Revolution 79 – 8/21/2011

Cronos Diamante is seen backstage talking to a member of SHOOT Project production with a scowl ever present. He politely thanks the man and turns around, heading toward Contessa and Keichi. 

Cronos Diamante: Anything? 

Keichi Kawada: He’s not here. I have looked everywhere. 

Contessa: Why are you looking for him? 

Cronos looks past Contessa and sees a figure resembling the man he’s looking for enter the locker room area and he darts off, leaving the question unanswered. As he turns the corner, he runs into a road agent with no sign of who he’s looking for having been this way. 

Cronos Diamante: Did Gryffin Anselm just walk this way? 

The road agent doesn’t speak. He simply shakes his head no. Cronos begins to walk past him but stops and turns the agent around to face him. 

Cronos Diamante: You’re not lying to me are you? Because you know what happens to people that lie to me and try to play me a fool, don’t you? 

The road agent, shaking now, shuts down completely and doesn’t say a word to Cronos. Cronos scoffs at him and walks off down the hall, takes a right and slips into the food area. He looks around at the food and realizes all this hunting has made him hungry. 

Cronos Diamante: You’ve got to be here. You didn’t just show up at the rumble for some one time thing. Thats not you. 

Cronos grabs a ham and swiss then sits down, staring at a wall in front of him. 

Cronos Diamante: Nobody has record of you showing up tonight but I keep seeing… 

A figure matching Gryffin’s description passes by the door behind where the line starts for food and Cronos drops his ham and swiss, now half-eaten, and hurries off. He’s chomping furiously as he literally jumps into the hall.  He looks right and sees nothing but road agents and production members. 

Cronos Diamante: I swear that was him. Where did… 

Cronos looks left and he sees the very same figure slip out the door to the parking lot and Cronos takes off on a dead run toward the parking lot. As he gets there, another man walks in and Cronos is knocked to the floor. 

Cronos Diamante: You son of a bitch. 

Standing before him, having accidently blocked his chance at finding Gryffin Anselm, is Alex Brooks. The two stare at each other with an intense hatred only few would know. Cronos stands back up and breaks the glare first by moving toward the door but he instead turns back to Alex. 

Cronos Diamante: Did you see Gryffin Anselm on your way in? 

Keichi and Contessa arive just in time to avoid a fight from breaking out. Keichi drags Cronos away and outside and Contessa coaxes Alex to follow her to go see his brother. Cronos now outside, looks at Keichi with disappointment. 

Cronos Diamante: My focus is still Alex Brooks, Keichi. But you find Gryffin Anselm. I know that man. He doesn’t just show up to fight in a rumble then disappear. He’s here. You find him. Not today, not tomorrow… yesterday. 

The opening riff of “Cut Out The Disease” grabs the attention of the crowd. The thunderous drum roll behind the riff leads to the crescendo with Mason and Leona emerging from the back. Leona is attired in a black leather ensemble- matching boots, pants and jacket over a white T-shirt, while Pierce is more attired for a match up, choosing a black T-shirt, red full-length wrestling tights and black boots. 

Eryk Masters: Well here we have the newcomer from Manchester, and gotta admit; this guy looks like one tough son a bitch. 

Other Guy: I’m too busy looking at his gal pal. Giggity Giggity GOO! 

Eryk Masters: Please keep all thoughts of your “goo” to yourself, OG. This is a motherfucking family show! 

Samantha Coil: INTRODUCING FIRST, HAILING FROM MANCHESTER, ENGLAND, HE IS “THE FIXER”…MASON PIERCE!!!! 

Mason’s eyes are obscured by a pair of sunglasses, which he wears all the way to the ring, only removing them after Leona has accompanies him into the ring. He removes his ring jacket and sunglasses and hands them to his companion, who whispers something to him before making her way through the ropes to the arena floor. 

"Love?" by Strapping Young Lad starts to pour out of the audio system, and the gaunt form of Maynard Crane stalks out from the back. He’s impressively tall with strangely disproportionate features; his hair slicked back and parted in the middle. He wears black slacks, black wingtip shoes, and sleek leather gloves. Perhaps the most bizarre facet of his appearance is the white rat crouching tamely on his shoulder as he starts down the ramp.

Samantha Coil: INTRODUCING SECOND, HAILING FROM PARTS UNKNOWN, “HOMUNCULUS “….MAYNARD CRANE!!!!!!!!! 

Other Guy: Well get a look at this gangly creep! Is Vancouver reporting any escaped mental patients out and about tonight? Because we might just have your guy! 

Eryk Masters: There’s something eerie about this guy, no doubt about it. I can’t get over the fact that he’s brought a rat down to the ring! Maybe that’s his manager…. 

Crane stops outside the ring and hands his pet off to a crew member, who reluctantly takes the rat over the timekeeper’s position. Crane then climbs up into the ring, staring down his opponent menacingly.  

The official twirls his finger to the timekeeper, and we hear the resounding clang of the ring bell, signaling that we’re OFFICIALLY UNDERWAY! 

Both men keep their distance for a moment, seeming to feel each other out. Mason lowers himself down, looking as though he might go for Crane’s legs, meanwhile Maynard stands perfectly still, simply glaring holes into his opponent. 

Mason finally makes his move, darting forward towards one of Crane’s long legs, but immediately Maynard rears back and CRUSHES a wild haymaker into the side of Mason’s face. Mason stumbles back and hits the ropes, and Crane runs at him while extending one arm for a clothesline, but Mason manages to duck the attempt, proceeding to pivot and whip a heavy elbow smash into the side of Maynard’s jaw. 

Eryk Masters: These guys seem to be testing the waters in the early goings here, trying to familiarize themselves with each other. 

Other Guy: That was a hell of a haymaker from Crane; he’s definitely got a reach advantage with those long limbs. 

Mason hits the ropes in an attempt to keep the offense coming, but Crane rears back and slams a big boot into his face. Mason goes down hard, and Crane is right there on him, pulling him up by the waistband of his tights. Crane locks him up around the waist, attempting a german suplex, but Mason uses his legs to block the suplex, and then he breaks free and reverses, ending up with a waistlock on Crane! Crane tries to fight, but Mason pops his hips perfectly and drills the big man into the canvas with a german suplex of his own. 

Maynard lands awkwardly, both hands going to back of his neck. 

Other Guy: Damn! Hard-hitting german suplex there, Maynard landed right on the back of his neck. 

Eryk Masters: Great counter from the Englishman, managing to turn that around on Crane… 

Mason moves in to scrape Crane up, but Crane scrambles free of Mason’s grasp and starts to pelt him on the side of the head with punch after heavy punch! 

Mason is rocked by the barrage, stumbling back into the ropes, and once there Maynard irish whips him towards the other side of the ring, and on the rebound Crane plants Mason against the canvas with a big-time samoan drop! 

Pierce lands hard, one arm going down to wrap around his ribs.

Eryk Masters: And look at that! This Crane is one creepy brute, it’s obvious to me already he knows how to put a hurt on someone… 

Crane drops down in a pinfall attempt.

ONE! 

TWO! 

NOOOOOOOOOO!! 

Mason kicks out just before three, throwing his shoulder up with authority. 

Other Guy: Well it ain’t over until the fat lady sings, but I guess it ain’t over in this case until the white rat squeals… 

Crane goes to scrape Mason up, and then he goes for another haymaker, but Mason ducks underneath. Mason then gets close to Crane and starts to snap off chop after high-velocity chop, forcing roses of blood to form just beneath the skin of Maynard’s chest. 

Maynard staggers backwards, and Mason hits the ropes and on the rebound he crashes into Crane with a running shoulder tackle. Crane goes down hard, looking slightly disoriented by the impact. 

Mason wastes no time, he climbs atop a struggling Crane, and he snatches hold of one of his arms and begins to snake it up into a submission predicament, bearing down hard with all of his might! 

Other Guy: Uhoh! That’s a key lock right there, one of the most painful moves in the business. 

Eryk Masters: You can’t even imagine the amount of stress Mason is putting on that shoulder, Crane’s rotator cuff is getting JACKED! 

Other Guy: Mason showing some very impressive submissive skills, already this guy is showing potential. 

Crane becomes vocal with a strange, rodent-like squealing sound, the pain obvious in his voice. He wriggles back and forth against the canvas, trying with every fiber of his being to fight this maneuver. Pierce bears down even harder, applying serious torque to Crane’s arm. 

Other Guy: Crane may be forced to tap here… 

Crane wriggles and scurries across the canvas, and then using his long limbs, he manages to place a foot on the ropes. Mason has no choice but to break the hold. 

Eryk Masters: That was TOO close…Maynard lucky to escape that maneuver. 

Mason bends down, attempting to scoop Crane up, but the disproportionate nutjob pushes Mason hard, and then he SLAPS a gigantic hand against Mason’s chest. Mason stumbles, and Crane powers him up and crushes him into the mat with a body slam. 

Other Guy: Jesus, Crane’s hands look like catcher’s mitts. This guy looks like one of God’s cruel jokes… 

Eryk Masters: He has a sadistic temperament; we’re finding that out firsthand. 

Crane rudely pulls Mason back up to his feet and proceeds to send him into the ropes with an irish whip. Crane rears back a fist, but on the rebound Mason DRILLS a big kick right into Crane’s stomach. Maynard doubles over in pain, and Mason laces his fist together and blasts a double axhandle onto the back of Crane’s neck, sending him to the canvas on his face. 

Eryk Masters: Mason calls that the A.E.S…and if I’m correct, he might be setting up for an endgame scenario… 

Mason drops down atop Crane, and immediately he locks in a nasty-looking cobra clutch-like submission. Crane flails back and forth, squealing loudly. Maynard refuses to tap, but suddenly his face takes on a slack expression, his eyes fluttering closed. 

Eryk Masters: The Manchester Necktie! That looks straight-up agonizing! 

The referee immediately calls for the bell, seeing that Maynard is knocked out cold. 

Other Guy: Crane is on dream street! He’s drooling in there… 

Eryk Masters: Very impressed with Mason, managing to choke that big bastard out… 

Samantha Coil: HERE IS YOUR WINNER, “THE FIXER”…MASON PIERCE!!!!!!!!! 

Mason stands up victorious, and then he slides out of the ring to join up with his girl as they head to the back. 

Eryk Masters: Well damned good showing for two of SHOOT’s newest soldiers, interested to see where they go from here. 

Other Guy: Big congrats to Mason, nothing quite like a victory in your debut match.

Jaime Alejandro is on his HTC phone talking to his family in Mexico. He’s not noticing anyone in the room at the moment.

Jaime Alejandro: Yeah, I’m on the way there now. Just had to take care of a few things up here. How’s she doing?

In the darkest corner, hiding from view, a mysterious figure is hiding in the shadows, watching Jaime like a hawk, waiting for a moment to strike. Jaime is turned toward the figure as he stifles his breathing, trying not to make any sound to alert his presence.

Jaime: Yes, I know. If I didn’t have business to attend to, I would’ve stayed a bit longer. But don’t worry, I’m on the next flight out.

He turns around and faces towards his suitcases, taking a mental count of what he’s got in the locker room.

The mysterious figure chuckles very softly as he reaches down against the wall and grabs a folding steel chair and clutches it softly to his chest, again not trying to alert his presence. His breathing is soft, yet sporadic, as he waits for the perfect opportunity to attack his prey.

Jaime looks down for a second at his phone. Trying to find the time. He pulls out a white shirt, but the lettering can’t be seen on the camera.

Jaime: Yeah, I’m about to get off here. Tell Mom I love her and I’ve got to get back to work. Okay?

As soon as the figure sees Jaime hang up his phone and stick it back in his pocket, you hear a soft cackle escapes his lips. He clutches the steel chair tighter and as soon as Jaime has his back turned to walk down the corridor, the mysterious figure makes his move and charges behind Jaime, chair over his head. Before Jaime can even react on what is approaching him, a loud crack can be heard as the chair connects with the back of Jaime Alejandro.

As he notices Jaime struggling to get up from the hard floor, the figure growls and raises the chair again, smashing it over his back again. And a third time for good measure. Pretty soon, the chair is dented up from the impacts. He tosses the chair to the side and pulls out a folded piece of paper and opens it up. As Jaime lies on the floor, writing in pain, the figure just shakes his head and waves at Alejandro, setting the piece of paper on the floor next to him as he starts to nonchalantly walk away. As you can hear the patter of footsteps running toward the scene, the camera zooms in on the paper that is lying next to Jaime. Written in bright red letters, almost menacingly, there are just two words that are written, almost as an omen of sorts:

"Hello Maestro."

We cut to a black screen with The Style Warrior Curtis Rose sitting in front of it.  All you can see is his bare chest, proudly displaying his smiley scar, and a pair of D&G silver-framed aviators with pink lenses.

Style Warrior: As far as the Style Warrior is concerned, he IS the SHOOT Project.  The Style Warrior reps everything there is to do with the SHOOT Project.  He is Style, he is glamour, he is golden.  When the Style Warrior wakes in the morning, he shakes whatever piece of candy is attached to his stylish bosom, and he begins the day with a nice tall sinful glass of Ketel One and Cranberry. 

Simply put, being the Sin City Champion means a few things to the Style Warrior.  Thing one, bitches.  That’s right the ladies just can’t get enough of the Style Warrior, and when they look own upon my perfect chest, they feel like I’m smiling at them.

Rose points down to the smiley face scar given to him by Adrian Corazon just under a year ago.

Next is the huge amount of free beverages coming to the Style Warrior after he becomes the Sin City Champ.  Imagine the amount of bar owners in the Vegas Area that will beg for me to try their signature drink, just because I’m the champ?  It’s great. 

Above all, think about what you need.  You want a champ that can be a face for your franchise?  There is no further to look than the Style Warrior.   You want a champ that can take you people to the next level?  Look no further than the Style Warrior.

“Hillybilly Bone” by Blake Shelton & Trace Adkins starts to play over the sound system, and the fans rush to their feet, cheering in anticipation.  As the music plays, Samantha Coil takes the microphone in hand… 

Samantha Coil: This match is a one fall contest with a 20 minute time limit!  Introducing first, making his way to the ring from Tulsa, Oklahoma and weighing 315 pounds, this is STAN ERICHSON! 

The popular member of the Gunslingers marches into the aisle, and raises his arm over his head to acknowledge the cheers of the capacity crowd.  The big man from Oklahoma is wearing his usual ensemble of black tights, cowboy boots, and of course his black Stetson. Erichson slaps hands with the fans who reach out to him, and finally slides into the ring, once again raising his arm as his music fades… 

5% 

23% 

43% 

66%  

84%  

92%  

…100% 

BUFFERING…  

…BUFFERING…  

…BUFFERING…  

…INITIALIZE.   

“Sieben” by Subway to Sally starts to play, and Azrael Goeren appears at the top of the ramp. Goeren is wearing his usual ring gear – a black sleeveless hooded shirt with a miniature German flag and red trimming, black pleather pants and black boots with bright red laces. The camera zooms in on Goeren’s face as he grimly walks to the ring, and we see that he has two black eyes, and a large strip of surgical tape across the bridge of his nose. 

Samantha: His opponent represents THE HIERARCHY and hails from Eberswalde, Germany, weighing in at 215 pounds, this is The Megastar – The Sensation Not From This Nation – AZRAEL GOEREN! 

The jeers are overwhelming, but Goeren does not engage the fans at all. He simply marches down the aisle to the ring, removing his hoodie and tossing it to the ring attendant as his music fades.  Dennis Heflin takes the middle of the ring, and Mark Kendrick rings the bell to officially start the match. 

Stan Erichson and Azrael Goeren both approach the middle of the ring. For a long moment, both Erichson and Goeren stand toe to toe in the center of the ring, locked in a staredown. Erichson extends both of his arms, preparing to lock up with Goeren… 

Azrael Goeren slides out of the ring. 

Eryk Masters: Looks like Herr Goeren doesn’t want any part of Big Stan Erichson, OG. 

The Other Guy: Hey, this guy has had a tough week!  He had to get cosmetic surgery after getting his nose broken, and he doesn’t even get the week off, they throw him right into a match with this big hillbilly instead! 

Eryk Masters:  Spare me!  Goeren got a broken nose last week, he didn’t have to get cosmetic surgery, he could have just let it heal!  He is being dramatic, and looking for sympathy. 

The Other Guy: That’s what you think.  Beautiful people need to take care of their looks, Masters. People like me and Goeren get that.  People like you and Erichson can just be content to be ugly. 

The boos are deafening, as Azrael Goeren slowly wanders around outside the ring.  He can hear the fans jeering him, but he shakes his head and continues to casually stroll around, refusing to get back into the ring.  Dennis Heflin leans over the rope and orders Goeren to get back in the ring, but Goeren ignores him. 

Dennis Heflin shrugs, and starts to administer a 20 count.  The minute Heflin starts to count, Azrael Goeren slides back into the ring and shouts angrily at the referee, asking him what he thinks he is doing.  Heflin points at Erichson and orders Goeren to start the match. 

Azrael Goeren gets into a three-quarter crouch and slowly approaches the middle of the ring. Stan Erichson reaches out to lock up… 

Goeren slides out of the ring again. 

