Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Aug 5, 2018 21:17:14 GMT -8
Following the usual intro with Ozzy's "Let Me Hear You Scream", we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds.
Hanson: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! We are LIVE in Las Vegas, Nevada; set for another episode of New Frontier Wrestling!"
Reynolds: "VIVA LAS VEGAS, BABY!"
Hanson: "God, you are corny."
Reynolds: "Eh, fuck you Nicky."
Hanson: "Right back at ya, partner! Alright, folks! So tonight, we have the first two matches of the opening round for the Mixed Tag Team Championship Tournament! We will see, in our first tournament match, Lara Blackheart and The Crimson Sabre. They'll represent The Dominion of Pain versus Erin Mercer and her longtime friend and tag team partner from the independent circuit, Vincent Stone. Both have blazed their own trail as singles competitors in NFW, but tonight, fans get a peek at their tag team chemistry as they strive to become the inaugural N*FW Mixed Tag Team Championships. AND, in our main event, the second tournament match will feature The Renegades; Max LeBrun and Candi Broduer versus our Commissioner, Steven Brody's very own daughter, Alex Brody--"
Reynolds: "FORMERLY known as...Kid Cthulhu."
Hanson: "--that's right, Jim. They'll face off against her and a tag team partner of her father's own choosing. Now, folks, this is the result of The Renegades revealing the secret that Alex WAS in fact, the masked superstar, Kid Cthulhu. For her own safety, she was promptly fired by Commissioner Brody. However! Consistent teasing and mockery; it pushed her over the edge. She came out later that night to get even with the Renegades and as a result, was the victim of a vicious attack--, just take a look here, everyone."
A quick recap plays of last week when Max LeBrun delivered his signature Slapshot kick to Alex Brody, rendering her unconcious.
Reynolds: "Absolutely disgusting, Nicky. Even I abhor that shit."
Hanson: "You and me both, Jim. But, the lining in the silver cloud was...it got Alex her job back and her father entered her into this tournament. The only thing? We don't know who her tag partner is! SHE doesn't know who her tag partner is! She won't find out until later tonight! So, without further adue, let's get this show started!"
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"Belial... Behemoth... Beelzebub..."
Reynolds: "Aw fuck me. Why is it every time YOU start the show, THESE guys come out?! Next week! I'M starting us off!"
"Asmodeus... Satanas... Lucifer"
Hanson: "Fine by me, Jim. You gonna run to the back again, this time?"
Reynolds: "As long as Doomsday doesn't look at me, I'll be fine."
As Ghost's "Year Zero" began to play, The Dominion of Pain appeared at the top of the ramp. Judas Lasher stood in the front, dressed in a black and red suit, his dreadlocks tied back. At his side stood LeeAnn Viskan, wearing a sleek dress that matched Lasher's suit, except for the small, subtle black and yellow ribbon she had pinned to the waistline.
Behind them stood the massive Doomsday, new TV Champion The Buzzsaw, junior heavyweight legend The Crimson Sabre, and the newest member of the group, Lara Blackheart.
Walking down the ramp together, the group entered the ring, waiting patiently for the crowd to quiet down before giving Judas the microphone.
"Twenty five years. For twenty five long years now, The Dominion of Pain has crushed all who have disrespected us. From the day my brother in darkness Drane Sky formed the group, we've won matches, we've lost matches... but we've ALWAYS destroyed all who deserved it. But never in that quarter century has anyone earned our wrath as badly as this... 'Abaddon'. You see, not only did he take advantage of the clearly fragile state of mind of this man's daughter..." he said, pointing to Doomsday, "But he also maliciously spat upon the memory of our deceased brother, and bullied his young daughter. You, Abaddon, are beyond any redemption. You are beyond the punishment mere defeat brings." For the first time since returning, Lasher's tone changed. Rather than the calm, almost maddeningly low-key drawl of his, his voice was raised, his tone angry, and his demeanor that of a bomb about to explode. "You, you piece of trash, will not be left alone until I have ended your career, your livelihood, and your very life as you know it."
Taking a moment to calm down, he thrust the mic to Doomsday.
Taking the mic from Judas, Doomsday took a moment to look as if he were saying something privately to the man before he turned to the crowd. Towering over the rest of the Dominion of Pain, the giant of a man looked through the eye holes of his mask...looked from under the hood of his jacket, at the crowd. The crowd that cheered even their unorthodox method of doing things. "...For starters...let me get something out of the way...." His growling voice rumbled from under his mask, reverberating throughout the arena like that of a mighty demon. "...RICK!!!" He slowly turned towards the stage. "Judas...and your father...they came to an agreement last week.... But I know, well enough, that you think you still have something to prove. Trust me...you don't." Doomsday paused as the crowd gave a pop in appreciating for the hellacious brawl the two put on last week that only ended when both stables came to pull them apart. "When we first crossed paths, it was nothing personal. We, the Dominion of Pain, have an end goal in mind. Judas here...." He lightly patted Judas on the chest with the back of his hand, "...entrusted me, to make sure things went according to plan. Again, we have our methods...*I*...have *my* methods! So that was nothing personal. Last week...*YOU*...decided to make it personal! You tried...tried and failed. I'm not here to play your little game, boy. If we're gonna cross paths in the future, so be it, but I'm giving you this warning: for now...stay out of it. If you want a grudge to hold against someone...hold it with the Commissioner...because he's the one who's trying to save face and prevent the necessary bloodshed. But until he realizes that he has no choice in the matter...the chaos...will continue. The bloodshed...will continue...the Circle of Snakes will...be...BROKEN!!!!!" The last, shout from the man silences the crowd completely. "And now...Abaddon. I wish I could see your face right now...I wish I could have been there last week...when you watched your insurance policy get wiped out. When your monster became our first victim and got escorted out here like an injured animal. Because THIS man...." He turned and slapped Buzzsaw in the chest, "...is a HUNTER. And he got his kill...and took his trophy. When this is all done and over with? I'm gonna get mine. Mark my words, Judas leads the charge...Judas will be the one to pick you apart but when he's done....? *I* will be the one...to collect...your...*HEAD*!!"
Doomsday paces the ring, feeling his own anger rising. "Now...it's obvious...that single handedly dismantling the roster wasn't getting us anywhere. Most of the people here know, I had to step things up a little. Ever since then, I've had people build up the courage to confront me and ask where my heart was in that moment. Well...Abaddon? This is all on you. *You*...took that heart from me. You...took...*everything* I had left...and there's that infamous little saying that always goes around...a man...with nothing left to lose...is the most dangerous man...you will ever face." Here, Doomsday simply stepped back from the camera and extended his hand with the mic out for the next member of the Dominion who wanted it.
Buzzsaw stepped in, taking the mic from Doomsday. While he rarely, if ever, spoke on-camera, clearly he had something on his mind today. Surprisingly,the voice that came from behind the horned red and black mask was very eloquent and smooth. "A hunter. I like that. Last week, with one precise, bone-shattering kick, I took both the TV Title *and* the undefeated streak of the most feared man in NFW. And for the first time... people in this country sat up and took notice. But before that, when every last one of you were overlooking me... considering me a mid-carder for life... Judas never lost his faith in me. When NFW shut down? Rather than leave me to my fate, he accompanied me to Japan. To Mexico. To Great Britain. He guided me through the biggest, most important matches of my career. And he brought me back to the States as the weapon you saw in this ring last week. And for that, I will be Dominion until the day I day. As the others have said... you hurt one of us? You hurt ALL of us."
Taking a step back, Lara walked over, politely taking the microphone. After such intense words from the others... would we see a darker, more intense side of the young woman here? .......of course not.
"You know.... right before coming out here, I actually thought my ex was hiding in the locker room, waiting to attack me again." Lara said, taking a deep breath before grinning. "Then I realized I just forgot to put my tuna sandwich in the fridge this morning when I was done with it. Oops. Anyway.... while sometimes I think these guys are more emo than the entire My Chemical Romance back catalogue, they ARE right. The Circle dug their own graves here. Buzzy took out the big gun last week. Adrianna knows damn well that LeeAnn's capable of choking out her faster than David Carradine trying to get off. So who's that leave, dude? Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb? They might be a decent team, but do you REALLY think they can protect you from all of us? Tick tock, dude. Time is running OUT. When this is over? Just like I promised you... you are going to rue the day you ever put my father's name on your goddamn LIPS."
"Alright, that's enough." A firm, yet calm voice immediately followed Lara's through the speakers. As a curious commotion began to sound through the audience, the camera angle cut over to the stage where Commissioner Steven Brody came walking out with a microphone in hand. The look on his face was somber at best. Filled with worry and regret. "All of you just...that's enough." He said, raising a hand up in front of him, signifying for them to just stop. "I bought the stocks to this company...and I rebuilt it from the ground up because of the memories I had as a fan, watching people in that ring, put on the best damn matches I'd ever seen. I never intended for mindless bloodshed or other people to get caught up as collateral damage, but over the past weeks, that's just what's been happening. And YOU...." He pointed down the ramp and everyone knew he was addressing Doomsday. "You said you were gonna force my hand...I underestimated you. Hell, I even thought you might stop after Rick Dickulous took it upon himself to try and stop you himself, but instead you did the unthinkable and went directly for the throat. *My* throat, more or less."
In the ring, Doomsday nodded matter of factly as he slightly raised his arms in a 'well?' fashion. Brody shook his head slowly and continued. "I want you to know...I'm not doing this because I'm tired of the chaos...tired of the bloodshed. But listening to you guys in the back, it made me realize that...in an odd sort of way...you lot...are a family. You look out...for family. Judas...? Lara...?" He lowered his head but kept his eyes on the ring, "...Doomsday...." He paused. "As a father myself, I can only imagine what you're going through. I don't know how I'd handle it if I were in your shoes. So!" He lifted his head and that charismatic energy returned as he looked side to side at the crowd. "With that being said! You people wanna see the Dominion of Pain and the Circle of Snakes finally tear each other apart?" Brody lowered the mic, giving the crowd a chance to react with an excited pop. When he raised the microphone again, he pointed down at the Dominion. "Then here's how it's gonna go: in three weeks from now, we have a special live event show coming up for the end of summer. How many of you old time fans remember...Highway To Hell?!"
At that, the majority of the crowd jumped to their feet, filling the arena with anxious cheers. "So yeah...we're bringing that spectacle back. It's gonna take place in San Jose, California...where it's hot as hell...fitting?" He gave a small shrug. "The finals of the Mixed Tag Team Tournament will also take place there, but! We need a main event, don't we?! So here's what we're gonna do!" He turned to the camera. "Abaddon, I know you're watching in the back. You're probably not gonna like this. Frankly, with all of the crap you've put the daughter of the legend that helped make this company through, call me biased at this point, I don't give a damn. It's gonna be the Circle of Snakes - Abaddon, Chris Wolfe and Tyler Grey, versus the Dominion of Pain - Judas, you pick your two for this." He pointed down at Judas again before continuing. "They'll be main eventing Highway to Hell...in a six man, tornado extreme rules match. BUT! Like I said. I don't want any collateral damage. This is between you...and them! So...the six of you are gonna be locked inside of a steel cell!!" Brody barely had time to get the last word out of his mouth before he was drowned out by another deafening pop by the crowd. Once he finished, he took a quick look around and, deciding he had nothing else to say, looked down the ramp at the Dominion, gesturing to the approving crowd before moving his hands to gesture at the stable in the ring as "Year Zero" picked back up throughout the arena.
Hanson: "YIKES!!"
Reynolds: "A SIX MAN tornado cell match?!"
Hanson: "Reckoning Day may have been over two months ago, Jim, but the Circle of Snakes' day of reckoning may finally be upon them!"
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Scene opens up as we see the arena with excited fans in the arena, then soft classical music plays which as of late is Clerance Fletcher Townsends theme .. and then he makes his entrance to the ramp and stops.... and brings the mic up to his mouth. "Alright, when I started this Million Dollar Challenge...I wanted to give you ingrates a chance at fortune, even though you wouldn't win... but hey.. thats you peoples life in a nutshell right...? Endless circle trying to chase money that way maybe you can take a day off from your miserable job that you love to hate so much.... but that was all taken away wasn't it???"
Hanson: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! We are LIVE in Las Vegas, Nevada; set for another episode of New Frontier Wrestling!"
Reynolds: "VIVA LAS VEGAS, BABY!"
Hanson: "God, you are corny."
Reynolds: "Eh, fuck you Nicky."
Hanson: "Right back at ya, partner! Alright, folks! So tonight, we have the first two matches of the opening round for the Mixed Tag Team Championship Tournament! We will see, in our first tournament match, Lara Blackheart and The Crimson Sabre. They'll represent The Dominion of Pain versus Erin Mercer and her longtime friend and tag team partner from the independent circuit, Vincent Stone. Both have blazed their own trail as singles competitors in NFW, but tonight, fans get a peek at their tag team chemistry as they strive to become the inaugural N*FW Mixed Tag Team Championships. AND, in our main event, the second tournament match will feature The Renegades; Max LeBrun and Candi Broduer versus our Commissioner, Steven Brody's very own daughter, Alex Brody--"
Reynolds: "FORMERLY known as...Kid Cthulhu."
Hanson: "--that's right, Jim. They'll face off against her and a tag team partner of her father's own choosing. Now, folks, this is the result of The Renegades revealing the secret that Alex WAS in fact, the masked superstar, Kid Cthulhu. For her own safety, she was promptly fired by Commissioner Brody. However! Consistent teasing and mockery; it pushed her over the edge. She came out later that night to get even with the Renegades and as a result, was the victim of a vicious attack--, just take a look here, everyone."
A quick recap plays of last week when Max LeBrun delivered his signature Slapshot kick to Alex Brody, rendering her unconcious.
Reynolds: "Absolutely disgusting, Nicky. Even I abhor that shit."
Hanson: "You and me both, Jim. But, the lining in the silver cloud was...it got Alex her job back and her father entered her into this tournament. The only thing? We don't know who her tag partner is! SHE doesn't know who her tag partner is! She won't find out until later tonight! So, without further adue, let's get this show started!"
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"Belial... Behemoth... Beelzebub..."
Reynolds: "Aw fuck me. Why is it every time YOU start the show, THESE guys come out?! Next week! I'M starting us off!"
"Asmodeus... Satanas... Lucifer"
Hanson: "Fine by me, Jim. You gonna run to the back again, this time?"
Reynolds: "As long as Doomsday doesn't look at me, I'll be fine."
As Ghost's "Year Zero" began to play, The Dominion of Pain appeared at the top of the ramp. Judas Lasher stood in the front, dressed in a black and red suit, his dreadlocks tied back. At his side stood LeeAnn Viskan, wearing a sleek dress that matched Lasher's suit, except for the small, subtle black and yellow ribbon she had pinned to the waistline.
Behind them stood the massive Doomsday, new TV Champion The Buzzsaw, junior heavyweight legend The Crimson Sabre, and the newest member of the group, Lara Blackheart.
Walking down the ramp together, the group entered the ring, waiting patiently for the crowd to quiet down before giving Judas the microphone.
"Twenty five years. For twenty five long years now, The Dominion of Pain has crushed all who have disrespected us. From the day my brother in darkness Drane Sky formed the group, we've won matches, we've lost matches... but we've ALWAYS destroyed all who deserved it. But never in that quarter century has anyone earned our wrath as badly as this... 'Abaddon'. You see, not only did he take advantage of the clearly fragile state of mind of this man's daughter..." he said, pointing to Doomsday, "But he also maliciously spat upon the memory of our deceased brother, and bullied his young daughter. You, Abaddon, are beyond any redemption. You are beyond the punishment mere defeat brings." For the first time since returning, Lasher's tone changed. Rather than the calm, almost maddeningly low-key drawl of his, his voice was raised, his tone angry, and his demeanor that of a bomb about to explode. "You, you piece of trash, will not be left alone until I have ended your career, your livelihood, and your very life as you know it."
Taking a moment to calm down, he thrust the mic to Doomsday.
Taking the mic from Judas, Doomsday took a moment to look as if he were saying something privately to the man before he turned to the crowd. Towering over the rest of the Dominion of Pain, the giant of a man looked through the eye holes of his mask...looked from under the hood of his jacket, at the crowd. The crowd that cheered even their unorthodox method of doing things. "...For starters...let me get something out of the way...." His growling voice rumbled from under his mask, reverberating throughout the arena like that of a mighty demon. "...RICK!!!" He slowly turned towards the stage. "Judas...and your father...they came to an agreement last week.... But I know, well enough, that you think you still have something to prove. Trust me...you don't." Doomsday paused as the crowd gave a pop in appreciating for the hellacious brawl the two put on last week that only ended when both stables came to pull them apart. "When we first crossed paths, it was nothing personal. We, the Dominion of Pain, have an end goal in mind. Judas here...." He lightly patted Judas on the chest with the back of his hand, "...entrusted me, to make sure things went according to plan. Again, we have our methods...*I*...have *my* methods! So that was nothing personal. Last week...*YOU*...decided to make it personal! You tried...tried and failed. I'm not here to play your little game, boy. If we're gonna cross paths in the future, so be it, but I'm giving you this warning: for now...stay out of it. If you want a grudge to hold against someone...hold it with the Commissioner...because he's the one who's trying to save face and prevent the necessary bloodshed. But until he realizes that he has no choice in the matter...the chaos...will continue. The bloodshed...will continue...the Circle of Snakes will...be...BROKEN!!!!!" The last, shout from the man silences the crowd completely. "And now...Abaddon. I wish I could see your face right now...I wish I could have been there last week...when you watched your insurance policy get wiped out. When your monster became our first victim and got escorted out here like an injured animal. Because THIS man...." He turned and slapped Buzzsaw in the chest, "...is a HUNTER. And he got his kill...and took his trophy. When this is all done and over with? I'm gonna get mine. Mark my words, Judas leads the charge...Judas will be the one to pick you apart but when he's done....? *I* will be the one...to collect...your...*HEAD*!!"
