Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Jun 3, 2018 16:48:29 GMT -8
[EARLIER THIS AFTERNOON]
Fans stand outside the arena, waiting to be let in while also hoping to get a glimpse of their favorite superstars as they arrive at the arena.
Seconds later, a black Escalade rental pulls up between the safety barriers the fans are behind. The door opens and out steps Nico Salvatore, dressed in jeans, his ‘Straight Outta Brooklyn’ shirt, shades and bandana around his head. After grabbing his bags out of the back, he hands the keys to a valet and starts the walk towards the entrance to the backstage area. Walking nonchalantly, he raises a middle finger to the booing fans, not even giving the courtesy of looking at them.
“Nico! Nico, excuse me!” NFW interviewer Josh Andrews approaches Nico from the side with a microphone. Nico stops, looks at him and raises his sunglasses, sizing the man up. “Who the fuck’re you, f’nuc?”
Somewhat at a loss for words, Josh frowns. “Uhh...my name’s Josh. I work for the company. I do interv—“, Nico claps a hand over the man’s mouth (think as if he were going for a chokehold in terms of grip.) “Yeah yeah yeah, I get it. The hell do you want?”
Josh says nothing. His eyes only glance down at Nico’s hand over his mouth then back up at the man. Nico looks at his hand and at Josh. “You better have something smart to say, or this hand’s coming back up as a fist in the same spot, got me?” Josh’s eyes widen and he nods. Nico drops his hand.
“I just wanted to, hopefully, get some last words from you before your match with Tyson Law. As we know, you’ll be kicking off Reckoning Day with a No Disqualification match and he seems pretty ups—“ Josh let’s out a terrified squeak as Nico’s arm moves but it’s only to clasp a hand over his mouth again.
“Last words? That some kinda jab that you expect Law t’kill me tonight?” Nico frowns at the man like he’s an idiot. “I oughta feed ya your fuckin’ teeth. Tyson Law’s a punk bitch who couldn’t come at me face to face. He had to sneak attack me from behind ‘cause he’s too scared to face me like a man. Well, tonight, there ain’t gonna be any sneaking up. Motherfucker wants t’street fight? In my home city? I’m gonna show him how we do it, for real. You tell the guy when you see him, he’s got a lesson in manhood waitin’ for him. Class is in session and Professor Nico Suave’s issuing the test. He don’t come to that ring 100% ready, he’s gonna fail harder than his mother did on the casting couch.”
Nico uncovers Josh’s mouth; the man brings the mic back to himself. “Thank you, Nico.... Umm, if I may—“ Nico jerks his arm up, causing the man to flinch before he walks off screen. “Pfft. Pussy.” We hear the superstar utter as Josh looks on like he just escaped a dance with death and the shot fades out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shot opens up on dark clouds rolling across the sky, thick enough to blot out the sun. Ominous music plays as we see a dense wasteland of crumbled cities and fallen monuments. It's like armageddon has come and gone. A moment later, we hear the voice of the late Johnny Cash come over as a narration.
"And I heard...as it were...the noise of thunder....
One of the four beasts saying come and see...and I saw....
And behold, a pale horse...."
The logo for Reckoning Day flashes across the screen - the words carved out of broken stone as Megadeth's "Reckoning Day" begins to tune up in the video. With this, we are given a recap of everything leading up to Reckoning Day, from the very beginning of N8FW's rebirth Some shots are in color, others in grim black and white depending on the mood of the clip. The clips are slightly sped up to fit the pace of the music and set the mood.
In color, we see the opening of the first NFW show, complete with Nick Hanson and Jim Reynolds excitedly welcoming everyone. We see glimpses of the first card's entrances, mainly focusing on those of Lara Blackheart, Apocalypta, Rosemary, Candi Brodeur, Vincent Stone, and Tyson Law (some who are on tonight's card).
In black and white we see: Vincent Stone hit the FATALITY on Connor K. Rosemary hits the Red Wedding on Candi Brodeur. Lara Blackheart lands her 450 senton onto Erin Mercer.
In color, again, we see further recaps. Bits of Rosemary's promos with Stone.
Again, in black and white, we see the moment he submitted and Rosemary sprayed him with the yellow mist. The clip abruptly cuts to a close up of his new painted face, smiling like the maniac he has become.
In color we see Lara Blackheart excitedly hugging Mia Hyashi during the promo where she went to welcome her best friend into NFW...
...And then in black and white, Mia shoves Lara off of the turnbuckle. Sharp cut to Apocalypta hitting the Ground Zero to win the Women's Championship.
Further on, we get a recap of the tournament, and the tag team matches, focusing on the McKeesport Mafia and the Circle of Snakes. Finally, we see the arrival of the Dominion of Pain, closing in on Judas Lasher's smiling face before cutting to the unnerved expression of Abaddon's. The N*FW logo flashes across the screen and we hear the voice of a staffed narrator.
"And now...New Frontier Wrestling proudly brings to you...N*FW Reckoning Day!"
Cutting to the inside of the arena, we are given a pyro show that severely outshines the usual weekly display. The crowd is going wild as Nick Hanson and Jim Reynolds welcome everyone watching from home.'
Hanson: "Welcome, everyone! We are live in Madison Square Garden, New York City and Reckoning Day is FINALLY upon us!"
Reynolds: "I am PSYCHED Nicky! I cannot wait for this to kick off!"
Hanson: "Me neither, partner! We've got a stacked card. EVERY championship is on the line, here tonight, INCLUDING...the NFW Tag Team Championships and the World Heavyweight Championship which we will be crowning the first champions with both of those titles."
Reynolds: "Speaking of title matches, we've got the Silver Mountain Championship. Adam Cole defends against Rick Dickulous and believe me when I say it, people, Rick is pissed and he's bringing the fight to Adam Cole, tonight."
Hanson: "We've also got the semi-main event. The Women's Championship. Champion Apocalypta has been on a tear since she set foot into N*FW. I'll go so far as to say her actions towards Lara Blackheart have been downright disgusting but, she just may face judgement tonight when she defends against Lara's friend and confidant, Shelley Silver."
Reynolds: "Not only that, but we're gonna see Lara and former friend Mia Hayashi finally square up in a sanctioned match. Nicky, we've also got a goddamn INFERNO match tonight. I hate those things."
Hanson: "I understand where you're coming from partner. It's one of the most dangerous matches in wre--"
Reynolds: "Makes my balls sweat."
Hanson: "Oh for Christ's sake, Jimmy!"
Hanson sighs, exasperated.
Hanson: "On that note, I'm not even gonna comment but we're gonna turn it over to our ring announcer as we kick off this first pay per view with a boom!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Burn Halo's "Save Me" began to play as Tyson Law walked out onto the stage, holding his arms out to the side as his pyro went off. A look of determination never seen before was locked on his face, steely glare in his eyes as he walked down to the ring for his match.
Hopping into the ring, he called for the microphone as his music cut out.
"Nico Salvatore... the son of the beast. No wonder you never told us about this, since you will NEVER be half the man or half the athlete he is. You dumb son of a bitch... if you'd have kept your damn mouth shut and just kicked ass like your old man does, you'd have whipped my ass and been done with it. But you ran your mouth, and humiliated me.... and now you lit a fire in me. I might win tonight, I might lose tonight. But one thing I can promise you: win or lose, tonight? I am going to BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU."
He slid out of the ring briefly, pulling three steel chairs out from under the ring. Throwing each one in under the bottom rope, he then slid back into the ring himself.
"Time to pay the price for being an arrogant prick, Salvatore. Let's do this."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After Tyson dropped the mic, I Prevail's "Come And Get It" blasted on over the speakers. As Nico made his entrance, taunting the crowd and his opponent down the ramp, Tyson signaled for the referee to ring the bell before leaving the ring. Hesitantly, the ref called for the start of the match as Tyson rushed up the ramp right at Nico and the two began brawling at ringside.
Hanson: "Well, Nico hasn't made it to the ring yet but it's technically a No DQ and this match is officially under way!"
Reynolds: "This isn't a match, this is a FIGHT Nicky!"
For nearly half an hour, Salvatore and Law absolutely tore the house down, setting the standard for the rest of the show. The two men's brawl spilled out into the audience section itself, going a whole ten minutes before they finally even made it to the ring. After multiple chair shots, kendo stick shots and attempts at putting each other through tables, Tyson Law went for a top rope Frankensteiner while Nico Salvatore was dazed up on the turnbuckle. However, Nico managed to hold onto his legs and keep himself from being thrown down to the mat. Instead, in a jaw dropping display of finesse, he pushed Law up over his head and caught him by the arms, right into the set up for his finisher.
Reynolds: "DID YOU SEE THAT, NICKY?!"
Hanson: "I DID BUT I MIGHT NEED MY EYES CHECKED! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!"
With a thunderous thud against the mat, Nico leapt off of the turnbuckle, driving Tyson down with the To The Gods before falling back in exhaustion.
Reynolds: "WHAT'S HE DOING?! CAPITALIZE, DAMN IT!"
Hanson: "Cut him a break, Jim. These men can barely stand!"
It was Tyson Law first to his feet, though, Signaling to the crowd, he reached down and grabbed Nico by the wrist.
Hanson: "Ohhhh, here it comes, Jim!"
With every ounce of strength left in his body, Tyson pulled Nico up to his feet and went for the Lawbreaker clothesline. Shockingly, Nico ducked under and countered with a direct kick to the groin. To the jeers of the crowd, he lifted Tyson up, planting him with a second To The Gods. Even as the ref dropped to a knee for the pin, though, Nico refused to go for the cover. Shaking his head, instead, he waggeda finger at the ref before picking Tyson up by his hair and setting him up again.
Reynolds: "Are you fucking serious? He's gonna go for it again?!"
Indeed, Nico lifted Tyson up, driving him down with a THIRD To The Gods before finally going for the cover, scoring the pinfall at 26:43.
Hanson: "MY GOD, WHAT A MATCH!"
Reynolds: "I hope everyone backstage was watching, because they have a lot to live up to! Welcome, again, to Reckoning Day and this crowd is on their feet for both men!"
After getting his arm raised, Nico yanks his arm away from the ref and turns to look at Tyson Law. After a moment, Tyson begins pulling himself up on the ropes to get to his feet.
Hanson: "Aw no, don't tell me. Nico, it's over. You won! No more!"
Nico takes a step towards Tyson as he manages to maintain his balance on his feet, staring right back at his opponent...as Nico slowly offers our a handshake with an amused smile. We can't hear him per say but we can read his lips as he speaks to Tyson.
"Good shit, paisano...good shit! That's what I fuckin' wanted! Way to bring it!"
Hanson: "Jimmy, am I going crazy or is Nico Salvatore actually *complimenting* Tyson Law?"
Reynolds: "I can hardly believe it either, but yup! He's going for a handshake!"
Hanson: "I wouldn't trust him, though."
Obviously hesitant, Tyson Law limps two steps towards Nico and looks at his hand. Nico raises both hands submissively. We can see him mouthing.
"No tricks, man. I gotta hand it to you!"
He extends his hand again. Tyson slowly starts to reach out for the man's hand before something off camera, behind Nico, catches his eye. Tyson looks passed his opponent, confused and alarmed.
Hanson: "Wait, what's he-- oh my god! What the hell?!"
Cutting from the close up of Law and Salvatore to a wider shot of the ring, we see the masked assailant from the recent weeks standing on the apron at the corner. With his usual blue and red mask, he wears solid black. Long sleeves, jeans and his Converse sneakers. He just stands there at the apron, watching Law and Salvatore from the corner.
Hanson: "Jimmy, that's--"
Reynolds: "I know who it is, but what the hell is he doing here?"
Hanson: "I...who knows? He's not gonna try to take these two head on, is he?"
Reynolds: "Oh, I wanna see this shit. Get in the ring, asshole! I wanna see these boys beat your fucking ass!"
Hanson: "WAIT, A SEC! JIM, LOOK!!"
With both men in the ring distracted, a SECOND masked individual comes from the crowd. Also in all black and a mask of similar design to that of the assailants. This one, however, is dark purple with yellow for the trimming as well as the R logo on the forehead. The man in the purple mask blows right passed Tyson Law and hits Nico with a vicious chop block from behind. Tyson Law jumps back in alarm, raising his fists ready to go as the original assailant in the blue and red mask enters the ring quickly. Instead of making it a two on two, however, it becomes a two on one as both men hone in on Nico and begin stomping away at him.
Hanson: "What the hell, Jim?! They're going right after Nico!"
Reynolds: "It's like Tyson's not even a factor to them!"
Hanson: "First Mannheim and Pitt, Shelton Benjamin, Andrew Payne. We even saw Candi Brodeur allegedly attacked. Now, Nico Salvatore?! What the hell is going on?!"
Reynolds: "Why's Tyson just standing there?!"
Hanson: "I think he's just as confused as we are!"
After a moment of kicks and stomps, the man in the blue and red mask signals for the man in purple and yellow to get Nico up. He steps back, taking a stance as Nico is pulled to his knees.
Hanson: "Oh no, what's he---"
*WHACK*
Reynolds: "SUPERKICK!"
A superkick that sends Nico right back down into a heap. They weren't finished, yet, apparently as the man in the blue and red mask seemed to goad his colleague on into getting in something of his own on their target. With a fist bump to his partner, the man in the purple and yellow mask pulled Nico up to his feet, hooking an arm around his neck in a set up for a reverse Flatliner. With a spit to Nico's face, he followed through with the move, driving him face first into the canvas.
Hanson: "THAT'S JUST DESPICABLE! SPITTING IN A MAN'S FACE LIKE THAT, AND FOR WHAT?!"
Getting to his feet, the man with the purple and yellow mask high fives his partner in the blue and red. The latter finally moves forward, picking Nico up again.
Hanson: "Jesus Christ, no more! He just had a match, for goodness' sake!"
Reynolds: "Who the fuck are these guys, Nicky?! Wait, what's this asshole doing now?"
Back in the ring, the man in the blue and red mask set Nico up with his arms hooked behind his back. He lifts Nico up and DRILLS him head first into the mat with a double underhook piledriver.
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD!!"
Finally, the two masked man turn towards Tyson Law, who still stood with his hands up and ready.
Reynolds: "Oh NOW they're gonna move on Tyson! Couple of damn hyenas!"
Rather than move in for an attack, however, the one in the red and blue mask reached back under his shirt and pulled a black t-shirt, hanging from his back pocket...and tossed it to Tyson. Slowlu, Tyson opens it up to reveal a giant 'R' logo on the front. He looks up at the two in confusion. The man in the blue and red mask begins making gestures, pointing to Tyson and gesturing to himself and his partner. The man in the purple and yellow mask opens out his arms in a welcoming gesture before tapping his temple as if to say 'think about it' before the two turn and leave the ring, exiting up the ramp.
Hanson: "What the hell? They want Tyson to join them?"
Reynolds: "Whaaaaat the heeeeeeell, Nicky? I don't get any of this!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fans stand outside the arena, waiting to be let in while also hoping to get a glimpse of their favorite superstars as they arrive at the arena.
Seconds later, a black Escalade rental pulls up between the safety barriers the fans are behind. The door opens and out steps Nico Salvatore, dressed in jeans, his ‘Straight Outta Brooklyn’ shirt, shades and bandana around his head. After grabbing his bags out of the back, he hands the keys to a valet and starts the walk towards the entrance to the backstage area. Walking nonchalantly, he raises a middle finger to the booing fans, not even giving the courtesy of looking at them.
“Nico! Nico, excuse me!” NFW interviewer Josh Andrews approaches Nico from the side with a microphone. Nico stops, looks at him and raises his sunglasses, sizing the man up. “Who the fuck’re you, f’nuc?”
Somewhat at a loss for words, Josh frowns. “Uhh...my name’s Josh. I work for the company. I do interv—“, Nico claps a hand over the man’s mouth (think as if he were going for a chokehold in terms of grip.) “Yeah yeah yeah, I get it. The hell do you want?”
Josh says nothing. His eyes only glance down at Nico’s hand over his mouth then back up at the man. Nico looks at his hand and at Josh. “You better have something smart to say, or this hand’s coming back up as a fist in the same spot, got me?” Josh’s eyes widen and he nods. Nico drops his hand.
“I just wanted to, hopefully, get some last words from you before your match with Tyson Law. As we know, you’ll be kicking off Reckoning Day with a No Disqualification match and he seems pretty ups—“ Josh let’s out a terrified squeak as Nico’s arm moves but it’s only to clasp a hand over his mouth again.
“Last words? That some kinda jab that you expect Law t’kill me tonight?” Nico frowns at the man like he’s an idiot. “I oughta feed ya your fuckin’ teeth. Tyson Law’s a punk bitch who couldn’t come at me face to face. He had to sneak attack me from behind ‘cause he’s too scared to face me like a man. Well, tonight, there ain’t gonna be any sneaking up. Motherfucker wants t’street fight? In my home city? I’m gonna show him how we do it, for real. You tell the guy when you see him, he’s got a lesson in manhood waitin’ for him. Class is in session and Professor Nico Suave’s issuing the test. He don’t come to that ring 100% ready, he’s gonna fail harder than his mother did on the casting couch.”
Nico uncovers Josh’s mouth; the man brings the mic back to himself. “Thank you, Nico.... Umm, if I may—“ Nico jerks his arm up, causing the man to flinch before he walks off screen. “Pfft. Pussy.” We hear the superstar utter as Josh looks on like he just escaped a dance with death and the shot fades out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shot opens up on dark clouds rolling across the sky, thick enough to blot out the sun. Ominous music plays as we see a dense wasteland of crumbled cities and fallen monuments. It's like armageddon has come and gone. A moment later, we hear the voice of the late Johnny Cash come over as a narration.
