Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Jun 10, 2018 17:58:17 GMT -8
Prior to the usual start of the show, Megadeth's "Reckoning Day" serves as the music for a recap of the pay-per-view.
Hanson: "Welcome everyone! Reckoning Day is upon us!"
Reynolds: "I cannot wait for this to kick off!"
We get a short recap of the matches and the outcomes before reaching the end. The final shot of the vignette is the face off between N*FW World Champion, Scott Leroux and IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Kazuchika Okada with the song's outro drum beat thumping loudly.
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As the camera fades in, we see the locker room of the Circle of Snakes. Sitting on a bench in the middle of the room,Tyler Grey, still in his jeans and baggy Cradle of Filth tee, hair spiked into a slight mohawk, facepaint not yet applied, chatting with Apocalypta.
"Girl, that was bad-ass personified. Seriously. Shame you couldn't become the first person to make Silver tap out, but just BEATING her is impressive as hell. How's the arm, by the way? Honestly, I thought she was gonna rip that fucker right out the socket at one point."
Beside him, Apocalypta sits with jeans sporting large holes over both knees and a sleeveless, cropped Gojira shirt. Despite already having her makeup on, her demeanor is relaxed and calm. Her match from Reckoning Day is still showing effects on her body via black trainers tape on the arm that Shelley Silver worked on - the same arm that was worked to make her initially tap those few weeks ago. “Thanks, Ty.” She responds, brushing hair over her tatted shoulder.
At Tyler’s inquiry, she flexes and rolls the arm as if testing it’s mobility. “Little sore. Should be good by next week, though as long as I don’t push it too hard.” Her skull painted lips curl into a smirk that would probably be pretty if she didn’t look so damn terrifying under her gimmick. “Not like that’ll be tough tonight.” Pausing, she looks down at the gleaming championship belt in her lap. What little bit of a happy mood she had seems to fade as she looks over at her stable brother. “Still...sucks about you and Chris. I know I don’t need to say we can’t let that shit fly.”
"Never thought we'd lose the titles and then not even be pissed at the guys that took them..." He admitted, shaking his head. "I just.... I don't know. I can't help but think that maybe none of this would've happened if..."
"If what, Grey?" Abaddon interjected, walking in with an obviously rattled look on his painted face. "This will pass. We will not allow Lasher to destroy us. Or to get inside our heads. Or to..." Suddenly, there was a loud crash behind them, causing Abaddon to spin around almost frantically, eyes wide with worry.... only to see Chris Wolfe standing there, having just dropped a metal tray with food on it. "Yo... sorry, guys. Didn't mean to drop everything..."
Behind Abaddon, Apocalypta shot to her feet like a cat ready to pounce. She was willing to trade blows with even the men of the Dominion if it came down to it. Although, admittedly, she’s a little relieved that it was just Tyler’s tag partner having a clumsy moment. On the flip side, she’s still visibly less rattled than their master to whom she looks at with a mixed look of concern and humor.
“Look, this whole thing has us jumpy for nothing. They’re trying to get into our heads and it’s working. We can’t let it.” She rests an arm on Tyler’s shoulder. “Don’t regret anything we’ve done. Those who cross us have it coming to them! And we don’t go easy, right?” She looked to Abaddon then. “You taught us that.” Something occurs to her then as she looks around the locker room and notices two of them are missing.
“Guys, where the hell is big man at?” And where the hell was her little mouse, Mia at?
Belphegor is preparing for his match." Abaddon explained, before also thinking of Mia. "As for our young apprentice... I sent her to gather information about the DOminion for us. I feel she's proven herself capable of being trusted with an assignment of this priori-"
He's cut off then, by the sound of Mia Hayashi laughing, at the top of her lungs, as she comes skipping happily into the locker room. "Guys! Guys! I've been working on it ALL DAY, but I finally pulled off the prank of a lifetime. I went into the ladies' room, into a stall... waited for another woman to come in.... then I asked if she could hand me a spare roll of toilet paper, right? So she goesd to pass one over... and then I smeared Nutella on my hand, and reached under for it."
For a moment, Apocalypta just stares blankly at Mia. One might expect her to be ready to scold the girl for playing a prank instead of gathering intel, but an amused grin creeps onto her eerie features. A hand reaches out and pulls the smaller girl against her so she can hang an arm around her shoulders as she looks to the others. “Is it any wonder why I wanna devour this little appetizer?” She turns her eerie, yet sultry grin on Mia with a chuckle. “You’re just a naughty little mouse, aren’t you?”
Mia just looks at Apocalypta with a blank expression, blinking a few times. "Lady. Listen to me. Stop. Trying. To. Fuck. Me. It's not gonna happen. You TERRIFY me. And not in the happy 'choke me harder daddy' kinda way. More in a 'this bitch gonna murder me in my sleep' kinda way. So... no. Uh-uh. Access denied. In fa-"
"ENOUGH!!!!" Abaddon yelled, clearly at his wit's end and ready to unravel. "YOU!" He pointed at Mia, "Start taking your place among us seriously, if you know what's good for you." He looked at Apocalypta, "And you! Keep your little pet on a fucking leash, or I will step on her. As for you two..." He looked at Grey and Wolfe, "Stop lounging around here and start figuring out how to get those tag team titles back. I need to go figure out how to keep Lasher out of our hair this week."
Instinctively, Apocalypta’s hold on Mia takes on a more protective sense as Abaddon starts going off. Only when he’s finished, does the Women’s Champion release Mia and place her hands together with her head lowering. “Yes, Master....” Picking up her championship and placing it over her shoulder, she straightened her stance. “Tyler and Chris will obtain the tag titles...as for me...I’ll set another example with the little masked girl.” She grins sadistically, baring her teeth. “I hope she’s ready to play again....”
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~LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM!~
Ozzy Osbourne's "Let Me Hear You Scream" plays as an updated intro clip plays. This new one shows Scott Leroux as he is crowned Heavyweight Champion, as well as Rick Dickulous raising the Silver Mountain Championship overhead and the McKeesport Mafia raising the Tag Team Championships from the turnbuckles.
Hanson: "Welcome to N*FW, ladies and gentlemen! We are one week removed from Reckoning Day! Definitely an exciting show. If you didn't catch it, you don't know what you missed!"
Reynolds: "We have three new champions, Nicky. THREE!"
Hanson: "That we do, partner. Granted we knew we'd have two as they were initial crownings, we witnessed one hell of a match for the Silver Mountain Championship. Granted, there *did* seem to be a little conspiracy behind it."
Reynolds: "Yeah, I hope we get some answers for that."
Hanson: "We'll see what happens, but right now? Let's get this show started with...well...while we're on the topic...championship action!"
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In a 2:15 squash match, Vincent Stone put up as much of a fight as he could against Belphegor. However, the strength and raw power of the TV Champion was too much for the smaller man's wild striking and after a stiff Jackhammer, Belphegor scored the pin to retain the title.
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We see a 2019 Porsche 911 pull up to the arena..and man and woman get out of the car...
Interviewer " Mr Townsend..you have your debut match tonight... Whats your thoughts??..
Clarence Fletcher Townsend "You want my thoughts... whoever my opponent is.. will remember the name...Clarence Fletcher Townsend."
Interviewer 2 "Clarence Townsend.. word is that you are facing someone thats not wrestled in a while.. how do you figure strategy?"
Clerance Fletcher Townsend "You say my name wrong and you want me to tell you my strategy? Get outta here....Come on Victoria"
They go into the arena. After a couple minutes we hear the same voice.. " Damn it where in the hell is my locker room...?" Clarence finds a backstage audio guy and asks him --Clerance " Hey you kid.. Wheres my dressing room?" Audio guy " Its down the hall and off to the left..."
Clarence "Thank you sir"
Scene closes.
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Backstage, in what looks to be the boiler room of the building, we see a hulking form in the darkness that enshrouds the entire room. A monster of a man, standing in front of the main furnace. Its old design leaves exposed flames through the window to illuminate the terrifying skull mask of the largest of the Dominion of Pains members.
The hood of his jacket being up, leaves Doomsday looking even more terrifying as the flames reflect off of his mask. Only the gleam from his pupils serve as a view for his eyes. “She did well...didn’t she...?” His deep, low voice breaks the silence then as he suddenly speaks to someone currently off camera.
"She did VERY well." Came the response, from the Dominion's manager, LeeAnn Viskan. As usual, she looked far too sweet to be the evil mastermind she was, hair in a ponytail and wearing black jeans and (sweetly) a House of Payne tee.. "Her submission game is so strong you'd think I trained her myself. Can you imagine what she'd be like right now if she'd have let me, instead of pushing everyone away?"
A sigh escapes Doomsday that sounds more like the low growl of a large engine. “That’s why I’m here....” Doomsday turns towards the woman that wasn’t just the Dominion’s manager but a long time friend of his, among others, who had helped him through tougher times in life. “...I can appreciate her brutality...but who she aims it at...that ain’t her. And I don’t want her to go down with the rest of those bastards....”
"I can appreciate your sentiment, Matteo. I can." LeeAnn told the big man, a rare hint of sympathy in her voice. "If that was Marissa behaving like that... I would want to save her. But while I'm your friend, and a fellow parent.... when I'm here I'm the manager of The Dominion. And mercy is not something I do. So I'll say this: work fast. Get her away from them Because if she chooses to come at me? For any reason? I may be 42 years old, and much smaller than her.... but I will not hesitate to snap her leg like a twig."
Doomsday just nodded. “If I didn’t understand that, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Not with you all, anyway. But...I understand ‘tough love’ and if I can’t reach her...that might be up to you.” Here, he turned from LeeAnn to the camera, addressing his daughter in hopes she was watching.
“My motto as of late has been No Mercy For All. But let me make one disclaimer: I’d like to exclude you from that, Adrianna. I’d *like* to. I don’t know what made you fall into this Circle of Snakes, but you’re becoming far from the girl I raised. The one that everyone helped me raise when....” He grunts and shakes a thought away. “I came here...came out of retirement...to do what it takes. *Whatever* it takes.... Hear those words, Abaddon...I will go through anyone to take back something you’ve stolen. And if you think my age is a factor in any of that, you’re right. I *am* older than most of the kids back in the locker room. But it’s like you saw on those wildlife shows. The ones you probably say with your parents and watched as a kid like most did. The young predators like to mess with the old lion. Pick at him...test his patience...until they do something that he loses that patience. And that old lion gets up...and tears the hell out of everyone around him. You...have woken up the beast. Judas may have you in his sights now, but believe me when I say...I’m gonna get a piece. First, though, I wanna make an example. I’m *going* to make an example...the Dominion’s animal...is coming for yours. Belphegor...I want you to watch everything I do to these poor souls that stand in my way of doing what I came here to do. I didn’t pick up that call from Judas and LeeAnn to get in the ring with a bunch of two bit punks but, under contract, I have my job for tonight. I’m gonna make it quick...and I want you to pay attention. As for you...Colt Shields?” He may have been wearing a mask but the way his head turns towards LeeAnn begs us to speculate if he’s wondering about the choice of name.
He looks back at the camera then. “This is where anyone else would say they hope you have good insurance because of the beating you’re about to get. But there’s no insurance plan for total annihilation....”
LeeAnn couldn't help the sweet-but-sadistic smile that crept onto her face as she shook her head. "I almost feel bad for you jackasses... ALMOST. You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. And for that matter... what you've gotten all of N*FW into, once we're done with you."
Doomsday’s shoulders shook as if he were laughing silently. “To put it simply...for the ones who can’t read between the lines...the clock has begun ticking. The seals have been broken...and the horsemen have begun to ride.” He lifts his head again, glaring into the camera through his mask and from under his hood. “The first to ride during the end times...was War. The one who brought about chaos and bloodshed across the entire land. Colt Shields...Belphegor...N*FW...come and see...gaze upon the first horseman. The harbinger of doom...of total obliteration.... Tonight...the countdown to destruction...begins.”
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Returning from the commercial break, the second match of the night saw Doomsday's first match in almost ten years. Obviously angry at their previous encounter which cost him advancement in the World Title Tournament, Colt Shields opened up with hard shots to the bigger man's midsection right at the start of the bell. Even though he was getting up there in age, Doomsday resembled his younger days in the fact that he stood there like a wall, absorbing the blows. It wasn't until Colt goaded him into taking his best shot and slapped him across the mask that Doomsday grabbed the man's head in his enormous hands like a vice and nailed him with a headbutt that floored him instantly.
Dazed, Colt climbed to his feet as Doomsday came off the ropes with his signature clothesline he called the Shockwave.
Reynolds: "DID YOU SEE THE WAY SHIELDS FLIPPED THROUGH THE AIR!"
Hanson: "I did indeed, Jim! He ain't a small guy, either!"
Reynolds: "The hell's Doomsday doing now?"
Finally, Doomsday pulled Colt up by the hair and set him up for something the fans had never seen from him before. The 6'10" monster popped Colt Shields about eight feet into the air with a pumphandle flatliner that he referred to as The Fallout. Rolling him over, Doomsday went for the cover, tossing his hair back as he glared through his mask at the camera, scoring the pinfall at 1:32.
Hanson: "WOOOOOOW!!!!"
Reynolds: "He said he wanted to send Belphegor a message and I think he just did!"
Hanson: "Jim...our first two matches of the card were less than five minutes combined...."
Reynolds: "Right?! I wonder what's gonna happen if these two bang heads!"
Hanson: "Oh there's no 'if' buddy. It's a matter of 'when.'"
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"I'm here backstage to speak with NFW Champion Scott Leroux, and William Mannheim, the man who brought the stable known as The Great White North together."
*Behind Amy Connors' beaming face, Mannheim and Scott Leroux can be seen talking quietly. As Amy and the camera begin closing the gap, the two men bump fists and turn to face her*
"Gentlemen, thanks for giving us some time tonight. You guys seemed to be pretty deep in conversation there, care to tell us what you were talking about?"
*Mannheim smiles at Amy*
"Just exchanging old war stories, Amy, you know how us oldtimers are."
*He winks at Amy, who turns her attention to Scott Leroux*
"Only because Kennedy isnt here right now." Scott said, a big cocky grin on his face. "If she was, conversation isn't what I'd be deep in."
*Amy Connors looks at Scott with a confused and slightly disgusted look on her face*
"I-uhh, I don't think I want to know what you'd be deep in, Mr. Leroux, but I'm certain it's not very family friendly..."
"Lemme help you out here, babe. You're here to congratulate me on becoming the NEWWWWWW N*FW World Heavyweight Champion. And thank you, Amy... I'd say I'm honored, but goddammit I deserve it." Leroux said, snapping his gum and clapping Willy on the back. "Me and Big Willy here... we might not have the creepiness of the Circle, or the theatrics of The Dominion, but you know what? We're the most lowkey dangerous group IN this bitch. You got the most violent guy in N*FW history, and the most lethal submission wrestler in the world... on the same page now. And with Pitt? And Rick? Plus Piso and Kennedy? Yeah... let's see ANYONE try to fuck with this."
