Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Jan 19, 2021 16:08:46 GMT -8
Nick Hanson: Hello and welcome, ladies and gentlemen! I’m Nick Hanson, here to call the action for you on this ninetieth episode of Collision! As I’m sure you’ve seen over the past couple of weeks, the year 2021 has started off a little bumpy for management. We’ve had, literally, back to back invasions you could call them, from both rosters. Folks, our men and women of this company have effectively declared war on each other with the respective General Managers at the helm. Of course it all started with, what I’d refer to as a harmless remark made by Cass Baumer. She called Collision the A Show. I’m sure some of the competitors on Trauma feel that way about their brand, but it was Adrianna Salvatore who took things to another level. She fired the first shot, you could say….
As Nick talks, the screen changes to show a recap of Adrianna Salvatore attacking Cass Baumer backstage on January 5th while Trauma’s roster storms the arena and effectively ambushes the Collision roster.
Nick Hanson: Things boiled up and over and everything spilled out. I suffered a bit of the collateral damage, myself and my broadcast partner, Matt Salvatore. Well, as you can see…
The recap continues to the brawl in the ring on Collision #89 as Matt Salvatore interjects into the fight and starts trying to back up the overwhelmed Collision members.
Nick Hanson: You can take the dog out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the dog, it seems. We thought that was it but then just last week, it would seem what comes around goes around because our General Manager, Luthor Callaway lead the charge over to Trauma….
Another recap: a brief clip of Luthor Callaway’s speech before shots of the tactical strike made by Collision leading to an all out roster vs roster rumble at ringside. Trauma seemed to have the defensive strategy until Doomsday is seen appearing and systematically laying out Trauma members left and right. This, in turn, leads to an altercation with commentator Andrew Payne. Doomsday is briefly subdued and Payne then lays out several Collision wrestlers before Doomsday recovers and flattens him with a Spear. We see that last shot of Luthor Callaway standing with his arms out, maniacal grin aimed at Isabella Santiago as he stands flanked by Collision wrestlers with Doomsday towering behind him.
Nick Hanson: Folks, it’s been crazy. Then, just this past Saturday, General Manager of Trauma, Isabella Santiago answered the call by Steven Brody to settle things in two weeks at Invasion. It’s gonna be Civil War, folks! Collision versus Trauma. Something Commissioner Brody never intended, but alas, here we are. Isabella Santiago proposed, of all things, God help us, War Games. She has thrown down the gauntlet to our General Manager, Luthor Callaway. We already know that her War Games Captain will be Adrianna Salvatore. Salvatore, herself, has thrown down her own gauntlet. She’s challenged Cass Baumer to lead the Collision team. Prove to her that the red brand is better. Folks, we don’t know what’s gonna happen next. I can say that Steven Brody has put his foot down. He’s warned both rosters. No more unsanctioned attacks until the pay-per-view or there will be consequences but speaking of that...well...please direct your attention to the box seats above the audience, because….
The camera shifts to show the VIP boxes. Between three of them, all on one side of the crowd, the Trauma roster has arrived in full force. All in their street clothes with the majority of them wearing “Trauma” t-shirts. In the center box, Isabella Santiago sits in a blue women’s suit with her sultry little evil smirk. Joining her in the box, among other Trauma wrestlers are Anton Crowley, Cali-Kate, Nathanael Morian and Adrianna Salvatore.
Nick Hanson: ...yeah, it would seem as though we have guests. I don’t know what’s gonna happen with these guys here. Frankly, I don’t like it, especially here on my own. I’ll be honest, I’m used to having Matt Salvatore calling the action with me but, obviously, he’s uhh...a little indisposed for the time being, so without further ado, folks, I guess---
Nick Hanson is cut off as the opening chords of Godsmack’s “FML” fills the arena. The crowd all direct their attention to the stage, curious above all other things. A brief glimpse to the Trauma visitors shows even they’re a little confused. It’s not until the heavy guitar kicks in and a graphics design of sunglasses with the initials “J” and “R” burning in the lenses appears on the video tron that the crowd gives a surprised pop. A cut over to Nick Hanson shows the man’s jaw dropped as he watches the stage. From one of the tunnels, comes Jim Reynolds.
Nick Hanson: What in the world?! I don’t think I believe my eyes!!
The Collision Center is going wild as Jim Reynolds soaks in the pops. He throws the Dio horns to the audience before coming down the steps and confidently strolling down the walkway. He acknowledges the fans in the front row as he walks to ringside, taking a moment to get right up in the camera and yell:
Jim Reynolds: GUESS WHO’S FUCKING BACK, BAYBAY!!!!!
He picks up the pace of his walk, rounding the ring and coming over to the commentary table. Nick Hanson steps out slowly.
Nick Hanson: As I live and breathe! Jim Reynolds! NFW Chief Talent Officer. What are you doing out here? Are you…?
Jim greets Nick with a handshake and, to the pop of the crowd again, the former commentary team hug it out like old friends. We can just barely hear Jim on Nick’s microphone.
Jim Reynolds: What do you think I’m doing?! I’m back in the saddle, motherfucker! I got your back!
Jim slaps Nick in the shoulder and moves around to the empty seat where Matt should be sitting and puts on the other headset.
Nick Hanson: Well, this feels like old times! Good to see you, Jim!
Jim Reynolds: Good to see you too, Nicky! You’re still ugly as shit!
The ribbing makes Nick roll his eyes with a laugh as he sits down.
Nick Hanson: Well, I’m glad to be calling the action with you again, if it had to be someone else. You still got it?
Jim Reynolds: Do I still got it? Course I do! Hey, I heard we had company? Where they at? Oh, HEY!!!! MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!
Jim looks around until he finds the Trauma guests. He stands up on the table and throws them the double middle finger before motioning Roger Arden over.
Jim Reynolds: Roger! Gimme your mic!
Roger passes his microphone up to the man, curious as to what he’s doing. Jim moves his mid out of the way and lifts the mic up so the crowd can hear him.
Jim Reynolds: Hey, assholes!! Glad you could join us!! Sit back and enjoy the fucking show. Collision’s gonna show y’all how it’s done!
He drops the mic down to Roger and fixes his headset before dropping down to the floor as his music cuts and takes his seat. Nick Hanson has an oddly amused smile on his face.
Nick Hanson: Well...I know I’ve got some ribbing coming my way tonight but without further ado, folks, let’s get this show started!! NFW Collision IS NOW!!!!!
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NFW ALL ACCESS
Subscribe Now For Only $7.99/Month And Get:
- Every NFW PPV streamed LIVE!
- Encores of Collision episodes uploaded immediately after the live broadcast!
- Backstage exclusive interviews with our roster members, including episodes of Aftershock, Skinner’s Spotlight, The Game Room and more!
- Access to our NFW Video Vault!
ORDER NOW!
Sign up now, on our website, for only $7.99 USD Per Month. No contract required. Cancel and renew your subscription anytime!
“WHERE CAN I WATCH ALL ACCESS?”
Stream NFW anywhere on your smartphone, tablet, laptop, desktop computer, PS4 or XBox One!
NFW VIDEO VAULT
Subscribe to NFW All Access and gain access to our archive of classic matches dating back to the early days of FWF and EFW - the two promotions that merged together to become NFW!
Open the vault and watch classic matches of NFW legends like Scott Leroux, Judas Lasher, The Army of Darkness, the House of Payne, Solomon Rex, the Shinsen Kai and of course, the late, great “Easy V” Vlad Blackheart.
NEW SUBSCRIPTION OFFER
New subscribers will get their first month 100% absolutely FREE!
New members will also receive an NFW t-shirt of their choice. Sign up now and we’ll send you a shirt for your favorite NFW superstar! Tag team and stable shirts available as well!
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==========================================================
Upon return from commercial break, cameras are in Luthor Callaway’s office, the General Manager of Collision holding court with his special guest from Trauma, Griffin Hawkins. It seems strange to have someone from the opposing brand on Collision turf with all the back-and-forth that has been going on in the ring, out of it and over social media, but this looks quite genial. Seemingly out of place in the situation is one Damon Cross, who’s leaned on the wall near the desk, taking part in the for-now unheard conversation. Eventually, the microphones start to pick up on what is being said.
Damon Cross: ...and I swear to you as I’m standing here today, that big, hairy dude… he drank BOTH of them straight under the table! An Irishman and a German both!
Griffin finds the story that Damon is telling funny enough that he’s having a hard time coming up with a verbal response, slapping the arm of the chair and laughing while Damon himself has to pause to catch his breath. Even Luthor seems amused at the anecdote, though perhaps part of it is Damon’s enthusiasm and way of storytelling. After all, who doesn’t have a few stories about drunk friends?
Luthor Callaway: And Priest just sat there and watched?!
Damon Cross: Well, the man doesn’t drink anymore. Someone had to chaperone these three clowns! And then… THEN… Wildebeest just gets up and roars something, couldn’t tell you what, and goes face-first into the table himself! Glasses and everything went flying! Almost a whole bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue smashed on the hardwood! They had to call Eric’s ex and hoisted their giant, passed-out bodies in the back of her truck so she could haul them back to the house to sleep it off!
Looking for a moment like he might drop out of his chair from sheer mirth, Griffin finally finds his voice, waving off any further telling of the story so he can catch his breath!
Griffin Hawkins: Dude, that’s priceless! They were all so calm and cool at Ascension that time! You swear this is how it went down?!
Damon Cross: If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’!
Damon chuckles more himself, shaking his head.
Damon Cross: But if you ask Eric, he’ll tell you he lasted a little longer than he actually did! I mean, he’s the smallest of those three, Irish blood be damned!
Luthor Callaway: Hah! So would I! Road stories aside, though… we’re supposed to be talking business here.
Both Griffin and Damon are still having a little trouble regaining their composure, but they manage all right as Luthor sits back down behind his desk and goes looking for some paperwork in the drawers.
Luthor Callaway: Now, Griffin… like I was saying, I have an offer that I’m sure you’ll agree is a damn good one-
There is a knock at the door interrupting the discussion. Instantly following the knock the door opens and the NFW World Heavyweight Champion, Sativa Nevaeh. She looks from Luthor, to Griffin, to Damon, and back to Luthor.
Sativa Nevaeh: What is this then? A clandestine meeting of the He-Man Woman Haters Club?
Sativa smirks slightly.
Sativa Nevaeh: So, which one of you is Alfalfa and which one is Spanky? Cause with that hair Griff is totally Buckwheat.
At once, three sets of eyes turn in the direction of the World Heavyweight Champion. Griffin, to his credit, smirks at Sativa’s snide comment but seems otherwise only slightly miffed at the interruption. Luthor, on the other hand, fixes a cold stare on Sativa, one that displays quite clearly his irritation at his top champion barging in. As for Damon… the moment Sativa walks in, he’s no longer leaning. And his eyes? Locked on the title over her shoulder.
Luthor Callaway: You got a reason for barging in here, champ?
The way the General Manager says ‘champ’ almost makes it sound like a curse.
Luthor Callaway: If so, you got about ten seconds to make it clear.
Griffin Hawkins: Seriously, Darla. No class much?
Sativa exaggeratedly holds up a finger in warning towards Griff, one that begs no response. She then turns her attention to Luthor Callaway, completely ignoring Damon.
Sativa Nevaeh: I’d watch your tone, Lex. You really don’t want to go to Invasion without the Kingdom. Keep it up and maybe we go to Trauma. Take all the titles away from you.
She pauses for a beat.
Sativa Nevaeh: I’m Collision’s World Champion. I should have the right to speak to the General Manager whenever I damn well please. But since we got a spy in our midst, I guess I gotta wait now.
Damon Cross: Griffin is a guest here tonight, Sativa. And you’re being a rude host. Is this how a World Heavyweight Champion represents their company?
Ignored though he may have been, Damon remains calm. Except his eyes betray anything but calm; there is no mistaking the greed there when he stares at that title. There is something altogether different when he looks at Sativa. He smirks… just slightly. The look Sativa gives him in return for interrupting her is positively withering. Luthor, however, isn’t giving a damn about the back and forth between champion and number one contender. Not in the slightest.
Luthor Callaway: See yourself out, Sativa. You got business with me? It can wait till we’re done here. Same with you, Damon. Storytime is over. I don’t think anyone’s going to try and jump Griffin.
With a polite nod, both to Luthor and Griffin, Damon turns to leave. Sativa watches as Damon listens to Luthor’s command and releases a half chuckle.
Sativa Nevaeh: That’s a good boy, toddle off like your master says.
Sativa then looks at Luthor then to Griffin and then back to Luthor.
Sativa Nevaeh: You should know me well enough by now, that I don’t follow orders, and I don’t deal with rats and spies.