"And I heard...as it were...the noise of thunder....
One of the four beasts saying come and see...and I saw....
And behold, a pale horse...."
The logo for Reckoning Day flashes across the screen - the words carved out of broken stone as Megadeth's "Reckoning Day" begins to tune up in the video. With this, we are given a recap of everything leading up to Reckoning Day, from the very beginning of N8FW's rebirth Some shots are in color, others in grim black and white depending on the mood of the clip. The clips are slightly sped up to fit the pace of the music and set the mood.
In color, we see the opening of the first NFW show, complete with Nick Hanson and Jim Reynolds excitedly welcoming everyone. We see glimpses of the first card's entrances, mainly focusing on those of Lara Blackheart, Apocalypta, Rosemary, Candi Brodeur, Vincent Stone, and Tyson Law (some who are on tonight's card).
In black and white we see: Vincent Stone hit the FATALITY on Connor K. Rosemary hits the Red Wedding on Candi Brodeur. Lara Blackheart lands her 450 senton onto Erin Mercer.
In color, again, we see further recaps. Bits of Rosemary's promos with Stone.
Again, in black and white, we see the moment he submitted and Rosemary sprayed him with the yellow mist. The clip abruptly cuts to a close up of his new painted face, smiling like the maniac he has become.
In color we see Lara Blackheart excitedly hugging Mia Hyashi during the promo where she went to welcome her best friend into NFW...
...And then in black and white, Mia shoves Lara off of the turnbuckle. Sharp cut to Apocalypta hitting the Ground Zero to win the Women's Championship.
Further on, we get a recap of the tournament, and the tag team matches, focusing on the McKeesport Mafia and the Circle of Snakes. Finally, we see the arrival of the Dominion of Pain, closing in on Judas Lasher's smiling face before cutting to the unnerved expression of Abaddon's. The N*FW logo flashes across the screen and we hear the voice of a staffed narrator.
"And now...New Frontier Wrestling proudly brings to you...N*FW Reckoning Day!"
Cutting to the inside of the arena, we are given a pyro show that severely outshines the usual weekly display. The crowd is going wild as Nick Hanson and Jim Reynolds welcome everyone watching from home.'
Hanson: "Welcome, everyone! We are live in Madison Square Garden, New York City and Reckoning Day is FINALLY upon us!"
Reynolds: "I am PSYCHED Nicky! I cannot wait for this to kick off!"
Hanson: "Me neither, partner! We've got a stacked card. EVERY championship is on the line, here tonight, INCLUDING...the NFW Tag Team Championships and the World Heavyweight Championship which we will be crowning the first champions with both of those titles."
Reynolds: "Speaking of title matches, we've got the Silver Mountain Championship. Adam Cole defends against Rick Dickulous and believe me when I say it, people, Rick is pissed and he's bringing the fight to Adam Cole, tonight."
Hanson: "We've also got the semi-main event. The Women's Championship. Champion Apocalypta has been on a tear since she set foot into N*FW. I'll go so far as to say her actions towards Lara Blackheart have been downright disgusting but, she just may face judgement tonight when she defends against Lara's friend and confidant, Shelley Silver."
Reynolds: "Not only that, but we're gonna see Lara and former friend Mia Hayashi finally square up in a sanctioned match. Nicky, we've also got a goddamn INFERNO match tonight. I hate those things."
Hanson: "I understand where you're coming from partner. It's one of the most dangerous matches in wre--"
Reynolds: "Makes my balls sweat."
Hanson: "Oh for Christ's sake, Jimmy!"
Hanson sighs, exasperated.
Hanson: "On that note, I'm not even gonna comment but we're gonna turn it over to our ring announcer as we kick off this first pay per view with a boom!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Burn Halo's "Save Me" began to play as Tyson Law walked out onto the stage, holding his arms out to the side as his pyro went off. A look of determination never seen before was locked on his face, steely glare in his eyes as he walked down to the ring for his match.
Hopping into the ring, he called for the microphone as his music cut out.
"Nico Salvatore... the son of the beast. No wonder you never told us about this, since you will NEVER be half the man or half the athlete he is. You dumb son of a bitch... if you'd have kept your damn mouth shut and just kicked ass like your old man does, you'd have whipped my ass and been done with it. But you ran your mouth, and humiliated me.... and now you lit a fire in me. I might win tonight, I might lose tonight. But one thing I can promise you: win or lose, tonight? I am going to BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU."
He slid out of the ring briefly, pulling three steel chairs out from under the ring. Throwing each one in under the bottom rope, he then slid back into the ring himself.
"Time to pay the price for being an arrogant prick, Salvatore. Let's do this."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After Tyson dropped the mic, I Prevail's "Come And Get It" blasted on over the speakers. As Nico made his entrance, taunting the crowd and his opponent down the ramp, Tyson signaled for the referee to ring the bell before leaving the ring. Hesitantly, the ref called for the start of the match as Tyson rushed up the ramp right at Nico and the two began brawling at ringside.
Hanson: "Well, Nico hasn't made it to the ring yet but it's technically a No DQ and this match is officially under way!"
Reynolds: "This isn't a match, this is a FIGHT Nicky!"
For nearly half an hour, Salvatore and Law absolutely tore the house down, setting the standard for the rest of the show. The two men's brawl spilled out into the audience section itself, going a whole ten minutes before they finally even made it to the ring. After multiple chair shots, kendo stick shots and attempts at putting each other through tables, Tyson Law went for a top rope Frankensteiner while Nico Salvatore was dazed up on the turnbuckle. However, Nico managed to hold onto his legs and keep himself from being thrown down to the mat. Instead, in a jaw dropping display of finesse, he pushed Law up over his head and caught him by the arms, right into the set up for his finisher.
Reynolds: "DID YOU SEE THAT, NICKY?!"
Hanson: "I DID BUT I MIGHT NEED MY EYES CHECKED! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!"
With a thunderous thud against the mat, Nico leapt off of the turnbuckle, driving Tyson down with the To The Gods before falling back in exhaustion.
Reynolds: "WHAT'S HE DOING?! CAPITALIZE, DAMN IT!"
Hanson: "Cut him a break, Jim. These men can barely stand!"
It was Tyson Law first to his feet, though, Signaling to the crowd, he reached down and grabbed Nico by the wrist.
Hanson: "Ohhhh, here it comes, Jim!"
With every ounce of strength left in his body, Tyson pulled Nico up to his feet and went for the Lawbreaker clothesline. Shockingly, Nico ducked under and countered with a direct kick to the groin. To the jeers of the crowd, he lifted Tyson up, planting him with a second To The Gods. Even as the ref dropped to a knee for the pin, though, Nico refused to go for the cover. Shaking his head, instead, he waggeda finger at the ref before picking Tyson up by his hair and setting him up again.
Reynolds: "Are you fucking serious? He's gonna go for it again?!"
Indeed, Nico lifted Tyson up, driving him down with a THIRD To The Gods before finally going for the cover, scoring the pinfall at 26:43.
Hanson: "MY GOD, WHAT A MATCH!"
Reynolds: "I hope everyone backstage was watching, because they have a lot to live up to! Welcome, again, to Reckoning Day and this crowd is on their feet for both men!"
After getting his arm raised, Nico yanks his arm away from the ref and turns to look at Tyson Law. After a moment, Tyson begins pulling himself up on the ropes to get to his feet.
Hanson: "Aw no, don't tell me. Nico, it's over. You won! No more!"
Nico takes a step towards Tyson as he manages to maintain his balance on his feet, staring right back at his opponent...as Nico slowly offers our a handshake with an amused smile. We can't hear him per say but we can read his lips as he speaks to Tyson.
"Good shit, paisano...good shit! That's what I fuckin' wanted! Way to bring it!"
Hanson: "Jimmy, am I going crazy or is Nico Salvatore actually *complimenting* Tyson Law?"
Reynolds: "I can hardly believe it either, but yup! He's going for a handshake!"
Hanson: "I wouldn't trust him, though."
Obviously hesitant, Tyson Law limps two steps towards Nico and looks at his hand. Nico raises both hands submissively. We can see him mouthing.
"No tricks, man. I gotta hand it to you!"
He extends his hand again. Tyson slowly starts to reach out for the man's hand before something off camera, behind Nico, catches his eye. Tyson looks passed his opponent, confused and alarmed.
Hanson: "Wait, what's he-- oh my god! What the hell?!"
Cutting from the close up of Law and Salvatore to a wider shot of the ring, we see the masked assailant from the recent weeks standing on the apron at the corner. With his usual blue and red mask, he wears solid black. Long sleeves, jeans and his Converse sneakers. He just stands there at the apron, watching Law and Salvatore from the corner.
Hanson: "Jimmy, that's--"
Reynolds: "I know who it is, but what the hell is he doing here?"
Hanson: "I...who knows? He's not gonna try to take these two head on, is he?"
Reynolds: "Oh, I wanna see this shit. Get in the ring, asshole! I wanna see these boys beat your fucking ass!"
Hanson: "WAIT, A SEC! JIM, LOOK!!"
With both men in the ring distracted, a SECOND masked individual comes from the crowd. Also in all black and a mask of similar design to that of the assailants. This one, however, is dark purple with yellow for the trimming as well as the R logo on the forehead. The man in the purple mask blows right passed Tyson Law and hits Nico with a vicious chop block from behind. Tyson Law jumps back in alarm, raising his fists ready to go as the original assailant in the blue and red mask enters the ring quickly. Instead of making it a two on two, however, it becomes a two on one as both men hone in on Nico and begin stomping away at him.
Hanson: "What the hell, Jim?! They're going right after Nico!"
Reynolds: "It's like Tyson's not even a factor to them!"
Hanson: "First Mannheim and Pitt, Shelton Benjamin, Andrew Payne. We even saw Candi Brodeur allegedly attacked. Now, Nico Salvatore?! What the hell is going on?!"
Reynolds: "Why's Tyson just standing there?!"
Hanson: "I think he's just as confused as we are!"
After a moment of kicks and stomps, the man in the blue and red mask signals for the man in purple and yellow to get Nico up. He steps back, taking a stance as Nico is pulled to his knees.
Hanson: "Oh no, what's he---"
*WHACK*
Reynolds: "SUPERKICK!"
A superkick that sends Nico right back down into a heap. They weren't finished, yet, apparently as the man in the blue and red mask seemed to goad his colleague on into getting in something of his own on their target. With a fist bump to his partner, the man in the purple and yellow mask pulled Nico up to his feet, hooking an arm around his neck in a set up for a reverse Flatliner. With a spit to Nico's face, he followed through with the move, driving him face first into the canvas.
Hanson: "THAT'S JUST DESPICABLE! SPITTING IN A MAN'S FACE LIKE THAT, AND FOR WHAT?!"
Getting to his feet, the man with the purple and yellow mask high fives his partner in the blue and red. The latter finally moves forward, picking Nico up again.
Hanson: "Jesus Christ, no more! He just had a match, for goodness' sake!"
Reynolds: "Who the fuck are these guys, Nicky?! Wait, what's this asshole doing now?"
Back in the ring, the man in the blue and red mask set Nico up with his arms hooked behind his back. He lifts Nico up and DRILLS him head first into the mat with a double underhook piledriver.
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD!!"
Finally, the two masked man turn towards Tyson Law, who still stood with his hands up and ready.
Reynolds: "Oh NOW they're gonna move on Tyson! Couple of damn hyenas!"
Rather than move in for an attack, however, the one in the red and blue mask reached back under his shirt and pulled a black t-shirt, hanging from his back pocket...and tossed it to Tyson. Slowlu, Tyson opens it up to reveal a giant 'R' logo on the front. He looks up at the two in confusion. The man in the blue and red mask begins making gestures, pointing to Tyson and gesturing to himself and his partner. The man in the purple and yellow mask opens out his arms in a welcoming gesture before tapping his temple as if to say 'think about it' before the two turn and leave the ring, exiting up the ramp.
Hanson: "What the hell? They want Tyson to join them?"
Reynolds: "Whaaaaat the heeeeeeell, Nicky? I don't get any of this!"
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As we have seen before ... the camera pans to a backstage area where a light is swinging around from the ceiling.. and and man appears.. its Ryan..Steele. "Hi. I'm Ryan Steele.. my enemies should be fore warned.... I'm the last one you'll never want to mess with.... I've only got one thing on my mind.. and that is total and utter destruction..."
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"Apocalypta! Yo! You around, girl?" The voice of Chris Wolfe sounded concerned. Maybe even afraid. Certainly far from the typical cocky swagger it usually held. Skull makeup freshly painted on his face, the young man knocked on the door to the Circle of Snakes' locker room. "We need to talk! You in there?"
In the middle of the next set of knocks, the door swings open and Chris finds himself face to face with the Women’s Champion. Her makeup looking freshly applied as well, but still in semi-street clothes of a tanktop and jeans. All black.
As soon as she identifies who it is, her intimidating demeanor softens and her shoulders relax. “Hey Chris...what’s up?”
"Just checking on you." He said, subtly looking from side to side. "We're targets now. We gotta watch out for each other. Big Man's with Abaddon right now, Tyler's being all ninja-like, trying to keep an eye out for anyone trying to find us."
“I haven’t seen nor heard anything...yet.” The intimidating yet surprisingly very feminine touch to the Circle of Snakes leans against the door frame with her arms folded. “It’s as if they’ve ghosted since last week but...don’t let your guard down.” In a rare moment of ‘softness’ one might call it, Apocalypta sighs. “Chris, this is bad. I knew Blackheart wasn’t exactly gonna take this sitting down but *this*? I know these guys. I grew up around them. The only one of this bunch that never made me feel creeped out, being around them as a kid was....” She falls silent and lowers her head. It’s obvious which member of the Dominion she’s speaking of. Apocalypta sucks in a breath through her teeth. One might think she was close to crying.
“That little bitch...I swear on the ground I walk on, her career is over after I finish Silver tonight. She had no goddamn right to pull him into this!”
"Just... stay focused." He told her, the look on his face saying it all: the Dominion's plan was already working. They were all acting paranoid, angry, rattled... everything but confident. "Seriously... we're playing right into their hands, girl. They're beating us before we even get into the ring with them."
Looking up, Apocalypta turned to Chris with that cold, calculated expression slowly coming back go her face. “That’s how they win. They *want* us to be afraid. But we need to show them we’re not. For example...they think little Blackheart is safe because we’re afraid of repercussions.” She pushes off of the door frame and comes to stand directly in front of Chris Wolfe.
“We need to show them that this isn’t their era. Not anymore. We...” She gestures between Chris and herself, not forgetting about the other, non present members, of course, “...run this place. We’re the snakes...this is our den. All they are...are just a bunch of big rats looking for scraps and a warm place.” Upon closer positioning, it’s almost surprising to see Apocalypta standing shorter than anybody but she looks up at Wolfe with a grin, made eerie by her contact lenses.
“What’s the one thing I always say when another group came into the indies, just before we made our jump here?” She holds up a hand for him to clasp. “The bigger the rat....”
"The better the feast, y'all..." He laughed, taking her hand in a show of unity. Before he could say anything else, they were cut off by the sudden appearance of Abaddon, Belphegor walking silently behind him. "Both of you. Be prepared. This must be our night. We will not allow the Dominion to ruin the night in which The Circle of Snakes truly takes over NFW. Apocalypta will retain her title, Grey & Wolfe will become the first NFW Tag Team Champions..." He glared up at Belphegor, "And *I* will become the NFW World Heavyweight Champion."
Upon their arrival, Apocalypta briefly bows her head to Abaddon before lifting her gaze to focus on him and his words. “None of us will fail you, master. This *is* our territory. And tonight, we *will* make examples out of our opposition.” Here, she narrows her eyes, looking to the camera. “We know you’re watching...Judas...Buzzsaw...Sabre...LeeAnn...father....” She says the last word with a sense of betrayal in her tone. “But we hope you’re paying attention.... Welcome...to the *new* New Frontier....” Apocalypta tilts her head, half grinning, half sneering. “...We have such sights to show you....”
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The shot fades in on a dark room where we see a pair of hands wrapped in black fighter’s tape. They belong to someone sitting at a desk with a sheet of old paper laid upon it. One of the hands writes hastily with an old fashioned ink quill. Every few seconds, the quill is dipped into a cup of ink to keep the writing fresh. As we watch, the voice of the man begins reciting in half-effort old English. “Abaddon, Abaddon...oh Abaddon. Thou art a fool if thou thinketh ye will be surpassing me into the final round of the prestigious tournament for the prestigious World Championship.... No.” The hand with the pen crosses out a line. “I repeated the same word too soon.”
The quill is dipped again and continues writing. “Thou beith a fool if thou believe thyself valiant enough to defeat me in our fated battle for the final spot.” A movement from the empty hand accidentally knocks the ink cup over onto the paper, causing a black stain to cover the paper. “Agh! Oops!” Quickly, the cup, paper and quill are tossed away as the camera pans up to reveal Vincent Stone. Dressed in his ring gear and new t-shirt baring half of his painted face and half of Rosemary’s with the words ‘Mommy’s Little Nutjob’, he grins big into the camera.
“Oh, there you are Abaddon!” He laughs excitedly...deranged. “I was just trying to write you a little ballad about our match tonight! Mother’s been trying to teach me how to express myself more soooo, I thought I’d try it through poetry! BUT!” He claps his hands once and throws them up beside his head. “Where’s the fun in that?! I’d much rather express myself the way I do best....” His fingers curl as he brings them in front of his face. “My instruments of destruction. And tonight...I’m gonna play some music. Sweet...glorious...music. We have an entire hive waiting to hear the song of your demise! I call the song, Abaddon’s Bane. Or maybe...” he taps a finger to his chin and looks up in thought. “I don’t know... maybe Bane of Abaddon has a better ring to it? I’ll decide after I finish the composition.”
