Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Sept 26, 2018 6:44:43 GMT -8
The show opens in silence as an image of Vlad Blackheart hoisting up his first Heavyweight Championship appears on the screen. Beneath it, the text reads:
~In Loving Memory Of Vlad Blackheart~
~Jan. 14, 1975 - May 5, 2016~
After the image fades away, the sound of Saliva's "Ladies And Gentlemen" is heard as the tournament logo explodes onto the screen and we hear the announcer's thunderous voice list the A Block competitors.
As the camera cuts to the ringside area, showing the amped up crowd, Nick Hanson and James Reynolds welcome those in attendance, in addition to those watching via NFW's streaming network.
Hanson: "We've had an exciting tournament, thus far, folks. Hell, we've had exciting shows in general! Great block matches, great tag matches! Social media is buzzing, the hashtags for the event are trending!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, I can only imagine how happy the Blackheart family is with how things are turning out thus far! And we've only really just begun! We've got so much more in store for the fans!"
Hanson: "Perfectly said, Jim. We're about ready to kick tonight off with the preliminary tag matches but let's take a look back at backstage last night with one of our post-match interviews from B Block!"
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The camera cuts to a backstage segment from last night's B Block night.
[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
As Disturbed's "Haunted" is heard out in the arena, The Rebel Rousers - Teddy Morse and Chase Evans - slowly, almost shamefully, come walking back through the curtain. Morse idly holds the back of his neck while Evans rests his hands on his hips. Both men, sweat soaked and looking disgruntled at the outcome of their tag match against the Fallen.
"Fuck, man...." Teddy Morse pants as he and Chase Evans come to stand in front of the backdrop. "GODDAMN IT!!" He finally loses it and slams both hands against the promotional backdrop.
"Whoa, hey!" Evans says, looking back at his partner. "Calm down, man. It's all good."
"My ass, it is!" Morse turns and looks up at Evans with frustration in his eyes. "What the HELL are we doing wrong?! We rolled up in this company, shit hot!" He chops one hand down into the opposite palm. "Yeah, we don't have a perfect streak, but we were still kicking ass! Now we come back...we get the crap kicked out of us by Godzilla and King Kong, then we come here and get our asses handed to us again by those sons o'bitches!!" He gestures out in the direction of the arena.
Evans raises his hands in a calm shrug. "We got beat by the tag team champions, brother. The champs!"
"Yeah!" Morse snaps back. "Who won them by fucking cheating, because that's the only way they can get a W!"
"Alright, look man, look." Chase grabs Teddy by the shoulders and holds him still. "Cool...yer fuckin'...jets. It sucks, I know. I ain't exactly happy about it, either. We were off our game, tonight, obviously. We can get back on it. We're booked for another match tomorrow. Let's just go wash up, cool our heads, grab somethin' t'eat, and go over a game plan. Cool?"
Teddy Morse rolls his eyes. "Game plan. Right. We don't need no game plan, man. We need to just start straight up beating the shit outta motherfuckers!" He throws Chase's hands off of him and brushes passed him, moving off camera as Chase turns to watch him go. Off in the direction Teddy walked, we hear him yell, "FUCK!!!"
Chase Evans shakes his head, though with a look that says he understands the man's frustration before he turns to the cameras. "Hey, y'all have a good evenin', alright? Sorry about that." He says, reaching out to shake a couple of hands before following his partner, calling off screen. "Hey, Teddy! YO!!"
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In the opening preliminary matchup, The McKeesport Mafia defeated Tanga Loa and Bad Luck Fale by pinfall in 17:02 after BDP delivered the Bukakke Blast to Fale.
Hanson: "Well, they've both yet to make it on the board as far as the tournament goes, but Big Daddy Payne and The Punisher just showed the world why they are STILL one of the baddest tag teams this sport has ever seen!"
Reynolds: "And you've gotta believe, Nicky, that they're both sending a message to Tama Tonga with this victory!"
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
With the sound of Hollywood Undead's "Renegade" booming out in the arena, Marissa Payne and Vincent Stone emerge through the curtain and approach the interview area. Marissa Payne holds up a hand, silently blowing off the cameras as she walks by without so much as slowing her pace. Behind her, Vincent Stone stops in front of the backdrop and watches her go with shame on his face.
"Vincent Stone, your thoughts on the match?" One reporter says from behind the cameras.
Stone sighs and idly rubs his jaw. "What can I say?" He shrugs, his shoulders. "We got our asses kicked. I feel like I let Marissa down." He shakes his head, slowly beginning to pull the tape off of his hands. "It caught me off guard, a little, to be honest. She came to me the other day -- when everyone else was at the press conference...." He slides one elbow pad off and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face. "...She asked me to be her tag team partner for this match." He pulls off the other elbow pad and bunches them in one hand, looking at the reporters. "Does anyone here actually watch our broadcasts?" He catches one reporter's response off camera, pointing in that direction. "You? So yeah...you know." He looks around at the other reporters. "I was thrilled that she came to me for this...but we came up short. I don't know what else to say. That's all I've got."
Stone raises a hand to halt the interview and moves on, heading towards the locker rooms.
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With a white fade transition, the shot jumps forward to the moment that Max LeBrun and Serena Frost come walking through the curtain after celebrating their victory in the ring. Max is chuckling triumphantly as he and Serena stop in front of the reporters.
"Ohhhh, Marissa...Marissa, Marissa.... I told you." He raises a finger, waving it in front of the camera, making a "tsk tsk tsk" sound. "I told you and everyone else...that we weren't fucking around. We came here with a goal in mind! You wanted Serena and I to avenge the beating that got laid onto your bestie. You got what you asked for! You have nobody to blame but yourself. Hell, you should be *ashamed* of yourself! You actually had me curious. You said a tag partner of your choosing. I was half expecting another one of your old man's buddies in their twilight years to come walking through that curtain, but no. Instead, you brought out your family's biggest fan boy. A loser who's not even on my level and never...fucking...will be!" He says this, leaning into the camera before breaking into that cold, wicked smile of his.
