A Clockwork Black
London Freemantle/Victor Mandrake

[Outside the Louisiana Superdome. Somewhere on the back lot.]

[A beaten up '54 Lincoln barrels into the lot. Most of the other wrestlers have already arrived. The air inside the arena is tense as the massed people wait anxiously for the matches to start.]

[The Lincoln ignores the lines in the road, the parking spaces and any sense of parking lot decorum as it clatters to a halt in front of the loading dock entrance.]

[A ghost rises from behind the wheel.]

[The Hollowman.]

[London "Fucking" Freemantle is back in the WWA!]

[He's met at the door by Dave Benn, head of security for the WWA.]

"Hello, Mr. Freemantle. Been a long time."

[Freemantle nods, extends his hand for a hearty shake.]

"No shit, Dave. Had some rough days. I'm back in business now though."

[The guard shifts in his shoes.]

"About that. Uh, Mr. Mandrake wants to see you. He's been waiting. I'm supposed to let him know when you're here."

[The briefest flash of annoyance crosses the big wrestler's face. It's quickly gone, though, replaced by a sly smile.]

"Well, you call him then, Dave. I guess I gotta few words for him too."

[The guard does as he's asked, using the shoulder mounted walkie-talkie to radio to the owner of the WWA. A couple fast minutes pass as Dave explains to Freemantle all about what his kids are doing and how the weather has been. Soon enough the back door opens.]

"London..."

"Vic..."

[The two men share a very serious nod and bump knuckles.]

"Cute promo, by the way."

[London grins.]

"I thought you might like that…"

[Mandrake grins and shakes his head.]

"Let's spare small talk and get right to it, shall we? I had to pull a lot of strings to get you back here."

[Freemantle nods.]

"Yeah, I heard. I appreciate it too. You know that."

[Mandrake grabs London's shoulder and motions out into the dark back lot.]

"Let's walk. Lots of ears around here."

[Their heavy footsteps crunch slowly across the vacant lot.]

"Times have changed, London. It's not like the old days. I can't have you destroying the backstage tonight. I know you. I know you want to make a big appearance and terrify everyone, just like the old days. You have to understand this is our biggest night of the year. I have sponsors here. I have to ask you to keep all the bloodshed in the ring."

[London smirks.]

"That's a tall order, Vic. You serious about all this?"

"Dead serious. I want you back in the WWA. Believe me. I know the dollars that you'll bring in. But you have to keep it clean, just for tonight. And let me be clear, I'm asking you. Not telling you. I haven't forgotten what you did for me back in Thailand. Not for a second."

"Shit, hoss, that's water under the bridge. You did plenty for me too, you know. I ain't forgot about that either. I woulda thanked you earlier, 'cept that I died a right good amount of times. Been hard for me to make it around for thank yous and the what not."

[Mandrake nods. He seems to understand the whole "dying" thing.]

"So, you play by the rules tonight, and I'll consider it a showing of good faith from you. Then the gloves are off. You can do what you want."

[Freemantle cracks his big knuckles at those words.]

"That mean you'll let me after the title? Even if your current pretty boys still have hold of it?"

"What pretty boys? You mean Blasier?"

"I mean any of them. Ain't none of them worth a hill of beans."

"Yeah, they're yours if you want them. Just play it straight tonight, then you can do what you want, just like the old days."

[The Hollowman laughs that awful gravel laugh of his.]

"The old days were fun, hoss. You know that."

"I know that. You can bet I do. I still have the scars to prove it."

"Ain't we all, hoss? Ain't we all?"

[Mandrake directs Freemantle back towards the building, the talk all but finished. As they move past the Lincoln, Freemantle breaks away.]

"Hey Vic, I got a little something for you. Since you invited me back and all, I figure I'd get you a little something to show you how much a care and shit like that. Just hold up a minute."

[He reaches into the backseat of the Lincoln and drags out a large bundle wrapped in old burlap. He meets Mandrake back at the loading dock door and hands him the bundle. The Owner of the WWA takes it apprehensively.]

"What's this?"

"A little present. Just something I brought back from the land of the dead. Don't open it here though. That's something you need to check out in private, if you know what I mean, hoss."

"Dangerous?"

"Sure is."

[Mandrake eyes the bundle with a new appreciation. He hefts it in his huge hands.]

"Heavy. Feels like a book."

[The Hollowman nods as he opens the door leading into the arena.]

"Good guess, Vic. Here's another one. That there ain't no cookbook, boyo. That's the real deal."

[Mandrake stares down longingly at the bundle in his hand.]

"You're not shitting me, are you, Free?"

"'Course not. I owe you this one, fair and square. See you inside, Vic. Dave. Y'all have a wonderful night."

...bonedaggers...

Splenda's Shit-Talking
Splenda/Sergeiev Bogorovich

[Oh no.]

[Ladies and gentlemen...]

[The press conference room, in the Louisiana Superdome. Just before the first match or so, which would be...Team OLW vs. Team AWF.]

[So, plenty of time to speak before bell time. Had to make sure not to take too much time, though. A number of people still had time devoted to speaking as well...]

[Especially Blasier.]

[But, that didn't matter at the moment. According to the breakdown, this speech segment would be done by one...]

[Bartholomew Finneas Flufferdoodle Dogwater Dynamite Johnson VelJohnson Q. Doughnuts. The Third.]

[A.K.A.]

[Splenda.]

[Oh god.]

[The room hushed, as the King Pimp stepped out from stage left, in his fancy pimp-suit. Pimp-stick in one hand, the AWA Heavyweight Championship in the other. He looked over his assembled people-age, a big ol' smirk on his face.]

"Alla yo' punkasses out they should know somethin' by now."

[Splenda slowly looked over the audience.]

"WE IS AT WAR.

"Th' Faces o' Death an' th' Inner Circle.

"An' we gots th' best tag team... Th' bes' equipment... Th' bes' backup... Th' bes' spirit, an' th' bes' leada' in th world! By god, I akchully pity th' poor suckas we's goin' up agains'.

"By god, I do."

[A moment's silence, before someone stood.]

"Mr. Splenda? Did you just quote George S. Patton?"

"Shut up, dis ain't a press conf'rence. I's got some stuff t' say."

[Splenda waved a hand dismissively, even as people began to shift in their seats. So... He just ripped off a quote from Patton, he's not trying to attribute it to him... Great...]

"We got a lot o' people in dis arena tonight. Hayseed mo'fuggas like Dusty Griffith, Mexijap wannabes like Lightnin', demon wannabes like Freemantle..."

[A gasp rippled through the audience, and Splenda damn near jumped the podium.]

"YOU HEARD MY ASS FUCK DAT..."

[Splenda glanced offstage, and blinked, before settling some.]

"I's gon' get t' Freemantle."

[Splenda adjusted his shiny gold pimp-tie.]

"Now. Dusty, Lightnin', Paige, Easton, Python an' Brooks. Alla yo' asses is good fellas, bas'k'lly, who like t' wrastle. Well, when Serbo puts Blasier in th' groun', any o' you who win Summer Games...

"Come on down South. We'd love t' have ya."

[Splenda smirked brightly.]

"Now... As for some o' th' non-awesome fellas... We've got Aaron Vasquez..."

[A finger came up.]

"Aaron. Don't win. Dat's a warnin'. Yo' ass will die if you get in th' ring wif Serbo."

[A shake of the head, and a muttered "Busta..."]

"We got Olympus and Rayne and Noah Hanson... All dumb busta-ass bitches who don't got no respek fo' nobody.

"Yo' asses is welcome t' win Summer Games, but we's gonna beat yo' asses into th' ground if y' do. Me an' my bwoy Serbo."

[Fist slammed into palm.]

"Into th' GROUN'."

[Splenda took a breath, letting the room go silent for a moment.]

"An' finally... We got London Freemantle.

"Freemantle, you's a busta playahatin' cracka dumbass bitch an' you ain't scary.

"I was involved in wrestlin' back in the late 90s. They was demon wannabe bitches in every fed. E'ry wrestling company had a Damien or a Lucifer or a Satan... An' you's no different.

"Just a wannabe badass demon busta, jus' like all o' them. You say how yo' ass is gonna rape an' mutilate an' pillage...

"Yo ass ain't scary, nucca! Dat's th' same old shit I heard every day, but th' only difference is, yo' ass is allowed t' bite an' hit people wif weapons, because yo' ass was in Team Danger.

"Fuck yo' wannabe demon ass, gangsta. Closest we's gonna get to th' devil is Victor Mandrake, an' dat's because his ass is th' Lord o' Lies an' th' Bloated Antagonis' o' th' Righteous. Which he is."

[Splenda shook his head, before spitting to the side.]

"An' now, we come t' Ryan Blasier, th' Worl' Champ."

[This was the point where one Sergeiev Bogorovich, AWA Heavyweight Champion and Warlord I, stepped out from stage right, and moved to Splenda's side. Splenda blinked, and stepped aside, to allow Serbo the mike.]

[Serbo leaned in, eyes hard, cold, and locked on the camera.]

"Blasier. In this fight... We fight to the end."

[And Serbo straightened, snatched up his championship belt, and left, to stage right, from whence he came. Splenda blinked some, and leaned back to the mike.]

"Maybe yo' asses don't know what he's talkin' 'bout now, but B'LEE ME. You will when it's over. Serbo! Wait up!"

[And Splenda turned and ran after, waving a hand and his pimp-stick in the air. The fans and assembled reporters blinked, and shook their heads. How could a man so scrawny have such a big mouth?]

A Champion's Declaration
Ryan Blasier

[In the ring, united eight-strong, stand the group of individuals loosely dubbed the Inner Circle.]

[Josh Styles, Khalid Jad.]

[Abraham Lozada.]

[Aaron Vasquez and his foot soldiers, Lukey and Papes.]

[The bodyguard Cunningham.]

[And standing at the lead of the pack, the reigning king of the hill in the World Wrestling Alliance.]

[The WWA World champion.]

[Your WWA World champion.]

[Ryan Blasier.]

[With microphone in hand, the most hated man in wrestling paces a small circle around the ring, his henchmen standing still, arms folded over chests, watching him, and watching any who might be tempted to cause harm to him.]

[The home crowd, cheering on their AWA representatives, cheering on Blasier's opponent later this evening, Sergeiev Bogorovich, serenades Blasier and his crew with the kind of reception reserved for ...]

[Blasier doesn't care. The smile on his face grows wider with each curse lobbed his way, with each item of debris tossed at him, with each murderous glare aimed in his direction. He loves it. Enjoys it.]

Blasier: "Tonight, you people finally get what you've been waiting for. Tonight, I put this title on the line against your boy, Bogorovich ..."

[A thunderous ovation causes him to pause, waiting until they've quieted enough for him to be heard.]

Blasier: "For months, it's been coming. A confrontation between the two most dominant forces in the World Wrestling Alliance. A battle for supremacy, where the winner can say, once and for all, that there is no one ... no one better than him."

[Another pause.]

Blasier: "Sergeiev Bogorovich earned this shot, by coming out of Crown of War as the first ever Warlord. Tonight, he gets a chance to prove whether he'll be the one to take this belt off my shoulder, or whether he'll join other men like John Henry, Shane Steele, and David Paige, who could never manage to defeat me."

[Smirk.]

Blasier: "Bogorovich, you've talked yourself up, sculpting yourself into this unstoppable machine, to the point where I'm somehow seen as a massive underdog in our match. Bravo for that, Serbo, because you've managed to fool the entire world into thinking our match is a foregone conclusion, with you coming out on top."

[He glances back at Jad.]

Blasier: "You even had the audacity to try and recruit one of my own to your cause."

[Jad visibly winces, whether due to the memory of the event Blasier is referring to, or because he believes Blasier suspects he has contemplated the offer more than he should, only Jad knows for certain.]

[Blasier ignores his minion's reaction and turns to address the crowd once more. He holds his arms out wide.]

Blasier: "I'm waiting for you to do your worst, Sergeiev. Bring everything you've got. Don't hold back. I want you ...No, I beg you to bring your A-game to the ring. Because when I beat you ... and believe me, I will defeat you ... when I beat you, I don't want there to be any excuses."

[The smile fades, replaced by a stare with the intensity of a thousand suns.]

Blasier: "Tonight, I'm ending the charade. Tonight, I'll pull back the curtain, revealing the weak old man behind it. Sergeiev Bogorovich will fall to me, and in the process, I'll cement my place in WWA history as the only man to successfully defend the World title at Summer Games ... twice."

[Unstrapping the World title from around his waist, he holds it in his left hand, his right still occupied clutching the microphone. He hoists the belt up to eye level, staring back at the dressing room as if in open challenge.]

Blasier: "This is what it's all about. Tonight, the entire World Wrestling Alliance gets a chance to earn their shot at this belt. It doesn't matter whether you're in Old Line Wrestling, Hudson River Wrestling, Gladiators of the Eternal City, the All-Star Wrestling Association, the American Wrestling Federation, the West Coast Wrestling Association, or not even a part of the Alliance. Tonight, you men and women have your opportunity at greatness."

[Behind him, Khalid Jad's expression remains dour. While the others seem to be listening intently to Blasier's words, Jad appears to be, for lack of a better word, brooding.]

Blasier: "Normally, there's a long, long line waiting to get a shot at me and my title. Tonight, whoever wins the Summer Games tournament, gets to jump to the head of the line. They get to leap frog over each and every one of their fellow wrestlers, and earn a shot at the greatest prize in our industry. Tonight, one lucky son of a bitch is going to have their dream come true."

[Lowering the belt, he drapes it over his left shoulder, then leans on the top rope with his elbows.]

Blasier: "It could be any number of individuals. Dusty Griffith, London Freemantle, Justin Brooks, David Paige, Johnny Lightning, Python, or ..."

[Glancing back over his shoulder, he looks pointedly towards Aaron Vasquez and Abraham Lozada.]

Blasier: "Either one of you."

[Both men nod at the World champion's acknowledgment of their participation in the Summer Games tournament.]

Blasier: "Whatever the case may be, whoever's destiny it is, tonight is where it all begins. So, in a rare display of sportsmanship, I want to wish each and every one of you good luck, not because I respect any of you, but because I respect what the World title represents. It's the pinnacle of our industry, and for that reason, and that reason alone, I want whoever walks out of here tonight victorious to be worthy enough to fight for it."

[Pause.]

Blasier: "It won't be an easy road, and whoever comes out victorious will have earned it with their blood, sweat, and tears. But just remember one thing."

[He holds his hand up, index finger aloft.]

Blasier: "You'll still have to defeat me, if you want to turn that title shot into a place in the history books. And believe me when I say this, the display of sportsmanship I've shown tonight won't be around when our inevitable confrontation takes place."

[As "My Hero" roars through the arena, Blasier and his contingent begin to make their way from the ring. Handshakes and back slaps are exchanged between all, except for Khalid Jad, who silently makes his exit from the ring, walking a few steps in advance of the rest of the Inner Circle.]

Match I
Team OLW
Python (Captain), Danny Vicious, Daeriq Damien, Joe Drago

vs.

Team AWF
Santino Esposito (Captain), Kraven, Duncan Aries, Zortalk

[The next match was the match-up between the representatives from Old Line Wrestling and American Wrestling Federation. The Minnesota-based AWF team entered first, lead by Santonio Esposito, followed by Duncan Aries, Kraven, and Awesome-O. Awesome-O unsuccessfully starts an "AWESOME-O!" chant, but hops down with a sense of accomplishment anyway.]

[After the AWF team is settled in the ring Daeriq Damien comes out first for the Maryland-based OLW team. The crowd seemed to like 'Imperium' by Machine Head, Damien's entrance song, and started to clap along. They gave the Mid-Atlantic and Chesapeake champion some cheers. Joe Drago was up next, he garnered a few cheers as he met up with Damien. Danny Vicious was after Drago, and the fans booed him. He started shouting Katrina slurs to the New Orleans crowd. The boos stopped and was immediately turning to very load cheers as the fans heard "Broadcast Quality" by Receiving End of Sirens. The crowd roars as the OLW Champion, Python runs down to greet his teammates at the end of the ramp. The four slide in the ring at the same time, causing the four members of Team AWF to step back into their corner.]

[Daeriq Damien is picked as OLW's starter for the night. The four members of AWF start talking amongst themselves on the apron on who should join Damien in the ring. After a bit of discussion, Duncan Aries lifts his hands in the air and enters the ring. Aries meets Damien in the middle of the ring, and they tie up. Damien with a quick knee to the gut followed by an Irish whip to the ropes sent Aries barreling back towards him only to be met with a vicious clothesline that ended very badly. Aries got whirled around and landed right on his head, knocking him out cold.]



















1…



















2…



















THREE!!



















Duncan Aries eliminated by Daeriq Damien @ 1:04

[Kraven hops in to the ring and kicks Damien in the mid section. Damien gets back up with a left hook that would give Mike Tyson a run for his money. Damien trips up Kraven and starts to lock in a crossface. Kraven's back foot is able to get to the ropes immediately, and he gets up looking for a dropkick, but with no success and hits the mat. Damien gets Kraven to his feet and whips him to the ropes and is hit with a crushing spear. Damien brings Kraven to the OLW corner and tags in Joe Drago. Drago hits a few lefts and rights on Kraven before hitting a huge spinning heel kick.]

[Kraven, on the ground, grabs Python's left leg and pull it, knocking down the nineteen year old. Python gets back up and asks for a tag. Drago gives it to him, and the fans give a loud cheer when the young leader of the team steps into the ring. Python hits a dropkick on Kraven as he gets up. Kraven gets back to his feet, only to be hit with a crossbody. Python gets the cover.]



















1…



















2…



















[Kraven kicks out before the three. He gets back to his feet and tries to hit a superkick, but Python moves his head. Python hits a beautifully executed somersault roll into head scissors takedown. Python tags in Damien. Kraven is on his feet, groggy from being in the ring so long, tries to tag in Esposito, but couldn't reach as Damien grabs him from behind. Kraven turns around and hits a DDT on an unsuspecting Damien. Kraven gets back to his feet and hits a huge spinebuster on a shocked Daeriq Damien. Kraven gets the cover.]



















1…



















2…



















[Daeriq kicks out. Tag to Esposito. Santonio gets to work on the downed Damien with a standing elbow drop to the back. He brings Damien to his feet and whips him into the corner to meet a boot from Awesome-O. He puts him on the top rope and tags in Awesome-O. The two grab Damien and hit a double underhook suplex on Damien. Awesome-O quickly gets the cover.]



















1…



















2…



















[Daeriq shows a quick sign of life and saves himself from elimination. Awesome-O whips him into the ropes and hits a devastating kitchen sink on Damien. Damien lies on the ground, holding his ribs. Awesome-O gets Damien back to his feet and hits a snap suplex. Awesome-O gets the cover, but Damien immediately kicks out. Danny Vicious starts stomping on the apron, wanting a tag. Damien gets to his feet reaches, but fails as Awesome-O grabs him by the ankle. Damien quickly hits an enzijuri. The crowd makes a huge, roaring cheer after Damien's foot made contact with Awesome-O's skull. Damien begins to crawl to his corner. Awesome-O is on his knees, dazed. Danny Vicious starts stomping even more for a tag and finally gets it.]

[Vicious comes running into the ring, knocking down both Esposito and Kraven from the apron. Awesome-O gets up only to be hit with a powerslam. Kraven slides into the ring and is hit by a big boot from Vicious. Esposito now gets in the ring and thrown back out of the ring by Danny. Vicious puts Awesome-O on his feet and sets up his version of the running powerbomb, the Canadian Bombshell. He lifts Awesome-O in the air, and the impact of the move makes the entire ring shake. Awesome-O is lying limp in the center of the ring. Kraven and Esposito get back up and try to double team Vicious, but Joe Drago grabs Esposito from behind, and they fight outside the ring. Senior AWA referee Kenny Allen checks up on the out cold Awesome-O and calls for the bell.]

Awesome-O eliminated by Danny Vicious @ 10:21

[Kraven, who is in the ring, now in a headlock, courtesy of Danny Vicious, is now the legal man. The referee tries to separate Drago and Esposito, as Kraven sneaks a low blow on Vicious. Vicious falls to his knees in agony and is the immediately victim of a dropkick to the head. Kraven tries to take a shot at Python on the apron, but the OLW Champ ducks and hits a left of his own. Vicious gets back to his feet. Kraven tries to hit a spear-like move, but Vicious easily catches him and tosses him aside. Python wants a tag, and Vicious reluctantly gives it to him.]

[Python gets on the top rope, looks down at the downed Kraven. He leaps of the top rope with a double backflip splash, or more commonly known as Python's finisher, Code Red. Python hooks the leg.]



















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2…



















THREE!



















Kraven eliminated by Python @ 13:10

[Python quickly rolls to tag in Daeriq Damien. Santonio Esposito is now looking at a four on one disadvantage. Daeriq Damien gets in but is kicked in the gut by Esposito and he quickly hits a sitting facebuster, a.k.a. Thunderstruck. Esposito gets the cover.]



















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2…



















THREE!

Daeriq Damien eliminated by Santonio Esposito @ 13:42

[Danny Vicious is back in the ring with anger. He is immediately caught in a dropkick from Esposito. Santonio quickly locks in his Santonio Hitch submission move on Vicious's throat. Vicious tries to get up with the move locked in, but is failing miserably. He tries to fight out of it, but his energy is being sapped out of his body with every wiggle. He eventually drops his arms. The referee calls for the bell.]

Danny Vicious eliminated by Santonio Esposito @ 14:09

[Python and Joe Drago drag look at each other in shock. Within thirty seconds, Santonio Esposito single handedly eliminated half of Team OLW. Joe Drago enters the ring. Esposito tries to hit a crossbody on Drago, but Joe ducks and Esposito flies right over him. Esposito gets back to his feet and is met with a barrage of strikes from Joe Drago. Drago whips him into the OLW corner and tags in Python. Python tells Drago to get him out of the corner. Esposito stumbles out of the corner and Python hits his trademark "Snake Bite" into the ring. Python gets the cover.]



















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2…



















WHAT?!?!?!

[Santonio Esposito somehow gets a shoulder up. Python gets back up, pretty surprised. Esposito gets to his feet and dives for his corner, forgetting his teammates have been eliminated. Python hits a running senton on Esposito. He gets Esposito back on his feet and whips him back to the OLW corner. Tag to Drago.]

[Drago decides that a Snake Bite isn't enough and signals for the Wolf Bite. The crowd cheers as the move lays out Esposito in the middle of the ring. Drago gets the cover.]



















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2….



















[Python is counting along with the referee as well as the crowd.]



















THREE!!!!!!



















Santonio Esposito eliminated by Joe Drago @ 15:50

[The bell sounds as Drago and Python stand in the ring with their hands in the air.]

Going Up!
Jericho Dylan

[It's total chaos backstage at Summer Games... Summer Games is by far the biggest event in the WWA, and it's an honor and a privilege to participate. Take now, if you will, a rookie with three wins under his belt. Three consecutive wins, at that. He's been in the WWA for less than three months, and he's part of Summer Games. Team AWA, to be precise. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, one of the hottest stars to hit the WWA since Cobra is here... And if you don't recognize his name, then here's your chance to start learning it. I give you Louisiana's own... "The Soulveyer" Jericho Dylan. He's got a smallish room off to one side near the Team AWA locker room... There's an interviewer outside his door waiting to pounce on him and drown him with endless questions and he gets his chance when Jericho comes out to get some water.]

"Jericho. A word if you please."

[Jericho's face contorts with annoyance at being interrupted...]

Jericho: Get on with it... I'm a busy man.

"First of all, why are you on Team AWA for Summer Games?"

Jericho: Edward Nair felt I was worthy enough to compete with his veterans and I gladly took him up on his offer.

"Okay. What possessed you to sign with the WWA in the first place?"

Jericho: Opportunity.

"Why the AWA in particular?"

Jericho: It suits my needs.

[The interviewer is beginning to look very perplexed... This isn't going according to plan!]

"So who do you think your other three opponents are in the first round?"

Jericho: Does it look like I care who they are? In the end, it doesn't matter if it's Ryan Blasier, Sergeiev Bogorovich, "The Nightbringer" Ryan Corey and "Violent" Evan Hurley over there! They're going down just like everyone else who winds up losing. The bigger they are, the harder they fall!

