Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Oct 1, 2018 9:11:03 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 B 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: "QUEENS, NEW YORK, THANK YOU FOR JOINING US!! WELCOME TO THE VLAD BLACKHEART MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT!! WE ARE IN WEEK TWO OF THE ACTION!! I'M NICK HANSON, JOINED, AS ALWAYS, BY MY BROADCAST COLLEAGUE, JAMES REYNOLDS!!"
Reynolds: "Good afternoon. I'm James. James Reynolds."
Hanson: "Will you STOP with the Christopher Walken impersonation?! You don't even sound like him!"
Reynolds: "Nicky. I can't help it. The man...is a legend."
Hanson: *gives a heavy sigh and we can tell he's burying his face in his hand* "Anyway, we thank you for joining us, folks. We had an exciting series of events last week and we're gonna continue that action this week as NFW takes over the Carnesecca Arena. The folks at Barclay absolutely loved us last week, so let's keep that momentum going as we kick tonight off with the preliminary matches!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
Battle Beast's "Push It To The Limit" is heard from outside in the arena as Morgan Payne throws the curtain open and comes walking backstage towards the interview section with Shelton Benjamin. While Shelton has no words to say at the moment, Morgan walks RIGHT UP to the camera, sticking her face in the lens as she grabs hold of the camera with one hand.
"RYAN!! CANDI!!! HOW D'YINS LIKE THAT SHIT, HUH?!" She yells into the camera, with that signature wild eyed smile on her face. "YINS SHOULDA KNOWN THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN! RYAN, I HOPE YA COUGH A FUCKIN' TESTICLE UP! AND IF NOT, MAYBE THAT Y'CAN ASK THAT NEW HOOCH YINS PICKED UP TO RUB 'EM AND MAKE 'EM FEEL BETTER!!" Finally, she calms down, panting heavily as she looks around in front of her at the reporters and shrugs her hands at her sides. "Whatsamatta?"
"Umm...any thoughts on your next tag match, scheduled on the 1st of October, as we head into the second week?" A reporter, tentatively, asks.
Morgan wipes the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and addresses the camera again.
"YO! ADRIANNA! MIA! MARI AND I'LL SEE YINS IN QUEENS, HUH?! WHOOO!!" She throws the metal horns and starts pumping her fist as she marches out of frame where we can hear her yelling, "NOODLE DICK! NOODLE DICK!" All the way down the hallway. Shelton Benjamin walks off after her, a hysterical look on his face as he tries to keep from laughing.
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In the opening preliminary match, the team of Connor K, AKI and the McKeesport Mafia defeated Suzuki-Gun by pinfall in 15:40 when BDP and The Punisher delivered a double powerbomb to Lance Archer, followed by Connor K flying off of the top rope with a frog splash for the cover.
Hanson: "AND CONNOR K SCORES A PINFALL AGAINST SUZUKI-GUN!!"
Reynolds: "THESE GUYS, NICKY! THEY'VE BEEN...HOUNDING HIM FOR WEEKS!! PAYBACK...IS A BITCH!!!"
Hanson: "My god, just stop it, okay? Just stop it!"
Reynolds: "Nicky. Relax. Enjoy the show."
Hanson: "...Fuck my life."
Reynolds: "Nicky! You need to learn...to watch the profanity!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
I Prevail's "Come And Get It" can be heard as Nico Salvatore flings the curtain aside and goes storming right passed the cameras in front of the backdrop.
"NICO!!" We hear Adrianna Salvatore's voice call out before she emerges through the curtain, seconds later. "Nico, what...." She trails off as she comes to a stop, in front of the camera. Throwing her hands up, in a lost shrug, she turns towards the camera, absolutely speechless. Motioning with her hands in the direction Nico went, she clearly doesn't know what to say on the matter and simply hurries off to try and catch up with the man.
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In the second preliminary match, The Unwanted and The Iron Maidens wrestled to an incredible 25 minute draw. After the bell, the two teams stood before one another in what looked to be a slightly tense standoff. This lasted a moment, before Adrianna extended a fist bump to the Iron Maidens, earning a pop from the crowd.
Hanson: "Well, this is a surprise."
Reynolds: "Indeed. A pleasant surprise, Nicky." *Reynolds is still going with his Christopher Walken impersonation*
Afterwards, the two teams separated, both heading up the main ramp at intervals to give each other space.
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*A picturesque valley is shown in a wide angled shot, the fall colours of the deciduous trees bursting through the intermixed conifers. A river flows lazily through the valley, and barely visible in the distance two men stand thigh deep in the river, fishing. As the shot zooms on the men, it becomes clear that they aren't average sized men. Soon it becomes clear that the two men are none other than William Mannheim and Pitt, Mannheim with a fishing rod, Pitt carrying a shotgun under his arm. Mannheim wears realtree camo waders and a sweatshirt, with a black beanie on his head, Pitt is simply dressed in jeans, and a plaid button down shirt, a straw hat covering his long dark hair. A quick cut has a cameraman in the water along with the two*
"Willy, I think I have a vagina right now...this water's fucking cold!"
*Pitt stops wading forward and looks around confused*
"Wait...they didn't...."
*Mannheim stops a few feet ahead of Pitt and checks his fishing gear*
"Maybe we're out of their jurisdiction...ever thought about that?"
*Pitt scoffs*
"Yeah, right. More like it's my fucking awesome disguise! Remember? You said we were gonna trash them Rebel Rousers, and I better play my part....well, ta daa!"
"Pitt, seriously? Shut the fuck up. I'm about to cast, and you're scaring the fish. When I said we were gonna trash The Rebel Rousers, I meant in the ring, dummy!"
*Pitt thinks for a minute*
"So then, why are we out here hunting and fishing, dressed like hillbillies instead of smoking some of the good shit with Rick?"
"Pitt...YOU are dressed like a cowboy...I am dressed as someone who wants their big dumb fucking idiot of a friend to shut the fuck up so he can fish. You don't have to be a hillbilly to enjoy fishing, or hunting, or both..."
"Look, all I'm sayin here is we're totally missing out on fucking comedy gold."
*Pitt looks around above his head and nods*
"Willy, I could totally get used to this....I mean the no fucking beeep, beeep, beeep whenever I say fuck...."
*Mannheim turns around and takes a step towards Pitt, a look of sheer annoyance on his face*
"Dude, seriously...why don't you take your vagina on over to the bank and say fuck all ya want. I seriously just want to fish!"
*Pitt groans as he turns around*
"Man, when can I at least shoot something? Fuck, man, I wouldn't have a vagina anymore...just sayin'..."
*Pitt sloshes towards the bank. Mannheim calls after him*
"Look, if something's coming, and you don't shoot anywhere near me, you have at it...you're being too fucking loud all excited that you can swear, THAT'S why you haven't shot anything."
*The camera pans back to Mannheim as he turns back to face the middle of the river, rechecking his gear. He turns and looks at the camera as he does*
"Look, Teddy and Chase? Two things. One: how is walking through the woods alongside an oversized retarded chimp with a shotgun fun? I mean, I'm not sayin' all you country boys do it...really. I'm asking for a friend, that's it..."
*Satisfied, Mannheim finally prepares himself and tosses a lovely cast right into the middle of the river. The fluorescent orange bobber sinks, then shoots back up, bouncing a few times before settling down on the calm surface*
"And two: I've noticed something about you two. You remind me of the retarded chimp with the shotgun back there and me back in the day. Seems to me this tournament's bringing out a bunch of that nostalgia, and all that. So, listen, you guys want some training partners? Look us up. That's not sarcasm, either."