Doomsday paces the ring, feeling his own anger rising. "Now...it's obvious...that single handedly dismantling the roster wasn't getting us anywhere. Most of the people here know, I had to step things up a little. Ever since then, I've had people build up the courage to confront me and ask where my heart was in that moment. Well...Abaddon? This is all on you. *You*...took that heart from me. You...took...*everything* I had left...and there's that infamous little saying that always goes around...a man...with nothing left to lose...is the most dangerous man...you will ever face." Here, Doomsday simply stepped back from the camera and extended his hand with the mic out for the next member of the Dominion who wanted it.
Buzzsaw stepped in, taking the mic from Doomsday. While he rarely, if ever, spoke on-camera, clearly he had something on his mind today. Surprisingly,the voice that came from behind the horned red and black mask was very eloquent and smooth. "A hunter. I like that. Last week, with one precise, bone-shattering kick, I took both the TV Title *and* the undefeated streak of the most feared man in NFW. And for the first time... people in this country sat up and took notice. But before that, when every last one of you were overlooking me... considering me a mid-carder for life... Judas never lost his faith in me. When NFW shut down? Rather than leave me to my fate, he accompanied me to Japan. To Mexico. To Great Britain. He guided me through the biggest, most important matches of my career. And he brought me back to the States as the weapon you saw in this ring last week. And for that, I will be Dominion until the day I day. As the others have said... you hurt one of us? You hurt ALL of us."
Taking a step back, Lara walked over, politely taking the microphone. After such intense words from the others... would we see a darker, more intense side of the young woman here? .......of course not.
"You know.... right before coming out here, I actually thought my ex was hiding in the locker room, waiting to attack me again." Lara said, taking a deep breath before grinning. "Then I realized I just forgot to put my tuna sandwich in the fridge this morning when I was done with it. Oops. Anyway.... while sometimes I think these guys are more emo than the entire My Chemical Romance back catalogue, they ARE right. The Circle dug their own graves here. Buzzy took out the big gun last week. Adrianna knows damn well that LeeAnn's capable of choking out her faster than David Carradine trying to get off. So who's that leave, dude? Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb? They might be a decent team, but do you REALLY think they can protect you from all of us? Tick tock, dude. Time is running OUT. When this is over? Just like I promised you... you are going to rue the day you ever put my father's name on your goddamn LIPS."
"Alright, that's enough." A firm, yet calm voice immediately followed Lara's through the speakers. As a curious commotion began to sound through the audience, the camera angle cut over to the stage where Commissioner Steven Brody came walking out with a microphone in hand. The look on his face was somber at best. Filled with worry and regret. "All of you just...that's enough." He said, raising a hand up in front of him, signifying for them to just stop. "I bought the stocks to this company...and I rebuilt it from the ground up because of the memories I had as a fan, watching people in that ring, put on the best damn matches I'd ever seen. I never intended for mindless bloodshed or other people to get caught up as collateral damage, but over the past weeks, that's just what's been happening. And YOU...." He pointed down the ramp and everyone knew he was addressing Doomsday. "You said you were gonna force my hand...I underestimated you. Hell, I even thought you might stop after Rick Dickulous took it upon himself to try and stop you himself, but instead you did the unthinkable and went directly for the throat. *My* throat, more or less."
In the ring, Doomsday nodded matter of factly as he slightly raised his arms in a 'well?' fashion. Brody shook his head slowly and continued. "I want you to know...I'm not doing this because I'm tired of the chaos...tired of the bloodshed. But listening to you guys in the back, it made me realize that...in an odd sort of way...you lot...are a family. You look out...for family. Judas...? Lara...?" He lowered his head but kept his eyes on the ring, "...Doomsday...." He paused. "As a father myself, I can only imagine what you're going through. I don't know how I'd handle it if I were in your shoes. So!" He lifted his head and that charismatic energy returned as he looked side to side at the crowd. "With that being said! You people wanna see the Dominion of Pain and the Circle of Snakes finally tear each other apart?" Brody lowered the mic, giving the crowd a chance to react with an excited pop. When he raised the microphone again, he pointed down at the Dominion. "Then here's how it's gonna go: in three weeks from now, we have a special live event show coming up for the end of summer. How many of you old time fans remember...Highway To Hell?!"
At that, the majority of the crowd jumped to their feet, filling the arena with anxious cheers. "So yeah...we're bringing that spectacle back. It's gonna take place in San Jose, California...where it's hot as hell...fitting?" He gave a small shrug. "The finals of the Mixed Tag Team Tournament will also take place there, but! We need a main event, don't we?! So here's what we're gonna do!" He turned to the camera. "Abaddon, I know you're watching in the back. You're probably not gonna like this. Frankly, with all of the crap you've put the daughter of the legend that helped make this company through, call me biased at this point, I don't give a damn. It's gonna be the Circle of Snakes - Abaddon, Chris Wolfe and Tyler Grey, versus the Dominion of Pain - Judas, you pick your two for this." He pointed down at Judas again before continuing. "They'll be main eventing Highway to Hell...in a six man, tornado extreme rules match. BUT! Like I said. I don't want any collateral damage. This is between you...and them! So...the six of you are gonna be locked inside of a steel cell!!" Brody barely had time to get the last word out of his mouth before he was drowned out by another deafening pop by the crowd. Once he finished, he took a quick look around and, deciding he had nothing else to say, looked down the ramp at the Dominion, gesturing to the approving crowd before moving his hands to gesture at the stable in the ring as "Year Zero" picked back up throughout the arena.
Hanson: "YIKES!!"
Reynolds: "A SIX MAN tornado cell match?!"
Hanson: "Reckoning Day may have been over two months ago, Jim, but the Circle of Snakes' day of reckoning may finally be upon them!"
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Scene opens up as we see the arena with excited fans in the arena, then soft classical music plays which as of late is Clerance Fletcher Townsends theme .. and then he makes his entrance to the ramp and stops.... and brings the mic up to his mouth. "Alright, when I started this Million Dollar Challenge...I wanted to give you ingrates a chance at fortune, even though you wouldn't win... but hey.. thats you peoples life in a nutshell right...? Endless circle trying to chase money that way maybe you can take a day off from your miserable job that you love to hate so much.... but that was all taken away wasn't it???"
Victoria Emmerson takes the mic from her man
"You see my man is a very generous one. He was giving you people a chance.. but you didn't wanna take it.... until someone else actually took it." Clarence takes the mic back. "Yes, thats right.. it's why im out here... I want the person who has taken my case... I want him in an actual match... If I win...the challenge stays...if he wins..which for the record he won't, the challenge is off....what do you say Brody? You gonna make this match?. So I can beat the living daylights out of that numbskull...
?"
A brief pause passes before the booing crowd starts cheering as Commissioner Steven Brody comes walking out onto the stage, for the second time that night.
“Clarence?” Brody says into his own mic, not looking amused one bit as he stares down the ramp at Townsend and Victoria. “I understand you’re upset. I do. What happened at When Worlds Collide was completely out of my control.” Brody responds sincerely. “You think I can predict what a man like Toru Yano is gonna do? I can’t. However!” He raises a hand with his index finger extended. “What I *can* predict...is what happens when my employees come in and start making demands of me. Now...I don’t wanna be looked at as the tyrannical commissioner but after last week? Between the Dominion of Pain and the Renegades, I’m in a particularly sour mood. So, I’m not gonna stand out here and negotiate with anybody.”
Brody pauses, staring ahead at CFT. “You want a match with Yano, so bad? I can make it happen. However it can’t be tonight. Yano, you see, who’s contracted with New Japan Pro Wrestling is currently on their annual G1 Climax tour. So! Here’s how this is gonna go: three weeks. You’ve got three weeks to get ready. And then your ass shows up at our summer's end event, Highway To Hell. I assure you, Toru Yano will be there and so will your brief case...while you two face each other in a falls count anywhere match!”
Clarence has the mic (Scoffs).. "What Brody?.. Do I look like an animal...? You are jealous of me Brody.. Because my suit costs more than your paycheck and you are jealous arent you? Just like that Japanese ingrate numbskull... that fact that I have a Rolls Royce and a Ferrari in my garage makes you jealous....but whatever.. yea I'll be at your little match.. Just have a medical service ready for your little buddy because hes gonna need it!!!"
Steven Brody gives a bland, unamused smile. "Glad to hear you're so confident, Clarence. Now, if I'm not mistaken...you still have an open challenge tonight. Good luck." As Brody lowers the mic and begins to walk back behind the curtain, the sound of "Lunatic" fills the arena and the crowd goes wild.
Hanson: "WHOOOAAAA!!!!"
Reynolds: "WELP!! Townsend's got Yano at Highway To Hell but tonight...looks like he's facing one of the man's brothers in arms!"
As this is being said, CHAOS member, Beretta appears out on stage and makes his way to the ring, gesturing to CFT, 'you better forget about Yano for now, and worry about me.'
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In a fast paced match that saw Beretta, as the challenger, dishing out his high flying arsenal against his opponent, CFT demonstrated his own quickness and sharp wit, managing to defeat Beretta with the Bad Trade in 10:04. After the bell, Clarence locked Beretta in the Breaking Wallstreet, keeping him in a painful arch until the referee was finally able to convince him to let up.
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In a brutal match that saw The Rebel Rousers putting up one hell of a fight against a more dangerous force, Judas Lasher and Doomsday of the Dominion of Pain defeated them at 18:10 after Doomsday delivered a vicious SPEAR to Teddy Morse. To the shock of the crowd, Morse - albeit wobbly on his feet - got up almost immediately just in time as Judas Lasher slid back into the ring and delivered a quick and sudden Lucifer's Halo for the pinfall.
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*Rick Dickulous lays on a weight bench as William Mannheim loads plates on either side of a bar*
"So, you mean to tell me they let you wrap a chair in barbed wire, spray paint 'Folding Steel Championship' on it, and beat people with it, guy?"
"Exactly. I think I still have it laying around somewhere...maybe I should bring it out of retirement? I can think of a few people who could use a little facial reconstruction."
*Rick lifts the bar and begins bench press reps. The bar bends slightly as he pushes the bar away from his chest and exhales sharply. As he lowers the bar back to his chest, he inhales*
"I could use that tonight, eh? I mean, me, Nico Salvatore and Tyson Law in a cage? The only advantage I have here is that Nico and The Renegades get along like oil and water, buddy! I mean, at least Nico and I have a little common ground here."
*Mannheim chuckles*
"Yeah, until it's just you and Nico. Then what?"
"Well, then I guess we'll have to throw down. Not exactly my favourite way to deal with the situation..."
"No, but you can't take brownies out to ringside and then have a little tea party to decide a winner.
*Rick laughs*
"Guy, that would be fuckin' eh! I'd take that over throwin' hands any day...I'm curious to see how well Nico handles some of these top notch strains I've been getting sent in the mail! My fans are awesome!"
*Mannheim guides the bar to rest in the cradles of the bench, Rick sits up with a sigh*
"Look, Rick, tonight you gotta ignore who's in the ring with you, just keep on task. You need to get out first to win, fuck everyone else. Leave them wheezing on the mat, and climb your ass out."
*Rick smiles*
"I'm good at climbing...kinda goes with the territory in a logging camp, eh, guy? It'll be like when Michel Michaud got himself stuck up a 60 foot ash and I had to go get him down. Guy was too scared to move on account of the bear makin its way up to get him. So I hoofed that bear in the nads, punched it in the face, and it ran away like a scared bitch! So, basically, I'm treating Tyson Law and Nico Salvatore like the bear...and I gotta get Michel Michaud who's outside the cage...."
*Mannheim shakes his head*
"Look, you justify it however you want. As long as the end result is the same, it doesn't matter!"
*Rick nods*
"Well, at the end of the day, guy, something tells me this is gonna be one hell of a match...and I'm not pulling punches tonight. Sorry, not sorry, guy!"
*Mannheim claps Rick on the back*
"Good to hear, kid. Now go get ready...I gotta look for something...."
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As Shelton Benjamin stood, waiting, in the ring, the lights dimmed down just slightly with white strobes flashing around the stage while Born Of Osiris' "Machine" began to play over the sound system to the arena. Accompanied by the SUZUKI-GUN logo on the tron, shots of a massive figure lifting heavy objects in a form of improvised exercise, in a run down asylum room flashed across the screen. Cutting to the ramp, the camera panned up towards the stage as smoke filled the entry way. As the angle reached the entry way itself, the massive figure of Shelton Benjamin's opponent appeared, slowly stepping into view and pausing to stare down his opponent over in the ring.
In a sort of...updated version of what he was seen in last week, the large man wears his black trunks, pads and boots gear with a sleeveless SUZUKI-GUN t-shirt. His black face mask, now, also sported the stables' kanji writing vertically down one side.
Announcer: "Introducing, his opponent, representing Suzuki-Gun: standing at six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and sixty five pounds. He is....HAAAAAVOOOOOOK!!!!!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, this guy...is...SCARY!! Where does Minoru Suzuki find these guys?!"
Hanson: "I don't know, Jim...I don't think I WANNA know."
Reynolds: "What is it about a guy like this that got Suzuki's attention? That I DO wanna know!"
Hanson: "Same here. I have a feeling we're about to find out...."
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As the bell rang, Shelton Benjamin and Havok met in the center of the ring. The fearless Shelton, stepping right up to his larger opponent and inaudibly sharing some words. Havok just silently stared down at him through the eye holes of his mask with an unhinged, borderline insane look in his eyes. To start the match off, Shelton finished his verbal assault and finally went physical, SLAPPING Havok across his masked face.
Havok responded with a knife edge chop that sent a *SLAP* sound throughout the arena and sent Shelton to the mat.
Hanson: "OHHHH MAN!!!"
Reynolds: "WOW!!"
Hanson: "Shelton just went down like a ton of bricks!!"
Havok pulled Shelton Benjamin to his feet by gripping his head before irish whipping him into the corner, immediately running with him to follow up with a brutal corner-clothesline. Whipping him into the opposite corner, Havok charged right behind Shelton again for something. No one knew what, because as Shelton reached the corner, he managed to stop himself and hop over the ropes, causing Havok to go crashing into the turnbuckle. As the big man stumbled away, Shelton popped up and delivered a sharp kick to the side of his head, staggering him back towards the center of the ring. Once he attempted to springboard back inside, however, Havok caught him right out of the air around his waist and sent him hurdling with that same overhead belly to belly suplex he delivered last week, kipping up to his feet and performing a downward arm flex of his muscles to the crowd, roaring through his mask.
This was the general consensus of the match which saw Shelton Benjamin throw everything he had at Havok from high flying moves to his stiff striking. That which Havok matched, using heavy blows of his own, combined with a mix of surprisingly quick moves himself, sprinting across the ring to perform such moves as flying clotheslines and brutal European uppercuts.
The match came to a close when Shelton Benjamin attempted a springboard clothesline, only to Havok to catch him by the throat with one hand. Staring with those menacing eyes, the big man shook his head, lifting Shelton up as if for a chokeslam but propped him onto his shoulders, DRILLING him down with the Disasterpiece for the pin at 7:12.
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The camera shot opens up on a close up of a heavy bag, hanging from the ceiling. Suddenly a foot, padded with a red kick pad flies into the frame and SMACKS hard into the bag. The bag continues to shake as the camera catches a pair of hands in red, mma gloves pounding into the thick leather. We soon identify the source as being Max LeBrun, taking out some frustration in the Renegade's locker room. Currently dressed in black karate pants, Max unleashes a vicious, brutal assault on the heavy bag before pausing in his workout and catching it to stop it from swinging.
"You know something...?" He lets the bag go and turns around where the camera finds the rest of the Renegades, and starts removing his padded gloves."I've never seen someone...who cared so little for his own kid's well being." He tosses the gloves aside and grabs a bottle of water, taking a sip from it. "Am I the only one?"
There's always Doomsday..." Julian said with a snarky laugh, as Candi Brodeur silently tapes his fists up. "I mean, the big bastard obviously wasn't ever gonna be Father of the Year, but DAMN." Tyson Law, standing just to the side, gave a hilariously surprised wince then, as though he KNEW Julian was digging his own grave here.
Max lurched forward, nearly spitting his water out. “Dude?” He lifted his bottle and pointed that index finger at Julian. “You might win ballsiest superstar of the year, for that one. Then again? I was honestly surprised to hear that he even HAS kids! Like how did that happen? My only guess is he took from Bill Cosby’s bag of tricks.” He muffled a snicker behind another sip of water before shaking his head.
“Alright, real talk here.” He said, setting down his water and pulling the wraps off of his hands that were under his gloves. “J? You got a big one, tonight. Buzzsaw thinks he’s on the start of some midlife comeback just because he caved some gorilla’s face in. You know what to do, there. Ty!” Max turned from Julian to Tyson. “I want you to stick it to Brody, tonight. I can’t help but feel like he’s trying to give us shit with sticking one of us in this. But you know Salvatore better than any of us. And Rick? Fuck him. He ain’t shit. At the end of tonight, The Renegades have not one but TWO titles coming our way. And by the time Highway To Hell is over? Inaugural Mixed Tag Team Champions right here!” He gestured to himself before reaching and giving Candi Broduer a loud smack on the ass, grinning mischievously as he did.
Candi just raised an eyebrow at Max, giving no hint of amusement, other than the fact that she'd have punched anyone ELSE who'd done that right in the face. "Don't worry. This is gonna be a cakewalk. Most of the better people she'd team with are either already in other matches or not even in the building. Daddy's Little Girl doesn't stand a chance. I'm gonna put the crossface on her and not let go until I hear something snap."