He looks back at the camera, grinning wide and eerily. “You just make sure you bring your earbuds...because with you being right up there on the stage...each bass note is gonna blow you away...hahahaha. Boom....” He punches a fist into one hand with each repetition. “Boom...Boom...BOOM!!” His laugh escalates into a maniacal cackle as static begins to take over the screen before the words ‘HANDS OF DECAY’ appear in dripping green and yellow. Fade out.
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In the first semi-final match for the World Heavyweight Championship tournament, Abaddon defeated Vincent Stone with an Impaler DDT after 16:04, to advance into the finals match.
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With his theme music in the background, Adam Cole stands in his ring gear and jacket in front of a RECKONING DAY backdrop; his coveted Silver Mountain Championship on his shoulder. For once, he looks more serious than smug.
“Well, here we are Rick; New Frontier Wrestling’s first pay per view. Reckoning Day! You ready? I know I am. I’ve been ready since you decided to stick your nose where it didn’t belong; running in on my matches, blowing smoke out your ass about how it’s *you* who’s gonna be the one to knock me off of the top of the mountain.” He cracks a smirk. “Like that one?” His smirk drops. “This is the night, Rick. This is the night that I shut that big, stupid mouth of yours for good! Now, I don’t know what’s going through that empty nutshell in a head of yours, talking Steven Brody into booking that walking joke, El Pico De Gallo - whatever the fuck - as the referee for our match. That little bitch gets on my nerves just as much as you do, maybe even more! And with this being a street fight? You just may have motivated me enough to consider him collateral damage in our war. Anything happens to that idiot? That’s on you, Rick. I hope you understand that.”
He gestures to the title on his shoulder. “This...isn’t going anywhere except back on my shoulder at the end of the night. Tonight, Rick...Reckoning Day...you get one last shot.” He raises his index finger. “And after I’m done beating some sense into that thick, empty skull of yours, I’m gonna take *my* Last Shot.” He smirks again. “I just hope Pinché knows how to count to three when I pin your sorry ass to end this once and for all. Then as your lying there on the mat, staring up at the lights, wondering ‘what the fuck was I thinking’ the last words you’re gonna hear, ringing in your ears will be ‘your winner and STILL reigning and defending Silver Mountain Champion, ADAM COLE BAY-BAY!!” Fingers on one hand go up as he pauses in that pose for a few seconds before lowering his arm. “See you in the ring.” He walks off camera as the shot fades out.
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"You have got me VERY confused right now, Mia."
Lara Blackheart walked into view of the camera, arms crossed over her chest and a look of subdued anger etched on her otherwise adorable face.
"You've been coming out here for weeks. Humiliating me. Embarrassing me. Hurling vile insults at not only my dead father, but my completely innocent mother, who never did a damn thing but support and care for you."
She scoffed, obviously seething with a need for revenge.
"And then last week, when your new pal decided to flip out and attack me, you come running in to "save" me and calm her down. And you were being sooooo sweet to her. Making everything seem so 'real'. Cool. Fine. You wanna be real? Let's be real, Mia."
The camera pans away, revealing Lara's full body. She wore her original wrestling outfit, of tiny red shorts and a tied-off black tee with the words "SMALL BUT MIGHTY" on it.
"This is how most people remember us. Small But Mighty. The cute, tiny team that everyone loved. Some even know us by the knowledge that you trained with me under my father. But let's get REALLY real, hon. Let's tell people the BIIIIIG reason your betrayal cut me so deeply. It's no secret that I'm a bit of a party girl. And that I don't exactly discriminate by gender when it comes to who I get down with. But you.... you were my first. My first EVERYTHING. You had my heart in her hands for years, and at the first chance to get ahead, you crushed it. You pretended to like me, pretended to LOVE me, all while fucking me just long enough to get yourself a career."
She made a show of tearing the t-shirt off of her body, to show she now wore a Vlad Blackheart memorial shirt.
"Tonight... I'm going to burn our past the way you've burnt every bridge we ever had. People think of me as this sweet, delicate girl... but they're going to be shocked tonight. Because tonight, Im going to bring you a level of violence you've never even SUSPECTED I was capable of. I am going to leave you in a puddle of your own blood, and make DAMN sure you never have my family's name on your lips again. Enjoy the next few minutes, Mia. They're the last you'll ever spend in perfect health."
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Prior to the start of the match, the ring announcer stood in the center of the ring with the microphone in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, before we introduce the competitors, I have been asked by Commissioner Steven Brody to inform everyone that an additional stipulation has been added. In exchange for Lara Chastain not pressing charges against for her assault, she has therefore requested and hence been granted...that this next match will be a NO DISQUALIFICATION MATCH!!"
Reynolds: "WOOOOOOOOW!!!! Another No DQ?! This night's getting better already!"
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To call the match a fight, even, was an understatement. It was absolute war between Lara Blackheart and Mia Hayashi. From the starting bell, Lara backed up her words, absolutely unloading on her former friend with vicious strikes. Halfway through the match, the two began wrestling over control for a chair where Lara came out as the one weilding it, by shoving Mia back into the ropes. Mia bounced back off of the ropes, stumbling and *WHAM* right into a vicious shot right to the head, immediately busting her open.
Blood poured from her forehead, onto the mat, as it covered her entire face within moments. From there, her offense severely dwindled as she found it hard to stand. Lara simply continued her assault until deciding to end the match, hitting the Coma White on Mia upon a stack of chairs, for the pinfall at 12:55.
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The scene opens up with the camera pans to a front door to a high dollar house and a man and a lady come out of the door.. And its a pair of familiar faces... Hi my name is Clarence Fletcher Townsend and this is my lady Victoria Emmerson.. and we are coming to NFW very, very soon....because like my idol used to say...
"EVERYONE HAS A PRICE"........
"EVERYONE HAS A PRICE"........
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Sitting in a half burned rocking chair, amongst the ashes of her former home, Rosemary sits rocking, talking to herself as the camera focuses. “We feel it has been a long time coming. We feel apologetic to you Candi Brodeur. We should have been paying attention to you. Regardless, we have beaten you each time we have faced. We think this time will be no different.
We have a different thing to talk about for a few moments. We have not see our son since Erin Mercer burned down our house. Son, we are sure you’re confused, just remember one thing, she tried to destroy you too.
She tried to burn down all your accomplishments around you. She stole from us…. and we will get it all back.
She rocks some in the chair and tapping the side of her head.
Back to the reason for our talk, Candi. You can thank your friend Erin, for what we are go9ing to do to you. For the pain we shall inflict on you. Can you hear the drums? Can’t you hear it.
She taps the rocking chair arm with her right hand. Tap <pause> Tap <pause> Tap
The drums of war have started, the rhythm has begun, the drums of war match our heartbeat. You will bleed candi, you will burn, and when all said and done, we have a surprise for you. Will it be the cattle proud, the handcuffs, the brand? We know, but if we tell you, it will spoil the surprise. So you will have to wait.
Getting up out of the chair, she moves over to the camera, slowly. Tapping three times on the camera in rapid succession. Turning her head to the side and back again.
It is the drums that bothers us the most. Because it is a painstaking reminder of what we have to do to you, because Erin got in the way. Your friend, Erin, ruined this for you, and for us, and for our son Vincent. For that we have to send her another message, apparently. So, we will use t you to send that message, you have been warned. When we set you on fire, don’t blame us, don’t blame yourself either, you’re not in our league. Blame Erin. This, is, all, her fault.
She taps the glass in the camera with her right hand. Tap <pause> Tap <pause> Tap and then it goes to static and the words Decay turns to S.O.S.
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*A hand being taped up fills the screen. The white tape is drawn slowly around, between fingers, and then pulled taught. The action continues, as the distinct voice of Rick Dickulous can be heard - his usually light demeanor noticeably less so*
"Adam. Fucking. Cole."
*The camera zooms out to show John Cherry meticulously inspecting and adjusting the tape. He looks at Rick*
"Ya know, bud, what you gotta do is get into those corners and dig hard. Nobody likes a guy who goes into them corners and doesn't give'r, know what I mean, tough guy?"
"Don...I appreciate you trying to motivate me, guy, but I'm already motivated enough. It's like I'm goin' a hundred clicks an hour in a 50 zone. Know what that gets ya in Ontario? It gets your fuckin' car impounded and a hefty fine for street racing."
*John looks at Rick with a confused look*
"Rick, you DO know Don's my brother, right? I'm John Cherry. I know they sound similar and all. Don was a coach, I was a trainer."
*Rick shoots John a quick glance*
"You think I don't know Don Cherry when I see hi--"
"No. I really don't, Rick. I really, really don't. Y'know what? Call me whatever you want. What matters is you going out there tonight and getting that W. This is what you came to do, so show everyone what a real champion looks like."
*Rick nods*
"Don, friend...that's exactly what I had planned. I mean, if I flapped my pie hole as much as Cole does about how great he is, what kind of role model would I be, eh? He's had this coming; murdering Anne was the last straw. He told me I should know who I'm fucking with, but what he doesn't know is that right now he may as well be fighting a kodiak who got stung in the nuts by a wasp....repeatedly."
*John winces*
"First, that sounds uncomfortable. Second, where do you come up with these analogies?"
*Rick smiles*
"Saw it happen once. Stupid bear went for what he thought was a beehive hanging from a tree. Turned out to be a wasp's nest. It wasn't pretty, at all. Much the same as I'm planning to leave Adam Cole's face tonight...ugly enough to scare shit off the back of a shovel. Know what I'm sayin', guy?"
"As ugly as my ex wife? We had to tie a milk bone around her neck to get the dog to play with her."
*Rick nods*
"Exactly, Don."
*John begins taping Rick's other hand*
"Look, truth be told, Rick, I believe in you. The fans believe in you. The only person who doesn't right now is Adam Cole. I'll have you ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail, and then? Then you go out there and you take what's yours. This is YOUR night, Rick."
"It is, friend...tonight Cole learns you don't poke the bear unless you're looking to take a dirt nap. Tonight is the night that this ends - Cole has no idea what's about to hit him, eh?"
*John smiles as he pulls the tape taught again*
"No, Rick. He absolutely doesn't. Last time I saw this side of you, you just finished smacking around an entire opposing hockey team, referee squad, timekeeper, and goal judges...and you were only 15."
"Yeah, and they learned their lesson, didn't they? I wish I had my line then. It would've been epic to look at the pile and say: Sorry, not sorry!"
*John rips the tape and secures it to Rick's wrist*
"Well, tonight you can. Tonight. You. Can."
*John pats Rick on the shoulder*
"Go get 'im, kid. I'll be here when you're done..."
*Rick clenches and opens his fists, working the tape in before standing up. He claps his hands together and shoots finger guns at John*
"Don't wait up for me, Don, I have the feeling this is gonna be a looooong night for Adam Fucking Cole."
*Rick walks off as John Cherry watches, shaking his head. He quietly mutters to himself*
"Give'r, kid. Give'r."
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Throughout the match for the Silver Mountain Championship, Rick Dickulous and Adam Cole absolutely brutalized one another. In addition to their actual wrestling arsenal, they took full advantage of the Street Fight stipulation and hit one another with practically everything they could get their hands on. Both men were busted open within minutes. For the most part, El Piso Mojado - the special referee - stood back and let the two just lay into each other. His pinfall counts, however, were noticeably biased. While Adam Cole was the one who went for the most attempts, it was easy to notice that Piso's counts were drastically slow, causing Cole to grow more and more frustrated.
Finally, near the end, Cole got to his feet and in Piso's face, mouthing. "What are you doing?! You fucking idiot! Count faster!"
In the end, as Cole waited for Rick to get up, poised for his Superkick alternate finisher, the crowd erupted into a pop as Mannheim and Pitt came running down towards the ring. This time, however, the two were wearing their old ring gear.
Reynolds: "What the hell, Nicky! Is that...?!"
Hanson: "Ohhhhhh man, this looks all too familiar right here, Jimmy! Talk about a throwback!"
In the ring, as soon as Adam Cole turns around to see what's going on, he's leveled by Pitt with a big boot to the face. Pitt then lifts him up for he and Mannheim to deliver a perfectly executed TRIP TO HELL! Rick Dickulous went in for the cover, where El Piso Mojado dropped down and made a MUCH faster count, ending the match at 18:11.
*William Mannheim picks up the Silver Mountain Championship from the announcer's table, grabbing a microphone at the same time. He slides under the ropes and to Rick Dickulous' side. Mannheim lifts Rick up and hands him the belt with a smile and a fatherly hug. Rick's bloodstained hands leave smears across the faceplate. Mannheim raises Rick's hand, and lifts the mic and speaks in a Micheal Buffer ripoff voice*
"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and NEW Silver Mountain Champion....RICK DICKULOUS!!"
*The crowd pops as Rick plays the crowd, though he is in obvious pain, blood caked on his face and in his beard*
"I'm sure a lot of you saw this coming, but if not, let me fill you in. See, Piso has something in common with Pitt, Rick, and myself...it turns out he's Canadian too! Yeah, he's a Mexican Mennonite - no shit! Look that up!"
*El Piso Mojado nods and points exaggeratedly at Mannheim comically before showing two thumbs up*
"See, I've been working on putting something together for the last while. Us Canadians, when a blizzard's coming, we bundle the fuck up. We group together and we bitch about it, and we all dream of a nice, beautiful place where it's just right all year round."
*Pitt, Piso, and Rick nod at Mannheim*
"Well, there's definitely a storm brewin around here. We've got the Dominion of Pain back in business..."
*The crowd cheers for the returned veterans*
"There's the McKeesport Mafia..."
*Another rousing cheer erupts from the stadium seats*
"And then, there's the Circle of Snakes..."
*A near deafening boo fills the building*
"So, now? Now Pitt and I are putting the tag division on notice. Rick here has the Silver Mountain division on notice. Piso has the Cruiserweight division on notice."
"HAIL....TO THE KING!"
As his music begins to play, the crowd pops as Scott Leroux walks out onto the stage, wearing a variation of his old Team Canada tights, but altered to fit this new group. With him walks young Kennedy Campbell, wearing a Maple Leafs baby tee with red and white camo cargo pants, slung dangerously low on her hips. The two make their way down the aisle, with Kennedy holding the ropes for Leroux to enter.
The moment he enters the ring, Leroux walks right over to Mannheim, staring at his old rival for a few moments, before shaking his hand and giving him a brotherly hug.
"All things were made to end. Including rivalries. For years, me and Big Willy did everything in our power to tear each other apart. But years can not only mature a man... they can also change the way you see things. When I look at Willy now? I see a bad-ass man. One who marches to the beat of his own drummer, never giving two shits about what anyone else thinks. And one who, like myself, prides himself on being Canadian. And when I met Kennedy here.... I saw that same fire, that same pride... in the new generation. And when Willy and Pitt came to talk to me... it all fell together. Bridging eras. Building camaraderie. Watching each other's backs. All in the name of Canadian Pride. So tonight.... after I become the new NFW World Heavyweight Champion... the era of The Great White North begins. Kennedy will bring us the Women's Title. Piso will bring us the Cruiserweight Title. And these two silly bitches..." He jerks a thumb toward Willy and Pitt, "will bring us the World Tag Team Titles. Bring this motherfucker home, Big Willy Style."
*Mannheim looks around the ring at all the others*
"We do what Canadians do. Stick together through the storm...and that's how we get through in one piece. The Great White North."
*They all high five in the centre of the ring before sliding out one by one and heading up the ramp as a group, the crowd going absolutely insane*
Hanson: "WHAT AN ALLIANCE!!"
Reynolds: "I don't get it, Nicky...."
Hanson: "What's not to get?"
Reynolds: "Great White North? But Piso's not even---"
Hanson: "I'm gonna stop you right there, Jim. Not another word.'
Reynolds: "But--"
Hanson: "JIM!!"
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The camera cuts to Candi Broduer, sitting alone on a bench in the locker room, holding her head. She's already changed into her wrestling gear, but rather than looking psyched to end this mini-feud with Rosemary... she looks depressed. Defeated. Despondent.
"How did it come to this?" She asked seemingly nobody, sitting up straight before leaning back against the wall. "Fifteen years ago, I was just starting in this industry. I had a mentor that was respected around the world, I was a prime part of one of the most elite stables in all of wrestling. Eventually? I became the youngest Women's World Champion in history."
She sighed, before spinning around and punching a nearby locker as hard as she could.
"But when Team Canada split up.... it was like a snowball effect. Everyone went their separate ways. Chris.... well.... for legal reasons I can't really talk about Chris. I was suddenly a woman without a purpose. Without direction. Without friends. And look at me now."
She gave a sad smile, holding her arms out.
"There's a whole new generation of female wrestlers now, allllll trying to make a name for themselves. To be the best. And what am I doing? Wrestling a garbage match where someone has to be set on fire. The worst part is how badly I was basically pushed into this. Rosemary.... you're nuttier than a fruitcake, but I have nothing personal at ALL against you. Hell, I think you're a total bad-ass. But management made me feel like if I didn't pursue this 'feud', well... they just had nothing else for me."
"This has to end. It has to end NOW. I'll go out there tonight. I'll fight Rosemary. And one of us will be set on fire. But afterwards? Never again. Never again will I allow myself to be bought out like some cheap whore. Management won't have to "find something" for me. Because I will be doing whatever it takes to make sure I'm in that spotlight. That I'M the one people are yearning to feud with again. That once again... Candi 'The Crippler' Broduer is a name that brings respect and fear with it. So go take your camera, and find someone else to pester. The time for talking.... is over."