*Pitt clears his throat from a place off camera which sounds to be approximately 10 feet behind Mannheim*
"You know, I can hear you, right? They are pretty fucking good, I mean, maybe they're not as good looking as we are...but we can work around that, right, Willy?"
*Mannheim clicks the reel a few times, retaining tension on the fishing line*
"Sure we can. But first we show them how it's done in--"
*Mannheim yanks his rod up sharply and begins reeling, the drag of the reel clicking like crazy as his catch runs with the bait. Mannheim keeps the tip of the rod up as a large rainbow trout leaps majestically from the water, slapping back into the surface of the water and resuming the fight*
"Sweet zombie Jesus, Willy...that's a fucking keeper for sure!"
*The camera pans back to show Pitt staring off towards where Willy's trout jumped, then back out to the river. As the trout jumps again, the unmistakeable shriek of a bird of prey can be heard as an eagle shoots into frame, catching the fish in its talons. As it opens its wings to shoot back up, the unmistakeable sound of a shotgun being chambered can be heard offscreen, followed by the roar of a shotgun blast. The eagle continues upward as a second round is chambered and fired, the eagle spiraling out of the air*
"YEEEEEHAAWWWW, WILLY! I GOT THE COCKSUCKER!!!"
*The camera pans to Mannheim, who stares at the camera and shrugs, as the shot fades to black*
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In the final preliminary match, the Army of Darkness defeated the Rebel Rousers by pinfall in 12:08 after delivering taking Chase Evans on a Trip to Hell, with Mannheim making the cover.
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Following the preliminary matches, the ringside crew is seen straightening everything up as we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds, again.
Reynolds: "Ladies and gentlemen...." *Still impersonating Christopher Walken* "It's time. For more action. From A Block."
Hanson: "God, someone tell Suzuki to come out here and give him a forearm. Hell, give ME one!"
Reynolds: "Now, Nicky. That's harsh. Harsh words, for your partner."
Hanson: "Whatever, Jim. Just shut up and let me read this. Alright, folks, here are the standings for A Block, thus far."
Reynolds: "Please, do. Read them. Nicky."
We hear what sounds like a headset being removed before being tossed away and to the floor. Distant from the headset's microphone, we hear James Reynolds calling out "hey dick! What the fuck, Nicky?!"
Hanson: "Pardon the interruption, folks. Ahem! Alright, so Nico Salvatore currently leads A Block with four points. Buzzsaw is trailing right behind him with three points. Shelton Benjamin, Chris Wolfe, Rick Dickulous, Kane, Zack Sabre Jr, and Kota Ibushi, all have two points. Max LeBrun sits at one, and Matt Klazzic still has yet to get on the board. With that being said, let's kick off our first of five A Block matches, tonight."
As Hanson finishes up, we hear James Reynolds sliding his headset back on as he sits back down.
Reynolds: "Nicky. That was. The rudest thing. I've ever seen you do."
Hanson: "If you keep that up, I'm gonna shove that headset where Judas Lasher'll need to use the Devil's Lock to get it out."
Reynolds: "Seriously?"
Hanson: "Do I look like I'm playing, Jim?"
Reynolds: *returning to his normal voice and mannerisms* "Okay, okay. Fair enough. Jeez, you can be a real hardass, sometimes."
Hanson: *In a much more impersonation of Christopher Walken* "Watch the profanity, Jimmy."
Reynolds: "...Okay, *THAT* was fucking good! You sounded just like him."
Hanson: "Bones."
We get a brief shot of the two as Reynolds gives Hanson a fist bump before the announcer begins announcing that A Block is about to begin.
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In the opening block match for the day, Zack Sabre Jr. defeated Matt Klazzic by pinfall in 19:06 after, to the shock of the crowd, busting out the Zack Driver.
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
Following Andrew Payne and Tama Tonga's block match, the G.O.D come walking through the curtain, into the backstage area. The interview camera catches them as they appear with Tanga helping his brother with an arm over his shoulders, despite being in obvious pain himself from the attack by the man from the crowd.
"Fuuuuuck!" Tanga Loa groans in frustration and pain as he lets go of Tama and leans against the promotional backdrop. "Who...who the fuck was that fool, bruh? Dude was...." Out of breath and at a loss for words, Tanga motions with his hand at how tall The Punisher's new ally was, "...dude was fuckin' huge!"
"This is some bullshit right here, man!" Tama shouted, as he grabbed a nearby trashcan and threw it at the wall in a rage. "How the hell they gonna have someone planted in the crowd ready to interfere? What happened to the integrity of the damn tournament and all that shit?"
"Um.... but he only stopped your brother from interfer-" One backstage staffer interjected, before Tama cut him off, practically flailing.
"WHO THE FUCK IS YOU???" He shouted with a gesture towards the staffer. "You bitches don't know shit! He was just showing his support for me. That's all. Whatever though... that's fine. These jackasses want a war? We'll give 'em a war."
"Hey, yo, fuck these bitch asses, bruh." Tanga said with disdain on his face, waving the reporters off. "And fuck those Mafia, bitches. Y'all ain't the only ones with a big motherfucker in yo squad!!" Tanga snapped. "And as for Suzuki? Ey, man." Laughing sadistically through his teeth, Tanga slapped Tama on the shoulder. "Bruh, whatchu got to say to the fuckin' 'KING' of pro wrestling?" He said mockingly, as he motioned with his hands as if he were reading the title off of a marquis.
"Tell you what I say." Tama replied, holding up a middle finger and thrusting it right into the camera. "FUCK the "king". Old-ass motherfucker... you ain't the king of SHIT. 'Specially not around here."
Slapping Tama on the back, Tanga laughed mockingly into the camera. "HAHAAAAAAAAAA!! YEYUH!! Get yo ass whupped in that ring on Wednesday! Then maybe get them fucked up crop circles on yo head lined up." Tanga taunted, circling his finger around his head in a mockery towards Suzuki's hair. "Lookin' like Mel Gibson's crops in Signs an'shit." Tanga said as he and Tama strolled off, down the hall, throwing each other a 'too sweet'.
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Moments later, "The Punisher" Andrew Payne steps through the curtain, into the backstage area. Right there, with him, is the mysterious man in the black partial-suit attire that attacked Tanga Loa before he was able to interfere in Payne's block match. Sliding the straps to his gear down, Payne stops in front of the camera, raising a finger as he addresses Tama Tonga.
"Tama...I told you that your shit wasn't gonna fly. That there were gonna be consequences...." He says, catching his breath still. "You tried to have your brother get involved, despite knowing what would happen. But thankfully...D and I had our own insurance policy. See, we don't want you gone. Not yet. D still hasn't gotten a piece of you yet. So we had to make sure that the rules were enforced. We are the McKeesport Mafia, afterall...." Payne remarks, stepping slightly to the side. "And if you're gonna be a mafia, you need an enforcer. This here's a good friend of D and I, Carmine Moretti." Payne gives the big man in the partial suit, a slap on the chest. G.O.D...you might be banging heads with the Army of Darkness, but passed a personal line with us. Just like the Renegades did. So, yeah, if we're going to war with practically everyone that isn't Mafia, it only makes sense that we call in the big guns."