"Jesus CHRIST, woman..." Tyson exclaimed, eyes widening at Candi's words. "Who hurt you? Seriously. Because you are seriously deranged." He looked at Max, giving a nod in reference to what the man had told him. "Don't worry about me... I'm good enough at stirring shit that even if they're planning to gang up on me... they'll be at each other's throats within minutes."
Max, however, looked more amused and delighted by Candi’s cold behavior as he grabbed a towel and hung it over the back of his neck. “Nah, Ty, not deranged. Calculated. Ya see, Candi learned everything she knows from the greatest son of a bitch to ever step inside a wrestling ring. He actually a damn about seeing new talent succeed! All you’re gonna see from her is exactly what he’d do in this situation. As for Alex’s partner? I’m gonna send his ass out of here with a concussion just to further get our point across. OR! This is a mixed match, after all. So, Candi just might snap *his* arm!” He remarked, patting Candi’s shoulder and looked at her. “And I may knock some sense into Daddy’s girl so that she reconsiders her life choices as of late.”
"Just remember..." Julian interjected, clearly being the most calm of the group. "She may be an annoying little twat... but she's fast, agile, and has no fear in that ring. NEITHER of you should underestimate her."
Max raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Who’s underestimating? That’s why we’re going in there with absolutely *no* mercy. A lot of those idiots out there probably expect me to be going soft in this tournament. Hell, me and all the other men halves of the teams. If they think that, their exposure to this business is seriously fucking limited. Candi and I have both worked in Japan. Hell, you too Jay.” He gave a light tap to his friend’s chest with the back of his hand. “No underestimating here and aside from little baby Blackheart and her sideshow freak of a partner, we’re probably the only ones who wrestled over there and knows what true mixed tag wrestling is. This is our ballpark. We’re just about to show everyone else how to play the game.”
"That's what I like to hear." Julian said with a slight grin. "Together, we're gonna end everyone who's ever wronged us, my man..."
“Hey....” Max said, taking a more serious and less arrogant tone. The man bumping fists with Julian. “This is *our* time. All of us. We’ve been held back from shots that we’ve earned for too goddamn long. People have only ever looked at us as ‘second rate’ or ‘midcard.’” Max winced. “God, I hate that fucking term!”
He shook his head, waving his hands to keep his cool and looked at the other three again. “Fight for what we believe in, right? Talking and ‘asking nicely’ got us nowhere. We need to do this for us and for anyone else who deserves that opportunity but keeps getting shit on. Speaking of which....” He turned to Tyson. “Where are we on that little project?”
"Don't worry..." Tyson laughed, patting Max on the back confidently. "We got his attention. Hardest part's over. Now it's just a matter of making him see the truth." He looked at Max, pointing at the scars on his body. "And the truth is clear as day. The truth is in the scars you got from Kane." He pointed to Candi, "The scars she got from Rosemary." Then he pointed at Julian. "And the scars he got from Doomsday. The truth is that if you aren't one of the 'chosen ones', all the sacrifice, pain, and suffering in the world isn't gonna get you noticed. The truth is that if you want noticed, you gotta do that shit yourself. And that's what the Renegades are all about."
Max lifted his chin at Tyson, looking at the man as if he was a little surprised...yet appreciative that someone else actually got the point that he was trying to make in the Renegades. "That's *exactly* it, and what the rest of these privileged assholes around us don't get." He low fived Tyson and gave him daps before turning to the camera, making sure he was standing so that the four of them were all in the angle. "You don't make it through a battle without a few scars to tell your story. You do if you're lucky...or if you don't have the guts to really fight for your cause. The Renegades? We'll sacrifice anything and everything to win. All's fair in love and war...and *this*...is *our*...fucking war...." As he finished speaking, he leaned into the camera, raising his fist with his thumb tucked inside of it. Finally, he whispered, "Boom!" As he flicked his thumb out, indicating the pulling of a grenade pin before the shot cut to static.
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The camera opened up to the familiar sight of a pair of tattooed arms as one hand, with tape on the wrist, taped up the right fist. Panning back, the shot revealed, as expected, Nico Salvatore sitting on a bench in the locker room. Sitting silently, the man appeared to be in deep thought until the sound of a knock at his door made him casually look up, passed the camera. “Yo!” He called out, looking back down as he taped his hand.
The door could be heard opening before the camera panned back, revealing none other than N*FW interviewer, Josh Andrews, stepping into frame. “Ummm...excuse me, Nico?” The squirrelly man said, tentatively as Nico slowly looked up at him with a disinterested look in his eyes. Josh Andrews took a deep breath as he stood there, staring down at the man who had more or less been antagonizing him since the rebirth of the brand.
Josh even jumped slightly, as all Nico did was stand up from his seat and look down at the man. “Relax, bro. My mind’s too focused to even fuck with you, right now.”
Josh Andrews’ eyes widened as if the intimidating man had just given him a compliment. “...Really?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Yeah! Really! But I am gonna slap you like a little bitch, if you don’t get to the point! Or did you *wanna*!get smacked around?”
“No no! No....” Josh swallowed nervously. “So....” He trailed off and Nico motioned with his hands, looking impatient at this point. Josh nodded apologetically. “So, no one’s heard from you for awhile! Meanwhile, the Renegades have continued their heinous acts against the superstars whom they claim are just here to hold new and prospective talent back.”
Nico made a ‘pfft’ sound and tore the tape from his wrist and turned back to set it on the locker shelf. “Bro, fuck the Renegades. Don’t get me wrong; I couldn’t care less about the motherfuckers they’re going after. The only grudge I have with them, is that they decided to throw me into the mix because of where I come from. Now, I’ve told them before that I wasn’t gonna take their shit lyin’ down. Sure, I’ve been quiet lately. But you f’nucs think that means you’ve won? You think that means you’ve beaten me?” As he said this, he looked directly into the camera. “Bro, Max...you and your little gaggle of soy boys ain’t beaten shit! You come out to the ring, talkin’ about how you’re the deserving ones who have been wrongfully held back. Meanwhile, I’m out there earnin’ my spot, kicking the shit out of everyone that’s put in front of me! And anytime someone calls you on your shit, you try to take the underhanded route and get rid of them without facin’ them like real competitors. Last week, it was the big commish’s daughter which, hey, I gotta give that girl kudos. Her ass took the licks you gave her and came back swingin’ like a goddamn boss. She doesn’t even know who she’s gotta rely on tonight in this little tag tournament her old man put together but her ass is itchin’ to beat the piss outta all of ya’s. The girl’s got a big heart to go with that tight little ass.”
Josh Andrews’ eyes widened at that last statement as he looked at the camera. Did Nico just say that about the boss’ daughter?!
“What?” Nico stopped to look at him, careless at the fact. “Hey, fuck you, Josh.” Nico remarked, essentially chastising the man’s wimpy reaction.
“Uhh...anyway....” Josh continued. “Moving on...your match tonight. On the topic of the Renegades, you have an unfriendly history with one of your opponents tonight, Tyson Law.”
“Tch! Fuck, Tyson Law.” Nico said, without missing a beat. “I know he thinks he’s got an upper hand going in there because he ain’t the only one I have to worry about. That’s true. He’s not. But! That’s where he keeps fuckin’ up. He thinks I’m worried about anything at all.”
“You’re not the least bit concerned about stepping into that cage with, not only Tyson Law but, the Silver Mountain Champion, Rick Dickulous, as well?”
“Should I be?” Nico said, punching his taped fist into his hand, causing Josh Andrews to jerk a little. “I mean, yeah, Rick’s a big dude. He’s built like a Manhatten skyscraper. But if that’s him, then I’m the one man demolition crew that’s gonna bust his ass down and walk out of here with that strap. Tyson?” He looked to the camera again. “Bitch, you’re just the piece of shit that I’m gonna use as the battering ram. I’ve got more technique than you, I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than you, shit I’ve got more heart than you. And that’s what the Silver Mountain Championship is all about. Fucking heart...and drive! I’ve got more heart and drive than both you and that seven foot burnout molded together. The day I lose clean straight up to either of you is a cold day in hell. Judas Lasher was right about one thing: I have *limitless* potential and neither you two, or any of those other bastards in the locker room have a clue what I’m fully capable of. I’ve only just gotten started in this company but you’s should know that I don’t fuck around when I’m in that ring!” He said, pointing off to the side, gesturing towards the direction of the ringside area. “And I, for damn sure, ain’t gonna be in that cage, twiddlin’ my damn thumbs. There’s a reason they call me the Urban Gladiator. That ring is *MY* arena! *MY* coliseum! You two - Tyson...Rick... - are just the two fodder that I have to cut down to move my way further up the ladder!” Lowering his arm, he turned to Josh Andrews. “We done here?”
Hesitantly, Josh Andrews nodded. “Y-yeah. I guess, so. Yeah.”
“Good. Because now you *are* startin’ to annoy me just by being here.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Get the fuck outta my sight!”
Swallowing nervously again, Josh Andrews turned towards the camera. “Nick. Jim. Back to you!” He said quickly and scurried out of the locker room as the shot cut back to ringside.
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*The scene shifts to another part of the arena where we see Connor K. walking around with purpose, searching for something as he quickly opens and closes doors he comes across before moving forward.*
"Excuse me agent dude, have you seen AKI anywhere?" Connor says as he stops one of the road agents in the back.
"Uhmm, no? Have you checked the locker room area?" the agent says.
"Of course I checked the area. I wouldn't be out here looking for him if that was the case, right? Josh...JOSH...dude!!!" Connor frantically says as he shoves the agent away and quickly heads toward Josh Davidson, going over some notes just outside the interview area.
"Oh hey Connor? What's up? Don't you have a match you should be getting ready for with AKI tonight?" Davidson asks.
"That's just it, man. I haven't seen AKI at all and we have a tag match with TAKA and Sabre Jr. tonight. I want to go over some stuff with him before tonight because that Zack Sabre Jr. is a bad dude, man," Connor says to both Davidson and the road agent who came back into the camera, rubbing the back of his head slowly.
"Well, you can't discount TAKA Michinoku either. He was considered one of the great in-ring workers during his prime," the agent says as Davidson nods in agreement.
"He's got a point there," Davidson adds.
"Yeah, yeah. I've seen it and dude, I don't think he really choppy choppy that dude's pii-pii, ok? Look, I gotta go. If you see AKI, tell him I'm looking for him, ok?" Connor says as he gets leaves.
"Oh, and you know I would NEVER arrive here at the last second for my match. If AKI did that, that would be some fucked up shit right there," Connor adds as he walks away with the camera shifting their focus back to Davidson and agent with incredulous looks on their faces.
"But, that was all he ever...did, right?" Davidson asks the road agent as they both go their separate ways. The camera pans more to the left, and we see AKI standing there, looking in the direction Connor went as the camera fades to black.
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Rick Dickulous retained the Silver Mountain Championship in the triple threat cage match when, after several minutes of all three men fighting it out and obviously vying to achieve victory, Nico Salvatore climbed onto the top turnbuckle to stop Tyson Law from climbing out of the cage, grabbing him around the waist. As the two struggled, Rick Dickulous hurried over and pulled Nico down onto his shoulders, delivering a Tower of Doom powerbomb, which in turn caused Nico to German Suplex Tyson Law from nearly the top of the cage.
As the three struggled to their feet, Rick made it up first, followed soon after by Nico and the two stood in the center of the ring, staring each other down intensely. Rather than continue the fight, however, Nico slowly turned towards Tyson Law, pulling himself up by the ropes. He looked back to Rick Dickulous and nodded casually towards the top of the cage and turned towards Tyson. Hesitating only a moment, mostly out of uncertainty, Rick Dickulous shrugged his shoulders and began climbing the cage wall. By the time Tyson Law turned around from his side of the ring, he found himself face to face, solely with Nico as Rick reached the top and began climbing down on the other side.
Hanson: "Ohhhh my god, Nico just sacrificed his chance at a championship...but now he's got Tyson all to himself with nowhere to run!"
For some reason, something about the look in Nico's eyes seemed to disturb Tyson so much that, rather than come at him, the man hastily turned and tried to scale the cage wall itself. Nico sprung into sudden action, however, and yanked him down, beginning to lay into him with savage chops and elbows. Tyson began fighting back and a post-match brawl was on as Jackyl's "The Lumberjack" played with Rick Dickulous carrying the Silver Mountain Championship up the ramp.
Inside the cage, Tyson and Nico continued to beat the hell out of each other until several referees rushed into the cage through the door and pulled the two men apart.
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*"Real Bone Mother" starts to play in the arena as we see TAKA Michinoku, wearing a black sleeveless shirt saying JUST TAP OUT, leading Zack Sabre Jr. to the ring. Sabre pauses for a moment on the ring apron to bring up the collar on his ring jacket as he steps through the ropes and into the center of the ring. TAKA takes the mic from the ring announcer and signals for the music to stop. Once the music stops, TAKA looks around with a confident smirk on his face as he and Sabre look at each other for a moment and nod confidently to each other.*
"WELLLLLLLLLLCOOOOOMMMEEE TO ZACK...SABRE...TIME!!!" TAKA yells as there's a noticeable mix in crowd reaction, most booing but there's a fair amount of cheering too as both men look at their wrist and check their imaginary watches.
"NFW...LAAAASSS VEEEEEGGGAAASSS...AKI...Connor K... dare ga katsu to omoimasu ka? Naredesu ka? Naredesu ka? Karera ga katsu to omou anata subete no tame ni mōshiwake arimasen. Anata wa kon'ya warui ketsumatsu o eru. Shōsha wa, zakkudoraibā no masutādearu otoko o tokuchō to suru chīmu ni narimasu. Mata, teishutsu no masutādeari, teishutsu o itsu demo doko demo horyū suru koto ga dekiru hito. Sono jiten de, anata ga 1tsu no koto o suru kata ga kantandesu...JUST...TAP...OUT!!!" TAKA says as Sabre unbuttons his jacket and nods confidentally, giving TAKA a fist bump.
"HE...IS...WRESTLING MACHINE. HE...IS...Submission Master. HE...IS...ZSJ. HE...ISSSSSS...ZACK...SABREEEEE...JUUUUUUUNNNNIIIOOORRRRR!!!" TAKA yells into the mic as Sabre continues to stand coolly in the ring.
*Both men turn their attention to the rampway, with Sabre gesturing someone to come forward with his hands.*
"AKI...Connor K...COME ON...OVER....HERE," TAKA says confidently as both men point in front of them.
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Zack Sabre Jr and TAKA Michinoku defeated Connor K and AKI in 11:25 when Sabre forced Connor to tap out to a cross arm bar.
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The scene opens as we are in the backstage area and some distorted voices are heard coming from the hallway.. one of those voices is Ryan Steele although we cant see who hes talking to but things are going somewhat good. According to the tone of the voice... "So Yea man, i can try to say something but dont know what they'll say?"... As Ryan continues....
"But i can try.." The other voice responds "Cool,Man... Ill see you in a bit"
“Ryan?” A female voice calls from offscreen. A few seconds go by and in comes Morgan Payne, skipping into the shot to stand next to Ryan Steele; a happy smile on her face. “Hey!” She says, greeting him with a hug around the neck. “Been lookin’ all ovah f’ya! Wanted t’talk strategy on the tag tourney an’ all that shit.”
She pauses a moment and looks around them. “Babe, were you talkin’ t’someone, just a second ago?”
"Yes i was actually..." Ryan replies. "You are gonna meet my only friend that ive had all my life... Hes on his way here...." Ryan adds.
“Aww, I can’t wait!” Morgan said, excitedly, hugging onto Ryan’s arm. “Buuuut, I wouldn’t call him your *only* friend.” She teased with a grin. “Ya got me, too, ya goofball.” Morgan rested her head against Ryan’s shoulder. “Also, hey. About your match tonight; don’t you and my pops go too HAM on each other, yeah? Just have a good match. That’s all this is.” She said with an almost uncharacteristic look of worry on her face. She obviously didn’t like the idea of her father and boyfriend wrestling against each other, even if it was just a match that the booking team put together for the sheer potential of how entertaining the two men’s respective skills would be against the other.
All of a sudden theres a knocking noise on the door..."Come in" Ryan says... "Hey man...." the other voice says. "Hey whats up buddy?" Ryan asks.... " Whos this little hot thing?" The other voice asks.. " This is my girl Morgan Payne" Ryan says... "Morgan this is my friend S.R.Y " Ryan adds .. "It stands for Sabastian Riley Young.. " Sabastian adds to Ryan's introduction
"Yea , Me and this guy used to rule the indie scene... We've held countless tag titles all over the globe" Ryan says " Too bad that cant happen anywhere else ?" Sabastian adds
Morgan turns to the door as it opens, putting on her best smile to greet Ryan’s friend. “Hey, there! Sup?” She can’t help the blush on her cheeks from the man’s compliment towards her.
In response to the Sebastian’s remark about winning tag titles, Morgan looks back and forth between the two men. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Yins can win more. Hell...there’s always the tag titles...y’know...here.” She points to the ground, indicating right there in N*FW. “I mean...yins’d have t’beat my old man and Uncle D for ‘em. But, I bet it’d be an awesome match!” She looks to Sebastian, specifically, then. “My man here’s a fuckin’ badass in the ring! That must mean you can kick some ass, too, if yins tagged together, yeah?”
"Yea definitely, I was known as "Dangerous" Sabastian Riley Young. I didnt get that name for no reason either..... " Sabastian looks at Morgan while he has his hat on backwards with a hazardous sign with the word "Dangerous" written over top of it.. Sabastian has got his black and yellow hoodie with caution tape printed on it with danger signs in various places.
