Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Jun 24, 2018 18:21:18 GMT -8
The scene opens up as we see the arena and lots of cars in the parking lot. The camera moves to the backstage area and we see a black limo pull in. The limo stops. The very back door opens.... It's Clarence Fletcher Townsend and he's got Victoria Emmerson with him. They close the doors of the car and Clarence says, "Well this match should be a mat classic!" Victoria Emmerson laughs as they continue into the arena....
Following the arrival of Clarence Fletcher Townsend and Victoria Emmerson, we are treated to the intro to the show. After the opening pyro, we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds as the crowd roars throughout the ringside area; thousands in attendance, ready and rearing to go for tonight.
Hanson: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! We are LIVE in the Big Easy!"
Reynolds: "New-Fuckin-Orleans baby!!!"
Hanson: "And THIS is N--F--W!!"
Reynolds: "NEW--FRONTIER--FUCKIN--WRESTLING BABY!"
Hanson: "Will you stop that?"
Reynolds: "Stop what?"
Hanson: "What you're doing, just now."
Reynolds: "Commentating?"
Hanson: *we hear him give a groaning sigh* "It's gonna be a long night. At least I'm confident that tonight's line up will be enough to keep me distracted from my obnoxious colleague over here."
Reynolds: "Hey, Nicky."
Hanson: "What, Jim?"
Reynolds: "LET'S CALL SOME FUCKIN' WRESTLING, BABY!!"
Hanson: "Someone please, shoot me...."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the first match of the night, Clarence Fletcher Townsend defeated Matt Klazzic in 15:10 after slipping out of a suplex and shocking everyone -- Klazzic included -- with a sudden superkick that spun Matt around with his back to Townsend. Townsend immediately grabbed him around the neck and landed a rolling cutter which he called the Bad Trade before scoring the pinfall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We close in on the locker room area and the camera zooms in on the hallway where we see a locker room door open and its Ryan Steele on the phone.
"Now you guys get the point... i wanna do the open house next week".. "uh-huh... yea.. i know.. ive been trying to help with some of the work myself... thats labor cost you guys dont gave to do..." as Ryan is talking.. we do not hear eho is on the other end of the line... as the conversation continues " You guys got 7 days to finish".... as he hangs up the phone he turns to the camera....
"Hi NFW Universe.. My name is Ryan Steele... "Youve probably overheard some of the conversations ive been having on the phone... Well its because ive been work ridiculously hard to try to bring you something that no other superstar is willing to do...." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a paper...as he continues to talk ..." Yes.. If time willing... The project is still in its finishing stages and i would like to do a open house but ill get the details later on that... but its The Steele Training Facility and Program.. this is for would be wrestling superstars that would like a chance to see what they have.. or for anyone that wants to see behind the scenes of a wrestling show....its being facilitated behind my house in Ohio...when i get all the details i will give them to you....
Good Day"... camera backs away and the locker room door closes as well as the scene.....
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Doomsday defeated Satoru Shade III by pinfall in 4:08 after virtually squashing him for the entirety of the match, to the point that even the referee looked uncomfortable even being in the same ring with the larger man. When the Dominion of Pain's monster was, more or less, finished picking his opponent apart, he stepped back to let Shade climb to his feet only to run and hit him with a vicious Spear. Then, to the delight of the old school fans in the audience, he finished him off with his classic Mushroom Cloud, spinning powerbomb, planting a foot on Shade's chest as the referee counted.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera cuts to backstage where we see Max LeBrun walking through the hallway as the fans, watching on the tron from the arena, boo and jeer at the mere sight of the man. For the second time, we get a look at the changed man he has become. The upper right of his face scarred horribly from the infamous Inferno Match he suffered in during early in his career. While still categorized as a junior heavyweight, his stature has filled out more from the scrawny rookie to a well toned veteran with just over ten years of experience under his belt. Dressed in blue jeans, a brown leather jacket and a black t-shirt with converse sneakers, the man comes to a locker room door bearing, simply, the ‘R’ for the Renegades on it.
Stepping into the locker room, he comes upon the rest of the newly formed group. The man immediately moving to greet his co-founder, with a clasp of hands and a brotherly embrace. “And how’re the new generation of top athletes feeling tonight?” His question being directed mostly to Candi Broduer and Tyson Law - the two that have matches that night. “Ready to open some eyes and wake some bitches up?”
Tyson rolled his eyes and laughed, clapping Max on the back. Wearing a black leather jacket over a Black Label Society tee and faded jeans, he looked far more relaxed now that he wasn't trying to be a white-bread 'good-guy'. "Goddamn right. Privileged motherfuckers are given everything, then they have the nerve to act like they had to fight for it all. Out with the old, in with the new, my friend. Time to tear this bitch down."
Candi just grinned, taping her fists tightly. She'd been changed on many levels by the tragedy that altered her career path, and the once hyper, excited young girl was now a bitter, quiet woman. "I get to fire a shot tonight.... this bitch is the epitome of what I hate - she's here because Mommy and Daddy are famous. So I'll give Mommy and Daddy something to think about when I snap their little girl's neck with the Crossface tonight."
Max nodded, bearing a smirk that was cold and calculated - much unlike what he had been known for in his previous N*FW tenure. “I want you both to remember, when you go out there tonight, this is *your* moment! Both of you are up against a couple of spoon fed nobodies who are riding on the coat tails of their family members before them. They don’t have the drive you do. They aren’t hungry like you two! Us?” He gestured between himself and Julian Morrison. “We see the difference between those who deserve it and those who just got a free pass. That’s what separates *us*...” He gestures to the four of them as a whole, “...from *them*.” And points off to the side, indicating the rest of the roster in the building.
Max, then, steps over to where Candi is standing and looks her over. Most of his focus on her back before his cold gaze softens - if only just a little - as he offers her a warm smile in spite of the minor deformation his face has suffered. That which he partially conceals under his jaw length black hair. “How’s your back, candy cane?”
Candi looked up at Max, the closest thing to a soft smile she was still capable of coming over her. He knew what she'd suffered. The loss that nobody talked about. That was only spoken of in hushed whispers. He was there with her when it all happened. "It's fine. I'm a fast healer, you know that. I'm ready to move past that, now that I have real focus."
Max’s warmth turns to cold satisfaction at the change and determination in her attitude. An arm going around her shoulders as he turns towards the camera. “You see, N*FW? This is what real support is. This is what real respect is! This - *we* - are the faces of true determination.” Again, he gestures to the four of them. “The medical team, I bet, would have liked to keep my girl here out of the ring because of a flesh wound. Booking would have probably stuck Tyson against the no names and let the ‘second gens’ climb the ladder of success.” He shakes his head. “Not while we’re here. Not while the Renegades are still walking through your venues. *We* are a true team...*we* are what a real family looks like. And before you know it?” He cracks a cold grin. “This happy little family is gonna snatch up all of your little prizes. All of your trophies. Your fucking title belts, will - be - OURS! And with the four of us on the same page? There ain’t a damn thing anyone can do about it. Not the House of Payne, not the Dominion, not even the Great...whatever the hell you idiots call yourselves! You creaky old buzzards think you represent Canada? For starters, you’re looking at Canada’s golden children right here!”
He squeezes Candi’s shoulder with the arm around her while his other hand gestures between the two of them. “And you’re looking at the prodigy of professional wrestling right here....” He extends out one arm, the camera panning out to catch all four of them in the shot. After a short pause, Max looks over at Julian and smirks more humorously. “Hey, man, are you gonna say something or just stand there looking like the LeBron signed with the Lakers again?”
Julian just raised an eyebrow, flipping the middle finger to Max affectionately. "Motherfucker.... I hate the dude but at least we'd finally win some games again. And I ain't got much to say, to be honest. Only guy in this place that ever gave two shits about trying to help me succeed was Judas, which is why he's not on my hitlist. Everyone else though? Fuck 'em all."
Candi smirked at Julian, shaking her head. "Such a chatterbox..." She teased, before Tyson waked over, draping his arms over the shoulders of both men. "Enough talk. I'm ready to go out there and show Salvatore what happens when he faces the REAL me. Tonight, Nico.... the LAW.... breaks YOU."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Belphegor retained the N*FW Television Championship by defeating El Piso Mojado in another squash match that lasted all of about 2:00 before delivering a Spear, followed by the Ninth Circle and the pinfall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marissa Payne defeated Candi Broduer by disqualification after Marissa knocked Candi off of the apron and to the outside with a stiff elbow while they were fighting it out on either side of the ropes. While the referee was trying to keep Marissa from exiting the ring so he could start the 10 count, Candi Broduer, more angry than anything, grabbed a steel chair and slid into the ring behind Marissa, *SMACKING* her across the back.
Crowd: "OHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "Oh come on!"
Reynolds: "Yeah! Come on! Give her another!"
Hanson: "That's not what I meant! She needs to put that chair down! What the hell has gotten into Candi Broduer lately?"
Reynolds: "Max LeBrun?"
Hanson: "....You're terrible."
As Marissa Payne was writhing in pain on the mat from the shot, Candi Broduer lifted the chair up, preparing for a second shot. At that moment, however, the crowd gave a sudden pop as Candi turned in time to see Marissa's tag partner, Morgan Payne, blazing a foot trail down the ramp and to the ring. At the exact same time that Morgan came sliding in under the ropes, Candi went rolling out and made a retreat around the ring and up the ramp as Morgan helped Marissa to her feet before calling for a microphone.
Coming to stand back in the center of the ring with her blood sister, Morgan raised the mic to her mouth. "HEY!!!! CANDI!!!"
Reynolds: "She sounds pissed."
Hanson: "Ya think?!"
"HEY, I'M TALKIN T'YOU, BITCH!" Morgan yelled into the mic, coming to stand in front of the ropes and standing up on the bottom one. "Y'GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY HOME GIRL? Y'GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME!" Pushing off of the ropes, she backed up to the center of the ring again. "So how's about you and me mix it up ah-selves, huh? You an' me...one on one...mano y mano or chica y chica...whateva the hell the sayin' is. Let's just fuckin' do this. Next week! At Korakuen Hall!!!"
Reynolds: "Hoooooly shit!"
Hanson: "Looks like we might have an addition to our go-home show, if Mr. Brody approves it!"
Reynolds: "Please do. Then Candi can bust Morgan in the jaw and I won't have to listen to that god awful accent."
Hanson: "Wow...you're just on a roll of being an enormous super dick, tonight."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As we return from the commercial break and Ozzy’s Let Me Hear You Scream fades out, we find the camera following the, clearly recognizable, Women’s Champion. Wearing a sleeveless, Circle of Snakes t-shirt with the end tied up around her midriff and a pair of black, form hugging leather pants with black boots. Over her red and black hair is a Gojira skull cap. We don’t see her face until she reaches a locker room door and turns to where we see the side of her painted up features.
Holding her championship belt by her side in one hand, her other hand comes up in a fist and knocks on the door she stopped at. “Oh little mooouuuuse?” She calls teasingly in a tone she only ever used towards Mia Hayashi. “You’re not hiding from me are you?” She says, opening the door before anyone can answer and practically lets herself in, scanning the room for the Circle’s “honorary member.”
Mia was indeed in there, dressed in a Gwenpool costume, sans mask, and playing her 3DS. She looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"Sup, A? Look.... first of all: I'm not hiding. I'm done. There's a big damn difference. You saw how Abaddon acted last week. If you wanna be a psycho's punching bag, more power to you. But me? Yeah, no thanks. I'm done. Me and you are still cool. And I always got your back. But you can tell shithead that I'm all set.
And second... before you bother even trying... nope. Still not gonna fuck you."
Like a stalking predator...or something out of a weird horror movie...Apocalypta was in front of Mia, squatting down so that she was right up in the girl’s face. “Now now...who said anything about *you* fucking *me*?” Tilting her head, she gave Mia’s outfit a careful once over. “Besides....kinda mean of you to say something like that, dressed in something like this.” In an instance that would have probably landed her with a harassment charge with anyone else, Apocalypta brushed two fingers over one of Mia’s bare thighs.
Suddenly then, as if a switch went off in her head, Apocalypta rose up and turned to sit down beside her ally. “I’m starting to think you *are* teasing me on purpose.” She grinned, eerie as always with her makeup and eyes as she leaned over just enough to see the screen of the 3DS. “Whatcha playin’?”
Mia just blinked at the other woman, in disbelief, before saying in an entirely deadpan tone: ".....fuck my LIFE, woman! Do you want a restraining order? Cos this is how you get a restraining order." She sighed, shaking her head. "I adore you, babe. I do. But right now? I'm focused on nothing but my career." She paused then, pursing her lips in deep thought. "Unless at the PPV I somehow have a shot with Miho. Not gonna lie, I'd run over a family of five for six minutes alone with that woman."
Changing the subject then, she held her 3DS out to her friend(?), giving a little shrug. "Pokemon UltraSun. I think I'm a Pokemon hoarder or something. Like, I'll catch a damn Magikarp, but then when I find another one five minutes late, I'll catch that one too, cos I sit there thinking 'but what if this one is better than the one I caught five minutes ago...', you know? It's hard being OCD and a pokemon fan."
