphone, which she quickly does. The crowd begins to boo as Ox raises the microphone and then lowers it. The Saint smirks as Lennox looks up to the crowd, which is seemingly ready to jump on anything as a reason to vilify Lennox for his criticism earlier this week. TMB cracks his knuckles, staring at Ichiro and ready to strike.

Lennox Ferguson: Jaime…before you do anything you’ll regret later, I have some bad news. Well, bad news for you, that is…

Jaime’s smile falls from his face. Ferguson looks up to the crowd, and then back to Jaime.

Lennox Ferguson: …you see, when I told you that at Revolution, I was going to put an end to all of this? I. Meant. It.

Lennox motions to Ichiro, who reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out some papers.

Lennox Ferguson: Today, I went and talked to Jason Johnson and ended my contract as a wrestler with SHOOT Project.

Eryk Masters: WHAT?!

The camera picks up Jaime yelling "Bullshit!" to which Lennox just shrugs.

Lennox Ferguson: It’s true. As of 4 pm today, I am no longer a member of the SHOOT Project Roster.

The crowd begins to erupt with surprise, casing Ox to roll his eyes.

Lennox Ferguson: HOWEVER!

He holds up the hand with the papers in it, trying to silence he crowd to no avail.

Lennox Ferguson: I signed a NEW contract with Jason Johnson and… as of 4:05 pm today, I am officially a manager…with a set of special rights and responsibilities…

Other Guy: Wait…what?

Lennox Ferguson: First. As a manager…I am protected from any and all physical assaults by members of the SHOOT Project roster. If someone on the roster, like YOU Jaime, lays a hand on me? They’ll be suspended.

Jaime shakes his head in disbelief as the fans begin to boo.

Lennox Ferguson: However, I’ve always been about fairness Jaime…

BUUUUULL SHIIIIT! BUUUUULL SHIIIIIT! BUUUUUULL SHIIIIIIT

Lennox Ferguson: …and the same rules apply to me. If I lay a hand on any member of the roster in anger, not only will I be suspended without pay, but all special clauses in my contract will be voided. So…you can’t hurt me? Well, I can’t hurt you either.

Other Guy: Well, that does sound pretty fair…

Eryk Masters: …there’s got to be a catch…

Lennox grins a little.

Lennox Ferguson: But…there is still the issue of how to handle the remainder of my contract. Jason gave me two options. One…I buy it out and take the financial hit. Or two…UI find someone willing to finish out my contract.

Ox lowers the microphone and turns to face Ichiro Seppuku, who has a grin from ear to ear, and the fans begin to roar in anticipation as Jaime and TMB’s eyes go wide. Lennox nods to Ichiro as the former SHOOT Project Champion begins to take off his suit jacket and tie.

Lennox Ferguson: And, as of 4:05 pm today, Ichiro Seppuku is now a member of the SHOOT Project roster and is scheduled to face Jaime "The Saint" Alejandro…right now!

Jaime turns to look at Ox again, Ferguson smiles.

Lennox Ferguson: What’s the matter Jaime? Isn’t this what you wanted?

Seppuku kicks off his shoes and points at Jaime, motioning for him to come at him but instead Jaime looks to TMB who looks to Ichiro and smiles. Jaime snatches the microphone from Lennox’s hand.

Jaime Alejandro: You must think you’re pretty smart, Ox. Running away from our fight like this, but I’m not sure you thought your cunning plan all the way through. Because, now? Me and Tommy here are going to beat the shit<.i> out of your friend and you’re going to have to sit there and watch!

The fans roar as Jaime drops the microphone with a *thud* and together he and TMB move toward Ichiro, who is now backed into a corner.

LOOK OUT HONEY ‘CAUSE I’M USING TECHNOCLOGY

The lights go out as "Search and Destroy" redone by Skunk Anansie blasts over the arena speakers. The crowd rustles and murmurs as the tron goes bright, bloody red.

Other Guy: What the HELL is going on?!

The tron seems to zoom out until a very visible, slightly familiar symbol is seen.

A red Punisher skull.

AND I’M THE WORLD’S FORGOTTEN BOY

The crowd roars out as a familiar, trenchcoated frame steps out amongst the shadows at the top of the ramp.

Eryk Masters: Oh my God…

AND I’M JUST SEARCHIN’, SEARCHIN’ TO DESTROY!

The tron keeps on the skull as the lights rise. The crowd, and the wrestlers in the ring see none other than AZRAITH DEMITRI stalking down the ramp to the ring! The crowd is awash with a rowdy mix of cheers and boos, and both Jaime and TMB look dumbfounded as Az rolls under the bottom rope. He casually walks past both of them, laughing out loud, he points at Ichiro…who steps forward as the two embrace in a giant bear hug!

Eryk Masters: God, when is the last time we’ve seen Azraith? Was he looking after his newborn son?

Other Guy: That’s the rumor, but the better question is when was the last time you’ve seen Az give anyone a hug?

Eryk Masters: Not since the Rooooooohcrap….

Azraith breaks away, quickly turning on his heel and glaring a hole into TMB, extending his arms from his side, challenging the SHOOT Soldier as his music fades out. The crowd roars as the idea of the two brawling right there and then, however the intense moment is broken up on Ichiro’s part. With a flick of his wrist and a dive forward, Ichiro grabs an unknown object out of Az’s outstretched hand, vaults upward and smashes it into Jaime’s face!

Eryk Masters: BY GOD! THAT’S AN ASP! Az gave Ichiro an ASP of all things!

Lennox throws his head back, laughing as Azraith lunges forward and spears TMB to the canvas before he can respond, battering him with lefts and rights! The referee immediately waves his hands to the timekeeper, and starts waving his hands to the back, as Ichiro stands above the fallen Saint and drives the asp down into Jaime’s face a second, and then a third time! Azraith remains on top of TMB, driving rapid punches into his face and body.

Other Guy: Things have exploded out of control!

Several members of security start to run down the ramp, as Ichiro mounts Alejandro and begins to choke him viciously with both hands! Azraith rises up to meet the security team, throwing two of them back out of the ring as soon as they slide in before two more manage to grab his arms and pull them back behind him. TMB gets to his feet and runs at the mass of bodies, jumping on Azraith with furious rights and lefts of his own!

Eryk Masters: This is insane!

Lennox gets out of the ring, putting his hands in the air to show that he’s not physically involved as three of the members of the security team move to grab Ichiro, but the first on the scene is met with an asp to the side of his face! As he drops, the other two jump on him to restrain him, two more join him to try and wrestle the asp from his grasp, as another two security guards grab TMB and pull him off of Azraith! The referee moves to check on Alejandro, who hasn’t moved since the second strike from the asp.

Eryk Masters: So much for a scheduled match, huh?

As soon as Masters says that, Azraith breaks free from his security guards and rushes past them, driving a Yakuza kick into TMB’s face while he’s restrained by his own group of guards! Azraith falls into a mount and continues to rain punches down until his group of three guards manages to pull him off and back to the ropes, a sick grin on his face.

(The scene opens to a picture of Greg Allocca’s face. On his face is the rarest of smiles. As the camera zooms out, we see that he is throwing the dice at a craps table, and he seems to be doing well because there is a growing crowd surrounding his table, all of them chanting his name.) 

 

"GREG! GREG! GREG! GREG!" 

 

(Greg picks up the dice once more, this time tapping a pretty blonde woman on the shoulder. She takes the cue and blows on the dice for him. He tosses them haphazardly, and quickly shuts his eyes and turns around.) 

 

Casino Employee: "SEVEN!" 

 

(Greg throws his arms up in the air, amazed that he was won yet again. When he turns back around, we notice another SHOOT Project star walking up to the table. It is none other than Jacob Mephisto.) 

 

Jacob: "That’s quite a lucky streak you have going there." 

 

Greg: "Every dog has his day I guess." 

 

(Greg picks up the dice again, but Mephisto motions for him to hold off. Greg does so, and his eyes drop as he watches Mephisto put an obscenely large amount of chips down onto the table.) 

 

Greg: "You sure about that, dude? I’ve got to lose sometime. You really want it to happen on your dime?" 

 

(Mephisto just smiles, and waves his hand as if to say losing is of no consequence, Greg throws the dice once more. Once again, he turns his back before he sees what face has come up.) 

 

Casino Employee: "FOUR! FOUR IS THE POINT! ROLL AGAIN!" 

 

(Greg seems a little nervous after having rolled a series of 7’s and 11’s, and seeing Mephisto’s stack of chips just makes him even jitterier.) 

 

Mephisto: "Just go with it." 

 

(Greg picks his dice up once again, and makes another roll. This time he can’t help but look as he sees the dice stop.) 

 

Casino Employee: "THE HARD FOUR! ANOTHER WIN!" 

 

(Mephisto smiles as he collects his chips, which have now built into a truly ginormous stack.) 

 

Greg: "So, I saw the big hype video at the PPV, Jacob. How’d you end up getting involved in SHOOT?" 

 

Jacob: “Well, I got a phone call one day from the scouts. They said they wanted me competing in the ‘big leagues.’ Money and conditions were right, so now here I am. Nothing spectacular, just your average business deal, I guess. But, I’m sure they called you up the same way, eh?” 

 

(Greg seems a little uneasy about answering before shaking it off as he prepares to roll again.) 

 

Greg: “You could say that. I guess the sport just called to me too much.” 

 

(Greg tosses the dice almost absent mindedly onto the table.) 

 

Casino Employee: “HARD FOUR AGAIN!  ANOTHER WIN FOR THE ROLLER!” 

 

Jacob: “So, you anxious to get back in the ring again?” 

 

Greg: “I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be, man. How about you?” 

 

Jacob: “Heh, I’ve been ready for a while. I’m pretty sure I got this one in the bag.” 

 

(Jacob produces an unsettling smile that seems to make Greg a little uneasy.) 

 

Greg: “You seem pretty confident, man.” 

 

Jacob: “It comes with the territory. Anyways, man, you’re really on a hell of a run. Care to make a little side wager?” 

 

(Jacob takes a little more than half of the ginormous stack of chips Greg won him moments ago and places them on the table. Greg’s eyes grow wider for a moment.) 

 

Greg: “I can’t come close to matching that much.” 

 

Jacob: “No need. Let’s just say if I win, you’ll owe me a favor.” 

 

(Greg seems to become a little suspicious, but his interest is piqued.) 

 

Greg: “What did you have in mind?” 

 

Jacob: “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about the details. It wouldn’t be anything major, man. Come on, it’s just a friendly little bet. What do you say?” 

 

(Greg thinks for a moment as he shakes the dice in his hand. Then he shakes hands with Jacob.) 

 

Greg: “Sure. It’s a bet.” 

 

Jacob: “Well, alright! Let’s see that streak continue, eh?” 

 

(The crowd around the table is chanting Greg’s name. Even the casino employee seems to be getting in on all the excitement. Jacob is smirking with a nasty air of arrogance around him. Greg shakes the dice in his hands and rolls…) 

 

Casino Employee: “OHHH! I’M SORRY! SNAKE EYES!!” 

 

(Greg shakes his head, realizing he lost the bet as well as a lot of money on the table. Jacob, is smiling, though.)

 

Jacob: “Ah, don’t worry about it, man. It’s not that bad. As a matter of fact…here.” 

(Jacob hands Greg the entire ginormous stack of chips he had. Greg almost looks offended.) 

Greg: “I lost fair and square, man. I don’t want any hand-outs. So, what’s this favor?” 

Jacob: “We’ll talk about the favor later. And money is of no consequence to me. Call it a gesture of good faith. Now, go on and double that around here. I’ve got a plane to catch. You leaving for South Africa soon?” 

(Greg can’t help but smile at the stack of chips he’s been given. Although Jacob makes him feel uneasy, he doesn’t seem like such a bad guy.) 

Greg: “Thanks, man. Yeah, I’ll be leaving sometime soon. See you there?” 

Jacob: “Absolutely.” 

(Jacob walks off and Greg turns back to look at the craps table trying to decide what to do next.)

Eryk: So yeah. We have a young man I’ve never seen before standing in our ring. Who didn’t give us notes on this? 

OG: I blame the interns. Just because we don’t pay them they get all lazy. 

You just don’t…you just don’t know me at all! 