And a pair of basic blue jeans.. it is not known if he has a shirt underneath the hoodie... "Hey man. Dont you have to get going?" Ryan asks Sabastian.. " No, im not going.. Its why im here... i just gotta call saying that they let me go..." Sabastian says... " Oh, Man im sorry" Ryan adds.... " Hey man, I might be able to pull some strings for you here man..." Ryan replies
"I just dont know what i wanna do now" Sabastian says
Morgan raises her eyebrows in stunned disbelief at Sebastian’s remark. “Dude! Let Ryan help! He can maybe set you up with a sit down with Brody! He’s our big commish! Bring him a tape, ask about a tryout or somethin’! Trust me, he ain’t no Vinny Mac or Bitch-Off. He’ll hook you up, man! Shit, if it helps *I’ll* even vouch for ya. If my man here says you’re the real deal, that’s enough for me.” As she says this, she leans more into Ryan and leans up to place a quick peck on his cheek.
“Babe.” Morgan says, tugging on Ryan’s shirt. “I’mma go run and see if I can’t get a word with the big man, real quick. You and I gotta talk strategy later, though! Muh’fuckin Mixed Tag Team Championships, here we come!” Morgan playfully ‘boops’ Ryan on the nose before dashing off screen. A second later, she reappears and gives Sebastian a quick fist bump. “Nice t’meetcha by the way! Fuckin’ dig the colors!” She pounds her chest a couple times and throws him the ‘peace’ sign before finally hurrying out the door.
"Ok Girl, See ya later Beautiful.... " Ryan says to Morgan. " Hey man, do you wanna come here?, i mean between her and i, we can get you in...." Ryan tells Sabastian... "I just dont know... i mean... we were doing so good on our apart.. And i know you kinda liked the singles success... cause i know i did...." Sabastian says... " Yea i aint gonna lie.. i kinda did.. but imagine man, that combined singles success. What do you think? Ryan asks Sabastian..." Well i guess ill see what your girl does first then i guess ill go from there... maybe the money will be better, cause $100 a week isnt anything at all" Sabastian says
"Well hang here i gotta go to see when my match is... ill chat later man...." Ryan says... " Alright man .... " Sabastian says "Hey Ryan" Sabastian adds..."Yea" Ryan replies... "Thanks" The scene closes as Ryan shuts his locker room door and nods to Sabastian................
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The camera finds Amy Connors standing with the McKeesport Mafia’s “The Punisher” Andrew Payne, in front of an N*FW backdrop. Amy looks radiant as ever while Payne is already in his ring gear, ready for competition.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Amy Connors, here with the one, the only, “The Punisher” Andrew Payne. How are you feeling, tonight, Andrew?” She asks, extending the mic for the man to speak.
“I’m alright, Amy. Thanks for the flashy introduction.” He says in a calm tone, rolling a wrist as part of a light warm up.
“Andrew, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you just a few questions; get your insight on some of the recent goings on here in N*FW.” Amy remarks to which Andrew simply nods, giving her the go ahead. As such, Amy begins. “First off, if it’s alright, let’s start with two weeks ago: Osaka-Jo Hall, our fallout show from When Worlds Collide.”
Andrew gives just the slightest roll of his eyes as Amy speaks.
“You and your tag team partner, Big Daddy Payne, scored an impressive victory against Zack Sabre Jr. and TAKA Michinoku. A record length match. The shortest tag team match ever in N*FW history. But then...as we all saw, you were attacked after the bell. At first, it looked like it was just your opponents from When Worlds Collide, the Killer Elite Squad, but as things played out...more wrestlers joined the fray and it turned out to be an organized attack by none other than Minoru Suzuki and his Suzuki-Gun. Do you...have any idea why that attack took place?” She extends the mic again.
“Listen, Amy.” Andrew says in that usual, cool, calm, calculated tone. “It’s pretty clear, to me, what happened. I don’t imagine everyone in New Japan is happy about the deal between Steve Brody and Harold Meij. But if you have a problem with it, you go talk to the ones responsible. That’s how I look at it. Instead, Minoru Suzuki sends his troops out there then comes out with Paul Heyman - which believe me, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest - talking about how we’re trespassing on their stomping ground. Moving in on their turf. Now D and I, my blood brother from another mother, we signed back with N*FW under the agreement that we wrestle whoever we’re booked against. We got booked to defend our tag team championships against Lance Archer and Davey Boy Smith Jr. Props to ‘em. They put up one hell of a fight. Smith? I see a lot of your old man in you, kid. You beat the hell out of people just as well as he did. But don’t bite off more than you can chew. Suzuki, you made a name for yourself as one of the toughest, meanest sons of bitches in this business. People are genuinely terrified of you. D and I?” He thumbs to himself and then off to the side, indicating the current absent BDP and shakes his head. “We’re not. Hell, frankly, I think it was a smart move, you bringing in that hulking lunatic last week, because I think you knew you needed a little extra insurance after pulling your little stunt in Osaka. If you’re looking for a fight, you know where to find us. All you’ve gotta do is say the word.”
Amy Connors nods and brings back the mic. “Well, it sounds like a challenge has been accepted before it’s even been officially made! However, it would seem as if you and yours aren’t entirely alone in this situation. It *did* seem like you had some help....”
Andrew nods slightly. “Right, right. Connor K and, what’s his name, AKI? It’s like Connor said last week, cliché as it might sound, the enemy of my enemy. So, guys? We may not know each other that well, but rest assured, we’re on the same page. You ran out and stood with us against the odds when you didn’t have to. So just know, the Mafia’s got your backs.”
Smiling, Amy continues. “Next, Andrew, I’d like to get your thoughts on a subject that seems to have everyone here in N*FW buzzing: I’m talking about The Renegades. Now you’re very familiar, of course, with—“
Andrew calmly cuts her off with a raised hand and calls for the mic which she extends back up to him. “I’m gonna say this about The Renegades: you guys better pull your heads out before you go too far. Now, you’re already towing that line after last week. Max? Kid, you have all the makings of a star in this business. D even said as much back when you first started. ‘Future superstar.’ That’s what he called you. It ain’t our fault you haven’t caught your big break yet. Hell, I’ve seen you wrestle. I’m not saying it’s your fault, either. But big breaks aren’t just handed out to people in this business. Pushes aren’t just given to people who feel like they deserve it. You work hard, you bust your ass and you get noticed. Now, there’s a lot of shitty promotors out there who don’t have an eye for proper talent. Maybe that’s the string of luck you ran into. I’d put my money on the fact that if you had come and talked to Steven Brody, he would have found a spot for you. But instead, what do you do? You talk Candi into joining you on your dumb little crusade, you reach out to Julian Morrison, who’s probably one of the most self-centered pieces of shit to ever steal air, and then the two of you, along with Candi, fill Tyson Law’s head with delusions of grandeur that if he follows you around and ‘takes out the veterans and pioneers stealing the spotlight’—“ he makes quotation marks with his fingers, “—that it’ll make him a star and gain respect. Kid, you are treading down the wrong path, and if the four of you keep this up, the only thing it’s gonna end in, for you, is embarrassment and a hell of a lot of pain.”
He raises one wrist, adjusting the strap of his glove as Amy Connors brings the mic back to herself. “Lastly, Andrew, I wanna ask you about your match tonight. You step into the ring with Ryan Steele. He calls himself The Omega. It’s also, obviously, no surprise that he has become...involved, per say...with your daughter, N*FW superstar, Morgan Payne. Do you have any comments to make regarding your opponent?”
Andrew snorts, cracks his neck and lowers his hands. “Look, Amy, I love my daughter. I raised her as a single dad since she was ten years old. As much as I dote on her and like to always look at her as ‘that innocent little girl’, I know, deep down that she’s grown and she can handle herself. She knows what she’s doing and she can make her own decisions. Now, don’t get me wrong; Ryan? I *am* watching you because that’s what fathers do. But as far as tonight? This wasn’t my call. This is how booking lined things up, so let’s make the best of it. You got skills in the ring, kid. You love what you do and you like to get a little rough. You like to fight. I, more than anyone, can respect that. So, tonight? Let’s mix it up a little in the ring. We’ll call it ‘earning her father’s approval’. Meet me in that ring and show me what you’ve got. Man to man.” He raises the back of one hand, thumb and pinky extended.
“Thank you, Andrew. We look forward to your match tonight! Back to you Nick and Jim!” Amy says as Andrew Payne calmly steps away from the backdrop and out of the frame.
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"You know what, Erin?" Alex Brody said as the camera faded in on her, "You know I don't really swear. Or even really say bad things about people, for the most part. But those Renegades? What a bunch of ASSHOLES!" Of course, given the overall niceness she gave off, even in anger, the words sounded almost comically adorable. She had just changed into her ring gear, which was essentially her Kid Cthulu outfit, just without the mask and with light blue replacing the green.
Erin Mercer stood next to where Alex was, with a hand up to her mouth, trying to keep from laughing at the girl's ferocity, or rather, lack thereof. A snicker still escaped, though. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh! But maybe verbally expressing how pissed you are isn't your thing." She went serious then, touching her friend's arm. "I get what you mean, though. Those dickheads are so self entitled, it makes me sick. I mean, if even half of what they were saying was true, I don't think either you or I would be where we're at now? I mean...." She shrugged. "I'm not a second gen wrestler and I get a crack at the psychopath carrying the Women's Championship around. Tonight, *you* get to main event the show in your tag match!" She grabbed Alex by the shoulders. "My homegirl is main eventing!" She shook Alex, playfully before releasing her and looked more inquisitive than anything, next. "That reminds me, has your dad told you who you're teaming up with tonight? I'm all for surprises, but not in situations like this. Nothing against Morgan Payne, but having us just thrown together like that at the last minute without being able to go over a strategy? I feel like that's the most important point in a tag team and that's partly why we got our asses whupped, last week."
"No.... Dad hasn't been really happy with me this last week." Alex said with a sigh, bending down to tie her bootlaces. "He never wanted me to be a wrestler, and so he's obviously kinda upset that I not only went against his wishes, but also lied about it." She paused then, before finally admitting, "Honestly, the Renegades inadvertently saved my career. He really was gonna fire me... but no way was he gonna let them do that to me and not give me the chance to make them pay. So, no, I don't know who he's gonna pick. But I do know he's gonna pick someone that'll be perfect for this match."
Erin touched a knuckle to her chin and nodded. "Yeah, your dad *does* have an eye for talent. NFW's been trending all over since the company resurfaced! I just hope whoever it is is someone you can rely on. Otherwise--" Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. Erin looked over immediately. Could that be them? She looked back at Alex and silently shrugged with a curious look on her face. "Come in! Nobody's naked!" As the sound of the door opening could be heard, Erin's eyes widened. Not so much in shock, but more as in a 'what the hell am I looking at' expression. "Whaaaaat theeee heeeeelll----?"
"WE DON'T GET HYPED!!" A male voice boomed at the top of his lungs. "WE STAAAAY HYPED!!!" With the respective music then coming from a smart phone, Vincent Stone came energetically jumping into frame. In addition to his regular ring gear, he wore -- comically enough -- a bright yellow headband and a sleeveless tie dyed shirt over his normal entrance tee. With a look as if she didn't know whether to laugh or shake her head, Erin buried her face in one hand. "Ohhh my god, Vin. What the HELL are you doing now?" She looked up with a warning in her eyes. "Don't tell me you're trying to reinvent yourself."
Promptly, Stone stops jumping in place and kills the music. "Nah, just felt like fucking around." He said, pulling the headband off and tossing it aside before stripping off the tie dyed Hype Bros t-shirt, revealing his true entrance shirt as one that said 'Hands Of Stone'. Erin rolled her eyes, laughing softly before looking at Alex and shrugging. "Yup. He's back, alright."
"Damn right, I'm back! Ready to rock this tournament tonight, how 'bout you?" He raised a hand. Erin returned the high five. "Damn straight. It's been too long since we've been in the ring together!"
Looking from Erin to Alex, Stone offered the girl a fist bump. "Hey, Alex! Glad to see you got to stick around. Hey, happy birthday by the way."
"Hey, thanks Vince." Alex said, before adding, in that same happy tone, "Oh, by the way: Mojo Rawley called, he wants his old gimmick back." She grinned, her smile so sweet and innocent that only her remarkable figure was a reminder of how old she actually was. "You guys are gonna do great. Not many mixed-gender teams are gonna have the natural chemistry you guys have."
"He can have that shit." Stone said with a smirk, pulling on his black skull cap. "Thanks, Alex. I think chemistry and time together is what makes a tag team. In this case, we might be the only ones out of the eight who have wrestled matches like these before. Not that I'm knocking any of the other teams. Well...except LeBrun and Broduer. Fuck those two."
"Zing!" Erin chimed in. "I was just telling Alex the same thing! Thanks for the backup there." Erin and Stone exchanged a fist bump.
"Well, it's true." He shrugged. "Shit, with that in mind, *you two* make a pretty badass tag team for the women's division, so far! If Commissioner Brody's announced these championships, maybe a women's division isn't too far behind. You girls should totally go for it!"
"Oh, you know it. Team Merlex, baby!!" Erin threw her arm around Alex's shoulders. "Hey! I'm taking my new bgf here out after the show. You should come with!"
"Birthday in Vegas? Hell yeah!" Stone looked at Alex. "You're lucky. My claim to fame on birthday parties was going to cosmic night at a bowling alley where crackheads liked to hang out and try to jimmy rig the arcade machines for drug money."
Erin frowned and looked at him. "Where the hell...?"
"Central Florida." Stone replied simply.
"Ohhh, yeah." Erin nodded, turning back to Alex. "Well, we're in a big city full of big wigs so, we shouldn't run into any of that. But, keep in mind! This is our boss's daughter so we gotta take care of her! No crazy, stupid shit!" She pointed at Vincent Stone with a look that said she was speaking from experience.
Stone scoffed. "Pfft! You forget who you're talking to? We're all gonna kick ass tonight and then Alex? Shots and slots at the fucking Rampart! You down?" He held a hand up high.
Alex laughed and high-fived him, happy to finally feel like she'd made some true friends. "I totally LOVE you guys. Really." She looked back at the camera then, her smile turning into more of a devious smirk. "And Renegades? You guys really thought you were gonna make an example out of me last week. And you know what? You failed. You might've finished off Kid Cthulu... but thanks to you, now it's Alex Brody's time to SHINE. I don't care who my dad sends to the ring tonight. Whether it's Doomsday or Bob the 70-year-old janitor that just cleaned the locker room... the point is that win or lose, I'm taking a piece of BOTH you tonight."
On either side of her, Vincent Stone and Erin Mercer stepped up, laying hands on her shoulders. "You assholes aren't the only ones who stick together." Erin added before Stone chimed in. "I'm normally not much for talking shit. So, for now? We'll see you two in the ring, sooner or later, I think. And as big of bitches that you guys are? Payback's even worse." He gives a confident, determined smirk, raising one of his taped fists under his jaw while Erin gestures between herself and Alex. "*Merlex*...Out!!" With Erin throwing the deuces, the camera shot cuts away.
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Ryan Steele and Andrew Payne, more or less, began their match with fair play with Payne offering a handshake to Steele before the bell and Steele accepting it with a nod.
Hanson: "Sportsmanship, right there! I like it!"
Reynolds: "Now that's how you impress your girl's dad before you fight him!"
Hanson: "Jim...? You normally don't...fight your girlfriend's dad. If you do, there's something wrong."
Reynolds: "Maybe you and I were raised differently."
Hanson: "I was raised by a loving, happy family."
Reynolds: "Don't judge me."
While neither of the two strayed from their normal strategies of incorporating the occasional 'unconventional' trick during the match -- i.e Steele taking shots at the obvious weakened knee of Payne, as made obvious by his knee brace, and Payne being warned by the referee about closed handed fists, the two were putting on a match that had the crowd literally split in cheers for either men.
After Ryan Steele managed to lift Andrew Payne and deliver his signature Fireman's Carry Sideslam, the referee immediately turned in the direction of the ramp.
Hanson: "What the hell? What's Max LeBrun doing out here?!"
Sure enough, Max LeBrun came casually walking down towards the ring with a smug smile on his face. The man pointing towards the inside of the ring and shaking his head to the crowd as he uttered inaudible words if discouragement. The leader of the Renegades went so far as to climb up onto the apron which drew the referee over to begin yelling at him to get down. The commotion even drew Ryan Steele over to ask Max what he was even doing out here. With Ryan and the referee's backs turned, the crowd began to stir as Tyson Law came hopping over the barricade and slid into the ring while Andrew Payne was getting up onto one knee.
Hanson: "HEY!!! HEY!!!! WHAT THE HELL'S TYSON DOING?!?!"
Reynolds: "OH, MAX, THAT SNEAKY SON OF A BITCH!"
Tyson Law grabbed Andrew Payne from behind, clutching one of his wrists where he spun him around and yanked him right back into the LAWBREAKER!!!!!
Hanson: "AND IT'S A LAWBREAKER, BY TYSON!! GODDAMN IT!!!"
Afterwards, Tyson swiftly slid out of the ring and took off through the crowd again. Only then did Max Lebrun finally raise his hands in submission and hop down from the ring apron. We could hear him, just barely, saying 'Okay! I'm going, I'm going!' The referee and Ryan Steele both turned around then to find Andrew Payne struggling even more to get onto his feet. When he finally did, Ryan, oblivious to what just happened, delivered the Chaos Theory to Andrew Payne to score the pinfall at 12:11.
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*In the backstage area, we see Josh Davidson.*
"Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, accompanied by his advocate, Paul Heyman, Minoru Suzuki," Davidson says.