"Isn't that just a tiny bit arrogant?"

Jericho: It isn't arrogance when you hold all the cards.

[The interviewer mulls that over and Jericho takes the opportunity to get himself a bottle of water. When he comes back, the interviewer has one more question for him.]

"One more question if I may."

Jericho: Ask away.

"What if you're the only one from Team AWA who advances?"

Jericho: Then it's fate.

"Fate?"

Jericho: Fate, destiny, karma, kismet... It doesn't matter what you call it, but if I'm the only one from Team AWA to make it past the first round, then it was meant to be. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to take care of.

[And he pushes past the interviewer to go back into his dressing room, leaving the man with the distinct feeling he's been suckered.]

Backstage with The Seine
Christian Light

Crystal Gale: "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my very surprised pleasure to present to you the member of Team World Wrestling Alliance billed as the Seine, and my former boss, Christian Light!"

[Mixed reaction. Light is a good guy, sure, but he's going against the home team, which is bad.]

Light: "Hey Crystal!"

[In walks the Last Nighthawk, in his blue wrestling tights and a silver sequined ring jacket with the word "Seine" written in blue across the back and left breast of the jacket. Christian and Crystal exchange a quick friendly hug; it's clear Crystal is glad to see Christian.]

Light: "How's life?"

Crystal: "Not bad, yourself?"

Light: "I can't complain much, since I'm getting back in the ring."

[An awkward pause from Crystal, which Light seems to deflect away with a large grin.]

Crystal: "Yeah, about that...how do you feel about your first match back being against the fed you were last associated with?"

Light: How do I feel?

[Light shoots Crystal a questioning look.]

Light: "Let me put it to you this way. When I step out into the arena, yeah, I'm gonna be staring across the ring from three familiar faces and one guy who's not so familiar to me. But the bottom line is, this isn't a war. This isn't me vs. the AWA. I hold no ill will towards Marc Hightower and the rest of the AWA organization whatsoever over my mutually agreed upon release from the front office. In fact, Marc and I had a conversation a couple minutes ago, jokin' around and just...being us. Everyone involved knows that it's just business, from the ring crew all the way up to Adrien and Dark Angel.

At least I hope they know, because if they don't, they're gonna get their heads knocked off four ways from Sunday. They can't focus on me when we have three other guys that will take them out real quick."

Crystal: "Have you met your partners yet, Chris?"

[Light shakes his head.]

Light: "Haven't met them, haven't been paying attention to the promo channels, don't know who they are, and to be perfectly honest, I don't think I care. What I know is that they're here for the same reason I am...to walk out of this ring the Summer Games Champion. I've gone it alone before, against Riley and Mara, and if I have to do it again against the likes of Paige, Cochrane, Angel, and Dylan, I will do it again to make these finals. But you know what? It's not anything any of them wouldn't do either.

So gentlemen, in just a few minutes, Team WWA is going to step into that arena, across the ring from the hometown team. And like I've said before, I'm imploring you, all of you, to step up. Test yourself against me. Fail, and you know that you're not strong enough to challenge for the World Title just yet. Succeed, and you may just have what it takes to beat Ryan Blasier.

But either way, I'm bringing my all. Are you?"

[And with that, Christian exits stage right.]

Here Goes Nothing...
Adrien Cochrane

[Camera opens to a dressing room. It turns to reveal Adrien Cochrane, stretching his legs. The fans cheer their hometown hero. He has a bottle of Gatorade next to him and takes a swig of it. Suddenly, the door opens and Edward Nair walks in.]

Adrien: What the hell do you want?

Nair: Can't I come in one of my wrestlers' locker room without getting my head chopped off?

Adrien: What do you mean "one of your wrestlers"? You're firing me after this show!

[Edward Nair smirks.]

Nair: I tell you what, if you win Summer Games, I'll re-sign you.

[Adrien stands up.]

Adrien: That's bullshit! Listen, I offered to take a pay cut. I don't need a big contract. The AWA is about ten percent of my income. I don't need the money. I've had enough of this nonsense that this is about money because it's not. You want me out of here for some other reason.

Nair: You want me to tell you what's bullshit? The fact that you have not done a damn thing in your three years! Three years and you have never once held a title. You want to talk about bullshit, how about the fact that the biggest accomplishment you made was surviving the first round of Summer Games last year because you had the eventual winner, Josh Styles, to hide behind. Adrien, I've had enough of your talk about how you don't need the money. After Summer Games, go focus on your music career. At least you're okay at that.

Adrien: You just don't get it, do you?

[Edward Nair walks up to look the taller Adrien Cochrane in the eye.]

Nair: No, you don't get it. You're a bust, a flop. You'll be nothing more than some overrated hack. You have done nothing but get in the way of the real talents on our roster.

[Adrien gives Nair a smirk of confidence.]

Adrien: If you say so. By the way, when I go out there and help bring Team AWA to victory, I won't be doing it for you. I'm doing it for David, Jericho, and Ken. They have done nothing but work their asses off and all they get in return is to be put down by you. You know what! This is not an AWA event. You can get the hell out of my locker room.

Nair: You're telling me to get out? What the hell are you going to do to me? You're too honorable to lay a hand on an older man like me.

Adrien: You know what, you want to stay. Go right ahead. I want to rehearse an If All Fails song real quick.

[Adrien picks up an acoustic guitar and strums a chord. As soon as he opens his mouth, Edward Nair immediately starts heading out the door.]

Nair: Dear God!! Please, no!! I'm gone!! Anything but that!!

[Nair scampers out of the room. Adrien laughs with a sense of accomplishment. He looks at his cell phone.]

Adrien: It's almost time! Well, here goes nothing…

Fahrenheit 666
London Freemantle

[Backstage in the Superdome.]

[The Hollowman stalks down a hallway, looking for either his locker room, catering or some cocaine.]

[He stops in front of a steel door after doing a double take.]

"Can't be that easy."

[The piece of paper taped to the door reads, "Team AWA."]

"Shit, I guess it is that easy."

[He backtracks down the hall quickly to the fire station. A hard elbow breaks out the protective glass and he grabs the fire axe and the extinguisher. With a sick smile on his face he heads back down the Team AWA's door.]

[The Master of Puppets quickly wedges the blade of the axe into the doorframe. On the other side he locks the handle of the axe under the door latch. Then he knocks...]

[In a second or so there is the sound of someone trying to open the door and failing at that miserably. Curses soon follow, then someone tries to yank the door off it's hinges.]

"Perfect."

[Freemantle puts the nozzle of the fire extinguisher under the door and squeezes the handle hard. A little of the white foam kicks back at him, but most of it spreads into the room. The curses are quickly replaced by sounds of confusion, then fear, then anger.]

[He just keeps holding the handle until the extinguisher ruins dry. When it's finally done he flings the spent cylinder down the hall then kicks the door. Hard.]

"Have a nice night, faggots!"

...bonedaggers...

Welcome to Nola
Johnny Lightning

[Louisiana Superdome. Loading Dock.]

[A white GMC Safari conversion van pulls into view behind the Louisiana Superdome.]

[The loading dock, usually reserved for catering trucks and tour buses, also serves as parking for the talent.]

[Pretty sweet deal, actually.]

[The van passes in front of the camera, revealing a large fluorescent orange parking pass inside the windshield marked "TALENT".]

[The van pulls into the nearest spot, and the entourage of Johnny Lightning emerges from the large sliding door on the passenger side of the van.]

[The first three out of the van wear matching "Swillburg Athletic Performance" polo shirts.]

[The next out of the van is OLW's own Christopher Barton, wearing street clothes. He looks hungry.]

[Finally, last out of the van is Johnny Lightning himself, accompanied by Sammy Hayes. He is wearing an all-white Adidas warm-up suit and a cool pair of aviator shades. She, well, she looks absolutely stunning in a flattering, yet conservative, black dress.]

Barton: Fuckin' New Orrrrrleans! I'll tell you what buddy, this is the big time, sho' nuff. I bet they'll have at least ten different kinds of hot sauce..

Johnny: Chris, buddy, you've been speculating on the quality of the catering since we left the goddamn hotel. Relax man, I'm sure there will be plenty of good food inside.

Sammy: Hey, why don't you guys run on in and get everything ready for us? I gotta talk to Johnny real quick, ok?

Barton: Sure, that just means I get to eat faster.. c'mon guys [he motions to the three SAP employees] let's get a move on. Everyone have their badges?

[The three men nod, and follow Johnny towards the security pavilion setup by the loading dock doors.]

Sammy: Johnny.. babe.. look, I know how much you've been preparing for all this.. and, well, I know how you dealt with the whole RC--

Johnny: [cutting her off.] Darlin', I know where you're headed with this.. and don't worry about it. This week, everything is coming up Johnny.

Sammy: But.. what if.. what if your luck runs out? What if you don't win?

Johnny: The way I see it, there's only a few people in this whole contest that can beat me, and, well, two of 'em are on my team. I'm not worried about losin', darlin'.

Sammy: Well, how can you be so confident?

Johnny: Sammy, you've known me a long time, and you know that I never, eeeeever doubt myself when it comes to performing in that ring. You know why?

Sammy: Well, I just always assumed it was because it was your thing.. like, there goes Johnny, confident as ever.. it's part of what makes you so cute.

Johnny: [stammering] Well, uh, um, I, uh, I guess I never looked at it that way..

[He composes himself.]

But, um, where was I? Oh yeah. I never doubt myself, because the second you do, the second you think 'Maybe I can't do it.. Maybe I can't win this one'. Well, self-fulfilling prophecy. You've already lost.

Sammy: And if, despite all else, you do lose?

Johnny: Well, darlin', then I suppose I have to deal with the fact that, in terms of The List, two out of three ain't bad.

[He moves in and kisses her, as the camera fades to black.]

Bonedagger and Nail
Team WWA

[Backstage in the Superdome.]

[Team WWA locker room.]

[On benches across from each other Adam Burke and Evan Hurley go through the motions of preparing for a match. Tightening shoelaces and all that good stuff.]

EH: "Well, this is a good start. You and I, I mean."

AB: "I hear you. I wonder who else they're getting? Have you heard anything?"

[Burke looks over to see Hurley shaking his head in negation.]

EH: "Nah. This whole thing is hush hush. I'll bet you it's someone that used to be in the NWA though. I heard that we're the replacement team since the NWA didn't send one this year."

AB: "Ha. So, since they didn't send a team, our management is going to make up a team full of people that used to be in the NWA, but call it Team WWA?"

[Hurley looks up from his shoelaces and nods.]

EH: "Well, that's my guess."

AB: "That's awesome. I love working for this company."

[Just as the Tiger says those words, there is a sharp knock at the door, then it swings open. Burke and Hurley drop what they're doing, both their necks craning to the door at the same time.]

[In walks Christian Light. The Last Nighthawk.]

CL: "Well, well. What is this, a reunion show?"

[The room's two previous occupants quickly stand up and head over to greet Light. There is a round of handshakes, well wishes, how you beens and laughs.]

[After a moment they finally let Light get in the room and settled. They start talking again as Light gets prepared.]

CL: "So, just us so far?"

EH: "Yeah, Adam and I shared a cab from the airport, and there was no one here when we got here, so yeah."

CL: "I see they're going with a theme so far."

AB: "I was just mentioning that. We should just go ask Mandrake if we can be announced as Team NWA."

[Evan whistles under his breath.]

EH: "That's just cold hearted."

[Burke just shrugs.]

CL: "Any ideas on the fourth guy? I guess it's safe to assume he'll have done some time in the Neewah."

AB: "I'd say so. What about Mike Bell? Anyone seen him around lately?"

EH: "Nah. Not in months. I sure wouldn't mind if it was him. Talk about making an impression."

CL: "You bet. Mike is alright. What about Ramsey? That would be a big deal if they could get him on one more show."

EH: "Jason Ramsey? That'd be friggin' epic. If it's him, someone has to take my picture with him, okay? Who knows how much longer he'll be alive..."

AB: "I got you covered."

[As he says this, Burke waves his official Naruto cell phone in the air.]

CL: "Well, worst case scenario then. What's the worst that could happen?"

[The other two men answer simultaneously.]

"Brian Fisher!"

[Everyone laughs.]

[They go back to readying themselves for the match. After a few minutes more, Christian Light looks up at the clock. It appears to be stopped at 6:16.]

CL: "Weird. The clock is stopped. Anyone got the time? We should be getting close to our call..."

[He's cut off as the door slams open.]

[In walks a scourge.]

[A ghoul.]

[A ghost.]

[A certified monster.]

[A complete menace to public safety issues in 47 states.]

[The Hollowman.]

[London "Fucking" Freemantle.]

LF: "Chris."

[He nods.]

LF: "Boys."

[Two more nods.]

LF: "I'm your partner tonight."

[Hurley and Burke exchange a double take and a "what the fuck."]

[Christian Light is just staring at Freemantle, like he's seeing a ghost. Which he is. It's a very confusing irony.]

LF: "Here's how we're going to do this. Vic wants me to play it straight just for tonight, so I am. Y'all watch my back, stay the fuck out of my way, and y'all don't fuckin' get pinned. Chris, makes sure Team Gay Dubya Gay don't try nothin' stupid."

[Christian Light has finally recovered his world class composure.]

CL: "Uh, Free. Where you been?"

LF: "Long story, hoss. How 'bout we catch up after this bullshit is done. Beers are me. You boys are invited along as well, 'long as you don't fuck nothin' up tonight, we clear?"

[Burke and Hurley nod, still utterly confused/shocked/amazed at what's happening right before their eyes.]

LF: "I gotta go see a man about a horse. See you boys out there."

[Freemantle offers Light his knuckles, which are returned, then he turns and heads out the room as quickly as he came. The door flaps shut loudly, startling the room out of it's stupor.]

AB: "So...what was that we were saying about worst case scenarios?"

EH: "Ha. I think it just walked out the door."

[Light shakes his head "no."]

CL: "Nah. We'll be fine, boys. Just do what he says. If London wants to win this, we're winning. Trust me. I know the man as well as anyone."

[He pauses.]

CL: "I think..."

Match II
Team AWA
David Paige (Captain), Adrien Cochrane, The Dark Angel, Adam Burke

vs.

Team WWA
London Freemantle (The Styx, Captain), Christian Light (The Seine), Evan Hurley (The Congo), Adam Burke (The Tigris)

AYYYYEYYYYEYYYYEEEYYYYEAAAAAHHHEAAHHHHH

[The crowd explodes at the familiar opening to the Irish favorite, and newest member of the AWA roster, "Irish Fire" David Paige. He stands at the entrance ramp, his hooded sweatshirt over his head, eyes on the floor as the drums begin to pound. When the distortion hits, Paige throws back the hood, revealing his face to the crowd as green fire explodes behind him. However, Paige just happens to be dusted with a light white frost, or mist...]

Robertson: "HE IS THE CAPTAIN OF TEAM AWA, "IRISH FIRE"... DAVID... PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIGE!"

[Or extinguisher blast.]

[He makes his way to the ring, reaching out and clapping hands with the fans on either side of him. He slides casually into the ring, pointing to the crowd as he enters. Removing his sweatshirt, he is wearing underneath it the AWA team t-shirt, getting an extra cheer from the crowd.]

[The lights dim, and the arena grows quiet.]

Robertson: And his partner, from New Orleans, Louisiana. Weighing in at 207 pounds...ADRIEN COCHRANE!

[The opening chords to "Original Prankster" by the Offspring echoes throughout the arena. As soon as the electric guitar kicks in, Adrien Cochrane comes in from behind the curtain and the crowd goes nuts. He starts jogging down the ramp, giving fans high fives on his way down. He slides into the ring and gets ready to start the match.]

[It would have been an amusing visual, if it wasn't for the fact that Adrien was covered, head-to-foot in white fire extinguisher fluid. However, as a consummate prankster himself... He couldn't really fault someone for playing a trick on him.]

Robertson: And their partner, fallen from Heaven... THE DARK ANGEL!

[The lights dim, "Sober" by Tool starts up, after the song intro ends a bright white spotlight shines down onto the ring. The Dark Angel steps out wearing his trademark black leather trench coat. He pauses at the entrance and looks around the arena, studying the crowd. Angel, under his trenchcoat, was covered with the same damn powder that his partners were. He slowly makes his way down to the ring, climbs in, removes his trenchcoat, and hands it to the ring crew.]

Robertson: "AND THEIR FINAL PARTNER... HE IS THE SOULVEYER... JERICHO! DYLAN!"

[The fans look around, then focus their attention on the ramp. A few small sparkler style explosions are seen, then the big screen lights up. A flash of lightning, then part of a face. Another flash of lightning, then more of the face.]

[A third flash of lightning, then even more of the face is revealed. A fourth flash of lightning and the face turns out to be that of the one and only Jericho Dylan! The fans erupt in a tumult of screams and rise up to greet him. The big screen starts to roll, showcasing highlights of Jericho's storied career. Pyro starts going off, red, white and blue.]

[At the last word, a billowing white fog engulfs the top of the ramp. When it dies down, there's a man in a cloak standing there. Work roughened hands come up and flip the hood back to reveal the face they've seen on the big screen. However, unlike the screen, Dylan is covered with a white powder, just like Adrien, Paige and the Angel!]

[However, at the sight of the Soulveyer's face, the crowd rises to its feet and starts cheering. Jericho salutes the crowd and comes down the ramp, slapping hands and giving hugs. He's got a huge smile on his face, regardless of the powder... He literally feeds on their energy! Hopping up the stairs, he grins at the crowd, then catapults himself over the top rope, landing on his feet! Their screams of appreciation don't go unnoticed as he vaults up onto the nearest turnbuckle and throws his arms back. The fans scream even louder, if that's possible! At each of the successive turnbuckles, red, white and blue pyro stream out of the other corners. He throws off his cloak and a loud concussive blast of gold pyro brings the lights back up to their usual level. Jericho spins around in a circle, stopping to face the ramp, leaning forward, hands resting just above his knees. He's ready for whatever comes his way!]

Robertson: "AND THEIR OPPONENTS..."

[Mass Murder Machine by Black Label Society begins playing over the arenas sound system, the entrance screen pulses along with the songs base line sending a dim green strobe out over the crowd.]

Robertson: "HE IS THE CONGO..."

[A thick smoke billows up from underneath the stage, filling the entrance area.]

Robertson: "HE IS THE VIOLENT ONE..."

[Several moments pass before a thick silhouette is seen standing amidst the smoke. Long time fans of the two alliances know already who this mystery man is, his name whipping around the audience from fan to fan in a wave of excitement.]

[Finally out from the smoke steps the ultimate underachiever, the violent one himself 'Violent' Evan Hurley. Clad in his trademark green and black, his beard hanging down over his chest in two long braids, his wild brown hair pulled back, he salutes the crowd he left behind when he retired from WWA Ireland last year. The reaction seems to take Hurley by surprise, the hardcores in the crowd chanting his name loud and proud.]

Robertson: "EVAN! HUUUUUUUUUUUUUURLEY!"

[His eyes locked on the ring he pops his neck and goes about checking the black athletic tape around his wrists as he slowly matches towards the ring to revisit a career he thought he'd left dead and buried.]

[Then, darkness.]

[Air raid sirens echo throughout the Superdome, coinciding with the white and blue spotlights that now circle the arena.]

[The sound of guns and helicopters echo over the air raid sirens, then fade out. As they fade, all spotlights focus on the entrance to the arena.]

Robertson: "HE IS THE SEINE..."

[The guitar kicks in, and the curtain parts. Out steps the man promoted as the Seine, but more well-known as "The Last Nighthawk". His blue and white tights haven't changed in years and years...why change something that works so well? His blonde flattop also is unchanged. What's different is the white with blue sequin warmup jacket that reads "The Seine" on the back in cursive script.]

Robertson: "THE LAST NIGHTHAWK..."

[He takes a few steps forward as "Indestructible" Disturbed pumps through the speakers, accompanied by a throng of cheers from the fans.]

[As the first verse is about to begin, Christian raises his hands in the air, balled into fists. The result is a shower of fireworks, white and blue, criss crossing over each other behind Christian over the stage. This manages to drown out both the crowd and the first verse of the song. After a good couple of seconds, Christian puts his hands down.]

Robertson: "CHRISTIAN.... LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

[Walking down the aisle, The Last Nighthawk slaps the hands of all the fans that he can with a smile on his face. He laps around the ring, making sure to catch the hands of every fans ]

[After fully lapping the ringside area, Light slides into the ring. Standing up in the middle, he raises both his arms into the air, hands balled into fists. Slowly he turns around to all four sides of the ring, acknowledging the fans with both fists in the air.]

[Unzipping his jacket, The Last Nighthawk throws it down over his corner ring post. He then does some final stretching as his music fades.]

[He is ready.]

Robertson: "HE IS THE TIGRIS..."

[The squeadlee-ing guitars hit, before the hard-hitting drums... "Your Time Has Come", by Audioslave hit the house speakers.]

[Out from the back, dressed in an old, black GI, tiger printed on the back, stepped the third member of Team WWA... Knuckles clenched under those fingerless MMA gloves, bare feet bouncing on the steel of the entryway ramp.]

["The Tiger".]

Robertson: "THE TIGER..."

[Adam Burke.]

Robertson: "AAAAAAAAAAADAAAAAAAAAM BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURKE!"

[Burke quickstepped down to the ring, surprised how many fans remembered him. It had taken a lot to get him here... But he at least looked like he was enjoying the adulation. If nothing else, he would have a fun match...]

[Burke slid in under the bottom rope.]

[Guitars hit the house speakers. It was a really familiar riff... Metallica, at its heyday. Back when their legacy still meant something, and they were one of the most brutal bands around.]

[But this particular song... It was a really popular song, but one that only one guy used.]

Robertson: "HE IS THE STYX..."

[The arena's lights dropped out completely. So did the exit lights, lights throughout the rest of the arena, and all "never-off" emergency lights.]

[It was a bit spooky, especially when a few fans bought into it, holding up lit cell phone screens, lit lighters, or cigarettes.]

[The sparkles of light were the only thing anyone could see, Metallica's "Master of Puppets" blasting over the speakers.]

Dr. John: "We've avoided talking so far, to keep from spoiling the entrances..."

Duk: "Yeah. Um. There's one guy who uses that song."

Dr. John: "I really hope it's not him, for our wrestlers' sakes..."

Duk: "It would make sense... The Styx... death... The friggin' Devil himself?"

[One single spotlight, fittingly, a bright red one, hit the entryway. Bathed in blood, the curtains parted, as the fans grew restless. Was it really him? They hoped not, he was an evil psychotic demon...]

Dr. John: "Oh... No no no."

Duk: "If he's really here, he's gonna go through everyone in the arena like tissue paper."

Dr. John: "Even Serbo?"

Duk: "... I refuse to comment, on the grounds that it may incriminate me..."

[The curtains wept, for a moment, as a single figure stepped through. The arena lit up.]

[Not literally. The cheers, screams, boos and howled insults were enough to shake the arena's very foundation. London Freemantle stepped out from the back, eyes slowly roving the arena, before snapping back to the ring. And in it... Team AWA.]

Duk: "IT IS HIM!"

Dr. John: "London Freemantle! NO!"

Duk: "Again... Tissue paper. Violently through."

[Freemantle slunk down the entryway ramp, eyes narrowed as he watched the people in the ring. Adrien Cochrane had leapt into the ropes, clinging to the top one, swinging back and forth. He was howling. Hoooooooooooowling. Dylan seemed put off, vaguely worried, although he wasn't sure what he was in for. Dark Angel had a smile on his face, even if it wasn't terribly sincere...]

[And David Paige had crouched down, hands on his knees. A trickle of sweat went down his brow, and his eyes were pinched at the corners. He put a brave face on things, even if he was worried for his safety, his wellbeing, and his success...]

Robertson: "LONdon... Uh... LONDON... FREEMANTLE."

[Freemantle came to ringside, and stopped, looking up at the ring. Adrien screamed, and hopped out of the ring, landing 'pon the mats at ringside.]

[London Freemantle just grinned, and climbed up, onto the ring apron. The rest of Team AWA bailed, as the rest of Team WWA turned to face him. Burke bowed at the waist, Hurley gave a nod of greeting...]

[And Christian Light? He offered a hand.]

[As Freemantle climbed in, under the bottom rope, he slapped Light's hand, before giving that typical, knowing grin...]

