Battleground #38 : Full Circle (Show)

[edwarddubin0604]

(Psychotic Goth is staring into the camera laughing maniacally as if he's heard something funny.)

Psychotic Goth: "Oh poor Rally Jackson. Poor....Poor....Poor Rally Jackson. The so-called 'Golden God' is scared of me."

(He lets out a shrill laugh before screaming in a Native-American dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "You're running around like a scared little overly priviledged and paranoid brat trying to get sympathy. Then you make all the usual excuses to justify your fear of me using native-American tribes to justify your fear of me."

(Psychotic Goth roars in a Native-American dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "You better get the actual areas each tribe you mentioned exists. You see the Mayans were Central American but then again you are senile and too much of a victim of concussions you worthless piece of shit."

(He laughs demonically.)

Psychotic Goth: "I can tell I have gotten to you if you are that desperate to spout excuses and clichés. My venom has penetrated you and you are losing your mind due to my poison and now you shall fall victim to 'The Serpent of SWAT.' The darkness has begun to envelope you and you are filled with terror. In a matter of moments that tick down to to your impending doom. Thus I have spoken and thus you shall receive your final judgement of doom."

(Psychotic Goth roars as the camera goes black and the scene slowly fades to black.)

[SWAT Team]

[Rip it Up by 28 Days hits as we switch back to the ring, there is a couch and a coffee table and the set of Suit's Suite is in the ring. Mad Dog Paul Soutter makes his way down to the ring, high fiving the fans, no selling social distancing.]

[On the SWAT Tron we see doctored footage of Tom Cruise jumping up and down on the couch imposed in the ring. Then more doctored footage showing Rick James/Dave Chappelle on his back stamping his feet on the couch. FUCK_ YO_ COUCH. Now a shot of Heidi giving Suit a lap dance on the couch on the SWAT Tron.]

Soutter : WELCOME TO SUITS SUITE!!!

What you witnessed earlier, was a long time coming. Finally though, I am back home with the Bandits!

Why? I’ll get to that in due course … first though, there has been someone from SWAT running around the internet undermining our ‘esteemed’ (he chokes on the word) Commish.

Well, (Vince voice) IT WAS ME!

Valentine! You don’t have a serious bone in your body! So, I decided I have had enough of the likes of you, and Radu! Of Everyone who wants to ………

[Suit is cut off as Jonnie Valentine walks out onto the rampway, mic in hand, no music, no fanfare.]

Jonnie : Let me stop you right there Bad Dog...

[Crowd pops.]

Soutter : It's Mad Dog....

Jonnie : (Cutting him off) Look, I don't know why you're mad. You said to me you thought I should have the power to hire and fire? Well, I think you’ve got something there so, hit the bricks.

[The crowd erupt.]

Soutter : WHAT?! You can’t do that!

Jonnie : I just did!

[Crowd start singing ‘Nah Nah Nah Nah, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye’. Jonnie joins in and Suit is irate and boots the bottom rope.]

Soutter : NO! You can’t do that!

You see. When I said the board had let Dane go, that was true. They also made another decision, and that was they were tired of your bumbling ass riding on their coat tails and mooching a paycheck. So, they appointed me back as the new President of SWAT. And my first act, after setting you up in that stupid car park, is to FIRE YOU JONNIE VALENTINE!

Jeremy Tucker : What? Soutter is back as Pres?

Andrew Fulton : That’s what he just said Jerry!

Jonnie : (chuckles) You know what? That's fine. We all know why you made me commissioner anyway. You wanted to take me out of the ring. You were tired of me beating anyone in the KGB whenever it was a fair fight, and when you couldn't beat me, you put me on the sideline in this suit...(takes off his jacket) and this tie...(undoes tie) But I'm not a GM, I'm not a booker, I'm not a promoter. (unbuttons dress shirt) I'm the rightful SWAT World Heavyweight Champion. And ever since you let an anti-semitic biker and his flunky steal my title, you've put every political roadblock in my way ever since.

(Jonnie is now shirtless in dress pants)

Jonnie : So you might think this is your big checkmate, but you just added the most dangerous guy back to your roster!

(The Cleveland crowd roars. Soutter sputters)

Soutter : Security! Get his ass out of my arena!

[Paul starts singing ‘Nah Nah Nah Nah, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye’ No one joins in though and they instead start pelting the ring with trash and garbage.]