It was almost funny to see the, otherwise, intimidating woman of the Circle of Snakes get a look on her face at Mia’s Miho comment as if to ask ‘what am I, chopped liver?’ Deciding not to dwell, though, she looked at the screen of the 3DS. “Can’t you grind the weaker one up to empower the stronger one like on Pokemon Go?” She didn’t know. She wasn’t much of a Pokemon gamer. Instead, she backtracked to Mia’s remark about Abaddon.
“Look, about Abaddon....” She wasn’t sure what to say, really, in the man’s defense. “...We’re all a little on edge with the Dominion breathing down our necks. It’s bad enough that, yes, I’ve never seen the master so riled up about anything. And with those bastards starting to make their move, that’s mainly why I came looking for you. They know you’ve been with us. *Lara* knows you’ve been with us....” There was something in her body language and even somewhat visible on her face under that terrifying face paint. “I, for one, will be damned if I’m gonna see them make a target out of you. They can fuck with us all they want. They can fuck with *me* all they want. But they’d be smart not to even look at you wrong.”
"D'awwwwww." Mia coo'ed with a laugh, poking Apocalypta gently in the chest. "Lookit that...turns out there *is* a heart in there. Seriously though. I.... don't think I got anything else to worry about. Lara already beat me bloody and, admittedly, beat me handily. In case you haven't noticed, while they're trying to make the whole group lose... the only one they keep targeting with violence is the dumbass that got you all in this position to begin with. We were out of line, yeah. But Abaddon took that shit next-level. And they aren't gonna stop until they wipe him out. C'mon, A... you of ALL people should know what they're capable of! Walk away from that psycho before it's too late."
For a moment, it looked like there was some inner turmoil going on with the champion. At Mia’s joke of a heart, Apocalypta even lifted a hand up to where the girl poked as if to check and see if she actually *did* feel a beat. That hand clenched into a fist, though as she lowered it into her lap over the title that laid over her knees.
Apocalypta looked down at the center plate of her belt and slowly shook her head. “I can’t.... If it weren’t for Abaddon, I probably would have never made it this far. He took me in when everyone else I gave a damn about abandoned me....” She lifted her head again to look at Mia. “That...and Blackheart hasn’t paid nearly enough for what she’s done. I could care less about what Judas Lasher and the others getting involved. But she made it personal...when she let da—...when she let my *father* get involved! That old, twisted Aleister Crowley wanna be can take his ‘once a monster, always a monster’ crap and choke on it! My father retired for a reason. So if the little sweetheart wants to play rough? I’ll play her little game...and she’ll regret ever deciding to push me.”
"If you need me, I'll be there. I mean that." Mia said with a drawn-out sigh, before setting her game aside. "But I'm out, as far as this war is concerned. Lara was right: I *am* selfish. And I did throw our entire friendship away just to get ahead. But I also made it way more personal than I feel comfortable with. I paid the price, and I'm done." And just when it seemed Mia might be completely serious for once, "Plus, Lara still has my favorite Spongebob shirt, and I'm hoping if I back off she'll still give it back."
Mia’s return to her cute behavior was like another switch being flipped in Apocalypta and the woman moved out of her seat and leaned right towards the smaller woman with her hands on either side of her on the bench with her face *extremely* close to hers.
“Well...it’s good to know I still have you to turn to, if necessary.” Her black painted lips peeled back into an eerily seductive grin. “I better go check in with the others. You know where I’m staying, too...if you decide you want some company.”
One hand came up and tilted Mia’s chin up with just one finger. “Bye for now...little mouse....” She added, before letting Mia’s chin go as she backed slowly out of frame as the shot faded out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera opens on a pair of taped up hands pulling the lid off of Copenhagen Wintergreen Long Cut dipping tobacco. One hand pinches out a large wad between the thumb and the fore and middle fingers. The camera follows the hand up as it lifts the tobacco up and stuffs it into the bottom lip of Teddy Morse; an Operation Iraqi Freedom Veteran cap on his head. With a visible wad inside his mouth, he smirks and covers the can of dip with the lid again. "Goddamn, shun!" He exclaims happily, his speech slightly inhibited by the wad in his mouth. "Feelsh good t'be back on live TV again! Them housh shows were borin' me t'tearsh!" Panning back, we see he's dressed in his gear with a sleeveless black t-shirt that says 'Southern 'Till The Day I Die' on the front in red, white and blue letters with the Rebel flag behind it.
From the side, his tag team partner, Chase Evans steps into frame, just then finishing up with taping his own hands. "What are you whining about? We got mad pops at every venue. How're you gonna get bored with reactions like that?"
Teddy shrugs his shoulders and stuffs his can of dip back into his duffle bag beside his feet as he sits on the bench inside their locker room. "Yeah, man, but c'mon. You mean t'tell me that goin' up against a bunch of rookie enhancement talent didn't make ya feel a little...whatsh the word?"
Chase frowns, suspiciously. "You're not saying it felt like we were underused, are ya?"
Teddy's eyes go wide as he snaps his fingers and points at his partner and friend. "Thatsh it! Underused!"
Chase rolls his eyes. "Teddy, c'mon, man. You remember what Mr. Brody told us? He handpicked us -- *clap* hand *clap* picked *clap* us -- to test out the newblood! You should feel priviledged that he chose us for that. Said he felt like they could learn something from us."
Teddy frowns, almost more like a comical pout as he hangs his head. "I know bro, but...sheeyut, we missed the first pay-per-view. The FIRST pay-per-view! That was a big moment for NFW!"
Chase sits down beside his partner and claps a large hand on his shoulder. "Brother, there's gon' be tons more pay-per-views for us to make it on. Hey, we're back on TV, now! What are we jabberin' on for when we got people all over the world watchin' us?" He grins through his thick beard and nods his head towards the camera on them.
Teddy looks as if he just noticed the camera and grins wide after spitting into an empty water bottle. "Well, hell, that's right! How y'all doin?! Did yew mish us?"
"Them Southern boys're back, baby!" Chase exclaims with Teddy leaning up straight and cocking his head back with a loud "YEE YEE!"
Teddy looks directly at the camera again, leaning forward once more with his arms resting on his knees. "Hey, we may have been out of the spotlight for a bit, but one things fer damn sure, the Rebel Rousers damn sure ain't sufferin' from ring dust. Hell, I--" Teddy stops when he notices Chase looking at him funny. "What?"
"Ring rust." Chase says simply.
Teddy frowns in confusion. "Huh?"
Chase rolls his eyes and sighs. "Ring 'rust'! Not ring dust."
Teddy looks at Chase with a similar expression to the one his friend just gave him. "Nah man. It'sh totally dust."
"Naw, it ain't, man!"
"Dude! Ring rust makesh no damn sensh!" He pauses to spit in the bottle again. "Ring dust. Like y'know. Because a wrassler who's been outta action for awhile needsh t'dust himself off!"
The crowd watching from the arena can be heard laughing as Chase covers his face with his hands and sighs heavily. "Jesus Christ...you dense son of a bitch."
Teddy shrugs his hands out, looking confused and a little offended. "What?"
"RING...RUST!" Chase raises his voice to emphasize. "Like when you leave something out and don't use it for awhile?"
Teddy nods. "Exactly! It gets dushty! It collects dusht!"
"Alright, y'got a point, but it gets rusty, too! Old and rusty!" Chase remarks with an exhausted tone. Beside him, Teddy stops and looks like he's thinking. We can almost see the gears turning in his skull.
Finally, Teddy shakes his head and spits into the bottle again. "I still think it's ring dust, man."
"Fuck me." Chase sighs and throws up his hands in surrender. "Alright! Whatever! Call it what you want, man. Either way---" He looks back at the camera. "As this is our first week back on y'alls big screen, we'd like to extend a message out to our opponents tonight. Buzzsaw and Crimson Sabre---"
"FUCK Y'ALL!" Teddy shouts, pointing at the camera with a comical look of anger on his face and flips the middle finger. "GAWD DAYUM, HOCUS POCUS, HALLOWEEN LOOKIN' MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Chase just stares at him in embarrassment that he actually knows this man sitting beside him. Finally, he looks back at the camera with a look that's almost apologetic and waves a hand dismissively at his partner. "Ignore him. He can be retarded sometimes." Teddy looks at Chase like the man just slapped a beer out of his hand as the bigger of the two continues. "Look, there's no denyin' y'all are a couple o'bad dudes. We used to watch y'all before we got into the business ourselves. Shit, Teddy dressed up as Buzzsaw for Halloween one year. It was fuckin' hilarious!" He says, thumbing to his partner.
Teddy slaps him in the arm, with his eyes going wide. "Shut up, man! That costume was bad as shit!"
Chase nods. "It *was* bad. You spray painted a ski mask and superglued a bunch o'damn thumbtacks on it. Anyway!" Chase gets back on subject before Teddy can respond with a comeback. "We know better than to take y'all lightly. At the same time, we want y'all to know not to take *us* lightly."
"Damn right!" Teddy cuts in as Chase starts wrapping things up.
"Because the Rebel Rousers are back!"
"Thatsh right, baby!" Teddy spits into his bottle.
"We're comin' t'whup some ass!"
"Yessir!"
"And we're gon' raise hell like nobody else can!"
"HEEEEEEEELL YEEEEEEEAAAAAH!!!" Teddy hollers out his signature phrase, taken from their entrance theme.
Chase slaps Teddy in the chest, pumped up. "Let's go, brother!" He stands up off of the bench and steps out of frame as Teddy grabs his throat and begins to gag and cough. It's clear he's choking on the wad of dip he put in earlier. He gets to his feet as Chase calmly comes back into frame with a confused look on his face. Teddy grabs at his throat with one hand while pointing down at his gaping mouth with the other. Calmly, casually, as if nothing's to be concerned about, Chase gives his tag partner a hard slap on the back, causing Teddy to lurch forward and go into a coughing fit as the dip dislodges from his throat and launches out of his mouth.
"Quit dickin' around, man." Chase says before stepping off screen once more.
Gasping as the air flows back into his lunges and his face returns to a normal color, Teddy wipes his mouth. "Whew! Yer a life saver, man!" He calls as he follows after his tag partner.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Buzzsaw and Crimson Sabre defeated the Rebel Rousers after an electric tag team contest that went on for 12:57 when Buzzsaw delivered his finishing snap kick directly to the jaw of Chase Evans, causing the big man to crumple to the mat, allowing him to go for the pinfall while Sabre countered Teddy Morse's attempt to enter the ring by darting across the ring and delivering a Tope Suicida to send him to the floor. After the bell rang, the ring doctor was called in to take a look at Evans when it became clear that he was spitting blood. A quick examination at ring side revealed that the kick from Buzzsaw had knocked out a few of his teeth. Rather than let the pain hinder him, Chase Evans let Teddy Morse help him to his feet as he glared up the ramp at the two Dominion of Pain members with a bloody sneer. Beside him, Teddy Morse could be seen mouthing 'this ain't over!'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cutting from ringside to backstage, we see Commissioner Steven Brody in his office with Amy Connors.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here with N*FW Commissioner, Steven Brody who has some exciting news to share with us about the second, upcoming pay-per-view, When Worlds Collide. Now, we are already well aware of the main event where we will see our N*FW World Heavyweight Champion, Scott Leroux, defend his title against the IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Kazuchika Okada. However...." She says with an excited smile on her face, "Mr. Brody, you said you have some additional news to announce."
Smiling enthusiastically, Steven Brody nods and speaks into the mic. "I do, indeed, Amy. As our fans know, the main event will pit one of our own top talent against the top talent of our partnering brand, New Japan Pro Wrestling. However, in the spirit -- you could say -- of the pay-per-view's name, not only will our World Champion be defending his championship against an outside competitor not contracted with New Frontier Wrestling, but each and every one of our champions will help carry our banner as they defend their titles against other challengers from outside of our brand."
Amy's eyes widen in surprise as her smile grows. "Wow! Now *that* is some amazing news, sir. Can you tell us exactly who those challengers will be?"
With a kind, albeit mischievous smile, Brody chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely could, Amy...but, I won't."
Amy's smile drops, confusion showing on her face. "No? Oh...well...may I ask why?"
Brody laughs good heartedly. "Trust me, Amy. It's nothing against anybody. But! One of the things I always loved about watching professional wrestling when I was growing up was that element of surprise. Those mystery superstars that came in and left us, as viewers, absolutely stunned. The element of surprise. Like I said before, I have full confidence in our roster members that they can meet any challenge thrown at them. So, with that being said, I wanna see our champions staying on their toes because in two weeks...at the Tokyo Dome...only one of our champions knows who it is that's gonna come walking down that ramp to try and take their title. As for the rest of you? I want you to silence all naysayers. I want you to show the world what it really means to be a fighting champion! I want the world to see--" Brody is saying as something off camera catches Amy Connors' attention. She looks up and ahead of her and Brody. Her eyes suddenly go wide and she lets out a blood curdling, terrified scream which causes Brody's head to snap up and see what has her so shook up. While his reaction is much calmer, he's still a little taken aback by the interruption. "Amy, it's fine." He says, resting a hand on her shoulder to help calm her down. "It's alright. We'll...we'll finish this up later." With a nod of dismissal, Amy Connors backs up, never taking her eyes off of the still unseen horror. She takes a wide arc around the room to make her exit as Steven Brody adjusts his tie and looks with mostly annoyance...just a little bit of worry in his eyes...as the Dominion of Pain's Doomsday steps into frame, towering over the Commissioner. "Can I help you with something?"