*Mannheim nods*
"It's true, Amy. I didn't come to Scott and Kennedy for no reason, just like I didn't call Piso for no reason after Adam Cole tried to frame him! I know Pitt and Rick have my back no matter what, they're family. Now we're all family. Truthfully, Amy...we're solid. To coin a phrase; none of us are here to fuck the dog!"
*Amy continues*
"Mr. Leroux, what's next for The Great White North? What are the plans for the future?"
"We're together for a few pretty solid reasons. First? To watch each others' backs. In case you haven't noticed... it's getting pretty clique-y around here." Leroux said, taking a second to polish a spot off of his Championship belt. "Second? Me, Willy, and Pitt? We have nothing else to prove. We're here now to have some fun, win some titles, and make sure this place is left in the hands of talent capable of living up to the standards we set."
*Mannheim chimes in*
"And we have some incredibly high standards - but that's all part of being Canadian, Amy."
*Mannheim bumps fists with Scott*
"Do you have any final words for the fans at home, gentlemen?"
*Mannheim shrugs*
"If you don't like it....deal with it?"
Leroux winced slightly, shaking his head. "C'mon man... that shit's older than Lasher. We gotta come up with SOMETHING new..."
"What, then? Old Man Winter? Winter is coming? Hide from the storm?"
*Mannheim shakes his head, eyes closed. He motions as if he's centering himself*
"I'll work on it..."
Scott shook his head, smirking at Amy. "See? He's working on it." He turned back to Willy as the camera fades out, "Something like 'is your name Winter? Cos you're about to be coming'?"
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In his debut match with N*FW, Clarence Fletcher Townsend defeated Satoru Shade III in a 10:54 contest, demonstrating rather impressive technical and traditional wrestling prowess. He ended the match with his signature move, a discus punch he called the Money Shot. After the bell, Townsend added insult to injury by locking Shade into a Camel Clutch he referred to as Breaking Wall Street; the man keeping the hold locked in until the referee managed to pull him off and he exited, arm in arm with Victoria Emmerson and a cocky, white collar smirk on his face.
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Backstage, the camera finds Nico Salvatore storming in from the parking lot. Dressed in high dollar black slacks, a crisp blue silk shirt and black shoes, he carries his bag in one hand. After a moment, we hear a voice call his name offscreen.
“Nico! Excuse me, Nico!”
Nico stops in his tracks and rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh as Josh Andrews hurries into frame with a microphone.
“The fuck do you want, f’nuc?”
Josh Andrews clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh...s-sorry. I know you just got in—“
“No shit! I’m not here five minutes and you’re crawlin’ up my ass already. Whattaya want, a fuckin’ autograph?”
Josh Andrews swallows nervously. “Well...no, I—“
Nico sticks a finger in his face. “Then get the fuck away from me!” He brushes passed Josh, continuing on. Josh calls after him.
“I, umm...I just wanted to get a few words from you about Reckoning Day!”
Nico stops in his tracks. A look of murder comes over his face as he turns and starts walking back over to him. “What’d you say?”
With a look like he’s about to be the target of a rabid wolf, Josh Andrews begins to quiver. “I-I-I just—“ Nico snatches the mic out of his hand and bowls up on him. “You wanna talk about Reckoning Day?! Huh?! What’s to talk about?! I beat Tyson Law’s ass just like I said I would! I got nothin’ t’say t’him!” Nico is *fuming* as he pauses and recalls something. “But there is something I wanna talk about, now that you mention it.” He turns towards the camera. “Your fuckin’ boys, Tyson! I don’t know who they are, I don’t know what their game is. They come in here, one of ‘em lays out two thirds of the McKeesport Mafia, almost takes out a couple of dumbasses that used to be hot shit. I don’t mind that. I don’t care one damn bit. But now you motherfuckers wanna come at *me*?! I know Tyson’s gonna deny it like Bill did Monica but I know a punk ass bitch when I see one! You wanna play the fuckin’ gangland game? I am the *wrong* motherfucker to play that with! You two think you’re a couple o’tough guys, then come at me. COME - THE FUCK - AT ME! I’ll beat you both like the sneaky little pussies you are! You’re gonna need those masks when I get done fuckin’ you up ugly!”
He shoves the microphone against Josh Andrews chest. “Take this and get the fuck outta my face!” He says as he storms off screen and the shot fades out on the speechless interviewer.
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Despite her burn injury sustained from Reckoning Day, Candi Brodeur put up a hard fight against Shelley Silver. However, Silver still came out as the victor after hitting the Sundown and scoring the pinfall after 7:05. Officials then moved in to check on Candi and her burned back, helping her towards the backstage area.
Hanson: "Oh, I hope she's okay, Jim. I hate to see this."
Reynolds: "Well, when you play with fire, ya get burned. Am I right?"
Hanson: "Can you just ONCE show some class?"
Reynolds: "How do ya mean?"
Hanson: "How about this; next time you think of some crap like that to say, keep your mouth shut."
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Scene opens as we hear a familiar voice on phone...
"Yea Just like i told you... Its gotta have that in it somewhere" as the scene continues we do not hear who is on the other end of the line and the camera spans up and its Ryan Steele
Ryan-" Now this is my project, if you goof this up.. the deal is off....
Ryan continues " You heard me, My lawyer will be involved, I want this to look good"..... " Ok man you got 72 hours.. after that my lawyers are involved" Ryan hangs up phone....
After that.. He says clearly " Now i gotta get ready to beat this idiot senseless"....
Scene closes.
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Sitting in her rocking chair, Rosemary is sitting among the ashes, caused by the hated Erin Mercer. The sound of the creaking is drowned out by footsteps coming closer. Rounding the corner Vincent Stone, looks at his mother, grimaces and sits down on a crate with a look like “what do we do now”.
"Hello son, we know you have many questions for us. We are listening, please ask away."
She is looking at him with adoration in her eyes and waits patiently for the questions to come.
Dressed, as usual in his new Hands of Decay ring gear, Stone wears a look of confusion under his, otherwise, menacing face paint. He looks more like a lost child than the fierce animal he has become inside a ring.
“Why…? Why did this happen, mother?” Stone moves off of the crate, onto his knees where he places a hand on one of Rosemary’s with desperation coming over him. “Why did that woman do this?!” Something catches his attention off camera that he tries to ignore at first. He stays focused on Rosemary. “She’s gonna pay right? She *has* to pay!” Frowning, he looks up and off camera again. “Mother...why is *she* here…?”
At the nod of his head, the camera pans over and up, the shot widening some to keep the Hive Mother and son in the frame while also revealing Angel standing off to the side, silently. Rather than her ring gear. She wears black leather street clothes with her hair left to shroud her face from the side.
Stone continues, moving more against Rosemary. “Is she...a friend?”
Smiling at her son, stroking his hair while she rocks away. She looks up at Angel and beckons her to join them. Caring not if she actually moves she goes back to answering the questions.
"Are you familiar with the colours of the rainbow? The reds, green and purples that make up some of the best art work the Shadow paints with in his multiverse, well the colours are ascribed to people as well Vinny. The phrase “we are all stardust” takes on new meaning when you think of it this way. She did it because her colours are out of alignment. Have of her is red with anger, at us, at you. Mostly, angry with herself. Let us explain. How many times have we, destroyed her? Can you recall??"
Sitting back and crossing his legs, Stone gazes upward, touching a finger to his chin - almost comically - in thought. “...Umm...as many times as she’s tried to cross us?” Despite his earlier mood, the realization that they have never been bested by Erin Mercer, causes him to break into a maniacal snicker. Meanwhile, Angel looks on silently as if unbothered by the unhinged duo’s behavior. Once Stone regains his composure, he looks back up at Rosemary like a concerned, curious child. “But...she’s still gonna pay right? We can’t let her get away with burning our *home* and then attacking you during your match with that other girl? What do we do about that?” Something seems to click in his head and he looks up at Angel again. “Wait...is that why she’s here? Does she hate little insects too?”
Rosemary nods at him. “All answers in due time son. The other reason why Erin hates us, especially you is the she is green. Green with jealousy and envy. She is mad that she can’t beat us, ever, in or out of the ring, and jealous of your new found fame and fortune. As far as to why *points at Angel* the fallen one is here is she is a new sister to the Hive. We have a plan to dominate the federation, because we can, and the little insect is the first step towards total domination."
Vincent Stone looks back up at Angel with awe on his painted face. “Y-you...you’re...so...you’re like my sister, then!” Stone suddenly hops to his feet and takes a step towards the woman with his arms out like he’s going for a hug. Angel, instead, poises herself like a cobra ready to strike anyone who gets too close or makes too sudden of a movement. Stone stops and pouts comically, lowering his arms. “Sister doesn’t like hugs, does she?” He asks to Rosemary. Only when she sees that Stone is ceasing his advance, does Angel relax her stance, reaching up to fix the raised collar of her jacket and refolding her arms. Stone tilts his head. “Mother...does sister talk?”
“Sister let’s her actions do the talking for her. She is equally committed to dominance they way we are. That is why we got together for former S.O.S. The Sisters of Sin. To either redeem the insect or stamp the insect out, once and for all."
Stone looks quietly from Rosemary to Angel then back to Rosemary. “So...the jealous one might be my sister, too? But if she doesn’t...we get to crush her, right?”
Rosemary nods at him, and gets up briefly and walks off camera and returns with a bag. Handing over the contents of the bags insides, it is Rosemary masks, for both of them, obviously from marketing, bringing new meaning to We Are Rosemary, her twitter handle.
"Our gifts, to both of you. This Sunday, we have given the little vermin the keys to the kingdom, let’s see if she uses them or is a scared little puppy, afraid of her own shadow. We presume she will continue to lash out, until she too accepts our teachings, just like you both have."
She sits back down in her rocking chair, and waits for reactions.
And like a child on Christmas morning, Stone eagerly accepts his, sliding the mask over his face and mimics his mother’s pose, reclining back on his knees. His voice, now muffled under the mask, is full of demented joy. “Thank you, mother! This is the best gift ever!”
Angel, meanwhile, looks down at the mask in her hands and tilts her head, thoughtfully. She finally nods and keeps the mask at her side.
Sitting back up, Stone looks between his mother and new sister. “I can’t wait to crush us a little insect!”
Here, as if perfectly on cue, the silent Angel looks down at something on the floor that has caught her eye. The camera pans down to the three pairs of feet of the trio as a large palmetto bug crawls across the floor, oblivious in moving near Angel’s boot. The toe of the boot lifts up, granting a path for the insect. Yet, as it scurried underneath, naive on what is to come, the boot lowers down, slowly comes down, crushing it beneath the sole. When the camera pans back up to their face’s, Angel is suddenly wearing the Rosemary mask with her blue eyes piercing through the holes and staring right back at the viewers through the camera. Focusing in on all three just silently watching, static slowly takes over the screen before the word ‘SIN’ comes into view before fading out to black.
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"Hi, everyone! Alex Brody here, standing outside the women's locker room." The young, dark-haired beauty gave an adorably bright smile, straightening out her suit-skirt. "I'm waiting to get a word with Erin Mercer, who as of late seems to be fighting for the very soul of her best friend, Vincent Stone."
She knocked on the door, clearing her throat as she called into the room.
"Ms. Mercer? It's Alex Brody... can I have a minute of your time?"
After a moment, the door opens, and Erin Mercer appears. Already dressed in her ring gear, sans her jacket, she looks at Alex and the camera man. Despite her recent mood, she manages a polite smile to the girl. “I guess I got a minute.” She closes the door and comes to stand outside of her locker room beside Alex Brody, managing her brightest smile. “What’s up, Alex?”
Alex gave an apologetic smile so sincere it just made you want to hug the girl. "SO sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know what the next step for you is? Clearly Rosemary has help now, and with Stone and Angel both on her side... things don't look super hopeful for you."
Erin’s smile, albeit already forced, dropped and she turned completely serious. “Honestly? I don’t know where I’m gonna go from here or how to go about it. Angel and Rosemary joining forces? This whole ‘Sisters of Sin’ thing? I don’t know what their game plan is. Frankly, I don’t care. When I was still a student, one of my mentors told me that even if you’re outmanned and outgunned, you can still win. All it takes is superior attitude and superior state of mind. I’m not gonna toot my own horn but in this instance? My attitude and drive is far greater than Rosemary’s. She thinks this is all fun and games but this is personal to me. The one that taught me that lesson is currently following her around like a brainwashed minion and I will *not* stop until I put an end to it...or lose my career trying....”
Alex looked at her for a moment, as though deep in thought, before taking a deep breath and replying. "Erin, I've heard some talk around the locker room... and I can tell you you aren't alone. I can't break anyone's confidence, but I know for a fact that at least one woman plans to come to your aid. So please... I think I speak for all of us when I say to hang in there, that help is on the way."
For once, Erin actually looks genuinely surprised. Leaning back slightly before regaining her posture. “That so?” She smiles. Faintly, but genuinely. “Listen...I don’t really know any of the other girls here that well yet. So I won’t even begin to try and guess.” She looks to the camera. “Whoever you are...if you’re watching...I’m not asking for help. I’m not gonna ask anyone to help me with this fight, especially with how dangerous it is. But I know the odds are stacked against me so I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. And I’m not gonna spit in the face of anyone who wants to truly come down this road with me.” She turns towards Alex again. “You tell this person, Alex, however...if she’s just blowing smoke to you and trying to get me to drop my guard? If she turns out to be another one of Rosemary’s nutjob allies trying to set me up? I’ll end her ass just like that.” Erin snaps her fingers.
"I... I... I'll pass the message along." Alex stammered, before nibbling her lip nervously and shuffling away hurriedly.
Erin frowned then, as if she felt bad about scaring the poor interviewer. “Umm...later Alex! We should get drinks later!” She sighs then, looking down. “Get a grip on yourself, E. You can do this.” Erin Mercer turns and returns to inside her locker room, closing the door as the camera focuses on her name plate and fades out.
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The match between Ryan Steele and Nico Salvatore...was a referee's worse nightmare in terms of upholding order. Between the two of them, the referee found himself breaking up multiple holds out of the corners, yelling at both men to get their opponent off the ropes, and to watch multiple offenses like thumbs to the eyes and blows that came dangerously close to the belt.
Neither Nico nor Ryan were having any of it as the two took turns snapping obscenities in each other's faces. Nico, at one, point struck Ryan with an elbow to the jaw and called for him to come back with his own best shot which was an insulting SLAP to the face.
Reynolds: "These two are going AT IT, Nicky!"
Hanson: "You can say that again! Look at the look on Morgan Payne's face!"