"You owe the man an apology. But you know what? I do, too." He raises his hands in surrender. "Stone? I got a little dirty out there. I took a cheap shot. Fair enough. So, let me make it up to you. I want you to watch your other all time favorite. A guy who you apparently idolized enough that he was your motivation to come into this sport. I want you to watch me expose Buzzsaw for the fake that he is, tomorrow, when I beat his ass in A Block. Buzzsaw? Buzz? Can I call ya, Buzz? I'm coming for your ass, tomorrow. And I know we're gonna tear it up. You're known for your kicks." He pointed at the camera then thumbed to himself. "You're one of the people who knows what I can do. Me? I'm not just a wrestler. I was earning belts of a different kind before I decided to step into wrestling. So come at me with everything you've got. Because I'm sure as shit not looking to just simply pin you on the mat. I'm gonna show you why *I* am the champion. Why *we* are the true force to be reckoned with. The Renegades. Not the Dominion of Pain. *We* are the real...fucking...deal. We've proven that time and time again and we're gonna keep proving it. Don't believe me? We're fighting champions. We'll take on whoever thinks they can step up and take what we've earned. I've got eight more guys lined up who think they have what it takes to take this from me!" He raised the World Heavyweight Championship up next to his head. "Eight more guys who think they're be able to pull off what Chris Wolfe did and earn the right to challenge for this, before WrestleWar even gets here. So, come at me with everything you fuckers have. Hell, come at any of us! My boys Ryan and Sabastian'll put any tag team on their asses! Doesn't matter if it's after the tournament, or during. Come and try us. We look forward to it...."
Grinning, Max LeBrun steps off camera and leaves the scene. The camera focuses in on Serena Frost, standing with her arms crossed and a cold, careless look on her face. She looks at the reporters...and silently follows after Max....
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The Unwanted defeated Lara Blackheart and Shelley Silver by pinfall in 22:08 when Adrianna Salvatore countered a running maneuver from Lara with a pop-up, sitout powerbomb.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
Ayumi Nakamura's "Kaze Ni Nare" is heard out in the arena as Andrew Payne comes backstage, through the curtain, pulling the straps of his gear down around his waist. Sweat drips from his face as he stands in front of the backdrop. He lifts his face towards the cameras to reveal he already has a bruise under one eye developing, as well as blood under his nose. There's also a cut on his bottom lip. He's absolutely exhausted...but he wears a small grin of approval on his face.
"Man...." Andrew says, looking down and shaking his head. "I haven't had that much fun in a singles match in years...."
"You enjoyed the match, despite the loss?" A reporter asks.
"Oh, yeah." Andrew replies, looking up with sincerity on his face. "Ya know? It reminded me a little of thirteen years ago...2005...." Andrew touches the blood under his nose and looks at it, chuckling again before looking back at the cameras. "I lost the Hardcore Championship to Mr. Gannosuke. But I wasn't bummed out over it. We had a hell of a fight and the better man of the night won. Suzuki's a tough son of a bitch. And ya see, Minoru?" Andrew looks at the camera, addressing Suzuki directly for the future. "That's what I don't get about you. You are tough as nails...you're mean as shit...you are a legit...fucking...BADASS!!!" He shouts the last word at the top of his lungs. "But I see, from time to time, you have your crew come in to pull some underhanded shit to help you win matches. Obviously, you didn't do that tonight. Let's face it, you couldn't. I get that. But you reminded the world, even at fifty years old, that you are not to be taken lightly. You're a fighter. You're a warrior. It's just a damn shame that you've aligned yourself with a fat little weasel like Paul Heyman, who makes Bobby Heenan look like a saint. I'm not gonna sit here and come up with excuses as to why I lost tonight. I faced one of the greatest wrestlers to ever live and he took it to me. It's in the past. This tournament is about paying respect to the man who had an eye for the future."
"Your thoughts going into your next block match?" A reporter asks.
Andrew Payne's grin falters some. "My thoughts?" He raises his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes. "I don't think I need to say what I'm thinking for my next match. I said everything in the interview with Amy Connors. Tama? I can't decide whether you're really ballsy, or a complete fucking moron. You either have the balls to pull the shit you do, knowing what's gonna come of it, or you do these things thinking that you're gonna be able to slip away. All I have to say is, if it's the latter, you've fucked yourself. You went and earned the ire of both me and D and now, you took the spot in the tournament of the other guy who was headed for two ass kickings because he was in the same block as us. Well, now, that's you. You're stuck in this tournament. You're in B Block with the McKeesport Mafia, and on the 27th, you've got your second match against me. And you know what? Call me selfish, but seeing as you decided to Gun Stun my only child, her uncle may not even get a piece of you. He and the rest of your opponents may get bi's because it'll be a miracle, if your sorry ass can even walk out of this fucking arena on Thursday."
"Pops!" A female voice calls off screen, growing closer. "Pops!" Andrew Payne turns in time to see his daughter, Morgan, appear beside him with concern on her face. "Pops! Y'alright, there?!"
"I'm fine, baby." Andrew rests his hands on her shoulders, before she leans in and hugs him. He rests one of his large, gloved hands on the back of her head. "Hell, I'm more than fine. That match, just now, got my blood pumping!"
Morgan steps back, comically looking up at her father in surprise. "Wha? Y'get her head rocked by the meanest guy in the world and y'get amped up about it?"
"Morgan, sweetie." Andrew pats her on the head. "When you make a name for yourself beating the shit out of everyone who steps into the ring with you, there's an odd sense of satisfaction when you finally meet the guy who can give you the fight of your life. Remember that." Andrew chuckles a little and punches the inside of his other hand. "DAMN, I FEEL YOUNG AGAIN!!!!" He shouts as he walks away from the interview area and towards the locker rooms.
Morgan watches him go with a hilarious wide eyed look and turns to the cameras. "Man's off his fuckin rocker, yeah?" She says, shaking her head and hurries off after her father.
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The Rebel Rousers defeated Satoru Shade III and Colt Shields by pinfall, in 10:39 when Chase Evans pinned Shade after he and Teddy Morse delivered the Upchuck to him.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
As Tama Tonga approached the bakcdrop, his already irritated expression turned to one of outright anger as one of the reporters in the room called out, "How's it feel to come to this promotion bragging about your greatness, only to lose your first singles match to EVIL?"
Tama walked over, as close to the reporter as he could before security would intervene, and sneered. "Really? You gonna sit there in your cheap-ass suit and tie and ask me that? Who the fuck is you? Bitch-ass motherfucker, you ever even been in that ring? No, you bet your ass you haven't. So don't sit there talkin' your shit like you somebody important."
He pointed out to the reporters and photographers, sneering. "Don't even worry about tonight. Worry about ya boy The Punisher, cos he's next. I'm gonna bust that shithead up even worse that I busted up his skank-ass little girl. Fuck all y'all. G.O.D. out. Let's go, bruh." He said, flipping everyone off as he walked out with Tanga Loa.
Following close behind, Tanga Loa made the cunning lingus gesture at the cameras before grabbing his crotch and thrusting his hips forward, before leaving with Tama.