With a blast of fog filling the entrance out walks Tanya Black as she looks out over the fans pointing to all of them as the arena explodes into cheers. As You Don’t Know Me At All continues to play Tanya walks down to the ring shaking hands with the fans at ringside before sliding in. Standing on the nearest turnbuckle she blows kisses to the fans before jumping down and facing the ring. Bowing her head Tanya makes the sign of the cross before looking up and smiling wickedly. 

Eryk: New theme. Same odd sense of style. 

OG: I should have known. This better be good. 

Tanya takes a microphone and walks up to the man who looks at her nervously. 

Tanya: Now for the record. Tell the fans who you are. 

Guy: I am Jefri Jackson. 

Tanya: And you are a trained wrestler who understands what is about to happen? 

Jefri: Yes Miss Black. 

With that Tanya nods and tosses the mic away before shaking his hand. The bell rings and we are off with a test of strength. Jefri manages to get the advantage and whips Tanya into the ropes but on the return she ducks and catches him with a lariat that knocks the man down as the fans cheer. Jefri quickly gets back up only to walk into a Side Effect that sends him back down. 

Eryk: Well okay. We have a tryout match. Though it looks like it’s just Tanya letting out some aggression. 

OG: She’s got a lot to be pissed about that’s for sure. Tanya Black had a bad night at Salvation Day 2 for sure when she lost the Sin City Title to Laura Seton in that Triple Threat match. 

Dragging Jefri up Tanya hits him with a series of chops before picking the man up and nailing a scoop slam. Kicking him in the head a few times, Tanya Black climbs the ropes and goes for the top rope leg drop. However at the last moment Jefri moves causing Tanya to crash against the mat. Scrambling to his feet Jefri unleashes a series of kicks to Tanya keeping her grounded as the fans get louder seeing the shift in momentum. Grabbing Tanya Jefri tosses her into the corner and charges hitting the body splash. Out on her feet in the corner Tanya is easy prey. Jefri waves to the fans as he climbs up high and hits a series of punches to the head of Tanya causing the fans to count along. 

1..2..3..4..5..6..NO! 

With a burst of movement Tanya grabs Jefri and shoves him off the corner down to the ring. Before the rookie can get his head back in the game,Tanya explodes with a surge of adrenaline and hits a running reverse neckbreaker. Locking on her favorite submission move Tanya’s face turns serious as the young man screams in pain and struggles to free himself. 

Eryk: She calls that Tap Out Bitch! and this kid just may do that. 

OG: Glad it’s not me. She locked that one before he knew she was on him. 

A moment later Jefri taps out and the bell rings. Letting go of the hold Tanya rolls off and helps Jefri to his feet, shaking his hand and helping the other wrestler out of the ring causing the fans to applaud loudly for the show of good sportsmanship. Once the ring is empty Tanya takes the microphone back and smiles as she looks at the fans. 

Tanya: There! That right there. Is what being a WRESTLER is all about. Competiting in this ring whether the big bosses book you against some "legend" or not. Giving some guy who probably would have made one dollar a night for the next year a big boost in his career. I mean now he will be able to ask maybe even five dollars from the local promoters as he gets the experience needed to one day be a SHOOT roster member properly. 

Eryk: She’s got a point. Just being on Revolution is the kind of thing that can catapult your career. He even got a couple offensive moves in. 

OG: True. If he can just learn to cut a good pre-match promo. Thank god for interesting violence. 

Tanya: I do this for the fans. I do this for the love of the ring. I don’t do this for my glory. I mean I’m still sore as hell from that Triple Threat but I made a promise and I always keep my word. I have honor and integrity, even if it’s balanced out by a short temper and suicidal tendencies. I mean come on! I wasn’t going to come all the way to Johannesburg and not compete as often as possible. You people deserve better than that! 

The fans cheer at this as it’s obvious they appreciate this bonus match and her honesty about what motivates her. Pacing the ring Tanya Black looks like she’s about to say something then waits. Measuring her words carefully, Tanya climbs up on the ring ropes and leans on them so far she’s about to fall out of the ring as she looks at the entrance ramp. 

Tanya: Let me make this very clear to everyone in the back. You can think what you want about me. You can judge me harshly. But you will have to deal with me and that short temper/integrity combination. Integrity is a funny thing. It means I have no choice but to cash in my contractually obligated rematch for the Sin City Championship! I was never pinned, I never submitted. Warrior’s logic dictates that the throne is still mine! Triple threat technicalities be damned, you have a meaningless prop Laura! You could have pinned me, I was down. You vicitimized poor Jester instead. Just like you victimized him by sticking your nose in HIS rightful rematch. 

Don’t start babbling excuses either about contracts and orders. You have Free Will given to all of us by God Almighty! You could have refused to pervert that match and let your "old friend" as you called him have his moment of revelation. His chance at…… Salvation. Now you are the one who needs penance. Laura let me explain something to you. Sin City isn’t a cute name for Las Vegas so the tourist bureau can have a laugh in their ads. It isn’t a gimmick SHOOT exploits for marketing purposes like your role model illusion you spotlight whore. Sin City is a way of life. It means embracing the darkness and living with it. I lay with angels and demons proudly. That is why you were afraid to try and beat me. You know you can’t. You aren’t spiritually forged like those who Sin. I’M COMING FOR YOU LAURA SETON AND I’M COMING FOR MY BELT! 

Moving back to the center of the ring Tanya paces again as she listens to the fans chant BOOK THE MATCH! while trying to compose herself. Without looking up at the fans Tanya speaks in a distant voice as if she’s no longer in Johannesburg but some other plane of reality. 

Tanya: I was called The Psycho Blonde because I am unpredictable even to the wisest and skilled of veterans. Plus I used to dye my hair obviously. I was called the Sinful Angel because despite my intentions and desires, those who showed me weakness were left to languish in Hell. I was called the Bitch Killer because those who whined and complained and played little primadonna like you got their heads kicked in and their bodies broken. There is no one like me in wrestling. That is my blessing and curse. Jason Johnson I respect your position in this company and that you did what your business mind thought was right for the fans. 

Eryk: Please don’t question with the boss. He’s the man in charge for a good reason. 

OG: True but I love Mr. Johnson. Best Boss Ever. He just loves to give raises to loyal appreciative employees. 

Eryk: Suck-up. 

Tanya: Your investment. Your big signing that you were so gung-ho excited about won’t pay off. It’s not your fault Mr. Johnson and I apologize to you. When I cash in my rematch it won’t be a wrestling match. 

Rolling out of the ring Tanya tosses her microphone into the crowd causing a small riot to break out in the stands over the souvenir. Reaching under the ring Tanya Black searches and finally pulls out a large red lead pipe. Walking up the ramp she gets right up in the face of a camera so all we see is the pipe and then her intense stare. 

Tanya: I’m coming for a Street Fight. Sanctioned or not. Miss Seton is going to prove herself the real champion of Sin City in all it’s ways to the fans and the world or die trying. Nothing else is acceptable. 

Smacking the camera with her pipe Tanya Black finishes walking up the ramp and through the curtain as the fans all pull their attention to the big screen when Tanya’s new music begins playing again. 

Eryk: I think Tanya Black has just laid down the challenge. Or was that a threat to Laura Seton and the entire SHOOT roster? 

OG: She’s psycho for sure. SHOOT is not the place to go trying to lay out ultimatums. Though I give her credit. As champion Tanya was never asked her opinion on the Triple Threat match. She laid out a different challenge and management pulled the rug from underneath her. I’d be pissed too. 

Eryk: Well she’s still got a lot to prove so I guess it was decided by something other than personal wishes. Still if Tanya can regain that belt in a one-on-one match with Laura Seton she’ll earn her respect for sure. 

OG: If she kills Miss Milk and Cookies in the back with that pipe she’ll earn a pink slip and jail time.

The arena explodes with yellow strobes and blue lasers begin to dance through the arena. Some synth. Some Bass. Some Drum. All Ke$ha.

"Lets GO-O-O-O… Lets GO!"

"We R Who We R" rips through the arena and Loco Martinez flies out into the Coca Cola Dome. The crowd cheers and bobs with Loco, who’s wearing his baggy black vinyl pants, yellow boots, and is wearing a brand new t-shirt. On the front it says "You wanna Get Loco?!" He turns his back while pogoing to the music and we see "Get In Line".

Eryk Masters: Seems Loco wants to make sure the people of Johannesburg are having a good time here, tonight.

Other Guy: I was sure we had heard the last of Ke$ha.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall… first, weighing in at 222lbs… from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania… he is the Greatest Show on Earth… YOUR FREAKSHOW… LOCO…. MAAAAAAAAAAAARTIIIIIIINEEEEEEZ!!!!

As Loco gets to the ring he rolls over the top rope into the ring and all four ring posts pop with pyro and it begins reigning glitter.

Other Guy: Fucking Glitter? Dammit.

Eryk Masters: Why so anti-glitter, OG?

Other Guy: I fucking HATE glitter, it gets everywhere and you can never get rid of it… its like shiny sand… it sucks!

Loco continues bobbing to the music standing in the middle of the blizzard of Glitter… the Glizzard, if you will. He takes off his NEW t-shirt and launches it into the crowd for some lucky fan.

Other Guy: Another 20 bucks out of the pocket of SHOOT Project.

Eryk Masters: Not exactly worried about being fan friendly, are ya?

Other Guy: Not when it affects the bottom line.

A couple ring hands hit the ring and quickly sweep out any remaining glitter as Loco loosens up in the corner.

Eryk Masters: I know a lot of people have been buzzing about this match.

Other Guy: "Buzzing" is an understatement. Both competitors are vastly accomplished. It’s going to be wild.

The lights in the arena suddenly start to flicker to an alternating red and gold hue. After a few seconds, the first few strings of "Sieben" by Subway to Sally starts to play a the crowd immediately unleashes a flurry of boos. A huge red and gold pyro explosion goes off at the top of the ramp as Azrael Goeren confidently struts out from behind the curtain, blowing a dramatic kiss to all of his "fans".

Samantha Coil: Coming down the aisle, he hails from Eberswalde, Germany…he is the self-proclaimed Megastar of SHOOT, the Sensation Not From This Nation…AAAAAAAAAAAAAZRAEL GOEREN!

As Azrael makes his way down the ramp, the pyro follows his movement and explodes with a gold surge every few seconds. He stops at the foot of the ring and unzips his uncomfortably tight black hoodie, tossing it to the ground as he slides underneath the bottom ring rope and jumps to his feet. He climbs the nearest turnbuckle and holds out his arms wide, smiling out at the jeering South Africans who have packed the arena.

Eryk Masters: Goeren looks pretty confident tonight, he managed to pin Loco Martinez at Salvation…even if he had help from that masked man

Other Guy: A win is a win baby, all hail Herr Goeren!

The bell sound, and Loco wastes little time in advancing towards Goeren. Goeren, however, has other ideas and backs into the ropes with a big smirk across his face. Willie Dean steps in front of Loco to prevent him from going after Goeren in the ropes, but Loco holds his hands up as if to say, "No problem.". Just as he does this however, Goeren shoots out of the corner with an arm extended for a lariat. 

Eryk Masters: That son of a bitch.

Other Guy: Did you REALLY expect anything less?

Eryk Masters: I guess not. 

Loco ducks the lariat. Goeren turns around, but it’s not in time as Loco levels him to the mat with a spinning heel kick. Goeren pops up off the mat pretty quickly, and Loco is right there for a second dose. Popping up yet again, Loco goes for a third spinning heel kick, but Goeren pivots. Diving just to the right of Loco, he rolls forward, taking the MoFo down into a pinning predicament.

One..

Two..

Loco kicks out emphatically.

Eryk Masters: Not a chance. Not this early in the goings.

Other Guy: Can’t blame a German Megastar for trying!

Once Loco vigorously kicks out – in one fluid motion – both competitors roll to their feet. Goeren runs into the ropes, and on the rebound he gains some speed to try to take Loco down. Loco sees it coming though and leapfrogs Goeren, sending him into the opposite ropes. Dropping to his back, Loco lifts his legs up in hopes of catching the Megastar with a monkey flip, but his timing is off and Goeren clutches both of Loco’s legs.