...bonedaggers...

[Freemantle turned to his teammates, as the lights slowly flickered back to life. The AWA team conferred, on the outside, and eventually, tried playing a game of rock-paper-scissors to figure out who would start. For Team WWA, they decided it would allow Burke to go in first. For Team AWA... Adrien Cochrane.]

[The bell finally rang, as Adrien and Burke stepped into the ring. The two men circled for a moment... Before they stepped forward to lock up.]

Duk: "Well... Horrible fear of the last member of team WWA aside, looks like we're getting this match going..."

Dr. John: "We've got two supremely talented individuals in the ring here, and this match is finally going to begin!"

[Adrien and Burke jockeyed for a minute... until Burke clenched his shoulders, and forced Adrien to his knees! Adrien wasn't the strongest guy on the roster... So, as Burke forced Adrien down, Adrien's eyes widened, until they damn near bugged from his head! Adrien broke his hands free, and shoved Burke back... Then leapt up, and whipped Burke off to the ropes!]

Duk: "Adrien's never been the strongest guy around, so he's gonna use his speed!"

[Burke hit the ropes, and as he came back, Adrien came flying across the ring! Leaping into the air, Adrien spun around, and damn near took Burke's head off with a vicious spinning heel kick! Burke hit the mat with a thud, as Adrien landed, and scrambled back to his feet, grinning brightly!]

Dr. John: "Adrien with the first real blood of the match!"

[Burke came back up, and Adrien hammered a boot into his stomach, sending Burke staggering back, into the corner. Adrien came dashing across the ring, and threw out an arm, hammering Burke in the stomach with a huge lariat, even as Adrien's legs went between the ropes, fluidly moving the Original Pranksta onto the apron!]

Duk: "What a clothesline!"

[Adrien leapt to the top rope, as Burke stumbled forward... And Adrien leapt off, coming down with a leg hook around the neck... And as Adrien back flipped, Burke went backwards, reverse hurricanrana'd to the ground! Adrien popped up, and brought Burke to the ring corner, hooking the arm, and tagging in Jericho Dylan!]

Dr. John: "Dylan's had an impressive win-streak so far... Can he continue on the biggest stage of them all?"

[Dylan leapt over the top, coming down with a huge elbow to the strained shoulder of Adam Burke! The Tiger staggered away, trying to work the pain out of the abused joint... and Dylan came right after him, grinning widely!]

Duk: "I think Dylan's got this all wrapped up..."

Dr. John: "Nope! Burke with a mule kick, and Dylan is staggered!"

[The Tiger hammered a knee into Dylan's stomach, before he grabbed the back of Jericho's head, and dragged the Soulveyer to the ring corner... And hammered Jericho's head into the turnbuckle! Slam after slam into the top turnbuckle, before Burke just swept Jericho's legs out from under him, dropping him to the mat.]

Dr. John: "What brutality from Burke!"

Duk: "And here comes Violent Evan Hurley, with bad intentions on his mind!"

[Hurley grabbed Dylan by the hair, and yanked him up, before he hammered a boot into the small of Dylan's back, and sent Dylan smashing, once more, into the turnbuckles! Turning, Hurley dashed across the ring, and came back, being slapped on the back by Burke as he went, only to hammer a MASSIVE boot into Dylan's face!]

Duk: "WHAT A KICK!"

Dr. John: "Biiiig yakuza from the big man, and Dylan's been taking a pretty hefty beating to the head... He's got to be seeing stars about now!"

Duk: "If he can't tag out, we may be down a man, not even ten minutes in!"

[Dylan dropped to his ass, arms resting on the turnbuckles, and Hurley moved in close, grinning... Pressing a boot to Dylan's cheek, Hurley wiped it off once... twice... And then, Hurley went dashing across the ring once more... And came back, going for a running boot to the face, but Dylan rolled out of the way!]

Duk: "Hurley crotched himself on the ropes!"

Dr. John: "Take advantage, Dylan!"

[Dylan came up, and dashed in, hammering a forearm to Hurley's jaw, sending Hurley into the ropes! With a flurry of rights, Dylan knocked Hurley for a loop, before stepping back, and damn near kicking Hurley's head off, with an absolutely BRUTAL Superkick!]

Duk: "THAT'S THE WAY!"

Dr. John: "Team AWA is still in this fight! Dylan's just gotta keep it going!"

[Dylan grabbed Hurley by the hair, and pulled him out of the turnbuckles with a vicious yank! Hooking the Violent one for a neckbreaker, Dylan drew a thumb across his throat, then leapt upwards, rotating in midair to come down with a brutal cutter!]

Dr. John: "BOURBON STREET BLUES! THAT'S DYLAN'S FINISHER!"

Duk: "PIN HIM! C'MON, DYLAN! PIN HIM!"

[Dylan rolled Hurley over, going for a pin, as the ref slid in...]



















Dr. John: "ONE!"



















Duk: "TWO!"



















[At the very last minute, Christian Light came out of nowhere, breaking the pin with a boot to the head! Light left the ring immediately, as the ref ordered, but one man jumped in at that point, and didn't leave.]

Duk: "OH GOD HERE COMES FREEMANTLE"

[London lashed out, jabbing Dylan in the eyes, blinding him. Tossing Dylan toward the WWA corner, London grabbed a hold of Hurley, and dragged his ass back to the WWA team corner... Climbed out... And tagged himself in.]

Dr. John: "Prepare for blood."

[Freemantle climbed into the ring once more, as Hurley dragged himself out, to collapse at ringside... And London began stomping away on Dylan like he was trying to cave the Soulveyer's head in! Grabbing a handful of hair, London yanked Dylan to his knees, and head butted the Soulveyer directly in the nose!]

Duk: "Oh, there it is! Dylan's bleeding from the nose!"

[London grabbed Dylan by the throat, both hands wrapped around, and yanked Dylan to his feet. Eyes grew wide, teeth bared in a feral grin, as he squeezed, Dylan's eyes bulging out of his head, almost!]

Duk: "Come on, ref! He's blatantly strangling Jericho!"

Dr. John: "Would you try to stop London Freemantle?"

[Freemantle pulled Dylan close, and whispered something in his ear... Before he let go. Grabbing a fistful of the back of Dylan's hair, Freemantle yanked Dylan down, and KNEED him right in the face! Dylan snapped his head back up, and Freemantle scooped the Soulveyer onto his shoulders...]

Dr. John: "Oh god. Fireman's carry..."

Duk: "RISING KNEE! GO 2 SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"

[Freemantle laid a hand atop the fallen Dylan, as the ref slid in.]

Dr. John: "One."

Duk: "Two."

Dr. John: "Three."

ELIMINATED: JERICHO DYLAN AT 8:50

[Freemantle turned, and slapped Christian Light's hand, before moving onto the apron, grinning brightly back at team AWA. He hunched over the top rope, staring across the ring at anyone who would dare catch his gaze... As Christian Light paced, making sure he was limber, the three remaining members of team AWA conferred...]

[And Adrien stepped into the ring.]

Dr. John: "I hope Adrien knows what he's doing..."

[As it turned out, he did not. Light caught Adrien as soon as Adrien strayed too close, and hooked him with a tight-looking arm-twist. Cinching up on the knuckles, Light brought Adrien to his knees, before smashing an elbow into the shoulder joint, sending Adrien to the mat!]

Duk: "Adrien's down! Light may be about to make this four on two!"

[Christian hooked Adrien's arm, and bent it up tight, behind his back, a brutal hammerlock stretching out that abused joint! With a look of pure pain, Adrien was pressed flat to the mat, and twisted into the pretzel of pain so familiar to technical wrestling enthusiasts...]

Dr. John: "Can Adrien get out? Or is he going to tap?"

[Light let go, and as Adrien slowly came to a kneeling position... Light hooked an arm around the neck, getting a tight sleeper hold on! Light dragged Adrien across the mat, back to the Team WWA corner, before tagging in Adam Burke, The Tiger, once again!]

Duk: "Smart move by Team WWA's Light and Burke... Keeping tags hot, and no one man in for too long..."

Dr. John: "Yes, but as a biased viewer, I have to hope that Team AWA doesn't get swept."

[Burke came into the ring, and got himself into a fine position for kicking... Before firing off a brutal kick to Cochrane's chest! Adrien's breath whooshed out even faster, before Light let go and climbed out. Burke hammered another kick into the upper chest, before firing a knee to the side of Adrien's head, a flurry that left Cochrane on the mat, flat on his back.]

Dr. John: "Cochrane's in a bad position..."

[And as Burke stepped back, stalking Adrien, he threw a single finger skyward, some fans cheering as they picked up on his meaning... The fact that Adrien was about to get eliminated!]

Duk: "What's Burke's finisher?"

Dr. John: "A superkick."

Duk: "Oh, this is like the perfect position for Adrien to be in to get hit with that..."

[As Adrien finally came up to his knees, Burke kept stalking, waiting for Adrien to turn, and move into that boot...]

Dr. John: "I can't watch."

Duk: "I can."

[Adrien rose... And turned... And Burke shot forward, foot flying... And...]

[ADRIEN CAUGHT THE FOOT!]

Duk: "ADRIEN CAUGHT THE BOOT!"

[Adrien spun Burke around, and hammered a boot into Burke's stomach... As Burke doubled over, Adrien hooked the neck in the cravat... And leapt out, Burke cutter'd to the mat!]

Dr. John: "Is it safe?"

Duk: "ADRIEN CUTTER! ADRIEN CUTTER!"

[Adrien rolled Burke up, as Paige and Angel leapt into the ring, keeping Freemantle, Light and Hurley out... And the ref slid in to count it!]



















Dr. John: "ONE!"



















Duk: "TWO!"



















Dr. John: "THREE!"



















ELIMINATED: ADAM BURKE AT 12:05

[Adrien rolled away, and as Dark Angel and Paige went back to their corner, Adrien slapped Dark Angel on the back, before dropping to the mat and rolling out of the ring.]

[Dark Angel turned around, cracking his knuckles, and looking over the remaining three members of Team WWA. He grinned slightly, and pointed to Team WWA's most charismatic member... Dark Angel was calling out Christian Light!]

[Light glanced to the two to either side of him, shrugged, and climbed back into the ring.]

Dr. John: "We're going to see a match of Light versus Dark right here, right now!"

Duk: "You proud of that?"

Dr. John: "Very."

[As Light and Angel moved in, circling one another and eyeing one another carefully, one could tell that these two were some of the only guys to actually be taking this match as it was... A match.]

[For Paige, it was a decision.]

[For Freemantle, a chance to commit legal battery.]

[For Adrien, it was a shot at greatness.]

[For Hurley, it was an obstacle.]

[But Light and Angel? They were in this for the wrestling. Not for the title shot after, or even the battle royale.]

[It was wrestling. Hammerlock, armbar, Thesz press, headlock, punches, a suplex or three traded back and forth... A DDT, an Irish whip and a shoulder tackle, a sleeper hold to a rising opponent...]

[Angel hit a Russian leg sweep on Light, and sat up, panting softly. The wrestling Angel's mask slipped slightly, as he sat there, trying to catch his breath... He was distracted. Dangerously so. Something weighed on Angel's mind, and he looked down, panting softly.]

[Light sat up next to Angel, and looked to his opponent. Concern crinkled his brow, for the briefest of moments... As Angel looked up, and caught Light's eye, the two men had... A bit of a moment.]

[Then, Light kicked Angel in the face, and sent him snapping back to the mat. Light rose, and hooked Angel's ankles under his arms, then crossed those legs... Stepping over, Christian Light hooked on the Light Leg-Lock!]

Dr. John: "Christian Light's dangerous submission finisher! Many men have had their careers shortened with this hold!

Duk: "Angel doesn't look like he wants to give in!"

Dr. John: "He might not have a choice! Light's got the elevated Texas Cloverleaf on..."

Duk: "What's he doing with his knee?"

Dr. John: "He's got it in Angel's spine! Just between the shoulder blades!"

[Angel gritted his teeth, and pressed his face into the mat, fist pounding that canvas...]



















[And then, Angel, for the concern of his career, after a full three minutes in the hold, and concerned over his spine... Tapped out.]

ELIMINATED: THE DARK ANGEL, AT 18:40

[Light rose, and climbed out of the ring, slapping Evan Hurley's hand. As Dark Angel rolled out of the ring, hand pressed to his back, Adrien Cochrane looked to the one man who hasn't been in the ring yet.]

[And David Paige, Irish Fire, former World Champ, and the man who gave Blasier his current title reign, climbed into the ring.]

Dr. John: "Violent Evan Hurley versus Irish Fire, David Paige! Last matchup was a gifted wrestler versus a former World Champ... So's this one!"

[Paige and Hurley circled for the briefest of moments, before they locked up. Hurley slipped behind Paige, hooking the waistlock... Paige doubled back, behind Hurley! Hurley behind Paige, Paige behind Hurley! Paige eventually spun around completely, and hooked the head with a clinch...]

Duk: "PAIGE WITH THE KNEES!"

Dr. John: "Repeated, brutal knees to the face from "Irish Fire"! Hard to believe that Paige has spent months on the sidelines, because he hasn't lost a step!"

[Paige hammered Hurley, over and over, before Hurley straightened, throwing both arms to the sides and letting out a roar! Paige was caught in a clinch of Hurley's, the Violent one throwing a series of knees to the face, over and over!]

[Paige shoved Hurley off, and moved in, chopping a vicious knife-edged chop against Hurley's chest, over and over and over! Hurley was shoved back, into the ring corner, and Paige came running in, leaping, only to hammer a knee into Hurley's face!]

[Hurley shoved Paige off, and dove in, trying for a Spear, but Paige hooked the head, and reached behind himself, hooking his own arm and cinching tight... The legs came up, and Paige hooked on that guillotine choke! Hurley's legs thrashed, as Paige hooked on the choke part of the Final Paige!]

[Hurley somehow managed to get a foot to the ropes, so Paige let go... But as they rose, Paige hammered a foot into Hurley's stomach! Grabbing the arms, Paige twisted Hurley's arms, tossing him to the mat. Paige rolled Hurley, and hooked the legs around the neck, ending up on his back...]

Dr. John: "Straightjacket leg-choke! That's the Sol Naciente!"

Duk: "COMMONLY KNOWN AS THE CLOVER CLUTCH!"

[Hurley couldn't stand the fact that he was being choked again, so soon... Not that he lost his nerve, it's just the fact that he was passing out! So...Hurley thrashed a hand as best he could, nodding when the ref asked...]

ELIMINATED: EVAN HURLEY AT 20:01

[Hurley slid out, and Paige bounced back up, beckoning his opponents in, a hungry grin on his lips. Light looked over, putting a cautioning hand on Freemantle's chest... But London Freemantle jumped the top rope, heading for his opponent!]

[Paige went to lock up with Freemantle, but London wasn't looking for a grapple... He shoved his way through, and broke Paige's defense, head moving in...]

Duk: "FREEMANTLE IS BITING PAIGE!"

Dr. John: "HE'S GOT A BITE ON PAIGE'S CHEST!"

[Paige screamed in pain, as London Freemantle bore him down, to Paige's back, biting over and over! Paige's chest was a gruesome mess of blood and bite marks, before Freemantle leaned up, and bit a big old chunk right off Paige's shoulder!]

[Paige hammered an elbow into Freemantle's forehead, and shoved him off, before he hooked the arm, and quickly rolled up, trying for the Fujiware Armbar... But Freemantle just reached out with his other arm, clawing at Paige's eyes!]

[Paige clenched his eyes shut and pulled away, trying to keep his sight... And Freemantle began crawling, heading for the ropes, maybe just to choke Paige with them...]

Dr. John: "ADRIEN'S ON THE TOP ROPE!"

Duk: "ADRIEN, DON'T DO IT!"

[As Paige rolled off of Freemantle, Adrien leapt off, throwing caution to the wind! Flipping in midair, Adrien came down with his shoulders across Freemantle's back, in a huge Swanton Bomb! Freemantle arched his back, face a mask of rage, as Paige slipped from the ring, cupping his eyes.]

Duk: "Ooooh no..."

Dr. John: "I think that makes Adrien the legal man... And he's in there with London Freemantle, blood still on Freemantle's teeth!"

[Adrien rose, eyes wide, as Freemantle came to his feet, a monster of destruction... Turning to bail, Adrien locked eyes with Christian Light, a man Adrien had looked up to... Who just shook his head.]

[Adrien swallowed, and turned back to Freemantle... The two moved, as if to lock up... Adrien ducked, and went behind Freemantle, heading for the ropes! Leaping onto the middle rope, Adrien springboarded off, coming back and throwing an elbow! Freemantle caught it full in the chest, staggering backward!]

[Adrien came back up, and hammered a boot into the stomach, then hammered a knee into the temple. Turning, Adrien hit the ropes and came back, before kicking Freemantle in the side of the head! London dropped to his knees, and Adrien turned, eyes wide as dinner plates, hitting the ropes! Coming back, Adrien dropkicked London in the back of the head, sending him down, and sprang back to his feet.]

[Adrien turned, and ran up the nearest turnbuckle, before crouching on the top rope... And Adrien flipped off, spinning as he came down, landing on Freemantle's back! Cochrane sprang back up, and turned back, drawing a thumb across his throat...]

[And London Freemantle... He slowly rose back to his feet, giving that heinous grin.]

...bonedaggers...

[Adrien's eyes widened, as Freemantle grabbed a hold of Adrien's t-shirt (Christopher Barton "I Will Bear You!" Available now for order from the OLW website!)... Adrien smashed a fist down, breaking Freemantle's grasp, and ducked under the thrown punch, hitting the ropes! As Adrien came back, Freemantle snatched his arms out, lifting Adrien into the air, and flipping Adrien over...

[And Freemantle stepped over Adrien's arms, hooking them with his legs, waist locked the Original Pranksta...]

[And Freemantle dropped to his knees, Adrien's legs going one way, Adrien's head going the other, a BRUTAL Papercut! Paige went to come back in, only for Light to break it up... The look of horror and sorrow on Paige's face told it all...]

[He hadn't wanted this... Not at all.]

Duk: "Adrien's down! He's gotta be down!"

Dr. John: "I worry for the state of his neck..."

[Freemantle hooked the leg, and laid Adrien down gently.]



















Duk: "ONE!"



















Dr. John: "TWO!"



















Duk: "Three."



















ELIMINATED: ADRIEN COCHRANE AT 25:04

[Freemantle grinned toothily, and shoved Adrien's limp body out of the ring with a foot, only for Adrien to thud to ringside. Light and Paige both winced, Paige moving to Adrien's side, Light walking down the ring apron to look at the fallen wrestler's body...]

[Paige gritted his teeth, as a ref came down to check on Adrien. Once Adrien began showing a sign or three of life... Paige rose to his feet, and looked up at London Freemantle. London grinned, and sat on the ring ropes, lifting the top rope, giving Paige a hole to climb back into the ring through...]

Dr. John: "What arrogance..."

Duk: "I wouldn't want to say that to London's face..."

[Paige moved to the steel ring steps... And climbed back into the ring. Freemantle grinned, that sardonic, enigmatic grin...]

...bonedaggers...

[And Paige charged across the ring, bashing a brutal fist into Freemantle's jaw! An elbow to the mouth, and Paige hooked his arms around Freemantle's head, before dropping to his knees, smashing Freemantle's jaw on Paige's skull!]

Duk: "JAWBREAKER!"

Dr. John: "Paige's bringing the fight right back to Freemantle!"

[Paige hammered a boot into the stomach, then spun around, and cracked a brutal roundhouse kick into Freemantle's jaw! Then another kick! With Freemantle staggering, and dropping to a knee, Paige dashed forward, and hammered a Shining Wizard knee into Freemantle's jaw!]

Dr. John: "Blind tag! Freemantle dropped into the WWA corner, and Light's got the tag!"

Duk: "Was it to save Freemantle... Or to save Paige?"

[Light moved in, but Paige wasn't here to lose! As Light came dashing into the ring, Paige launched across the ring, hammering a fist or three into Light's face!]

[Light was whipped off, across the ring, and Paige went dashing across the ring! Champion met champion, as Paige hammered a shoulder into Light's chest, then the brutal roundhouse kick to the knee... With Light crouched, Paige hooked a chickenwing and a headlock, before popping the hips, sending Light overhead with a single underhook suplex!]

Dr. John: "Paige's got the fire in him!"

[As London Freemantle came rushing across the ring, Paige snatched out his legs, hooking Freemantle and tripping him up, sending London down, face first, into Light's stomach! Paige dropkicked Freemantle out of the ring, before he pulled Light back up, hooking an arm and the head as he did.]

Duk: "Light's being set up on the ring corner..."

Dr. John: "I think Light's about to take a trip off the top rope!"

[Paige hoisted Light up, setting him up facing away from the ring... But, as Light and Paige went off the top, Paige trying for a belly to back superplex... Light rolled over, and fell on top of Paige, with a cross body block!]

[Light came back up, hammering Paige in the stomach with a series of stomps, before yanking Paige back up... Hooking the head, Light lifted Paige to a completely vertical position... Then up to a vertical suplex! Paige was held upward, for a moment... Before Paige was dropped, Light ending up on his back... A brutal Brainbuster!]

Dr. John: "LIGHT'S GOT A PIN! WILL PAIGE SURVIVE?!"

Duk: "EVEN IF HE DOES, HE'S STILL GOT FREEMANTLE TO DEAL WITH!"



















"ONE!"



















"TWO!"



















"NO!"

[Paige kicked out at a split-second before the three count, rolling to his stomach! Light drew a thumb across his throat, signaling for Realizing the Dream... Paige was pulled back up, and Light hooked a hand across the throat, hooking the waistband of Paige's tights...]

Dr. John: "LIGHT'S GOT THE GORILLA PRESS!"

Duk: "AND THE DDT! IMPLANT DDT!"

Dr. John: "LIGHT WITH REALIZING THE DREAM!"

[Paige was hooked by Light, trying for another pin...]



















"ONE!"



















"TWO!"



















"NO!"

[Paige kicked out AGAIN! As Light sat up, eyes wide with surprise, Paige rolled to his stomach, hands pressed to his head. The Last Nighthawk grabbed a hold of Paige's head, and hooked a headlock, bringing Paige back up to his knees...]

[Paige hooked the leg and Light's neck, popping the hips! As Light's eyes opened wide in surprise, Paige dropped Light on his head with the T-Bone Suplex! Light hit the mat with a thud, but Paige wasn't done... Hooking a cravat, Paige yanked Light back up, and slipped behind...]

[Hooking the arms into a pair of chicken-wings, Paige hoisted Light up, and over! With a huge, ring-shaking crash, Light slammed into the mat, with a huge Tiger Suplex! Light's shoulders stayed down, as Paige rolled backwards, throwing his body weight atop Christian Light...]

Duk: "A PINNING PREDICAMENT!"

Dr. John: "Look! Freemantle's crouched at ringside, watching! He's got bad intentions, if Paige pins Light..."

Duk: "But he won't save Light? What IS this?!"



















"ONE!"



















"TWO"



















"THREE!"



















ELIMINATED: CHRISTIAN LIGHT AT 30:30

[And as soon as the bell rang, Freemantle dove in, and tackled Paige to the mat, hammering fists and elbows and forearms to the face! Over and over, Paige got his head rocked, before Freemantle began to viciously head-butt Paige in the face!]

[Paige's forehead was busted, nose bleeding profusely, eyes squeezed shut...]

[And Freemantle began scrabbling at Paige's face with his fingernails! Biting his forehead, hammering forearms into Paige's temple, and then throwing his legs up, to be perpendicular, across Paige, and start throwing knees to Paige's temple and the side of his head!]

[Paige was shoved away, before Freemantle grinned, fangs stained with blood!]

[And as Paige sat up, one of his eyes was a bright red! It seemed a vein had burst in his eye, his forehead blooded, his chest a gory mess...]

Dr. John: "PAIGE WON'T GIVE IN!"

Duk: "He's got that fighting Irish spirit!"

[As Freemantle charged, Paige did too! The big cowboy, the Hellbilly, the Monster Machine, hooked his fists around Paige's shoulders, fingers digging into the trapezius muscles! Paige's face broke in pain, as Freemantle forced Paige to his knees... Only to fire a knee into Paige's face, Paige's head snapping back! Another knee, and another, and another, and Paige finally, finally collapsed, dropping to the mat in a heap.]

