N*FW Wrestling #18 - Atlanta, Georgia! 8/19/2018!

The camera opened up on a pair of black boots with kickpads over them, moving in place in between kicks to the air. As the angle panned up, Vincent Stone was revealed to be standing in the locker room, warming up for his match. Already dressed in his gear, the man stands, taking shots at the air with his hands and feet; a look of deep focus on his expression.

The door to the locker room opened then, without warning, as The Buzzsaw walked in, wearing his tights and mask, with a Kill Ritual t-shirt, and the N*FW TV Title slung proudly over his shoulder. "Stone." He said, that chillingly smooth, calm tone belying the beast beneath the mask. "Before this match happens... I wanted you to know - I personally chose you to have this shot tonight."

Stone stopped in his warmup, turning to face his opponent to be met in the ring that night. Turning to the man, Stone looked a little surprised by the admittance by the champion standing in front of him. "That so?" The young man asked, casually giving his hand tape a check. "Why's that?" He asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful but now that you bring it up, it kinda has me wondering."

"You impress me." Buzzsaw told him, eyes never leaving those of the other man. "You're tough, and you got boatloads of potential. So I wanna give you the chance to start making a place for yourself in the pecking order around here."

Stone lowered his hands after checking his tape. At first, the man looked as if he didn't know what to say to have a member of the feared Dominion of Pain paying him a compliment. "Huh...well...I appreciate that, man. I know I started out pretty rocky but I'd like to think I've polished off the rough edges over time." Vincent Stone glanced at the title resting on Buzzsaw's shoulder. He'd have been lying if he said he didn't care about a prize that seemed so trivial to most of the other superstars. All it took was a superstar to make the belt mean something...like the man who currently held it in front of him. Switching his gaze back to Buzzsaw, Stone couldn't help a small smirk. "For what it's worth...and this may seem a little weird. But the fan part inside of me is losing his shit right now. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're up there on a little dream list I made when I really decided to get into this business. A dream opponent list...."

"Look, man." The masked wrestler told him, slapping him on the shoulder. "The Dominion are bad-ass. We're merciless. We destroy everyone we deem deserving. But we're still people. I'm not gonna come out here like Abaddon and his moron followers, thinking I have to play some part, like I'm in a goddamn movie. So I get the fan thing. It's why I'm doing this. When I was starting out, Judas was Hardcore Champion. He gave me the chance I'm giving you. And while I didn't beat him... I impressed him enough that he took me under his wing. And that's what you need to do tonight. Whether I win, or you win... what's important is that you show people what a tough son of a bitch is hiding under the jokes and cute little promos with your girl."

"Honestly?" Stone remarked, raising his eyebrows. "That's all I really hope to do." He said, before nodding towards the title. "If I walk out of here with that, tonight, I'll consider it a bonus. But if I can earn the respect of someone I sat watching from my living room while wearing a horribly home made replica of his mask as a kid, that'll be enough for me. I impressed Liger back in Osaka...at least it seems I did." Stone looked off to the side, comically uncertain of that statement, before looking back to Buzzsaw. "But tonight, it's between you and me. I respect you, I've taken tips from watching your matches. And it's because of that respect that I'm not gonna hold back. My philosophy? If you have respect for an opponent, you give them everything you got. And tonight?" He tentatively lifted a hand in offer of a clasp. "You get 110%...."

"Goddamn right." Buzzsaw told him, clasping his hand in unity. "I want you to go out there tonight aiming to obliterate me. To make a name for yourself entirely at my expense. Because one thing the Dominion *never* does, even against each other, is hold a single thing back."

Stone nodded, looking the man in the eyes with hardened determination in his own. "You got it." Afterwards, Stone's hardened gaze turned to one of excitement. "Oh, hey! Before we go out there and beat the ever loving shit out of each other, I do have one favor I wanna ask...." He ducked off screen for a few seconds and one could hear the unzipping of his duffel bag before he popped up into frame again, holding what could only be the poorly hand made Buzzsaw mask he was talking about having as a kid. What actually made up the mask was a red mask with black lines drawn on with, now, faded permanent marker and thumb tacks glued pointed ends up around the crown of the mask itself. In his other hand, Stone held a black marker. "Would you mind signing this for me?" A laugh could be heard from the audience watching on the video wall from ringside.

Buzzsaw just stared at him, blinking for a few seconds... before grabbing the mask, and quickly scribbling on it for Stone. "Get this shit outta your system, kid." He said, not as a complaint, but as a legitimate warning. "It's endearing... but mark my words: it will hold you back."

Stone looked like a kid on Christmas as Buzzsaw handed the mask back. Putting on a serious expression, again, he looked back up from the mask to the man himself. "I hear ya. Consider it officially out." Stone said confidently, watching Buzzsaw make his way out of the locker room. After the door closed, Stone raised the mask again with another, albeit calmer, smile. He clenched the mask in his hands before sticking it back in his bag and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You got this." He told himself, giving himself a slap to the face before exiting out of the locker room himself. The camera fades to black, then, and immediately goes into the show's intro video.

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After the rolling of the intro video, we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds.

Hanson: "GOOOOOOD EVENING, ATLANTA, GEORGIA!!"

Reynolds: "GOOOOOOOOD MORNING, VIET NAAAAAAM!"

Hanson: "...What...? You know what? Nevermind."

Reynolds: "Hey! May Robin Williams rest in peace, alright?!"

Hanson: "On that, I agree, but still. Anyway! Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to New Frontier Wrestling. We are LIVE in the Dirty South and it is time to get down...and dirty...with some NFW action!"

Reynolds: "Jesus, Nicky, and you say YOU need a new broadcast partner? Mr. Brody should fire your ass on the spot."

Hanson: "Go to hell, Jimmy...."

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Vincent Stone definitely brought everything he had, to the ring, as he had promised Buzzsaw during their backstage encounter. He still proved to be unable to quite match the veteren of the Dominion of Pain and ended up tapping out to the DNR at 19:10 after a brutal match, leaving Buzzsaw the retaining Television Champion.

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*Rick Dickulous, William Mannheim, and Pitt are sitting around a round table in their dressing room. Pitt is in the process of packing a bowl in a newfound, very fat, multicoloured bong. When the shot cuts to another camera, it seems reminiscent of "That 70's Show," almost as if a camera is mounted in the centre of the table on a swivel. Pitt's face fills the screen*

"...so we figured what better way to celebrate than smokin' a few bowls? Right, Willy?"

*The camera swings around to the left, Mannheim's face now filling the screen*

"Exactly, Pitt. We ALSO decided to get you a replacement for Anne, since we know you're still butthurt...so, say hello to Rita fucking MacNeil!"

*The camera again swings to the left, Rick Dickulous' face smiling from the screen*

"This is fucking kick ass, guy! This is like Christmas! Some Shiskaberry, Rita MacNeil, my dad, and his best bud! AND the maple syrup on the flapjacks? We get to go all Saint Patrick on the Circle of Snakes! The fuck off my island, guy!"

*A lighter flicks, and bubbling can be heard. The camera swings to the left, again showing Pitt taking a massive lungfull from Rita MacNeil. He holds it in and snorts a little, passing the bong to his left. As he exhales, he coughs a bit, slapping his chest. The camera then pans to the left as Mannheim takes it and proceeds to take a hit. He talks, exhaling smoke as he does*

"See, here's the thing. They're no joke. I mean, yes, they're a joke, but I blame creative...I mean they're not pushovers. We have an opportunity here to show everyone why they should be worried when the Great White North goes into action, and I will be a fucking dead man before I let this opportunity pass. You guys feel me?"

*Mannheim passes the bong to the left, the camera swivels again to Rick. He takes a haul and exhales*

"Oh, I totally get it, buddy. Believe me, these people haven't seen anything yet! We're just gettin our feet wet *Rick points in Pitt's direction* like your mom was last night, friend!"

*Rick passes the bong, Pitt accepts it and takes a haul, pointing the bong at Rick as he exhales*

"That's kinda gross...buddy."

*Rick's voice can be heard off camera*

"I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY, GUY!"