Wrapping both of his arms around Loco’s legs in a somewhat precarious position on the mat, Goeren heaves up on Loco’s lower half, causing Loco’s upper half to fly upward in hopes for what looks to be a wheelbarrow suplex. Showing great agility and dexterity, Loco clutches the back of Goeren’s head on his way up into the wheelbarrow suplex. Instead of falling through and being dropped on his head though, Loco sees the attempt a mile away and kicks his feet out in a flailing motion. As Goeren loses balance and control of Loco’s body weight, Loco squeezes a side headlock from behind and falls forward with a beautiful lucha-bulldog.

Eryk Masters: Gorgeous lucha-bulldog! Been a while since I’ve seen Loco bust out the ole luchadore stuff.

Other Guy: I’ve seen better from Nacho Libre.

Loco makes a lateral cover and Willie Dean drops down for the count…

One…

Two…

Goeren kicks out with ease and Loco floats over from the lateral cover to Goeren’s legs. He flips over with a jackknife pin and Dean is right there again!

One!

Two!

Showing impressive leg strength, Goeren glides Loco down to the mat in a sit-out pin position.

One!

Two!

Loco rolls back from the mat all the way to his feet, and before Goeren can react Loco kicks Goeren square in the temple. The Megastar’s body wilts into a motionless state as Loco drops down for another cover…

ONE…

TWO…

THR- Goeren kicks out!

Bringing Goeren to his feet, Loco delivers a knife-edge chop that reels Goeren back, clutching his chest. With Goeren in the ropes, Loco reaches in to grab an arm for an Irish whip, but out of the blue, Goeren kicks Loco right in the kneecap, instantly sending him down to the mat/

Eryk Masters: Oh no… that dirty bastard. Loco’s leg…

Other Guy: Goeren and X punished Loco’s leg like crazy at Salvation. I don’t blame him one bit for going for the weak spot in this match!

Eryk Masters: He didn’t just punish it. He TORTRUED it. Goeren had him in the Iron Cross for several minutes at Salvation. He could’ve done permanent damage to the Locster’s knee!

As Loco writhes in agony from the simple kick to the knee, Goeren grapevines Loco’s leg and snaps down to the mat. Trying to hyperextend Loco’s leg, Goeren pulls back as hard as he can, watching Loco’s knee bend in an unnatural way. As Loco cries out, his hands reach out for anything that can help him escape the simple, yet efficiently deadly submission hold.

"LET’S-GO-FREAK-SHOW!"

*clap, clap, clap-clap-clap*

"LET’S-GO-FREAK-SHOW!"

*clap, clap, clap-clap-clap*

Eryk Masters: Listen to Johannesburg! C’mon, Loco!

Fighting through the pain, Loco reaches out and grabs onto the bottom rope. Goeren refuses to break the hold, though, and Willie Dean administers the five-count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FI- Goeren finally lets go of the hold, simpering callously.

Eryk Masters: This man is so damn calculating and disrespectful to his opponents. I hate him.

Other Guy: You only hate him because he’s smarter, better looking, and better smelling than you.

Eryk Masters: … yeah, that MUST be it. Forget about the atrocious acts he and X have conducted over the last five months.

Other Guy: I knew it!

Bringing Loco to his feet, Goeren grabs Loco by his leg and promptly takes him back down with a dragon-screw leg whip. The pain ushers in through Loco’s psyche like a rusty dagger through soft skin. Dropping a leg across the inside of Loco’s knee, Goeren folds the rest of Loco’s leg inward, pushing on it with his free leg and completing the Indian deathlock. Lifting himself up off of the mat completely, Goeren spits and cusses at Loco to give up.

Eryk Masters: Goeren with an Indian death-lock!

Other Guy: You mean, a German-Life-Lock.

Eryk Masters: Stop.

Other Guy: Loco doesn’t look so good… I think he’s gonna tap!!

Loco is defiant in his agony, and fights through the pain. Screaming in absolute misery, Loco once again reaches out for the ropes. He’s a foot or so short, though, and Goeren tightens the hold. Loco buries his face into the bend on his arm and digs his teeth into his own flesh to negate the pain coming from his legs. Just when it looks like he wants to submit, though, Loco inches himself towards the ropes… and with one final reach, he slides a hand just underneath the bottom rope, effectively initiating another save from Willie Dean. 

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FI- again, Goeren JUST breaks the hold before he is disqualified.

Laughing it up, Goeren stands up from the mat and taunts the rabid crowd.

Other Guy: Herr Goeren’s really having a lot of fun with the rules tonight at Loco’s expense! 

Eryk Masters: Tell me something new for once, OG. Please. I beg you.

Other Guy: You know, as much as I love the confidence in Herr Goeren, he better be careful here. Loco may have a bum leg, but he’s pulled a victory out of the proverbial magician’s hat in far more dire situations than this in the past. He’s not a two-time LEGACY World Champion for nothing.

Eryk Masters: Wait a second… what is THAT?

Reaching into his boot, Azrael Goeren pulls out a small spray canister with an unmarked label. Grinning, he motions for the audience to "shh". Loco gets up to his feet, wobbling on his bad leg, and Goeren pops the top to the mystery canister.

Eryk Masters: Is that… mace?

Other Guy: I think it is.

Eryk Masters: Isn’t that something that women keep in their purses?

Other Guy: I think it might b- HEY WAIT A SECOND. Are you saying Herr Goeren has a vagina?

Eryk Masters: Indeed I am.

Loco turns around, and when Goeren extends an arm with his thumb hovering over the actuator, Loco instinctively throws his good leg up and kicks it out of his hand. Whacking Goeren’s hand hard, the miniature aerosol spray can flies across the ring, landing near the corner turnbuckle. As Goeren cries out from the shot to his hand, Loco follows it up with a standing dropkick to that sends Goeren to the mat. Proving that it may have been a mistake, Loco gets up gingerly, greatly favoring the weakened leg.

As Goeren gets up from the mat, he sees Loco hobbling on his leg and once again kicks him square in the knee joint. This sends Loco down to the mat hard, and Goeren stands, holding his hand. Showing the spot where Loco kicked him, Herr Goeren motions that he needs a medic. When Willie Dean refuses to let him see a doctor, Goeren cackles and focuses back on the fallen Loco.

Dragging Loco to the corner of the ring, Goeren motions for something to the crowd and yells out, "HAPPINESS!"

Other Guy: I LOVE IT!

Eryk Masters: What a piece of shit. He’s gonna steal one of Loco’s finishing moves.

Other Guy: Correction, Eryk… he’s gonna PERFECT it.

Positioning Loco parallel to the corner, Goeren places both of his hands on the top rope as he prepares for the split-legged moonsault. Like an Olympic competitor preparing for the high vault, Goeren bends to his knees and stretches. Closing his eyes for a moment and then looking up at the skies, Goeren takes three short breaths and springs his legs to the top rope. As Goeren moonsaults back, Loco grabs the canister that had been laying by him and points upwards into Goeren’s path. As he sprays a cloud of mace, Goeren eats most of it and misses the moonsault completely.

Other Guy: WHAT?! HE USED MACE! HE USED MACE!!

Eryk Masters: MY turn… I fucking LOVE IT!!!

As the crowd explodes, Loco pulls himself up from the mat. Seething, he watches Goeren scream, "MY EYES! MY EYES!", and flop on the mat like a fish out of water. Cocking a smirk, Loco limps his way to the blinded Goeren and kneels beside him. Cradling him, Loco feigns concern as he helps his opponent to his feet. Patting Goeren on the back – who, at this point, claws at his own eyes and dry heaves – Loco grabs an arm. Twisting it into an arm scissors, Loco rears back a foot or so before shooting inward with a nasty super kick.

Eryk Masters: LOCAPITATOR!

Other Guy: Dammit… he’s out.

Eryk Masters: Don’t have to worry about Goeren being blinded anymore. I’m sure he can see pretty vividly within his dreams!

Holding his injured leg after balancing himself for the super kick, Loco yells out in agony. Looking out at the audience, though, Loco rolls over and looks at Azrael Goeren. Suddenly, a smirk scrawls across his face.

Getting up to his feet, Loco grabs an arm and a leg of Azrael Goeren and drags him to the very corner he just tried to attempt Happiness at. With Goeren in place, Loco shouts;

Loco Martinez: THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE!

Wincing through the pain of his leg, Loco springs himself up to the top rope, and to the amazement of the crowd he actually CORKSCREWS himself down into a perfectly executed moonsault that lands flush onto Goeren’s torso. Hooking a leg, Willie Dean is right there for the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Eryk Masters: HE GOT HIM!

"We R Who We R" begins blaring over the loud speakers as Willie Dean raises Loco’s hand.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match, at a time of 18 minutes and 17 seconds… LOOOOOOCOOOOOOOOO… MAAAAAARTIIIIIIIIIIIIIINEEEEEEEEEEZZZ!!!

As Azrael Goeren slowly sits up, he clutches his ribs in pain from the modified Happiness he just took. Squinting from what is surely a blurriness unlike any hangover or drunken stupor he has ever had, he can barely make out the outline of Loco Martinez basking in the glory of redemption.

We open to Laura Seton’s locker room.  Her hair is down and she has on a yellow short-sleeve shirt, khaki shorts and black high tops, her Sin City title belt around her waist.  She speaks with her sister Madison. 

 

Laura: Well, what do you want?  I’m thirsty and if you don’t make a choice right now, you get nothing. 

 

Madison: I dunno.  I guess Sprite. 

 

Laura: Was it that hard to make a decision? 

 

Laura chuckles as she exits her locker room, and then she heads around the corner towards the catering area; an air of confidence encircles her with each step she takes. 

 

She stops about halfway down the hallway, looking at the very last door at the end of the corridor. It’s midnight black, the wood looking like it was constructed from darkness itself. Everyone has been avoiding that door; she’s even noticed some of the newer soldiers casting their eyes away from it as they walk by, as though to look at it is a bad omen. 

 

Only one word is etched into the nameplate, but that word enough to make her cautious. 

 

“SCAR” 

 

Laura begins to walk again, the catering area just around the bend past that door, but the moment she gets a few yards away, the door flies open. Entragian is the first to walk out, the albino decked out in a pure white suit, complete with bleached dress shoes and a slim black tie. Kenji & Corazon emerge seconds after, flanking Isaac on his right and left. 

 

Isaac appears to be talking to Kenji about something, but once he looks up, his eyes widen with sickening mirth. He looks to Corazon, raising both eyebrows, and then he tilts his head towards Seton as she makes her way towards them. 

 

Laura tries not to make eye contact with any of the members of SCAR, but at this point it’s too late, they don’t even allow her to walk past. Entragian stands directly in front of her, practically backing her up against the wall, and Kenji & Corazon box her in on both sides, preventing an exit for the time being. 

 

Entragian: Well if it isn’t LEGACY’s lioness! I could smell you from a mile away Laura, a scent like yours is hard to miss… 

 

The monster leans towards her, not getting TOO close, but just close enough to inhale deeply of her vanilla-scented hair. His eyes roll back to the whites for a moment, a perverse smile starting to creep across his pallid face.  Laura raises her eyebrows at this and a confused look comes across her. 

 

Laura: Uh… that’s… great? 

 

Entragian: What a joy it is to see a familiar face around here, brings back SUCH memories. One in particular I keep very close to my heart, Laura. It’s that moment when you and I shared the same ring when I was World Champion, the moment when I LICKED the sweat from your cheek as you lay on the canvas, shivering like a little child… 

 

Isaac swipes a hand across his mouth, his lips already moist, as though he’s RELIVING that repulsive act. Corazon smirks while watching Laura, all the while toying with a black-handled screwdriver held in one hand.  Laura gives a hint of sarcasm in her answer. 

 

Laura: That’s terrific.  It’s a shame I was sort of out of it because of being dropped on my head just before that.  It’d be SO fun to reminisce! 

 

Entragian: Yeah, sorry about the whole stomping you into oblivion thing, that was totally Loco’s idea…but since you were a little dazed, allow me to JOLT those memory banks. See, I can practically taste your flavor on my tongue right now.  

 

As I recall, it was the taste of strawberries. Ripe, freshly picked…so fucking delicious…shame I only got a sample, I would imagine the main course is to DIE for… 

 

Entragian’s eyes move downward, taking in every aspect of Laura’s body, his eyes seemingly glazed over. Just one look into those eyes reinforces the fact that this man is completely out of his mind. 

