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Ruination 60

EP.: 060

DATE: 06.23.2024









You know who we haven’t heard from in a while? The former, and new, tag team champions.

Let’s fix that.

Eagles, “Out of Control.”


The crowd goes wild as the music starts, and they go even wilder as the lads step through the curtain and head down to the ring. They’re still in their street clothes, with t-shirts and jeans under their ring jackets. Denny’s shirt is standard SHOOT Project merch; Benny’s has the words “If You Play For Both Teams You’ll Always Win” in pink, purple and blue.

They’ve got a couple of really nice gold accessories too. The SHOOT Project Tag Team Titles, fresh from a good polish (and a deep cleaning.)

Scott Kamura: Here come the champions, once again! Benny and Denny had a brutal barbed-wire war with Lucha Fitness at Masters of the Mat, but came out on top and reclaimed the Tag Team Titles!

Dutch Harris: That match took a lot out of both teams; let’s hope the champs still have something left for tonight. There’s no way they’ve fully recovered.

Benny and Denny spend some time with the fans, high fiving and posing for pictures, before heading to the ring. Benny calls for a microphone, which Samantha Coil provides.

Benjamin Colton: WHAT IS UP, SHOOT PROJECT?!


Benjamin Colton: That’s what I like to hear! I love knowing that you’re up to be here as we are–especially since we are, once again, YOUR Tag Team Champions!

The lads hold their belts in the air, drawing more excitement from the crowd. Crowd, that’s your cue.


Benjamin Colton: Y’know, it feels great to hold the gold again…but I gotta be honest, that wasn’t even our main goal heading into Masters. See, Lucha Fitness…


Benjamin Colton: No argument here. If they’d just taken our belts, that’d be one thing. But they fucked with our family, and there was no way we could let that stand. They knew it too, and did everything they could to dodge what was comin’…but when you Fuck Around, you eventually gotta Find Out. Pretty sure that’s one of Isaac Newton’s laws of motion.

Dennis Colton: Pretty sure it’s not.

Benjamin Colton: And when the Day of Finding Out finally came…well, you all saw it. Now, Maximo and Kid Lucha didn’t make it easy, and I’m not looking to do the barbed wire thing again anytime soon. But as crafty, and tough, and dangerous as they are…they still learned why the Coltons are the A-1…


Benny cracks a grin; feels good when the fans catch onto a bit.

Benjamin Colton: So to whoever else wants to step up and take their shot…maybe keep them crayons inside the lines from now on, all right?

Dutch Harris: Good luck with that, Coltons. This is more a “sharpen your crayons and shove them in your eye” crowd.

Benjamin Colton: So that’s the old business handled. Now it’s time for new business, which we plan to stand on for the rest of the year. A pair of title belts to defend against all comers, and we plan on making this run even better than our first!

Scott Kamura: That’s a really high bar–the Coltons held the belts for over nine months in their first reign, with six defenses in SHOOT and four more in Bang! Pro Wrestling!

Benjamin Colton: The tag division is stronger than ever, and we look forward to seeing all those teams challenge us in the future. We welcome the challenge! The Coltons fear NO MAN!

Dennis Colton: And…like, half the women you’ve hooked up with.

Benjamin Colton: I like ‘em scary! The fact is, we have proven time and time again that we are the premiere tag team in this company, in this business, and anyone looking to take our titles should expect more of the same!

He turns to his cousin, giving him a big strong slap on the chest.

Benjamin Colton: BIG MAN!

Oh man! What does he want the big man to do? Does the audience have a guess?


Hey, they got it!

Dennis Colton: Two huge challenges coming up! First and foremost, the Empire.

Benjamin Colton: Boner Boys 2.0!

Dennis Colton: The talent of Burkhalter, the toughness of Mike de los Huesos, the backing of Breedlove. That’s a squad of killers right there, and we’re still banged up after dancing with a couple devils in a barbed wire ring. We’re getting thrown right back in deep water…and that’s fine by us, ‘cause that’s where we like it! That’s where we live! If they think they’re going to come into our house, take our belts…they’re in for a big damn surprise, ‘cause we ain’t just the big fish. We’re the sharks…and we bite.

