NFW Collision #143 - 08/16/2022!

The view crossfades to an office door marked for Steven Brody. As the view zooms out, it reveals Haruka Fukuhara leaning on the frame with her arms crossed, as if lost in thought looking at the name across the door. With a sharp inhale, Fukuhara unfolds her arms and knocks on the door.

Haruka Fukuhara: Sir?

Steven Brody: Yes, Ms. Fukuhara? Come on in.

Inside his office, Steven Brody is sitting at his desk, hands folded on top as he watches The Ice Emperor enter.

Steven Brody: What can I do for you?

Without a word, Fukuhara sits in the chair opposite Brody, her face not moving once. Once she's down, there's a few seconds of dead air and awkward silence before she pipes up.

Haruka Fukuhara: You know why I’m here, so I’ll just ask: what am I to you?

Steven raises an eyebrow as Haruka begins her piece. He relaxes back in his seat, tilting his head some.

Steven Brody: I don’t follow, exactly, Ms. Fukuhara. Is there a problem?

Haruka's icy stare continues unwavered before she speaks on.

Haruka Fukuhara: You've seen my path since this time last year, correct? Given everything I've done within that window, good and bad... there's been a disconnect for about that long between what I currently am and what I feel I should be. It's left a lot of doubt, lost a lot of potential, and kept me stuck in a rut in all but one company I work for. So what am I to you, my original boss?

Steven nods solemnly and sits up in his seat again.

Steven Brody: I see your point, Ms. Fukuhara. Try to understand, I see potential and promise in every individual that we sign to this company. You were signed to your competitive contract for the same reason. What are you to me? You are a budding superstar with untapped potential. It just seems to me... that you need to look inside yourself and find that missing link. Now, last week was not the best night for you, but you performed well. I’d say you’re well on your way to finding it. You just need to keep with the self searching.

The silence from the Ice Emperor is seemingly palpable... until she chuckles just a little.

Haruka Fukuhara: Then we must both want the same thing, because it sounds to me like you know where I belong.

Steven hears the chuckle and smirks with a small nod, tapping his index fingertips together.

Steven Brody: I know where you could potentially be. The only thing left? Prove to me that my faith isn’t being misplaced. Show me how bad you want whatever it is you’re striving for. Prove you deserve it.

The Ice Emperor simply nods before getting to her feet...

Haruka Fukuhara: Then thank you for your time.

...and leaving the office. The view fades elsewhere.
The camera opens upon “Psycho” Sairse Maguire standing with her sister and manager, Aoife “Banshee” Maguire in a hallway backstage.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: So aye, we bae maetin’ anutter one from Dublin taenight in Darcy Graves. Anutter one whot likes tae kick as well.

Banshee nods to her sister and Psycho shrugs.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: I know, I know, Shonn always bae tellin’ me…

Banshee nods back even more pointedly. Psycho looks away for a second.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: Aye…

Looking back to the camera,

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: Darcy, there nay bae any daemons haer, Darcy. None o’ tha at all! Hell bae empty…

Banshee grins.

Aoife “Banshee” Maguire: Aye, an’ th’ Maidens bae haer!
We fade in to backstage, with Kai Morgan making his way down the corridors of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Coliseum. He looks over to his left, seeing Crystal Zdunich, Flint Devitt, and Brett Irwin standing and conversing. The two sides share a glance with one another, before Kai moves on. He makes it to gorilla position, being handed a microphone, with I Prevails “Heart vs Mind” playing shortly after. Kai makes his way out onto the stage to the applause of the fans, quickly making his way to the ring. The music fades, with Kai beginning to speak.

Kai Morgan: A lot has been said about my arrival here on Collision last week. “Why are you back? What do you want with Johnny Towers? How do you plan on addressing the elephant in the room that is your last appearance on the other show?” The fun questions definitely. I’ll get to em. But first, I just wanna talk candidly with all of you.

A pause, before Kai continues to speak.

Kai Morgan: See when I stepped out here last week and even tonight, you all were cheering me. But if I’m being completely honest, I haven’t done a whole lot to earn that applause, as much as I love it. Hell, if I had my way earlier this year, we wouldn’t even be here doing this.