*Pitt hands the bong to the left, as soon as Mannheim's face is on screen, he yells*

"HE'S NOT YOUR GUY, FRIEND!"

*Pitt's voice can be heard offscreen*

"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING FRIEND, GUY!"

*Mannheim stops smiling and turns to look at Pitt. The camera swivels to Rick, who is also staring at Pitt. The camera swivels again to show the cameraman's face, also staring at Pitt, jaw dropped. The camera swivels to Pitt, looking around confused*

"What? What's everyone staring at?"

*The camera swivels all the way around to Rick, who is examining some of the unchopped flower, sniffing it, squeezing it, eating a little bit even*

"Apparently this shit is so good the censors got high WATCHING us smoke it..."

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Sebastian Riley Young defeated Satoru Shade III in 6:04 with the Flatliner, coming out victorious in his debut match with N*FW.

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Backstage in the locker rooms, Morgan Payne sits on a bench, pulling on the one glove she wears on her left hand. Her green and blue eyes lift from her hands and stare off ahead of her; the camera catching a bothered look on her face. For her attire, she’s already wearing her usual black and gold trunks with custom Jordans and fishnet stockings, but tonight her top is a sleeveless cropped tee that says ‘BLACK AND STEEL’ with the word ‘steel’ done in gold font. Her Steelers designed beats headphones rest around her neck; the faint sound of Disarmonia Mundi can be heard roaring from her mp3 player.

When suddenly she hears a voice say "Hey, Hot thing whatcha doing? And its the voce of none other than Ryan Steele....

Morgan looks up, jarred from her thoughts. She puts on a smile for Ryan through the mental trouble that’s nagging at her. “Oh! Hey babe. Not much. Just...trynna keep my head in the zone for our match tonight....”

She straightens her posture as she sits on the bench and rests her hands beside her on the bench’s surface. “...I’m just trynna wrap my head around last week, still. Your match with my dad. I mean, all seemed cool an’ all until fuckin’ Max LeBrun and Tyson Law showed up and turned it into a shitfest. I just don’t get what their problem is.”

"See thats the thing, I dont know either " says Ryan.. "Hows your dad doing? ....I mean they didnt get him too bad did they?".. says Ryan very concerned.

Morgan gave a low snicker and managed a more genuine smirk. “Oh he’s fine, physically. Baby, my dad was a Hardcore Champion and wrestled a match where he slammed a guy through scaffolding and it sent ‘em both crashing down.”

She turns serious again. “It’s just that. I know dad hasn’t been the most accepting guy when it comes to you and me. It’s not that I don’t trust you babe...I just need to hear it from you, specifically, because I know the Renegades have their eye on you for some reason.” Morgan stands up and holds Ryan’s face gently in her hands, looking up at him pleadingly. “Just tell me you had nothing to do with last week.”

"I had no clue" says Ryan. "Yes, Tyson came up to me a few weeks ago and talked to me but that was it.. I actually had no clue what they were planning... Im thinking about tagging up with my buddy again since hes gonna have a tryout match this week... Maybe ill talk to Brody about bringing in 'The Fallen'... what do you think about that?" Ryan asks Morgan.

Ryan’s reassurance appears to console Morgan, at least a little and she breathes a sigh of relief. She smiles, more naturally then. “That sounds awesome! I’d love to see how yins work together as a team! Also! Speaking of team!” She hops back from Ryan and opens her arms out to show him her t-shirt. “Check it! I had it made for us seeing as we’re in the Mixed Tag Tourney! Black an’ Steel! Y’know, kinda like mah Steelers are Black an’ Gold. But in this case, it’s you an’ me. Ya know. Since your name’s Steele and...” She looks down at herself, shrugs and looks up at Ryan with an adorable smile. “I wear black a lot of the time!”

"Thats why im gonna say this with my full self behind it... Morgan ... I love you.. " Ryan says to Morgan as he looks up at her... " I was hoping your dad would have changed his mind when i gave you that car... but i hear he still has his doubts about me.... But listen.. i was thinking if you want to... we can go back to my house and just hang out and chill for a couple of days.. if thats ok.. maybe show you around Dayton, Ohio... What do you say?" Ryan suggests to Morgan.

A more relaxed smile grows on Morgan’s face as she looks up at him, arms wrapped around his neck. It’s obvious that Ryan’s words have consoled her and eased any worry she had previously. “Ryan...I love you too.” She smiles bigger. “And I would like t’see my man’s hometown. But! We gotta kick some ass and win those Mixed Tag Titles first! Think of how everyone in Dayton’d flip out with their hometown boy stepping off the plane with his first NFW belt on one arm and his fine ass Pittsburgh bitch on the other!”

"Who said anything about flying?" Ryan wonders "What about driving?" Ryan asks.. "Ive got someone bringing my new car here.... Well its not technically new but its new to me... its a 1972 Mustang Shelby Cobra with a 502 and 5 speed transmission... its also done in my favorite Football Team colors... The Cincinnati Bengals....and i thought if you wanted to.. i take you a ride in it back to Dayton plus show you my Training Facility and Program.... so what do you think?"

Morgan’s eyes bulge like saucers at the sound of the car. “THAT sounds fuckin’ amaze-balls! Besides, yeah, I could use a vacation after all the crap that’s been going on lately. I don’t think my pops would want me caught up in the middle of everything brewing up, lately with the Renegades...with Suzuki-Gun...wow. Y’know? There’s a lot o’jackasses rolling up into this fed!”

Morgan nods again. “I’m down.” She says again. “Let’s kick some ass tonight, and then when ya car gets here, we’ll hit the road.”

"Ok.. Lets do this.. " Ryan says. "But i was thinking of maybe doing a tag finisher, What do you think?" Ryan wonders.. "Maybe something to do with both of our moves combined....maybe?"
"But i did study our opponents a little.... so ive got some strategy to combat that... " Whats your thoughts Morgan?"

“Tag team maneuvers, deffo!” Morgan fist bumps him. “My thoughts? Well, speaking of our opponents, if I were ever gonna go full les, Kennedy would *absolutely* be a choice. I was also thinking, how kinky would it be if, on the way to Dayton, we pulled that car of yours over and....” She stops when she realizes, “...OH! You meant about the match!” Morgan smiles innocently. “Yeah, yeah, let’s talk strategy. I got some ideas for tandems an’ shit.” Morgan stops again when she notices the camera still lingering around.

“‘Ey! Ya nosy bastard! Stop creepin’! We’re talkin’ strategy shit here!” Morgan pie faces the camera, forcing the shot to cut out to black.

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Ryan Steele and Morgan Payne defeated El Piso Mojado and Kennedy Campbell in 10:08 when Morgan caught Kennedy off of a springboard back elbow and promptly delivered the 'Dahntahn' After Dark, advancing she and Ryan into the semi-finals of the Mixed Tag Team Tournament.

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*As 'Kaze ni Nare' plays in the arena, we see Havok leading Taichi and Minoru Suzuki to the ring, accompanied by Paul Heyman and draping a black sports towel over his head, covering it. As Havok steps through the ropes, Taichi and Suzuki stand on the ring apron and survey the crowd, with Suzuki coaxing the crowd to clap and before the crowd can yell KAZE NI NARE, the music abruptly stops and both Taichi and Suzuki step off the apron, with Havok looking around for a moment before continuing to pace back and forth menancingly staring at the entrance way. Heyman steps up to the apron and takes the mic from the ring announcer.*


"Ladies and gentlemen. My name...is Paul Heyman. And on behalf of my advocate, the King Minoru Suzuki, there has been a change to tonight's scheduled match. Due to Mr. Taichi suffering from a severe case of laryngitis, not only is he unable to sing tonight, but he will be unable to wrestle as well," Heyman says nodding to Taichi, who slowly rubs his throat as if in pain. Beside him, Miho Abe, with the most pitiful look of sadness on her lovely face, pats Taichi on the back and nods to the crowd, as if confirming Heyman's statements. She then proceeds to 'weep' on Taichi's shoulder.


