NFW Collision #62 - Syracuse, NY! 01/21/2020!

The camera sweeps high over the inside of the Oncenter War Memorial Arena in Syracuse, New York as the pop from the audience nearly drowns out the music. Fans are rocking their t-shirts and face paint as they hold their signs up above their heads while the camera captures the inside of the sold out arena. Finally then, the camera cuts over to the announce table where Nick Hanson and Matteo Salvatore are sitting at their table. Nick, as always, wears one of his fine suits. Matteo dresses more casually with a solid pull over shirt under his black blazer. Even retired from in-ring action, there’s still something intimidating about the man, even though his expression is calm and pleasant.


Nick Hanson: Good evening and welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to NFW Tuesday Night Collision. We are LIVE here in beautiful Syracuse, New York; inside the Oncenter War Memorial Arena. I’m Nick Hanson, joined by my new broadcast partner; the one, the only, professional wrestling veteran, former World Champion. You may know him better as Doomsday but here he is, Matt Salvatore. How’s it going, Matt? No metal grinders under the table?

Matt Salvatore: *laughs* Not this time, Nick. Maybe next week.

Nick Hanson: I may call in sick.

Matt Salvatore: No need. How’s it going man? Glad to be working with you.

They shake hands.

Nick Hanson: You ever do commentary before?

Matt Salvatore: Not a whole lot. I did some on the indies in Pittsburgh when the kids -- well I call them kids, but anyway -- when they started getting their feet wet, we used to run shows out of Dan and Andy’s school. Dan ran the whole thing and he was like ‘hey we should try and set up some commentary.’ So there’s the ring, about five hundred people sitting in chairs surrounding it. You got me and Andy sitting there at a fucking picnic table with microphones in our hands, calling matches. Good times.

Nick Hanson: And now here you are and Andy’s over on Trauma. Is that why Steven Brody hired you two specifically?

Matt Salvatore: It could be. We met Steve when he came in talent scouting. That’s where he picked the kids up. Nico, Marissa, Lara, Morgan. Addy stayed back, as you know. The others went to Chicago for their developmental territory. I don’t think a lot of people that watch know about it. It’s called the Collision Center. They sharpen your skills there and you run unaired local shows for about two thousand fans. Not sure if they’re gonna build one for people training for Trauma. They might, might not.

Nick Hanson: Call it the Trauma Ward!

Matt Salvatore: Hey, that’s good! I like it!

Nick Hanson: Well, it’s great having you with us again. Congratulations on your in-ring retirement again; I know it’s been a few months.

Matt Salvatore: Thank you, Nick. It’s good to be back. I have to admit, I watched Wrestle War last week and everybody brought it. I started to feel that itch again but I was like…..ahhhhh nah, I really shouldn’t.

Nick Hanson: Well, instead, you ready to call some matches and give your take?

Matt Salvatore: Absolutely, Nick. Let’s get this show rolling. First up here in a moment, we got Caine Marik making his debut for NFW against Starlight! We’ll get to that in a moment, but first if you’re watching this on your television at home, you’re missing out. Here’s how you can get our weekly broadcasts and more, all on the All Access Network.
Roger Arden: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall!

Crowd: ONE FALL!!!

Ayumi Nakamura’s “Become The Wind” sounds throughout the arena as Caine Marik walks out on stage. Without any posing or pandering to the crowd, Caine walks down the ramp, approaching the ring with cold, hard focus on his face. Upon reaching the ring, he walks up the steps and gets into the ring; moving to his corner, he pulls on the ropes, starting to warm up for the match.

Roger Arden: Introducing first...from Salem, Massachusetts. Weighing in at 225lbs. The Black Swan...CAINE...MARIK!!!

Two random voices are heard speaking as if in demonic tones over the system, as the lights go out. The camera pans over to the top of the stage area where three red siren lights begin to spin. The voices continue speaking the lights continue to go.

Yeah, Be prepared.

Yeah-heh... we'll be prepared, heh.

...For what?

For the death of the Queen.

Why? Is she sick?

No, fool-- we're going to kill her.

Great idea! Who needs a Queen?

No Queen! No Queen! la--la-la--la-laa-laa!

Idiots! There will be a Queen!

Hey, but you said, uh...

Then a loud scream is heard, as she begins cackling over the system. Then the final line is spoken as a tall woman steps out from behind the curtain. A gas mask covers her face as her long raven hair falls to one side. She raises the microphone to her face.

Starlight: *I*...will be queen!

Poor Unfortunate Souls by Jonathan Young begins playing over the system as her arms go above her head in an X as her hashtag appears on the screen. #Queenslayer appears as blue spotlights appear on the ramp. She walks down the ramp letting her coat flow behind her as she drapes her arms to her side. She looks at the fans as she reaches the bottom of the ramp, She turns then raises her hands and the lights come on, she goes over to the steps slamming her hands down on them hard as she looks into the ring. She growls as she climbs up the stairs standing on the outside of the ring, she climbs through, taking the gas mask off looking at her opponent laughing as she climbs the turnbuckle, placing her hands above her head in an X once more as she drops down turning to face her opponent. She takes her coat and gas mask to her corner.

Roger Arden: ...his opponent! Weighing in at one hundred thirty five pounds….STARLIGHT!!!

~DING DING DING~

The bell rings, and Marik and Starlight rush the center of the ring, throwing and blocking strikes in a whirlwind as the crowd cheers in surprise. High kick by Starlight. Marik blocks, before throwing a punch that Starlight side steps before sending a sharp kick into her opponent’s calf. The Black Swan checks the kick, grabbing Starlight and locking up. He whips her toward the ropes, catching her with a dropkick as she comes back, dropping Starlight to the mat. Marik moves in to attack his prone opponent, but Starlight strikes like a viper lying in wait, grabbing Caine by the ankle and yanking him off his feet, twisting the limb as she screams. Marik curses, punching the mat as he reaches out and grabs the bottom rope. The ref gets to a four count before Starlight backs off, but she doesn’t give Marik time to get to his feet before kicking him hard in the ribs, then yanking him up to his feet by his hair and dropping him back down with an inverted DDT.

The crowd is really getting into it, chanting Marik’s name as Starlight waves them off. She hits the ropes, coming back and jumping over her opponent, dropping a knee directly onto his chest. Caine exhales forcefully, sitting up and clutching at his sternum. Starlight sets her stance, firing off a kick aimed at his head, but the Black Swan lays back, seeing it coming, causing his opponent to over rotate before he scrambles to his feet, quickly wrapping Starlight up and dropping her with DOOMSDAY SAITO! He scrambles in for a cover!

One!

TWO!!

Starlight kicks out. Marik goes into the mount, firing punches down at Starlight as she covers up. Caine attempts to drop a hammer fist, but Starlight catches the blow, twisting his arm and putting him into an armbar! Caine screams out in pain as Starlight wrenches on the limb, the arm turning in ways it’s not really meant to. Marik lands an errant punch to the side of Starlight’s head, causing her grip to falter and allowing him to back off, holding his elbow. He’s wearing an expression of pain as Starlight gets to her feet.

