NFW Collision #130! 05/03/2022!

Nick Hanson: We’re getting word that someone has just arrived at the arena.

Jim Reynolds: Who shows up to an event this late?

Cameras cut back to the parking lot as a blacked out 1987 Monte Carlo SS is seen idling into view. Suddenly the lights in the Vlad Blackheart Colosseum go out, plunging the Chicago, Illinois fans into darkness.

Nick Hanson: The lights just went out on us, quite an ominous way to kick off Collision…

Jim Reynolds: Somebody forget to pay the power bill?

A lit fuze sizzles across the video screen, leading to an explosion of pyro around the entrance stage. The sound of a gunshot and a car peeling out, then the opening guitar riff for No Remorse’s “UNKILLABLE” shred across the PA speakers.

The silhouette of a man can be seen slowly walking through the curtains and onto the entrance ramp.

Nick Hanson: Hey, that’s gotta be our late arrival… that’s Dane Preston!

Jim Reynolds: Who?

Nick Hanson: Dane Preston, one of Fight NYC’s top stars!

The six foot, three inch, two hundred and fifty-five pound fighter stalks his way to the ring, clad in leather and denim. Stepping into the ring the man known in other circles as High Octane Dane asks for a microphone.

Dane Preston: New Frontier Wrestling, what the fuck is up!? So… You know who I am, but you don’t know… why… I’m here.

The fans pop, bringing a smile to Preston’s face while he spins the microphone around a couple times.

Dane Preston: So, you really wanna know why the Hell I’m here? Come on now, it was a no brainer. A pair of dear friends in Robi Sorrenson and Druscilla White have been nagging me to stop by and say hi. Not to mention Steven Brody and the NFW front office sweetening the deal with a FAT contract. I’ve got a wife, a girlfriend, and a pair of twins to feed, who am I to say no to a big money deal? Well, here I am!

He pauses for a moment.

Dane Preston: To be honest, it was never about the money, it was all about timing and opportunity. The stars aligned just enough for me to agree to the deal, plus Collision looked like it was in dire need of some fresh talent. I mean, you’ve got Hayley Halsey running around here doing anything and everything she can not to defend her title. You’ve got a pregnant Mary Matthews, hiya Waddles, how you doin? It’s safe to say Collision needs a pick me up. Well, look no fucking further than yours truly…

Preston paces the ring a little.

Dane Preston: Let me be perfectly clear with you guys. I didn’t come here to play savior, I came here to break necks, cash checks, being bold and winning gold. And the gold I came here for is currently wrapped around Tren Descarrilado’s waist. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in this business long enough to know you don’t just waltz in the front door and demand a shot at the Champ right from the jump. But you’re all going to find out really fucking fast that there is no one more qualified than me to go after the top dog. I don’t care who I’ve got to go through, I’ll make short work of each and everyone of the crazy bastards in that locker room…

Suddenly the opening to “Committed” by One Eyed Doll blasts out of the PA system and the fans perk up as they know well and truly what is coming, and so do the commentators.

Nick Hanson: The new guy didn’t just say the word that I think he said, did he?

Jim Reynolds: I mean, considering who is about to welcome him to Collision in her own special way, what the Hell do you think, Nick?

Sure enough, Sylvia Lopez bursts out onto the stage seething as she stands at the top of the ramp glaring straight at Preston before she begins to storm down the ramp. Not wasting any time, when she reaches the ring, she rolls under the bottom rope and marches right up to the newcomer in the ring, looking ready to throw down with him, however he stops her in her tracks by putting his hand on top of her head and keeps his arm at full length to avoid the swings from the Bellevue Banshee.

Nick Hanson: Sylvia trying to take out our newest acquisition, however Mr. Preston seems to be holding her at bay!

Jim Reynolds: Let’s see how long that lasts!

Dane Preston: Wow, we’ve got ourselves a real live wire here don’t we? Sylvia Lopez, right? I’m going to take my hand off your head and hand you this microphone, sound good?

Slowly Dane removed his hand from the top of Sylvia’s head, when the Bellevue Banshee snatched his wrist and bit his hand, before taking a pair of fingers in each of her hands. Lopez looks out at the crowd with her eyes wide, a sadistic smile plastered from ear to ear. With a swift jerk of her body, Sylvia delivers a devastating Finger Break. Preston drops down to one knee, clutching his hand when Sylvia runs to the ropes, bounces off and slingshots herself at her prey, only to be caught mid-clothesline and driven to the mat.

Nick Hanson: A brutal STO, by Dane Preston!

Jim Reynolds: Preston’s back up to a standing base!

Reaching down with his good hand, Dane picks up the microphone as Sylvia gets back to her feet, still seething and ready to fight.

Dane Preston: Settle down now, Lopez. Godsdamn, I got the memo about you having a short fuse, but I didn’t expect this. You have a match later tonight, and I don’t fight for free. So what say you and I stick a pin in this for now? You really wanna go toe to toe with me – seeing as we can’t go head to head…

Lopez once again attempts to go after Preston, however this time security is quick to swarm the ring and they grab hold of the crazed woman who is kicking and flailing and screaming, doing her damnedest to get her hands on the man antagonizing her.