"And on behalf of Mr. Suzuki, who finds it to be an insult to be placed in the ring with a pair of rookies and a turncoat, he does not feel that they are worth his time at this moment, so he will ALSO not be able to wrestle this evening," Heyman says as the crowd booes at this announcement and Suzuki flashes a disgusted scowl to everyone and to AKI, Connor, and Shelton Benjamin in the other corner.

"Rest assured gentlemen, suitable replacements have been found in your place. You will find that they represent some of the BEST imported talent Suzukigun can bring in," Heyman says with a chuckle.

Hanson: "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Reynolds: "What, Suzuki's too good to wrestle NFW talent?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...Havok's NEW partners for this evening!!!" Heyman says as he draws the crowd's attention to the rampway area where there's a brief moment of silence.

Hanson: "What? New partners?"

Reynolds: "What the hell's going on, Nicky?"

*Then suddenly, the arena system starts blaring out "Killer Bomb" and the crowd roars as Davey Boy Smith Jr. and Lance Archer stand under the titantron, give each other a double fist bump and both start making their way to the ring. Smith giving a yell to the ring, revealing that he has a black mouthguard over the top half of his mouth and Archer reaching into his pants, holding a plastic water bottle over his head, then repeating a pattern of taking a swill from the bottle and spitting it into the crowd as he walks to the ring. When he finishes the bottle, he reaches out again and repeats the action, making extra emphasis to spit at the announcers ringside and at the ref and ring announcer.*

Reynolds: "AWWW!!! I'm showered in spit!"

Hanson: "That man is disgusting!"

*Once both members of KES step into the ring, they each stand at opposite turnbuckles, with Smith flexing and yelling at the crowd and Archer pouring the remaining water over his head and giving a classic circular headbang with his hair drenched in water before spitting the rest of the water into the crowd. Both men nod at Havok and each give him a fist bump as they prepare for the match and step through the ropes, enabling Havok to start.*

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The Suzuki-Gun team of Havok and Killer Elite Squad defeated Connor K, AKI and Shelton Benjamin in 12:41 with the defeated team still putting up the fight of their lives until AKI went for a springboard hurricanrana on Havok only to have the big man muscle him up onto his shoulders and deliver a running powerbomb on his team's side of the ring to score the pinfall.

*After the match, both Suzuki and Taichi enter the ring and another beatdown commences, with the crowd booing and the bell ringing rapidly.
Suzuki rolls up his sleeves as Taichi and Havok feed him AKI. Suzuki then puts him in a rear naked choke before turning him around and giving him a GSP, as the other members of Suzuki-gun all have their thumbs pointed down in agreement.
Heyman then cordially enters the ring with the mic, as the crowd continues to boo.
"AKI? Connor K.? On behalf of my advocate, Minoru Suzuki, allow me to lay this last piece of wisdom to you:
It's true, that an enemy of my enemy is my friend.
But an enemy of Suzuki-gun, is simply one thing:
Next.
McKeesport Mafia? Do we have your attention now?" Heyman chuckles as the Suzuki-gun group theme starts to play and each member takes one or two parting shots on AKI, Connor, and Benjamin before leaving the ring.

Reynolds: "WELP! I hope the McKeesport Mafia got the message! Otherwise, things are only gonna get worse!"

Hanson: "This is just despicable! I don't think Taichi is sick after all!"

Reynolds: "How are the McKeesport Mafia gonna respond, Nicky?!"

Hanson: "I don't know, Jim. I...I just don't know...."

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“And now, please welcome Amy Connors in a special episode of ‘Outside The Ropes’.” As the narrator announces the segment, we see Amy Connors sitting center stage, smiling beautifully at the camera. Dressed for the occasion in a sparkling black dress, she greets the viewers.


“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Outside The Ropes, where we sit down with N*FW Superstars and try to get a little backstory on their motivations in the world of professional wrestling. We have a special episode tonight, folks! I’m joined here to my right by the ever so confident and impressive, Urban Gladiator, Nico Salvatore.”


Cutting from Amy, we see Nico sitting in a chair, unsurprisingly looking mint in a pair of black slacks and a neat blue button up shirt. He flashes a flirtatious smirk her way. “How you doin’, beautiful?”


As the camera went back to Amy, we see her smile is now accompanied by a shade of pink on her cheeks as she tries to maintain her professional composure. “And to my left, we’re joined by one of the hottest free agents in professional wrestling, today. He’s been causing quite a stir within the New Frontier and quite frankly, has no issue with voicing what’s on his mind. Ladies and gentlemen, the Toronto Daredevil, Max LeBrun.”


The camera then found it’s focus on Max, sitting more relaxed in his chair in more casual street clothes. His facial expression, alone, said he wasn’t too keen on being there. Off camera, a chuckling could be heard. The angle changed again to show Amy looking over at Nico, who was revealed to be the one chuckling.


“Umm, I’m sorry. Nico? Is something wrong?” Amy asks with concern in her voice, wondering if she got something with the introductions wrong.


Moving his hand from his mouth, Nico shook his head. “Nah, you’re fine, babe. It’s just funny, you said ‘hot’ and....” He makes a sly gesture towards the right side of his face where, on Max, is where the man bares the burn scars.


Amy looked stunned, and caught off guard as she turned to Max who hadn’t moved a muscle in his chair, save for the small smirk on his face. “Uhhh....” She remarked nervously. “Alright then! Shall we begin? We’ll start with you, Nico!”


Nico made a motion with his hand, telling Amy to go ahead as she turned to him. On the other side, Max casually pulled out a pack of Marlboros and stuck one in his mouth, lighting the end with a zippo from the pocket of his jacket, hanging on the back of the chair.


Off screen, a crew members voice could be heard. “Umm, sir? There’s no smoking in here.”


Max looked off in the direction of the voice and calmly raised the middle finger, before turning his attention to his cell phone.


Trying to shake off her own nervousness, Amy focused on Nico again. “So, Nico. We here at NFW, as well as the fans, have seen how impressive you are in the ring. How about you tell us a little more about yourself? You grew up in New York.”


Nico nodded, affirming her statement. “Born and raised.”


“Your father was a wrestler, as well. Excuse me - *is* a wrestler. He’s a free agent now, himself, still working with NFW, among other promotions. What was it like growing up with him in the business?”


Nico adjusted his posture in his seat and shrugged his hands. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. It could be tough. We didn’t get to see him as much as other kids saw their dad, but my sister and I, we always looked forward to watching him on TV. Mom used to bring us to see him wrestle locally at the independent venues and when he got the call to sign with NFW, back in 2005, it was like...” Nico paused for a moment to find the right wording, “...think of how a kid feels when they find out their mom or dad is gonna be in a big Hollywood movie. We were starstruck. We were so proud of him. We used to watch WWE during their Attitude Era. We’d just started watching when we were about...I wanna say three. And one thing that’ll always stand out in my mind, was watching The Undertaker at King of the Ring, throw Mankind off the top of the Hell In A Cell. We looked at dad and I said—“ Nico put on his best impersonation of his three year old self, looking shocked, “—how come you don’t do that to people?!” He sat back in his chair, laughing at the memory.


“What did your dad say?” Amy asked with an amused smile on her face.


“He just shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘I don’t do those kinds of matches.’” Nico replied, grinning. “This was before he became Doomsday, now. He’d been wrestling for a year in the indies under the name Big Bad Matt. He was part of a group called The Wrecking Crew. Of course, as you can probably guess, he was their biggest guy.”


Amy nodded, in understanding. “He is a big guy. Six foot eight?”


“Six foot ten.” Nico corrected politely, before continuing. “So, that was the ironic part about him, because when he got invited to NFW, he started talking about reinventing himself. We all got invited to fly to Chicago to see one of their shows, give dad a little bit to get a feel of it. And...after the show, we got to go into the backstage for a tour. We end up meeting Vlad Blackheart - God rest this man’s soul. He gets to talking with dad and he’s like ‘so! Big Bad Matt’s coming to the New Frontier, huh?’ And dad’s like ‘ahh, well...I kinda wanna reinvent myself, try something new.’ Vlad takes one look at him and he says ‘dude? You could be...a damn *monster*!”