Morgan, whom had accompanied Ryan to ringside, looked on at the brutality with shock and concern. However, she abided by the rules and stayed out of it completely until Nico hit Ryan with another thumb to the eye. This prompted her to climb up onto the apron and begin yelling, albeit comically in her accent, to the referee.
'EY REF!! WHATTAYA DOIN'?! Y'NEED Y'EYES CHECKED?! THAT'S A DQ!"
This served a distraction to the referee and, while he had his back turned, Ryan Steel hit a vicious kick below the belt of Nico Salvatore.
Hanson: "OH, COME ON!!! WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Reynolds: "A SHOT T'THE FACKIN' PILLS, NICKY!"
Hanson: "Jim, don't you *ever* attempt a Pittsburgh accent again...."
Reynolds: "Did you see how Morgan distracted the referee?"
Hanson: "I don't think she meant to."
As the referee finally managed to get Morgan down and turned back to the action, Ryan Steele popped up off of the mat and drove Nico Salvatore down with the Chaos Theory, covering him for the pinfall at 12:42.
After Ryan Steele and Morgan Payne left, Nico recovered in the ring. Regaining his footing, he called for a mic, snatching it from the announcer. Oddly, he wasn't even focused on his cheap loss just then. Instead, his focus seems to be on the two mysterious men from the previous week.
"I guess I was right all along, huh?!” He turns towards the stage, addressing the man in the back. “You two ain’t shit but a couple o’pussies! You’re fine with jumping a guy from behind but as soon as he calls you out where are ya?!”
Hanson: “I gotta say he’s got a point.”
Reynolds: “Yeeeaah maybe. But don’t ya think he’s pushing it a little?”
Hanson: “He obviously doesn’t think so.”
“So what’s up, huh?” Nico extends his free hand out to the side in a large shrug. “Where the fuck are ya?! The two of you can’t take on one guy face to face? You gotta hide in the ba—“ Nico stops short as the curtain on the stage opens and out come the two attackers from Reckoning Day. The one in the blue and red mask, with the newer man in purple and yellow right at his side. Nico smiles.
“There ya guys are! C’mon, I’m right here! I’M RIGHT HERE!” He throws down the mic and readies himself.
Hanson: “Wait, is he really gonna do this? He just had a match!”
Reynolds: “Dude, leave it alone. He’s from Brooklyn.”
Hanson: “So?!”
Reynolds: “So the dude’s batshit insane.”
Meanwhile, the two masked men reach the ring and calmly enter, coming to stand before Nico. The one in the blue mask looks Nico over up and down and appears to laugh. Reaching over to slap his buddy in the arm and point at him like ‘can you believe this guy?’ While he’s doing that, Nico springs into action! He rushes the one in blue, tackling him into the corner and starts throwing shots at him. Surprisingly, the fans actually POP for the man.
Hanson: “HERE WE GO! I TRY TO BE UNBIASED BUT NICO JUST MAY BE CRAZY ENOUGH TO PULL THIS OFF!”
Reynolds: “EEEYYYY HOW YOU DOIN’?!”
Hanson: “Please, don’t do that again.”
Behind Nico, the one in the purple mask grabs at him. Nico turns sharply and catches him with an elbow. He turns and starts laying into him next. However, when Nico cocks back and swings for a big hook, the man in purple ducks under it. Nico turns just in time for - *SMACK* - a hard superkick more akin to a martial artist than the regular wrestling version, delivered by the one in blue. Spit goes flying as Nico drops and the two stand over him.
Next, the man in blue makes a gesture to the one in purple. The man in the purple mask begins to viciously stomp and beat Nico while the man in the blue goes out of the ring and grabs a chair. He tosses it into the ring before grabbing a second and sliding back into the ring. Once both men have chairs in their hands, they stand on either side of Nico as he begins slowly trying to get to his feet. As he does, they ready for what looks about to be a nasty con-chair-to move.
Hanson: “Aw no, they can’t do this! This is gonna cause some damage!”
Reynolds: “He knew what the hell he was getting into when he called them out but I agree, Nicky. Someone’s gotta stop this!”
Just when it looked like the masked men were going to truly hurt Salvatore, Tyson Law came bolting out from the locker room, running down the aisle and sliding into the ring. Kicking at both of the masked me, he then stood between them and Nico, protecting his opponent from last week from further harm.
Hanson: “WAIT, JIMMY! HERE COMES TYSON LAW!!”
Reynolds: “What the hell’s he doing out here?! He gonna help these boys out?!”
Hanson: “Doesn’t look like it! If my vision’s right, he’s here to even the odds!”
Both of the masked men break away from Nico and step back beside each other with their chairs ready. Nico starts to get to his feet the rest of the way. The one in the blue mask lowers his chair and makes a gesture to Tyson and Nico as if to ask ‘you two against us?’ He tosses the chair aside and gestures with one hand for Tyson to bring it. Nico looks at Tyson, confused at first. Then he looks to his attackers. Back at Tyson. He looks at the crowd and shrugs before turning to face the two masked men again and returns the ‘bring it’ gesture, followed by flipping his hand under his chin and shooting the middle finger at both of them.
Hanson: “Ohhhhh my god, Jimmy. I have to admit, I’m ready for this shit to kick off!”
Reynolds: “...Did you just curse, Nicky?”
Hanson: *clearing his throat* “Ahem. Sorry, folks.”
Reynolds: “Wimp.”
The crowd, meanwhile, is on their feet, rooting for Tyson and Nico to take it to the men who had been running amok on N*FW for about a month now.
Tyson draped an arm over Nico's shoulders, a big smile on his face.... before spinning him into a snap DDT on the chair Nico had thrown down!
As he stood over Nico, scowling down at him, he waved his hand to call the masked men back into the ring!
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL?!”
Reynolds: “MAN!!!! NICO JUST GOT LAID OUT!!”
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”
Reynolds: “ISN’T IT OBVIOUS?!”
Meanwhile, the two masked men slide back into the ring, shoulders shaking with laughter as the one in the blue mask walks up and clasps Tyson’s hand before embracing him like a brother.
Hanson: “You gotta be kidding me! It’s three on one now!”
As the crowd looks on in shock at Tyson’s actions, the man with the blue mask takes Nico by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. He hooks his arms behind his back and, just like at Reckoning Day, delivers a butterfly piledriver in the center of the ring.
Reynolds: “JEEEEESUS!! That just LOOKS painful, Nicky!”
Hanson: “We need some answers! We *deserve* answers!”
One might have thought Nick Hanson was a mind reader then, as the man with the blue mask reached down and snatched up the mic Nico was using. He taps it a few times, sending a resounding *thump thump thump* through the speakers. Rather than lift it to his own mouth, though, he pauses and looks over at Tyson. His shoulders shake with laughter again as he hands the mic to the man and pats him on the back, leaning in to whisper something as he points across the arena at audience.
Reynolds: “I think he wants Tyson to say something.”
Hanson: “I wanna hear what those two have to say, damn it!”
Tyson grabbed the mic from his new teammate, staring daggers down at the still unconscious Nico.
"First thing's first.... this dumb bastard right here. He really, REALLY thought that after weeks of dragging my name through the mud, of humiliating me, of making a goddamn joke out of me... just a simple 'atta boy' was going to make everything better? Screw you, pal. We're gonna make your life a living hell." He looked out to the fans, before the man in the purple and yellow mask handed him, once again, the shirt they'd offered him last week. This time, Tyson eagerly put it on, before looking at the two men. "We've all been overlooked. Underrated. Tossed aside by fans and promoters alike, just so they could make room for all the goddamn relics that keep hogging up all the air time. Time for that shit... is over."
The man in the blue mask took the mic from Tyson, giving him a fist bump before slowly walking around the ring, thoughtfully. Finally, he raised the mic and, although muffled slightly from his mask, he spoke clearly.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He said, for starters. “Relics...hogging the air time. That’s EXACTLY what this company has become! That’s EXACTLY what professional wrestling as a whole has become! So much talent, so many young wrestlers - men and women alike - superstars in their *prime* are left to rot on the independent circuit because you have washed up old bastards who are too damn selfish to hang up the boots when the time is right!”
Hanson: “Oh what on Earth is he talking about?”
Reynolds: “Actually ya know? He’s kinda right, Nicky.”
Hanson: “You’re agreeing with him?!”
The masked man in blue continues. “Let’s look at the trending names in professional wrestling today.” He raises a fist and begins counting fingers. The crowd pops with each name. “The McKeesport Mafia...Scott Leroux...Shelton Benjamin...Pitt and Mannheim....” He drops his hand again and looks up. “I could keep going but I’d throw up in my own mouth. Meanwhile, you’ve got guys like Tyson here!” He turns, pointing at Tyson and lightly jabbing a finger in the man’s chest. “This guy right here is among one of the greatest young stars to ever step into a wrestling ring of this generation!” He turns back to the crowd. “And yeah, sure. He got noticed. He got signed to this company. But what has he got to show for it? A TV title shot? Let’s be real; nobody gives a DAMN about the TV title! Someone like this guy...” He points to Tyson again. “He should have been entered into the World Title tournament! But he wasn’t. Where did they stick him? At the start of the damn show! Hell, he should have been in the ladder match for the Silver Mountain Championship! But he wasn’t.”
The masked man turns back around to the crowd. “You know who was? A bunch of has beens and a spoon fed idiot who’s daddy *used* to be a badass in this company! I’m talking to you, Rick Dickulous. The only reason you got a contract in this company is because your old man and his bumbling tumor of a tag partner used to waltz around here and beat people up and all of you motherfuckers watching right now, ate up every goddamn bit of it!” As he says this, he points around at the fans.
Hanson: “Oh come on, that’s not true!”
Reynolds: “Let the man talk, Nicky!”
“And then there’s you!” The man leans down over Nico Salvatore. “You and Rick have something in common. The old fame junkies? They’re not the only ones we’re out to get rid of! It’s guys like you! A bunch of useless, self entitled, second generation dicks that only got here because their mommy or daddy used to be in the Top 10 over fifteen fucking years ago!”
He stands up straight again to address the fans. “It’s kept guys like Tyson, here, down. It’s kept guys like *us* down!” He gestures between himself and his colleague in the purple mask. “And we are SICK and TIRED of it!!” Lowering the mic, he turns towards his partner and tosses the microphone to him to say his piece.
The other masked man caught the microphone, leaning against the ropes. "The best part of all this is that these fucking promoters... they tell you every like they can think of just to get your name on that dotted line. They promise you pushes. They tell you alllll you gotta do is change your name. Pretend to be someone you aren't. And they'll make you a star. BITCH I *AM* A STAR. I ALWAYS WAS! You sons of bitches didn't make me... you RUINED me! We're all sick of being your doormats. From now on? The Renegades are taking what we want... and kicking the asses of anyone who gets in our way."
The first original assailant out of the two took the mic back and clasped his friend’s hand, stepping back and fist bumping him. “And ya see, that’s the thing that gets me the most. We sacrificed for you people. We bled for you people! *I* put scars on my body inside and out for you people! And you FORGOT ABOUT US! Body...” He thumbs to himself. “Heart....” He points to Tyson Law. “Soul...” Then to the other masked man. “That’s what we gave to you. And what did we get in return? We got erased.”
He gestures the camera man to come closer so he can get right up in the lens in the corner. “Well now...we’re here to erase the ones that should have been forgotten a long time ago. All of you in the back...all of you ‘veterans’ who still think you can hang. Consider this...our declaration of war. We fired the first shot right here...but it ain’t the last. Tonight...the we pull the pin on the grenade....”
Tossing the mic out of the ring, he steps back with Tyson and the other masked man as “Renegade” by Hollywood Undead starts up as they leave the ring.
Hanson: “Wait, after all that just now, there’s more coming?!”
Reynolds: “Looks like the locker room better batten down the hatches, Nicky.”
Hanson: “You’re amused by this, aren’t you?”
Reynolds: “I’m intrigued.”
Hanson: “Whatever.”
The shot fades out as the three men take their leave up the ramp with the song still playing.
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Despite the physical punishment being dealt by the more experienced veteran that was Rosemary, Erin Mercer once again showed a refusal to stay down and quit. She dished out about as much as she took until she finally managed to start wearing Rosemary down, eventually landing her signature 'twerking moonsault' on the Hive Mother. As she began to call for the Angel Trap, however, Vincent Stone - still wearing his Rosemary mask - climbed up onto the apron and began shouting at Erin to leave Rosemary alone.
Erin, frustrated by the distraction, approached her former friend, beginning to plead with him. After a moment of yelling at him to snap out of it, Erin SNATCHED the mask off of his face and held it up in anger.
"This isn't you!" She could be heard saying. "THIS ISN'T YOU, VIN!" Then, to Stone's shock, Erin dropped the mask and brought her boot down on it with a crunch. Stone's face, under his paint, looked like a child who had just watched a cherished toy be broken. As he looked on in absolute horror, Erin stepped back shaking her head. "I'm gonna help you, Vin. This isn't you!"
Moving passed her, the referee began yelling at Stone to get off the apron. This granted an opening for Rosemary, as Erin turned around, to catch her in the face with green mist before scooping her up and dropping her with the Red Wedding for the pin at 9:14.
As Rosemary's music played, Vincent Stone hurried into the ring and picked up his mask, trying desperately to piece it together. Meanwhile, Angel slid gracefully into the ring and came to stand over Erin Mercer beside her new partner.
Hanson: "Oh god, what now? What's coming?"
Reynolds: "I don't know exactly, Nicky. But I bet it ain't---"
~I'm become- I'm become- I'm becoming....~
Reynolds: "THE HELL?!"
Hanson: "KID CTHULHU?!"
Surely enough, as Fozzy's "Judas" began playing over the speakers, the beloved, green clad underdog of the women's division, crawled her way through the smoke before popping up and racing down the ramp, towards the ring like a bullet!!
As she did, Angel broke away from Rosemary and Erin Mercer, sliding out of the ring to intercept. Cthulhu shot passed her, only to pop up onto the apron and leap off with a stunning moonsault that brought the white haired woman down.
Hanson: "THIS MUST BE THE HELP THAT ALEX BRODY WAS TALKING ABOUT!!"
While yelling at the interference from inside the ring, Rosemary stepped towards the ropes. Behind her, Erin Mercer got to her feet, sneering through the green smudged across her face. She got to her feet, spun Rosemary around and began throwing elbows and chops at her, finally clotheslining her out of the ring.
Hanson: "AND OUT GOES ROSEMARY!!"
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL DOES KID CTHULHU THINK SHE'S DOING?! THIS ISN'T HER FIGHT!"
Hanson: "She's evening the odds, Jimmy!"