Nick Hanson: While I admire the guts of Mr. Preston, I’m not sure if he is truly aware of how tough and how smart Sylvia Lopez is.

Jim Reynolds: He’s a professional, Nick. He’ll have done his research on every single person on this roster. How do you think he knew how to push Lopez’s buttons and this is his first appearance here in NFW.

Dane Preston: I’ll tell ya what, since ya wanna fight me so bad, let’s raise the stakes. Reckoning Day… Sylvia Lopez and Dane Preston. You can be the first to fall victim to the new measuring stick of NFW. You’re looking at it!

Spiking the microphone Dane defiantly steps closer to Sylvia and smirks, before backing away, dropping to the mat and rolling out of the ring.

Nick Hanson: Woah! His first appearance here and he’s already challenging someone to a match at Reckoning Day!

Jim Reynolds: Do you honestly think Sylvia can wait that long? Because I don’t.

Nick Hanson: Will this be the last time we see the Bellevue Banshee and The Phoenix throw down before Reckoning Day?!?

Preston proceeds to leave up the ramp while Lopez continues kicking and screaming as we cut elsewhere.
We cut back to the arena looking like we are about to start out the next match when suddenly the lights go out and a voice is heard on the sound system.


The lights come back on as “Chaos is my life” By the Exploited hits the sound system and the crowd all start to boo as Johnny Towers along with Sid Robinson and Tyler Brown appear in the audience and walk down to the ringside area.

Nick Hanson: What the hell is he doing here?! I thought he would still be in hospital recovering from the beating he took from everyone at Ascension! Including a returning Damon Cross!

Jim Reynolds: He's an anarchist, Nick! Nothing's gonna stop him from doing what he wants to do!

Nick Hanson: Yeah, well, he's not Wor-AHHH!

His scream is because of Johnny Towers who had reached the ringside area and smacked the announce table in front of Nick.

Johnny Towers: Yeah, I thought so! Keep talking shit, bitch, and I'll make sure it's a one man commentary table the rest of the show!

With these words he goes and grabs a microphone off the table and slides into the ring as the music fades out and all that can be heard is the fans constantly booing the men in the ring.

Johnny Towers: Oh, shut the fuck up, ya wankers! I got something to say!

This clearly doesn't work as the fans continue to boo him.

Johnny Towers: Ya know what? I’m not in the fucking mood, because you know what, people? I should be standing here celebrating today with that World-fucking-Title in my hands! But you know what? I DONT HAVE THE FUCKING TITLE, DO I?! But it didn't take Dona to beat me, no. It did not take Danni to get the best of me and it sure as hell did NOT take that stupid bullshit train Tren to do it, either! No, it took someone to do something they kept on saying over and over again that they were above. Someone that kept on calling me out and then using the very tactics that he once looked down on me for! Of course, I am talking about the little bitch baby that couldn't handle someone mentioning his name on live TV. The man who has looked down on me since day one because I dared not to be in his little clique of circle-jerkers congratulating each other on what legends they fucking are! So listen and listen well!

He starts to pace for a moment breathing hard and an evil look on his face.

Nick Hanson: Oh man, he's not happy! I'm gonna get on the edge of my seat just in case he tries something!

Jim Reynolds: Yeah, that's a good idea considering he's looking very volatile right now!

Johnny Towers: I called out every single person and champion on this roster that night and you were the one that called me out. You are the one, Mr. So-Called Redeemer, that set all of this into motion. All the pain that has befallen your wife and child is all on your own fucking head because of your poor judgment that day. Now you go and cost me something I scratched and clawed for and now I have dragged you down to my level, bitch. No more looking down on me! NO MORE! Because people like you only have one deserving place in this life and that is under the boot of people like me who will make sure the next time you are put out on the shelf it’s fucking permanent. NOW, WHERE ARE YOU, YA DAFFY CUNT?! GET THE FUCK OUT HERE, CROSS! GET OUT HERE AND TAKE THE BEATING YOU HAVE COMING YOUR FUCKING WAY!

Strong words directed toward the Redeemer, as a red-faced, furious Johnny Towers paces back and forth in the ring, Sid and Tyler standing before him and cracking their knuckles. Clearly this is not meant to be a fair fight!

Nick Hanson: As much as I hate admitting it, Towers has a point! Damon showed up in the main event of Ascension and put him through a table, no doubt costing him the gold!

Jim Reynolds: You hate the truth, huh? It’s like this, Nicky: we’re about to see how much man there is in the Redeemer based on whether he can take this beatdown like a man or if he’ll hide again!

Several moments pass before “Rise” by State of Mine starts to play, the Collision Center happy to welcome back Damon Cross as he walks onto the stage clad in a white suit. He strides smoothly to the top of the ramp and retrieves a microphone from his back pocket, soaking in the reaction for a few moments before Towers gestures angrily while all but screaming into his own mike.

Johnny Towers: SHUT THAT FUCKIN’ MUSIC OFF! This ain’t no goddamn welcome-home party for your bitch ass, Cross! Get down here and take what you got comin’, you slimy bi-

Damon Cross: What I have coming?