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The shot cuts back to ringside as the crew prepares everything for the block matches scheduled for the night.
Hanson: "Alright, Jim! So...prelim matches are over. It's time to get ready for the block matches."
Reynolds: "I'm pumped!"
Hanson: "Me, too. So, let's look at the scores for A Block, so far. As it currently stands: with 2 points each, we have -- Shelton Benjamin, Chris Wolfe, Buzzsaw, Kane and Nico Salvatore. Matt Klazzic, Rick Dickulous, Max LeBrun, Zack Sabre Jr and Kota Ibushi came out of their first matches with losses. They have 0 points. Now, that's about to change for one of those two gentlemen, here in a few moments. We're kicking off A Block tonight with Matt Klazzic - returning from an intentional hiatus. He took some time off. Worked on his technique. We heard him say, during the press conference, he's taken to King's Road style wrestling. It's a vicious style and we've seen him put it to use, so far. He takes on Rick Dickulous who has a pretty nasty style of his own."
Reynolds: "RIck has a pretty nasty mind, and I don't mean it in the violent sense."
Hanson: "Well, he *is* violent, Jim. But I get what you mean. Anyway, folks! That's where everyone sits in A Block. Let's get things rolling!"
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Rick Dickulous defeated Matt Klazzic in their block match by pin, in 15:11 after hitting the Misery Whip.
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Max LeBrun and Buzzsaw absolutely took it to each other in their block match against one another. While Buzzsaw dished out his arsenal of vicious kicks, LeBrun answered back with devastating kicks of his own.
Reynolds: "Look at this, Nicky, even Buzzsaw's starting to look rocked!"
Hanson: "He and LeBrun definitely look like they're on equal ground, I have to admit!"
The match reached a stand off, at one point, where both men stood in the center of the ring. Buzzsaw brought his leg up with a loud *POP* as he connected with a kick to Max's ribs.
Max clutched at his midsection but refused to leave his feet. Instead, he appeared to fight through the pain and got back in Buzzsaw's face, pressing his forehead against the man's and shouting half-audible obscenities.
"--all you got, motherfucker?!"
Buzzsaw palmed Max's face and shoved him back, prompting an "Oooooooh" from the crowd before he gestured for Max to bring it on. Max answered back with a sharp, calculated taekwondo kick to the midsection. While Buzzsaw didn't buckle, he stepped sideways slightly, walking in a slow circle and pumped his fists down beside him, only to turn back, nodding to Max who beckoned back at him with both hands.
"COME ON!!!!"
Hanson: "The champ is saying he wants some more!"
Reynolds: "Yeah, and Buzzsaw's gonna give it to him! Look out!"
*SMACK*
Crowd: "OHHHHHH!!!"
The crowd reacted as Buzzsaw struck with another bone crunching kick to the ribs. Clutching his midsection, Max stumbled back and grabbed onto the top rope for support.
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD, did you hear that?!"
Reynolds: "I did, Nicky! Holy shit! How is he still standing?!"
Buzzsaw remained where he stood, visibly calling to Max and beckoning him to throw something back at him. Pushing away from the ropes, Max wore a look of burning determination on his face as he stepped back over to Buzzsaw and poised himself, setting up for his next kick.
Reynolds: "Ohhh, this looks like it's gonna hurt."
Hanson: "He's a third degree black belt in taekwondo, Jim. These kicks can break ribs!"
*SMACK*
Max snapped his leg up, delivering a kick to Buzzsaw that finally appeared to have some effect on the TV Champion. Bringing up an arm to his midsection, Buzzsaw nodded again before regaining his composure. Max, with an arrogant smirk on his face, was waiting with a slap across Buzzsaw's face as soon as he turned back.
Crowd: "OOOOOOOH!!!"
Hanson: "Oh now, c'mon. That was low. No need for that!"
"C'mon, motherfucker! One more!" Max yelled inside the ring.
Buzzsaw responded with another kick that caused Max to keel forward. He immediately followed up with a kick to the leg, and another kick, this time on the taped shoulder of Max. Max LeBrun finally dropped to his knees, clutching his arm.
Reynolds: "Oh man, he hit that arm!"
Hanson: "You see the tape, you see the sleeve cover. Max has had surgery on his bicep. He's had his shoulder dislocated. His opponents know *that's* how you get his number! That's how you take it to the Toronto Daredevil. You go for that arm! He wears that sleeve and the tape to protect his arm in the ring but to his opponent, it's a target saying 'Strike Here!'"
Announcer: "Nineteen minutes have passed! One minute remaining!"
Reynolds: "Oh god, we're at the one minute left mark! These guys need to dig deep!"
Down on his knees, Max clutched his arm and looked up at Buzzsaw, forcing a smile and visibly laughing despite the pain. He then, clearly mouthed---
"Fuck you!"
--before SPITTING up in Buzzsaw's face. The crowd oooh'ed again as Buzzsaw calmly wiped the spit off of his mask and Max beckoned him to go for the next kick. Buzzsaw reared back and snapped his leg up....
But Max LeBrun dropped forward, causing Buzzsaw's leg to go over him. Max popped up and waited for Buzzsaw to turn around, positioning for his coup de grace of kick maneuvers.
Hanson: "Here it comes! Can he hit it!"
Reynolds: "SLAPSHOT!!"
Max went for the Slapshot but Buzzsaw caught the foot and threw it down, going for a superkick of his own. Max caught Buzzsaw's foot and spun him around. As Buzzsaw rotated around, facing Max again--
*SMACK*
Hanson: "THERE IT IS!!!!"
Reynolds: "SLAPSHOT, RIGHT ON THE MONEY!!!"
Announcer: "Thirty seconds remaining!"
Buzzsaw stumbled back, ricocheting off of the ropes and right back towards Max who grabbed hold of him, setting up for the Anuerysm, but Buzzsaw pried his arms free and caught Max by the legs, yanking his feet out from under him. Max landed on his back, rolling away from Buzzsaw who came rushing at him. As Max came back up on his knees, Buzzsaw went for his own finisher.
Hanson: "BUZZSAW KICK--WAIT, NO!!"
Max, however, leaned back, letting the kick sail over his head. This positioned him, unfortunately, for Buzzsaw to simply drop down and lock his arm over his neck.
Reynolds: "DNR!!!!! DNR, NICKY!!!!! HE'S GOT THE DNR LOCKED IN!!!!"
Hanson: "ARE WE GONNA SEE THE WORLD CHAMPION GO 0 AND 2 IN THIS TOURNAMENT?!"
Announcer: "Fifteen seconds remaining!"
Reynolds: "Buzzsaw needs to put everything he's got into that hold!"
