NFW Collision #162!

We fade from the intro to the arena panning around all the fans cheering and chanting “NF DUB” all of them excited for the action coming up before going to the commentators table with Nick Hanson and Jim Reynolds waiting.

Nick Hanson: Hello everybody and welcome to NFW Collision I am Nick…

Before he can finish the lights go out.

Jim Reynolds: What the hell?

As he says this a voice booms over the sound system.


The lights go back on as “Chaos is my life” by The Exploited blasts on the speakers and the fans start to boo as Johnny Towers is seen walking through the crowd carrying his Mayfair Hooligan Championship over his shoulder.

Nick Hanson: Oh god, here we go again. What does this guy want?

Jim Reynolds: Hey Nick I keep telling you, treat our champion with some respect.

Johnny Towers gets to the barricade and jumps over a serious look on his face as he walks around to the stairs walking up onto the ring apron and getting in the ring and taking the microphone from the announcer before his music fades out.

Johnny Towers: Ya know what something has been rolling around my head the last couple of fucking weeks and ya know what I think I have come to a conclusion, what is my issue ya ask? Nah I know ya daffy cunts dont give a fuck but ya know what im gonna tell ya anyway I’m just that nice.

Towers paces around the ring a moment before raising the microphone back up.

Johnny Towers: Ya see I set out a declaration the other week, anyone who gets involved with my matches whether that be during or afterwards when im celebrating my inevitable victory that poor fucker get hurt, now I dont know if you are just fucking ignorant or your head is made of potatoes so I’ll put this in terms ya are gonna understand.

He turns and faces up the ramp to the stage.

Johnny Towers: Top o the evening to ya stupid wagon, why dont ya get ya fecking arse out here Psycho I know ya are here dont make me fucking wait.

With the lights dimmed, the Shieldmaidens’ motto, “Hell is empty and the Maidens are here!” comes up on the Tron. Slipknot's “Psychosocial” hits and “Psycho” Saoirse Maguire comes walking through the entryway smirking cruelly, a microphone in one hand and the NFW Silver Mountain Championship in the other.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: Bae ye done then? Because I tink th’ lot o’ us are sick tae death o’ listenin’ tae ye whine! Ye tried tae get ri o’ this an’ ye failed because I fixed it up fer ye. Ye bae badmotherfucker, aye, but then when ye bae openin’ yer mout, ye make yerself a whny, attention saekin’ pyro who kinna take th’ pressure o’ th’ burden ye fael at holdin’ up tha legacy!

Johnny Towers just stands there for a moment with an amused look on his face.

Johnny Towers: Fuck me sideways I must be elephant trunk, I am a little sorry to the yanks I didnt think someone botched up the english language as much as you but I stand corrected, god damn love if anyone ever fucking needs subtitles its you. Let me clear up the parts I could understand and I wish i didn't have to repeat myself again. I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ANYONES LEGACY BUT MINE! You see this here over my shoulder is the real title, that toy of a relic of the past is nothing but an anchor that weaker people bear because of some perceived loyalty to daft buggers who are long gone.

Towers rolls out the ring and goes under the ring picking out a trash can and carrying it into the ring with him.

Johnny Towers: Now then ya merchant banker why don't ya come get into this ring and we can introduce ourselves properly.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: Aye, ye gammy feckin bastard, an’ like I said, ye dinna wanna have tae carry this because ye kinna stand havin’ tae carry it so ye tried tae blaze yer own trail because tha way, ye dinna bae naedin’ tae live up tae ennithin an’ ye kin jess bae th’ one trick pony try hard ye baen since ye went tae Zion.

She steps up onto the apron.

“Psycho” Saoirse Maguire: Now, ye arrogant fanny, sho me whot ye bae so afraid o’.

Johnny Towers: Ya making me repeat myself again, for fuck sake I knew ya couldnt speak english properly didnt know ya couldnt understand it either and I dont have time to explain it to a simpleton.