 

While the words send a shiver of disgust through her body, Laura looks directly at Isaac.  Knowing the SCAR members could pounce at the wrong phrase, Laura is careful choosing her words. 

 

Laura: Do you really have to behave like this?  Are you going to want to duct tape me too, like Frank Garvin did over “there?”  That kind of attitude really chives my cherries. 

 

Entragian’s eyes narrow, a huge wolfish grin spreading across his face. He bites his lower lip playfully, while at his side Corazon suppresses a laugh. 

 

Entragian: Please don’t bring up cherries, I’m finding it ever so difficult to repress the urge to POP yours right here in the middle of this hallway… 

 

Kenji leans in, a conspirator’s whisper flowing out of his mouth in a dead, hollow voice. 

 

Yamada: I think he likes you… 

 

Laura continues looking straight ahead to hopefully keep Isaac at bay, but looks towards Kenji from the corners of her eyes. 

 

Laura: Thanks for the newsflash, Tom Brokaw. 

 

Entragian: I do indeed, brother. And since I like you, Laura, I’m going to give you a word of advice. 

 

Laura: Advice?  What advice can I get from a group that has a walking snowstorm… 

 

She quickly turns to look towards Kenji. 

 

Laura: The Human Bloodbath… 

 

She looks to Corazon. 

 

Laura: And someone who sounds like he should be a bad guy from a cheesy B-movie. 

 

All three members of SCAR seem to prickle at this. All traces of flirtatious mockery vanish from Isaac’s gaze, replaced by a look of sick, all-encompassing rage. He leans back for a moment, clicking his tongue against his teeth, and then he RAMS his fist against the wall a mere CENTIMETER away from Laura’s face. An indentation forms in the wall, little pieces of plaster falling down and showering against Laura’s shoulder. 

 

Entragian: Careful, little lady. That advice I was going to give you? This isn’t LEGACY. LEGACY is dead and buried. You’re in SHOOT now, and in case you haven’t noticed? SHOOT Project belongs to SCAR. Now if you remember that, you’ll go FAR here. But if you ever forget it? 

 

Isaac leans in close, his breath HOT against Laura’s face. 

 

Entragian: I’ll personally show you that Loco Martinez only scratched the surface when it came to making your life HELL. 

 

As much as she wants to hide it, fright is beginning to show in Laura’s face.  She takes a couple cautious steps backwards, not wanting to further upset the gang. 

 

Laura: You know… uh… I think it’s time that I… got going. 

 

A snarl has taken up residence on The Ivory Terror’s face now, his upper lip twitching to display razor-sharp teeth. Seeing his teeth, Laura has a small “gulp,” before, very slowly, Isaac backs away and motions with one hand to the hallway towards the catering area, giving Laura a clear pathway. 

 

Entragian: Now boys, let’s make way for the pretty girl with the pretty little title. Glad we could have this talk, darling. Enjoy your night. 

 

Seton walks away, fighting to overcome a serous dose of the creeps. Meanwhile Isaac watches until she’s out of view, his head twisted at a predatory angle, and we see a little rivulet of spittle has oozed out of the corner of his mouth. 

 

He turns to Corazon, slapping his blood-brother on the back. 

 

Entragian: So sweet…pure, virginal meat. 

 

All three members of SCAR share a chuckle as the scene fades out.

Tanya Black walks through the hallways, drinking a bottle of water and wiping sweat off her brow. Going to her locker room she pushes the door open and is surprised to find Jacob Fisher standing there.

Tanya: Hello Jacob. What’s up?

Jacob stands as Tanya enters the room

Jacob: Just wanted to let you know that I won’t be at ringside for your match with Stan in a few days. He wants it to be just the two of you, so things are as fair as possible. I also wanted to tell you just like i told him him, that you both need to rememebr this is a friendly competition not a blood war. Do what you need to win, but remember when it’s all said and done we’re on the same side.

Tanya laughs and looks at Jacob as she sets her water bottle down.

Tanya: I know Jacob. No matter what rest assured that I respect Stan as a wrestler. It’s just that if we are all to be on the same page one day, he needs to really get to know me. For true wrestlers like the three of us that only comes in the ring. From taking the other’s measure. It is for fun and for respect on both sides.

Jacob: I think deep down Stan respects your drive in the business but being in the business as long as he has, he’s seen some dark things over the years especailly the horror stories that came out of the Carolina territories and some corners of Japan. Honestly i look at him the same way as I did my grandfather when I was a little kid, most of the time you don’t understand what they are talking about, or you don’t agree with it, but deep down something tells you they been down that road before and learned a thing two. TImes have changed and there is a good chance they never will but they figure if they spent this long getting the experience with age, maybe they can stop people from making some of the msitakes they seen others make. It’s not the 70’s anymore stan knows that but he also knows not everything changed for the better.

Tanya smiles and hands Jacob a bottle of water as she thinks on this for a moment

Tanya: I hear you Jacob. It’s true that a lot has changed since that time. Many don’t much care about anything or anyone but themselves. But I respect the past and the old ways. I got everything the hard way. Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Stan will see this when he fights me. Then we go from there. I can keep my temper as long as he doesn’t get too cute in the ring.

Tanya walked around sitting on the bench next to Jacob as she finished her water. Jacob looks down at his boots for a moment than up at Tanya.

Jacob: He knows the world has evolved, hell he finally has a cell phone even if he can’t figure out texting.

Jacob gives a short laugh.

Jacob: It’s just his 25 year abesence from the business, he came back and sees all the changes and how much the sport has moved on, and he doesn’t completely comprehend why thing need to be different that they were when he was world champ in 1979. In the long run you still get in the ring and try and win, and while he takes it seriously, I don’t think he can wrap his head around some of the things in the busniess today. I don’t think he thinks for  a moment that  you aren’t talented, he’s just used to the women wrestlers of the 70’s and 80’s and while they were talented they wouldn’t stand a chance against someone like Akuma or Project Scar.

Tanya: Well it’s his place to learn. Evolve or Die. But I will let him do it on his own time and in his own way. As I said Jacob this is no blood feud and I don’t need to be convinced he’s a good man. That’s why I didn’t give up on being allies with you guys when one of us needs it. Worry less, you are young and while it’s sweet you care too much worrying will make you old before your time.

Jacob stands up and heads towards the door.

Jacob: Someone’s gotta worrry about him, he’s given everything he has to this business and it’s taken all he’ll give. He’s the last of a dying breed you can say, but what he can lean from us there’s a lot we can still learn from him Good luck at Dominion.

Tanya: True enough. I think once this is all over Jacob, all three of us will learn a lot from each other. For now though you need to leave or learn to wash a back because I need a shower.

Tanya stands up and smirks as she looks over at Jacob.

Jacob: I’ve washed a back a time or two, but now’s probably not the time for that.

Jacob tips his hat and shows himself out as Tanya laughs and locks the door behind her so there are no uninvited guests from here on out.

WHEN IIIIII GROW UP, I’M NEEEEEVER GONNA SLEEEEEEP! 

The crowd erupts in boos as Jester Smiles emerges from the back. He is dressed in jeans and a new Jester Smiles t-shirt that has a smiling theatrical mask lying on the ground, a spotlight shining down on it, with a knife through the face. The camera pans behind Jester to see the shirt says “We Need A Savior”. Jester is visibly upset, and he doesn’t even respond to the fans booing and jeering him. 

Eryk Masters: I guess Jester has something to say? 

Other Guy: Cool new shirt. 

Jester slides into the ring and demands a microphone, which is quickly brought to him by a ring tech. Jester fakes a kick to the ring tech, and the ring tech quickly retreats, which gains a small smile from Jester, briefly, but he instantly goes back to snarling. The crowd just rains down boos and jeers on Jester, and the noise of the booing is practically deafening. 

Jester Smiles: Ummm…could you guys kindly…SHUT THE FUCK UP! 

This actually elicits more boos from the crowd, which seems to further irritate Jester, but instead of yelling more, he takes a few deep breathes and remains calm. When it finally calms down a bit, Jester begins to speak again. 

Jester Smiles: I’m not out here to state my intentions to continue pursuing the Sin City Championship. No, my time as the gate keeper is over. That is not where I’m needed. Besides, Laura Seton will make a great champion. No, my intentions out here today are to declare war. See, I’ve said some things recently, some things people didn’t much like. Things I believe to be inherently true. 

I’m here to declare my war on false legends who haven’t been relevant in years. I’m here to declare my war on people who only came to SHOOT Project because they had nowhere else to go. I’m here to declare war on those that would seek to ruin everything that men like myself, Adrian Corazon, Donovan King, Cade Sydal, and Dan Stein fought SO fucking hard to make. 

Men like Cronos Diamante. 

A few in the crowd boo. 

Jester Smiles: Men like Lunatikk Crippler and Ben Jackman! 

The crowd ERUPTS in boos. 

Jester Smiles: Men like Loco Martinez and Rocky Stellar! 

The crowd gets even louder, once again drowning out Jester’s ability to speak. Jester, however, just sneers at the crowd, breathing in and out slowly to keep his composure. 

Eryk Masters: So he’s gonna come out here and bitch and moan because these certifiable LEGENDS of the sport are getting treated with some respect, while the man who turned his back on SHOOT Project isn’t getting the same? 

Other Guy: Actually, Eryk, I think what he is saying is, he’s tired of people jumping in here and taking advantage of what he and other ‘less established’ guys worked hard to keep alive and bring to this level. 

The crowd finally dies down again, and Jester raises the mic back to his face. 

Jester Smiles: You see, I’m still looking for that hero, folks. I’m still looking for someone to rise up and save SHOOT Project. But the focus has changed. I want someone to declare war WITH me. I want someone to help me save SHOOT Project, but before I can start getting allies, I need to show the world just how breakable these…”legends” are… 

So, ladies and gentlemen, at Redemption, it’s gonna be Jester Smiles against…who? Who will answer the challenge? Ben Jackman? Loco Martinez? Lunatikk Crippler? Rocky Stellar? Cronos Diamante? Is there someone else from SHOOT’s long lost past that would like to step up? Wolfson? Mirage? Shaolin? What other irrelevant and forgotten piece of trash would like to take advantage of a REAL soldier’s hard wor- 

..I CAME TO TELL THE TRUTH… THE WHOLE TRUTH… AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUUUUUUTH..

As the harmony explodes over the PA, that one line… echoes out. The lights go dark, as the SHOOT Project faithful light the world on fire for a man who’s been through, and done it all. 

 As a red light hits the top of the ramp, Bun-B’s "Chuuch!" takes over. 

"I came to tell the truth, 

The whole truth and nothing but the truuuuuuuth. (tellin’ that, bitch!) 

I came to represent for the South 

In the streets and in the boooooooooth! (hold up!) 

I came from the bottom to the top 

And I’m out here doing my thaaaaaaang. (that’s it!) 

So if you’re tryna get it like I get it 

Let the congregation siiiiiiiiing! (CHUUCH!)"

Real Deal appears at the top of the ramp with a blood red suit jacket, black slacks, and a black Under Armour shirt under said jacket. His air his longer than usual, the typical grey streaks in the front. He’s got a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. His face is just covered up in a big ass grin.

 The crowd?  

 I mean, you gotta know by now that they went BALLISTIC for this man.  

 And they really mean it, too, when he takes a walk down the ramp, making a bee-line for Jester Smiles.

 Eryk Masters:  Oh hell yes.  I hope hope hope that this is the war that Jester is hoping for.  That man right there?  He can bring it.  He’s in GREAT shape.

 Other Guy:  Sure he can "bring it" and he’s in excellent shape but how much can he really bring?  That’s JESTER SMILES in the ring, and isn’t Real Deal like, 45 by now?  

On his way up the ring steps and into the ring, Real Deal hangs his suit jacket on the outside of the turnbuckle.  He’s also handed a microphone before he crosses through the ropes.  He walks through and then walks straight to the middle of the ring and stares right into Jester Smiles eyes.  Then, he pulls the microphone to his face, his stare never wavering.  

 Real Deal:  Declare war, you say?  You wanna declare war?  Let’s talk about that for a minute  

 Real Deal backs away from Jester, his stare still locked.  

 Real Deal:  Let’s talk, too, about false legends.  And about real legends, for that matter.  