With Rosemary and Angel out on the floor, being joined by Vincent Stone with his broken mask in hand, Kid Cthulhu slid into the ring to stand beside Erin Mercer. The latter turned to look at her unexpected savior as Kid Cthulhu turned and offered out a handshake. After a moment of hesitation, Erin Mercer broke into a smile and clasped the hand, pulling the girl into a hug. The two continued to stand together as they watched the Sisters of Sin and Vincent Stone retreat up the ramp.
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Buzzsaw defeated Matt Klazzic in a short, 5:09 contest with the Buzzsaw Kick. A shot that the entire crowd felt as they heard the impact.
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The Crimson Sabre defeated Connor K in 6:15 with a stunning Tiger Suplex, pin combination.
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Appearing for the second time that night, Kid Cthulhu fought to prove that heart mattered more than size in the ring as she squared off against Apocalypta once more. The beginning of the match went as most would probably expect, in the fact that the Women's Champion used her power and brutal strikes and grapples to punish the smaller, masked girl.
A couple of moments into the match, however, while Kid Cthulhu was catching her breath on the apron, Apocalypta approached and seized her by the hair with her taped arm...and Cthulhu dropped down, YANKING the arm down over the ropes to break the hold. It worked enough that Apocalypta audibly yelled out in pain and clutched her arm as she stumbled back to the center of the ring and took a knee.
Hanson: "Size matters, my ass, Jim! This little girl just brought champion off of her feet! And here she comes again!"
Seeing an opportunity, to the delight of the crowd, Kid Cthulhu slid into the ring and pushed herself against the ropes, running passed Apocalypta to bounce off the opposite end before hitting a basement dropkick right into her shoulder. Again, Apocalypta couldn't help but let her pain be heard, proving she was only human when it boiled down to it.
Reynolds: "If she's not careful, she could break that arm!"
Hanson: "That might be what she wants, Jim!"
It could very well have been as Kid Cthulhu immediately went for the injured arm and landed a kneedrop out of a handstand right against the inside elbow. As Apocalypta moved to get back to her feet, Cthulhu followed up with a hammerlock, wrenching her arm even more, switching it into an armbar once Apocalypta dropped back down to her knee again, and flattened her with the hold on her back.
Finally, Apocalypta managed to reach the ropes and break the hold, pulling herself up. Poised and ready, Kid Cthulhu ran off the opposite side of the ropes, going for some high impact move. We don't know what she had planned, because Apocalypta countered with a sudden MOAB LAUNCH right into Apocalypta's midsection!! Both women stayed down, however, as it had been done with that tender shoulder.
Reynolds: "Welp...she tried, but I think it's over, Nicky."
Hanson: "Not yet, Jim. Apocalypta's still down!"
Reynolds: "Yeah, but she's getting up first!"
As Apocalypta regained her feet, she pulled Cthulhu up by the hair and began setting up for the Ground Zero. She got the smaller girl, who was normally weightless when she tried to get her up, only about a foot off of the mat before setting her back down and stepping away, clutching her arm; wincing in pain under her smeared facepaint. In response, Kid Cthulhu answered with a sharp *KICK* to the arm that sent Apocalypta reeling on her feet. Another *KICK* gained a pop from the crowd. A third *KICK* sent Apocalypta leaning against the ropes.
Reynolds: "Nicky...? I think those are TEARS in the champ's eyes!"
Hanson: "You saying she has a heart?"
Reynolds: "Oh lighten up, man. She's got an injured arm!"
Hanson: "I hate to sound cold, Jim, but after what she's pulled lately? I don't think I can sympathize for her!"
Near the end of the match, a basement dropkick brought Apocalypta's feet out from under her, followed by a quick springboard moonsault off of the ropes that left her on her back. Kid Cthulhu immediately went for a pinfall that Apocalypta looked to BARELY kick out of! Finally, Cthulhu motioned for The Call. The woman quickly beginning to climb up the turnbuckle as Apocalypta struggled to her feet as fast as she could and hurried up to meet her halfway. With Cthulhu on the top turnbuckle, Apocalypta caught her by the throat with her uninjured arm. Shrieking through the pain of having to use the other to grab her by the tights with her taped limb, she hit a devastating CHOKESLAM off of the top rope. Rather than try for the Ground Zero again, Apocalypta forced Kid Cthulhu up into a sitting position and locked her into a Dragon Sleeper Hold with her good arm, forcing Cthulhu to tap out at 12:11.
After the bell, as "Hurricane" roared through the speakers, Apocalypta stood on wobbly legs with her belt in hand.
Reynolds: "And THAT'S why she's the champion, Nicky!"
Hanson: "Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. What happened to you abhorring them for their actions?"
On her way to leave the ring, Apocalypta turned towards the stage and stopped to see Doomsday from the Dominion of Pain standing on the stage just...watching her as the shot faded out to the final commercial break.
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The Boston crowd was on their feet with a pop as the lighting took on a sudden golden flash and Prophets Of Rage’s “Unfuck The World” filled the arena. On cue, as the intro hook began, the N*FW Tag Team Champions, accompanied by their stable mate appeared on stage. First came The Punisher, Andrew Payne, wearing his half of the championship belts around his waist as he came walking out on stage. Looking as mean as usual, at first, the Pittsburgh native eventually cracked a small satisfied smirk as he pointed to the crowd, slapping the front plate of his belt.
At his side, his longtime partner and best friend, Big Daddy Payne strutted out, still clad in most of his usual black & yellow attire... but wearing a green Celtics jersey with Jayson Tatum's name and number on it. And with them, the last of the original members of The House of Payne, Shelton Benjamin, wearing his wrestling trunks and a HoP t-shirt.
With a grin, BDP hopped up onto the middle turnbuckle immediately upon entering the ring, holding his title belt high. "FIVE TIME NFW TAG CHAMPS, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"
With him, Andrew Payne raised his own belt over head with an inaudible yell under the pop of the crowd, raising up his other hand in front of him with his fingers spread to symbolize their fifth and current reign. Next, the man clinked his belt against his partner’s before calling for a microphone.
As the music died down, he slowed down to a pace as a ‘HOUSE OF PAYNE’ chant resonated from the crowd. Grinning, Andy looked to BDP and Shelton, thumbing to the crowd - ‘you hearing this?’ Finally, he raised the mic to his mouth. “NON FACCIAMO - ALTRO - VINTOOOOO!!” To a deafening pop, he climbed onto the middle turnbuckle and hoisted the title in his hand up again. Once he hopped down, he continued. “For anybody who caught Reckoning Day last week, we hope you enjoyed what we put out there. If you missed it? Go onto youtube, dailymotion, whatever you have to do to see it, because once again D and I proved: THAT is what a couple of old boys can do!”
Another pop from the crowd came before Andy continued. “Now, let’s get down to business for tonight. It seems like that tag unit of punks that we beat the shit out of to win these belts needs a little reminder of what happens when you try to bow up on us, so...here we are. Except now, their own Charles Manson wants to take out his frustrations from getting his ass blindsided and he expects us to be on the punching bags. The thing is, we’ve still got a bone to pick with you bastards so come take your best shot!”
Obviously amped up more than usual, on that champion high, Andrew Payne tosses the mic to BDP.
"So... looks like we get to do this dance again this week, but with B-Money and Lasher's Bitc... er... I mean Abaddon thrown into the mix." BDP said with a mocking smirk, shaking his head. "I know we're gonna probably have to deal with The Dominion (and their amazingly hot manager who I'mma do unspeakable things to later) at some point.... but for now? Oh man am I gonna enjoy watching them take you jackoffs apart piece by piece."
"Tonight is about sending a message." Benjamin added, pointing out to the crowd. "It's about showing all of you, and everyone in the locker room, that these three old guys still got a hell of a lot left in the tank. That we are NOT to be taken lightly. And that we are here to STAY."
Nodding, Andy smirked and gave Shelton a high five and a fist bump to BDP as he took the mic back. “Just to piggyback off of what Shelton said...yes. We *are* here to stay. And while I’m not gonna mention any names....” He beckoned the camera over to them so he could get right up into the lens. It was almost a copy...or parody...of an earlier promo that night. “We aren’t going anywhere. And if you have a problem with that? You know where to find us. I’d just prefer you have the balls to say it to our faces instead of sneaking around like a pack of pussy foot hyenas!”
With nothing more to say, The Punisher tosses the mic out of the ring and effortlessly snatches his t-shirt off, tossing it out of the ring as the referee takes the tag titles outside of the ring and sets them by ringside. The House Of Payne, as a whole, standing in wait for their opponents.
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The main event tag team match was just as intense, if not more, as the pay-per-view Tag Titles match between the two teams. As mentioned by the Mafia, the addition of both Shelton Benjamin and Abaddon only added to the excitement of the mix. Moments into the match, the crowd saw Marissa Payne come silently walking down to the ring to stand in her team's corner. The young woman glaring coldly over at the Circle as she wanted to see them get one of many beatings that they deserved. It was turning out to be a back and forth match for the most part with the Circle of Snakes looking like they had their heads back in the game.
While BDP and Tyler Grey were trading blows in the ring, about 8:00 in, the crowd and announcers were both surprised as a woman in a white and blue Pegasus Kid mask appeared out of nowhere, blindsiding Marissa from behind.
Reynolds: “WHOA!!”
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL?! Where did this woman come from?!”
Reynolds: “Who is she?!”
Andrew Payne dropped down from the apron and pulled the masked woman off as she was raining blows down on his partner’s daughter. Forming a human barrier between the two, glaring in confusion at his niece’s attacker.
“What’s your problem?! Who the hell are you?!” We can see him mouthing to her.
Hanson: “This woman just came and attacked Marissa Payne, but why?!”
Reynolds: “Nicky, look!”
Cutting to an angle to show the woman’s front, we see her t-shirt with a giant ‘R’ on the front.
Hanson: “What the hell...Jimmy. We know that symbol!”
Reynolds: “We sure do, Nicky! That’s for the Renegades and look out!”
Just as Reynolds points out the obvious, the Renegade member in the purple and yellow mask is seen coming out of the crowd behind Andrew Payne with a steel chair. He runs up and strikes The Punisher with an audible *SMACK*, dropping him to his knees. Jumping down from the apron, Shelton Benjamin starts trading blows with the masked man but, from behind him, comes both the Renegade in the blue and red mask as well as Tyson Law. The two pounce on Benjamin like a pair of wolves and start beating him down. The woman in the Pegasus mask continues her assault on Marissa.
Hanson: “What the hell is going on, Jim?!”
Reynolds: “This has to be what they were talking about, Nicky! They said the locker room better be on their guard! They declared war on the founding superstars of N*FW!”
Hanson: “Yeah, and their successors too! That woman is assaulting the daughter of Big Daddy Payne!”
Even as the referee sees this and rings the bell for disqualification, Abaddon rushes into the ring while BDP turns to notice his attack and plants him with the Impaler!!
Hanson: “Oh and Abaddon, opportunistic as ever!”
Reynolds: “This is nuts, Nicky! The Circle of Snakes have taken out BDP and the rest of his team are still getting the holy hell kicked out of them outside the ring!”
Outside the ring, in quick succession, the Renegade in the blue mask hits a superkick on Shelton Benjamin while Tyson Law hits the Lawbreaker on Andrew Payne.
Hanson: “C’mon, someone’s gotta stop this!”
The Renegade in the purple mask slid into the ring next, pacing back and forth in front of Abaddon with BDP between them. Abaddon stood silently and looked on as the masked man pulled BDP up into position for the reverse, swinging flatliner that he used at Reckoning Day. The masked man looks right Abaddon and nods his chin out to him as if to say ‘sup’. He then looks down at BDP and SPITS in his face!
Hanson: “Oh come on!”
He then follows through with the climax of the move.
Reynolds: “MAN!”
As the man in the purple mask stands up, he is joined by the rest of the Renegades. His colleague in the blue and red mask, Tyson Law and the woman in the Pegasus Kid mask. Abaddon, Tyler Grey and Chris Wolfe simply stand in their corner, ready and waiting, but the Renegade in the blue mask turns towards BDP, diverting the others’ attention to the man as well. The Circle of Snakes...just leave the ring and begin making their exit, albeit looking over their shoulders with a genuine curiosity.
At the one in the blue masks signal, the other masked man and Tyson Law pick BDP up onto his knees. The female masked member steps up...and SLAPS him across the face.
Crowd: “OOOOH!!!”
The masked one holding him then lets go, leaving Tyson Law to pull him up and deliver a Lawbreaker. And finally, the brutal double underhook piledriver from the masked man in blue.
Hanson: “Jim, this is bad! I hate to use the cliché but this looks like a car accident! Look at this!”
Reynolds: “What are they doing now?”
Back inside the ring, after a quick shot to the rest of the McKeesport Mafia laid out outside the ring, the masked women reaches back and begins undoing her mask, as do the other two.
Reynolds: “Wait wait, Nicky! They’re taking their masks off!”
Hanson: “Finally! We wanna know who the hell these people are!”
First, the woman. She rips her mask off revealing...CANDI BRODUER!!
Hanson: “WWWWWHAT?!?!”
Reynolds: “CANDI BRODUER?!?! WHAT THE HELL?!”
Next, the man in the purple and yellow mask. He opens the velcro under his chin and peels it back revealing the shockingly familiar face of JULIAN MORRISON!!
Reynolds: “NICKY!!”
Hanson: “IT’S JULIAN MORRISON!! OH MY GOD!!”
Reynolds: “Nicky that...he...he used to be a member of the old Dominion of Pain!”
Hanson: “Jim, he was the last LEADER of the Dominion after his mentor, Judas Lasher, retired! Even took the man's name for awhile!!”
Reynolds: “This is great! He’s back in N*FW!”
Finally, as the one in blue and red unfastened the back of his mask, Candi Broduer especially looked on, grinning with a sense of satisfaction. The last man, grabs his mask from the back and yanks it over and off, revealing the horribly scarred face of...MAX LEBRUN!!
Hanson: “Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyy God, Jimmy!!”
Reynolds: “Hoooooooly shit!”
Amidst the deafening mix of boos and cheers from the fans, Max LeBrun runs his hand through his black hair, brushing it completely out of his face, making sure the horrid burn scars on the right side are fully visible.
Hanson: “Dear god...Max LeBrun...Julian Morrison...Tyson Law...Candi Broduer. What the hell is this?”
Reynolds: “This is one hell of a team, Nicky! It all makes sense now! Body, heart and soul! These guys have sacrificed it all for these fans and for what?!”
Hanson: “They talked like it was a personal attack against them from the veterans!”
Reynolds: “You don’t think it is?!”
Hanson: “I may not but these maniacs - The Renegades - just made it personal!”
The final shot of the show focused in on the four Renegades standing in the ring, side by side. Max and Candi in the center with his arm around her shoulders, with Julian and Tyson flanking their sides. All four wearing Renegade shirts. The look on his scarred face, however, is downright menacing. Full of hate as the shot fades out....