Eryk Masters: Okay give me a break!  This is getting ridiculous! 

The Other Guy: It’s a well-known fact that German athletes require extra time to warm up, Masters.  Do some research. 

As loud as the boos were the first time, they are even louder this time.  Once again, Goeren totally ignores the jeers from the crowd.  Azrael Goeren casually strolls around the ring, going to great lengths to adjust the tape over his nose. 

Erichson reaches over the top rope and grabs Azrael Goeren by the hair, hauling him into the air and dragging him back into the ring!  Goeren screams in pain and the fans are going nuts as the big cowboy pulls the haughty German back into the middle of the ring. 

Stan Erichson releases Goeren’s hair, and instantly shoves him half way across the ring, into the corner. Erichson follows him in, stands back, and unleashes a flurry of forearm smashes across the chest of Azrael Goeren!  Stan Erichson is grimacing in frustration as he smashes and batters Goeren like a jackhammer.  Finally, Erichson stands back, grabs Goeren by the wrist, and hurls him into the opposite corner.  The big man follows right behind with a brutal lariat, and then he allows Goeren to collapse to the mat. 

Erichson goes for a cover, and Heflin makes the count! 

One! 

Two! 

NO! 

Azrael Goeren kicks out! 

Eryk Masters: Goeren escapes that time, but he needs to be careful here.  A couple more big lariats from Big Stan, and Goeren is going to be looking at two losses in two weeks. 

The Other Guy: That big redneck needs to take a shower. I can smell the manure from out here.  Seriously, why do people like him and Fisher?  It makes no sense, even if we are in Canada and these people are a little…slow. 

Erichson gets to his feet, and pulls Goeren up. 

Erichson measures Goeren off, and bashes him across the top of the head with an elbow smash. Azrael Goeren falls to one knee, and before Erichson can see it coming, Goeren nails him with a low blow!  The crowd groans loudly, and comically, Azrael Goeren does the same, holding his own groin and groaning, mocking Stan Erichson and the crowd both. 

Stan Erichson has fallen to his knees, grimacing in pain.  Azrael Goeren grabs him by the hair now, pulls him to his feet, and then slaps on a front facelock which he immediately swings into a swinging neckbreaker! 

Goeren stays on for the cover… 

One! 

Stan Erichson kicks out strongly before the two count, and Azrael Goeren leaps to his feet, and holds three fingers in the face of referee Dennis Heflin. Heflin shakes his head, and Goeren yells something loud at him in German, and turns his attention back to Stan Erichson. 

Eryk Masters: Azrael Goeren gains the advantage with a low blow, but he can’t keep Big Stan down! 

The Other Guy: That’s because Goeren is fighting not only Erichson, but also biased officiating.  Dennis Heflin has been on Goeren’s case since the bell rang, not letting him warm up, accusing him of low blows, and giving slow counts. 

As Azrael Goeren was arguing with the referee, Stan Erichson has stumbled to his feet.  Stan Erichson reaches out, grabs Goeren’s arm, and whips him into the far corner.  Goeren hits the turnbuckles at full speed, back first.  Stan Erichson tries to follow with a clothesline, but Goeren gets his foot up.  

Erichson’s head snaps back as he gets Goeren’s boot to the face. Stan Erichson falls right in front of the corner.  Azrael Goeren quickly climbs to the top turnbuckle, steadies himself for a moment, and then launches himself back with an elbow smash!  He connects across the back of the big man, flattening him. 

Goeren staggers back to his feet, desperate the keep the advantage, backs up, and comes off the ropes.  Goeren launches himself into the air, and lands another elbow smash across the torso of Stan Erichson, who has managed to roll over. Stan Erichson folds up, the air driven out of him. Azrael Goeren pulls Stan Erichson back to his feet again, and Goeren deftly leaps over top of Stan Erichson and drives him to the mat with a Sunset Flip! 

Eryk Masters:  ONE! TWO!  NO!  Stan Erichson kicks out! 

The Other Guy:  That was close! Goeren almost got him there! 

Both men untangle from the pinning combination and scramble to their feet.  Stan Erichson is irate and rushes forward, swinging wildly.  Stan Erichson buries a quick flurry of body shots on Goeren, lifting him off the ground with the impact of each body blow.  Stan Erichson starts to follow up with some wild roundhouses to the upper body, and finally stuns Goeren with a right hook to the face. Goeren staggers back into the corner under the relentless pounding from Stan Erichson.  The crowd is roaring, as the flying fists from Stan Erichson are a blur. 

Stan Erichson backs up, measures the groggy Goeren off, and then fires a wicked right hand at Goeren…who ducks!  Goeren leaps into the air, and nails Stan Erichson on the jaw with a kick! 

Stan Erichson hits the mat, and Goeren dives on him for the cover… 

ONE! 

TWO! 

NO!  Stan Erichson kicks out! 

Stan Erichson is back up, and fires a quick knee to the gut, and attempts to toss Goeren over the top rope.  Goeren lands on the apron, and grabs Stan Erichson by the back of the head, and DROPS dropping Stan Erichson neck first across the top rope!  

Goeren wants no part of brawling on the outside, so he slides back into the ring, and throws the staggered Stan Erichson into the ropes.  The Irish whip is reversed by Stan Erichson, but Goeren comes off with leapfrog, and lands on the other side of Stan Erichson.  Stan Erichson spins around, and is met with a dropkick to the jaw! 

Eryk Masters:  This match is really back and forth – when it’s a brawl Stan Erichson is in the Driver’s Seat, but when Azrael Goeren can take the action to the air, he has managed to knock Big Stan off his pins. 

The Other Guy:  They call it “stick and move” in boxing, and that’s what Goeren has to do if he wants to put the big hillbilly down. 

Erichson is flat on his back as a result of the dropkick from Goeren. Goeren pulls the bigger man to his feet, and drapes him neck first across the top rope!  Azrael Goeren casually places his leg over the back of the head of Stan Erichson, crushing him across the top rope, windpipe first! 

The fans are irate, booing and screaming. Goeren looks as if he doesn’t even notice as he casually presses his leg down.  Erichson’s face goes red as Goeren continues choking him. Dennis Heflin shouts at Azrael Goeren to stop choking Erichson.  Goeren shakes his head, as if the two men are having a debate. Dennis Heflin stands back and starts to administer a standing count of 5.  If Goeren doesn’t move his leg before the count of 5, there is no doubt that Dennis Heflin will disqualify him.   

One… 

Two… 

Three… 

FOUR… 

Azrael Goeren moves his leg, and Stan Erichson’s face turns back to its normal color, although he is coughing and sputtering over the top rope.  Azrael Goeren loudly asks Heflin if he is satisfied, and Heflin orders the match to continue. Azrael Goeren stands back, and looks at Erichson critically. He then drapes his other leg over the back of the head of Stan Erichson, choking him again! 

Eryk Masters:  Come on ref, this is ridiculous!  He’s doing it again! 

The Other Guy: Well, technically he isn’t. He’s using a different leg, see? 

The fans are shaking the foundation of the arena they are booing so loudly.  Azrael Goeren smiles sweetly as he presses down.  Stan Erichson is turning blue now, fighting and trying to get out of the choke.  Dennis Heflin screams at Goeren, telling him that if he does not move his leg now, he will call and end to the match.  Goeren rolls his eyes and brings his leg down, rolling his eyes. Azrael Goeren pulls Stan Erichson away from the rope, slaps a front facelock on him, and then powers him headfirst into the canvas with a DDT.  Erichson sprawls out, senseless.  

Suddenly, the fans start to boo loudly again. The camera angle changes to the aisle, and we see  "The Russian Assassin" Gavrilovich Mikael Yurinov – known as Yuri, making his way to the ring. Azrael Goeren’s bodyguard arrives at ringside, and Dennis Heflin is not happy about it.  Heflin leans over the top rope and yells at Yuri to get lost, but Yuri looks back at Heflin, expressionless. 

While Heflin is shouting at Yuri, Azrael Goeren reaches down and pulls a small cylindrical object out of his boot.  He holds the object over the eyes of Stan Erichson, and suddenly a blast of spray comes out, right into Erichson’s eyes.  Stan Erichson starts to thrash around, holding his hands over his eyes and yelling in agony.  Azrael Goeren casually tosses the small cylinder out of the far side of the ring. 

Eryk Masters: What the hell was that, mace?  Did Azrael Goeren just get Yuri to distract the referee so Goeren could mace Stan Erichson? 

The Other Guy: I think it was body spray. I told you, Erichson stinks. Azrael Goeren was probably just worried about getting the stink of manure on him. 

Dennis Heflin turns around and looks suspiciously at Stan Erichson, who is rolling on the mat, holding his face. Azrael Goeren has no expression on his face, as he grabs Erichson by the hair, and then stands on one leg, pivots and spins around so quickly he is a blur!  Azrael Goeren whirls around at top speed and smashes his shin right across the side of Stan Erichson’s head! The patented Blitzkrieg Buzzsaw Kick by Azrael Goeren, right into Erichson’s head, and the big man collapses as Goeren makes a cover… 

ONE! 

TWO!! 

THREE!!! 

“Sieben” by Subway to Sally immediately starts to play, as the bell rings and Dennis Heflin holds Azrael Goeren’s arm in the air… 

Samantha: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN – HERE IS YOUR WINNER – THE MEGASTAR – AZRAEL GOEREN!!! 

Azrael Goeren holds both an arm over his head, as Yuri slides in and holds the other arm up, to the general derision of the crowd.  Stan Erichson is still holding his face and laying on the mat in a prone position.  Azrael Goeren says something to Yuri, who nods.

 

The two men start to viciously stomp the defenseless Stan Erichson!  The music dies as Goeren and his bodyguard are stomping Erichson into the mat. 

Eryk Masters:  Enough is enough! You already blinded the guy and pinned him, what else do you want Goeren? 

The Other Guy: I think he blames Erichson for him losing last week.  All this crap with the Gunslingers distracted Azrael Goeren from the Master of the Mat, and that gave Stein the advantage, and the chance to beat him. 

Suddenly, the jeers turn to cheers and the fans erupt as JACOB FISHER charges down the aisle! Fisher is wearing street clothes, jeans and a Gunslingers T-shirt and he slides under the bottom rope and faces off with Goeren and Yuri!  The fans are blowing the roof off the arena, as they are excited to see Jacob Fisher unleash his anger on Goeren and Yuri… 

Jacob Fisher freezes. 

The cheers die down, and an eerie silence falls over the arena.  Fisher is standing frozen in his tracks as Azrael Goeren stands glaring at him.  Jacob Fisher doesn’t move. 

Eryk Masters:  What the hell?  Why doesn’t Fisher do something? 

The Other Guy: He’s afraid!  Ha! The big tough cowboy is terrified!  Look at him! Azrael Goeren is staring a hole in him, and Fisher looks like he’s going to faint!  And Yuri and Goeren are loving it! 

Azrael Goeren and Yuri both burst out laughing. Goeren points down at Erichson, and then points at Fisher.  Goeren and Yuri casually stroll out of the ring, and up the aisle to the back.  Once they have exited the ring, Fisher drops to one knee to check on Erichson. The entire way back to the dressing room, Goeren and Yuri are pointing at The Gunslingers and laughing, mocking them. 

The camera shot goes to the broadcast position. 

Eryk Masters:  Stan Erichson was pounding the hell out of Azrael Goeren here tonight, OG.  Goeren had to cheat in order to get the win, but then after the match – I’m serious, what the hell was that about? 

The Other Guy: The fans were sure happy to see Jacob Fisher make his return to save Stan Erichson, until Fisher froze like a deer in the headlights.  Either Goeren has totally gotten into Fisher’s head, or he’s blackmailing him, or…I don’t know what. 

We are met with the backstage of an arena, not far from the entrance tunnel. A light is on in the arena and figures move. The sound of squeaking basketball sneakers can be heard in the background. The sounds of cheering from the Vancouver fans can be heard as we see Laura Seton, in her Atlanta Dream uniform, on the screen.

Laura: Hello, Vancouver! I do apologize I can’t be at the party with you all. As SHOOT again coincides with a Dream game, I had to choose which event to be at. With no match—here I am in Connecticut! As you can see and hear, the game is still going. I’m able to talk to you all because I got ejected. Apparently referees don’t like being told repeatedly they’re doing a horrible job. Who knew?

She shrugs with an innocent grin.

Laura: I’m sure my being in Connecticut is ticking off a few people. Guys like Alejandro, Crazy Boy—if he was still here; even someone like Loco who may not like me but understands my line of thought. They respect my choices. Jason Johnson too, because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be on the roster. Organized people can juggle multiple careers at once and have success. I’m sure once next summer comes and I’m racing in the Olympic games again, those people will have a coronary.

She has a quick chuckle before continuing.

Laura: I look forward to this Sin City Championship Series—and Jaime, if you’re watching, I wish you my best against Crip. Now, Tanya, I have to say—I heard what you said last week. Eventually you stopped talking. You know…

She quickly reaches for something offscreen.

Laura: Lots of fans ask me how I pass time on the road. One of my favorite things to do is read. Like Thomas Jefferson, I have a thirst for knowledge and love reading. I found a piece of non-fiction the other day. While it’s not Pulitzer Prize worthy, it was definitely more entertaining than what Tanya had to offer; I’m sure you fans out there will agree. Here, let me read a piece for you: Cook, Robert. Cook, Thomas. Cook, William.

She tries her best to hold a serious face, as if able to hear the crowd’s laughing during her reading of a phonebook.

Laura: Cooker, Fred. Cooker, Theresa. Cookies, Milk &.

Other Guy: Oh, come on! Tanya wasn’t that bad last week.

Eryk Masters: Judging by this crowd, that’s debatable.  I have to admit, it’s pretty funny.

Laura: Let’s not forget the best part! Rodriguez, Antonio. Rodriguez, Carlos. Rodriguez, Francisco. Rodriguez, Jorge.

She tosses the book, causing a loud “THUNK!”

Laura: I find it funny you regain your title and find something new to complain about. Then again, that’s Tanya Black. You view yourself as a winner and what not but complain about everything. That’s bush league is what is, but that’s Tanya Black. If you know you’re the best, then just shut up and wrestle. So Tanya, unlike you, I’m not going to whine until I get a rematch. I don’t need one. I don’t WANT one. Say I’m chickening out if you wish or “You know you can’t beat me.” In my mind it’s not worth putting up with your consistent jabber-jabber in order to face you. There’s better people to worry about. I’ll make the finals of this Championship Series, I’m sure of that. I’m asking the rest of the field to play up to their potential and keep Tanya out of that match at Master of the Mat. She’s a step ahead of herself yet again and it only goes to serve her right to have her fail. It would mean more whining, but hey, haha, it’d be what she deserves. I’m confident in each of you guys, from Jaime to Crippler to TMB to Maya and everyone else to make it a final of people—oui, vous aussi, Monsieur Baptiste; bonne chance, mon ami—full of people with CLASS, and not a bush leaguer like Tanya.

The transmission ends and we return to Vancouver.

The scene opens at the Stellar Insanity SHOOT carnival, we get an overview of the building afternoon crowd. Families walk enjoying the atmosphere. Finally we find ourselves at a tent, with a hand painted sign that reads "Meet the Grumpy Old Men…" in red and yellow balloon lettering. We enter the tend, and are greeted by the smug, and none too pleased faces of Cronos Diamante and Rocky Stellar. They are seen sitting there with an unused Sharpie and a stack of head shots next to them, and boxes of t-shirts and other merch behind them. Both look upset, irritated, and are glare with a combined grump-ocity towards one Loco Martinez, who clearly is enjoying the moment while wearing a strange "carnival barker" costume from the 50s, complete with a long yellow coat, white pants, and yellow top hat.

Cronos: I didn’t sign up for this, Loco.

Loco look at him with a smile.

Loco: Dude, this is perfect… AND it gets you out of having to actually be out there and walking faking like you’re enjoying the carnival. You’re a business man and you KNOW this is a good idea.

Cronos grumbles more. Stellar’s turn to chime in.

Stellar: Yea…I’m seriously thinking about killing you, Freakshow.

Cronos points to his nose in the universal charade "right on" move while nodding.

Loco: What? Oh come on!! This is like…pure marketing genius!!! The two grumpy old men of SHOOT sitting in the same booth, at the same table, signing autographs… what’s not to like? We needed to do something since Maya no showed. Cronos didn’t really want to partake in the Carnival, so why not work it?

Stellar: Then, where’s Mirage? He’s like older than both of us together!!

Loco: Yea, and what makes you think the uber serious Triple M is going to be down for something like this? Plus, did they concuss you THAT bad? We don’t exactly get along with the Hierarchy. Not a group we can call for favors.

Cronos: And I am?

Loco: You’re here, aren’t you.

Cronos sighs, since Loco’s point is made.

Cronos: This better pay well.

Stellar looks at Cronos in disbelief.

Stellar: Pay? I’m not paying you if you sit here with that look on your face….

Cronos: Fuck if you aren’t…

Loco:*cutting them both off* Don’t worry, it pays well enough… and watch your language. We’re a family friendly institution.

Cronos and Stellar: WHAT!?!?!

Loco: There are kids here. This isn’t Revolution, or a flippin’ sports bar. I expect you two to behave.