Finally, Andrew Payne, rolled his neck, still feeling it from Tama Tonga's Gun Stun. "That's all I've got on that matter. We're with Connor and AKI in Queens on Monday. We're helping them out with Suzuki-Gun. I've got William Mannheim, the day after. The Mafia's getting busy. Willy? No tricks. You and I both know the stipulations. Carmine here'll keep to his own, so long as Pitt stays out of it. This is out of respect for Vlad's family. Let's do this one on one and call it a day." Finally, Andrew turns to Carmine and gives him daps. "Grazie per l'aiuto, lĂ fuori, fratello." He says, mainly to Carmine himself rather than to the cameras before the two make their way off, down the hall.
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Buzzsaw defeated Nico Salvatore by submission in 16:01 when he locked Nico into the DNR for over a minute. Rather than tapping out, Nico continued to struggle to escape the hold until Buzzsaw eventually ended up choking him unconscious. The referee called for the bell before motioning for Buzzsaw to release the hold, leaving Nico laying prone in the ring while staff worked on waking him up.
Reynolds: "Wooooow! Did he just choke out the Urban Gladiator?!"
Hanson: "He did, Jim! And now he leads A Block with five points!"
Reynolds: "Amazing what a big difference just one night can make!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
As the camera and interviewers all anxiously work in a gaggle to try and get a word with Judas Lasher, following his match with Big Daddy Payne, they suddenly break apart as the hulking form of Doomsday shoves them out of the way. As always, he's in his mask, but otherwise he wears black street clothes consisting of jeans, boots and a sleeveless, old school Cannibal Corpse t-shirt. "Give him some goddamn room!" He almost roars as he gives Judas his massive stature to lean on, should he need it.
"Judas!" One reporter calls out. "You just defeated Big Daddy Payne and are still one of the leaders for B Block. How does that make you feel?"
Even through his mask, it was obvious that Doomsday thought that was a dumb question. Nonetheless, he remained silent and looked to Judas.
Lasher gave what can only be described as an alarmingly happy smile, indeed leaning against his friend as he caught his breath, holding an ice pack to the side of his neck as he spoke. "I think that match... should silence anyone who wondered if these two old men could still go. I told everyone going into this - I am determined to be the first winner of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Cup. There is nobody in this tournament: not Payne, not Daniels, not Kane... not even my brother The Buzzsaw.... that needs to win this the way I do. I want to honor my best friend. And Dark Lord willing... that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"Judas, as the one that many long time fans are still calling one of the major faces of NFW, do you have any thoughts or words specifically, going into your third match next week against the man that people are calling the new face of New Japan, Kenny Omega? A man who sounds as equally determined as you to be the first winner of this tournament." Another reporter asks.
"I'm not going to say anything derogatory about Kenny Omega." Lasher said, turning to give a quick hug to Lara Blackheart, who'd made her way over briefly. "The man is possibly the best in the world right now. The question is going to be... can he overcome the pure darkness I will channel coming into this match? What I may lack in youth, I make up for in determination. And I promise you, Kenny Omega has never seen anything like what he will be facing."
"Excuse me, Lara?" Another reporter chimes in. "Do *you* have any thoughts on the match we just saw or Judas Lasher's next one to come?"
"Ohhhhh no." Lara laughed, holding up a hand. "I am not even here as a Dominion member right now. This is just me congratulating my godfather. But.... if Dominion!Lara *was* here? She'd only have one thing to say to Kenny Omega." She started to walk away, before turning back, to make a gun gesture with her hand. "Goodbye... and good night. BANG."
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Chris Wolfe defeated Kane in their block match, by pinfall, in 9:57 after hitting him with a diving top rope DDT.
Hanson: "CHRIS WOLFE DEFEATS KANE!!!!! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!!"
Reynolds: "WHO'S AFRAID OF THE BIG BAD WOLFE!!!!"
Hanson: "I'll admit, Kane came into this tournament hot as hell - pardon the pun - but Chris Wolfe has been shocking the world with his performances as of late! Not a perfect tournament record, but this is only the third night for A Block and we've still got a way's to go!"
Reynolds: "Plus, don't forget. Wolfe has the Women's Champion's endorsement to win this whole thing."
Hanson: "He very well could, Jim. He said he wanted to make a statement and that he was striving for glory. He may just achieve both of those before this event is over."
As Therapy & Fatal's "Come And Die" blared on, throughout the arena, Amy Connors entered the ring, holding a microphone and politely calling for Chris' attention before he left the ring. With the music fading out, Amy stood beside the man, smiling as radiantly as ever as she spoke into the microphone. "Chris Wolfe, congratulations on your victory here, tonight. You just had one hell of a match, so I won't take up too much of your time. I just wanted to get a few questions from you for the fans; how are you feeling during, what many are calling, the Big Bad Breakout?"
"I'm feelin' good, Amy. *Damn* good, to tell you the truth. The Big Bad Breakout... I like that." He paused, catching his breath with a big grin. "I'm on a roll... and I ain't planning on slowin' down for anyone."
"Well, Chris, some fans certainly hope not, as it would seem you've been called the pick to win by a lot of people on social media. It goes without saying, you've got a lot of people at your back, ever since Highway to Hell when you and Tyler Grey ventured out on your own and away from the Circle of Snakes. Do you feel you career has taken a turn for the better since then?" Amy asked, offering the microphone up to Chris who - like practically everyone on the roster - was much taller than her.
"Of course it has. Look... I ain't here to talk shit on Abaddon. That's old news now. But The Circle was obviously not what I needed to get ahead in this place. Naw... I gotta do that shit on my own." Wolfe wiped some sweat from his brow, taking a sip from a bottle of water.
Amy Connors nodded, looking around at the crowd for a second before bringing the microphone back to her level. "Which brings me to one more question, Chris, on the subject of groups. A lot of people have been anxious to hear your answer, on this. I know, particularly, a certain few in the back who are probably watching right now. Chris, you have been offered a spot, by the NFW World Heavyweight Champion, among his tightly knit group. He says he believes in you. He sees greatness in you. Chris, do you have an answer for them yet? Will you be joining The Renegades?"
"You know.... I put a lot of thought into that." Wolfe told her, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I just got out of a stable... but damn. The Renegades seem to have their shit together, you know?" He looked out into the crowd, clenching his jaw in a little bit of anger. "Thing is... as I said on Twitter, respect means a lot to me. And for someone who wants me in his group.... Max LeBrun sure has talked a lot of shit on one of my good friends. Yeah. I'm talking about Adrianna. And to me? That's not exactly respectful." His eyes narrowed a little then. "And then, as I was thinking about the pros and the cons.... everything became crystal clear. Max 'thinks' I can be great? BITCH I'M ALREADY GREAT." He said, the crowd popping loudly. "Why the hell would I wanna be buddying up to a guy I KNOW I CAN BEAT? Yeah... you wanna talk shit on my friends, LeBrun? Screw you and screw your Renegades. I beat you once... you best be DAMN sure I'm bout to do it again, and this time, take your title."
"Whoa, whoa." Amy remarked, looking around at the wild crowd before turning to Chris again. "Are you issuing a formal challenge to the Heavyweight Champion, as a result of your victory over him in this tournament?"
"You damn right I am." Wolfe told her, pointing toward the locker room. "I earned a title shot by beating that arrogant prick... and when this tournament is over? You best believe I'ma sit down with Mr. Brody and plan out exactly when I'm coming to take that thing from you. All you do is run your damn mouth, LeBrun. You huff and you puff.... but you ain't never gonna be ready for the BIG.... BAD... WOLFE!" He said, dropping the mic and letting out a loud roar as his music hit to the cheers of the crowd.