The Black Swan and the Queenslayer are circling now, watching for any possible opening. Caine lunges forward, looking for a lariat! Starlight counters with a brutal roundhouse kick to the side of the face, stunning Marik! The Queenslayer’s got him up in vertical suplex position! NO! She’s going for it! LEGION DRIVER! Middle of the ring! Caine has nowhere to go! He’s refusing to tap as Starlight cinches in the choke tight! The Black Swan has gone limp! The referee comes in. He’s checking on Marik and he calls for the bell! Starlight wins via submission!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner! STARLIGHT!!!!!

Matt Salvatore: Wow, Nick! This girl is NOT playing around! She means business in her comeback!

Nick Hanson: You’ve definitely gotta give it to her, Matt! She’s polished up nicely in her absence and she came back to make a statement!

As “Poor Unfortunate Souls” plays, Starlight drop rolls out of the ring and simply makes her way up the ramp, not looking back at the ring or at the fans. The silent victor throws the curtain aside and disappears as we cut away.

“Dark Sentencer” can be heard playing as Collision comes back from a break and in the middle of the ring are the now former NFW Tag Team Champions, Bloody Fairytale. The crowd here is showing them exactly how they feel as they are hit with a chorus of boos. The two of them stand there as Christina calls for the music to cut. The two of them stand there, soaking in the booing as they just look at each other and chuckle a little bit. Once the crowd dies down, Christina finally decides to bring the microphone up to her mouth.

Christina Olson:
Oh, come on Buffalo. Be happy that we decided to come out here on a night off and grace you with our presence.

Once again, a sea of boos fills the arena as Lilth pulls the microphone to her and speaks up.

Lilith Meadows:
Tá rud éigin le rá againn, mar sin dúnta suas!

The boos grow even louder as Lilith speaks in Gaelic and looks genuinely angry right now as she looks at her waist and then at Christina’s, seeing the lack of championship gold around them.

Christina Olson:
Don’t worry, Lil, these assholes wouldn’t know their ass from their face if you didn’t tell them which was which.

Again, the boos shower down on them as Lilith takes the microphone again.

Lilith Meadows:
Dúirt mé dúnta suas!

Lilith stomps her foot on the mat and glares around at the crowd who only seem to laugh at her little tantrum she has on display right now.

Christina Olson:
Calm down, Lily. They don’t know how to respect actual talent out here in the ring.

Christina laughs as she gives Lilith a quick hug and the blonde nods her head and stands there, arms crossed her expression going blank and cold.

Christina Olson:
Last Tuesday, WrestleWar Sixteen, the night Bloody Fairytale lost their Tag Team Championships to a couple of fucking goof balls who call themselves cute raccoons. Yeah, in case you idiots didn’t know, that’s what Kawaii Trash Pandas means.

The crowd once again boos at the insult, but Christina just carries on.

Christina Olson:
But can those two really call themselves the champions? Sure, they won a triple threat match. Good on them. But they didn’t pin us! They didn’t beat the champions in that match. No, they chose the easy option. They chose to pin the team that never should have had a chance to be in the match in the first place. They pinned the nerd squad to win that match.

Lilith once again grabs the microphone and steps in front of Christina.

Lilith Olson:
Ní mór dúinn buille a chur orainn chun go mbeifeá in ann glacadh le Seaimpíní, racúin agus tú féin. Agus tá a fhios againn araon nach féidir leat sinn a bhualadh nuair nach bhfuil ann ach an ceathrar againn sa fáinne. Tá clásal athchuir againn agus táimid ag tabhairt isteach! Ag Ionradh, beidh sé ina Fhírinne Fola i gcoinne na gConairí gleoite do Chraobhchomórtais Foireann Clibe NFW! Agus nuair a bheidh an oíche thart, beidh na teidil ar ais áit a mbaineann siad, thart ar ár gcogairí agus leis an Ríocht.

Christina Olson:
And in case you guys didn’t understand, allow me to translate for you. We’re cashing in our rematch clause for Invasion, the PPV where we claimed the NFW Women’s Tag Team Championships last year and used them to make history in this company. And those NFW Tag Team Championships are coming home to us because we are still the best damn team in New Frontier. Behold The Kingdom, bitches.

As Dark Sentencer resumes and Bloody Fairytale heads up the ramp, ringside staff starts prepping for the next match and Roger Arden enters the ring.
Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

Crowd: ONE FALL!!

"Will you tell these fools I'm not crazy! Make them listen to me before it's too late!"

The arena suddenly goes completely pitch black.

"Listen to me. PLEASE listen. If you don't, if you won't...if you fail to understand, then the same incredible terror that's menacing me will STRIKE AT YOU!"

Feedback begins to flow over the PA as the crowd grows silent and focused on the now-smoky entrance way. Corey Taylor begins to, in a choked voice, mutter out the first few words of "Solway Firth". As the song ever so slowly builds to a crescendo, the lights begin to grow more frantic.

Roger Arden: Introducing first...the manager, representing the Shieldmaidens, THIS! is Lyal "LYRIC" Allllennnnn! She represents from SILENT HILL, weighing 281 pounds, ERIK! HOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLANNNNND!

"Solway Firth" then EXPLODES over the PA, kicking up an air-raid siren like red strobe light that pulses slowly but angrily on stage. Lyal "Lyric" Allen bursts through the curtain first, rocking her latest outrageous makeup and costume, waving to the crowd and bouncing all over the stage like a superball, then heading for the center of the stage as she sees her beloved Erik Holland advancing slowly onto the stage. Erik Holland slowly turns around once on stage, taking it all in, and then locks those hateful eyes with the ring, his fists flexing, eyes full of intensity. Lyric wraps her arms around him whispering something into his ear, then points at the ring, unleashing her charge to head for the squared circle. Holland seems to be unaware of the LOUD, but arguably mixed reaction that greets him as he heads for the ring, touching fists with those fans that are loyal to him, even going head to head with some, and ignoring those that are booing.

Erik and Lyric stop as they get to ringside, Lyric grabbing him by the mask and pulling him down for a kiss and final instructions before sending him careening under the bottom rope. He lunges at the referee and/or the ring announcer, ending up sticking his head and upper body through the top and middle ropes, just staring out at the roiling, moshing swarm of fans as if he were an animal that just got let off it's leash. Lyric struts over and undoes his entrance mask, kissing him one more time before allowing him to mug for the camera, spitting threats at his opponent (or maybe the cameraman, too) and riling the crowd up even more before he goes to each turnbuckle, acknowledging them with raised arms.

Finally as the chaos comes to a close, Holland falls back against a turnbuckle pad with his ass on the mat, muttering to himself, muttering maybe to no one in particular with a thousand yard stare just locked onto the entryway. The lights return to normal as the crowd brings up one last roar, ready for the fight.