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Under an eerie red light, Candi Brodeur and Rosemary finally unleashed weeks of frustration -- spurned from different sources -- on each other. While people expected the brutality and savage offense from Rosemary, they were surprised to see an angrier, more aggressive side of Candi Brodeur.
After multiple struggles and attempts to push each other towards the flames, a close call came for both of them as Candi clotheslined Rosemary over the top rope. Rosemary hit the floor and Candi stepped back at the same time, just as the flames shot upwards.
Reynolds: "WHOA!"
Hanson: "God, that was close. I don't like this, Jim."
Reynolds: "Well, Rosemary's outside. How the hell is she gonna get back in?"
Each time Rosemary stepped towards the ring, the flames shot up. The same went for Candi each time she stepped towards the turnbuckle, obviously trying to find a way out towards her opponent.
Then, as Rosemary took a step back to assess the situation, the crowd popped on their feet as ERIN MERCER came sprinting from backstage and jumped on Rosemary from behind with vicious strikes, starting a secondary brawl. While Mercer brought the fight to Rosemary, the Demon Assassin's rage fueled adrenaline proved to be just a little much and she began fighting back, until whipping Erin into the steel steps with a thunderous crash.
Meanwhile, inside the ring, something seemed to dawn on Candi and, pointing to the sky, the woman gave a very familiar throat cut taunt before running off the opposite ropes and -- in a dive styled after Chris Benoit's diving headbutt -- came soaring over the ropes and crashing onto Rosemary, bringing them down to the floor. Outside the ring, their fight continued until the two engaged in an exchange of strikes, back and forth. Goading the other on to hit them harder than they hit the other. Shortly after, however, when goading Candi into going for another strike, Rosemary quickly caught her in the jaw with an elbow, staggering her. Next, Rosemary planted her foot against Candi'd midsection and shoved her back hard into the ring apron, right into the flames!! Stepping away from the ring, the crowd and announcers alike were horrified to see Candi's entire back ablaze, granting Rosemary the victory after 28:03. The woman thrashing, screaming in pain as the bell rang and EMTs ran in to hose her down with a fire extinguisher.
Rosemary wasn't finished yet, however, as she scooped Candi up onto her shoulders and hit the Red Wedding right onto the outside mat. While the EMTs tried to get to Candi and administer first aid, Rosemary bent down over Candi, offering her hand with a demented smile. She could be seen mouthing "join us...SISTER!" Before anyone else could say anything, however, Erin Mercer had gotten back to her feet and was jumping on Rosemary again, resuming their brawl into the crowd and towards the back as EMTs tended to Candi.
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The second semi-final match for the World Title tournament...never actually happened. As Scott Leroux was making his entrance after Belphegor, the monster from the Circle of Snakes attacked him in the corner. Rather than ringing the bell, the referee spent the entire time trying to break them apart. Belphegor shoved the referee back, however, and followed through with not one...not two...not even three...but FOUR powerbombs to Scott Leroux before tossing him out of the ring.
Following after him, the man picked up his dazed opponent and slung him like a rag doll into the steel steps, knocking the top half off. As Scott Leroux lied there, trying to catch his wind, Belphegor lifted up the top half of the steps and brutally brought them down onto Scott's ribs. One...two...three times. Here, the bell finally rang, as the ref called for it. At that, Belphegor stepped back as if the bell were some kind of signal....
"Ladies and gentlemen." The ring announcer began. "I have just been informed by the referee, that due to the brutality of the attack by Belphegor, this match will be ruled as a disqualification. Therefore, your winner...and second finalist for the World Title Tournament...the Tapout King...SCOTT...LEROUX!!"
Reynolds: "That's all fine and dandy but how's he gonna compete against Abaddon?! He just got fucking wrecked! Goddamn these Circle of Snakes motherfuckers!"
Hanson: "I can't help but think that this is part of Abaddon's agenda, Jimmy...."
Reynolds: "You know...you're right. If Scott can't compete, Abaddon's got that championship in the bag. Son of a BITCH!!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She’d done it before, but it seemed as though the lovely people in NFW hadn’t paid attention to Shelley’s old videos, so she could do it again. Armed with only a bow staff, Shelley stood blindfolded in the middle of a group of four large men. This had become the way that she trained for matches against whiny heels with friends that were likely to attack her. She knew that Apocalypta and the Circle would be no different from the others. Groups like this always acted like they were a new concept, but Shelley knew otherwise.
The camera panned around as everyone stood in silence for a few moments until it landed on Sloane Cameron. A wicked grin crept across her face as she held up one arm and shouted out “and in three, two… one,” and dropped her arm to signal to the men that it was time to start attacking Shelley. From the very first strike, barely any landed onto Shelley’s body. Five minutes went on before each of the four men submitted and took a knee. Shelley slowed down, noticing that she wasn’t fighting anyone anymore and took off her mask and blindfold.
“Damn,” one of the men could be heard huffing and puffing in the background.
The camera then panned over to a large, dark haired tattooed man, chuckling. “Now you know why I don’t go against her anymore.”
Shelley walked over to him and grinned, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ve gotten weak since you took over the tribe, big brother.”
Johnny Silver shook his head as he watched his friends walk up the stairs to leave Shelley’s basement and outside to ironically cool off in the May sun. “This is some favor your doing while you’re working on reshoots for your new movie.”
“I know,” Shelley sighed, “I never expected to get into singles competition while working with New Frontier.”
“And now you’re up for the women’s championship,” Sloane smirked.
Shelley tilted her head, “I’ve never had one of those before.”
“Never too soon to start,” Johnny smiled as he went outside to join his friends.
“That Apocalypta is a real piece of work, huh?” Sloane turned to her client.
Shelley sighed, “but you and I both know that we’ve seen it all before.”
“But you’re ready this time,” Sloane reminded her.
“I really thought that I had Annabelle, I would have beaten Jessica,” Shelley frowned.
“They’re two sides of the same coin, Shel,” Sloane reminded her. “The Wolfe’s can claim that it’s a multiple personality situation all they want. DID typically has more than two personalities.”
“I don’t know, Sloane,” Shelley sighed, “they were even slightly physically different.”
“Either way, you completely demolished Olivia Saint on your way out of EWC,” Sloane grinned. “You proved *that* transformation was a joke.”
Shelley scowled at the mention of Olivia’s name, “her betrayal still stings. Gabreal knew I would have seriously slaughtered her if he had let me. That’s why he threw in the towel for her.”
“Have you heard from any of them since that night?” Sloane inquired.
Shelley shook her head, “maybe a nod in my direction from Mark, but Ace hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to keep me updated with what’s going on in EWC. Not that I’ve really asked for any updates.”
“But you’re going to his gym soon, right?” Sloane raised an eyebrow.
“Some nubile eighteen-year-old won a contract with EWC, and got to choose who trains her. She chose Ace. So naturally I have to go down there and check things out,” Shelley shrugged.
Sloane motioned to the camera, “does your new friends at NFW know that you are engaged?”
Shelley smiled, “I guess they do now. I don’t exactly wear my ring while I’m at work. I guess that I should say a few more things about my upcoming match with Apocalypta, though.” She paused, taking a breath as she looked to the camera. “You see, sweetheart, I told you that you made a mistake by getting yourself involved this this. In reality, this should really be just about Laura and Mia (I’m bad with names, if I got it wrong, please change it for me.), I’m only here because Laura is an old friend, and I am loyal to my friends. I came to New Frontier Wrestling to make sure that things didn’t get out of hand and to protect my young friend.”
The camera followed Shelley as she walked over to her promo space in the other side of her basement and sat down in her director’s style chair. “You see Apocalypta, this isn’t about the title for me. Never was. I didn’t think that I would be in line for the Women’s Championship when I signed my contract for the company, but here I am.” She shrugged, crossing her legs slowly, “as you may know, the title isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities here. That will just be a grand bonus to just completely wiping the mat with you. And I know that I will do just that?” Shelley smiled confidently. “Because you doubt me. You underestimate me. You just think that because I am also in movies, that I can’t possibly be that good of a wrestler. But you see… that is exactly how I got so far previously in my career. You doubt me, you hold back, you pay the price. Lather, rinse, repeat.”
Shelley waved her hand, having grown tired of the subject. “That isn’t going to stop me from being there, though. Madison Square Garden. I’ve been there before. Two years ago I went against Jonathan Thomas Cross, good ol’ JTC in a Hardcore match and won. That was just one in a series of matches where I went up against just about every male on Friday Night Rampage and came out on top of them all. Almost always had the same thing to say about all of them, and yet every single last one of them fell at my feet after hitting them with the Sundown. It was lights out for them, and come Sunday night, it’s going to be lights out for you, Apocalypta. Enjoy that title while you still can.” Shelley winked and blew a kiss at the camera before it faded out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shot opens on a wall inside a locker room baring various photos of NFW veterans. The center piece is the original House Of Payne, all carrying some semblance of wrestling gold. A broad arm tattooed with a Punisher skull made to look like it’s resting behind torn flesh passes by the shot, obscuring the photo for a second.
Panning back, the camera reveals Andrew Payne. Mostly dressed in his ring gear; the top of his leotard around his waist as he wraps his hands in black tape. While he looks cold and serious as usual, there’s an energetic air about him as he paces back and forth. There’s a hunger in his eyes and a fire in his steps.
“How long’s it been, man?” He asks his tag partner Big Daddy Payne. “How long since we got a shot at honest to god tag team gold that was worth something?”
"Twelve years, brother. Twelve long years." Big Daddy Payne replied, pulling a black armband with the letters "E.G." in gold around his right bicep. He looked at his longtime friend and partner with a knowing smirk. "Whattya say, bud... we got one more good run in us?"
"Twelve years, brother. Twelve long years." Big Daddy Payne replied, pulling a black armband with the letters "E.G." in gold around his right bicep. He looked at his longtime friend and partner with a knowing smirk. "Whattya say, bud... we got one more good run in us?"
"Damn. You almost gotta feel for these morons." BDP agreed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean granted: you two didn't technically do anything. But the fact that you even pal around with Abaddon? Jesus fucking Christ on a scooter, son... you think The Dominion cares about the semantics of who did what? Sure, your leader's gonna get the absolute ass-beating of a lifetime, but trust me: they are going to make every one of you sorry you ever sided with this guy."
He quickly lost the amused look though, turning back to the camera. "But boys... you better forget about the Dominion for tonight. Because we may be older, and we may be slower... but trust me when I tell you that we are still the toughest motherfuckers you will EVER face in that ring. If you want even a chance of beating us... we better have your full attention. Because we are laser fucking focused on leaving that ring tonight the new NFW Tag Team Champions."
The only thing the Punisher had left to say, was as he clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder and leaned in beside him. “NON FACCIAMO!!”
BDP returned the gesture, growling the rest of their mantra: "ALTRO.... VINTO."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ladder for the match for the N*FW Tag Team Championships was every bit of exciting that social media speculated it to be. A tornado tag brawl that saw both teams laying into each other with everything they had. BDP and Andrew Payne had the obvious power advantage but Tyler Grey and Chris Wolfe matched it with their agility and technique. Several attempts to climb the ladder saw the competitors countering with devastating high spots. Tyler Grey countered an attempt by BDP, performing a Sunset Flip Powerbomb off of the ladder, and driving him through a table. A further attempt by him saw Andrew Payne grab him from behind off of the middle rung for a high angle 11th Hour, causing him to roll out of the ring.
Before Andy could even move towards the ladder, Chris Wolfe was in his face, driving him into the mat with the Direwolf. The crowd was on their feet, roaring their disapproval as Wolfe climbed the ladder and reached for the championship belts.
Reynolds: "He's got it within his grasp, Nicky! The Circle's gonna hold the tag team titles!"
Hanson: "Well, I can't say they didn't fight hard for it! This match has been off the wall since the first bell, holy hell."
Reynolds: "You can say that again, partner!"
Hanson: "HOLY HELL!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, I didn't mean---"
Hanson: "No, Jim! Look!! Watch out!"
Reynolds is almost knocked out of his chair as the Crimson Sabre, from the Dominion of Pain, comes leaping over the crowd barrier and runs up onto the ring apron. As Tyler Grey gets back to his feet, Sabre runs along the apron, coming off of it with a rolling senton, bringing the man back down.
Hanson: "IT'S THE DOMINION!!!! THEY'RE HERE!!! THEY *ARE* HERE!!!"
Reynolds: "WHERE THE HELL DID THEY COME FROM!!"
While Sabre was performing his dive, the crowd popped as Buzzsaw came sliding into the ring and yanked Chris Wolfe off of the ladder by his foot. Wolfe landed stumbling and dropped to a knee. Perfectly setting himself up for Buzzsaw's signature kick right upside the back of his head, bowling him forward onto the mat.
Hanson: "JUDAS LASHER SAID THAT THE CIRCLE WAS GONNA PAY FOR WHAT THEY DID!!!"
Reynolds: "AND THESE TWO ARE THE DELIVERERS OF JUSTICE!!"
Hanson: "What are they doing now?"
Inside the ring, Buzzsaw shook BDP, quickly helping him to his feet and pointing to the dangling belts before shoving Chris Wolfe out of the ring where he and Crimson Sabre continued their assault on the Circle of Snakes' tag team. Meanwhile, to the cheering audience, BDP climbed up the ladder and pulled down both championship belts, officially crowning the McKeesport Mafia as the first N*FW Tag Team Champions.
Hanson: "THEY DID IT!!! THERE WAS A LITTLE INTERFERENCE, BUT THEY DID IT!!"
Reynolds: "You know, for once, I can't knock it. Justice is served!!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A video plays, beginning with the camera zooming in slowly on the visage of Apocalypta standing underneath a spotlight in an otherwise pitch black room. From behind, she is bare from the waist up, giving a full view of the menacing demon tattooed over her entire back. It’s really the only way we recognize her. Low, ominous music plays as her voice begins talking over the video.
“I’ve never been one of the ‘cool kids’....”
With a jarring cut, we see a typical group of school age girls laughing and gossiping with each other.
“Never really cared....”
Another jarring cut shows, while most kids play at recess on a playground, colorful dresses and bright jeans, a lone child representing the woman speaking, sits underneath the shade of a tree with her head down against her knees in darker, more tomboyish clothing. Her face obscured by her posture and her black hair acting like a concealing curtain.
“I was fine with being the one who got laughed at...teased...isolated...from everyone else....”
Jarring cut: a group of girls stand in a circle, laughing mockingly down at the camera, before running away from the girl under the tree.
“I didn’t need to be part of the crowd....”
Jarring cut: under the spotlight, Apocalypta lifts her head, still with her back to the camera.
“I had them....”
Quick flashes of three other girls. While younger, we recognize them as the faces of Marissa Payne, Morgan Payne and Lara Blackheart.
“We...had each other....”
Quick shot of a group photo of the four as young teens together. Next to Morgan Payne, recognized by her humorous grin and a Steelers skullcap, sits a fourth girl that can only be Apocalypta. Long black hair, knee length cut off cargo shorts and a baggy Otep t-shirt. She’s clearly the shyest in the photo as only her eyes are lifted to look at the camera. A small, content smile plays on her lips, however.
“To call us friends...that was an understatement....”
A quick cut shows an old recording of what appears to be a birthday party for a young Apocalypta. She sits at the head of the table in her usual garb as Lara Blackheart slips a party hat on her head. She grimaces, through laughter, as the girl then playfully smooches her cheek.
“We were family....”
Cut back to Apocalypta under the light. We focus on her hand by her side.
“Sisters....”
Another old recording shows the four at a beach (here, Apocalypta is distinguished by swimwear of black boys’ trunks and a sports bra. The girls are seen rough housing in knee deep water, performing various wrestling moves on one another - even hilariously selling each move.
“We shared a legacy....”
An old, overhead shot shows the original N*FW arena, ca. 2007. The crowd roars as a show opens with pyro and the announcer inaudibly welcomes everyone.
“We shared a common love....”
Quick shots of the four girls’ fathers:
Big Daddy Payne hits the Bukakke Blast on an opponent.
Andrew Payne lands the Art of Ruin on another.
Doomsday decimates someone with his old Atomic Bomb through a table.
Vlad Blackheart raises an arm to the crowd, smirking big, before soaring off the top of a steel cage.
Under the spotlight, the camera trails up the back of Apocalypta’s, toned, tattooed arm.
“A love that we all vowed to follow...together....”
Cut to old footage of the girls all taking turns training in a wrestling ring inside a gym.
“Together...we were supposed to carry on that legacy....”
A quick shot shows an old photo of the four side by side, leaning on and/or through the ropes, posing for the camera.
The zoom on the photo suddenly freezes on the four.
“But the only ones who I ever cared for...ever game a damn about...did the one thing that nobody else could do....”
The shot hard cuts to Apocalypta standing alone in a corner of the ring, gripping the ropes with her head down.
“They *hurt* me...!”
Cutting back to Apocalypta’s hand, under the light, as it clenches into a fist.
The next series of clips shows three of the four, Marissa, Morgan and Lara in their indie days, tearing it up in the ring. In between clips of each girl, we see the lone Apocalypta standing in the corner of the ring inside the dark, empty gym. Her hands grip the ropes tighter.
“They abandoned me....”
Jarring cuts show her circling the inside of the ring, at different points on the mat.
“They caused me a pain worse than anything you can ever imagine....”
Back under the spotlight, Apocalypta lowers her head again.
“But I persevered...I survived. I used that pain. I used...my rage!”