Sativa then lunges at Griffin and the hard rocker takes a glancing blow from the champion, but a moment later Damon launches himself into the champion and all of a sudden we have a brawl! In the melee, Griffin’s chair is knocked over but he’s out of it before that happens, getting out of the way of this impromptu fracas! Luthor is yelling furiously at both Sativa and Damon, who grapple with and throw wild shots at one another, making a damn fine mess of the General Manager’s office! At one point, Sativa knocks Damon across Luthor’s desk, but the Saint of Bones gets back up and tackles the Ganja Goddess into one of the shelves.
But Luthor has had enough. With a few buttons on his phone, he calls in security, who separates the two with the assistance of Griffin, who barely restrains himself from giving Sativa a receipt for her cheap shot earlier! Security barely manages to keep champion and challenger apart before Callaway gets between them.
Luthor Callaway: You two got this much piss in you tonight that you’re ready to ruin a big fuckin’ moment like this?! You want somethin’ to fight about?! You got it! Your little main event just got moved the hell up! Tonight, in the main event, it’s gonna be Sativa Neveah versus Damon Cross for the World Heavyweight Championship! And if I get any word of you two screwing around again tonight, there’s gonna be HELL to pay! Now get them outta my sight!
Security hauls a now twice-as-furious champion and challenger out of the office as the cameras cut away...
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The cameras take us to the employee parking lot out back of the Collision Center. Sitting in the back of a black rental Escalade with the hatch up, Morgan Payne smokes on a cigarette. The engine’s running idle with While She Sleeps blasting from the stereo. She acknowledges the camera with a direct look to the lens before looking off in the distance and drags on her menthol. The smoke seeps from her lips at first before she forces it out with a huff.
Morgan Payne: Well...what a way ta start off da fuckin’ year, yeah?
She chuckles, flicking off some ash and takes another deep drag.
Morgan Payne: Yanno….
Saying this with the cigarette still in her lips before she removes it again. The smoke of the drag escapes her mouth with a sigh.
Morgan Payne: I been seein’ alla dis shit on Twitter abaht da superior brand of New Frontier Wrestling. “Dis means war.” “Civil War.” Which brand’s got da better champions. Who defended they titles at Wrestle War versus who lost them. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Congratulations to Anton Crowley. You retained your belt dat’chu won off your wife, which she won offa you by stabbin’ you in da back. Is dat still somethin’ yinz bring up in arguments at home? Like is dat still pillow talk, n’at?
Morgan pauses at the camera, pointing a finger, palm up as if expecting an answer but of course she’s not gonna get it out in the parking lot. She doesn’t linger on it too long before waving her hand dismissively with a “pfft.” She takes a final drag and flicks her cigarette butt off screen. She pauses a moment then mutters before going to pick it up. The camera stays right where it is until Morgan comes back into frame a few seconds later.
Morgan Payne: Anyway! Dat ain’t important now. Bullshit’s still a couple weeks away. Yeah, ahnno Anaquin Adams is probably pissed off still dat I laid her aht on ‘er ass. Wrong place, wrong time. I stand by dat. All I’mma say on da matter anymore is dis. Yeah, all Collision titles changed hands. Trauma’s Undisputed Champion retained. But’chu know what da titles in Collision all got in common now?
Morgan cracks a grin and reaches back into the Escalade behind her. She lifts up the Silver Mountain Championship beside her in one hand. With the other hand, she opens her jacket to flash her Behold The Kingdom t-shirt and nods.
Morgan Payne: Yeah. Whassup? All yinz need ta know as far as what makes Collision da superior brand?
She looks down at the shirt and back up at the camera before releasing her jacket and resting the championship on her shoulder.
Morgan Payne: We in here. We got da Collision titles AND da Tag Team Titles. Kingdom runs dis brand. Kingdom runs dis company. Kingdom runs dis fuckin’ industry and it shows time and time again, because we be livin’ rent free in every motherfucker’s head. Name in ya mouths like a pair o’nuts and we ain’t even gotta try.
She reaches up and taps the button on the hatch to automatically close it, stepping out of it’s way. Morgan gives one final look to the camera and cracks a smirk. It almost seems like she’s about to say something else but she just shakes her head and walks up to the front of the Escalade to turn off the engine and pocket the keys as she walks up to the back door. She runs her card and steps through the door as we cut back to ringside.
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Match #1/Singles
Sophitia Kohler v. Abigail Lindsey (w/Sela Rica-Lark)
The stunning rookie took off running as soon as the bell was rung, catching Abigail with a jumping hip attack. Sophipita followed that up with a seated hip attack, then grabbed Abigails hair and shook her ass right in Abigail’s face before blasting her with a hip attack, to the delight of many fans. Sophitia doesn’t go for the cover, instead opting to pull Abigail to her feet and hit a quick neckbreaker. Now Sophi covers and gets a 1 count. Sophi pops up to her feet, turns away from Abigail, and starts twerking, delighting the fans once more. Sophi finisher the twerk with a little booty pop, then flips up and over for the moonsault, landing right on Abigail’s knees. Abigail pulls Sophitia up to her feet and locks on the abdominal stretch, targeting the now damaged midsection of the Tuesday Night Delight. Abigail stretches Sophi out, causing her breathing to slow a bit. Sophi isn’t done though and delivers a sharp elbow to the jaw of Abigail and uses her leg strength and flexibility to break out of the move and turn it into a hip toss. Sophitia takes a few seconds to catch her breath, then delivers a jumping hip attack to Abigail. Sophitia follows with a big running knee strike, followed up a massive axe kick that puts Abigail down. Sophi takes a few more seconds to catch her breath, then hits the ropes to set up for Ladies Night, only to have her foot yanked by Sela Rica-Lark. Sophi turns and started yelling at Sela about keeping her hands to herself. The distraction allows Abigail to recover and she hits a spinning heel kick to the back of Sophi, then follows with a massive Springboard DDT, spiking Sophitia into the mat. Abigail covers
ONE…
TWO…
THRE- KICK OUT!
Abigail pulled Sophitia up and put her right back down with a quick body slam. Abigail followed with a leg drop and a quick cover, but only gets a 1 count. Abigail pulls Sophi up again, then brings her right back down with a body slam. Abigail again brings Sophi up and hits a massive forearm shot that rocks Sophi a bit. Abigail leaps to the ropes and looks for a springboard bulldog, but Sophi blocks it and connects with a backstabber. Both women stay down for a bit to recover, then slowly get up to their feet. Abigail looks for a right hand, but Sophi blocks it and fires back with one of her own, then hits a few forearm strikes, then gets poked in the eye. Abigail follows with a spinning heel kick that sends Sophi flying towards the ropes. Abigail then reaches out to the ref and pretends she needs his help as she works to catch her breath. This distraction allows Sela to choke Sophitia on the ropes for a few seconds. She releases, Abigail is suddenly okay and pulls Sophi to her feet. Abigail hits a straight jacket neckbreaker, covers and gets a 2 count. Abigail pulls Sophi up one more time and levels her with a discus clothesline before she starts to head up to the top rope. Abigail leaps off the ropes and looks for SERENITY NOW, but Sophitia side steps it and knocks Abigail on her ass. Sophi hits the ropes and delivers a big hip attack, then Dream On, pounding Abigail’s face into the mat. Sophi covers
ONE…
TWO…
THRE- KICK OUT!
Sophi looks at the ref, sighs and shakes her head, but then pulls Abigail up, and whips her into the corner. Sophi flies in and hits a massive running dropkick that sends Abigail slumping into the corner. Sophi turns around and starts wiggling her hips a bit, dancing seductively for the cheering crowd, then backs it up right into the turnbuckle as Sela had pulled Abigail out of the way. Sophi again gets distracted by Sela and this time where she turns around, she’s caught with a guillotine choke. Sophi starts trying to fight, then turns and grabs the top rope. Abigail keeps the hold on for the full four seconds, but then releases and steps back as Sophi holds the ropes to catch her breath. Abigail runs in for a clothesline attempt, but Sophi ducks it, runs to the other side and leaps up with a mushroom stop, driving her feet down into Abigail’s chest. Sophitia heads up to the top rope, pops her butt out at the crowd before she stands. Abigail grabs the ref’s leg when she sees that, distracting him and allowing Sela to shove her off the top rope. Abigail uses the ref to stand and thanks him, then connects with a springboard bulldog to Sophitia. Abigail doesn’t cover though, instead she goes up top, waits for Sophitia to slowly get back to her feet, leaps off, hits SERENITY N--NO!!! Sophitia just barely makes it out of the way and Abigail lands awkwardly on her feet, stumbling! She spins around! SUPERKICK BY KOHLER!!!! Abigail hits the mat and Sophitia sees her own opportunity! She climbs to the top turnbuckle! She’s going for it! DIP IT L--NO!! Sela Rica-Lark climbs up on the apron and shoves her off, sending Sophitia crashing to the mat and the referee calls for the bell!
~DING DING DING~
Roger Arden: The winner of the match as a result of a disqualification….SOPHITIA KOHLER!!!!
Jim Reynolds: Oh no, I think she fell right on her perfectly shaped ass! I should go and check if she’s okay, Nicky! I’m no doctor, but I know a little bit. Probably just needs a nice massage and if I am already there
Nick Hanson: Oh God, you have not changed one bit. Sit down and analyze the match. It’s a win for Sophitia but I’m sure it’s not how she wanted it! She had a clean victory in the bag and oh what are they doing now?!
Even though the bell has rung, Sela still delivers a few more clubbing blows to the back of Sophitia's head before falling on her stomach and yelling at her. Abigail has rolled away and is starting back to her feet. Sela practically slithers over Sophitia before turning her attention to Abigail. Sela helps Abigail to her feet and talks a bit with a giggle. Abigail grins back at Sela until Faith No More’s “Epic” starts to play and Luthor Callaway comes strolling out.
Luthor Callaway: No. No no. No no no. Heeeeeeellllllll...NO!
Luthor says with a wry little grin on his face.
Luthor Callaway: No. That's not how this night is gonna start, darlin’. I know you're used to having a long leash Sela, but you aren't on Trauma anymore. In fact, the fact that you managed to get yourself fined over there with that long of a leash shows how much leeway you think you get.
Sela leans on the ropes and smirks.
Luthor Callaway: You don't get to just run around and go fuck someone out of a clean win just because it's your newest bubble butt buddy. We aren't doing that. Not without consequences.
Sela inclines her head at Luthor.
Luthor Callaway: Oh don't get me wrong, I drafted you specifically because you're so vicious. I love it about you, but not right now. So here's what's gonna happen! The next match you have?
He waves a finger in her direction.
Luthor Callaway: It’s gonna be against Miss Kohler there. One on one oh and I do mean - literally - one on one! Because Abigail? You’re gonna be banned from ringside. You so much as show your face on this stage or at ringside during that match and I’m gonna fine you both so fucking hard, you’ll need to start an Only Fans to make ends meet.
The crowd gives an “Ohhhhhhhh!!!” We even get a few close ups of some fans with that amused “oh shit” look on their faces.
Nick Hanson: Wow! Talk about hefty!
Jim Reynolds: Hey, that’s fine! I will wholeheartedly help those ladies pay the bills!
Nick Hanson: Oh Jim, for god’s sake….
Luthor Callaway: AND!
The General Manager raises an index finger. He’s not finished just yet.
Luthor Callaway: And...since you think she’s such a push over let’s...mix it up a little bit more. Let’s see if you can beat Sophitia Kohler...with one hand tied behind your back!
Nick Hanson: Whoa!
Jim Reynolds: Are you kidding me?! He can’t do that to Sela!
Nick Hanson: He’s the General Manager, Jim! He can do whatever the hell he wants!
Luthor smirks, winks down at the ring and promptly takes his leave as Sela and Abigail look at each other, not really sure what to think of what was just laid out. However, inside the ring, Sophitia’s recovered enough to sit up on her knees, holding her head and has a little smile on her face as the scene cuts away.
Winner: Sophitia Kohler
Result: Disqualification
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Camera opens on Angel in the locker room as she is finishing lacing up her boots. She looks up at the camera and smiles as if looking past the camera.
Angel: Well lookie here at what the cat dragged in tonight.” She laughs a bright and fun laugh. “I was worried as I hadn’t seen you all day.”
Isidora: “Had to do my training, didn’t need you seeing what I had planned. Besides, you were missing too.” She laughs back at her, then sits down pulling her boots on.
Angel: It sucks that our first singles match will be against each other. Since we will soon be the eminent Tag Team in the company. Can't you just see it. You, Me, wearing all that gold. It amazes me to think about it. Just have to take it step by step.