Hanson: "Welcome everyone! Reckoning Day is upon us!"
Reynolds: "I cannot wait for this to kick off!"
We get a short recap of the matches and the outcomes before reaching the end. The final shot of the vignette is the face off between N*FW World Champion, Scott Leroux and IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Kazuchika Okada with the song's outro drum beat thumping loudly.
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As the camera fades in, we see the locker room of the Circle of Snakes. Sitting on a bench in the middle of the room,Tyler Grey, still in his jeans and baggy Cradle of Filth tee, hair spiked into a slight mohawk, facepaint not yet applied, chatting with Apocalypta.
"Girl, that was bad-ass personified. Seriously. Shame you couldn't become the first person to make Silver tap out, but just BEATING her is impressive as hell. How's the arm, by the way? Honestly, I thought she was gonna rip that fucker right out the socket at one point."
Beside him, Apocalypta sits with jeans sporting large holes over both knees and a sleeveless, cropped Gojira shirt. Despite already having her makeup on, her demeanor is relaxed and calm. Her match from Reckoning Day is still showing effects on her body via black trainers tape on the arm that Shelley Silver worked on - the same arm that was worked to make her initially tap those few weeks ago. “Thanks, Ty.” She responds, brushing hair over her tatted shoulder.
At Tyler’s inquiry, she flexes and rolls the arm as if testing it’s mobility. “Little sore. Should be good by next week, though as long as I don’t push it too hard.” Her skull painted lips curl into a smirk that would probably be pretty if she didn’t look so damn terrifying under her gimmick. “Not like that’ll be tough tonight.” Pausing, she looks down at the gleaming championship belt in her lap. What little bit of a happy mood she had seems to fade as she looks over at her stable brother. “Still...sucks about you and Chris. I know I don’t need to say we can’t let that shit fly.”
"Never thought we'd lose the titles and then not even be pissed at the guys that took them..." He admitted, shaking his head. "I just.... I don't know. I can't help but think that maybe none of this would've happened if..."
"If what, Grey?" Abaddon interjected, walking in with an obviously rattled look on his painted face. "This will pass. We will not allow Lasher to destroy us. Or to get inside our heads. Or to..." Suddenly, there was a loud crash behind them, causing Abaddon to spin around almost frantically, eyes wide with worry.... only to see Chris Wolfe standing there, having just dropped a metal tray with food on it. "Yo... sorry, guys. Didn't mean to drop everything..."
Behind Abaddon, Apocalypta shot to her feet like a cat ready to pounce. She was willing to trade blows with even the men of the Dominion if it came down to it. Although, admittedly, she’s a little relieved that it was just Tyler’s tag partner having a clumsy moment. On the flip side, she’s still visibly less rattled than their master to whom she looks at with a mixed look of concern and humor.
“Look, this whole thing has us jumpy for nothing. They’re trying to get into our heads and it’s working. We can’t let it.” She rests an arm on Tyler’s shoulder. “Don’t regret anything we’ve done. Those who cross us have it coming to them! And we don’t go easy, right?” She looked to Abaddon then. “You taught us that.” Something occurs to her then as she looks around the locker room and notices two of them are missing.
“Guys, where the hell is big man at?” And where the hell was her little mouse, Mia at?
Belphegor is preparing for his match." Abaddon explained, before also thinking of Mia. "As for our young apprentice... I sent her to gather information about the DOminion for us. I feel she's proven herself capable of being trusted with an assignment of this priori-"
He's cut off then, by the sound of Mia Hayashi laughing, at the top of her lungs, as she comes skipping happily into the locker room. "Guys! Guys! I've been working on it ALL DAY, but I finally pulled off the prank of a lifetime. I went into the ladies' room, into a stall... waited for another woman to come in.... then I asked if she could hand me a spare roll of toilet paper, right? So she goesd to pass one over... and then I smeared Nutella on my hand, and reached under for it."
For a moment, Apocalypta just stares blankly at Mia. One might expect her to be ready to scold the girl for playing a prank instead of gathering intel, but an amused grin creeps onto her eerie features. A hand reaches out and pulls the smaller girl against her so she can hang an arm around her shoulders as she looks to the others. “Is it any wonder why I wanna devour this little appetizer?” She turns her eerie, yet sultry grin on Mia with a chuckle. “You’re just a naughty little mouse, aren’t you?”
Mia just looks at Apocalypta with a blank expression, blinking a few times. "Lady. Listen to me. Stop. Trying. To. Fuck. Me. It's not gonna happen. You TERRIFY me. And not in the happy 'choke me harder daddy' kinda way. More in a 'this bitch gonna murder me in my sleep' kinda way. So... no. Uh-uh. Access denied. In fa-"
"ENOUGH!!!!" Abaddon yelled, clearly at his wit's end and ready to unravel. "YOU!" He pointed at Mia, "Start taking your place among us seriously, if you know what's good for you." He looked at Apocalypta, "And you! Keep your little pet on a fucking leash, or I will step on her. As for you two..." He looked at Grey and Wolfe, "Stop lounging around here and start figuring out how to get those tag team titles back. I need to go figure out how to keep Lasher out of our hair this week."
Instinctively, Apocalypta’s hold on Mia takes on a more protective sense as Abaddon starts going off. Only when he’s finished, does the Women’s Champion release Mia and place her hands together with her head lowering. “Yes, Master....” Picking up her championship and placing it over her shoulder, she straightened her stance. “Tyler and Chris will obtain the tag titles...as for me...I’ll set another example with the little masked girl.” She grins sadistically, baring her teeth. “I hope she’s ready to play again....”
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~LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM!~
Ozzy Osbourne's "Let Me Hear You Scream" plays as an updated intro clip plays. This new one shows Scott Leroux as he is crowned Heavyweight Champion, as well as Rick Dickulous raising the Silver Mountain Championship overhead and the McKeesport Mafia raising the Tag Team Championships from the turnbuckles.
Hanson: "Welcome to N*FW, ladies and gentlemen! We are one week removed from Reckoning Day! Definitely an exciting show. If you didn't catch it, you don't know what you missed!"
Reynolds: "We have three new champions, Nicky. THREE!"
Hanson: "That we do, partner. Granted we knew we'd have two as they were initial crownings, we witnessed one hell of a match for the Silver Mountain Championship. Granted, there *did* seem to be a little conspiracy behind it."
Reynolds: "Yeah, I hope we get some answers for that."
Hanson: "We'll see what happens, but right now? Let's get this show started with...well...while we're on the topic...championship action!"
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In a 2:15 squash match, Vincent Stone put up as much of a fight as he could against Belphegor. However, the strength and raw power of the TV Champion was too much for the smaller man's wild striking and after a stiff Jackhammer, Belphegor scored the pin to retain the title.
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We see a 2019 Porsche 911 pull up to the arena..and man and woman get out of the car...
Interviewer " Mr Townsend..you have your debut match tonight... Whats your thoughts??..
Clarence Fletcher Townsend "You want my thoughts... whoever my opponent is.. will remember the name...Clarence Fletcher Townsend."
Interviewer 2 "Clarence Townsend.. word is that you are facing someone thats not wrestled in a while.. how do you figure strategy?"
Clerance Fletcher Townsend "You say my name wrong and you want me to tell you my strategy? Get outta here....Come on Victoria"
They go into the arena. After a couple minutes we hear the same voice.. " Damn it where in the hell is my locker room...?" Clarence finds a backstage audio guy and asks him --Clerance " Hey you kid.. Wheres my dressing room?" Audio guy " Its down the hall and off to the left..."
Clarence "Thank you sir"
Scene closes.
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Backstage, in what looks to be the boiler room of the building, we see a hulking form in the darkness that enshrouds the entire room. A monster of a man, standing in front of the main furnace. Its old design leaves exposed flames through the window to illuminate the terrifying skull mask of the largest of the Dominion of Pains members.
The hood of his jacket being up, leaves Doomsday looking even more terrifying as the flames reflect off of his mask. Only the gleam from his pupils serve as a view for his eyes. “She did well...didn’t she...?” His deep, low voice breaks the silence then as he suddenly speaks to someone currently off camera.
"She did VERY well." Came the response, from the Dominion's manager, LeeAnn Viskan. As usual, she looked far too sweet to be the evil mastermind she was, hair in a ponytail and wearing black jeans and (sweetly) a House of Payne tee.. "Her submission game is so strong you'd think I trained her myself. Can you imagine what she'd be like right now if she'd have let me, instead of pushing everyone away?"
A sigh escapes Doomsday that sounds more like the low growl of a large engine. “That’s why I’m here....” Doomsday turns towards the woman that wasn’t just the Dominion’s manager but a long time friend of his, among others, who had helped him through tougher times in life. “...I can appreciate her brutality...but who she aims it at...that ain’t her. And I don’t want her to go down with the rest of those bastards....”
"I can appreciate your sentiment, Matteo. I can." LeeAnn told the big man, a rare hint of sympathy in her voice. "If that was Marissa behaving like that... I would want to save her. But while I'm your friend, and a fellow parent.... when I'm here I'm the manager of The Dominion. And mercy is not something I do. So I'll say this: work fast. Get her away from them Because if she chooses to come at me? For any reason? I may be 42 years old, and much smaller than her.... but I will not hesitate to snap her leg like a twig."
Doomsday just nodded. “If I didn’t understand that, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Not with you all, anyway. But...I understand ‘tough love’ and if I can’t reach her...that might be up to you.” Here, he turned from LeeAnn to the camera, addressing his daughter in hopes she was watching.
“My motto as of late has been No Mercy For All. But let me make one disclaimer: I’d like to exclude you from that, Adrianna. I’d *like* to. I don’t know what made you fall into this Circle of Snakes, but you’re becoming far from the girl I raised. The one that everyone helped me raise when....” He grunts and shakes a thought away. “I came here...came out of retirement...to do what it takes. *Whatever* it takes.... Hear those words, Abaddon...I will go through anyone to take back something you’ve stolen. And if you think my age is a factor in any of that, you’re right. I *am* older than most of the kids back in the locker room. But it’s like you saw on those wildlife shows. The ones you probably say with your parents and watched as a kid like most did. The young predators like to mess with the old lion. Pick at him...test his patience...until they do something that he loses that patience. And that old lion gets up...and tears the hell out of everyone around him. You...have woken up the beast. Judas may have you in his sights now, but believe me when I say...I’m gonna get a piece. First, though, I wanna make an example. I’m *going* to make an example...the Dominion’s animal...is coming for yours. Belphegor...I want you to watch everything I do to these poor souls that stand in my way of doing what I came here to do. I didn’t pick up that call from Judas and LeeAnn to get in the ring with a bunch of two bit punks but, under contract, I have my job for tonight. I’m gonna make it quick...and I want you to pay attention. As for you...Colt Shields?” He may have been wearing a mask but the way his head turns towards LeeAnn begs us to speculate if he’s wondering about the choice of name.
He looks back at the camera then. “This is where anyone else would say they hope you have good insurance because of the beating you’re about to get. But there’s no insurance plan for total annihilation....”
LeeAnn couldn't help the sweet-but-sadistic smile that crept onto her face as she shook her head. "I almost feel bad for you jackasses... ALMOST. You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. And for that matter... what you've gotten all of N*FW into, once we're done with you."
Doomsday’s shoulders shook as if he were laughing silently. “To put it simply...for the ones who can’t read between the lines...the clock has begun ticking. The seals have been broken...and the horsemen have begun to ride.” He lifts his head again, glaring into the camera through his mask and from under his hood. “The first to ride during the end times...was War. The one who brought about chaos and bloodshed across the entire land. Colt Shields...Belphegor...N*FW...come and see...gaze upon the first horseman. The harbinger of doom...of total obliteration.... Tonight...the countdown to destruction...begins.”
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Returning from the commercial break, the second match of the night saw Doomsday's first match in almost ten years. Obviously angry at their previous encounter which cost him advancement in the World Title Tournament, Colt Shields opened up with hard shots to the bigger man's midsection right at the start of the bell. Even though he was getting up there in age, Doomsday resembled his younger days in the fact that he stood there like a wall, absorbing the blows. It wasn't until Colt goaded him into taking his best shot and slapped him across the mask that Doomsday grabbed the man's head in his enormous hands like a vice and nailed him with a headbutt that floored him instantly.
Dazed, Colt climbed to his feet as Doomsday came off the ropes with his signature clothesline he called the Shockwave.
Reynolds: "DID YOU SEE THE WAY SHIELDS FLIPPED THROUGH THE AIR!"
Hanson: "I did indeed, Jim! He ain't a small guy, either!"
Reynolds: "The hell's Doomsday doing now?"
Finally, Doomsday pulled Colt up by the hair and set him up for something the fans had never seen from him before. The 6'10" monster popped Colt Shields about eight feet into the air with a pumphandle flatliner that he referred to as The Fallout. Rolling him over, Doomsday went for the cover, tossing his hair back as he glared through his mask at the camera, scoring the pinfall at 1:32.
Hanson: "WOOOOOOW!!!!"
Reynolds: "He said he wanted to send Belphegor a message and I think he just did!"
Hanson: "Jim...our first two matches of the card were less than five minutes combined...."
Reynolds: "Right?! I wonder what's gonna happen if these two bang heads!"
Hanson: "Oh there's no 'if' buddy. It's a matter of 'when.'"
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"I'm here backstage to speak with NFW Champion Scott Leroux, and William Mannheim, the man who brought the stable known as The Great White North together."
*Behind Amy Connors' beaming face, Mannheim and Scott Leroux can be seen talking quietly. As Amy and the camera begin closing the gap, the two men bump fists and turn to face her*
"Gentlemen, thanks for giving us some time tonight. You guys seemed to be pretty deep in conversation there, care to tell us what you were talking about?"
*Mannheim smiles at Amy*
"Just exchanging old war stories, Amy, you know how us oldtimers are."
*He winks at Amy, who turns her attention to Scott Leroux*
"Only because Kennedy isnt here right now." Scott said, a big cocky grin on his face. "If she was, conversation isn't what I'd be deep in."
*Amy Connors looks at Scott with a confused and slightly disgusted look on her face*
"I-uhh, I don't think I want to know what you'd be deep in, Mr. Leroux, but I'm certain it's not very family friendly..."
"Lemme help you out here, babe. You're here to congratulate me on becoming the NEWWWWWW N*FW World Heavyweight Champion. And thank you, Amy... I'd say I'm honored, but goddammit I deserve it." Leroux said, snapping his gum and clapping Willy on the back. "Me and Big Willy here... we might not have the creepiness of the Circle, or the theatrics of The Dominion, but you know what? We're the most lowkey dangerous group IN this bitch. You got the most violent guy in N*FW history, and the most lethal submission wrestler in the world... on the same page now. And with Pitt? And Rick? Plus Piso and Kennedy? Yeah... let's see ANYONE try to fuck with this."