Hanson: "Oh, you know he always does!"
Announcer: "Ten seconds!"
Hanson: "Time's running out!"
As Buzzsaw wrenched back on Max's neck, throwing his legs up around the man's waist, Max fought and struggled to get out of the maneuver. Digging his gloved fingers against Buzzsaw's arms as much as he could.
Reynolds: "C'mon!!!!"
~5!!~
~4!!~
~3!!~
~2!!~
~1!!~
~DING DING DING!!~
Hanson: "That's the bell!! And referee James Greer's gonna call for the break!!"
As this was being said, the referee anxiously motioned for Buzzsaw to release Max LeBrun from the DNR hold. As soon as he did, Max rolled away, struggling to catch his breath as Candi Broduer pulled him off of the apron and helped him to his feet, pouring a bottle of water over his head.
Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, this match has reached the twenty minute mark and is, therefore, a draw. Each competitor will recieve one point towards their score!"
Reynolds: "A DRAW!!!!"
Hanson: "I don't believe it!!!"
Reynolds: "HOOOOOOOLY CRAP!!!!"
As the referee handed Buzzsaw his TV Championship, Candi Broduer entered the ring to snatch the World Heavyweight Championship from the ref and brought it over to hand to Max before the two slowly made their way up the ramp, leaving Buzzsaw to stare back at them from the center of the ring.
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Kota Ibushi defeated Chris Wolfe by pinfall in 10:37 after delivering the KamiGoye.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
Backstage, members of Bullet Club Elite applaud and voice their approval in front of the backdrop and cameras as Kenny Omega appears through the curtain. Arms out, soaking up the praise as he steps in front of the cameras.
"Whoo!" He says, wide eyed, shaking his head. "I have to hand it to---, I need some water...."
"Get the guy some damn water!" Adam Page yells.
A few seconds go by before Page is given a bottle and hands it to Kenny who anxiously takes a long swig.
"I have to hand it to NFW. You guys...are some tough competition. I see, now, why New Japan partnered with you. You guys...know how to bring it. William Mannheim...can I call ya Willy? I'm gonna call ya Willy. Thanks for not 'mangling' me too bad out there. But you brought your A game, I can tell. I'd expect nothing less from a man of your caliber - *especially* a fellow Canadian. However! You were up against me...." He opened his arms again, "...the Best Bout Machine, and tonight, you found out why I earned such a moniker. You brought the fight but so did I and in the end, as you saw, it doesn't matter how hard you come at me. It doesn't matter how big you are. All it took was me doing what I do. Mind over matter, a few good knees to the head, and finally, the cherry on top! Katayoku no Tenshi - One Winged Angel. Boom! One, two, three! Done!"
He takes another sip of water. "Mmh. But I'll say this; don't anybody take anything from the man. Because he's not someone to be taken lightly. Those are the kinds of opponents I like and it makes winning so much sweeter! It's going to make winning this entire tournament, so much sweeter. Now, that being said...I know what this tournament is about. And like I said, I am honored to have been chosen to compete in it. I don't know the Blackheart family, personally. Never met them in my life. But I know how important the legacy of Vlad is to them and to the superstars of this company. So, I thank you again, from the bottom of my heart...." He places a hand over his chest and gives a small bow. "And I give you my word that I will honor the man's legacy, going through the rest of this tournament, becoming the first man to hoist the trophy and moving forward into WrestleWar. But! I'm getting ahead of myself, here. Who do I have next?"
"Scott Leroux." A reporter says.
"Scott Leroux." Kenny says, sipping more water. "The Tapout King! I've heard of you, too, Scott. Trust me, I'm looking forward to it. I know you and Willy go way back, together. You're...what do you call yourselves?"
"The Great White North." Says another reporter.
Kenny nods. "That's it! Hey. Represent, right?" He pounds his chest. "Good on ya. Now, I'm gonna admit. Submission wrestling? I've said it before; it's not my thing. I know jack shit about it. I know a few moves here and there. If you watched the G1 this year, ZSJ was no walk in the park for me...but, I beat him. So, while I expect to have to dig deep, against Scott Leroux, rest assured, I intend to keep this momentum. I will beat you, Scott. It's nothing personal. You wanna win. Everyone wants to win. Me? I'm *going* to win. So, until Thursday, the 27th, next day of B Block, I'm gonna study up just a little more. Thanks for the water, you're welcome for my time, good bye...." He makes a gun out of his empty hand and smooches his index finger, "...and good night. Bang. Seeya later!" Kenny sips more water as he leaves the frame with the rest of the BC Elite.
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Zack Sabre Jr defeated Shelton Benjamin in their block match by submission in 16:10 with the Article 50.
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Nico Salvatore defeated Kane in their block match by pinfall in a shocking 6:04 after hoisting the big man up onto his shoulders and hitting him with the GFY.
Hanson: "Are you kidding me?!"
Reynolds: "Wow! Talk about getting it done!"
Hanson: "I just...oh, wow."
Taking the microphone from the announcer, Nico Salvatore turned slowly in the center of the ring, looking around at the Brooklyn crowd. "Did any of you's expect anything different?" He asked into the microphone, watching the audience. "I don't care...who it is...that I face in this ring.... I made my intentions pretty clear before this tournament started and it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that..." He pointed outside of the ring to Kane, walking towards the back through the crowd, "...to stop me. I sure as fuck, ain't letting anybody embarrass me in my own city...." Here, the crowd gave an approving pop. The camera cut to the audience where a few signs of Nico were being raised.
"Shit, I'm sure as fuck not letting the rest of the f'nucs in this block embarrass me in my home state!" Again, an approving pop from the fans that, despite Nico's demeanor, were approving of seeing a hometown boy win. "This is my home. My old neighborhood is just a couple blocks from this building! I grew up in New York and I learned part of my craft from the man that this tournament is honoring, who came from Chicago, where the finals are taking place. You can bet your ass, that I'm going on to the end to this tournament with a clean sweep. Nine wins! Zero losses! I'm gonna go into the finals, I'm winning that trophy, and it won't be long before you're referring to me as the next NFW...World...Heavyweight...Champion!" Nico tossed the microphone over his shoulder, promptly leaving the ring and heading up the ramp.
Reynolds: "You heard him, Nicky! Nico Salvatore's promising a clean sweep of A Block!"
Hanson: "Well, I can't say for sure that he'll pull it off, but I can't say that he won't, either! We'll have to wait and see! That's it, for tonight, folks! I'm Nick Hanson, here for James Reynolds! Thank you for being here with us, and we'll see you tomorrow for our last day, in Brooklyn! Good night, everyone!"