[Fade to a commercial break]


Returning from the commercial break, Amy Connors smiled at the camera. “Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to NFW’s special segment, Outside The Ropes. If you’re just joining us, we’re in the middle of a head to head interview with Max LeBrun and Nico Salvatore. They’ll be facing each other later this evening to decide the number one contender for the NFW Heavyweight Championship.” Cutting to an angle to show all three individuals on the interview stage, the camera caught Amy turning to Nico, again.


“So, Nico, you told us about how your father made it into NFW, years ago. Tell us about *your* beginning in professional wrestling. What was your career like before signing here?”


Still relaxed in his chair, Nico smiled. “During my dad’s time here, during his original tenure, he became friends with a lot of the established names. BDP, Vlad, Judas, just to name a few.” Nico paused; his smile fading from his face and making the man look more somber than anything. “About a year in...Mom passed away. It hit us pretty hard, and we ended up moving to Pennsylvania. I don’t know how Dad swung it, but we landed a home right next to where BDP’s house was. So while Dad was touring with the company, we had Mrs. Payne help keep an eye on us. She’d check in on us, make sure we were fed, we’d go over and watch the shows with their kid and Andy’s kid.”


Amy nodded, making sure to confirm. “You and your sister.”


Nico nodded. “Right. Anyway! So! Getting my feet wet! It wasn’t too long after that, NFW hit their downward spiral. You know, the famous bankrupt incident. So, here’s Big Daddy Payne and Punisher Andy. We’re having this big cookout, right? Like a celebration of the good times they all had in the company. Vlad looks at BDP while we’re eating — I’ll never forget this in my life....” He pauses to laugh. “He says ‘dude, you realize we’re sitting on a load of money bigger than Jennifer Lopez’s ass, right?” Nico does what’s probably meant to be a mimic of Vlad Blackheart shrugging, “...’What the hell are we gonna do with it?’ And you can see the light bulb go on in BDP’s head through his eyes. He goes ‘bro! Let’s open a fuckin’ wrestling school!’”


“And that was when they built the Ring of Payne?” Amy inquired, smiling with intrigue.


Nico confirmed with another quick nod. “Right. So, that gets built. And, literally, the five of us - myself, my sister, Marissa, Morgan, Lara - we’re like ‘screw it! Let’s join up! Let’s do this thing!’ Dad stayed wrestling. That’s when he went free agent. So he’s touring here and there. Us kids are getting out of school for the day, and we’re hitting the wrestling school. Of course, we don’t have jobs so we pay dues by cleaning the place up and shit like that. We literally - by the time we finished high school, because none of our parents were letting us drop out just to be wrestlers - we spent so much time in that school, when we graduated high school, they all agreed, ‘you guys are ready.’ So, we started looking for bookings in local indie shows. You got the promotors like ‘oh you’re so and so’s kid?! I loved watching him! Show me what ya got!’ And really? It just took off from there. Me, specifically, I tore the indies up for about five years. I finished up a match back in New York. Hometown crowd. I walk in the back and the promotor says ‘hey, there’s someone here to see you.’ Boom! There’s Steven Brody; he says ‘man, I’ve been watching you...I think it’s time you hit the big stage, if you wanna talk business.”


“And here you are.” Amy waved a hand in Nico’s direction, presenting the man.


“Here I am!” Nico opened his arms with a cocky smirk.


“Thank you, so much, for sharing your story with us, Nico!” Turning back to the camera, Amy Connors addressed the viewers again. “We hope you enjoyed it as well, folks. Now, it’s time to hear from our other guest! He’s a fifteen year veteran of professional wrestling at just *thirty years old*! Some fans have referred to him as an uncrowned champion. *All* fans, however, know him as the Toronto Daredevil. Ladies and gentlemen, Max LeBrun. Hello, Max!” Amy turned to address Max then, putting on her biggest smile possible, albeit obviously looking nervous having reached the point of having to interview the man.


Looking down, Max scoffed softly and chuckled. “‘Other guest’...I like that.” He said with sarcasm dripping from his low tone.


“Oh...I’m sorry.” Amy replied nervously. “I-I didn’t mean....”


“No, no. It’s cool.” Max said with a venomous smile to the woman. “It’s cool, Amy. You’re not the one who wrote these introductions, right? No sweat. Let’s get this over with.”


Amy nodded slowly, managing a polite smile, still. “Absolutely. Max, most know your beginnings in NFW as the youngest member of Team Canada. But there’s one interesting fact that not many know: you had to wrestle on a parental consent waiver, isn’t that right?”


Max raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed that Amy even brought up such an unknown fact. “Color me impressed, lady. That’s right. Ya see....” He sat forward in his chair, bringing his hands together. “...I started training for wrestling when I was twelve. In most independent promotions, especially in Canada, you can wrestle a match so long as your family consents to it. They basically sign a waiver saying that they understand that this is a high risk sport and agree not to sue the promotor if their son or daughter takes a hard bump.”


Max sat back in his chair, giving a bored exhale. “So that’s how I managed to wrestle shows in the indies when I was sixteen. Now, I was seventeen - still technically a minor in a lot of states - when I came under the wing of a new coach and was invited into NFW to join the Cruiserweight division, it was called at the time. Of course, that didn’t stop the guys in my weight class from throwing down with the big boys.”


Amy nodded, actually looking genuinely interested. “I remember watching your rivalry with Kane. It still stands out as one of *the* defining rivalries of New Frontier Wrestling. I mean...your street fight, your I Quit match, and the Inferno match!”


Max gave a forced smile. “Yeah...the Inferno match....” The man adjusted the angle of his head, casually, so that his hair fell in the way of the scarring on his face. “That feud...it showed me a lot of things. Taught me a lot about the business. I took a lot of bumps against Kane that served as real eye openers.”


“Fried your ass, like a fuckin’ slice of Canadian Bacon!” Nico interjected with an amused chuckle.


Max narrowed his eyes curiously at Nico while Amy Connors turned with an inaudible request to not interrupt. Nico raised a hand, mouthing ‘sorry’ as Amy turned back to Max.


“I’m so sorry, Max, please continue.” Amy remarked. “So that was, as you said, a turning point in your - still very young - career. How exactly was that an eye opener for you?”


Max frowned thoughtfully and sighed. “See, Amy. That’s when I started to realize. Fans of ‘American Professional Wrestling’?” He made quotation marks with his fingers. “They don’t give a damn about you unless you’re putting your literal life on the line. They don’t give a shit about how skilled you are, what you have in your so called arsenal. The only thing they care about is seeing guys break their goddamn bones and tear their muscles, and ooze blood just so they can start a ‘holy shit’ or ‘that was awesome chant’.”


Swallowing uncomfortably, Amy managed to keep her smile as she opened her mouth to speak. “Well, I understand that some—“


“You wanna see real wrestling?” Max cut her off, obviously not finished making his point. “Go to the U.K! Go to Japan! Go to Canada, Amy! And, trust me, I know someone watching at home is sitting there, saying ‘oh he’s just a bitter Canadian. He’s pissed off like the Hart family was. He hates America. If you think that’s it? Get Julian in here. He’s from L.A. He’ll tell you the same thing. Nobody gave a shit about him until this guy’s old man—“ he pointed a finger at Nico, “—bled him like a pig in a match that you’d find idiots doing in their backyard on youtube or in some Japanese underground.”


“Hey, whoa. Chill out, Max.” Nico spoke up.


“Fuck you, Nico!” Max replied. “And look at Candi. She’s one of the greatest women in wrestling of this era, trained by one of the best who sadly isn’t with us anymore. Yeah, I’m talking about Chris Benoit. Or are you gonna edit that out, because God forbid I name dropped him on national television? She comes back into this promotion and the first big spot she gets is a goddamn Inferno match with Rosemary that’s now scarred her for life! Meanwhile, who’s getting the big publicity matches? Who’s getting the big pushes? These forty five, fifty year old washed up has beens who wanna keep the younger talent having to scrape and claw their way to be noticed! And if a young star does get noticed, it’s because ‘oh you’re so and so’s kid? I used to love watching them! Come on in, we’ll give ya a shot! That’s the issue I have with professional wrestling today....” Max sat back in his chair, seething.