The lights go out to draw emphasis on the big screen as 'Only God Knows' begins to play over the arena. The screen cuts to the backstage area, focusing in on the door of a locker room as the intro to the music continues to blare in the distance. The door opens as the crowd jump to the feet at the sight on the screen of Dylan Moriarty emerging into the backstage halls. The cameras retreat capturing his walk as he makes his way down the corridor stretching his arms and rolling his neck, looking extremely focused. He gives the cameras a cheeky wink before making his way through the curtains and out into the arena. He stands atop the ramp surveying the mostly cheering fans, before making his way to the ring, dishing out hand slaps along the way.

Roger Arden: From London, England, weighing in at 185lbs. Pound For Pound...DYLAN...MORIARTY!!!

~DING DING DING~

The bell rings and this match kicked off with both Holland and Moriarty circling. Moriarty was hurling verbal barbs at Holland who merely grinned knowingly, nodded and slapped the taste outta Dylan's mouth to a rousing pop from the crowd! Erik quickly followed up with hard punch after hard punch and this forced Moriarty into the corner where Erik tried to continue his barrage of right hands, yet Dylan Moriarty let out a roar as he parried a shot and hurled Holland hard into the corner where he unleashed a furious flurry of forearms, chops, kicks and punches, the sequence culminating with a step up enziguri in the corner which echoed!

Nick Hanson: Big enziguri from Dylan Moriarty!

Matt Salvatore: He knows how to handle the big ones, Nick! Kinda sucks to be retired watching this kid.

Moriarty taunted the fans to a loud BOO before he delivered a knee drop to the back of Holland's head. Dylan went for another, yet Erik rolled out of the way and Moriarty ate nothing but hard canvas. Holland took the chance to drag Dylan Moriarty to his feet before he absolutely rocked him with a back elbow, causing him to swing around with the momentum. It turned out Dylan was playing possum, because when Erik spun around to deliver a hard overhand lariat, Dylan ducked under and got Erik with a sharp Manhattan drop! Quick running bulldog by Dylan and a cover!

ONE

T..

Not even a two count, Holland getting something of a laugh from the crowd as he powered out and launched Dylan in the process. Dylan immediately ran in looking to kick the larger man in the face, yet Holland took him over in a quick, uncharacteristically smooth fireman's carry on the mat and proceeded to rain down punches yet again!

Nick Hanson: And another storm of punches from the big man, Erik Holland!

Matt Salvatore: Fuck with the bear, you get the claws, Nick! ...Wow, that was corny. I gotta work on my shit.

Thinking he had dazed the cocky newcomer well and truly, Holland tried to drag Dylan to his feet yet he was met with a barrage of hard elbows to the midsection. Holland achieved a brief pop as he managed to sidestep Moriarty's rolling wheel kick and take him down with a clothesline, when suddenly..

Nick Hanson: BIG CLOTHESLINE FROM ERIK HOLL---

The arena lights go down and the screen suddenly cuts to black for an uncomfortable period of time. There's no sound, no video. Nothing but a black screen. All of a sudden, the screen shows the Emergency Alert System, in a blue box with a red border on a black background. It's three shrill alert tones fill the arena, and your speakers. Followed by one more tone, not as shrill in tone, but much longer. The tone ends, and an electronic voice fills the void left. Dylan and Erik are looking around them in confusion this entire time..

"The following message is an announcement of the impending arrival of StuFish.pif. Turn off all electronic devices. Lock all doors and windows. Cover all eyes. Take cover immediately."

Those same three shrill alert tones burst again, though they're shorter this time. The alert disappears as unexpectedly as it showed, and we're back to the match. The crowd is suddenly getting louder as they see that Dylan is trying to solve this mystery, while Holland is cautiously stalking behind him..

Matt Salvatore: "What the hell was that?"

Nick Hanson: "I guess StuFish.pif's going to be here soon..."

Dylan shook his head and shrugged, turning back around to face Holland only to get wheeled into a back breaker! And another! IRISH CURSE!

Nick Hanson: OH!! Moriarty was distracted a little longer than Holland and it cost him!!

Matt Salvatore: Big time!

Wait a minute! The crowd volume really picks up as Holland held onto the backbreaker position and hurled Moriarty up onto his shoulders! TOXIC AVENGER! Here's the cover!

ONE

TWO

THREE!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner! ERIK...HOLLAND!!!!

Nick Hanson: Well he didn’t exactly come out on top of the Silver Rush Rumble at Wrestle War but he had a good showing and he’s chalked up his second singles win in NFW!

Matt Salvatore: I like this guy, Nick. Reminds me of myself and that’s not another cheesy commentary line. He knows how to kick ass and he doesn’t waste his time with theatrics.

♫♫♫ I've got a plan. I know the game. I cross the line and things will never be the same

♫♫♫ It's gotta be right, it's gotta be clean. I gotta cover all the spaces in between

♫♫♫ Because I want to be someone (someone you want to be like)

♫♫♫ One of a kind (just do it if it feels right)

♫♫♫ Fucking contagious (living in the limelight)

♫♫♫ Out of my mind'..

As the chorus of “Straightjacket Supermodel” begins to play across the arena as the lights turn down and a light show of skulls begin to dance across the ring and into the crowd. Then a spotlight shines on the stage as “The Arcane” Lara Bratton basks in the glow for a moment. She stands in a long black robe and black crown as she leans forward on a cane. She leans back and spins the cane around as she begins to make her way down towards the ring as the spotlight follows. In her other hand, she holds a bottle of something that looks very alcoholic.

♫♫♫ Cuz I am the all original, so hated that it's criminal

♫♫♫ My fame is on the throttle, straitjacket supermodel

♫♫♫ Sideways on the level, tap dancing with the devil

♫♫♫ I'm bringing down the gospel, straitjacket supermodel

She ignores the crowd for the most part as she reaches the ring. She throws her arms out to her side very dramatically and then lowers them allowing the robe to fall from her shoulders and pool at her feet on the floor. Underneath that robe she wears a black top, with black boy shorts and big black black boots with white trim that appear to be several sizes too big and are untied. On the backside of her shorts are emblazoned with her initials LB.

She climbs each step up to the ring very slowly and enters the ring as the music slowly fades out. She walks to one side of the ring and puts the microphone to her lips, looking as if she were about to speak and then changes her mind and hits the next side and the next and the final one which faces a hard camera. She brings the bottle to her lips and takes a healthy swallow.

Lara Bratton: I always say, if I ain't fighting, I be drinking. Seems we have ourselves a buncha rookies running around here thinking they run this joint. I mean, they ain’t the owners. I mean, Mr. Bundy’s a nice guy and all as far as owners go, but I’m talking about some wrestlers thinking they own the place.

She turns around and walks to the center of the ring and plops down, sitting cross legged on the mat, placing that bottle in between her legs.

Lara Bratton: I live by a single mantra. It goes like this. “I look inside myself and see my heart is black. I see my red door I must have it painted black.” I live by those words every single day of my life. You know what they mean to me? It means that every day I tell myself, “Lara Bratton. You’re a bad mamma jamma and you ain’t taking any shit today. And you’re damn fine looking to boot.” But you see, we got some real pieces of work running around here fucking things up for the rest of us.