Dr. John: "Oh... Oh no."

Duk: "I think Freemantle got 'im..."

[Freemantle put a foot atop Paige's chest, and lifted his arms skyward, grinning brightly...]



















"ONE!"



















"TWO!"



















"NO!"

[Paige managed, somehow, to throw a shoulder up! Freemantle snarled, and grabbed a fistful of Paige's hair, yanking him ALL the way back up to his feet! Freemantle hammered a knee into Paige's stomach, and stuffed the head... Hooking the waist, Freemantle flipped Paige up, and turned, throwing Paige headfirst into the top turnbuckle, as Paige came down from the powerbomb throw!]

[Paige collapsed to the mat, blessedly, mercifully still, and Freemantle hooked the leg for the pin this time, after pulling Paige away from the ropes...]



















"ONE!"



















"TWO!"



















"THREE!"



















ELIMINATED: DAVID PAIGE AT 36:01

WINNER: LONDON FREEMANTLE BY FEAR EFFECT

The Joys of Free Food
Christopher Barton

[Backstage, Louisiana Superdome.]

[OLW's Christopher Barton is on a mission.]

[A mission to find free food.]

[The camera follows Barton, who is walking down one of the many hallways connecting the different back-stage areas of the Superdome.]

[As he rounds the corner, he sees the WCWA's very own Jane.]

[Jane offers Barton a curt nod as she walks toward him. With the brief eye contact made, she directs her stare downward, apparently not wanting to be disturbed.]

Barton: Hey, hey, hold on just one second there!

Jane: Yes?

Barton: Do you know where a guy can get a sammich 'round here?

[She regards him quizzically for a moment.]

Jane: Do you have a match?

Barton: Heh, not tonight, sweetie. I'm just here because I heard the catering was going to be out of this world.

[Barton coughs.]

Barton: For serious, I hear they have a wrestling ring sculpture made from bacon.

[The Team WCWA member gags.]

Jane: A sculpture? Made out of bacon? That's disgusting! You can't be serious.

Barton: What do you have against Bacon? Are you some sort of.. terrorist?

[Barton eyes Jane suspiciously.]

[Jane looks at him as if Barton has lost his mind.]

Jane: No, not a terrorist. Hey, are you feeling... fine?

Barton: Well, aside from being starving.. do you know where the bacon sculpture is, or what?

[She shakes her head.]

Jane: I sincerely believe you've been misled.

Barton: Bah, no freakin' way! Alright, I'm gonna go find my bacon. Oh, and, good luck later. You're gonna need it, I'm afraid.

[Barton continues down the hallway, singularly focused on his goal of a bacon wrestling ring. Behind him, Jane is trying her best not to laugh.]

Barton: [shouting over his shoulder.] OH! WHEN I FIND THE FOOD, I'LL SAVE YOU SOME BACON!

[He hears no reply.]

Barton: [muttering] women.. what is their friggin' deal?

[He finally gets to an intersection, and, after a quick eeny-meeny-miney-mo, a disheveled, confused Adrien Cochrane is walking towards the locker room area, back to Barton and the camera.]

Barton: Hey kid, do your parents know you're wandering around back here by yourself?

[ Cochrane wheels around and looks at Barton, dazed.]

Barton: Oh, it's just you Adrien. Hey, um, not a bad showing out there. You did alright.

Cochrane: Yeah. I guess. Like the city?

Barton: You know, even with all the Katrina bullshit, its less depressing than Rochester.

Cochrane: It's been getting a lot better. Sucks you're not getting in the ring tonight. You showed me some talent at the NWA Wrestle Classic.

Barton: Heh, thanks. You didn't do so bad yourself. I'm actually kinda glad I got the night off.. means I'll be in better shape for my title shot against your buddy.

Cochrane: Ah, against Python, eh? That should be an interesting match. Where can I get me a Gatorade?

Barton: It's gonna be one for the ages. A Gatorade? Why, I was just looking for some free food and beverage myself, follow me!

Cochrane: Ok..

[ With that, Barton, Cochrane in tow, marches off in search of the catering area. They reach an intersection in the hallways. Barton notices a security guard. ]

Barton: Hey kid, watch this!

[Barton bounds over to the security guard and tosses him up against the wall of the hallway.]

Barton: [In a fake gruff voice] TELL ME WHERE IT IS!

Guard: [visibly shaking in fright] w-w-what are you t-t-t-talking about?

Barton: [Still gruff.] IT! YOU KNOW, IT! THE PLACE I CAN GET MY NOURISHMENT FOR MY.. UM.. SOUL!

Guard: [still shaking] y-y-y-you m-m-m-mean the c-c-c-catering area?

Barton: [Gruff] YES, YOU FOOOOOL! TELL ME BEFORE I HAVE TO KILL YOU!

Guard: [shaking] y-y-y-y-you want to go d-d-d-down this way, and make a l-l-l-l-left.

Barton: NO ONE STANDS IN LONDON FREEMANTLE'S WAY!

[quietly] ... bone.. daggers? ...

[Barton throws the guard down and proceeds, with Cochrane still in tow, in the direction the guard indicated. After the two wrestlers make the turn into the catering area, the security guard grabs the walkie-talkie on his waistband]

Guard: w-w-w-w-watch o-o-o-out for some L-L-L-L-London Fr-Fr-Fr-Freemantle.. he is hungry and pissed off.

[Our intrepid heroes stand in one of the larger auxiliary rooms of the Louisiana Superdome. The room is literally filled with a catering spread the likes of which haven't been seen in quite some time. Ribs, lobster, tacos.. you name it. Cochrane turns to Barton.]

Cochrane: You didn't have to do that to that security guard.

Barton: Yeah, but it was funny as hell.

Cochrane: Eh, I've seen funnier.

Barton: [he sighs] Hey, I got you to the promised land, didn't I?

Cochrane: Very true.

Barton: Now go get your Gatorade while I get my eat on.

[Cochrane grabs a bottle of Gatorade. He looks at Barton with the bottle raised.]

Cochrane: Cheers.

[Barton nods.]

[Cochrane grabs a hamburger.]

Cochrane: You know, I know the chef who made this. Try it.

Barton: Now you're talking.

[Barton grabs the hamburger hungrily from Cochrane.]

Cochrane: He gave it a Cajun-y taste to it.

[Barton nods as he takes a big bite of the burger.]

[Adrien has a big smirk on his face.]

Cochrane: Remember when I said I've seen funnier?

Barton: [mouth full] yeff I do.

[Adrien laughs.]

Cochrane: I'm sure you can put two and two together.

[Barton stops chewing and glares at Cochrane.]

Barton: What did you do to my burger?

[Adrien laughs again.]

Cochrane: The best part of a prank is to sometimes make people you did something when you really didn't. Enjoy your burger.

[Barton eyes the burger suspiciously. He opens the bun, spits his half chewed bite back onto the burger, takes the open-face spit-burger, grabs Cochrane's free hand, and places the burger, spit side down, into his hand.]

Barton: Well, then... my compliments to the chef, asshole.

[Cochrane wipes his hand on his jeans.]

Cochrane: [Sarcastically] Haaaa haaaa verrrr-y funnn-y.

[Barton smirks as Cochrane walks out of the room, shaking his head.]

[Barton grabs a plate and hauls through the line, getting his first helping ready: corn, fried chicken, lobster tails, some brisket, some chicken French and some mashed potatoes. He turns from the line, looking for an empty spot at one of the tables. Several members of the production crew and the WWA sit eating quietly at one of the tables. At another table, the SAP entourage is sitting with Team Danger, discussing something enthusiastically. At the far end, he notices his free food buddy, Jeff Andrews sitting by himself. Barton walks over and sits down across the table from him.]

Barton: Hey man, how's the quality of the grub this time around, better than Cascadia?

Andrews: When I have barbecue, I expect it to be spicy. This is fucking sweet. Not sweet as in awesome, sweet as in a taste sensation that doesn't belong within 500 miles of barbecue. I hereby call bullshit.

[pause.]

Andrews: BULL! SHIT!!!

[pause]

Andrews: Sup?

Barton: uhm, erm.. nothing. I agree with you about BBQ sauce by the way, with one exception: Stick Lips BBQ's Cherry Bomb sauce. It's infused with the taste of real cherries. Delicious on some brisket.

Andrews: Duly noted. Still. Bull,shit.

Barton: Well, agree to disagree. [whispering.] Hey man, do you have a flask on you? I thought there was going to be booze.

Andrews: Finished it an hour ago. Sorry holmes.

Barton: Agh, dammit. Oh well. So, uh, sucks about the whole bailing at Summer Games thing.

Andrews: Yeah. See, the thing about that... I got thrown off. Because I was drunk. Because the amount of damns I give about anything are equal to zero.

Barton: Ohhhh, that's riiiiight. My bad. Well, in either case, at least you were on a team...Look, when OLW comes back from its hiatus, I've got some shit I want to work out with you dude..

[Barton glances over at the camera, remembering he's being followed.]

Barton: Alright, enough of you dude, this is some Top Secret bullshit.

[The camera man, not wishing to suffer the wrath of either man, obligingly turns the camera off.]

Getting What's Mine
Catalyst

[A black banner is before us with three letters, a G, an E, and a C. The banner symbolizes the hand chosen federation of the Gladiators of the Eternal City, a Victor Mandrake side project in Rome. Standing in front of the banner is of course the most vocal member of Team GEC, Catalyst. He wears his wrestling attire as one of the most talked about match ups of the year is mere minutes away. He adjusts his wrist tape a little pit, playing with, a nervous habit that he picked up in the Indy federations.]

"Soon I will step into the ring with HRW and this will all be settled. There will be no more fire bombs, there will be no more showing up at each other's shows, there will be no more cheating people out of titles. There will just be a body count, a victor and a loser."

[Gone is the attitude and ego that we have seen so much of in light of his upheaval of Curtis Penn some months ago from the position of Colosseum Champion. That swagger has since disappeared at the hands of Johnny Olympus, who this week was nowhere to be found. On the grandest stage of them all…isn't it a shame.]

"This match will test all the men involved, as this event tends to do. It will pull at the heart strings, the fabric of beings that exist on various teams. People will throw up seconds before going to the ring, people will piss themselves with anxiety…people will ultimately have to perform under intense pressure, in the biggest event, in the most grandest of places."

"These people are the people that have been performing for years. The cockroaches that never die, the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, the comeback kids of the summer. They are the storylines that every summer you cling to and every fall you wish would return. They are the horses you back, Victor Mandrake is the all seeing, all knowing jockey. These are the people that succeed at an event like this…"

[His eyes gently lower.]

"…not people like me."

"There are no people in the ring who indirectly killed a tag team partner and best friend, who watched one of their best friends get raped, who hear voices that drive them up a wall."

[He pauses regretting that he might have said too much and looks around the backstage area he is in, as if he is looking for someone…or something.]

"I am not built for this kind of thing. I was thrust into the fire of this match without able hands to compete with, I was placed into this match in a handicap. Now, there is no way to escape it, there is no way to win."

"So I will do my best to live up to my end of the bargain, to bear the cross of the GEC as we attempt to dismantle Team HRW. In the end I expect to see Justin Brooks and myself going toe to toe, testing our young friendship, I hope to see the proper men or man advance in this match up. This is what Mandrake gets for allowing Johnny Olympus to run his team…this is what he gets."

[Catalyst begins to walk away.]

"Olympus now…is nothing more than a shadow. Give me back my title Victor, it's the least you can do."

[Disappearing into the go area to prepare for his entrance goes Catalyst.]

Match III
Team HRW
Justin Brooks (Captain), Jimmy Riley, Edward White, Benjamin Haynes

vs.

Team GEC
Johnny Olympus (Captain), Rayne, Catalyst, Maharba

Order Elimination:
1. Maharba
2. Olympus
3. White
4. Haynes
5. Mandrake (Brooks gets the pin after having take down assistance from Riley)
6. Riley
7. Catalyst
8. Rayne

Brooks advances to the final.

Notes: Olympus simply leaves the match in the middle. This pisses off Mandrake, who storms in while Olympus is leaving, levels him, then steps in as a replacement member for Team GEC.

Advice
Dan Easton

[A locker room somewhere in the back, Dan Easton sits on a metal folding chair, a frustrate look plastered across his face.]

[He reaches down and pick up his cell phone, flips it open and starts pressing some buttons.]

[Bringing the phone to his ear, he waits.]

Dan: "Where the hell is he?"

[Pulling the phone away from his ear he flips it closed and tosses it in his duffle bag on the floor in front of him.]

Dan: "Screw Wallace, if he doesn't show up, I'll freaking kill him the next time I see him."

[A knock at the door; followed by the entrance of Curtis Penn.]

Curtis: "I was wondering if I could ask some advice."

Dan: "Curtis, you have a ton of gold around your waist right now, surely there is little I can give you in advice that you haven't already figured out along the way."

Curtis: "No seriously, I need some advice from you."

Dan: "Okay what is it?"

Curtis: "How do you deal with losing so many matches?"

[Curtis cracks a nearly Easton-ish cocky grin, and then speaks once more.]

Curtis: "Seriously?"

[Dan cracks a smile and laughs under his breath slightly, realizing he just got his chain yanked by his son for the first time.]

Dan: "There was a time when I would have tossed your ass back out that door you just came through."

Curtis: "What you're too old to do it now?"

[Shaking his head Dan laughs once more, this time a little more outwards.]

Sunset's Best
The Sex Symbols

[Backstage]

[The NWA World Tag Team Champions]

[The Sex Symbols]

[Crystal Gayle barges into the locker room as she couldn't get anyone to answer the door, her non-caring attitude on whether the wrestlers are dressed or not gives her a few extra perks and a few good laughs with the AWA roster members at times.]

[She finds JD Hart alone and dressed sitting on a cold green metal folding chair. He seems to be fidgeting with his iPod Touch. She can only assume he's listening to something since he's got both of the ear bobs in his ears. It's only her thoughts; she's been wrong before so it happens.]

Crystal: "JD!"

[Nothing]

[She gets no response what so ever. How load could that thing be for him not to hear her talking to him? He must be part deaf is all she could think.]

Crystal: "JD!"

[She tries once more expecting the same lack of communication as before.]

Crystal: "All I wanted was a brief interview with the NWA world tag team champions and I get nothing, not even a 'Hi Crystal, you look nice today', no I get no response at all. I swear men can be such jerks sometimes."

[The tracks on JD's iPod switch and he hears a female voice rambling, his first thought was Kristi had followed him to the back, but he knew that wasn't possible since she didn't have a backstage pass. Then he thought maybe Sean brought in some fan or groupie if you will, but not before the match, maybe afterwards. He looked around the room and saw Crystal pulling on the door to leave.]

JD: "Umm, uh, hey, what are you doing in here?"

[She turns around slowly with a smile on her face and the microphone held high by her mouth.]

Crystal: "It's about time you acknowledged me."

[JD's puzzled, as he doesn't know what she's talking about.]

Crystal: "I came to get a few words from the WWA mainstays and now NWA world tag team champions do you have time?"

[He looks at the clock on the wall and nods his head yes.]

JD: "Sure I can spare a minute, but were on after this Team WCWA verses Team Cascadia match."

Crystal: "You have a brief history with CHIMERA FT, Pete Whealdon and Parker Smith over different sets of tag team titles, the WCWA and the WMW. So where does Curtis Penn fall into the mix?"

[He wipes off his mouth and sports a semi-serious smile. He pulls out an ear bud.]

JD: "Curtis is guilty by association now. The only reason I have any animosity towards him is due to the fact he's friends and tag team partners with Pete and Parker. That was almost Spider-Many, wasn't it?"

[Crystal smiles at JD to be nice since she isn't a nerd like that. She doesn't like comic books; she's more into hair, clothes and hunky men, unlike Tobey MaGuire, James Franco and Topher Grace.]

Crystal: "Uh, yeah, I guess so. So your only dislike for Penn is due to him being friends with Pete and Parker that seems kind of shallow."

[He scrunches up his face as he's unsure what she means.]

JD: "I don't hate Curtis; I think he's a great talent for the WCWA, GEC and the WWA as a whole. I had a long standing feud with Parker and Jon Smith in White Mountain Wrestling and while we're now actually on speaking terms only when we pass we'll say 'hey' or 'hi' at times, in the back of my mind there are still questions about him. Pete Whealdon's the same way, he and Alexander Shaw were the WCWA tag team champions and we faced off a few times. When you have a feud that's been ongoing for awhile it's hard not to dislike anyone that happens to team with them."

[Crystal shrugs her shoulders and smirks as if he were coping out.]

Crystal: "We'll it still seems shallow to me."

[She kept on raising the dander of JD, he's trying to get ready for his match mentally more than physically and she tries to cause a discrepancy.]

JD: "It's simple really, it's just like when you date a guy and break up, then he dates another lady and you hate her for dating him, simple."

[She frowns when she sees his point and how idiotic she was being.]

Crystal: "Okay, I understand it now."

[She rolls her eyes at him.]

Crystal: "So where's Sean?"

[JD shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.]

JD: "I don't know unless he's in the bathroom getting ready, primping or just out goofing off,"

[She smiles and heads towards the bathroom with a giant grin on her face. She rounds the corner and enters the bathroom.]

Crystal: "OH MY GOD! THAT'S…THAT'S…THAT'S…DISGUSTING!"

[JD can't he has to know what's going on, the sprints over and peaks in the bathroom to see what's up.]

Sean: "Listen baby either help me with this boa or get out!"

[JD see's Sean standing on the toilet naked trying to pull his black and pink feather boa out of the toilet. Amazed and yet shocked JD starts laughing.]

JD: "What are you doing bro?"

[JD chuckles as he tries to keep his composer.]

Sean: "I was dropping the Browns off to the Super Bowl and I flushed this stupid toilet and it sucked up my boa and damn near choked me to death at the same time. Now, I'm trying to get my boa out of the toilet so it doesn't get clogged up and over flow."

[JD and Crystal both burst out laughing.]

Crystal: "This is even funnier than walking in on Corey Ashton naked a few weeks ago and had a lot of shrinkage."

[Crystal walks out leaving JD laughing at Sean, so they can attempt to get ready for their match.]

Why We Do This
Johnny Lightning/Dusty Griffith

[Backstage. Louisiana Superdome.]

[Johnny Lightning sits in the far corner of the team Cascadia locker room with his entourage of SAP helpers, Sammy and Christopher Barton. Lightning sits, wearing a brand new pair of tights, black with golden lightning bolts cascading down each leg. Two of the SAP crew are hard at work, lacing up his shiny black boots and taping his hands, respectively. Sammy sits chatting quietly with Christopher Barton off to the side, filling each other in on what's been going on the last few months since the whole gang was together in Rochester.]

[Johnny looks up, hearing a noise on the other side of the locker room. He raises an eyebrow, quizzically.]

JL: [To his crew] Hey, guys, I'm good for right now, why don't you all go get yourself some food and make yourselves busy, I have something I need to do before showtime.

[The SAP crew quickly obliges, finishing their tasks, gathering their things and heading for the door. Christopher stands up as well, but Sammy.. well, she doth protest.]

Sammy: Are you sure Johnny? I'm--

JL: Yah, I'm sure darlin'. Everything will be just fine. I'll come find you guys after we take care of business with those WCWA folks.

Sammy: Sure thing, darling.

[She gets up, gives him a kiss goodbye, and she and Christopher Barton exit.]

[The reason for their departure?]

[The massive frame of the Boise Bronco approaches.]

[Already geared up. His wrists are taped, shoes laced, and a soft, yet hardening expression adorns his face.]

[Dusty Griffith steps aside, and with a polite nod to Barton and Sammy, he waits for them to vacate before finalizing his approach.]

[Once gone, Griffith strides over, looking down upon the hunched over form of Johnny Lightning.]

DG: "That seat taken?"

[He asks, politely as always.]

[Lightning locks eyes with Griffith and shakes his head.]

[Dusty sets himself down and leans back against the chair, his legs stretching outward before recoiling back into a bent position.]

DG: "Nervous?"

JL: "Truth be told, a little bit."

DG: "Same."

JL: "It's nice to know, I suppose, that I'm not the only one.. that even you, somebody that doesn't have a damn thing to be worried about.. is going through the nervousness I am."

DG: "But, the question is, do you know why we feel this way?"

[Johnny gives off a momentary glance, asking "why?"]

DG: "Because this feeling, right here, on a night like this, is what we live for."

JL: "What do you mean?"

[Dusty leans back again, grunting out a cough.]

DG: "You know what a lot of old timers would say about a night like this?"

[Johnny shrugs.]

DG: "They'd all say when that nervous feeling left them before they hit the ring, that it was for them time to get out of the game."

[Snort, thumbs his nose.]

DG: "I never really considered what any of that meant until tonight. All this tension, it means the excitement of going out in front of tens of thousands of folks, is still the best high you'll ever experience. And when that's gone? There just isn't any more reason to keep doing it."

JL: "It sounds like what you're saying is that what this is.. what this feeling actually is.. is love. Sure, it's not the same as loving another person, but we feel this way because we love this sport, don't we?"

DG: "Exactly, right."

JL: "Have you ever been in love, Dusty?"

DG: "Oh, once or twice, but that's a story for another day."

[Johnny Lightning simply nods.]

JL: So, champ, it looks like we've got our work cut out for us tonight.

DG: "That's one way to look at it... But, I prefer to look at it as everyone else having their work cut out for them, having to try and knock us off."

JL: "When was the last time a group of good-for-nothin' outsiders came in and ate everyone's lunch at Summer Games?"

DG: "Right around never, as far as I know. And that makes it all the more fun, fightin' to be the first ones to pull it off."

JL: "Well then, it looks like it's about time for us to make some history."

[Dusty nods, and stands up.]

[Rising with him, Johnny Lightning extends an arm to Dusty.]

[Dusty shakes Johnny Lightning's hand.]

JL: I'll see ya out there in a few.

[Dusty nods once more, and walks off.]

She's Back!
Jane

[Cynthia Smith, a reporter with the West Coast Wrestling Association stands grinning before the camera. Her pretty face, quite familiar to the WCWA fans, is sure to ensnare the attentions of those unfamiliar with the World Wrestling Alliance's franchise in California.]

Cynthia Smith: Hello New Orleans! I'm here with a very pleasant surprise for our Summer Games fans.

[The camera pulls out a little to reveal someone standing just to the left of Cynthia. That someone- apparently the very pleasant surprise that the WCWA reporter had mentioned- is Jane. Clad in a track suit and wearing her brown hair in a tight ponytail, Jane Katze looks thrilled to be in the arena in New Orleans at last. There's a bit of nervousness about her- fidgeting and the like- but the excitement and determination in her look to outweigh the apprehension.]

CS: How are you feeling, Jane? Excited to be at Summer Games?

Jane Katze (absolutely beaming): Definitely! It's really good to be here. I've been getting some bad vibes, though.

CS: How do you mean?

[Jane casts a few glances back and forth between the camera and Cynthia, trying to decide if she should sound off on some of her qualms. She decides to let off a little steam rather than err on the side of caution.]

JK: Well, there's been a lot of chauvinism surrounding this event. The advertising, for example, stated, 'May the best man win'. The best man? Oh, there's no glass ceiling in this industry. Not at all.

CS (nodding): So I imagine you're not too thrilled about the remarks recently made by Johnny Lightning.

[Jane's eyes widen at the mention of the name and she instinctively clenches her fists.]

JK: Lightning? Oh, I can't wait to get into the ring with him! I'm going to smack that little bitch around so bad! If Lightning needs someone to cook and clean for him, then he should hire a maid. If he's having trouble coming up with the money, he should try getting a contract with a real wrestling promotion- not this Wrestle Coast Cascadia crap. That being said, I thought they taught cooking in Special Needs classes. Don't tell me the man's forgot his high school education already!

CS (rolling her eyes): That's kind of a tacky insult…

JK (shrugging): It was, but I'm not really in a smack talking mood. I just want to get into the action and show the Louisiana fans how we have fun in California.

CS: Well, going back to what you mentioned about chauvinism- how do you feel about Noah Hanson? He mentioned about two weeks ago that, if you were injured, he would hold Mike Sloan accountable.

JK: I think his concern for me is… cute. It's very cute. Totally unnecessary, mind you, but cute.