Hanson: "And the challenge has been made!!"
Reynolds: "Wow! He wasted NO TIME in laying it out!"
Hanson: "The man earned his shot at the biggest prize this company has to offer and he wants it as soon as possible!
Reynolds: "You know, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the thought of seeing Wolfe and LeBrun lock up again is definitely a must see again in my book. They did have a great match."
Hanson: "Right there with ya, Jim!"
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*William Mannheim stands in front of the tournament backdrop, gently rubbing his ribs*
"You want my thoughts? Is that what this is all about? We're doing this post match shit? And apparently I HAVE to give my thoughts?"
*He wipes sweat from his brow with a bare hand, drying it on his shirt*
"Easy. I missed two points against Kenny Omega, and that's on me...that being said? It's Kenny fucking Omega. If I was gonna lose to anyone in this bracket, he's probably the only guy that wouldn't chafe my ass - and as you just saw, it clearly didn't."
"I'm not saying you didn't make me work, Minoru. You're like me, you think three steps ahead. That's something you might want to pass on to your boys in Suzuki-Gun."
*He paces back and forth, the camera following his movements*
"Same with my next match with Andy. Look, bud, you and I have done this dance before, and you and I both know it's gonna be a knock down, drag out, shit kicker...so let's do what we're good at. Let's tear the roof off, light the place on fire, and burn that motherfucker down."
"Go big, or go home, Andy...if I know you, you'll bring your big boy pants."
*Mannheim turns to walk away*
"That's enough, I'm done."
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Rick Dickulous defeated Shelton Benjamin in their block match, by pinfall, in 10:22 after giving him the Misery Whip.
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The main event of the evening saw Kota Ibushi and Max LeBrun clash in an epic contest, that had been buzzing on social media ever since the announcement of the tournament. The match reached a gruelling end after both men had beaten the hell out of each other, trading Slapshots and Kamigoye's left and right. Somehow, however, Max LeBrun was able to withstand the onslaught of strikes by Kota Ibushi and, when the Golden Star went for a sudden Boma Ye, the Toronto Daredevil threw himself back, letting Ibushi's leg sail over him as he grabbed his other leg and forced him face down onto the mat.
Reynolds: "OH, HE REVERSED IT!!!"
Hanson: "What the hell is he doing, now?!"
In an insane scramble for control between the two, Max LeBrun rolled himself backwards over on top of Kota Ibushi's back until he was in the right position and hooked him by the arms, promptly hoisting him up off of his feet and....
Hanson & Reynolds: "ANEURYSM!!!!"
Hanson: "THAT'S GOTTA BE IT!!"
1!!!
2!!!
3!!!
Reynolds: "THAT WAS INSANE, NICKY!!!!! WHAT A FRIGGIN' REVERSAL!!!"
Hanson: "Love him or hate him folks, it could be said, that's why he's our champion!"
Reynolds: "And with that, LeBrun finally scores some points worth talking about!"
As the crowd let out a mixture of cheers and boos, Max snatched the championship belt from the referee and called for a microphone.
Reynolds: "Looks like we're gonna hear from the man, Nicky."
Hanson: "Unfortunately...."
Coming to stand in the center of the ring, Max LeBrun fixd the title over his shoulder as he raised the microphone
"I think it's safe to say things just got a little darker...for the Golden Star...." He paused, as he was greeted with boos. Boos that only made that wicked grin of his grow wider. "And for me, they just got a hell of a lot brighter!" The crowd continued booing, as Max scowled back at them. "Am I in the lead? Obviously, not. Not yet. But, the thing about surprises is, they come when you least expect them! You all should know that, by now. And trust me when I say that I...am...FULL OF THEM!! You thought I couldn't survive the wrath of Buzzsaw. Surprise. I did. You thought I couldn't snuff out the Golden Star!" Max turned, pointing towards Kota Ibushi as he made his exit through the crowd alley. "Well, surprise! The Toronto Daredevil...has become the Starkiller!"
He turned back to the center of the ring, scowling coldly. "You people...who cling to your old legends...didn't think I would fulfill my own destiny. Well surprise...fucking...surprise...." He sneered, raising the championship off of his shoulder and into the air. "Where are your doubts now?! I will keep on doing what I need to do...until I silence...every...goddamn one of you!" Lowering the title, Max rolled his neck, wincing from the pain due to the punishment he endured during the match. "Now...I know there's something else that everyone's waiting to hear, so for once, I'll give you what you want...." He turned around, facing the entrance stage. "Wolfe...." At the mere mention of the name, the crowd gave an excited pop. "I made you an offer...I gave you a chance...and you spit it back in my face. Fine by me." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "But you should know how these things work...that old mentality...that old saying that goes...'if you're not with us...you're against us.' Chris, you made it perfectly clear, earlier, that you are most certainly against us. And trust me when I say, that is *NOT* a position that you wanna be in! You're pissed off because, what, that I told the truth? The truth about your friend? Sometimes the truth hurts, Chris. That's something that you and that walking case of family issues is just gonna have to get over! There ain't a goddamn thing that's come out of my mouth, since I came back to this company, that hasn't been true! But none of you can handle it! You wanna sit there and believe that your old time heroes have long careers ahead of them. Yeah, they might push to make it happen but it'll be against us. The NEW generation of wrestling. The real faces of the NEW Frontier! That's the cold...hard...truth of the matter, and if that pill is just too hard to swallow, then I will gladly be there to shove it down your throats!" The crowds boos were deafening as Max LeBrun snapped at them from all sides inside the ring.
Finally, he calmed down and pulled the title off of his shoulder, holding it in his hand. "Now...onto the current matter. This tournament isn't even over yet...hell, we've barely even started and I've already got a challenger banging on my door. Chris?" Max shook his head. "I'm not gonna deny it: you beat me last week...you did something that somebody with over ten years of experience couldn't do, two days later. Once again, people think I'm gonna cowar. They think I'm gonna run. Well, allow me to disappoint you all again. Chris Wolfe, you want your fucking shot at this?" He held the title up over his head, again. "You name the date...you name the venue...and come on up that ladder...because *I*...am on TOP of the fucking world!" He lowered the championship again, bringing his voice back down to normal volume. "...And I sure as hell...ain't afraid...of the Big Bad Wolfe...." Dropping the mic, Max extended his fist, pulling the pin as his music resumed throughout the arena.
Hanson: "And call that a challenge accepted, Jim!"
Reynolds: "Oh, you're damn right, Nicky! Chris Wolfe stepped up to the door and Max LeBrun said 'come on in!'"
Hanson: "We're gonna have a World Heavyweight Title match here, sooner or later! God knows when, but when this tournament comes to an end, the champ better be ready!"
Reynolds: "Oh, I think he *is* ready, Nicky!"
Hanson: "I think it goes without saying, though, Chris Wolfe might wanna think about having some eyes to watch his back going into this. History has shown that it isn't gonna be just Max that he's going up against."
Reynolds: "Believe me, if it comes to that, I don't think Chris Wolfe'll have any problems finding allies."
Hanson: "Me neither, Jim. Anyway, folks! That's our show for tonight. We hope you enjoyed it, and we'll see you back here tomorrow for B Block!"