“I understand it’s a difficult road to success in the business, Max.” Amy Connors replied. “But...when you talk about the veteran talent holding the younger talent back...your second trainer that got you *into* NFW thirteen years ago...we’re talking about the current NFW Heavyweight Champion, Scott Leroux.”


“Scott Leroux. The Tapout King!” Max made a motion with his hands as if posting a headline in the air. “Multiple time champion! Yeah, sure. He got my foot in the door. He helped me hone my technique. Polish off some edges. He taught me submission wrestling. You know what he didn’t do? He never thought to pick up the phone or hit me up on social media and say ‘hey, Max! You down for another stretch in the New Frontier?’ No, instead, just like every other one of those bastards, he saw a chance to jump back into the spotlight and soak it all in. You know what he didn’t do? He never stepped away from his self centered bubble to see how Candi was doing when she had to be rushed to the emergency room after being set on fire! That was me!” He pointed to himself. “*I* did that! I sat with Candi and held her hand through the pain while Scott was too busy adding another trophy to his resumé - with help from another guilty son of a bitch, I might add!”


Amy looked at Max as if he just decided to step into territory no one dared venture into. An almost horrified look on the woman’s face. “You’re speaking of Judas Lasher—“


“You’re goddamn right, I’m talking about Judas Lasher!” Max replied sharply. “A good ol’ boy, helping a good ol’ boy. And then you have the rest of the Dominion of Pain - more ‘veterans’ - who only seem like they’re here to hold back more upcoming talent. Yes, Amy. Before you ask I’m talking about the Circle of Snakes. You have Abaddon who takes no shit and will strike like a cobra if you get in his way. You have Chris Wolfe and Tyler Grey. Holy shit, I haven’t seen so much potential in a tag team since La Lucha. Amazing big guys? You want a good example? Take a look at Belphegor! Where’s he at? Oh yeah, he’s sidelined because the legendary Buzzsaw needed another moment of glory! Hell, the only one who really needs to be checked and knocked down a peg is this asshole’s emotional wreck of a sister.” He pointed at Nico again.


“Bro.” Nico said, forcing a laugh that said his patience was suddenly wearing thin. “Look, you got an issue with how the Dominion of Pain handles business? Take it up with Judas, but leave my sister out of it.”


“Oh, did I strike a nerve, Nico?” Max asked with feigned remorse through his anger. “She’s the *ONLY* one in that group with a title in her hand because everyone else either had it taken from them or had their shot at one squandered by some aging fuck who doesn’t know when to hang their boots up and pass the torch!”


“Look, motherfucker....” Nico sat forward. “Me and my sister, we may not talk much. We may not talk ever, anymore, really. But that doesn’t mean I won’t acknowledge that she has busted her ass harder than *any* of us to get where she is! She earned that strap. She deserves that championship and she proves it, time and time again by beating the absolute hell out of anybody that tries to take it from her! You have NO IDEA what she’s been through!”


“Oh, I *do* know.” Max replied, without missing a beat. A cruel smile formed on his face. “You think we don’t do our homework on people? How do you think we figured out who Kid Cthulhu was? You wanna sit there and talk like your family history is some golden fairy tale. How the son and daughter of a former Hardcore and Heavyweight Champion are soooo perfect! Yeah, I’ll admit; you turned out alright. But your dear, twin sister? Not so much, huh, Nico?”


Max put on a mock look of pondering, then. “Let’s see...you didn’t tell us much about your mother. She passed away right? Natural causes? Tragic accident?”


“Motherfucker....” Nico pointed at Max from his chair. “You listen to me....”


“Guys? Please—“ Amy Connors attempted to mediate the growing tension between the two before it boiled over.


“Oh, wait. That’s right!” Max said with his eyes going wide and a twisted smile forming. “She overdosed on pills because she was a fucking junkie that your daddy was trying to help get clean!”


“You son of a bitch!” Nico shot up out of his chair.


Remaining in his seat, Max looked up at the man. “But with him touring on the road so much, he stopped being around as much to monitor her addiction! Not to mention the mental stress it was putting on her of having to raise two kids by herself while her husband soaked in the love from the adoring, bloodthirsty fans!”


“Shut your fucking mouth!” Nico took a step forward, only to have Amy Connors stand up and try to get between him and Max.


Max, at this point, stood out of his chair. “And while you managed to get over it in no time, sweet little Adrianna took the loss of it so hard, she took to boozing it up as a teenager to wash away the bad memories until she couldn’t take it anymore and decided to take a razor and open up her fucking wrists!!”


“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!” Nico shouted at the top of his lungs, lunging passed Amy Connors and throwing himself right into Max. A brawl broke out between the two as Amy Connors rushed to get away from the sudden carnage while security team members rushed in to break the two apart. The last thing heard was Amy Connors frantically shouting, “Cut the camera! Cut the camera!”


The camera suddenly cuts to static before going black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Pops, I'm tellin' ya! Ryan keeps swearing up and down; he had nothing to do with last week!" In the locker room for the McKeesport Mafia, Morgan Payne follows her father, "The Punisher" Andrew Payne, as he paces back and forth, applying the finishing touches to his ring gear; currently pulling on his elbow pads.

"You expect me to believe that?" The man grumbled, still sour from the previous week.

Morgan stops, at a loss for words. "Uhh...well, yeah. It's not like I've ever lied to you before, right?" She stopped to think. "Except for the time I came home smelling like booze and I said someone just spilled it on me, even though I couldn't walk through the door straight...."

Andrew scowls at his daughter.

"Look, Pops, I mean it! I trust, Ryan!" Morgan pleaded.

"I don't." He growled. "I may have been starting to, but after last week? And before that, you factor in one of those bastards approached him?"

Morgan drops her arms, defeated in her argument and looks off to the side. "Uncle D? C'mon. I can't be the only one who thinks that was just a coincidence."

"I don't know, Mor." BDP answered, his tone making it obvious that he didn't WANT to be giving her this answer... but he had to be honest. "Shit's not really looking good, you know? Ain't saying Ryan's not a decent kid.... but he hasn't exactly gone outta his way to distance himself from LeBrun's crew, either."

One could see the look in Morgan’s eyes that said she realized the truth in her father and uncle’s words but she didn’t want it to be true. “Well...kinda hard to if they’re the ones seeking him out, right?”

“Look, honey.” Andrew said, strapping on his gloves. “I’m still willing to give the benefit of the doubt, but that doesn’t mean our guard isn’t gonna be up. If you value any of my advice at all, I’d be careful, too. Okay?”

Morgan nodded solemnly but remained silent. After a moment, she gestured to the door. “I’m gonna just...go find Mari.”

“You do that.” Andrew gave his daughter before she sulked out of the locker room. Andrew watched her go until the door closed and he looked to BDP. “I don’t like that she’s caught up in the middle of all this. Especially with how ballsy those bastards are getting.”

"I don't either, Andy. But just like Lee and I do with Marissa... you gotta let her do this on her own. She's a big girl now, man. When we're here... we gotta treat them like partners, not like our kids. So we just sit back, hope for the best... and be ready to pound the little fucker into paste if he betrays her in any way." He finished, a sadistic grin on his face.

With a final tug, Andrew fastened his second glove on and smirked to his brother. “Speaking of which...we need to send a message to LeBrun’s boys tonight. Perfect opportunity. Problem is, we gotta worry about another ambush by fucking Suzuki’s guys."

"Fuck those guys, thinking they can just walk in here like they own the place. They try anything tonight, we just knock their fuckin' teeth down their throats." BDP replied, clearly not worried about it. "TAKA and Zack together weigh about as much as one of my legs. I ain't gonna sweat them. We busted our asses for these belts. No way are we giving them up that easily."