Benjamin Colton: Damn right!

Dennis Colton: As if that ain’t enough, we got the Devil’s Advocates off in the distance. Absolute maniacs, and Masters of the Mat winners. That’s a hard road, and we should know.

Benjamin Colton: ‘Cause we did it last year.

Dennis Colton: And I bet Pleasant and Roberts are looking that road all the way to the end, to glory, to the SHOOT Project Tag Team Championships, just like we did. Trouble is, it’s gonna be a lot harder for them than it was for us.

Benjamin Colton: How could that be possible, cousin o’ mine?

Dennis Colton: Easy. When we got our title shot…we didn’t have to face the Coltons.


Dennis Colton: I know you two are heartless, relentless, ruthless…

Benjamin Colton: Not a single Ruth to be found!

Dennis Colton: …but you’re up against the guys who climbed back to the top of the mountain, and we’re looking to dig in our heels. We won’t move for anything, or anyone, and when the smoke clears…WE WILL.

Benjamin Colton: AND STILL.

Dennis Colton: Hell yeah!


Benny grins again and acknowledge the fans, then the lads leave the ring as “Out of Control” plays them out.

Scott Kamura: Strong words from the champions tonight!

Dutch Harris: Let’s see if they can back that up with strong actions–they’ll need to if they want to keep the belts! SHOOT’s roster is more dangerous than ever!

Scott Kamura: We’ll see soon enough–The Coltons vs. the Empire in tonight’s main event! We’ll be right back after this.







Samantha Coil: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!


Dutch Harris: This one should be interesting, we’ve got two technical powerhouses going at it, and I gotta assume experience gets the victory here, Scott.


Scott Kamura: That’s fair, but I would say don’t count out the endurance of youth.


The lights go out, as video screens suddenly show a scene from 1953’s “The Wild One.”


Mildred: Hey, Johnny, what are you rebelling against?

Johnny: Whaddaya got?


Flames erupt from the edge of the stage, and the opening chords of “Wild Thing” course through the arena. Stepping out onto the stage, looking to either side to a decidedly mixed reaction, Cormac Nelson is ready for war, his face painted in the skull motif, the Wild Ones vest hanging off his shoulders.


Samantha Coil: Introducing first, from Red Bank, NJ, weighing in at 264 lbs, representing the Wild Ones, CORMAC NELLLLLSOOOOOOOOON!


Dutch Harris: A little nod to the legend, Atsushi Onita. Kid knows his history, at least, even if maybe he’s being a little presumptuous.


Cormac ignores the crowd as he stalks to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and charging for the far corner, stepping up on the turnbuckle and raising one fist, before dropping back to the mat, and running his hands over the top ropes. The lights flash, and the vocal harmony of Queen’s “I Want It All” pours through the crowd, to huge cheers!


Samantha Coil: And his opponent, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 240 lbs, ALEX KINCAAAAAIIIIID!


Scott Kamura: And here comes the man who nearly took the Master of the Mat tournament this year, Dutch! Kincaid has been on quite a tear recently.


Dutch Harris: You’re not wrong, though I imagine losing to NC-17 may have hurt more than he’s willing to admit.


But… the stage remains empty. The crowd is still cheering, but Kincaid doesn’t walk through the curtain.


Dutch Harris: Is… we’re supposed to be seeing Kincaid here, but…


Scott Kamura: Well, this is unexpected.


Cormac immediately stands up, turning to face every side of the ring that isn’t on the ramp, but no sneak attack seems imminent. He moves to the ramp side of the ring, leaning over the top rope, and just puts up a hand in frustration as the stage remains empty, and the song continues.


Scott Kamura: Can someone find out… is Alex Kincaid even in the building tonight?


Dutch Harris: I gotta be honest, this is not the kind of behavior we expect from someone of Kincaid’s stature, and I personally share in Cormac’s frustration, here.


The crowd starts to turn, as Queen is cut off abruptly. Cormac starts to argue with the referee, who seems just as confused as anyone else. Cormac puts his hands on his hips, arguing with the ref a bit as he starts a ten count.


The crowd is beyond upset now, boos filling the Epicenter. Cormac stands in the middle of the ring, shaking his head, looking out at the entrance, as the referee counts the ten.