Isidora: Well give them the show that they want to see, then we can show them what we can do as a team. It’s all about the friendly competition between us, well with the war going on, who actually knows.
Angel: I know what you mean. Well here is my plan tonight. I'm gonna go out there and work my ass off to give the fans the best match on the card. I know I will have to just to keep up with you in the ring. The best part is with all the training we have done I think we know each other pretty well and that will really give the fans the advantage of watching us compete.
Isidora: I don’t expect you to back down, neither will I. The fact is we may just be debuting tonight, but we have to prove ourselves. It’ll be a good friendly competition, and the fact remains, you are still my very best friend.
Angel: I agree One hundred percent we are going to tear the roof off of this thing. The only downside is this is going to be so good the rest of the Tag team division will see what Empyreal is all about and see what Heaven Sent will be all about.
Isidora: Well we are just two divine women, who are here for the mission, and then we will take our time and eventually just take the gold. I’ll see you out there, I gotta finish getting ready.
Angel: “See you out there.”
Camera fades to black.
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We open up in the forest where we see a fire burning. Around the fire, we see two women sitting around it, a redheaded woman and a blonde. They're wearing traditional viking combat armor, furs, boots, everything. The redhead has a helmet sitting on her lap while the blonde is seen sporting a half masquerade mask on her face. The fire crackles and burns in the silence of the night as the blonde stands up and walks behind the redhead and puts a hand on her shoulder before the camera zooms in on them.
Christina Olson: Another battle is among us, but the war is just beginning.
Lilith Meadows: Trauma made the first move on us, they wanted to make a statement on our home territory. We do not take kindly to that.
Christina looks up, the fire reflecting in her eyes as stares forward.
Christina Olson: Nobody storms the castle and lives to talk about. Not when the Valkyries are still walking. We are the true warriors. We walk into battle, ready for bloodshed. We know that the inevitable is one day we will fall and join our brothers and sisters in Valhalla.
Lilith Meadows: We are prepared to die, defending our land. Nobody takes what is ours. We ain't going down without taking casualties of our own. We will come in, destroy, plunder, and take everything while you try to take what is ours.
Laying on the log next to Christina is the NFW Tag Team Championships and the two of them glance down at them before Christina finally stands up.
Christina Olson: Before the war comes to a head though, we have a fight to deal with that involves Asian Persuasion. We both know what the two of them are capable of and what they can do individually and as a team. They're dangerous and they know what it takes to be winners, but they are far from the best team in the land of NFW, they are not the best warriors, no, they have a long way to go.
Lilith Meadows: We know they are dangerous, that they will push us to the limit, but at the end of the day, they ain't us. We fight for things much bigger than ourselves. We fight for the gods, our place at the table once we finally perish. We have proven time and time again why we're the best tag team in the land. The treasure we hold once again proves that very fact.
Christina Olson: Yukiko, Maki, we only have one word for the two of you heading into our battle.
Christina and Lilith: Skol!
The two of them grab the titles and drape them over their shoulders before they lock wrists and stare at the camera as it fades out.
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Match #2/Singles
Isidora Jansen v. Angel Griffin
The two young women tap knuckles before locking up in a show of sportsmanship. Immediately Angel tries to bully Jansen back into the corner, albeit cleanly, using her height for leverage. Smaller, yet with a stronger build, Jansen gets under Angel and uses a Fireman’s carry to take her to the mat, immediately trying to clamp on the Angel Wings. Griffin slips away before Jansen can lock things down, flashing a smirk Isidora’s way and applauding the attempt. Jansen grins back and the two lock up again, though this time Angel quickly hip tosses Jansen to the mat and follows up with an armdrag when Isidora quickly rebounds. Isidora is slower to rise the second time and Angel comes in for a scissor kick but Isidora leans out of the way and grabs Griffin by the head, yanking her down to the mat and dropping a leg across her chest before attempting a lateral press. Jansen gets a quick two before Angel kicks out, whereupon she brings the fiery Griffing down with an armdrag of her own before wrapping her into an overhead keylock. Angel fights her way back up but finds herself put down hard by Isidora’s Ipponzei, followed by another quick pin attempt. It was right around this point that cameras noticed Ryleigh Ruin standing out on the stage, watching the match intently.
Jim Reynolds: Fuck’s she doing out here?
Nick Hanson: What? Maybe she’s scoping out the competition. She’s not harming anything or anyone.
Angel works to get some momentum on her side, trying to gut through Isidora’s technical attack with some high-flying, high-impact offense. Sidestepping a jumping knee from Jansen, Angel boots her in the midsection and delivers a float-over DDT. Angel gets too overzealous after a pin attempt and sails over a ducking Isidora with a crossbody. She’s up quickly, but only narrowly evades having her face shoved in by an Isidora bicycle kick. Angel reachees back for a neckbreaker to counter but Jansen spins free and cinches Griffin in for a vertical suplex! Angel blocks! European uppercut from the Fallen Angel! Isidora rebounds off the ropes with a jumping knee that connects! Another suplex attempt! Angel counters and hits the neckbreaker! Pin attempt! But it only gets two!
The high-speed exchange has the fans on the edge of their seats and Angel, feeding off that energy, is only mildly frustrated when the attack doesn’t put Isidora down. Instead, she starts stalking Isidora for From Heaven to Hell! Running the ropes, she springboards off and lands atop the shoulders of Isidora, who on instinct brings Griffin down with a powerbomb! The impact stuns both women but Jansen comes up just before Griffin does, folding her up for a two-count. Angel still has fire in her, breaking out of an attempt at a back suplex with a few stiff elbows. She hits the ropes and charges Jansen, who ducks her clothesline and hits a double-knee facebreaker after whipping Griffin around. The pin attempt only gets Jansen two, though, with Griffin firing back hard. A Righteous Vengeance looks for all the world like it takes the full wind out of Jansen, but she kicks out yet again and finally the frustration starts to show for Griffin. Still, both women are clearly enjoying the battle. Angel doubles Isidora up with a knee to the midsection, then hits the ropes for a Hell’s Fury DDT! Jansen puts on the brakes, though, hitting a surprise Tomoe Nage! Griffin lands with a thump, sitting up but taking a running knee to the side of the head before she can properly react! Jansen wastes no time heading up to the top, delivering Flight of the Phoenix but Griffin rolls out of the way and Jansen eats canvas! She’s quick to start fighting to her feet, though as Griffin makes it up a couple seconds prior and runs to the ropes. Griffin springs back, catching Jansen with Angel’s Grace for the pinfall!
Nick Hanson: And that’s a win for Angel Griffin but an outstanding showing from both!
Jim Reynolds: Can’t win ‘em all, eh Nicky? I still don’t like these motherfuckers up in the box. What the hell?
Nick Hanson: Relax, Jim. Don’t start anything. Please.
Post-match, Griffin offers a slightly-dejected Jansen a hand to her feet, which Isidora accepts. The two women shake hands then before Jansen goes to leave the ring. A particularly rambunctious round of applause draws Angel Griffin’s attention and she taps Isidora Jansen to get her attention. When Isidora turns, Angel points up into the box seats where the Trauma “guests” are applauding, nigh mockingly for their performance. The two opponents of the match now stand side by side, defiant in the face of the enemy. Back on the stage, Ryleigh Ruin continues to watch the two, rubbing her chin thoughtfully before she finally grins and nods with what looks like approval. She turns and takes her leave back through the curtain moments before Angel and Isidora exit the ring together and head up the walkway.
Winner: Angel Griffin
Result: Pinfall
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The screen is dark, we hear circus music playing all around, children laughing, people cheering. The screen opens then opens up to a long, abandoned circus tent. The top is torn and the entire thing looks like it could collapse at any given moment. Outside, we see a clown waving and gesturing for us to enter the tent. The clown though doesn't look normal, the makeup is smeared and his eyes dark. His clothes looked disheveled and old as well. We move closer to the entrance, the clown opening up the flap as we walk inside.
Inside, there's nothing, just cobwebs and dust. The music though gets louder though as we're led further into the tent. Suddenly a singular light shines in the middle of the tent. In the middle of the light, we see two figures, both dressed in a tuxedo and tophats, one male, the other female. The male figure turns around, walking cane in hand, twirling it before the woman turns around. He looks much more serious and has a focused expression on his face. The woman however is giggling and jumping up and down. She waves the camera closer to them before grabbing the front and giving the lens a kiss.
Ringmistress: Look look at our tent! Come come to the chaos! Let us show show you all the fun we can have!
Ringmaster: Matt Shields, the man, the myth, the legend himself had to resort to cheating just to beat me! Kudos to you, sir. You helped show me that in my time away from NFW, Iost focus on who I am. See, you helped show me the light once again!
He grins as Ringmistress bounces up and down in giddy excitement.
Ringmaster: But it seems a war is approaching us sooner than we'd like to think. It's time for us to fully step out of the shadows and back into the light. It's time for the circus to truly come back to town. It's time for chaos to truly rule the world once more.
Ringmistress: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages, The Ringmaster and Ringmistress proudly present to you, the new and improved Chaos Circus!
Ringmaster: Send in the clowns!
The two of them laugh before Ringmaster holds up a hand, snaps his fingers and everything goes dark.
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We cut backstage to the Kingdom’s locker room. The NFW World Heavyweight Champio Sativa Nevaeh is pacing back and forth, yelling at the top of her lungs.
Sativa Nevaeh: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
She kicks a small end table knocking it over. The sudden show of violence causes a few of the Kingdom members to jump.
Morgan Payne: Boo, chill, dis happens.
Sativa Nevaeh: And normally I wouldn’t care. He could have done this at any other fucking event. But tonight? Of all nights he chooses to do this TONIGHT?!
Sativa continues her pacing. Her face contorted in anger.
Sativa Nevaeh: I swear, after tonight we should all go over to Trauma and tell Luthor to go fuck himself. Take all the titles away from him. Teach him a lesson.
Jasmine Matthews: You know we can’t do that babe. But Morggy is right. You need to focus on tonight.
Sativa growls and punches an open locker door causing it to slam closed. A massive dent in the middle.
Sativa Nevaeh: I know. I’ve got this. This is MY title after all. Just want this night over so we can head to L.A. tomorrow.
Sativa picks up her gear back roughly. She walks into the bathroom/shower area to start getting ready for her match.
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Match #3/Singles Match
Ryan Terror v. Jerry Watts
Two big guys with not much of a weight difference between them were about to clash in this one. It was going to come down to the all out grind as the two seemed evenly matched in every way. Watts and Terror met in the center of the ring with a lock up and jarred for the advantage. Watts stepped in for a Belly to Belly Suplex but Terror managed a block and countered with an MMA slam, taking the fight to the mat. Terror went for a ground mount to start laying in with the lefts, rights and forearms but Watts was able to get his feet planted into his chest and shove him back before too much damage was done. Just as Terror started coming back in for more, Watts kicked up to his feet, causing Ryan to stop in his tracks. Jerry motioned for Watts to bring it on and the two circled up again with the crowd getting amped up for what seemed like an even contest. The two locked up again and Terror cinched in with a rear waistlock, going for another takedown slam but Jerry blocked, broke his grip and spun around, firing off the right hands to rock Terror off balance. Terror blocked the last one and swung wide, going into a rage but Watts slipped behind him and caught him in a rear waistlock of his own before snatching him up with a German Suplex. Terror managed to absorb most of the impact and rolled through the landing and as Watts sat up, he charged in with a sliding lariat right to the back of his opponent, scoring him a two count on Jerry Watts.
Ryan Terror took control of the match at this point, working Jerry Watts over with stiff strikes and violent takedowns but also not shying away from the more frowned upon tactics, testing the counts on the ropes from the ref. Anytime Jerry’s manager attempted to point out an underhanded tactic done by Terror, he used the inadvertent distraction of the referee telling her to get down from the apron to just dig into his opponent more; choking him on the ropes or going for the eyes. It wasn’t until he looked to be going for a kick below the belt that Watts caught him by the foot, shaking his head and flipped the script, yanking him into a brutal clothesline. Terror popped up and Watts drove him down again with another clothesline. Terror popped up again and Watts caught him again! This time with THE ICONIC DROP!! He went for the cover but the referee was chiding Tiffany Lynn Page still. When she saw Jerry going for the cover, she started yelling for the ref to go make the pin, finally backing off. The ref took a moment to warn her once more before going to make the count but this had given Ryan Terror enough time to gather himself for a kick out. A little miffed at the referee, Jerry Watts got up in the official’s face. Tiffany climbed onto the apron again to back her client up and the referee turned to her again, this time motioning to the back. Wait, he was throwing her from ringside?! What?! Tiffany tried to plead her case while Jerry was now trying to back her up and keep her there. The ref didn’t see Ryan Terror getting back up to deliver a blatant low blow to Jerry Watts before pulling him around to deliver BLOOD REIGN II. The referee heard the impact and spun around, only seeing Terror go for the cover and went to make the count. 1...2...3 for Ryan Terror to score the win over Jerry Watts!