A low, growl of an exhale comes from Doomsday who's dressed back in his hooded jacket as the camera only gets a back view of him. "We need to talk...." From there, we fade out to a commercial....
*************************************************************
*An old black and white movie showing men 50 feet away from the camera walking into a snow covered firest. The old reel skips in places, every so often there seem to be small jumps in time. The men all carry buckets and appear to be laughing silently as soft music plays. A soothing male voice speaks over the music*
"For years Canadians have ventured into snow covered forests to harvest the sap of the mighty Canadian maple just before the arrival of spring..."
*The old movie is replaced with a modern, colourized shot of a spigot sticking out of a tree, clear liquid dripping into a bucket hanging underneath it*
"This liquid is the main ingredient of the lifeblood of Canadians everywhere, and once processed and sweetened..."
*Dark brown, viscuous liquid pours from a filling machine into five bottles positioned under the nipples of the filler. The bottle fills to the top, the nipples stop pouring, and the five bottles are mechanically whisked away as five new empty bottles replace them and the process continues*
"It is transformed into a part of a healthy breakfast!"
*The camera pans out from a closeup of a plate of pancakes to show a full breakfast, placed perfectly on a beautiful, complimentary table setting. Eggs, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, toast, juice, milk, and three pancakes look good enough to eat*
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Rick Dickulous agrees, that's why he is proud to introduce 'Tree Blood,' his new line of Maple Syrup, being sold exclusively in the NFW online store!"
*Cut to a shot of Rick Dickulous holding a bottle shaped like a giant drop, with red, bleeding letters spelling out the product name, with a white silhouette of Rick's face. The letters make it seem as though his forehead is bleeding. Rick smiles into the camera*
"Tree Blood is the best maple syrup you can buy, guy! Let me show you why!"
*The camera pans out to a table with two stacks of pancakes on two separate plates. In front of one, a sign reading "OTHER GUYS," and one in front of the other with "TREE BLOOD" on it in the product's bleeding font*
"Here we have two stacks of Grandma's buttermilk pancakes. These motherfuckers right here would make a beaver chew it's balls off to get out of a trap just to get the crumbs - no shit, it happened once...followed the trail of blood all the way back to the tough sumbitch's ballsack hangin' there frozen as fuck!"
*An inaudible voice is heard off camera and Rick focuses off to the side, shielding his eyes from the stage lights*
"What? This is supposed to be PG? Fuck that, you definitely got the wrong fuckin' guy to do this shit show.....you want me to keep going?"
*The off camera voice is much more clear this time*
"Rick, kids are supposed to see this and buy your product. That's how this is supposed to work...I mean, you can't drop f-bombs if kids are watching."
"Man, fuck the kids..."
*Rick looks into the camera*
"I mean that totally non sexually....like, they've heard and said worse by now..."
*The camera adjusts, Rick points at the pancakes*
"We doin' this or not, buddy? These pancakes are makin' me hungry as fuck!"
*The off camera voice again audible*
"Just run with it and we'll shoot another one later..."
*Rick picks up the OTHER GUYS syrup and pours it over the pancakes. It seems to be runny, and not as dark as the syrup pouring into the bottles from earlier in the commercial*
"See how this shit just goes everywhere? Like, this syrup is seriously fuckin' the dog in every aspect. It's making a fuckin' great lake on my plate, and that means soggy pancakes. That, my friends, is a travesty."
*Rick picks up the TREE BLOOD bottle and pours it over the other stack of pancakes. It has a reddish tint to it, and while it flows, it is very thick and non viscuous, looking almost like real blood*
"Tree Blood is my jam - literally! See that red colour? Motherfuckin' strawberry JAM, GUY!"
*Rick excitedly dips his finger into the syrup and puts it in his mouth. He loudly cleans his finger and points it at the camera*
"TREE BLOOD, GUY! IT'LL MAKE YOUR BREAKFAST AMAZEBALLS! SORRY, NOT SORRY!"
*Rick shoots finger guns at the camera as the scene fades to black*
*************************************************************
Fading back in from the commercial, Steven Brody paces around his office, sharply waving his hands outward. "No. NO!" He shouts the second, 'no.' "Absolutely not!" He turns, with the camera, towards Doomsday, who has helped himself to sitting in the Commissioner's desk chair with his boots propped up on the desk as he leans back in the chair with his fingers of both hands pressed together in his lap. Brody comes and leans over across the desk with his hands resting upon the surface. A scowl on his face. "Are you out of your mind...?"
Doomsday, remaining silent, looks up from his lap and up at Brody. "Cute...."
"No, I'm serious!" Brody snaps back. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I will *NOT* allow something like that in this promotion! Not while I'm the one in charge!" He slams his hand on the desk.
Slowly and smoothly, Doomsday brings his feet off of the desk and leans forward with his hands folding over the top. With the way Brody is leaning forward, this puts the two face to face, almost nose to nose as the camera pans in to dramatize the moment. "Do you *feel* in charge?"
We can see a bead of sweat slowly run down the side of Steven Brody's scowling face as he is clearly fighting to remain calm and vigilant in the face of the monster before him. "Listen to me...very closely." He says, with a near growl in his own voice. "Lara Blackheart may have convinced me to sign the Dominion of Pain...but I will not let you start calling the shots. You wanna try a mutiny? We can see if you handle legal action as well as you compete in the ring!"
Doomsday scoffs under his mask in amusement. "We wouldn't dream of it. Well...perhaps some might. But all I ask for is this one little thing."
Brody's eyes widen in disbelief. "One little thing?" He pushes off of his desk and rests his hands on his hips. "What you're asking for?! It's abominable! It's reckless! My answer is 'no'! Request denied! You're welcome, sir; now, get out of my office!"
Doomsday gives a dark, ominous chuckle before rising from his seat, once again towering over the owner of the company. "Well...I see you've made your decision. Now let's see how well you stick to your guns, Commissioner...." He steps out from behind the desk and walks passed Brody without another word. The Commissioner turns to watch him go and we pan in on Brody's furious face as we hear the door to his office open and close before fading out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In her locker room, Erin Mercer is dressed and ready to go in a green and black variation of her gear. Almost a clear nod at matching the color theme of her tag team partner for the night. The camera focuses in on her, low from the floor, as the woman is down on the floor, knocking out a set of fast paced, angled pushups - her feet pressed up against the wall, higher than the rest of her. She inhales slowly as she comes down, exhaling sharply as the explodes upwards. Her fiery red hair, currently bunned up to keep it out of her face.
Erin had her pre-match prep, and Kid Cthulu had hers.As Erin did her pushups, the masked girl sat in the corner, an ALPHA CLUB tee over her wrestling gear, flipping through a Deadpool comic. Clearly the girl worked out to have the body she had... but apparently it wasn't right before matches.
"Erin? Are you sure you don't wanna just read something? Laughing before the match will relieve some stress, maybe help you loosen up mentally..."
Erin was silent at first, picking up the pace in her pushups before the final one where she came down slowly, held the pose then sprang up onto her feet, catching her breath. Walking over to take a seat beside her partner, Erin leaned back against the wall. “I like to get the blood pumping before I go out. Helps me stay limber.”
She looked over at Kid Cthulhu and then down at the comic in her hand. “How are you so calm, anyway? We’re not exactly going out for some friendly competition here.” Pausing, she glanced down at the page her partner was on which did cause her to crack a small grin. “Which one’s this one?”
"I stay calm because, if I don't? I spaz out and get all over-hyper, and then I throw up." Cthulu said, that sweet (and somehow familiar) voice sounding almost hilarious coming from beneath such a horrifying mask. "And I'm reading the story where he steals Dracula's bride from him and marries her himself."
The reminder of the comic issue causes Erin to laugh so suddenly, she actually snorts and covers her mouth in sudden surprise (and partial embarrassment), but maintains her light mood. “Dude, that’s like top ten Deadpool issues, of all time! My favorite one, though, is his first time meeting his warped ass clone.” Something suddenly dawns on her as her eyes go wide and she grabs Cthulhu by the arm in excitement. “Hey! You know, I haven’t seen the new movie yet. We should dip out after our match and go catch a late night showing. You down?”
"That sounds awesome! I've seen it but I'd love to see it again, and I won't spoil anything, and...." Cthulu paused, a slightly embarrassed tone to her voice as she timidly asked, ".....do you mind if I wear my mask?"
Erin raised an eyebrow in curiosity, reaching out and playfully flicking the tentacles of the mask so that they swayed some. “Uh...I guess not? Why, you got an older sister that burned down the family funeral home or something?” She asked in a joking tone.
"No, nothing like that..." She hung her head a little in embarrassment. "There's just.... if my identity even accidentally got back to certain people, my career would be toast. So... I kinda can't take any chances."
Erin put her fingers over her mouth then dropped them to her heart. “Oh crap! You owe the mob money, don’t you?!” She laughed and patted the girl’s shoulder. “Kidding. Look, I’m no one to judge. And frankly, with what you’re doing for me? It’s the least I can do. I didn’t ask anybody to back me up with any of this. While I don’t know why you’re doing this, I feel like I’ve watched you enough to know you’re motive is genuine. I’ll be honest, I was a little nervous about going into this alone but I think the two of us can do this. We *need* to do this...for Vin.”
Here, her playful, friendly mood dropped again and the thought of what was at stake seemed to hang over her again like a dark cloud.
"You really care about him.... I can see that. And you seem like a good person. There aren't enough of us here." She explained, pulling her knees to her chest. "I got into this because I love the sport. Because I wanted to be like my hero. Not because I wanted to hurt people or be cruel."
Erin chuckled unsurely. “I try to be. You’re right, though, there’s not enough good people here. I mean, look what we’re up against. Me? I got into this because being the only girl out of four kids, this was how we bonded. Every pay-per-view that aired, every weekly episode of...hell...you name the promotion, we watched it.” She laughs. “I never thought I’d be the one to actually end up taking lessons and making a career out of it. But Vin was the one who really helped me take off. You know, he got into this for the same reason you did. You should watch him in the ring, next time. I mean...after this is all said and done...and the guy remembers what his real drive is. Dude’s entire arsenal is like an homage to the superstars he grew up watching. I bet you two’d get along damn good, matter of fact.”
".......oh my god you're trying to set me up with him." Cthulu snorted adorably, breaking into a giggle fit. "ERIN MERCER, YOU ARE TRYING TO SET ME UP!"
If signs could have magically appeared over one’s head, Erin Mercer probably would have had one that said “GUILTY” flashing in neon lighting. Instead, her expression was enough to give her away. “I AM NOT!!” Bullshit, she wasn’t. “Alright, I might be....” Stop sugar coating. “Fine, I totally am. But hey, that’s on you two!” Even the crowd watching from the ringside area was laughing at the adorableness of both girls.
Once again, Erin turned serious. “Still. Thanks again for being here. To help me...well...help him. I don’t know what it’s gonna take. I don’t know how long we’ll have to push Rosemary and Angel, but it’s clear to me that with those two working together, he’s just their little puppet and I will *not* have that! I will fight them for as long as I can stand on my own two feet. That’s the distance I’m willing to go.”
She watched Kid Cthulhu for a moment, gauging her behavior, it seemed. “Only question I have for you, is....” She raised a hand up. “You fully with me on this?”
"I appreciate the gesture. I do. But there's really... yeah, there's only one guy here I'm kinda stupid for. And don't ask, cos I'm not telling." She got serious again then, listening to Erin finish before nodding confidently. "Fully and completely. Those two are nuts, and I hate seeing good people like you and Vince get crapped on like this. Metaphorically, I mean. Not literally like in those videos Lara put on my laptop when I wasn't looking." After a moment of silence, she added, "Forget I said that. And never speak of it again."
Erin just stared at Kid Cthulhu like she’d watched the girl peel the flesh off of her skull. “...Alright, we’re gonna have to find a theater that serves alcohol. I’m gonna need a beer after hearing that.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Remind me to keep my phone locked if I ever hang out with Lara. Alright then. Enough sitting here and shit talking....” She stopped and sighed. “That was the wrong thing to say.” Just then came a knock on the locker room door. “Mercer! Kid! You’re up!”
She waved her hands, dismissing the words before hopping up onto her feet. “Alright! Ready to do this?”
".....almost." She looked at Erin, realizing that in front of her stood possibly the only person in the locker room with as pure a heart as her own. She could trust this girl, and she knew it deep down. Turning her back to the camera, she quickly pulled up the front of her mask, so that Erin could see her face, before pulling it back down. "That should show you how fully in I am. Do not tell ANYONE."