Samantha Coil: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, by forfeit, CORMAC NELSON!


The boos nearly drown Samantha out as she finishes the statement. The referee tries to raise Cormac’s hand, but he yanks it away angrily.


Cormac: Are you fucking kidding me?


He drops to his back and rolls out of the ring, headed backstage, very clearly heated.


Dutch Harris: I… I don’t really know what to say, Scott, other than how incredibly unprofessional this is.


Scott Kamura: I still haven’t gotten confirmation that Kincaid even arrived at the Epicenter today, Dutch. Cormac gets a victory, but it was anything other than hard-fought.

Dutch Harris: Well, we have plenty of action still to come tonight, with the debut of Rex Wrecks taking on Solar Gamma Death Ray in just a few minutes, so stick around.



The camera cuts to the ring where Roy Vezina stands, microphone in hand, flanked by Harv Norris and Rick Hull. The Punch Line’s usual confidence is overshadowed by a tense atmosphere. The crowd murmurs, sensing something big is about to happen.


Roy Vezina: [Raising the microphone, trying to maintain his usual condescendingly positive demeanor] Ladies and gentlemen, members of the SHOOT Project Universe, it has come to my attention that recent events have escalated beyond acceptable limits.


The crowd reacts with a mix of boos and curiosity, remembering the chaotic encounter between Roy and Ryan Samuels.


Roy Vezina: As the captain of the Punch Line, it is my duty to ensure that our team operates with the highest standards of professionalism and decorum. Unfortunately, Ryan Samuels has failed to meet these standards.


The crowd’s boos grow louder, some chanting Ryan’s name in support.


Roy Vezina: [Trying to keep his composure] I understand your feelings, truly. But let me assure you, this decision is made for the betterment of our team and the integrity of this organization. Effective immediately, Ryan Samuels is suspended from all wrestling activities and is hereby banned from this arena.


The crowd erupts, some in shock, others in outrage. The camera cuts to various audience members, their reactions ranging from anger to disappointment.


Roy Vezina: [Struggling to maintain his positive tone, but with a hint of anxiety] This is not a decision I take lightly. Ryan’s recent behavior, culminating in the disgraceful outburst and attack, cannot be tolerated. We are here to compete, to entertain, and to represent the spirit of sportsmanship. Ryan has demonstrated he cannot adhere to these principles.


Harv Norris: [Nodding in agreement, though still visibly sore from the previous incident] Ay, b’y, we need to focus on our matches and getting back on track. This kind of behavior isn’t helping anyone.


Rick Hull: [Adding his voice, though looking more serious than usual] We’ve got matches to win, and we can’t have distractions like this. We need to be united, and right now, Ryan is a liability.


Roy Vezina: [Trying to justify his actions] Let me remind everyone of the context here. We’ve been on a losing streak, and it’s no surprise that we were eliminated from the Masters of the Mat tournament. This isn’t just about one incident. It’s about a pattern of behavior that has undermined our efforts. Ryan’s near attack on me was the final straw. [Skipping over the fact that Harv was beaten up pretty bad, to Harv’s slight annoyance]


Harv Norris: [Muttering under his breath, clearly annoyed] Yeah, just ignore the fact I got whacked in the old stick and pucks. No big deal.


Roy Vezina: [Ignoring Harv] And worst of all, Ryan’s horrible attitude has been a constant source of tension. His negativity and defiance have created an environment that’s detrimental to our success. This is about moving forward, stronger and more focused. The Punch Line will bounce back from this. We will show everyone that we are resilient and determined to succeed.


The camera focuses on Roy’s face, showing a flicker of anxiety behind his smile. The crowd continues to react, the noise a blend of support for Ryan and disapproval of Roy’s decision.


Roy Vezina: [Voice firm] This is my final word on the matter. We will not tolerate insubordination or disruptive behavior. The Punch Line is here to win, and we will not be derailed.


The crowd’s reaction remains mixed, but the intensity of their emotions is clear. The camera pulls back to show the entire ring, with Roy, Harv, and Rick standing united, but the tension is palpable.








