NFW Collision #78 - Chicago, Illinois! 06/02/2020!

The scene shifts into the parking lot where a glittered white limo pulls into a pre designated spot and comes to a stop. Gathered near the vehicle are reporters from major and minor news and social media outlets, all elbowing and jostling for better position behind the barricade separating them from the person the metal chariot harbors. After a few moments the driver gets out and opens the passenger door. Stepping out first is a large man of seven foot stature, who scans the area with a keen eye for danger before giving the all clear signal. Next out is the woman of the hour, the renowned anti pro wrestling activist Amelia Abernathy, who is being forced into professional wrestling by her cruel old daddy.

As soon as she’s fully visible the flashes from the media cameras sparkle across the vicinity like the kickoff to the Super Bowl, and a thousand different questions screech at her at a hundred miles per hour. The aristocrat adjusts her form fitting but professional navy blue pinstripe suit and ignores them as she makes her way toward the entrance to the NFW Collision Center.

Amelia Abernathy: Ugh! This is definitely Chicago. It smells just like their favorite son Obama, straight dookie!

Those in attendance watching the Frontier-Tron swarm Amelia with a tidal wave of jeers, but she no-sells them and trots along. A look of disgust mixed with nervousness swims across her ridiculously pretty but inherently bratty face as her bodyguard opens the door.

Josh Davidson: AMELIA ABERNATHY! AMELIA!

The voice greets them before the rushing body does, and Red quickly seizes the interviewer.

Amelia Abernathy: Release him, Red. It’s just that pipsqueak interviewer guy. Let me guess, Mr. Davidson, you’re here to rub my peril in my face and smart off about how I still haven’t found a wrestling trainer because of how the fake media unfairly vilified me, right?

Red releases him and Josh shakes his head no, but seems hesitant to speak with Red still lording over him.

Amelia Abernathy: No? Ok, so, I guess you’re just here to get my generic thoughts on this stupid tag match tonight then? Yes?

He shakes his head yes and tries to speak into his microphone, but Amelia snatches it away from him and turns her full attention to the camera, ready to lash out about her circumstance.

Amelia Abernathy: Here’s my thoughts on the tag match tonight. It might not even be a tag match. My teammate, Morgan Malice, is just as likely to hurt me as the two troglodytes on the other side. So here’s the plan… Morgan, I’m willing to pay you $100,000 to not hurt me in this match. I don’t care about winning or losing, because I hate this shitty sport, but I know you care about winning and losing. That’s the deal. Accept my offer and I’ll just stay outside on the corner while you manhandle those two Doofus McStupids.

A new wave of boos hit the woman, but the aristocrat brushes off the lesserlings and stays on point.

Amelia Abernathy: It shouldn’t be too hard for you, Morgan. After all, your accolades, ability, and overall womanhood surmounts their entire lists of accomplishments. I mean, seriously, the dummies over at Action Wrestling tried to feed me to Azurine Vebbins in my debut match and I beat her. I’m not a wrestler. I don’t know the difference between a wrist lock and a wristwatch, but I still beat her. How does she even look at herself in the mirror after that? It’s humiliating.

Of course Amelia leaves out how her bodyguard, Red, struck Azurine behind the ref’s back, which led to Amelia winning.

Amelia Abernathy: She deserves a proper mauling by someone like you Morgan. The bitch fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on her way down, and a few branches apparently smashed her lips and tongue to pieces because she can’t speak proper English to save her life. She tried getting in my head with that jibber-jabber hybrid English, and maybe it would have worked, but till this day I still don’t know what she was telling me. I’ll pay you $10,000 extra to beat the proper English into her. Sound good? I said it in Action Wrestling, and I’ll say it again now… there’s a reason urine is in Azurine’s name, it’s because she is piss. Beating her is a formality, a function that simply requires you to have a pulse and ability to move your appendages. Don’t let a deal like this pass you by, Morgan.

She runs a hand through her gorgeous blonde tresses and huffs with a mix of different emotions.

Amelia Abernathy: And Morgan? The deal gets better. Azurine’s partner is that six foot, 175 pound glass cannon with a shitty hairdo, Krystal Kirk.. She has a severely compromised neck injury that anybody with a lick of sense will target. I’m telling you this because you’re a professional wrestler and, let’s face it, professional wrestlers aren’t the most intelligent nor logical. So I’m just letting you know to target her neck, Morgan. I’ll even give you an incentive, let’s say hmmm… twenty grand to break her neck? Oh yes, yes indeed Krystal, I just put your neck injury out there and am willing to pay Morgan handsomely to exploit it. Know why? Because you’re too stupid to make something of yourself after fate handed you an easy out of this barbaric so called “sport”. You overcame the odds and walked again after the doctors said you wouldn’t, but instead of focusing on becoming a productive member of society you sauntered right back into the ring, which is a lot like someone seeing a pile of dog shit on the ground and choosing to step in it anyway. You need to be put out to pasture before you hurt yourself again and put your family through any more pain and hardship seeing you hurt like that.

Amelia almost seems offended by Kirk’s inspirational comeback story. Her eyes dart off for a moment then return with brows narrowed.

Amelia Abernathy: And Morgan Malice is just the right person to accomplish it, Krystal. A little research on Morgan turned up something that might scare you. She almost killed a wrestler named Shady J. In fact, it forced her to change her entire style of wrestling because she was literally too violent for the violent promotion she was in. However, it made her even more dangerous. Digging deeper, I found that Morgan is a tag team specialist, having held tag gold before. She even carried her teams, so she’s already built to take out two people at once. Good luck trying to beat Morgan, Team Kirk-Urine. Morgan, I’m dead serious about my offer. Right here it is.

Amelia rummages in her suit and pulls out a check book. She scribbles some stuff onto a check and displays the important part to the camera. $100,000.00 pay to the order of Morgan Malice (Kezza Jane Kendrick).

Amelia Abernathy: It’s yours. All you have to do is leave me alone. Don’t tag me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me. Just rip those two apart. I’ll throw in the ten grand I spoke of earlier, PLUS the extra twenty grand too. I have so much cash I can buy you a new ass, so you know I’m good for the deal on my end. What’s it going to be? I guess we will find out shortly.

She turns toward Josh Davidson but then snaps her head back toward the camera.

Amelia Abernathy: Oh…one last thing… Luthor Callaway and Steven Brody, how dare you permit Krystal Kirk to wrestle here. You should be ashamed of yourselves. This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say this sport should be outlawed because it’s full of evil, barbaric maniacs from top to bottom. You’re going to get that fragile Krystal shattered and paralyzed, but you don’t care. All you care about is selling her feel good comeback story to the masses for some ratings. Despicable! Reprehensible! I can’t even deal with this right now. Ugh!