She shakes her head, tsking as she does.

Lara Bratton: Let’s talk about your ex Stone Mountain Champion. Even “Steven” Kroger. This dumb bitch walked right up and handed away a title. A title that a lot of people have fought and bled for. She just handed it away. Like It was luggage. Or some underage kid paid her five dollars to buy them beer. To what? Protect her darling? If you had really wanted to be champion, you could have found some way to make this work, but you gave up. You didn’t. Even. Try. I would have waited for the bell to ring and then waffled that Gomez Adams looking motherfucker right in the face with a goddamned chair. Problem solved. Retain the title, save the girl, get some in the end and life goes on. But hey, it’s all management’s fault, right? Bye.

The crowd seems eerily silent as she continues.

Lara Bratton: Then we got Mike Hunt, the King of Conversation. You know, because that’s all that ugly bitch does is talk shit. Tell me one thing… one little controversial thing you’ve ever done, you ugly map reading piece of trash? I’ll wait.

Someone yells from the audience, “He ain’t done shit!”

Lara Bratton: That’s what I was thinking too, fat boy. Hey, Mike. You wanna fight, just say when and where and I’ll be happy to straighten that crooked nose of yours with a single Punchline. Speaking of jokes, that brings us to the current Stone Mountain champion, Jasper.

The crowd ooos as Lara goes for another long swallow from her bottle.

Lara Bratton: I ain’t got beef with this Kingdom. I like a few of them girls that run around there. The one with the green hair and that other one that talks like she speaking sideways. You know, the one they named the rum after. But this Jasper wasn’t willing to fight to win a championship. She wants to claim heritage. Like she's owed something because her daddy was somebody.

Lara just shakes her head.

Lara Bratton: Well, bitch, I got heritage too. My mother was more of a fighter than your daddy ever was. Two time world champion. She won her last world championship last year at the age of fifty five. My daddy was a world champion when being a world champion actually meant something. Not these days when every federation has one, but back when a champion went from town to town, country to country defending that championship. You’re going to pull some shit where you ain’t got a drop a bead of sweat and just get handed a title that now means absolutely nothing because you did nothing to get it. They may as well eliminate that belt and keep the TV championship because that belt means something because someone beat people to win it. In one night, you took your championship from prestige to latrine. It’s a big fat pile of crap now. Hope you’re proud. You think heritage earns you shit? It don’t.

She rises to her feet and she walks towards the ropes, leaning against them.

Lara Bratton: You know what I did last year to win a belt, you Captain Caveman looking fucker? I fought in four matches in one night. One hardcore match after another. And even after breaking a rib, losing a tooth and nearly having my knee ripped out -- I climbed a goddamned ladder and pulled the championship off the hook. It took me sixteen years, but I earned my championship. But don’t you worry, Jasper. I’m not dumb. You and your little kingdom will probably try and jump me. If not today, next week or the week after. Once you realize how right I am and how stupid you were, you’ll get all defensive and want to save face. Let me save you the trouble.”

She walks over and puts her face right into the camera.

Lara Bratton: I’ll be here each and every week. Fighting. Climbing. Scratching. Cheating. Lex Luthor can line them up, I’ll knock them out and at some point, I’ll be right outside your door. Whatever I gotta do to reach the top so that I can take this fist, clench it real right and give you the Punchline to end the joke that you really are. So, you wanna find me, just look over your shoulder and I’ll be here. Bring your lackies. You can’t put me down. You can’t take me out. You simply can’t. I know I ain’t earned my shot yet. But I will.

“Straightjacket Supermodel” begins to play as Lara exits the ring and heads back up the ramp. As she does, staff is preparing for the next match.
The lights in the arena fade to black as there is a low drum and guitar beat as the lights around the entrance way start to flash in various colors as the music slowly gathers in strength until finally it hits an "explosion" of sound as two figures step out onto the entrance way to a huge mixture of cheers and boos, almost as if the fans are uncertain on how to respond to these two men.

Roger Arden: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing that drew the right to enter first. Weighing in tonight at a total combined weight of four hundred and forty seven pounds!!

As Scott Fritz's "Shellshock" continues to play, the "Blackheart" Wil Pierce steps out onto the entrance way first followed close behind by the more powerfully built "Natural" Jacob Striker who is looking rather serious as usual as Wil kneels down on one knee in front of his partner who comes up behind him and while Wil does a cocky little pose, Jake slowly draws his thumb across his own throat before tossing that hand up into a "Too Sweet" motion before the two men slowly start to make their way to the ring.

Roger Arden: They are the team of the "Blackheart" Wil Pierce and the "Real Rock'n'Rolla" Jacob Striker...

The two men then slowly make a circuit around the ringside area with Wil occasionally doing a fist bump or two while Jacob does the occasional high five while keeping his eye on the ring and then the two of them quickly enter the ring and Wil tries to hype up his partner, trying to get him to enjoy the scenery while the more "professional" Striker simply rolls his eyes and starts to remove his entrance gear.

Roger Arden: They are...THE DAAARK CIRCLE!!

The image of two plague doctors appears on the tron. They simultaneously reach up and remove the masks, revealing Katrina “Hairicin” Knox and Wendy “Zombie” Pellegrini as the two speak together.


The sound of motorcycles reverberates throughout the arena as Skillet’s ‘Feel Invincible’ plays. Zombie, Hairicin, along with their managers Lexa and Banshee, walk out to the ring, acknowledging the fans. When they get ringside, they take off their Shieldmaiden kuttes and hand them to Lexa and Banshee, Hairicin pulls on the ropes as Zombie rolls her wrists waiting for their opponents/the bell to ring.

Roger Arden: Their opponents! Weighing in at a combined weight of 320lbs! Being accompanied to the ring by Lexa and Banshee. Representing The Shieldmaidens! They are...HAIRICIN...and...ZOMBIE!! THEEEEE PUUUUUUUUURGE!!!!!

~DING DING DING~

Zombie and Wil start the match for both of their teams as they begin to circle the ring. The two lock up, but Wil is able to force Zombie into the ropes rather quickly. The ref steps in and Wil immediately gives a clean break. Zombie looks and comes charging in. As she goes for a clothesline, Wil ducks and as Zombie turns around, she runs right into a palm strike that catches her under the chin. Zombie stumbles back a few steps before Wil is able to grab her by the wrist and pull her into a short arm clothesline before hitting the ropes and delivering a senton splash. Wil then picks Zombie up, looking to deliver a pumphandle neckbreaker, but Zombie is able to get out of the move and deliver a forearm smash to the side of Wil’s jaw. The move stunned Wil for a moment and that was enough for Zombie to grab the legs and take Wil down to the mat. She then gets into the mount and that’s where she begins to rain down left and right forearms, trying to get through the blocking of Wil.

Wil though, is eventually able to roll Zombie off of him and get back up to his feet. Wil goes for a forearm of his own, but Zombie is able to avoid it, grabbing Wil from behind and taking him overhead with a German suplex. Zombie then picks Wil up and sends him into the ropes. Wil comes off the ropes and Zombie is able to connect with a discus forearm that drops Wil. She sits Wil up and hits the ropes. When she comes off the ropes, she delivers a knee to the temple before hooking the outside leg for a cover.