Jonnie : You hear that, Paul? That's the sound of your paying public being so fed up with your back-dealing, swerving, and betrayal that they won't go along with another thing you do.

(Security shows up, starts to grab Jonnie's arms)

Jonnie : Oh, and you owe me $25 for your share of the carriage ride.

(Soutter explodes, yelling "I'm not gonna pay you a dime! You understand me! I didn't even want to go on that flea bag ride!" as security leads Jonnie away)

[Union Jack]

The Tron cuts to the backstage area of the arena where we see a sprawling generic hallway littered with shipping crates, sound equipment and the other brick-a-brack required for putting on a show of this caliber. With the show winding up toward it's climax, the usual calm of the road agents and backstage staff has been replaced by a sudden urgency as everyone rushes to complete their required tasks to ensure the main event goes off without a hitch. All that is, apart from one sequin clad bear who meanders along the corridor, singing quietly to himself – If you listen hard, you just might make out the words!

“Do you fuck on first dates? Does you Dad own a brewery? Could I feel Your tits? Or would you show 'em to m.... Oh! Hey Guys!” Jack grins broadly as he rounds the final corner leading to the SWAT interview set and runs into Vanessa, Dinosaurio and Warren Webber. “Hey 'Nessa, were your ears burning? I was just thinking about you!”

“Jack, where the hell have you been?!” Vanessa demands, ignoring Jack's light hearted attempt at distraction. “The interview was scheduled for two segments ago!”

“OH! I erm... See... It's like this... I was over by the women's locker room's earlier, and I noticed there's this cleaners closet right?! Anyway, I realized that, if someone was to turn a mop bucket upside down and stand on it, there's a loose vent cover there which they could remove and then reach into, and if they position a pocket mirror just right, they would be able to see straight into the women's showers! Really is a shocking breach of personal privacy.” Jack shakes his head in disgust. “Anyway, it took forever to find screwdriver for the vent cover and a mirror. Ironic really..” Jack snorts laughter and shakes his head “..probably would have found a mirror much faster if I had been able to ask one of the girls to borrow theirs.”

Vanessa stares at the British Luchador, her mouth agape “Are... Are you kidding me?!”

“Relax!” Interrupts Dinosaurio as he pushes his way between Vanessa and Jack before an argument can ensue. He throws an arm around Jack's shoulders and pats him on the chest. “Come on Vanessa…He's clearly joking! Come, mi amigo... We have to talk with Warren.”

“You mean...” Jack looks briefly around the set and a sudden look of understanding dawns on his face. “Oh ... Hey Weston! Did I keep you waiting?! I've some great pictures on me phone, promise it'll make up for the inconvenience.”

“It's fine Jack, honestly.” Warren replies, shifting awkwardly as he avoids eye contact with the Brit before nodding to the camera. “We're live with the team of Pequeño Dinosaurio and Union Jack, who made their debut as a tag team earlier on tonight! Your first match together saw you pick up an unconventional win in a contest marred by outside interference. How do yo....”

“Oh that's bollox!” Jack interrupts, immediately derailing the professional interview Warren had been hoping for. “Dinosaurio had the bloody match won before that big bastard even lumbered his way down to the ring! Plus they had a three on two advantage and still couldn't get the sodding job done! If that's the kinda bloke the KGB produces, is it really any wonder Esmeralda needs to look elsewhere to get her pipes cleaned? Armand and his buddies are probably too busy playing tickle the pickle on your right to get her service book stamped!”

Stunned, Warren struggles to try to get the interview back on track.

“Speaking of which Jack, earlier tonight you went looking for the KGB to get a measure of revenge for the attack on Dinosaurio. How do you think that played into the result of your match?”

“Eh.. Excuse me?!” Jack asks, visibly insulted. “I was simply trying to return that lead pipe to it's rightful owner! It's hardly my fault that soppy twat wasn't looking where he was going and allegedly took a slight knock to the family jewels.”

“But, Jack... you made a Bangkok joke.” Warren gently reminds him.

“Oh yeah.” Jack laughs while shaking his head. Suddenly he snaps back into a more serious demeanor. “Hey! Who's side are you on anyway, Wade?!”

“Jack, I'm not on anyone's side.” Warren hesitates “I... I'm just trying to do my job!”.

“Yeah...” Jack growls angrily. “And don't you forget it!”

Warren squirms awkwardly, before turning his attention toward the other half of the team.

“Dinosaurio, you came into this match still carrying the injury that cost you your Television Championship, does the victory here take the sting out of that loss?”