*Mannheim nods*
"It's true, Amy. I didn't come to Scott and Kennedy for no reason, just like I didn't call Piso for no reason after Adam Cole tried to frame him! I know Pitt and Rick have my back no matter what, they're family. Now we're all family. Truthfully, Amy...we're solid. To coin a phrase; none of us are here to fuck the dog!"
*Amy continues*
"Mr. Leroux, what's next for The Great White North? What are the plans for the future?"
"We're together for a few pretty solid reasons. First? To watch each others' backs. In case you haven't noticed... it's getting pretty clique-y around here." Leroux said, taking a second to polish a spot off of his Championship belt. "Second? Me, Willy, and Pitt? We have nothing else to prove. We're here now to have some fun, win some titles, and make sure this place is left in the hands of talent capable of living up to the standards we set."
*Mannheim chimes in*
"And we have some incredibly high standards - but that's all part of being Canadian, Amy."
*Mannheim bumps fists with Scott*
"Do you have any final words for the fans at home, gentlemen?"
*Mannheim shrugs*
"If you don't like it....deal with it?"
Leroux winced slightly, shaking his head. "C'mon man... that shit's older than Lasher. We gotta come up with SOMETHING new..."
"What, then? Old Man Winter? Winter is coming? Hide from the storm?"
*Mannheim shakes his head, eyes closed. He motions as if he's centering himself*
"I'll work on it..."
Scott shook his head, smirking at Amy. "See? He's working on it." He turned back to Willy as the camera fades out, "Something like 'is your name Winter? Cos you're about to be coming'?"
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In his debut match with N*FW, Clarence Fletcher Townsend defeated Satoru Shade III in a 10:54 contest, demonstrating rather impressive technical and traditional wrestling prowess. He ended the match with his signature move, a discus punch he called the Money Shot. After the bell, Townsend added insult to injury by locking Shade into a Camel Clutch he referred to as Breaking Wall Street; the man keeping the hold locked in until the referee managed to pull him off and he exited, arm in arm with Victoria Emmerson and a cocky, white collar smirk on his face.
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Backstage, the camera finds Nico Salvatore storming in from the parking lot. Dressed in high dollar black slacks, a crisp blue silk shirt and black shoes, he carries his bag in one hand. After a moment, we hear a voice call his name offscreen.
“Nico! Excuse me, Nico!”
Nico stops in his tracks and rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh as Josh Andrews hurries into frame with a microphone.
“The fuck do you want, f’nuc?”
Josh Andrews clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh...s-sorry. I know you just got in—“
“No shit! I’m not here five minutes and you’re crawlin’ up my ass already. Whattaya want, a fuckin’ autograph?”
Josh Andrews swallows nervously. “Well...no, I—“
Nico sticks a finger in his face. “Then get the fuck away from me!” He brushes passed Josh, continuing on. Josh calls after him.
“I, umm...I just wanted to get a few words from you about Reckoning Day!”
Nico stops in his tracks. A look of murder comes over his face as he turns and starts walking back over to him. “What’d you say?”
With a look like he’s about to be the target of a rabid wolf, Josh Andrews begins to quiver. “I-I-I just—“ Nico snatches the mic out of his hand and bowls up on him. “You wanna talk about Reckoning Day?! Huh?! What’s to talk about?! I beat Tyson Law’s ass just like I said I would! I got nothin’ t’say t’him!” Nico is *fuming* as he pauses and recalls something. “But there is something I wanna talk about, now that you mention it.” He turns towards the camera. “Your fuckin’ boys, Tyson! I don’t know who they are, I don’t know what their game is. They come in here, one of ‘em lays out two thirds of the McKeesport Mafia, almost takes out a couple of dumbasses that used to be hot shit. I don’t mind that. I don’t care one damn bit. But now you motherfuckers wanna come at *me*?! I know Tyson’s gonna deny it like Bill did Monica but I know a punk ass bitch when I see one! You wanna play the fuckin’ gangland game? I am the *wrong* motherfucker to play that with! You two think you’re a couple o’tough guys, then come at me. COME - THE FUCK - AT ME! I’ll beat you both like the sneaky little pussies you are! You’re gonna need those masks when I get done fuckin’ you up ugly!”
He shoves the microphone against Josh Andrews chest. “Take this and get the fuck outta my face!” He says as he storms off screen and the shot fades out on the speechless interviewer.
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Despite her burn injury sustained from Reckoning Day, Candi Brodeur put up a hard fight against Shelley Silver. However, Silver still came out as the victor after hitting the Sundown and scoring the pinfall after 7:05. Officials then moved in to check on Candi and her burned back, helping her towards the backstage area.
Hanson: "Oh, I hope she's okay, Jim. I hate to see this."
Reynolds: "Well, when you play with fire, ya get burned. Am I right?"
Hanson: "Can you just ONCE show some class?"
Reynolds: "How do ya mean?"
Hanson: "How about this; next time you think of some crap like that to say, keep your mouth shut."
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Scene opens as we hear a familiar voice on phone...
"Yea Just like i told you... Its gotta have that in it somewhere" as the scene continues we do not hear who is on the other end of the line and the camera spans up and its Ryan Steele
Ryan-" Now this is my project, if you goof this up.. the deal is off....
Ryan continues " You heard me, My lawyer will be involved, I want this to look good"..... " Ok man you got 72 hours.. after that my lawyers are involved" Ryan hangs up phone....
After that.. He says clearly " Now i gotta get ready to beat this idiot senseless"....
Scene closes.
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Sitting in her rocking chair, Rosemary is sitting among the ashes, caused by the hated Erin Mercer. The sound of the creaking is drowned out by footsteps coming closer. Rounding the corner Vincent Stone, looks at his mother, grimaces and sits down on a crate with a look like “what do we do now”.
"Hello son, we know you have many questions for us. We are listening, please ask away."
She is looking at him with adoration in her eyes and waits patiently for the questions to come.
Dressed, as usual in his new Hands of Decay ring gear, Stone wears a look of confusion under his, otherwise, menacing face paint. He looks more like a lost child than the fierce animal he has become inside a ring.
“Why…? Why did this happen, mother?” Stone moves off of the crate, onto his knees where he places a hand on one of Rosemary’s with desperation coming over him. “Why did that woman do this?!” Something catches his attention off camera that he tries to ignore at first. He stays focused on Rosemary. “She’s gonna pay right? She *has* to pay!” Frowning, he looks up and off camera again. “Mother...why is *she* here…?”
At the nod of his head, the camera pans over and up, the shot widening some to keep the Hive Mother and son in the frame while also revealing Angel standing off to the side, silently. Rather than her ring gear. She wears black leather street clothes with her hair left to shroud her face from the side.
Stone continues, moving more against Rosemary. “Is she...a friend?”
Smiling at her son, stroking his hair while she rocks away. She looks up at Angel and beckons her to join them. Caring not if she actually moves she goes back to answering the questions.
"Are you familiar with the colours of the rainbow? The reds, green and purples that make up some of the best art work the Shadow paints with in his multiverse, well the colours are ascribed to people as well Vinny. The phrase “we are all stardust” takes on new meaning when you think of it this way. She did it because her colours are out of alignment. Have of her is red with anger, at us, at you. Mostly, angry with herself. Let us explain. How many times have we, destroyed her? Can you recall??"
Sitting back and crossing his legs, Stone gazes upward, touching a finger to his chin - almost comically - in thought. “...Umm...as many times as she’s tried to cross us?” Despite his earlier mood, the realization that they have never been bested by Erin Mercer, causes him to break into a maniacal snicker. Meanwhile, Angel looks on silently as if unbothered by the unhinged duo’s behavior. Once Stone regains his composure, he looks back up at Rosemary like a concerned, curious child. “But...she’s still gonna pay right? We can’t let her get away with burning our *home* and then attacking you during your match with that other girl? What do we do about that?” Something seems to click in his head and he looks up at Angel again. “Wait...is that why she’s here? Does she hate little insects too?”
Rosemary nods at him. “All answers in due time son. The other reason why Erin hates us, especially you is the she is green. Green with jealousy and envy. She is mad that she can’t beat us, ever, in or out of the ring, and jealous of your new found fame and fortune. As far as to why *points at Angel* the fallen one is here is she is a new sister to the Hive. We have a plan to dominate the federation, because we can, and the little insect is the first step towards total domination."
Vincent Stone looks back up at Angel with awe on his painted face. “Y-you...you’re...so...you’re like my sister, then!” Stone suddenly hops to his feet and takes a step towards the woman with his arms out like he’s going for a hug. Angel, instead, poises herself like a cobra ready to strike anyone who gets too close or makes too sudden of a movement. Stone stops and pouts comically, lowering his arms. “Sister doesn’t like hugs, does she?” He asks to Rosemary. Only when she sees that Stone is ceasing his advance, does Angel relax her stance, reaching up to fix the raised collar of her jacket and refolding her arms. Stone tilts his head. “Mother...does sister talk?”
“Sister let’s her actions do the talking for her. She is equally committed to dominance they way we are. That is why we got together for former S.O.S. The Sisters of Sin. To either redeem the insect or stamp the insect out, once and for all."
Stone looks quietly from Rosemary to Angel then back to Rosemary. “So...the jealous one might be my sister, too? But if she doesn’t...we get to crush her, right?”
Rosemary nods at him, and gets up briefly and walks off camera and returns with a bag. Handing over the contents of the bags insides, it is Rosemary masks, for both of them, obviously from marketing, bringing new meaning to We Are Rosemary, her twitter handle.
"Our gifts, to both of you. This Sunday, we have given the little vermin the keys to the kingdom, let’s see if she uses them or is a scared little puppy, afraid of her own shadow. We presume she will continue to lash out, until she too accepts our teachings, just like you both have."
She sits back down in her rocking chair, and waits for reactions.
And like a child on Christmas morning, Stone eagerly accepts his, sliding the mask over his face and mimics his mother’s pose, reclining back on his knees. His voice, now muffled under the mask, is full of demented joy. “Thank you, mother! This is the best gift ever!”
Angel, meanwhile, looks down at the mask in her hands and tilts her head, thoughtfully. She finally nods and keeps the mask at her side.
Sitting back up, Stone looks between his mother and new sister. “I can’t wait to crush us a little insect!”
Here, as if perfectly on cue, the silent Angel looks down at something on the floor that has caught her eye. The camera pans down to the three pairs of feet of the trio as a large palmetto bug crawls across the floor, oblivious in moving near Angel’s boot. The toe of the boot lifts up, granting a path for the insect. Yet, as it scurried underneath, naive on what is to come, the boot lowers down, slowly comes down, crushing it beneath the sole. When the camera pans back up to their face’s, Angel is suddenly wearing the Rosemary mask with her blue eyes piercing through the holes and staring right back at the viewers through the camera. Focusing in on all three just silently watching, static slowly takes over the screen before the word ‘SIN’ comes into view before fading out to black.
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"Hi, everyone! Alex Brody here, standing outside the women's locker room." The young, dark-haired beauty gave an adorably bright smile, straightening out her suit-skirt. "I'm waiting to get a word with Erin Mercer, who as of late seems to be fighting for the very soul of her best friend, Vincent Stone."
She knocked on the door, clearing her throat as she called into the room.
"Ms. Mercer? It's Alex Brody... can I have a minute of your time?"
After a moment, the door opens, and Erin Mercer appears. Already dressed in her ring gear, sans her jacket, she looks at Alex and the camera man. Despite her recent mood, she manages a polite smile to the girl. “I guess I got a minute.” She closes the door and comes to stand outside of her locker room beside Alex Brody, managing her brightest smile. “What’s up, Alex?”
Alex gave an apologetic smile so sincere it just made you want to hug the girl. "SO sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know what the next step for you is? Clearly Rosemary has help now, and with Stone and Angel both on her side... things don't look super hopeful for you."
Erin’s smile, albeit already forced, dropped and she turned completely serious. “Honestly? I don’t know where I’m gonna go from here or how to go about it. Angel and Rosemary joining forces? This whole ‘Sisters of Sin’ thing? I don’t know what their game plan is. Frankly, I don’t care. When I was still a student, one of my mentors told me that even if you’re outmanned and outgunned, you can still win. All it takes is superior attitude and superior state of mind. I’m not gonna toot my own horn but in this instance? My attitude and drive is far greater than Rosemary’s. She thinks this is all fun and games but this is personal to me. The one that taught me that lesson is currently following her around like a brainwashed minion and I will *not* stop until I put an end to it...or lose my career trying....”
Alex looked at her for a moment, as though deep in thought, before taking a deep breath and replying. "Erin, I've heard some talk around the locker room... and I can tell you you aren't alone. I can't break anyone's confidence, but I know for a fact that at least one woman plans to come to your aid. So please... I think I speak for all of us when I say to hang in there, that help is on the way."
For once, Erin actually looks genuinely surprised. Leaning back slightly before regaining her posture. “That so?” She smiles. Faintly, but genuinely. “Listen...I don’t really know any of the other girls here that well yet. So I won’t even begin to try and guess.” She looks to the camera. “Whoever you are...if you’re watching...I’m not asking for help. I’m not gonna ask anyone to help me with this fight, especially with how dangerous it is. But I know the odds are stacked against me so I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. And I’m not gonna spit in the face of anyone who wants to truly come down this road with me.” She turns towards Alex again. “You tell this person, Alex, however...if she’s just blowing smoke to you and trying to get me to drop my guard? If she turns out to be another one of Rosemary’s nutjob allies trying to set me up? I’ll end her ass just like that.” Erin snaps her fingers.
"I... I... I'll pass the message along." Alex stammered, before nibbling her lip nervously and shuffling away hurriedly.
Erin frowned then, as if she felt bad about scaring the poor interviewer. “Umm...later Alex! We should get drinks later!” She sighs then, looking down. “Get a grip on yourself, E. You can do this.” Erin Mercer turns and returns to inside her locker room, closing the door as the camera focuses on her name plate and fades out.
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The match between Ryan Steele and Nico Salvatore...was a referee's worse nightmare in terms of upholding order. Between the two of them, the referee found himself breaking up multiple holds out of the corners, yelling at both men to get their opponent off the ropes, and to watch multiple offenses like thumbs to the eyes and blows that came dangerously close to the belt.
Neither Nico nor Ryan were having any of it as the two took turns snapping obscenities in each other's faces. Nico, at one, point struck Ryan with an elbow to the jaw and called for him to come back with his own best shot which was an insulting SLAP to the face.
Reynolds: "These two are going AT IT, Nicky!"
Hanson: "You can say that again! Look at the look on Morgan Payne's face!"