His tone is as smooth as his pace, but loud enough to cut Johnny off, who looks more livid by the moment. Cross strokes his chin a little, thoughtfully, then runs a hand through his long hair before chuckling.

Damon Cross: Let’s take this point by point, John, because when this is over, I don’t want any question into your mind as to why-

He holds up a hand which, shockingly, stops Towers from launching into another tirade, albeit briefly.

Damon Cross: -and after that, you’ll get your fight.

Nick Hanson: Doesn’t sound like Damon is gonna back down to me!

Jim Reynolds: Yeah? Someone make sure the rest of the Crusade isn’t lurking somewhere waiting to strike from behind! I don’t trust this geek!

Clearing his throat, Damon addresses the men in the ring.

Damon Cross: You came into MY house and dropped MY name, Towers. What makes me a man was not going to let that slide, nor did I. So if you want to call it like it is, then yes, I started this. Except I kept the war confined to you and I. YOU decided to bring in those two stray mongrels that you’re hiding behind right now! YOU decided to take some personal shots at me and mine verbally AND physically, even after getting dumped on your skull which for any sane man would have been a clear warning to stop! And YOU tried to take ME out!

Now Damon is the one feeding off the anger and rage, except he keeps a good handle on it.

Damon Cross: And y’know what? I could have let that slide, John. Swept it under the rug. Called it the nature of the game. But then you crossed that sacred boundary, the one that turns men into monsters and gods into devils.

A threatening finger is leveled at the ring and the men within it.

Damon Cross: You made Leina cry.

Now Towers looks amused, fake-crying in the middle of the ring while Tyler and Sid make a show of consoling him. Damon cracks a small smile, shaking his head.

Nick Hanson: These three are colossal assholes!

Jim Reynolds: Oh, come on, Nicky! They’re just making a joke!

Nick Hanson: Yeah?! Well, Damon Cross doesn’t look amused!

Jim Reynolds: The hell is he gonna do about it, then?!

Shrugging, Cross lifts the microphone again.

Damon Cross: I guess seeing Yukiko Kusanagi get beaten, bloodied, destroyed and choked to near-unconsciousness by a debased God wasn’t enough of a red flag, John, was it? But then, you and your boys? Not that bright. We’re talking about a pack of pseudo-Cockney London wankers who never got the discipline they should’ve because daddy was too drunk and momma was spreading her legs on the street corner, so…

Ire is drawn for all three men in the ring and Damon, making an expression of mock fear, then turns and gestures in a very derogatory way toward the lot of them: two fingers up, knuckles facing out.

Damon Cross: ...jog on, fuckers!

Johnny Towers: FUCK OFF, CROSS! BRING YOUR ASS TO THIS RING RIGHT GODDAMN NOW!

Damon Cross: Right now? Suits me. Let’s settle this.

Damon unbuttons his jacket and sheds it, then unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them up… before pausing inexplicably and bringing up the microphone again, chuckling.

Damon Cross: And as for the stooping to your level comment, John, that isn’t what this is at all. It’s called fighting fire with fire. And you’re about to fucking burn!

From out of the crowd there comes yells and cheers of surprise and wonder as two Hispanic-looking men in jeans and black tanks vault the railing and slide into the ring! They make a beeline for Sid and Tyler, bringing down Johnny’s hired help and brawling all the way out of the ring with them!

Jim Reynolds: What the hell is this?! Who’re these two clowns! Where the hell is security?!

Nick Hanson: I got no idea either, but look at the smile on Damon’s face! Clearly he knows who and what they are… and here we go!

As Johnny whips around to see what the hell is going on, Damon charges the ring and slides in under the bottom rope, immediately slugging it out with Towers! The two men throw haymakers for all they’re worth, blasting each other in the jaw with one shot after another! On the outside, the thicker of the two mystery men whips Sid into the steps before spiking him with a DDT! On the other side, the smaller man leaps to the apron and runs at Tyler, driving a flying knee into his face!

Nick Hanson: Whoever they are, they’re good!

In the ring, Damon gets in a few unanswered shots, but Johnny fires back with a blow to the throat! He sets up for FUBAR, but Damon counters out, looking for Weight of the World! Towers escapes this but realizes quickly that he’s surrounded now that the other two men are in the ring along with him and Cross!

Jim Reynolds: How is THIS fair?!

Nick Hanson: Oh, now that’s rich! Fair?! Since when has Johnny ever fought fair?! This is retribution!

At about that point, Sid and Tyler slide into the ring and pull Johnny out before the three men can converge on him! The three hook up outside the ring but they don’t get far! The smaller of the pair runs the ropes, charging at his partner who back body drops him over the ropes and into a somersault senton that wipes out all three men! Sliding back into the ring with Damon and his partner, all three watch with eager, wicked grins while the wiped out trio on the outside try to figure out who or what just landed on them! Damon, picking up the microphone again as a stunning blonde joins them in the ring, leans on the top rope, staring down at Towers, Brown and Robinson from above.