The last that the camera saw was the wide eyed look of shock on Erin Mercer’s face with a hand coming up over her mouth before the shot abruptly cut to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In an emotional match that saw Erin Mercer try, throughout, to maintain focus on hers and Kid Cthulhu's opponents and not let herself be distracted by the presence of her once best friend, Vincent Stone, in the opposite corner, the team of underdogs took the fight full steam ahead to the Sisters of Sin - Rosemary and Angel.
At the climax of the 10:28 match, Rosemary countered a wild clothesline from an enraged Erin Mercer and lifted her onto her shoulders, delivering the Red Wedding! However, she failed to see the blind tag by Kid Cthulhu and, as the Hive Mother went for the pinfall on Erin, she came off of the ropes with The Call of Cthulhu and quickly rolled her up for the pinfall victory.
After the bell, once Kid Cthulhu helped Erin Mercer to her feet, the two victors shared a brief celebration before Erin turned to the retreating team of Rosemary, Angel and Vincent Stone. A look of determination came across her face as she made a beeline outside of the ring to grab a microphone before returning to the ring with her entrance jacket in hand.
"HEY!" She called out towards the three. "HEY VIN!" Calling to Stone specifically.
Reynolds: "Uh-oh...."
Hanson: "She's not gonna give up, trying to reach him."
Reynolds: "Might be a lost cause, Nicky."
Hanson: "I'm calling bull on that one!"
Inside the ring, after she'd gotten their attention, Erin Mercer dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out something cupped inside of her hand.
Hanson: "Wait, a minute. What's she got?"
"CATCH!" Erin narrowed her eyes at the Sisters of Sin and Vincent Stone before suddenly tossing the object in her hand over the ropes and having it land on the floor at Stone's feet. Hesitantly, Stone looked down at the object as the camera honed in on him. On the floor was a bracelet made of metallic beads and charms.
Reynolds: "What the hell is that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "I...I don't know...."
Something said that Stone did, however. At least some part of him, however, as he slowly reached down and picked the bracelet up to get a closer look. The longer he looked at it, the man began to wince and shake his head, bringing a hand up to his temple.
Hanson: "Wait. Jim, look. Is he...?"
Clutching the bracelet in his hand, Stone looked up at Erin in the ring with a pained and confused expression. Before he could get a word out, however, Rosemary stepped up and snatched the bracelet out of his hand to look at it. Tilting her head with a demented smile, the Hive Mother wiggled the thing mockingly at Erin before tossing it like a piece of trash back at her and quickly leading Vincent Stone up the ramp as he clutched his head.
Inside the ring, Erin Mercer grabbed the bracelet up, holding it protectively as she watched the trio depart...with a look of slight accomplishment on her face before turning to Kid Cthulhu with a hopeful smile as the shot faded out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Jackyl's "The Lumberjack" blasts over the stadium speakers. Rick Dickulous comes out onto the stage, Silver Mountain Championship slung over his right arm, playing the crowd.*
Hanson: "Here's Rick Dickulous, ladies and gentlemen."
Reynolds: "The crowd loves this guy, they just love him!"
Hanson: "It makes me sick."
On the way to the ring, Rick exchanges high fives with fans, poses for selfies, takes some selfies with fans cameras, etc. He climbs up onto the apron and steps over the ropes, hoisting the belt over his head as the crowd pops. Rick motions to ringside for a microphone*
"What's up, guy?"
*The crowd cheers, Rick motions for quiet*
"So, last week, Kennedy Campbell and I had a little chat, eh? So, I was out fer a rip the other day, smokin' a dart, thinkin' to myself: 'Self, how many clicks until my next oil change, and maybe Kennedy's right.'"
Hanson: "I think that rustbucket he drives needs more than an oil change."
Reynolds: "Maybe he just takes care of things, come on....guy!"
Hanson: "Jesus Christ..."
*Rick slowly walks around the ring as he talks*
"So, here's what I'm gonna do. Shelton Benjamin? Bro, I promised you fist go at this title, guy. And since I don't want to be a bad role model, I'm gonna make sure I keep my word."
"I don't know when Brody wants to schedule it, buddy, but I'm down whenever you are, eh? Just to be clear, I'm not exactly calling you out - I know that's how it sounds...but believe me, that's not what's goin' on here."
*Rick motions to the screen. A clip rolls, showing Rick Dickulous interfering in a match between Shelton and then champion Adam Cole. Rick gyrates his hips as Shelton looks at him totally confused, only to step back into the ring to an Adam Cole superkick and a pin*
"See, Shelton, I know that was my fault, friend. You were on track to win that match, and become the Silver Mountain Champ...but I had other plans, and my plans interfered with yours. I just wanna say, from the bottom of my heart...."
Hanson: "Oh, no....here it comes..."
Reynolds: "He's Canadian, folks...he's about to show his true colours.."
"I'm sorry."
*The crowd goes absolutely insane. Rick attempts to speak over them*
"So, you name the match, Shelton-guy, and Brody can set the date...assuming you're down. No hard feelings, no rivalry...just two kick ass guys putting on a kick ass show for some kick ass fans!"
Hanson: "There he goes again, sucking up to the fans. This guy is atrocious, I tell ya!"
Reynolds: "Why don't you get into the ring and tell him that...buddy!"
Hanson: "Give your head a shake..."
*Rick points up the ramp*
"Connor? Guy? Come on out, I wanna make sure Shelton can use our match as inspiration. Sorry, not sorry."
*Rick tosses the microphone to a stagehand and slides out of the ring, waiting for Connor K's entrance*
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After Connor K made his entrance and the bell rang, the match really didn't get underway at all. About, literally, ten seconds in, Rick Dickulous and Connor K went for the initial lock up when Ghost's "Faith" loudly interrupted the match through the speakers.
Reynolds: "The fuuuuuuuuck?"
Hanson: "DOOMSDAY?!"
Sure enough, both Connor K and Rick Dickulous turned towards the ramp as the music roared on with the darkened lighting giving an eerie effect. Seconds into the real start of the riff, Doomsday appeared on stage, shrouded in his hooded jacket as the 6'10 monster came marching with a purpose down the ramp and towards the ring.
Reynolds: "Nicky, what the hell is he doing out here?"
Hanson: "You're asking me?"
Without any pause or hesitation, Doomsday reached the ring and climbed up onto the apron, entering over the top rope. Only then did his music fade and the lighting return to normal. Here, the referee approached him, inaudibly but visibly telling him to leave the ring to the match could continue. To the shock of all watching, Doomsday grabbed the referee by the back of the head and tossed him through the top and middle ropes like a child, causing the man to tumble to the floor before he turned his attention on the two competitors.
Hanson: "He just tossed the referee like he was nothing! The hell is this guy doing?!"
Reynolds: "I don't know, but I have half a mind to haul ass outta here, if Doomsday's gonna just start throwing motherfuckers."
A few, uncomfortable seconds passed as Doomsday stared Rick and Connor down before he took two slow steps towards them. The first to react was Connor, rushing forward right into the vice grip of Doomsday's hand around his throat. Doomsday paused, forcing him to lean backwards as he loomed over him with cold eyes before hoisting him up with the other hand and delivering a brutal CHOKESLAM!!!!!
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD!!!!!"
Reynolds: "He's gonna feel that one in the morning!"
Hanson: "I still wanna know why Doomsday's doing this!"
Reynolds: "No clue, but now he's looking at Rick!"
With Connor K down, Doomsday slowly turned towards Rick Dickulous, slowly stepping towards him. Rather than back down, the Silver Mountain Champion stepped up to meet the man who matched him in height and the two came nose to nose. The New Orleans crowd went...absolutely...NUTS!!!!
Hanson: "Look at THIS, Jimmy! These guys are nose to nose! Two of the biggest guys in N*FW!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, if they do this here, this entire ring could implode."
Surely enough, though, they did. While Doomsday threw the first punch, Rick blocked the second and began opening up on the Dominion's giant with a vicious array of Krav Maga style strikes. The fans were on their feet as Rick Dickulous began beating Doomsday back into a corner, finally tackling him into it and ramming him with his shoulder over and over until it appeared the man was on uneven footing.
Hanson: "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!! HE'S ROCKED HIM!! RICK DICKULOUS HAS ROCKED DOOMSDAY!! NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE CAN CLAIM THAT ONE!!!"
It was short lived, however, as Rick turned to get the fans riled up even more. Once he turned back towards Doomsday however, the hooded giant came dashing out of the corner with a savage SPEAR, taking Rick right off of his feet and to the mat. Coming up on one knee, Doomsday threw back his hood and let out a terrifying roar as he came to stand over Rick.
Reynolds: "He shouldn't have turned his back on him!"
Hanson: "I won't be surprised if he doesn't have bruised ribs after that one!"
Doomsday wasn't quite done, however, as he reached down to pull Rick Dickulous up and delivered the Fallout just to make sure the job - whatever the job happened to be - was done. Getting to his feet then, Ghost's "Faith" resumed again as Doomsday stood amongst the carnage he wrought.
Hanson: "Jim, what was the point of all of this?!"
Reynolds: "I...I have no idea, Nicky.... For once, even I'm speechless...."
Before leaving the ring, Doomsday stepped right up to the camera in the corner and simply glared through his mask before exiting the ring and departing up the ramp as if nothing had ever happened.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera opened up to the arena as the opening guitar riff of I Prevail's "Come And Get It" started playing over the speakers. As the music foretold, the Urban Gladiator, Nico Salvatore appeared out on the stage in his usual manner. Fired up, but at the same time, showing disdain for the fans. Making his way down to the ring, the man took a last second detour from the steps and began digging underneath the ring.
Hanson: "What is he...?"
Reynolds: "Who knows?"
As his music continued on, Nico proceeded to dig out three folding chairs which he set up beside each other at the end of the ramp before getting into the ring and calling for a mic.
"Cut my fuckin' music!" He snapped into the microphone over the boos of the fans. "Everybody; SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Reynolds: "You heard him people!"
Hanson: "Oh, knock it off."
Pacing back and forth inside the ring, Nico glared up at the ramp with the mic raised to his mouth. "Tyson? I'm gonna make this short and sweet, f'nuc. Shorter than your junk and sweeter than your sister's ass!"
Hanson: "Jesus, Tyson Law may have taken a turn down the wrong path, but why do we let Nico continue to use a mic?"
Reynolds: "Will you shut up and let him talk?"
Inside the ring, Nico came to a halt in the center of the ring, pointing towards the ramp. "You wanna run with a pack of marmalukes, runnin' a train on that two dollar piece of ass that rolls with 'em? Fine by me, paisano. But! One thing I ain't gonna fuckin' stand for is you pulling some backstabbin' shit and just lettin' it fly. Ya see, me? At least *I* got the BALLS to admit to your face that I think you're nothing but a no-talented, punk ass bitch, and that frankly? You an' me'll probably never see eye to eye on anything. I don't need to act like I've had a change of heart, just to get the jump on somebody!" He lowered the mic, taking a moment to compose himself.
"Now...a bunch of these dumbasses here...." He points to the crowd. "They've been blowing up my twitter and my instagram - which ya sister follows me on both, by the way - but they've been blowing my shit up, saying a bunch of crap like 'oh, Nico! What are you gonna do, now? Tyson's got two of the greatest competitors N*FW's ever seen with him!'" He says the last part in a mock, whiny voice before quickly snapping back to being serious. "Greatest competitors? Bitch, take a good look at what's inside this ring. *I* am the total - fucking - package!" He begins extending fingers on his free hand, counting off. "I look good - and you can ask any bitch in this arena. I drive a car that your second rate ass probably couldn't afford in a lifetime. Most of all? I am *the* baddest motherfucker in this company! I proved that much to you at Reckoning Day when I stomped your ass into this canvas! BUT! Since you apparently haven't gotten that into your thick, empty skull, let's go ahead and get this shit underway! I even lined up some chairs for your little circle jerk party so they can have front row seats to the ass whuppin' I'm about to put on you!" Tossing the mic over his shoulder and outside the ring, Nico hunches down, ready and waiting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The match between Tyson Law and Nico Salvatore was nothing short of a bitter, and brutal grudge match. The match started, literally, as soon as Tyson entered the ring and Nico rushed him into a corner and began raining down blows.
Once the referee was able to get control of the match, the two began a back and forth contest, very akin to their match at Reckoning Day. Both men showing their impressive skill and technique inside a wrestling ring while Max LeBrun, Candi Broduer and Julian Morrisson watched from outside of the ring -- though, obviously not in the chairs Nico set out for them. At about ten minutes into the match, Tyson Law went for the Lawbreaker on Nico, but the man managed to evade by ducking underneath and Law ended up clobbering the referee, instead.
Immediately, Nico whipped Tyson around and landed a kick to the midsection before hoisting him up and drilling him with the To The Gods. As he held Tyson down for the pin, however, the referee was unresponsive and couldn't make the count. As Nico got to his feet and moved to revive the ref, Max LeBrun hastily slid into the ring and spun Nico around, kicking him below the belt and planting him with The Anuerysm right in the center of the ring.
Hanson: "Oh COME ON!!! Goddamn it!!"
Reynolds: "That's how you look out for your boy, Nicky!"