Nick Hanson: Now that was dirty if I ever saw it!
Jim Reynolds: Hey, Page was trying to distract the ref to let Jerry Watts get the upper hand! She may be fine as shit but she ain’t too brainy!
Nick Hanson: That is not what she was trying to do, Jim! She was calling out Ryan Terror on all the crap he was up to!
Jim Reynolds: Managers aren’t supposed to get involved in matches, Nicky. Otherwise, that shit happens right there. Page has nobody to blame for her client’s loss but herself!
Winner: Ryan Terror
Result: Pinfall
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Cut to the back where Josh Davidson is standing beside Matt Shields. Shields has a wide smile on his face while Josh looks very wary.
Matt Shields: Hey, don’t pay attention to Josh. Look at me, show the audience all of me, the style, the flash, the way a champion should look, unfortunately, none of the titles in NFW deserve to even be considered. They’re lifeless, they’re soulless, they are worthless.
The cameraman does a quick pan to show Shields, but he grabs the camera and shakes it around, He then pushes the camera back, slowly showing off his hair, down to the well-maintained beard, He pulled in tight on the dark red letters that said Velvet Hammer on his t-shirt, then quickly pointed the camera to his crotch, thrusting forward to show off his black jeans and “Biggest Dick In Texas” belt buckle. That was when the cameraman pulled back and Shields started laughing.
Josh Davidson: Well everyone, that’s our geist right now, Matt Shields. A very… controversial man who has already riled some people
Matt Shields: Okay first things first cockboy, I do not need you to introduce me. If people don’t know who I am, they’re stupid. A thirty-two-second google search will tell you all you need to know about Matt Shields. World traveling super wrestler, champion multiple times over. World, Tag, Television, Intercontinental, cruiserweight, Texas, of course, Monarch Of The Mat, Breaker of Bones, the master of the neckbreaker, the walking horror movie, king of the mother fucking heavyweights, aka, the baddest bastard who has almost certainly fucked your mother. So with that out of the way, you stand there and be the best damn human mic stand you can be. If you screw up, I’m gonna shove my kendo stick so far inside you that I’ll be able to open your mouth, attach a mic clip to the end and all my problems will be solved.
Josh takes a breath, stands straight, and holds the mic perfectly still and level for Shields.
Matt Shields: First question Josh was going to ask, and I know this because all male wrestling interviewers are predictable little assholes. The chicks, typically ball busters or dumb bimbos. Occasionally you get the sweet ones. Every once in a while, the true pro. But with you dickless wonders, it’s always the same. Why did you come to NFW if you don’t care about the titles?
Shields looks at Josh and mocks him a bit, pretending to ask a very stupid question as he acts like a skeevy squirrely guy. He then shakes his head, stops, and starts laughing again.
Matt Shields: Yea, I can tell by that defeated look that I’m right. Let me ask you, are you deaf, or are you stupid? Because if you’re deaf, either you read my lips or someone repeated it back in your little hand language. So have them repeat this back to you very clearly. My mission in N F W, is to cause chaos, carnage, and mayhem. NFW is going to be my own little playground, and it’s been a lot of extra fun with Trauma starting a little war!
He shudders and smiles before smacking his kendo stick down into his hand.
Matt Shields: But if you don’t care about NFW, why would you care about a brand war? Am I right Josh? Go ahead, tell me I’m right Josh. I need to hear those words. I’m so freaking close to satisfuckingfaction. Give it to me buddy, give it to me.
Shields is standing there doing the gimme gimme gimme hands, practically jumping up and down, a drop of sweat even falls from his forehead. Josh nods, turns the mic towards himself, opens his mouth, and gets viciously shoved into a stack of nearby boxes as Shields snatches the mic.
Matt Shields: MIC STANDS DON’T FUCKING TALK JOSH! You are lucky I’m letting you off for this. First offense, not worth the fine I would get. To the question at hand though. I don’t hate NFW. This company has employed a woman that I was until recently romantically involved with, for quite some time, and they are paying me quite well. I am here to help NFW. Matt Shields signing on to NFW gets more eyes on NFW. You know why despite the potential fines for my offensive language and imagery, possible bodily harm inflicted upon insolent staff, and just sheer bullshit I demand in a contract, I still keep getting contracts? Because I move the needle. Because I bump up the ratings. Because I bring in all the key demos. Whether they love me or they hate me, they watch for the same damn reason. What the fuck will I do or say next. Nobody expected me to jump out of the battle royal. Hey, guess that means I had one elimination as well. I could have gone out there, won the whole thing, and then told Callaway to shove the number one contendership up his ass because I have no interest in a soulless worthless bunch of metal on a scrap of leather. I could have eliminated some fan favorites first. I could have handpicked the number one contender by tossing everyone except who I wanted to win. So why didn’t I? Because I don’t get paid by the hour or even the minute. I have a flat rate and with the reward being bullshit, I didn’t feel like wasting my precious time. The trash talking and beatdowns? That was just me having fun. Next time out though, I want a real challenge, and a real bit of fun. Give me one of them big motherfuckers to fight.
Shields chuckles, throws the mic toward Josh, and then heads off, dragging his kendo stick along the way before snatching a black leather coat and a few red balloons seemingly out of thin air as he starts walking through the Collision Center halls.
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As the live feed cuts to the parking lot, Trauma Superstar Glitch, is seen confidently walking through the arena parking lot. She nears the building, when a voice sounds off behind her.
Voice: Yo, Campbell's Chicken Noodle. Kind of far from home, ain't we? This is Collision.
Glitch stops in her tracks, and shifts her attention to the direction of the voice. Dona Rotten is seen, leaning against a motorcycle. Dona pushes away, and approaches the mystery woman.
Glitch: Easy, I'm just here to...talk, to Luther.
Dona smirks, shaking her head at this. There was no way, that was why she was there, not after the past few weeks.
Dona: Listen, bolt breath, I wasn't born yesterday. So, you can leave, or I can make you leave.
Glitch sighs, this wasn't a fight she wanted, for several reasons. At the same time, she was itching for some payback.
Glitch: Oh yeah, biker bitch from Mars? You're going to stop me? You, and what army exactly?
Dona: Funny you should ask…
In an attempt to catch Glitch by surprise, Dona sprays a fine green mist into the woman's face. However, this didn't seem to have much of an effect.
Dona: Shit, right. It's the helmet, huh?
Glitch: Yup, it's the helmet.
Dona: So, uh, mulligan?
The Toxic Knockout laughs, as Glitch just throws her hands up into the air, as if to say why not.
Glitch: Fine, have it your way.
Dona bolts forward, looking to get in some quick offense, but Glitch was ready this time. Instincts kick in, and Glitch's arm raises up, and blasts a bright flash. Dona, in her temporarily blinded state, stumbles. Glitch seizes the opportunity, and locks her hands behind Dona's neck. With the Muay Thai clutch locked, Glitch presses forward, throwing stiff knees into Dona's ribs, all the while moving her towards the bike. As they near the bike, Dona manages to break free, and quickly grab a collapsible baton from the saddle bag.
Dona: Oh, you dirty bitch. I like it...game on.
Her ribs stinging from Glitches onslaught, doesn't stop Dona from extending the baton, Glitch gives pause, and takes a few steps back, knowing better than to rush in at this point. Rotten nods, and powers forward, she feints to the right, and as Glitch takes the bait, gives a quick swing of the baton, striking the other woman bust behind the knee, forcing her to a kneel in the process. Dona positions herself behind Glitch, bursts forward, and throws her body forward, aiming her knee at the back of the woman's head. Glitch falls forward, her head smacking the ground, with a loud thud. Not wanting to let up, Dona grabs Glitch by the headpiece, and goes to drag her back to a stand. But, once Glitch is back to a kneel, she throws her left arm forward, landing an uppercut right to Dona's rib cage. Rotten clutches her side, and stumbles away.
Glitch: You know, I've always respected you. Hell of a fighter, but, you just don't know when to stop.
Glitch gets back to a stand, her attention turning to the baton, that is now lying at her feet. The armor clad woman picks up the weapon, and gives a few practice swings. Dona, seeing she'd lost her weapon, hisses, and gazes at Glitch.
Dona: Now you're just asking for it!
Glitch shakes her head "You don't have to do this, stop, now!" Dona hears these words, but pays them no mind. She was seeing red, and throws herself full force towards her opponent. Glitch was stuck between a rock and a hard place, so decides to use her advantage. Swinging the baton hard, and keeping her focus on Dona's ribs, Glitch lands yet another brutal shot.
Dona: Ngh.
Rotten lands on all fours, but she's too proud to just stay down. Glitch shakes her head, and shoots a knee into the rising Dona's side, putting her on the ground.
Glitch: Stay...DOWN!
Before Dona can answer her, a combination of EMTs and Security come rushing from the building. Glitch curses under her breath, drops the weapon, and flees before security has the chance to haul her in. The feed cuts away, as medical personnel checks on Rotten, who is gingerly clutching at her side.
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Match #4/Tag Team Match
Asian Persuasion v. Last Of The Valkyries
Lilith and Yukio started things off their teams as the bell sounded. The two started with lockup and Lilith was forced into the corner. As the ref called for the break, Yukio just slapped Lilith across the face. The Faerie took the slap, and the focused expression on her face never changed. She just slowly walked out of the corner as on the apron, Christina yelled obscenities at the Japanese woman. The two of them once again locked up and this time, Lilith transitioned into a waist lock before picking Yukiko up and slamming her face first into the mat. Lilith then grabs the leg of her opponent and delivers an elbow across the knee. She does it again and third time before she tags Christina in. The two of them each grab a leg of Yukiko before they just yank and wishbone her. Christina picks Yukiko up and sends her into the corner. Christina charges in and delivers a corner splash before she snapmares Yukiko out and climbs to the second rope and delivers a dropkick to the back of the head. She then picks Yukiko up and goes to send her into the ropes, but Yukiko reverses and when Christina hits the ropes, Maki delivers a knee to the small of the back. That gets Christina's attention as she turns and swings at Makino avoids the wild right hand. Thanks to this distraction, Yukiko is able to deliver a dropkick to the back of Christina that sends her out to the floor.
Angel immediately distracts the referee as Maki takes Christina and drives her back first into the ring apron before bouncing her head off the ring post. Maki then picks Christina up and delivers Death Valley Driver to Christina onto the floor before rolling her back into the ring where Yukiko goes for a cover, but Christina manages to get a shoulder up at two. Yukiko drags Christina over to her corner and tags Maki in. The two of them pick Christina up and throw her into the corner where they begin to stomp away at her Yukiko eventually gets out of the ring as Maki grabs the attention of the referee once again. As they're distracted, Yukiko begins to choke Christina in the corner. This now begins to get the ire of Lilith who tries to come into the match, but is stopped by the referee allowing Maki and Yukiko to deliver a Total Elimination leg sweep and roundhouse combo. Lilith gets out of the ring as Maki goes for the cover, but Lilith is in to break up the pin at two. She picks Maki up and uncharacteristically, she grabs the pouch hanging on her gear and blows the Faerie Dust right into the eyes of Maki and right in front of the referee who calls for the bell. Yukiko tries to come in and help Maki, but for her troubles, Christina delivers a straight kick right between the legs. She then picks Maki up and her and Lilith deliver a magic killer onto her before rolling out of the ring and smirking as they grab the tag titles and walk up the ramp.
Winners: Asian Persuasion
Result: Disqualification
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Jeszika Gautier: Is Ash always late for jobs now?
Bethany shrugs.
Bethany Kenyon: When was the last time we actually worked a real job?
Jeszika crosses her arms.
Jeszika Gautier: I don’t know, y’all didn’t call me when you were doing that bit into hell…
Nikki nods slowly.
Nikki Peltier: Considering what happened after tht one, it was probably a good thing you weren’t involved. Kristian or Carrie would’ve been grabbed and then the other guy would have come for Missy.
Jeszika glares back.
Jeszika Gautier: Anybody tries to touch my daughter, I’ll show ‘em how the Huntress got her fuckin’ name!
Bethany and Nikki both put their hands up to try and calm their friend down.
Bethany Kenyon: You ain’t need your sniper rifle, Jezzy, it’s alright.
Nikki nods in agreement with Bethany.