Andy nodded, idly scratching his beard. “You’re right. And I’m not gonna let some self entitled pricks come in here and shit on all of the hard work we’ve put in for this company. I gave them their warning last week and, obviously, they either thought I was blowing smoke or Max and Julian, at the very least, forgot who they were fucking with when it comes to us.”

Here, Andy picked up his half of the Tag Team Titles and hung it over his shoulder. “Frankly? I’m not even worried about Suzuki’s boys, tonight. We sweep them out like we did in Osaka and take care of Law and Morrison.” Turning to the camera, Andy pointed, knowing they were watching. “Julian, you better bring Tyson up to speed on who we are, real fucking quick. By my watch, you’ve got about ten minutes before you walk your last mile down that ramp and get the unholy hell kicked out of you. Tyson, you especially. Real cute with the Lawbreaker last week. Stiff arm. But tonight? This old man’s got a Faded Line just for your little punk ass.”

BDP laughed then, standing up and tying his black and yellow bandana around his head, "I wanna see how bad these punks are when they're not just picking on a girl. Let's go beat these bitches asses. No catchphrases, no posturing.... tonight's about proving a goddamn point."

For once, Andrew neglected to throw out the Mafia’s catchphrase. All he did, here, was fist bump his partner. His brother. And follow the man out of the locker room without so much as a second glance back at the camera.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*"Real Bone Mother" starts to play in the arena as we see TAKA Michinoku, wearing a black Suzukigun T-shirt, 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 to the crowd as both men look at their wrist and check their imaginary watches.


"ATLANTAAAAA...NFW... Hebī-kyū taguchīmuchanpionshippu...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 confidently, giving TAKA a fist bump.


"HE...IS...WRESTLING MACHINE. HE...IS...Submission Master. HE...IS...Master of Zack Driver. 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.*


"McDeeesport Mafia...Renegades... Anata no shōrai no taguchīmu no chanpion ni sorera no hebī-kyū taguchīmu no taitoru o motte kite kudasai. COME ON...OVER....HERE...," TAKA says confidently as both men point in front of them then TAKA hands the mic back to the ring announcer as they wait in their corner.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The McKeesport Mafia defeated Tyson Law and Julian Morrison of the Renegades as well as TAKA Michinoku and Zack Sabre Jr of Suzuki-Gun to retain the N*FW Tag Team Championships after Andrew Payne drove TAKA into the mat with the 11th Hour.

After the bell, Andrew called for a microphone and signaled for the Mafia's music to be cut off as he came to stand against the ropes, facing the stage.

"HEY!!!" He shouted angrily, into the microphone. "SUZUKI-GUN!!"

Hanson: "Boy, they sound mad."

Reynolds: "They sound PISSED, Nicky!"

Andrew looked at BDP with the smallest of grins before glaring coldly up the ramp, towards the back.

"Do we...have YOUR...FUCKING...ATTENTION?!?!?!" He shouted, pointing back to where TAKA was still laid out, after ZSJ pulled him out of the ring. Andrew tossed the microphone over his shoulder as Prophets Of Rage's "Unfuck The World" resumed and the McKeesport Mafia left the ring, storming up the ramp with their titles in hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scene opens as Ryan leaves his locker room going down the hallway to Mr. Brody's office Ryan knocks on the door..."Hey Brody you in there.. I gotta talk a second with you, you got a minute?"

“Come in!” The Commissioner calls from inside the office.

Once Ryan walks in, the camera shows Steven Brody sitting at his desk, going over something on his computer. He turns from the monitor, standing to meet Ryan as he approaches and shakes his hand. “Hello, Ryan. What can I do for you?”

"Listen Man number one i wanna say thank you for letting my best friend get a tryout match, im very appreciative of it as im sure he is too but i wanna ask.. Would him and i be able to form our tag team "The Fallen" here at NFW??" Ryan asks.
"Kinda wanted your opinion and input if you will on that".... Ryan adds

Steven Brody gives an intrigued grin at Ryan’s humble display and just gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “I appreciate your approach, Ryan, but there’s no need to ask me if you can form a tag team. Let me know, sure, so I can pass it onto the booking team. But, if that’s what you and Sebastian want, then I’m all for it. Consider it done. The Fallen will join the tag team division; and, seeing as how this promotion operates, both you and Sebastian will still be able to compete for singles championships, if you so choose.”

"Thatd be great" Says Ryan.. "Yea Him and i have known each other our whole lives basically.. we were neighbors most of our lives and then we started wrestling together and won multiple tag titles in various promotions all over the globe, so yea a singles title here and there would be great.." Ryan adds

Brody nods with interest. “You know, a lot of great tag teams were practically like brothers growing up, together. That being said, I’m gonna hold you to your word and expect great things out of the two of you. Give ‘em hell, Ryan.”

"Alright Mr. Brody i will... " scene closes as Ryan goes out the door and shuts it behind him

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scene opens up inside a dimly lit locker room. Directly there, on the floor, is an old photograph of four teenage girls. Three of them are practically recognizable as being Lara Blackheart and the Iron Maidens - Marissa and Morgan Payne. The fourth in the photograph is a timid, saddened looking girl in all black with half of her face hidden. The epitome of what one might called a “troubled, emo, youth.”

As the camera pans up across the floor, we see several more photographs, more of the girls in different situations but all seeming as if there is some deep friendship in these pictures. Not all of them include the four but they do all include the fourth one mentioned. The last one we come upon, as it falls to the floor between a pair of black, buckle strapped boots is the same girl sitting on a couch with a hint of happiness on her face. She’s under the arm of a massive man with long black hair and a beard - his eyes hidden under a pair of sunglasses, while wearing a tight, sleeveless, original Dominion of Pain shirt. Sitting on the other side of the man, throwing up the metal horns, is a young boy who looks about the girl’s age. In fact, they look so alike, one would swear they were twins.

The camera pans up, revealing the Women’s Champion, Apocalypta, sifting through photos. Dropping each one when she finishes looking at it. Beside her, on the bench is an open cardboard box with other items that look as if they have been around for awhile. But Apocalypta focuses on the photographs, silently. With her makeup and contact lenses, it’s hard to gauge what her actual expression is.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock at the door, as the camera panned up to show Lara Blackheart standing right outside, dressed in black vinyl shorts and a faded, sleeveless Motley Crue tee, her hair now dyed bright pink.. "Hey. Adrianna. Got a few to talk? I swear on my dad I *only* want to talk."

To the side of the camera, Apocalypta's shoulder appeared as the woman stood from her seat and eyed Lara from across the room. She was silent at first, as she looked down at the pile of pictures on the floor and what was left in her hand. Apocalypta, then looked back over at Lara. "Funny...." She said. "Figured you'd try to get the jump on me with your friend, Silver, for once." She added, looking over Lara's shoulder as if expecting to see Shelley Silver with her. When she confirmed that Lara was alone, not like she seemed to care, she tilted her head down but kept her eyes on the smaller girl. "Fine. What do you want, Blackheart?"

"Look. I've mostly left you out of this whole revenge kick. Partly because of who you are, and partly because quite honestly I don't think you know what you're doing." She sighed, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette. "And before you argue, just remember that I've know all the stuff about you that dickhead LeBrun 'revealed' for years. I mean, does it hurt seeing you be all buddy-buddy with a turncoat like Mia? Yeah. But at least I feel like you're safe there. Mia's a fucking bitch.... but I also know when she's being sincere, and for some reason or another she's genuinely loyal to you. But Abaddon... dammit, Adrianna. If what he said about my dad doesn't bother you, then for fuck's sake think of YOURSELF here. He's a fraud. Judas is showing week in and week out that he's weak, cowardly, and is just manipulating you guys."