With that, she hands the mic back to the nervous looking Josh Davidson, who quickly moves out of frame as the rich bitch and her monolith of a bodyguard enter the building.
The golden tint from the street lamps pounds against the natural blues of the Collision Center parking garage, their fluorescent glow glimmering off the metal of the cars on either side of Cass Baumer. Onslaught’s adversary sits on the hood of a 2018 Audi R8 Coupe with her blue jean-clad legs tucked close and her backdrop reflected off aviator sunglasses. With no one in the near vicinity, she’s properly social distancing.

Cass Baumer: February 25th in the Tokyo Dome. That’s the night I debuted at the Pay-Per-View called Invasion. It feels like an eternity ago, doesn’t it? Ian Dickenson paid the price for my pageantry, and at the very next Collision, all that self-made momentum I worked to generate went straight into Ebony Arceri when she beat me one-on-one. Ever since then, I’ve been desperate. I’ve tried to interfere in more Ian matches, hopelessly attempting to make that lightning strike another empty bottle but it didn’t work. The buzz disappeared and I realized...

Baumer pauses for emphasis, the camera briefly focusing on a hot pink “Queen’s Gaurd” t-shirt she wore bought at the NFW shop zone in support of Lluvia Cane and Moe Renhuan.

Cass Baumer: I needed to adapt.

She took a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling the remnant exhaust fumes.

Cass Baumer: So I did. Like I always do.

Cass leans towards the camera, words confident in delivery with her Kiwi accent throughout.

Cass Baumer: I let Onslaught fight Sammi Belmont and Katrina Cage - The Skillz Vendorz - on their own at the Pay-Per-View Ascension in April for the NFW World Tag Team Championships in what was arguably the match of the night! And last week, I watched them get eliminated first in the Tag Team Gauntlet with the chance to become the number one contenders for the NFW Tag Team Championships again on the line. I’ve watched every match of theirs in between but I’ve kept my nose to the grindstone ‘til it was time to step up.

In her triumph, one side of Baumer’s lips tugs into a snarled smirk.

Cass Baumer: Tonight’s the night I get the chance to reclaim the momentum I lost in NFW against Ebony herself! And this time, I ain’t playing games.

She laughs and plops her feet off the hood to hang off the front bumper of the muddy sportscar. Now her pristine white sneakers with small black and blue accents are much more visible, with cargo pants the same as those she wrestles in on any given night.

Cass Baumer: Ebony’s proven time in and time out that she’s a top-tier competitor who NFW shouldn’t overlook in singles competition. I would know. Especially now that Onslaught’s second NFW golden ticket got taken by The Second City Riot Squad, she’s gonna wanna redeem herself, yeah?

Cass thinks for a moment, her fist under her chin.

Cass Baumer: Truth be told, I wouldn’t have targetted Onslaught from day one if I figured they weren’t worth my time. I wanted to set the NFW fans abuzz about the matches that might happen next. Like prison rules, I sucker-punched the biggest, baddest dude in the yard to try to make my presence known! Both of them got talent but I ain’t letting them tarnish my NFW career any further with another loss! I’ll strike Ebony down with a Fact Check right in front of Ian’s eyes, and then I’ll beat Dickenson at Reckoning Day!!

She pauses. Realization stretches across her face.

Cass Baumer: I won’t cheat. No one will interfere on my behalf. I’ll do all I can to try to win this bout on my own, and show NFW what I can do.

Hopping off the car, she walks towards the camera operator and pulls it close to her face for an extreme close-up.

Cass Baumer: What I do in NFW matters to me, and it’s about time I prove it!!

With that, Cass walks towards the double doors nearby and swings them open and light pours into the darkness as she steps into the Collision Center. Now the doors slam behind her, the broadcast shifting to elsewhere in the arena.
Roger Arden: The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall and is your opening contest!

The lights in the arena suddenly start going out in sections with the sound of breakers clicking, leaving the arena, eventually, in total darkness. After a moment of silence, barring the low hum of the crowd, the opening notes of Eminem’s “Till I Collapse” come on over the speakers as pink searchlights suddenly come on, sweeping around the arena.


As the intro continues and the beat audibly swells to the main beginning, the gorilla position is flooded with light, illuminating just the silhouette of a woman standing with her hands on her hips, head cocked up and to the side. An air of confidence oozes from the figure before she’s even revealed. When she is finally revealed is when the song kicks into the first verse and the lights shift to reveal the silhouette as she turns around to reveal KRYSTALLINE KIRK! There’s a cocky yet sweet smirk on her face as the Detroit native nods in approval to the massive pop she’s receiving.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, from Lake Fenton, Michigan, Krystal Kirk!


As the first verse continues, K.K starts down the ramp with an unmatched street swag to her step. The way she moves and carries herself says it all without any words needed. She’s tough. She’s from the streets. She knows how to scrap. She gon’ whup that ass. All the same, though, she moves to one side of the ramp to greet the fans that have their hands out, giving side slaps, fist bumps, even daps to a couple who offer it up.


As K.K reaches the foot of the ramp, she turns to the ring and stops, even taking a half step back as if she’s just now noticing she has an opponent waiting for her in the ring. She stands there at ringside and with that Detroit city attitude, she throws her arms up and out. Whether it’s a greeting or a taunt, who knows? Guess it’s up to how her opponent takes it! But K.K’s there with her arms out, mouthing “whassup?!” under the music.


Finally, as the chorus to the song hits, K.K puts a little hop in her feet and hits the ring with a burst, running and sliding under the bottom rope. She immediately hops to her feet and with a cocky little dance in her step, she puts a distance between herself and her opponent.


As the chorus continues, K.K moves to one side of the ring where the fans are. She stands up with one foot on the bottom rope and leans against the top rope with her arms out to her sides, nodding to the crowd as if to say: “who ready fo’ dis?!” She hops back off the ropes and crosses the ring where she exits, momentarily, and moves to the front row. She finds a random child, anywhere from maybe 5 or 6 to as old as a teenager and pulls her flatbill off of her head. She slips it onto the fan’s head, gives them a triple side five, a hug, then pulls off the rest of her entrance gear before getting back up in the ring and waits in her corner.

As "Radio Gaga" by Queen prominently plays throughout the arena, "The Adorkable Angel" Azurine Vebbins pirouettes onto the entrance ramp. A solitary spotlight provides an ethereal glow as she begins to descend down the ramp like an automaton practicing aerobics.

Roger Arden: And her tag team partner, from Halo Acres, Phloriphornia, Azurine Vebbins!

She performs various other dance steps while making her way to the eastern ring apron. Along the way, she waves, high-fives and hugs certain chanters she comes into contact with. When a chanter puckers up for a kiss, she points to her halo (neck collar). Upon entering the eastern ring apron, she glides between the bottom and middle ropes before awaiting referee instruction and her next opponent.