Nikki Peltier: Just concentrate on your match tonight. Team TRIOCS is nothing to be taken lightly, even as a former World Champ.
Before Jeszika can answer, the door opens to admit Ashley Kenyon. Seeing the look on Jeszika’s face and how Nikki and Bethany both went silent on her arrival, Ashley’s hands go up, palms out.
Ashley Kenyon: Ok, what did I do now?
Bethany points at her wrist three times in rapid succession and Ashly scoffingly chuckles.
Ashley Kenyon: I am not late, I got caught talkin’ to Wildcat and then somebody tried to serve us unsweet tea.
The other three women all make faces as if Ashley has just waved something nasty in their faces.
Jeszika Gautier: Ain’t that considered cruel and unusual under the Geneva Convention?
Nikki Peltier: If it’s not, it should be a war crime!
Bethany shakes her head.
Bethany Kenyon: The Kingdom lets them get away with this? You’d think Lilith and Chrissy alone would object to that. Lluvia too!
Ashley shrugs.
Ashley Kenyon: Behold the Kingdom?
Bethany crosses her arms.
Bethany Kenyon: Ash, don’t start doing that. We just got here, we’re fighting TRIOCS and we’re scheduled for the Hive, don’t start shit with the Kingdom too because you can’t help yourself.
Ashley Kenyon: How am I starting shit by making an observation?
Bethany just shoots her a look.
Bethany Kenyon: Because you’re not “just making an observation” and you know it! Don’t do that shit before we’ve got a lay of the place. You know how we do things, Nikki does prep, we make a plan and then we execute. We can’t do that if you go out starting fires before Nik has even started really looking at everything.
Ashley rolls her eyes.
Ashley Kenyon: Yes, MOM!
Jeszika Gautier: So what are we looking at this one?
Nikki nods slowly.
Nikki Peltier: Team TRIOCS, Xander Fillmore, MMA Fighter. Just started in wrestling last year. You’re not going to want to stand and brawl with him… and no, Ash, your experience with Vince Jones and Dean Matthews does not mean you can do it anyway.
Ashley nods while Jeszika smirks.
Jeszika Gautier: She was talking to me too, Ash. She knows I’d be foolish enough to do that too.
Nikki Peltier: Ryleigh Ruin, 3X BJJ Champion, you do not want to make this a grappling contest with her.
Bethany, Jeszika and Ashley all nod.
Nikki Peltier: Rayola Davine, complete wildcard. There's not much on her because she’s a completely green rookie. There is no telling what she is and is not capable of so be careful not to get cocky with her. Does everybody understand?
All three wrestlers nod and Nikki nods back.
Nikki Peltier: We ready for this?
Ashley Kenyon: Fuckin’ right we are!
Jeszika Gautier: Damn right!
Bethany Kenyon: Hell yes!
Nikki smiles.
Nikki Peltier: Ok, let’s go show everybody what Arsenal has to offer!
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The TRIOCS (The Ruin Institute of Combat Sports) trio consisting of the principal owner Ryleigh Ruin, the Head Wrestling Trainer Xander Fillmore, and the prodigy of the school Rayola Davine enter the Collision Center for their very first match. Rayola and Xander are a newly wed couple that were married in Las Vegas in late 2020. The trio of best friends and colleagues expect to make a splash in New Frontier Wrestling. They came to the company when an open call was made for the upcoming tournament for the budding Trios Championships set to kick off at the end of the month. They were offered full time roster spots after signing up for the tournament and ones never to shy away from a challenge the trio decided to sign with NFW.
As the three ready for their match the discuss strategy for the warmup match the have against the trio that call themselves Arsenal.
Ryleigh: So you two love birds, please take just a moment with me and let’s talk about this match tonight. As we know Arsenal consists of a pair of sisters and their friend. The Kenyon sisters I assume have been training together for their lifetime and will have incredible synchronicity because of that. So, I think we should key on the non blood related member, Jeszika, and try to isolate her from the team?
Rayola: I don't know. Doesn't it seem like she might be the one we want to get on her own instead of just taking her from the equation?
Xander: I think you’re onto something here, babe! Those sisters will certainly be slightly more in sync due to spending their whole lives together. We as a team need to bring the cohesiveness we train and implement that very thing in this match and all of the future matches in the impending tournament. We got this in the bag ladies. Let’s go and show the world what TRIOCS is all about and why our philosophies and train techniques are superior to those of other training schools.
Ryleigh sits there listening and in deep contemplation of what her two protégé have said. The Fillmore’s have seen the deep thought from their leader and boss many times.
Ryleigh: You both make me so proud to have your friendship and your undying alliance in life. We are possibly the most cohesive group in NFW and the upcoming tournament. We will succeed and show the entire roster that Team TRIOCS is the gold standard in the biz. I can’t wait to see us become the champions and ultimate tournament winners. Let’s go out there and first off have fun but secondly be victorious!!
Xander: Couldn’t have said that any better myself, Little Monster. We have all the need tools to adapt to any situation with the three of us. You Ry, are the mastermind behind both your family’s business but also in the ring. My beautiful wife is the firecracker that has the fire and just enough daredevil in her to make the match exciting. And I bring the power and control that almost no one in the world can overcome. We're the total package and a certain problem for any trio we’ll come up against.
Rayola: Hell we have TRI in our name. Come on we were made for this. Arsenal may be big names in the industry but that's just because we haven't made our mark yet. So when we go out and make our debut, let's make it one people will remember. Let's make it Davine!
Xander laughs at the silly mistake Rayola made in her breakdown of the acronym of the school's name.
Xander: Uhhhh… Babe… The whole word TRIO is in our name?!?
He sits there just looking at the floor and laughing at how cute his wife is as his shoulders bounce up and down.
Ryleigh: Whatever Xan, you know what she meant. I agree with Ray tho, the unknown of us and the way we operate is a thing that we can use to our advantage, for sure!! The only one of us that they could have a lot of tape on is me and how much my game has changed so much recently it will make any of that footage obsolete.
Rayola: Either way, we're going in there and taking it to them hard. So let's get it.
Ryleigh: I see what you did with play on words. Very clever…
The three debuting very confident combatants are told they have five minutes to get to the staging area by a production assistant.
Xander: Team TRIOCS on three?
Ryleigh: Hell yeah!!
Rayola: You got it!
Team TRIOCS rise to their feet and on three all high five as the camera fades away.
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Match #5/Trios Match
ARSENAL v. Team TRIOCS
Debut versus Debut! Two teams of trios that had garnered a name and following for themselves were making their company in-ring debuts with this one and fans were ready for it! The bell rang with Ryleigh Ruin of TRIOCS and Jeszika Gautier starting things off. The two women locked up and Jeszika went right to the strength game, trying to power Ryleigh back but The Little Monster, as she was called, broke their lock up and as Jeszika stepped in for another one, Ruin shot in and caught her around the legs. Gautier had a 45lb advantage on Ruin but the latter picked the former up with sheer use of her momentum and slammed her to the mat in something that looked more like a move out of a grappling contest. Gautier was no stranger to the ground game and, as Ryleigh went in for a mount, Jeszika immediately attempted a Triangle Choke. Ryleigh got the arm up to guard the completion of the hold and went right to raining shots down into Jeszika’s ribs until she let her go. Jeszika rolled back to her feet and the crowd applauded. Trauma’s representatives in the box seats still jeered, despite the impressiveness of the display. The two women circled again and Ryleigh shot in for the legs again but Jeszika caught her around the waist and, this time, went full mama hoss and just Gutwrench Suplexed Ruin up and down to the mat.
Before Ryleigh could make it all the way up, Jeszika caught her around the waist from behind and flung her back with a big Snap German. This caused Ruin to roll back into her corner, though and Xander Fillmore tagged himself in. The Genius, as he was known, carefully closed in and locked up with Jeszika Gautier but rather than try a test of might play, he just grabbed her under the legs and swung her right up for a scoop powerslam into a cover for a narrow two count. He picked Gautier up who blasted him back with a European Uppercut and as he stepped in again, she nailed him in the thigh with a stiff kick that got an “Oooooh” from the crowd. Xander felt it too but seemed impressed as Jeszika motioned for him to give some back. This started a kick off between the two that saw Xander eventually start overwhelming Jeszika and she stumbled back, losing her balance, likely from a numb or “dead” leg. At ringside, Arsenal’s manager, Nikki Peltier motioned for Jeszika to come out of the ring and recover for a minute. This was as good an opportunity as any, given the Trios division rules and Ashley Kenyon helped herself into the ring to a rising roar of the crowd. The second she was in the ring, here came her mouth, talking trash to Xander and egging him on to take his best shot. Xander measured up, started going for another kick but Ashley’s leg launched off the mat and nailed him right in the ribs. Xander felt that one but Ashley wasn’t letting up and kept digging in with the kicks and chops. She went for an Irish whip but Xander managed a reversal, throwing her off the ropes instead before coming off the other side to try and hit her full on. Ashley managed to skid to a stop right in the middle of the ring and all Xander found waiting for him when he hit the center of the ring was a standing Hurricanrana by Ash Kenyon that flipped him over onto the mat and sent him rolling out of the ring.
Xander was outside but in came Rayola Davine! Spinning Clothesline by Davine took Ashley off her feet but the tattooed, former Child of Nephilim was right back on her feet and coming at Rayola again. The ambitious rookie popped up and nailed Ashley with a Dropkick that knocked her down. Ashley popped up again but Rayola came off the ropes, this time with a Springboard Dropkick that knocked her back, causing her to stumble through the ropes. Rayola took a moment to throw her hands up in triumph. She was feeling good about herself but it only lasted for a moment as Bethany Kenyon got into the match and hit a Running Bulldog to the Divine Ray. She pulled her back and up into a headlock, twisting out of Rayola’s attempt to counter with a backdrop suplex and delivered a Vertical Suplex of her own to the TRIOCS member. From outside, Ryleigh Ruin pulled her friend out of the ring while Xander Fillmore slid into the ring to engage Bethany Kenyon in a hard hitting slug fest. Xander was the bigger opponent but Bethany wasn’t backing down from the shots and just dished out some of her own. This match had quickly gone from about 60 to 100. Xander went for a Spinning Back Fist but Bethany gave a boxer’s weave under his arm and once Xander finished his spin, clipped him with an Enziguri. Xander rolled out of the ring again but was quickly back to his feet. Still, here came Bethany with a baseball slide, sending him into the barricade. She continued to rain blows onto Xander until Ryleigh Ruin rushed over to get her some.
Now Beth and Ryleigh were locking up with Ryleigh trying to get her down on the floor to work a limb. Just as she started to seem to be doing so, she looked up at the ring just in time to see Jeszika Gautier coming off the top turnbuckle with a Diving Crossbody. This took down both Xander and Ryleigh, but subsequently Bethany as well. As the four started getting up, it only resulted in a brawl between them. Rayola Davine saw the commotion and decided to break it up in her own way, getting inside the ring and running for the side everyone was outside on but halfway there, KISS OFF BY ASHLEY KENYON!!!! Davine hit the mat and Ash went for the cover! 1...2...SAVE BY XANDER FILLMORE!! The Genius dove in just at the last possible instant to break the pinfall up. Now it was Xander and Ashley again, striking off for the second time in the match. Again, Ashley got Xander reeling and decided to go for Kiss This but Xander caught her by the hand, struggling to push her back. Ashley grinned and HEADBUTTED Fillmore right in the nose, knocking him back as she measured up. Ran in. STALL ‘N CRA--NO!!!! Xander just made it out of the way and snatched Ashley up off her feet. THE LESSON!!!! Ashley got driven down into the mat!! Cover! 1...2...SAVE BY JESZIKA!! She dove in and shoved Xander off of Ashley before pushing her partner over towards the ropes to get her out of harm’s way. Xander was up on his feet, though and as Ashley exited the ring, he swooped in and another LESSON TO JESZIKA GAUTIER!!!! Xander went for the cover again but this time Ryleigh Ruin and Rayola Davine worked together to keep Bethany Kenyon from getting into the ring for the save as the referee counted the pinfall.
Nick Hanson: Wow!! Talk about intense!!
Jim Reynolds: I like this new division, Nicky! Who came up with this shit?!
Nick Hanson: Well, Mr. Brody didn’t come up with it but he certainly introduced it to the New Frontier.
Jim Reynolds: This shit was awesome. I wanna see more of this. Shit, I wanna see more of these teams!
Nick Hanson: Well, they’ll be meeting again in the Trios Cup Tournament so don’t go far, Jimbo!
Jim Reynolds: Fuck did I say about calling me Jimbo?
Winners: Team TRIOCS
Result: Pinfall
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Abigail is backstage looking for Sela. She stops and asks some crew who point in a direction. She wanders over to find Sela giggling to herself leaning against some crates.