Apocalypta tossed down the handful of pictures still in her hand. "Blackheart, I'll be honest." She said, moving to stand in front of the girl with her arms folded in front of her chest. "I may not agree with *everything* Abaddon has said, but you know what? He was right about one thing..." She raised an index finger, "...when he came to me. And that was that *you* abandoned me. *All* of you left me behind to go make names for yourself! Even my own brother! I almost fell back into that pit that *you* all were helping me out of, because *you* all let go of the rope! Abaddon was the one who caught it and pulled me out. As for Mia? I don't know why she came to me. Maybe she saw what I'm still feeling and realized that you were the cause of it! Maybe...JUST...maybe...she finally saw you for the self centered backstabber you really are and decided to make the right decision." She straightened her posture, adjusting her hands so that they were on her hips. "So maybe Abaddon uses questionable motives. He does what's necessary to get things done. But he's far from cowardly. THIS..." She reached down to the bench and snatched up a handful of pictures from the mysterious package she had received, "...this is cowardly. Trying to get into my head with old memories that, clearly, never really meant a DAMN to any of you!" She snapped, throwing them to the floor at Lara's feet. "Just so you can try to get into my head and weaken the only family that I have left in this world. If you want a fight, Lara, you should know me well enough. All you have to do is ask. If THIS..." She reached down again and picked up the N*FW Women's Championship, holding it up beside her head so Lara could see it, "...is what you want? All you have to do...is ask.... You and the others have had something that I always wanted until I met Abaddon and the others. A family. A real...fucking...family! Now? I know that *I* have something that *you* want. All you have to do...is say the word...and after I destroy your little fangirl, Mercer...I will gladly let you try and take this from me...." She lowered the title, simultaneously raising her index finger on her other hand. "And then...you will know *exactly*...the pain...that you've all put me through...."

"Jesus... Harold... Christ... On... A... MOTORSCOOTER!" Lara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "You delusional crackhead! Are you serious right now? If you really think we all sat there like some dastardly supervillain group and went :"Hahahahahahaha let's all leave Adrianna behind and be the undoing of her! Mwah hah hah!", then holy SHITballs you're even more fucked up than I thought. We were ALL trying to make it. Not one single person stopped you from coming with us, regardless what that flaming bag of dick-tips you work for tells you. FUCK! Even that living case of crotch-rot you hang with now would tell you that if you asked her! Look, we're at the endgame now. I just came to warn you to get the hell away from that guy before you get caught in the crossfire."

Apocalypta leaned back, almost comically, at Lara’s sudden outburst. Her brow furrowed at the girl’s words and she slowly lowered her accusing finger as her expression changed to one of genuine confusion.

“But...everyone said I wasn’t ready....” She replied in a surprisingly softer tone. “Your dad...*my* dad! They said there was ‘room for improvement’...while Abaddon said I was more than ready....” Now, however, there was doubt. Audible in her voice and visible on her face, even through the face paint. “If there was nothing stopping me...then why would they say that just to me? And what was the point behind all of this?” She motioned to the pictures on the floor. Now, rather than anger and hatred, there looked to be a sense of pleading on her face. Like the confused woman was begging for answers.

"Hm. Why would an upstanding guy like Abaddon lie? Fuck my LIFE, Adrianna.... are you serious?" Lara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like a mother who can't believe the shit their child is doing. "Nobody was LEAVING you, dipshit! You were supposed to just join us once you.... you know..." she tapped the side of her head, "were all set up to handle that kinda stress. Clearly THAT message translated well."

Most people might have looked at Lara’s head tapping gesture as making light of Apocalypta’s personal turmoil. Rather than revert to anger and lash out, however, Apocalypta just stood and stared at Lara for a moment before glancing down and to the side again at the photos.

“Tch....” Apocalypta gave a defeated laugh. “I got into this to help me with the stress I was already going through.... The competition...the people...whether they love me or hate me...I didn’t care. I wanted someone to have a reason to smile at something I did.”

She lifted her gaze and turned towards Lara again. “You have a way of making someone look at things through a different perspective, though. I’ll give you that....”

"Just... if you take nothing else away from this conversation, just believe me that you REALLY want to be careful later, ok? Just... trust me on this." Lara said, before finally adding: "And for what it's worth, I miss you. Dumbass." She turned around then, walking out as she could be heard mumbling to herself, "Unbelievable! Goddamn kids these days..."

Apocalypta watched Lara go out the door. She stood there silently for a moment before slowly sitting back down on the bench, resting her championship belt in her lap. Another few seconds passed before she reached down and picked up one of the photos from the pile she threw to the floor, moments ago. As she stared down at it, her other hand came off of the title belt and slowly went over her mouth as she took in a deep breath. A shaky sigh escaped her, then, as she set the photo down and got up from the bench, slowly walking out of the locker room. Rather than following her, the camera moved forward slowly to glimpse the photograph she was just holding.

In it, there were the four girls again. The one that could only be Apocalypta, sat at the head of a table with a cake filled with candles in front of her and a colorful party hat on her head in contrast to her black vintage Dominion of Pain t-shirt and hair. To her left was a young Marissa while a young Morgan stood behind her with her arms in a hug around her neck. To her right was a young Lara, all wearing party hats with the Payne girls making goofy faces while Apocalypta was caught mid laugh as Lara placed a playful smooch on her cheek.

The shot faded to black, still focused on the picture....

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jay White and Mia Hayashi advanced into the semi-finals of the Mixed Tag Team Tournament when Jay White delivered a superkick to Marissa, causing her to stumble back and knock Kota Ibushi off of the ropes. He then slid out of the ring before the ref could see, as he was the illegal man, allowing Mia to lift Marissa onto her shoulders and deliver the...

Reynolds: "Here it comes, Nicky! Get ready!"

Hanson: "This always makes my neck hurt!"

Reynolds: "SUPREEEEEEEEEEEME....."

Reynolds/Hanson: "...THUNDEEEEEEERRRR!!!!!"

Hanson: "1!!!...2!!!...3!!!! Mia Hayashi and "Switchblade" Jay White are the fourth and last team to advance to the semi-finals!! They'll be facing Alex Brody and Chris Jericho next week!!!!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As "Circle of Snakes" by Danzig began to play, Abaddon appeared on the stage, and quietly, quickly led Apocalypta, Chris Wolfe, and Tyler Grey to the ring, grabbing the microphone before entering the ring himself.

While all of them looked the same as they typically did... one needed only to look into Abaddon's eyes to see the price he'd already paid to the torment of Judas Lasher and The Dominion. Where there was once calm, there was now panic. Where there was once confidence, there was now doubt. Where there was once arrogance, there was now paranoia. Running a hand through his hair as the crowd mockingly chanted Lasher's name, Abaddon scowled beneath the face paint that now hid not his identity, but the fragile pieces of a man falling apart.

"ENOUGH! Judas Lasher is trying to destroy everything I've built, and it stops RIGHT NOW." He held up what appeared to be a legal document of some sort, that arrogant smirk finally beginning to reappear. "In my hand I hold a very special restraining order. One that states, in no uncertain terms, that if Judas Lasher, Doomsday, The Buzzsaw, The Crimson Sabre, LeeAnn Viskan, or Lara Blackheart physically assault me in any way until Highway To Hell, they will be fired permanently from N*FW! No more will I be the victim of Judas Lasher's mind games. No more will I be cost opportunity after opportunity at his hand. No more w-"

"AVE.... SATANAS"

He was cut off then, by the opening to Venom Inc's "Ave Satanas", as Judas Lasher walked out onto the stage, dressed in his black suit with red tie, hair tied back and an almost amused grin on his face. "A restraining order. The big, bad, eeeeeeeevil leader of The Circle of Snakes is trying to defeat his nemesis with... a restraining order."

"You can't get out of this one, Lasher!" Abaddon yelled from the ring, coming slightly unravelled at the sight of his tormentor. "Come on! Come down here and try something now!"

"Tsk tsk." Lasher chided, barely able to hide how comical he found the entire situation. "I would almost feel bad for anyone else, I really would. But you brought all of this upon yourself. And if you really... TRULY.... believe I have to touch you to continue with my destruction of you? Then you are indeed even more stupid than I initially thought. For today? I will continue my campaign not with actions, not with threats.... but with words. And those words? Are Matthew 26:21"

"What the hell does that mean? What, now you're quoting the BIBLE?" Abaddon shouted, being held back by Grey and Wolfe, who kept trying to remind their leader of the restraining order and it's purpose.