Hanson: "No, that's how you cheat to win, Jim!"
As Max LeBrun moved to shake the ref awake, Tyson Law managed to crawl over and cover Nico Salvatore for the pinfall victory at 14:09.
Following the arrival of Clarence Fletcher Townsend and Victoria Emmerson, we are treated to the intro to the show. After the opening pyro, we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds as the crowd roars throughout the ringside area; thousands in attendance, ready and rearing to go for tonight.
Hanson: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! We are LIVE in the Big Easy!"
Reynolds: "New-Fuckin-Orleans baby!!!"
Hanson: "And THIS is N--F--W!!"
Reynolds: "NEW--FRONTIER--FUCKIN--WRESTLING BABY!"
Hanson: "Will you stop that?"
Reynolds: "Stop what?"
Hanson: "What you're doing, just now."
Reynolds: "Commentating?"
Hanson: *we hear him give a groaning sigh* "It's gonna be a long night. At least I'm confident that tonight's line up will be enough to keep me distracted from my obnoxious colleague over here."
Reynolds: "Hey, Nicky."
Hanson: "What, Jim?"
Reynolds: "LET'S CALL SOME FUCKIN' WRESTLING, BABY!!"
Hanson: "Someone please, shoot me...."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the first match of the night, Clarence Fletcher Townsend defeated Matt Klazzic in 15:10 after slipping out of a suplex and shocking everyone -- Klazzic included -- with a sudden superkick that spun Matt around with his back to Townsend. Townsend immediately grabbed him around the neck and landed a rolling cutter which he called the Bad Trade before scoring the pinfall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We close in on the locker room area and the camera zooms in on the hallway where we see a locker room door open and its Ryan Steele on the phone.
"Now you guys get the point... i wanna do the open house next week".. "uh-huh... yea.. i know.. ive been trying to help with some of the work myself... thats labor cost you guys dont gave to do..." as Ryan is talking.. we do not hear eho is on the other end of the line... as the conversation continues " You guys got 7 days to finish".... as he hangs up the phone he turns to the camera....
"Hi NFW Universe.. My name is Ryan Steele... "Youve probably overheard some of the conversations ive been having on the phone... Well its because ive been work ridiculously hard to try to bring you something that no other superstar is willing to do...." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a paper...as he continues to talk ..." Yes.. If time willing... The project is still in its finishing stages and i would like to do a open house but ill get the details later on that... but its The Steele Training Facility and Program.. this is for would be wrestling superstars that would like a chance to see what they have.. or for anyone that wants to see behind the scenes of a wrestling show....its being facilitated behind my house in Ohio...when i get all the details i will give them to you....
Good Day"... camera backs away and the locker room door closes as well as the scene.....
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Doomsday defeated Satoru Shade III by pinfall in 4:08 after virtually squashing him for the entirety of the match, to the point that even the referee looked uncomfortable even being in the same ring with the larger man. When the Dominion of Pain's monster was, more or less, finished picking his opponent apart, he stepped back to let Shade climb to his feet only to run and hit him with a vicious Spear. Then, to the delight of the old school fans in the audience, he finished him off with his classic Mushroom Cloud, spinning powerbomb, planting a foot on Shade's chest as the referee counted.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera cuts to backstage where we see Max LeBrun walking through the hallway as the fans, watching on the tron from the arena, boo and jeer at the mere sight of the man. For the second time, we get a look at the changed man he has become. The upper right of his face scarred horribly from the infamous Inferno Match he suffered in during early in his career. While still categorized as a junior heavyweight, his stature has filled out more from the scrawny rookie to a well toned veteran with just over ten years of experience under his belt. Dressed in blue jeans, a brown leather jacket and a black t-shirt with converse sneakers, the man comes to a locker room door bearing, simply, the ‘R’ for the Renegades on it.
Stepping into the locker room, he comes upon the rest of the newly formed group. The man immediately moving to greet his co-founder, with a clasp of hands and a brotherly embrace. “And how’re the new generation of top athletes feeling tonight?” His question being directed mostly to Candi Broduer and Tyson Law - the two that have matches that night. “Ready to open some eyes and wake some bitches up?”
Tyson rolled his eyes and laughed, clapping Max on the back. Wearing a black leather jacket over a Black Label Society tee and faded jeans, he looked far more relaxed now that he wasn't trying to be a white-bread 'good-guy'. "Goddamn right. Privileged motherfuckers are given everything, then they have the nerve to act like they had to fight for it all. Out with the old, in with the new, my friend. Time to tear this bitch down."
Candi just grinned, taping her fists tightly. She'd been changed on many levels by the tragedy that altered her career path, and the once hyper, excited young girl was now a bitter, quiet woman. "I get to fire a shot tonight.... this bitch is the epitome of what I hate - she's here because Mommy and Daddy are famous. So I'll give Mommy and Daddy something to think about when I snap their little girl's neck with the Crossface tonight."
Max nodded, bearing a smirk that was cold and calculated - much unlike what he had been known for in his previous N*FW tenure. “I want you both to remember, when you go out there tonight, this is *your* moment! Both of you are up against a couple of spoon fed nobodies who are riding on the coat tails of their family members before them. They don’t have the drive you do. They aren’t hungry like you two! Us?” He gestured between himself and Julian Morrison. “We see the difference between those who deserve it and those who just got a free pass. That’s what separates *us*...” He gestures to the four of them as a whole, “...from *them*.” And points off to the side, indicating the rest of the roster in the building.
Max, then, steps over to where Candi is standing and looks her over. Most of his focus on her back before his cold gaze softens - if only just a little - as he offers her a warm smile in spite of the minor deformation his face has suffered. That which he partially conceals under his jaw length black hair. “How’s your back, candy cane?”
Candi looked up at Max, the closest thing to a soft smile she was still capable of coming over her. He knew what she'd suffered. The loss that nobody talked about. That was only spoken of in hushed whispers. He was there with her when it all happened. "It's fine. I'm a fast healer, you know that. I'm ready to move past that, now that I have real focus."
Max’s warmth turns to cold satisfaction at the change and determination in her attitude. An arm going around her shoulders as he turns towards the camera. “You see, N*FW? This is what real support is. This is what real respect is! This - *we* - are the faces of true determination.” Again, he gestures to the four of them. “The medical team, I bet, would have liked to keep my girl here out of the ring because of a flesh wound. Booking would have probably stuck Tyson against the no names and let the ‘second gens’ climb the ladder of success.” He shakes his head. “Not while we’re here. Not while the Renegades are still walking through your venues. *We* are a true team...*we* are what a real family looks like. And before you know it?” He cracks a cold grin. “This happy little family is gonna snatch up all of your little prizes. All of your trophies. Your fucking title belts, will - be - OURS! And with the four of us on the same page? There ain’t a damn thing anyone can do about it. Not the House of Payne, not the Dominion, not even the Great...whatever the hell you idiots call yourselves! You creaky old buzzards think you represent Canada? For starters, you’re looking at Canada’s golden children right here!”
He squeezes Candi’s shoulder with the arm around her while his other hand gestures between the two of them. “And you’re looking at the prodigy of professional wrestling right here....” He extends out one arm, the camera panning out to catch all four of them in the shot. After a short pause, Max looks over at Julian and smirks more humorously. “Hey, man, are you gonna say something or just stand there looking like the LeBron signed with the Lakers again?”
Julian just raised an eyebrow, flipping the middle finger to Max affectionately. "Motherfucker.... I hate the dude but at least we'd finally win some games again. And I ain't got much to say, to be honest. Only guy in this place that ever gave two shits about trying to help me succeed was Judas, which is why he's not on my hitlist. Everyone else though? Fuck 'em all."
Candi smirked at Julian, shaking her head. "Such a chatterbox..." She teased, before Tyson waked over, draping his arms over the shoulders of both men. "Enough talk. I'm ready to go out there and show Salvatore what happens when he faces the REAL me. Tonight, Nico.... the LAW.... breaks YOU."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Belphegor retained the N*FW Television Championship by defeating El Piso Mojado in another squash match that lasted all of about 2:00 before delivering a Spear, followed by the Ninth Circle and the pinfall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marissa Payne defeated Candi Broduer by disqualification after Marissa knocked Candi off of the apron and to the outside with a stiff elbow while they were fighting it out on either side of the ropes. While the referee was trying to keep Marissa from exiting the ring so he could start the 10 count, Candi Broduer, more angry than anything, grabbed a steel chair and slid into the ring behind Marissa, *SMACKING* her across the back.
Crowd: "OHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "Oh come on!"
Reynolds: "Yeah! Come on! Give her another!"
Hanson: "That's not what I meant! She needs to put that chair down! What the hell has gotten into Candi Broduer lately?"
Reynolds: "Max LeBrun?"
Hanson: "....You're terrible."
As Marissa Payne was writhing in pain on the mat from the shot, Candi Broduer lifted the chair up, preparing for a second shot. At that moment, however, the crowd gave a sudden pop as Candi turned in time to see Marissa's tag partner, Morgan Payne, blazing a foot trail down the ramp and to the ring. At the exact same time that Morgan came sliding in under the ropes, Candi went rolling out and made a retreat around the ring and up the ramp as Morgan helped Marissa to her feet before calling for a microphone.
Coming to stand back in the center of the ring with her blood sister, Morgan raised the mic to her mouth. "HEY!!!! CANDI!!!"
Reynolds: "She sounds pissed."
Hanson: "Ya think?!"
"HEY, I'M TALKIN T'YOU, BITCH!" Morgan yelled into the mic, coming to stand in front of the ropes and standing up on the bottom one. "Y'GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY HOME GIRL? Y'GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME!" Pushing off of the ropes, she backed up to the center of the ring again. "So how's about you and me mix it up ah-selves, huh? You an' me...one on one...mano y mano or chica y chica...whateva the hell the sayin' is. Let's just fuckin' do this. Next week! At Korakuen Hall!!!"
Reynolds: "Hoooooly shit!"
Hanson: "Looks like we might have an addition to our go-home show, if Mr. Brody approves it!"
Reynolds: "Please do. Then Candi can bust Morgan in the jaw and I won't have to listen to that god awful accent."
Hanson: "Wow...you're just on a roll of being an enormous super dick, tonight."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As we return from the commercial break and Ozzy’s Let Me Hear You Scream fades out, we find the camera following the, clearly recognizable, Women’s Champion. Wearing a sleeveless, Circle of Snakes t-shirt with the end tied up around her midriff and a pair of black, form hugging leather pants with black boots. Over her red and black hair is a Gojira skull cap. We don’t see her face until she reaches a locker room door and turns to where we see the side of her painted up features.
Holding her championship belt by her side in one hand, her other hand comes up in a fist and knocks on the door she stopped at. “Oh little mooouuuuse?” She calls teasingly in a tone she only ever used towards Mia Hayashi. “You’re not hiding from me are you?” She says, opening the door before anyone can answer and practically lets herself in, scanning the room for the Circle’s “honorary member.”
Mia was indeed in there, dressed in a Gwenpool costume, sans mask, and playing her 3DS. She looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"Sup, A? Look.... first of all: I'm not hiding. I'm done. There's a big damn difference. You saw how Abaddon acted last week. If you wanna be a psycho's punching bag, more power to you. But me? Yeah, no thanks. I'm done. Me and you are still cool. And I always got your back. But you can tell shithead that I'm all set.
And second... before you bother even trying... nope. Still not gonna fuck you."
Like a stalking predator...or something out of a weird horror movie...Apocalypta was in front of Mia, squatting down so that she was right up in the girl’s face. “Now now...who said anything about *you* fucking *me*?” Tilting her head, she gave Mia’s outfit a careful once over. “Besides....kinda mean of you to say something like that, dressed in something like this.” In an instance that would have probably landed her with a harassment charge with anyone else, Apocalypta brushed two fingers over one of Mia’s bare thighs.
Suddenly then, as if a switch went off in her head, Apocalypta rose up and turned to sit down beside her ally. “I’m starting to think you *are* teasing me on purpose.” She grinned, eerie as always with her makeup and eyes as she leaned over just enough to see the screen of the 3DS. “Whatcha playin’?”
Mia just blinked at the other woman, in disbelief, before saying in an entirely deadpan tone: ".....fuck my LIFE, woman! Do you want a restraining order? Cos this is how you get a restraining order." She sighed, shaking her head. "I adore you, babe. I do. But right now? I'm focused on nothing but my career." She paused then, pursing her lips in deep thought. "Unless at the PPV I somehow have a shot with Miho. Not gonna lie, I'd run over a family of five for six minutes alone with that woman."
Changing the subject then, she held her 3DS out to her friend(?), giving a little shrug. "Pokemon UltraSun. I think I'm a Pokemon hoarder or something. Like, I'll catch a damn Magikarp, but then when I find another one five minutes late, I'll catch that one too, cos I sit there thinking 'but what if this one is better than the one I caught five minutes ago...', you know? It's hard being OCD and a pokemon fan."