Sela: I know, I know, Luthor's mad and I came in too early. I admit to that. But I promise you everything else is right where we want it.
Abigail rests a hand on Sela’s shoulder.
Abigail Lindsay: Like I could ever be mad at anything that you do.
Abigail smiles.
Abigail Lindsay: Luthor is on a high after our roster’s invasion of Trauma. Don’t mind him stroking his own ego believing he has anything under control. I trust your judgement. Can’t wait for what’s next.
Sela smiles and places her hand over Abigail's on her shoulder, giving her a wink.
Sela: We just need to keep this up. Pretty soon, there's going to be something even better for us to go after.
Abigail Lindsay: Of course mah Queen.
Abigail giggles as she says that in her best Jon Snow impression. Sela smirks at Abigail and takes her hand.
Sela: Let's go see what other trouble we can make.
Abigail nods.
Abigail Lindsay: Lead the way.
Sela walks off screen with Abigail blissfully following her as the scene fades.
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Sitting in his office, backstage, Luthor Callaway sips from a bottle of water as he relaxes in his chair. A sigh escapes him as he leans back and pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s been a long night already. Things have been crazy. He knows there’s more still to come. As he opens his eyes, he notices the camera on him and frowns.
Luthor Callaway: Hmm. Reckon it’s “response time” ain’t it? You out there watching, Santiago? Sure as hell hope so, ‘cause I got something for--
Luthor stops short as he seems to notice something across from his office. At first, he’s a little surprised. Alarmed a bit, even, but he quickly relaxes and sips from his water. He grins.
Luthor Callaway: Well hello, there. I’m glad you’re here actually. Got something you might wanna hear. Have a seat.
He motions to the chair across from his desk in front of the camera. Pause. Nothing happens. Luthor shrugs.
Luthor Callaway: Or don’t. Fuck do I care? So let’s see, now. Isabella Santiago. Adrianna Salvatore. Y’all have thrown down the gauntlet! February 2nd. Mexico City. Invasion: Civil War. War Games. Hell, I love me some War Games. Who the hell doesn’t? Now, Santiago, I don’t know what you had to do to get your uhh…former United States Champion to cooperate but from one genius to another, I salute you. I mean, Hell, look what I did. I tamed me a fucking living nightmare.
Luthor looks off screen again and shifts in his seat with a little grin.
Luthor Callaway: Alright, maybe tame ain’t the word, huh?
Chuckling, he looks back to the camera.
Luthor Callaway: So you’re giving Adrianna Salvatore the reins for this operation, huh? She gets to lead the charge. Captain the army. I gotta say, it hasn’t escape me that not everyone on your roster seems very happy about it. They almost seem entitled to that position themselves but I have a feeling Salvatore feels otherwise. Now then...she says she wants, oh that’s right. Adrianna, you’re out there in the audience, aren’t ya? Excuse me.
Mockingly, he puts an apologetic hand on his heart.
Luthor Callaway: You want a specific Captain for Team Collision to step up to the plate. You want “The Headliner” Cass Baumer to lead the red team because y’all got something to hash out. Well, good news and bad news. Bad news first. Baumer ain’t here tonight so she couldn’t grace you with a response herself while giving people that have been here longer than her a history lesson on the company, but hey. That’s what we love about her! Good news is, I just spoke with her on the phone so, you know what? You’re gonna get your request. You got your War Games with Cass Baumer, leading Team Collision. She’ll be hand picking her teammates herself. I’ll give her...say….until Aftershock this week. I guess we’ll see who else steps up for Team Blue, won’t we? Who’s gonna stand on the frontline with the destructive Adrianna Salvatore? Cali-Kate, you gonna step up and play nice with your brand partner? Or y’all gonna stay divided, like it’s seemed as of late?
The crowd buzzes with an instigative “oooooooh”. They know exactly what Luthor’s doing here.
Luthor Callaway: Guess we’ll find out, won’t we? Now! Since we’re going all out here, I got a little idea of my own. Hey….
Grinning in his cheshire way, he points off screen again.
Luthor Callaway: This is you. Get ready, this is you.
His attention turns back to the camera. He folds his hands on his desk.
Luthor Callaway: Santiago, I want you to bring out the animal in your ranks. The big dog, or should I say...the big cat. Santiago, I want...the Super Tiger. The little kitty with the big ol’ heart! After all, she did almost dethrone your Undisputed Champion, did she not? So, let’s see her really prove her worth to your brand. Super Tiger and five - yes, five team mates. Six of yours versus six of mine in an Elimination Match. Lucha House Rules. Anything goes, outside of the ring. Now, I don’t know if you or her got the guts. Hopefully, you do, because I’m gonna go ahead and show my full hand for this one. Team Collision, for the Elimination Match will be….
He starts counting on his fingers as he lists off names.
Luthor Callaway: Jerry Watts...Kamila Rose...Dona Rotten, who so diligently stood up against your tin can that tried to sneak in through our back door, despite our boss’ orders...Maki...and Matt Shields. Yeah, I know Shields likes to do things his own way and his little piece of tail also has a bit of an authority problem which I’ll get under control in the near future. Those five and their...well, I suppose “captain” doesn’t do justice here so, let’s call this one the nuclear option….
Luthor turns to look offscreen again and just nods.
Luthor Callaway: In the literal sense, even. We have our agreement. Free reign. No prisoners. No...fucking...mercy….
The General Manager of Collision relaxes back in his chair as if he’s finished talking. Finally, the camera turns, slowly panning across the office to show what or who Luthor’s been looking over at repeatedly this whole time. Standing off on his own, in the darker part of the office is...Doomsday. The massive, towering harbinger of destruction to all things living looms in the shadows. Hair hanging like a curtain in front of his mask, garbed in his long coat, over the rest of his black wardrobe. The crowd buzzes, rising from a low rumble to a roaring pop.
Nick Hanson: Ohhhhh my God, Jim!! He isn’t really...is he gonna…?
Jim Reynolds: He called it the Nuclear Option, Nicky! Luthor Callaway’s pushing that little red launch button and it’s gonna cause a huge ass BOOM!!
Nick Hanson: Doomsday is coming to Invasion! In action! He’ll be leading Team Collision in the Elimination Match and Luthor Callaway has challenged Isabella Santiago to put Super Tiger in charge of Team Trauma!
Jim Reynolds: You know what? I like it, Nicky!! I like it!! It’s gonna be like a Great Dane mauling a little baby kitten!
Nick Hanson: You are enjoying this way too much.
Jim Reynolds: I have no shame in admitting that!!
Nick Hanson: Folks, we’re gonna take a short break! After that, we’ve got championship action! The first of two, tonight! The Silver Mountain Championship will be on the line!!!
The camera stays on Doomsday as we fade out….
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Match #6/Ultimate Submission
Vanita Bosser v. Morgan Payne ©
Vanita Bosser won the Wrestle War Rumble at Wrestle War XVII to earn this opportunity and with INVASION: Civil War on the horizon, Luthor Callaway wanted to get any and all home-based squabbles out of the way. So, here were the champion and challenger, scheduled for the co-Main Event. Ring Announcer Roger Arden announced the match under Ultimate Submission rules. 30 minutes were set on the clock and the objective of the match was to score more points than your opponent before the clock reached 0:00. The kicker was, points would only be awarded via submission. The Trauma “visitors” sat up in the box, getting rowdy, trying to antagonize the competitors. Morgan and Vanita stared each other down in the center of the ring but simultaneously just shifted their eyes up to the boxes without actively turning their heads. Even though they were facing off against each other, they seemed to actively agree that the guests weren’t worth the time of jawing back. They stepped back from each other as they waited for the bell to ring….
Rather than going right for a lock up, they tease for it a bit with Vanita a little cautious to allow Morgan to even get her hands on her. At the same time, however, she’s not exactly afraid as they circle the mat, teasing that first contact. Vanita sticks her hands out and offers a test of might. Morgan moves like she’s going to accept it but shoots in for an Ankle Pick, taking Vanita down. Morgan scrambles to take a mount but Vanita gets one knee up into Morgan’s chest and shoves her back, rolling up to her feet. Morgan grins but Vanita mirrors the expression and the two circle up again. The clock’s ticking down as it’s Morgan now who offers up that test of might this time. Vanita’s cautious but Morgan wiggles her fingers and seems to be telling her it’s no trick. Vanita watches her like a cat as she reaches out. The two women lock hands together and start working to overpower one another. Morgan ends the test by stepping in and driving a knee into Vanita’s ribs. She quickly follows up, grabbing her by the back of the head and starts digging in with those elbow shots. Morgan whips her into the ropes and Vanita rebounds right back into a power slam. On instinct, Morgan starts to go for a cover but catches herself as soon as Senior Official James Greer starts to remind her of the rules. Morgan goes right into attempting an armbar but Vanita scrambles and twists free, putting a distance between herself and Payne.
Up in the box seats, Trauma’s roster are watching with condescending grins on their faces. The occasional jeer is thrown down at the ring. Inside the ring, Morgan presses the aggression, charging in and bulldozing Vanita into the corner with rapid forearms before getting her into the Clinch and moving to the Muay Thai Knees. She breaks, only to hit Bosser with a knife edged chop and whips her to the mat. As Vanita sits up, Morgan runs off the opposite side of the ropes and comes in with a yell, flying through the air with a stalling dropkick and completes her Yoi, You, Double Yoi, knocking Vanita through the ropes and to the outside floor. Morgan stands by the ropes, watching as Vanita starts getting to her feet. After a moment, she steps out onto the apron and waits for the right moment before running and just cannonballing off of the apron, right into Vanita and both competitors hit the floor. Morgan’s up first and looks right up at the box seats occupied by Trauma. Throws them the middle finger and bites her thumb at them. This is what costs her as she grabs Vanita and goes to ram her face into the commentary table but Bosser catches herself with her hands and drives an elbow into Morgan’s ribs until she’s able to get free. She grabs Payne by the arm then and Irish whips her shoulder first right into the ringpost. Morgan proverbially wraps around the post and hits the floor before Vanita picks her up by that wrist, pulls her arm back and just whips the limb itself into the ringpost. Morgan clutches at her shoulder as she’s thrown into the ring again. Vanita slides into the ring again and goes right for the kill. Fujiwara Armbar! Morgan desperately locks her hands together to try and prevent the extension. Morgan manages to get free and rolls away from Vanita but now the Vain One sees the target on her opponent. As Morgan makes it up to her knees, Vanita rushes in with a Yakuza Kick right to the shoulder and sends Morgan to the mat. Morgan starts getting up to her feet and Vanita steps in and grabs her, sets her up and hits a Snap Vertical Suplex. From there, Vanita rolls her body back and locks Morgan right up in a Scissored Armbar Crossface, torquing that shoulder. Morgan voices her pain, grasping and clawing for the ropes but they’re well out of reach. The referee also reminds her that this match doesn’t allow rope breaks anyway and, surprisingly to many, Morgan starts tapping the mat!! She’s tapping!! Morgan’s tapping!! The referee makes Vanita break and signals for her to take a corner before checking on Morgan and announces the first fall.
Vanita Bosser: 1
Morgan Payne: 0
Time Elapsed: 10:43
Morgan’s back to her feet, nursing her shoulder, slowly rolling it as the crowd goes wild. They’re drowning out the mocking jeers of Trauma’s roster from the VIP seats.The referee calls for the opponents to continue on. Vanita smells blood now as she eyes Morgan. The champion sneers back at her, beckoning her forward to come get some more. They step in and get a full collar & elbow lockup now. Vanita goes right for that shoulder again. Arm wringer followed by forearm shots to the shoulder, causing Morgan to reel. Morgan twists out of it and starts firing off with forearms to Vanita while she’s still got her wrist. Vanita comes back with short arm shoulder blocks right into that shoulder. She lets Morgan go and hits the ropes but Morgan runs off the ropes on her side. Payne ducks a lariat! Hits the ropes again. Vanita sets up for a superkick but Payne hits a Basement Dropkick, violently kicking her grounded leg out from under her. Vanita goes down, grasping at her knee as Morgan nurses her shoulder. The champion’s up first, however and goes right for the leg, pulling Vanita away from the ropes. She picks her up by the leg and just SLAMS her knee into the mat before dropping down and beginning to wail on it like a woman possessed. Vanita kicks Morgan off with her other foot. Morgan backs up as Vanita rises to her feet, gingerly standing on that leg but Morgan rushes in for a -- VAIN SHOT!! BOSSER HITS THE VAIN SHOT ON PAYNE!!!! Morgan hits the mat like a doornail and Vanita falls to the mat again, nursing her leg. Morgan lies on the mat, looking to be out like a light.