~In Loving Memory Of Vlad Blackheart~
~Jan. 14, 1975 - May 5, 2016~
After the image fades away, the sound of Saliva's "Ladies And Gentlemen" is heard as the tournament logo explodes onto the screen and we hear the announcer's thunderous voice list the A Block competitors.
As the camera cuts to the ringside area, showing the amped up crowd, Nick Hanson and James Reynolds welcome those in attendance, in addition to those watching via NFW's streaming network.
Hanson: "We've had an exciting tournament, thus far, folks. Hell, we've had exciting shows in general! Great block matches, great tag matches! Social media is buzzing, the hashtags for the event are trending!"
Reynolds: "Nicky, I can only imagine how happy the Blackheart family is with how things are turning out thus far! And we've only really just begun! We've got so much more in store for the fans!"
Hanson: "Perfectly said, Jim. We're about ready to kick tonight off with the preliminary tag matches but let's take a look back at backstage last night with one of our post-match interviews from B Block!"
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The camera cuts to a backstage segment from last night's B Block night.
[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
As Disturbed's "Haunted" is heard out in the arena, The Rebel Rousers - Teddy Morse and Chase Evans - slowly, almost shamefully, come walking back through the curtain. Morse idly holds the back of his neck while Evans rests his hands on his hips. Both men, sweat soaked and looking disgruntled at the outcome of their tag match against the Fallen.
"Fuck, man...." Teddy Morse pants as he and Chase Evans come to stand in front of the backdrop. "GODDAMN IT!!" He finally loses it and slams both hands against the promotional backdrop.
"Whoa, hey!" Evans says, looking back at his partner. "Calm down, man. It's all good."
"My ass, it is!" Morse turns and looks up at Evans with frustration in his eyes. "What the HELL are we doing wrong?! We rolled up in this company, shit hot!" He chops one hand down into the opposite palm. "Yeah, we don't have a perfect streak, but we were still kicking ass! Now we come back...we get the crap kicked out of us by Godzilla and King Kong, then we come here and get our asses handed to us again by those sons o'bitches!!" He gestures out in the direction of the arena.
Evans raises his hands in a calm shrug. "We got beat by the tag team champions, brother. The champs!"
"Yeah!" Morse snaps back. "Who won them by fucking cheating, because that's the only way they can get a W!"
"Alright, look man, look." Chase grabs Teddy by the shoulders and holds him still. "Cool...yer fuckin'...jets. It sucks, I know. I ain't exactly happy about it, either. We were off our game, tonight, obviously. We can get back on it. We're booked for another match tomorrow. Let's just go wash up, cool our heads, grab somethin' t'eat, and go over a game plan. Cool?"
Teddy Morse rolls his eyes. "Game plan. Right. We don't need no game plan, man. We need to just start straight up beating the shit outta motherfuckers!" He throws Chase's hands off of him and brushes passed him, moving off camera as Chase turns to watch him go. Off in the direction Teddy walked, we hear him yell, "FUCK!!!"
Chase Evans shakes his head, though with a look that says he understands the man's frustration before he turns to the cameras. "Hey, y'all have a good evenin', alright? Sorry about that." He says, reaching out to shake a couple of hands before following his partner, calling off screen. "Hey, Teddy! YO!!"
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In the opening preliminary matchup, The McKeesport Mafia defeated Tanga Loa and Bad Luck Fale by pinfall in 17:02 after BDP delivered the Bukakke Blast to Fale.
Hanson: "Well, they've both yet to make it on the board as far as the tournament goes, but Big Daddy Payne and The Punisher just showed the world why they are STILL one of the baddest tag teams this sport has ever seen!"
Reynolds: "And you've gotta believe, Nicky, that they're both sending a message to Tama Tonga with this victory!"
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
With the sound of Hollywood Undead's "Renegade" booming out in the arena, Marissa Payne and Vincent Stone emerge through the curtain and approach the interview area. Marissa Payne holds up a hand, silently blowing off the cameras as she walks by without so much as slowing her pace. Behind her, Vincent Stone stops in front of the backdrop and watches her go with shame on his face.
"Vincent Stone, your thoughts on the match?" One reporter says from behind the cameras.
Stone sighs and idly rubs his jaw. "What can I say?" He shrugs, his shoulders. "We got our asses kicked. I feel like I let Marissa down." He shakes his head, slowly beginning to pull the tape off of his hands. "It caught me off guard, a little, to be honest. She came to me the other day -- when everyone else was at the press conference...." He slides one elbow pad off and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face. "...She asked me to be her tag team partner for this match." He pulls off the other elbow pad and bunches them in one hand, looking at the reporters. "Does anyone here actually watch our broadcasts?" He catches one reporter's response off camera, pointing in that direction. "You? So yeah...you know." He looks around at the other reporters. "I was thrilled that she came to me for this...but we came up short. I don't know what else to say. That's all I've got."
Stone raises a hand to halt the interview and moves on, heading towards the locker rooms.
***************************************************
With a white fade transition, the shot jumps forward to the moment that Max LeBrun and Serena Frost come walking through the curtain after celebrating their victory in the ring. Max is chuckling triumphantly as he and Serena stop in front of the reporters.
"Ohhhh, Marissa...Marissa, Marissa.... I told you." He raises a finger, waving it in front of the camera, making a "tsk tsk tsk" sound. "I told you and everyone else...that we weren't fucking around. We came here with a goal in mind! You wanted Serena and I to avenge the beating that got laid onto your bestie. You got what you asked for! You have nobody to blame but yourself. Hell, you should be *ashamed* of yourself! You actually had me curious. You said a tag partner of your choosing. I was half expecting another one of your old man's buddies in their twilight years to come walking through that curtain, but no. Instead, you brought out your family's biggest fan boy. A loser who's not even on my level and never...fucking...will be!" He says this, leaning into the camera before breaking into that cold, wicked smile of his.