Nodding, the young dinosaur clearly feels better about the match than his partner, smiling he looks into the camera.

“Si, though one day I will need to face Armand himself for ordering his goons to come after me…this is enough for now. Right now there, there is a new goal…”

For a moment, the rookie luchador second guesses himself, should he go through with this? If he did, there would be no going back.

“…you mentioned how I lost the Television championship. I did my best to rehab the injury while still competing and I can finally say my knee is back to one hundred percent. And with the KGB behind me for now and rematches seemingly hard to come by…there’s one fact I’d like to take a moment to remind our illustrious owner of.” Braver and more confident than usual, he was about to take a gamble. He’d bet on himself, just like he did when he left OPW for SWAT to begin with.

Drawing a long breath, the former TV Champ turns his attention back to Warren. “You mentioned how I lost the Television Championship Warren, but not how I won it. I think people have forgotten some things about me. Like that I have an undefeated record against the current SWAT World Heavyweight Champion!”

Smelling a scoop, Warren’s voice perks up an octave or two. “Are you challenging Psychotic Goth?”

“I, I am. Aside from one loss, I’ve been successful in SWAT. Successful enough that if Goth wins here tonight, I want another match with him. My chance at soaring high! I know I have what it takes to be champion!”

“That’s exciting news! We’ll get an answer from Goth I’m sure, should he be successful and defend his title just minutes from now. Until we hear back about your challenge, I have to ask.” Warren continues “What are the immediate plans for your team? Was this a one off endeavor, or the start of something new?”

“This isn't just the start of something new Wendell!” Jack injects with a burst of enthusiasm. “This is the start of something legendary! A dynasty! An epic tale for the ages! Have you ever wondered what you'd get if a Dinosaur fucked a Grizzly Bear?! Of course you have - I've seen your porn collection – What you'd get is him and me! The Bear-O-Dactyl!!”

Nodding his head as he slaps his friend on the shoulder, Dinosaurio picks right up where Union Jack left off. “That's right Warren…wait, did you say Bear-O-Dactyl?” Clearly confused, Pequeno Dinosaurio adds another question to the mix. “I thought we were going with el legado de la lucha libre?”

Scrunching his nose, Jack confesses. “That white bread name? Nah, I erased that and wrote something awesome instead. Hence Bear-O-Dactyl! Think of the merch money alone mate!”

Looking to a nodding Jack, Dinosaurio shrugs and continues “Jack and I are officially throwing our name into the hat. Together, we will win the Anzac Cup and take the SWAT tag team division by storm! I’ll get my match with Armand Von Krauss when Jack and I show up to take those Tagteam championships!”

“Well you heard it here first..” Warren turns toward the camera “..the newest tag team in SWAT has officially joined the Anzac Cup Tournament! If tonight is anything to go by Bear-O-Dactyl must already be a firm favorite to win the entire thing!”

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker: “And we’re back and it’s time for your main event and it doesn’t get any bigger than this…The SWAT World Heavyweight Championship, Psychotic Goth defending against…”

Andrew Fulton: “The Golden GOD! Rally Jackson. I hate to call my shot but…”

Jeremy Tucker: “You love to call your shot.”

Andrew Fulton: “Like I was saying…I hate to call my shot here but we all know I am one hundo p behind Rally as he looks to regain the title Goth stole from him!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Stole? I’m not sure how you’re going to twist this but Psychotic Goth has been a fighting champion.”

Andrew Fulton: “I’m not twisting anything Jerry, Psychotic Goth’s little black fairytale ends tonight.”

Jeremy Tucker: “That remains to be seen, but we’re only moments from the answer. Let’s send it down to the ring and Frank Salazar!”

[Frank enters the ring to a modest applause from the SWAT fans. Straightening his tie, he begins.]

Frank Salazar: “The following contest is your main event of the evening and is scheduled for one fall…”

[Being a veteran, a smiling Frank pauses letting the crowd have their fun before continuing.]

Frank Salazar: “…and is for the Syndicate Wrestling And Tradition World Heavyweight Championship!!”

[Forced to pause for a second time, Frank is simply drowned out by the raucous Cleveland crowd!]

Frank Salazar: “Introducing first, the challenger…”

[‘Hate or Glory’ by Gesaffelstein starts to play and immediately the crowd reacts to the former two time Champion.]