“Blood” begins to play as Morgan Malice comes out from behind the curtain and stands at the top of the ramp.

Roger Arden: And their opponents, first, from Elizabeth Vale, Australia, Morgan Malice!

Morgan makes her way down the ramp and slides into the ring, climbing to the top turnbuckle and posing for the fans.

“Shatter Me” by Lindsey Sterling plays and the crowd erupts into a loud chorus of jeers as Amelia Abernathy emerges from behind the curtain flanked by her bodyguard Red.

Roger Arden: And her tag team partner, from Greenwich, Connecticut, Amelia Abernathy!

As the duo make their way to the ring, Amelia makes Red grab signs that offend her and rip them up, which angers the fans even more. When they make it to ringside, they make a long stalling transit around the ringside area before finally she enters the ring. Moving to her corner, she paces nervously.

~DING DING DING~

Amelia immediately looks at Morgan and just points right at Krystal who is starting the match off for her team before stepping out of the ring and onto the apron. Morgan kind of just rolls her eyes as she steps out from the corner and she locks eyes with Krystal before the two of them lock up. Krystal with the size advantage is able to overpower Morgan and force her into the corner. The ref calls for the break and Krystal tries to give a clean break, but Morgan drives a boot right into the midsection of Krystal doubling her over. Morgan comes out of the corner and delivers a swinging neckbreaker before picking Krystal up and sending her into the ropes. Krystal comes off the ropes and runs into a kitchen sink from Morgan before she locks in a cravate style headlock. She cranks on the hold, working on the head and neck of Krystal. Krystal fights and fights, getting up to a vertical base, but Morgan is able to deliver Off with her Head dropping Krystal right back down to the mat. Morgan then grabs Krystal and flips her onto her back before hooking her arms and putting the woman into a camel clutch. Krystal struggles and after a little bit, finds a way to get back up to her feet. Morgan tries to switch to a sleeper hold, but Krystal just drops back onto the mat, driving Morgan into it. Krystal crawls over to her corner where she tags Azurine into the match and Morgan does the same to Amelia who doesn’t look pleased at all at this.

Azurine comes into the match and Amelia takes her time. The Adorkable Angel comes in and goes right after Amelia who gets right into the ropes and yells for Azurine to back away from her. Azurine backs away and Amelia comes out of the ropes and she immediately begins just swinging her arms in a windmill, walking right towards the redhead. Azurine is able to avoid the swinging fists and she immediately hits Amelia with an open hand palm strike right under the chin that dazes the blonde. Azurine then grabs Amelia and delivers a Northern Lights Suplex and bridges up for a cover and Amelia is able to roll a shoulder up at two. Amelia looks back at her corner, wanting so badly to make the tag as she reaches out, but Azurine is able to grab her by the ankle. Amelia tries to break free and she somehow manages to connect with a very sloppy looking step up enziguri that stuns Azurine for a moment. Azurine stumbles back into her corner and Krystal tags herself back into the match. Krystal comes in and as Amelia once again goes for a tag, the larger blonde grabs her by the ankle and pulls her in and delivers a release German Suplex. Amelia scrambles out to the apron, but Krystal picks her up and drapes the woman’s arms over the top rope before delivering Chip Away as the crowd counts with each forearm to the chest. Amelia drops to the apron and onto the floor where she falls to the floor.

Krystal gets out of the ring and as she goes to grab Amelia, Red comes over and gets in between the two of them. Krystal goes to try and shove Red out of the way, but as this is happening, Amelia crawls behind Krystal and rakes her back. Krystal turns around and Amelia quickly starts to run around the ring before sliding in near Morgan and tagging her partner back into the match. Morgan gets in and Krystal tags Azurine back in. Morgan and Azurine square off and Morgan immediately stuns Azurine with a headbutt before she delivers Stay in Wonderland. Morgan hooks the leg and Azurine kicks out at two. Morgan picks her up and sends Azurine into the ropes. Azurine comes off the ropes and she runs right into Crimson Coronation and Morgan hooks the leg and gets the three count for her team.

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here are your winners, Amelia Abernathy and Morgan Malice!

Nick Hanson: Well, congratulations to Morgan Malice and Amelia Abernathy, I suppose?

Matt Salvatore: I don’t think Amelia cares for any congratulations on a win, Nick, but still! Malice was pretty impressive! Amelia? Well...she’s got brains!

Josh Davidson: Please welcome with me at this time, Jansen Myrrh.

Jansen Myrrh enters the screen as she looks ready to compete. She looks at Josh with a face of discontent as she reaches up and removes her sunglasses.

Jansen Myrrh: Whaddya wanna talk about first, Joshie?

Josh Davidson: Let’s talk about your apology to Danielle Anderson last week.

Jansen Myrrh: What about it?

Josh Davidson: It didn’t seem very sincere.

Jansen Myrrh: You doubting my sincerity, Joshie? C’mon, is this professional wrestling or is this Mr. Whathisname’s Neighborhood? We gotta sit around with our feet in the kiddie pool? No. You know why? Cause we’re supposed to be social distancing. That’s why. If Danielle Anderson, your…

She uses air quotes.

Jansen Myrrh: “Number One Contender” to the World Championship is upset at the tone of my goddamned apology, she can shove it, she can cry about it, or she can walk up to me woman to woman and say it to my face. I could give a fuck about Danielle Anderson. I’m gonna sit back at the PPV and watch her choke on that title opportunity and if by chance she wins, well, so be it. My opinion of Sativa Nevaeh honestly couldn’t get any lower, but that might just do it. Either way, I’m gunning for the winner and it won’t be long before I’ll be in that title picture.

Josh Davidson: And Damon…

Jansen Myrrh: Fuck that guy. Who the fuck does he think he is? She can’t fight her own fucking battles so she gotta send her meat for brains boyfriend out there to try and scare me? Does he think he’s a bad ass? You know what he really is, Joshie? He’s a weak, emotional, whipped, shell of a man. Watch his fucking Twitter feed? Full of horse shit and emotional sap. “I love you,” wah wah wah wah. Give me a goddamned break. Nearly as bad as being on Twitter on a fucking Wednesday. Holy shit, I’ve never seen so many pathetic excuses for wrestlers in my life. Keep that shit at home, I beg you.

Josh Davidson: Let’s talk about your match tonight with Teresa Duke. You were on the same roster over in Mile High Wrestling before it shut down.

Jansen Myrrh: I don’t respect too many people in this fucking sport. But, I got some respect for Duke. She came in and got the job done and won a title in just a couple weeks in. I give some props for that. Plus, when I had my match with Skrabz, she was one of the few to get behind me when no one else thought I stood a chance. So, I’m gonna go out here and give Teresa Duke the fight of her life and you know what? If she beats me, she beats me. She’s a better fighter than pretty much everyone on this goddamned roster. So, when I step in the ring with her in a few minutes, I’m gonna give her all I got. We’re gonna tear this fucking building down and may the best bitch win.