Vito Valentino stretches his massive arms and legs in a secluded section of the backstage area. Off the beaten path, The SmashShow jogs in place. Preparing mentally to face his friend of many years, mono-y-mono, for the first time ever.


Not just a SHOOT Project ring. In ANY ring. In ANY company.


For weeks he read Barnesy and his dumb ass proxy, Hank Hercules, embarrass themselves on Spitter by challenging the COO, CEO, or CE-Whatever relentlessly as if “Street Fighter” Scottie Barnes is worth a damn.


Enough’s enough, and it’s time to end the embarrassment.


Satisfied with how his joints and ligaments feel after a solid 15 minutes of stretching, Vito finds his way back to civilization within the Epicenter. Nodding at various personnel and talent, Vito adjusts his pink and black tights. 


???: Vito?


Vito whips around to find a UPS man holding a box.


Vito Valentino: Who’s askin’?


UPS Man: Vito Valentino?


Vito Valentino: (a little louder) I said… who is askin’?


The UPS Man motions towards the name embroidered on his shirt. Kevin. Kevin Harris. Kevin Harris is in the shit-brown shorty-shorts and baseball cap with the eponymous UPS logo sewn onto it. It also appears that Kevin Harris, delivery man extraordinaire, has a package for Vito. It’s a very large box that he has tipped expertly at a forty-degree angle on a, you guessed it, brown hand truck.


Vito Valentino: What’s in the box?!


UPS Man, Kevin Harris: I don’t know, sir. Can you sign for this m, though?


Vito Valentino: Sign for it?! There could be a fuckin’ bomb in there for all we know!


UPS Man, Kevin Harris: I mean, I don’t think it is.


Vito Valentino: Why is that?


UPS Man, Kevin Harris: Passed through airport baggage check according to the invoice.


Vito realizes something and snaps his finger in a real “Eureka!” moment.


Vito Valentino: Do you still have that invoice?


The UPS Man, Kevin Harris, MVP of the United Parcel Service, smacks the side of the large, four-foot high box. There, right by the spot where Kevin smacked his hand, is the yellow invoice taped to the side of the box.


Vito Valentino: Spot on, my guy. Listen, I’d love to open this right now but I have a match in about less than two/minutes. I’ll sign for it, but can you drop this off by Real Deal’s office? I have a feelin’ he’s gonna wanna know what’s in the box, too.


UPS Man, Kevin Harris: Uh, yeah I guess I can do that.


At this point, The UPS Man, Kevin Harris, MVP of the United Parcel Service, and the man whose hat matches the color of a pair of undies belonging to another man who happens to be waiting for him in the ring, pulls out a device for his electronic signature. Vito signs his John Hancock right away, and walks a brisk pace off towards Gorilla. Not before shooting back two thumbs up.


Vito Valentino: Thanks! Let Real Deal know I’ll be there to see him and open the box after I deliver a certain shitkicking that I promised!


UPS Man, Kevin Harris, MVP of the United Parcel Service, who hates his job more than he ever lets on, angles the hand truck just enough so that he moves it back towards the vicinity of where he saw the office of one “Josh Johnson”.



Backstage, we see Mary Kelly standing to the side of a pacing Cormac Nelson, his face still painted, a grimace of rage plastered across it.


Mary Kelly: I’m here with Cormac Nelson of the Wild Ones, coming off what had to be a disappointing win tonight. It seems like Kincaid’s absence really got to you.


Cormac stops pacing, and steps over to Mary.


Cormac Nelson: You picked up on that, huh? Yeah, I’m mad, Mary. You could say I’m pretty fucking pissed off. And I don’t think I really need to explain why, do I?


See, I might be the young buck back here, and all, but I don’t think it’s too much to expect a little, tiny, insignificant amount of respect. I don’t know Kincaid. I don’t know what’s been going on with his life, other than the tournament. And frankly, I don’t really fucking care, because there’s no excuse for this shit. 


You don’t want the match? You want to postpone? You have an emergency and you need to rush your dog to the airport or whatever? Fine, I’m pretty laid back when it comes to that kind of thing. All I ask is for the respect to be told ahead of time. There’s absolutely no fucking reason I should be standing in an empty ring with a referee apologizing to me.