Kai thinks, getting a little choked up before he continues.

Kai Morgan: I spent the last year or so of my life doing the one thing that I was always told to never do, and that’s let anger win. For too long, I’ve been letting anger guide everything I do. I let it eat away at me like a disease. I realized I couldn’t let it rule my life anymore.

Another pause before Kai continues.

Kai Morgan: And that ties into that last question I posed to you all a little bit ago. See I was at home, thinking about what Jessi Ozborne did to me at Sudden Death. Thinking about what I could do to get even. It would be so easy to go back to the Coliseum on a Saturday night and beat her up and down this building. But what would it do? What would it achieve?

The crowd cheers at Kai’s honesty before he continues

Kai Morgan: So I made a promise to myself to not let anger win again…after next Tuesday…which leads to why I’m here.

Kai’s demeanor gets a lot more serious as he carries on.

Kai Morgan: See I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t forgotten that molotov incident from Zion back in February. I haven’t forgotten the way you nearly burned my friend, Razzles Mars, alive. So I decided to use that anger, one last time, to tear your ass apart.

The crowd cheers on Kai’s proclamation.

Kai Morgan: Now—

Before he can finish the sentence the lights go out and a voice is heard over the sound system.


The lights go back on as “Chaos is your life” By The Exploited blasts out the speakers as Johnny Towers walks out onto the stage and signals for his music to be cut as Kai is seen pacing back and forth in the ring, obviously seething.

Johnny Towers: Blah, blah blah do you ever shut the fuck up ya cunt, seriously nobody fucking cares about you. Seriously I almost didnt come out here because i was so fucking bored i fell asleep at your bullshit.

As he is talking Towers is slowly walking down the ramp towards the ring.

Johnny Towers: You know what I am fucking glad it was you who stepped up, since invasion I always knew you where the cowardly type of asshole who will hide behind anyone to get your own fucking way and what did you go and do but prove me right. Not just with your lot from Zion but then you went and hung out with some meth heads calling themselves a circus and now you got the foundation whatever the fuck that is honestly I couldnt care less, but lets cut the shit just like how you got cut out of twitter.

He pauses for a moment hearing the crowd booing him.

Johnny Towers: Oh shut the fuck up all of you, now then our match lets make it interesting shall we bitch, There is an old match that used to be done in these sorts of situations that will do us just fine, A glass coffin match mother fucker, no ropes they are replaced with two barbed wire nets and a big box outside the ring filled with C4 explosives, first person to be thrown through the glass lid of that box loses simple as that. So are you ready for this bitch or do you have to get your balls out of your thots handbag?

Just Laughing, Johnny Towers turns his back on Kai in the ring and starts to walk back up the ramp for a moment before turning back around.

Johnny Towers: Oh one more thing ya fucking chav.

Just then, Sid Robinson, Tyler Brown, and Kim Hindley rush into the ring behind Kai, knocking him to the mat and stomping him out. The three look primed to finish him off, until Morgan Payne rushes to the ring, a steel chair in hand! She clocks Hindley over the head with the chair before sending Robinson and Brown scrambling under the bottom rope and out of the ring. She helps Kai to his feet with the two giving each other a look of approval before shouting down to the Townsend Firm.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “Hey hey hey! Stop it!”

Some fans cheer…others laugh, as the little blonde General Manager comes storming out onto the stage trying to look as furious as she can but when you’re barely over five feet and little more than a buck twenty soaking wet, how fierce can you look?

Nick Hanson: “Here comes boss lady!”

James Reynolds: “I can’t decide if I should hide or boost her up so everyone can see her.”

Nick Hanson: “Would you knock it off?”

Jessica grips the mic, not looking very ferocious at all but she does look serious.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “Y’all two! Not y’all two! Y’all!”

Her hand fidgets as she points, first to Sid Robinson and Kim Hindley, then to Johnny Towers and Tyler Brown, then back to Sid and Kim.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “I’ve had it up to here with y’all buttin’ in, stickin’ y’alls noses into things!”