Towers turns his back to Psycho looking like he is about to walk out the ring making Maguire reach out looking like she's gonna spin him back around when Towers reaches into the trash can suddenly taking out a lighttube and smashing it over Saoirse's head. Psycho goes down, falling all the way to the floor while the Silver Mountain belt lands there on the edge of the ring. Johnny picks up the belt, looking disgusted to be making physical contact with it and roses it into the garbage can. As Johnny just shakes his head at the rubbish, he starts fumbling for a way to light it on fire. Psycho dives back into the ring and tackles him. As the crow comes alive, security rushes down to pull them apart, both trying to get loose and screaming at each other.

Nick Hanson: How on earth are we going to contain these two?

Jim Reynolds: I don’t think we are, Nick. I’m not sure that’s even possible!
We cut backstage to the locker room area where we find Chasity Cage and Corey Alexander, the two of them unable to keep their hands off one another as they very clearly show their love and devotion to one another right in front of the camera. The two of them finally break the kiss, noticing the camera there on them.

Chasity Cage: This was a nice moment until you all got in here. What is it? Do you want to know something about my match tonight? Is that what this is?

Corey Alexander: They do have a job, baby, even if it does impose on the greatest moment in time. Besides, we both know everyone loves seeing us no matter what.

Corey grins as he pulls Chasity into another quick kiss.

Chasity Cage: That’s true and after tonight's match, the name of Chasity Cage will be on the lips of everyone in NFW. Collision Brand, you have no idea of what is happening here.

Corey Alexander: What you people are looking at is the hottest, greatest, and sexiest rising star Collision has ever seen.

Chasity smiles and begins to speak about her opponent, knowing that they didn’t have a lot of time before the match would happen. The sooner she got done, the sooner they could finish spending a few more private moments together.

Chasity Cage: Coco St. Cloud

She laughed a little, having a name like that, she knew what she’d be dealing with tonight.

Chasity Cage: Coco, you don’t know me and I don’t know you. But I know what I am more than capable of doing out there. We all saw it last week. Where were you?

Corey Alexander: She was paying off some jabroni to walk away from a match. That’s what she does, she can’t even lace your boots, baby.

She laughs at what Corey said, smiling at him then looking back into the camera.

Chasity Cage: Well I can tell you right now, you can’t pay me off. I won't go down without a real fight, so if a win is what you want. Make sure that you know who and what you are facing and what you are in for. I don’t see anything out of you other than a waste of good roster space. Because if you could actually wrestle, you would do that.. Instead of paying people.

Suddenly, there’s a frantic knock on the door as Corey looks at Chasity a little confused before he goes to open it and Lilith Meadows comes rushing inside, breathing heavily.

Lilith Meadows: Oh, we’re gonna be trouble soon!

Corey Alexander: Oh lord…

Chasity smiles at her and laughs softly, shaking her head.

Chasity Cage: Awww babe it’s just Lil.. you should be used to our chaos by now. I mean.. I know you enjoyed the football game the other day.

Corey Alexander: You know I did, but who wouldn’t enjoy watching you dance around in a sexy cheerleader outfit?

Lilith can’t help but chuckle before she steps away from the door.

Lilith Meadows: And in three…two…one!

And with that, there’s a loud crash outside of the locker room and a bunch of people yelling and screaming as Lilith stands there giggling. Chasity presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose, between her eyes.

Chasity Cage: What did you do?

Lilith Meadows: We just caused a small little ruckus with some trusses and boxes fallin all over the hallway causin a big mess and maybe almost fallin on Darcy Graves, that dirty cheater.

Lilith grins as she gives a little wink. Chasity giggles.

Chasity Cage: That’s what happens to people who mess with us. We have a great desire to cause your life so much chaos, that you regret messing up.

She looks at the camera and laughs.

Chasity Cage: Now get out so we can plan our next course of action.. Camera’s carry too much evidence.