Y’know… if it had been my dad standing on the other side of the ring from you, Alex, would you have pulled this shit? If three-time SHOOT Project Tag Team Champion CJ Nelson was your opponent, would you have had the fucking balls to no-show him? Because I’ll tell you what would’ve happened.


He would’ve hunted your ass down and pulled your fucking head from your shoulders, is what would’ve happened.


You’re lucky, then, that I’m not him.


I’m willing to let this one slide, Alex. I’m willing to suck up that disrespect, let it wash over me, and watch it fade away. Like I said, I’m pretty laid back. I can forgive this time.


But you can be DAMN sure I’m not about to forget. I come to the Epicenter to fight. And I don’t like it when my fights are taken from me. So you owe me one, Alex. You owe me a fight, and sooner or later, when our paths cross again?


I’m gonna fucking collect, one way or another.


Cormac storms off, leaving Mary alone with the camera.

Mary Kelly: Back to you, Dutch & Scott.








As the ring clears from Vito Valentino’s victory over Scottie Barnes, the crowd hushes as the camera returns to Dutch Harris and Scott Kamura.


Dutch Harris: Ever since that promo image for Iron Will 3 went out, there’s been some buzz about what it actually means. We’ve both been here for the first two Iron Will’s, and they’ve each included an Iron Will Classic.


Scott Kamura: That’s true, and I think the boss was on SHOOTCast recently talking about that very event, calling it a “really fun mess.” 


Dutch Harris: Well, the first two involved two title matches with five participants, but the scuttlebutt is that this one’s going to be even bigger.


Scott Kamura: I think we’re going to find out soon, because the boss man himself is about to pop out here to the ring.


As if on cue…




Dutch Harris: Should we note that it’s pretty funny he’s coming out here right after Scottie Barnes got his ass beat by Vito Valentino? 


Scott Kamura: Oh I think the timing is very intentional. 


Real Deal walks out onto the stage wearing joggers and a Vito Valentino “SMASH SHOW” t-shirt with a smile on his face and a microphone in hand. The SHOOT Faithful give their love to the man behind the curtain. 


Real Deal: Y’all know me by now, I wanna keep it brief. We’re here to talk about our next little pay-per-view event… because I’ll never ever call them a premium live event… Iron Will 3. 



Crowd cheers at the image and the history behind the image.


Real Deal: Great, y’all know what this is going to be about then. The Iron Will Classic, one of the most grueling competitions that has ever been concocted here in the SHOOT Project, because it’s historically been two multi-person elimination title matches back to back. And it goes without saying that no champion has ever come out of the Iron Will Classic with their title in hand.


Shots from past Iron Will Classic’s play over the EpiTron to illustrate his point.


Real Deal: This year, though? We’re upping the ante, in true Las Vegas fashion. We’ll be rolling out three, count ‘em, three title matches this year. That means three multi-person elimination matches, back to back to back. 


The Sin City Championship will be on the line in the first one.


The Premier Championship will be on the line in the second one.


The World Heavyweight Championship will be on the line in the last one. It’s a triple main event, of sorts. 


The crowd pops again.


Real Deal: And previously… there have been five competitors. Two champions plus three challengers. But that’s not what we’re doing this year.


A murmur takes over.


Real Deal: We’re breaking the original Iron Will Classic mold and going from five competitors… to eight. 


A gasp! 


Real Deal: I know, I gasped when I came up with the idea too. That means that eight people will have three chances to win a championship. One person could walk away with all three. Someone could walk away with two. Y’all know the deal, it’s a wild time. But you might be thinking to yourself… “Josh, how are you going to decide the five competitors?!” and to that I’d say… that’s a great question. 


So, we’re going to have some qualifying matches.


Contenders from across all divisions will be given a chance to get into this contest, and while I haven’t quite decided who those contenders might be… we all know it’s going to be a lot of fun. Hell, I might even give Scottie Barnes an opportunity to impress me and get into one of these things! 


The crowd laughs as does the Real Deal. 


Real Deal: So, to recap… three matches, three championships, and eight competitors. One winner each. Qualifying matches will start RIGHT HERE at Ruination 61 and again on Revolution 211! 


Chief Reality Officer… OUT! 