1…

2…

Kickout!

Zombie grabs Wil by the wrist and reaches out to tag in Katrina. Katrina comes in and she picks Wil up. Her and Zombie toss him into the ropes. Wil comes off the ropes and Zombie and Katrina take him down with a leg sweep and clothesline combination move before Katrina delivers a leg drop. Zombie gets out onto the apron as Katrina takes over for her team as she grabs the leg of Wil and delivers a dragon screw before delivering a DDT like move onto it. She then grabs the leg and hooks in a knee bar. She pulls back on the leg, hyperextending the knee as the ref asks Wil if he wants to give up, but he refuses. Wil looks towards the ropes, but he’s in the middle of the ring. Jacob is on the apron, yelling words of encouragement to his partner as he claws and scratches his way towards the ropes. Just as he’s about to grab the bottom rope though, Katrina breaks the hold before dragging him back towards the middle of the ring and looking to put him into a Boston Crab. She grabs both of his legs and sits back on the hold as Wil is once again in a precarious position.

Wil fights and struggles, trying to find a way to get free from the hold. He’s finally able to roll through the hold onto his back as he uses his leg strength to toss Katrina off of him. Katrina gets back up almost immediately and as Wil reaches out towards his corner, she gets in between him and Jacob before delivering a knee strike that catches Wil flush. She flips him onto his back and goes for a cover.

1…

2…

Kickout!

Katrina picks Wil up from the mat and picks him up onto her shoulders. She looks for a Death Valley Driver, but Wil is able to wiggle out of the move and as Katrina turns to face him, delivers a discus clothesline. Both competitors hit the mat, laying there in the middle of the ring. Jacob starts to pound on the top turnbuckle, yelling at Wil to make it to the corner. Zombie is jumping up and down on the ring apron, reaching out for Katrina to make the tag as well. Both of them begin to crawl towards their corner. Wil gets up and dives, tagging in Jacob! Jacob comes in as Katrina gets up to her feet. Jacob charges in, taking Katrina down with a clothesline before continuing his momentum to deliver a forearm to Zombie to drop her to the floor. He turns around as Katrina gets up to her feet and ducks a clothesline before grabbing Katrina and delivering an exploder suplex.

He picks Katrina up and delivers a brainbuster. He picks her up once again and then delivers T-Virus before going for a cover.

1…

2…

Kickout!

Jacob walks over to his corner and tags Wil back into the match. Wil comes in as Jacob picks Katrina up into a powerbomb position and Wil delivers a neckbreaker as Katrina crashes to the mat. Wil then uses Jacob as a step and delivers a backflip and hooks the leg for another cover.

1…

2…

Zombie comes in and breaks up the pin.

She delivers another kick to Wil for good measure before finally getting out of the ring. Wil picks Katrina up and looks for Bandit Revolver, but Katrina is able to avoid the deadly kick and deliver a stiff back elbow to Wil before grabbing him by the wrist and tagging in Zombie. Zombie comes in and just charges to the corner and takes Jacob down with a forearm before she’s fed Wil and places him over her knee and Katrina climbs to the top rope and the two of them deliver The Cleansing! Zombie hooks the leg as Katrina keeps watch.

1…

2…

3!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden:
Here are your winners! THHHE PUUUUUURGE!!!

Nick Hanson: Ladies and gentlemen, that’s how you make a tag team debut in NFW! In wrestling in general!

Matt Salvatore: Badass ladies there, Nick! I like ‘em! Can kinda understand now why Addy said she thought about applying for the Shieldmaidens!

Nick Hanson: Did she really?

Matt Salvatore: She mentioned it. You do know she rides, right?

Nick Hanson: I did not.

Matt Salvatore: The things you learn. Well that’s that match, guys. Stay tuned and we’ll be back with more ass kicking!

Scene fades in backstage at catering, where the camera zooms in on Ebony Arceri and Ian Dickenson, who have their backs to the camera as they converse amongst themselves, all the while grabbing food from the table.

They turn around, plates loaded with ham sandwiches, potato chips, and various fruits, with Ebony looking into the camera just as she’s about to take a bite of a strawberry. Before she sinks her teeth into the juicy red fruit, she stops, dropping the strawberry before smiling sheepishly.

Ebony: Don’t mind us. We’re just kicking back and enjoying the show, and decided it would be a good time to grab a snack.

Ian: But just because we’ve got the week off doesn’t mean we’re not paying attention. Believe me, now that the draft is over and we’re staying on Collision, we’ll be watching a LOT more closely.

The pair sit down at a nearby table, setting their plates down in front of them. Ebony reaches down beside her chair and pulls up a can of Bang Purple Haze, cracking the top and taking a quick sip. Ian does the same with a can of Rockstar.

Ian: My last match didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not still a little pissed off about that, but with a title unification looming on the horizon between the Television Champion Charles O’Brien and the Silver Mountain Champion, Jasmine Matthews, you better believe I’ll be watching to see who comes out on top in that match.

Ebony: AHEM!

Ian: What?

Ebony: You’re not the only one that’s going to be keeping an eye on that match....

She leans back in her chair, her eyebrow arched as she crosses her arms and glares at her boyfriend. Ian shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite out of his sandwich.

Ebony: It’s just too bad that the World Tag Team Championships are on the other brand, because I wouldn’t have turned up my nose at a Tag Team Title opportunity, either. I mean, I’ve already got one hell of a partner....

She winks at Ian, who nods his head as he washes down the bite of sandwich in his mouth with his beverage.

Ian: But there’s something to be said about holding singles gold first.

Ebony smiles.

Ebony: Only now, we’ll be going after the same straps. I still owe you for that time you put me through a steel chair....

Ian rolls his eyes.

Ian: Why do you keep bringing that up?

Ebony: Just reminding you that I won’t be letting ANYONE stand in my way, not even you. Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, eh?

Ian scoffs as he picks up his sandwich.

Ian: Yeah, yeah...

The camera pans over to Ebony, who has her sandwich in her hand as well, but before she takes a bite, she looks up into the camera.

Ebony: You mind? I’d rather you not film me while I’m stuffing my face, okay?

Ian slowly stands up, the feet of his chair scraping along the floor, producing a noise that makes Ebony cringe.

Ian: You heard the lady...

He glares into the camera, growling under his breath before the camera pans away and the scene fades out.
Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

Crowd: ONE FALL!

The opening tunes of "The Mummers Dance (Remix)" by Lorena McKennet starts to play on the speakers. A few seconds into the song Layla steps out from behind the curtain in a long dress on which hangs several jeweled tassels alongside her many necklaces. Layla smiles to the cheers and adulation of the audience as she goes to several fans on the way down to give blessings to them. When she reaches ringside, she climbs the stairs and steps under the second rope to enter the ring where she poses for the audience once more. As her song fades out she removes, the necklaces and her dress to reveal her ring gear underneath. She hands her removed items to an attendant at ringside and prepares for her match.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, weighing in at 120lbs. LAYLA...AISHE!!!!