The footage abruptly cuts to Apocalypta during her indie days as she lays waste to various opponents inside the ring and outside of it. Several women are seen being on the receiving end of the MOAB and the Ground Zero, while others are knocked through barricades and put through announce tables. All to the resounding, ‘OHHHHH’ of the audience.
“I have fought...I have clawed... I have scraped my way to the top on a path more rough and jagged than *either* of them!”
Apocalypta’s hand unclenches and clenches again, even tighter.
“I am a one woman army....”
In another clip, Apocalypta lands the Ground Zero on another opponent.
“And NOBODY....”
An old indie clip shows another opponent moving out of the way of her MOAB spear only to have the woman end up leveling the opponent’s male partner in a mixed tag match.
Announcer: “That’s gotta be a broken rib, maybe more!”
The shot changes to her cracking the man over the head with a chair as he tries to stand moments later. It then switches to the female tag partner being Ground Zeroed right on top of the chair as it lays across him.
Announcer: “This woman’s a monster. An-absolute-monster!”
“...will survive my path...”
Back under the light, Apocalypta turns to start facing the camera. The shot quickly changes from a full back view (for obvious reasons) and focuses in on a close up of her painted face and white eyes.
“...of destruction....”
The shot fades completely to black.
Immediately, the shot fades back in to now, at Madison Square Garden. Backstage, the camera finds the Women’s Champion walking with her title in hand, on her way to the entrance ramp. Seconds into her walk, she is stopped bu a very timid and tentative Amy Connors.
“Umm...Apocalypta?”
The champion stops...and slowly turns to look at the woman. Amy shrinks back a little.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” She swallows. “I see you’re on your way to the ring where you will defend your N*FW Women’s Championship against Shelley Silver tonight. I was just hoping to umm...maybe ask for any last minute thoughts going through your head, right now....”
Apocalypta steps forward, looming over the 5’0 Amy before turning towards the camera. “Talk all you want, Silver...about backup...about my brothers. About my *true* family.... They have my back to the end...but tonight...it’s just you and me. The rat...and the serpent....”
Falling silent, Apocalypta continues on towards the ring, stepping off camera as Amy Connors looks on, silently.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the semi-main event, Shelley Silver and Apocalypta had a battle that rocked the entire arena with fan reactions. Power and strength aside, both wrestlers brought a spotlight down on women's wrestling. Surprisingly, rather than attacking Silver with sheer power like she normally did her opponents, Apocalypta initiated a traditional lock up after the opening bell which turned into a fast paced exchange of grappling and technical wrestling. Neither woman really gaining an advantage yet.
Hanson: "I gotta be honest, Jimmy, I thought this was gonna be just a brawl but this is looking like an actual wrestling match!"
Reynolds: "Why don't we have popcorn? I need some popcorn for this! YO, GARY!!"
We hear Reynolds pull his headset off and yell something to the ring announcer.
Hanson: "Did you seriously just ask him to bring you popcorn?"
Reynolds: "Sue me."
The match continued with each woman getting their respective advantages and stretches of momentum against the other. After a trade of of blows, the crowd jumped to their feet as Shelley Silver knocked Apocalypta to one knee with a hard elbow. Suddenly, she came off the ropes and took her down with the FALLING RAIN!!
Hanson: "THERE IT IS!! FALLING RAIN!!! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!"
Reynolds: "PIN HER, SHELLEY!! 1!!!! 2!!!!"
But Apocalypta KICKED OUT!
Hanson: "OHH and the champ kicks out!"
Reynolds: "Wow!!"
As she stood up, Shelley turned to listen to her manager Sloane Camaron as she was calling out advice. When she turned back, however, Apocalypta was on her feet and seized her by the throat!!
Reynolds: "Oh shit!"
Hanson: "She made a mistake there, Jim!"
Reynolds: "Damn right, she did!"
And Apocalypta lifted Shelley up, driving her back down with a brutal CHOKESLAM!!
Reynolds: "No getting up from that!!"
1!!!!
2!!!!
But Shelley Silver KICKED OUT!!
Hanson: "It's gonna take more than that to stop her!"
The match continued on. Both women exhausted and sweating from head to toe as they laid into each other with everything left in the tank. Getting the upper hand again, Shelley Silver whipped Apocalypta into the ropes, rearing for a kick as the woman bounced back at her. She kicked. Missed as Apocalypta ducked under her leg and came off the other side of the ropes. SIlver turned around, right into the--
Hanson: "MOAB LAUNCH!!"
Reynolds: "That shit probably cracked a rib!!"
Hanson: "There's the cover!!"
1!!!
2!!!
Hanson: "AND SILVER KICKS OUT AGAIN!!"
Reynolds: "Wooooooow, Nicky!! Listen to this New York crowd!"
Crowd: "FIGHT FOREVER!!" *clap-clap-clapclapclap* "FIGHT FOREVER!!!"
Sitting up from her failed pin attempt, Apocalypta sneered angrily with fire in her solid white eyes. It was really all there was to her eerie appearance at this point as most of her facepaint had smeared off, partially revealing the hidden beauty underneath. Climbing to her feet, she picked Silver up by her hair and set her up again....
But Silver suddenly seemed to spring to live and lifted the champion up onto her shoulders, delivering the SUNDOWN!!!! She went for another cover.
1!!!!
2!!!!
KICKOUT!!!
Reynolds: "JAAAAYYYZUS KEEEEERYST, NICKY!!!!!"
Hanson: "How do you stop the champion?!?!"
Reynolds: "How do you stop EITHER of them?!?!"
Getting up onto her knees, Shelley Silver looked at Apocalypta in disbelief as the woman showed small signs of life. The challenger shaking her head as the champion sat up and turned to face her. With a wobbly gesture, Shelley gestured to Apocalypta. 'Take your best shot.' Apocalypta pushed a handful of dampened, sweaty hair out of her mostly exposed face. Having to catch a breath before obliging her opponent.
*WHAM* Elbow shot from Apocalypta. Shelley rocked back, coming back with a hard right.
Apocalypta's head snapped to the side, almost bowling her over. She caught herself on her hands and came back with another elbow. Shelley rocked again, answering back with a hard slap that resonated through the crowd.
Crowd: "OHHHHHH!"
Apocalypta answered back with a slap of her own. Shelley answered with an elbow. Apocalypta answered back with another elbow. Elbow from Shelley. Punch from Apocalypta. Slap from Shelley. Elbow from Apocalypta. Punch from Shelley. Then, an elbow and punch combo from Apocalypta that put the champion ahead on the exchange. She delivered strike after strike while slowly rising to her feet, beginning to kick at the challenger until coming off the ropes for an attempt at a low big boot...but Shelley caught her by the foot and switched it into a Sharpshooter! Wincing and groaning in agony, Apocalypta struggled towards the ropes but Shelley kept pulling her back to the center of the ring. Just when it looked like she was ready to tap, Apocalypta managed to turn around and shoved Shelley with one foot, knocking her into the inner ring post. Shelley stumbled back towards Apocalypta and was caught, lifted up, and driven with with the GROUND ZERO!!
Hanson: "THAT'S IT!!"
Reynolds: "THAT'S GOTTA BE IT!!"
1!!!
2!!!
BUT SHELLEY SILVER KICKED OUT!!!
Reynolds: "YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!"
Hanson: "TALK ABOUT RESEILIENCY!!"
As Shelley Silver and Apocalypta climbed back to their feet in frustration, Sloane Camaron climbed up onto the apron. Distracted, the referee walked over to talk her down. She didn't see the woman toss Shelley's nightstick through the ropes under her own arm and into the ring.
Hanson: "Oh wait a minute, now. C'mon!"
Reynolds: "Maybe this is what it'll take!"
Hanson: "It doesn't make it right!"
Shelley picked up the night stick and turned, waiting for Apocalypta. As soon as the champ turned, she swung...but Apocalypta caught the stick in her hand and the two began to pull and wrestle over the weapon. Finally, after getting Sloane off of the apron, the referee turned and noticed the struggle, immediately intervening and grabbed onto the nightstick himself, demanding both women let go. It took a minute, but finally Shelley released it with one hand an landed a hard backhand to Apocalypta, sending her back and doubling over. Shelley came off the ropes again and landed a SECOND Falling Rain. Given the exhaustion, however, it looked a little off.
Hanson: "Oh, I don't think she got all of that one."
Reynolds: "I know, Apocalypta's still reeling!"
Shelley crawled over for the cover then and--
1!!!
2!!!
KICKOUT!!
Shelley immediately got to her feet, slapping her hand three times and yelling at the ref in understandable frustration. As soon as she leaned over Apocalypta again, however, the champion threw her legs up around Shelley's head and grabbed ahold of one arm, locking her into a triangle hold, she called the Constricter!!!
Reynolds: "WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!?!"
Hanson: "SHE'S GOT THE CONSTRICTER LOCKED IN!!! SHELLEY CAN'T GO ANYWHERE!!"
Try as she might, Shelley clawed and punched at Apocalypta's legs to try and break the hold. Apocalypta did all she could to bat away any attempts at striking her head before re-enforcing her hold on Shelley's arm. Shelley put all the power she had left into her legs and lifted Apocalypta off of the mat, slamming her back down hard. Apocalypta staggered, but kept Shelley from fully escaping and locked the hold back in.
Reynolds: "She's gonna tap! Shelley's gonna tap!"
Hanson: "If Apocalypta doesn't break her neck, first!!!"
Shelley didn't tap, nor did she get a broken neck. What she did do, however, was struggle and resist the hold until every last ounce of energy was spent out of her body. Falling to her knees first, her hand that was being used to try and beat her way out finally fell limp as her entire body sagged forward. When the ref noticed, he frantically began tapping at Apocalypta to release the hold, calling for the bell at 39:07.
Hanson: "Wait a minute! SHE'S OUT!!! SHELLEY'S OUT!!"
Reynolds: "Wait, what?! But she didn't tap!!"
Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has just informed me that due to no response from the challenger, she is stopping the match. Therefore, your winner, as a result of referee stoppage aaaaaand STILL the N*FW Women's Champion...."
Hanson: "WHOOOAAAA!!"
Announcer: "...APOCAAAAALYPTAAAAA!!!"
Reynolds: "She choked Shelley Silver out! She didn't pin her. She didn't submit her. She put her to fucking SLEEP!!"
Hanson: "Jim, if that doesn't tell you something about the merit of BOTH of these women, I don't know what does!"
With heaving breaths, drenched in her own sweat, Apocalypta fought to get to her feet, determined to do so without help from the ref or use of the ropes. Absolutely exhausted, she took her title from the referee and stared down at Shelley Silver's unconcious form as "Hurricane" by Tore Fagerheim blared on through the arena with the champion holding her title over head, panting heavily as she glared into the camera.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Finals match for the World Title Tournament, surprisingly *did* happen. After Abaddon made his entrance and paced the ring, gloatingly, seemingly awaiting the announcement of his opponent's forefeit....
"HAIL...TO THE KING!!"
The opening strings of Avenge Sevenfold's "Hail To The King" began to play.
Reynolds: "Am I hearing shit?"
Hanson: "I don't think so, partner. I hear it too and...YES!!!!! LOOK!!!"
Despite the events of his semi-finals match, Scott Leroux came limping out onto the stage. Leotard around his waist. Ribs taped up. On his last legs. But staring down the ramp with determination.
The match for the most part was completely one sided in Abaddon's favor. Despite a few attempts at fighting back, Scott's ribs were made an obvious target as Abaddon practically picked him apart. Finally, obviously having enough fun with tormenting his opponent, Abaddon planted Leroux with an Impaler DDT and went for the cover...but the referee took a step back....
Hanson: "What the hell is the referee doing?"
Reynolds: "Ya got me!"
Abaddon looked up in confusion, opening his arms out in a shrug as he got to his feet. Stepping towards the referee, he could be seen mouthing 'what are you doing?!' The referee's answer...was pulling up his sleeve revealing a tattoo on his forearm of an inverted pentagram with a goat's skull in the center and the letters 'D.O.P' underneath.
Referee: "...AVE...SATANAS!!!"
Reynolds: "What the fuuuuuuck?!"
Hanson: "He's got a Dominion of Pain tattoo, Jim! What the hell is---WAIT A MINUTE!!!"
As Hanson exclaimed into his headset, the crowd gave a pop as Judas Lasher hit the ring in black slacks and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He grabbed Abaddon and spun him around, hitting him with LUCIFER'S HALO!!
Hanson: "WHERE THE HELL DID LASHER COME FROM?!?!"
As Abaddon laid out on his back, Judas gave a nod and twisted smile at the referee who dropped to his knees like an obedient follower. Judas grinned wider, placing a hand on the man's head like a proud father before bidding him to stand and the two left the ring together.
Hanson: "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"
Reynolds: "THIS IS CRAZY!!!"
Meanwhile, Scott Leroux, oblivious to it all, recovered and simply saw Abaddon laid out. He crawled over and placed an arm over his chest as another referee came rushing to the ring and administered the pin count. 1...2...3! *DING DING DING*
Hanson: "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!!"
Reynolds: "Call it Blasphemous Justice strikes again, Nicky! We have our first World Champion!!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
During Scott Leroux’s in-ring celebration, we see Commissioner Steven Brody enter with the gleaming world heavyweight championship in his hand. As soon as he steps into the ring, he is handed a microphone from outside and Scott’s music gradually fades out as the commissioner comes to stand next to him.
“Scott, as the owner and commissioner of New Frontier Wrestling, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you on your victory, here tonight.”
Brody pauses for the inevitable roar of the crowd. Smiling around the the audience before he lifts the microphone up again. “Everyone that participated in this tournament...gave it their all. They put it all on the line. They showed you and the rest of the world what New Frontier Wrestling is all about. So before we get down to final business, let’s hear it for All of the tournament’s participants!”
Brody lifts the mic to soak in the roar of the audience. When they’re finished, he turns back to Scott Leroux. “Now, Scott, if you would allow me the honor, I want the entirety of Madison Square Garden to witness the official crowning of N*FW’s first World Heavyweight Championship.”
When Scott is ready, Brody hands the microphone off to the referee and moves behind the new champion where he places the belt around his waist, fastening it snugly before taking the mic from the ref. “Ladies and gentlemen, your World Heavyweight Champion: the Tapout King - SCOTT LEROUX!!”
The fans give an approving pop as Brody shakes Scott’s hand, even hugs him then lifts the mic once more. “With that being said, I’m sure these fans wanna hear from N*FW’s top dog so, champ, the floor is yours.” Brody hands the mic to Scott and steps back out of his way with the ref.
"I... fuck, I can't say much.... hurts to even talk..." Leroux laughed raggedly, clutching his ribs with one arm and the World Title with the other. "I wanna dedicate this to my son Owen.... he's training to be like his old man right now... this is to show him that while fads go away, and eras may fly by... talent is forever. Also, I want to dedicate this to my brothers in the Great White North. We're gonna show the world what a couple of pissed-off old guys can do! The rest of NFW? The rest of the WORLD, even? It's time for every last one of you... to HAIL! TO! THE! KING!"
As Scott’s music starts to swell, Steven Brody picks up the microphone again. “Hold on, hold on. One second.” Scott’s music quiets down again as Brody turns to him. “Now Scott, you know me. I’m not the type to rain on anyone’s parade and that’s certainly not what I’m looking to do here, HOWEVER...” He pauses, raising an index finger. “There is one more order of business to handle and that is the matter of your first defense. Now, given the caliber and intensity of this tournament, it can’t just be anybody. I could easily award a shot to the runner up but with how things have been playing out, I want no interruptions or controversies during this match for the title. But, truth be told, I handpicked the first challenger when I announced this tournament so it was just a matter of who would be carrying the flag for New Frontier Wrestling when the time came and that, ladies and gentlemen...Scott...will be at our next ppv, When Worlds Collide on July 1st when we take N*FW overseas to the Tokyo Dome!”
Reynolds: “WHAT?”
Hanson: “WOOOOOOOW!!!!”
Reynolds: “Talk about huge!”
Smiling, Brody continues. “Now, I mentioned that our champion would be carrying the flag for this company, so that should tell you one thing about your opponent Scott. It ain’t anybody back there in the locker room.”
Hanson: “Wait, what?”
Reynolds: “Then who the hell is...?”
“As you know, we’ve signed a cross promotion deal with New Japan Pro Wrestling and after some long contemplation...Scott...I want you to be ready for Tokyo. I want you to carry our banner. I want you to bring it all and rock the Tokyo Dome to it’s foundation. I know, if there’s anybody that can win this for us, it’s you!” He gently pokes Scott in the chest. “I know you can do this. These fans know you can do this.” He points out to the crowd. “Scott, as champion, I expect you to carry that title - our banner - into your match, ready for war. I expect you to be at your very best, just as you always are. Because on July 1st...at When Worlds Collide...in the Tokyo Dome, your opponent will be none other than THIS man!” Brody points passed Scott Leroux, towards the stage.
*The arena lights darken as the sound of a coin is heard and the arena lights brighten as The Rainmaker theme starts playing throughout the arena, bring the crowd to their feet as they look to the entrance way.*
Reynolds: "WWWWWWHAT?!??!?!?"
Hanson: "JIM!!!! I...I'VE GOTTA BE DREAMING!!!"
Reynolds: "AM I HEARING THIS MUSIC RIGHT?!"