~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 B 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: "QUEENS, NEW YORK, THANK YOU FOR JOINING US!! WELCOME TO THE VLAD BLACKHEART MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT!! WE ARE IN WEEK TWO OF THE ACTION!! I'M NICK HANSON, JOINED, AS ALWAYS, BY MY BROADCAST COLLEAGUE, JAMES REYNOLDS!!"
Reynolds: "Good afternoon. I'm James. James Reynolds."
Hanson: "Will you STOP with the Christopher Walken impersonation?! You don't even sound like him!"
Reynolds: "Nicky. I can't help it. The man...is a legend."
Hanson: *gives a heavy sigh and we can tell he's burying his face in his hand* "Anyway, we thank you for joining us, folks. We had an exciting series of events last week and we're gonna continue that action this week as NFW takes over the Carnesecca Arena. The folks at Barclay absolutely loved us last week, so let's keep that momentum going as we kick tonight off with the preliminary matches!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
Battle Beast's "Push It To The Limit" is heard from outside in the arena as Morgan Payne throws the curtain open and comes walking backstage towards the interview section with Shelton Benjamin. While Shelton has no words to say at the moment, Morgan walks RIGHT UP to the camera, sticking her face in the lens as she grabs hold of the camera with one hand.
"RYAN!! CANDI!!! HOW D'YINS LIKE THAT SHIT, HUH?!" She yells into the camera, with that signature wild eyed smile on her face. "YINS SHOULDA KNOWN THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN! RYAN, I HOPE YA COUGH A FUCKIN' TESTICLE UP! AND IF NOT, MAYBE THAT Y'CAN ASK THAT NEW HOOCH YINS PICKED UP TO RUB 'EM AND MAKE 'EM FEEL BETTER!!" Finally, she calms down, panting heavily as she looks around in front of her at the reporters and shrugs her hands at her sides. "Whatsamatta?"
"Umm...any thoughts on your next tag match, scheduled on the 1st of October, as we head into the second week?" A reporter, tentatively, asks.
Morgan wipes the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and addresses the camera again.
"YO! ADRIANNA! MIA! MARI AND I'LL SEE YINS IN QUEENS, HUH?! WHOOO!!" She throws the metal horns and starts pumping her fist as she marches out of frame where we can hear her yelling, "NOODLE DICK! NOODLE DICK!" All the way down the hallway. Shelton Benjamin walks off after her, a hysterical look on his face as he tries to keep from laughing.
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In the opening preliminary match, the team of Connor K, AKI and the McKeesport Mafia defeated Suzuki-Gun by pinfall in 15:40 when BDP and The Punisher delivered a double powerbomb to Lance Archer, followed by Connor K flying off of the top rope with a frog splash for the cover.
Hanson: "AND CONNOR K SCORES A PINFALL AGAINST SUZUKI-GUN!!"
Reynolds: "THESE GUYS, NICKY! THEY'VE BEEN...HOUNDING HIM FOR WEEKS!! PAYBACK...IS A BITCH!!!"
Hanson: "My god, just stop it, okay? Just stop it!"
Reynolds: "Nicky. Relax. Enjoy the show."
Hanson: "...Fuck my life."
Reynolds: "Nicky! You need to learn...to watch the profanity!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
I Prevail's "Come And Get It" can be heard as Nico Salvatore flings the curtain aside and goes storming right passed the cameras in front of the backdrop.
"NICO!!" We hear Adrianna Salvatore's voice call out before she emerges through the curtain, seconds later. "Nico, what...." She trails off as she comes to a stop, in front of the camera. Throwing her hands up, in a lost shrug, she turns towards the camera, absolutely speechless. Motioning with her hands in the direction Nico went, she clearly doesn't know what to say on the matter and simply hurries off to try and catch up with the man.
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In the second preliminary match, The Unwanted and The Iron Maidens wrestled to an incredible 25 minute draw. After the bell, the two teams stood before one another in what looked to be a slightly tense standoff. This lasted a moment, before Adrianna extended a fist bump to the Iron Maidens, earning a pop from the crowd.
Hanson: "Well, this is a surprise."
Reynolds: "Indeed. A pleasant surprise, Nicky." *Reynolds is still going with his Christopher Walken impersonation*
Afterwards, the two teams separated, both heading up the main ramp at intervals to give each other space.
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*A picturesque valley is shown in a wide angled shot, the fall colours of the deciduous trees bursting through the intermixed conifers. A river flows lazily through the valley, and barely visible in the distance two men stand thigh deep in the river, fishing. As the shot zooms on the men, it becomes clear that they aren't average sized men. Soon it becomes clear that the two men are none other than William Mannheim and Pitt, Mannheim with a fishing rod, Pitt carrying a shotgun under his arm. Mannheim wears realtree camo waders and a sweatshirt, with a black beanie on his head, Pitt is simply dressed in jeans, and a plaid button down shirt, a straw hat covering his long dark hair. A quick cut has a cameraman in the water along with the two*
"Willy, I think I have a vagina right now...this water's fucking cold!"
*Pitt stops wading forward and looks around confused*
"Wait...they didn't...."
*Mannheim stops a few feet ahead of Pitt and checks his fishing gear*
"Maybe we're out of their jurisdiction...ever thought about that?"
*Pitt scoffs*
"Yeah, right. More like it's my fucking awesome disguise! Remember? You said we were gonna trash them Rebel Rousers, and I better play my part....well, ta daa!"
"Pitt, seriously? Shut the fuck up. I'm about to cast, and you're scaring the fish. When I said we were gonna trash The Rebel Rousers, I meant in the ring, dummy!"
*Pitt thinks for a minute*
"So then, why are we out here hunting and fishing, dressed like hillbillies instead of smoking some of the good shit with Rick?"
"Pitt...YOU are dressed like a cowboy...I am dressed as someone who wants their big dumb fucking idiot of a friend to shut the fuck up so he can fish. You don't have to be a hillbilly to enjoy fishing, or hunting, or both..."
"Look, all I'm sayin here is we're totally missing out on fucking comedy gold."
*Pitt looks around above his head and nods*
"Willy, I could totally get used to this....I mean the no fucking beeep, beeep, beeep whenever I say fuck...."
*Mannheim turns around and takes a step towards Pitt, a look of sheer annoyance on his face*
"Dude, seriously...why don't you take your vagina on over to the bank and say fuck all ya want. I seriously just want to fish!"
*Pitt groans as he turns around*
"Man, when can I at least shoot something? Fuck, man, I wouldn't have a vagina anymore...just sayin'..."
*Pitt sloshes towards the bank. Mannheim calls after him*
"Look, if something's coming, and you don't shoot anywhere near me, you have at it...you're being too fucking loud all excited that you can swear, THAT'S why you haven't shot anything."
*The camera pans back to Mannheim as he turns back to face the middle of the river, rechecking his gear. He turns and looks at the camera as he does*
"Look, Teddy and Chase? Two things. One: how is walking through the woods alongside an oversized retarded chimp with a shotgun fun? I mean, I'm not sayin' all you country boys do it...really. I'm asking for a friend, that's it..."
*Satisfied, Mannheim finally prepares himself and tosses a lovely cast right into the middle of the river. The fluorescent orange bobber sinks, then shoots back up, bouncing a few times before settling down on the calm surface*
"And two: I've noticed something about you two. You remind me of the retarded chimp with the shotgun back there and me back in the day. Seems to me this tournament's bringing out a bunch of that nostalgia, and all that. So, listen, you guys want some training partners? Look us up. That's not sarcasm, either."