She holds her hand right up to the brim of her forehead. James Reynolds can be heard breaking into a snicker. We hear a dull smack as Nick Hanson swats him.

James Reynolds: “Ow! Fucker!”

Jessica continues, starting to point at the two again before looking at her hand and, as if realizing it’s a rude gesture, she drops her arm.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “I got a lotta stuff and things to get done tonight and quite frankly, I don’t need the stress of y’all runnin’ around here like a buncha doggone animals! So right to the point. Y’all go on to the back, maybe borrow some pads from y’alls friend Mr. Towers here. Mr. Morgan? Ms. Payne? How’s y’all this evenin’? You got your ring gear handy?”

Kai Morgan and Morgan Payne take a second to ponder what’s going on before looking to each other, then up at Jessica and nodding. Jessica nods back.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “Well good, because tonight, I’m adding a match to the card. Matter of fact? Sweet baby Jesus, I’m gonna go right ahead and change up tonight’s main event. Give y’all time to get situated. It’s gonna be you two. No, not y’all two. Y’all two!”

Again, she points from Sid and Kim, to Johnny and Tyler, back to Sid and Kim. She pauses for a second and points to Johnny and Tyler again.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “Matter of fact, y’all two stay away from ringside! Ya hear? Now where was I? Oh yeah! Sid and Kim…versus Kai Morgan and Morgan Payne. Tag team match main event!”

The fans pop but the gears are still turning in Jessica’s head as she looks up and taps her chin before looking back down at the ring.

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “No Disqualification!”

Nick Hanson: “WHOA!”

James Reynolds: “Holy shit, the little girl has some fire!”

Nick Hanson: “May as well be a tag team street fight!”

Jessica Clarkson-Morian: “Now then, y’all go get ready. The rest of y’all have a nice evening!”

Jessica nods, proud of herself and starts towards the back again but not without almost tripping and stumbling in her high heels which she’s not quite used to wearing. This sends James Reynolds into a fit of laughter.
The scene cuts to the view from a camera backstage in the corridor outside the locker room of the Coliseum. The cameraman is about to take a break from trying to capture random candid backstage moments when he hears a voice making joyful noises, but not really saying anything. He turns the camera in the direction of the voice, but doesn't see anyone at first. Suddenly, Lorna shoots up into frame, but extremely close up!

Lorna: BOO!

This catches the cameraman off guard causing him to almost fall over from the jump scare! His girl-ish scream makes Lorna's giggle change over into a full laugh as she takes a few steps back in the direction of the locker room door. As the camera auto-focuses on her, she speaks.

Lorna: NFW Management has made my friend upset. You think you've seen her furious, well, you haven't seen anything yet! One of her opponents is one she doesn't want to fight. I hate to be the ones in the way of Sylvia tonight! Then her team is made of those she doesn't even trust? The very sound of the match setup isn't even just. Wait with me! Wait and see! A victim with an unlucky clover! Wait with me! Watch and see! Her anger boiling over!

Suddenly the locker room door bursts open as Ehan Cement stumbles out of the room followed by a seething Sylvia Lopez! The Bellevue Banshee grabs Cement’s head and bounces it off a production crate while Lorna watches on, giggling in between tucking into some fries as she watches the carnage unfolding before her eyes.

Nick Hanson: Sylvia Lopez has snapped!

Jim Reynolds: Pretty sure she snapped years ago, Nicky.

Yui Watanabe then proceeds to exit the locker room and marches towards Lopez with the aim of stopping the crazed woman’s rampage. Watanabe takes a swing at the Bellevue Banshee, however the shot is ducked and the young Japanese woman is rocked with a vicious headbutt. Lopez then proceeds to grab Watanabe’s right hand and grabbing her fingers, she snaps them! But she isn’t done, as she then grabs Watanabe’s left hand and does the same thing to those fingers too!

Nick Hanson: We need to get someone back there, Jim! Lopez is beating the Hell out of these talents while that new friend of hers Lorna is just… watching!

Jim Reynolds: Are you gonna try and stop The Lunatic Parade? No? Thought so.