“Operation Ground and Pound” by Dragonforce comes on throughout the arena, and the crowd goes wild as Keiji Sugiwara makes his way out onto the stage. Keiji makes his way to the ring with a rush of energy, slapping hands in the front row as he makes his way down the ramp.

Roger Arden: Her opponent, from Osaka Japan! Weighing in at 202lbs! He is The Last Emperor...KEIJI...SUGIWARA!!!!

Keiji hits the ring and takes to a turnbuckle to raise his hands up to the cheering crowd as the lights flicker. Keiji pulls off his t-shirt and throws it to a fan with a smirk and backflips off of the top turnbuckle, landing on his feet. He stands back in his corner, awaiting his opponent.

~DING DING DING~

Before the bell rings, strangely, Keiji was in the corner on his knees with his head bowed and his hands folded in prayer in front of his face. Since he is taking an inordinately long time, the referee moves in and checks on him and there is a huge burst of crowd laughter as it turned out that Keiji was, in fact, eating a strawberry frosted cupcake.

Matt Salvatore: What...in the hell...is this kid doing?

Nick Hanson: Meet Keiji Sugiwara, Matt. You never had the pleasure of facing him.

Matt Salvatore: Let’s be real, Nick. I don’t talk myself up but the boy’d probably have shit himself.

The referee angrily called for the bell and Layla, rolling her eyes, ran in to make the first move but Keiji managed to sidestep and drop her face first on the turnbuckles with a drop toe hold! The fans pop as Keiji dropkicked Layla in the back and then scooped her into a tight inside cradle!

ONE

TWO

T..

Nearly got the surprise win then and there! Keiji, grinning and taking a step back, allowed Layla to stand before the two locked up. Layla seemingly got the upper hand, initiating an arm wringer yet Keiji reversed it. Swinging around, Keiji attempted a hook kick from the arm wringer, yet Layla instinctively ducked under and caught the leg, hitting a sharp legbreaker which sent Keiji hopping on one leg before drilling him with a German suplex! Bridge for the cover!

Nick Hanson: There’s Layla Aishe with the bridge!

Matt Salvatore: Good fortune to her, Nick!

ONE

TWO

Kick out by Sugiwara, Layla dragging Keiji to his feet and launching him toward the ropes. On the rebound, Keiji ducked under Layla's jumping lariat and earned a pop as he drew Aishe into a headlock. As Keiji moved to take her down to the mat, once again the arena lights go down and the screen cuts to black for the same amount of time as last time.

Still no sound, still no video, still nothing but a black screen. Once again, the Emergency Alert System appears, in a blue box with a red border. Those three alert bursts go off again, exactly the same way as they did last time. Followed by the second attention tone, the former Emergency Broadcast System tone. The tone ends, and the same electronic voice fills the arena, same cadence and everything. It's so automated, it feels almost pre-planned.

"The following message is an announcement of the impending arrival of StuFish.pif. Turn off all electronic devices. Lock all doors and windows. Cover all eyes. Take cover immediately."

Then there's some fumbling of the mic...

Voice: "SUCK IT AJIT PAI!"

Then the end-of-message tones burst again. Once again, the alert disappears as suddenly as it appeared. Keiji and Layla are, predictably, confused. The crowd boos at the interruption of two matches due to this.

Nick Hanson: "What is Stu's problem?"

Matt Salvatore: "Clearly not the FCC... regardless, I'm sure he'll be here soon so we don't have to have keep on having our hearing damaged."

Matt pulls a set of ear plugs out, having prepared himself for another outburst.

Matt Salvatore: "Want some?"

Nick Hanson: "Ew, no. Gross. Let's just... just call the match."

The fans were drowning out the commentary team 3-1 as they were witnessing a great back and forth fast paced chain spot between Keiji and Layla, culminating in a step up enziguri from Keiji which echoed and also turned Aishe inside out! Cover!

ONE

TWO

T..

Nick Hanson: Kickout from Layla Aishe!

Matt Salvatore: Surprising after that kick to the dome! Think she saw it coming?

Almost! Keiji suddenly sat up and looked around and the crowd went crazy for him as he signalled for Loaded for Bear! He stood and dazzled the fans with his entertaining sequence before he ran the ropes and came back for the finale, but right as Keiji leapt up..

IN THE STARS! IN THE STARS FROM AISHE OUT OF NOWHERE! Keiji's head spiked into the mat! Cover by Aishe!

ONE

TWO

THREE!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner! LAYLA...AISHE!!!!

Nick Hanson: Not a bad victory for Layla Aishe!

Matt Salvatore: She picked off a former champion, Nick! Not bad at all!

Roger Arden: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is your main event and it is a ladder match for the Silver Mountain Championship!

The music slowly starts as orange, white and green lights flash. Across the screen we see scenes of Charles training and wrestling, then an Irish flag and the words The Irish Rebel Charles O’Brien flashes across the screen.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, the challenger! From Dublin, Ireland! Weighing in at 250lbs! He is the current AND last NFW Television Champion, THE REBEL...CHARLES….O’BRIEN!!!

The crowd cheers as Charles walks out onto the entrance ramp, TV title around his waist, and smiles he throws his arms wide open and then heads toward the ring greeting the fans before sliding under the bottom rope and waiting for his opponent.

The synthesized intro of "Big Bad Wolf" begins matched shortly by the drums and the lights of the arena fade to darkness. A eerie purple glow begins to appear on the stage as the guitar strums kick in the words "Even in these chains you can't stop me" repeated four times with a loud drum strike after each one. After the fourth the guitars and drums kick in full force and the words "The Fanged Rose" appears on the screen with the well known red eyes of the Matthews "Reptile" behind it.

"You see I am the wolf.
and this dirty little piggy
lives inside of me.
You see every and then
I forget which one I want
and which one I need.
I have come to realize
that both of them have become a necessity.
I now have come to realize
that I become which animal I choose to feed!"

As Maria shrieks the follow up The Fanged Rose comes through the curtain. The black coat buckled around her throat with the hood up shadowing her face. She steps to where the stage and the ramp meet she drops into a kneel with a hand on the ramp.

"Even in these chains, you won't stop me!
Even in these chains, you won't break me!
Even in these chains, you won't take me!
Even in these chains, you won't hold me PIG!"

Roger Arden: His opponent! From Chico, California, weighing in at 140lbs! She is the Queen of The Kingdom! The Silver Mountain Champion! JASMINE...THE FANGED ROSE...MATTHEWS!!!!

Each line she bobs lightly until the final word and Jasmine shoots up straight throwing the hood back from her face and letting out a bestial shriek before she sprints to the ring and sides under the ropes. She pops back up and marches to the turnbuckle where she climbs to the top, throws one leg over to balance herself and lifts a single fist into the air. Displayed around her waist is the Silver Mountain Championship belt.