Damon Cross: Get on your fucking feet, John! Because this is JUST getting started! And while you’re at it, say hello to a couple dear friends of mine: Juan and Javier Cortez and their lovely manager, Carmen Viviana Esquivel… but you can call them La Lealtad es Todo! And we’ll see you fuckers in the ring REAL damn soon!

“Rise” starts up again as Damon throws the microphone at Johnny and his boys, stepping back to raise the arms of the Cortez brothers along with their manager!

Jim Reynolds: This is totally uncalled for! Are those three even signed?! Where the hell did they come from?!

Nick Hanson: I guess we’ll find out later on, Jim! But I’d say this war just got a lot more interesting!
The camera switches to backstage in the arena, inside the office of Steven Brody. Panning out from the flat screen on the wall, we’re seeing a recap reel from Ascension III until the CEO comes into frame, watching the video as it plays. Beside him is Destiny General Manager, Imogen Stella-Paige. Steven’s posture relaxes a bit, like he’s letting out a silent sigh of relief. He’s always anxious around the time of big supershows, despite the company’s consistent, successful track record.

Steven Brody: Well…another supershow, gone off without a hitch. Seems it’s safe to say New Frontier’s still going strong after Zion’s Invasion.

He turns from the screen to Imogen.

Steven Brody: Not to mention, Destiny’s quickly taking off and going strong! Excellent work again, dear.

She looked up from the work that she was doing on her tablet for the next episode of Destiny and smiled at him.

Imogen Stella-Paige: Thank you, Love. It has done far better than even I anticipated. I’m rather proud of Destiny and her roster.

She nodded towards the television.

Imogen Stella-Paige: Fantastic job on another successful show, Beloved. Far too many people underestimate us. Perhaps it’s time to prove, once and for all, that NFW is here to stay?

Steven Brody: Indeed. New Frontier is going nowhere. It’ll be here forever. Much like you and I, in fact. Speaking of which…

The CEO turns towards the Destiny GM, though obviously by now, it’s common knowledge the relationship between these two is far more than just business. Steven calmly takes Imogen’s hands into his.

Steven Brody: Feels like since you came back, we’ve picked right up where we left off, hasn’t it?

She shifted her attention from the television back to Steven’s as he took her hand. Hearing him, she nods lightly.

Imogen Stella-Paige: It does. Like… Like we never should’ve left off to begin with.

Steven smiles, nodding in agreement. For a brief moment, he glances at the camera as if considering something. It almost looks as though he’s about to dismiss the cameraman but he apparently decides against it.

Steven Brody: No. No, we shouldn’t have. So, I’d like to go ahead and add to this celebratory moment by asking that we never leave off again.

Steven squeezes her hands, offering another smile before he reaches into the fold of his suit jacket.

Steven Brody: Imogen Stella-Paige. Love of my life and keeper of my soul

To the shock of the crowd watching, Steven retrieves a small velvet box as he goes down to one knee, holding the box up to her and lifting the lid to reveal the priceless diamond ring resting inside.

Steven Brody: Would you do this man the greatest honor by becoming my wife? Will you, Imogen, marry me?

At first she was confused by what he was saying. Then, the moment she watched him shift so that he was kneeling before her holding that deliciously beautiful velvet box before her with the ring nestled inside… It hit her.

Though, it was his question that clouded her vision rather than the ring itself. She snapped her attention back to his when it clicked in her head. Camera, and the man holding it, completely forgotten.

Imogen Stella-Paige: ...I…

She blinks rapidly for a moment. Then nods!

Imogen Stella-Paige: Yes! Yes yes yes, a million times, yes!

There’s a pop from the crowd watching in the arena as Steven removes the ring from the box and gracefully slides it onto her ring finger. He stands, pulling her into a deep embrace before leaning back enough to gaze into her eyes, brushing a thumb down her cheek.

Steven Brody: I love you, Imogen. Here’s to the rest of our lives together.

He starts to inch in before his attention shifts to the camera man with a coy smile.

Steven Brody: If you’ll excuse us, please.

The man behind the camera shifts back and, just as Steven starts to lean in towards his new bride to be, the camera’s perspective does a somewhat comical swing for the door as the scene cuts away, back to Nick and Jim at the commentary table.

Nick Hanson: Well, how about that! Looks like there’s gonna be a big wedding in the future!

Jim Reynolds: Hey, I love weddings!

Nick Hanson: What, exactly, do you love about— You know what? Don’t answer that. We’ll be right back with more action, ladies and gentlemen!

Jim Reynolds: Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You suggesting something nefarious?

Nick Hanson: With you? Always/

Jim Reynolds: Hey, let me tell you something, Nicky. FU–

And the show cuts to a sponsor ad.
Backstage, we find Morgan Payne inside The Kingdom locker room. The McKeesport Mauler’s dressed in her gear, one arm resting in her lap, already taped up while Stephanie Kenyon is in the process of taping up the other. While this is going on, NFW interviewer Josh Davidson comes into frame with a microphone handy. Without even looking at him, Morgan points towards the door.

Morgan Payne: I’on wanna talk t’you, jagoff. Go get Amanda an’ get da fuck outta my sight.

Josh’s smile never even fades from his face. It just goes from hopefully to uneasy as he comically pivots on one foot and leaves the frame. There’s a moment of silence before the door opens again and we hear a familiar woman’s voice.