The Bellevue Banshee then sends Watanabe crashing into a ladder that was propped up against the wall as Lorna lets out a small shriek of excitement as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, still enjoying her fries. However that’s short lived as Eduardo Gutiérrez barges past Lorna, knocking the fries out of her hand and they go all over the floor!

Nick Hanson: Uh oh...

Jim Reynolds: Yup.

As Gutiérrez makes a beeline for Lopez, all of a sudden he feels a tap on his shoulder and when he turns around, he finds himself face to face with Lorna and he freaks out before then being grabbed from behind by the Bellevue Banshee who locks him in The Lopez Lock, choking the life out of him!

Nick Hanson: Two things you never do around The Lunatic Parade. Never use the C word around Lopez… and never take away Lorna’s fries.

Jim Reynolds: A Hell of a debut for this kid. Getting choked out by our resident Bellevue Banshee.

Gutiérrez’s face begins to turn blue when the huge lumbering frame of Mr. Shakedown arrives on the scene and Lopez notices this happening and is basically daring him to try and stop her from choking out the young upstart. When Mr. Shakedown is mere inches away from the Bellevue Banshee, Lorna delivers a swift kick to the back of the giant’s leg, dropping him down to one knee!

Nick Hanson: And now Lorna’s getting involved?!

Jim Reynolds: I mean, what else is she gonna do now that her fries are all over the floor?

Lopez finally releases her hold on Gutiérrez and while Mr. Shakedown is still down on one knee, the Bellevue Banshee charges towards him and delivers a dropkick to his side which sends him head first into the wall! Lopez then grabs his head and proceeds to repeatedly slam the side of his head against the wall, busting the over seven footer open!

Nick Hanson: Good God Almighty! What the Hell is wrong with Lopez?!

Jim Reynolds: I think the better question is, what is right with her.

Lopez then allows the unconscious frame of Mr. Shakedown slide out of her hands and slump to the floor as Lorna shuffles closer to her and looks around at the lifeless bodies surrounding her still seething tag team partner and friend.

Nick Hanson: We seriously need to get some help back there, Jim.

Jim Reynolds: I agree.

Lorna begins to giggle uncontrollably as Lopez with her blood covered hands and heaving chest slowly lifts her head to look at the camera and then suddenly lunges at the cameraman with a shriek as we cut elsewhere.
When Collision returns from commercial break, the arena is simmering, awaiting the start of the next match. However, as the fans’ rumbling grows more intent and the Collision logo continues to play on repeat across the big screen above the stage, the lights dim. Not the cliche lights-out, surprise-appearance type of darkening, but a slow, methodical, deliberate sinking into blackness. Only the repeating logo offers light, but soon that, too, gives way to the darkness. Upon the screen there is silent static before the scene of the sky above the clouds, minutes before dawn, is shown.

Jim Reynolds: Seriously? What the hell is this, Nick? Did the new boss forget to pay the light bill?!

Nick Hanson: How long you been waiting to use that line, Jimmy?

Jim Reynolds: Long enough!

Several moments later, amidst the sound of wind and soft, ever-so-faint vocal chorus, a voice speaks out. It is quiet and calm, the echoes making it hard to place at first.

?: Nietzsche says that humans, more specifically higher human beings, must free themselves from their false consciousness about morality. “Is man merely a mistake of God’s,” says he, “or is God a mistake of man?”

Nick Hanson: ...okay?

Jim Reynolds: Joy. A sermon.

The fans seem taken aback, too. There is little time for them to voice it however, as the speaker starts up again on a different subject.

?: He also says the following, something you good people are likely more familiar with given its use in entertainment media so frequently: “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

More murmuring, but notes of acceptance. Still, the good NFW fans are percolating harder now. They aren’t here for a history lesson or a psychology seminar; they’re here for action!

Spotlights are starting to sweep the arena, but it isn’t until someone spots motion atop the screen and the lights shift in that direction that we spot Damon Cross standing atop the construct! Full black suit, hair tied back at the base of his neck and a decidedly serene look on his face, the Redeemer looks out over the Collision Center, cane in one hand, microphone in the other.

Nick Hanson: The Redeemer! But what the hell is he doing up there?!