After entrances, Jasmine Matthews and Charles O’Brien remove their title belts and hand them off to the referee. General Manager Luthor Callaway is there to take the retired Television Title from Charles O’Brien. He shakes the man’s hand and they post together for a commemorative picture with the belt. Callaway then does the “honors” himself of looking right at Jasmine Matthews as he hooks the Silver Mountain belt around the ring on the cable and calls for it to be elevated. On his way out of the ring, he winks at her to which Jasmine Matthews nods and talks some trash back to him before the match starts.

~DING DING DING~

Like your typical ladder match, the bell rang and both individuals scrambled out of the ring, presumably going for their own ladder. Charles O’Brien went right for one of the ones set up outside the ring while Jasmine Matthews went digging under the ring despite there being a ladder right next to her. She disappears halfway under the apron for a moment as Charles closes a ladder up and slides it in. As he does, Jasmine comes out from under the apron, poking her head up with a watchful eye on her opponent. She’s got her hands underneath the apron still. O’Brien in his relatively still rookie phase, doesn’t even seem to notice something fishy’s going on. He bends down to open the ladder up and that’s when Jasmine slides back into the ring behind him, wielding that sledgehammer handle once owned by her father. Just as Charles starts opening the ladder up, Jasmine hauls off and wails into the back of his knee with the solid piece of wood. O’Brien drops to one knee and she catches him across the back, just chopping away at him with it.

Matt Salvatore: He made a rookie mistake, turning his back on the Fanged Rose and now the Rebel’s paying for it!

Nick Hanson: Those vicious shots with that weapon! That handle she uses!

Matt Salvatore: Her old man used to brain people with that shit and now his daughter’s going completely HAM on Charles O’Brien with it!

Nick Hanson: You enjoying this, Matt?

Matt Salvatore: I pick no favorites but I love when the rule book gets tossed out the window. You know that.

After several shots from the sledgehammer handle, Jasmine drops it to the mat as Charles O’Brien rolls out of the ring, grimacing in pain from the stiff shots to all over his body. Jasmine grabs the ladder and starts setting it up. She opens it and locks it in place then stands it up and begins climbing.

Matt Salvatore: Gonna be a record short main event if O’Brien doesn’t get his ass up! C’mon, man! Those shots ain’t shit compared to what I’ve been through!

Whether O’Brien hears this or not, he just nods to himself and crawls back into the ring. He gets to his feet and hurries over, climbing up a couple of steps to the ladder before just reaching up and grabbing Jasmine by the tights. Jasmine reaches for the title still, trying to climb still. This gives a brief, albeit comical peek at partial tush before she’s yanked off of the ladder and to the mat. She lands on her feet, stumbling some and immediately fixes her shorts, looking wide eyed at O’Brien as if to say “dude, really?!” O’Brien just shrugs and motions up the ladder then to her. Gotta do what ya gotta do. Jasmine nods, starting to talk trash as she motions her hands down her body as if to tell O’Brien he wishes he could have this. O’Brien looks to the audience and makes an ‘ehhh’ face, wiggling his hand. This makes Jasmine’s jaw drop and she shoots in. O’Brien goes for a lockup but Jasmine slips in behind him with a feint and goes for her father’s sledge handle again. She turns and swings but this time, Charles catches it and shakes his head. Jasmine looks like a deer in headlights.

Matt Salvatore: Ohhhhhh you got caught, sweetheart! What now?

Nick Hanson: She better think of something!

Jasmine and Charles wrestle over the sledge handle for a moment before Charles goes to use all of his power to use his grip on it and sling Jasmine across the ring. Jasmine lets go and the handle goes flying out of the ring, into the front row, right over Nick and Matt’s heads. They have to duck to avoid being hit.

Nick Hanson: YIKES!!!

Matt Salvatore: HOLY SHIT!!

Jasmine takes this opportunity to kick O’Brien in the knee again. He buckles and she starts drilling him in the face with forearms and elbows once he’s down more to her level. She gets him backed into a corner where she starts laying into him with stiff kicks to the midsection and the chest. She steps back. Licks her hand. CHOPS O’Brien across his bare chest. The crowd reacts emphatically as Charles cringes. Jasmine lays into him with boot stomps until he’s down on one knee in the corner. Here, Jasmine goes into her controversial taunting and throws a leg over his shoulder, beginning to grind her hips and stomach in his face as she grips the rope with one hand and messes O’Brien’s hair with the other.

Matt Salvatore: You think part of him’s enjoying that, Nick?

Nick Hanson: I...can’t tell.

Matt Salvatore: Would you?

Nick Hanson: I think I mi--wait, what?!

Matt Salvatore: Haha, whoa! Hey now! Look out!

The crowd and commentary exclaim as Charles O’Brien proverbially comes back to life and grabs Jasmine around the leg on his shoulder. He powers her up into a powerbomb position and gets to his feet. Jasmine goes wide eyed, looking behind her and realizing the ladder’s in the way, shaking her head. O’Brien THROWS Jasmine off of his shoulders in a release powerbomb. She goes flying into the ladder, knocking it over onto its side and thus crash lands on top of it. The crowd “OHHHHHHHHs” as Jasmine flops onto the mat, face down. The camera swoops in and catches the look of pain on her face. She starts to pull herself up with the ropes, though, as O’Brien gets to his own feet after collapsing to his knees following the powerbomb - this due to the heavy shots she’s been laying into him. As Jasmine makes it to her feet, as does O’Brien and he steps in, catching her around the waist and throws her back into a German Suplex.

Nick Hanson: Big German from the Rebel, Charles O’Brien!!

Matteo Salvatore: Nice execution there! Guy’s been picking things up real well!

O’Brien readies himself on his feet, waiting for Jasmine to get up. When she does, he runs in for a big clothesline but Jasmine ducks, stepping back and as Charles turns and she comes in for the Ice Cold but Charles catches her foot. Jasmine goes to counter the block with an enziguri but O’Brien lets go of her foot and steps back, causing her to kick only air. When she turns back around he runs in and DRILLS her with a spear to the pop of the fans! Charles gets up, beating on his chest with one fist to amp the crowd up before he stands the ladder back up. He starts climbing again, stopping three rungs up and flexes his leg in and out. This slows him down enough that Jasmine starts getting up to her feet, holding an arm to her ribs from the spear. A mixture of pain and anger on her face. As she gets to her feet, she climbs up behind O’Brien and grabs his tights to stop him. It’s a bit of a repeat of when he grabbed her tights and the Irishman’s pale moon peaks out over the horizon.

Matt Salvatore: Now that I didn’t need to see.

Nick Hanson: If there’s any children watching, parents, we do apologize.

O’Brien yells at Jasmine to get off of him and starts kicking at her, knocking her in the head until she loses her grip and grabs her head. O’Brien makes it up the ladder a few more rungs and reaches up. His fingers brush the belt. He’s not close enough. He climbs a couple more and grabs onto the belt. Fans start to pop in excitement! He’s gonna get it! But Jasmine climbs the ladder up behind him and RAMS her forearm up between his legs, hitting a low blow. O’Brien lets go of the belt as Jasmine turns around on the ladder, getting into proper position, grabbing onto his legs.