Amanda Thorn: --Yeah, well I told you! You didn’t wanna listen!

A moment later, Amanda comes into frame, looking less desperate than Josh did. She’s more confident in her own presence here.

Amanda Thorn: Hello, Morgan Payne. Got a moment for an interview?

Morgan pauses in the process of bringing an unlit cigarette to her lips as she looks the tattooed woman over before motioning to the spot on the bench beside her.

Morgan Payne: Sit dahn, take a load off, chick. ‘Chu up to?

Amanda sits down as Morgan’s eyes sweep over her. Scanning her over for a second. There’s a smirk on Morgan’s face that has Amanda suddenly looking a bit…put off. Morgan suddenly nudges her with an arm and proceeds to light the cigarette she has.

Morgan Payne: Fuckin’ whi’chu, girl. Sup?

Amanda settles into her seat, looking relaxed more as she begins.

Amanda Thorn: Well, for starters, let’s talk about how you’re feeling after last week’s big show, Ascension. You were…

Morgan Payne: Ya can say it, Amanda. I ain’t fuckin’ beat Cass Baumer. Ahnno I didn’t. What, am I ‘sposed to sulk and suck my thumb n’at? Like I said: if I was to beat her, what da fuck is dat gonna do for me? Not a goddamn thing. She ain’t done shit in this company, except whine, bitch an’ complain abaht gettin recognition on a silver platter. Oh! Hey, yinz should give my match a fancy picture and headline too on da Twitters! Yeah, I remember dat. Get da fuck outta heah. Cass beat me. Congratu-fuckin-lations. You beatin’ me does more for your sorry ass than me beatin’ you does for me. Yanno why I ain’t sweatin’? ‘Cuz if it weren’t for gahdamn Arianrhod, I’d have had yer ass whupped like a two dolla trick on Bunker Hill Road! So lap it up, gloat about it. Keep whinin’ t’people abaht how ya hope you an’ me can squash an’ be friends again. Dat bridge is burned and ain’t ever gettin’ rebuilt. Mark me, bitch. And Danni?

Morgan pauses to suck on her cigarette for a second before raising a hand to stress a point.

Morgan Payne: Baby girl, I love you. I do. But if you’s ever hopin’ for some tea party ‘tween you, me an’ Cass. Da only way I’m sittin’ dahn to dat is if Baumer’s da one fillin’ my cup and servin’ da’ gahdamn scones. You my ride or die. Cass Baumer? She can just straight do da latter.

Amanda Thorn: Let’s talk about the other matter involving that match. Arianrhod. Your wife, Lilith Meadows.

Morgan Payne: Mm-mm.

Morgan cuts her off, shaking her head in the middle of another drag.

Morgan Payne: Dat ain’t Lily. Looks like Lily. Sahnds like Lily. Dat ain’t Lily. Noiw, don’t gemme wrong. Lily may be inside there. Dat much is true. Arianrhod. Dat’s an entirely different side o’her dat, to be honest, had no gahdamn business pokin’ her fuckin’ head up. We dealt wif her before. I dealt wif her before an’ da fact dat we gotta do dis song an’ dance again? It pisses me da fuck off worse than listenin’ to Cass Baumer on her soap box. ‘Cept, see da last time? We put our trust into someone for help. Nah, lemme fix dat. Jasmine put her trust into someone for help. She asked da rest of us to trust her. We did. And for a time, da matter seemed like it worked aht. Until what happened? Da same fuckin’ bitch who “helped” Lily last time, had a hand in da situation dat brought Arianrhod out dis time! Goes t’show how much ya really helped her, huh? Cuz da problem only got buried! Now it’s dug up! So I’mma say dis much…

Right on cue, Stephanie finishes taping Morgan’s other hand and the Daughter of Steel City shoots up out of her seat, prompting Amanda Thorn to do the same to keep the microphone near her.

Morgan Payne: Dis time? Da Kingdom’s gonna handle their own business. We’re gonna fix what you - yeah, I mean you Asmodeus - couldn’t fuckin’ get done. Or maybe it’s da fact dat you just wouldn’t. Demon o’ Temptation. Sneaky, conniving, fuckin’ nutjob dat you are. And as for Arianrhod? You’s all but callin’ me aht directly as your next target. Trust me. I ain’t da fuckin’ one. Ya think you’s gonna run through alla us? You’s abaht t’hit a gahdamn steel wall goin’ 100 miles an hour.

She pauses a moment to look down at the “I Prevail” cut off tee she’s wearing under her hoodie vest. Morgan looks up at the camera again, points to the band logo and shrugs.

Morgan Payne: If ya want it? Come get it. Yanno where I’ll be.

She reaches back and tugs her hood up over her head. Morgan steals a quick kiss from Stephanie before storming out of the room, leaving Amanda Thorn a little perplexed.