She places a hand on Josh’s shoulder.

Jansen Myrrh: You know who that’s gonna be, don’tcha, Joshie?

Josh Davidson: I’m going to say that would be you.


Jansen Myrrh: You’re smartening up.

She turns and walks off.

Josh Davidson: Myrrh vs. Duke coming up later tonight on Collision. Back to ringside.
Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

The lights slowly dim as Heat Seeker begins to play. As the beat begins, red and blue lights start flashing along to the beat. The song continues playing along as a large black lion appears on the screen, charging forward. As it leaps, the lights go black


Green and pink lights flood the entrance ramp, shining off of Minoru Tanahashi’s mask.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, from Tokyo, Japan, Minoru Tanahashi!


The lights flash along to the music as Minrou strolls down to the ring. As the second chorus begins he slides into the ring, going all the way to the other side, he hangs his head over the bottom rope and raises his mask. “Watch this, it’s going to be really cool.” He pushes back from the rope, rolls through, pops up to his feet, tosses his mask in the air. He spins as he lands, turning his back towards the camera as he catches his mask with the face towards the camera.

The camera is behind the curtain as 'Give It 2 U' by Robin Thicke begins to play, zoomed in on the backside of someone's tights reading 'RN' only the Front line of the 'R' hangs down much lower than most. The ass is gyrating to the beat of the music. The camera circles around the body of this individual as they make their way through the curtain, focusing on their impressive package and hip thrusting before finally it pulls back to reveal Ronnie North in all his glory.


Roger Arden: And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York, Ronnie North!

Ronnie rolls his hips to the music as he removes his ring jacket and tosses it to the 'adoring' ladies stage side.


Ronnie does a heel-toe strut to the ring that is full of swagger, stopping on occasion to point and wink at women at ringside. They can barely contain their excitement and/or arousal. Ronnie climbs into the ring and hands his sunglasses off to the referee before heading to his corner and leaning against it casually.

~DING DING DING~

The bell rings, and Minoru Tanahashi and Ronnie North step out into the center of the ring, sizing one another up. The Black Lion strikes first, sharp knife edged chops into the chest of the Prince of Pleasure, an audible pop as each hit connects. Ronnie has a slight grimace on his face, finally dancing away from the barrage of strikes and rubbing his chest as Minoru nods and smirks. The crowd starts to get behind this one as they begin to cheer. Tanahashi shoots into North, who sidesteps the takedown attempt and tries to counter with a superkick, but Minoru leans back, the sole of the Prince of Pleasure’s boot inches from the Black Lion’s face. Ronnie’s turn to grin as he resets, and the two begin to circle one another.

North steps in, throwing a clothesline, but Tanahashi ducks underneath, sprinting across the ring and rebounding off the ropes as Ronnie does the same on the other side. North goes for another clothesline, but Minoru back bends underneath the attack, turning to face Ronnie and lighting him up with an enzuigiri! Ronnie drops to a knee, shaking his head, seemingly dazed. Minoru comes forward, but the Prince of Pleasure was playing possum, catching the Japanese superstar in an arm drag and tossing him to the mat! Ronnie drops the knee, but the Black Lion rolls out of the way, kicking up at Ronnie and landing a glancing blow across North’s chin.

As the match begins to come to a close, both men are exhausted. Ugly red welts on the chests from knife edged chops and elbow strikes leave both men gasping for air, but crowd is LOVING this super stiff display of Strong Style! Ronnie lands a superkick, flooring Minoru. He pulls the Black Lion up to his feet, hooking him for the Tombstone Shoulder Breaker, but Minoru reverses into a hurricanrana! Ronnie is back on his feet quickly, but he catches a hard knee to the stomach as Tanahashi hooks him and delivers the BLACK LION BOMB! Wearily, Tanahashi hooks the back leg of North, and the referee awards the newly signed Japanese superstar the pinfall victory!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner! MINORU...TANAHASHI!!

Nick Hanson: Congratulations, Minoru Tanahashi! A great debut against an impressive opponent in Ronnie North!

Matt Salvatore: These two really left it all in the ring, Nick!

Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!


The fans boo as the Kwonspiracy logo appears on the screen.


Roger Arden: Introducing first, from Agusta, Georgia, Jansen Myrr!

Jansen Myrrh's name comes across the screen as her music continues to play. Jansen Myrrh finally steps out of the shadows as she carries her pool cue stick with her. She glances from one side of the arena to the next and then just shakes her head in disgust as behind her. She finally strides down towards the ring. She’s dressed to wrestle with the addition of a leather jacket. She steps up into the ring, sets her cue stick in the corner before she moves from one side of the ring to the next and flips off the crowd and shakes her head until she finally removes her jacket and tosses it out of the ring and walks to her corner as her theme fades.

Crown by Kelly Rowland gears up and Teresa emerges from behind the curtain after she poses in the entranceway. She makes her way down the ramps fluffing her big curly hair.

Roger Arden: And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, Teresa Duke!

She slaps hands with the fans before she finally get inside the ring. Making her to the closest corner and standing on top. Pointing to the fans with a big smile on her face. She gets down and goes to the middle of the ring fluffing her hair. Before she goes to the corner and waits for the official to start the match.

~DING DING DING~

Both women head straight to the middle of the ring ring and lock up, jockeying back and forth for position for a bit. With neither able to really move the other, they break and Myrrh delivers a sharp stinging chop to the chest of Teresa. Duke comes right back at Jansen though, delivering a stiff forearm. The ladies begin trading shots back and forth, and again neither can quite get the upper hand. Myrrh has had enough and goes a bit dirty with a thumb to the eye, followed by a European uppercut that’s followed by Jansen slamming Teresa down to the mat with her hair. Jansen delivers a few stomps to Teresa before she covers, but she only gets a 2 count. Myrrh brings Duke back to her feet and delivers a hard stinging chop to the chest, but that only seems to wake Teresa up as she fires back with several forearms, and then shoots Myrrh off into the ropes catching her with big back body drop and then hitting the sweet tooth as Jansen stumbles back to her feet. She quickly covers for the 1… 2… Myrrh kicked out at 2.5

Teresa is a little surprised as she shakes her head and brings Jansen back to her feet. After a few more forearms, Teresa shoot her off again and this time delivers a big time dropkick as Jansen comes back. Teresa follows up with a big running back senton, but Myrrh just manages to get the knees up. Myrrh gets up, shakes the cobwebs, then brings Teresa back to her feet and delivers a stiff headbutt, then follows with several closed fist punches. Some admonishment from the ref earns them a 1 finger salute and two more hard shots to Teresa that backs her into the corner. Myrrh charges to the other side and comes in with a diving back elbow that rocks Duke. Teresa stumbles out of the corner and Jansen comes flying at her with the Lariat From Hell! Jansen goes into the cover and the ref counts 1… 2… 3- no, Teresa Duke gets a foot on the rope.