It was almost funny to see the, otherwise, intimidating woman of the Circle of Snakes get a look on her face at Mia’s Miho comment as if to ask ‘what am I, chopped liver?’ Deciding not to dwell, though, she looked at the screen of the 3DS. “Can’t you grind the weaker one up to empower the stronger one like on Pokemon Go?” She didn’t know. She wasn’t much of a Pokemon gamer. Instead, she backtracked to Mia’s remark about Abaddon.
“Look, about Abaddon....” She wasn’t sure what to say, really, in the man’s defense. “...We’re all a little on edge with the Dominion breathing down our necks. It’s bad enough that, yes, I’ve never seen the master so riled up about anything. And with those bastards starting to make their move, that’s mainly why I came looking for you. They know you’ve been with us. *Lara* knows you’ve been with us....” There was something in her body language and even somewhat visible on her face under that terrifying face paint. “I, for one, will be damned if I’m gonna see them make a target out of you. They can fuck with us all they want. They can fuck with *me* all they want. But they’d be smart not to even look at you wrong.”
"D'awwwwww." Mia coo'ed with a laugh, poking Apocalypta gently in the chest. "Lookit that...turns out there *is* a heart in there. Seriously though. I.... don't think I got anything else to worry about. Lara already beat me bloody and, admittedly, beat me handily. In case you haven't noticed, while they're trying to make the whole group lose... the only one they keep targeting with violence is the dumbass that got you all in this position to begin with. We were out of line, yeah. But Abaddon took that shit next-level. And they aren't gonna stop until they wipe him out. C'mon, A... you of ALL people should know what they're capable of! Walk away from that psycho before it's too late."
For a moment, it looked like there was some inner turmoil going on with the champion. At Mia’s joke of a heart, Apocalypta even lifted a hand up to where the girl poked as if to check and see if she actually *did* feel a beat. That hand clenched into a fist, though as she lowered it into her lap over the title that laid over her knees.
Apocalypta looked down at the center plate of her belt and slowly shook her head. “I can’t.... If it weren’t for Abaddon, I probably would have never made it this far. He took me in when everyone else I gave a damn about abandoned me....” She lifted her head again to look at Mia. “That...and Blackheart hasn’t paid nearly enough for what she’s done. I could care less about what Judas Lasher and the others getting involved. But she made it personal...when she let da—...when she let my *father* get involved! That old, twisted Aleister Crowley wanna be can take his ‘once a monster, always a monster’ crap and choke on it! My father retired for a reason. So if the little sweetheart wants to play rough? I’ll play her little game...and she’ll regret ever deciding to push me.”
"If you need me, I'll be there. I mean that." Mia said with a drawn-out sigh, before setting her game aside. "But I'm out, as far as this war is concerned. Lara was right: I *am* selfish. And I did throw our entire friendship away just to get ahead. But I also made it way more personal than I feel comfortable with. I paid the price, and I'm done." And just when it seemed Mia might be completely serious for once, "Plus, Lara still has my favorite Spongebob shirt, and I'm hoping if I back off she'll still give it back."
Mia’s return to her cute behavior was like another switch being flipped in Apocalypta and the woman moved out of her seat and leaned right towards the smaller woman with her hands on either side of her on the bench with her face *extremely* close to hers.
“Well...it’s good to know I still have you to turn to, if necessary.” Her black painted lips peeled back into an eerily seductive grin. “I better go check in with the others. You know where I’m staying, too...if you decide you want some company.”
One hand came up and tilted Mia’s chin up with just one finger. “Bye for now...little mouse....” She added, before letting Mia’s chin go as she backed slowly out of frame as the shot faded out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera opens on a pair of taped up hands pulling the lid off of Copenhagen Wintergreen Long Cut dipping tobacco. One hand pinches out a large wad between the thumb and the fore and middle fingers. The camera follows the hand up as it lifts the tobacco up and stuffs it into the bottom lip of Teddy Morse; an Operation Iraqi Freedom Veteran cap on his head. With a visible wad inside his mouth, he smirks and covers the can of dip with the lid again. "Goddamn, shun!" He exclaims happily, his speech slightly inhibited by the wad in his mouth. "Feelsh good t'be back on live TV again! Them housh shows were borin' me t'tearsh!" Panning back, we see he's dressed in his gear with a sleeveless black t-shirt that says 'Southern 'Till The Day I Die' on the front in red, white and blue letters with the Rebel flag behind it.
From the side, his tag team partner, Chase Evans steps into frame, just then finishing up with taping his own hands. "What are you whining about? We got mad pops at every venue. How're you gonna get bored with reactions like that?"
Teddy shrugs his shoulders and stuffs his can of dip back into his duffle bag beside his feet as he sits on the bench inside their locker room. "Yeah, man, but c'mon. You mean t'tell me that goin' up against a bunch of rookie enhancement talent didn't make ya feel a little...whatsh the word?"
Chase frowns, suspiciously. "You're not saying it felt like we were underused, are ya?"
Teddy's eyes go wide as he snaps his fingers and points at his partner and friend. "Thatsh it! Underused!"
Chase rolls his eyes. "Teddy, c'mon, man. You remember what Mr. Brody told us? He handpicked us -- *clap* hand *clap* picked *clap* us -- to test out the newblood! You should feel priviledged that he chose us for that. Said he felt like they could learn something from us."
Teddy frowns, almost more like a comical pout as he hangs his head. "I know bro, but...sheeyut, we missed the first pay-per-view. The FIRST pay-per-view! That was a big moment for NFW!"
Chase sits down beside his partner and claps a large hand on his shoulder. "Brother, there's gon' be tons more pay-per-views for us to make it on. Hey, we're back on TV, now! What are we jabberin' on for when we got people all over the world watchin' us?" He grins through his thick beard and nods his head towards the camera on them.
Teddy looks as if he just noticed the camera and grins wide after spitting into an empty water bottle. "Well, hell, that's right! How y'all doin?! Did yew mish us?"
"Them Southern boys're back, baby!" Chase exclaims with Teddy leaning up straight and cocking his head back with a loud "YEE YEE!"
Teddy looks directly at the camera again, leaning forward once more with his arms resting on his knees. "Hey, we may have been out of the spotlight for a bit, but one things fer damn sure, the Rebel Rousers damn sure ain't sufferin' from ring dust. Hell, I--" Teddy stops when he notices Chase looking at him funny. "What?"
"Ring rust." Chase says simply.
Teddy frowns in confusion. "Huh?"
Chase rolls his eyes and sighs. "Ring 'rust'! Not ring dust."
Teddy looks at Chase with a similar expression to the one his friend just gave him. "Nah man. It'sh totally dust."
"Naw, it ain't, man!"
"Dude! Ring rust makesh no damn sensh!" He pauses to spit in the bottle again. "Ring dust. Like y'know. Because a wrassler who's been outta action for awhile needsh t'dust himself off!"
The crowd watching from the arena can be heard laughing as Chase covers his face with his hands and sighs heavily. "Jesus Christ...you dense son of a bitch."
Teddy shrugs his hands out, looking confused and a little offended. "What?"
"RING...RUST!" Chase raises his voice to emphasize. "Like when you leave something out and don't use it for awhile?"
Teddy nods. "Exactly! It gets dushty! It collects dusht!"
"Alright, y'got a point, but it gets rusty, too! Old and rusty!" Chase remarks with an exhausted tone. Beside him, Teddy stops and looks like he's thinking. We can almost see the gears turning in his skull.
Finally, Teddy shakes his head and spits into the bottle again. "I still think it's ring dust, man."
"Fuck me." Chase sighs and throws up his hands in surrender. "Alright! Whatever! Call it what you want, man. Either way---" He looks back at the camera. "As this is our first week back on y'alls big screen, we'd like to extend a message out to our opponents tonight. Buzzsaw and Crimson Sabre---"
"FUCK Y'ALL!" Teddy shouts, pointing at the camera with a comical look of anger on his face and flips the middle finger. "GAWD DAYUM, HOCUS POCUS, HALLOWEEN LOOKIN' MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Chase just stares at him in embarrassment that he actually knows this man sitting beside him. Finally, he looks back at the camera with a look that's almost apologetic and waves a hand dismissively at his partner. "Ignore him. He can be retarded sometimes." Teddy looks at Chase like the man just slapped a beer out of his hand as the bigger of the two continues. "Look, there's no denyin' y'all are a couple o'bad dudes. We used to watch y'all before we got into the business ourselves. Shit, Teddy dressed up as Buzzsaw for Halloween one year. It was fuckin' hilarious!" He says, thumbing to his partner.
Teddy slaps him in the arm, with his eyes going wide. "Shut up, man! That costume was bad as shit!"
Chase nods. "It *was* bad. You spray painted a ski mask and superglued a bunch o'damn thumbtacks on it. Anyway!" Chase gets back on subject before Teddy can respond with a comeback. "We know better than to take y'all lightly. At the same time, we want y'all to know not to take *us* lightly."
"Damn right!" Teddy cuts in as Chase starts wrapping things up.
"Because the Rebel Rousers are back!"
"Thatsh right, baby!" Teddy spits into his bottle.
"We're comin' t'whup some ass!"
"Yessir!"
"And we're gon' raise hell like nobody else can!"
"HEEEEEEEELL YEEEEEEEAAAAAH!!!" Teddy hollers out his signature phrase, taken from their entrance theme.
Chase slaps Teddy in the chest, pumped up. "Let's go, brother!" He stands up off of the bench and steps out of frame as Teddy grabs his throat and begins to gag and cough. It's clear he's choking on the wad of dip he put in earlier. He gets to his feet as Chase calmly comes back into frame with a confused look on his face. Teddy grabs at his throat with one hand while pointing down at his gaping mouth with the other. Calmly, casually, as if nothing's to be concerned about, Chase gives his tag partner a hard slap on the back, causing Teddy to lurch forward and go into a coughing fit as the dip dislodges from his throat and launches out of his mouth.
"Quit dickin' around, man." Chase says before stepping off screen once more.
Gasping as the air flows back into his lunges and his face returns to a normal color, Teddy wipes his mouth. "Whew! Yer a life saver, man!" He calls as he follows after his tag partner.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Buzzsaw and Crimson Sabre defeated the Rebel Rousers after an electric tag team contest that went on for 12:57 when Buzzsaw delivered his finishing snap kick directly to the jaw of Chase Evans, causing the big man to crumple to the mat, allowing him to go for the pinfall while Sabre countered Teddy Morse's attempt to enter the ring by darting across the ring and delivering a Tope Suicida to send him to the floor. After the bell rang, the ring doctor was called in to take a look at Evans when it became clear that he was spitting blood. A quick examination at ring side revealed that the kick from Buzzsaw had knocked out a few of his teeth. Rather than let the pain hinder him, Chase Evans let Teddy Morse help him to his feet as he glared up the ramp at the two Dominion of Pain members with a bloody sneer. Beside him, Teddy Morse could be seen mouthing 'this ain't over!'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cutting from ringside to backstage, we see Commissioner Steven Brody in his office with Amy Connors.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here with N*FW Commissioner, Steven Brody who has some exciting news to share with us about the second, upcoming pay-per-view, When Worlds Collide. Now, we are already well aware of the main event where we will see our N*FW World Heavyweight Champion, Scott Leroux, defend his title against the IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Kazuchika Okada. However...." She says with an excited smile on her face, "Mr. Brody, you said you have some additional news to announce."
Smiling enthusiastically, Steven Brody nods and speaks into the mic. "I do, indeed, Amy. As our fans know, the main event will pit one of our own top talent against the top talent of our partnering brand, New Japan Pro Wrestling. However, in the spirit -- you could say -- of the pay-per-view's name, not only will our World Champion be defending his championship against an outside competitor not contracted with New Frontier Wrestling, but each and every one of our champions will help carry our banner as they defend their titles against other challengers from outside of our brand."
Amy's eyes widen in surprise as her smile grows. "Wow! Now *that* is some amazing news, sir. Can you tell us exactly who those challengers will be?"
With a kind, albeit mischievous smile, Brody chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely could, Amy...but, I won't."
Amy's smile drops, confusion showing on her face. "No? Oh...well...may I ask why?"
Brody laughs good heartedly. "Trust me, Amy. It's nothing against anybody. But! One of the things I always loved about watching professional wrestling when I was growing up was that element of surprise. Those mystery superstars that came in and left us, as viewers, absolutely stunned. The element of surprise. Like I said before, I have full confidence in our roster members that they can meet any challenge thrown at them. So, with that being said, I wanna see our champions staying on their toes because in two weeks...at the Tokyo Dome...only one of our champions knows who it is that's gonna come walking down that ramp to try and take their title. As for the rest of you? I want you to silence all naysayers. I want you to show the world what it really means to be a fighting champion! I want the world to see--" Brody is saying as something off camera catches Amy Connors' attention. She looks up and ahead of her and Brody. Her eyes suddenly go wide and she lets out a blood curdling, terrified scream which causes Brody's head to snap up and see what has her so shook up. While his reaction is much calmer, he's still a little taken aback by the interruption. "Amy, it's fine." He says, resting a hand on her shoulder to help calm her down. "It's alright. We'll...we'll finish this up later." With a nod of dismissal, Amy Connors backs up, never taking her eyes off of the still unseen horror. She takes a wide arc around the room to make her exit as Steven Brody adjusts his tie and looks with mostly annoyance...just a little bit of worry in his eyes...as the Dominion of Pain's Doomsday steps into frame, towering over the Commissioner. "Can I help you with something?"