 Real Deal smiles.

 Real Deal:  See, Jester…  I’ve been here for all of the wars, all of the stable versus stable gimmicks, and all of the legends, false or otherwise.  I’ve seen people come, seen them go, and seen some of them say the exact same things that you’re here saying today.  That said…  I don’t think any of them…  ANY of them, really meant it the way you mean it. 

 Jester Smiles nods, agreeing.

 Real Deal:  I’ve watched all the guys you mentioned as building blocks to this place…  I’ve watched you all "grow up" so to speak.  After all…  it’s not a secret to anyone that the SHOOT Project? 

 Real Deal pauses and turns and motions towards the banner.  

 Real Deal:  The SHOOT Project is the house the Real Deal built. 

 The crowd POPS, and Real Deal smiles.  

 Real Deal:  If you want to talk about breakable…  wanna talk about shattering some shit, we can talk about that.  Yeah man, legends…  for the most part, we’ve come and gone.  Some of us?  We come back, give it what we’ve got, and then that’s that.  I met my match when it came to you new kids.  Donovan King?  He put me out.  He retired me, but funny thing about retirement… 

 He smirks, and backs away just a hair.

 Real Deal:  …is un-retiring.

 The crowd goes nuts AGAIN.

 Real Deal:  So if you’re interested, Jester Smiles…  if…  for some reason you think that you deserve to take credit for adding a floor to the house that Real Deal built? 

 He smiles again.

 Real Deal:  Let’s see what you’ve got.

 Real Deal drops the mic, which makes an audible pop, and then with lightning quickness, he NAILS Jester Smiles with the REALITY CHECK and the crowd LOSES IT!! 

Eryk Masters: YES! YES! YESS! MY HEART! MY HEART! 

Other Guy: Really? Your heart is going to pee over a cheap shot? THAT is what gets you excited nowadays, Eryk? 

Bun B’s “Chuuch” hits again as Real Deal leaves the ring. He walks backwards up the ramp, smiling, the crowd still just fucking going APE SHIT. Jester Smiles starts to clear the cobwebs. He sits up and glares a hole in Real Deal, who just gives him the same, victorious grin. 

Other Guy: Well folks, whether I agree with what just happened here or not, we have our FIRST confirmed match at Redemption! Not only are we going to get the Redemption Rumble, but the former World Heavyweight Champion, Jester Smiles, will be taking on- 

Eryk Masters: A certifiable LEGEND, the now UNRETIRED, REAL…DEAL!! Jester’s gonna get his! 

Other Guy: Thanks Eryk, I TOTALLY couldn’t have finished announcing that. You are REALLY useful tonight.

The camera shot returns to the stadium, and we see Samantha Coil standing in the middle of the ring with the microphone in hand.  The lights around the perimeter of the stadium dim, leaving only the lights above the ring shining.  Mark Kendrick rings the bell three times to get the attention of the fans, as Samantha makes the announcement… 

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for your MAIN EVENT of the evening!  This match is a Six Man Tag Team contest with a 45 minute time limit, or television time remaining! 

The vicious sound of “Brotherhood of Man” by Motörhead comes over the sound system.  A spotlight illuminates the top of the ramp, and we see Akuma Satsui emerging. Satsui is barefoot and wearing dark blue karate pants, with a crimson sash around his waist. He has a towel of the same dark color draped over his head, obscuring his face.  All we can see is that he has one of his patented sharpened wooden “Kagyaku” sticks clenched between his teeth.  With his head low, Akuma Satsui starts to stalk towards the ring. 

Dave Dymond steps into the lights next. He is dressed as he always does, black SHOOT Project baseball cap, black SHOOT Project t-shirt, black blazer, and his ensemble is completed with jeans and white jogging shoes.  Dymond has a laminated SHOOT Project backstage pass hanging around his neck, and a massive smirk on his face. 

On either side of Dave Dymond stand the two men known as Damage Control. Both men are wearing black shoes, black suits, black t-shirts, and black sunglasses. They are both bald, physically imposing, and identical in every way. The two men stand on either side of Dave Dymond, and the three men walk directly behind Akuma Satsui on the way to the ring. 

The camera zooms in on Dave Dymond as he struts to the ring, and we see that as usual, he is talking a mile a minute, even though nobody can hear a word he is saying due to the deafening music.  Dymond is pointing at the camera, his mouth going non-stop. 

Samantha Coil: The first team is being led to the ring by the man who insists on being announced as the 2011 SHOOT Project Manager of the Year: DAVE DYMOND! 

There is an avalanche of boos and jeers, which even manages to drown out the sound of Dymond’s music. 

Samantha Coil: Represented by Dave Dymond – introducing first, hailing from Japan and weighing in at 350 pounds – The Poison Spike from the Pacific Rim – The Terror from Tokyo – The Narita Nightmare…AKUMA SATSUI!  His partners hail from Parts Unknown and weigh in at a combined weight of 500 pounds – here are Clubber and Stomper: DAMAGE CONTROL! 

Dymond’s team have reached the ring now, and Satsui rips the towel from over his head, and tosses it aside as he climbs into the ring.  Damage Control both remove their black suit jackets, and sunglasses.  We can see that their t-shirts are sleeveless, and both men have muscular and heavily tattooed arms.  Although we can now see their faces, their expressions remain like stone.  Satsui and Damage Control head to the far corner, and face the aisle as Dave Dymond takes a position in their corner. 

The sound of Motörhead fades out, and for a moment all we can hear is the loud jeers directed at Dave Dymond and his assorted charges.  A loud “Dymond Sucks” chant starts up, and Dave Dymond puts his hands over his ears, and screams at the fans to shut up. 

“Station” by Russian Circles starts to play, and the crowd explodes into an incredible ovation.  Buck Dresden, Jonas Coleman and Charles Brandon Magnus step into the spotlight at the top of the ramp, in unison. On the left, Dresden is wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a black Stetson hat, brown boots, and a black T-shirt with the logo on the front: BAD-ASS BROTHERHOOD. He also has one of the SHOOT Project World Tag Team Championship belts slung over his shoulder.  

In the middle, Jonas Coleman is wearing his usual black tights and boots, with a black cast wrapped around his right hand. He is also wearing an identical black BAD-ASS BROTHERHOOD t-shirt.   

To Coleman’s left is Charles Brandon Magnus, who is replete in Purple trunks, kneepads, and black wrist tape taped up from his wrist to his hands. The SHOOT Project Helmet is on the rear of the trunks, the kneepads, and the sides of the black boots has ‘MAGNUS’ written on them, all in silver. Just like his partners, Magnus is wearing an identical black BAD-ASS BROTHERHOOD t-shirt, and he has his championship title belt securely around his waist. 

Samantha Coil: And NOW…their opponents!  At a combined weight of 691 pounds, these are the SHOOT Project World Tag Team Champions: Buck Dresden, “The Butcher” Jonas Coleman and Charles Brandon Magnus – THE BAD-ASS BROTHERHOOD! 

The three men stand side by side at the top of the ramp, and hold their arms in the air.  The ovation has now risen to such a volume that it almost seems as if the ground is shaking.  The three men walk down the ramp and head up the aisle toward the ring, reaching out and slapping high fives with the fans as they make their way to ringside, the rhythmic music of Russian Circles continues to pound over the sound system. 

The camera scans the crowd, and we see an almost incalculable number of fans wearing BAD-ASS BROTHERHOOD T-shirts.  Many fans are holding up signs as well, which have the names of the individual members of the BAB, or homemade posters designed with the names of the team.  Standing out, one sign has the strange inscription: “PRAY FOR DAVE’S TOE – GET WELL SOON.”  It is obvious the Bad-Ass Brotherhood are among the most popular wrestlers on the SHOOT roster, and the reception is incredible. 

Finally The Bad-Ass Brotherhood reach ringside. Dresden tosses his hat aside, and all three men remove their shirts and toss them out into the crowd.  They slide into the ring at the same time, and take position in the corner opposite Akuma Satsui and Damage Control. The two teams engage in an intense staredown, as on the outside of the ring, Dave Dymond paces back and forth, babbling at the top of his lungs. 

The music fades, and Samantha takes her seat at ringside, next to Mark Kendrick, who rings the bell to start the match. Tony Lorenzo enters the ring, stands in the center, and points at both corners, ordering both teams to pick a representative to start the match off.   

Damage Control head to the apron, leaving Akuma Satsui in the ring. Satsui beckons to Jonas Coleman, and starts to smile.  Suddenly, all three members of the Bad-Ass Brotherhood charge across the ring at the same time!  As Jonas Coleman leaps into the air and lands a “Superman Punch” on Akuma Satsui, Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus both launch themselves toward Damage Control.   

In perfect unison, the World Tag Team Champs land dropkicks on both members of Damage Control, catching them totally off guard!  Clubber and Stomper fall backward off the apron and land on their backs on the floor!  Dave Dymond screams in anger and starts to run around his two bodyguards, screaming for them to get up. 

Dresden and Magnus get up and turn and look at Akuma Satsui. Coleman is now smashing his enemy in the face with closed fist punches, but he stops.  Satsui stumbles sideways, and sees Dresden and Magnus behind him. He looks the other way and sees Coleman.   

Akuma Satsui is surrounded by all three members of the Bad-Ass Brotherhood. 

All three members, Coleman, Dresden and Magnus fire kicks at Satsui, which land on his back, side and gut.  Satsui is rocked, and the fans are cheering so loudly that once again, it seems like the ground is shaking.  Coleman, Dresden and Magnus start throwing wild punches in unison at Akuma Satsui, who is curled up in a ball on his knees, helpless. 

Eryk Masters: Revenge is sweet SHOOT Project fans, and you are witnessing it right here, right now!  For the last four months, Dave Dymond has used unfair advantages against Jonas Coleman, and now FINALLY, it is Akuma Satsui who has the odds stacked against him! 

The Other Guy: Satsui is an animal, but nobody could survive a mugging like the one he’s getting right now at the hands of the BAB! 

Akuma Satsui is now laying flat, and Dresden, Magnus and Coleman are joyfully stomping the hell out of the 350 pound Japanese Monster.  Unbelievably, Satsui gets up to his hands and knees, but that just gives the Bad-Ass Brotherhood a better angle from which to kick the hell out of him! 

Dave Dymond has managed to cajole Damage Control into getting to their feet, but the two men had been caught totally off guard by the dropkicks from Dresden and Magnus, and they fell right off the apron onto their backs.  The two men seem to finally have gathered their wits, and they slide into the ring. 

Tony Lorenzo has been trying to get Dresden and Magnus to go back to the apron, and now he turns and tries to block Damage Control from entering the fight. As soon as Lorenzo turns his back, Magnus points to the top rope, and Coleman nods.  Jonas Coleman heads outside, and Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus reach down, and together, they hoist the 350 pound Akuma Satsui high into the air, with a double suplex! 

Eryk Masters: Holy crap!  Look at Dresden and Magnus!  They have Satsui hoisted way up in the air, and they’re just holding him up there! 

The Other Guy: Not for long!  Look out for Coleman! 

Dresden and Magnus gracefully fall backward, dropping Akuma Satsui flat on his back on the mat!  The impact of the double suplex is so hard that the entire canvas literally bounces. 

As soon as Satsui lands, and Dresden and Magnus are out of the way, Jonas Coleman leaps off the top rope, and lands with a perfectly placed knee drop, right in the middle of the forehead of Akuma Satsui!  Satsui’s body spasms from the impact. 

Jonas Coleman makes the cover, but that doesn’t matter. Damage Control have roughly shoved Tony Lorenzo out of the way, and they both charge at Dresden and Magnus and start swinging.  Both men are firing full force punches at the heads of the Tag Team Champs, and the shots are connecting.  Tony Lorenzo tries to interject, but right as he does, Dresden and Magnus start to fire punches back, and we have a pier 6 brawl between the champs and Damage Control. 

Eryk Masters: Damage Control are in the ring, and they’re pissed! Clubber and Stomper – and no I don’t know which one is which – are throwing brutal punches at Dresden and Magnus, and the champs are answering in kind! 

The Other Guy: Anybody who thought this match would be easy to take control of must be an idiot. Think about it, every time Satsui and Coleman get anywhere near each other the rulebook goes out the window and they end up getting disqualified or counted out. And now, they both brought two partners!  This is going to be mayhem. 