Myrrh yells at the ref, then kicks the rope that Teresa’s foot was on. Jansen brings Tersa up to her feet and hits a belly to back suplex, then follows with a soccer style kick to the chest. Jansen covers, but that only nets her a 2 count. Myrrh brings Terasa back to her feet and goes to rake the eyes, but it’s blocked. Teresa fires back with some chops of her own, then hit’s a quick snap suplex. Teresa shows off her agility with a perfect float over into the pin, but it only gets a 2 count. Teresa brings back to her feet, whips her across the ring and delivers a big time pounce. With Jansen down, Teresa climbs the ropes and after sending out some love to her hometown, she flies off the top rope with a picture perfect moonsault. As Duke looks to end it with Over The Edge, Myrrh is able to get her knees up once more, and causes Teresa to crash and burn. Jansen pulls her opponent up by her hair and then hits the Myrrh-driver, spiking Teresa Duke into the mat. Jansen quickly covers

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: The winner of the match as a result of a Pin Fall… MS. MYRRHDER JANSEN MYRRH!

As her music plays, Jansen Myrrh lets the ref quickly raise her hand, then shoves him off, goes to the turnbuckle and gives the camera the double bird. Teresa gets to her feet clutching her neck as she looks to Myrrh who looks back. They give each other a simple head nod and Teresa heads out as Jansen picks up her pool cue and sinks an imaginary shot.

Nick Hanson: Jansen Myrrh with a big win over the rising star Teresa Duke, after she blocks that Over The Edge moonsault attempt.

Matt Salvatore: Great contest between them, could have really gone either way. Duke went high risk and it just didn’t pay off for her.

The scene fades in on a lone steel chair, occupied by none other than Onslaught member Ebony Arceri. Clad in her ring gear, she sits with her elbows resting on her knees, and her hair covering her face as she stares at the floor.

Ebony: I’m going to make this short and sweet, Baumer, because frankly, I’m tired.

Ebony sits up, her brown eyes glaring into the camera as she pulls her hair back from her face. Her normally pale skin is flush with anger, and her lips are pulled back as her words push through clenched teeth.

Ebony: I’m tired of you blathering on about how you’re just looking to show that you belong in the ring...

She shakes her head vigorously, the tone in her voice taking on a hint of a scoff. She stands up, placing her hands on her hips as she begins to pace in front of the chair.

Ebony: We both know that’s nothing but pure bullshit. You’ve been wrestling far longer than I have, Cass. Long before I ever set foot in a major promotion, yours was already a well-established name in the wrestling world; dare I say, if I were to look up the word “notorious” in the dictionary, your picture would be there.

She throws her arms out in frustration, letting them slap against her sides as she rolls her eyes.

Ebony: You could walk into any promotion and everyone there would know who you are, but you opted to slip in through the back door and make your move by interfering in a match that you had absolutely no business getting involved in. And yeah, it could be argued that I should have stayed out of it myself, but at least all I did was keep the so-called “champion” from taking the coward’s way out by using a steel chair.

Gone is the clenched-teeth hiss, replaced with a rage-filled growl. She stops pacing, burning a hole through the lens with her harsh glare as she jabs a crimson-painted fingernail toward the lens.

Ebony: YOU cost Ian the NFW Heavyweight Championship, Cass. YOU chose to attack him from behind, and then you tried to play the victim by dragging other people that had no business getting involved. This isn’t even my fight, Cass. If anything, it should be Ian tearing into you like a lion into a fresh carcass, but I know he’ll get his shot soon enough.

She pauses, letting her gaze fall back to the floor. Taking a deep breath, she puts her hands back on her hips and starts to laugh. After a moment, she raises her eyes toward the camera once more, with a more characteristic smirk on her face. Her eyes, however, were still full of anger.

Ebony: It’s like I just pulled up with a freshly-washed car, only for a huge blob of bird shit to land smack on the windshield. But tonight, I’m scraping the bird shit off of my car...

Her tag team partner Ian Dickenson walks into frame, bringing the first truly-genuine smile to Ebony’s face as she greets him with a quick kiss. The smile doesn’t last long, however, as she once again glares into the camera.

Ebony: After I scrape your face off the bottom of my boot.

With that, Ebony and Ian walk out of frame as the scene fades out.
Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

As the vocals of Queens Of The Stone Age burst through the crackling arena speakers, the crowd stand to their feet in anticipation! Yellow spotlights beam on the entryway, a subtle wispy smoke in the air while the camera lowers its sight to reveal Cass Baumer with a small lighter directly in the path of the hairspray valve at an upward angle. With the open flame in sight, she pushes the button at the top of the aerosol container and lights the stream on fire to activates the makeshift flamethrower with an unmistakably proud grin! The NFW crowd cheers wildly at the display, even while the controversial Kiwi waves the flames back and forth in the air above them. Once she lets go of the button, The Headliner starts to strut down the aisle in her cropped yellow leather vest with the weapons still in hand. She turns and starts to walk backward, showing off the massive white "Baumer Invasion" emblem at the back of the distressed outerwear.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, from Wellington, New Zealand, Cass Baumer!

"Smooth Sailing" continues while Baumer lets out another smirk over her shoulder. Flippantly spinning once again to face the ring with her arms extended, she stops at the steel steps to set down the hairspray before she climbs into the ring. The palpable reaction of the audience grows as she raises the lit lighter to the rafters with pride while mounted on the ropes. Cass stomps off the perch and observes the sights around her.

As the vocals kick in, the lights go out except for a soft white light on the stage. As the music picks up, Ebony bursts through the curtain, scanning the crowd before letting out a primal scream. She then heads toward the ring, high-fiving the fans as she goes.

Roger Arden: And her opponent, from Manhattan Beach, California, Ebony Arceri!

As she makes her way up the ring steps, she pauses, gripping the ringpost and leaning back, looking out toward the crowd before she walks along the ring apron. After vaulting over the top rope, she climbs the turnbuckle, saluting the crowd one more time before hopping down to wait for the match to begin.