Amanda Thorn: Well, we know where she’ll be in just a few moments, don’t we? Morgan Payne and Sylvia Lopez are squaring up next! Back to you, Nick and Jim!
When cameras find them backstage, Damon Cross and the group known as La Lealtad es Todo are chatting rather animatedly, at least in the case of the latter three. Damon, it appears, is indulging the trio and enjoying their enthusiasm. Presently, however, they find themselves joined by NFW Interviewer and the Dancing Violinist, Ami Kennedy. She’s dressed rather nicely for the job, though some may say she’s a little more dolled up today.

Ami Kennedy: Ah! Hello, bonjour, h-hola.

She greets them in three different languages, though she’s far from fluent in Spanish. Even though she looks ready to pose some questions, in a way, she’s looking a little… flighty? Still, she politely bows her head and smiles.

Ami Kennedy: I… suppose the first question I should be asking is… Monsieur Debaillion, are your friends officially signing with New Frontier Wrestling?

Damon Cross: Signed, Miss Kennedy. You’re looking at the newest tag team in NFW. You’re going to be seeing a lot of these young men and this young lady, and I suggest that you all watch closely! Because talent like this doesn’t come around often!

Clearly, Damon is quite proud of these three. From the looks of them, Juan and Javier are twins, though the latter is a bit bulkier than the former. Between them, Carmen stands with her arm around Javier’s waist and a satisfied, almost smug, smile on her face.

Damon Cross: But this moment isn’t for me… it’s for them. Ask them anything.

A sweet smile crosses Ami’s face. She can see and hear Damon’s pride. In kind fashion, the English-Frenchwoman politely bows towards the trio.


Ami Kennedy: If you would kindly introduce yourselves to everyone? Tell us about yourselves, how you know each other, and… what brought you into the wrestling industry.

It’s becoming a little more noticeable, but there’s a cute little bounce in Ami’s movements. A little rocking on her heels, a little blush whenever she fidgetly (absently?) plays with the strap of her purse… Perhaps she’s daydreaming? Damon, meanwhile, stands back as the larger of the two men, Javier Cortez, speaks up first.

Javier Cortez: You can call me Javier Cortez. And this wild-eyed gentleman standing over here is my brother, Juan. And as to the lovely lady between us, you can call her-

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: -Carmen Viviana Esquivel… fighter, manager, lover and one of the most complete women on the planet!

She speaks with confidence, making Javier grin and Juan smirk, jerking a thumb in their direction.

Juan Cortez: Best get used to that around here. These two ain’t shy about tellin’ the world who and what they are. Especially my soon-to-be sister-in-law!

Javier Cortez: Like you ain’t one to sing your own praises if you get half a mind!

All three laugh this off, clearly still in high spirits. Damon, on the other hand, keeps quiet… but there’s no masking his own satisfaction. These three, to the Redeemer, are special. The reason why, though, has not been elaborated on.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: Since I’m the verbose one, allow me to paint you a picture, Ami. These two young men started out in Florida for the Panhandle Wrestling Alliance as the South Miami Hit Squad. The tale is long in the telling, but against the best that Florida and the southern United States, as well as a few close island neighbors, could offer? They proved themselves to be one of the most talented, excited and sought-after teams in the business. It was only a matter of time before these two-time, once-in-a-lifetime tandems came to the big stage… and thanks to a kind word and their talent, here they are.

Juan Cortez: Not to mention a fat load of inspiration-

Javier Cortez: -and some well-timed motivation.

All three glance Damon’s way, the Redeemer putting on an amused grin but remaining quiet. Honestly, the man looks like a proud father right now. Even with the absent fidgeting, Ami is still attentive and she smiles at them. Her right hand finally moves from her purse strap and she folds both of her hands in front of her.

Ami Kennedy: It sounds like there’s a lot of rich history between the three of you. Um…

She tilts her head towards Damon for a moment.

Ami Kennedy: How did you… say it? La Leal…tad es… Todo?

Her clear lack of knowledge in the Spanish language is showing.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: With me, chica: La Lealtad… es… Todo…

A light red color surfaces on her cheeks, either out of shyness or embarrassment, and she nods, giving it another go.

Ami Kennedy: La… Leal… tad.. es Todo!

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: Very good. Say it over and over a few times… you’ll get it.

Ami Kennedy: Merci. I’ll, ah, ask Uncle Nate and Aunt Rylee to help me practice Spanish.

An honest-to-goodness smile crosses her face.

Ami Kennedy: All of you made a really big first impression by ambushing Johnny Towers, Sid, and Tyler. However, I imagine there’s more planned than just evening the odds. Maybe a pursuit of the Tag-Team Championships?

Juan Cortez: Oh, if there’s gold to be had, we’re gonna lay our hands on it sooner rather than later! We’re not here for giggles, Ami! We’re here to take on the best to prove that we’re the best and that means becoming champs!

Javier Cortez: We’ll out-work, out-fight and straight up out-do anyone, Ami. Hard work is what we know. Been that way since we were six and it ain’t changing any time soon. We worked to move to the states, we worked to see our first wrestling show, we worked to graduate high school and college and get our degrees and we worked to become one of the most exciting teams on God’s green earth!

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: And just because their hard work has paid off with a contract doesn’t mean it’s over. It’s only gonna get harder. But no one knows these two better than me. When I say that that gold is gonna be around their waist? You can etch that in stone. They are going to be champions around here. If you doubt that, go on and get in the ring with them. They’ll make you believe.