CS: Did, you know, your gender come up in training with the rest of Team WCWA?

[Jane arches an eyebrow at the question and hesitates, unsure what's being asked of her.]

CS: Let me put that a different way. Were there any tensions between yourself and the rest of the team given that you're the only woman participating in this whole event?

JK (smirking): You're still kind of beating around the bush…

CS (a little sheepishly): Sorry.

JK: Don't be. It's a valid question. Calib, Dan and Noah have all been very supportive in the lead-up to Summer Games. Calib was a bit distant, as if he had a lot on his mind aside from this competition. But I have every confidence that he will deliver in the ring.

[Jane runs a hand along her chin, gauging whether or not to add something that she's been dwelling on for the past week. Cynthia catches it.]

CS: Anything else you'd like to add, Jane?

JK: Well… I'm not sure. It's… I get the impression from the Team that they're not putting their all into this. Maybe I'm just feeling the last-minute paranoia coming on, but I feel as if the guys don't want to pull out ahead of Team Cascadia. Mike, as you know, made a deal with Wrestle Coast Cascadia: should we lose against them here the federation will pack up and move elsewhere. Perhaps everyone's tired of the California sun? Perhaps some folks are in sore need of a road trip? I'm honestly not sure. But I like Los Angeles. I'll be giving it my all tonight. That's not to say I feel a little bit of wanderlust coming on, though…

CS: Do you have a trip planned?

JK (smiling mischievously): Oh, I have a few things planned for my world after I win Summer Games.

CS: Like…?

JK: That would be telling.

CS: Hmm… well, in that case, any last remarks?

JK: Next time, I get to pick the secret codenames for Team WWA. Seriously, rivers? I mean, Johnny and his life skills deficiencies could come up with better names. Mr. Clean, Tide, Cascade…

CS (grimacing): You have a terrible sense of humor!

JK (cracking up): Hey, there's a spot on the list for you. I'm sure Johnny will need some sort of cheerleader. You could be, like, Swiffer. Just like the Swiffer picks up dust and grime, you pick up the team's spirits.

[Cynthia feigns offence.]

JK (winks): Just a joke between friends.

[With that, the two share a friendly hug before Jane walks off-camera to prepare for her match.]

CS: That was Jane Katze, rising star of the WCWA. Injured in her recent match with Frank Dylan James, there was a lot of controversy as to when she would be able to return to the ring. That controversy has been put to rest. Jane is back.

[Cut.]

Match IV
Team Cascadia
Dusty Griffith (Captain), Johnny Lightning, Aaron Vasquez

vs.

Team WCWA
Dan Easton (Captain), Jane, Noah Hanson, Calib Wallace

[Wrestle Coast: Cascadia's team was the first to make their entrance. Dusty Griffith and Johnny Lightning walked out together. Griffith, of course, is known for having run roughshod over the entire Alliance, winning title after title. Johnny Lightning is a relative newcomer, but he already drew some blood for his team, earning the winning pinfall in WC:C's "Summer Games Preview", pitting himself and Jeff Andrews against Adrien Cochrane and David Paige. Andrews, of course, withdrew from Summer Games almost immediately after the lineup was announced.]

[Aaron Vasquez was not being much of a team player. He entered last, the most notable thing about him a copper chain around his neck that used to be one third of the OLW Trios Tag Titles. His "soldiers", Papes and Lukey, accompanied him to the ring, Lukey acting as a hype machine, Papes taking a corner man role, draping a towel over Vasquez's head.]

[With the three men in the ring, the reaction was mixed at best. Griffith, despite being a general good guy, was an outsider. Lightning was beginning to work on redeeming his bad attitude, but wasn't really there yet. Chico was just despised.]

[Then, out came team West Coast Wrestling Association. Dan Easton lead the way, his trademark Oakley sunglasses absent. Following him next was Jane Katze, who blew a kiss to the fans as she followed Easton. Up next was Calib Wallace. Bringing up the rear was Noah Hanson, who pointed into the ring at Dusty Griffith.]

[On a signal from Easton, Team WCWA charged!]

[Hanson was first into the ring and he went straight for Griffith, trying to brawl, but Griffith's potato like punches dropped Hanson to the mat. Jane went after Lightning, ducking a clothesline and delivering a series of kicks to the legs before Lightning caught a leg and dragon screw leg whipped her to the mat. As he tried to follow up, Jane monkey flipped him. Hanging onto the arms she rolled onto his chest and tried for one of her scissor holds, Lightning wasn't going to take it and stood up, bringing her with him – Jane countered by frankensteinering him over the ropes. Easton went for Vasquez. Wallace, too, tried to go for Vasquez, but he wasn't quick enough – Papes and Lukey each grabbed an ankle!]

[As the fight broke down, Papes and Lukey were completely unnoticed as they began decimating Wallace on the outside, with Papes holding his arms behind his back and Lukey just unleashing vicious punches to the face before kicking him in the balls. Dragging him to the stairs, Papes put his head on them and Lukey, taking a running start, stomped his head! Wallace went completely limp.]

[With Jane and Lightning being separated outside the ring, Easton clotheslining Vasquez out of the ring so hard that he himself followed head first and Wallace "inconsequentio", it was down to Hanson and Griffith in the ring. Griffith whipped Hanson into the turnbuckle, but Hanson dodged. Griffith hit the turnbuckle with a full head of steam, stumbled back and into a snap DDT from Hanson. Nursing his head, Griffith climbed to his feet, and Hanson, showing some surprising strength, hoisted Griffith into the air and dropped him with a death valley driver! Griffith rolled out of the ring, with Hanson following by heading to the apron, and then running down it and off with a missile dropkick that sent the big man from Boise head over heels.]

[Lightning and Jane entered the ring. Jane was on record as thinking Lightning was the weak point on team WC:C, and their styles were foils for each other – Jane's grappling centric move set against Lightning's love of the top rope and all things aerial. Lightning charged, somersaulted over an attempted dropkick to the knee, hit the ropes and rebounded with a vicious swinging DDT. A quick cover resulted in a looonngg two count. Moving fast, Lightning headed to the ropes, springboard guillotine leg drop attempt missed as Jane rolled out of the way. Lightning got up holding his leg, Jane hit a running bulldog and quickly sunk in a side neck scissor. Lightning began turning red, and had to scramble to the ropes – Jane tried to block this by grabbing the near leg, but Lightning still made it. He shook his neck out, backed off, and Aaron Vasquez tagged himself in.]

[Needless to say Vasquez had no intentions of being a gentleman. He stalked towards Jane and unleashed a roundhouse kick to the ribs (Griffith grimaced watching it), followed by applying a standing kimura armbar. Jane looked for a way out, finally picked one leg and tripped the other, but Vasquez didn't let go of the arm, and added a bodyscissor. Jane managed to push him back to his shoulders, forcing Vasquez to break the hold or get pinned. Vasquez takes the advantage quickly with an Euro uppercut, another roundhouse kick, and finally a lariat that knocks Jane to the mat. Quick cover… gets two. Vasquez pulls Jane up, whips her off the ropes, running Yakuza kick is ducked! Jane on the rebound spins behind Vasquez, Russian leg sweeps him and moves straight into a ground octopus stretch!]

Dr. John: And again, Jane taking this match to the mat, and again, Dusty Griffith reluctant to try and challenge her.

[Lightning springboards into the ring with a guillotine leg drop across Jane's neck, breaking the hold.

Duk: Lucky for team Cascadia that Johnny Lightning doesn't have issues about violence against the fair sex. Apparently though, Dan Easton has a problem with preventing violence against the fair sex.

[Easton roars into the ring, grabbing Lightning in a bear hug and tossing him across the ring with a belly to belly suplex. Vasquez is up to get him some, and gets planted with a stiff backbreaker. Jane rolls out of the ring legalizing Easton as Griffith stomps in. Griffith slams Easton on the face with an elbow strike – Easton returns the strike full force!]

Dr. John: And this is just a vicious fight, folks. The two team captains. Griffith, built like a tank, Easton, strong for his size as well.

[Griffith delivers three elbow strikes. Easton drops to one knee, gathers his bearings, and fires back with three of his own. Griffith stumbles, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, fires back with a big knee lift. Easton doubles over, Griffith hooks him for the vertical suplex, but Easton slips out the back! Easton hits Griffith with a waistlock suplex that shakes the ring, quickly moving forward to apply a chin lock.]

Dr. John: Easton's not only a powerful man but a talented submissionist as well. Look how he's grinding the bone of the forearm into the side of Griffith's jaw.

Duk: I may have liked the guy better when he wore the shades, but I'm not denying he's a bad dude. Question is, though, is he as bad as Dusty?

[Dusty is really more of a good dude, albeit a tough as hell one. He begins powering to his feet, knocking Easton off the chin lock with elbow shots, but Easton switches to a headlock. Griffith pushes, sends Easton to the ropes, Easton rebounds with a shoulder tackle…!]

WHAAAAAMM!!!

Dr. John: …And EASTON is the one who goes down! Three hundred fifteen pounds of Griffith just had too much inertia! And…

THWAACK!

Duk: And there goes Hanson! Missile dropkick again on Dusty! Hanson stomping away on Griffith…

[Easton charges the WC:C corner, decking Lightning off the apron. Vasquez hops down on his own. Hanson pulls Griffith to his feet as Jane enters the ring.]

THWACK!

Dr. John: Stiff shuffle sidekick from Jane, and Griffith goes down! Hanson from the top rope, flying elbow drop! Jane applying a side headscissor, Easton applying a figure 4 leg lock, and Hanson… springboard rolling senton across Griffiths ribs!

Duk: Triple team him, it's his weakness. I dunno, is he allowed to tap out since Jane's not legal?

[Lightning again kicks Jane loose. Vasquez has a bit more trouble getting Easton to drop the figure 4, but he does keep at the boots until Easton retreats out of the ring. Hanson doesn't even bother to try and stop them, he just kicks away at Griffith.]

Dr. John: Notably, Hanson's focusing almost entirely on Dusty Griffith. He's gone on record as saying he cares little about Summer Games, which displeased a lot of wrestlers, but he's very interested in getting some payback against Griffith for taking his Title.

[With Jane dealt with, Lightning runs the ropes and hits Hanson in the back of the head with a flying forearm. Hanson crumples. Griffith rolls outside to take a breather following the double team, and Jane follows Lightning, hitting him from behind just like he did to Hanson earlier, only using a jumping knee. Lightning, Hanson and Jane all topple out of the ring, leaving Vasquez alone.]

Dr. John: Aaron Vasquez, looking for a victim here… oh, I think he's found one.

Duk: Bad time to regain consciousness, Mr. Wallace.

[Vasquez leaves the ring long enough to throw Calib Wallace (who if you remember was beaten down at the beginning of the match and curbjobbed on the ring stairs) into the ring. He quickly applies a tazmission choke.]

Dr. John: First elimination of the match goes to Aaron Vasquez and Team Cascadia!

Eliminated: Calib Wallace at 14:23 by Aaron Vasquez via Tazmission

Duk: Just a formality really, Wallace was barely in to begin with. Now Vasquez needs a new victim.

Dr. John: He's gonna get Dan Easton it looks like, but I don't think Easton has any intentions of being a victim.

[Vasquez fires off a roundhouse kick. Easton slaps his chest and asks Vasquez if that was his best shot. Vasquez fires off a front kick that wipes the arrogant off Easton's face, because the kick hits the face.]

Dr. John: Chico doesn't play fighting spirit games. If you give him an opening, he'll take it and run with it.

Duk: Straight to the pawn shop, MIRITE?

[Vasquez hits hard, nasty, and dirty. He pounds away at Easton until the ref begins a 5 count, and only quits at 4. Pulling Easton up by the hair, Vasquez delivers a series of headbutts. A trickle of blood running down Easton's face, Vasquez nods at his handiwork, takes a step back, spins and swings his elbow…]

Dr. John: Roaring elbow ducked! Vasquez spins around off balance, full nelson applied by Easton! Shakes him around in that hold, lifts him up aaand… backbreaker from the full nelson!

[Vasquez writhes. Easton doesn't give him a second to recover, pulling him up and lifting him overhead in a stalling vertical suplex… down into a brainbuster. Cover…]



















ONE…!



















…TWO…!



















……THRE…



















………EEEE…



















…………KICKOUT!

Dr. John: Not going to be that easy to get Vasquez to abandon those plans of making the wrestling world accept him, but Easton's not done. He's going for the legs… yes, he's looking for the Low Down!

[Easton ties up Vasquez's legs, twists him so he's face down, and plants the knee on the neck, executing the "torture Cloverleaf" that he calls the Low Down. Vasquez's face contorts in pain, Papes and Lukey both jump up on the apron trying to distract the ref, Jane steps out to the floor and yanks Lukey off! Lukey's head bounces off the apron as Hanson neck snaps Papes over the top rope! But…]

Duk: Lightning with the save! While Jane and Hanson dealt with Vasquez's soldiers, it gave Johnny Lightning time to hit Easton with an Enziguiri! Lightning grabs two handfuls of hair and runs Easton across the ring to slam him face first into the mat!

[Easton skids out of the ring and lands face first. Lightning sets up a springboard, but…]

Dr. John: Jane into the ring, jumps on Lightning's back and applies a bodyscissor! Lightning, trying to get hold of her, runs back first into the ring post, but it didn't make her let go… and he falls to the mat! Turning around in the hold, trying to fight his way out, Jane trying to control the arms… and Easton's back in, and he's getting the Low Down re applied!

[The look on Aaron Vasquez's face could be characterized as "agonized despair".]

Dr. John: Easton has his finishing hold locked back in, and Vasquez, he's thinking about tapping, looking for the ropes, reaching for the ropes… AND TAPPING! He tapped! Vasquez tapped!

[Easton drops the hold once the bell rings.]

Eliminated: Aaron Vasquez at 21:42 by Dan Easton

Duk: Hell of a move from Easton, but here comes Lightning. Headscissor takedown puts Easton on the mat, and Lightning going straight back to the top rope.

[As Easton gets to his feet, Lightning swan dives off the top rope, catches Easton by the head, spins around, and drives him into the mat with a reverse DDT!]

Dr. John: What a move from Lightning, and he's going for a cover… and Hanson's going to break it up before it gets started!

[Hanson throws Lightning into the corner, and begins throwing bombing lefts and rights. Lightning finally slumps, Hanson moonwalks to the center of the ring…]

[Meanwhile, Aaron Vasquez is heading backstage, escorted by his soldiers and a ringside security officer. This wouldn't be interesting, except for…]

[… Jeff Andrews stepping out from behind the curtain, with a 40 oz in one hand.]

CRASH!

Dr. John: My God! Did you see that shot! Andrews just smashed a fotie over the head of Aaron Vasquez!

Duk: They've been having issues over in Cascadia, you know. Andrews superkicked Vasquez in the face… Vasquez threw Andrews face first through a glass door and melted down that OLW Title, they're set for a parking lot deathmatch…

Dr. John: And Andrews is storming to the ring!

[Back in the ring, Hanson hit Lightning with a stiff clothesline in the corner. Pulling Lightning out, Hanson picks him up in a front carry and delivers a backbreaker. Holding onto it, he delivers a second one, stands up, and delivers a spinning sidewalk slam, before going for the cover.]



















ONE…!



















…TWO…!



















…THREE-KICKOUT!

Dr. John: Johnny Lightning showing some resiliency.

[As Andrews reaches ringside, Dusty hops off the apron to try and talk Andrews down. Andrews is swaying on his feet, his eyes bloodshot.]

Duk: You know, that fotie that Andrews hit Vasquez with was empty…

[Lightning rolls out of the ring. Griffith, looking away, doesn't notice. Andrews does. He ducks past Griffith and rolls into the ring.]

THWAAAACK!!!

Dr. John: And Jeff Andrews just laid Noah Hanson out with his trademark superkick! I don't know what's going to happen… he WAS on Team Cascadia, key word "WAS"… we think.

[Hanson has the presence of mind to roll out of the ring and regroup. Andrews turns on Jane as she's entering the ring…]

Dr. John: Superkick DUCKED! And Andrews… falls down! And Jane's immediately on him, clamping a bodyscissor around the midsection!

[Ordinarily, Andrews is a good mat technician himself. But right now, he's got no coordination. His legs flail his face turns red…]

[… and then, green.]

Duk: Uh-oh.

[Andrews taps. Frantically. Jane drops the hold and scrabbles away from him. Andrews just barely rolls out of the ring before…]

*ralf*

Dr. John: Folks, I'm… I'm… I have no idea what to say. Can we please get the camera away from there?

[Andrews is on his hands and knees, expelling the fotie all over the ringside mats. Griffith's expression is an even mixture of disgust and pity. Lightning is somewhat amused it seems, Jane and Easton just disgusted, Hanson looking like someone who got knocked cold from a superkick.]

Duk: Well, what's happened has happened. Griffith into the ring, pulling Hanson up… Super Driver II! Double underhook powerbomb and that's going to be all she wrote there!



















ONE…!



















…TWO…!



















……THREE!!!



















Dr. John: And Hanson's gone. Also, I'm being told that, rather than worry about how to deal with outside interference in a Summer Games match, they're going to just say that Jeff Andrews WAS a legal participant in that match, AND that he got eliminated when he tapped to Jane's scissor hold.

Duk: …oooh. He is NOT going to like that when he comes to.

Eliminated: Jeff Andrews at 24:56 by Jane

Eliminated: Noah Hanson at 26:08 by Dusty Griffith

Dr. John: Frankly, I'm disgusted right now. Jeff Andrews is an amazing athlete, he was literally THE favorite to win in the early goings, even over Griffith, and instead he tapped to a bodyscissor and threw up on national PPV. People need to quit egging that man on and get him the help he needs.

[Dr. John sighs.]

Dr. John: Either way, we're down to two on each side – Jane and Dan Easton for WCWA, Dusty Griffith and Johnny Lightning for WC:C.

[Jane steps in the ring and makes a beeline for Griffith, but Griffith immediately turns to tag out to Lightning.]

Dr. John: Jane's mat based style is tough to work in a match like this one, since there are too many people around to break holds. But as the participants thin, it will be more effective for her… tell me Duk, do you think Griffith will fight her if they end up the last two left?

Duk: I can see Griffith being all gentlemanly and sportsmanshipply and getting burned for it. I cannot see him using the ground and pound on her.

Dr. John: None the less, Jane matching up to Lightning, and she wants to keep him slowed down. They're both big on endurance, but Jane moves slow and Lightning's been throwing himself around all match. Also, Jane sort of counts on her opponents being the aggressor, which Lightning knows, and he doesn't want to aggress, but he's not sure how else to go about this, doesn't want to turn it into a mat battle.

[Lightning raises one hand and signals for a tie-up. This isn't Jane's particular kind of grappling, but she meets the hand. Lightning promptly overpowers her with a double wrist lock, Jane breaks the wristlock by kicking his arm, and is ready with a dragon armbar! But Lightning rolls in the direction of the ropes, and is already there. Jane pulls him away from the ropes and applies a standing headscissor.]

Dr. John: And as you see, her plan is to slow Lightning down and work on the endurance.

[Griffith looks concerned on the outside, but he's not about to step into the match against Jane.]

[Lightning stands up. Jane does not drop the hold, rather, she shifts her legs to a figure 4 grip around his neck, still balancing on his shoulders. Lightning wobbles, falls to his knees, makes a lunge and gets the ropes with one hand. Jane is remorseless and ruthless though, dragging Lightning by the ankle to mid ring, sitting down on his upper chest and applying a reverse headscissor.]

Duk: Now, Lightning might actually enjoy that one if there wasn't a match on the line. Jane, you know, she likes to do moves that prove to her opponent that she is, in fact, a girl, it's like a mind game. But in that position, Lightning's also in danger of getting pinned…

[Jeff Andrews pulls himself up to a standing position.]

Andrews: PUNCH HER!

[And Lightning listens, throwing a punch into Jane's ribcage. The effect is immediate, as Jane winces and yelps.]

Dr. John: Jane suffered some injured ribs at the hands of Frank Dylan James, and Johnny Lightning just discovered this! Another punch to the ribs! Another, and she's dropping the hold and clenching the ribs!

[Lightning gets to his feet, runs the ropes, and delivers a front dropkick into the ribs. Jane screams in pain and collapses to the mat.]

Dr. John: Lightning, directing traffic, Griffith into the ring to block Easton from interfering! Lightning to the top rope, and… 450 Splash on Jane!

[Lightning lands dead on the ribs. Jane again screams.]

Duk: Lightning hooks the leg, and I think this one is in the bag for him!



















ONE…!



















(Easton elbows Griffith aside and dives into the ring.)



















…TWO…!



















(Griffith grabs Easton around both ankles… he falls short of breaking the pin.)



















……THREE!!!



















Eliminated: Jane at 32:39 by Johnny Lightning

Dr. John: And that's got to suck for Jane, eliminated by the guy who she thought would be the weak link on the WC:C team. But once Lightning found the injured ribs, it was game over for her, and now it's a handicap match with Dan Easton facing off against Dusty Griffith and Johnny Lightning!

[And Easton, seeing the odds suddenly stacked against him, has an adrenaline rush.]

Dr. John: Flying clothesline for Lightning! Flying clothesline for Griffith! Overhead belly to belly for Lightning! Griffith with a knee, Irish whip, reversed, and Easton with a powerslam on the big man! Easton firing on all cylinders, runs the ropes… DOUBLE FLYING CLOTHESLINE! Stalling vertical suplex on Lightning! Andrews up onto the apron, Easton knocks him off, OHH Johnny Lightning with a spinning heel kick that takes Easton off his feet!

[There's another commotion as someone appears at the top of the ramp.]

Duk: Whoa… that's Pete Whealdon there! WCWA's Pete Whealdon on his way to the ring!

RRRAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

[The fans erupt as Whealdon charges the ring. Andrews turns to face Whealdon. He doesn't do well. A wild swing that the trained fighter easily ducks and responds to with an open hand slap that sends Andrews sinking to the ringside mats, 90% unconscious.]

Dr. John: Whealdon providing the answer to the Andrews problem. The ref, however, checking to see what just happened, he's looking at Andrews… Easton has Griffith by the legs, and he's locking on the Low Down!

[Griffith begins trying to power out. He extends his legs so far that Easton's forehead is on the canvas, but he can't shake Easton's grip.]

Dr. John: Dan Easton is within inches of pulling a huge upset! Griffith has been unstoppable ever since debuting in Cascadia! He's a favorite to win the entire thing, and Easton, Easton has him caught in his finisher!

[Whealdon leaves the ref looking at Andrews and rolls into the ring. Easton sees him, and his face expresses puzzlement.]

THWWWAAAAACCCKKKK!!!!

Duk: …WHAT IN THE BLUE HELL?!

Dr. John: Pete Whealdon just hit a running front kick on Dan Easton! Easton is down! Whealdon is rolling out of the ring…

[The boos go up for Pete Whealdon. No one likes a backstabber. He raises his arms like he's being cheered as he walks up the ramp.]

[Johnny Lightning shrugs. He runs to the ropes and beckons for the ref.]

Dr. John: I can't believe this match is going to end this way… Dusty Griffith doesn't know what happened yet.

[Griffith stumbles over to the downed Easton and lies down across his chest, pulling the head and arm up.]

Dr. John: Iron Vice Choke! He's got the choke on Easton, the ref's checking…

[Easton's arm drops…



















…once…



















……twice…



















……three times.]



















DING! DING! DING!

BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Eliminated: Dan Easton at 41:27 by Dusty Griffith

Dr. John: The fans voicing their disapproval as Team Wrestle Coast: Cascadia advances in Summer Games, and they'll be sending both Dusty Griffith and Johnny Lightning to the final match! But why would Pete Whealdon cost his own fed mates the match? It was that kick to the face that caused Easton to lose…

Duk: Whealdon has a lot to answer for. Hanson loses to Griffith again. Andrews is going to be furious… and Johnny Lightning, who came in as an unknown, heading to the Summer Games final!

Dr. John: This match was sort of a grudge match between WC:C and WCWA, but I think it caused more problems than it finished.