"You owe the man an apology. But you know what? I do, too." He raises his hands in surrender. "Stone? I got a little dirty out there. I took a cheap shot. Fair enough. So, let me make it up to you. I want you to watch your other all time favorite. A guy who you apparently idolized enough that he was your motivation to come into this sport. I want you to watch me expose Buzzsaw for the fake that he is, tomorrow, when I beat his ass in A Block. Buzzsaw? Buzz? Can I call ya, Buzz? I'm coming for your ass, tomorrow. And I know we're gonna tear it up. You're known for your kicks." He pointed at the camera then thumbed to himself. "You're one of the people who knows what I can do. Me? I'm not just a wrestler. I was earning belts of a different kind before I decided to step into wrestling. So come at me with everything you've got. Because I'm sure as shit not looking to just simply pin you on the mat. I'm gonna show you why *I* am the champion. Why *we* are the true force to be reckoned with. The Renegades. Not the Dominion of Pain. *We* are the real...fucking...deal. We've proven that time and time again and we're gonna keep proving it. Don't believe me? We're fighting champions. We'll take on whoever thinks they can step up and take what we've earned. I've got eight more guys lined up who think they have what it takes to take this from me!" He raised the World Heavyweight Championship up next to his head. "Eight more guys who think they're be able to pull off what Chris Wolfe did and earn the right to challenge for this, before WrestleWar even gets here. So, come at me with everything you fuckers have. Hell, come at any of us! My boys Ryan and Sabastian'll put any tag team on their asses! Doesn't matter if it's after the tournament, or during. Come and try us. We look forward to it...."
Grinning, Max LeBrun steps off camera and leaves the scene. The camera focuses in on Serena Frost, standing with her arms crossed and a cold, careless look on her face. She looks at the reporters...and silently follows after Max....
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The Unwanted defeated Lara Blackheart and Shelley Silver by pinfall in 22:08 when Adrianna Salvatore countered a running maneuver from Lara with a pop-up, sitout powerbomb.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
Ayumi Nakamura's "Kaze Ni Nare" is heard out in the arena as Andrew Payne comes backstage, through the curtain, pulling the straps of his gear down around his waist. Sweat drips from his face as he stands in front of the backdrop. He lifts his face towards the cameras to reveal he already has a bruise under one eye developing, as well as blood under his nose. There's also a cut on his bottom lip. He's absolutely exhausted...but he wears a small grin of approval on his face.
"Man...." Andrew says, looking down and shaking his head. "I haven't had that much fun in a singles match in years...."
"You enjoyed the match, despite the loss?" A reporter asks.
"Oh, yeah." Andrew replies, looking up with sincerity on his face. "Ya know? It reminded me a little of thirteen years ago...2005...." Andrew touches the blood under his nose and looks at it, chuckling again before looking back at the cameras. "I lost the Hardcore Championship to Mr. Gannosuke. But I wasn't bummed out over it. We had a hell of a fight and the better man of the night won. Suzuki's a tough son of a bitch. And ya see, Minoru?" Andrew looks at the camera, addressing Suzuki directly for the future. "That's what I don't get about you. You are tough as nails...you're mean as shit...you are a legit...fucking...BADASS!!!" He shouts the last word at the top of his lungs. "But I see, from time to time, you have your crew come in to pull some underhanded shit to help you win matches. Obviously, you didn't do that tonight. Let's face it, you couldn't. I get that. But you reminded the world, even at fifty years old, that you are not to be taken lightly. You're a fighter. You're a warrior. It's just a damn shame that you've aligned yourself with a fat little weasel like Paul Heyman, who makes Bobby Heenan look like a saint. I'm not gonna sit here and come up with excuses as to why I lost tonight. I faced one of the greatest wrestlers to ever live and he took it to me. It's in the past. This tournament is about paying respect to the man who had an eye for the future."
"Your thoughts going into your next block match?" A reporter asks.
Andrew Payne's grin falters some. "My thoughts?" He raises his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes. "I don't think I need to say what I'm thinking for my next match. I said everything in the interview with Amy Connors. Tama? I can't decide whether you're really ballsy, or a complete fucking moron. You either have the balls to pull the shit you do, knowing what's gonna come of it, or you do these things thinking that you're gonna be able to slip away. All I have to say is, if it's the latter, you've fucked yourself. You went and earned the ire of both me and D and now, you took the spot in the tournament of the other guy who was headed for two ass kickings because he was in the same block as us. Well, now, that's you. You're stuck in this tournament. You're in B Block with the McKeesport Mafia, and on the 27th, you've got your second match against me. And you know what? Call me selfish, but seeing as you decided to Gun Stun my only child, her uncle may not even get a piece of you. He and the rest of your opponents may get bi's because it'll be a miracle, if your sorry ass can even walk out of this fucking arena on Thursday."
"Pops!" A female voice calls off screen, growing closer. "Pops!" Andrew Payne turns in time to see his daughter, Morgan, appear beside him with concern on her face. "Pops! Y'alright, there?!"
"I'm fine, baby." Andrew rests his hands on her shoulders, before she leans in and hugs him. He rests one of his large, gloved hands on the back of her head. "Hell, I'm more than fine. That match, just now, got my blood pumping!"
Morgan steps back, comically looking up at her father in surprise. "Wha? Y'get her head rocked by the meanest guy in the world and y'get amped up about it?"
"Morgan, sweetie." Andrew pats her on the head. "When you make a name for yourself beating the shit out of everyone who steps into the ring with you, there's an odd sense of satisfaction when you finally meet the guy who can give you the fight of your life. Remember that." Andrew chuckles a little and punches the inside of his other hand. "DAMN, I FEEL YOUNG AGAIN!!!!" He shouts as he walks away from the interview area and towards the locker rooms.
Morgan watches him go with a hilarious wide eyed look and turns to the cameras. "Man's off his fuckin rocker, yeah?" She says, shaking her head and hurries off after her father.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Rebel Rousers defeated Satoru Shade III and Colt Shields by pinfall, in 10:39 when Chase Evans pinned Shade after he and Teddy Morse delivered the Upchuck to him.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
As Tama Tonga approached the bakcdrop, his already irritated expression turned to one of outright anger as one of the reporters in the room called out, "How's it feel to come to this promotion bragging about your greatness, only to lose your first singles match to EVIL?"
Tama walked over, as close to the reporter as he could before security would intervene, and sneered. "Really? You gonna sit there in your cheap-ass suit and tie and ask me that? Who the fuck is you? Bitch-ass motherfucker, you ever even been in that ring? No, you bet your ass you haven't. So don't sit there talkin' your shit like you somebody important."
He pointed out to the reporters and photographers, sneering. "Don't even worry about tonight. Worry about ya boy The Punisher, cos he's next. I'm gonna bust that shithead up even worse that I busted up his skank-ass little girl. Fuck all y'all. G.O.D. out. Let's go, bruh." He said, flipping everyone off as he walked out with Tanga Loa.
Following close behind, Tanga Loa made the cunning lingus gesture at the cameras before grabbing his crotch and thrusting his hips forward, before leaving with Tama.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shot cuts back to ringside as the crew prepares everything for the block matches scheduled for the night.
Hanson: "Alright, Jim! So...prelim matches are over. It's time to get ready for the block matches."