Morgan, whom had accompanied Ryan to ringside, looked on at the brutality with shock and concern. However, she abided by the rules and stayed out of it completely until Nico hit Ryan with another thumb to the eye. This prompted her to climb up onto the apron and begin yelling, albeit comically in her accent, to the referee.
'EY REF!! WHATTAYA DOIN'?! Y'NEED Y'EYES CHECKED?! THAT'S A DQ!"
This served a distraction to the referee and, while he had his back turned, Ryan Steel hit a vicious kick below the belt of Nico Salvatore.
Hanson: "OH, COME ON!!! WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Reynolds: "A SHOT T'THE FACKIN' PILLS, NICKY!"
Hanson: "Jim, don't you *ever* attempt a Pittsburgh accent again...."
Reynolds: "Did you see how Morgan distracted the referee?"
Hanson: "I don't think she meant to."
As the referee finally managed to get Morgan down and turned back to the action, Ryan Steele popped up off of the mat and drove Nico Salvatore down with the Chaos Theory, covering him for the pinfall at 12:42.
After Ryan Steele and Morgan Payne left, Nico recovered in the ring. Regaining his footing, he called for a mic, snatching it from the announcer. Oddly, he wasn't even focused on his cheap loss just then. Instead, his focus seems to be on the two mysterious men from the previous week.
"I guess I was right all along, huh?!” He turns towards the stage, addressing the man in the back. “You two ain’t shit but a couple o’pussies! You’re fine with jumping a guy from behind but as soon as he calls you out where are ya?!”
Hanson: “I gotta say he’s got a point.”
Reynolds: “Yeeeaah maybe. But don’t ya think he’s pushing it a little?”
Hanson: “He obviously doesn’t think so.”
“So what’s up, huh?” Nico extends his free hand out to the side in a large shrug. “Where the fuck are ya?! The two of you can’t take on one guy face to face? You gotta hide in the ba—“ Nico stops short as the curtain on the stage opens and out come the two attackers from Reckoning Day. The one in the blue and red mask, with the newer man in purple and yellow right at his side. Nico smiles.
“There ya guys are! C’mon, I’m right here! I’M RIGHT HERE!” He throws down the mic and readies himself.
Hanson: “Wait, is he really gonna do this? He just had a match!”
Reynolds: “Dude, leave it alone. He’s from Brooklyn.”
Hanson: “So?!”
Reynolds: “So the dude’s batshit insane.”
Meanwhile, the two masked men reach the ring and calmly enter, coming to stand before Nico. The one in the blue mask looks Nico over up and down and appears to laugh. Reaching over to slap his buddy in the arm and point at him like ‘can you believe this guy?’ While he’s doing that, Nico springs into action! He rushes the one in blue, tackling him into the corner and starts throwing shots at him. Surprisingly, the fans actually POP for the man.
Hanson: “HERE WE GO! I TRY TO BE UNBIASED BUT NICO JUST MAY BE CRAZY ENOUGH TO PULL THIS OFF!”
Reynolds: “EEEYYYY HOW YOU DOIN’?!”
Hanson: “Please, don’t do that again.”
Behind Nico, the one in the purple mask grabs at him. Nico turns sharply and catches him with an elbow. He turns and starts laying into him next. However, when Nico cocks back and swings for a big hook, the man in purple ducks under it. Nico turns just in time for - *SMACK* - a hard superkick more akin to a martial artist than the regular wrestling version, delivered by the one in blue. Spit goes flying as Nico drops and the two stand over him.
Next, the man in blue makes a gesture to the one in purple. The man in the purple mask begins to viciously stomp and beat Nico while the man in the blue goes out of the ring and grabs a chair. He tosses it into the ring before grabbing a second and sliding back into the ring. Once both men have chairs in their hands, they stand on either side of Nico as he begins slowly trying to get to his feet. As he does, they ready for what looks about to be a nasty con-chair-to move.
Hanson: “Aw no, they can’t do this! This is gonna cause some damage!”
Reynolds: “He knew what the hell he was getting into when he called them out but I agree, Nicky. Someone’s gotta stop this!”
Just when it looked like the masked men were going to truly hurt Salvatore, Tyson Law came bolting out from the locker room, running down the aisle and sliding into the ring. Kicking at both of the masked me, he then stood between them and Nico, protecting his opponent from last week from further harm.
Hanson: “WAIT, JIMMY! HERE COMES TYSON LAW!!”
Reynolds: “What the hell’s he doing out here?! He gonna help these boys out?!”
Hanson: “Doesn’t look like it! If my vision’s right, he’s here to even the odds!”
Both of the masked men break away from Nico and step back beside each other with their chairs ready. Nico starts to get to his feet the rest of the way. The one in the blue mask lowers his chair and makes a gesture to Tyson and Nico as if to ask ‘you two against us?’ He tosses the chair aside and gestures with one hand for Tyson to bring it. Nico looks at Tyson, confused at first. Then he looks to his attackers. Back at Tyson. He looks at the crowd and shrugs before turning to face the two masked men again and returns the ‘bring it’ gesture, followed by flipping his hand under his chin and shooting the middle finger at both of them.
Hanson: “Ohhhhh my god, Jimmy. I have to admit, I’m ready for this shit to kick off!”
Reynolds: “...Did you just curse, Nicky?”
Hanson: *clearing his throat* “Ahem. Sorry, folks.”
Reynolds: “Wimp.”
The crowd, meanwhile, is on their feet, rooting for Tyson and Nico to take it to the men who had been running amok on N*FW for about a month now.
Tyson draped an arm over Nico's shoulders, a big smile on his face.... before spinning him into a snap DDT on the chair Nico had thrown down!
As he stood over Nico, scowling down at him, he waved his hand to call the masked men back into the ring!
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL?!”
Reynolds: “MAN!!!! NICO JUST GOT LAID OUT!!”
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”
Reynolds: “ISN’T IT OBVIOUS?!”
Meanwhile, the two masked men slide back into the ring, shoulders shaking with laughter as the one in the blue mask walks up and clasps Tyson’s hand before embracing him like a brother.
Hanson: “You gotta be kidding me! It’s three on one now!”
As the crowd looks on in shock at Tyson’s actions, the man with the blue mask takes Nico by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. He hooks his arms behind his back and, just like at Reckoning Day, delivers a butterfly piledriver in the center of the ring.
Reynolds: “JEEEEESUS!! That just LOOKS painful, Nicky!”
Hanson: “We need some answers! We *deserve* answers!”
One might have thought Nick Hanson was a mind reader then, as the man with the blue mask reached down and snatched up the mic Nico was using. He taps it a few times, sending a resounding *thump thump thump* through the speakers. Rather than lift it to his own mouth, though, he pauses and looks over at Tyson. His shoulders shake with laughter again as he hands the mic to the man and pats him on the back, leaning in to whisper something as he points across the arena at audience.
Reynolds: “I think he wants Tyson to say something.”
Hanson: “I wanna hear what those two have to say, damn it!”
Tyson grabbed the mic from his new teammate, staring daggers down at the still unconscious Nico.
"First thing's first.... this dumb bastard right here. He really, REALLY thought that after weeks of dragging my name through the mud, of humiliating me, of making a goddamn joke out of me... just a simple 'atta boy' was going to make everything better? Screw you, pal. We're gonna make your life a living hell." He looked out to the fans, before the man in the purple and yellow mask handed him, once again, the shirt they'd offered him last week. This time, Tyson eagerly put it on, before looking at the two men. "We've all been overlooked. Underrated. Tossed aside by fans and promoters alike, just so they could make room for all the goddamn relics that keep hogging up all the air time. Time for that shit... is over."
The man in the blue mask took the mic from Tyson, giving him a fist bump before slowly walking around the ring, thoughtfully. Finally, he raised the mic and, although muffled slightly from his mask, he spoke clearly.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He said, for starters. “Relics...hogging the air time. That’s EXACTLY what this company has become! That’s EXACTLY what professional wrestling as a whole has become! So much talent, so many young wrestlers - men and women alike - superstars in their *prime* are left to rot on the independent circuit because you have washed up old bastards who are too damn selfish to hang up the boots when the time is right!”
Hanson: “Oh what on Earth is he talking about?”
Reynolds: “Actually ya know? He’s kinda right, Nicky.”
Hanson: “You’re agreeing with him?!”
The masked man in blue continues. “Let’s look at the trending names in professional wrestling today.” He raises a fist and begins counting fingers. The crowd pops with each name. “The McKeesport Mafia...Scott Leroux...Shelton Benjamin...Pitt and Mannheim....” He drops his hand again and looks up. “I could keep going but I’d throw up in my own mouth. Meanwhile, you’ve got guys like Tyson here!” He turns, pointing at Tyson and lightly jabbing a finger in the man’s chest. “This guy right here is among one of the greatest young stars to ever step into a wrestling ring of this generation!” He turns back to the crowd. “And yeah, sure. He got noticed. He got signed to this company. But what has he got to show for it? A TV title shot? Let’s be real; nobody gives a DAMN about the TV title! Someone like this guy...” He points to Tyson again. “He should have been entered into the World Title tournament! But he wasn’t. Where did they stick him? At the start of the damn show! Hell, he should have been in the ladder match for the Silver Mountain Championship! But he wasn’t.”
The masked man turns back around to the crowd. “You know who was? A bunch of has beens and a spoon fed idiot who’s daddy *used* to be a badass in this company! I’m talking to you, Rick Dickulous. The only reason you got a contract in this company is because your old man and his bumbling tumor of a tag partner used to waltz around here and beat people up and all of you motherfuckers watching right now, ate up every goddamn bit of it!” As he says this, he points around at the fans.
Hanson: “Oh come on, that’s not true!”
Reynolds: “Let the man talk, Nicky!”
“And then there’s you!” The man leans down over Nico Salvatore. “You and Rick have something in common. The old fame junkies? They’re not the only ones we’re out to get rid of! It’s guys like you! A bunch of useless, self entitled, second generation dicks that only got here because their mommy or daddy used to be in the Top 10 over fifteen fucking years ago!”
He stands up straight again to address the fans. “It’s kept guys like Tyson, here, down. It’s kept guys like *us* down!” He gestures between himself and his colleague in the purple mask. “And we are SICK and TIRED of it!!” Lowering the mic, he turns towards his partner and tosses the microphone to him to say his piece.
The other masked man caught the microphone, leaning against the ropes. "The best part of all this is that these fucking promoters... they tell you every like they can think of just to get your name on that dotted line. They promise you pushes. They tell you alllll you gotta do is change your name. Pretend to be someone you aren't. And they'll make you a star. BITCH I *AM* A STAR. I ALWAYS WAS! You sons of bitches didn't make me... you RUINED me! We're all sick of being your doormats. From now on? The Renegades are taking what we want... and kicking the asses of anyone who gets in our way."
The first original assailant out of the two took the mic back and clasped his friend’s hand, stepping back and fist bumping him. “And ya see, that’s the thing that gets me the most. We sacrificed for you people. We bled for you people! *I* put scars on my body inside and out for you people! And you FORGOT ABOUT US! Body...” He thumbs to himself. “Heart....” He points to Tyson Law. “Soul...” Then to the other masked man. “That’s what we gave to you. And what did we get in return? We got erased.”
He gestures the camera man to come closer so he can get right up in the lens in the corner. “Well now...we’re here to erase the ones that should have been forgotten a long time ago. All of you in the back...all of you ‘veterans’ who still think you can hang. Consider this...our declaration of war. We fired the first shot right here...but it ain’t the last. Tonight...the we pull the pin on the grenade....”
Tossing the mic out of the ring, he steps back with Tyson and the other masked man as “Renegade” by Hollywood Undead starts up as they leave the ring.
Hanson: “Wait, after all that just now, there’s more coming?!”
Reynolds: “Looks like the locker room better batten down the hatches, Nicky.”
Hanson: “You’re amused by this, aren’t you?”
Reynolds: “I’m intrigued.”
Hanson: “Whatever.”
The shot fades out as the three men take their leave up the ramp with the song still playing.
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Despite the physical punishment being dealt by the more experienced veteran that was Rosemary, Erin Mercer once again showed a refusal to stay down and quit. She dished out about as much as she took until she finally managed to start wearing Rosemary down, eventually landing her signature 'twerking moonsault' on the Hive Mother. As she began to call for the Angel Trap, however, Vincent Stone - still wearing his Rosemary mask - climbed up onto the apron and began shouting at Erin to leave Rosemary alone.
Erin, frustrated by the distraction, approached her former friend, beginning to plead with him. After a moment of yelling at him to snap out of it, Erin SNATCHED the mask off of his face and held it up in anger.
"This isn't you!" She could be heard saying. "THIS ISN'T YOU, VIN!" Then, to Stone's shock, Erin dropped the mask and brought her boot down on it with a crunch. Stone's face, under his paint, looked like a child who had just watched a cherished toy be broken. As he looked on in absolute horror, Erin stepped back shaking her head. "I'm gonna help you, Vin. This isn't you!"
Moving passed her, the referee began yelling at Stone to get off the apron. This granted an opening for Rosemary, as Erin turned around, to catch her in the face with green mist before scooping her up and dropping her with the Red Wedding for the pin at 9:14.
As Rosemary's music played, Vincent Stone hurried into the ring and picked up his mask, trying desperately to piece it together. Meanwhile, Angel slid gracefully into the ring and came to stand over Erin Mercer beside her new partner.
Hanson: "Oh god, what now? What's coming?"
Reynolds: "I don't know exactly, Nicky. But I bet it ain't---"
~I'm become- I'm become- I'm becoming....~
Reynolds: "THE HELL?!"
Hanson: "KID CTHULHU?!"
Surely enough, as Fozzy's "Judas" began playing over the speakers, the beloved, green clad underdog of the women's division, crawled her way through the smoke before popping up and racing down the ramp, towards the ring like a bullet!!
As she did, Angel broke away from Rosemary and Erin Mercer, sliding out of the ring to intercept. Cthulhu shot passed her, only to pop up onto the apron and leap off with a stunning moonsault that brought the white haired woman down.
Hanson: "THIS MUST BE THE HELP THAT ALEX BRODY WAS TALKING ABOUT!!"
While yelling at the interference from inside the ring, Rosemary stepped towards the ropes. Behind her, Erin Mercer got to her feet, sneering through the green smudged across her face. She got to her feet, spun Rosemary around and began throwing elbows and chops at her, finally clotheslining her out of the ring.
Hanson: "AND OUT GOES ROSEMARY!!"
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL DOES KID CTHULHU THINK SHE'S DOING?! THIS ISN'T HER FIGHT!"
Hanson: "She's evening the odds, Jimmy!"