A low, growl of an exhale comes from Doomsday who's dressed back in his hooded jacket as the camera only gets a back view of him. "We need to talk...." From there, we fade out to a commercial....
*************************************************************
*An old black and white movie showing men 50 feet away from the camera walking into a snow covered firest. The old reel skips in places, every so often there seem to be small jumps in time. The men all carry buckets and appear to be laughing silently as soft music plays. A soothing male voice speaks over the music*
"For years Canadians have ventured into snow covered forests to harvest the sap of the mighty Canadian maple just before the arrival of spring..."
*The old movie is replaced with a modern, colourized shot of a spigot sticking out of a tree, clear liquid dripping into a bucket hanging underneath it*
"This liquid is the main ingredient of the lifeblood of Canadians everywhere, and once processed and sweetened..."
*Dark brown, viscuous liquid pours from a filling machine into five bottles positioned under the nipples of the filler. The bottle fills to the top, the nipples stop pouring, and the five bottles are mechanically whisked away as five new empty bottles replace them and the process continues*
"It is transformed into a part of a healthy breakfast!"
*The camera pans out from a closeup of a plate of pancakes to show a full breakfast, placed perfectly on a beautiful, complimentary table setting. Eggs, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, toast, juice, milk, and three pancakes look good enough to eat*
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Rick Dickulous agrees, that's why he is proud to introduce 'Tree Blood,' his new line of Maple Syrup, being sold exclusively in the NFW online store!"
*Cut to a shot of Rick Dickulous holding a bottle shaped like a giant drop, with red, bleeding letters spelling out the product name, with a white silhouette of Rick's face. The letters make it seem as though his forehead is bleeding. Rick smiles into the camera*
"Tree Blood is the best maple syrup you can buy, guy! Let me show you why!"
*The camera pans out to a table with two stacks of pancakes on two separate plates. In front of one, a sign reading "OTHER GUYS," and one in front of the other with "TREE BLOOD" on it in the product's bleeding font*
"Here we have two stacks of Grandma's buttermilk pancakes. These motherfuckers right here would make a beaver chew it's balls off to get out of a trap just to get the crumbs - no shit, it happened once...followed the trail of blood all the way back to the tough sumbitch's ballsack hangin' there frozen as fuck!"
*An inaudible voice is heard off camera and Rick focuses off to the side, shielding his eyes from the stage lights*
"What? This is supposed to be PG? Fuck that, you definitely got the wrong fuckin' guy to do this shit show.....you want me to keep going?"
*The off camera voice is much more clear this time*
"Rick, kids are supposed to see this and buy your product. That's how this is supposed to work...I mean, you can't drop f-bombs if kids are watching."
"Man, fuck the kids..."
*Rick looks into the camera*
"I mean that totally non sexually....like, they've heard and said worse by now..."
*The camera adjusts, Rick points at the pancakes*
"We doin' this or not, buddy? These pancakes are makin' me hungry as fuck!"
*The off camera voice again audible*
"Just run with it and we'll shoot another one later..."
*Rick picks up the OTHER GUYS syrup and pours it over the pancakes. It seems to be runny, and not as dark as the syrup pouring into the bottles from earlier in the commercial*
"See how this shit just goes everywhere? Like, this syrup is seriously fuckin' the dog in every aspect. It's making a fuckin' great lake on my plate, and that means soggy pancakes. That, my friends, is a travesty."
*Rick picks up the TREE BLOOD bottle and pours it over the other stack of pancakes. It has a reddish tint to it, and while it flows, it is very thick and non viscuous, looking almost like real blood*
"Tree Blood is my jam - literally! See that red colour? Motherfuckin' strawberry JAM, GUY!"
*Rick excitedly dips his finger into the syrup and puts it in his mouth. He loudly cleans his finger and points it at the camera*
"TREE BLOOD, GUY! IT'LL MAKE YOUR BREAKFAST AMAZEBALLS! SORRY, NOT SORRY!"
*Rick shoots finger guns at the camera as the scene fades to black*
*************************************************************
Fading back in from the commercial, Steven Brody paces around his office, sharply waving his hands outward. "No. NO!" He shouts the second, 'no.' "Absolutely not!" He turns, with the camera, towards Doomsday, who has helped himself to sitting in the Commissioner's desk chair with his boots propped up on the desk as he leans back in the chair with his fingers of both hands pressed together in his lap. Brody comes and leans over across the desk with his hands resting upon the surface. A scowl on his face. "Are you out of your mind...?"
Doomsday, remaining silent, looks up from his lap and up at Brody. "Cute...."
"No, I'm serious!" Brody snaps back. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I will *NOT* allow something like that in this promotion! Not while I'm the one in charge!" He slams his hand on the desk.
Slowly and smoothly, Doomsday brings his feet off of the desk and leans forward with his hands folding over the top. With the way Brody is leaning forward, this puts the two face to face, almost nose to nose as the camera pans in to dramatize the moment. "Do you *feel* in charge?"
We can see a bead of sweat slowly run down the side of Steven Brody's scowling face as he is clearly fighting to remain calm and vigilant in the face of the monster before him. "Listen to me...very closely." He says, with a near growl in his own voice. "Lara Blackheart may have convinced me to sign the Dominion of Pain...but I will not let you start calling the shots. You wanna try a mutiny? We can see if you handle legal action as well as you compete in the ring!"
Doomsday scoffs under his mask in amusement. "We wouldn't dream of it. Well...perhaps some might. But all I ask for is this one little thing."
Brody's eyes widen in disbelief. "One little thing?" He pushes off of his desk and rests his hands on his hips. "What you're asking for?! It's abominable! It's reckless! My answer is 'no'! Request denied! You're welcome, sir; now, get out of my office!"
Doomsday gives a dark, ominous chuckle before rising from his seat, once again towering over the owner of the company. "Well...I see you've made your decision. Now let's see how well you stick to your guns, Commissioner...." He steps out from behind the desk and walks passed Brody without another word. The Commissioner turns to watch him go and we pan in on Brody's furious face as we hear the door to his office open and close before fading out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In her locker room, Erin Mercer is dressed and ready to go in a green and black variation of her gear. Almost a clear nod at matching the color theme of her tag team partner for the night. The camera focuses in on her, low from the floor, as the woman is down on the floor, knocking out a set of fast paced, angled pushups - her feet pressed up against the wall, higher than the rest of her. She inhales slowly as she comes down, exhaling sharply as the explodes upwards. Her fiery red hair, currently bunned up to keep it out of her face.
Erin had her pre-match prep, and Kid Cthulu had hers.As Erin did her pushups, the masked girl sat in the corner, an ALPHA CLUB tee over her wrestling gear, flipping through a Deadpool comic. Clearly the girl worked out to have the body she had... but apparently it wasn't right before matches.
"Erin? Are you sure you don't wanna just read something? Laughing before the match will relieve some stress, maybe help you loosen up mentally..."
Erin was silent at first, picking up the pace in her pushups before the final one where she came down slowly, held the pose then sprang up onto her feet, catching her breath. Walking over to take a seat beside her partner, Erin leaned back against the wall. “I like to get the blood pumping before I go out. Helps me stay limber.”
She looked over at Kid Cthulhu and then down at the comic in her hand. “How are you so calm, anyway? We’re not exactly going out for some friendly competition here.” Pausing, she glanced down at the page her partner was on which did cause her to crack a small grin. “Which one’s this one?”
"I stay calm because, if I don't? I spaz out and get all over-hyper, and then I throw up." Cthulu said, that sweet (and somehow familiar) voice sounding almost hilarious coming from beneath such a horrifying mask. "And I'm reading the story where he steals Dracula's bride from him and marries her himself."
The reminder of the comic issue causes Erin to laugh so suddenly, she actually snorts and covers her mouth in sudden surprise (and partial embarrassment), but maintains her light mood. “Dude, that’s like top ten Deadpool issues, of all time! My favorite one, though, is his first time meeting his warped ass clone.” Something suddenly dawns on her as her eyes go wide and she grabs Cthulhu by the arm in excitement. “Hey! You know, I haven’t seen the new movie yet. We should dip out after our match and go catch a late night showing. You down?”
"That sounds awesome! I've seen it but I'd love to see it again, and I won't spoil anything, and...." Cthulu paused, a slightly embarrassed tone to her voice as she timidly asked, ".....do you mind if I wear my mask?"
Erin raised an eyebrow in curiosity, reaching out and playfully flicking the tentacles of the mask so that they swayed some. “Uh...I guess not? Why, you got an older sister that burned down the family funeral home or something?” She asked in a joking tone.
"No, nothing like that..." She hung her head a little in embarrassment. "There's just.... if my identity even accidentally got back to certain people, my career would be toast. So... I kinda can't take any chances."
Erin put her fingers over her mouth then dropped them to her heart. “Oh crap! You owe the mob money, don’t you?!” She laughed and patted the girl’s shoulder. “Kidding. Look, I’m no one to judge. And frankly, with what you’re doing for me? It’s the least I can do. I didn’t ask anybody to back me up with any of this. While I don’t know why you’re doing this, I feel like I’ve watched you enough to know you’re motive is genuine. I’ll be honest, I was a little nervous about going into this alone but I think the two of us can do this. We *need* to do this...for Vin.”
Here, her playful, friendly mood dropped again and the thought of what was at stake seemed to hang over her again like a dark cloud.
"You really care about him.... I can see that. And you seem like a good person. There aren't enough of us here." She explained, pulling her knees to her chest. "I got into this because I love the sport. Because I wanted to be like my hero. Not because I wanted to hurt people or be cruel."
Erin chuckled unsurely. “I try to be. You’re right, though, there’s not enough good people here. I mean, look what we’re up against. Me? I got into this because being the only girl out of four kids, this was how we bonded. Every pay-per-view that aired, every weekly episode of...hell...you name the promotion, we watched it.” She laughs. “I never thought I’d be the one to actually end up taking lessons and making a career out of it. But Vin was the one who really helped me take off. You know, he got into this for the same reason you did. You should watch him in the ring, next time. I mean...after this is all said and done...and the guy remembers what his real drive is. Dude’s entire arsenal is like an homage to the superstars he grew up watching. I bet you two’d get along damn good, matter of fact.”
".......oh my god you're trying to set me up with him." Cthulu snorted adorably, breaking into a giggle fit. "ERIN MERCER, YOU ARE TRYING TO SET ME UP!"
If signs could have magically appeared over one’s head, Erin Mercer probably would have had one that said “GUILTY” flashing in neon lighting. Instead, her expression was enough to give her away. “I AM NOT!!” Bullshit, she wasn’t. “Alright, I might be....” Stop sugar coating. “Fine, I totally am. But hey, that’s on you two!” Even the crowd watching from the ringside area was laughing at the adorableness of both girls.
Once again, Erin turned serious. “Still. Thanks again for being here. To help me...well...help him. I don’t know what it’s gonna take. I don’t know how long we’ll have to push Rosemary and Angel, but it’s clear to me that with those two working together, he’s just their little puppet and I will *not* have that! I will fight them for as long as I can stand on my own two feet. That’s the distance I’m willing to go.”
She watched Kid Cthulhu for a moment, gauging her behavior, it seemed. “Only question I have for you, is....” She raised a hand up. “You fully with me on this?”
"I appreciate the gesture. I do. But there's really... yeah, there's only one guy here I'm kinda stupid for. And don't ask, cos I'm not telling." She got serious again then, listening to Erin finish before nodding confidently. "Fully and completely. Those two are nuts, and I hate seeing good people like you and Vince get crapped on like this. Metaphorically, I mean. Not literally like in those videos Lara put on my laptop when I wasn't looking." After a moment of silence, she added, "Forget I said that. And never speak of it again."
Erin just stared at Kid Cthulhu like she’d watched the girl peel the flesh off of her skull. “...Alright, we’re gonna have to find a theater that serves alcohol. I’m gonna need a beer after hearing that.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Remind me to keep my phone locked if I ever hang out with Lara. Alright then. Enough sitting here and shit talking....” She stopped and sighed. “That was the wrong thing to say.” Just then came a knock on the locker room door. “Mercer! Kid! You’re up!”
She waved her hands, dismissing the words before hopping up onto her feet. “Alright! Ready to do this?”
".....almost." She looked at Erin, realizing that in front of her stood possibly the only person in the locker room with as pure a heart as her own. She could trust this girl, and she knew it deep down. Turning her back to the camera, she quickly pulled up the front of her mask, so that Erin could see her face, before pulling it back down. "That should show you how fully in I am. Do not tell ANYONE."
The last that the camera saw was the wide eyed look of shock on Erin Mercer’s face with a hand coming up over her mouth before the shot abruptly cut to black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In an emotional match that saw Erin Mercer try, throughout, to maintain focus on hers and Kid Cthulhu's opponents and not let herself be distracted by the presence of her once best friend, Vincent Stone, in the opposite corner, the team of underdogs took the fight full steam ahead to the Sisters of Sin - Rosemary and Angel.