He drops the mic as “Chuuch!” kicks up again, ushering the Hall of Famer back to the back to resume his duties.


Dutch Harris: WOW. 


Scott Kamura: That’s HUGE. The stakes have literally actually never been higher. The numbers… the math… it’s crazy. I can’t wait for the wrestling forums to go nuts trying to untangle this and figure out all the percentages and junk! 


Dutch Harris: Well, he called it a “really fun mess” and it sounds like he’s going to deliver. But for right now, we’ve got a tag team match to get to, as the Wild One’s take on The Collins Twins in a bout for position in the tag team rankings! 












The camera arrives in the back of the Epicenter Arena to find two imposing figures standing outside of one of the dressing rooms.

Lars von Bremen and Kingslayer

The pair of HEXXX members remain stoic, arms crossed, until Lars cocks his head to the side and lets out an evil smile, gesturing down the hallway.

Lars von Bremen: Hey, KS. Ain’t that your boyfriend?

Kingslayer doesn’t react and Lars huffs in irritation; but, after a pause…

Lars von Bremen: Yo! Protein shake!

The camera swings to the left, showing an otherwise unaware Chick Grillbreast turn his attention towards HEXXX.

Lars von Bremen: Your fuck boi wants to talk.

Lars looks over, seeing if it’s gotten a rise out of Kingslayer. It hasn’t. However, the former Daihmbreast member is fuming and headed directly for Lars and Kingslayer.

Chick Grillbreast: MOVE NOW OR I END YOU TOO.

Chick quickly ignores the bouncer and steps slowly in front of Kingslayer. Wearing his red demon mask, the HEXXX member and Chick’s former partner just stares straight ahead with cold, dead eyes.

Chick Grillbreast: WHY?


Kingslayer does not flinch.




Still nothing.


Chick Grillbreast: AAAAHHHHHH, ANSWER ME!!!!!

Just as Chick is seemingly about to bring his fist into contact, Lars steps in between the two. 


Lars von Bremen: No no no, meathead. You’ve got him later. But if you’re feeling frisky, I can give you a nice little warm-up.


Chick and Lars are nose to nose. Lars smiles, eye to eye with the big man, as Chick fumes. As this stare-down happens, a click is heard as the locker room door opens. Ayumi steps out, looking irritated.

Ayumi Seppuku: What the fuck is all the damned-

Ayumi takes in the scene, looking from Bremen to Kingslayer to Chick and then back to Kingslayer.

Lars von Bremen: Loverboy here is getting the silent treatment. Too bad he can’t shut the fuck up too.

Ayumi places her hand on Lars’ shoulder and locks eyes with him for a moment. Enough is spoken that Lars, politely, gives Ayumi space. Ayumi then moves toward Chick, turning briefly to Kingslayer and places a hand gently on his shoulder. Kingslayer looks down at Ayumi for a second before looking back up toward – and through – Chick.

Ayumi Seppuku: You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You throw away a friendship like that and then expect him to apologize to YOU? How fucking selfish…

Chick goes to say something but Ayumi cuts him off.

Ayumi Seppuku: No. You and him? You’re done. He doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want anything from you other than a victory at Revolution. For all other intents and purposes…  you are dead to him.



Ayumi’s eyes flicker with a fire so intense even Lars stands at attention and averts his gaze from the scene. She steps forward and puts a hand on Kingslayer’s shoulder while never letting go of her focus on Chick.

Ayumi Seppuku: I want you to unstuff the meatballs you have packing your ears and listen to me VERY closely, you sad excuse for a sausage casing, because I am going to only say this once… Daihm Ferguson is gone, he’s never coming back, and you’re the one responsible.

Ayumi gestures for Kingslayer and Lars von Bremen to retreat to the locker room for now. She guides Kingslayer calmly as he turns away from Chick Grillbreast as if he wasn’t even there. 


Lars lingers for a moment, still beaming with arrogance.


Lars von Bremen: Maybe another day, big guy.

Ayumi keeps her eyes on Chick as she waits until both Kingslayer and Lars are in the room. Just as she’s about to close the door, she flashes a grin back toward Chick Grillbreast before mouthing two chilling words.

He’s mine”