~DING DING DING~

The bell rings, and Cass shoots out of the corner, throwing a vicious trio of elbows into Ebony’s chin, the raven haired vixens face a mixture of pain and surprise as the Headliner visibly grits her teeth as she unloads. Baumer looks for a spinning backfist, but Arceri ducks, shooting forward and hitting a chop block that drops Cass to a knee, and before the New Zealand native can rise to her feet, the Californian superstar drives a hard knee into Baumer’s chin coming off of a rope rebound. Cass hits her back, dazed, and Ebony takes advantage. She grips Cass’ wrist, turning and dropping onto her back, locking in an armbar! Baumer grits her teeth after a short cry of pain, but manages to drag herself and Ebony toward the ropes. She puts out her foot, but Ian Dickenson pulls the rope back, just out of reach. The referee turns in that direction, and Ian let’s go, turning away from the ring, as Cass rests her foot on it, breaking the hold. Ebony holds it for a 4 count before releasing, milking the submission for what it’s worth.

Ebony goes to the top rope as Cass clutches her arm, the raven haired warrior signaling that the match is in the bag. She turns, facing out to the audience, before leaping off in a picture perfect moonsault, only to come down hard on Baumer’s raised knees! Cass uses the momentum to roll Ebony into a pinning predicament, but she only gets a two count. The Kiwi superstar pulls Arceri to her feet, tossing her at the ropes before going to rebound off the opposite side, but Ian takes advantage of the referee’s positioning, and jumps up, grabbing the top rope at the last second and pulling it down, which causes Baumer to tumble over the top, bouncing off the apron and to the floor with a cry and a grunt. Ebony catches herself on the other side of the ring as the crowd boos, Dickenson shouting and waving them off as Arceri struts in the middle of the ring. She turns, hitting the ropes, and dives through, looking for a suicide dive! She collides with Baumer, but the momentum causes them both to slam into the ringside barricade, and the referee begins to count as both women lie prone. Ebony gets to her feet first, sliding in to break the count before sliding back at. She approaches Cass, but Baumer slings her into the announce table before grabbing her by the head and bouncing her off the solid surface!

Ebony hits the mat, and Cass clears off the table, causing the secondary announce team to scatter. Baumer rolls Arceri up on top of the table and, with a laser focused look at Ian Dickenson, Cass grits her teeth and delivers the FACT CHECK through the table! The referee waves his arms, finally reaching the ten count as both women struggle to get out of the broken furniture, the match ending in a double countout.

~DING DING DING~

Nick Hanson: This match is gonna end in a double countout but I don’t think Cass is done watch out!!!

Matt Salvatore: Wow!!! Watch out!! Crazy little girl she is!!!

This is being said as Cass gets back to her feet first and, seeing her chance, decides to dive in and get her some of Ian Dickenson, pouncing on him and throwing wild shots until the referee immediately goes to pull her off. Ian moves on her but before he can touch her, ringside security is on the scene, keeping the two apart as Ebony gets up and rendezvous with Ian.

Her locker room is not like most, a modest, quiet place away from the rest of the arena where she could be alone with her thoughts. Unlike the other areas, however, the only illumination of the room is provided by soft glow lamps seated on end tables that lined a brown leather couch at one end, and an arm chair at the other. There are only three lockers, made of deeply stained and polished oak wood. They reside by an open doorway that leads to what is most likely a personal restroom and shower area. The floor is carpeted in rich velvet and the walls painted an orange dusk color. A wood framed LED Television seemed to display in four quadrants, a view of the ring, one of the hallway outside her door, another looking down the main hall outside of the locker rooms themselves, and another revealed the backlot parking area filled with various vehicles belonging to staff and other wrestlers.

Seated in that arm chair, legs crossed is none other than Ursula Von Rossbach reading a hardback book titled, “Spinoza’s Overcoat - Poets” by Subhash Jaireth. Gathering a bookmark from her table, she places it in the crease of the book and folds it closed with a surprising amount of care, then sets it down on the table beside her. She regards the camera before her for a moment, resting her elbows upon the arms of the chair and steepling her fingers before her.

UVR: Last week was not what one would call a successful demonstration of one’s tactical or martial prowess. As an army is only as strong as its weakest link and thus far my only three defeats have been served to me in tag team competition and I am beginning to see a pattern.

There is a look of mild irritation upon her face.

UVR: I shall deal with that at a later time, for we are here tonight to discuss my opponent, Akane Suzuki. She is a Hawaii native of Japanese descent with a penchant for wearing down her opponents until they submit. Another dreamer from reality television that has come to our sport after all else has failed.

The scorn and distaste in the scoff that follows tells the tale of a woman who cares very little for reality television stars.

UVR: Ms. Suzuki finds herself in the hands of a woman who has been labeled as so dangerous that one of the top champions of this brand called lawyers in order to block her from competition. I wonder how that makes my opponent feel?

She clasps one hand over the other, tilting her head forward as an unnerving smile crosses her face.

UVR: Until new champions have been crowned, my options are rather limited. Neither are worthy of me spending quality time in jail or losing even one cent of my hard earned pay to their coffers. Let them keep their titles. I shall merely continue to add names to my resume and make no mistake, Akane, you shall be consumed within the annals of my legacy. When our business is concluded, there will be only one question; Who shall be next?

Ursula rises from her chair and casually strolls out of view.

Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Honolulu, Hawaii, Akane Suzuki!

“Blinding Lights” plays as Akane walks out from behind the curtain and down the ramp. She makes her way down and into the ring, posing for the crowd.

"HHHHHEEEAAARRRRR MMMMMEEEE NNNOOOOWWW!!!"

The growling roar of Robb Flynn sounds over the house P/A as "Imperium" by Machine Head explodes at the 1:27 mark with thunderous and brutal guitar riffs and heavy drum thuds assault the crowd's senses. This coincides with several columns of sparks exploding from beneath the corrugated steal as a tall and powerfully built woman with fierce, piercing eyes and a stone cold resting bitch face steps out onto the stage. Muscles rippled and flexed as she stood there for several seconds, her half shaved, shoulder length black hair cut neat and trim as it rests over half her face. Her attire is all black leather, with a vest and tights, and boots decorated in chrome rivets, fingerless gloves studded at the knuckles, with heavy knee pads and kick padded boots completing her look. Everything about her screamed cold, calculating destruction personified.

Roger Arden: And her opponent, from White Sands, New Mexico, Ursula Von Rossbach!

She heads for the ring with a confident, unwavering stride. There is no fear, no anger, no fury, only certain death in those dark brown eyes. Arriving at ringside, she leaps onto the apron and slips through the ropes.

Ursula gets right in her opponent's face, staring them down with a withering scowl that would unnerve even the bravest of souls. She practically dares them to make a move, her imposing physique only matched by the ironclad will that helped make it.