Loco snaps his head to them, looing back and forth.

Stellar: I ain’t paying this schmuck to sit here…

Cronos: What the fuck does "well enough" mean?

Loco: You get a flat fee, plus whatever the booth brings in. So I would suggest you playing nice and not being a doody head.

Stellar and Cronos roll their eyes at Loco’s PG language. Loco waves his hand dismissively, but Stellar and Cronos continue to complain.

Stellar: I’m not sitting here with this douche…paying him some disgusting hourly wage to be a grump…

Cronos: Not sitting here with what? This should be entitled "The Grumpy Oldest Man and the Grumpy Young Man". I’m the young one of course. Compared to you. Fossil.

Cronos crosses his arms in a defiant pose and looks back out to the non-existant line, a small smirk on his face. No line means no tiny, annoying children.

Stellar: Excuse me? What’d you do, flunk out of kindergarten? You’re older than I am, Lupo.

Cronos slowly pivots a nasty glare to Stellar, while Loco walks away and starts to try and wave people in trying to usher up a crowd.

Cronos: I may be older than you but you’ve been around longer. That makes you the fossil. This is about the apparent "grumpy old men" of wrestling. Not "the grumpy old men of age." I mean who cares about Cronos and Rocky if they aren’t superstars?

Stellar nods in agreement at first but realizes he’s being called a fossil of wrestling by the man in it just as long as he has been.

Stellar: Ok let’s get one thing straight here, Mario…Lupo…Cronos…Devil…whatever the hell you are calling yourself these days. I am NOT THE fossil of wrestling in this here autograph signing. If anything, you should be locked up in a museum and…

Cronos: Oh no, no, no… that’s where you belong. In a museum…behind a glass case that says "break glass only in the event of war." You know… like an Abrams tank?

Loco is out in the middle o the walkway, shouting.

Loco: Ladies and Genltmen, Children of the SHOOTIVERSE… Step into this hallowed hall and MEET the grumpy old men of the SHOOT Project, kid!! Even now they argue about who is the oldest fossil in SHOOT Project!!! Two of the industry’s finest! Two long time veterans sitting side by side for ONE DAY ONLY! ROCKY STELLAR. CRONOS DIAMANTE. TWO CLASSICS, TO-GETHER! TO-DAY ONLY!!!!!

At this point in time, a little kid walks up wearing a SHOOT Project t-shirt and looks at the two arguing superstars. The

teenager nods and slowly slides up to the autograph station.

Cronos: How old are you, punk?

Kid: 13.

Stellar: Do you want to live to be 14?

The kid nods.

Cronos: Then get on to your mom before I come up over this table and…

The kid runs off toward his mom, prompting Rocky and Cronos to share a rare smile. Loco just shakes his head. Stellar sees

it and puts his arms up in an overexagerated shrug.

Stellar: What?

Loco: You two are here to make people smile…

Stellar: Really? You put us in a Grumpy Old Men of SHOOT Project booth then expect us to make people smile?

Loco looks legitimately pissed and slams down his hands on the table and through gritted teeth.

Loco: I expect this from HIM *points at Cronos*, but you KNOW what we’re trying to do here and you STILL try to undermine it? You’re pushing 50, grow up, dude.

Cronos: oooh, dad’s pissed.

Loco: Cram it. You two WILL sit here. Because one of you is trying to run a business, and the other really has nothing better to do, and THIS is better than the alternative. Ponies. Cotton Candy. Walking hand in hand with your fiance’! You can argue with each other, heck they probably expect that. So bicker away. Not with the customers…I mean, how did that make him feel? And NO Profanity! Can we do that ONE little thing?

Cronos: I’m pretty sure we made that kid shit his pants.

Loco: No more. Autographs. Sell a t-shirt. Take a picture. Or get out of this booth. We’ll take it down and I’ll tell the 20 people who’ve been waiting in line for 20 minutes that we cancelled cuz of incontinence.

Just as Rocky is about to speak up, a super hot blonde walks up to the booth looking at them both. They immediately turn

their attention to the blonde.

Blonde: I love older men. Which one of you is the oldest?

Stellar: I am.

Cronos: Like hell.

Contessa walks up behind the girl and taps her on the shoulder, while the blondes focus is on Cronos.

Contessa: He’s mine.

Stellar: YES!!!

Blonde: Then I’ll…

Contessa: He’s mine too. Threesomes are great. Get lost!

Stellar: WHAT??? Hell no… We’re not… I’m… she ain’t… I’ve never even spoken to her!!!

The blond, rather than getting into a cat fight, walks away.

Stellar: NOOO!!!! Come back? I wanna sign a boob!!!

The blond is out of ear shot, and Stellar snaps a look at Contessa.

Stellar: What the FUCK?!?!

Customers – and Loco – hear the swearing and turn their heads while also shielding the children’s ears.

Loco: ROCK!!

Stellar turns to him, while also seeing the people staring at him.

Stellar: Oh…um….

Loco: Apologize!!!

Stellar looks at him with a crinkled eyebrow, then turns to see the snickering Cronos and Contessa laughing. He lowers his

head, kicks the rocks on the ground, then mutters.

Stellar: I’m sorry.

Cronos is laughing so hard that he he is crying, and Stellar shoots him another look.

Stellar: I swear to God…I’m going to get even some day.

Cronos: HA HA HA HA HA….

Stellar sits down, fuming, while Cronos continues laughing, and Loco goes out to the peope waiting, and we hear him apologizing and continuing his carnival barking, as the next few people step into the tent, nervously.

The SHOOT-Tron fizzles to life with a single…solitary…image.

Eryk Masters: UH OH!

Other Guy: THEY’RE BAAAAAAAAAACK!!

SHOT DOOOOOOOOWN IN A BLAZE OF GLORY!

"Blaze of Glory" by Jon Bon Jovi kicks in as out from the back comes BUCK DRESDEN and CHARLES BRANDON MAGNUS…THE BAD ASS BROTHERHOOD! Magnus and Buck step out dressed in street clothes, the fans cheering at the sight of them. Buck wears a MASSIVE Bad Ass Brotherhood belt buckle with a white wifebeater tank top with an unbuttoned long sleeve plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He also has on faded denim jeans and cowboy boots. On his head? Naturally a brown desperado-style cowboy hat. On his shoulder is his SHOOT Project World Tag Team Championship belt.

Charles Brandon Magnus wears his dark brown hair slicked back, not pulled back into a ponytail but simply slicked back. He also has a white wifebeater with a black linen shirt unbuttoned with a matching pair of black lenin slacks and shiny black shoes. He also has a pair of Oakley Aviators on his face. On his shoulder is his SHOOT Project World Tag Team Championship. "Blaze of Glory" dies down as the fans slowly begin to chant for the champions.

B-A-B

B-A-B

B-A-B

Buck Dresden: God…DAMN, Charlie!

Buck grins.

Buck Dresden: Every single time they think they put us down…THE BAD…ASS…BROTHERHOOD KEEPS STANDIN’ UP!

The fans POP.

Buck Dresden: Before we came out here…we had it brought to our attention some interestin’ knowledge. One…we just became the longest reignin’ champions in SHOOT Project history…EVER.

The fans pop yet again!

Charles Brandon Magnus: Two? We are medically…CLEARED to wrestle!

The fans? Oh yeah. They love it.

Buck Dresden: That means what those two stupid sons of bitches thought they could do to us does NOT stop us!

Charles Brandon Magnus: It drives the both of us…each and every time we come out here…to put on the best show we can for YOU out here.

Cheers.

Charles Brandon Magnus: But what that means is that sometimes…sometimes we get hit with a little bit of hate. We wanted to face Corey Lazarus and Hiro Takawa in a match where we proved to each and every one of you out there watching us that we truly are the absolute BEST damn tag team in this business!

Buck sneers.

Buck Dresden: An’ what happens? What goes down fer us? We get hit with some serious bullshit, folks. We wanted to prove to the world why we deserve these here titles an’ those dumb ass Project:SCAR boys just come runnin’ in an’ RUINED our match.

Charles Brandon Magnus: Naturally…that sort of putrid and insipid invasion of our match proved to us that SHOOT Project, more than ever, needs us to beat the holy living HELL out of Adrian Corazon and Kenji Yamada!

The fans ERUPT!

Buck Dresden: An’ what else do we see? What’s that, on the horizon? Do we see Stellar Insanity out there?

Charles Brandon Magnus: No, Buck. That’s just some nosy old bluehairs who think we need or want them involved in our business.

Magnus fist bumps with Buck, who is laughing.

Buck Dresden: Corey, Hiro…it looks like our time will come soon enough. We will fight and we will decide, once and for all, which team deserves the right to be World Tag Team Champions. An’ when that day comes? Nobody…not Stellar Insanity, not the Gunslingers, not VAS, not even Project GAWD-DAMN SCAR will be able to…

The lights cut out suddenly. Immediately, the boos rain down.

Eryk Masters: Who the hell is that?! What’s going on?

A solitary room, the walls blood red in color. Hundreds upon hundreds of smiley faces corrupt the walls, each one drawn in black paint. Malformed grins that drip with tar, seeming to mock and jeer from all sides.

"Dead as can be…"

Corazon walks in this room, admiring his artwork. He’s shirtless, wearing only black pants. In his right hand he carries a homemade shiv, and he’s casually dragging the blade along the wall. Flash to Corazon decimating Magnus with the Act of Defiance.

"My doctor tells me."

He grins beneath the veil of his coal-black hair, a purely Inhuman grin. Flash to Corazon nailing Dresden on the side of his country-fried skull with a beautiful shining wizard.

"But I just can’t believe him."

A solitary room, the walls perfectly white. The ceiling is high, held up by ivory pillars. Flies circle lazily overhead, a cloud of pestilence. Maggots shower down like raindrops.

"Ever the optimistic one."

Entragian sits atop a throne of polished bone, his armrests human skulls laced through with a length of spinal cord. His hands are clasped between his knees, and they’re bloody. His chest is also bloody…and we see that the blood runs downs from his mouth.

"I’m sure of your ability."

His teeth sharpened like the cannibal pygmies of old, his smile is crimson-drenched death. He purses his lips, lightly blowing a bloody kiss towards the camera. Flash to Isaac holding Dresden while Corazon unleashes with strike after devastating strike.

"To become my perfect enemy."

A shot of The Badass Brotherhood holding the Tag Team Championships high, and then suddenly, they begin to rot before our eyes. Their bodies crumble down into putrid piles of sour meat, and the tag titles sink into pools of bile.

"Wake up and face me."

A solitary room, utterly dark, the confines stretching on for miles, totally fathomless depths. A cold wind blows, bringing with it a chill that’s bone-deep.

"Don’t play dead cause maybe…"

A candle flickers into life in the abyss, held in the hand of Yamada, the wax burning freely against his palm. His scars draped in shadow, he looks like something built from stitched patchwork. Those blue eyes shine, and the emptiness that dwells within them is nothing short of eternal. Flash to Kenji blasting Magnus in the face with a flying knee, and then we see Kenji mounting Magnus and smashing hammer-like blows into his face.

"Someday I will walk away and say…"

Kenji brings one gnarled finger to his lips in a SHHHH gesture, his vitiated face shining with beads of sweat. Flash to Corazon holding Magnus in a powerbomb position, and then we see Kenji leap off the turnbuckle and crush his knee into Magnus’s forehead.

"You disappoint me."

Kenji throws the candle into the darkness, and within seconds, a LAKE OF FIRE materializes in the void. The flames stretch on and on towards the dark horizon, hungry for a sacrifice.

Kenji places his hands behind his back, and when they emerge, he’s holding perfect replicas of the Tag Team Championships. He holds them high, mocking their prestige…then casually, he casts the titles into the fire.

"Maybe you’re better off this way…"

The shot focuses on the replica belts. The gold begins to melt down, the nameplates "Dresden" & "Magnus" start to char and blacken. The leather is ripe for the inferno; it curls up in submission as the fire scorches it.

The final shot shows the titles pulled from the fire, deformed chunks of gold and leather, the whole mess fused together into strange new shapes. Hideous and ashy, now nothing more than lumps of raw mineral and burnt animal hide.

They’ve finally become…beautiful.

FEED CUTS.

The lights come back on as Buck Dresden and Charles Brandon Magnus stare at the SHOOT-Tron. Both men are fuming as the boos rain down upon what they just saw.

Charles Brandon Magnus: You…arrogant…sons of BITCHES.

The fans ERUPT.

Charles Brandon Magnus: HOW DARE YOU.

Magnus is glaring HARD at the screen, his teeth gritted.

Charles Brandon Magnus: You arrogant bastards think for ONE second this is all about YOU?! What? You carve somebody up and that’s your hook? Air a video in the middle of what we have to say?! You don’t damn DESERVE a shot at these titles! What do you think? You can leap frog Frontline II TURBO or even Stellar INSANITY?!

Buck shakes his head.

Buck Dresden: Tell you boys what. You wanna fight us? You wanna keep fuckin’ with us? Sure enough, you two dumb asses….if it’s a fight you want? IT’S A FIGHT YOU GOT.

"Blaze of Glory" kicks back in as the Brotherhood hold their titles up, the fans RIPPING into cheers!

Eryk Masters: The gauntlet has been thrown down! I don’t know about those titles goin’ up for grabs, but one thing I DO know is that The Bad Ass Brotherhood wants to get their hands on Project:SCAR…and when they do, it’s gonna be HELL to pay!

The Brotherhood leaves the ringside area, SHOOT Project World Tag Team Championship belts on their shoulders. The two of them look ready to rip someone’s head off. They say nothing as they march out of the arena.

Samantha Coil: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall and it is part of the SIN CITY CHAMPIONSHIP SERIES! 

Eryk Masters: This is going to be an interesting match, we have one very small competitor in Maya versus a towering behemoth of a man in Thomas Manchester Black. Remember, ladies and gentlemen, that each match in the Sin City Championship Series will offer certain points depending on the outcome. 

Other Guy: That’s right, for every win via pinfall the winner will receive two points. For a disqualification victory, the winner will receive one point. Naturally, the loser gets a big goose egg for their points total. 

Eryk Masters: And we’ll be having a number of Sin City Championship Series matches leading up to the Master of the Mat pay per view, where the leading three point getters will compete for the Sin City Championship Series in a Triple Threat match. Since the reigning champion, Tanya Black, is currently in the Series herself, and all of her matches will have the Sin City Championship on the line, there’s no guarantee on who the Sin City Champion will be come Master of the Mat. But enough about those details, folks, we’ve got a highly anticipated David vs. Goliath match coming up here with Maya Nakashima vs. Thomas Manchester Black. 

Other Guy: That’s right, Eryk, and TNB is going really be looking to keep Maya grounded in this one, if Maya gets the match going at his pace then TNB is going to be hard pressed to keep up with both the speed and high flying capabilities of Maya. 

Eryk Masters: Did you just call him TNB? 

Other Guy: What? No, it’s TMB, Eryk. Get with it. 

Eryk Masters: Right…anyway. 

The lights die down and the electronic opening to “One Room Disco” by Perfume starts to resonate and beat through the arena. The tron pulsing with the opening beat with bright colors, the crowd anxiously rise to their feet, some even clapping with the tune. When the first lyrics sound, several pink spotlights search through the crowd, the entrance curtain surrounded by pulsing pink and white lights. Finally, Maya makes his way through the curtain to a loud ovation of fans cheering and chanting. Maya stands at the top of the entrance ramp for a moment, looking out at all the fans. He gently puts his hand on the bandana around his nose and makes his way to the ring. As Maya slides into the ring, the crowd starts a “MA-YA, MA-YA, MA-YA!” chant that seems to come as a surprise to the young man.   

Eryk Masters: It’s been a tough couple of weeks for young Maya. For whatever reason, X-Calibur has latched onto Maya and been trying to completely crush him. He’s been taunting Maya with the promise of helping him find his lost love Shinya. But these fans seem to still be firmly behind him, Maya has always tried to do right by the fans and I don’t think tonight will be any different.  

Other Guy: Well, Maya has a lot more to worry about than whatever happened to Shinya and whatever these people think. He needs to put the horrible tragedy that he survived in Japan behind him and really focus, because TMB is hungry for gold and seemingly willing to do anything to get it. 

“Ain’t No Rest For The Wicke” by Cage The Elephant starts up over the PA system, the crowd shows a somewhat mixed reaction to TMB. It’s mostly positive, but there is quite a smathering of boos that can be heard in the arena.

 

Eryk Masters: It seems a few people haven’t forgotten what transpired at Redemption. Agree with Truth’s methods or not, they were trying to help their friend Ichiro who just had his face savagely burned by that monster Kenji. TMB, with Trey Willet and Jamie Alejandro dressed as EMTs, destroyed Truth after their grueling match. Like vultures picking up the scraps. 

Samantha Coil: Now introducing from Tokyo, Japan by the way of his hometown, The Queen City…Charlotte , North Carolina…  

TMB comes out from behind the curtains wearing Black and White MMA shorts and boots. He tops that off by wearing a Grey North Carolina Tar Heels Hoodie with a towel over his head, his forearms and fists taped up. On his fist and forearm tape are the words “Dark Sinner”. Black doesn’t looks out from the hoodie as he walks toward the ring. He stops and cracks his knuckles before raising his hands in the air. 