*An audible boo can be heard from the arena crowd as Suzuki steps into the camera area with a towel over his head with Paul Heyman by his side. Before Davidson can start, Heyman puts his hand over the mic and gestures him to step away from the area as he focuses his attention to the camera.*
"Ladies and gentlemen. My name, is Paul Heyman. And I'm here as an advocate for the King of Pro Wrestling, Minoru Suzuki. Now, Mr. Davidson, let's get one thing perfectly straight here. Mr. Suzuki is NOT one to conduct interviews before a match. And I will more than gladly step in and act as his spokesman in his stead. Mr. Satoru Shade III, you came here as a house of fire when you first set foot into NFW. But as of late, we have seen little of that spark that you showed when you came here. You will need to bring more than that if you're to have any chance of surviving your encounter with Minoru Suzuki. Every conquest needs that first step. Mr. Shade, you are that first step. Unfortunately, you will need to be made an example of tonight to the rest of the NFW roster. You are going to be the standard, for which pain thresholds will be reached. For you are not seen as someone who is on the same level as Minoru Suzuki. He does not see you as a peer. He sees you like he sees the young lions around the ring. You want his respect? You come down to the ring and try to beat it out of this man," Heyman says sternly as the camera shifts focus to Suzuki, who still has the towel around his head and ignoring the camera.
"Mr. Davidson, when my client is done dismantling Mr. Shade, you are more than welcome to come to the ring and conduct your proper interview with Mr. Suzuki at that time. Until then, this has been YOUR pleasure," Heyman says as he shoves the mic back into Davidson's hands as he and Suzuki leave the interview area and the camera shifts back to a worried look on Davidson's face.
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As Lara Blackheart and The Crimson Sabre stood in the ring, waiting, the arena was suddenly filled with the sound of Iron Maiden's "The Trooper." Fans who were familiar with the independent circuit gave a nostalgia fueled pop as Erin Mercer and Vincent Stone came, energetically, rushing out onto the stage, firing them up more as they played to the crowd with high energy before meeting in the center and giving each other a triple handslap followed by a fist bump.
"Their opponents! Vincent Stone...Erin Mercer...they are....KICKS -- AND -- STONES!!"
Hanson: "You know, Jim. As a fan of ALL wrestling, I was kinda hoping we would see this! Trust me, it is LONG overdue!"
After the opening lyrics to the song sounded and the guitar tempo picked up, Stone and Mercer hit the ring at a brisk jog, each taking a side of the ramp and high fiving as many fans as they could before coming up onto the apron at opposite sides and simultaneously hopping over the top rope, turning in a full circle until they met in the center to deliver another theatrical fist bump.
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In the opening match for the Mixed Tag Team Tournament, Vincent Stone and Erin Mercer defeated The Crimson Sabre and Lara Blackheart after an electric contest when Stone hit Sabre with the Bootscraper in the corner and rolled him right into a pinfall at 18:40, advancing into the semi-finals.
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Minoru Suzuki made short work of Satoru Shade III, willfully keeping the match going as he pleased simply to torment and dismantle his fellow countryman with some of his signature submission holds before defeating him in 7:02 after rendering him almost completely unconcious with a rear naked chokehold before spinning him around and planting him with the Gotch Style Piledriver, for the pinfall victory.
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The camera cuts to inside the office of Commissioner Steven Brody where he’s in the midst of a conversation with Morgan Payne.
“C’mooooooon!” Morgan says in a begging tone.
Brody rubs the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. This suggests that he and Morgan have been discussing the matter at hand for awhile now and she’s not letting up.
“Morgan, I....” Brody gives a heavy sigh and turns to face her. “You said so yourself, you know nothing about this guy. Other than he’s a friend of Ryan Steele.”
“Yeeeeaaaah. But that’s just it! Ryan vouches for him!” Morgan makes a motion with her hands as if to say, ‘see where I’m going with this?’ “Listen, Steve-o.” Morgan saunters up and rests a forearm on the man’s shoulder. “Can I call ya, Steve-o?”
“I’d rather you didn’t actually.” Brody says firmly.
Morgan frowns adorably. “Fine. Brodeezy, listen.”
Steven Brody just stares at the young woman without the slightest amusement.
Morgan blinks. “Brodizzle?”
Brody stares, growing more annoyed.
“Brosephus?”
Still nothing.
“Steve-meister!”
Even still...nothing, from Brody. Morgan drops her arm off of his shoulder and sags her shoulders, rolling her eyes. “Cheese and crackers, gag me and fuck me jackhammer style, you are BORING!”
Steven Brody looks half confused and half mortified by what she just said. Morgan continues. “Mister B.” She pauses. “Mr. Brody. Look. You have faith in everyone you sign, right? I mean, you signed the Dominion!”
Brody raises his eyebrows and responds in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. “Technically, the Dominion of Pain are free agents. It’s one loop hole I got suckered into and henceforth, why I can’t really punish them for anything they do.”
Morgan lifted her head and touched her chin, then snapped her fingers. “Arright. Ya got me there.” She sighs, then and looks up at the Commissioner. “Look, okay? Ryan used to tag with this dude in the indies. They pulled more tag titles than Ron Jeremy pulls pu—“
“Alright! Alright!” Brody shoots up his hands, cutting her off. “Ryan vouches for this guy?”
Morgan gives a big nod. “Yup!”
Brody nods back, pointing a finger in her face. “And you, someone whom your father vouched for, trust Ryan Steele?”
Morgan gives another big nod. “Yuuuuuuup!”
Brody lowers his finger and sighs...then nods. “Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Next week? This guy...what’s his name?”
“Sebastian Riley Young.” Morgan affirms, before raising an index finger. “DANGEROUS...Sebastian Riley Y—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay.” Brody hurries along. “I’ll have Sebastian Young set up for a match next week, to show what he can do. I expect him to put it all out there just like everyone who wrestles under our banner. Fair enough?”
Morgan clasps her gloved hands together with a leather smack. “Thank you, Mr. B! I totally owe you a blowie for this!” She catches herself. “Whoa. I meant...not from *me*, exactly! My mouth is spoken for. But I’ll definitely buy you a hummer! Next time we tour through Pittsburgh, I know this girl named Sherry, from high school. She dances at this place called the Kitten Candy Club and man she will suck you—“
“He’s getting his match! Just get the hell out of my office!” Brody snaps in annoyance, sending Morgan hurrying off screen and out of his office.
“Good deal! Thanks, dude!” Morgan calls as she leaves, closing the door behind herself.
The camera focuses in on a mentally exhausted Steven Brody as he loosens his tie and yanks it off to open the collar of his shirt. “I’m gonna take up drinking at this rate....” He sighs, as the camera fades to black.
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The Buzzsaw defeated Julian Morrison by submission after administering the DNR, at 8:09 to retain the N*FW Television Championship.
After the match, without so much as his music playing, a wild commotion came from the crowd as "The Mangler" William Mannheim came walking from backstage and made his way down the ramp. The major focus, however, was on what he was carrying in his hand.
Reynolds: "Nicky...?"
Hanson: "...Yeah, Jim?"
Reynolds: "What the HELL is THAT?!?!?!"
The cameraman tried his best to get a shot of the object Mannheim was carrying. It just happened to be what he described to Rick Dickulous earlier: a steel folding chair, wrapped in barbed wire with the words 'FOLDING STEEL CHAMPIONSHIP' spray painted in red on both sides.
Hanson: "Ohhhh my god, you know damn well what that is! My question is, what the hell is he doing with it?!?!?!"
Reynolds: "He's heading towards the ring with it! But who's he after?!"
William Mannheim reached the ring and calmly entered, stopping to have a stare down with The Buzzsaw who stood with his title in hand, looking at the chair, silently. To the side, Julian Morrison began getting to his feet as Mannheim slowly walked towards Buzzsaw with the wire wrapped chair in hand. Buzzsaw looked ready to go one more round for the night when Mannheim suddenly turned and CRACKED Julian over the head with the chair!
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "MYYY GOD!!!"
Reynolds: "HOOOOLY SHIT!!!"
Hanson: "He just hit Julian Morrison with that...THING...like it was nobody's business!!"
Seeing this, The Buzzsaw simply exited the ring and took his leave as Mannheim began to rain down shots with his improvised weapon on Julian Morrison, getting in about four or five good strikes in before the referee built up the courage to come in and stand between the two.
Reynolds: "This has to be payback for last week!!"
Hanson: "Julian's face is a mask of BLOOD, Jimmy!!"
Seemingly satisfied with his work, Mannheim backed off from the ref, exiting the ring and slowly back pedaling up the ramp.
"YOU WANNA PLAY WITH THE BIG BOYS?!" Mannheim yelled towards the ring. "GO BIG OR GO HOME, LITTLE MAN!"
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As The Renegades stood in the ring, staring at Alex Brody on the outside, the voice of the Commissioner could be heard, as Steven Brody walked out at the top of the ramp.
"Alex? I never wanted you to be a wrestler. I didn't want to see my kid get hurt. Or get eaten alive by this business the way so many others with kind hearts have been. But I can't run your life. And if this is what you want...then I'll back off, let you be, and not involve myself. AFTER TODAY."
"See... what those two ingrates in the ring right now did last week was unacceptable. As is their constant disrespect for the men and women who made this business what it is. So, in my one act of favoritism, I'm going to right two wrongs in one act. I went and got you the most perfect partner I could think of for this, Alex. Happy birthday, baby. Teach these assholes a lesson."
~I'm become, I'm become, I'm becoming.... I'm become, I'm become, I'm becoming....~
Hanson: "Huh...?"
Reynolds: "...Umm...Kid Cthulhu? How the hell is Alex gonna team with herself? What is this a handicap match?"
As he stepped aside, the opening of Fozzy's "Judas" began to play...and as the music kicked in, one word flashed in huge letters across the video wall: "JERICHO".
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL?!?!!?!?"
Hanson: "NOOOO WAAAAAY!!!!!"
Standing at the top of the ramp, in black leather pants, a matching vest.... and a flashing, light-up scarf, Chris Jericho gave a cocky smirk at The Renegades, before walking down the aisle, stopping only to give Alex a hug.
Hanson: "You wanna talk about sticking it to the Renegades?! What better way to do so than this?! A legend in the business! A VETERAN of the sport!!!"
Reynolds: "Ohhhhh and look at Max, LeBrun. He is LOSING IT!!!!"
Inside the ring, Max LeBrun and Candi Broduer were FURIOUS!! Max, possibly, more so than Candi as, while the girl pointed tossed insults towards Alex and Jericho, Max absolutely lost his temper and kicked the turnbuckle before shouting obscenities up the ramp towards the now absent Steven Brody.
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In what was truly, true mixed tag team wrestling, Alex Brody and Chris Jericho had an absolute WAR with Candi Broduer and Max LeBrun. Neither side had any adversity to trading blows with the opponent of the opposite gender, granted Jericho mostly egged Candi on to lay into him with her best shots, mostly hitting her with evasions and chain-counters.
It was Max LeBrun who went full on aggressive the first instance Candi tagged him in against Alex. However, when it looked like he was ready to plant Alex with the Aneurysm, Jericho launched himself over the ropes and sprung off the top rope to deliver a clothesline, saving the day. Rather than, follow up, however, he signaled to Alex, who paid homage to her currently present icon and hit Max with her best possible LIONSAULT!!
Hanson: "LOOK AT THE PROUD LOOK ON JERICHO'S FACE!!"
Reynolds: "GET 'EM, ALEX!!!"
In the conclusion of the match, Max attempted to interfere as the illegal competitor only to be intercepted by Jericho who locked him up in the Liontamer. As this was going on, Alex Brody delivered, to Candi, the Call of Cthulhu and covered her for the pinfall at 16:52, advancing her and Jericho into the semi-finals of the tournament.
Reynolds: "NOT ONLY DOES SHE TEAM WITH HER FAVORITE CHILDHOOD WRESTLER, BUT THEY *WIN* AND ADVANCE IN THE TOURNAMENT!!"
Hanson: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOUNG LADY!!! YOU DESERVE THIS!!"
Reynolds: "AND JUSTICE IS SERVED TO THE RENEGADES!!"
Hanson: "IT IS FOR NOW! YOU KNOW THEY'LL BE BACK, BUT AS OF NOW, THEY'RE OUT OF THIS TOURNAMENT AND ARE GONNA HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE STRATEGY TABLE!"
?"A brief pause passes before the booing crowd starts cheering as Commissioner Steven Brody comes walking out onto the stage, for the second time that night.
“Clarence?” Brody says into his own mic, not looking amused one bit as he stares down the ramp at Townsend and Victoria. “I understand you’re upset. I do. What happened at When Worlds Collide was completely out of my control.” Brody responds sincerely. “You think I can predict what a man like Toru Yano is gonna do? I can’t. However!” He raises a hand with his index finger extended. “What I *can* predict...is what happens when my employees come in and start making demands of me. Now...I don’t wanna be looked at as the tyrannical commissioner but after last week? Between the Dominion of Pain and the Renegades, I’m in a particularly sour mood. So, I’m not gonna stand out here and negotiate with anybody.”
Brody pauses, staring ahead at CFT. “You want a match with Yano, so bad? I can make it happen. However it can’t be tonight. Yano, you see, who’s contracted with New Japan Pro Wrestling is currently on their annual G1 Climax tour. So! Here’s how this is gonna go: three weeks. You’ve got three weeks to get ready. And then your ass shows up at our summer's end event, Highway To Hell. I assure you, Toru Yano will be there and so will your brief case...while you two face each other in a falls count anywhere match!”
Clarence has the mic (Scoffs).. "What Brody?.. Do I look like an animal...? You are jealous of me Brody.. Because my suit costs more than your paycheck and you are jealous arent you? Just like that Japanese ingrate numbskull... that fact that I have a Rolls Royce and a Ferrari in my garage makes you jealous....but whatever.. yea I'll be at your little match.. Just have a medical service ready for your little buddy because hes gonna need it!!!"
Steven Brody gives a bland, unamused smile. "Glad to hear you're so confident, Clarence. Now, if I'm not mistaken...you still have an open challenge tonight. Good luck." As Brody lowers the mic and begins to walk back behind the curtain, the sound of "Lunatic" fills the arena and the crowd goes wild.
Hanson: "WHOOOAAAA!!!!"
Reynolds: "WELP!! Townsend's got Yano at Highway To Hell but tonight...looks like he's facing one of the man's brothers in arms!"
As this is being said, CHAOS member, Beretta appears out on stage and makes his way to the ring, gesturing to CFT, 'you better forget about Yano for now, and worry about me.'
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In a fast paced match that saw Beretta, as the challenger, dishing out his high flying arsenal against his opponent, CFT demonstrated his own quickness and sharp wit, managing to defeat Beretta with the Bad Trade in 10:04. After the bell, Clarence locked Beretta in the Breaking Wallstreet, keeping him in a painful arch until the referee was finally able to convince him to let up.
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In a brutal match that saw The Rebel Rousers putting up one hell of a fight against a more dangerous force, Judas Lasher and Doomsday of the Dominion of Pain defeated them at 18:10 after Doomsday delivered a vicious SPEAR to Teddy Morse. To the shock of the crowd, Morse - albeit wobbly on his feet - got up almost immediately just in time as Judas Lasher slid back into the ring and delivered a quick and sudden Lucifer's Halo for the pinfall.
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*Rick Dickulous lays on a weight bench as William Mannheim loads plates on either side of a bar*
"So, you mean to tell me they let you wrap a chair in barbed wire, spray paint 'Folding Steel Championship' on it, and beat people with it, guy?"
"Exactly. I think I still have it laying around somewhere...maybe I should bring it out of retirement? I can think of a few people who could use a little facial reconstruction."
*Rick lifts the bar and begins bench press reps. The bar bends slightly as he pushes the bar away from his chest and exhales sharply. As he lowers the bar back to his chest, he inhales*
"I could use that tonight, eh? I mean, me, Nico Salvatore and Tyson Law in a cage? The only advantage I have here is that Nico and The Renegades get along like oil and water, buddy! I mean, at least Nico and I have a little common ground here."
*Mannheim chuckles*
"Yeah, until it's just you and Nico. Then what?"
"Well, then I guess we'll have to throw down. Not exactly my favourite way to deal with the situation..."
"No, but you can't take brownies out to ringside and then have a little tea party to decide a winner.
*Rick laughs*
"Guy, that would be fuckin' eh! I'd take that over throwin' hands any day...I'm curious to see how well Nico handles some of these top notch strains I've been getting sent in the mail! My fans are awesome!"
*Mannheim guides the bar to rest in the cradles of the bench, Rick sits up with a sigh*
"Look, Rick, tonight you gotta ignore who's in the ring with you, just keep on task. You need to get out first to win, fuck everyone else. Leave them wheezing on the mat, and climb your ass out."
*Rick smiles*
"I'm good at climbing...kinda goes with the territory in a logging camp, eh, guy? It'll be like when Michel Michaud got himself stuck up a 60 foot ash and I had to go get him down. Guy was too scared to move on account of the bear makin its way up to get him. So I hoofed that bear in the nads, punched it in the face, and it ran away like a scared bitch! So, basically, I'm treating Tyson Law and Nico Salvatore like the bear...and I gotta get Michel Michaud who's outside the cage...."
*Mannheim shakes his head*
"Look, you justify it however you want. As long as the end result is the same, it doesn't matter!"
*Rick nods*
"Well, at the end of the day, guy, something tells me this is gonna be one hell of a match...and I'm not pulling punches tonight. Sorry, not sorry, guy!"
*Mannheim claps Rick on the back*
"Good to hear, kid. Now go get ready...I gotta look for something...."