*Rainmaker continues to play before finally stepping on to the entrance way, we see Kazuchika Okada, dressed in a grey business suit, white dress shirt, and a blue neck tie sporting a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes. He stands for a few moments staring at the ring as Gedo appears behind him, with his trademark bandanna worn low over his head, nearly covering his eyes, egging the crowd to cheer louder before pointing towards Okada as the two slowly make their way to the ring, with the crowd still going crazy at this unexpected appearance. Gedo and Okada take a short lap around the ring, stopping and looking into the crowd with Gedo again egging the crowd on each side before they finally step into the ring. Okada stands on the middle turnbuckle at the corner opposide Leroux and gives the rainmaker pose as Gedo points at him to the crowd and claps his approval, continuing to drive the crowd into a frenzy.*
Hanson: "I'M SPEECHLESS!!"
Reynolds: "YOU AND BE BOTH, BROTHER! I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M WITNESSING RIGHT NOW!!"
Hanson: "NEW JAPAN'S OWN KAZUCHIKA OKADA...THE IWGP HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...IS HERE IN N*FW!!!"
Reynolds: "AND HE'S CHALLENGING FOR THE N*FW HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!!"
Hanson: "YOU TALK ABOUT A BLOCKBUSTER MATCH!!! THIS IS IT RIGHT HERE!!!"
*Gedo walks over to Brody with Okada and shakes Brody's hand before requesting for the mic from Brody. Brody hands the Gedo the mic and gives Okada a firm handshake as the music stops and Gedo paces around the ring with mic in hand.*
"NFWWWWWW!!!!" Gedo yells into the mic with his gravelly voice.
"ARIGATOOOO!!!" Gedo yells again as the crowd starts a mini Okada-chant. Gedo turns to Okada and they speak briefly to each other off the mic before both turn their attention to Leroux.
"Scott Leroux...congratulation. You are first champion. You are good champion...," Gedo says to Leroux as he stops and claps at Leroux, prompting the crowd to applaud with him.
"But...you not great champion...yet. YOU are in the ring with THE champion. the greatest IWGP champion, the GREATEST champion today. Level ga chigaun dayo!!! The Rrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainnnnnnnnmmmaaaaakahhhhhhhhhhhh!, OKADA KAZUCHIKA!!!" Gedo says as he turns and claps at Okada who stands in front of Leroux. Okada removes his sunglasses and places them in the pocket of his suit coat before taking the mic from Gedo. The crowd continues the Okada chant as Okada looks around and gives a confident smirk before focusing his attention back to Leroux.
"Scott Leroux. Congratulation...You are...FIRST NFW champion. I have three things for you," Okada says and pauses for a moment. "Forgive me...my English is still work...in progress. One, you are great champion. You are a champion of honor. But I am no ordinary challenger. Two, you are not human. You are superhuman to win that title tonight. But I will see if you are that. Because July 1...When Worlds Collide...when we are in Tokyo Dome, you are in my world, with my people. And we will see, who you are," Okada says as the crowd continues to cheer.
"Three...?" Okada pauses for a moment. "Nandemonai," Okada says as he turns and gives a shrug to the crowd as some members of the crowd laugh and applaud. "Scott Leroux, I will wait for you...in Tokyo. Until then, get ready. Let's give the world something special. No wa, sekai no ame no okane o tsukuttemiyō!!!" Okada says as does gives Leroux the Rainmaker pose again as the Rainmaker theme starts to play again, this time with money falling from the arena into the ring. Okada and Leroux stand face-to-face as the money stops falling, neither man saying anything to the other as their staredown continues as the camera fades to black.
We have a different thing to talk about for a few moments. We have not see our son since Erin Mercer burned down our house. Son, we are sure you’re confused, just remember one thing, she tried to destroy you too.
She tried to burn down all your accomplishments around you. She stole from us…. and we will get it all back.
She rocks some in the chair and tapping the side of her head.
Back to the reason for our talk, Candi. You can thank your friend Erin, for what we are go9ing to do to you. For the pain we shall inflict on you. Can you hear the drums? Can’t you hear it.
She taps the rocking chair arm with her right hand. Tap <pause> Tap <pause> Tap
The drums of war have started, the rhythm has begun, the drums of war match our heartbeat. You will bleed candi, you will burn, and when all said and done, we have a surprise for you. Will it be the cattle proud, the handcuffs, the brand? We know, but if we tell you, it will spoil the surprise. So you will have to wait.
Getting up out of the chair, she moves over to the camera, slowly. Tapping three times on the camera in rapid succession. Turning her head to the side and back again.
It is the drums that bothers us the most. Because it is a painstaking reminder of what we have to do to you, because Erin got in the way. Your friend, Erin, ruined this for you, and for us, and for our son Vincent. For that we have to send her another message, apparently. So, we will use t you to send that message, you have been warned. When we set you on fire, don’t blame us, don’t blame yourself either, you’re not in our league. Blame Erin. This, is, all, her fault.
She taps the glass in the camera with her right hand. Tap <pause> Tap <pause> Tap and then it goes to static and the words Decay turns to S.O.S.
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*A hand being taped up fills the screen. The white tape is drawn slowly around, between fingers, and then pulled taught. The action continues, as the distinct voice of Rick Dickulous can be heard - his usually light demeanor noticeably less so*
"Adam. Fucking. Cole."
*The camera zooms out to show John Cherry meticulously inspecting and adjusting the tape. He looks at Rick*
"Ya know, bud, what you gotta do is get into those corners and dig hard. Nobody likes a guy who goes into them corners and doesn't give'r, know what I mean, tough guy?"
"Don...I appreciate you trying to motivate me, guy, but I'm already motivated enough. It's like I'm goin' a hundred clicks an hour in a 50 zone. Know what that gets ya in Ontario? It gets your fuckin' car impounded and a hefty fine for street racing."
*John looks at Rick with a confused look*
"Rick, you DO know Don's my brother, right? I'm John Cherry. I know they sound similar and all. Don was a coach, I was a trainer."
*Rick shoots John a quick glance*
"You think I don't know Don Cherry when I see hi--"
"No. I really don't, Rick. I really, really don't. Y'know what? Call me whatever you want. What matters is you going out there tonight and getting that W. This is what you came to do, so show everyone what a real champion looks like."
*Rick nods*
"Don, friend...that's exactly what I had planned. I mean, if I flapped my pie hole as much as Cole does about how great he is, what kind of role model would I be, eh? He's had this coming; murdering Anne was the last straw. He told me I should know who I'm fucking with, but what he doesn't know is that right now he may as well be fighting a kodiak who got stung in the nuts by a wasp....repeatedly."
*John winces*
"First, that sounds uncomfortable. Second, where do you come up with these analogies?"
*Rick smiles*
"Saw it happen once. Stupid bear went for what he thought was a beehive hanging from a tree. Turned out to be a wasp's nest. It wasn't pretty, at all. Much the same as I'm planning to leave Adam Cole's face tonight...ugly enough to scare shit off the back of a shovel. Know what I'm sayin', guy?"
"As ugly as my ex wife? We had to tie a milk bone around her neck to get the dog to play with her."
*Rick nods*
"Exactly, Don."
*John begins taping Rick's other hand*
"Look, truth be told, Rick, I believe in you. The fans believe in you. The only person who doesn't right now is Adam Cole. I'll have you ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail, and then? Then you go out there and you take what's yours. This is YOUR night, Rick."
"It is, friend...tonight Cole learns you don't poke the bear unless you're looking to take a dirt nap. Tonight is the night that this ends - Cole has no idea what's about to hit him, eh?"
*John smiles as he pulls the tape taught again*
"No, Rick. He absolutely doesn't. Last time I saw this side of you, you just finished smacking around an entire opposing hockey team, referee squad, timekeeper, and goal judges...and you were only 15."
"Yeah, and they learned their lesson, didn't they? I wish I had my line then. It would've been epic to look at the pile and say: Sorry, not sorry!"
*John rips the tape and secures it to Rick's wrist*
"Well, tonight you can. Tonight. You. Can."
*John pats Rick on the shoulder*
"Go get 'im, kid. I'll be here when you're done..."
*Rick clenches and opens his fists, working the tape in before standing up. He claps his hands together and shoots finger guns at John*
"Don't wait up for me, Don, I have the feeling this is gonna be a looooong night for Adam Fucking Cole."
*Rick walks off as John Cherry watches, shaking his head. He quietly mutters to himself*
"Give'r, kid. Give'r."
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Throughout the match for the Silver Mountain Championship, Rick Dickulous and Adam Cole absolutely brutalized one another. In addition to their actual wrestling arsenal, they took full advantage of the Street Fight stipulation and hit one another with practically everything they could get their hands on. Both men were busted open within minutes. For the most part, El Piso Mojado - the special referee - stood back and let the two just lay into each other. His pinfall counts, however, were noticeably biased. While Adam Cole was the one who went for the most attempts, it was easy to notice that Piso's counts were drastically slow, causing Cole to grow more and more frustrated.
Finally, near the end, Cole got to his feet and in Piso's face, mouthing. "What are you doing?! You fucking idiot! Count faster!"
In the end, as Cole waited for Rick to get up, poised for his Superkick alternate finisher, the crowd erupted into a pop as Mannheim and Pitt came running down towards the ring. This time, however, the two were wearing their old ring gear.
Reynolds: "What the hell, Nicky! Is that...?!"
Hanson: "Ohhhhhh man, this looks all too familiar right here, Jimmy! Talk about a throwback!"
In the ring, as soon as Adam Cole turns around to see what's going on, he's leveled by Pitt with a big boot to the face. Pitt then lifts him up for he and Mannheim to deliver a perfectly executed TRIP TO HELL! Rick Dickulous went in for the cover, where El Piso Mojado dropped down and made a MUCH faster count, ending the match at 18:11.
*William Mannheim picks up the Silver Mountain Championship from the announcer's table, grabbing a microphone at the same time. He slides under the ropes and to Rick Dickulous' side. Mannheim lifts Rick up and hands him the belt with a smile and a fatherly hug. Rick's bloodstained hands leave smears across the faceplate. Mannheim raises Rick's hand, and lifts the mic and speaks in a Micheal Buffer ripoff voice*
"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and NEW Silver Mountain Champion....RICK DICKULOUS!!"
*The crowd pops as Rick plays the crowd, though he is in obvious pain, blood caked on his face and in his beard*
"I'm sure a lot of you saw this coming, but if not, let me fill you in. See, Piso has something in common with Pitt, Rick, and myself...it turns out he's Canadian too! Yeah, he's a Mexican Mennonite - no shit! Look that up!"
*El Piso Mojado nods and points exaggeratedly at Mannheim comically before showing two thumbs up*
"See, I've been working on putting something together for the last while. Us Canadians, when a blizzard's coming, we bundle the fuck up. We group together and we bitch about it, and we all dream of a nice, beautiful place where it's just right all year round."
*Pitt, Piso, and Rick nod at Mannheim*
"Well, there's definitely a storm brewin around here. We've got the Dominion of Pain back in business..."
*The crowd cheers for the returned veterans*
"There's the McKeesport Mafia..."
*Another rousing cheer erupts from the stadium seats*
"And then, there's the Circle of Snakes..."
*A near deafening boo fills the building*
"So, now? Now Pitt and I are putting the tag division on notice. Rick here has the Silver Mountain division on notice. Piso has the Cruiserweight division on notice."
"HAIL....TO THE KING!"
As his music begins to play, the crowd pops as Scott Leroux walks out onto the stage, wearing a variation of his old Team Canada tights, but altered to fit this new group. With him walks young Kennedy Campbell, wearing a Maple Leafs baby tee with red and white camo cargo pants, slung dangerously low on her hips. The two make their way down the aisle, with Kennedy holding the ropes for Leroux to enter.
The moment he enters the ring, Leroux walks right over to Mannheim, staring at his old rival for a few moments, before shaking his hand and giving him a brotherly hug.
"All things were made to end. Including rivalries. For years, me and Big Willy did everything in our power to tear each other apart. But years can not only mature a man... they can also change the way you see things. When I look at Willy now? I see a bad-ass man. One who marches to the beat of his own drummer, never giving two shits about what anyone else thinks. And one who, like myself, prides himself on being Canadian. And when I met Kennedy here.... I saw that same fire, that same pride... in the new generation. And when Willy and Pitt came to talk to me... it all fell together. Bridging eras. Building camaraderie. Watching each other's backs. All in the name of Canadian Pride. So tonight.... after I become the new NFW World Heavyweight Champion... the era of The Great White North begins. Kennedy will bring us the Women's Title. Piso will bring us the Cruiserweight Title. And these two silly bitches..." He jerks a thumb toward Willy and Pitt, "will bring us the World Tag Team Titles. Bring this motherfucker home, Big Willy Style."
*Mannheim looks around the ring at all the others*
"We do what Canadians do. Stick together through the storm...and that's how we get through in one piece. The Great White North."
*They all high five in the centre of the ring before sliding out one by one and heading up the ramp as a group, the crowd going absolutely insane*
Hanson: "WHAT AN ALLIANCE!!"
Reynolds: "I don't get it, Nicky...."
Hanson: "What's not to get?"
Reynolds: "Great White North? But Piso's not even---"
Hanson: "I'm gonna stop you right there, Jim. Not another word.'
Reynolds: "But--"
Hanson: "JIM!!"
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The camera cuts to Candi Broduer, sitting alone on a bench in the locker room, holding her head. She's already changed into her wrestling gear, but rather than looking psyched to end this mini-feud with Rosemary... she looks depressed. Defeated. Despondent.
"How did it come to this?" She asked seemingly nobody, sitting up straight before leaning back against the wall. "Fifteen years ago, I was just starting in this industry. I had a mentor that was respected around the world, I was a prime part of one of the most elite stables in all of wrestling. Eventually? I became the youngest Women's World Champion in history."
She sighed, before spinning around and punching a nearby locker as hard as she could.
"But when Team Canada split up.... it was like a snowball effect. Everyone went their separate ways. Chris.... well.... for legal reasons I can't really talk about Chris. I was suddenly a woman without a purpose. Without direction. Without friends. And look at me now."
She gave a sad smile, holding her arms out.
"There's a whole new generation of female wrestlers now, allllll trying to make a name for themselves. To be the best. And what am I doing? Wrestling a garbage match where someone has to be set on fire. The worst part is how badly I was basically pushed into this. Rosemary.... you're nuttier than a fruitcake, but I have nothing personal at ALL against you. Hell, I think you're a total bad-ass. But management made me feel like if I didn't pursue this 'feud', well... they just had nothing else for me."
"This has to end. It has to end NOW. I'll go out there tonight. I'll fight Rosemary. And one of us will be set on fire. But afterwards? Never again. Never again will I allow myself to be bought out like some cheap whore. Management won't have to "find something" for me. Because I will be doing whatever it takes to make sure I'm in that spotlight. That I'M the one people are yearning to feud with again. That once again... Candi 'The Crippler' Broduer is a name that brings respect and fear with it. So go take your camera, and find someone else to pester. The time for talking.... is over."
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Under an eerie red light, Candi Brodeur and Rosemary finally unleashed weeks of frustration -- spurned from different sources -- on each other. While people expected the brutality and savage offense from Rosemary, they were surprised to see an angrier, more aggressive side of Candi Brodeur.
After multiple struggles and attempts to push each other towards the flames, a close call came for both of them as Candi clotheslined Rosemary over the top rope. Rosemary hit the floor and Candi stepped back at the same time, just as the flames shot upwards.
Reynolds: "WHOA!"
Hanson: "God, that was close. I don't like this, Jim."
Reynolds: "Well, Rosemary's outside. How the hell is she gonna get back in?"
Each time Rosemary stepped towards the ring, the flames shot up. The same went for Candi each time she stepped towards the turnbuckle, obviously trying to find a way out towards her opponent.
Then, as Rosemary took a step back to assess the situation, the crowd popped on their feet as ERIN MERCER came sprinting from backstage and jumped on Rosemary from behind with vicious strikes, starting a secondary brawl. While Mercer brought the fight to Rosemary, the Demon Assassin's rage fueled adrenaline proved to be just a little much and she began fighting back, until whipping Erin into the steel steps with a thunderous crash.
Meanwhile, inside the ring, something seemed to dawn on Candi and, pointing to the sky, the woman gave a very familiar throat cut taunt before running off the opposite ropes and -- in a dive styled after Chris Benoit's diving headbutt -- came soaring over the ropes and crashing onto Rosemary, bringing them down to the floor. Outside the ring, their fight continued until the two engaged in an exchange of strikes, back and forth. Goading the other on to hit them harder than they hit the other. Shortly after, however, when goading Candi into going for another strike, Rosemary quickly caught her in the jaw with an elbow, staggering her. Next, Rosemary planted her foot against Candi'd midsection and shoved her back hard into the ring apron, right into the flames!! Stepping away from the ring, the crowd and announcers alike were horrified to see Candi's entire back ablaze, granting Rosemary the victory after 28:03. The woman thrashing, screaming in pain as the bell rang and EMTs ran in to hose her down with a fire extinguisher.
Rosemary wasn't finished yet, however, as she scooped Candi up onto her shoulders and hit the Red Wedding right onto the outside mat. While the EMTs tried to get to Candi and administer first aid, Rosemary bent down over Candi, offering her hand with a demented smile. She could be seen mouthing "join us...SISTER!" Before anyone else could say anything, however, Erin Mercer had gotten back to her feet and was jumping on Rosemary again, resuming their brawl into the crowd and towards the back as EMTs tended to Candi.
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The second semi-final match for the World Title tournament...never actually happened. As Scott Leroux was making his entrance after Belphegor, the monster from the Circle of Snakes attacked him in the corner. Rather than ringing the bell, the referee spent the entire time trying to break them apart. Belphegor shoved the referee back, however, and followed through with not one...not two...not even three...but FOUR powerbombs to Scott Leroux before tossing him out of the ring.