TMB continues to make his way down the ramp way, soaking up the reaction from the crowd that are tossed his way. TMB makes his way up the steel steps and steps over the top rope and doesn’t even look at the ref as he makes his way to the middle of the ring. 

Samantha Coil: This is THOMAS MANCHESTER BLACK!  

TMB takes off his hoodie and tosses it to a ring hand, before slinking down into a sitting position in the corner. Black’s eyes remain focused as he waits for the match to begin. When the bell finally rings TMB makes his way to the center of the ring, Maya instead starts to circle around TMB instead of meeting him head on in the middle of the ring. Maya starts to move a little quicker, shuffling his feet around TMB, who tries to stay facing Maya. Maya keeps moving a little faster, at which point TMB tries to punch the air where he thinks Maya will shift to next, but Maya easily ducks under it and in one fluid motion pushes off forward and drives a knee hard into TMB’s gut. TMB stumbles to a knee, but Maya keeps moving and rebounds off the ropes grabbing TMB’s head and flipping him to the mat with a blockbuster! Maya immediately pops up and performs an amazing standing frontflip landing right on the chest of TMB! Maya hooks the legs for an early cover! 

1… 

2… 

TMB kicks out, pushing Maya into the air and off of him! Maya gets launched with such force that he actually lands manages to land on his feet in a crouched position and pops up only to drop a quick legdrop onto the neck of TMB! 

Eryk Masters: Maya’s athleticism is on a whole different level, he’s constantly moving and seemingly never wasting any motion. Even when TMB powered him off, he somehow had the where with all to land on his feet and stay on the offense.  

Other Guy: He might not be the straightest arrow outside the ring, but he sure is showing why he belongs in the Sin City Championship Series.  

Maya snaps off a straight kick to the neck of TMB before hitting the ropes again, TMB has just made it back up to a knee, desperate to shake the cobwebs from the last flurry. On the rebound, Maya leaps onto TMB’s shoulders and jumps straight up, curling both of his feet inward, then Maya thrusts both of his feet right into the temples of TMB! TMB is on his back again and Maya, not content to stand around, sprints to the ropes again and baseball slides right into the side of TMB’s skull! Maya with another cover! 

1… 

2… 

T…TMB kicks out! 

Eryk Masters: Another close call for TMB early on in this matchup. Maya’s speed has TMB so turned around that he can’t even get started on offense. I mean, we all knew Maya was going to take his speed to TMB but I don’t think any one expected Maya’s speed game to cripple TMB this much in the early goings. 

Other Guy: You have to wonder how long Maya can keep this pace up, though. If TMB can hang in there, Maya will eventually tire and slow down to the point where TMB can catch him…and if TMB gets those bear claws he calls hands on Maya…it could well spell the end of the match and a quick two points for TN…I mean, TMB. 

Maya looks to hit the ropes again…but he’s stopped in his tracks. He’s trying to run but his right leg won’t move, TMB, despite the fast paced offense Maya had just landed, had the presence of mind to grab Maya’s leg to stop him! Maya tries to kick TMB with his other leg, but his kicks are like mosquito bites to the much bigger TMB. TMB is slowly making his way to his feet, still with a death grip on Maya’s leg. Maya tries to throw a punch at TMB’s temple but TMB catches Maya’s fist with his other hand! TMB has both Maya’s right leg and left hand trapped! 

Eryk Masters: This isn’t good for Maya, he’s all tied up with nowhere to go. 

Other Guy: And here…we…go. 

TMB thrusts his knee right into Maya’s ribs, Maya tries to curl into pain but TMB keeps him standing since he has his hand and leg gripped onto firmly. TMB continues to SLAM his knees into both ribs of Maya who is wretching in pain, desperately trying to wriggle free of TMB’s grip. TMB simply shakes his head and throws a vicious headbutt right into Maya’s skull, Maya falls to the mat like a ton of bricks. TMB locks his arms around Maya’s waist and heaves Maya up like a ragdoll and flattens him back to the mat on the back of his head with a german suplex! TMB bridges for the pin! 

1… 

2… 

Th… Maya kicks out! 

Eryk Masters: This is what you were talking about earlier, OG, once TMB got a hold of Maya this match turned completely around. Now it’s the power of TMB that is just crushing the much smaller Maya.  

Other Guy: Which works best in TMB’s favor because his big frame can take a lot of punishment. He can take those quick strikes from Maya all day long. But, Maya can’t take these huge power moves from TMB for much longer or he’s going to have every bone in his body broken.  

After the pin, TMB doesn’t let go of Maya and instead drags him to his feet. TMB reaches his arms behind Maya’s head and locks in a Full Nelson submission! Maya’s face slowly starts to change to a red color as TMB pushes down on the back of his neck with all his strength. Maya, continues to writhe and squirm as much as he can to make it difficult for TMB to keep the hold on, but every time Maya squirms TMB shakes and rattles Maya from side to side to stop him. Maya’s face is a deep red color now, the fans start to chant for Maya, hoping it will urge him on. When Maya becomes somewhat unresponsive, Austin Linam reaches for Maya’s arm and lifts it… 

It drops once. 

The fans start to really pick up now with the chant, “MA-YA! MA-YA! MA-YA!”. 

Linam lifts Maya’s hand a second time. 

It drops. 

Linam lifts Maya’s hand once more and…Maya just manages to keep it from falling a third time. Linam pleads with Maya to stop, but Maya wearily shakes his head as the fans roar with approval.  

Eryk Masters: Maya putting it all on the line for these fans here and they’re letting him know they love him for it.  

Other Guy: Come on, at what point does it become too much? Look at his face, he looks like a fucking tomato. How much longer can he really endure this, he proved his point, he hung in there for a long time with a guy more than twice his size, we get it he’s a tough kid. Now let’s stop this before he gets seriously hurt.  

Maya lifts his arms straight up in the air, much to the surprise of TMB and manages to slip right out of the grasp of TMB! Maya doesn’t fall straight to the mat, he crumbles into a ball on his knees then pops up and…PELE KICK right to the skull of TMB! Both men are down and out now, Maya seemingly using his last burst of energy to get out of the full nelson and counter it. TMB is the first back to his feet, Maya is still trying to get back up to a knee. TMB grabs Maya and whips him to the ropes, TMB tries to jump up with a leaping knee strike, but Maya ducks under it and hits the ropes again, picking up an incredible amount of speed. TMB tries to take a wild swing at Maya, but he ducks that too. Maya is already running past TMB before he can turn around, and on the final rebound, with an insane amount of speed jumps onto TMB’s shoulders and rolls into a ball using all the momentum from how fast he was running to roll the much bigger TMB into a victory roll with such velocity that TMB’s skull crashes against the mat becoming a modified flipping piledriver! The crowd goes absolutely WILD after seeing such an amazing move at such incredible speed.  

Other Guy: Holy shit, what the fuck was that? All I saw was a pink and black blur from Maya’s tights zipping from rope to rope then TMB is flipping head over heels and I don’t even know how! 

Eryk Masters: Maya calls that move For Japan, he uses his incredible speed and the momentum gained from that speed to make up for the lack of muscle to flip his opponent! He’s going for the cover, this could be it! 

1… 

2… 

Thre…TMB kicks out! 

Maya rolls over onto his stomach, hands up against his forehead in frustration. He finally leans back, hands on his hips looking over at TMB and then looking out at the crowd cheering him on. Maya bounces back up to his feet and starts climbing the nearest turnbuckle. TMB, noticing this, manages to roll to the turnbuckles and grab hold of Maya’s feet, using what little strength he has left to keep Maya pinned to the top turnbuckle. TMB takes one hand off Maya’s right foot and strikes him in the gut trying to force him off the turnbuckle. Maya, however, absorbs the blow and grabs both top ropes at his side with his hands to keep his balance, pain obviously showing on his face from the heavy blow. TMB, seeing Maya grab both top ropes, lets go off Maya’s feet and starts chucking heavy elbow shots into the ribs of Maya. Maya takes every punch, wincing and gritting in obvious pain. TMB, almost smirking at this point, looks to land a haymaker…but Maya lets go of the ropes and literally jumps straight up to avoid the punch and land right back on the top turnbuckle! The crowd goes nuts as TMB is spun around away from Maya! Maya doesn’t waste the opportunity and plants both of his hands on TMB’s shoulders and handstands on TMB’s shoulders. Most fans know that Maya is setting up for the O.T.S but Maya is facing the wrong way, but while on TMB’s shoulders Maya shows his amazing athleticism and literally spins, alternating his hands on TMB’s shoulders like a gymnast and curls into a ball falling backwards bringing TMB down face first onto his knees! 

Eryk Masters: O.T.S! Ode to Shinya! HE GOT ALL OF IT! 

Other Guy: Wow…the setup to that…countering those heavy blows and spinning on TMB’s shoulder while in a handstand to get in position…COVER HIM MAYA! 

Maya uses the last of his strength to grab the near leg for good measure! The attendance on their feet watching with bated breath. 

1… 

2… 

THREE! 

The crowd ERUPTS for Maya as the bell rings! Maya falls off of TMB with his hands tightly gripped to his face, tears of joy streaming down his face as Linam helps prop him up to his feet and raise his hand high into the air. 

Samantha Coil: Here is your winner, earning two points for winning via pinfall in the SIN CITY CHAMPIONSHIP SERIES…MAYAAAAAA NAAAAKAAAASHIIIIIIMMMMAAAAAA!!! 

Maya wearily climbs the turnbuckle and points towards all the fans in attendance and nodding his head as they showed him with cheers. A majority of the fans still chanting his name. 

Eryk Masters: Simply amazing, this kid came out here and put everything on the line to pick up a huge win and earn two very important points in the Sin City Championship Series. Not to take anything away from TMB, who came ready to fight, but Maya, after everything he’s endured, really earned this victory. 

Other Guy: I gotta give him credit, he took every one of those heavy moves from a much bigger TMB like a man and never gave up. Damn impressive from such a small kid, damn impressive. But, it only gets harder from here on out, those were just the first two points, kiddo.  

The screen is black before faint cheering can be heard in the background. Nelly’s "Heart of a Champion" starts to play as various clips from the NCAA National Wrestling Championship are shown.   

The clips focus on a young man named Danny McCormick, who the SHOOT Project has come to know as Danny Corsair. The highlight clips show the entirety of Danny’s collegiate career, with a final shot of him holding the NCAA trophy high above his head with his teammates joyfully surrounding him. 

The video package slowly fades to Danny Corsair sitting in a blue metal folding chair wearing his old orange RIT hoodie. The music dies down and Danny slowly looks up towards the camera, pulling the hoodie back. He starts in with sign language which is translated into white lettering on the screen. 

My past victories mean nothing. 

The championship trophy that I won is useless to me here in SHOOT. 

I’ve fought and clawed my way through two matches here, but both times I came up short. 

They say I’m too inexperienced. 

Too young. 

No killer instinct. 

Danny stands up from the chair and folds it up, resting it between his arm and torso. 

Every match I get better, every match I learn more and more. 

I will do whatever it takes to make it in this business. I have to do this for me and my family, otherwise I’ll be left with absolutely nothing. 

Danny glances down at the chair underneath his arm. 

So if I have to do things that I normally would never dream of doing to succeed here, then I’m going to do them. If this is what SHOOT turns people into, consider me a Child of the Project. 

I’m winning the Sin City Championship Series. 

It’s time to shock the world.

Cut back to the ring, where some young woman stands, surrounded by massive cameras and furnature, strangely resembling that of one George Lopez. The woman, wearing her best black cocktail dress, puts the microphone to her mouth and smiles as she speaks. 

Unknown Woman: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my greatest pleasure, and for one lucky woman it could be yours, to introduce at this time, a two time Iron Fist Champion, a Sky High Tournament Champion, a Legacy Tao of Valor Champion, an OPW Cruiserweight Champion, an all state, super state and state champion High School baseball star, the eighth grade spelling bee champion and the man who shot, gutted and cooked his first buck at the young age of only five years old, your former, current and future Sexiest Man in SHOOT Project, and the man with a God sent path to the SHOOT Project World Championship, the host of your favorite talk show and mine. 

DAN! THE LIGHTS! STEEEIINNNNNN! 

The fans begin to boo outrageously at the mention of Stein’s accolades. 

Eryk Masters: Is it really over? 

Other Guy: And I thought Stein was long winded. 

As the crowd continues to rain down boos on the woman, the cords to the beginning of Aurasing’s “New Years Eve” begins to play over the PA system, along with a video clip of past Midnight Show clips, with more than a few glamour shots of Stein sprinkled in. 

OG: This song would be so much better if this guy wasn’t cool with the band. 

Finally, after a while of boos and a few cups being thrown into the ring, Stein steps out from the back, causing the fans to SHOWER him with hate. Stein walks out to the front of the stage, fixing his designer suit’s cufflinks, and tossing a few strands of hair from his forehead. Stein smirks briefly to the crowd before continuing down the ramp. Stein absolutely ignores everything on either side of him, his eyes, though relaxed, fixated on the ring.  

As he walks up the steps, the woman, as quick as she awkward can in high heels, runs to the ropes, sitting on the second and pushing the top up. Stein waits, impatiently as she struggles with the ropes, before ducking inside quickly. The woman steps out as Stein stands up. 

Eryk Masters: That entrance was longer than Mason Pierce’s match, OG. 

Dan Stein: That’s right, Ladies and Germs. My name is Dan Stein, and this is the Midnight Show, starring me, Dan Stein. 

OG: Who is this guy again? 

Erky Masters: Pretentious. 

OG: Right. Continue on. 

Stein looks over to the announce table, glaring at OG before continuing on. 

Dan Stein: Tonight’s Midnight Show is… a celebration. At Redemption, we saw the exciting return of a SHOOT Project living legend. A man that… truly redefined what it meant to be a SHOOT Project Soldier. This man has been through a lot in his long and storied career, and as I sat in my luxurious Las Vegas apartment, thinking to myself, ‘Self? Who would best connect to the seal beaters? Who would best know how to speak about this man to the igloo livers? The milked bag drinkers? Who better to emcee this ceremony… than me?’ 

So I will. It is my pleasure at this time to introduce to you one of the most influential men in SHOOT Project History, and TODAY… 

ME! 

A massive amount of confetti falls from the rafters, falling slowly to the ring. As Stein begins to become immersed in the confetti, the boos get louder and louder. Stein stands with his head towards the roof, arms outstretched, as if embracing the hate being spewed from the fans. Stein smirks to himself, looking out at the fans as a small group begin to chant something from the distance 

Dan Stein: Tonight we celebrate my victory over Azrael Goeren in the Master of the Mat tournament. We embrace the victory, we relive it… I’ve put together a little video package of my win, care to see it? 

Stein lowers the microphone as the chant picks up. 

We-Want-Car-Ver 

We-Want-Car-Ver 

Stein laughs to himself, rubbing his chin as he looks to the ground, kicking the baby blue confetti away from his feet as it slowly stops coming down from the ceiling.  

Dan Stein: Carver? You want… Del Carver? That washed up old hack or his quitter nephew? You want Diamond Del Carver, I take it. The Hardcore Outlaw? The Cyclops of the South? 

Stein puts a hand in one of his pockets, twirling the microphone around for a second as the crowd cheers. Stein chuckles. 

Dan Stein: Why? Don’t get me wrong here, Carver has done some pretty awesome stuff in SHOOT Project, and he gives all of you deformed freaks out there a role model – someone to really look up to. But… why Carver? That guy is geriatric. He’s so old, even Mary Magdalene turned his old man balls down. 

Nobody is afraid of Del Carver anymore. Nobody. They’re afraid for him. All this talk this week about Carver dying in the ring, am I the only one that is afraid it’ll actually happen? 

Why would you wish that on him? Why would you clamor for him, give him a false sense of hope that he could be something that he is not now, but what he once was? 

How can you look yourselves in the mirrors, go about your day with smiles on your faces, cheer for this man in this very ring, knowing each and every message board post you wrote, those countless letters sent to Jason and Josh Johnson, the tireless hours spent outside of the arenas, begging some naïve Projecteer to pass on the message, how can you live knowing that you were just doing all of those things to sign his death warrant? 

Stein stands in the middle of the ring, shaking his head. 

Dan Stein: Shameful. Shameful, selfish people, all of you. Not only do you want Del Carver’s blood all over Isaac’s hands, but you ruined my celebration. I hope you’re happy. Furthermore, I hope I do see your precious hero, and I hope I get my hands on the man in this Master of the Mat tournament before Isaac does. 

Or I may never get the chance. 

Del Carver is damn near 65 years old. I don’t care if he was abducted by a secret military agency and his bones were reinforced with steel, the man is about to break every bone in his body because of you all. Not for you, because of you. Me? I would’ve done it for you. I would given everything for you. My family, my career, my friends… 

Oh wait. I did do all of that. And still, you beg for someone else. 

Stein lowers the microphone. 

Dan Stein: I hate you. All of you. I hope you all burn in fiery car crashes on your way home, and your children are humiliated each and every day of their pathetic, overweight lives because of your ‘unfortunate’ passings, until they finally can’t stand it and… 

Stein mimics putting a gun into his mouth with his index and middle finger. 