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As Shelton Benjamin stood, waiting, in the ring, the lights dimmed down just slightly with white strobes flashing around the stage while Born Of Osiris' "Machine" began to play over the sound system to the arena. Accompanied by the SUZUKI-GUN logo on the tron, shots of a massive figure lifting heavy objects in a form of improvised exercise, in a run down asylum room flashed across the screen. Cutting to the ramp, the camera panned up towards the stage as smoke filled the entry way. As the angle reached the entry way itself, the massive figure of Shelton Benjamin's opponent appeared, slowly stepping into view and pausing to stare down his opponent over in the ring.
In a sort of...updated version of what he was seen in last week, the large man wears his black trunks, pads and boots gear with a sleeveless SUZUKI-GUN t-shirt. His black face mask, now, also sported the stables' kanji writing vertically down one side.
Announcer: "Introducing, his opponent, representing Suzuki-Gun: standing at six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and sixty five pounds. He is....HAAAAAVOOOOOOK!!!!!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, this guy...is...SCARY!! Where does Minoru Suzuki find these guys?!"
Hanson: "I don't know, Jim...I don't think I WANNA know."
Reynolds: "What is it about a guy like this that got Suzuki's attention? That I DO wanna know!"
Hanson: "Same here. I have a feeling we're about to find out...."
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As the bell rang, Shelton Benjamin and Havok met in the center of the ring. The fearless Shelton, stepping right up to his larger opponent and inaudibly sharing some words. Havok just silently stared down at him through the eye holes of his mask with an unhinged, borderline insane look in his eyes. To start the match off, Shelton finished his verbal assault and finally went physical, SLAPPING Havok across his masked face.
Havok responded with a knife edge chop that sent a *SLAP* sound throughout the arena and sent Shelton to the mat.
Hanson: "OHHHH MAN!!!"
Reynolds: "WOW!!"
Hanson: "Shelton just went down like a ton of bricks!!"
Havok pulled Shelton Benjamin to his feet by gripping his head before irish whipping him into the corner, immediately running with him to follow up with a brutal corner-clothesline. Whipping him into the opposite corner, Havok charged right behind Shelton again for something. No one knew what, because as Shelton reached the corner, he managed to stop himself and hop over the ropes, causing Havok to go crashing into the turnbuckle. As the big man stumbled away, Shelton popped up and delivered a sharp kick to the side of his head, staggering him back towards the center of the ring. Once he attempted to springboard back inside, however, Havok caught him right out of the air around his waist and sent him hurdling with that same overhead belly to belly suplex he delivered last week, kipping up to his feet and performing a downward arm flex of his muscles to the crowd, roaring through his mask.
This was the general consensus of the match which saw Shelton Benjamin throw everything he had at Havok from high flying moves to his stiff striking. That which Havok matched, using heavy blows of his own, combined with a mix of surprisingly quick moves himself, sprinting across the ring to perform such moves as flying clotheslines and brutal European uppercuts.
The match came to a close when Shelton Benjamin attempted a springboard clothesline, only to Havok to catch him by the throat with one hand. Staring with those menacing eyes, the big man shook his head, lifting Shelton up as if for a chokeslam but propped him onto his shoulders, DRILLING him down with the Disasterpiece for the pin at 7:12.
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The camera shot opens up on a close up of a heavy bag, hanging from the ceiling. Suddenly a foot, padded with a red kick pad flies into the frame and SMACKS hard into the bag. The bag continues to shake as the camera catches a pair of hands in red, mma gloves pounding into the thick leather. We soon identify the source as being Max LeBrun, taking out some frustration in the Renegade's locker room. Currently dressed in black karate pants, Max unleashes a vicious, brutal assault on the heavy bag before pausing in his workout and catching it to stop it from swinging.
"You know something...?" He lets the bag go and turns around where the camera finds the rest of the Renegades, and starts removing his padded gloves."I've never seen someone...who cared so little for his own kid's well being." He tosses the gloves aside and grabs a bottle of water, taking a sip from it. "Am I the only one?"
There's always Doomsday..." Julian said with a snarky laugh, as Candi Brodeur silently tapes his fists up. "I mean, the big bastard obviously wasn't ever gonna be Father of the Year, but DAMN." Tyson Law, standing just to the side, gave a hilariously surprised wince then, as though he KNEW Julian was digging his own grave here.
Max lurched forward, nearly spitting his water out. “Dude?” He lifted his bottle and pointed that index finger at Julian. “You might win ballsiest superstar of the year, for that one. Then again? I was honestly surprised to hear that he even HAS kids! Like how did that happen? My only guess is he took from Bill Cosby’s bag of tricks.” He muffled a snicker behind another sip of water before shaking his head.
“Alright, real talk here.” He said, setting down his water and pulling the wraps off of his hands that were under his gloves. “J? You got a big one, tonight. Buzzsaw thinks he’s on the start of some midlife comeback just because he caved some gorilla’s face in. You know what to do, there. Ty!” Max turned from Julian to Tyson. “I want you to stick it to Brody, tonight. I can’t help but feel like he’s trying to give us shit with sticking one of us in this. But you know Salvatore better than any of us. And Rick? Fuck him. He ain’t shit. At the end of tonight, The Renegades have not one but TWO titles coming our way. And by the time Highway To Hell is over? Inaugural Mixed Tag Team Champions right here!” He gestured to himself before reaching and giving Candi Broduer a loud smack on the ass, grinning mischievously as he did.
Candi just raised an eyebrow at Max, giving no hint of amusement, other than the fact that she'd have punched anyone ELSE who'd done that right in the face. "Don't worry. This is gonna be a cakewalk. Most of the better people she'd team with are either already in other matches or not even in the building. Daddy's Little Girl doesn't stand a chance. I'm gonna put the crossface on her and not let go until I hear something snap."
"Jesus CHRIST, woman..." Tyson exclaimed, eyes widening at Candi's words. "Who hurt you? Seriously. Because you are seriously deranged." He looked at Max, giving a nod in reference to what the man had told him. "Don't worry about me... I'm good enough at stirring shit that even if they're planning to gang up on me... they'll be at each other's throats within minutes."
Max, however, looked more amused and delighted by Candi’s cold behavior as he grabbed a towel and hung it over the back of his neck. “Nah, Ty, not deranged. Calculated. Ya see, Candi learned everything she knows from the greatest son of a bitch to ever step inside a wrestling ring. He actually a damn about seeing new talent succeed! All you’re gonna see from her is exactly what he’d do in this situation. As for Alex’s partner? I’m gonna send his ass out of here with a concussion just to further get our point across. OR! This is a mixed match, after all. So, Candi just might snap *his* arm!” He remarked, patting Candi’s shoulder and looked at her. “And I may knock some sense into Daddy’s girl so that she reconsiders her life choices as of late.”
"Just remember..." Julian interjected, clearly being the most calm of the group. "She may be an annoying little twat... but she's fast, agile, and has no fear in that ring. NEITHER of you should underestimate her."
Max raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Who’s underestimating? That’s why we’re going in there with absolutely *no* mercy. A lot of those idiots out there probably expect me to be going soft in this tournament. Hell, me and all the other men halves of the teams. If they think that, their exposure to this business is seriously fucking limited. Candi and I have both worked in Japan. Hell, you too Jay.” He gave a light tap to his friend’s chest with the back of his hand. “No underestimating here and aside from little baby Blackheart and her sideshow freak of a partner, we’re probably the only ones who wrestled over there and knows what true mixed tag wrestling is. This is our ballpark. We’re just about to show everyone else how to play the game.”
"That's what I like to hear." Julian said with a slight grin. "Together, we're gonna end everyone who's ever wronged us, my man..."
“Hey....” Max said, taking a more serious and less arrogant tone. The man bumping fists with Julian. “This is *our* time. All of us. We’ve been held back from shots that we’ve earned for too goddamn long. People have only ever looked at us as ‘second rate’ or ‘midcard.’” Max winced. “God, I hate that fucking term!”
He shook his head, waving his hands to keep his cool and looked at the other three again. “Fight for what we believe in, right? Talking and ‘asking nicely’ got us nowhere. We need to do this for us and for anyone else who deserves that opportunity but keeps getting shit on. Speaking of which....” He turned to Tyson. “Where are we on that little project?”
"Don't worry..." Tyson laughed, patting Max on the back confidently. "We got his attention. Hardest part's over. Now it's just a matter of making him see the truth." He looked at Max, pointing at the scars on his body. "And the truth is clear as day. The truth is in the scars you got from Kane." He pointed to Candi, "The scars she got from Rosemary." Then he pointed at Julian. "And the scars he got from Doomsday. The truth is that if you aren't one of the 'chosen ones', all the sacrifice, pain, and suffering in the world isn't gonna get you noticed. The truth is that if you want noticed, you gotta do that shit yourself. And that's what the Renegades are all about."
Max lifted his chin at Tyson, looking at the man as if he was a little surprised...yet appreciative that someone else actually got the point that he was trying to make in the Renegades. "That's *exactly* it, and what the rest of these privileged assholes around us don't get." He low fived Tyson and gave him daps before turning to the camera, making sure he was standing so that the four of them were all in the angle. "You don't make it through a battle without a few scars to tell your story. You do if you're lucky...or if you don't have the guts to really fight for your cause. The Renegades? We'll sacrifice anything and everything to win. All's fair in love and war...and *this*...is *our*...fucking war...." As he finished speaking, he leaned into the camera, raising his fist with his thumb tucked inside of it. Finally, he whispered, "Boom!" As he flicked his thumb out, indicating the pulling of a grenade pin before the shot cut to static.
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The camera opened up to the familiar sight of a pair of tattooed arms as one hand, with tape on the wrist, taped up the right fist. Panning back, the shot revealed, as expected, Nico Salvatore sitting on a bench in the locker room. Sitting silently, the man appeared to be in deep thought until the sound of a knock at his door made him casually look up, passed the camera. “Yo!” He called out, looking back down as he taped his hand.
The door could be heard opening before the camera panned back, revealing none other than N*FW interviewer, Josh Andrews, stepping into frame. “Ummm...excuse me, Nico?” The squirrelly man said, tentatively as Nico slowly looked up at him with a disinterested look in his eyes. Josh Andrews took a deep breath as he stood there, staring down at the man who had more or less been antagonizing him since the rebirth of the brand.
Josh even jumped slightly, as all Nico did was stand up from his seat and look down at the man. “Relax, bro. My mind’s too focused to even fuck with you, right now.”
Josh Andrews’ eyes widened as if the intimidating man had just given him a compliment. “...Really?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Yeah! Really! But I am gonna slap you like a little bitch, if you don’t get to the point! Or did you *wanna*!get smacked around?”
“No no! No....” Josh swallowed nervously. “So....” He trailed off and Nico motioned with his hands, looking impatient at this point. Josh nodded apologetically. “So, no one’s heard from you for awhile! Meanwhile, the Renegades have continued their heinous acts against the superstars whom they claim are just here to hold new and prospective talent back.”
Nico made a ‘pfft’ sound and tore the tape from his wrist and turned back to set it on the locker shelf. “Bro, fuck the Renegades. Don’t get me wrong; I couldn’t care less about the motherfuckers they’re going after. The only grudge I have with them, is that they decided to throw me into the mix because of where I come from. Now, I’ve told them before that I wasn’t gonna take their shit lyin’ down. Sure, I’ve been quiet lately. But you f’nucs think that means you’ve won? You think that means you’ve beaten me?” As he said this, he looked directly into the camera. “Bro, Max...you and your little gaggle of soy boys ain’t beaten shit! You come out to the ring, talkin’ about how you’re the deserving ones who have been wrongfully held back. Meanwhile, I’m out there earnin’ my spot, kicking the shit out of everyone that’s put in front of me! And anytime someone calls you on your shit, you try to take the underhanded route and get rid of them without facin’ them like real competitors. Last week, it was the big commish’s daughter which, hey, I gotta give that girl kudos. Her ass took the licks you gave her and came back swingin’ like a goddamn boss. She doesn’t even know who she’s gotta rely on tonight in this little tag tournament her old man put together but her ass is itchin’ to beat the piss outta all of ya’s. The girl’s got a big heart to go with that tight little ass.”
Josh Andrews’ eyes widened at that last statement as he looked at the camera. Did Nico just say that about the boss’ daughter?!
“What?” Nico stopped to look at him, careless at the fact. “Hey, fuck you, Josh.” Nico remarked, essentially chastising the man’s wimpy reaction.
“Uhh...anyway....” Josh continued. “Moving on...your match tonight. On the topic of the Renegades, you have an unfriendly history with one of your opponents tonight, Tyson Law.”
“Tch! Fuck, Tyson Law.” Nico said, without missing a beat. “I know he thinks he’s got an upper hand going in there because he ain’t the only one I have to worry about. That’s true. He’s not. But! That’s where he keeps fuckin’ up. He thinks I’m worried about anything at all.”
“You’re not the least bit concerned about stepping into that cage with, not only Tyson Law but, the Silver Mountain Champion, Rick Dickulous, as well?”
“Should I be?” Nico said, punching his taped fist into his hand, causing Josh Andrews to jerk a little. “I mean, yeah, Rick’s a big dude. He’s built like a Manhatten skyscraper. But if that’s him, then I’m the one man demolition crew that’s gonna bust his ass down and walk out of here with that strap. Tyson?” He looked to the camera again. “Bitch, you’re just the piece of shit that I’m gonna use as the battering ram. I’ve got more technique than you, I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than you, shit I’ve got more heart than you. And that’s what the Silver Mountain Championship is all about. Fucking heart...and drive! I’ve got more heart and drive than both you and that seven foot burnout molded together. The day I lose clean straight up to either of you is a cold day in hell. Judas Lasher was right about one thing: I have *limitless* potential and neither you two, or any of those other bastards in the locker room have a clue what I’m fully capable of. I’ve only just gotten started in this company but you’s should know that I don’t fuck around when I’m in that ring!” He said, pointing off to the side, gesturing towards the direction of the ringside area. “And I, for damn sure, ain’t gonna be in that cage, twiddlin’ my damn thumbs. There’s a reason they call me the Urban Gladiator. That ring is *MY* arena! *MY* coliseum! You two - Tyson...Rick... - are just the two fodder that I have to cut down to move my way further up the ladder!” Lowering his arm, he turned to Josh Andrews. “We done here?”
Hesitantly, Josh Andrews nodded. “Y-yeah. I guess, so. Yeah.”
“Good. Because now you *are* startin’ to annoy me just by being here.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Get the fuck outta my sight!”
Swallowing nervously again, Josh Andrews turned towards the camera. “Nick. Jim. Back to you!” He said quickly and scurried out of the locker room as the shot cut back to ringside.
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*The scene shifts to another part of the arena where we see Connor K. walking around with purpose, searching for something as he quickly opens and closes doors he comes across before moving forward.*
"Excuse me agent dude, have you seen AKI anywhere?" Connor says as he stops one of the road agents in the back.
"Uhmm, no? Have you checked the locker room area?" the agent says.
"Of course I checked the area. I wouldn't be out here looking for him if that was the case, right? Josh...JOSH...dude!!!" Connor frantically says as he shoves the agent away and quickly heads toward Josh Davidson, going over some notes just outside the interview area.
"Oh hey Connor? What's up? Don't you have a match you should be getting ready for with AKI tonight?" Davidson asks.
"That's just it, man. I haven't seen AKI at all and we have a tag match with TAKA and Sabre Jr. tonight. I want to go over some stuff with him before tonight because that Zack Sabre Jr. is a bad dude, man," Connor says to both Davidson and the road agent who came back into the camera, rubbing the back of his head slowly.
"Well, you can't discount TAKA Michinoku either. He was considered one of the great in-ring workers during his prime," the agent says as Davidson nods in agreement.
"He's got a point there," Davidson adds.
"Yeah, yeah. I've seen it and dude, I don't think he really choppy choppy that dude's pii-pii, ok? Look, I gotta go. If you see AKI, tell him I'm looking for him, ok?" Connor says as he gets leaves.
"Oh, and you know I would NEVER arrive here at the last second for my match. If AKI did that, that would be some fucked up shit right there," Connor adds as he walks away with the camera shifting their focus back to Davidson and agent with incredulous looks on their faces.
"But, that was all he ever...did, right?" Davidson asks the road agent as they both go their separate ways. The camera pans more to the left, and we see AKI standing there, looking in the direction Connor went as the camera fades to black.
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Rick Dickulous retained the Silver Mountain Championship in the triple threat cage match when, after several minutes of all three men fighting it out and obviously vying to achieve victory, Nico Salvatore climbed onto the top turnbuckle to stop Tyson Law from climbing out of the cage, grabbing him around the waist. As the two struggled, Rick Dickulous hurried over and pulled Nico down onto his shoulders, delivering a Tower of Doom powerbomb, which in turn caused Nico to German Suplex Tyson Law from nearly the top of the cage.
As the three struggled to their feet, Rick made it up first, followed soon after by Nico and the two stood in the center of the ring, staring each other down intensely. Rather than continue the fight, however, Nico slowly turned towards Tyson Law, pulling himself up by the ropes. He looked back to Rick Dickulous and nodded casually towards the top of the cage and turned towards Tyson. Hesitating only a moment, mostly out of uncertainty, Rick Dickulous shrugged his shoulders and began climbing the cage wall. By the time Tyson Law turned around from his side of the ring, he found himself face to face, solely with Nico as Rick reached the top and began climbing down on the other side.
Hanson: "Ohhhh my god, Nico just sacrificed his chance at a championship...but now he's got Tyson all to himself with nowhere to run!"
For some reason, something about the look in Nico's eyes seemed to disturb Tyson so much that, rather than come at him, the man hastily turned and tried to scale the cage wall itself. Nico sprung into sudden action, however, and yanked him down, beginning to lay into him with savage chops and elbows. Tyson began fighting back and a post-match brawl was on as Jackyl's "The Lumberjack" played with Rick Dickulous carrying the Silver Mountain Championship up the ramp.