Following after him, the man picked up his dazed opponent and slung him like a rag doll into the steel steps, knocking the top half off. As Scott Leroux lied there, trying to catch his wind, Belphegor lifted up the top half of the steps and brutally brought them down onto Scott's ribs. One...two...three times. Here, the bell finally rang, as the ref called for it. At that, Belphegor stepped back as if the bell were some kind of signal....
"Ladies and gentlemen." The ring announcer began. "I have just been informed by the referee, that due to the brutality of the attack by Belphegor, this match will be ruled as a disqualification. Therefore, your winner...and second finalist for the World Title Tournament...the Tapout King...SCOTT...LEROUX!!"
Reynolds: "That's all fine and dandy but how's he gonna compete against Abaddon?! He just got fucking wrecked! Goddamn these Circle of Snakes motherfuckers!"
Hanson: "I can't help but think that this is part of Abaddon's agenda, Jimmy...."
Reynolds: "You know...you're right. If Scott can't compete, Abaddon's got that championship in the bag. Son of a BITCH!!"
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She’d done it before, but it seemed as though the lovely people in NFW hadn’t paid attention to Shelley’s old videos, so she could do it again. Armed with only a bow staff, Shelley stood blindfolded in the middle of a group of four large men. This had become the way that she trained for matches against whiny heels with friends that were likely to attack her. She knew that Apocalypta and the Circle would be no different from the others. Groups like this always acted like they were a new concept, but Shelley knew otherwise.
The camera panned around as everyone stood in silence for a few moments until it landed on Sloane Cameron. A wicked grin crept across her face as she held up one arm and shouted out “and in three, two… one,” and dropped her arm to signal to the men that it was time to start attacking Shelley. From the very first strike, barely any landed onto Shelley’s body. Five minutes went on before each of the four men submitted and took a knee. Shelley slowed down, noticing that she wasn’t fighting anyone anymore and took off her mask and blindfold.
“Damn,” one of the men could be heard huffing and puffing in the background.
The camera then panned over to a large, dark haired tattooed man, chuckling. “Now you know why I don’t go against her anymore.”
Shelley walked over to him and grinned, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ve gotten weak since you took over the tribe, big brother.”
Johnny Silver shook his head as he watched his friends walk up the stairs to leave Shelley’s basement and outside to ironically cool off in the May sun. “This is some favor your doing while you’re working on reshoots for your new movie.”
“I know,” Shelley sighed, “I never expected to get into singles competition while working with New Frontier.”
“And now you’re up for the women’s championship,” Sloane smirked.
Shelley tilted her head, “I’ve never had one of those before.”
“Never too soon to start,” Johnny smiled as he went outside to join his friends.
“That Apocalypta is a real piece of work, huh?” Sloane turned to her client.
Shelley sighed, “but you and I both know that we’ve seen it all before.”
“But you’re ready this time,” Sloane reminded her.
“I really thought that I had Annabelle, I would have beaten Jessica,” Shelley frowned.
“They’re two sides of the same coin, Shel,” Sloane reminded her. “The Wolfe’s can claim that it’s a multiple personality situation all they want. DID typically has more than two personalities.”
“I don’t know, Sloane,” Shelley sighed, “they were even slightly physically different.”
“Either way, you completely demolished Olivia Saint on your way out of EWC,” Sloane grinned. “You proved *that* transformation was a joke.”
Shelley scowled at the mention of Olivia’s name, “her betrayal still stings. Gabreal knew I would have seriously slaughtered her if he had let me. That’s why he threw in the towel for her.”
“Have you heard from any of them since that night?” Sloane inquired.
Shelley shook her head, “maybe a nod in my direction from Mark, but Ace hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to keep me updated with what’s going on in EWC. Not that I’ve really asked for any updates.”
“But you’re going to his gym soon, right?” Sloane raised an eyebrow.
“Some nubile eighteen-year-old won a contract with EWC, and got to choose who trains her. She chose Ace. So naturally I have to go down there and check things out,” Shelley shrugged.
Sloane motioned to the camera, “does your new friends at NFW know that you are engaged?”
Shelley smiled, “I guess they do now. I don’t exactly wear my ring while I’m at work. I guess that I should say a few more things about my upcoming match with Apocalypta, though.” She paused, taking a breath as she looked to the camera. “You see, sweetheart, I told you that you made a mistake by getting yourself involved this this. In reality, this should really be just about Laura and Mia (I’m bad with names, if I got it wrong, please change it for me.), I’m only here because Laura is an old friend, and I am loyal to my friends. I came to New Frontier Wrestling to make sure that things didn’t get out of hand and to protect my young friend.”
The camera followed Shelley as she walked over to her promo space in the other side of her basement and sat down in her director’s style chair. “You see Apocalypta, this isn’t about the title for me. Never was. I didn’t think that I would be in line for the Women’s Championship when I signed my contract for the company, but here I am.” She shrugged, crossing her legs slowly, “as you may know, the title isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities here. That will just be a grand bonus to just completely wiping the mat with you. And I know that I will do just that?” Shelley smiled confidently. “Because you doubt me. You underestimate me. You just think that because I am also in movies, that I can’t possibly be that good of a wrestler. But you see… that is exactly how I got so far previously in my career. You doubt me, you hold back, you pay the price. Lather, rinse, repeat.”
Shelley waved her hand, having grown tired of the subject. “That isn’t going to stop me from being there, though. Madison Square Garden. I’ve been there before. Two years ago I went against Jonathan Thomas Cross, good ol’ JTC in a Hardcore match and won. That was just one in a series of matches where I went up against just about every male on Friday Night Rampage and came out on top of them all. Almost always had the same thing to say about all of them, and yet every single last one of them fell at my feet after hitting them with the Sundown. It was lights out for them, and come Sunday night, it’s going to be lights out for you, Apocalypta. Enjoy that title while you still can.” Shelley winked and blew a kiss at the camera before it faded out.
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The shot opens on a wall inside a locker room baring various photos of NFW veterans. The center piece is the original House Of Payne, all carrying some semblance of wrestling gold. A broad arm tattooed with a Punisher skull made to look like it’s resting behind torn flesh passes by the shot, obscuring the photo for a second.
Panning back, the camera reveals Andrew Payne. Mostly dressed in his ring gear; the top of his leotard around his waist as he wraps his hands in black tape. While he looks cold and serious as usual, there’s an energetic air about him as he paces back and forth. There’s a hunger in his eyes and a fire in his steps.
“How long’s it been, man?” He asks his tag partner Big Daddy Payne. “How long since we got a shot at honest to god tag team gold that was worth something?”
"Twelve years, brother. Twelve long years." Big Daddy Payne replied, pulling a black armband with the letters "E.G." in gold around his right bicep. He looked at his longtime friend and partner with a knowing smirk. "Whattya say, bud... we got one more good run in us?"
"Twelve years, brother. Twelve long years." Big Daddy Payne replied, pulling a black armband with the letters "E.G." in gold around his right bicep. He looked at his longtime friend and partner with a knowing smirk. "Whattya say, bud... we got one more good run in us?"
"Damn. You almost gotta feel for these morons." BDP agreed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean granted: you two didn't technically do anything. But the fact that you even pal around with Abaddon? Jesus fucking Christ on a scooter, son... you think The Dominion cares about the semantics of who did what? Sure, your leader's gonna get the absolute ass-beating of a lifetime, but trust me: they are going to make every one of you sorry you ever sided with this guy."
He quickly lost the amused look though, turning back to the camera. "But boys... you better forget about the Dominion for tonight. Because we may be older, and we may be slower... but trust me when I tell you that we are still the toughest motherfuckers you will EVER face in that ring. If you want even a chance of beating us... we better have your full attention. Because we are laser fucking focused on leaving that ring tonight the new NFW Tag Team Champions."
The only thing the Punisher had left to say, was as he clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder and leaned in beside him. “NON FACCIAMO!!”
BDP returned the gesture, growling the rest of their mantra: "ALTRO.... VINTO."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ladder for the match for the N*FW Tag Team Championships was every bit of exciting that social media speculated it to be. A tornado tag brawl that saw both teams laying into each other with everything they had. BDP and Andrew Payne had the obvious power advantage but Tyler Grey and Chris Wolfe matched it with their agility and technique. Several attempts to climb the ladder saw the competitors countering with devastating high spots. Tyler Grey countered an attempt by BDP, performing a Sunset Flip Powerbomb off of the ladder, and driving him through a table. A further attempt by him saw Andrew Payne grab him from behind off of the middle rung for a high angle 11th Hour, causing him to roll out of the ring.
Before Andy could even move towards the ladder, Chris Wolfe was in his face, driving him into the mat with the Direwolf. The crowd was on their feet, roaring their disapproval as Wolfe climbed the ladder and reached for the championship belts.
Reynolds: "He's got it within his grasp, Nicky! The Circle's gonna hold the tag team titles!"
Hanson: "Well, I can't say they didn't fight hard for it! This match has been off the wall since the first bell, holy hell."
Reynolds: "You can say that again, partner!"
Hanson: "HOLY HELL!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, I didn't mean---"
Hanson: "No, Jim! Look!! Watch out!"
Reynolds is almost knocked out of his chair as the Crimson Sabre, from the Dominion of Pain, comes leaping over the crowd barrier and runs up onto the ring apron. As Tyler Grey gets back to his feet, Sabre runs along the apron, coming off of it with a rolling senton, bringing the man back down.
Hanson: "IT'S THE DOMINION!!!! THEY'RE HERE!!! THEY *ARE* HERE!!!"
Reynolds: "WHERE THE HELL DID THEY COME FROM!!"
While Sabre was performing his dive, the crowd popped as Buzzsaw came sliding into the ring and yanked Chris Wolfe off of the ladder by his foot. Wolfe landed stumbling and dropped to a knee. Perfectly setting himself up for Buzzsaw's signature kick right upside the back of his head, bowling him forward onto the mat.
Hanson: "JUDAS LASHER SAID THAT THE CIRCLE WAS GONNA PAY FOR WHAT THEY DID!!!"
Reynolds: "AND THESE TWO ARE THE DELIVERERS OF JUSTICE!!"
Hanson: "What are they doing now?"
Inside the ring, Buzzsaw shook BDP, quickly helping him to his feet and pointing to the dangling belts before shoving Chris Wolfe out of the ring where he and Crimson Sabre continued their assault on the Circle of Snakes' tag team. Meanwhile, to the cheering audience, BDP climbed up the ladder and pulled down both championship belts, officially crowning the McKeesport Mafia as the first N*FW Tag Team Champions.
Hanson: "THEY DID IT!!! THERE WAS A LITTLE INTERFERENCE, BUT THEY DID IT!!"
Reynolds: "You know, for once, I can't knock it. Justice is served!!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A video plays, beginning with the camera zooming in slowly on the visage of Apocalypta standing underneath a spotlight in an otherwise pitch black room. From behind, she is bare from the waist up, giving a full view of the menacing demon tattooed over her entire back. It’s really the only way we recognize her. Low, ominous music plays as her voice begins talking over the video.
“I’ve never been one of the ‘cool kids’....”
With a jarring cut, we see a typical group of school age girls laughing and gossiping with each other.
“Never really cared....”
Another jarring cut shows, while most kids play at recess on a playground, colorful dresses and bright jeans, a lone child representing the woman speaking, sits underneath the shade of a tree with her head down against her knees in darker, more tomboyish clothing. Her face obscured by her posture and her black hair acting like a concealing curtain.
“I was fine with being the one who got laughed at...teased...isolated...from everyone else....”
Jarring cut: a group of girls stand in a circle, laughing mockingly down at the camera, before running away from the girl under the tree.
“I didn’t need to be part of the crowd....”
Jarring cut: under the spotlight, Apocalypta lifts her head, still with her back to the camera.
“I had them....”
Quick flashes of three other girls. While younger, we recognize them as the faces of Marissa Payne, Morgan Payne and Lara Blackheart.
“We...had each other....”
Quick shot of a group photo of the four as young teens together. Next to Morgan Payne, recognized by her humorous grin and a Steelers skullcap, sits a fourth girl that can only be Apocalypta. Long black hair, knee length cut off cargo shorts and a baggy Otep t-shirt. She’s clearly the shyest in the photo as only her eyes are lifted to look at the camera. A small, content smile plays on her lips, however.
“To call us friends...that was an understatement....”
A quick cut shows an old recording of what appears to be a birthday party for a young Apocalypta. She sits at the head of the table in her usual garb as Lara Blackheart slips a party hat on her head. She grimaces, through laughter, as the girl then playfully smooches her cheek.
“We were family....”
Cut back to Apocalypta under the light. We focus on her hand by her side.
“Sisters....”
Another old recording shows the four at a beach (here, Apocalypta is distinguished by swimwear of black boys’ trunks and a sports bra. The girls are seen rough housing in knee deep water, performing various wrestling moves on one another - even hilariously selling each move.
“We shared a legacy....”
An old, overhead shot shows the original N*FW arena, ca. 2007. The crowd roars as a show opens with pyro and the announcer inaudibly welcomes everyone.
“We shared a common love....”
Quick shots of the four girls’ fathers:
Big Daddy Payne hits the Bukakke Blast on an opponent.
Andrew Payne lands the Art of Ruin on another.
Doomsday decimates someone with his old Atomic Bomb through a table.
Vlad Blackheart raises an arm to the crowd, smirking big, before soaring off the top of a steel cage.
Under the spotlight, the camera trails up the back of Apocalypta’s, toned, tattooed arm.
“A love that we all vowed to follow...together....”
Cut to old footage of the girls all taking turns training in a wrestling ring inside a gym.
“Together...we were supposed to carry on that legacy....”
A quick shot shows an old photo of the four side by side, leaning on and/or through the ropes, posing for the camera.
The zoom on the photo suddenly freezes on the four.
“But the only ones who I ever cared for...ever game a damn about...did the one thing that nobody else could do....”
The shot hard cuts to Apocalypta standing alone in a corner of the ring, gripping the ropes with her head down.
“They *hurt* me...!”
Cutting back to Apocalypta’s hand, under the light, as it clenches into a fist.
The next series of clips shows three of the four, Marissa, Morgan and Lara in their indie days, tearing it up in the ring. In between clips of each girl, we see the lone Apocalypta standing in the corner of the ring inside the dark, empty gym. Her hands grip the ropes tighter.
“They abandoned me....”
Jarring cuts show her circling the inside of the ring, at different points on the mat.
“They caused me a pain worse than anything you can ever imagine....”
Back under the spotlight, Apocalypta lowers her head again.
“But I persevered...I survived. I used that pain. I used...my rage!”
The footage abruptly cuts to Apocalypta during her indie days as she lays waste to various opponents inside the ring and outside of it. Several women are seen being on the receiving end of the MOAB and the Ground Zero, while others are knocked through barricades and put through announce tables. All to the resounding, ‘OHHHHH’ of the audience.
“I have fought...I have clawed... I have scraped my way to the top on a path more rough and jagged than *either* of them!”
Apocalypta’s hand unclenches and clenches again, even tighter.
“I am a one woman army....”
In another clip, Apocalypta lands the Ground Zero on another opponent.
“And NOBODY....”
An old indie clip shows another opponent moving out of the way of her MOAB spear only to have the woman end up leveling the opponent’s male partner in a mixed tag match.
Announcer: “That’s gotta be a broken rib, maybe more!”
The shot changes to her cracking the man over the head with a chair as he tries to stand moments later. It then switches to the female tag partner being Ground Zeroed right on top of the chair as it lays across him.
Announcer: “This woman’s a monster. An-absolute-monster!”
“...will survive my path...”
Back under the light, Apocalypta turns to start facing the camera. The shot quickly changes from a full back view (for obvious reasons) and focuses in on a close up of her painted face and white eyes.
“...of destruction....”
The shot fades completely to black.
Immediately, the shot fades back in to now, at Madison Square Garden. Backstage, the camera finds the Women’s Champion walking with her title in hand, on her way to the entrance ramp. Seconds into her walk, she is stopped bu a very timid and tentative Amy Connors.
“Umm...Apocalypta?”
The champion stops...and slowly turns to look at the woman. Amy shrinks back a little.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” She swallows. “I see you’re on your way to the ring where you will defend your N*FW Women’s Championship against Shelley Silver tonight. I was just hoping to umm...maybe ask for any last minute thoughts going through your head, right now....”
Apocalypta steps forward, looming over the 5’0 Amy before turning towards the camera. “Talk all you want, Silver...about backup...about my brothers. About my *true* family.... They have my back to the end...but tonight...it’s just you and me. The rat...and the serpent....”
Falling silent, Apocalypta continues on towards the ring, stepping off camera as Amy Connors looks on, silently.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the semi-main event, Shelley Silver and Apocalypta had a battle that rocked the entire arena with fan reactions. Power and strength aside, both wrestlers brought a spotlight down on women's wrestling. Surprisingly, rather than attacking Silver with sheer power like she normally did her opponents, Apocalypta initiated a traditional lock up after the opening bell which turned into a fast paced exchange of grappling and technical wrestling. Neither woman really gaining an advantage yet.
Hanson: "I gotta be honest, Jimmy, I thought this was gonna be just a brawl but this is looking like an actual wrestling match!"
Reynolds: "Why don't we have popcorn? I need some popcorn for this! YO, GARY!!"
We hear Reynolds pull his headset off and yell something to the ring announcer.
Hanson: "Did you seriously just ask him to bring you popcorn?"
Reynolds: "Sue me."
The match continued with each woman getting their respective advantages and stretches of momentum against the other. After a trade of of blows, the crowd jumped to their feet as Shelley Silver knocked Apocalypta to one knee with a hard elbow. Suddenly, she came off the ropes and took her down with the FALLING RAIN!!