Spectating
Daeriq Damien

[There is a commotion among the crowd to the right, if you were to be looking in the direction of the entrance to the arena, and it moves towards the ring. Coming around a corner, the crowd both pops and jeers Daeriq Damien having seen him already during the PPV facing off against AWF. His wrestling gear is still on, in addition to a black Old Line Wrestling t-shirt that was put on just to poke a little fun at the AWF fans. Security follows close behind, maintaining some crowd control as he moves into the thick of the building swarm. Aleksandra and Owsei emerge closely behind them, with another following]

[A new angle bounces unsteadily as it moves towards the three Damiens, catching Daeriq by surprise as he leads the charge into some seating.]

Daeriq: Hey-whoa!

???: Hey, Mr. Damien. Charles Gumber with Wrestle Connect.

Daeriq: Wrestle Connect? Never heard of it."

[As he forces Charles to continue backwards, Daeriq watches the guy deftly move between people and thinks that he can't be much more than nineteen or twenty years old. Who's hiring journalists that young? Owsei, forging ahead of the two front security people, got to see the introduction. Being he'd been on a basic house arrest, stipulated and enforced by his brother, Owsei had time to poke around the internet and come across the upstart, multimedia publication and decided to let Daeriq in on the secret.]

Owsei: They're a new reporting type of site. Somewhat guerilla and somewhat illegal. This guy here might not be able to support that press pass he's wearing, but, that's part of the fun, right?

[He looks at the kid and gives him a wink. Charles can only respond a little dumbfounded.]

Charles: Um…yeah?

Owsei: So, I'll bet you want to know what we're doing out here, especially since Daeriq, here, had already competed.

[Nodding, Charles agrees and musters another question.]

Charles: Couldn't you all just watch it from the back?

[Getting to, and taking, his seat, Daeriq grasps the question for his own.]

Daeriq: Because from back there, it's a little bit dead. The energy isn't the same as it is right here, in the heart of it all. And, with two of the world's best tag teams competing in that ring next, I want these two to experience the kind of response a great tag match can get.

Charles: So, you bought tickets, didn't bother to change your gear and are here as a spectator?

[Aleksandra decides to interject, her throat feeling a bit parched.]

Aleksandra: That about sums it up, Chuck. Now, be a good boy and run off to find me some water. Oh, or a Cherry Coke. That would do nicely.

[Charles looks at her like he's considering what to do next. Aleks takes this time to remind him.]

Aleksandra: I wasn't kidding. Now here, give us that camera and scoot along.

[She grabs for the camera and removes it from Charles hands with little fight. She hands him a twenty and Charles moves away slowly, looking back and forth between what he's doing and what he should be doing. Noticing her sudden errand boy looking a bit worried over his things, she assures him everything will be okay.]

Aleksandra: Soon would be nice. Don't worry, Chuck. We'll keep it running so you'll get an extra exclusive scoop of us watching the match. Or something. Daeriq's even been to film school.

[She shoves the camera at her brother as Charles quickly thinks things through and decides to follow along. At best, it could be some good footage. At worst, he possibly loses his job. A job in which he didn't particularly enjoy. Daeriq grabs the camera and is soon filming his sister as she watches the guy walk off into the crowd and we catch her smile.]

Aleksandra: It's so easy sometimes. I've just got to do it from time to time.

Owsei: Simple things for simple minds.

Aleksandra: You want to trade me seats, Daeriq?

Daeriq: No way. You're the one who wanted to sit bitch, so, it's your own fault. By the way, Aleks? I've never been to film school. I've thought about going to film school, but I haven't been there.

Aleksandra: Whatever. It's all the same, anyway. You've never done it until you did it, so, get doing.

Daeriq: Copy that.

[A quick spin of our angle and it settles on the ring…]

Match V
Tag Team Exhibition Match
CHIMERA Fight Team (WWA World Tag Team Champions)

vs.

The Sex Symbols (NWA World Tag Team Champions)

Ring Announcer: The next contest is scheduled for one fall, with no time limit. Introducing first, at a combined weight of 465 pounds, they are the En Doubleyou Ayyyy Wooooooooooorld Tag Team Chammmmmmpions, hailing from the Sunset Strip, "Luchadorible" J.D. Hart, "The Sexnition" Sean Peters, Thhhhhhhhhhhhhe Seeeeeeeeeex Symboooooooooooooooooooools!

[As the intro riff from "Sharp Dressed Man" by Z.Z. Top begins playing over the P.A., the arena goes dark, the only illumination coming from strobe lights flashing rapidly around the entrance area of the arena.]

[The Sex Symbols walk out from behind the curtain wearing black vests and black pants and the NWA World Tag Team titles. They start dancing at the top of the ramp way and then strip away the black vests revealing the suspenders that are holding up their pants. They keep on dancing as the music plays.

[They walk down the ramp way stop and poses, holding both NWA World Tag Team Titles up. They then turn around and walk back up the ramp to where they took off the vests and pose some more.]

[They start walking back down the ramp way this time they un-strap the right side of their suspenders and then un-strap the left ones. They walk up the stairs and look around at the fans that are having a mixed reaction to them.]

[They start dancing again after they enter the ring through the ropes. Still dancing they grab their waist band of the pants and tear them away from their body revealing their wrestling attire. They then continue dancing as the music fades away.]

Ring Announcer: And their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of 413 pounds, hailing from Portland, Oregon and Pensacola, Florida respectively, they are the current Doubleyouu Doubleyouu Ayyyy World Tag Team Champions, Curtis Penn, Pete Whealdon, CHIMERAAAAAAAAAAAAA FIGHT TEAAAAAAAAAM!

[The lights fade out to two yellow spotlights shining from the summer games stage down towards the ring.]

[CHIMERA FT]

[The Mythical beast itself rising above the goldenrod logo, in fierce pride]

[As the alternating thundering power chords and hammer on and pull off guitar riffs of Mastodon's March of the Fire Ants powers through the arena sound system, Pete Whealdon and Curtis Penn step out from behind the curtain together, Penn has his Tag Title wrapped tightly around his waist, and Pete Whealdon holds his belt high in the air in his hand, as the descend on the ring, Whealdon placing his belt on his shoulder and slapping hands with the fans, Whealdon wears short tights that come down to the top of his thigh, with his written in strongman lettering across the front and a Chimera rising on the back, with black boots and black kick pads with yellow trim. Penn wears black full length tights with Yellow downwards pointing triangles on the left leg, and a rising chimera on the right, he wears black boots with yellow kickpads with black trim.]

[Both men circle the ring the once while the song rages on in the background, before sliding in to the ring together and hopping to opposite corners holding up their belts, as the crowd screams in approval.]

* Ding Ding Ding *

[Whealdon and J.D. Hart start out in the ring. Whealdon and Hart meet in the center of the ring, eyes locked. Whealdon rears back and delivers a stiff knife-edge chop to the chest of Hart, who staggers back, holding his chest in agony. Whealdon steps up and follows up with stiff savate front kick, sending Hart back into the ropes. Whealdon stalks Hart, sizing him up for a vicious elbow strike. Hart uses his quickness to roll out of harm's way, and executes a picture perfect dropkick to the knee of Whealdon, Whealdon is stunned, and Hart takes the opportunity to ground him with a quick precision DDT, driving Whealdon's head into the canvas.]

[Hart struggles to get to his feet, still woozy from the awesome striking power of Whealdon, and stumbles into his corner to make the tag. Peters enters the ring rearin' to go. Whealdon is on his feet, and goes right back down after a stiff head butt from Peters, the impact of which sends Whealdon to the mat and Peters even staggering back a little. Peters shakes it off and grabs Whealdon, who hoists him up for a Samoan drop! Whealdon squirms out, and connects with a powerful roundhouse to the back of the head of Peters, sending him to the canvas. Whealdon staggers over to his corner, tagging in Penn.]

[Penn comes rearing in, poised to strike, as Peters recovers from the kick, rubbing the back of his head. Penn comes in, and connects with a elbow, opening a tiny cut above the right eye of Peters. Peters staggers back, dabbing at the trickle of blood from his brow ridge. This infuriates Peters, who ducks another elbow and CONNECTS with a huge uppercut, lights out Curtis Penn!]

[Peters goes for the quick cover, but Whealdon pulls him off at 2! Hart enters the ring, and levels him with a backflick drop kick. Peters slams the mat, gets up and grabs Penn, still dazed, in a front face lock and drives him to the mat with a bulldog. The referee tries to clear the other two men out of the ring, while Peters takes the opportunity rubbing Penn's' face into the canvas. When the referee finally turns his attention back to the legal men in the ring, Penn is hooked deep in a single leg crab.]

[Penn tries to reach for the ropes, which are just beyond his grasp. Peters grabs the leg and drags Penn into the center of the ring, where Peters is leveled by a lariat from Whealdon, who receives a hurricanrana from Hart for his trouble. It's chaos again as all four men are in the ring. The referee tries in vain to gain control of the action, and luckily for him, Hart and Whealdon have taken their issues to the outside, where Whealdon is having a field day pummeling the smaller J.D. Hart.]

[Back in the ring, Penn has managed to regain control of Peters, and is hitting him with various high-impact front kicks and elbows, sending Peters to one knee! Outside, Whealdon has decimated Hart and returned to his corner. Hart slowly staggers to his corner as well, as Penn practically knocks Peters head off with a roundhouse.]

[Penn whips a dazed Peters into CHIMERA's corner, where Penn continues his assault on Peters. Penn makes the tag to Whealdon, and they spend a long few seconds double teaming Peters with various kicks and strikes, exasperating the cut above Peter's eye. As the referee forces Penn out of the ring, Peters, out of sheer instinct, thumbs Whealdon in the eye, sending Whealdon reeling. Peters takes the opportunity to spring over to his corner, tagging in a refreshed J.D. Hart!]

[Hart explodes into the ring, nailing Whealdon with a shining wizard! Quick cover for 1 and a half. He pulls Whealdon up, and flips him over with an arm drag into an armbar. Hart cranks on the armbar for a moment before letting go, rolling up Whealdon for another quick cover, this time he gets a 2 count from the bigger Whealdon.]

[Whealdon kicks out with authority, sending Hart into the air and giving Whealdon time to scramble to his feet. Hart comes charging in again with a flying knee lift, which stands Whealdon bolt upright. Hart gives Whealdon another knee, this time to the midsection, doubling him over. Hart hooks in the butterfly suplex, but it's countered by Whealdon with a biiiiiig back body drop!]

[Whealdon luckily staggers into his own corner, where he makes the tag to Penn. Penn comes charging in, ready to level Hart with a big kick.. Hart ducks a roundhouse, and counters it into German suplex, dropping Penn on his head! Unexpected power from the smaller man here... ]

[Hart runs over and jumps up to the second turnbuckle, diving on Penn with a brutal fist drop! Penn is downed at Hart does a small dance, sending Whealdon into the run, but he's cut off by the referee! Hart drops a leg across the neck of Penn, but Whealdon has broken free of the referee, and levels Hart with a stiff lariat to the back of the head.]

[The referee regains control, bringing Whealdon back to his corner... Whealdon is not going willingly, giving The Sex Symbols much needed regrouping time. Hart's up to his feet and stumbles over to his corner and tags in Peters. Peters picks Penn up shoulder high, Hart locks on the front face lock and they hit the flapjack and DDT combination that they call the "Promised Land" on Penn!!]

[Peters covers Penn as Hart runs over and grabs Whealdon and the ropes to keep him from entering the ring.]



















1...



















2...



















3!!!

Ring Announcer: Your winners, at a time of 14:23... THE SEX SYMBOLS!!

Respect
Dan Easton/Dusty Griffith

[Backstage, we find Dan Easton shortly after his first round match up, he walks down a hallway.]

[As he nears a corner, he collides with Dusty Griffith who distracted by something out of view walked around the corner.]

[The two look at one another for several seconds and look to be ready to go to blows.]

[Dan extends his open hand towards Dusty, who breathes a little easier and accepts his hand in respect.]

Dan: "Good match out there tonight."

Dusty: "I couldn't agree more, great match out there."

Dan: "I'm looking forwards to facing you for the WCWA title very soon Dusty."

Dusty: "It will be an honor to step back into the ring with you Dan."

[Both take back their hands, and continue their journeys down the hallway.]

Scouting
Daeriq Damien

[The crowd is up and cheering, both for niceties and jealousy. In the midst of it all, our handi-cam angling begins to shift and then settle on a three-quarter profile shot of Daeriq Damien, who is still seated. Aleks' voice comes through the roar.]

Aleksandra: I picked it right! You both owe me a hundred bucks.

[Both brothers let out a heavy groan.]

Aleksandra: Now, this was fun and all, but we've got to be going.

[The view is askew as the property changes hands. Charles, back in control, gets all three Damien siblings in the shot as two of them begin to move away. Daeriq remains seated. Owsei catches wind of this and questions his brother.]

Owsei: Daeriq?! Aren't you coming along?

[Daeriq doesn't look away from the ring, but, leans in towards the camera and both siblings.]

Daeriq: I have a vested interest in this next match, so, I'm gonna stay a bit.

[Owsei stops the final security guy from leaving and asks his brother if he's sure.]

Owsei: You wanna sit out here without the guys?

Daeriq: I'll be fine.

[His brother's stillness spurns for further assurance.]

Daeriq: I mean it. I'll catch you guys later.

[His eyes fall to Charles Gumber, the journalist extraordinaire reporting far from live for Wrestle Connect.]

Daeriq: Hey, why not follow along, Charlie? You can get an inside bit on a wrestler's life. Right, sis?

[Using her own excuse on her. Knowing it was lost; she accepted it for what it was.]

Aleksandra: Yeah…why not? We can find something fun to do, I bet. You game for it, Chuck?

[He only needed to nod and the three left Daeriq to enjoy the next match up.]

Match VI
Double Crown Title Match
Eduardo Domingo (Double Crown Champion)

vs.

"Handsome" Jimmy Danger

[ The ring announcers stands in the center of the ring, dapper in his tuxedo.]

Ring Announcer: This next match, scheduled for one fall, with no time limit, and it is for the WWA DOUBLE CROWN CHAMPIONSHIP.

[ The crowd responds with overwhelming approval, as the axe-tastic opening riff of "Thunderstruck" by AC\DC begins blaring over the PA. "Handsome" Jimmy Danger emerges to a raucous choir of disparagement from the fans at the Louisiana Superdome.]

Ring Announcer: Introducing first, hailing from Sarasota Florida, he weighs in at 235 pounds, at a height of 6 feet, 2 inches tall, HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDSOME JIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGER!

Duk: Ah, here comes my man, "Handsome" Jimmy Danger! I think we're about to take a look at our next DC champion!

Dr. John: I wouldn't put my money on it tonight! Domingo has got to be ready for this!

[ "Handsome" Jimmy Danger moves from behind the curtain, wearing his standard lime green pants, with his "Simply The Best" t-shirt. He struts out from the entrance area down the aisle, pausing to harass some fans along the way.]

Duk: You know, they don't call him "Handsome" for nothing, look at that physique!

Dr. John: It is impressive.. in a totally heterosexual way.

Duk: Well, of course, that's what I meant..

[ He slides into the ring, under the bottom rope, and stands to taunt the fans in the ring before jumping up onto the turnbuckle, raising his fist, and the ire of the fans in the process. The music fades as HDJ jumps off the turnbuckle and moves towards the far side of the ring. ]

Ring Announcer: And introducing his opponent, now making his way to the ring and accompanied by Freddy Phoenix, hailing from Quemado, Texas, weighing in at 192 pounds and standing 6 feet, 1 inch tall, he is the reigning and defending Double Crown Champion, EDUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDOOOOO DOOOMINGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[Eduardo Domingo comes out of the back to a rather large pop from the crowd, a smattering of boos mixing in with his cheers upon the appearance of Eduardo's manager. Freddy Phoenix gave his protégé a moment before making his way out. They stop in the entrance way as Freddy says something to Eduardo and points to the ring.]

Dr. John: It looks like Domingo s certainly ready for action tonight!

Duk: He's going to need to be, facing H-J-D.

[The two men begin their march to the ring. Freddy gesturing to the occasional fan along the way while Eduardo stays a couple of steps in front of his mentor, eyeing their final destination. Eduardo arrives ringside and rolls into the ring under the bottom rope. Phoenix opts to take the stairs.]

Dr. John: We're seeing a different Domingo than we usually do, he looks focused, ready.. more confident than we've seen in months past.

Duk: He better hope he's more focused than he's ever been!

[The young Domingo hands the ref his title. He then ricochets from one side of the ring to another as he gets a feel for the squared circle. Freddy remains on the ring apron for a moment before entering.]

[As Freddy gives his protégé a few last words of advice, HJD takes the opportunity to get the jump on Domingo!] * DING DING DING *

[Jimmy Danger starts out the match by laying the boots to the smaller Domingo. Satisfied with his initial onslaught, Danger turns and poses for the crowd.. but Domingo kips up! Domingo with a dropkick to the knee of Danger sends the Handsome one sprawling to the canvas as Domingo shakes out the cobwebs.]

[Domingo goes after Danger, stomping on the knee he just nailed with the dropkick. Danger, cognizant of his positioning in the ring, decides to avoid the onslaught by rolling to the outside.]

[Without hesitation, Domingo runs the ropes, and goes for a suicide plancha... no! Domingo holds on as Danger ducks the oncoming plancha! Domingo goes up with an Asai moonsault to the outside which.. CONNECTS with the confused Jimmy Danger!]

[Domingo gets to his feet and stalks the downed Jimmy Danger.. Domingo grabs him.. Irish whip.. reversed! Domingo goes crashing into the guardrail as Danger struggles to get his wits about him.]

[Danger finally chases Domingo down, nailing him with a snap suplex to the concrete floor! He picks Domingo up, rolls him into the ring, and himself climbs to the apron.. climbs to the top, and connects with a flying elbow drop for a quick two count. Danger complains about a slow count as he pulls Domingo up again.. and out of nowhere Domingo hits him with a jawbreaker!]

[Domingo struggles to his feet as Danger stands.. Domingo runs the ropes.. and lands a flying cross body for a quick two count of their own.]

[Both men recover quickly, and the crowd is on its feet!]

[The two men approach each other staring each other down.. Domingo goes for a haymaker, which is blocked! Domingo counters with a roundhouse that's caught by Danger.. who ducks the ensuing Enziguiri attempt and applies an ankle lock on the DC Champ!]

[Danger cinches the hold in the middle of the ring! Domingo writhes in agony as the crowd starts getting behind the young Texan. ]

[DO-MIN-GO, DO-MIN-GO, DO-MIN-GO!]

[Domingo reaches out for the ropes in vain, as Danger pulls on the champ's foot, twisting the ankle.. Domingo, in a desperation attempt, tries to roll towards the ropes, and catches Danger off balance, using the surprise opportunity to kick Danger off. As the referee checks on a immobilized Domingo, Danger stumbles into the ropes, where his face is met by the fist of Freddie Phoenix!]

[The crowd roars in response to Freddie Phoenix getting some small revenge on Danger, who is laying against the ropes on the far side! Domingo struggles to get to his feet, but finally does. He shakes out his ankle, and notices Danger, who is only now recovering from the fist of Phoenix! Danger tries to get up and loses his footing, leaving him sprawled over the second rope! Seizing the opportunity, Domingo runs the ropes and smashes danger with a sick looking Tiger feint kick, busting open the nose of Handsome Jimmy Danger.]

[Domingo takes a moment to shake out his ankle again, before going back to Danger.. who is enraged by the blow to his handsome face! He gives Domingo a quick thumb to the eye, and follows up with a DDT, sending Domingo crashing head first into the canvas! Danger follows up with a pin, getting two and a half for his trouble!]

[Danger slaps the canvas and quickly gets up, motioning to the crowd that he will soon be the new DC champion. He pulls up Domingo, and tosses him over the top rope! Danger runs the ropes himself this time, and connects with a huuuuge suicide dive onto a staggering Domingo! Danger scoops him up, and nails him with a reverse Russian leg-sweep, slamming Domingo's face into the hard floor on the outside.]

[Domingo may be out cold, as Danger rolls his lifeless body into the ring. He is about to follow suit, when something catches his eye. He turns, standing directly in front of the time keepers table, and the Double Crown Title. Danger seems almost in a trance as he stares at the belt sitting on the table.]

[The distraction is enough to allow Domingo time to revive! Danger slowly reaches for the title belt, feeling the top part of the belt. Domingo is perched on the top turnbuckle! Danger, finally realizing he had a match left to win first, whirled around in time to see, in what may be the Kodak Moment of the evening, Domingo launching himself into the air and connecting with a MAVERICK COUNTY LINE from the top!]

[Domingo and Danger crash into the timekeepers table, as the crowd reacts with pleasure! Both men feeling the effects of that move, Domingo lying on top of Danger, both men struggling for enough air and the will to continue! Domingo is the first to his feet, and the crowd responds with a noticeable pop!]

[Domingo grabs the downed and bleeding Jimmy Danger and rolls him into the ring. Freddie comes over to check on Domingo, but Domingo waves the veteran off, he's fine, apparently.]

[Both men now in the ring, on their feet, Domingo staring down a woozy Jimmy Danger. Domingo nails him with a stiff forearm right to the nose, getting a splotch of Danger's blood on him as his reward. Danger is stunned, but not down and out just yet. He responds to Domingo's blow with a knife edge chop to the chest of Domingo. Domingo recovers and delivers another forearm. Danger replies with another chop. ]

[Domingo, tired of this game, grounds Danger with a spinning heel kick. He follows up with a pin attempt, for a looooong two.]

[He pulls Danger up, runs him to the corner and nails a tornado DDT and another pinfall attempt, but Danger kicks out just in time. Domingo nails him with a elbow drop, kips up, and jumps to the top turnbuckle, coming down hard with a knee drop to the face of Danger.]

[Domingo pulls Danger up and nails him with a DDT. He quickly pulls him up again, and hits him with another! Domingo is a man possessed, it seems!]

[With the crowd firmly behind him, Domingo pulls Danger up one more time, who takes a few almost comical swings at Domingo, which he easily avoids.]

[Domingo stuns him with one more forearm to the nose, before NAILING Handsome Jimmy Danger with the Buenas Noches!]



















1....



















2....



















3!!!!



















[Domingo retains the Double Crown Championship!]

Ring Announcer: Your winner at 20 minutes, 32 seconds and STILLLLLLL Double Crown Champion, EDUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDOOOOO DOOOMINGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

On The Same Page
Ryan Blasier

[Backstage.]

[The Inner Circle sits in comfort, occupying the pair of leather sofas that furnish the World champion's private dressing room.]

[A mini-fridge door sits open, as Josh Styles reaches in to grab a bottle of water. Aaron Vasquez and Abraham Lozada speak in hushed tones, as Vasquez's foot soldiers, Lukey and Papes pass a massive Cuban cigar back and forth between them.]

[Standing, as he always seems to be, Cunningham watches, his eyes scanning anything and everything, in his role as bodyguard. His scrutinizing gaze pauses on the conversation taking place near the door to the dressing room between Ryan Blasier and Khalid Jad.]

[The World champion and his Iraqi cohort seem to be engaged in some sort of disagreement, if their hushed, yet harsh tones are anything to go by.]

Jad: " ... just want more control over my career. I don't think that is too much to ask for."

[Blasier shoots him a smirk.]

Blasier: "You already have full control over your career. How you perform in that ring is the only deciding factor in whether you win or lose."

[Jad grits his teeth.]

Jad: "That is not what I meant, and you know it! You determine where I compete, who I fight against, who I fight with. You act like God, deciding which direction I am to go at all times!

[Blasier arches a brow.]

Blasier: "I always thought you people referred to him as Allah."

[The young Iraqi looks on the verge of exploding. The way the numerous muscles in his face seem to twitch, clench, or otherwise move in concert with one another, lends evidence that he's trying his best not to rise to Blasier's obvious baiting.]

Jad: "I simply ask ... beg that you allow me more freedom to decide my own course. Is that too much to ask?"

[Blasier pauses, a look of contemplation on his face. He taps a finger against his lips, then turns to Jad and shakes his head.]

Blasier: "Actually, it is."

[The mocking disappears from Blasier's expression, replaced by his own mask of intensity.]

Blasier: "You will continue to do what I tell you to do, and you'll accept my word as law. Because if you don't, you know exactly what's at stake."

[Jad clenches his fists, speaking through gritted teeth.]

Jad: "At this point, suffering whatever punishment you decide for me for disobeying you is better than continuing to be your unthinking puppet."