Jim Reynolds: Maybe he’ll fa-

Nick Hanson: Don’t you say it!

Jim Reynolds: Whaaaat?!

A bit of a cheer goes up, but not as much as Damon usually gets. He does not seem perturbed, though.

Damon Cross: I have been a god and a monster. I have done more ill than good in my time as a wrestler. You all know this. You’ve been privy to it. I have shortened careers, willfully handed out injuries, hurt people emotionally and mentally. But, for a time, I had an angel in my corner who helped me move past that. She encouraged me to be better, and would not settle for anything else…

Nick Hanson: I think we know who he’s talking about-

Damon Cross: ...but she’s not here anymore, is she?

Some boos erupt, not at Damon but at the mention of the person in question, no longer part of NFW.

Damon Cross: IS SHE?!

The fans are stunned to silence for a few moments. Damon barely pauses… somehow regaining his calm poise without issue.

Damon Cross: And why is that, hm? Does anyone in the Collision Center know? Because Jessica Clarkson-Morian certainly doesn’t have any answers, which I find suspect considering that Collision is HER show now… if only because Luthor Callaway is off slobbering all over someone’s sloppy seconds.

Jim Reynolds: Shots fired!

Nick Hanson: That was seriously uncalled for! But clearly YOU don’t see it that way!

Jim Reynolds: I’m takin’ it for what it is: that might be Damon signing his own pink slip!

It would be different if Damon were smirking or smiling about his comment. But he’s stone-faced.

Damon Cross: Even High Lord Imperial himself, Steven Brody, has no answers. Hell, he won’t even pick up the phone. Not even for the man who took his company from the horizon to the stratosphere, who made star after star, who gave the fans someone they could rely on… two World Heavyweight Championships, SIX year-end rewards… someone who will be on the FIRST ballot when the Hall of Fame comes calling. And I know you’re watching, Steven… either from the skybox, the truck or your palatial homestead that I’ve paid a few bills for…

Damon points at the camera fiercely.

Damon Cross: Dirty pool, sir.

He almost sounds sad, saying that.

Nick Hanson: I hate to say it, but after this… you might be right. Damon sounds like he’s either ready to walk out the door or like a man who knows his time is running out.

Jim Reynolds: Well, if you’re gonna go out, don’t forget the salt and the matches!

Taking a knee at the top of the screen, Damon inhales and exhales.

Damon Cross: This goes for Collision, Trauma… all of NFW. All of wrestling. Lord knows the haters all over have already gotten their texts and calls and are tuning in, hoping that my “diatribe” tonight means what they think it means. Unfortunately, you clowns aren’t so lucky.

A dry, humorless laugh.

Damon Cross: Why? Even after pointedly referencing the higher-ups and saying things that should never be heard on television, knowing they could pull the plug on me at any moment, knowing that right now I’m no doubt making myself persona non grata to everyone backstage, including some very dear friends? Why would they let me stay employed, much less keep talking?

Because they know my name.

Rising to his feet, Damon takes another slow breath. The fans boo fairly hard now, though it’s impossible to know exactly where most of their ire is directed.

Damon Cross: Of course. The point. That’s what you all want, right?

It almost irritates him for some reason, but Damon gets to the point nonetheless.

Damon Cross: There are worse things in the world than monsters. More dangerous things than self-styled gods. And NFW is about to learn exactly what that means. Welcome to the Era of Redemption.

With that, he tosses the mic off the screen, letting it drop all the way to the stage, where it lands with harsh static that the truck can’t turn off in time to stop it from fully screeching through the sound system. Damon turns and walks away, out of sight, as the cameras cut back to the commentary as the fans are rumbling something fierce.

Nick Hanson: I don’t like this.

Jim Reynolds: Me either, but he has my attention or once. Let’s see what happens.