The brothers knock fists at that while Carmen stands looking proud of them, same as Damon. Ami is certainly impressed by La Lealtad es Todo. She can easily sense their high energy and determination. There’s a special connection between them and the Redeemer as well.

Ami Kennedy: New things are on the horizon. With the subject on the tag titles, at Ascension III, we witnessed a new crowning. Though some may believe how they defeated Gallus Mag was nefarious, Salacious Intent are the new NFW Tag-Team Champions. Sela-Rica Lark and Abigail Lindsay have proven themselves time and time again to be intense, violent, and down-right dangerous. As the newest tag team…

There’s a brief pause and a thoughtful look in the Dancing Violinist’s eyes.

Ami Kennedy: ...what kind of message does La Lealtad es Todo like to send to the ladies?

She’s getting the hang of it! Carmen starts to say something, but instead grins and hands it off to Javier and Juan, the former stepping up first. Their eyes are focused on the camera.

Javier Cortez: Good on you, ladies, and we mean that. We’re no strangers to the at-all-costs mentality that you used to win those belts.

Juan Cortez: What my brother’s sayin’ is that we’ve fought our share of bloody battles and taken our liberties to get ahead. Being young and inexperienced can cause that.

Javier Cortez: But y’all are neither, so what’s your excuse for pulling that crap when you got enough talent that ya don’t need it?

Juan Cortez: At least it means we know what you’re about, which means you better have a new plan when ya come up against us.

Javier Cortez: Won’t be no playin’ or screamin’, ladies… just an every-angle unstoppable assault from us to you before we take that gold.

Juan Cortez: It’s inevitable. Like death, taxes and gravity.

There’s definitely no arguing that last point. Ami nods enthusiastically.

Ami Kennedy: The tag-team division needs to be prepared. Well, then, I do have one last question…

She slowly turns towards the Leader of the Crusade and nods.

Ami Kennedy: ...and it’s for you, Monsieur Debaillion. To review Ascension III once more, the world saw you return with a vengeance and you powerbombed Monsieur Townsend through a flaming table. Now that you have friends, reinforcements, to help even the battlefield, are you going to settle the score with Towers once and for all?

His expression gets serious in a hurry, as does that of the Cortez brothers and Carmen. They look to Damon and nod, and the Redeemer himself nods back before turning to Ami.

Damon Cross: John brought this on himself, the moment he came in here saying my name.

A faint smirk, since that IS his catchphrase, but he’s serious again within moments.

Damon Cross: His ledger is drenched in red. And after my friends here help me take out Sid and Tyler? John will be drenched in red, too.

Leaving it at that, Damon heads off with La Lealtad es Todo in tow. Ami’s eyes widen. The threat upon Johnny Towers resonates loud and clear.

Ami Kennedy: I… almost feel sorry for him.

There’s a soft vibration coming from the side compartment of her purse. Reaching in, she then checks her smartphone and a sweet blush rises to her cheeks. She giggles softly and moves away from the camera -- with a skip in her step! -- before the perspective changes.
Collision cuts backstage to NFW Perseverance Champion Hayley Halsey who is standing by with the championship she recently retained still slung over her shoulder much to the ire, shock and anger of the audience in Chicago. The boos are louder than ever when they are in her direction. Hayley has a bit of a laugh to herself, although these laughs don’t last for long. She has some anger in her eyes as she begins to express her thoughts.

Hayley Halsey: THIS is not only the sight that you didn’t WANT to see, but this is the sight that you didn’t THINK you would see. I went to Ascension as the UNDERDOG OF ALL UNDERDOGS! I was a champion that was headed for the gallows! I was a champion that was about to be stripped and fucked in the ass by the CONSPIRACY that was trying SO HARD to screw her over. They sent their disciple at me! They sent their fabled son to strip me and to fuck me. It seemed like a foregone conclusion that I was about to lose my title especially when you had HATERS and SUPPRESSIVE PEOPLE involved standing by at ringside like they were vultures circling the air. Ascension was supposed to be DOOMSDAY! I am not supposed to be here with the title and yet… a MIRACLE HAPPENED! THe GREATNESS OF HAYLEY found a way to SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY SHOCK THE WORLD AGAIN JUST LIKE SHE DID AT WRESTLEWAR AND IT WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SILENCE I HAVE EVER HEARD!!!!!!

Hayley openly laughs while the crowd boos her quite loudly. There are a mix of “fuck you” and “shut the fuck up” chants much to Hayley’s amusement as she continues her thoughts.