Dan Stein: BLLAAAMMM! 

Stein yells into the camera, causing everything to go quiet. 

Dan Stein: Good night. Drive safe. 

He throws the microphone to the ground, causing static to echo through the arena. On his way out of the ring he shoves over one of the large cameras, and pushed down one of the camera men. Stein fixes his suit on the way up the ramp as the fans are left in an extreme state of shock. 

Eryk Masters: …wow. 

OG (softly): Ladies and Gentlemen, I just want to let you know that Stein’s words are that of his own, and we at the SHOOT Project do not wish any harm on you, or your children. An absolutely disgraceful display here by Dan Stein. 

Eryk Masters: That’s true, OG. But I think he meant it. 

Stein walks to the backstage area without looking around.

Eryk Masters:: Our next match is part of our Sin City Championship Series, and it is not want for ego.

Masters is cut off by the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s "Date with the night", which is met with boos as the Style Warrior, Curtis Rose steps out onto the rampway. He smirks cockily as he runs his fingers along the plexiglass shield he wears to protect his face.

Other Guy: You gotta take care of the money maker, Masters.

Eryk Masters:: If you’re that worried about your face and looks? Maybe combat sports isn’t the right line of work, for you.

Rose walks to the ring looking like he can’t stand the stench or look of the Vancouver crowd.

Samantha Coil: The following contest is set for one fall, and is part of the Sin City Championship Series. Making his way to the ring, first, from Palm Desert, California. The Style Warrior, CURTIS. ROOOOOOOOSE!!!!

He slides into the ring as the boos and music die down. The Tron is now a flapping French flag. And the boos are right back as Darth Vader’s famous breathing fills the arena as the opening high jinks to the song "Caballero" by Assassin pours over the audience in all its amazing French-ness.

Other Guy: I didn’t know the French could rap…

Soon thereafter, Jean-Gerard Baptiste appears on the entrance ramp, but something is not right. He is on crutches.

Eryk Masters:: Uh oh. What’s wrong with Baptiste?

Other Guy: Maybe he tweaked something playing tennis?

Baptiste stops on the ramp, and extends the crutches and hops in a circle showing off the long blue robe bedazzled with authentic looking gems. With his back turned to the capacity crowd we see the fleur de lis – a true symbol of excellence synonymous with Monsieur Baptiste- outlined in what appears to be diamonds while rubies fill the inside layers.

Eryk Masters:: I sincerely hope that "Monsieur" Baptiste has taken out insurance on that thing. If those are real diamonds… yeah.

Other Guy: Of course they’re real diamonds, E.

Eryk Masters:: You’ve never even SEEN a real diamond.

Finally turning around with his arms raised in a welcoming position, Baptiste stares out at the sea of Canadians that blindly boo his presence. Smiling, he hops his way down the ramp-way, but about half way switches and starts using his other leg, and making sure to not touch any extremities that are spread-out in hopes of touching someone.

Eryk Masters:: Well there is that. Its not an injury. He’s just using the crutches to keep the belief that he is, still in fact, legally in the Redemption Rumble… you know… the one that concluded over 2 weeks ago. That X-Calibur won.

Other Guy: The French aren’t known for their intellect, Eryk.

Awkward up steps with the crutches. Once he enters the ring, Monsieur Baptiste climbs to the second turnbuckle with his hands raised in the air. Then, in one breathtaking motion, he sheds the robe. He slides through the ropes, never once letting both feet touch the ground.

Samantha Coil: ANd his opponent, from Bordeaux, France. He is the Internation ICON. Jean. Gerard. BAAAAAPTIIIIIISTE!!!!

Handing the robe to one of the outside ring attendants, Monsieur Baptiste instructs the man to take it over to the time-keeper’s table with a profanity laced threat of physical violence if anything nefarious happens to the robe.

Eryk Masters:: Good god, Like the ring side assistant needs to be belittled like that?

Other Guy: That robe looks like its worth more than that guy’s annual salary. Hell it might be worth more than MINE!

Eryk Masters: That could be, OG. Scouting reports on these two. They like to keep things fast paced, and we could certainly see some high flying, but JGB has a distinct size advantage.

Austin Linam turns to the time keeper and calls for the bell. Once the bell rings, JGB smiles proudly and slowly places his other foot on the mat.

Other Guy: Haha! YES! The International Icon has gotten back into the SHOOT ring and is STILL in the Redemption Rumble! He’s officially the most iron man of iron men in any Rumble, anywhere… EVER!

Eryk Masters:: I don’t know who’s more hopeless right now, you or him.

JGB taps his temple in the "I’m so smart" method, as the crowd reigns their hatred upon the Frenchman. Curtis Rose sneers at his opponent through his plexiglass face protector. The two men begin circling one another. jaw jacking.

Other Guy: Wonder what they’re talking about.

Eryk Masters:: Which one is prettier… maybe exchanging moisturizer recommendations.

Rose slides in looking for a single leg, but Baptiste hops out of the way, cockily. Rose is up quickly and buries a leg kick into Baptiste’s thigh. Baptiste actually starts hopping trying to shake out the sting of the kick.

Eryk Masters:: Finally has a legit reason to hop!

Another wicked kick to the thigh. Rose then runs to the ropes, and jumps to the middle and launches himself backwards and twists into a high cross body that takes Baptiste down. He hooks a leg.

One

Tw-NO! Shoulders out with authority. Rose is up and back on the offensive. He buries a boot into Jean Gerard’s rib cage. As JGB starts getting up Rose quickly bounces off the ropes and hits a low drop kick to the forehead. He is up and hits a quick standing moonsault. Stays on for a lateral press.

One…

Two..-NO!

Eryk Master: Rose really taking it to Baptiste. His speed really giving the frenchman fits.

Other Guy: Don’t count the International Icon out, Eryk. If history has taught us ONE thing? Its that the French don’t quit.

Rose is back up, and he waits for Baptiste to get to his vertical base. One JGB is up, Rose charges, and is stopped cold with a thumb to the eye. Baptiste then takes Rose over with a snap mare and buries a kick between the shoulder blades, before walking to the ropes and stepping through, and hopping down to the outside to "take a powder", but making sure he lifts a leg.

Other Guy: Getting some rest, still in the Rumble.

Baptiste calls the ring attendant he admonished earlier over and snaps an order. The ring side assistant jumps to attention and comes back with a bottle of water. JGB takes a few thirsty chugs. Inside the ring Rose is back to his feet watching this, and shakes his head. he slides out and charges at Baptiste and goes for a drop kick to the knees, but JGB leaps over him, and then smiles broadly as he quickly rolls back in the ring.

Other Guy: That was close!

Eryk Masters:: Stop.

Other Guy: I’m just saying, if he HAS some sort of claim? Lets not stomp on his dreams. Plus.. you know.. everyone loves a good shitshow.

Eryk Masters:: Now THAT is a good point, partner.

Baptiste, back in the ring, puts both feet down. As Rose hops up to the ring apron he charges and knocks the Curtis off the apron with nice high drop kick. Rose falls to the floor with a thud. Baptiste takes this opportunity to extend his hands and sprint a lap around inside the ring as if he just scored the game winner of the World Cup. The crowd does not approve. Rose is up, and rubs at his masked jaw.

Other Guy: Rose not happy with the shot at his money maker. Even with the mask, you don’t want to risk it.

Rose slides into ring and is quickly met with two vicious stomps. Baptiste then drops a knee on the shoulder, before scooping him up and slamming him down with a body slam. Scoops him again, and plants him with a snapping DDT, and then runs to the corner and gets up to the top rope. He watches for Rose to stand, and once he does he launches himself back with a moonsault that catches Curtis. He grabs a leg after driving Rose into the mat.

One…

Two…

Th-NO! Curtis kicks out.

Eryk Masters:: An impressive athletic display from Baptiste!

Baptiste gets up and admonishes the referee, holding up 3 fingers. Ref shakes his head "no" countering with 2 fingers.

Other Guy: Jean-Gerard really losing his cool here.

Eryk Masters:: Who’d a thunk it… a guy like THIS coming unhinged when something doesn’t go his way!

Baptiste continues to make his case, and doesn’t see that Rose is back to his feet. Curtis comes up from behind an grabs him by the back of the neck and tights and runs him to the ropes to throw him over the top rope. He gets there and launches, sending Baptiste over the top rope, but Baptiste holds on and "skins the cat" bringing himself back to the ring. Rose, already preparing for that stayed put and quickly drops down and rolls Baptiste up. Throwing his legs up on the middle rope for added leverage.

One…

Two…

Thr-NO! Baptiste gets a shoulder up.

Eryk Masters:: We have Curtis Rose’s first short cut of the match.

Other Guy: You expected other wise from the guy who wears a face protector?

Now its Rose’s turn to get in the referee’s face, arguing a slow count. As he does he doesn’t notice Baptiste come up from behind. Grab a fist full of tights and roll him up. He really grabs the tights for leverage.

One…

Two…

Th-NO! Rose out at two and change. Baptiste merely shoots the ref a "death glare", instead of launching an all out verbal assault.

Eryk Masters:: Austin Linam doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Both men are up quick. Baptiste swings wildly with a clothesline, but Rose ducks it, kicks him in the knee, and then dumps him on his dome with a nasty DDT! Rose then looks to the corner. He takes off and jumps effortlessly to the top rope. He leaps dropping a super leg drop across Baptiste’s throat.

Other Guy: That could be it!

One…

Two…

Three- NO! We see Baptiste’s foot resting on the bottom rope. The referee notices this and Rose looks on indignantly. He shakes his head, and gets up and does a standing swan dive head but driving his mask protected face into the forehead of Baptiste.

Eryk Masters:: Using that mask as a weapon on someone like Baptiste doesn’t make me as irate as it normally would. In fact, I rather enjoyed that.

Rose pops back up and delivers the same move again. He’s up one more time and again. The crowd actually starts chanting "One More Time", but Rose waves them off dismissively, which immediately brings a chorus of boos.

Other Guy: This isn’t Burger King, they don’t get to "have it their way".

Rose goes to bring JGB up. As he gets to a knee, Baptiste winds up and drives a fist into Curtis’ gut. He hops up and drives a foot stomp to the top of Curtis’ right foot. Drives a knee back into the gut, doubling him over and following that up with vicious back rake.

Other Guy: I think he calls that "Raking the sand at Normandy"

Eryk Masters:: Stop.

Baptiste smiles proudly as he grabs Rose in a side headlock and takes off planting him with a running bulldog. He shoots a half and makes a cover.

One…

Two…

Th-NO! Rose gets a shoulder out.

Baptiste is up, brings Rose with him. Hooks him for his signature side russian leg sweep and attempts to drive Rose back.

Other Guy: Viva… La Revolution!

But Rose slides out of it and swings a hard low kick that takes Baptiste down. He runs to the ropes and leaps off with an Asai moonsault that connects. He brings a glassy eyed Baptiste up to a seated position, and bounces off the ropes and drives a nasty knee into the bridge of JGB’s nose. The crowd ooh’s at the impact as Baptiste slumps back to the mat.

Rose makes a quick cover.

One…

Two…

Th-NO!

Rose again sits JGB up, and again goes off the ropes. He nails a drop kick. He eyes up Baptiste’s location and heads for the top rope again.

Eryk Masters:: Looking to put it away, here.

He jumps to the top. Sites,and leaps backwards with a beautiful corkscrew moonsault…

Other Guy: Nobody HOME!

Baptiste rolls out of the way, meaning Curtis Rose crashed to the mat. Both men are down. The refere begins his 10 count.

1….

2….

3….

Baptiste stirs. Looks around. Sees Rose. He gets to a knee.

4….

Rose is also on a knee, clutching at his ribs.

5….

Baptiste shakes the cobwebs out and stalks Rose.

As Baptiste gets to Rose, Curtis senses him and whirls, and leaps snapping off a quick dropkick that rocks Baptiste up against the ropes. He grabs Baptiste’s wrist and goes to whip him off the ropes. Baptistes reverses. Baptiste ducks for a back body drop. Rose leap frogs, jumps to the middle rope looking for another turning cross body, but this time, Baptiste sees it coming. He catches him and swings him into his swinging Sideslam.

Other Guy: THE MAGNUM OPUS!

With Rose planted, Baptiste, exhaustedly lays his back across his chest. He scoops a leg with all his might. Nodding with each count.

One…

Two…

Three!!!

The bell sounds and Baptiste’s goes to his knees and screams with joy to the heavens above.

Samantha Coil: And you winner of this match, The International Icon, Jean. Girard. BAAAPPTTIIIISSSSTEEEEE!!!!

Eryk Masters:: Is this guy for real?

He jumps up in the middle of the ring like he just found out Scarlett Johanson is going to do full frontal. Tears welling up in his eyes as he directs the ring side crew member to bring him his crutches and his robe. he hops outside, never putting both feet down, and heads to the back.

Eryk Masters:: This display is ricockulous… you’d think he just won Cannes, while simultaneously delivering his first child.

The shot goes to a hallway in the back, where the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion is spotted walking. With a purposeful look in his eyes, Cade Sydal shifts the weight of the title belt on his shoulder before stopping in front of a door and staring at the nameplate on it for a long moment.

Tanya Black, Sin City Champion.

The fans in attendance cheer as they read the name, and with a slow breath Cade turns the knob of the door and pushes it open, walking right in with a suddenly broad grin as the Sin City Champion turns defensively toward the intrusion.

Tanya Black: Don’t you ever knock?!

Cade shakes his head.

Cade Sydal: Slows me down. I’m glad I found you here.

Tanya Black: It’s my locker room.

Cade ignores her words, and the incredulous look that accompanies them, as he continues on with what he was saying.

Cade Sydal: Because we need to have ourselves a talk about your future.

Tanya Black: My future is going to involve my foot up your ass if you don’t try a little courtesy. My rule about no backstage brawling has a "My Locker Room is Sacred" exception. Now unless you are replacing someone in this Sin City Championship Series or you want some "Champion vs Champion" special exhibition match, you have no business here. Unless you are going to apologize for the way Cassi spoke to me a Redemption?

Tanya makes a point of polishing the tip of her boot as she aims it for Cade’s rear. Cade only continues to smile at her, and even begins to laugh for a brief second before shaking his head.

Cade Sydal: That’s cute, but no I didn’t come to fight or to apologize for how she spoke to you. That’s between you too, which brings me to why I’m here Champ. I already told her this, and I only feel it’s right to tell you just the same. Whatever happens between me and you is strictly business, and whatever happens between me and her is incredibly personal. The truth is, that stunt with my credit card?

Cade shrugs his shoulders slightly as he continues on.

Cade Sydal: I was actually kind of amused by it. Not what I would have done with access to that kind of money, but to each her own, right? Right. Now, with all that said I’m happy you took back what you should have never lost in the first place. But you still have so much more potential.

Tanya Black: You are a true idiot. Seriously you are about to be out-hustled by the King Hustlers of SHOOT and you don’t even understand potential. Everyone has more potential. Those who think they have become the best they can be chain themselves down in a self-fulfilling prophecy. I get better with every match and I will make the Sin City Division something beautiful along with me. That is what being a champion is about, not calling yourself God’s Favorite.

Tanya stands up and smirks as she tosses a book at Cade who neatly catches it.

Tanya Black: If you are so childish that you can’t see your ego is holding you back then give X-Caliber the World Title and catch up on Harry Potter. I will never stop being more and you clearly have nothing to teach me.

Cade clicks his tongue in a "tsk tsk tsk" sort of way as he continues to smirk at the bold young woman.

Cade Sydal: I like your fire, kid. And where your head is at. But if you don’t think you can benefit from my teachings you’re out of your mind. Do you think I’m just some guy that preaches about it, but isn’t about it?

Tanya starts to respond, but Cade holds his hand up with a slight chuckle.

Cade Sydal: C’mon now, Miss Black, you should pay a little more attention to me. If you think I’m going to hand a title over to anyone, you’re sadly mistaken. And if you think that I don’t know that someday there will be someone that comes along to take it from me, you’re sadly mistaken. I know what I’ve gotten myself into as THE champion of this company…and by all rights that does make me the best for the record, and once this run is done I’ll gear up for another run.

Cade takes a step closer, and Tanya’s reflexes kick in as her hands move up into a defensive stance. Cade smirks, as he hands her the book instead, all so he could be a little closer and speak a little softer.

Cade Sydal: I’m not some bitch ass legend that wants to sit back and remember the glory days. I just celebrated my 29th birthday yesterday. I’m still in my fuckin’ prime, and as much as I’ve accomplished already I know for a fact I will accomplish even more. If you don’t think you can benefit from my teachings…from my knowledge? Well then, good luck trying to survive this place on your own. If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t too many people walking these halls alone. Think about it.

Cade turns to leave, but stops at the door and turns back around.

Cade Sydal: Oh, and Harry Potter? Not my scene, but good try.

With that Cade opens the door again and steps out as the shot fades.

TMB walks through the backstage area after his match.  He’s getting many high fives for his performance, and wishing him luck later on down the road.  Rounding the corner TMB is blindsided from behind by somebody.   TMB’s head is rammed into the wall several times before his assailant lets he fall to the ground.   When the camera focus in on whom it is.  It looks like “Jaime Alejandro”.