"I may be a Satanist, but that does not mean I can't appreciate the power and the glory of the Christian religion or it's tomes. In fact... some passages, like the one I mentioned? Can be downright prophetic. But don't take my word for it. In this day and age, everyone has a smartphone of some kind... please, I invite you to look up the passage I spoke of."

He stepped back, looking damn proud of himself, as Abaddon scrambled to get someone at ringside to give him their phone, finally snatching the timekeeper's iPhone from him and sliding back into the ring. He stood these, clearly typing it into a search engine, before finding it and reading it aloud. "And as they did eat, Jesus said, 'Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me'." The moment he read the words, his eyes widened, and the crowd cheered, catching on to what was going on. As Abaddon frantically grabbed Apocalypta, then Wolfe, then Grey, screaming at each of them as he tried to understand what was going on... the crowd exploded as Belphegor made his return, sliding into the ring with snakelike fluidity, coiling to strike.

Hanson: "OH MY GOD, JIM!!!"

Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL?!?!"

Hanson: "BELPHEGOR!!! IT'S BELPHEGOR!!! HE'S BACK!!!!"

As Abaddon turned around, the big man charged at his now former leader, spearing him with such force that it knocked him out on impact. Belphegor stood over the man, glaring at the other three, before peeling off his t-shirt to reveal a Dominion of Pain tank top beneath it.

Hanson: "OHHHHHH!!!! WHAT?!?! HE JUST SPEARED ABADDON'S SOUL OUT OF HIS BODY!!!"

Reynolds: "AND HE'S WEARING A DOMINION SHIRT!!!! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!?!"

Hanson: "YOU JUST HEARD WHAT JUDAS LASHER HAD HIM READ!!! BELPHEGOR JUST BETRAYED HIS MASTER!!!!"

As Belphegor left the ring, walking up the ramp towards his new leader, Judas cleared his throat before speaking again. "I'll see you at Highway To Hell." Pausing, he took on a mocking tone as he finished. "Oh, and... Abaddon? Good work with that restraining order. Really."

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The Great White North defeated the Circle of Snakes by pinfall at 6:13 when Pitt pinned a still dazed Abaddon, after he and Willy hit the Trip to Hell. Notably, as Pitt went for the pinfall, neither Chris Wolfe nor Tyler Grey seemed to hesitating in moving to try and breakup the pin. Only when the Great White North had taken their leave did the tag unit for the Circle of Snakes slowly enter the ring and start to inaudibly converse over what they just witnessed. After a moment, they slowly moved to pick Abaddon up onto his feet.

Outside of the ring, however, Apocalypta ceased to even enter with her brethren. The Women's Champion stood by the apron, looking on in confusion at their leader. After a moment, even as Wolfe and Grey turned towards her, the woman turned and began to aimlessly walk up the ramp with her title hanging at her side as she disappeared through the entrance curtain.

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The next scene opens up on Commissioner Steven Brody, standing in front of his desk in his office. A professional smile on his face, as always during his announcements, he greets the crowd as he begins.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to start off, first and foremost by thanking each and everyone in attendance in our audience tonight. I'd also like to thank those who spent their evenings watching at home and who tune into our monthly special events. That being said, as most of you know, in two weeks, we will have our summer's end special, Highway To Hell. There, we will have the finals to the Mixed Tag Team Tournament, thus crowning our first N*FW Mixed Tag Team Champions. However, after that, the next journey begins. I dare say it will be NFW's biggest journey as we start the road...to Wrestle War."

A pop from the crowd is heard, mainly from the long time fans who know what Wrestle War is all about. Brody smiles, as he can hear the roar from the audience outside.

"Now, Wrestle War itself doesn't take place until January. However, with the rebirth of New Frontier Wrestling,...we're starting something new. Next month, after Highway To Hell, we will begin an annual event that will put our roster's best talent to the true test of skill and endurance. It will also pay tribute to a beloved legend who is, sadly, no longer with us - one of the true pioneers of New Frontier Wrestling - Vlad Blackheart. The event will be known as the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament. This tournament will feature twenty of our best chosen superstars, separated into two blocks of ten. In those blocks, they will compete against each other for points in a round robin series of matches. The winners of each block will meet one another in the finals and face each other to be deemed the winner of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial. For their hard fought efforts, the winner of this tournament, each year, earns a contract to meet the N*FW World Heavyweight Champion for a championship match at Wrestle War in January. Participants for the tournament are being chosen, as I speak to you now. The complete list of superstars chosen to compete in the tournament will be announced at our weekly broadcast, following Highway To Hell. Until then, I bid you all a good evening and hope that you enjoy the main event."

The camera cuts from Brody's office, back to ringside, preparing for the final match.

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The second Max LeBrun stepped through the ropes, Nico Salvatore rushed him with an angry onslaught of fists and elbows, backing him into his corner as the referee signaled for the bell.

Hanson: "HERE WE GO, JIM! NICO'S NOT GONNA WAIT!!!!"

Reynolds: "MY GOD, HE IS FUMING, NICKY!!!"

Hanson: "THIS MIGHT NOT EVEN BE A MATCH! MORE LIKE A FIGHT! IT'S LIKE A CONTINUATION OF WHAT WE SAW DURING THEIR INTERVIEW!!"

The crowd went wild as Nico and Max, at first, threw all wrestling out the window and simply wailed on each other in the corner until the referee was able to separate them and get Nico back. As he relented, the Urban Gladiator threw out his arms to the side, shouting across the ring at Max.

"C'MON, MOTHERFUCKER!!! LET'S GO!!!"

With a twisted smile on his lips and a hint of blood already from his nose, Max removed his entrance jacket and pushed the referee out of his way, beginning to circle the ring with Nico for their match to *truly* begin....

The rest of the match after that saw the two return to their actual wrestling techniques. Both men engaging in technical holds and lockups combined with vicious strikes while Max LeBrun also threw in his mixture of springboard attacks and stiff kicks. For the most part, it was clear that Nico was the strongest, physically, out of the two as he powered out of most of whatever hold Max tried to lock him into.

In the conclusion of the match, Max went down into the corner from an elbow delivered by Nico and was slow to react in getting up. The referee had to force Nico back in order for him to check on Max to make sure he was alright. The leader of the Renegades blinking his eyes and shaking his head as if he were seriously dizzy but holding onto the referee and refusing to let him stop the match.

Reynolds: "I hate to admit it, but I might actually be concerned for Max, here. He seems like he could be hurt."

Hanson: "Yeah no kidding, Jim. He--WAIT A DAMN MINUTE!!!!"

As Hanson exclaimed, Julian Morrison slid into the ring from ringside and poised for an attack. Confused by the portion of the crowd telling him to watch out, Nico Salvatore turned around right into a sudden SUPERKICK.

Hanson: "OHHHH!! A SUPERKICK BY MORRISON!!"

Reynolds: "Wait, Nicky! Max!!"

As soon as Julian slipped out of the ring, following the kick, Max hopped to his feet and pushed passed the ref as Nico stumbled around in his direction. Delivering a stiff kick to the midsection, he hooked his arms, lifted him up and planted him with the Aneurysm, scoring the pinfall at 25:01.

Hanson: "OH, GODDAMN IT!!! THEY DID IT AGAIN!!!"

Reynolds: "THESE SONS OF BITCHES ARE WORSE THAN THE TONGANS IN NEW JAPAN!!!"

Hanson: "I might have to agree with you there! You gotta be KIDDING me!!!"

"Your winner...and #1 Contender to the N*FW World Heavyweight Championship...the Toronto Daredevil....MAAAAAX LEBRUUUUUUUN!!!!"

As "Top of the World" by Five Finger Death Punch blared throughout the arena, Tyson Law and Candi Broduer came out to join Julian and Max in celebration, Max high fived them all before pulling Candi in for a hug. The four of them all acting as if they'd just hit some kind of jackpot.

Hanson: "I can't watch this. These guys make me sick...."

Grinning wickedly with his arm around Candi, Max leaned into the camera, giving his 'pull-the pin-' hand gesture as the shot faded to black....