Frank Salazar: “…hailing from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil…weighing in at three hundred pounds and representing The Society of the New Breed…The Golden God…RALLY JACKSON!”

[Showering him with boos as he emerges through the curtain, the former champion takes a long drink from his ever present water bottle before slowly walking down from the stage.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Here comes the former champion, Rally Jackson and he is looking poised and ready to go tonight!”

Andrew Fulton: “The Golden God is always ready!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Well, truth be told Rally has a bit of a reputation for not putting in the effort until the match actually starts…”

Andrew Fulton: “So, what you’re really saying is, he’s a game time performer. Like a champion should be!”

[Sipping his water and taking his time lest he break a sweat, Rally Jackson motions that the belt will soon be back around his waist once again, drawing a fresh chorus of boos from the crowd.]

Jeremy Tucker: “He’s been there before Andrew, there’s no denying that, but this ‘black fairy tale’ as you called it…well I’m not sure I want it to end just yet. Psychotic Goth has been a fighting champion and to see his hard work pay off has been an inspirational moment that I think the SWAT faithful have latched onto.”

Andrew Fulton: “Sermon much Jerry? Goth won one for the fans. Boo hoo! Before that everyone hated both these guys. Newsflash, Psychotic Goth won that title for no one but himself!”

[Ignoring the outstretched hands of the fans, the Golden God paces a lap around the ring, lifting the ring skirt and nodding. Seemingly content with whatever he was looking for, Rally enters the ring.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Jackson seems happy with his supply of water. And there, toweling himself off…I mean we could be moments away from that man being a three time champion!”

Andrew Fulton: “We could be so lucky! Rally Jackson is a champion Jerry, now he’s just waiting to get the belt back!”

[Again, taking his time Rally walks up the ring step deliberately before wiping his feet and entering the ring between the second and third ropes, the second rope sagging with Jackson’s excess girth.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Finally in the ring is Rally Jackson, now Jackson getting checked by the ref. We don’t want any funny business…”

Andrew Fulton: “What the hell is that supposed to mean? My close personal friend Rally Jackson would never even think about cheating!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Close, personal friend huh?”

Andrew Fulton: “Too far?”

Jeremy Tucker: “A touch.”

Andrew Fulton: “Damn, look Rally might be older and slower than Goth but he’s got experience and experience is something you get by being successful for a long time and Rally Jackson has done that. That is why I’m picking hashtag ‘and new’ SWAT World Heavyweight Champion!”

Jeremy Tucker: “It might be a biased opinion, but at least you’ve put some thought into it.”

Andrew Fulton: “Thanks, you’re both condescending and complimentary.”

[As Rally paces the ring, Frank Salazar waits until the music stops.]

Frank Salazar: “And his opponent…accompanied to the ring by Vampira. From the depths of hell and weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds…he is the King of the Goths…the Syndicate Wrestling And Tradition World Heavyweight Champion…Psychotic GOTH!”

[A thick, putrid green mist bellows out of the ring entrance as a woman screams and Psychotic Goth’s maniacal laughter fills the air.

“Welcome To Your Death" by Annihilator plays and Vampira leads Psychotic Goth to ringside in chains, Psychotic Goth's SWAT Workd Heavyweight Championship around his waist.]

Jeremy Tucker: “And there is the World Heavyweight Champion, led to the ring by his wife and manager Vampira. Goth looks intense!”

Andrew Fulton: “This is Psychotic Goth you’re talking about, saying he’s intense is like saying he’s breathing. He’s insane!”

Jeremy Tucker: “It’s that crazed assault and healthy dose of persistence that brought Goth to the gold. It may also very well be how he keeps it!”

Andrew Fulton: “You have got to be kidding me!? I go out and call my shot and you go out of your way to deliberately go against me!?”

Jeremy Tucker: “I wouldn’t say I deliberately pick against you just to aggravate you. I mean, if that happens all the better, but it’s not my goal.”

Andrew Fulton: “You’re impossible…”

[He ignores the fans and stops at ringside, waiting for Vampira to unlock the chains. Goth rubs his wrists hard as he climbs the ringsteps and enters the ring and stands in his corner.]

Jeremy Tucker: “I aim to please Fulton, I aim to please. Psychotic Goth claimed Rally was afraid of him…”

Andrew Fulton: “Afraid?! Hell no Rally Jackson is afraid of two things. Bees: ‘cause he’s allergic…and cardio. End of list Jerry. If Psychotic Goth thinks he can get into the head of a veteran like Rally, he’s sadly mistaken! It’s gonna take a lot more than some green water and screaming gibberish to get into the head of a multiple time Champion like Jackson.”