Hanson: "THERE IT IS!! FALLING RAIN!!! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!"
Reynolds: "PIN HER, SHELLEY!! 1!!!! 2!!!!"
But Apocalypta KICKED OUT!
Hanson: "OHH and the champ kicks out!"
Reynolds: "Wow!!"
As she stood up, Shelley turned to listen to her manager Sloane Camaron as she was calling out advice. When she turned back, however, Apocalypta was on her feet and seized her by the throat!!
Reynolds: "Oh shit!"
Hanson: "She made a mistake there, Jim!"
Reynolds: "Damn right, she did!"
And Apocalypta lifted Shelley up, driving her back down with a brutal CHOKESLAM!!
Reynolds: "No getting up from that!!"
1!!!!
2!!!!
But Shelley Silver KICKED OUT!!
Hanson: "It's gonna take more than that to stop her!"
The match continued on. Both women exhausted and sweating from head to toe as they laid into each other with everything left in the tank. Getting the upper hand again, Shelley Silver whipped Apocalypta into the ropes, rearing for a kick as the woman bounced back at her. She kicked. Missed as Apocalypta ducked under her leg and came off the other side of the ropes. SIlver turned around, right into the--
Hanson: "MOAB LAUNCH!!"
Reynolds: "That shit probably cracked a rib!!"
Hanson: "There's the cover!!"
1!!!
2!!!
Hanson: "AND SILVER KICKS OUT AGAIN!!"
Reynolds: "Wooooooow, Nicky!! Listen to this New York crowd!"
Crowd: "FIGHT FOREVER!!" *clap-clap-clapclapclap* "FIGHT FOREVER!!!"
Sitting up from her failed pin attempt, Apocalypta sneered angrily with fire in her solid white eyes. It was really all there was to her eerie appearance at this point as most of her facepaint had smeared off, partially revealing the hidden beauty underneath. Climbing to her feet, she picked Silver up by her hair and set her up again....
But Silver suddenly seemed to spring to live and lifted the champion up onto her shoulders, delivering the SUNDOWN!!!! She went for another cover.
1!!!!
2!!!!
KICKOUT!!!
Reynolds: "JAAAAYYYZUS KEEEEERYST, NICKY!!!!!"
Hanson: "How do you stop the champion?!?!"
Reynolds: "How do you stop EITHER of them?!?!"
Getting up onto her knees, Shelley Silver looked at Apocalypta in disbelief as the woman showed small signs of life. The challenger shaking her head as the champion sat up and turned to face her. With a wobbly gesture, Shelley gestured to Apocalypta. 'Take your best shot.' Apocalypta pushed a handful of dampened, sweaty hair out of her mostly exposed face. Having to catch a breath before obliging her opponent.
*WHAM* Elbow shot from Apocalypta. Shelley rocked back, coming back with a hard right.
Apocalypta's head snapped to the side, almost bowling her over. She caught herself on her hands and came back with another elbow. Shelley rocked again, answering back with a hard slap that resonated through the crowd.
Crowd: "OHHHHHH!"
Apocalypta answered back with a slap of her own. Shelley answered with an elbow. Apocalypta answered back with another elbow. Elbow from Shelley. Punch from Apocalypta. Slap from Shelley. Elbow from Apocalypta. Punch from Shelley. Then, an elbow and punch combo from Apocalypta that put the champion ahead on the exchange. She delivered strike after strike while slowly rising to her feet, beginning to kick at the challenger until coming off the ropes for an attempt at a low big boot...but Shelley caught her by the foot and switched it into a Sharpshooter! Wincing and groaning in agony, Apocalypta struggled towards the ropes but Shelley kept pulling her back to the center of the ring. Just when it looked like she was ready to tap, Apocalypta managed to turn around and shoved Shelley with one foot, knocking her into the inner ring post. Shelley stumbled back towards Apocalypta and was caught, lifted up, and driven with with the GROUND ZERO!!
Hanson: "THAT'S IT!!"
Reynolds: "THAT'S GOTTA BE IT!!"
1!!!
2!!!
BUT SHELLEY SILVER KICKED OUT!!!
Reynolds: "YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!"
Hanson: "TALK ABOUT RESEILIENCY!!"
As Shelley Silver and Apocalypta climbed back to their feet in frustration, Sloane Camaron climbed up onto the apron. Distracted, the referee walked over to talk her down. She didn't see the woman toss Shelley's nightstick through the ropes under her own arm and into the ring.
Hanson: "Oh wait a minute, now. C'mon!"
Reynolds: "Maybe this is what it'll take!"
Hanson: "It doesn't make it right!"
Shelley picked up the night stick and turned, waiting for Apocalypta. As soon as the champ turned, she swung...but Apocalypta caught the stick in her hand and the two began to pull and wrestle over the weapon. Finally, after getting Sloane off of the apron, the referee turned and noticed the struggle, immediately intervening and grabbed onto the nightstick himself, demanding both women let go. It took a minute, but finally Shelley released it with one hand an landed a hard backhand to Apocalypta, sending her back and doubling over. Shelley came off the ropes again and landed a SECOND Falling Rain. Given the exhaustion, however, it looked a little off.
Hanson: "Oh, I don't think she got all of that one."
Reynolds: "I know, Apocalypta's still reeling!"
Shelley crawled over for the cover then and--
1!!!
2!!!
KICKOUT!!
Shelley immediately got to her feet, slapping her hand three times and yelling at the ref in understandable frustration. As soon as she leaned over Apocalypta again, however, the champion threw her legs up around Shelley's head and grabbed ahold of one arm, locking her into a triangle hold, she called the Constricter!!!
Reynolds: "WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!?!"
Hanson: "SHE'S GOT THE CONSTRICTER LOCKED IN!!! SHELLEY CAN'T GO ANYWHERE!!"
Try as she might, Shelley clawed and punched at Apocalypta's legs to try and break the hold. Apocalypta did all she could to bat away any attempts at striking her head before re-enforcing her hold on Shelley's arm. Shelley put all the power she had left into her legs and lifted Apocalypta off of the mat, slamming her back down hard. Apocalypta staggered, but kept Shelley from fully escaping and locked the hold back in.
Reynolds: "She's gonna tap! Shelley's gonna tap!"
Hanson: "If Apocalypta doesn't break her neck, first!!!"
Shelley didn't tap, nor did she get a broken neck. What she did do, however, was struggle and resist the hold until every last ounce of energy was spent out of her body. Falling to her knees first, her hand that was being used to try and beat her way out finally fell limp as her entire body sagged forward. When the ref noticed, he frantically began tapping at Apocalypta to release the hold, calling for the bell at 39:07.
Hanson: "Wait a minute! SHE'S OUT!!! SHELLEY'S OUT!!"
Reynolds: "Wait, what?! But she didn't tap!!"
Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has just informed me that due to no response from the challenger, she is stopping the match. Therefore, your winner, as a result of referee stoppage aaaaaand STILL the N*FW Women's Champion...."
Hanson: "WHOOOAAAA!!"
Announcer: "...APOCAAAAALYPTAAAAA!!!"
Reynolds: "She choked Shelley Silver out! She didn't pin her. She didn't submit her. She put her to fucking SLEEP!!"
Hanson: "Jim, if that doesn't tell you something about the merit of BOTH of these women, I don't know what does!"
With heaving breaths, drenched in her own sweat, Apocalypta fought to get to her feet, determined to do so without help from the ref or use of the ropes. Absolutely exhausted, she took her title from the referee and stared down at Shelley Silver's unconcious form as "Hurricane" by Tore Fagerheim blared on through the arena with the champion holding her title over head, panting heavily as she glared into the camera.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Finals match for the World Title Tournament, surprisingly *did* happen. After Abaddon made his entrance and paced the ring, gloatingly, seemingly awaiting the announcement of his opponent's forefeit....
"HAIL...TO THE KING!!"
The opening strings of Avenge Sevenfold's "Hail To The King" began to play.
Reynolds: "Am I hearing shit?"
Hanson: "I don't think so, partner. I hear it too and...YES!!!!! LOOK!!!"
Despite the events of his semi-finals match, Scott Leroux came limping out onto the stage. Leotard around his waist. Ribs taped up. On his last legs. But staring down the ramp with determination.
The match for the most part was completely one sided in Abaddon's favor. Despite a few attempts at fighting back, Scott's ribs were made an obvious target as Abaddon practically picked him apart. Finally, obviously having enough fun with tormenting his opponent, Abaddon planted Leroux with an Impaler DDT and went for the cover...but the referee took a step back....
Hanson: "What the hell is the referee doing?"
Reynolds: "Ya got me!"
Abaddon looked up in confusion, opening his arms out in a shrug as he got to his feet. Stepping towards the referee, he could be seen mouthing 'what are you doing?!' The referee's answer...was pulling up his sleeve revealing a tattoo on his forearm of an inverted pentagram with a goat's skull in the center and the letters 'D.O.P' underneath.
Referee: "...AVE...SATANAS!!!"
Reynolds: "What the fuuuuuuck?!"
Hanson: "He's got a Dominion of Pain tattoo, Jim! What the hell is---WAIT A MINUTE!!!"
As Hanson exclaimed into his headset, the crowd gave a pop as Judas Lasher hit the ring in black slacks and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He grabbed Abaddon and spun him around, hitting him with LUCIFER'S HALO!!
Hanson: "WHERE THE HELL DID LASHER COME FROM?!?!"
As Abaddon laid out on his back, Judas gave a nod and twisted smile at the referee who dropped to his knees like an obedient follower. Judas grinned wider, placing a hand on the man's head like a proud father before bidding him to stand and the two left the ring together.
Hanson: "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"
Reynolds: "THIS IS CRAZY!!!"
Meanwhile, Scott Leroux, oblivious to it all, recovered and simply saw Abaddon laid out. He crawled over and placed an arm over his chest as another referee came rushing to the ring and administered the pin count. 1...2...3! *DING DING DING*
Hanson: "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!!"
Reynolds: "Call it Blasphemous Justice strikes again, Nicky! We have our first World Champion!!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
During Scott Leroux’s in-ring celebration, we see Commissioner Steven Brody enter with the gleaming world heavyweight championship in his hand. As soon as he steps into the ring, he is handed a microphone from outside and Scott’s music gradually fades out as the commissioner comes to stand next to him.
“Scott, as the owner and commissioner of New Frontier Wrestling, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you on your victory, here tonight.”
Brody pauses for the inevitable roar of the crowd. Smiling around the the audience before he lifts the microphone up again. “Everyone that participated in this tournament...gave it their all. They put it all on the line. They showed you and the rest of the world what New Frontier Wrestling is all about. So before we get down to final business, let’s hear it for All of the tournament’s participants!”
Brody lifts the mic to soak in the roar of the audience. When they’re finished, he turns back to Scott Leroux. “Now, Scott, if you would allow me the honor, I want the entirety of Madison Square Garden to witness the official crowning of N*FW’s first World Heavyweight Championship.”
When Scott is ready, Brody hands the microphone off to the referee and moves behind the new champion where he places the belt around his waist, fastening it snugly before taking the mic from the ref. “Ladies and gentlemen, your World Heavyweight Champion: the Tapout King - SCOTT LEROUX!!”
The fans give an approving pop as Brody shakes Scott’s hand, even hugs him then lifts the mic once more. “With that being said, I’m sure these fans wanna hear from N*FW’s top dog so, champ, the floor is yours.” Brody hands the mic to Scott and steps back out of his way with the ref.
"I... fuck, I can't say much.... hurts to even talk..." Leroux laughed raggedly, clutching his ribs with one arm and the World Title with the other. "I wanna dedicate this to my son Owen.... he's training to be like his old man right now... this is to show him that while fads go away, and eras may fly by... talent is forever. Also, I want to dedicate this to my brothers in the Great White North. We're gonna show the world what a couple of pissed-off old guys can do! The rest of NFW? The rest of the WORLD, even? It's time for every last one of you... to HAIL! TO! THE! KING!"
As Scott’s music starts to swell, Steven Brody picks up the microphone again. “Hold on, hold on. One second.” Scott’s music quiets down again as Brody turns to him. “Now Scott, you know me. I’m not the type to rain on anyone’s parade and that’s certainly not what I’m looking to do here, HOWEVER...” He pauses, raising an index finger. “There is one more order of business to handle and that is the matter of your first defense. Now, given the caliber and intensity of this tournament, it can’t just be anybody. I could easily award a shot to the runner up but with how things have been playing out, I want no interruptions or controversies during this match for the title. But, truth be told, I handpicked the first challenger when I announced this tournament so it was just a matter of who would be carrying the flag for New Frontier Wrestling when the time came and that, ladies and gentlemen...Scott...will be at our next ppv, When Worlds Collide on July 1st when we take N*FW overseas to the Tokyo Dome!”
Reynolds: “WHAT?”
Hanson: “WOOOOOOOW!!!!”
Reynolds: “Talk about huge!”
Smiling, Brody continues. “Now, I mentioned that our champion would be carrying the flag for this company, so that should tell you one thing about your opponent Scott. It ain’t anybody back there in the locker room.”
Hanson: “Wait, what?”
Reynolds: “Then who the hell is...?”
“As you know, we’ve signed a cross promotion deal with New Japan Pro Wrestling and after some long contemplation...Scott...I want you to be ready for Tokyo. I want you to carry our banner. I want you to bring it all and rock the Tokyo Dome to it’s foundation. I know, if there’s anybody that can win this for us, it’s you!” He gently pokes Scott in the chest. “I know you can do this. These fans know you can do this.” He points out to the crowd. “Scott, as champion, I expect you to carry that title - our banner - into your match, ready for war. I expect you to be at your very best, just as you always are. Because on July 1st...at When Worlds Collide...in the Tokyo Dome, your opponent will be none other than THIS man!” Brody points passed Scott Leroux, towards the stage.
*The arena lights darken as the sound of a coin is heard and the arena lights brighten as The Rainmaker theme starts playing throughout the arena, bring the crowd to their feet as they look to the entrance way.*
Reynolds: "WWWWWWHAT?!??!?!?"
Hanson: "JIM!!!! I...I'VE GOTTA BE DREAMING!!!"
Reynolds: "AM I HEARING THIS MUSIC RIGHT?!"
*Rainmaker continues to play before finally stepping on to the entrance way, we see Kazuchika Okada, dressed in a grey business suit, white dress shirt, and a blue neck tie sporting a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes. He stands for a few moments staring at the ring as Gedo appears behind him, with his trademark bandanna worn low over his head, nearly covering his eyes, egging the crowd to cheer louder before pointing towards Okada as the two slowly make their way to the ring, with the crowd still going crazy at this unexpected appearance. Gedo and Okada take a short lap around the ring, stopping and looking into the crowd with Gedo again egging the crowd on each side before they finally step into the ring. Okada stands on the middle turnbuckle at the corner opposide Leroux and gives the rainmaker pose as Gedo points at him to the crowd and claps his approval, continuing to drive the crowd into a frenzy.*
Hanson: "I'M SPEECHLESS!!"
Reynolds: "YOU AND BE BOTH, BROTHER! I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M WITNESSING RIGHT NOW!!"
Hanson: "NEW JAPAN'S OWN KAZUCHIKA OKADA...THE IWGP HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...IS HERE IN N*FW!!!"
Reynolds: "AND HE'S CHALLENGING FOR THE N*FW HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!!"
Hanson: "YOU TALK ABOUT A BLOCKBUSTER MATCH!!! THIS IS IT RIGHT HERE!!!"
*Gedo walks over to Brody with Okada and shakes Brody's hand before requesting for the mic from Brody. Brody hands the Gedo the mic and gives Okada a firm handshake as the music stops and Gedo paces around the ring with mic in hand.*
"NFWWWWWW!!!!" Gedo yells into the mic with his gravelly voice.
"ARIGATOOOO!!!" Gedo yells again as the crowd starts a mini Okada-chant. Gedo turns to Okada and they speak briefly to each other off the mic before both turn their attention to Leroux.
"Scott Leroux...congratulation. You are first champion. You are good champion...," Gedo says to Leroux as he stops and claps at Leroux, prompting the crowd to applaud with him.
"But...you not great champion...yet. YOU are in the ring with THE champion. the greatest IWGP champion, the GREATEST champion today. Level ga chigaun dayo!!! The Rrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainnnnnnnnmmmaaaaakahhhhhhhhhhhh!, OKADA KAZUCHIKA!!!" Gedo says as he turns and claps at Okada who stands in front of Leroux. Okada removes his sunglasses and places them in the pocket of his suit coat before taking the mic from Gedo. The crowd continues the Okada chant as Okada looks around and gives a confident smirk before focusing his attention back to Leroux.
"Scott Leroux. Congratulation...You are...FIRST NFW champion. I have three things for you," Okada says and pauses for a moment. "Forgive me...my English is still work...in progress. One, you are great champion. You are a champion of honor. But I am no ordinary challenger. Two, you are not human. You are superhuman to win that title tonight. But I will see if you are that. Because July 1...When Worlds Collide...when we are in Tokyo Dome, you are in my world, with my people. And we will see, who you are," Okada says as the crowd continues to cheer.
"Three...?" Okada pauses for a moment. "Nandemonai," Okada says as he turns and gives a shrug to the crowd as some members of the crowd laugh and applaud. "Scott Leroux, I will wait for you...in Tokyo. Until then, get ready. Let's give the world something special. No wa, sekai no ame no okane o tsukuttemiyō!!!" Okada says as does gives Leroux the Rainmaker pose again as the Rainmaker theme starts to play again, this time with money falling from the arena into the ring. Okada and Leroux stand face-to-face as the money stops falling, neither man saying anything to the other as their staredown continues as the camera fades to black.