[A snort from the World champ.]

Blasier: "You sure about that?"

[Jad only pauses for a moment.]

Jad: "Yes. I am through with this. So do your worst."

[And with that, the Inner Circle's number dwindles by one.]

[Blasier watches Jad storm from the dressing room, the door slamming shut in his wake.]

[All eyes turn to the door, their own personal conversations halted. Cunningham joins Blasier, the big man's tentativeness apparent as he nods his head in the direction of the door.]

Cunningham: "Want me to have a word with him?"

[Blasier shakes his head, eyeing the closed door.]

Blasier: "No. Let him have his so-called freedom. He's the one that'll have to live with the consequences of his decision."

[Fade to ringside.]

Stand By Your Convictions
Khalid Jad/Christian Light

[Fuming, Khalid Jad makes his way through the backstage area, passing by various event staff, who are working diligently to make sure the biggest event on the WWA calendar goes off without a hitch. Head down, mind focused on his argument with Ryan Blasier, Jad doesn't see the person approaching him.]

[Lucky for him, the other person steers clear of his path.] "You might want to watch where you're going, Khalid. I hear this is a no speeding zone."

[The tone is friendly, the words in jest. Jad lifts his head and focuses on the speaker, as if noticing the man for the first time.]

Jad: "Sorry. My mind is ... elsewhere."

[Standing before him, is the former World champion, and Hall of Famer, Christian Light, dressed in his silver sequined "Seine" ring jacket and blue wrestling trunks. Hands on hips, he frowns at the young Iraqi, noticing the dour expression on Jad's face.]

Light: "Not a problem. What's wrong?"

[Jad waves a hand dismissively.]

Jad: "You wouldn't understand."

[Light's brow raises, and then comprehension dawns in his eyes. He nods his head.]

Light: "Ryan Blasier."

[Jad doesn't immediately respond, simply staring at Light, a wariness in his gaze that seems to suggest he thinks that, somehow, this might be a trap. That if he admits his true feelings, Light will report back to Blasier. Which is ludicrous, considering the past between Blasier and Light. But at this point, Jad has a difficult time trusting anyone.]

Jad: "As I said, you wouldn't understand."

[Light looks him straight in the eye.]

Light: "You might be surprised. Try me."

[A protest on his lips, Jad opens his mouth to respond. He shakes his head instead, closes his eyes for a moment, and takes a couple of calming breaths.]

Jad: "The things he makes me do, the things he subjects me to ... it is too much to bear sometimes. It's like, he takes a perverse pleasure in forcing me to act against my moral beliefs. He enjoys giving me orders he knows go against everything I believe in, everything I live for."

Light: "Then why follow him? You've proven you can go far in this business on your own."

Jad: "It's ... it's not that simple. I ... I don't want to get into it, but it's more complicated than that. I ... just don't know what to do."

[Light reaches out an comforting hand, and places it on Jad's shoulder.]

Light: "Khalid, you need to do what's best for Khalid Jad. You and I have history. I know what you're capable of in that ring. You have untapped potential, the chance to be one of the best the World Wrestling Alliance has seen."

[He pauses, allowing his words a moment to sink in.]

Light: "But you need to follow your own path. You can't allow someone else to decide what you should do, or where your career should go. You have to be the one to make the tough decisions, because you're the one that will end up living with the consequences."

[Jad nods his head slowly.]

Jad: "I know. It's just ..."

[Light nods in understanding.]

Light: "Ryan Blasier's a difficult man to cross. I've experienced first hand what the man is capable of. But I also know you've got the courage and conviction to stand up for your beliefs. I think it's time you did just that."

[For the first time in what seems like forever, a smile creeps across Jad's expression.]

Jad: "I will. Tonight, my actions are my own. Thank you, Christian."

[He holds his hand out to Light. The 'Last Nighthawk' gladly accepts the proffered hand and shakes it.]

Light: "My pleasure, Khalid."

[Fade.]

Roads
Victor Mandrake/Dusty Griffith

[All roads had led to this. This one shining chance at immortal glory, which was at one time what he hoped to prove on a football field.]

[He figured a wrestling ring would work too.]

[Dusty Griffith was preparing himself physically and mentally for the Summer Games Final, the biggest match of his career to date. He did a few pushups, and the few fast paced football drills that he could in the space he was given. Mostly it was to work off the nerves, calm the anxiety, and clear his head.]

[All roads had led to this.]

[A soft knocking at the door broke his concentration.]

"Come in, " Dusty said.

[A six foot tall raven haired beauty with alabaster skin and sapphire eyes opened the door. She was dressed professionally with a black jacket, low-cut blue blouse, and knee-length, tight black skirt with high stiletto heels.]

"Good evening, Mr. Griffith, I'm Mr. Mandrake's assistant for the evening. He asked me if I could have you meet him in the parking garage for a quick word before your match."

"Um, sure," Dusty said, thinking it odd at first, but dismissing it. "Where exactly."

"Platform six, row six, space six."

"Heh," Dusty chuckled. "Six, six, six, eh? That's not ominous or anything."

"Mr. Mandrake does have his quirks," she said with a smile.

"That's one way to put it…" he said partially under his breath while he tied on his boots. "Yeah, that's fine, I'll be out in a minute. By the way, what's your…"

[He looked up. She was gone.]

"…name?"

[He looked out the door both ways, not finding any trace of the woman who delivered the message. He slightly frowned, but went out anyways to meet Victor. As he closed the door, she watched him from a spot in the shadows.]

[Morrigan Mandrake grinned wickedly, and left in silence. Her work was done here.]

~~

[All roads led to this. Now, it led him to the parking garage.]

[Dusty went to the garage, up to platform six, row six, and space six. He didn't even have to get to the row to find Mandrake, his massive 7'4" frame being quite easy to spot. He was in his wrestling gear still, having inserted himself in the HRW/GEC match after Olympus' desertion, wearing his custom designed black tights, combat boots, while remaining shirtless, his tattooed torso serving as his war paint. His long black hair partially obscured his face, though you could still see those menacing icy blue eyes beneath. He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back, as if trying to appear stalwart.]

"Quite a match you had out there, Mr. Griffith," Victor said.

"Thanks Victor, I certainly gave it my all," Dusty responded.

"That you did. I hope you left enough for the finals."

"Me too, though, once that adrenaline kicks in, it's usually not a problem."

"Ah yes, adrenaline," Victor mused. "The chemical that is said to give a mother the strength to lift a car off of her crying child all by herself. Of course, I've also found that in certain situations, it can turn the noblest of men into raving animals."

"Riiight…" Dusty said, not sure what to make of the current conversation. "So…what's up? You had your assistant say you needed to see me about something?"

[Victor extended his left hand towards Dusty.]

"Just wanted to wish you good luck tonight in your match."

[Dusty nodded, and returned the hand shake.]

"Thanks Victor, I really apprec-"

[His sentence was cut off by an agonizing scream coming from his own lungs, caused by his left shoulder being dislocated by the incredibly strong arm of Mandrake. Victor raised his right arm from behind his back, which held a lead pipe, and brought it crashing down on the shoulder that he injured all those years ago in football, making him scream even louder as he collapsed onto the floor. Griffith rolled around on the ground screaming obscenities as the pain shot through his entire body. Victor tilted his head slightly to the side as if studying Griffith, trying not to miss every twisted contortion of his face and body as he writhed. He bent down towards Griffith, as he took a swing at Mandrake. He dodged it easily and laughed before kicking him in the face to subdue him. He grabbed his arm again and relocated it to another piercing scream.]

"Good luck, Dusty."

[Victor dropped the lead pipe, the dull clanging of it hitting the concrete drowned by Griffith's excruciating screams.]

[All roads led to this.]

[Except now, the road might end in failure.]

Match VII
Summer Games Final
Dusty Griffith vs. Johnny Lightning vs. London Freemantle
vs. Justin Brooks vs. Python vs. Joe Drago

[The winner of this year's Summer Games was about to be decided. After all the work the six remaining competitors did in the first round, it looked to be an excellent final match. Johnny Lightning was the first man to make his way to the ring. He had a somewhat warm reception from the fans in the Superdome. After him was his first round teammate, Dusty Griffith. Griffith was almost limping from the excruciating pain in his shoulder due to the heinous attack by Victor Mandrake. He still managed to keep his chin up and his eyes fierce, determined above all else to see this through.]

[After the survivors from Team WC:C were in the ring, Joe Drago headed his way to the ring with another lukewarm response. Followed by him was Python. Based on the fans' reaction, he was the definite fan favorite of the remaining competitors. Python gave a few of the New Orleanians high fives as he slide into the ring. Justin Brooks came in afterwards, light boos from the fans.]

[After Brooks entered the ring, the man who eliminated the hometown heroes walked down the ramp. London Freemantle looked upon the crowd who passionately booed him and laughs. He enters the ring, and the bell sounds.]

[Drago starts off the action with an armbar on Griffith's bad shoulder. It was fairly obvious as to Griffith's condition, and that was going to be the target all night long for him. Freemantle throws Python into the corner and starts a barrage of punches. Brooks and Lightning start to tie up with Brooks kicking Lightning in the mid-section and laying him out with a DDT in the center of the ring. Freemantle tries to eliminate Python immediately, but Python hangs on to the top rope. Freemantle grabs Brooks, thinking he eliminated Python, but Python hits a springboard dropkick to accomplish two things: get Freemantle back and to get back in the ring. Brooks gets back up and stomps on Freemantle. Freemantle gets back up and lifts Brooks in the air. Freemantle forgets about Python, who then kicks Freemantle in the back. Brooks still freefalls a good seven feet in the air and hits the mat pretty hard.]

[Griffith, in agonizing pain, finally escapes the armbar. Drago runs at Griffith for a possible clothesline, but Griffith ducks, and Drago meets the corner turnbuckle a little closer than he wanted to. Griffith tries to eliminate Drago, but the injured shoulder seems to aggravate him too much to try to lift him over the ropes.]

[Johnny Lightning gets back up and gets his first offense on Python. He nails Python with a dropkick. Both men get back on their feet and Python tries the dropkick this time, but Lightning backs away quick enough to watch Python kick air. Lightning hits a DDT on Python. Brooks gets up to see Griffith and Drago in the corner. He hits a huge splash on the two of them. Griffith falls to his knees in agony of his shoulder. Drago is still face first in the corner. Justin Brooks begins to try to get Drago over the top and eliminate him. He gets Drago over the ropes but Drago lands on the apron. Drago gives Justin Brooks a few lefts and rights, but Brooks finally hits a low blow on Drago, falling against the ropes. Brooks lifted Drago up and over the top and scored the elimination.]

Joe Drago eliminated by Justin Brooks @ 4:21

[Brooks now turns to the second person in the area, Dusty Griffith. Brooks extends out the arm of Griffith and stomps on the injured shoulder. Griffith screams in pain. Brooks tries to finish him off by tossing him over. Griffith, however, holds on to the middle rope with his good arm and is able to slip back inside the ring.]

[Lightning whips Python into the ropes. Python ducks as Lightning attempts a clothesline and bounces off the other side. As Python comes back, he hits Lightning with a cross body block that had a lot of air going into it. Freemantle gets back up and grabs Python as he rises. He lifts the small wrestler and hits a crushing backbreaker, his spine bending like an accordion as he bounces off of Freemantle's knee. Lightning gets back on his feet and dropkicks Freemantle, staggering the beast. Lightning follows up with a spinning heel kick right to London's jaw, putting him down on all fours. Brooks gets in the mix and stomps on Freemantle's body until he finally lies down. Python gets back to his feet. He gets on the top rope to try a high flying maneuver on Freemantle, but Johnny Lightning had a different plan in mind. Lightning quickly runs over to Python and pushes him off, knocking him off the turnbuckle and crashing into the barricade.]

Python eliminated by Johnny Lightning @ 7:43

[The fans follow Python's elimination with a shower of boos. Freemantle gets back to his feet and throws Brooks into Griffith, who was finally getting up. He starts to choke Johnny Lightning with his bare hands, lifting the smaller guy in the air. Lightning, who was just seconds ago being booed for eliminating Python, having his name chanted to get out of the move by the giant London Freemantle. Brooks hits a low blow on Freemantle, forcing Freemantle to let go of his strangulation attempt on the defenseless Lightning. Freemantle gets back to his feet and looks at Justin Brooks with an evil stare. Brooks defiantly returns the stare, walking towards the Hollowman. Freemantle dodges a swing, grabs Brooks, and throws him in the corner. He hits lefts and rights like the madman that he is. He momentarily stops the assault, only to hit a snapmare on Brooks followed by a vicious kick to the back of Brooks' head. Freemantle unleashed a brutal assault of kicks, punches, elbows, and bites before lifting Brooks in the air and tossing him over the ropes.]

Justin Brooks eliminated by London Freemantle @ 9:00

[Griffith and Lightning both look at each other while a hungry looking Freemantle eyes them menacingly. Nodding to each other, they immediately try to push Freemantle over top. Freemantle fights both of them off. He kicks Lightning in the groin, then grabs Griffith's bad shoulder, digging his nails in and ripping downward before hoisting him up and drilling him with a shoulder-breaker. The six foot eight monster sets Griffith up for his signature Graveflower until Lightning gets back on his feet and hits a Russian Leg Sweep. Griffith scrambles to get back up as Freemantle on his feet as well. Dusty, with some sort of spark of life, drills London with a rapid barrage of right fists. Freemantle backs into the ropes. Lightning gets back on his feet. Each man rushes Freemantle, grabs one of his legs and lifts up, causing the big guy to fall over the top and into elimination.]

London Freemantle eliminated by Johnny Lightning and Dusty Griffith @ 11:10

[Dusty Griffith and Johnny Lightning, two teammates from Team Cascadia, were the two last people remaining in the thirty-two man wonder that we know as Summer Games. The two look at each other and tie up. Lightning, not wanting to lose two tie ups in the same match, slides under Griffith's legs and quickly hits a German suplex on the three hundred plus pounds of Dusty Griffith.]

[Griffith gets back up, holding his shoulder. Lightning grabs the arm and starts to lock in an arm bar on the injured shoulder of Dusty Griffith. Griffith tries to fight out the armbar. Lightning whips Griffith into the ropes. Griffith comes back and is falling over the top rope which was being held down by Lightning.]

[COULD WE HAVE A WINNER?!?!]

[Not quite. Griffith holds on to the middle rope yet again. He slides back into ring and hits a huge clothesline on Lightning. Lightning had his lights knocked out by his team captain. Griffith gets Lightning back on his feet and whips Lightning into the ropes and hits a giant powerslam. The Boise native gets Lightning back on his feet and backs him into the corner. Lightning lays limp in the corner. Griffith gets back into the other corner and charges. Lightning is crushed between the three hundred fourteen pound Griffith and the sturdily built corner of the ring.]

[Griffith grabs Johnny Lightning and throws him over the top.]

[BUT LIGHTNING GRABS ON TO THE BOTTOM ROPE!!]

[Griffith turns back to a cheering crowd as everyone thinks he has won. Lightning is doing everything in his power to keep is feet off the ground, and finally pulls them up back into the ring. He climbs back in through the middle and bottom rope. He jumps on Griffith's back and starts to lock in a sleeper hold. Griffith tries to grab Lightning, but is losing strength with every wave of his arm. He falls to his knees. Lightning locks his legs on Griffith's torso. Griffith falls on his stomach. Lightning gets back on his feet, gets on the top rope and hits a leg drop on Dusty. Lightning grabs the injured arm of Griffith and twists it, causing Griffith to get back on his feet. He pushes Griffith into the ropes, hoping Griffith's weight causes enough momentum to make him fall to his elimination. Griffith falls over the top, but he quickly grabs on to the middle rope.]

[Lightning sees Griffith holding on to the middle rope. He tries to pry his hand open. Griffith gets a foot back on the apron. Griffith lets go of the rope with one hand and shoves Lightning away and is able to get back in the ring. Lightning, angered, runs at Griffith and into a Dominator Slam. Griffith grabs Lightning and it looks like he is going to hit Super Driver II. Lightning struggles a bit as Griffith lifts him in the air but is nearly a limp body after the impact of the move.]

[After Griffith successfully hits his finisher on Johnny Lightning, he put Lightning on the ropes and flips him over and out of the ring for the win.]

Johnny Lightning eliminated by Dusty Griffith @ 24:54

[Dusty Griffith stands in the middle of the ring as the crowd roars of cheer after witnessing one of the hardest fought victories in Summer Games history. Confetti falls as Griffith is on his knees in middle of the ring as the new Summer Games champion.]

Dr. John: And folks, we finally have it, the winner of Summer Games IX is none other than Dusty Griffith!!

Duk: I know a lot of people had him riding as a favorite, and he certainly lived up to all the hype and expectations today.

Dr. John: What makes his victory even more remarkable is the vicious attack he suffered at the hands of the vile Victor Mandrake just minutes before the match.

Duk: "Vile" might be a little much. He was just making his victory that much more meaningful.

Dr. John: Somehow, I honestly doubt that.

Duk: Well, either way, Dusty Griffith is going to be the challenger to the title, the question is, who's going to be the champion? Ryan Blasier is set to defend his World Title against Warlord I Sergeiev Bogorovich, next.

The Promise
Sergeiev Bogorovich

[Kengoro Sugamoto, Splenda, and Jonah Proudfeather stood under the set. The big metal stage was packed full of pyro, but seeing as the match had already started (The Summer Games Final. Some dude versus some dude versus who gives a shit.), nobody was paying attention. A fourth man was with them, and no... It wasn't Donovan.]

[This was a pyrotechnics guy.]

"So, man, it's def' gonna work?"

"The other pyro has been going off properly all night. I'm sure this pyro will go off properly as well. We spent a shitload of money on it, so don't worry. It'll work. Trust me, this is my job."

[Kengoro crossed his arms, and leaned forward some.]

"Are you sure?"

[The guy looked up, one eyebrow arched, other eye squinting.]

"What the hell, dude. Do I ask you if you're gonna be able to wrestle properly?"

[Jonah looked up, hiding a snigger. Splenda smacked Kengoro in the chest, cackling softly.]

"Damn. He gotcha."

[Kengoro shook his head, waving his hands dismissively.]

"Alright, alright. Whatever. I just want to be sure that the entrance will be appropriate for Serbo. This is his big chance."

[The three men stood, silently, for the briefest of moments, before Jonah spoke up, the pyro tech working on ensuring his shit would go off properly.]

"Where IS Serbo?"

[Serbo was kneeling in the backlot of the arena, near where all the cars were parked. The moon was out. Fat, and orange, and hanging high in the sky, casting an odd glow over everything. The parking lot was still and quiet, and the only sounds were the echoes of cheers from inside the arena.]

[Serbo's eyes were closed, and he was in full ring regalia. Ankles were taped, MMA gloves were on his hands. CHOOSE DEATH t-shirt on his chest, black ringshorts on his legs. But out here, out in the dark...]

[Serbo was giving his promise.]

"For all that you suffered before you met me...

"For all that you suffered from knowing me.

"For all the pain of your last few moments on this earth...

"And for your untimely passing...

"He will pay.

"For all that he inflicted before he met me...

"And for all that he inflicted after he met me...

"For all the pain he has caused...

"And for his evil tactics.

"He will pay.

"I understand he has been grasping my mindset...

"But he cannot possibly understand the need for vengeance that I have inside of me right now.

"His grasp on his title, his need to be champion... It is not a burning need.

"Not compared to the thirst for vengeance I have, parching my throat, cracking my lips, making me lightheaded.

"I may not win the title, but I will swear on your death... He will not be able to defend his title once this match is over.

"I WILL break him. This match is not about the World Title.

"It is about me getting my vengeance."

[Sergeiev Bogorovich rose... Turned, and walked toward the arena door, just in time for the man he had asked to give him a time opened the door.]

"Mister-.. Oh. Mister Serbo... You're up."

[Sergeiev Bogorovich walked into the arena. It was time.]

End Game
Ryan Blasier

[Sitting alone, the private locker room vacated to allow him a few moments of peace and solitude before his match, Ryan Blasier leans his head back against the leather sofa, his eyes closing shut.]

"Any minute now, I'll be hearing The Tap, the knock on my door to let me know that it's my time to head to the ring."

[He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.]

"Another title defense, against another challenger, in another city. The life of a World champion is more hectic than people realize. We're not allowed nights off. We can't afford a sub-par performance in the ring, if we want to maintain our grasp on the biggest prize in the industry. One mistake, no matter how minor, and it's all over. We're right back in the middle of the pack."

[He laughs sardonically. His eyes fly open, suddenly, intensity in them as powerful as the sun.]

"But people like you, Sergeiev, try to make it sound so easy. You fool people into believing that all it takes to be a World champion is one dominant performance. Maybe you don't know any better? After all, you've never tasted World championship champagne, have you?"

[He laughs softly.]

"You rant, you rave, you stick out your chest, and you thump your fist against it. People watch you, and they think this is what a champion should be. The ability to annihilate people in the ring. Physical intimidation, that sort of thing. The ones who don't know better, see you and believe that being a raving, maniacal monster who tears apart his foes is what a World champion should be."

[A shake of his head.]

"How dare you lead them astray. You learned this week, Sergeiev, that being a World champion is more than simply being able to out wrestle, out fight someone in the ring. It's an entirely different mindset. It's being able to reach inside your opponent's skull, and twist your hand around inside there, until everything within is a useless husk."

"That's what I've done to you. I've beaten you down mentally, to the point where you have nothing -- nothing -- on me. You're already a beaten individual, Sergeiev. I've already won. In a few short minutes, we're just going through the formality of it."

[Reaching beside him, he lifts The Prize, the World Heavyweight title, and holds it cradled in his hands before him, like he would a baby.]

"I have to ask you one last thing, Sergeiev. How much do you want this? How much do you truly, honestly, sincerely want this title? I ask you this, because you haven't once tried to take it from me since the moment you knew you'd booked your free ride at Crown of War."

"You see, I haven't sought you out, because it's not my job to find you. Why should I chase you, Sergeiev? What do you have that I'd want? I already have the most important trophy in all of wrestling. So explain to me, explain to these fans, why in the hell I would give a damn about chasing after a fraud like you?"

"But you ... you should have been dogging me non stop. You should have been hounding me, to the point I'd need a restraining order on you just to be able to take a shit without you peeking in the window. You should have hunted me to the point where I had no place left to run and hide."

"You should have done all that, because this title should have been worth the effort! You should have sent a message a long time ago, that you wanted this title, and would stop at nothing to take it from me! You should have proven to the world that this title meant everything to you!"

[He pauses, shakes his head, and takes a couple of calming breaths. Composed once more, he chuckles.]

"Instead, you thought you were above the rules of the game. You thought you'd re-invent the rules of the chase. Whether it was due to arrogance, or whether you truly think you're greater than you actually are, you seemed to sit back and expect me to be the one to come to you."

"That proved to me how little you coveted this title, and how little you understood what it takes to become a champion. Your time has passed, Sergeiev. You might as well announce your retirement after our match, announce that you're returning to Russia to go fight in some unknown underground mixed martial arts federation. Because in a few short minutes, I'll have defeated you."

"In a few short minutes, I'll have shown you what it means -- truly means -- to be the World Heavyweight champion."

[Almost as if on cue, there's a knock at his door. He glances over at it, but doesn't respond.]

"It's time."

"Remember your victory at Crown of War, the last time you mattered."

"Remember the months afterward, when coming for the biggest prize in our sport was secondary to you flaunting your AWA dominance."

"Remember these words, Sergeiev, when you're sitting at home, watching a replay of the Summer Games event."

"Remember the night you were schooled by the WWA World Heavyweight champion."

"But most importantly, remember the night when Ryan Blasier showed you what true greatness was."

[Next up, the World Heavyweight title match.]

Match VII
WWA World Heavyweight Title Match
Ryan Blasier (World Heavyweight Champion)

vs.

Sergeiev Bogorovich (Warlord I)

"THE FOLLOWING MATCH IS YOUR MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!"

[The lights dimmed.]

"AND IT IS FOR THE WORLD WRESTLING ALLIANCE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!"

[The arena grew quiet, the anticipation at a fever pitch. They knew what was coming. They knew what was happening. The only question was, would it end the way they wanted? Would it end the same way it had been ending for months now?]