She watched as the camera man left the room, leaving the three together to cause more chaos.
As Chasity Cage clears the ring, Coco St. Cloud yanks the microphone away from the ring announcer's hand. Raking her dark hair, the music cuts as Coco takes hold of the top rope, maintaining a level of calmness and composure that her words do not convey.

Coco St. Cloud: Ladies and gentlemen! Hideous creatures in attendance, pay attention to me!

The boos roll in from the Chicago crowd, causing St. Cloud's eyes to go wide in shock. Legitimately disturbed that the people do not like her.

Coco St. Cloud: Okay, first of all? Rude! Every single one of you!

A manicured finger raises, chastising the crowd. This only incites more jeers from them, making her eyes roll.

Coco St. Cloud: You didn't even know what I was gonna say... as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I would like each of us to extend a big round of applause for Dickolas Cage!

The accusing hand is now gesturing open-palmed to the blonde on the ramp.

Coco St. Cloud: What? Your name's Chasity Cage and you got a weird ass face... to spare you a few questionable Google searches I'm sure you're bound to make since it seems the lights are on but no one's home, you cannot tell me that your momma wasn't into some freak nasty shit to give you a name like that. Including the typo of Chastity, at that... from day one, minute one, you came onto this Earth as a mistake.

The crowd gasps, while Coco grins from ear-to-ear. Admiring her nails, lackadaisically.

Coco St. Cloud: Can't relate, Chasmine.

She giggled.

Coco St. Cloud: But look, baby, I'mma let you go. I'm sure you got a busy night ahead of you, looking for the key to let your big, bottle-blonde cuck free of his own chasity cage so you can continue celebrating your two week-iversary like a bunch of literal losers straight out of high school... I'll be here, taking over this company, one match at a time! And to that, I'm sure you can't relate. We're on the same page here. Speaking of being on the same page, though...

The boos continue to pour down, but this time? They're much less distracting. They're a presence Coco has gotten used to.

Coco St. Cloud: You better not have forgotten what I told you!

She said, her attention turning to the tron. Her eyes narrowed, in a threatening manner. The Collision logo above the steel framework blinking out as if the lights in it had faded out. A buzzing, electrical noise filling the air as the lights return, and the logo is replaced with a much more stylish, gold and white, illuminated and cursive Cocollision logo.

Coco St. Cloud: Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. And a great logo, too.

Coco smirked, taking in her handiwork. Definitely acting above her station, but as far as she saw it? It was making improvements... improvements no one asked for, but improvements she was certain that the roster would be grateful for. No one ever knew what they needed until it was in front of their faces, after all.

Coco St. Cloud: While we're on the subject of things I can't relate to... competition. Have you guys seen any around here? I know I haven't. Not really. Two weeks, two flawless victories. Not a glisten glistened! While I love that for me, the best we can do for me is fishing out a freshman going through her goth phase? This was cute adjacent, but I think we can do better than cute adjacent. We can do drop dead gorgeous for me. I'm WORTH that! I think we're onto bigger... better things for this place, and for me.

The logo box is pulled off of the microphone, leaving it bare. She tosses it into the crowd, uncaring of where it may go. Grabbing hold of her designer bag from the corner, perfectly color-coordinated to go with her gear. A new logo box replaces it: a vibrant, diamond-encrusted "C" to match the gaudy sign that Coco's taken the liberty of improving.

Coco St. Cloud: Rest assured, fashion victims... this is only the beginning of the beautiful vision I have for this place.

She pushes the microphone into the chest of Darlyn and immediately dusts her hands. "Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels" cues up as Coco snags her bag and her shades, placing the former over her shoulder and the latter over her eyes. Strutting to the other side of the ring and bending out of it, she eases herself onto the floor. Strutting up the opposite entrance ramp with the same air of superiority that has earned her the continual chorus of boos.
The sight before us is one of the locker rooms backstage at the Collision Center, one with a door slightly ajar and someone behind it, pacing back and forth in the midst of what sounds like a heated conversation.