Akane Suzuki paces back and forth in her corner, nervous as she looks back into what appears to be a living statue staring back at her from the opposing corner. One can barely tell if Ursula Von Rossbach is even breathing at all, her unblinking eyes furthering the unnerving of her foe that much more. It was all too routine for the most dangerous woman alive when Akane lets out a wild cry and charges ahead in a typical fight or flight response, common sense having been overridden by fear. She rushes right into Ursula's waiting hand and is grasped by her throat. She fights and struggles, kicks hitting Ursula's core as strikes drill into her face, but the Lady Terminator is unmoved by Akane's attempted assault and her response is to merely pull her in for a Bionic Headbutt. She precedes this with her infamous Sambo Chokeslam shortly after! A pinfall almost succeeds but the pinned woman's shoulder rolls within seconds of the referee's hand hitting the mat.

Ursula doesn't even balk at the referee holding two fingers at her and in fact, offers a small, unnerving smile as she grips Akane by a handful of hair and pulls her to a stand. Her foe manages to grip the wrist and pull herself up, wrapping her arms around Ursula's muscular bicep, and firmly applying a standing cross arm-bar to hyper-extend the elbow! This proves to be a critical error as the powerful woman brings her hands together and does to Akane what she has done to many opponents who have attempted this very same maneuver.

Once, twice, three times she lifts Akane up and brutally slams her head first into the canvas until she releases the hold. Ursula takes only a moment to wring her arm out after such a powerful countermove. Akane forces herself up, gripping at her now ringing head and with the added misfortune of having her back to the Lady Terminator. Ursula moves in with frightful speed, grabbing her arms and placing her into a rear double chicken-wing hold. She hoists Akane high into the air, turns to face the center of the ring, then squats and leaps forward with a surprising amount of height. The violent impact of her foe's torso and head upon the canvas knocks her unconscious instantly. Ursula merely rolls her over with the heel of her boot, places it on her chest and folds her arms as the referee counts to three to declare her the winner of this match.

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner! URSULA...VON...ROSSBACH!

Nick Hanson: A dominant victory by Ursula Von Rossbach, indeed!

Matt Salvatore: I think this is where her path of destruction in New Frontier truly begins, Nick!

Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

The Warrior' hits the speakers as Patti Rose steps from behind the curtain to a raptuous applause.

Roger Arden: Introducing first, from Dallas, Texas, Patti Rose!

She skips down the walkway high fiving as many fans as possible before climbing through the ropes and climbing the turnbuckles to applaud the fans.

The lights dim until they’re off and the kick-start introduction of “Overtime” by Cash Cash begins to resonate from the PA system. Pink lights begin to flash to the beat of the music

“GET DOWN!”

Suddenly, a spotlight shines on the entrance. Through the curtains, Danni Anderson cartwheels and lands in a cool crouching tiger-esque pose on the entrance. The fans cheer for the Pink Sugarplum Fairy and even move to her music.

“GET UP AGAIN!"

Danni hops up, bounces from foot to foot, and claps along with the beat of the music. This builds the energy of the fans and she smiles brightly.

“Come on, come on, move!
Get down! Get up again!
Work it, do it overtime!”

She dances along the ramp, tags a few fans, spins around, and hops up and down.

Roger Arden: And her opponent, from Santa Monica, California, Danni Anderson!

“Get down! Get up again!
Come on, come on, right! to! down!”

Right on cue, Danni flips into a low dance-like pose and the fans cheer her on. She then hops onto the ring apron, turns with her back towards the ropes, places her hands along the top rope, and she backflips into the ring with style. There’s an extra burst of cheers and applause from the fans as she claps her hands for everyone in attendance and bounces with excitement.

“Get up again! Work it, do it overtime!”

She does a cute little dance in the ring, spins around, and she blows kisses for the fans. She throws peace signs with both hands before she hops back to her corner and embraces the fans’ approval. The lights come back on and the music fades.

~DING DING DING~

Patti and Danni circle the ring, slapping hands as they meet in the middle before separating again and then tying up. Danni quickly puts Patti into a waist lock. Patti is able to reverse it and put Danni into a waist lock of her own. Danni once again reverses it and this time, she puts Patti into a side headlock. Patti backs into the ropes and uses them to push Danni off of her. Danni hits the ropes and as she comes off, Patti takes Danni down with a Thesz Press and delivers a few forearms before rolling off of the number one contender to the World Championship. Patti picks Danni up and then delivers a snap suplex before floating over for a cover that only results in a one count. Patti once again picks Danni up and this time, she delivers a German Suplex and bridges up, but once again, Danni kicks out at one. Patti doesn’t relent though as she picks Danni up and sends her into the ropes again. Danni comes off the ropes and ducks under a clothesline attempt and as she hits the ropes again, leaves her feet and takes Patti down with a crossbody.

Danni picks Patti up and sends her into the corner. Danni charges in and delivers a corner dropkick that drops Patti. Danni then backs up and gets a running start as she delivers a cannon ball senton to Patti in the corner. Patti rolls out of the ring to get a breather, but as she does, Danni comes flying in with a torpedo plancha! Danni gets up and rolls Patti back into the ring. Danni gets into the ring and as Patti gets up, she delivers Stars-a-Dancing! Danni hooks the leg, but Patti kicks out at two. Danni then looks at the top rope and begins to climb. She steadies herself and launches, hitting Patti with A.D.H.D! Danni hooks the leg and gets the three count!

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner, Danni Anderson!

Matt Salvatore: Congratulations, Danni! Performances like that are likely why she got chosen as Sativa Nevaeh’s next challenger!

Nick Hanson: Really now? Nothing against Danni, but you don’t think the champ sees an easy victory in Danni Anderson?

Matt Salvatore: Of course not! What kind of champ do you take her for?

Nick Hanson: Mmh. On with the show folks!

Roger Arden: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is your main event!

The lights slowly dimmed as the opening riff to Behemoth's "Blow Your Trumpets Gabriel" began. The entire arena was shrouded in darkness as the video wall flashed with depictions of heretical symbols. Not just the typical ones like inverted crosses or pentagrams. Ancient pagan symbols hinting at black magic and dark rituals from before the time of Christ, himself. On the screen, a wave of smoke arose from the bottom as the stage alone illuminated with a single light, revealing that the stage, too, had been coated in a thick layer of mist. On the screen, the wave of digital smoke passed, revealing the words FILIUS DAMNATI in old English. The letters warped into ancient pagan symbols before shifting back into readable letters again. This time they said, DARIUS CROWLEY.

1:06 into the music, Darius Crowley literally seemed to rise out of the mist on the stage from a crouched position. His head is bowed. He brought his hands together in a prayer motion and the camera panned in on his face as he opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to the ring with the coldest, intense sense of controlled hatred that one has ever seen.

Roger Arden: "Making his way to the ring, at this time... Weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds. He is the one they call the Filius Damnati...the Son of the Damned...DARIIIUUUUUUUUUUS....CROWLEEEEEEEEEEEY!!!!!"