Nick Hanson: What’s she doing?

Matt Salvatore: Taking a risk, Nick! She better be careful!

Jasmine pulls down on O’Brien to get him off the ladder but he holds onto the top with his hands, refusing to let go. She pulls and pulls but he’s not giving. Fans cheer for Charles to hold on tight but Jasmine brings her head back against the ladder and throws it forward, HEADBUTTING Charles O’Brien in the crotch! The crowd boos as O’Brien loses his grip on the ladder; their boos turning into shocked yells as Jasmine pushes forward and from essentially the top of the ladder, hits a falling powerbomb to the Rebel, sending them both crashing to the mat!!!! O’Brien lays flat out on his back. Matthews rolls to the side. Both grimacing from the impact. Jasmine’s first to start getting up to her feet, however and O’Brien rolls over onto his side, wincing with each motion as well. They both start pulling themselves up on the ropes but Jasmine makes it to her feet first and before Charles can get his second foot on the mat, the Fanged Rose runs in, charges the Rebel and---

Nick Hanson: LOOK OUT!!

~SMACK~

Matt Salvatore: ICE COLD!!!!!!!

Charles O’Brien hits the mat again and Jasmine Matthews stumbles back against the ropes. She starts to head towards the ladder but looks back at Charles, pondering something. She suddenly drops and rolls out of the ring, going to the front row of the crowd behind Matt and Nick. She scowls at the fans there.

Jasmine Matthews: Where is it? Where is it?! Which one of you fucking has it?!

She looks to over and sees a security guard holding her father’s sledge handle, walks over and snatches it from the man, shoving him meanly away with her other hand before she climbs back over the bannister. Jasmine rolls back into the ring and raises the handle up over her head, extending her other arm out to the side.

Jasmine Matthews: I AM...A FUCKING...MATTHEWS!!!!

She yells to the booing crowd before turning and flipping Charles O’Brien off as he lays on the mat. Jasmine drops her stick and starts climbing up the ladder towards the belt.

Nick Hanson: Now what was the point of that?

Matt Salvatore: Reminding everyone just who the hell she is, Nick.

Nick Hanson: Well, Charles O’Brien is still down from that Ice Cold and Jasmine Matthews is getting closer to that belt. We’re gonna have a unified champion and Matthews will retain.

Matt Salvatore: Hey, at least she fought for it this time! Ya can’t knock her!

Jasmine Matthews reaches the top of the ladder and grabs hold of the belt in one hand. She looks around at the audience, laughing wickedly before she reaches to unclasp is just as…

“Feel Invincible” by Skillet suddenly kicks on over the speakers and the crowd goes wild as Jasmine’s head snaps towards the ramp to see The Purge logo filling the video wall. From behind the curtain, Wendy “Zombie” Pelligrini and Katrina “Haircin” Knox come storming out from behind the curtain in their black jeans, riding boots, tanktops and Shieldmaidens kuttes. They get about a quarter way down the ramp before starting to sprint as Jasmine Matthews takes a quick second to ponder: go for the belt or save her ass. She opts for the ladder, visibly cursing as she drops down from the ladder after climbing down some. Jasmine snatches up her sledge handle and waits as Hairicin and Zombie hit the ring. She swings right for Haircin who ducks as Zombie spins Jasmine around and starts laying into her with forearms. Haircin, meanwhile, starts shaking Charles O’Brien, trying to get him up.

Nick Hanson: The Purge is here and they’ve come for Jasmine Matthews!!

Matt Salvatore: I doubt they agree with how she won that title off their Shieldsister, Nick!

Zombie has Jasmine slumped in a corner and yells for Hairicin to get a table set up. Hairicin leaves Charles to recover on his own and pulls a table out from under the ring, setting it up at ringside. Zombie takes her time, slowly pulling Jasmine up to her feet to guide her over to the ropes where the table is. The crowd are screaming for her to put Jasmine through it before they suddenly start to boo as Bloody Fairytale hit the ring in their street clothes and both go right after Zombie to get her off of Jasmine. Hairicin grabs a chair and slides into the ring to help Zombie. She raises the chair up but Lilith Meadows sees it coming. She swoops in for a double leg takedown and goes to lock Hairicin up into a Sharpshooter but Hairicin pulls her down to the mat and the two start scrapping on the floor. Christina Olson has Zombie spun around away from Jasmine Matthews and is just throwing elbows at her. Zombie looks dazed but as Christina Olson runs to the ropes and goes for a Springboard Heel Kick, Zombie catches her as she comes down and flings the redhead with an Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex. As Zombie sits up, she sees the chair and grabs it, turning back towards Jasmine as the Fanged Rose is getting up again. As soon as she looks up, Zombie cocks back with the steel chair...and stops….

Nick Hanson: What in the world?! Why is she hesitating?!

Matt Salvatore: No idea! Regret maybe? Second thoughts?

Nick Hanson: Matt, what are you talking about?

Matt Salvatore: These two have a history, Nick. History just doesn’t go away!

Jasmine Matthews just stares wild eyed at Zombie. Her face says it all: “c’mon, hit me you bitch!” She doesn’t see Charles O’Brien getting up behind her and honing in on her, fuming angrily. Jasmine motions to Zombie with her hands.

Jasmine Matthews: C’MON WENDY!!!! FUCKING DO IT!!!!!

This is enough of a prompt for Zombie to scowl hard and she swings with all of her might. She brings the chair in hard and SMACK!!!! It cracks CHARLES O’BRIEN over the head as Jasmine Matthews jukes out of the way. Zombie stares at Charles for a second with an unreadable expression before she turns and eats an ICE COLD from Jasmine Matthews! Zombie goes down. Lilith Meadows and Hairicin are still brawling on the outside. Jasmine surveys her surroundings before starting to scale the ladder again.

Nick Hanson: Wendy Pelligrini hesitated, it looked like and cost her!!

Matt Salvatore: Cost Charles O’Brien too! But there’s No Disqualification in a ladder match! What are ya gonna do?!

Nick Hanson: Well I know what Jasmine Matthews is gonna do!

The crowd looks on, booing as Jasmine Matthews reaches the top of the ladder, grabs the belt and unclasps it from the ring. She straddles the top of the ladder and hoists the belt over her head with a wild eyed look and a victorious scream.

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner and STILL...NFW SILVER MOUNTAIN CHAMPION...JASMINE...THE FANGED ROSE...MATTHEWS!!!!

Nick Hanson: And Jasmine Matthews is still the Silver Mountain Champion on account of what appeared to be a somewhat botched attempt by The Purge!

Matt Salvatore: What do you mean “somewhat” botched attempt? People make missteps, Nick. It happens.

Nick Hanson: Of course, Matt. Anyway, folks. We hope you enjoyed tonight’s show. That’s gonna be it for the night! We’ll see you next week in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and don’t miss the next episode of Trauma! Saturday night, live in Philadelphia! For Matt Salvatore, I’m Nick Hanson, signing off!