Jeremy Tucker: “Wow, quite the reaction. Did it hit a nerve?”

Andrew Fulton: “No! Shut up! Then when you’re done shutting up, tell me who Psychotic Goth thinks he is?”

Jeremy Tucker: “The World Heavyweight Champion.”

Andrew Fulton: “Ok. You can shut up again…”

[He slowly takes off his trenchcoat and jewellery, lowering his head and raising his arms before throwing his head back revealing his pale face.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth is looking more and more comfortable as champion as the weeks go by. His confidence has grown tenfold…”

Andrew Fulton: “Who told you to talk again? Look, Goth can be comfortable all he wants, that just works towards Rally’s favour! A confident champion or is he over confident?”

[Snarling like a demonic maniac, he’s crazed and attempting to intimidate as he is given the championship and caresses it before placing it in his corner for Vampira to hold for safe keeping.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Vampira safe guarding her husband’s championship…”

Andrew Fulton: “What’s she gonna do when her dear hubby loses it though. I’d hate to be the ring side attendant who has to take that from her.”

[Psychotic Goth enters the ring and raises his arms for his creatures of the night before snarling in the direction of Rally Jackson.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Everybody is in the ring and ready, let’s get this one underway!”

Andrew Fulton: “Here we go!”

DING! DING!! DING!!!

[Goth immediately takes Center ring, squaring up to Rally and begins throwing left and right bombs that immediately get the crowd to their feet.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth the aggressor here in the opening moments and home’s stocking Rally Jackson trying to end this early! Big shots mostly absorbed by the veteran Jackson…”

Andrew Fulton: “You’re damn right, the Golden God has defense for days, we’re one mistake away from a Rio Squeal and a new champion!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Say what you will but a faster pace favours the champion. This is sound strategy by Psychotic Goth.”

Andrew Fulton: “Just the beginning Jerry, Rally just needs a minute to catch his breath!”

[Rally Jackson does his best to cover up as the barrage continues, Goth is battering the former champion around the ring as Jackson stumbles about. Finally gaining solace in a corner and covers up waiting for the referee to step in.]

Jeremy Tucker: “A minute to catch his breath? The match just started!”

Andrew Fulton: “Just shut up already! He’s a finely tuned athlete in there with a maniac, give him a minute!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth is pummelling Jackson here in the opening moments and the fans are going crazy! Goth’s road to the title was long and full of ups and downs, that’s why so many people identify with it. We have entire Goth sections of the crowd now!”

Andrew Fulton: “Where is the ref?! Come on!”

[Seeing enough of Rally being drummed upon in the corner, the referee starts their five count.]

…One!

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth has this crowd whipping into a frenzy and shows no signs of stopping!”

Andrew Fulton: “Get in there ref and make him stop damn it!”

……Two!!

Jeremy Tucker: “He gets until five Andrew.”

Andrew Fulton: “Don’t patronize me Jerry, I know the rules but this is excessive!”

………Three!!!

Jeremy Tucker: “If Rally was doing this, you’d be fine with it!”

Andrew Fulton: “That’s not the point Jerry, the point is, I figured it out…That’s his plan to sneak past Rally…he’s going to get himself disqualified!”

…………Four!!!!

[Instead of starting a riot and disqualifying Goth, the ref physically inserts themselve between Psychotic Goth and a battered Rally Jackson, Goth roars with rage as the ref does their best to back the World Champion up.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Referee now stepping in to break it up!”

Andrew Fulton: “Finally! Way to do your job you bum!”

[Reaching over the top, Rally takes advantage and quickly rakes the eyes of Goth, staggering the bigger man.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Rake to the eyes while the ref was distracted by Goth’s continuing to go after the challenger, this has become personal. Dirty tactics and all!”

Andrew Fulton: “Dirty? That’s an ugly word. We prefer opportunistic. Besides the ref is out there doing their best…”

[Drawing a deep breath and exploding forward, Rally Jackson pulls a devastating Kappo Kick from practically nowhere, landing flush to the pale jaw of Psychotic Goth. Psychotic Goth and dropping the champion to the canvas!]

Jeremy Tucker: “What a kick from Rally Jackson! Goth is down! Jackson is down!”

Andrew Fulton: “He’s just catching his breath!”