The person who seems to be “Alejandro” picks up TMB as he stirs and tries to fight back.   With a quick knee to the gut of TMB.   “Alejandro” picks him up and connects with his Serenity.  

“Alejandro” has a phone call come through as he picks the call up and hits the speaker phone.

Mystery Caller:  My dear Mister Black.  I have a message for you.  You see it seems Jaime has issues, and those issues stem from trust.  You two might be good friends and partners, but how well do you know him?  Just be careful and watch your back.   He’s one who seems to fail to remember, and keep promises.

With the phone hung up.  “Alejandro” drops the phone on TMB’s chest, and then promptly drives his boot into the phone and TMB’s chest.   With a wicked chuckle “Alejandro” walks off.

Samantha Coil:  This is the final match of the evening for the Sin City Championship Series! 

“Scream with Me” by Mudvayne plays over the sound system in Rogers Centre… 

Ever feel like dying,

Ever feel alone,

Ever feel like crying,

Lost child in a store… 

Jaime Alejandro slowly walks out of the back.  You can tell he’s still feeling the effects of the chair shots, but he’s not going to sit this one out.  He goes down to one knee and circles the floor with his fingers. 

Eryk Masters:  We saw Jaime take those vicious chair shots from a mystery man in the back.  How’s he still out here?!! 

Other Guy:  As much as I’d rag on Jaime, sometimes…  He’s got more guts than brains on occasion.  But like he and Crippler said in their vids, they’re coming out here for the peeps that buy the tickets. 

Ever feel life pushing,

Shoving you away,

Ever feel like breaking down,

Funeral in the rain

Feel like slipping away… 

He stands up, puts up his hands around his mouth and yells, “LET’S ROCK!”  As he punches the towards the camera, the blue pyro shot comes out! 

Other Guy:  Air Raid! 

Eryk Masters:  I’m sure the people that were asleep at home aren’t anymore! 

Stand in the corner and scream with me!

A body full of empty,

A head that’s full of rage,

Better believe it… 

He walks to the ring and slaps the hands on his way down to the apron.  You see his light blue shirt as the camera comes into focus.  It says  “MILK AND COOKIES” and shows a picture of a glass of milk with a plate of cookies. 

Stand in the closet and scream with me!

A mind that’s like a fire,

Driven by the pain,

Better believe it… 

He moves up to the apron and springs himself into the ring quickly and moves onto the top turnbuckle quickly.  Then he stretches his arms out and watches as the flash bulbs go off all over the arena. 

Samantha Coil:  Introducing first, from Mexico City, D.F. Mexico.  He comes in at six foot four, and two hundred eighty five pounds.  He is JAIME ALEJANDRO! 

Jaime moves to look at the crowd, opposite the camera.  The back of his shirt shows “EQUALS 20 MINUTES OF TORTURE” with a picture of Laura Seton putting someone in The Cookie Cutter. 

Eryk Masters:  A bit of an inside story, OG.  Laura actually didn’t have a shirt for the guys.  So, she asked the SHOOT marketing guys about this and managed to twist the big guy’s arm to wear the shirt. 

Other Guy:  That took a batting of the eyelashes, then? 

Eryk Masters:  Probably, but why not have Jaime wear it to get the sales? 

Other Guy:  Point taken, actually.  She might’ve gotten more sales if Hierarchy wore it, though. 

Eryk Masters:  I seriously doubt that, OG 

As they talk, “I Wupped Batman’s Ass” by Wesley Willis comes out over the speakers. 

Batman got on my nerves

He was running me amok

He ridiculed me calling me a bum 

Lunatikk Crippler comes out of the Gorilla Position with a new Crippler shirt for 20.99 at shoot merchandise.com.  It shows a picture of him putting Batman in Bitchified.  He looks down at the ring and smiles at his opponent. 

Eryk Masters:  For those of you who thought we were going to have a serious match…  Might want to just throw that thought out the window. 

Other Guy:  This guy have a serious match?!!  The only serious part is the headache and backache that Jaime has right now. 

I wupped Batman’s ass

I wupped Batman’s ass

I wupped Batman’s ass

I wupped Batman’s ass

I wupped Batman’s ass

I wupped Batman’s ass 

Other Guy:  This is the goofiest song I’ve ever heard, E. 

Eryk Masters:  You should hear the rest of Wesley Willis’ hits… 

He’s slapping a few hands of his own as the crowd sings along to this goofy song, for some reason.  He slides under the ring and goes right up to Jaime and gets nose to nose with him.  Willie Dean has to get between them. 

Samantha Coil:  His opponent, from South Bend, Indiana.  He comes in at six foot one and two hundred and thirty-eight pounds.  He is LUNATIKK CRIPPLER! 

Jaime pulls off his shirt and throws it back to the crowd.  As he does, the crowd fights to catch the shirt.  Not to be outdone, Crippler throws his shirt out into the crowd, also.  Same response from the crowd for his shirt. 

Eryk Masters:  Dueling shirt throwing.  Either this was planned, or Crippler’s ready to screw with Jaime. 

Other Guy:  He might not want to make a habit of it.  Jaime’s got three inches and almost fifty pounds on him.  He could throw that goofball around the ring, if he wanted to. 

Eryk Masters:  Which means, Crippler might have to use actual wrestling skills to take him down.  Whether he will, that’s another matter… 

Willie Dean is probably evaluating his decision to quit drinking around this point, as he sees Crippler trying to roll and stretch his wrists.  Crippler is grinning from ear to ear.  Jaime’s trying to get his back loosened up from the three chair shots he received. 

Eryk Masters:  For those at home who don’t know who is who.  The guy with the slicked back black hair in the blue trunks is Jaime Alejandro.  The guy with the long hair and black long tights is Lunatikk Crippler. 

Other Guy:  Or in other terms, the guy actually wrestling is Jaime.  The other guy fucking around is Crippler. 

Eryk Masters:  Pretty much. 

Willie Dean gives the signal to ring the bell.  As he does, Crippler shoots out the corner and runs around the ring like a dervish.  As he does for some reason, he’s sounding out the Mario Bros. theme. 

Other Guy:  What did we sign up for again? 

Eryk Masters:  Jaime’s wondering that at the moment, too. 

Jaime catches Crippler and pulls him down by his hair.  This ends the singing, at least for now.  He pulls up the crazy man and gets him into a headlock.  However, this doesn’t go to plan as Crippler pushes him out to the ropes.  Jaime goes towards the camera and bounces off.  Luna ducks under and Jaime moves over.  Then Crippler runs off the perpendicular ropes. 

Eryk Masters:  This is rare…  Crippler using the Langolier style of British Wrestling to throw Jaime off. 

Other Guy:  The problem is, it throws everyone else off, too… 

Jaime comes back to the middle and Crippler jumps out in front of him. 

Crippler:  STOP! 

Jaime:  WHAT?!! 

Crippler:  LOOK UP!J 

Jaime looks up and SLAP! 

Other Guy:  What the hell just happened here? 

Eryk Masters:  I don’t know, either… 

Jaime shakes his head, as he picks up Crippler and throws him over to the corner.  The big man moves over and fires a series of shots to Crippler’s gut.  As he does, the Whole Fucked Up Show starts laughing.  Jaime keeps punching, he keeps laughing.  Tiring of the laughing, Jaime gives a hard knife edge chop to Crippler’s chest. 

WOOOOOOOO 

Crippler moves out of the corner and yells. 

Crippler:  THAT HURT, ASSHOLE! 

Eryk Masters:  You wonder, how much patience does Jaime have right now. 

Other Guy:  I think his patience ran out after the bell rang.  It’s only a matter of time before he just snaps. 

Crippler slips with the foot and nails Jaime right in the balls.  Of course, Dean isn’t able to see the shot, as it was out of his view.  He then puts Jaime into a side headlock and wrenches it in tightly.  From here he’s looking to keep Jaime on his toes.  From here, another push to the ropes.  Jaime goes to the camera, and Crippler goes to the opposite ropes.  The perpendicular running of the ropes results in, Jaime stopping Crippler… 

Jaime:  WAIT. 

Crippler: Yes… 

Jaime:  LOOK UP! 

Crippler slaps Jaime again.  Jaime returns with a backhand chop. 

Crippler:  THAT STILL HURTS, ASSHOLE! 

Other Guy:  I think that backhand chop just disguised the fact that Jaime’s snapped. 

Eryk Masters:  I thought he was medicated…. 

Other Guy:  You think medications work when you’re facing an opponent that nuts? 

Crippler is holding his chest from the pain of being chopped, yet again.  Jaime goes up to him and puts him back into a headlock.  Yet again, Crippler pushes off of Jaime and moves him to the ropes.  The F’d Up show moves to the ropes.  Jaime stops him again. 

Crippler:  Dude, you know I’m gonna slap you again, right? 

Jaime:  I’m going to chop you again, if you do. 

Crippler:  Why do you have to chop me, that hurts! 

Jaime:  It’s a wrestling match.  You know…  Fight, pinfall or submission.  Arm raised.  Points in tournament. 

Crippler:  LOOK UP! 

Jaime looks up.  SLAP! 

Jaime:  MOTHER FUCKER SON OF A FUCKING WHORE!  I CAN’T BELIEVE I FELL FOR THAT SHIT AGAIN!  YOU SKULL…. 

Crippler:  Whoa!  Just Whoa!  I mean Whoa! 

Jaime:  WHAT?!! 

Crippler:  There’s kids watching, shithead! 

Jaime:  They should be in bed for school tomorrow! 

Crippler:  Not my kids. 

Jaime: You don’t have kids… 

Crippler:  Yes I do… 

Jaime delivers a hard backhand chop to Crippler’s chest.  He turns around and screams in Jaime’s face. 

Crippler:  GODDAMN IT, JAY!  THAT FUCKING HURT! 

Jaime delivers another chop to Crippler.  Our favorite Lunatikk delivers a return chop.  Jaime fires another.  Crippler returns another.  Jaime then starts delivering a series of machine gun like chops to the chest of his opponent. 

Eryk Masters:  I think he’s pissed… 

Other Guy:  No kidding, E!  Next you’re going to realize that he’s also lost his patience about five minutes ago, and that Crippler’s chest is probably hamburger by now. 

Jaime whips Crippler to the ropes hard.  The Whole Fucked up Show comes back around for a waiting Alejandro, who lifts him up and brings him down hard! 

SHOTGUN! 

Eryk Masters:  We haven’t seen that since NAFW.  The sidewalk slam that Jaime brings down with violent force on Crippler. 

Other Guy:  Vintage Jaime! 

Eryk Masters:  OG, don’t ever say that again. If you sound like that tool, I’ll slap you. 

Jaime goes for the pin! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

Crippler kicks out of the pin and slams his fists against the mat.  He looks pissed off at everyone in the ring, but instead of going after Jaime…  He pins Willie Dean?!!  Crippler has him rolled up in a school boy! 

Eryk Masters:  What the hell?!! 

Other Guy:  He did this again?!! 

Crippler is looking at Jaime.  Jaime’s staring at  this predicament.  Dean is yelling at Crippler to get off of him.  Jaime just shrugs his shoulders and goes to the mat. 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THREE! 

Crippler gets off of Dean and celebrates his “victory.”  As he does, Jaime raises his arm mockingly.  The crowd is a mixed of stunned and in fits of laughter.  But then… 

Other Guy:  Does anyone feel a Shanghai coming… 

Jaime puts the arm down and nails Crippler with a vicious short arm lariat.   The Lunatikk goes down to the mat hard.  As he does, Jaime stops down on his chest.  His opponent tries to move around to avoid the stomps, but Alejandro is directly on target.  Jaime’s stomps keep hitting Crippler mercilessly.  As he settles down, he picks up the limp opponent and vaults him over for a snap suplex.  Then, pulls him back up for another one.  Then, another roll and another suplex! 

Other Guy:  THREE AMIGOS! 

Eryk Masters:  I think Crippler had his fun.  But Jaime’s not amused anymore. 

Jaime pushes off of Crippler and looks up.  He lets out the loudest primal scream we’ve ever heard. 

Other Guy:  Uh oh… 

Eryk Masters:  If anyone in the back is listening, send EMTs now. 

Alejandro pulls up Crippler by his hair and gets him standing, somewhat.  Then, he spies a corner and whips his opponent so hard that he goes to the ground.  As he does, Crippler eats the corner with full force.  He springs back and goes to the ground holding his chest.   Jaime kips up and breathes in heavier.  The camera gets a glimpse of a slightly crazed look. 

Eryk Masters:  Again, anyone in the back listening.  EMTs now! 

Other Guy:  And maybe a coroner.  One of these guys is not going to be in good shape at the end of this match.  Because I don’t know when Crippler’s going to snap! 

Jaime picks up his opponent and pushes him back first into the corner.   He makes sure to wrap the arms over the ropes.  Dean moves over and yells at Jaime.  Jaime ignores him and pushes him over to the side. 

Jaime:  VIOLENCE PARTY!!! 

He fires a series of machine gun back hand chops into Crippler.  Then starts alternating the chops with back elbows.  After that, he throws in a series of right hands to his opponent’s jaw.  Each blow, however, Crippler is also getting angrier.  Jaime throws another overhand right, which the Whole Fucked Up Show catches! 

Crippler:  MY TURN, BITCH! 

Crippler punches Jaime in the nuts and throws him into the corner.  He starts with his own series of rights and lefts to Jaime’s midsection.  Then, he moves to a knee and drops the shoulder into the stomach.  Alejandro coughs up whatever was left in his system, as Crippler unloads shoulder rams mercilessly., 

Eryk Masters:  I think we can officially say that the fun and games are over… 

Other Guy:  No kidding… 

He pulls Jaime out and drops him with a reverse STO.  Alejandro is seemingly out for the count, as Crippler rolls him over. 

ONE! 

TWO! 

KICKOUT! 

Eryk Masters:  Did you just see that one.  It was almost lights out for Jaime. 

Other Guy:  Crippler with a vicious reverse STO from the corner.  Seems he’s also ready to win this match. 

He pulls up Jaime from the mat and tries to deck his opponent with a hard right.  Jaime catches Crippler with an Exploder suplex into the turnbuckle.   The Whole Fucked Up Show now has a fucked up back.  He realizes that his opponent is now in the Tree of Woe.  Jaime runs to the ropes and comes back with a boot to Crippler’s skull.  Our favorite Lunatikk then rolls down onto the mat in a crumple. 

Jaime attempts to pick up Crippler, but the crazy one puts in a good shot to the midsection and whips Alejandro to the ropes.  He cranks himself against the ropes and meets Jaime in the middle with… 

Eryk Masters:  BLOOD DRIVE! 

Other Guy:  Jaime got speared into next week! 

From here, Crippler pulls Jaime over to the middle of the ring.  He locks in the left arm between the knees and cranks on the high angle chinlock! 

Other Guy:  BITCHIFIED! 

Eryk Masters:  Crippler’s modified crossface.  Jaime’s not in a good spot right now, either… 

Jaime is reaching for all he can for a rope, but Crippler locks it in harder.  From here, there’s not much choice. 

TAP! 

Eryk Masters:  Jaime tapped out! 

Other Guy:  Holy shit!  Crippler just pulled off a rarity.  Very few people can say they made Jaime Alejandro tap! 

Samantha Coil:  Here is your winner, by submission!  LUNATIKK CRIPPLER! 

Ending segment, no matter the result. 

Out from the back steps an unfamiliar face. His hair is long, shoulder length, parted in the middle and covers up some of his face. He’s dressed in all black. There’s no music, no fireworks, just a man and a microphone.

????: Crippler… *the name echoes throughout the arena*

And the mysterious man drops the microphone and hits with a loud ‘THUD’. He smiles ever so slightly and walks into the back.

With everyone distracted from the commotion at the top of the ramp, a man with black studded pants and black hoodie comes out from the crowd.  He rolls into the ring and pushes Crippler to the side.  He tries to pick up Jaime, at first, but Dean stops him.  The man punches the ref! 

Eryk Masters:  What the hell? 

Other Guy:  That’s a fine on whoever that guy is! 

He then launches Dean, shoulder first, into the turnbuckle.  The ref crumples up easily.  He’s moaning audibly, as he tries to dislodge himself from his situation. 

Other Guy:  Jason Johnson is probably going nuts right now! 

He then looks at the crowd and makes the motion of going to sleep. 

Eryk Masters:  What’s he going to do now?!! 

He moves to his knees and puts Jaime up on his shoulders.  Then, he stands up with a bit of difficulty.  As a show for the crowd, he spins him around for all to see. 

Other Guy:  Whoever this guy is, he’s got Jaime up like a rag doll! 

He pushes off and drives a knee straight into Jaime’s skull! 

???:  GO TO SLEEP, BITCH!!! 

The veteran slams into the mat hard from the impact.  The camera zooms in on his forehead bleeding.  Jaime, for all intents and purposes, is motionless. 

Eryk Masters:  Oh my god.   Jaime’s bleeding profusely. 

Other Guy:  Not only is that guy going to pay fines…  When he wakes up, he’s a dead man. 