*Pitt clears his throat from a place off camera which sounds to be approximately 10 feet behind Mannheim*
"You know, I can hear you, right? They are pretty fucking good, I mean, maybe they're not as good looking as we are...but we can work around that, right, Willy?"
*Mannheim clicks the reel a few times, retaining tension on the fishing line*
"Sure we can. But first we show them how it's done in--"
*Mannheim yanks his rod up sharply and begins reeling, the drag of the reel clicking like crazy as his catch runs with the bait. Mannheim keeps the tip of the rod up as a large rainbow trout leaps majestically from the water, slapping back into the surface of the water and resuming the fight*
"Sweet zombie Jesus, Willy...that's a fucking keeper for sure!"
*The camera pans back to show Pitt staring off towards where Willy's trout jumped, then back out to the river. As the trout jumps again, the unmistakeable shriek of a bird of prey can be heard as an eagle shoots into frame, catching the fish in its talons. As it opens its wings to shoot back up, the unmistakeable sound of a shotgun being chambered can be heard offscreen, followed by the roar of a shotgun blast. The eagle continues upward as a second round is chambered and fired, the eagle spiraling out of the air*
"YEEEEEHAAWWWW, WILLY! I GOT THE COCKSUCKER!!!"
*The camera pans to Mannheim, who stares at the camera and shrugs, as the shot fades to black*
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In the final preliminary match, the Army of Darkness defeated the Rebel Rousers by pinfall in 12:08 after delivering taking Chase Evans on a Trip to Hell, with Mannheim making the cover.
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Following the preliminary matches, the ringside crew is seen straightening everything up as we are greeted by Nick Hanson and James Reynolds, again.
Reynolds: "Ladies and gentlemen...." *Still impersonating Christopher Walken* "It's time. For more action. From A Block."
Hanson: "God, someone tell Suzuki to come out here and give him a forearm. Hell, give ME one!"
Reynolds: "Now, Nicky. That's harsh. Harsh words, for your partner."
Hanson: "Whatever, Jim. Just shut up and let me read this. Alright, folks, here are the standings for A Block, thus far."
Reynolds: "Please, do. Read them. Nicky."
We hear what sounds like a headset being removed before being tossed away and to the floor. Distant from the headset's microphone, we hear James Reynolds calling out "hey dick! What the fuck, Nicky?!"
Hanson: "Pardon the interruption, folks. Ahem! Alright, so Nico Salvatore currently leads A Block with four points. Buzzsaw is trailing right behind him with three points. Shelton Benjamin, Chris Wolfe, Rick Dickulous, Kane, Zack Sabre Jr, and Kota Ibushi, all have two points. Max LeBrun sits at one, and Matt Klazzic still has yet to get on the board. With that being said, let's kick off our first of five A Block matches, tonight."
As Hanson finishes up, we hear James Reynolds sliding his headset back on as he sits back down.
Reynolds: "Nicky. That was. The rudest thing. I've ever seen you do."
Hanson: "If you keep that up, I'm gonna shove that headset where Judas Lasher'll need to use the Devil's Lock to get it out."
Reynolds: "Seriously?"
Hanson: "Do I look like I'm playing, Jim?"
Reynolds: *returning to his normal voice and mannerisms* "Okay, okay. Fair enough. Jeez, you can be a real hardass, sometimes."
Hanson: *In a much more impersonation of Christopher Walken* "Watch the profanity, Jimmy."
Reynolds: "...Okay, *THAT* was fucking good! You sounded just like him."
Hanson: "Bones."
We get a brief shot of the two as Reynolds gives Hanson a fist bump before the announcer begins announcing that A Block is about to begin.
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In the opening block match for the day, Zack Sabre Jr. defeated Matt Klazzic by pinfall in 19:06 after, to the shock of the crowd, busting out the Zack Driver.
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
Following Andrew Payne and Tama Tonga's block match, the G.O.D come walking through the curtain, into the backstage area. The interview camera catches them as they appear with Tanga helping his brother with an arm over his shoulders, despite being in obvious pain himself from the attack by the man from the crowd.
"Fuuuuuck!" Tanga Loa groans in frustration and pain as he lets go of Tama and leans against the promotional backdrop. "Who...who the fuck was that fool, bruh? Dude was...." Out of breath and at a loss for words, Tanga motions with his hand at how tall The Punisher's new ally was, "...dude was fuckin' huge!"
"This is some bullshit right here, man!" Tama shouted, as he grabbed a nearby trashcan and threw it at the wall in a rage. "How the hell they gonna have someone planted in the crowd ready to interfere? What happened to the integrity of the damn tournament and all that shit?"
"Um.... but he only stopped your brother from interfer-" One backstage staffer interjected, before Tama cut him off, practically flailing.
"WHO THE FUCK IS YOU???" He shouted with a gesture towards the staffer. "You bitches don't know shit! He was just showing his support for me. That's all. Whatever though... that's fine. These jackasses want a war? We'll give 'em a war."
"Hey, yo, fuck these bitch asses, bruh." Tanga said with disdain on his face, waving the reporters off. "And fuck those Mafia, bitches. Y'all ain't the only ones with a big motherfucker in yo squad!!" Tanga snapped. "And as for Suzuki? Ey, man." Laughing sadistically through his teeth, Tanga slapped Tama on the shoulder. "Bruh, whatchu got to say to the fuckin' 'KING' of pro wrestling?" He said mockingly, as he motioned with his hands as if he were reading the title off of a marquis.
"Tell you what I say." Tama replied, holding up a middle finger and thrusting it right into the camera. "FUCK the "king". Old-ass motherfucker... you ain't the king of SHIT. 'Specially not around here."
Slapping Tama on the back, Tanga laughed mockingly into the camera. "HAHAAAAAAAAAA!! YEYUH!! Get yo ass whupped in that ring on Wednesday! Then maybe get them fucked up crop circles on yo head lined up." Tanga taunted, circling his finger around his head in a mockery towards Suzuki's hair. "Lookin' like Mel Gibson's crops in Signs an'shit." Tanga said as he and Tama strolled off, down the hall, throwing each other a 'too sweet'.
***********************************************************************
Moments later, "The Punisher" Andrew Payne steps through the curtain, into the backstage area. Right there, with him, is the mysterious man in the black partial-suit attire that attacked Tanga Loa before he was able to interfere in Payne's block match. Sliding the straps to his gear down, Payne stops in front of the camera, raising a finger as he addresses Tama Tonga.
"Tama...I told you that your shit wasn't gonna fly. That there were gonna be consequences...." He says, catching his breath still. "You tried to have your brother get involved, despite knowing what would happen. But thankfully...D and I had our own insurance policy. See, we don't want you gone. Not yet. D still hasn't gotten a piece of you yet. So we had to make sure that the rules were enforced. We are the McKeesport Mafia, afterall...." Payne remarks, stepping slightly to the side. "And if you're gonna be a mafia, you need an enforcer. This here's a good friend of D and I, Carmine Moretti." Payne gives the big man in the partial suit, a slap on the chest. G.O.D...you might be banging heads with the Army of Darkness, but passed a personal line with us. Just like the Renegades did. So, yeah, if we're going to war with practically everyone that isn't Mafia, it only makes sense that we call in the big guns."