Damage Control and Dresden and Magnus stand toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring, brawling like maniacs as the South African fans cheer their hearts out in appreciation.  

After landing the knee drop on Satsui and failing to get a count, Jonas Coleman has risen and is looking to involve himself in the brawl between the two teams.  He turns his back on Akuma Satsui. That is a mistake. 

Akuma Satsui looks as if he has been through a meat grinder. He has a swollen eye and bloody nose, and a large bump in the middle of his forehead where Coleman landed the knee drop – but he is known for his ability to absorb punishment, and even though he is battered, bruised and bleeding, he slowly gets to his feet.  Satsui reaches into the pocket of his karate pants, and emerges with one of his sharpened wooden sticks. 

With a quick, jabbing motion, Akuma Satsui stabs the stick right into the kidney area of Jonas Coleman! 

Eryk Masters: OH MY GAWD! 

The Other Guy: That’s gotta hurt! 

Jonas Coleman curses at the top of his lungs in pain, and falls to his knees. Akuma Satsui stands over Coleman and starts to repeatedly jab the sharpened wooden stick into his forehead, opening a gash on The Butcher’s forehead.  Having heard Coleman’s exclamation of pain, Dresden and Magnus turn around and see Satsui attacking their partner. The champs start toward Satsui, when suddenly Tony Lorenzo intervenes. 

Amazingly, Lorenzo grabs the stick out of the hand of Satsui, and throws it out of the ring. He leaps in front of Dresden and Magnus and shouts at the top of his lungs, and then does the same toward Damage Control.  Akuma Satsui has a crazed look on his face and he starts to advance on Tony Lorenzo, when suddenly Dave Dymond leaps up onto the apron and starts yelling orders at Satsui and Damage Control. 

The two members of Damage Control guide the insane looking Satsui back toward their corner, and Dresden and Magnus help the bloody Jonas Coleman to his feet and guide him to their corner.  Tony Lorenzo leans over the top rope and shouts something at Mark Kendrick and Samantha Coil. 

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, referee Tony Lorenzo has announced that if both teams do not pick a participant to be the legal man in the ring, and agree to abide by the rules of this match, he will have no choice but to declare this match a NO CONTEST, and furthermore, he will revoke both teams entire purse for this match! 

Eryk Masters: That will settle things down, I bet. 

The Other Guy: Yeah, neither team wants this match to get thrown out. Both teams want to win, nobody wants to disappoint the fans, and plus – even Dave Dymond understands that if he doesn’t settle down his guys, he ain’t getting paid. 

There is a scattering of boos, but the referee’s threat seems to have worked.  Charles Brandon Magnus is now standing in the ring, while Buck Dresden is on the apron talking to Jonas Coleman who is still doubled over in pain, holding his kidney area where Satsui jabbed him. 

Suddenly the fans turn in unison and look at the top of the ramp. Three figures have emerged from the backstage area and are now standing in front of the video wall, watching the ring. 

Frontline II Turbo! 

The fans cheer in recognition, as Gregory Price stands between Corey Lazarus and Hiro Takawa. The three men show no sign of moving toward the ring, but they do appear to be studying the teams who are preparing to lock up again. 

Eryk Masters: This match just got even more interesting, OG. The team that Bruce Friedman has ranked as the Number One Contenders to the World Tag Team Championships have put in an appearance! 

The Other Guy: I’m sure they’re here because they are undefeated, and they know that everybody considers them the next in line for a shot at the championships. And I’m sure they wouldn’t mind getting into the heads of the champions either – letting them know that they are being watched. 

Akuma Satsui is now in the ring across from Charles Brandon Magnus, and the fans begin to stomp their feet and clap their hands in unison, as Magnus and Satsui slowly circle each other in the ring, while their respective partners look on from the apron. 

Satsui charges at Magnus full speed, but Charles Brandon Magnus gracefully slides downward, grabs Akuma Satsui by the arm, and throws him over with a deep arm drag.  Satsui is caught totally by surprise and hits the canvas like a bag of wet cement, looking confused.   

Akuma Satsui gets to his feet and charges at Charles Brandon Magnus again, but this time Magnus slides flat to the mat, and easily takes Satsui down with a drop toe-hold. Satsui actually lands flat on his face. 

Eryk Masters: Face plant by Akuma Satsui! This is something else!  Charles Brandon Magnus is using leverage and Satsui’s own momentum against him, and is making the big man look pretty bad. 

The Other Guy: You know why?  Because Magnus is a thinking man’s wrestler. He doesn’t hate Satsui like Coleman does.  He isn’t brawling, he isn’t trying to kill Satsui, he’s trying to wrestle him!  When you brawl, you play Akuma Satsui’s game.  Charles Brandon Magnus is making Satsui play the Magnus game, and Magnus is winning. 

Frontline II Turbo are standing on the stage, watching the match intently. Hiro Takawa is staring at Magnus, studying him carefully, while Corey Lazarus is keeping a running dialogue going with Gregory Price.  Whatever Laz is saying must be somewhat humorous, because Price is laughing. 

Meanwhile in the ring, Akuma Satsui is not happy.  He slowly gets to his feet, and is staring daggers at Charles Brandon Magnus, who is crouched, facing Satsui and is ready for the attack.  Satsui charges again… 

Charles Brandon Magnus lets Satsui come, and then deftly executes a textbook go behind, so he is standing behind Satsui, holding him in a loose waistlock. In a flash, Magnus switches positions, so his back is facing Satsui’s back, and then Magnus drops to his knees.  The motion causes Akuma Satsui to totally lose his balance, and he slides back first to the mat… 

A perfect backslide pin attempt! 

Tony Lorenzo slides down and makes the count… 

One! 

Two! 

At the last possible second, Akuma Satsui lifts his shoulder, and the crowd loudly groans at the close call! 

Eryk Masters: Damn that was close! 

The Other Guy: Look at Satsui, he’s PISSED! 

Akuma Satsui staggers to his feet, and stumbles around wildly. He looks disoriented, as if he cannot figure out what just happened, how he almost ended up getting pinned because he didn’t see it coming.  Satsui focuses in on Charles Brandon Magnus who is once again in a ¾ crouch, ready to take Satsui on. 

As soon as Satsui locks his eyes on Magnus, he screams in rage. Akuma Satsui reaches into the pocket of his Karate pants, and emerges with another sharpened wooden Kagyaku stick.  Satsui brandishes the stick over his head like a knife, screams again, and prepares to attack Magnus. 

Suddenly, Dave Dymond leaps onto the apron and starts to wave his arms and shout at Satsui. Dymond is shaking his head vehemently, and pointing at the corner.  The referee, and the Bad-Ass Brotherhood look on in confusion. Dave Dymond is ordering Akuma Satsui NOT to attack Charles Brandon Magnus, and he is telling him to tag out! 

Eryk Masters: Okay, seriously – what the hell is going on here?  Why is Dave Dymond ordering Akuma Satsui not to attack Magnus?  Is it because he doesn’t want his guys to get disqualified? 

The Other Guy: That’s one possibility. The other is that he doesn’t want Satsui to hurt Charles Brandon Magnus. Dave Dymond has made it pretty damn clear that he thinks Charles Brandon Magnus is the best technical wrestler in SHOOT Project, and that with the right management – Dymond of course – then Magnus could be World Heavyweight Champion. 

Akuma Satsui stares at Dave Dymond, and back at Magnus, who is still ready to fight.  Satsui tosses the sharpened wooden stick out of the ring, trudges over to the corner, and tags in one of the members of Damage Control!  Magnus takes a long look at Dave Dymond, then at Akuma Satsui.  He heads to his corner and tags in Buck Dresden. 

The fans cheer as Dresden enters the ring, and charges at… 

The Other Guy: Hey how the hell are we supposed to tell who is who on this team? They’re identical, and plus they wear the exact same gear! 

Eryk Masters: Actually, check out their belt buckles, OG.  Jason Johnson told me that he made it a condition of their contracts that they had to have something on their gear to identify who is who, so they couldn’t pull any fast ones.  The guy in the ring now has a steel belt buckle in the shape of the letter C, so that would be Clubber.  The other one has a belt buckle in the shape of an S, so… 

The Other Guy: Yeah yeah yeah, so that’s Stomper. I get it, Masters. I’m not a total idiot, you know. Who do you think I am, Ryan Cross or something? 

Clubber is ready for the charging Buck Dresden and the two men start to exchange wild punches, as their partners look on from the sidelines, and the fans cheer their hearts out. Clubber backs up into the ropes, and reaches out, making the tag to his partner, Stomper.  Stomper enters, and he and Clubber start to punch Buck Dresden simultaneously.  Damage Control whip Buck Dresden into the ropes, and as he rebounds off the far rope and comes into the middle, they leap into the air in tandem, and nail him with a perfect double shoulder-tackle! 

Buck Dresden hits the mat like a ton of bricks, and Damage Control stay on him. They pull Dresden to his feet and throw him into the ropes again.  As Dresden rebounds, Damage Control link arms and attempt to throw a double clothesline, but Buck Dresden ducks underneath.  He stops short behind both men, turns around, and fires a quick boot to the back of both of their knees!  Both Clubber and Stomper yell in pain and fall to the mat, clutching their hamstring area.  Tony Lorenzo gets in Clubber’s face and orders him to the apron, and the big bruiser limps back to his corner. 

Buck Dresden pulls Stomper to his feet, scoops him up, and slams him into the mat violently. Before Stomper can recover, Dresden leaps into the air and lands a picture perfect elbow smash across the torso of Stomper, who convulses from the impact.  As the camera shows Frontline II Turbo applauding from the top of the ramp, Dresden makes the cover on Stomper… 

One! 

Two! 

NO!  Stomper kicks out with authority, as Dave Dymond paces around outside the ring, slamming his hands on the apron and barks instructions at Damage Control.  

Eryk Masters: Close, but the big man from Damage Control kicks out! 

The Other Guy: One thing that is going to play into this match is a big way is the question of experience.  Coleman, Magnus and Dresden have it, and Satsui and Damage Control don’t.  Hell, I don’t think Damage Control have even been wrestling very long, so they are going to be at a disadvantage. 

Buck Dresden gets to his feet and pulls Stomper up as well.  Dresden hooks Stomper up, and hoists him up for a high vertical suplex.  For a long moment, Dresden just holds Stomper in the air, and then he drops him back. As soon as Stomper hits the mat, Dresden goes for the cover again… 

ONE! 

TWO! 

NO! 

Akuma Satsui has entered the ring and brutally stomps on the back of the head of Buck Dresden, breaking the count!  Dresden rolls off Stomper, holding the back of his head and wincing in pain.  Tony Lorenzo orders Satsui out of the ring, but Satsui totally ignores the referee.  Akuma Satsui raises one of his arms high over his head, with his hand in the claw position!  It looks as if Satsui is getting ready to slap The Shinkei Claw on Buck Dresden… 

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Akuma Satsui is nailed right in the back of the head with a missile dropkick, from the top rope! The Butcher!  Jonas Coleman saw what Satsui was about to do to Dresden and climbed to the top rope, and threw himself at Satsui, smashing the big man right in the back of the head with a dropkick and sending him sprawling! 

Eryk Masters: Jonas Coleman with the airborne save!  The Butcher flies in and hits Akuma Satsui with an incredible dropkick from the top rope!

The Other Guy: Neither Coleman or Satsui are legal either, Masters!  The legal men are still Dresden and Stomper! 

As the fans respond with thunderous cheers, Jonas Coleman gets to his feet and jumps on the prone Akuma Satsui, smashing him with closed fists right to the back of the head.  Tony Lorenzo yells at Coleman and Satsui to get out of the ring, as Dresden and Stomper roll around on the mat, and Magnus and Clubber look on from the apron. 

Akuma Satsui rolls out of the ring, and lands in a heap on the outside.  As Dave Dymond runs over and implores Satsui to get up, the monster slowly starts to rise.  Jonas Coleman looks down, and then sprints to the other side of the ring, rebounds off the far rope, then bolts right across the ring, and catapults himself right over the top rope!  Jonas Coleman lands right on top of Akuma Satsui and Dave Dymond, and all three men go crashing into the steel guard rail, and land in a heap! 