Then he pulls off the hood, and shows his face.  It’s CRAZY BOY! 

Crazy Boy:  Buenos noches, maricon! 

He then spits on Jaime, as the crowd is stunned at what they see… 

Other Guy:  Jaime’s own student…  That’s just cold, E… 

Eryk Masters:  You’re right, OG.  When Jaime wakes up, Tyrone Smith’s days are marked…

“And you know that I’ve come to collect!”

A voice shouts out, as the arena goes black as the crowd EXPLODES!!

Eryk Masters: Oh man, I LOVE this song.  You know who this means, too!

Soon, a high tempo metal beat kicks in, and a guitar picks up.  Killer drums follow!

“This man came to me he was looking for action!

Pulling a blade to my neck”

Images of Jonas Coleman take over the PA, where various shots of him in various modes of violence show, all from his complete decimation of Akuma Satsui.  The crowd comes alive!

Other Guy: I think the Butcher has something on his mind!

“He said, ‘Call me THE BUTCHER cause that’s my trade

And you know that I’ve come to collect.”

White strobes begin flashing over the arena, and then return to the rhythm of the music, as the crowd begins to clap along with it, rocking along with the beat!  Jonas takes the top of the ramp, and raises his arms to the excitement of the fans.  He continues down the ramp, very focused, and as he rolls into the ring, Mark Kendrick tosses him a microphone.  

Jonas Coleman:  Guys…

The crowd pops.

Jonas Coleman:  Heh…  guys, I got my ass kicked by the World Heavyweight Champion last week!

Some members of the audience laugh, and the rest give him another pop.  

Jonas Coleman:  I don’t know if you guys REMEMBER or not, but I don’t take getting my ASS kicked very well!  I’m NOT a big fan of being blindsided, dropped, and then discarded like Monday morning’s trash, and when that happens?  WHEN THAT HAPPENS?  

He pauses.

Jonas Coleman:  The Butcher comes to collect.  So.   I’ll make this simple.  Real easy.

Coleman stops and turns towards the entryway.  

Jonas Coleman:  CADE SYDAL.  WORLD CHAMPION.  GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE.

He stops again.

Jonas Coleman:  NOW.

Eryk Masters: He’s not wasting any time, OG!

Other Guy: Do you really think this is the best idea though? Does HE really think it is?

After a few short seconds of Jonas staring at the entry way, before…

I can almost taste it…

The lights drop and the fans begin to boo, though most are buzzing in anticipation for a fight.

Eryk Masters: We’re about to find out!

It makes no sense to me…

What does it all mean?!

A spotlight slowly comes to a stop on the top of the ramp, and then…

Jonas Coleman: CUT THAT SHIT OFF! No bullshit, just come out here…NOW!

The music fades out just as quickly as demanded. After a few more seconds, Cade Sydal slowly walks out, his hand locked with Cassi’s as the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Title rests comfortably on his left shoulder and he carries a microphone in his right hand. Cade mock pouts at Jonas from the top of the ramp.

Cade Sydal: Jo…Jo…Jonas. I heard you, calling my name. And then you interrupt my entrance with your "me so angry" ness,it’s just…well, I can tell you’re a little agitated at what happened last week, huh?

Cade starts to walk down the ramp, unlocking his hand from Cassi’s, he slowly slides the belt off his shoulder and hands it to her and leaves her at the top of the ramp.

Cade Sydal: And I bet you’d feel a whole hell of a lot better if I came all the way down, and stepped inside that ring, and let you try and get the vengeance you probably feel is owed to you. But that’s not what’s going to happen right now, JoCo. Can I call you JoCo, is that cool, or are we not friends like that? Ya know what, don’t answer that, it’s not important.

Cade continues his slow walk down the ramp, staring at Jonas the whole time.

Cade Sydal: What is important is what I’m about to tell you. What happened last week? Well, that wasn’t anything personal. In fact, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fact is…whatever beef you’ve got with X? You need to let that go, he’s my problem now. Not yours, not any more. And that’s precisely why I came out last week and stopped you from getting in the ring with him.

He finally makes it to the bottom of the ramp and stops.

Cade Sydal: ‘Cause if anyone is going to fight him, it’s going to be me. I’ve waited a very, very long time for this, and I am by no means a patient man so you’ve gotta understand just how difficult waiting has been for me. I couldn’t allow you to fuck it up for me, and that’s all there is to it, JoCo. But hey, you’ve been a good sport and heard everything I had to say…even if your rude ass cut off my entrance of amazingness; it’s cool, I understand not everyone was raised with manners. So with that in mind, why don’t you go ahead and say what you came all the way out here to say.

Cade steps toward the ring and grabs the middle rope, using it as he pulls himself up onto the ring apron before he steps through the ropes to look Jonas relatively in the eye, though making sure to be on the other side of the ring.

Jonas Coleman:  Look motherfucker…  

The crowd pops at the obvious defiance and hint of defiance to come!

Jonas Coleman:  What you did just doesn’t get “let go,” got me, chief?  Can I call you chief?  Or…  are we not friends like that?

Cade shows a visible sigh, as Jonas continues.

Jonas Coleman:  I had a feeling you were going to talk about shit not being personal, and just being business, and all that.  That’s kinda what you do, and kinda how you try and weasel out of shit, right?  Cuz it’s NEEEEVER personal, and it’s ALLLLLWAYS business.  Frankly, dude?  I don’t give a fuck what you’ve got going on with X either.  I don’t give a fuck that he won the Rumble.  

Jonas smiles.

Jonas Coleman:  I just don’t, but I DO kind of understand now how guys like Ben Jackman feel.  You’re REALLY infuriating.  

He brushes his hair out of his face before continuing.

Jonas Coleman:  You see, Cade, when you kick someone in the fucking head?  I don’t care WHAT business you’re in, that makes shit personal.  Then, having the balls to tell me who and what my focus and problems should be? 

Jonas stops.

Jonas Coleman:  Motherfucker, have you WATCHED me?  I just made my WHOLE NAME off of getting involved in shit I had NO business being involved in.  You’re not ANY different than that.  You weigh a LOT less and your manager is WAY sexier, but other than that?  Not a whole lot of difference to be made here.  So, here’s the scoop.  

He paces the ring for a moment, listening to the clamor of the crowd, before continuing.

Jonas Coleman:  Some people in this business are motivated by greed and gold.  Others, they want to stand for something a bit more than that.  Something a bit less tangible, and a bit more symbolic.  So here’s what I want.  I… want… to fight… YOU.  

He pauses, and the crowd gets LOUD.

Jonas Coleman:  I’d LIKE to fight you right fucking now, but I’m KINDA getting the impression that shit isn’t going to work out that way.  So, I don’t care when.  I don’t care if it’s now, if it’s next week, if it’s two weeks from now, if it’s an hour after the show…  

He stops again.

Jonas Coleman:  You get the point.  You and I?  We’re gonna do some business together, mmkay?  And if you’ve got the sack for it?  All you gotta do is–

BAM!  Out of NOWHERE, X-Calibur slides under the bottom rope and blindsides Jonas with a running Yakuza kick to the back of his head!

Eryk Masters: That dirty son of a bitch!  Where did he come from?!

Other Guy: I think he hopped the guard rail!

As Jonas goes down face first, X pounces on top of him with stiff shots to the temple and back of the head.  Not giving Jonas the opportunity to stand up, X drops a knee to the back of his head. And another. And another. And ANOTHER.

Eryk Masters: Good LORD! X is a man possessed!!

Other Guy: I doubt Jonas even knows what hit him!

Not even cognizant to who hit or how it happened, Jonas instinctively tries to pick himself up off of the mat – like a car crash victim prying himself out of his seatbelt. But the more Jonas tries to resist and pick himself up, the more vicious X becomes. Grabbing him by the back of his head, X violently rips Jonas up to his feet, pulling up underneath his chin.

Eryk Masters: Look at Cade, he’s not doing a damn thing about this!

Other Guy: Seriously, Eryk?!  Why should he?!  You think Cade gives a damn about what happens to Jonas?  Like he said, he’s been patiently waiting to fight X for a long time now  something like two years – and Jonas wants to stick his nose in their business?  I bet Cade is hoping X ends his career right here!

 

Wrapping his arm around Jonas’ head in a three-quarter neck-lock, THE REDEEMER points down to the entrance ramp at Cade… and SPIKES Jonas’ head into the canvas with an X-Terminator.

Eryk Masters: NO! Oh my GOD!  X-Terminator from HELL right there!

Other Guy: He might’ve killed him there. That was… that was BEYOND sick.

Remaining on his knees, he waits for the ever-resilient Butcher to get back up. Arms open. Fingers waving up and down in anticipation for his prey.  

But time goes on, and Jonas remains on the mat. Unmoving. Smirking, X stands up straight again and looks back down at Cade.

Just as he throws a leg over the second rope and bends down to exit, Jonas begins picking himself up off of the mat.  X’s smirk fades and he stops right in between the ropes.

Eryk Masters: I… I just don’t know how the hell this guy is even still ALIVE after that sick X-Terminator, never mind trying to get up!

Other Guy: I don’t even think he knows where he is.  Look at his eyes.  They’re glossed over.

Whatever strength of mind Jonas has left, it seems to be propelling him to his feet.  X simply shakes his head in disgust at the young man.

X-Calibur: DON’T DO IT, KID!

As Jonas strains to try and get up, X stands in front of him, looking down.

X-Calibur: STAY THE FUCK DOWN, OR THIS GETS WORSE!!

For the slightest of moments, Jonas’ lips curl into a smile.  As the SHOOTtron captures this, the fans go CRAZY for The Butcher… but their elation is short-lived as X-Calibur drops to the mat and applies his deadly gogoplata submission.

Eryk Masters: BITE OF THE BASILISK!  SOMEONE STOP THIS!  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

Other Guy: Oh my God… X’s eyes.  That’s one cold son of a bitch right there, folks.

SCREAMING at Jonas, X chokes the life out of the Butcher like a boa constrictor; his eyes coldly piercing like a… Great Basilisk.  Jonas remains unmoving, his face turning a dark shade of red as the blood vessels begin bursting in his face.  As Cade stands atop the ramp, security personnel begins emptying from the back, and as soon as they hit the ring, X releases the hold and slithers out of the ring.  

His pupils level with the ring apron, he stares right through the unconscious body of the Butcher, and right into the eyes of the World Champion.  

The bell rings, bringing to the fans’ attention Samantha Coil.  She stands alone in the center of the ring, a large grin on her face. 

Samantha Coil:  The following is the FINAL Master of the Mat Qualifying Match…and is YOUR MAIN EVENT…OF THE EVENING! 

The fans cheer as their attention is brought to the stage. 

ALL OF THE LIGHTS

The fans POP as “All of the Lights”  by Kanye West kicks in.  The arena is bathed in black as a lone man stands at the entrance, smoke surrounding him. 

Turn up the lights in here, baby

Extra bright I want y’all to see this

Turn up the lights in here, baby

You know what I need

Want you to see everything

Want you to see ALL OF THE LIGHTS! 

The arena EXPLODES in BRIGHT light as DONOVAN KING holds his arms out, screaming to the fans as they cheer.  He slaps his chest and slaps a few hands as he walks down to the ring, wearing completely white ring gear, a single green crown on the back of his trunks and kneepads, KING written in green on the sides of his boots.  He slides into the ring and leaps up to the middle rope, still slapping his chest as he points to the fans in attendance.  “All of the Lights” dies out as he slides from the ring, watching intently. 

Suddenly, “If You Want Blood”  by AC/DC kicks in and the fans go…INSANE.  Standing at the entrance to the arena is none other than DIAMOND DEL CARVER.  Carver wears his RUN DDC shirt with the sleeve cut off.  He also wears fingerless gloves and black biker boots, and a black leather eyepatch on his eye.  He glares menacingly at the ring as the fans cheer. 

It’s criminal

There oughtta be a law

Criminal 

Carver stalks down to the ring, his fists clenched at his sides. 

There oughtta be a whole lot more

You get a nothin’ for nothin’

Tell me who can you trust 

Carver walks up the ring steps and into the ring, never taking his eyes off of King. 

We got what ya want

And you got the lust! 

Carver finally turns and faces the fans, pointing out to them as they cheer even louder! 

If you want blood YOU GOT IT!

If you want blood YOU GOT IT!

Blood on the streets

Blood on the rocks

Blood in the gutter

EVERY LAST DROP

YOU WANT BLOOD! 

The music dies down as Carver goes to his corner, facing King as he enters his corner.  The fans are cheering, although the cheers begin to die back down as Samantha Coil speaks. 

Samantha Coil:  In this corner…weighing 245 pounds…hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina…HE IS THE LAST SCION…DONOVAN…KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!! 

The fans cheer as King nods his head, still staring at Carver. 

Samantha Coil:  And his opponent…weighing in at 235 pounds…hailing from Jackson, Mississippi…he is a member of the SHOOT PROJECT HALL OF FAME…DIAMOND…DEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL CAAAAAAAAAAAAARVEEEEEEEEEERRRRR!!!! 

Carver smirks as the fans continue to cheer for him as Tony Lorenzo pats King down.  He walks over and pats Carver down.  He walks to the middle of the ring and calls for the bell! 

Eryk Masters:  And HERE…WE…GO!! 

King and Carver walk to the center of the ring, neither men saying a word.  Carver looks King up and down and extends his hand to the Last Scion.  King looks down at Carver’s hand and nods his head, accepting the hand shake!  The fans pop BIG as King and Carver lock up!  Carver begins to drive King back, but King ducks underneath and hooks Carver up in a reverse waist lock!  He tries to hoist Carver up, bringing Carver off of his feet, but Carver manages to counter it into an arm drag, bringing both men to the mat!  Carver releases the arm bar that comes from it and rolls over to a head lock to King!  King quickly gets his knees underneath his body and takes a hold of Carver’s waist yet again, bringing him down to the mat and Tony Lorenzo goes to count the attempted pin fall! 

ONE! 

KICK OUT! 

Carver powers out of King’s pin fall attempt and quickly gets to his knees.  King is up on his feet, and Carver quickly hits him with a drop toe hold!  King falls to the mat face first as Carver quickly rushes over and CARVER HOOKS IN A CAROLINA CROSSFACE but King quickly rolls out of it into ANOTHER pin fall attempt! 

ONE! 

KICK OUT! 

King gets back up to his feet, shaking his head as Del Carver does the same.  Both men stare at one another as the fans applaud the back and forth. 

Eryk Masters:  It’s amazing to think that Del Carver can still go at such a pace!  Donovan King is only twenty-eight years of age! 

Other Guy:  And Diamond Del Carver is obviously eighty-seven! 

Carver quickly locks back up with King, who whips Carver to the ropes.  Carver rebounds off of the ropes and King catches him with a spinebuster, but Carver counters into a DDT into a rear naked choke!  The fans pop BIG but King quickly gets his feet on the bottom rope and Carver releases the hold!  King cradles his head as Carver quickly hits him with a knee drop.  He picks King up and hooks his head and arm for a vertical suplex…then HOISTS him high…BRAINBUSTER.  King crumbles to the mat as Carver hooks the leg! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

KICK OUT! 

Carver immediately hooks King’s head into a headlock, cranking hard to keep King from catching his breath. 

Eryk Masters:  Carver is keeping King’s air passage blocked while he catches his breath.  I think he’s gotta know that the only way he’s going to beat this guy is if he keeps staying one step ahead of him. 

Other Guy:  The moment the rust shows, Donovan King is gonna be all OVER Del, you just know it! 

Carver quickly picks King up and whips him to the ropes.  He drops his shoulder and prepares for a Samoan Drop!  He gets King onto his shoulders, but King counters into a crucifix bomb!  Carver cradles his own head now as King wastes no time in picking himself up and NAILING a leg drop to the back of Carver’s head!  King grabs Carver’s arm and throws his knees up into the air and JAMS them down into Carver’s arm, causing him to cry in pain!  King looks at the reaction it got him from Carver and he does is a SECOND time!  King quickly picks the arm up and twists it, bringing Carver to his side and he locks the arm into an arm lock surfboard! 

Eryk Masters:  LOOK! 

The fans are buzzing as ISAAC ENTRAGIAN APPEARS on the SHOOT-TRON!  He stands there, no Iron Fist Championship.  King looks up and sees Isaac.  His eyes squint as he sees his new apparent cheerleader on the massive SHOOT-Tron.  King shakes his head as Isaac does not react whatsoever.  Carver is still grimacing in the pain.  King releases the hold and shakes off Entragian’s image.  Carver clutches his arm as he looks up and sees Isaac now.  The fight has slowed to a complete stop as the two of them look at Isaac Entragian’s menacing image. 

Other Guy:  All of a sudden, this war has slowed down.  This classic has a seriously…dark undertone to it now.  I KNEW it couldn’t last! 

Carver and King are both up now, glaring at Entragian.  King shrugs his shoulders and jerks Carver’s head over for a Dealbreaker but Carver pushes him to the ropes!  King bounces off of the ropes and Carver NAILS him with the Diamond Line!  The fans pop as Carver glares at Entragian and begins to put the boots to King HARD!  One, two, three, four, five, six boots!  King cradles his body as Carver sprawls over him and UNLOADS with more punches! 