With Rosemary and Angel out on the floor, being joined by Vincent Stone with his broken mask in hand, Kid Cthulhu slid into the ring to stand beside Erin Mercer. The latter turned to look at her unexpected savior as Kid Cthulhu turned and offered out a handshake. After a moment of hesitation, Erin Mercer broke into a smile and clasped the hand, pulling the girl into a hug. The two continued to stand together as they watched the Sisters of Sin and Vincent Stone retreat up the ramp.
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Buzzsaw defeated Matt Klazzic in a short, 5:09 contest with the Buzzsaw Kick. A shot that the entire crowd felt as they heard the impact.
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The Crimson Sabre defeated Connor K in 6:15 with a stunning Tiger Suplex, pin combination.
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Appearing for the second time that night, Kid Cthulhu fought to prove that heart mattered more than size in the ring as she squared off against Apocalypta once more. The beginning of the match went as most would probably expect, in the fact that the Women's Champion used her power and brutal strikes and grapples to punish the smaller, masked girl.
A couple of moments into the match, however, while Kid Cthulhu was catching her breath on the apron, Apocalypta approached and seized her by the hair with her taped arm...and Cthulhu dropped down, YANKING the arm down over the ropes to break the hold. It worked enough that Apocalypta audibly yelled out in pain and clutched her arm as she stumbled back to the center of the ring and took a knee.
Hanson: "Size matters, my ass, Jim! This little girl just brought champion off of her feet! And here she comes again!"
Seeing an opportunity, to the delight of the crowd, Kid Cthulhu slid into the ring and pushed herself against the ropes, running passed Apocalypta to bounce off the opposite end before hitting a basement dropkick right into her shoulder. Again, Apocalypta couldn't help but let her pain be heard, proving she was only human when it boiled down to it.
Reynolds: "If she's not careful, she could break that arm!"
Hanson: "That might be what she wants, Jim!"
It could very well have been as Kid Cthulhu immediately went for the injured arm and landed a kneedrop out of a handstand right against the inside elbow. As Apocalypta moved to get back to her feet, Cthulhu followed up with a hammerlock, wrenching her arm even more, switching it into an armbar once Apocalypta dropped back down to her knee again, and flattened her with the hold on her back.
Finally, Apocalypta managed to reach the ropes and break the hold, pulling herself up. Poised and ready, Kid Cthulhu ran off the opposite side of the ropes, going for some high impact move. We don't know what she had planned, because Apocalypta countered with a sudden MOAB LAUNCH right into Apocalypta's midsection!! Both women stayed down, however, as it had been done with that tender shoulder.
Reynolds: "Welp...she tried, but I think it's over, Nicky."
Hanson: "Not yet, Jim. Apocalypta's still down!"
Reynolds: "Yeah, but she's getting up first!"
As Apocalypta regained her feet, she pulled Cthulhu up by the hair and began setting up for the Ground Zero. She got the smaller girl, who was normally weightless when she tried to get her up, only about a foot off of the mat before setting her back down and stepping away, clutching her arm; wincing in pain under her smeared facepaint. In response, Kid Cthulhu answered with a sharp *KICK* to the arm that sent Apocalypta reeling on her feet. Another *KICK* gained a pop from the crowd. A third *KICK* sent Apocalypta leaning against the ropes.
Reynolds: "Nicky...? I think those are TEARS in the champ's eyes!"
Hanson: "You saying she has a heart?"
Reynolds: "Oh lighten up, man. She's got an injured arm!"
Hanson: "I hate to sound cold, Jim, but after what she's pulled lately? I don't think I can sympathize for her!"
Near the end of the match, a basement dropkick brought Apocalypta's feet out from under her, followed by a quick springboard moonsault off of the ropes that left her on her back. Kid Cthulhu immediately went for a pinfall that Apocalypta looked to BARELY kick out of! Finally, Cthulhu motioned for The Call. The woman quickly beginning to climb up the turnbuckle as Apocalypta struggled to her feet as fast as she could and hurried up to meet her halfway. With Cthulhu on the top turnbuckle, Apocalypta caught her by the throat with her uninjured arm. Shrieking through the pain of having to use the other to grab her by the tights with her taped limb, she hit a devastating CHOKESLAM off of the top rope. Rather than try for the Ground Zero again, Apocalypta forced Kid Cthulhu up into a sitting position and locked her into a Dragon Sleeper Hold with her good arm, forcing Cthulhu to tap out at 12:11.
After the bell, as "Hurricane" roared through the speakers, Apocalypta stood on wobbly legs with her belt in hand.
Reynolds: "And THAT'S why she's the champion, Nicky!"
Hanson: "Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. What happened to you abhorring them for their actions?"
On her way to leave the ring, Apocalypta turned towards the stage and stopped to see Doomsday from the Dominion of Pain standing on the stage just...watching her as the shot faded out to the final commercial break.
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The Boston crowd was on their feet with a pop as the lighting took on a sudden golden flash and Prophets Of Rage’s “Unfuck The World” filled the arena. On cue, as the intro hook began, the N*FW Tag Team Champions, accompanied by their stable mate appeared on stage. First came The Punisher, Andrew Payne, wearing his half of the championship belts around his waist as he came walking out on stage. Looking as mean as usual, at first, the Pittsburgh native eventually cracked a small satisfied smirk as he pointed to the crowd, slapping the front plate of his belt.
At his side, his longtime partner and best friend, Big Daddy Payne strutted out, still clad in most of his usual black & yellow attire... but wearing a green Celtics jersey with Jayson Tatum's name and number on it. And with them, the last of the original members of The House of Payne, Shelton Benjamin, wearing his wrestling trunks and a HoP t-shirt.
With a grin, BDP hopped up onto the middle turnbuckle immediately upon entering the ring, holding his title belt high. "FIVE TIME NFW TAG CHAMPS, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"
With him, Andrew Payne raised his own belt over head with an inaudible yell under the pop of the crowd, raising up his other hand in front of him with his fingers spread to symbolize their fifth and current reign. Next, the man clinked his belt against his partner’s before calling for a microphone.
As the music died down, he slowed down to a pace as a ‘HOUSE OF PAYNE’ chant resonated from the crowd. Grinning, Andy looked to BDP and Shelton, thumbing to the crowd - ‘you hearing this?’ Finally, he raised the mic to his mouth. “NON FACCIAMO - ALTRO - VINTOOOOO!!” To a deafening pop, he climbed onto the middle turnbuckle and hoisted the title in his hand up again. Once he hopped down, he continued. “For anybody who caught Reckoning Day last week, we hope you enjoyed what we put out there. If you missed it? Go onto youtube, dailymotion, whatever you have to do to see it, because once again D and I proved: THAT is what a couple of old boys can do!”
Another pop from the crowd came before Andy continued. “Now, let’s get down to business for tonight. It seems like that tag unit of punks that we beat the shit out of to win these belts needs a little reminder of what happens when you try to bow up on us, so...here we are. Except now, their own Charles Manson wants to take out his frustrations from getting his ass blindsided and he expects us to be on the punching bags. The thing is, we’ve still got a bone to pick with you bastards so come take your best shot!”
Obviously amped up more than usual, on that champion high, Andrew Payne tosses the mic to BDP.
"So... looks like we get to do this dance again this week, but with B-Money and Lasher's Bitc... er... I mean Abaddon thrown into the mix." BDP said with a mocking smirk, shaking his head. "I know we're gonna probably have to deal with The Dominion (and their amazingly hot manager who I'mma do unspeakable things to later) at some point.... but for now? Oh man am I gonna enjoy watching them take you jackoffs apart piece by piece."
"Tonight is about sending a message." Benjamin added, pointing out to the crowd. "It's about showing all of you, and everyone in the locker room, that these three old guys still got a hell of a lot left in the tank. That we are NOT to be taken lightly. And that we are here to STAY."
Nodding, Andy smirked and gave Shelton a high five and a fist bump to BDP as he took the mic back. “Just to piggyback off of what Shelton said...yes. We *are* here to stay. And while I’m not gonna mention any names....” He beckoned the camera over to them so he could get right up into the lens. It was almost a copy...or parody...of an earlier promo that night. “We aren’t going anywhere. And if you have a problem with that? You know where to find us. I’d just prefer you have the balls to say it to our faces instead of sneaking around like a pack of pussy foot hyenas!”
With nothing more to say, The Punisher tosses the mic out of the ring and effortlessly snatches his t-shirt off, tossing it out of the ring as the referee takes the tag titles outside of the ring and sets them by ringside. The House Of Payne, as a whole, standing in wait for their opponents.
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The main event tag team match was just as intense, if not more, as the pay-per-view Tag Titles match between the two teams. As mentioned by the Mafia, the addition of both Shelton Benjamin and Abaddon only added to the excitement of the mix. Moments into the match, the crowd saw Marissa Payne come silently walking down to the ring to stand in her team's corner. The young woman glaring coldly over at the Circle as she wanted to see them get one of many beatings that they deserved. It was turning out to be a back and forth match for the most part with the Circle of Snakes looking like they had their heads back in the game.
While BDP and Tyler Grey were trading blows in the ring, about 8:00 in, the crowd and announcers were both surprised as a woman in a white and blue Pegasus Kid mask appeared out of nowhere, blindsiding Marissa from behind.
Reynolds: “WHOA!!”
Hanson: “WHAT THE HELL?! Where did this woman come from?!”
Reynolds: “Who is she?!”
Andrew Payne dropped down from the apron and pulled the masked woman off as she was raining blows down on his partner’s daughter. Forming a human barrier between the two, glaring in confusion at his niece’s attacker.
“What’s your problem?! Who the hell are you?!” We can see him mouthing to her.
Hanson: “This woman just came and attacked Marissa Payne, but why?!”
Reynolds: “Nicky, look!”
Cutting to an angle to show the woman’s front, we see her t-shirt with a giant ‘R’ on the front.
Hanson: “What the hell...Jimmy. We know that symbol!”
Reynolds: “We sure do, Nicky! That’s for the Renegades and look out!”
Just as Reynolds points out the obvious, the Renegade member in the purple and yellow mask is seen coming out of the crowd behind Andrew Payne with a steel chair. He runs up and strikes The Punisher with an audible *SMACK*, dropping him to his knees. Jumping down from the apron, Shelton Benjamin starts trading blows with the masked man but, from behind him, comes both the Renegade in the blue and red mask as well as Tyson Law. The two pounce on Benjamin like a pair of wolves and start beating him down. The woman in the Pegasus mask continues her assault on Marissa.
Hanson: “What the hell is going on, Jim?!”
Reynolds: “This has to be what they were talking about, Nicky! They said the locker room better be on their guard! They declared war on the founding superstars of N*FW!”
Hanson: “Yeah, and their successors too! That woman is assaulting the daughter of Big Daddy Payne!”
Even as the referee sees this and rings the bell for disqualification, Abaddon rushes into the ring while BDP turns to notice his attack and plants him with the Impaler!!
Hanson: “Oh and Abaddon, opportunistic as ever!”
Reynolds: “This is nuts, Nicky! The Circle of Snakes have taken out BDP and the rest of his team are still getting the holy hell kicked out of them outside the ring!”
Outside the ring, in quick succession, the Renegade in the blue mask hits a superkick on Shelton Benjamin while Tyson Law hits the Lawbreaker on Andrew Payne.
Hanson: “C’mon, someone’s gotta stop this!”
The Renegade in the purple mask slid into the ring next, pacing back and forth in front of Abaddon with BDP between them. Abaddon stood silently and looked on as the masked man pulled BDP up into position for the reverse, swinging flatliner that he used at Reckoning Day. The masked man looks right Abaddon and nods his chin out to him as if to say ‘sup’. He then looks down at BDP and SPITS in his face!
Hanson: “Oh come on!”
He then follows through with the climax of the move.
Reynolds: “MAN!”
As the man in the purple mask stands up, he is joined by the rest of the Renegades. His colleague in the blue and red mask, Tyson Law and the woman in the Pegasus Kid mask. Abaddon, Tyler Grey and Chris Wolfe simply stand in their corner, ready and waiting, but the Renegade in the blue mask turns towards BDP, diverting the others’ attention to the man as well. The Circle of Snakes...just leave the ring and begin making their exit, albeit looking over their shoulders with a genuine curiosity.
At the one in the blue masks signal, the other masked man and Tyson Law pick BDP up onto his knees. The female masked member steps up...and SLAPS him across the face.
Crowd: “OOOOH!!!”
The masked one holding him then lets go, leaving Tyson Law to pull him up and deliver a Lawbreaker. And finally, the brutal double underhook piledriver from the masked man in blue.
Hanson: “Jim, this is bad! I hate to use the cliché but this looks like a car accident! Look at this!”
Reynolds: “What are they doing now?”
Back inside the ring, after a quick shot to the rest of the McKeesport Mafia laid out outside the ring, the masked women reaches back and begins undoing her mask, as do the other two.
Reynolds: “Wait wait, Nicky! They’re taking their masks off!”
Hanson: “Finally! We wanna know who the hell these people are!”
First, the woman. She rips her mask off revealing...CANDI BRODUER!!
Hanson: “WWWWWHAT?!?!”
Reynolds: “CANDI BRODUER?!?! WHAT THE HELL?!”
Next, the man in the purple and yellow mask. He opens the velcro under his chin and peels it back revealing the shockingly familiar face of JULIAN MORRISON!!
Reynolds: “NICKY!!”
Hanson: “IT’S JULIAN MORRISON!! OH MY GOD!!”
Reynolds: “Nicky that...he...he used to be a member of the old Dominion of Pain!”
Hanson: “Jim, he was the last LEADER of the Dominion after his mentor, Judas Lasher, retired! Even took the man's name for awhile!!”
Reynolds: “This is great! He’s back in N*FW!”
Finally, as the one in blue and red unfastened the back of his mask, Candi Broduer especially looked on, grinning with a sense of satisfaction. The last man, grabs his mask from the back and yanks it over and off, revealing the horribly scarred face of...MAX LEBRUN!!
Hanson: “Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyy God, Jimmy!!”
Reynolds: “Hoooooooly shit!”
Amidst the deafening mix of boos and cheers from the fans, Max LeBrun runs his hand through his black hair, brushing it completely out of his face, making sure the horrid burn scars on the right side are fully visible.
Hanson: “Dear god...Max LeBrun...Julian Morrison...Tyson Law...Candi Broduer. What the hell is this?”
Reynolds: “This is one hell of a team, Nicky! It all makes sense now! Body, heart and soul! These guys have sacrificed it all for these fans and for what?!”
Hanson: “They talked like it was a personal attack against them from the veterans!”
Reynolds: “You don’t think it is?!”
Hanson: “I may not but these maniacs - The Renegades - just made it personal!”
The final shot of the show focused in on the four Renegades standing in the ring, side by side. Max and Candi in the center with his arm around her shoulders, with Julian and Tyson flanking their sides. All four wearing Renegade shirts. The look on his scarred face, however, is downright menacing. Full of hate as the shot fades out....