”...you need to stop worrying and start listening to me! What happened to all the talk of my being the only person you could trust, because you’re not acting like it!”

The speaker is a very agitated Zoey Madigan-Star, already dressed for her match later against Christina Olson, but with her attention taken up by this phone call. It’s hard to tell if she’s trying to reassure the other person or just ranting at them, but a combination of both seems accurate. Her pacing continues as she goes on…

Zoey Madigan-Star: Need I remind you of what happened a few weeks ago? I don’t want a repeat of that happening again? That’s why we’re doing this my way: one step at a time, carefully, with eyes forward. Okay? Honestly… you haven’t changed a bit!

There’s a faint bit of affection in her tone as she says the last part, perhaps even more. However, it’s also at about that time when she realizes that someone is outside the room. Half her face is seen, her golden eyes narrowing sharply as she shoves, or perhaps kicks, the door closed! The cameraperson jumps back, shaking the view, only to whip around and find the Sorceress Supreme of Professional Wrestling glaring at them!

Jim Reynolds: Yo, how the hell’d she do that?!

Nick Hanson: She’s a magician, for crying out loud! You oughta be used to this sorta thing with her by now!

Jim Reynolds: Would YOU get used to someone popping round like they’re using Instant Transmission?!

Nick Hanson: No, I suppose not.

The cameraperson seems ready to back off, perhaps retreat, but Zoey reaches past the camera and takes hold of them somehow, shaking her head silently. Via the gestures of her hand, she prompts the person to raise the lens and focus a little, offering up a smile more predatory than pleasant.

Zoey Madigan-Star: Everyone just has to know everyone’s business, hm?

Cameraman: Well, I mean… no, but-

Zoey Madigan-Star: Sh-sh-shhhh… I get it. Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be here if someone didn’t put you up to it. Who was it, though? The lady in charge? My opponent tonight? Perhaps some plastic-wrapped, red-headed harpy who forgot what these hands are capable of?

Zoey brings up one of those hands in question, for now sheathed in a pure white glove with purple cuffs, no doubt something she wears on stage from time to time. She clenches her fingers into a fist so tightly that the knuckles pop and crack, which either sounds hideous or soothing depending on your sensibilities.

Cameraman: I’d rather not say-

Zoey Madigan-Star: That’s okay. That just answers my question for me.

The smile goes away and Zoey lowers than hand, staring off into space for a few moments.

Nick Hanson: I really miss the old Zoey.

Jim Reynolds: You and the rest of the morons out there. I’m liking this new mean side. Glad to see she had it in her.

Nick Hanson: Just goes to show that no one’s immune to the dark side of the business.

Jim Reynolds: Meh, don’t be so melodramatic.

After a couple quiet moments, Zoey lets go of the cameraman and turns to fully face him and the camera itself.

Zoey Madigan-Star: Just because I’ve been quiet and minding my business doesn’t mean I haven’t been paying attention to what has been going on. People talking a big game and waving their whatever around before disappearing off the face of the planet, as though you expected any less of them. This while other swarm like chickens after breakfast, making fools of themselves, all to get something that they’d screw up anyway. Maybe I’ve just been in this business too long, my wife tells me as much all the time, but there’s little that surprises me about it anymore. One lesson has stuck with me, though: if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Raion got the better of me last time I was in the ring, but there’s no shame in that. He’s a gentleman and knows how to throw down. So good for him. Maybe we’ll dance again in the future and I can return the favor. But tonight?

She tosses her head, that shimmering black hair with indigo streaks flying artfully over her shoulder as a result.

Zoey Madigan-Star: Tonight… it’s Christina Olson. Dear, I don’t know what you’re on or what you’re on about, and I don’t care to waste time figuring it out. Tonight, I’m going to grace that ring with my presence and remind all those fans out there of just what I’m capable of. If that means you take some lumps, then so be it. That’s wrestling. Heck, that’s life. But a word to the wise, not just for you, but for everyone else?

Beckoning the camera in a bit more, Zoey fixes her startling golden gaze upon it.