Reynolds: "I'm pumped!"
Hanson: "Me, too. So, let's look at the scores for A Block, so far. As it currently stands: with 2 points each, we have -- Shelton Benjamin, Chris Wolfe, Buzzsaw, Kane and Nico Salvatore. Matt Klazzic, Rick Dickulous, Max LeBrun, Zack Sabre Jr and Kota Ibushi came out of their first matches with losses. They have 0 points. Now, that's about to change for one of those two gentlemen, here in a few moments. We're kicking off A Block tonight with Matt Klazzic - returning from an intentional hiatus. He took some time off. Worked on his technique. We heard him say, during the press conference, he's taken to King's Road style wrestling. It's a vicious style and we've seen him put it to use, so far. He takes on Rick Dickulous who has a pretty nasty style of his own."
Reynolds: "RIck has a pretty nasty mind, and I don't mean it in the violent sense."
Hanson: "Well, he *is* violent, Jim. But I get what you mean. Anyway, folks! That's where everyone sits in A Block. Let's get things rolling!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rick Dickulous defeated Matt Klazzic in their block match by pin, in 15:11 after hitting the Misery Whip.
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Max LeBrun and Buzzsaw absolutely took it to each other in their block match against one another. While Buzzsaw dished out his arsenal of vicious kicks, LeBrun answered back with devastating kicks of his own.
Reynolds: "Look at this, Nicky, even Buzzsaw's starting to look rocked!"
Hanson: "He and LeBrun definitely look like they're on equal ground, I have to admit!"
The match reached a stand off, at one point, where both men stood in the center of the ring. Buzzsaw brought his leg up with a loud *POP* as he connected with a kick to Max's ribs.
Max clutched at his midsection but refused to leave his feet. Instead, he appeared to fight through the pain and got back in Buzzsaw's face, pressing his forehead against the man's and shouting half-audible obscenities.
"--all you got, motherfucker?!"
Buzzsaw palmed Max's face and shoved him back, prompting an "Oooooooh" from the crowd before he gestured for Max to bring it on. Max answered back with a sharp, calculated taekwondo kick to the midsection. While Buzzsaw didn't buckle, he stepped sideways slightly, walking in a slow circle and pumped his fists down beside him, only to turn back, nodding to Max who beckoned back at him with both hands.
"COME ON!!!!"
Hanson: "The champ is saying he wants some more!"
Reynolds: "Yeah, and Buzzsaw's gonna give it to him! Look out!"
*SMACK*
Crowd: "OHHHHHH!!!"
The crowd reacted as Buzzsaw struck with another bone crunching kick to the ribs. Clutching his midsection, Max stumbled back and grabbed onto the top rope for support.
Hanson: "Myyyy GOD, did you hear that?!"
Reynolds: "I did, Nicky! Holy shit! How is he still standing?!"
Buzzsaw remained where he stood, visibly calling to Max and beckoning him to throw something back at him. Pushing away from the ropes, Max wore a look of burning determination on his face as he stepped back over to Buzzsaw and poised himself, setting up for his next kick.
Reynolds: "Ohhh, this looks like it's gonna hurt."
Hanson: "He's a third degree black belt in taekwondo, Jim. These kicks can break ribs!"
*SMACK*
Max snapped his leg up, delivering a kick to Buzzsaw that finally appeared to have some effect on the TV Champion. Bringing up an arm to his midsection, Buzzsaw nodded again before regaining his composure. Max, with an arrogant smirk on his face, was waiting with a slap across Buzzsaw's face as soon as he turned back.
Crowd: "OOOOOOOH!!!"
Hanson: "Oh now, c'mon. That was low. No need for that!"
"C'mon, motherfucker! One more!" Max yelled inside the ring.
Buzzsaw responded with another kick that caused Max to keel forward. He immediately followed up with a kick to the leg, and another kick, this time on the taped shoulder of Max. Max LeBrun finally dropped to his knees, clutching his arm.
Reynolds: "Oh man, he hit that arm!"
Hanson: "You see the tape, you see the sleeve cover. Max has had surgery on his bicep. He's had his shoulder dislocated. His opponents know *that's* how you get his number! That's how you take it to the Toronto Daredevil. You go for that arm! He wears that sleeve and the tape to protect his arm in the ring but to his opponent, it's a target saying 'Strike Here!'"
Announcer: "Nineteen minutes have passed! One minute remaining!"
Reynolds: "Oh god, we're at the one minute left mark! These guys need to dig deep!"
Down on his knees, Max clutched his arm and looked up at Buzzsaw, forcing a smile and visibly laughing despite the pain. He then, clearly mouthed---
"Fuck you!"
--before SPITTING up in Buzzsaw's face. The crowd oooh'ed again as Buzzsaw calmly wiped the spit off of his mask and Max beckoned him to go for the next kick. Buzzsaw reared back and snapped his leg up....
But Max LeBrun dropped forward, causing Buzzsaw's leg to go over him. Max popped up and waited for Buzzsaw to turn around, positioning for his coup de grace of kick maneuvers.
Hanson: "Here it comes! Can he hit it!"
Reynolds: "SLAPSHOT!!"
Max went for the Slapshot but Buzzsaw caught the foot and threw it down, going for a superkick of his own. Max caught Buzzsaw's foot and spun him around. As Buzzsaw rotated around, facing Max again--
*SMACK*
Hanson: "THERE IT IS!!!!"
Reynolds: "SLAPSHOT, RIGHT ON THE MONEY!!!"
Announcer: "Thirty seconds remaining!"
Buzzsaw stumbled back, ricocheting off of the ropes and right back towards Max who grabbed hold of him, setting up for the Anuerysm, but Buzzsaw pried his arms free and caught Max by the legs, yanking his feet out from under him. Max landed on his back, rolling away from Buzzsaw who came rushing at him. As Max came back up on his knees, Buzzsaw went for his own finisher.
Hanson: "BUZZSAW KICK--WAIT, NO!!"
Max, however, leaned back, letting the kick sail over his head. This positioned him, unfortunately, for Buzzsaw to simply drop down and lock his arm over his neck.
Reynolds: "DNR!!!!! DNR, NICKY!!!!! HE'S GOT THE DNR LOCKED IN!!!!"
Hanson: "ARE WE GONNA SEE THE WORLD CHAMPION GO 0 AND 2 IN THIS TOURNAMENT?!"
Announcer: "Fifteen seconds remaining!"
Reynolds: "Buzzsaw needs to put everything he's got into that hold!"
Hanson: "Oh, you know he always does!"
Announcer: "Ten seconds!"