Inside the cage, Tyson and Nico continued to beat the hell out of each other until several referees rushed into the cage through the door and pulled the two men apart.
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*"Real Bone Mother" starts to play in the arena as we see TAKA Michinoku, wearing a black sleeveless shirt saying JUST TAP OUT, leading Zack Sabre Jr. to the ring. Sabre pauses for a moment on the ring apron to bring up the collar on his ring jacket as he steps through the ropes and into the center of the ring. TAKA takes the mic from the ring announcer and signals for the music to stop. Once the music stops, TAKA looks around with a confident smirk on his face as he and Sabre look at each other for a moment and nod confidently to each other.*
"WELLLLLLLLLLCOOOOOMMMEEE TO ZACK...SABRE...TIME!!!" TAKA yells as there's a noticeable mix in crowd reaction, most booing but there's a fair amount of cheering too as both men look at their wrist and check their imaginary watches.
"NFW...LAAAASSS VEEEEEGGGAAASSS...AKI...Connor K... dare ga katsu to omoimasu ka? Naredesu ka? Naredesu ka? Karera ga katsu to omou anata subete no tame ni mōshiwake arimasen. Anata wa kon'ya warui ketsumatsu o eru. Shōsha wa, zakkudoraibā no masutādearu otoko o tokuchō to suru chīmu ni narimasu. Mata, teishutsu no masutādeari, teishutsu o itsu demo doko demo horyū suru koto ga dekiru hito. Sono jiten de, anata ga 1tsu no koto o suru kata ga kantandesu...JUST...TAP...OUT!!!" TAKA says as Sabre unbuttons his jacket and nods confidentally, giving TAKA a fist bump.
"HE...IS...WRESTLING MACHINE. HE...IS...Submission Master. HE...IS...ZSJ. HE...ISSSSSS...ZACK...SABREEEEE...JUUUUUUUNNNNIIIOOORRRRR!!!" TAKA yells into the mic as Sabre continues to stand coolly in the ring.
*Both men turn their attention to the rampway, with Sabre gesturing someone to come forward with his hands.*
"AKI...Connor K...COME ON...OVER....HERE," TAKA says confidently as both men point in front of them.
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Zack Sabre Jr and TAKA Michinoku defeated Connor K and AKI in 11:25 when Sabre forced Connor to tap out to a cross arm bar.
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The scene opens as we are in the backstage area and some distorted voices are heard coming from the hallway.. one of those voices is Ryan Steele although we cant see who hes talking to but things are going somewhat good. According to the tone of the voice... "So Yea man, i can try to say something but dont know what they'll say?"... As Ryan continues....
"But i can try.." The other voice responds "Cool,Man... Ill see you in a bit"
“Ryan?” A female voice calls from offscreen. A few seconds go by and in comes Morgan Payne, skipping into the shot to stand next to Ryan Steele; a happy smile on her face. “Hey!” She says, greeting him with a hug around the neck. “Been lookin’ all ovah f’ya! Wanted t’talk strategy on the tag tourney an’ all that shit.”
She pauses a moment and looks around them. “Babe, were you talkin’ t’someone, just a second ago?”
"Yes i was actually..." Ryan replies. "You are gonna meet my only friend that ive had all my life... Hes on his way here...." Ryan adds.
“Aww, I can’t wait!” Morgan said, excitedly, hugging onto Ryan’s arm. “Buuuut, I wouldn’t call him your *only* friend.” She teased with a grin. “Ya got me, too, ya goofball.” Morgan rested her head against Ryan’s shoulder. “Also, hey. About your match tonight; don’t you and my pops go too HAM on each other, yeah? Just have a good match. That’s all this is.” She said with an almost uncharacteristic look of worry on her face. She obviously didn’t like the idea of her father and boyfriend wrestling against each other, even if it was just a match that the booking team put together for the sheer potential of how entertaining the two men’s respective skills would be against the other.
All of a sudden theres a knocking noise on the door..."Come in" Ryan says... "Hey man...." the other voice says. "Hey whats up buddy?" Ryan asks.... " Whos this little hot thing?" The other voice asks.. " This is my girl Morgan Payne" Ryan says... "Morgan this is my friend S.R.Y " Ryan adds .. "It stands for Sabastian Riley Young.. " Sabastian adds to Ryan's introduction
"Yea , Me and this guy used to rule the indie scene... We've held countless tag titles all over the globe" Ryan says " Too bad that cant happen anywhere else ?" Sabastian adds
Morgan turns to the door as it opens, putting on her best smile to greet Ryan’s friend. “Hey, there! Sup?” She can’t help the blush on her cheeks from the man’s compliment towards her.
In response to the Sebastian’s remark about winning tag titles, Morgan looks back and forth between the two men. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Yins can win more. Hell...there’s always the tag titles...y’know...here.” She points to the ground, indicating right there in N*FW. “I mean...yins’d have t’beat my old man and Uncle D for ‘em. But, I bet it’d be an awesome match!” She looks to Sebastian, specifically, then. “My man here’s a fuckin’ badass in the ring! That must mean you can kick some ass, too, if yins tagged together, yeah?”
"Yea definitely, I was known as "Dangerous" Sabastian Riley Young. I didnt get that name for no reason either..... " Sabastian looks at Morgan while he has his hat on backwards with a hazardous sign with the word "Dangerous" written over top of it.. Sabastian has got his black and yellow hoodie with caution tape printed on it with danger signs in various places.
And a pair of basic blue jeans.. it is not known if he has a shirt underneath the hoodie... "Hey man. Dont you have to get going?" Ryan asks Sabastian.. " No, im not going.. Its why im here... i just gotta call saying that they let me go..." Sabastian says... " Oh, Man im sorry" Ryan adds.... " Hey man, I might be able to pull some strings for you here man..." Ryan replies
"I just dont know what i wanna do now" Sabastian says
Morgan raises her eyebrows in stunned disbelief at Sebastian’s remark. “Dude! Let Ryan help! He can maybe set you up with a sit down with Brody! He’s our big commish! Bring him a tape, ask about a tryout or somethin’! Trust me, he ain’t no Vinny Mac or Bitch-Off. He’ll hook you up, man! Shit, if it helps *I’ll* even vouch for ya. If my man here says you’re the real deal, that’s enough for me.” As she says this, she leans more into Ryan and leans up to place a quick peck on his cheek.
“Babe.” Morgan says, tugging on Ryan’s shirt. “I’mma go run and see if I can’t get a word with the big man, real quick. You and I gotta talk strategy later, though! Muh’fuckin Mixed Tag Team Championships, here we come!” Morgan playfully ‘boops’ Ryan on the nose before dashing off screen. A second later, she reappears and gives Sebastian a quick fist bump. “Nice t’meetcha by the way! Fuckin’ dig the colors!” She pounds her chest a couple times and throws him the ‘peace’ sign before finally hurrying out the door.
"Ok Girl, See ya later Beautiful.... " Ryan says to Morgan. " Hey man, do you wanna come here?, i mean between her and i, we can get you in...." Ryan tells Sabastian... "I just dont know... i mean... we were doing so good on our apart.. And i know you kinda liked the singles success... cause i know i did...." Sabastian says... " Yea i aint gonna lie.. i kinda did.. but imagine man, that combined singles success. What do you think? Ryan asks Sabastian..." Well i guess ill see what your girl does first then i guess ill go from there... maybe the money will be better, cause $100 a week isnt anything at all" Sabastian says
"Well hang here i gotta go to see when my match is... ill chat later man...." Ryan says... " Alright man .... " Sabastian says "Hey Ryan" Sabastian adds..."Yea" Ryan replies... "Thanks" The scene closes as Ryan shuts his locker room door and nods to Sabastian................
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The camera finds Amy Connors standing with the McKeesport Mafia’s “The Punisher” Andrew Payne, in front of an N*FW backdrop. Amy looks radiant as ever while Payne is already in his ring gear, ready for competition.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Amy Connors, here with the one, the only, “The Punisher” Andrew Payne. How are you feeling, tonight, Andrew?” She asks, extending the mic for the man to speak.
“I’m alright, Amy. Thanks for the flashy introduction.” He says in a calm tone, rolling a wrist as part of a light warm up.
“Andrew, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you just a few questions; get your insight on some of the recent goings on here in N*FW.” Amy remarks to which Andrew simply nods, giving her the go ahead. As such, Amy begins. “First off, if it’s alright, let’s start with two weeks ago: Osaka-Jo Hall, our fallout show from When Worlds Collide.”
Andrew gives just the slightest roll of his eyes as Amy speaks.
“You and your tag team partner, Big Daddy Payne, scored an impressive victory against Zack Sabre Jr. and TAKA Michinoku. A record length match. The shortest tag team match ever in N*FW history. But then...as we all saw, you were attacked after the bell. At first, it looked like it was just your opponents from When Worlds Collide, the Killer Elite Squad, but as things played out...more wrestlers joined the fray and it turned out to be an organized attack by none other than Minoru Suzuki and his Suzuki-Gun. Do you...have any idea why that attack took place?” She extends the mic again.
“Listen, Amy.” Andrew says in that usual, cool, calm, calculated tone. “It’s pretty clear, to me, what happened. I don’t imagine everyone in New Japan is happy about the deal between Steve Brody and Harold Meij. But if you have a problem with it, you go talk to the ones responsible. That’s how I look at it. Instead, Minoru Suzuki sends his troops out there then comes out with Paul Heyman - which believe me, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest - talking about how we’re trespassing on their stomping ground. Moving in on their turf. Now D and I, my blood brother from another mother, we signed back with N*FW under the agreement that we wrestle whoever we’re booked against. We got booked to defend our tag team championships against Lance Archer and Davey Boy Smith Jr. Props to ‘em. They put up one hell of a fight. Smith? I see a lot of your old man in you, kid. You beat the hell out of people just as well as he did. But don’t bite off more than you can chew. Suzuki, you made a name for yourself as one of the toughest, meanest sons of bitches in this business. People are genuinely terrified of you. D and I?” He thumbs to himself and then off to the side, indicating the current absent BDP and shakes his head. “We’re not. Hell, frankly, I think it was a smart move, you bringing in that hulking lunatic last week, because I think you knew you needed a little extra insurance after pulling your little stunt in Osaka. If you’re looking for a fight, you know where to find us. All you’ve gotta do is say the word.”
Amy Connors nods and brings back the mic. “Well, it sounds like a challenge has been accepted before it’s even been officially made! However, it would seem as if you and yours aren’t entirely alone in this situation. It *did* seem like you had some help....”
Andrew nods slightly. “Right, right. Connor K and, what’s his name, AKI? It’s like Connor said last week, cliché as it might sound, the enemy of my enemy. So, guys? We may not know each other that well, but rest assured, we’re on the same page. You ran out and stood with us against the odds when you didn’t have to. So just know, the Mafia’s got your backs.”
Smiling, Amy continues. “Next, Andrew, I’d like to get your thoughts on a subject that seems to have everyone here in N*FW buzzing: I’m talking about The Renegades. Now you’re very familiar, of course, with—“
Andrew calmly cuts her off with a raised hand and calls for the mic which she extends back up to him. “I’m gonna say this about The Renegades: you guys better pull your heads out before you go too far. Now, you’re already towing that line after last week. Max? Kid, you have all the makings of a star in this business. D even said as much back when you first started. ‘Future superstar.’ That’s what he called you. It ain’t our fault you haven’t caught your big break yet. Hell, I’ve seen you wrestle. I’m not saying it’s your fault, either. But big breaks aren’t just handed out to people in this business. Pushes aren’t just given to people who feel like they deserve it. You work hard, you bust your ass and you get noticed. Now, there’s a lot of shitty promotors out there who don’t have an eye for proper talent. Maybe that’s the string of luck you ran into. I’d put my money on the fact that if you had come and talked to Steven Brody, he would have found a spot for you. But instead, what do you do? You talk Candi into joining you on your dumb little crusade, you reach out to Julian Morrison, who’s probably one of the most self-centered pieces of shit to ever steal air, and then the two of you, along with Candi, fill Tyson Law’s head with delusions of grandeur that if he follows you around and ‘takes out the veterans and pioneers stealing the spotlight’—“ he makes quotation marks with his fingers, “—that it’ll make him a star and gain respect. Kid, you are treading down the wrong path, and if the four of you keep this up, the only thing it’s gonna end in, for you, is embarrassment and a hell of a lot of pain.”
He raises one wrist, adjusting the strap of his glove as Amy Connors brings the mic back to herself. “Lastly, Andrew, I wanna ask you about your match tonight. You step into the ring with Ryan Steele. He calls himself The Omega. It’s also, obviously, no surprise that he has become...involved, per say...with your daughter, N*FW superstar, Morgan Payne. Do you have any comments to make regarding your opponent?”
Andrew snorts, cracks his neck and lowers his hands. “Look, Amy, I love my daughter. I raised her as a single dad since she was ten years old. As much as I dote on her and like to always look at her as ‘that innocent little girl’, I know, deep down that she’s grown and she can handle herself. She knows what she’s doing and she can make her own decisions. Now, don’t get me wrong; Ryan? I *am* watching you because that’s what fathers do. But as far as tonight? This wasn’t my call. This is how booking lined things up, so let’s make the best of it. You got skills in the ring, kid. You love what you do and you like to get a little rough. You like to fight. I, more than anyone, can respect that. So, tonight? Let’s mix it up a little in the ring. We’ll call it ‘earning her father’s approval’. Meet me in that ring and show me what you’ve got. Man to man.” He raises the back of one hand, thumb and pinky extended.
“Thank you, Andrew. We look forward to your match tonight! Back to you Nick and Jim!” Amy says as Andrew Payne calmly steps away from the backdrop and out of the frame.
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"You know what, Erin?" Alex Brody said as the camera faded in on her, "You know I don't really swear. Or even really say bad things about people, for the most part. But those Renegades? What a bunch of ASSHOLES!" Of course, given the overall niceness she gave off, even in anger, the words sounded almost comically adorable. She had just changed into her ring gear, which was essentially her Kid Cthulu outfit, just without the mask and with light blue replacing the green.
Erin Mercer stood next to where Alex was, with a hand up to her mouth, trying to keep from laughing at the girl's ferocity, or rather, lack thereof. A snicker still escaped, though. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh! But maybe verbally expressing how pissed you are isn't your thing." She went serious then, touching her friend's arm. "I get what you mean, though. Those dickheads are so self entitled, it makes me sick. I mean, if even half of what they were saying was true, I don't think either you or I would be where we're at now? I mean...." She shrugged. "I'm not a second gen wrestler and I get a crack at the psychopath carrying the Women's Championship around. Tonight, *you* get to main event the show in your tag match!" She grabbed Alex by the shoulders. "My homegirl is main eventing!" She shook Alex, playfully before releasing her and looked more inquisitive than anything, next. "That reminds me, has your dad told you who you're teaming up with tonight? I'm all for surprises, but not in situations like this. Nothing against Morgan Payne, but having us just thrown together like that at the last minute without being able to go over a strategy? I feel like that's the most important point in a tag team and that's partly why we got our asses whupped, last week."
"No.... Dad hasn't been really happy with me this last week." Alex said with a sigh, bending down to tie her bootlaces. "He never wanted me to be a wrestler, and so he's obviously kinda upset that I not only went against his wishes, but also lied about it." She paused then, before finally admitting, "Honestly, the Renegades inadvertently saved my career. He really was gonna fire me... but no way was he gonna let them do that to me and not give me the chance to make them pay. So, no, I don't know who he's gonna pick. But I do know he's gonna pick someone that'll be perfect for this match."
Erin touched a knuckle to her chin and nodded. "Yeah, your dad *does* have an eye for talent. NFW's been trending all over since the company resurfaced! I just hope whoever it is is someone you can rely on. Otherwise--" Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. Erin looked over immediately. Could that be them? She looked back at Alex and silently shrugged with a curious look on her face. "Come in! Nobody's naked!" As the sound of the door opening could be heard, Erin's eyes widened. Not so much in shock, but more as in a 'what the hell am I looking at' expression. "Whaaaaat theeee heeeeelll----?"
"WE DON'T GET HYPED!!" A male voice boomed at the top of his lungs. "WE STAAAAY HYPED!!!" With the respective music then coming from a smart phone, Vincent Stone came energetically jumping into frame. In addition to his regular ring gear, he wore -- comically enough -- a bright yellow headband and a sleeveless tie dyed shirt over his normal entrance tee. With a look as if she didn't know whether to laugh or shake her head, Erin buried her face in one hand. "Ohhh my god, Vin. What the HELL are you doing now?" She looked up with a warning in her eyes. "Don't tell me you're trying to reinvent yourself."
Promptly, Stone stops jumping in place and kills the music. "Nah, just felt like fucking around." He said, pulling the headband off and tossing it aside before stripping off the tie dyed Hype Bros t-shirt, revealing his true entrance shirt as one that said 'Hands Of Stone'. Erin rolled her eyes, laughing softly before looking at Alex and shrugging. "Yup. He's back, alright."
"Damn right, I'm back! Ready to rock this tournament tonight, how 'bout you?" He raised a hand. Erin returned the high five. "Damn straight. It's been too long since we've been in the ring together!"
Looking from Erin to Alex, Stone offered the girl a fist bump. "Hey, Alex! Glad to see you got to stick around. Hey, happy birthday by the way."
"Hey, thanks Vince." Alex said, before adding, in that same happy tone, "Oh, by the way: Mojo Rawley called, he wants his old gimmick back." She grinned, her smile so sweet and innocent that only her remarkable figure was a reminder of how old she actually was. "You guys are gonna do great. Not many mixed-gender teams are gonna have the natural chemistry you guys have."