Zoey Madigan-Star: Don’t blink. The moment you lose might just be the moment I need.

She winks, then smirks.

Zoey Madigan-Star: Prepare for the show of a lifetime.

Then, just like that, she’s gone in a puff of purple smoke, leaving the cameraman once again flabbergasted.

Nick Hanson: Even when you got your eyes on her, she slips away!

Jim Reynolds: Guess the trick is making her stay put! I’m betting Christina Olson will take care of that later on!

Nick Hanson: She just might!

Cameras then cut away to…
The camera cut backstage to show the NFW World Heavyweight Champion Morgan Payne and her wife Marilyn Matthews. The crowd in the arena pops hard seeing the pair. They wait as the crowd shows their appreciation and love for the long-time roster members. Mary rubs her hands together and chuckles.

Marilyn Matthews: Damn, it’s been a hot ass minute since we got to team like this.

She shoots Morgan a sideways glance. Sitting on a bench, putting the finishing prep on her boot laces, Morgan pops up to her feet with a level of excitement we’re not used to seeing from her.

Morgan Payne: Ahnno! Excitin’ tho, ain’t it?

She continues to warm up, twisting from side to side.

Marilyn Matthews: Damn right it is! Even better that it’s us out there tonight. Got some good backup in case that grande pendejo feels froggy. Cause a mother fucker is just beggin a bitch to make some hamburger helper.

Mary gives Morgan a deadpan look. Morgan turns serious then and stops twisting. She cracks her knuckles then rolls a shoulder.

Morgan Payne: ’Ey, Boo. A wise man once said: fuck that puto. Kinda hate dat Dona’s caught up in da middle of all dis, but we’ll cross dat bridge when we get to it.

Marilyn Matthews: Yeah. But we know she’ll have our back if we need it too. Cause, being honest, we just might.

Mary shrugs.

Marilyn Matthews: But aside from that, we get a chance to remind bitches of who we are. Get the feeling that some of these mother fuckers like to forget shit. Or just be willingly fucking stupid. Cause lets be real, babe, there are some stupid mother fuckers on this roster.

Morgan Payne: Pfft. Some stupid muhfuckers in dis whole company. Oh, dat reminds me! Close ya eyes!

And she turns, bending over the bench and starting to ruffle through her gear bag. Mary stops for a second to ask but shakes her head and does as she’s asked. Morgan comes back up with two black t-shirts in her hand, draping one over Mary’s head and face before starting to put the other one on, herself. By the time Mary’s able to clear her vision, Morgan’s standing there with her arms out, low to the sides, showing off the new official “REGULATORS: MOUNT UP” t-shirt.

Morgan Payne: Ahh? Ah?

Mary pulled the shirt off of her head and looked at the one Morgan was wearing. She grinned and nodded her head.

Marilyn Matthews: Hell yeah. Just what we needed.

Mary pulls hers over her head and ring gear.

Marilyn Matthews: Might have to turn our eyes to them tag titles soon. Bring them back to the Kingdom. Besides, been too long since I had a title around my waist. Feelin a bit light.

Mary reaches out and pats the World Title. Morgan looks at the title over her shoulder and smiles a little, shrugging and nodding.

Morgan Payne: Yeah, you right. Call me crazy but, nice as it is bein’ da bitch to beat? Be kinda nice taggin’ wif you long term.

There’s a pause before Morgan leans in and snatches a smooch off of Mary’s lips.

Marilyn Matthews: But that’s later. Tonight we gotta deal with this big ass mother fucker and have a good old scrap with Donna. Just a whole ass whoopin goin out tonight.

At that point, Morgan leans back and her voice fills the room, flowing out into the hallway.

Morgan Payne: REGULATOOOOOOOOOORS!!!!

Marilyn Matthews: MOUNT UP!!!!!!!!

Mary calls back to Morgan. The pair give each other a high five before walking off towards the ring with Morgan whistling the opening to their tag theme.