Finally, Andrew Payne, rolled his neck, still feeling it from Tama Tonga's Gun Stun. "That's all I've got on that matter. We're with Connor and AKI in Queens on Monday. We're helping them out with Suzuki-Gun. I've got William Mannheim, the day after. The Mafia's getting busy. Willy? No tricks. You and I both know the stipulations. Carmine here'll keep to his own, so long as Pitt stays out of it. This is out of respect for Vlad's family. Let's do this one on one and call it a day." Finally, Andrew turns to Carmine and gives him daps. "Grazie per l'aiuto, lĂ fuori, fratello." He says, mainly to Carmine himself rather than to the cameras before the two make their way off, down the hall.
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Buzzsaw defeated Nico Salvatore by submission in 16:01 when he locked Nico into the DNR for over a minute. Rather than tapping out, Nico continued to struggle to escape the hold until Buzzsaw eventually ended up choking him unconscious. The referee called for the bell before motioning for Buzzsaw to release the hold, leaving Nico laying prone in the ring while staff worked on waking him up.
Reynolds: "Wooooow! Did he just choke out the Urban Gladiator?!"
Hanson: "He did, Jim! And now he leads A Block with five points!"
Reynolds: "Amazing what a big difference just one night can make!"
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 4 - B BLOCK]
As the camera and interviewers all anxiously work in a gaggle to try and get a word with Judas Lasher, following his match with Big Daddy Payne, they suddenly break apart as the hulking form of Doomsday shoves them out of the way. As always, he's in his mask, but otherwise he wears black street clothes consisting of jeans, boots and a sleeveless, old school Cannibal Corpse t-shirt. "Give him some goddamn room!" He almost roars as he gives Judas his massive stature to lean on, should he need it.
"Judas!" One reporter calls out. "You just defeated Big Daddy Payne and are still one of the leaders for B Block. How does that make you feel?"
Even through his mask, it was obvious that Doomsday thought that was a dumb question. Nonetheless, he remained silent and looked to Judas.
Lasher gave what can only be described as an alarmingly happy smile, indeed leaning against his friend as he caught his breath, holding an ice pack to the side of his neck as he spoke. "I think that match... should silence anyone who wondered if these two old men could still go. I told everyone going into this - I am determined to be the first winner of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Cup. There is nobody in this tournament: not Payne, not Daniels, not Kane... not even my brother The Buzzsaw.... that needs to win this the way I do. I want to honor my best friend. And Dark Lord willing... that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"Judas, as the one that many long time fans are still calling one of the major faces of NFW, do you have any thoughts or words specifically, going into your third match next week against the man that people are calling the new face of New Japan, Kenny Omega? A man who sounds as equally determined as you to be the first winner of this tournament." Another reporter asks.
"I'm not going to say anything derogatory about Kenny Omega." Lasher said, turning to give a quick hug to Lara Blackheart, who'd made her way over briefly. "The man is possibly the best in the world right now. The question is going to be... can he overcome the pure darkness I will channel coming into this match? What I may lack in youth, I make up for in determination. And I promise you, Kenny Omega has never seen anything like what he will be facing."
"Excuse me, Lara?" Another reporter chimes in. "Do *you* have any thoughts on the match we just saw or Judas Lasher's next one to come?"
"Ohhhhh no." Lara laughed, holding up a hand. "I am not even here as a Dominion member right now. This is just me congratulating my godfather. But.... if Dominion!Lara *was* here? She'd only have one thing to say to Kenny Omega." She started to walk away, before turning back, to make a gun gesture with her hand. "Goodbye... and good night. BANG."
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Chris Wolfe defeated Kane in their block match, by pinfall, in 9:57 after hitting him with a diving top rope DDT.
Hanson: "CHRIS WOLFE DEFEATS KANE!!!!! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!!"
Reynolds: "WHO'S AFRAID OF THE BIG BAD WOLFE!!!!"
Hanson: "I'll admit, Kane came into this tournament hot as hell - pardon the pun - but Chris Wolfe has been shocking the world with his performances as of late! Not a perfect tournament record, but this is only the third night for A Block and we've still got a way's to go!"
Reynolds: "Plus, don't forget. Wolfe has the Women's Champion's endorsement to win this whole thing."
Hanson: "He very well could, Jim. He said he wanted to make a statement and that he was striving for glory. He may just achieve both of those before this event is over."
As Therapy & Fatal's "Come And Die" blared on, throughout the arena, Amy Connors entered the ring, holding a microphone and politely calling for Chris' attention before he left the ring. With the music fading out, Amy stood beside the man, smiling as radiantly as ever as she spoke into the microphone. "Chris Wolfe, congratulations on your victory here, tonight. You just had one hell of a match, so I won't take up too much of your time. I just wanted to get a few questions from you for the fans; how are you feeling during, what many are calling, the Big Bad Breakout?"
"I'm feelin' good, Amy. *Damn* good, to tell you the truth. The Big Bad Breakout... I like that." He paused, catching his breath with a big grin. "I'm on a roll... and I ain't planning on slowin' down for anyone."
"Well, Chris, some fans certainly hope not, as it would seem you've been called the pick to win by a lot of people on social media. It goes without saying, you've got a lot of people at your back, ever since Highway to Hell when you and Tyler Grey ventured out on your own and away from the Circle of Snakes. Do you feel you career has taken a turn for the better since then?" Amy asked, offering the microphone up to Chris who - like practically everyone on the roster - was much taller than her.
"Of course it has. Look... I ain't here to talk shit on Abaddon. That's old news now. But The Circle was obviously not what I needed to get ahead in this place. Naw... I gotta do that shit on my own." Wolfe wiped some sweat from his brow, taking a sip from a bottle of water.
Amy Connors nodded, looking around at the crowd for a second before bringing the microphone back to her level. "Which brings me to one more question, Chris, on the subject of groups. A lot of people have been anxious to hear your answer, on this. I know, particularly, a certain few in the back who are probably watching right now. Chris, you have been offered a spot, by the NFW World Heavyweight Champion, among his tightly knit group. He says he believes in you. He sees greatness in you. Chris, do you have an answer for them yet? Will you be joining The Renegades?"
"You know.... I put a lot of thought into that." Wolfe told her, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I just got out of a stable... but damn. The Renegades seem to have their shit together, you know?" He looked out into the crowd, clenching his jaw in a little bit of anger. "Thing is... as I said on Twitter, respect means a lot to me. And for someone who wants me in his group.... Max LeBrun sure has talked a lot of shit on one of my good friends. Yeah. I'm talking about Adrianna. And to me? That's not exactly respectful." His eyes narrowed a little then. "And then, as I was thinking about the pros and the cons.... everything became crystal clear. Max 'thinks' I can be great? BITCH I'M ALREADY GREAT." He said, the crowd popping loudly. "Why the hell would I wanna be buddying up to a guy I KNOW I CAN BEAT? Yeah... you wanna talk shit on my friends, LeBrun? Screw you and screw your Renegades. I beat you once... you best be DAMN sure I'm bout to do it again, and this time, take your title."
"Whoa, whoa." Amy remarked, looking around at the wild crowd before turning to Chris again. "Are you issuing a formal challenge to the Heavyweight Champion, as a result of your victory over him in this tournament?"