Vanita pulls herself up to her feet, flexing her leg out a bit before limping over to where Morgan’s laying. She looks like she’s about to lean over to slap her awake but she appears to rethink that. Morgan might be playing possum. So, Vanita, instead, grabs her by the legs and rolls her over into a Boston Crab. As Vanita locks it in, Morgan stirs out of her daze and realizes her predicament. She starts trying to crawl and drag herself across the ring to reach the ropes or the turnbuckle. Anything to pull herself up! She lifts her hand, teasing a tap out but slams her fist into the mat instead and throws her head up, roaring defiantly. Red faced. She plants her hands against the mat and, straining, pushes herself up off of the mat and literally begins to try and walk on her hands, bending herself the opposite way. Vanita starts staggering as she holds onto Morgan’s legs but she’s determined to try and keep that hold locked in. Eventually, Morgan’s strength perseveres and, in a stunning display of athleticism and technique, she ends up pushing Vanita backwards, off balance, effectively rolling herself out of the Boston Crab and the danger zone. Simultaneously, she grabs hold of Vanita’s leg she’d been punishing earlier but locks in a Kneebar! Complete with planting a foot against the other thigh to prevent Vanita from kicking free. Vanita’s screaming in pain and Morgan’s just all out screaming back at her like a wide eyed, crazed madwoman. Vanita hasn’t had enough yet so Morgan throws her weight back, forcing more sudden torque on the leg and finally, Vanita falls back as well, yelling out in pained frustration. After much debate, she starts slapping the mat, signaling the next recorded submission of the match and tying the score.
Vanita Bosser: 1
Morgan Payne: 1
Time Elapsed: 18:57
The referee makes Morgan break the hold after much resistance and the McKeesport Mauler finally relents, getting to her feet and moves to her corner to nurse her sore shoulder some more. Vanita nods to the referee that she’s okay and starts pulling herself up with the ropes. The crowd boos as Morgan runs in and forces the continue before James Greer’s signal, driving knees into Vanita’s ribs and forcing her to lean over the middle rope. Morgan steps out onto the apron and nails Vanita with the 412 Drive-By!! Morgan takes the time on the outside to relax her shoulder and let her back recover from the Crab submission she barely escaped before climbing back onto the apron. Vanita’s back on her feet and comes in for a shoulder charge. Morgan sidesteps and catches her in the side of the head with a desperate knee strike. Morgan throws herself over the ropes for a Sunset Flip but Vanita rolls through and up onto her feet. Morgan scrambles to get up as Vanita rushes in but the Vain One catches her in the right position for the VAIN MIRROR!!!!! Morgan lies sprawled, dazed and Vanita goes to lock in that Armbar Crossface that scored her the first point again. She seems to get it but Morgan, screaming in defiance, refuses to tap again and this time, pushes herself up onto her knees. Then one foot. Then two. She turns the hold into a side headlock on Vanita but Bosser shoves her off into the ropes, Morgan bounds back and ducks another Vain Shot. Before Vanita gets her foot down, Morgan snatches her up into an Inverted Firemen’s Carry. DAHNTAHN AFTER DAHK!!!!!
Both women are just completely laid the fuck OUT!!! The crowd is going wild and the commentary team reiterating that we definitely have a title match on our hands. Roger Arden announces the five minute warning. Five minutes left in the match! This seems to snap both women out of their daze as they start struggling to pull themselves up. They make it up at the same time and turn to look at each other. Vanita and Morgan limp towards the center of the ring. Vanita spreads her arms weakly, sweating bullets and mouths to Morgan, asking if that’s all she’s got. Morgan pushes her sweaty strands of hair out of her face and shakes her head defiantly, wagging a finger at Vanita, then motions for her to bring it. She pats her cheek, calling for Bosser to just fucking nail her with one. Vanita grins with amusement through her exhaustion, making sure Morgan wants it. Morgan slaps herself harder and mouths “Fucking Hit Me!” Hit her she does, as Vanita cocks back and blasts Morgan right in the jaw with a forearm then calls for her to hit her back. Morgan rolls her jaw and feeds Vanita one right back, then shoves her face, demanding she hit her harder. Vanita throws another shot and even Trauma hears it go SMACK up in the box seats. Morgan blasts Vanita back with another forearm. Now they’re straight jawjacking in mutual Italian. They keep firing shots off. Back and forth. Back and forth. Morgan starts firing off machine gun like forearms before hitting the ropes and comes back for KHAO L--NO!!!! Vanita sidesteps. Morgan turns. DISCUS FOREARM TO THE JAW!!!! Vanita grabs Morgan and sets her up!! VAIN MIRR--NO!!! Morgan deadweights to one knee then pops up again with Vanita in a Firemen’s Carry!! DEATH VALLEY DR--NO!! Vanita wriggles free and lands behind Morgan! She grabs Morgan around the head, setting up for a Running Bulldog, perhaps into the corner, but Morgan gets a foot up and plants it against the turnbuckle. Pushes back! She starts throwing elbows into Vanita’s ribs until she’s able to wriggle loose of the headlock. Grabs Vanita! Russian Legsweep!!! Nails it!!! Suddenly then, Roger Arden announces just ONE MINUTE left in the match but Morgan, still on the mat, keeps hold of Vanita and administers something like an Octopus Stretch from the mat. The hell?! The crowd watches with newfound curiosity. The commentary team doesn’t know what’s going on. Only Morgan, currently, is privy to a move she’s dubbed Three Rivers Crossing. Whatever it is, Vanita’s got nowhere to go as she kicks her legs and tries to get Morgan’s legs off from around her. The more she struggles, however, the tighter Morgan just wrenches the hold on and the more aggressively she shrieks until she starts raining blows with on Vanita’s face with one leg before stretching her more. Growling in agony and frustration, Vanita starts tapping Morgan’s leg to signal another submission. The ref sees it and makes it known!
Vanita Bosser: 1
Morgan Payne: 2
Time Elapsed: 29:13
Referee James Greer’s trying to get Morgan to let up on the hold now but Morgan’s seemed to have lost it and refuses until he threatens to penalize her. Only then does Morgan let Vanita go and stand up to get up in the big man’s face, panting heavily. He orders her back into a corner before he goes to check on Vanita to make sure she’s okay. She seems to be but there’s not much else to do in the match as the crowd counts down the final seconds, all the way to “0” and the final bell.
Roger Arden: Ladies and gentlemen! Here is your winner, with a score of 2 to 1, and STILL the New Frontier Wrestling Silver Mountain Champion..MORGAAAAAAAN...PAAAAAAAYNE!!!!
Jim Reynolds: WHAT A FUCKING NIGHT TO BE BACK AT THE TABLE, NICKY!!!! THAT WAS ONE FUCK OF A MATCH!!!!!
Nick Hanson: You can say that again, partner!! We just saw a true wrestling clinic put on right in front of us!
Jim Reynolds: Can I say it? Can I?
Nick Hanson: I know you’re going to anyway, so go ahead.
Jim Reynolds: BEHOLD...THE FUCKING...KINGDOM!!!!
Nick Hanson: I think the champ heard you, Jim!
Bobaflex rocks the arena as Morgan holds her title, pointing over to the commentary table with an exhausted grin on her face. She turns then as Vanita gets to her feet and the two stare each other down again. Payne and Bosser come to the center of the ring and start mouthing words again. After a pause, Morgan brings up a fist. A little dejected, Vanita bumps it before Morgan throws an arm around her and embraces someone she’s always considered a friend. Vanita relents and raises Morgan’s arm as a sign of respect then gives her the ring. Morgan raises her title again to celebrate before turning to look up at the Trauma roster again. She lifts her arm and holds the belt up and out towards them, almost as an invitation.
Nick Hanson: Yup. There’s one of Collision’s flag bearers, folks. She doesn’t seem phased by the enemies at the gate, so to speak.
Jim Reynolds: Hell no and why should she? Those motherfuckers got their asses laid out last week and they still ain’t learned their--HEY WHOA, WHAT THE SHIT?!
Jim Reynolds exclaims as, suddenly, inside the ring, Morgan is SHOWERED in green. The Silver Mountain Champion is DRENCHED in a thick, green sludge like goo!!! Morgan drops the belt to the mat as she stands, frozen in surprise at what just happened. She’s literally been showered in several gallons of the green goo, now standing in a giant green splash mark. Up in the box seats, Trauma wrestlers have mixed reactions, from shocked and surprised to hysterical laughter. Even General Manager Isabella Santiago just looks on with a jaw dropped smile as she slowly starts clapping. Given the color of the substance and recent events, it’s pretty clear as to who’s responsible for this.
Jim Reynolds: What in the HELL, Nicky?!
Nick Hanson: Morgan Payne is COVERED, Jim!
Jim Reynolds: She...she...fucking hell, she just got SLIMED!!! You don’t slime the champ!
Nick Hanson: Well...apparently, you---
Jim Reynolds: Oh shut the fuck up, Nicky!
Morgan lifts her gaze up towards the ceiling as if searching for the source of all of this. Or maybe she’s just trying to compose herself and not explode as she stands there in a rather embarrassing position. The shot fades to a commercial as Morgan closes her eyes and just starts to chuckle. It’s clear that it’s not a happy one, though. It’s her crazed side peeking out again.
Winner: Morgan Payne (Still Champion)
Result: Ultimate Submission
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When cameras find Damon Cross backstage as the unexpected main event looms, they do not see a man brimming with confidence. They do not see a man about to walk out under the bright lights to make his dream come true. No, Damon is pacing back and forth like a man awaiting his own end. One would half expect to see the shadow of a noose hanging from the gallows on the painted concrete wall behind him. In his ring gear, Damon pounds his right fist into his left palm, kneading the curled fingers and thumb for a moment before doing it again. When his pacing finally ceases, he suddenly rubs at his face with his palms, pressing his fingers into his eyes a little bit before letting out a groan.
Damon Cross: Damn it. DAMN IT!
He stops short of punching the wall, but the intent is clearly there; his fist is balled up and he rears back… but thankfully he stops himself. Releasing the fist, he lowers his shaking arm. A few deep breaths are taken. They are not quite as cleansing as Damon would like, but they will have to do. He feels the camera on him and turns, looking over his shoulder.
Damon Cross: You just HAD to have your attention, Sativa. Had to stroll into the boss’s office and make your snide comments. Because the show had been on the air for ten minutes and you hadn’t stepped in front of a lens yet. Is that it?
Clearly agitated, and becoming more so as he monologues, Damon turns and faces the camera, spreading his arms wide with a sardonic smile on his face.
Damon Cross: I don’t regret throwing fists with you, championne, and I’ll never NOT step up when a friend is in your crosshairs. But if I had known this would be the end result?
Suddenly, the smile is gone and all that is left is grim rage.
Damon Cross: I’d have just walked up on you in the parking lot and had it out there with no Luther and no cameras. Now?
His arms drop limp to his sides and he tilts his head back, staring up at the lights.
Damon Cross: Our timetable just got moved up three months. And here’s a little dose of honesty for you, Sativa, something I question whether you would have the courage to say in my position: I’m not ready for this. Not tonight. Not here and now. You can take that however you want. Call me a coward, have a laugh with your Kingdom cohorts… whatever. But as far as I’m concerned, there’s no time for false bravado and weak threats. The future is now. Tonight, in the Collision Center, 91 days early… Damon Cross versus Sativa Neveah for the World Heavyweight Championship. This is reality. And neither of us can escape it.
Inexplicably, he starts laughing a little.
Damon Cross: Hiashi told me once… that dreams don’t happen on the timetables that we choose. All you can do is be as ready as possible when the opportunity comes knocking. Well-
He turns, knocking hard on the wall. More like pounding his fist against it, really. The point is made, though.
Damon Cross: Knock, knock, championne. I told you I was gonna kick down the door to your Death Star and take over the place. Well, here I am. Let’s see what you’ve got.
Reaching out and grabbing the camera, Damon pulls it in close, glaring into it.
Damon Cross: You WILL remember my name!
Shoving the camera aside, Damon is already stalking off down the hall when the cameraman finally rights the device.
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“Trauma!”
“Trauma!”
Two different voices are heard over the loudspeaker when the Tron comes to life and we see those two voices belong to Jansen Myrrh and Teresa Duke collectively known as the Thick Girls Club. They are walking through the backstage area, looking into doorways and underneath boxes and behind production trunks.
Jansen Myrrh: You see any of those Trauma flunkees?
Teresa Duke: Nope. Don’t see a single one.
Jansen Myrrh: Well, I’m sure that it was one of them that shit on the floor in the bathroom.