The fans come to their feet, and a chant echoes throughout the entire stadium… 

HOLY SHIT! 

HOLY SHIT! 

HOLY SHIT! 

Eryk Masters: That was insane!  Lorenzo wanted Satsui out of the ring, so Satsui rolled out, and The Butcher goes right behind him, from the air! 

The Other Guy: We have to see a replay of that one, Masters! 

As the announcers show a slow motion replay of Jonas Coleman’s suicide leap over the top rope onto Akuma Satsui and Dave Dymond, the three men lay in a mangled mess outside the ring. Meanwhile, both Buck Dresden and Stomper have slowly gotten to their feet. Charles Brandon Magnus and Clubber are both reaching out for a tag, but Dresden slaps a side headlock on Stomper and wrestles him to the mat, keeping the hold slapped on. 

Outside the ring, Akuma Satsui is surprisingly back on his feet, before Jonas Coleman.  Satsui grabs Coleman and lays him face down across the crowd barrier, with his neck right on top of the bar.  Satsui snatches a steel chair, folds it up, and smashes it across the back of Coleman’s head, as hard as he can! A loud crack echoes, and the fans groan in sympathy.  Akuma Satsui lays his leg over the back of the neck of the semi-conscious Jonas Coleman, and puts all of his weight into it, choking The Butcher.  Jonas Coleman comes to life and starts to thrash around, fighting back, but Satsui has the weight advantage. 

In the ring, Stomper has fought back to his feet, but Dresden keeps the side headlock slapped on.  Stomper tries to push Buck Dresden off, but Buck will not let go.  Stomper starts to punch the body of Buck Dresden with repeated rabbit punches, and finally Dresden releases him, but he drops him right back to the mat with a boot to the head! 

Eryk Masters: It’s hard to concentrate on the action in the ring, when Akuma Satsui is trying to kill Jonas Coleman right outside the ring. 

The Other Guy: Did you expect anything different?  These guys aren’t going to quit until one of them is dead, I don’t think. 

Akuma Satsui finally pulls his leg off the back of Jonas Coleman’s head, and Coleman sputters and coughs as he straightens up.  Surprisingly, Coleman cocks his left hand back – the one with the cast – and smashes Akuma Satsui right in between the eyes! Akuma Satsui is knocked flat on his ass from the impact of the punch, which gives Coleman a chance to recover.  Dave Dymond is only now starting to get back to his feet. 

In the ring, Buck Dresden has tagged in Charles Brandon Magnus, and the two men throw Stomper into the ropes, and when he comes off, they launch him HIGH into the air with a double back body drop!  Magnus makes the cover… 

ONE! 

TWO! 

Clubber jumps into the ring, and breaks up the count with a double axe-handle smash across the back of Charles Brandon Magnus!  Magnus leaps to his feet, folds Clubber up with a boot to the gut, and then snaps him into the mat on the back of his head, courtesy a spinning neckbreaker!  Seeing that Clubber is now in the ring, Buck Dresden rushes back in, and drops a leg right on the head of Stomper, who is still flat on his back! 

Eryk Masters: This is starting to fall apart again, OG. 

The Other Guy: Yeah, we got Coleman and Satsui outside the ring, we’ve got Magnus and Clubber in their illegally, and Dresden taking the boots to Stomper.  Wait…who’s the legal man, Dresden or Magnus? 

Chaos is indeed starting to reign.  Outside the ring, Jonas Coleman has pulled Akuma Satsui back to his feet, and he fires a snapping uppercut at Satsui, connecting with the Asian Nightmare’s jaw.  Satsui’s head snaps back, but he answers with a blistering knife edge chop across the chest of Jonas Coleman. Coleman immediately answers back with another uppercut, which is met with another knife edge chop. 

Charles Brandon Magnus hooks Clubber up for a suplex, but he has him facing the other way, with his face pointing toward the mat, not his back.  Magnus deftly walks to the other side of the ring, and then drops Clubber outside the ring, from a suplex position…face first! Clubber hits the floor outside the ring face first, and does not even get an arm up to break his fall, he simply lands flat on the floor.  Magnus slides out after him. 

Meanwhile, Buck Dresden has rolled Stomper over on to his back. Dresden grabs both Stomper’s legs and locks them into a figure four, placing the Stomper’s straight leg into his arm pit. Buck Dresden steps over the Stomper while rolling him on stomach, and sits back.  TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!  Stomper comes to life and starts to thrash around, yelling in pain from the torque which is being put on his knee, legs and back. 

Eryk Masters: This could be it, OG!  Coleman and Satsui are brawling outside the ring, on the other side Magnus is pulling Clubber to his feet…and now Magnus has Clubber in a sleeper hold, outside the ring!  Magnus has Clubber neutralized, Coleman and Satsui aren’t even looking in the ring, and Buck Dresden has Stomper locked up in a Texas Clover Leaf! 

The Other Guy: Clubber is fighting this like a sonofabitch though. Uh oh! Dymond just saw what’s happening! 

Dave Dymond has finally pulled himself back to his feet, and he sees Buck Dresden about to submit Clubber in the middle of the ring.  Dymond shrieks and slides into the ring. Tony Lorenzo hollers at Dymond to get out of the ring, but Dresden sees Dymond coming, and releases the submission hold.  The fans jeer loudly, but the jeers turn to cheers as Buck Dresden charges at Dave Dymond, lifts his one leg up high, and smashes Dymond right in the jaw with a boot to the face! 

Dave Dymond’s eyes literally roll back in his head, and he falls off the apron, to the concrete, out cold.  Charles Brandon Magnus has Stomper locked up in the sleeper hold, but Stomper is fighting as hard as he can. Magnus yells something to Dresden, and Dresden nods. 

Just as Clubber starts to get to his feet, Buck Dresden leaps forward, grabs him by the wrist and whips him into the ropes at full speed.  As Clubber heads one way into the ropes, Buck Dresden falls back into the ropes on the opposite side, and bounces forward.  As soon as Clubber reaches mid-ring, Buck Dresden is there, coming forward with momentum from coming off the ropes himself.  Buck Dresden snaps his right arm outward, and almost takes Clubber’s head right off with a vicious lariat clothesline! 

Clubber’s body is literally lifted off the ground from the force of impact caused by Buck Dresden’s lariat, and Clubber’s body spins 360 degrees in the air, before he hits the mat in a heap!  The fans are roaring as Buck Dresden goes for the cover… 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THREE! 

The fans come to their feet explosively, as the bell rings and the lights go up.  Tony Lorenzo grabs Buck Dresden’s arm and hauls it into the air as the sound of Russian Circles starts to play again… 

Samantha Coil: HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS…THE BAD ASS BROTHERHOOD!!! 

Charles Brandon Magnus releases Stomper, who immediately collapses in a heap outside the ring.  Magnus slides into the ring and embraces Dresden, and the two men hold their arms high in the air.  Coughing violently, Clubber rolls out of the ring and falls next to Stomper.  Dave Dymond is still out cold on the other side of the ring, and Jonas Coleman and Akuma Satsui are still exchanging chops and punches outside the ring – it is unclear if they even know the match is over. 

Meanwhile Frontline II Turbo remain standing on the stage, but all three men, Price, Laz and Takawa clap for The Bad-Ass Brotherhood. Price points to Laz and Takawa, and then makes a motion across his waist, indicating a belt.  He points at Dresden and Magnus, and then all three men disappear into the back. 

The shot goes back to the brawl at ringside between Coleman and Satsui.  They are still trading shots, back and forth. Coleman hits Satsui with a wicked uppercut, which Satsui absorbs and then answers back with a stinging knife edge chop.  Suddenly, Satsui staggers a few steps back,  and puts his hands over his mouth.  It appears that he may be injured. 

Jonas Coleman advances, and Akuma Satsui drops his hands, and blows a massive cloud of red mist, right into the eyes of The Butcher!  Jonas Coleman screams out in pain, his hands go to his eyes, and he collapses into a heap, rubbing furiously at his eyes. 

Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus slide out of the ring, and face off with Akuma Satsui.  Satsui looks deranged, red mist and blood dripping down his chest, and an insane smile on his face.  Akuma Satsui beckons Dresden and Magnus on, and the two men start toward him… 

Suddenly, a herd of security guards arrive at ringside, having charged down the aisle as soon as Akuma Satsui blew the mist into the eyes of Jonas Coleman.  There must be at least seven or eight guards, and they swarm the scene, separating The Bad Ass Brotherhood from Akuma Satsui. 

Eryk Masters: The Bad Ass Brotherhood get a huge win here tonight fans, with Buck Dresden scoring a convincing pinfall over Damage Control after a devastating Lariat – but now that the match is over, Akuma Satsui and Jonas Coleman seem to be determined to write yet another chapter in their bloody rivalry.  

The Other Guy: Jonas Coleman is in bad shape, Masters.  He’s still down, rubbing at his eyes. Satsui really blinded him here. 

Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus have both dropped to one knee and they are comforting Jonas Coleman and helped him to his feet.  Meanwhile, Akuma Satsui has walked around the ring to the other side, and he picks up the semi-conscious carcass of Dave Dymond and throws it over his shoulder.  A bedraggled and disappointed looking Clubber and Stomper follow Satsui up the aisle as he walks toward the back with his manager over his shoulder. 

Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus are now grimly supporting Jonas Coleman between them, as the Bad Ass Brotherhood also head up the aisle.  The camera tightens in on Jonas Coleman, who is bleeding from a laceration on his forehead, and his face is covered with a dangerous looking red spray. 

Coleman has his eyes closed as his partners help him toward the back, but as the scene fades, the microphone picks up The Butcher screaming at the top of his lungs… 

“SATSUI!  YOU’RE A FUCKING DEAD MAN!” 

Other Guy: We’re out of time, but I’m getting word that Azrael Goeren and X-Calibur are on their way to the ri–

The fans arestill buzzing over the last match before the lights suddenly go out in the arena. The fans aren’t quite sure what to make of it at first until the "Summer Overture Remix" hits and the crowd immediately starts booing as loud as humanly possible. The video screen displays two revolving gold letters, "A" and "X" before they merge and the word "Hierarchy" takes their place.  

Coming down the ramp is Azrael Goeren and X-Calibur, although it appears they’ve scrapped the overly dramatic introduction for the evening as they both seem to be moving with a purpose to the ring. Goeren’s face is still a deep shade of red due to the pepper spray from earlier in the evening and X-Calibur looks to be pleading with him to calm down as they make their way to the ring. Walking defiantly behind them is the Hierarchy’s Russian bodyguard Gavrilovich Mikael Yurinov who casually ignores the jeers and makes his way to the ring. X-Calibur looks to be clutching a clipboard in his right hand as he steps through the ropes and stares over at his frustrated partner who is kicking the bottom ropes in anger. 

Eryk Masters: This is my favorite Hierarchy entrance ever. None of that stupid buffering crap, and Goeren looks like a snozberry. 

After The Hierarchy’s shockingly quick entrance, Azrael reaches through the ropes and grabs two microphones from Samantha Coil. He angrily tosses one to X-Calibur who is still trying to calm Goeren down. 

X-Calibur: Azrael, you got to settle down.  

Azrael Goeren: NEIN! LOCO MARTINEZ MACED ME! THAT’S THE ONLY REASON I LOST! Everyone knows that Jason Johnson hates the Hierarchy, he clearly has paid off the referees to fuck with us! It’s a conspiracy against us X, and you know it! THAT’S THE ONLY REASON I LOST! 

X-Calibur: Breathe Azzy, breathe! Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure. Listen, I know, you know, and all of these Afrikaners know that everyone in SHOOT is insanely jealous of The Hierarchy. That’s why the best thing for us to do right now is govern SHOOT ourselves. 

For the first time since his match earlier in the night, Azrael breaks into a slight smile. 

Azrael Goeren: Ja, you’re right mein freund. I lost my head there for a moment; I apologize for cursing and taking the Lord’s name in vain. The lunatics and self-righteous glory whores in SHOOT need The Hierarchy around to keep this promotion from eating itself alive. As long as you and I are at the forefront of this company, all will be well.  

Azrael turns towards X with his arms wide open as the two tag-team partners embrace in a manly hug. 

Eryk Masters: I think I’m getting a tumor…kill me now. 

Other Guy: Shhhhhhh, what is it with you and ruining The Hierarchy’s moments? 