As he was officially announced, Darius Crowley lowered his hands to his sides and calmly started making his way to the ring. The lighting from the spotlight on the stage left him as just an ominous silhouette moving through the darkness until he stepped into the dim lighting over the ring and paused before climbing the steps and entering the ring. He brought his hands up into a prayer position again before literally dropping to the mat into a meditative stance. Darius lowered his hands down and rested them onto his knees, lifting his head and turning it towards the stage with that same, unchanged expression of hard focus.

The lights go out and bright green static comes up on the video screen.


The intro to "Voodoo" by Nyxx fills the arena as green lasers shoot up and wave around the entrance area and blue strobe lights light up the arena. Shapes start to take form in the static on the screen. The silhouette of a petite woman, a cross, a pot leaf, and a skull. They fade in and out, making you wonder if you actually saw them.


Sativa Nevaeh comes out from the back and stands at the top of the ramp looking over the crowd. Despite wearing a mask, you can tell she is smirking. The crowd rains down hate on her. Sativa starts to make her way towards the ring.

Roger Arden: His opponent, from Los Angeles, California. Representing The Kingdom. She is the NFW World Heavyweight Champion. Darth Ganja...SATIVA...NEVAEH!!!!


She makes it to ringside and slides under the bottom rope head first. She crawls over to the nearest turnbuckles and climbs them. She perches atop the ring post, resting one knee upon the top turnbuckle facing inward toward the ring. She throws her head back and takes off the mask, throwing her arms out in a 'welcome the doves' pose. The crowd continues their hatred at her and she just smiles. Sativa grabs the ropes and jumps down. She then heads to her corner and waits for the match to start.

~DING DING DING~

Sativa and Darius circle around the mat and lockup, collar and elbow. Darius immediately uses his strength advantage to press her back into the nearest corner, pressing his forearm across her face as he does so. The ref calls for the break and Darius goes for a chop but Sativa ducks out of the way and ends up behind him. As Darius turns, Sativa lays into his chest with stiff chops. She climbs up onto the middle turnbuckle and starts laying into Darius with 10 count punches. Once she finishes, she hops off, rolls back to put some distance, runs in towards Darius but the Son of the Damned steps out of the corner with a spinning back kick to the midsection. Sativa doubles over and Darius catches her right there with a DDT. Sativa sits up holding her head and Darius is there to deliver a stiff kick to the back. His shin pad connecting with her spine makes an audible pop sound as it connects. He picks her up, whipping her into the ropes and goes for a back elbow which she ducks under and springs off of the ropes for a counter attack. Darius catches her in a counter of his own, though, snapping her out of the air with a powerslam counter and a two count cover.

Darius pulls Sativa up to her feet and lays into her with a couple of stiff shot combos before hitting her so hard she spins around with her back to him. Darius comes off the ropes and back towards Sativa but she finds it within herself to dig down and suddenly break out NERF THIS out of nowhere!!! Darius hits the mat, rolling out of the ring and shakes his head to clear his senses. Sativa seizes the opportunity to come off the ropes and hit a Tope Suicida onto her opponent. Sativa wastes no time in starting to give stiff knee shots, taking it to the bigger man as smartly as she can. She runs his face into the security barricade. Their brawl on the outside continues as Sativa hits him with a couple of chops before trying to Irish whip him into the ringpost but Darius maintains a grip in her wrist and is able to pull her in for a hard European Uppercut!! Sativa stumbles back and Darius explodes upwards for a Popup Double Footstomp to the floor!!!! This gets a Holy Shit chant from the crowd as Darius pulls himself up and lifts Sativa, throwing her back into the ring to go for a cover. 2.9!!!! Sativa kicks out!!!! Darius picks her up and throws her into the corner, getting ready to go for his shoulder block attack but as he comes in, Sativa drives a knee up into his face, stunning him. She then gets up onto the second turnbuckle and dives over him, grabbing his waist where she nails him with BLITZED!!! Cover!! 2.9 for Sativa now as Darius throws the shoulder up and rolls onto his side. Getting frustrated, Sativa climbs up onto the middle turnbuckle, facing the crowd.

Sativa: I AM A LEAF ON THE WIND!!!

Crowd: WATCH HOW I SOA---

But Darius makes it to his feet, runs up onto the turnbuckle and grabs Sativa around the waist! AVALANCHE BACKDROP DRIVER!!!!!! Both Darius and Sativa practically bounce off of the mat before laying limp beside each other. The referee starts the count towards ten as both of them are laid out on the mat. They both start to stir at about 5 but Darius makes it to his feet at 8 while Sativa is up on her hands and knees. Darius backs into the corner, clearly setting up for his Bicycle Knee Strike. Once Sativa makes it up onto her feet and starts to straighten up, Darius charges in! He goes for the Knee Strike but she manages to twist out of the way! Darius turns around! GOT ‘EM--NO!!! Darius shoves Sativa off of him and into the ropes. She bounces back. POP!!!! Bicycle Knee Strike!! Sativa staggers!! Darius grabs her!! STRAIGHT INTO MORDOR!!! He hooks the leg for the cover but the referee turns and sees someone on the apron.

Nick Hanson: What the hell? What’s Katelin Arnett doing out here?

Matt Salvatore: Scouting for more clients maybe?

Nick Hanson: Maybe so, but she’s interrupting the match, Ma--Hey! Wait a minute!!

Matt Salvatore: Is that Tren?!

As Darius starts to get up from his cover on Sativa to call for the ref, Tren Descarrilado is seen running down the ramp, towards the ring! The referee is still arguing with Katelin Arnett when Tren slides in with his barbwire baseball bat and SMACKS Darius right over the back with it! Darius staggers and Tren holds the nasty business end of the bat in front of Darius’ face and delivers a devastating Reverse Russian Legsweep, driving his face into the barbwire. Meanwhile Sativa begins to stir as Tren drops down next to Darius’ face. We hear him on camera clearly enough.

Tren: We ain’t done yet, motherfucker!!!!

He slides out of the ring and ghosts through the crowd. Only then does Katelin drop down and also leave. Seeing Darius face down but moving, Sativa crawls over and locks on Nighty Night. The referee returns to the match, a little confused as to why Darius is bleeding but it’s not long before Darius goes limp from a combination of the choke and the blood loss. The referee calls for the bell, ending the match.

~DING DING DING~

Roger Arden: Here is your winner, by submission, the NFW World Heavyweight Champion, SATIVA...NEVAEH!!!!

Nick Hanson: Well, congratulations to Sativa Nevaeh, picking up a win before the pay-per-view but that interference by Tren Descarrilado was uncalled for!

Matt Salvatore: I can tell you Darius isn’t gonna take this in stride!

Nick Hanson: Well, we’ll see what happens maybe next week! That’s all the time we have for this week! So long, everyone!