Teresa Duke: That’s gross, Jansen.
Jansen Myrrh: Don’t blame me. I just report the news. Hey, Trauma twerps! Come on out! I know you’re hiding back here like a bunch of jackalopes!
Teresa Duke: Trauma! Come out, come out, wherever you are!
Jansen Myrrh: Maybe they’re at ringside.
Teresa Duke: Let’s find out.
The crowd pops as Teresa and Jansen appear on the stage. No music to announce their presence as they both have microphones in their hands and they walk down to ringside.
Jansen Myrrh: Anyone here seen any of those trashy looking Trauma jokers?
Teresa Duke: You know how you recognize a Trauma roster member? They be jumping people from behind like a group of cowards.
The crowd oohs at that comment. Teresa and Jansen walk up the steps and get into the ring. They make a show of going to each of the four sides of the ring and looking out into the crowd, looking for Trauma members before meeting back in the center of the ring.
Jansen Myrrh: I don’t see any Trauma folks in the crowd. Of course, you can’t typically tell the difference between someone on the Trauma roster and someone in the crowd, so we might have to look a little closer.
Jansen and Teresa put their hand over their eyes and begin to look through the crowd. Teresa looks up into the balcony and reaches over and pats Jansen on the shoulder.
Teresa Duke: Dat them?.
Jansen looks where Teresa is looking and shrugs.
Jansen Myrrh: Hard to say. Those bitches are in front of my face, not jumping me from behind. Maybe we should head on up there and introduce them to the Collision way.
Teresa Duke: I have a better idea. Hey, Mr. General Manager! Thick Girls Club hear you got a War Games match coming up at Invasion: Civil War. Me and my girl, Jansen? We want in. We don’t care who we gotta beat up to get into the match but if we don’t get our hands on some Trauma backstabbers pretty soon, Thick Girls Club gonna do some clobbering.
Jansen Myrrh: Hey, Callaway, you senile old man! You gave me a compliment this week and I had to be sure you weren’t hacked as you haven’t said two fucking words to me since you took this job. But you gotta team to fill out for War Games and you better start right fucking here because if we don’t get on that team, we’ll take out anyone you put on there until you include us. We ain’t even been on a show since WrestleWar so I feel like you forgot our names. Let me tell you our names, Jack. I’m Jansen Myrrh and this is Teresa Duke and we are the goddamned Thick Girls Club. We ain’t junior varsity around here. We’re the first string so you better give us a serious look when you put together your team. We won’t tolerate sitting on the sidelines.
Teresa Duke: And then, when we put the boots to Trauma and win the War Games, you better sure believe that Thick Girls Club deserves a shot at the Bloody Valkyries or whatever they’re calling themselves is nowadays. So what’s it gonna be, Mr. Callaway? We are putting the ball in your court. Put on on Team Collision or we fight our way until there’s no other option.
Crowd: TGC! TGC!
Jansen Myrrh: You better damn believe it.
They throw their microphones down and walks back up the ramp as the crowd continues to chant.
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MAIN EVENT/Singles Match
Damon Cross v. Sativa Nevaeh ©
When the bell rings, Damon is the cautious one to start things, slowly circling the champion. Sativa stays locked on to Damon, never taking her eyes off him as they go. They tease a lock-up a few times before actually doing so, fingers grasping at one another but never fully latching on. They are seemingly content to take things gradually at the beginning to prevent mistakes. But it only takes a moment after they got into the collar-and-elbow for Sativa to bury a knee into the midsection of Cross and lower a few clubbing blows to his back. Falling against the ropes, she rebounds with a hard kick to the side of the head, taking Damon down to a knee. And then the shit-talking starts.
Sativa Nevaeh: Come on! Do it for Danni!
Cackling at her own comment, Sativa pushes Damon into the ropes and shoots him off. Damon reverses the whip and aims to take the champ down with a discus lariat. Sativa ducks under, keeps going, and hits the ropes herself, leaping to the second strand and delivering a moonsault press to a still-standing Damon, bringing him down and pinning him for a one-count. Sativa is up quickly to press the attack, this time bullying Damon into the corner and pasting his chest with multiple chops. Finding a brief pause in the assault, Damon shoves Sativa back. Again he attempts a clothesline and again the champ ducks, spinning Damon around by the shoulder. This time, Damon rears back and drives his head into Sativa’s, briefly stunning the champ! The Ganja Goddess is momentarily discombobulated and the Black Ronin shoves HER into the corner now, blasting her with a right hand, then a chop, then a boot to the midsection… and just continuing to unleash a flurry of blows as the crowd gets more and more into the barrage! Grabbing Sativa by the arm, Damon fakes whipping her into the far corner, sending her into the same corner again and snatching her on the recoil for a big Greco-Roman Throw that sends the champion halfway across the ring! Sativa immediately rolls to the outside to catch her breath while the official tries to keep the fired-up Cross from following!
Finally circumventing the referee, Damon rolls out of the ring to pursue Sativa, grabbing her by the hair and whipping her into the barricade. The champion reverses and Damon stops himself from going chest-first into the retaining wall. Sativa is already in motion by the time he recovers, running almost the length of the apron to deliver a high-speed missile dropkick to the chest of the challenger! The impact sends him into the steps, seated on the floor against them. Not missing an opportunity, Sativa charges and aims to boot Damon in the skull only for him to roll aside just in the nick, the top half of the steps left crooked from the champion’s attack. Thankfully, Sativa does not jam up her knee in the attack, but she IS open and Damon makes the most of this, bouncing her head off the hard part of the ring apron before rolling her into the ring. Sativa is up quicker than expected, however, and puts the boots to Damon as he re-enters. Got ‘Em is attempted but Damon shoves her forward, striking with a Yakuza kick that knocks the champion down! Damon goes for a lateral press, but Sativa kicks out just after the hand comes down for two. Intent on keeping the wind at his back, Damon boots the champion in the gut, hits a snap suplex, and follows up with a rolling neck snap, again trying for the pin but, again, unable to keep Sativa down for longer than a quick two.
On his knees on the mat, Damon nods slowly and gets into motion again, sending Sativa into the ropes. The Blood Countess surprises the Saint of Bones by sliding between his legs and coming up behind him and delivering a backcracker! Arched up and down on his knees, Damon is in clear anguish as a smirking champion hooks the arms, the crowd yelling-
Execute Order 66!
-before Sativa spikes Damon with her Order 66 suplex variation! She bridges into a pin attempt, but somehow Cross is able to kick out at two. Not allowing frustration to take hold, Sativa just keeps the pressure on, laying in kicks to the midsection of the challenger, then backing off for a nasty-looking punt that has Cross gasping for air and clutching his left side. Sativa rails on him a little bit more as she lays in more violence, never once losing herself to empty taunting-
Sativa Nevaeh: You’re gonna make your little fiancee cry, Cross!
-while delivering punishment. Damon starts fighting back, throwing fists with the champion, but when it looks like he has the advantage after a couple unanswered blows, a missed swing by the over-eager challenger is enough to open him up for a Nerf This! from Sativa, dropping him to a knee! A DDT and standing shooting star press follow… and Damon still gets the shoulder up before three! It is not frustration so much as irritation that has the champion grimacing, yelling at the official to get out of her way so she can whip Damon with all she has into the buckles. She focuses most of her attack on the midsection now, trying to limit the Black Ronin’s power game and speed. Several shoulder thrusts in the corner drive yet more air out of his lungs but it isn’t quite enough. She sets him on the top turnbuckle, facing the crowd, then climbs up in front of him. Holding his head by the hair, she uncorks a few straight fists before driving him HARD into the mat with a Blitzed! The fans are trying to rouse the challenger at this point, but Sativa tunes them out. She heads to the top a second time, spreading her arms wide and yelling out-
Sativa Nevaeh: I’m a Leaf on the Wind!
Crowd: Watch how I soar!
-before leaping into the Leaf on the Wind…
...BUT DAMON GETS THE KNEES UP!
Sativa bounces off the raised knees of Cross, clutching her own midsection and gasping for air. Damon, still battered and definitely feeling the impact of Sativa’s dive despite the block, gets to his feet and staggers a bit. Sativa comes up at nearly the same time, displaying fully her considerable tenacity, and the two trade shots again. But the champ’s come slower this time and Damon is able to catch her at belt level with a knee before spiking her with the Dragonfire DDT! Still moving slowly, Cross moves to the other side of the ropes and, standing for a moment, soaks in a moment of cheers as he spreads his arms wide like a swan in flight. He leaps to the top rope and… White Redemption!
But SATIVA gets the knees up this time!
Landing hard across the legs of the champion, Damon is in considerable pain at this point, struggling to get back to his feet before the champion can pounce. Luckily, she still took damage, but it looks as if both champion and challenger are going on fumes at this point. Sativa attacks first, lacing into Damon’s already-red chest with chops, ducking his retort and catching him with a quick stunner. Recoiling but still on his feet, Damon attempts an ill-aimed Yakuza kick but Sativa ducks! She leaps to the ropes, springboarding off and turning toward the challenger… and Damon counters with a White Thunder Bomb! The referee drops down to make the count… and Sativa just gets the shoulder up before three! Damon shows the ref three fingers but has two shown back, the frustration starting to mount. Shaking his head, Cross forces himself up and starts stalking Sativa! There’s darkness in the eyes of the Saint of Bones as he stays behind Sativa, going in for the Father’s Sin the moment she’s vertical! But the champion gets out of the hold before Damon can lock her down, bringing him down with the Got ‘Em! She rolls him over and hooks the near leg… but Cross puts a foot on the ropes, staying in it! Sativa shoves the leg aside and hooks the far one this time… but still only two!
Sativa drags Damon up and sends him hard into the corner. She busts in with a clothesline! Then another! On the third, Damon scoops her up with an arm and delivers a side slam backbreaker across his knee! Seeing her down, he heads up top, back to the ring, seemingly setting up for the corkscrew moonsault, but Sativa springs up and heads up top with him, leading to a precarious slugfest on the top rope! Each blow seems like it will send one or the other crashing to the floor, but at this point neither competitor is willing to acknowledge the danger! Fists fly back and forth until the champion starts getting the better of it! Damon’s knocked back down into the ring with a stiff elbow, landing hard. Sativa loses her footing, but catches herself before she falls, stepping back up on the ropes. It looks as though she means to go for the Sonic Screwdriver but Damon is able to get to his feet and head up with her, putting an end to that plan! He cinches her in, suplex-style, and we can see him take a deep breath before he hoists Sativa up and delivers a Black Crucifixion from the top rope! Both of them land crushingly hard on the canvas below, and it takes a full moment before Damon can drag himself over Sativa and weakly hook the far leg… but it’s enough to keep the champion down for three and crown a new champion!
Roger Arden: Here is your winner aaaaaaand NEEEEEEWWWW….NEW FRONTIER WRESTLING, WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!! DAMON...CROSS!!!!!
Nick Hanson: Do my eyes and ears deceive me or is this really happening, Jim Reynolds?!
Jim Reynolds: I can’t believe it for a goddamn second!!!! Nicky, he...he...he beat the champ!
Nick Hanson: Say! His! Name, ladies and gentlemen! The Black Ronin, Damon Cross! The NEW World Heavyweight Champion!
Jim Reynolds: Sativa deserves a rematch, damn it!! This is some bullshit!
Nick Hanson: You can cry about that later, Jim, but you know what that means now! We have another match set for Invasion: Civil Wa--oh, yuuuup! Damon Cross knows it, too!!
As his music plays, Damon Cross holds onto the World Heavyweight Title. Sativa Nevaeh has made a swift retreat, glaring back at the ring towards him but the new champion’s attention is directed up at the VIP box seats. Through the sweat and the mess of hair in his face, Damon pushes his bangs back and glares up at the center box. Beside Isabella Santiago and Cali-Kate, Anton Crowley - NFW Undisputed Champion - stands out of his seat and looks down at Damon Cross. The two champions raise their titles in the air to the roar of the crowd. Damon also lifts his other arm and points directly at Anton Crowley and a dark smile appears on his face.
Nick Hanson: Champions versus Champions, folks! And we’re gonna see these two gentlemen meet in the ring in Mexico City.
Jim Reynolds: Well, you know what they say, Nicky! The enemy of my enemy! Make him say your fucking name, Cross!!!
Collision goes off the air with Damon Cross standing on the turnbuckle now, still watching Anton Crowley. Trauma’s roster members are throwing shade down at Cross, hyping up their Undisputed Champion. Damon Cross is still just...smiling….
Winner: Damon Cross (NEW Champion!)
Result: Pinfall
© New Frontier Wrestling 2018
© New Frontier Wrestling 2018