Eryk Masters:  It looks like Diamond Del Carver is out to spread one hell of a message to Isaac Entragian tonight! 

Carver picks King up and quickly hits him with an inverted atomic drop!  Carver quickly puts King’s head between his legs and lifts King up…DIAMOND DRIVER.  King holds his head as Carver grinds his boot into King’s face, holding the top rope for extra leverage.  Carver stops putting the boots to King as Isaac continues to watch, applauding Carver for his intensity.  Carver bends down to pick King up and King quickly hooks him into a small package! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

KICK OUT! 

Carver looks STUNNED as King rolls from the ring to get his bearings again.  The fans begin to buzz a lot more as MIRAGE appears…IN THE AUDIENCE. 

ONE! 

TWO! 

Eryk Masters:  Oh man… 

THREE! 

FOUR! 

King sees Mirage almost immediately and he makes for the guardrail, but he freezes when he realizes Tony Lorenzo is counting him out.  Mirage folds his arms across his chest, watching the events unfold.  King turns around and looks at Carver, who has his hands on his hips, glaring at Isaac at the entrance.  King shakes his head and backs away from the guardrail, the fans POPPING!  He rolls back into the ring and glares at Mirage.  King gets Carver’s attention and motions to Mirage and then to Entragian.  Carver nods and FLIPS MIRAGE OFF. 

Other Guy:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 

King smirks and FLIPS ENTRAGIAN OFF.  The fans are cheering SO LOUD  as the match continues!  Carver nods his head, laughing until King NAILS him with a HARD Lariat with the arm he was flipping Entragian off with!  King sprawls over Carver and BACKHANDS Carver across the face!  The fans let out a collective OOOOOH as King wakes Carver up HARD.  He picks Carver up and Carver breaks free!  Carver with another Diamond Line attempt, but King ducks it!  He hooks Carver’s head with an inverted DDT and NAILS the Kingfall Part II!  King sprawls over Carver’s body as Tony Lorenzo slides in for a pin attempt! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

KICK OUT! 

King wastes no time in picking Carver up…CARVER HITS THE DIAMOND CUTTER!  KING IS DOWN FROM THE DIAMOND CUTTER!  Carver hooks King’s leg HARD as Tony Lorenzo slides into position! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THR…KICK OUT!!  KICK OUT!! 

Carver shakes his head and laughs as King slowly tries to roll to his side.  Carver picks himself up off of the mat and slowly picks King up.  He looks at Mirage and then over to Entragian, sneering as he does so.  He picks King up and KING CATCHES HIM WITH AN ALIENATOR!  KING WITH THE PIN! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THR—NO!  NO!  KICK OUT!  CARVER HAS KICKED OUT!! 

Eryk Masters:  There is no way you can measure the fight in Diamond Del Carver!  He is BACK in this industry, he is BACK in this company, DIAMOND DEL CARVER IS BACK! 

Carver slowly begins to pick himself up as King holds his arms out, waiting for Carver to get up.  Once Carver is on his feet, King hits him with a single arm DDT!  Carver clutches his arm and King scrambles over Carver’s body AND HE LOCKS IN THE CAROLINA CROSSFACE!  CARVER CRIES OUT AS THE CAROLINA CROSSFACE IS LOCKED IN TIGHT! 

Other Guy:  THAT IS IT!  THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!! 

Mirage:  Hey…hey, Donovan! 

The fans boo as somebody apparently decided to give Mirage a microphone. 

Mirage:  How you doin’, buddy? 

King keeps trying to shake off Mirage’s taunts. 

Mirage:  I just came back from Jonny Johnson’s house, you know. 

The fans are booing HARD as King releases the Carolina Crossface. 

Mirage:  He couldn’t talk to me…unfortunately he’s less Defiler and more Stephen Hawking these days… 

Eryk Masters:  Oh bullshit.  Bullshit!  Mirage doesn’t even have any friends, let alone is he friends with Jonny Johnson! 

Mirage:  Did you know you’re the reason he has a colostomy bag, Donovan? 

King stands up, shaking violently. 

Mirage:  It’s too bad, too.  His baby daughter is learning how to grow up by wiping his ass and sponge bathing her vegetative father! 

Mirage begins to laugh as King starts to pace the ring, trying to shake off the things Mirage is saying to him. 

Mirage:  But hey!  I asked Mrs. Johnson if her and her now mentally retarded hubby have a…you know…open thing goin’ on, so it looks like things are lookin’ good for me! 

The fans continue to boo as King glares Mirage down.  Carver is on his hands and knees behind King at this point. 

Mirage:  That didn’t do it, huh?  How about this? 

Mirage holds up a small black object. 

Mirage:  You really should secure your belongings, Donovan.  I wonder what Jester Smiles would say when he sees all these text messages about how you’re getting hot and heavy with his little girlfriend? 

That does it for King as he runs to the ropes, but Carver catches him!  Carver has him in a half nelson! 

Eryk Masters:  THIS COULD BE IT!  DIAMOND DEATH DROP! 

Carver LIFTS King up…KING COUNTERS INTO THE DEALBREAKER!  KING COUNTERS INTO THE DEALBREAKER!  KING COVERS! 

ONE! 

TWO! 

THREE!! 

The fans ERUPT as the bell rings!  Entragian’s face fizzles out on the SHOOT-Tron as King SPRINTS from the ring into the audience! 

Other Guy:  KING JUST BEAT CARVER! 

Eryk Masters:  But he doesn’t seem to wanna hang around for the victory speech! 

Carver cradles his neck as King is scaling the steps two at a time, charging at Mirage!  Mirage HURLS King’s phone at him and runs from the arena, King in hot pursuit!  Carver, meanwhile, is slowly coming to, Tony Lorenzo helping him to his feet.  Carver stands tall in the ring, his face drenched in sweat. He raises one fist skyward, and the fans voice their appreciation for The Hardcore Outlaw. Carver nods respectfully, everyone still feeling the electricity that passed through the arena as the legend battled The Last Scion. 

“D-D-C!!!! D-D-C!!!!” 

Diamond Del Carver moves to one side of the ring to point at a fan’s sign, when suddenly his attention snaps towards the head of the ramp, a familiar theme song blasting forth from the audio system. 

PLEASE ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF!

I’M A MAN OF WEALTH AND TASTE.

BEEN AROUND FOR A LONG, LONG YEAR…

STOLE MANY A MAN’S SOUL AND FAITH. 

Tiamat’s “Sympathy For The Devil” roars into life amongst the masses, and the fans become literally unglued, SCREAMING hatred towards the pallid titan standing at the top of the ramp. 

Eryk Masters: Oh God….what’s this sickening creature doing out here?!  Hasn’t his presence been felt ENOUGH in this match?! 

Other Guy: I think that’s clear, Eryk. The man has a craving for a big old pot of Carver stew! 

Entragian wears an open throated white dress shirt, white slacks, and bleached rattlesnake skin boots. His white hair frames his face into a mask of sick hunger, his mouth stretching up slowly to form a serrated grin. 

Isaac casually adjusts the Iron Fist Championship draped over one mammoth shoulder, and then he stalks down towards the ring, twirling the pale fingers of his right hand at Del in a mock wave. Carver just glares, nodding, motioning for Isaac to bring his crazy ass into the ring! 

Entragian stops near the ring steps, bringing the Iron Fist Title up to his face before he plants a delicate kiss on the faceplate, allowing his forked tongue to slip out just a bit to graze over the gold. He then carefully places the title on the ring steps, and with Carver backing up and preparing for a fight, Isaac steps into the ring. 

Eryk Masters: This is VOLATILE, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t what’s going to occur between these two men… 

Both men simply stare holes into each other for a moment, and then Isaac makes his move, throwing out one massive white fist towards Del’s head, but Del ducks underneath! Isaac staggers a bit, and when he turns around… 

HE EATS A STRAIGHT FIST TO THE FACE! 

Isaac flies back against the ropes, and he tries to get back into it, but Del is right there, snapping off SCATHING chops right into Isaac’s chest! Entragian is driven back, the monster HISSING in pain, and finally Del backs him into the corner! 

From there, Carver starts to rain down thunderous right hands, pelting the albino’s head and face with punch after high-velocity punch. Isaac tries to throw his hands up, but Carver leans into his guard, whipping those hammer blows into the sides of his pallid face! 

The crowd is roaring in support of The Sheriff of SHOOT! 

Eryk Masters: Diamond Del Carver is beating the HELL out of Isaac Entragian! 

Other Guy: I think Del knows when you’re dealing with a rabid dog…you have to be quick and fierce! 

Del rears back his fist for yet another punch, but suddenly Entragian drops down to both knees and MEAT HOOKS A LOW-BLOW INTO DEL’S GROIN!!! 

Carver’s face seems almost to cave in, both hands going to his nether regions as he collapses down to the canvas. We zoom in on Entragian, and we see that his bottom lip has been busted wide open, blood running down his chin in a little stream. Despite this, a smile creeps onto his face. 

Entragian takes a step forward, and then he pulls a microphone out from the waistband of his slacks. 

Entragian: Well ladies and gents, I think I may have stunted the Carver bloodline for decades to come! Now Del, shake it off….I was doing you a favor. Might have knocked a few sexually transmitted diseases off that shriveled old sack! 

The fans bark their disdain, and Isaac just feeds on it, his eyes growing more and more crazed with each passing second. Meanwhile Carver has crawled to the center of the ring, but it’s clear that he’s hurting bad, his legs drawn up towards his lower belly. 

Entragian: Look at you, Carver. Just a broken old piece of meat…curled up on the mat like a baby missing his momma’s titty. It’s clear to me that what remains of your body is riddled with weakness; if you could only see yourself through MY eyes….just about every appendage bears a red X…so many targets, so little time… 

Isaac carefully walks towards Del’s legs, and then he snaps off a stomp right down against the toe of Del’s right boot! Carver grunts with pain, his foot starting to tremble. 

Entragian: That foot alone has suffered the wrath of Hantakira, God knows how many broken and badly reset toes you have stuffed into that old motorcycle boot…he took steel steps to it at one time, didn’t he Del? Sick sumo bastard… 

The camera switches to King in his chase after Mirage.  King stops in front of a merchandise table airing Revolution.  He stares at Entragian’s attack on Carver. 

Mirage:  COME ON, OUTTY JUNIOR!! 

Mirage cackles as he keeps running on.  King, meanwhile, shakes his head and sprints in the OTHER direction! 

Isaac goes to the other foot, and this time he rears back and CRUSHES a kick into Del’s ankle…Carver rolls on the canvas, his face stretching down into a grimace. 

Entragian: And that’s one FUCKED UP ankle, isn’t it? I recall the match in detail…you fell from the cage when you battled Roland Caldwell during the Hardcore House of Pain; practically turned that ankle to brittle… 

Carver writhes on the mat, and the fans are showing blatant detest for this assault, a few brave souls throwing bits of trash towards the ring. 

Entragian: And look at these pitiful knees, to say they’re shot would be the understatement of the century. You just about ruined this one *Isaac points to the kneecap* when you faced OutKast for the first time ever, isn’t that right? 

Entragian measures Del, and then he drops down to the canvas with a three hundred pound elbow drop RIGHT onto one of Carver’s bad knees. Carver wriggles in agony, his hands going down to nurse his knee. 

Isaac quickly stands back up, grinning ear to ear. 

Entragian: Multiple pulled hamstrings, tendon damage…ACL & PCL replacement in both legs…this lower body is a FUCKING WRECK. Let’s move it up a bit, shall we? Oh shit….almost forgot the pelvis! 

Isaac takes a step back, and then in an agile display for the big man, he sends a low dropkick/baseball slide right into Del’s pelvis. Del’s face is BEET RED at this point, but he has yet to yell out, it’s as though he doesn’t want to give Isaac the satisfaction. Isaac quickly stands back up; bringing the mic to his saliva-covered lips. 

Entragian: You’ve fractured that pelvis not once, but TWICE. First time was a tag team match against Dutch Harris & The Fist…and I’m willing to bet it never healed properly. Hell, screw the titanium hip joint…you need metal placed all throughout your skeleton, Del! I don’t even know if a Wolverine-style surgery would bring your SORRY ASS back to fighting form! 

Isaac immediately drops down, and he just begins to HAMMER clubbing blows into Carver’s chest, smashing at his ribs over and over again. When Isaac finally rises again, his eyes are starting to glaze over with an obsessive lust for torment, and Del is coughing so hard spittle is flying from his lips… 

Entragian: Just about every rib in that chest has been broken at one point in your “ILLUSTRIOUS” career. And the shoulders? Man….I still remember that time Instant Heat had you down in the ring, orchestrating a little gang warfare on your crusty old ass…they practically tore these fucking shoulders right out of the sockets! 

With that said, Entragian starts to stomp down HARD on both of Del’s shoulders, his rattlesnake skin boots slamming down against The Hardcore Outlaw’s shoulder blades. Del tries to roll away, but Entragian is brutally tenacious… 

Entragian: And now we come to the grand finale of the pathetically tattered body of Diamond Del Carver. The head. Scars on top of scars, a mug not even his own street whore mother could love. Brains whipped up into a stew after hundreds upon hundreds of chairshots, his eye a useless, cataract-ridden mess that looks like it was injected with the cum of a crackhead…..all thanks to a cigar wielded by Azraith “I Got My Ass Kicked By Isaac” DeMitri! 

Eryk Masters:  Donovan King, if you’re heading back out here, HURRY! 

Isaac promptly drops to both knees, his eyes fuming with rabid delight, and from there he just begins to DRILL Diamond Del Carver in the face with punch after devastating punch. After a moment, Isaac stops, seeming to admire to scars on Carver’s face. 

Entragian: This one here, Del….is very pretty. Corazon gave you that particular scar. Tell me, old-timer…what did it feel like to have the cold steel of a screwdriver digging into your flesh? Was it like a hot-shot of Viagra straight into your outdated system? Did you become aroused? 

Isaac slowly lowers the mic towards Del’s lips, and Carver manages to lean up, his face scrunched down in agony. He barks loudly at Isaac, a few specks of blood flying out of his mouth to stain Isaac’s pure white shirt. 

Diamond Del Carver: BURN IN HELL, YOU BIG WHITE MAGGOT! 

Entragian smiles wide, his ravenous crocodilian teeth glistening with a few droplets of drool. He leans down, whispering into Del’s face… 

Entragian: Not before you… 

Isaac then bounds up to his feet, and HE WHIPS A FLUSH KICK INTO THE SIDE OF CARVER’S FACE, THE SOUND OF THE IMPACT TRAVELING ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE ARENA! 

Carver seems to be totally out of it as this point, his head lolls to the side, and his eyes flutter closed. Entragian moves forward, and he lightly places his boot atop Carver’s leathery throat, grinding down just a tiny bit. 

Entragian: I’ve done my homework on you, Carver. You’re practically falling apart. I don’t think your brittle shoulders can bear the delicious weight of Iron Fist Gold. But hey…I’m just another bland villain from a sea of other villains, I’m sure my opinion doesn’t matter. I’m just like all the others, isn’t that what you said? What’s your stance on that matter now, Del? Have I managed to break the mold just a….teeny….tiny….bit? 

Isaac glares down at Carver, who seems to be knocked out at this point. 

Entragian: Well come on people, cheer for your LEGEND!! This hard-drinking, hard-fucking, hard-hitting SON OF A GUN deserves your respect, doesn’t he?!?! 

You people LOVE this gruff old boozehound, don’t you?? You seriously think he cares about ANY of you when he has his leathery face buried between the cellulite-covered thighs of one of his hoggish whores?? Huh?? 

CHEER FOR YOUR FALLEN IDOL!!! 

CHANT HIS FUCKING NAME!!!! 

The fans absolutely SHRIEK with hatred for Entragian, and now large pieces of garbage are being thrown towards the ring, a soda cup just barely missing Isaac’s shoulder. 

Entragian: I’m sure you’ll find him holed up in one of those shitty roach motels on the outskirts of the Vegas strip later tonight, licking his wounds. So folks, feel free to send your “get well” cards there… 

With that said, Isaac whips the microphone down to the canvas. A carnivorous smile is etched onto his pale face, and he simply stands with his boot on Del’s throat, lording over The Sheriff of SHOOT. 

Eryk Masters: That was….one of the most disgusting sights I’ve ever seen in my life. Entragian is a soulless, immoral ANIMAL…and I can’t wait to see Carver exact some serious vengeance for this mugging. 

Other Guy:  He doesn’t look finished, Eryk! 

Entragian measures Carver one final time when the fans ERUPT! 

Eryk Masters:  DONOVAN KING IS BACK! 

King sprints HARD out of the audience and over the guardrail as Entragian quickly flips himself over the top rope, flipping over onto his feet, a serrated grin across his face.  King is RIGHT in Entragian’s face, glaring at him from the ring! 

Entragian:  He’s all yours, Superman! 

Entragian laughs as he leaves King and Carver in the ring.  King drops down and cradles Carver’s barely conscious head, checking for any signs of cognizance.  Entragian disappears completely to the back as the final image we see of the evening…is Donovan King trying to get Diamond Del Carver to come back to life.