[Another riot?]

[As the arena grew quiet, a chill wind began to blow through the arena, bringing a much-needed respite from the summer heat. The speakers kicked to life.]

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU~!"

"WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED, FOURTY EIGHT POUNDS..."

[Crank Dat Souljah Boy?]

[The steel-drum beats hit, as out from the back came a lone figure... A brilliant grin on his lips, cornrow'd hair gleaming under the spotlight. No cane, no floppy hat, and a ricockulous suit...]

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW-YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU~!"

"FROM SAINT PETERSBURG, RUSSIA, ACCOMPANIED BY SPLENDA..."

[Splenda began to dance, in that wonderful, already passé style, the Souljah Boy... Kick, fling the arms out... And while he was doing this lovely little dance, Splenda's suit shined and gleamed, the reflective golden surface of his finely made suit shining the light from the spotlight, and the flashbulbs, back at the fans assembled.]

[Crank dat Splenda Boy.]

[Microphone flashed into his hand, as if it were hidden up his sleeve the whole time, and from behind his golden, money-sign-painted sunglasses, Splenda grinned, his smile brighter than usual... Splenda had a grill.]

[Golden title belt replicas, itty-bitty ones, on each tooth! Of course Splenda was confident that his charge would be the new World Champion after tonight, he was the best manager ever, bitch! Dancing fluidly, Splenda brought the mike to his lips.]

"YO, WHO HEAH WANTS T' SEE A NEW WORL' CHAMPEEN?!"

[Riotous applause! YEEEEAAAAAH! Everyone wants to see a new World Champ! Blasier was a jerk! Never gave the fans what they wanted! With Serbo, if you come, expecting a sucka to be kicked in the face, well, THAT'S WHAT YOU GOT!]

"LEMME HEAR IT! CHEER IF YOU WANNA SEE SERBO AS NEW WORLD CHAMP!"

[A riotous cheer went up, as Splenda stopped dancing, running to the edge of the steel ring ramp. Jabbing a finger toward the audience, Splenda widened his eyes, as he pulled off those sunglasses. Tucking them away, he brought the mike back to his lips.]

"YO I CAN'T HEAR YOUUUUUUUUUUU!"

[A blast of steam and fog issued forth from the side of the entryway ramp, clouding up the area over the entrance stage. Crank Dat

[Souljah Boy] faded out, replaced with a gloomy, dark silence. Organ music began to chime over the house speakers, a thick fog blowing out of the back of the entryway ramp. A reddish light appeared, the others fading out...]

[The stage parted, splitting into two great, steely pieces. Pneumatic lifters began to arch the stage upward, into two huge pyramidal shapes, both of which lit on fire with a thunderous roar. As the thick fog rolled down the ramp, and began to surround the ring, Splenda stood at the foot of the ramp, a finger pointed at the massive, spiky structure of fire.]

"DIS MY BWOY, TH' WARLORD, TH' RUSSIAN SUPAMAN..."

[The intro track, "Four Horsemen", from Judas Priest's "Nostradamus" album, began to move into the vocals. Rob Halford began to bemoan the desecration of the world, the world of men gone mad...]

[The final age had come to pass... The Apocalypse was here at last. A call to arms - the end of all.]

[Peace on earth... No more.]

[The pneumatics lifted the platform slowly upward, as fire belched skyward, from the tips of those steel triangles, the pillars and clouds of flame, and thick, inky black smoke making it look as if Serbo was being lifted from the nose of a great cat from hell.]

[A demonic feline, engulfed in flame and bringing its hero to wreak havoc upon all those who have slighted it. Splenda bounced, and threw an arm into the air, laughing with glee, as a spray of sparks hit Serbo from behind, bouncing off his shirt, his legs, his bowed head. Another spray of ivory sparks, then another and another and another, until the entryway area was alight with white light, the tracers of the sparks dancing down the steel ramp.]

[Serbo's fists were clenched at his side, fingerless MMA gloves on his hands. Dressed all in black and gold, Serbo looked like, dare we say it, a Dark Knight? Feet were bare, ankles taped up. No elbow pads, kneepads on his long, thickly muscled legs. A pair of baggy black shorts were upon his hips, the waistband and bottom leg bands done in gold trim, glittering in the light.]

"HE'S TH' RUSSIAN SUPERMAN..."

[A spray of ivory fireworks went skyward, with a loud crack, like a thunderclap, before the fire blasted skyward, powerful enough to make the cameras glitch out, bathing Serbo in a brilliant red aura. The red and the white... It engulfed Serbo for the briefest of moments, before all the flame and sparks faded.]

"TH' WARLORD..."

[Golden AWA Heavyweight Championship around his waist, eyes as cold as the metal showing him to be a champion here, in the southern United States.]

"THE AWA MID-SOUTH HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!"

[A significantly louder cheer for that one. These were southern wrestling fans. As such, they were likely going to AWA shows, when the AWA was in the area. As such... Serbo was the top guy in this region. Many had seen him defending that title, time and time again...]

"FROM SAINT PETERSBURG, RUSSIA..."

[Bald head ducked for a moment, eyes cold and narrowed. A hand stroked his goatee, as he pulled his ragged old "CHOOSE DEATH" shirt up, over his shoulders. It was covered in white cat's hair, and looked holey and worn. Definitely not a brand-new shirt, by any means... The song had changed from one to another, to the song "War", the followup to "Four Horsemen", off "Nostradamus". Halford wailed, as Serbo stepped onto slightly warmer ring ramp. Pulling the shirt completely off, Serbo tossed it to Splenda, and proceeded down the ramp, barechested. That glittering gold belt around his waist, Serbo headed to the ring, eyes focused on that squared circle.]

"HIS NAME IS SERGEIEV BOGOROVICH..."

[Leaping onto the ring apron, Serbo wiped off his feet, before climbing in, under the top rope. Turning around, Serbo undid his AWA Title belt, as the hard guitar-work and brutal drums bathed the arena in rocky awesomeness. As Splenda climbed onto the apron, Serbo handed over that golden belt, and turned towards the entryway, hands resting on his knees as he bent over. Eyes narrowed, and Serbo gritted his teeth.]

"SEEEEEEEEERBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

[The Russian Superman stood in the ring, watching the entryway for his hated foe, the man whom he had vowed to, at the very least... Hurt. A lot.]

"And his opponent…"

["My Hero" by the Foo Fighters blasts over the arena speakers. With red and blue spotlights criss-crossing the entrance way, a sole individual in front, flanked by six men.]

[The first wears a pair of black full-length wrestling trunks, with 'Blasier' written in gold down each leg, matching black elbow and knee pads, and black boots, with silver laces. The most notable piece of his wardrobe, however, is the polished silver knee brace, over his right knee.]

[And draped over his right shoulder, the prize that everyone is after, and the one that Blasier will do whatever it takes to keep in his grasp.]

[The WWA World title.]

[Flanking him are his bodyguard Cunningham, 6'7" and close to three-hundred pounds, Josh Styles, the former WWA World tag champion and last year's Summer Games champion, Aaron Vasquez, former OLW Trios tag champ, and dirty bastard, Abraham Lozada, the former GEC title holder, and Vasquez's foot soldiers, Lukey and Papes. Notably absent is one Khalid Jad, the increasingly dissident former World Champion.]

[Blasier leads the group collectively known as the Inner Circle toward the ring, ignoring the calls of the fans. Not a single cheer rains down on him. He and his group are met with curses and tossed debris, a reward for their onslaught on fair play. His blue eyes are focused on the ring, his stride with purpose, as he navigates the fifty or so feet from the backstage to the ring steps.]

[Blasier climbs the steel ring steps, pausing at the top. With his right hand grasping the top rope, he turns to the crowd, acknowledging them for the first time, with an upraised fist, before climbing through the ropes.]

[The Inner Circle members make their way around the ring on the outside, surrounding it as though they're on the brink of gang raping a bitch caught in a dark alley.]

[He then makes his way to the opposite corner, climbing to the second turnbuckle. Fists raised, he brings them down to slap against his chest, once, twice, and a third time, before hold his arms up, out wide, two fingers aloft, as he mouths the words, 'Two time champion'.]

[He leaps down off the turnbuckle, and makes his way to the opposite corner, and repeats the process. Mounting the second turnbuckle, arms raised, three times slapping his chest, arms held up, out wide, two fingers held up, mouthing, 'Two time champion', and then dismounting.]

[Finally, he turns to face the referee, handing him the belt, and stares down his opponent.]

[As the bell rings, both opponents begin to circle each other. Neither seems particularly willing to enter into the fray with the other man, especially considering that both men have spent so much time learning each other's styles and techniques. Serbo shifts his balance, and Blasier instantly recognizes is as a sign for a takedown, moving back and leaning forward to counter it. Serbo stops, adjusts his footing, and continues to circle. Serbo rounds to Blasier's corner, and Blasier to Serbo's. For a brief moment, Serbo lets his eyes shift from his opponent to watch the posse outside, and Blasier takes advantage.]

[He charges with an extended arm, going for an opening clothesline. Serbo catches it quickly enough to duck, shifting behind Blasier, and grabbing him in a waistlock. Blasier just as quickly though breaks the waistlock, and slides under Serbo's legs, going behind and brining him down by the legs. Rolling through, Blasier attempts to isolate the leg, and hook on an ankle lock. Blasier manages to get a hold of the leg, but Serbo quickly swings the other behind him, striking Blasier in the chest and sending him backwards. Serbo rolls through, and returns to his feet, both men yet again at a stalemate.]

[Suddenly, both men charge at each other, locking up at the collar and elbow, struggling for control in each other's grasp. Serbo knocks away one of Blasier's arms, and pulls the champion's head close to his chest. Grabbing him in a headlock, Serbo cranks on the neck, but Blasier quickly drops to a knee, and slides out of the Russian's grip. Blasier grabs an arm from behind, and attempts to lock in a chickenwing, but Serbo manages to swirl around, catching Blasier's legs and dropping him with a spinning toe hold. Serbo attempts to follow through into another headlock, but again Blasier is too slippery, pulling his head out of the way just before Serbo can lock on. Blasier quickly slides to his corner, catching his breath as Serbo pounds the mat angrily.]

[Serbo quickly charges for Blasier, not wanting him to get away, but the Champion slides right out of the ring, continuing to catch his breath. For a moment, it appears that Serbo is going to follow, but noticing the posse on the outside, he decides the better of it. The Russian angrily prowls the ring, waiting for Blasier to enter. Each time the nine-count is about to sound Blasier rolls into the ring, and then right back out, breaking the count. Each time, the crowd grows more furious at the champ, and Serbo's glare turns more intense. The third time Blasier attempts the escape, Serbo manages to catch the champ by his hair, forcefully pulling the champion into the ring.]

[The ref quickly breaks up the illegal hair pulling, and Blasier attempts to escape from the ring again. Serbo pushes right past the referee, and catches Blasier's ankle as he makes the dive through the ropes. Blasier, spins, and attempts to break Serbo's grip with a kick to the hand, but Serbo holds tight. Angrily, Serbo tosses Blasier's leg to the ground, and stomps hard on the champ's wounded knee. Blasier grabs his injured knee in pain, leaving him exposed for an elbow drop. Blasier manages to roll out of the way before the impact, getting to his feet despite the obvious pain to his joint.]

[Serbo's expression has remained unchanged throughout the exchange, his eyes focused coldly on Blasier on the other end of the ring. Blasier however, is a bit more animated, adding a bounce to his step as he moves from corner to corner, attempting to shake the hurt out of his knee. Stopping at a ring post Blasier lifts his hand, challenging the Russian to a test of strength. Serbo slowly shakes his head, not wanting to play any games with the champion. Blasier stomps furiously, and again raises his arm as a challenge. Again Serbo refuses it.]

"What are you a chicken?" Josh Styles calls out from the ring.

"No, he's a pussy," Blasier laughs. "A little pussy cat."

"Shit, maybe he's possessed, maybe he's possessed by the putty tat," shouted Styles.

"Yeah, Serbo, is that it, got a feline on the mind?"

[It was Blasier's intent to use the cat's death to inflame Serbo. He did that much. It was his hope that this would cause him to act sloppy in his anger. He did not get the result that he had hoped, to say the least.]

[With the speed of a crack of lightning, Serbo crosses the ring and charges straight for Blasier. The champion only has time to feebly cover himself before the Russian is upon him, tackling him to the ground and raining a series of fists and elbows onto Blasier. The ref attempts to count to five, but Serbo ignores the referee's warnings, continuing to hammer on Blasier until forcefully pushed off. Serbo nearly strikes the ref in retaliation, but decides against it, storming angrily to around the ring as the ref attends to Blasier. Blasier is angrily calling for the referee to disqualify Serbo for the attack, getting in his face.]

[Cunningham sees it as his opportunity to strike, sliding in behind Serbo and driving a double axe-handle directly into the Russian's back. The attack from the much stronger man stumbles Serbo, and Blasier uses it as the opportunity to strike just as Cunningham returns to the outside. Blasier scores with a successful clothesline, sending the Russian to the ground. Serbo gets to his feet, but is met only with a second clothesline, again sending him to the mat. The second time Serbo gets up more slowly, and Blasier punishes the Russian with an Enziguiri to the back of the head. Blasier gets to his feet slowly, favoring the knee, and gestures victoriously to the crowd.]

[Pulling the Russian to his feet, Blasier softens up the Russian with a few chops, backing him into the turnbuckle. Blasier, once cornering the Russian, whips him into the opposite turnbuckle. Serbo cracks painfully against the metal, and stumbles forward, caught for a fourth time by a running clothesline. Now, firmly in control, Blasier pulls the Russian to his feet, and forces him back down again with a Russian Leg Sweep. Blasier struts around the ring, feeling confident, but also distracting the referee as Vasquez chokes Serbo from the apron.]

[Once Vasquez was finished, Blasier charged back in again and struck the recovering Serbo hard in the ribs with a kick, lifting him off his feet with the impact. Laying him flat, Blasier hits the Russian champ with a standing moonsault.]



















1…



















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[Serbo kicks out. Blasier, frustrated, drops a few quick stomps onto Serbo's abdomen, attempting to knock the breath out of him. Showboating now, Blasier gives himself a good running start, and drops a hard elbow into Serbo's ribs.]



















1…



















2…



















[Again another kick out.]

"Is this it? Is this the Russian Superman?" Blasier cries to the crowd, now venomously opposed to the champion.

[Blasier picks up the Russian again, and, looping around, slams him with a hard German suplex.]

["Time to go home," he said, lifting the beaten Russian to his feet. Serbo quickly falls onto one knee, and Blasier falls back to the ropes. Slapping his knee brace, Blasier charges for the Russian, hooking the Russian's head, and leaping for a Tornado DDT…]

[… receiving an epic spine-buster for his troubles! Serbo, somehow, had the move scouted, and was able to catch the Champion mid-dive and drive him hard into the canvas. It wouldn't be enough to finish the man, but it would be enough to buy Serbo the time he needed to recover. Both men gasping for air, Blasier is the first to his feet, still the less injured of the two. He grabs for Serbo's head, but Serbo cuts him off his a strong forearm to jaw that staggers Blasier. Recovering quickly, Blasier goes to grapple again, and this time is hit hard with a closed fist. Blasier falls back, and charges a third time for the Russian, but Serbo catches him, and uses his momentum for an overhead Belly-to-Belly!]

[Serbo lets out an angry roar, and immediately is upon Blasier, deadlifting him from the ground and back dropping him directly onto his neck! Serbo holds on, rolls through, and adjusts his grip on Blasier, trapping both arms from behind and slamming him again with a Tiger Suplex. Still not satisfied, Serbo ties in a full nelson, and finishes it with a Dragon Suplex, driving Blasier's neck for the third time in a row. By this point Blasier is little more than a ragdoll, but Serbo is still unrelenting, without pity in his assault. He pulls to Blasier to his feet, and begins to hammer on him with left and right hooks. Blasier is attempting to defend himself, but it is of little use as each punch goes right through his defenses.]

[Finally Blasier collapses under himself in the corner, and Serbo, deciding he has had enough, lets him go. Just kidding. He actually tosses him head-first into the ring post. Blasier cracks off the steel, and hits the ground spilling blood. The ring post tore a deep cut above his right eye, and the blood started spilling across his face, limiting his vision. Blasier, blinded, moved his hands around wildly, attempting to find the ropes. Instead, he found Serbo, who quickly tucked Blasier's head between his thighs, and lifted him vertically. Tucking his arms and legs together, Serbo drops him, without protection, directly on the top of his head with a Package Piledriver. Serbo quickly makes the cover.]



















1…



















2…



















3!



















No!

[Lozada managed to slip Blasier's foot onto the rope when no one was looking, and the referee counts it as a rope break! The match continues!]

[Serbo, sensing he is close to victory, pulls Blasier away from the ropes and charges for the ropes on the opposite side of Blasier's posse. He springs off the first rope, onto the second, and again onto the third, finally arching himself mid-air, for a top-rope moonsault. The camera is awash in flash bulbs as Serbo makes his rotation mid-air…]

[…and is caught by Blasier's knees right in the chest. The already injured ribs of Serbo connect hard against Blasier's metal knee brace, almost certainly cracking bone. Serbo hits the ground hard, clutching his chest in agony as Blasier struggles to get to his feet. The champ wipes the blood from his eyes and stumbles to a turnbuckle, slowly climbing it. His posse is attempting to talk him down, but Blasier is having none of it. Finding his balance, Blasier makes a leap of faith…]

[…and connects with a diving Senton onto Serbo's injured ribs. Unfortunately, Blasier failed to get a total rotation, and ends up landing hard on his neck, which is already heavily damaged from Serbo's suplexes. Blasier holds his neck in agony, as Serbo gasps for air. Fighting the tingling that is now running down his arm, Blasier struggles to his feet, and attempts to lift the Russian giant up with him for a follow-up move. As the challenger gets to his feet, he forces all of his energy into a final desperate spinning heel kick, catching Blasier right in the jaw and snapping his head back hard. Blasier falls instantly, knocked out cold, and Serbo takes the fall directly on his chest. The crowd is in shocked silence as Blasier lays motionless, and Serbo cries out in pain.]



















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5…



















6…



















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9…



















[Serbo, somehow, is able to pull himself to his feet, breaking the count. Blasier has not so much as moved the entire time, his glazed over eyes staring directly up at the lights. Serbo, exhausted, struggles his way towards the champion, hoping to catch the winning three count. Just as Serbo drops to make the cover, Lukey jumps onto the apron, attempting to force his way into the ring. The referee runs over to stop him, leaving Papes completely open to charge in and drive a metal rod directly into Serbo's chest. Papes continues to wail on the ribs of the challenger, when, suddenly, a fan from the audience charges into the ring and takes him out!]

[It's not a fan, its Kengoro! Kengoro, minding Serbo's wishes, literally kicks Papes right out of the ring and follows him outside, raining down hard blows onto the interloper. Lukey, seeing his partner being assaulted, drops from the apron and goes to help, only to meet a clothesline from across the security barricade. It's Donovan! Suddenly, the entire Faces of Death faction appears from the crowd, each member descending on an opponent from The Inner Circle! It's Kengoro on Papes, Donovan on Lukey, Proudfeather on Cunningham. Styles, Vasquez, and Lozada attempt to interfere but Splenda brings all three to the ground with a big dive from off the apron. The ref watches the brawl outside, not calling disqualification as it had not affected the action.]

[As chaos erupts from outside the ring, Serbo and Blasier are both slowly making their way to their feet. The fans' anticipation is at a fever pitch. With the Inner Circle being distracted enough by the Faces of Death, they might actually get the match that they've been wanting for months.]

[They might actually get the champion that they've been wanting for months.]

[The two men approached each other, but that's when a third man made his presence known at the top of the ramp.]

[Khalid Jad.]

[He emerges from the back, glaring daggers into Blasier's black heart. The fans were just about to boo cacophonously, had it not been for Jad removing his button-down shirt to reveal two simple words.]

["Choose Death."]

[The fans erupt into cheers, Serbo visibly relaxes, and Blasier's eyes begin to dart around wildly, going into panic mode. With his posse having their hands tied with Serbo's faction, and his seemingly last hope of redemption betraying him, Blasier's odds of walking out the champion became dangerously low.]

[Jad storms the ring, as Blasier and Serbo tangle up again. Serbo nails Blasier in the gut with a quick knee, and begins to grind down the champion with stiff kicks and forearms. Jad scoops up the World Title on the way, sliding into the ring. Cunningham gets a momentary reprieve from Proudfeather, long enough to lunge for Jad, but he ends up grabbing the ref, tripping him up and causing him to smack his head on the mat, leaving him lying down dazed and confused. Jad escaped Cunningham's grasp and slid into the ring. Serbo stopped Jad just short of taking Blasier's head clean off of his shoulders with the belt, wanting the victory to himself. Blasier got to his knees, eyes wide in pain, as if he was holding back an agonizing scream.]

*CRACK!*

[Turns out, he was holding back laughter.]

[The fans roared in unflinching rage as Serbo's form fell to the mat after his head was caved in by the World Title Belt held by Khalid Jad. Jad helped Blasier to his feet, and together, the two of them destroyed Sergeiev Bogorovich, blasting him with the belt, then the titanium knee brace, then the belt, then the titanium knee brace.]

[Over.]

[And over.]

[And over.]

[As a final insult to injury, Jad rips his "Choose Death" shirt in two, tossing it on the unconscious and bloodied form of the Russian Superman with a look of utter disgust on his face. Almost as if in slow motion, a wearied Blasier falls to the mat, draping an arm over the AWA Champion, as Jad directs the ref's attention to the pin.]



















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3.



















[Cue riot.]

[The fans, unable to contain themselves anymore, break out into total chaos. They topple the guardrail and storm the ring, throwing chairs, cups, trash, cameras, monitors, other people, anything they can find. They want Blasier's head on a stick, and won't be satisfied until they get it. Swaths of security in full riot gear rush to the ring, keeping the raving fans back as best as they can while they get the wrestlers out of there. It's all they can do to keep them back. The largest concentration of the swarm moves with Blasier as he's escorted out, grasping his World Title, still his, still belonging to him.]

[A camera is violently ripped out of a crew member's hands and launched. The image spirals wildly before crashing into the ring.]

[Static.]

[Post show.]

[Dusty Griffith.]

[Summer Games IX Champion.]

[The road had ended in victory, after all.]

[He sat in his locker room with his arm in a sling, a couple of hours after the event had ended, and he was still unable to truly come to grips with his astonishing achievement. He took the wrestling world by storm, snagging every title put on the line against him, accumulating win after win after win, then coming to Summer Games, beating a formidable team in WCWA, suffering a devastating injury at the hands of Victor Mandrake, and still coming out on top against the likes of Python, Justin Brooks, London Freemantle, and even his own teammate Johnny Lightning.]

[For the first time since he last stepped out on a football field, he felt liberated. All the pressure of the hype, all the expectations and publicity that weighed so heavily upon him was now gone, replaced with an utter feeling of euphoria.]

[However, Dusty was fully aware of the task that was laid before him now. Being Summer Games Champion was not only something historic, but it was a starting point for his next task.]

[Becoming World Champion.]

[Which, of course, meant that he'd presumably be facing one of the most vile and dishonorable champions in the Alliance's history.]

[Ryan Blas-]

*THUD!*

[A sudden knock at his door broke his train of thought.]

"Who is it?" he asked, wary that it might be Mandrake again.

[No one answered.]

"Hello?" he asked a little louder.

[Still no answer.]

[Muttering something under his breath, he got up, grinding his teeth at the pain in his shoulder. He whipped open the door and found no one.]

[What he did find was a knife in his door with a note attached.]

[Two words. One name.]

"You're next."
-Blasier

[It would seem the road hasn't ended, after all.]

Credits:
OLW vs. AWF - Adrien Cochrane
AWA vs. WWA - Kevin Cavallaro
HRW vs. GEC - Peezy
WC:C vs. WCWA - Jeff Andrews
CHIMERA FT vs. The Sex Symbols - Ryan Donahue
Domingo vs. HJD - Ryan Donahue
SG Finals - Adrien Cochrane and Matt Shearer
Blasier vs. Serbo - William Wherry and Matt Shearer
All proofreading, coding, and organization - Matt Shearer
All segs written by their respective authors.