Cameras move in short order to the locker room area, specifically the locker room which houses La Lealtad es Todo, where Juan and Javier Cortez, along with their manager, Carmen Viviana Esquivel, are as a unit watching a monitor. The former Queen of Miami has her arms folded as she stares at the screen, her expression calm though her stare is intense. Juan looks quite worried, running his hands through his short hair over and over. Javier, to his credit, seems cool and collected… until he reaches out to shove the monitor off the table, only to be grabbed by his brother before he can do so. The tension in Javier is such that his arms are corded up as though fresh from an intense arm day. He’s ready to throw Juan off bodily but Carmen steps in, her light touch on the shoulders of her fiancee enough to bring him down.

Nick Hanson: Clearly Damon’s speech moments ago has his friends in various states of concern.

Jim Reynolds: They claim to have known the guy since his ACW days. They ought to have known that he could snap at any moment. I think they’re more worried that their meal ticket is about to be in a soup line.

Nick Hanson: You shoved your sensitivity in front of an 18-wheeler when no one was looking, didn’t you?

Javier’s eyes are down and Juan, over his shoulder, mouths a gracias to his future sister-in-law. Carmen nods faintly and addresses Javier calmly.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: This is why he didn’t want us out there, mi rey. No blowback, no consequences for us. You need to understand that.

Javier Cortez: I get that, bebé, I do. But it still ain’t right. Even if there’s a chance it could shut us down, that’s the jefe! We oughta be at his side! Hell we gonna be doin’ here if he ain’t here anyhow?!

Juan Cortez: Kickin’ ass, hermano. Winnin’. Showin’ the world what he saw in us in the first place, y’heard?

Javier Cortez: Still don’t like it, man. NOt one fuckin’ bit.

Carmen sighs, walking around to face Javier, hands on his cheeks.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: It isn’t for us to like or dislike. Mr. Cross did this for our sakes. For that matter, he did it for the sakes of Mr. Lester and Miss Lopez, too.

Juan Cortez: Yeah, speakin’ of… fuck is up with that? We gotta fight family? That’s some bullshit!

Rolling her eyes, Carmen turns to Juan, exasperated.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: Comes with the territory, Juan! Or did you forget about those go-rounds with brawls with the Cholo Nation back home?!

Juan goes wide-eyed for a moment, while the mere mention of it is enough to make Javier bust out laughing.

Javier Cortez: Man, those was some wild times! They was lucky we didn’t make that team forever! We’d still be runnin’ shit down there!

Finally breaking out in a grin, Juan shrugs and admits defeat.

Juan Cortez: Fine, fine! I’ll give ya that one!

All three are sharing in the mirth that comes with good memories and good times, but when the door opens and closes, all three sets of eyes, and the camera, turn… spotting Damon Cross entering. There’s a very pregnant pause before anyone speaks. Carmen is about to break the silence, but Damon slowly holds a hand up.

Damon Cross: I’ll tell you everything after the show tonight. You have my word. Business first.

La Lealtad exchange glances, then nod in agreement.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: That won’t be necessary.

Damon Cross: It absolutely is, though. You’ll see when I explain. Now…

Juan Cortez: Hold up, boss. Look… I know you’re probably used to this, but tonight… I don’t give two shits ‘bout Dane or Cass ‘cept we gotta fight ‘em. But Sylvia, man? That’s family. Maybe more to you than us, but you’re our fam so we consider her fam, too, feel me?

Damon nods, turning to Javier.

Javier Cortez: It just ain’t cool. We’re gonna do business, but-

Damon Cross: Believe me. I understand. That’s why I want you two to focus on Cass and Dane. Sylvia… leave her to me. Like you said: she’s family. I’ll get through to her and one way or another, we’ll do what needs to be done. Just follow my lead.

Carmen Viviana Esquivel: That’s good enough for us.

Juan and Javier nod in agreement, stepping up next to Carmen. Damon, after a moment, smiles just a little bit. The scene fades on that, as match time is nearing.

The scene is completely dark and silent for a moment until both are broken by the striking and lighting of a match. The one holding the match can barely be seen until the match taps what appears to be a fuse as it flares up spitting sparks in all directions. The light from these sparks helps to reveal Lorna being the source of all of this. More disturbing is that the lit fuse is connected to what appears to be several sticks of dynamite strung together. There is a slow burn to the fuse as Lorna blows out the match and giggles in a manner somewhere between childish and maniacal.