Hayley Halsey: THE CONSPIRACY FAILED and I am STILL the NFW Perseverance Champion against ALL ODDS in what IDIOT JACKASS WRESTLING FANS across America are calling the ‘greatest upset in NFW history’. Fuck you and your ‘upset’ talk, BITCHES! I AM pure greatness. So yeah, I got my belt stolen and I went through a table and yet, I’M. STILL. HERE! This fight is NOT over! The conspiracy is coming back and trying to fuck me even HARDER. I mean seriously… they put ME in a match against two people that want to maim and kill me as an attempt on my life? And to make matters worse, they make ME team up with ASS BOOMER? Who openly hates me? How do I know this isn’t going to be some glorified handicap match, huh? How do I know if Ass Boomer doesn’t work for the FBI or if NFW specifically sent her to FUCK ME HARD? HUH? The conspiracy didn’t go away just because I managed to retain AGAINST ALL ODDS…

Oh no…

They are coming for me even harder…

OH GOD, THAT SOUNDED SEXUAL! WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!

The bottom line is this… Christina… Jansen… yeah you can both go ahead and think that I’m an easy fucking and everything, but you are not coming out of this on top. You are NOT about to make a fool out of me. If you think you’re walking in here acting as of this match is made before the bell even rings, you are setting yourselves up for MASSIVE DISAPPOINTMENT. Don’t believe me? Well, let’s just say that being overlooked and underestimated is exactly why I am STILL the NFW Perseverance Champion!

Now as for you, ASS BOOMER or whatever the FUCK your name is… you have every motivation and every reason to fuck me over and make this a three on one handicap match. Heed this warning. I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, and there’s nothing that I can put past you at this point. You have it in for me and you want nothing more than for me to fail because you’re a jealous little bitch ass fuck face who can’t stand other people being better than her. Stay mad, bitch. You’re NEVER stripping me and you’re NEVER having this title. You’re fighting a war that you have no chance of winning here and when it’s all said and done and you’re at the back of the line where you belong, the CONSPIRACY WILL SURRENDER and they WILL respect and recognize my GREATNESS… so FUCK YOU!

Hayley flips off the camera and bolts from the scene before the shot fades to black.
Josh Davidson stands in front of the Collision logo.

Josh Davidson: There’s a big tag team match in our main event tonight. Joining me now is one of the participants…

However, Jansen walks right by and disappears off screen.

Josh Davidson: Or maybe we won’t hear from Jansen Myrrh right now.




The fans come to life as the opening dialogue from "Triumph of the King Freak" by Rob Zombie blares across the arena and Jansen Myrrh's graphic appears on the tron.


Jansen Myrrh's name comes across the screen as her music continues to play. Jansen Myrrh finally steps out of the shadows. She pauses to look around at the fans who are packed into the Colliseum before marching with a purpose down the aisle towards the ring. She snatches a microphone from the announce desk and rolls into the ring as her music fades.

Jansen Myrrh: Mother fucking Chicago!

The crowd pops.

Jansen Myrrh: Ain’t trying to diss Joshie back there, but for me to say what I gotta say, I gotta do it in the ring and that motherfucker isn’t in the ring. You see when you’re going to challenge a badass to a fucking battle, you don’t do it behind closed doors. You do it on the fucking battlefield. This fucking battlefield.

Crowd: “Fight, fucker, fight!”

Jansen Myrrh: You see it’s been almost one thousand days since I last held championship gold. What do you don’t know is that there’s a time clock on my wrestling career. You see, I figured I’d spend twenty years or more in the fucking career, but sometimes life has other plans for you. This puts a time crunch on my dream. I got dreams, just like you got dreams. Ever since I was a girl, watching my uncle Dandy…

The crowd pops for Dandy Myrrh.

Jansen Myrrh: Fucking straight. Growing up as a girl, watching my uncle Dandy in the ring, I knew I would end up here eventually. I didn’t give a fuck about cheerleading or volleyball. I didn’t watch fucking football or basketball. I didn’t give a shit about anything growing up except for professional wrestling. Against my parents’ wishes, I went to wrestling school right after I graduated high school. Trained under the great Biff Franklin and the next thing you know, I’m in the goddamned ring. I’m losing a lot, but I’m learning too. I won my first championship in Rose City Wrestling. I won the Throwdown Championship in Mile High Wrestling. I ain’t never won a world’s championship.

Crowd: “Tren! Tren! Tren!”

Jansen Myrrh: Stop jumping ahead of my script, goddammit!

The crowd pops.

Jansen Myrrh: Since I’m running out of fucking time in this business, I ain’t got much choice but to try and insert myself into the fucking championship picture. And here’s where I go off script. The big man. The painmaker. The fucking beast. Tren Descarrillado. You got it. I need it. I need to win it before I have to put these boots back in my locker for the final time. I don’t respect a lot of people in this sport because they haven’t fucking earned it, but I respect you, big guy. You know I’m gonna give you the fucking fight of your life. I ain’t gotta try and be a dick like Towers and cheat my way to the top. I don’t want it that way. I want to know whether I got it, or I don’t. Either I’m gonna win it, or I ain’t. If I don’t, then I walk away knowing I did the best I fucking could. But if I win, then I have achieved my life long dream. I either win it or I burn myself to the ground trying. Whaddya say, Chicago? You wanna see the World’s Champ and This Bitch tear this fucking place down or what?

Crowd: Fight! Fight! Fight!

Jansen Myrrh: That’s what I thought. I guess the ball is in your court now, champ. We doing it or what? Let’s get this tag match going then. I got shit to do.

Jansen throws her mic out of the ring and walks to her corner.