"You damn right I am." Wolfe told her, pointing toward the locker room. "I earned a title shot by beating that arrogant prick... and when this tournament is over? You best believe I'ma sit down with Mr. Brody and plan out exactly when I'm coming to take that thing from you. All you do is run your damn mouth, LeBrun. You huff and you puff.... but you ain't never gonna be ready for the BIG.... BAD... WOLFE!" He said, dropping the mic and letting out a loud roar as his music hit to the cheers of the crowd.
Hanson: "And the challenge has been made!!"
Reynolds: "Wow! He wasted NO TIME in laying it out!"
Hanson: "The man earned his shot at the biggest prize this company has to offer and he wants it as soon as possible!
Reynolds: "You know, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the thought of seeing Wolfe and LeBrun lock up again is definitely a must see again in my book. They did have a great match."
Hanson: "Right there with ya, Jim!"
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*William Mannheim stands in front of the tournament backdrop, gently rubbing his ribs*
"You want my thoughts? Is that what this is all about? We're doing this post match shit? And apparently I HAVE to give my thoughts?"
*He wipes sweat from his brow with a bare hand, drying it on his shirt*
"Easy. I missed two points against Kenny Omega, and that's on me...that being said? It's Kenny fucking Omega. If I was gonna lose to anyone in this bracket, he's probably the only guy that wouldn't chafe my ass - and as you just saw, it clearly didn't."
"I'm not saying you didn't make me work, Minoru. You're like me, you think three steps ahead. That's something you might want to pass on to your boys in Suzuki-Gun."
*He paces back and forth, the camera following his movements*
"Same with my next match with Andy. Look, bud, you and I have done this dance before, and you and I both know it's gonna be a knock down, drag out, shit kicker...so let's do what we're good at. Let's tear the roof off, light the place on fire, and burn that motherfucker down."
"Go big, or go home, Andy...if I know you, you'll bring your big boy pants."
*Mannheim turns to walk away*
"That's enough, I'm done."
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Rick Dickulous defeated Shelton Benjamin in their block match, by pinfall, in 10:22 after giving him the Misery Whip.
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The main event of the evening saw Kota Ibushi and Max LeBrun clash in an epic contest, that had been buzzing on social media ever since the announcement of the tournament. The match reached a gruelling end after both men had beaten the hell out of each other, trading Slapshots and Kamigoye's left and right. Somehow, however, Max LeBrun was able to withstand the onslaught of strikes by Kota Ibushi and, when the Golden Star went for a sudden Boma Ye, the Toronto Daredevil threw himself back, letting Ibushi's leg sail over him as he grabbed his other leg and forced him face down onto the mat.
Reynolds: "OH, HE REVERSED IT!!!"
Hanson: "What the hell is he doing, now?!"
In an insane scramble for control between the two, Max LeBrun rolled himself backwards over on top of Kota Ibushi's back until he was in the right position and hooked him by the arms, promptly hoisting him up off of his feet and....
Hanson & Reynolds: "ANEURYSM!!!!"
Hanson: "THAT'S GOTTA BE IT!!"
1!!!
2!!!
3!!!
Reynolds: "THAT WAS INSANE, NICKY!!!!! WHAT A FRIGGIN' REVERSAL!!!"
Hanson: "Love him or hate him folks, it could be said, that's why he's our champion!"
Reynolds: "And with that, LeBrun finally scores some points worth talking about!"
As the crowd let out a mixture of cheers and boos, Max snatched the championship belt from the referee and called for a microphone.
Reynolds: "Looks like we're gonna hear from the man, Nicky."
Hanson: "Unfortunately...."
Coming to stand in the center of the ring, Max LeBrun fixd the title over his shoulder as he raised the microphone
"I think it's safe to say things just got a little darker...for the Golden Star...." He paused, as he was greeted with boos. Boos that only made that wicked grin of his grow wider. "And for me, they just got a hell of a lot brighter!" The crowd continued booing, as Max scowled back at them. "Am I in the lead? Obviously, not. Not yet. But, the thing about surprises is, they come when you least expect them! You all should know that, by now. And trust me when I say that I...am...FULL OF THEM!! You thought I couldn't survive the wrath of Buzzsaw. Surprise. I did. You thought I couldn't snuff out the Golden Star!" Max turned, pointing towards Kota Ibushi as he made his exit through the crowd alley. "Well, surprise! The Toronto Daredevil...has become the Starkiller!"
He turned back to the center of the ring, scowling coldly. "You people...who cling to your old legends...didn't think I would fulfill my own destiny. Well surprise...fucking...surprise...." He sneered, raising the championship off of his shoulder and into the air. "Where are your doubts now?! I will keep on doing what I need to do...until I silence...every...goddamn one of you!" Lowering the title, Max rolled his neck, wincing from the pain due to the punishment he endured during the match. "Now...I know there's something else that everyone's waiting to hear, so for once, I'll give you what you want...." He turned around, facing the entrance stage. "Wolfe...." At the mere mention of the name, the crowd gave an excited pop. "I made you an offer...I gave you a chance...and you spit it back in my face. Fine by me." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "But you should know how these things work...that old mentality...that old saying that goes...'if you're not with us...you're against us.' Chris, you made it perfectly clear, earlier, that you are most certainly against us. And trust me when I say, that is *NOT* a position that you wanna be in! You're pissed off because, what, that I told the truth? The truth about your friend? Sometimes the truth hurts, Chris. That's something that you and that walking case of family issues is just gonna have to get over! There ain't a goddamn thing that's come out of my mouth, since I came back to this company, that hasn't been true! But none of you can handle it! You wanna sit there and believe that your old time heroes have long careers ahead of them. Yeah, they might push to make it happen but it'll be against us. The NEW generation of wrestling. The real faces of the NEW Frontier! That's the cold...hard...truth of the matter, and if that pill is just too hard to swallow, then I will gladly be there to shove it down your throats!" The crowds boos were deafening as Max LeBrun snapped at them from all sides inside the ring.
Finally, he calmed down and pulled the title off of his shoulder, holding it in his hand. "Now...onto the current matter. This tournament isn't even over yet...hell, we've barely even started and I've already got a challenger banging on my door. Chris?" Max shook his head. "I'm not gonna deny it: you beat me last week...you did something that somebody with over ten years of experience couldn't do, two days later. Once again, people think I'm gonna cowar. They think I'm gonna run. Well, allow me to disappoint you all again. Chris Wolfe, you want your fucking shot at this?" He held the title up over his head, again. "You name the date...you name the venue...and come on up that ladder...because *I*...am on TOP of the fucking world!" He lowered the championship again, bringing his voice back down to normal volume. "...And I sure as hell...ain't afraid...of the Big Bad Wolfe...." Dropping the mic, Max extended his fist, pulling the pin as his music resumed throughout the arena.
Hanson: "And call that a challenge accepted, Jim!"
Reynolds: "Oh, you're damn right, Nicky! Chris Wolfe stepped up to the door and Max LeBrun said 'come on in!'"
Hanson: "We're gonna have a World Heavyweight Title match here, sooner or later! God knows when, but when this tournament comes to an end, the champ better be ready!"
Reynolds: "Oh, I think he *is* ready, Nicky!"
Hanson: "I think it goes without saying, though, Chris Wolfe might wanna think about having some eyes to watch his back going into this. History has shown that it isn't gonna be just Max that he's going up against."
Reynolds: "Believe me, if it comes to that, I don't think Chris Wolfe'll have any problems finding allies."
Hanson: "Me neither, Jim. Anyway, folks! That's our show for tonight. We hope you enjoyed it, and we'll see you back here tomorrow for B Block!"