"He can have that shit." Stone said with a smirk, pulling on his black skull cap. "Thanks, Alex. I think chemistry and time together is what makes a tag team. In this case, we might be the only ones out of the eight who have wrestled matches like these before. Not that I'm knocking any of the other teams. Well...except LeBrun and Broduer. Fuck those two."
"Zing!" Erin chimed in. "I was just telling Alex the same thing! Thanks for the backup there." Erin and Stone exchanged a fist bump.
"Well, it's true." He shrugged. "Shit, with that in mind, *you two* make a pretty badass tag team for the women's division, so far! If Commissioner Brody's announced these championships, maybe a women's division isn't too far behind. You girls should totally go for it!"
"Oh, you know it. Team Merlex, baby!!" Erin threw her arm around Alex's shoulders. "Hey! I'm taking my new bgf here out after the show. You should come with!"
"Birthday in Vegas? Hell yeah!" Stone looked at Alex. "You're lucky. My claim to fame on birthday parties was going to cosmic night at a bowling alley where crackheads liked to hang out and try to jimmy rig the arcade machines for drug money."
Erin frowned and looked at him. "Where the hell...?"
"Central Florida." Stone replied simply.
"Ohhh, yeah." Erin nodded, turning back to Alex. "Well, we're in a big city full of big wigs so, we shouldn't run into any of that. But, keep in mind! This is our boss's daughter so we gotta take care of her! No crazy, stupid shit!" She pointed at Vincent Stone with a look that said she was speaking from experience.
Stone scoffed. "Pfft! You forget who you're talking to? We're all gonna kick ass tonight and then Alex? Shots and slots at the fucking Rampart! You down?" He held a hand up high.
Alex laughed and high-fived him, happy to finally feel like she'd made some true friends. "I totally LOVE you guys. Really." She looked back at the camera then, her smile turning into more of a devious smirk. "And Renegades? You guys really thought you were gonna make an example out of me last week. And you know what? You failed. You might've finished off Kid Cthulu... but thanks to you, now it's Alex Brody's time to SHINE. I don't care who my dad sends to the ring tonight. Whether it's Doomsday or Bob the 70-year-old janitor that just cleaned the locker room... the point is that win or lose, I'm taking a piece of BOTH you tonight."
On either side of her, Vincent Stone and Erin Mercer stepped up, laying hands on her shoulders. "You assholes aren't the only ones who stick together." Erin added before Stone chimed in. "I'm normally not much for talking shit. So, for now? We'll see you two in the ring, sooner or later, I think. And as big of bitches that you guys are? Payback's even worse." He gives a confident, determined smirk, raising one of his taped fists under his jaw while Erin gestures between herself and Alex. "*Merlex*...Out!!" With Erin throwing the deuces, the camera shot cuts away.
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Ryan Steele and Andrew Payne, more or less, began their match with fair play with Payne offering a handshake to Steele before the bell and Steele accepting it with a nod.
Hanson: "Sportsmanship, right there! I like it!"
Reynolds: "Now that's how you impress your girl's dad before you fight him!"
Hanson: "Jim...? You normally don't...fight your girlfriend's dad. If you do, there's something wrong."
Reynolds: "Maybe you and I were raised differently."
Hanson: "I was raised by a loving, happy family."
Reynolds: "Don't judge me."
While neither of the two strayed from their normal strategies of incorporating the occasional 'unconventional' trick during the match -- i.e Steele taking shots at the obvious weakened knee of Payne, as made obvious by his knee brace, and Payne being warned by the referee about closed handed fists, the two were putting on a match that had the crowd literally split in cheers for either men.
After Ryan Steele managed to lift Andrew Payne and deliver his signature Fireman's Carry Sideslam, the referee immediately turned in the direction of the ramp.
Hanson: "What the hell? What's Max LeBrun doing out here?!"
Sure enough, Max LeBrun came casually walking down towards the ring with a smug smile on his face. The man pointing towards the inside of the ring and shaking his head to the crowd as he uttered inaudible words if discouragement. The leader of the Renegades went so far as to climb up onto the apron which drew the referee over to begin yelling at him to get down. The commotion even drew Ryan Steele over to ask Max what he was even doing out here. With Ryan and the referee's backs turned, the crowd began to stir as Tyson Law came hopping over the barricade and slid into the ring while Andrew Payne was getting up onto one knee.
Hanson: "HEY!!! HEY!!!! WHAT THE HELL'S TYSON DOING?!?!"
Reynolds: "OH, MAX, THAT SNEAKY SON OF A BITCH!"
Tyson Law grabbed Andrew Payne from behind, clutching one of his wrists where he spun him around and yanked him right back into the LAWBREAKER!!!!!
Hanson: "AND IT'S A LAWBREAKER, BY TYSON!! GODDAMN IT!!!"
Afterwards, Tyson swiftly slid out of the ring and took off through the crowd again. Only then did Max Lebrun finally raise his hands in submission and hop down from the ring apron. We could hear him, just barely, saying 'Okay! I'm going, I'm going!' The referee and Ryan Steele both turned around then to find Andrew Payne struggling even more to get onto his feet. When he finally did, Ryan, oblivious to what just happened, delivered the Chaos Theory to Andrew Payne to score the pinfall at 12:11.
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*In the backstage area, we see Josh Davidson.*
"Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, accompanied by his advocate, Paul Heyman, Minoru Suzuki," Davidson says.
*An audible boo can be heard from the arena crowd as Suzuki steps into the camera area with a towel over his head with Paul Heyman by his side. Before Davidson can start, Heyman puts his hand over the mic and gestures him to step away from the area as he focuses his attention to the camera.*
"Ladies and gentlemen. My name, is Paul Heyman. And I'm here as an advocate for the King of Pro Wrestling, Minoru Suzuki. Now, Mr. Davidson, let's get one thing perfectly straight here. Mr. Suzuki is NOT one to conduct interviews before a match. And I will more than gladly step in and act as his spokesman in his stead. Mr. Satoru Shade III, you came here as a house of fire when you first set foot into NFW. But as of late, we have seen little of that spark that you showed when you came here. You will need to bring more than that if you're to have any chance of surviving your encounter with Minoru Suzuki. Every conquest needs that first step. Mr. Shade, you are that first step. Unfortunately, you will need to be made an example of tonight to the rest of the NFW roster. You are going to be the standard, for which pain thresholds will be reached. For you are not seen as someone who is on the same level as Minoru Suzuki. He does not see you as a peer. He sees you like he sees the young lions around the ring. You want his respect? You come down to the ring and try to beat it out of this man," Heyman says sternly as the camera shifts focus to Suzuki, who still has the towel around his head and ignoring the camera.
"Mr. Davidson, when my client is done dismantling Mr. Shade, you are more than welcome to come to the ring and conduct your proper interview with Mr. Suzuki at that time. Until then, this has been YOUR pleasure," Heyman says as he shoves the mic back into Davidson's hands as he and Suzuki leave the interview area and the camera shifts back to a worried look on Davidson's face.
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As Lara Blackheart and The Crimson Sabre stood in the ring, waiting, the arena was suddenly filled with the sound of Iron Maiden's "The Trooper." Fans who were familiar with the independent circuit gave a nostalgia fueled pop as Erin Mercer and Vincent Stone came, energetically, rushing out onto the stage, firing them up more as they played to the crowd with high energy before meeting in the center and giving each other a triple handslap followed by a fist bump.
"Their opponents! Vincent Stone...Erin Mercer...they are....KICKS -- AND -- STONES!!"
Hanson: "You know, Jim. As a fan of ALL wrestling, I was kinda hoping we would see this! Trust me, it is LONG overdue!"
After the opening lyrics to the song sounded and the guitar tempo picked up, Stone and Mercer hit the ring at a brisk jog, each taking a side of the ramp and high fiving as many fans as they could before coming up onto the apron at opposite sides and simultaneously hopping over the top rope, turning in a full circle until they met in the center to deliver another theatrical fist bump.
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In the opening match for the Mixed Tag Team Tournament, Vincent Stone and Erin Mercer defeated The Crimson Sabre and Lara Blackheart after an electric contest when Stone hit Sabre with the Bootscraper in the corner and rolled him right into a pinfall at 18:40, advancing into the semi-finals.
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Minoru Suzuki made short work of Satoru Shade III, willfully keeping the match going as he pleased simply to torment and dismantle his fellow countryman with some of his signature submission holds before defeating him in 7:02 after rendering him almost completely unconcious with a rear naked chokehold before spinning him around and planting him with the Gotch Style Piledriver, for the pinfall victory.
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The camera cuts to inside the office of Commissioner Steven Brody where he’s in the midst of a conversation with Morgan Payne.
“C’mooooooon!” Morgan says in a begging tone.
Brody rubs the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. This suggests that he and Morgan have been discussing the matter at hand for awhile now and she’s not letting up.
“Morgan, I....” Brody gives a heavy sigh and turns to face her. “You said so yourself, you know nothing about this guy. Other than he’s a friend of Ryan Steele.”
“Yeeeeaaaah. But that’s just it! Ryan vouches for him!” Morgan makes a motion with her hands as if to say, ‘see where I’m going with this?’ “Listen, Steve-o.” Morgan saunters up and rests a forearm on the man’s shoulder. “Can I call ya, Steve-o?”
“I’d rather you didn’t actually.” Brody says firmly.
Morgan frowns adorably. “Fine. Brodeezy, listen.”
Steven Brody just stares at the young woman without the slightest amusement.
Morgan blinks. “Brodizzle?”
Brody stares, growing more annoyed.
“Brosephus?”
Still nothing.
“Steve-meister!”
Even still...nothing, from Brody. Morgan drops her arm off of his shoulder and sags her shoulders, rolling her eyes. “Cheese and crackers, gag me and fuck me jackhammer style, you are BORING!”
Steven Brody looks half confused and half mortified by what she just said. Morgan continues. “Mister B.” She pauses. “Mr. Brody. Look. You have faith in everyone you sign, right? I mean, you signed the Dominion!”
Brody raises his eyebrows and responds in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. “Technically, the Dominion of Pain are free agents. It’s one loop hole I got suckered into and henceforth, why I can’t really punish them for anything they do.”
Morgan lifted her head and touched her chin, then snapped her fingers. “Arright. Ya got me there.” She sighs, then and looks up at the Commissioner. “Look, okay? Ryan used to tag with this dude in the indies. They pulled more tag titles than Ron Jeremy pulls pu—“
“Alright! Alright!” Brody shoots up his hands, cutting her off. “Ryan vouches for this guy?”
Morgan gives a big nod. “Yup!”
Brody nods back, pointing a finger in her face. “And you, someone whom your father vouched for, trust Ryan Steele?”
Morgan gives another big nod. “Yuuuuuuup!”
Brody lowers his finger and sighs...then nods. “Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Next week? This guy...what’s his name?”
“Sebastian Riley Young.” Morgan affirms, before raising an index finger. “DANGEROUS...Sebastian Riley Y—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay.” Brody hurries along. “I’ll have Sebastian Young set up for a match next week, to show what he can do. I expect him to put it all out there just like everyone who wrestles under our banner. Fair enough?”
Morgan clasps her gloved hands together with a leather smack. “Thank you, Mr. B! I totally owe you a blowie for this!” She catches herself. “Whoa. I meant...not from *me*, exactly! My mouth is spoken for. But I’ll definitely buy you a hummer! Next time we tour through Pittsburgh, I know this girl named Sherry, from high school. She dances at this place called the Kitten Candy Club and man she will suck you—“
“He’s getting his match! Just get the hell out of my office!” Brody snaps in annoyance, sending Morgan hurrying off screen and out of his office.
“Good deal! Thanks, dude!” Morgan calls as she leaves, closing the door behind herself.
The camera focuses in on a mentally exhausted Steven Brody as he loosens his tie and yanks it off to open the collar of his shirt. “I’m gonna take up drinking at this rate....” He sighs, as the camera fades to black.
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The Buzzsaw defeated Julian Morrison by submission after administering the DNR, at 8:09 to retain the N*FW Television Championship.
After the match, without so much as his music playing, a wild commotion came from the crowd as "The Mangler" William Mannheim came walking from backstage and made his way down the ramp. The major focus, however, was on what he was carrying in his hand.
Reynolds: "Nicky...?"
Hanson: "...Yeah, Jim?"
Reynolds: "What the HELL is THAT?!?!?!"
The cameraman tried his best to get a shot of the object Mannheim was carrying. It just happened to be what he described to Rick Dickulous earlier: a steel folding chair, wrapped in barbed wire with the words 'FOLDING STEEL CHAMPIONSHIP' spray painted in red on both sides.
Hanson: "Ohhhh my god, you know damn well what that is! My question is, what the hell is he doing with it?!?!?!"
Reynolds: "He's heading towards the ring with it! But who's he after?!"
William Mannheim reached the ring and calmly entered, stopping to have a stare down with The Buzzsaw who stood with his title in hand, looking at the chair, silently. To the side, Julian Morrison began getting to his feet as Mannheim slowly walked towards Buzzsaw with the wire wrapped chair in hand. Buzzsaw looked ready to go one more round for the night when Mannheim suddenly turned and CRACKED Julian over the head with the chair!
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Hanson: "MYYY GOD!!!"
Reynolds: "HOOOOLY SHIT!!!"
Hanson: "He just hit Julian Morrison with that...THING...like it was nobody's business!!"
Seeing this, The Buzzsaw simply exited the ring and took his leave as Mannheim began to rain down shots with his improvised weapon on Julian Morrison, getting in about four or five good strikes in before the referee built up the courage to come in and stand between the two.
Reynolds: "This has to be payback for last week!!"
Hanson: "Julian's face is a mask of BLOOD, Jimmy!!"
Seemingly satisfied with his work, Mannheim backed off from the ref, exiting the ring and slowly back pedaling up the ramp.
"YOU WANNA PLAY WITH THE BIG BOYS?!" Mannheim yelled towards the ring. "GO BIG OR GO HOME, LITTLE MAN!"
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As The Renegades stood in the ring, staring at Alex Brody on the outside, the voice of the Commissioner could be heard, as Steven Brody walked out at the top of the ramp.
"Alex? I never wanted you to be a wrestler. I didn't want to see my kid get hurt. Or get eaten alive by this business the way so many others with kind hearts have been. But I can't run your life. And if this is what you want...then I'll back off, let you be, and not involve myself. AFTER TODAY."
"See... what those two ingrates in the ring right now did last week was unacceptable. As is their constant disrespect for the men and women who made this business what it is. So, in my one act of favoritism, I'm going to right two wrongs in one act. I went and got you the most perfect partner I could think of for this, Alex. Happy birthday, baby. Teach these assholes a lesson."
~I'm become, I'm become, I'm becoming.... I'm become, I'm become, I'm becoming....~
Hanson: "Huh...?"
Reynolds: "...Umm...Kid Cthulhu? How the hell is Alex gonna team with herself? What is this a handicap match?"
As he stepped aside, the opening of Fozzy's "Judas" began to play...and as the music kicked in, one word flashed in huge letters across the video wall: "JERICHO".
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL?!?!!?!?"
Hanson: "NOOOO WAAAAAY!!!!!"
Standing at the top of the ramp, in black leather pants, a matching vest.... and a flashing, light-up scarf, Chris Jericho gave a cocky smirk at The Renegades, before walking down the aisle, stopping only to give Alex a hug.
Hanson: "You wanna talk about sticking it to the Renegades?! What better way to do so than this?! A legend in the business! A VETERAN of the sport!!!"
Reynolds: "Ohhhhh and look at Max, LeBrun. He is LOSING IT!!!!"
Inside the ring, Max LeBrun and Candi Broduer were FURIOUS!! Max, possibly, more so than Candi as, while the girl pointed tossed insults towards Alex and Jericho, Max absolutely lost his temper and kicked the turnbuckle before shouting obscenities up the ramp towards the now absent Steven Brody.
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In what was truly, true mixed tag team wrestling, Alex Brody and Chris Jericho had an absolute WAR with Candi Broduer and Max LeBrun. Neither side had any adversity to trading blows with the opponent of the opposite gender, granted Jericho mostly egged Candi on to lay into him with her best shots, mostly hitting her with evasions and chain-counters.
It was Max LeBrun who went full on aggressive the first instance Candi tagged him in against Alex. However, when it looked like he was ready to plant Alex with the Aneurysm, Jericho launched himself over the ropes and sprung off the top rope to deliver a clothesline, saving the day. Rather than, follow up, however, he signaled to Alex, who paid homage to her currently present icon and hit Max with her best possible LIONSAULT!!
Hanson: "LOOK AT THE PROUD LOOK ON JERICHO'S FACE!!"
Reynolds: "GET 'EM, ALEX!!!"
In the conclusion of the match, Max attempted to interfere as the illegal competitor only to be intercepted by Jericho who locked him up in the Liontamer. As this was going on, Alex Brody delivered, to Candi, the Call of Cthulhu and covered her for the pinfall at 16:52, advancing her and Jericho into the semi-finals of the tournament.
Reynolds: "NOT ONLY DOES SHE TEAM WITH HER FAVORITE CHILDHOOD WRESTLER, BUT THEY *WIN* AND ADVANCE IN THE TOURNAMENT!!"
Hanson: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOUNG LADY!!! YOU DESERVE THIS!!"
Reynolds: "AND JUSTICE IS SERVED TO THE RENEGADES!!"
Hanson: "IT IS FOR NOW! YOU KNOW THEY'LL BE BACK, BUT AS OF NOW, THEY'RE OUT OF THIS TOURNAMENT AND ARE GONNA HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE STRATEGY TABLE!"