After the booing dies down from X and Goeren’s show of mutual admiration, X suddenly holds the clipboard high and faces the ramp. 

X-Calibur: Now that we’ve calmed down Herr Goeren, let’s move onto the real reason that we decided to grace you all with our presence here tonight. I don’t know if all of you know this, but tonight is truly a momentous night in the history of the SHOOT Project. 

Azrael Goeren: Let me tell them, X! 

X-Calibur: No, you got to make the last big announcement. It’s my turn! That’s right folks, prepare for your crappy little lives to be forever changed. Because tonight, the Hierarchy announces…the final grades for the remaining members of Sovereign!  

Azrael and X high-five in the middle of the ring as the crowd returns to its thunderous booing. 

Eryk Masters: That’s it? These two arrogant pricks wanted air time for this? 

X-Calibur clears his throat into the microphone dramatically, folding a piece of paper up on the clipboard. He squints before digging into his pockets for a stylish pair of blue reading glasses. He gently puts them on and continues, much to the groans of the fans. 

X-Calibur: First up on the Sovereign Report Card is one Rande Johnson, aka Pestalance, aka The Fire Starter.  

A smattering of cheers and boos from the crowd. 

Azrael Goeren: Unfortunately for my dear friend Rande, he gets an incomplete…the poor lad’s mental problems have really been wreaking havoc on him as of late. Is Rande going to show up and wrestle? Or is it going to be that insane monster Pestalance? Until he can get those two reconciled and start breaking bodies in the name of The Hierarchy, I’m afraid he’s outside of our good graces. 

X-Calibur: That’s a horrible place to be. It’s so cold, so very cold. Now though, let’s get down to brass tacks. The one man that everyone has been talking about since Salvation…  

The cheers from the South African crowd almost immediately start picking up, the savvy audience already getting a sense of who The Hierarchy is talking about. 

X-Calibur: That’s right, you know him…you love him…kinda…come on down and get your final grade, DONOVAN KING!  

"POWER (Remix)" by Kanye West and Jay-Z hits over the arenas loudspeakers as the crowd jumps to their feet, showing a lot of love for the former leader of Sovereign. After only a few seconds of the music, Goeren’s shrill German voice gets on the mic. 

Azrael Goeren: NEIN! Cut that music, cut that disgusting music! We here in The Hierarchy are as one. We eat together, we fight together, we exist together. That’s what has made us the premier force in wrestling today. There is no room for excessive individuality here, and certainly no room for individual theme music!  

The music slowly fades out, the cheers turn back into excessive jeering. 

Eryk Masters: Wait a second, don’t X-Calibur and Azrael both have their own individual intro songs? 

Other Guy: There you go again with your Hierarchy hate. 

Eryk Masters: The next time either of these two men win a match without resorting to having a masked man attack their injured opponents, I’ll immediately stop with the hate. You’ve got my word on that. 

The fans cheer as out from the back comes Donovan King.  He is dressed in a black and white linen button up shirt, with a pair of blue jeans and black boots.  He walks down to the ring slowly, staring at the men in the ring. 

Eryk Masters:  I’m actually relatively anxious to know what these two clowns are giving King for a grade tonight. 

Other Guy:  Pest gets an incomplete and King…God knows what they’d give him.  A C?  He IS kinda average… 

King enters the ring and stands still, clutching a microphone in his hand.  He listens to the fans for a long moment before he puts the microphone to his lips. 

Donovan King:  Not to sound cheap…but it’s always been a dream of mine to come to Africa.  

The fans LOVE it, naturally. 

X-Calibur:  I wouldn’t call THIS Africa…I mean, it’s on the same continent, sure.  But…I mean…it’s full of white people. 

Azrael Goeren:  But it has about as much AIDS as the rest of Africa!  

And the boos come right back.  King brushes them off. 

Donovan King:  Wow.  Seriously?  

Goeren shrugs. 

Donovan King:  Last time I was talkin’ to any of you…it was X.  We were tryin’ to come to an…understanding.  

King looks at X and then over to Yuri. 

Donovan King:  Sorry about the whole Dealbreaker with the chain, Zangief.  Heat of the moment.  

King shrugs as there is a small cheer from the apparent Street Fighter fans out there.  X steps towards King, bringing King’s attention back to him. 

X-Calibur:  That’s alright, Donovan.  It all worked itself out at the main event when you helped us take those two morons down, right?  

King looks confused. 

X-Calibur:  But seriously, man.  There wasn’t any need for any masks.  

Donovan King:  What are you talkin’ ab… 

X slaps King’s shoulder, laughing. 

X-Calibur: I’m sorry we don’t have a desk for you to sit at while we read you off your grades. That probably would have been more realistic. 

Azrael Goeren: Next time.  

King does not look amused, standing defiantly in the middle of the ring as he eyes both Goeren and X-Calibur. 

X-Calibur: Well then, let’s begin shall we? Donovan Rutherford Natalie King. Age? 27. Location? In this ring. After taking the last few weeks to study your matches and review your locker room behavior, we here in the Hierarchy have rendered a verdict.  

Azrael continues the grading announcement, taking the clipboard from X-Calibur and reading off one of the sheets of paper. 

Azrael Goeren: Over the last month or so, it has been painfully obvious to us here in the Hierarchy that you have not conducted yourself to the high standards that X-Calibur and I hold ourselves to. You’ve shown compassion and mercy to your opponents while at the same time refusing the help of Yuri at Salvation when we sent him down to aid you in your match.  

Yuri glares over at King and cracks his own knuckles, still clearly agitated from King’s assault. 

X-Calibur: However…in said matches you’ve shown a tremendous degree of skill and desire to win that cannot be overlooked. Therefore, after taking all of these things into consideration, we have decided to bestow upon you…a B… 

X holds his finger up, smiling an odd little smile. 

X-Calibur:  …PLUS!  

Goeren flips to the last page of the clipboard and pulls out a sheet of paper, showing King’s grade written in a giant red magic marker. He smiles as he gives the "gift" to King, slapping him on the shoulder in a congratulatory fashion. 

Other Guy:  HAHAHAHAHA!! 

Eryk Masters:  At least he can make the honor roll if he aces another subject, right? 

Donovan King:  I…seriously…you guys put a gold star and smiley face on here?  

Goeren nods an approving nod. 

Donovan King:  That’s…almost cute.  You know…as irritated as you two make me…I’m willing to do, like X said at Salvation, move forward amicably.  Okay.  I can let it go.  The problems the two of you have with Stellar Insanity are still not my problems, but I do understand that with Redemption comin’ an’ that Rumble comin’…it makes sense to keep on…keepin’ on.  

King shrugs. 

Donovan King:  So let’s forgive an’ forget all this.  Start over.  Clean slate.  That work for you two?  

X and Goeren shrug at one another as King nods. 

Donovan King:  Good, great.  Since we’re done here, I’m gonna leave you two to it.  

X-Calibur suddenly stops King as he’s about to exit the ring, grabbing hold of his wrist which gets an "Ooooooooooooo" reaction from the crowd. Azrael takes a step forward as well, one hand resting on X’s shoulder while the other hand remains in his pocket. 

X-Calibur: Whoa, hold up there Donovan. What you just said about forgiving and forgetting sounds all well and good to Azzy and me. Hell, with the three of us on the same page, there isn’t a damn thing anyone in SHOOT could do to us. Not Project: Scar, not Ben Jackman…not even Jason Johnson himself could stand up to us. There’s just one small problem with everything you just said…  

X-Calibur pulls Donovan King close to him, a sick smile stretching across his face. 

X-Calibur: You needed an "A" grade to remain with the Hierarchy.  

King shakes his head, clenching his teeth as the horror washes over his face for a quick second. 

X-Calibur: Sorry King, you’ve been expelled!  

Before King can even react, Goeren reaches over X-Calibur’s shoulder and BLASTS King right in the face with a stream of pepper spray from his concealed mace canister! King recoils backwards against the ropes, clawing wildly at his face as the arena becomes absolutely unglued! 

Eryk Masters: WHAT THE HELL?! 

Other Guy: HOLY SHIT! 

Azrael, X-Calibur and Yurinov start to advance on King, but Donovan somehow starts to fight back, nailing Goeren in the face with a desperation jab. Azrael stumbles backwards and almost takes out Yuri in the process as King surges forward and kicks X-Calibur in the stomach, trying to fend off the 3 on 1 attack. 

Eryk Masters: GET OUT OF THERE KING! GET OUT WHILE YOU… 

The lights in the arena suddenly go dark, just as they did during the main event of Salvation. The video screen lights up with a familiar percentage symbol countdown which only causes more boos to erupt in the frenzied arena. 

15%. 

27%. 

45%. 

57%. 

77%. 

82%. 

99%. 

99%, 

99%. 

99%. 

99%. 

INITIALIZATION ERROR. 

The light switches back on and standing behind Donovan King on the ring apron is the same masked man from Salvation, dressed in a black and white body suit and black trench coat with tribal designs. The man wears a matching black and white mask and stands motionless behind King before he jolts to life and wraps his arm around King’s throat from behind. 

Eryk Masters: This is the same lunatic who interfered on the Hierarchy’s behalf at Salvation! But…But… 

Other Guy: I know, I thought the masked man WAS Donovan King! 

X-Calibur and Azrael Goeren immediately go to work, fists and boots crashing into King’s midsection as the masked assailant holds him in place. He finally pushes King into the ring and steps through the ropes himself as he delivers a clubbing forearm to the back of King’s head that sends him face first onto the mat. 

Eryk Masters: Oh my god, this is an absolute mugging! We’ve got to get someone down here to stop this! 

Referees and SHOOT officials start swarming down the ramp, only to be stopped by the massive Russian bodyguard as they try to enter the ring. As each official tries to climb onto the ring apron, Yuri violently beats them down and tosses them back outside. Meanwhile, King is laying in a heap in the center of the ring with Azrael, X and the masked man continuing their gang-style beatdown. Their boots crash into King’s prone skull and ribs as blood cascades down King’s forehead. 

Other Guy: I…I think I’m going to be sick. 

Azrael holds out his hands to stop his fellow attackers, taking a few steps back as he lines Donovan King up. King slowly starts to stir, raising his head slightly… 

Eryk Masters: NO! NO! NOOOOOO!! 

Goeren steps forward and smashes his boot against the side of King’s skull, connecting with a sickening Blitzkrieg that sends King back down to the mat. Not to be outdone, X-Calibur waves the other two off as he reaches down and grabs King by the skull, yanking him to his feet. King immediately slumps back down to the mat as X-Calibur screams for Goeren and the masked man to hold him. 

Eryk Masters: I don’t care what Donovan King has done in the past, I don’t care how few friends he has in the back…this is completely out of hand. We need someone to get down here or they are going to cripple him! 

The masked man angrily grabs hold of King’s neck and hauls him back to his feet, holding his barely conscious body up. X-Calibur spits directly in King’s face before spinning around and nailing him with a vicious X-Terminator that shakes the entire ring! 

Other Guy: ENOUGH! ENOUGH!  STOP THIS SHIT! 

Azrael and X-Calibur hit a double high-five before they turned towards their masked associate and smile. They both back off and give him some room as the black and white clad man glares down at a lifeless Donovan King. He once again reaches down and yanks King up by his throat before pulling his head back and locking it underneath his arm as if to set him up for a reverse DDT. In one swift, brutal motion…the man suddenly lifts King up over his head and falls to the mat with a sickening falling neckbreaker! 

Other Guy: No… 

Eryk Masters: It can’t be. 

Other Guy: Eryk, I know that move anywhere! 

Eryk Masters: NOT THIS! NOT NOW! NOT IN SHOOT! 

As the masked man stands there, ominously glaring down at King, the eery strings that begin Fear Factory’s “Resurrection” begins to play. 

Other Guy:  Oh…my…God… 

The mask falls in front of Donovan King’s face.  He opens his eyes, looking at the mask in front of him as the fans rain boos down upon The Hierarchy.  He struggles to, but he manages to look up and see the man who famously changed the very face of his mentor’s entire career.  He sees the man who has been SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion.  He sees a founding member of Instant Heat.  He sees now the newest member of The Hierarchy.  He sees… 

MIRAGE. 

And nothing will be the same again.

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