Lorna: Azzy Vebbins... In each other's affairs we both seem to mettle. A Beach Party Deathmatch is where all we will settle. There's one week left until you fall. Crashing down on you will be all. Time needs to press harder on the pedal! You said you'll bury me in the sand. There's something you don't understand. I'm not even close to sugary sweet. Not hesitating to stomp on your feet. I'll break your nose, your skull, your hand!

Lorna giggles and snorts as the fuse continues to burn down.

Lorna: Before I cared not to harm your face. Now, that's no longer the case. My rage and desire is firm. To see you writhe and squirm. Your blood spurting out all over the place! At this party there will be no dance. No music, no techno, no trance. No stripper poles, no stage. Just a pipe and my my rage. To your head, over and over, every chance!

Lorna giggles and snorts again and grins as the camera zooms in on her looking at the dynamite and the fuse that has just a few inches left.

Lorna: If there are any whips or any chains. I will use them to bash out your brains. I'll create brutal, bloody scenes. I'll relish in hearing your screams. Until only a messy pile of pulp remains! So, try to bury me in the sand like you said. Knock me out and into that sandy bed. Cover my body up completely. Hide me ever so discreetly. I'll burst out like I've risen from the dead!

Lorna laughs uncontrollably and then pinches the spark of the fuse with her fingers putting it out and returning to pitch black. The silence doesn't return as Lorna begins humming the dark melody of her own theme music and the scene fades.
Becky G’s “Green Light Go” starts playing over the sound system as the lights begin to slowly go in and out. Leah Aguero walks out onto the stage and makes her way down to ringside as the fans boo.

Leah rolls into the ring and takes a microphone.

Leah Aguero: Hey! Jansen Myrrh! Enough with the games. Enough with the fucking attitude! Get your ass out here and tell us all who this great special enforce you have found!


The fans pop as Jansen Myrrh hits the stage. The music quickly fades as she walks down towards the ring, championship over her shoulder.

Jansen Myrrh: Hey, Leah. First of all, fuck off.

The fans pop. Jansen climbs the steps and moves between the ropes to go face to face with her former best friend and current nemesis.

Jansen Myrrh: You’re dying to fucking know who’s gonna be the one to control our match right? Could have been anyone on this fucking roster, but I don’t trust anyone here to get the job done. I could have called up DTI and asked them, but I wouldn’t want to give you a reason to whine when you fucking lose. Could have called our pal Alastair Frost from Destiny, but I figure he’s got bigger fish to fry considering he’s the champ over there. At leave Coven is representing two brands right now. You ain’t representing shit.

Leah Aguero: Cut the shit! Just fucking tell me who’s coming!

Jansen Myrrh: You want to know who’s coming?.

Leah Aguero: Stop the fucking games and just tell me.

Jansen Myrrh: Look at the fucking Tron then, bitch.


Leah’s eyes go wide as she watches the video.

Leah Aguero: What have you done? Are you fucking crazy?!

Jansen is laughing so hard right now. She manages to get it under control before she responds.

Jansen Myrrh: You think I trust that guy? He’s a fucking loose cannon! But, I also know that he’s the only one I know who can fucking make sure this match doesn’t go off the rails. You want to know who I’m bringing to Cruel Summer to make sure this match is fair and square? I’m bringing fucking Gabriel Ohio, bitch.

Jansen throws down the microphone and starts to leave when Leah gets enraged and jumps Jansen from behind. She hits her hard enough to push her through the ropes and Jansen lands hard outside of the ring.

Leah crawls out to the apron and leaps down, stomping right on Jansen’s head. She pulls up the champion and whips her into the steel guard rail. Leah picks up the championship belt and stares at it for a few moments before charging at Jansen and nailing her right in the face with the belt, busting the champ open.

Moving in, Leah begins to hammer fists into the bloody forehead of Jansen Myrrh, causing more blood to spill as referees descend to ringside and break up the attack.

Leah moves away from the scene, belt still in hand as she rolls back into the ring and holds the belt high as the referees check on the champ outside of the ring as the scene fades to black.