At the climax of the 10:28 match, Rosemary countered a wild clothesline from an enraged Erin Mercer and lifted her onto her shoulders, delivering the Red Wedding! However, she failed to see the blind tag by Kid Cthulhu and, as the Hive Mother went for the pinfall on Erin, she came off of the ropes with The Call of Cthulhu and quickly rolled her up for the pinfall victory.
After the bell, once Kid Cthulhu helped Erin Mercer to her feet, the two victors shared a brief celebration before Erin turned to the retreating team of Rosemary, Angel and Vincent Stone. A look of determination came across her face as she made a beeline outside of the ring to grab a microphone before returning to the ring with her entrance jacket in hand.
"HEY!" She called out towards the three. "HEY VIN!" Calling to Stone specifically.
Reynolds: "Uh-oh...."
Hanson: "She's not gonna give up, trying to reach him."
Reynolds: "Might be a lost cause, Nicky."
Hanson: "I'm calling bull on that one!"
Inside the ring, after she'd gotten their attention, Erin Mercer dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out something cupped inside of her hand.
Hanson: "Wait, a minute. What's she got?"
"CATCH!" Erin narrowed her eyes at the Sisters of Sin and Vincent Stone before suddenly tossing the object in her hand over the ropes and having it land on the floor at Stone's feet. Hesitantly, Stone looked down at the object as the camera honed in on him. On the floor was a bracelet made of metallic beads and charms.
Reynolds: "What the hell is that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "I...I don't know...."
Something said that Stone did, however. At least some part of him, however, as he slowly reached down and picked the bracelet up to get a closer look. The longer he looked at it, the man began to wince and shake his head, bringing a hand up to his temple.
Hanson: "Wait. Jim, look. Is he...?"
Clutching the bracelet in his hand, Stone looked up at Erin in the ring with a pained and confused expression. Before he could get a word out, however, Rosemary stepped up and snatched the bracelet out of his hand to look at it. Tilting her head with a demented smile, the Hive Mother wiggled the thing mockingly at Erin before tossing it like a piece of trash back at her and quickly leading Vincent Stone up the ramp as he clutched his head.
Inside the ring, Erin Mercer grabbed the bracelet up, holding it protectively as she watched the trio depart...with a look of slight accomplishment on her face before turning to Kid Cthulhu with a hopeful smile as the shot faded out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Jackyl's "The Lumberjack" blasts over the stadium speakers. Rick Dickulous comes out onto the stage, Silver Mountain Championship slung over his right arm, playing the crowd.*
Hanson: "Here's Rick Dickulous, ladies and gentlemen."
Reynolds: "The crowd loves this guy, they just love him!"
Hanson: "It makes me sick."
On the way to the ring, Rick exchanges high fives with fans, poses for selfies, takes some selfies with fans cameras, etc. He climbs up onto the apron and steps over the ropes, hoisting the belt over his head as the crowd pops. Rick motions to ringside for a microphone*
"What's up, guy?"
*The crowd cheers, Rick motions for quiet*
"So, last week, Kennedy Campbell and I had a little chat, eh? So, I was out fer a rip the other day, smokin' a dart, thinkin' to myself: 'Self, how many clicks until my next oil change, and maybe Kennedy's right.'"
Hanson: "I think that rustbucket he drives needs more than an oil change."
Reynolds: "Maybe he just takes care of things, come on....guy!"
Hanson: "Jesus Christ..."
*Rick slowly walks around the ring as he talks*
"So, here's what I'm gonna do. Shelton Benjamin? Bro, I promised you fist go at this title, guy. And since I don't want to be a bad role model, I'm gonna make sure I keep my word."
"I don't know when Brody wants to schedule it, buddy, but I'm down whenever you are, eh? Just to be clear, I'm not exactly calling you out - I know that's how it sounds...but believe me, that's not what's goin' on here."
*Rick motions to the screen. A clip rolls, showing Rick Dickulous interfering in a match between Shelton and then champion Adam Cole. Rick gyrates his hips as Shelton looks at him totally confused, only to step back into the ring to an Adam Cole superkick and a pin*
"See, Shelton, I know that was my fault, friend. You were on track to win that match, and become the Silver Mountain Champ...but I had other plans, and my plans interfered with yours. I just wanna say, from the bottom of my heart...."
Hanson: "Oh, no....here it comes..."
Reynolds: "He's Canadian, folks...he's about to show his true colours.."
"I'm sorry."
*The crowd goes absolutely insane. Rick attempts to speak over them*
"So, you name the match, Shelton-guy, and Brody can set the date...assuming you're down. No hard feelings, no rivalry...just two kick ass guys putting on a kick ass show for some kick ass fans!"
Hanson: "There he goes again, sucking up to the fans. This guy is atrocious, I tell ya!"
Reynolds: "Why don't you get into the ring and tell him that...buddy!"
Hanson: "Give your head a shake..."
*Rick points up the ramp*
"Connor? Guy? Come on out, I wanna make sure Shelton can use our match as inspiration. Sorry, not sorry."
*Rick tosses the microphone to a stagehand and slides out of the ring, waiting for Connor K's entrance*
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After Connor K made his entrance and the bell rang, the match really didn't get underway at all. About, literally, ten seconds in, Rick Dickulous and Connor K went for the initial lock up when Ghost's "Faith" loudly interrupted the match through the speakers.
Reynolds: "The fuuuuuuuuck?"
Hanson: "DOOMSDAY?!"
Sure enough, both Connor K and Rick Dickulous turned towards the ramp as the music roared on with the darkened lighting giving an eerie effect. Seconds into the real start of the riff, Doomsday appeared on stage, shrouded in his hooded jacket as the 6'10 monster came marching with a purpose down the ramp and towards the ring.
Reynolds: "Nicky, what the hell is he doing out here?"
Hanson: "You're asking me?"
Without any pause or hesitation, Doomsday reached the ring and climbed up onto the apron, entering over the top rope. Only then did his music fade and the lighting return to normal. Here, the referee approached him, inaudibly but visibly telling him to leave the ring to the match could continue. To the shock of all watching, Doomsday grabbed the referee by the back of the head and tossed him through the top and middle ropes like a child, causing the man to tumble to the floor before he turned his attention on the two competitors.
Hanson: "He just tossed the referee like he was nothing! The hell is this guy doing?!"
Reynolds: "I don't know, but I have half a mind to haul ass outta here, if Doomsday's gonna just start throwing motherfuckers."
A few, uncomfortable seconds passed as Doomsday stared Rick and Connor down before he took two slow steps towards them. The first to react was Connor, rushing forward right into the vice grip of Doomsday's hand around his throat. Doomsday paused, forcing him to lean backwards as he loomed over him with cold eyes before hoisting him up with the other hand and delivering a brutal CHOKESLAM!!!!!
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD!!!!!"
Reynolds: "He's gonna feel that one in the morning!"
Hanson: "I still wanna know why Doomsday's doing this!"
Reynolds: "No clue, but now he's looking at Rick!"
With Connor K down, Doomsday slowly turned towards Rick Dickulous, slowly stepping towards him. Rather than back down, the Silver Mountain Champion stepped up to meet the man who matched him in height and the two came nose to nose. The New Orleans crowd went...absolutely...NUTS!!!!
Hanson: "Look at THIS, Jimmy! These guys are nose to nose! Two of the biggest guys in N*FW!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, if they do this here, this entire ring could implode."
Surely enough, though, they did. While Doomsday threw the first punch, Rick blocked the second and began opening up on the Dominion's giant with a vicious array of Krav Maga style strikes. The fans were on their feet as Rick Dickulous began beating Doomsday back into a corner, finally tackling him into it and ramming him with his shoulder over and over until it appeared the man was on uneven footing.
Hanson: "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!! HE'S ROCKED HIM!! RICK DICKULOUS HAS ROCKED DOOMSDAY!! NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE CAN CLAIM THAT ONE!!!"
It was short lived, however, as Rick turned to get the fans riled up even more. Once he turned back towards Doomsday however, the hooded giant came dashing out of the corner with a savage SPEAR, taking Rick right off of his feet and to the mat. Coming up on one knee, Doomsday threw back his hood and let out a terrifying roar as he came to stand over Rick.
Reynolds: "He shouldn't have turned his back on him!"
Hanson: "I won't be surprised if he doesn't have bruised ribs after that one!"
Doomsday wasn't quite done, however, as he reached down to pull Rick Dickulous up and delivered the Fallout just to make sure the job - whatever the job happened to be - was done. Getting to his feet then, Ghost's "Faith" resumed again as Doomsday stood amongst the carnage he wrought.
Hanson: "Jim, what was the point of all of this?!"
Reynolds: "I...I have no idea, Nicky.... For once, even I'm speechless...."
Before leaving the ring, Doomsday stepped right up to the camera in the corner and simply glared through his mask before exiting the ring and departing up the ramp as if nothing had ever happened.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera opened up to the arena as the opening guitar riff of I Prevail's "Come And Get It" started playing over the speakers. As the music foretold, the Urban Gladiator, Nico Salvatore appeared out on the stage in his usual manner. Fired up, but at the same time, showing disdain for the fans. Making his way down to the ring, the man took a last second detour from the steps and began digging underneath the ring.
Hanson: "What is he...?"
Reynolds: "Who knows?"
As his music continued on, Nico proceeded to dig out three folding chairs which he set up beside each other at the end of the ramp before getting into the ring and calling for a mic.
"Cut my fuckin' music!" He snapped into the microphone over the boos of the fans. "Everybody; SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Reynolds: "You heard him people!"
Hanson: "Oh, knock it off."
Pacing back and forth inside the ring, Nico glared up at the ramp with the mic raised to his mouth. "Tyson? I'm gonna make this short and sweet, f'nuc. Shorter than your junk and sweeter than your sister's ass!"
Hanson: "Jesus, Tyson Law may have taken a turn down the wrong path, but why do we let Nico continue to use a mic?"
Reynolds: "Will you shut up and let him talk?"
Inside the ring, Nico came to a halt in the center of the ring, pointing towards the ramp. "You wanna run with a pack of marmalukes, runnin' a train on that two dollar piece of ass that rolls with 'em? Fine by me, paisano. But! One thing I ain't gonna fuckin' stand for is you pulling some backstabbin' shit and just lettin' it fly. Ya see, me? At least *I* got the BALLS to admit to your face that I think you're nothing but a no-talented, punk ass bitch, and that frankly? You an' me'll probably never see eye to eye on anything. I don't need to act like I've had a change of heart, just to get the jump on somebody!" He lowered the mic, taking a moment to compose himself.
"Now...a bunch of these dumbasses here...." He points to the crowd. "They've been blowing up my twitter and my instagram - which ya sister follows me on both, by the way - but they've been blowing my shit up, saying a bunch of crap like 'oh, Nico! What are you gonna do, now? Tyson's got two of the greatest competitors N*FW's ever seen with him!'" He says the last part in a mock, whiny voice before quickly snapping back to being serious. "Greatest competitors? Bitch, take a good look at what's inside this ring. *I* am the total - fucking - package!" He begins extending fingers on his free hand, counting off. "I look good - and you can ask any bitch in this arena. I drive a car that your second rate ass probably couldn't afford in a lifetime. Most of all? I am *the* baddest motherfucker in this company! I proved that much to you at Reckoning Day when I stomped your ass into this canvas! BUT! Since you apparently haven't gotten that into your thick, empty skull, let's go ahead and get this shit underway! I even lined up some chairs for your little circle jerk party so they can have front row seats to the ass whuppin' I'm about to put on you!" Tossing the mic over his shoulder and outside the ring, Nico hunches down, ready and waiting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The match between Tyson Law and Nico Salvatore was nothing short of a bitter, and brutal grudge match. The match started, literally, as soon as Tyson entered the ring and Nico rushed him into a corner and began raining down blows.
Once the referee was able to get control of the match, the two began a back and forth contest, very akin to their match at Reckoning Day. Both men showing their impressive skill and technique inside a wrestling ring while Max LeBrun, Candi Broduer and Julian Morrisson watched from outside of the ring -- though, obviously not in the chairs Nico set out for them. At about ten minutes into the match, Tyson Law went for the Lawbreaker on Nico, but the man managed to evade by ducking underneath and Law ended up clobbering the referee, instead.
Immediately, Nico whipped Tyson around and landed a kick to the midsection before hoisting him up and drilling him with the To The Gods. As he held Tyson down for the pin, however, the referee was unresponsive and couldn't make the count. As Nico got to his feet and moved to revive the ref, Max LeBrun hastily slid into the ring and spun Nico around, kicking him below the belt and planting him with The Anuerysm right in the center of the ring.
Hanson: "Oh COME ON!!! Goddamn it!!"
Reynolds: "That's how you look out for your boy, Nicky!"
Hanson: "No, that's how you cheat to win, Jim!"
As Max LeBrun moved to shake the ref awake, Tyson Law managed to crawl over and cover Nico Salvatore for the pinfall victory at 14:09.