Hanson: "Time's running out!"
As Buzzsaw wrenched back on Max's neck, throwing his legs up around the man's waist, Max fought and struggled to get out of the maneuver. Digging his gloved fingers against Buzzsaw's arms as much as he could.
Reynolds: "C'mon!!!!"
~5!!~
~4!!~
~3!!~
~2!!~
~1!!~
~DING DING DING!!~
Hanson: "That's the bell!! And referee James Greer's gonna call for the break!!"
As this was being said, the referee anxiously motioned for Buzzsaw to release Max LeBrun from the DNR hold. As soon as he did, Max rolled away, struggling to catch his breath as Candi Broduer pulled him off of the apron and helped him to his feet, pouring a bottle of water over his head.
Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, this match has reached the twenty minute mark and is, therefore, a draw. Each competitor will recieve one point towards their score!"
Reynolds: "A DRAW!!!!"
Hanson: "I don't believe it!!!"
Reynolds: "HOOOOOOOLY CRAP!!!!"
As the referee handed Buzzsaw his TV Championship, Candi Broduer entered the ring to snatch the World Heavyweight Championship from the ref and brought it over to hand to Max before the two slowly made their way up the ramp, leaving Buzzsaw to stare back at them from the center of the ring.
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Kota Ibushi defeated Chris Wolfe by pinfall in 10:37 after delivering the KamiGoye.
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[9/25/2018 - DAY 2 - B BLOCK]
Backstage, members of Bullet Club Elite applaud and voice their approval in front of the backdrop and cameras as Kenny Omega appears through the curtain. Arms out, soaking up the praise as he steps in front of the cameras.
"Whoo!" He says, wide eyed, shaking his head. "I have to hand it to---, I need some water...."
"Get the guy some damn water!" Adam Page yells.
A few seconds go by before Page is given a bottle and hands it to Kenny who anxiously takes a long swig.
"I have to hand it to NFW. You guys...are some tough competition. I see, now, why New Japan partnered with you. You guys...know how to bring it. William Mannheim...can I call ya Willy? I'm gonna call ya Willy. Thanks for not 'mangling' me too bad out there. But you brought your A game, I can tell. I'd expect nothing less from a man of your caliber - *especially* a fellow Canadian. However! You were up against me...." He opened his arms again, "...the Best Bout Machine, and tonight, you found out why I earned such a moniker. You brought the fight but so did I and in the end, as you saw, it doesn't matter how hard you come at me. It doesn't matter how big you are. All it took was me doing what I do. Mind over matter, a few good knees to the head, and finally, the cherry on top! Katayoku no Tenshi - One Winged Angel. Boom! One, two, three! Done!"
He takes another sip of water. "Mmh. But I'll say this; don't anybody take anything from the man. Because he's not someone to be taken lightly. Those are the kinds of opponents I like and it makes winning so much sweeter! It's going to make winning this entire tournament, so much sweeter. Now, that being said...I know what this tournament is about. And like I said, I am honored to have been chosen to compete in it. I don't know the Blackheart family, personally. Never met them in my life. But I know how important the legacy of Vlad is to them and to the superstars of this company. So, I thank you again, from the bottom of my heart...." He places a hand over his chest and gives a small bow. "And I give you my word that I will honor the man's legacy, going through the rest of this tournament, becoming the first man to hoist the trophy and moving forward into WrestleWar. But! I'm getting ahead of myself, here. Who do I have next?"
"Scott Leroux." A reporter says.
"Scott Leroux." Kenny says, sipping more water. "The Tapout King! I've heard of you, too, Scott. Trust me, I'm looking forward to it. I know you and Willy go way back, together. You're...what do you call yourselves?"
"The Great White North." Says another reporter.
Kenny nods. "That's it! Hey. Represent, right?" He pounds his chest. "Good on ya. Now, I'm gonna admit. Submission wrestling? I've said it before; it's not my thing. I know jack shit about it. I know a few moves here and there. If you watched the G1 this year, ZSJ was no walk in the park for me...but, I beat him. So, while I expect to have to dig deep, against Scott Leroux, rest assured, I intend to keep this momentum. I will beat you, Scott. It's nothing personal. You wanna win. Everyone wants to win. Me? I'm *going* to win. So, until Thursday, the 27th, next day of B Block, I'm gonna study up just a little more. Thanks for the water, you're welcome for my time, good bye...." He makes a gun out of his empty hand and smooches his index finger, "...and good night. Bang. Seeya later!" Kenny sips more water as he leaves the frame with the rest of the BC Elite.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zack Sabre Jr defeated Shelton Benjamin in their block match by submission in 16:10 with the Article 50.
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Nico Salvatore defeated Kane in their block match by pinfall in a shocking 6:04 after hoisting the big man up onto his shoulders and hitting him with the GFY.
Hanson: "Are you kidding me?!"
Reynolds: "Wow! Talk about getting it done!"
Hanson: "I just...oh, wow."
Taking the microphone from the announcer, Nico Salvatore turned slowly in the center of the ring, looking around at the Brooklyn crowd. "Did any of you's expect anything different?" He asked into the microphone, watching the audience. "I don't care...who it is...that I face in this ring.... I made my intentions pretty clear before this tournament started and it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that..." He pointed outside of the ring to Kane, walking towards the back through the crowd, "...to stop me. I sure as fuck, ain't letting anybody embarrass me in my own city...." Here, the crowd gave an approving pop. The camera cut to the audience where a few signs of Nico were being raised.
"Shit, I'm sure as fuck not letting the rest of the f'nucs in this block embarrass me in my home state!" Again, an approving pop from the fans that, despite Nico's demeanor, were approving of seeing a hometown boy win. "This is my home. My old neighborhood is just a couple blocks from this building! I grew up in New York and I learned part of my craft from the man that this tournament is honoring, who came from Chicago, where the finals are taking place. You can bet your ass, that I'm going on to the end to this tournament with a clean sweep. Nine wins! Zero losses! I'm gonna go into the finals, I'm winning that trophy, and it won't be long before you're referring to me as the next NFW...World...Heavyweight...Champion!" Nico tossed the microphone over his shoulder, promptly leaving the ring and heading up the ramp.
Reynolds: "You heard him, Nicky! Nico Salvatore's promising a clean sweep of A Block!"
Hanson: "Well, I can't say for sure that he'll pull it off, but I can't say that he won't, either! We'll have to wait and see! That's it, for tonight, folks! I'm Nick Hanson, here for James Reynolds! Thank you for being here with us, and we'll see you tomorrow for our last day, in Brooklyn! Good night, everyone!"