[True to Fulton’s words, Rally Jackson is doing his best to regain his wind after taking a pounding to open the match. Dragging himself to his feet he makes sure to stomp at the head of Psychotic Goth before leaning in a corner…]

Jeremy Tucker: “Jackson had Goth hurt but was too exhausted to make the cover! Rally is waiting for the champion as he shakes out the cobwebs and regains some measure of composure!”

Andrew Fulton: “Sure he missed out on a pin attempt but Rally’s a submission guy so it’s better that he have his wind for later in the match! It’s called strategy Jerry!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth now clearing his head as he gets back to a vertical base, Rally circling behind…

Andrew Fulton: “See?! Strategy, calm, calculated…

[Advancing on Goth as he gets to his feet, Rally goes deep into the old school playbook and hits the champion with a chop block that sends him back to the mat clutching at his right knee.]

Jeremy Tucker: “And it begins, Rally Jackson now stomping away at the right leg of the champion! Jackson has found his target and is about to go to work!”

[Gaining the leg, Jackson executes a spinning toe hold, looking to continue the damage to the knee and leg. Turn after turn, Jackson really puts torque into the hold before giving it up for a quick breather]

Andrew Fulton: “You’re damn right it’s time to go to work Jerry! Rally Jackson is a master at taking a limb and picking it apart! Watch the master at work!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Rally has made leglocks his thing this past few years, I have to give the devil his due. Rally Jackson might have the most dangerous submission move in all of SWAT with the Rio Squeal. He’s beaten many a competitor with that patented heel hook!”

Andrew Fulton: “Now you see the brilliance, too late Jerry!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Look, I’ve never said Jackson isn’t talented. It’s his tactics and frankly his laziness that get to me. Imagine a focused and determined Rally Jackson! Imagine a two hundred and twenty pound Rally Jackson, that would be scary!”

[In the ring, the three hundred pound Rally Jackson wipes sweat off his brow and proceeds to stomp away at the right leg of Goth as Vampira paces the outside of the ring like a caged tiger.]

Andrew Fulton: “The one in the ring is scary as is and Goth thinks he can’t be scared…let’s find out! Jackson is a bad bad man!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Again, the man is talented. I just wish he’d apply himself and get back in shape. Then he’d be nearly unstoppable!”

Andrew Fulton: “Have you ever considered that he doesn’t have to? Rally Jackson is a world class wrestler without having to starve himself…”

Jeremy Tucker: “I’m hardly suggesting he starve himself, just that he exercise moderation.”

Andrew Fulton: “Do Champions do things like everybody else? No! Sure, Rally Jackson could eat right and train hard, but he’s a god damn stallion and stallions just do things. They don’t train!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Kids, don’t listen to the man sitting next to me, he has no idea what he’s talking about. Big Irish whip by Rally Jackson sending Goth into the ropes…”

Andrew Fulton: “Why are you still not shutting up?!”

[Ducking a wild lariat attempt by Psychotic Goth, Rally rebounds off the ropes with Goth doing the same. Both men look to collide but Rally dives at the legs of Psychotic Goth feet first, tripped and controlling the damaged right leg of the champion.]

[Transitioning with the skill of a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu black belt, Rally has a deep heel hook within moments!]

Jeremy Tucker: “Rio Squeal! He’s got it! This could be it!”

Andrew Fulton: “Could be?! COULD BE?! This IS it! The black fairy tale ends here and now!”

[Goth screams in pain as Rally cranks on the hold, regaining title within his grasp. The SWAT faithful on their feet once again!]

Jeremy Tucker: “Goth writhing in pain, we’re near center ring he’s got a long way to go!”

Andrew Fulton: “It was a valiant effort Goth, just pack it in and hope for a rematch…ladies and gentlemen you’re new champ!”

Jeremy Tucker:”It’s not over yet! Psychotic Goth is scratching and clawing his way toward the ropes…inch by agonizing inch!”

Andrew Fulton: “Tap! Just tap!”

[Sensing the title slipping from her husband’s grasp, Vampira reaches out grabbing the extending arms of Psychotic Goth as he reaches for the ropes and pulls, helping the Champion reach the safety of the ropes. The crowd is split between cheers and boos as the ref notices and breaks the hold.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Not like this! Vampira getting involved here and possibly saving the title for her man!”

Andrew Fulton: “Possibly?! That little cosplay freak just alter history right before our very eyes! This is a robbery!”

Jeremy Tucker: “I hate to agree but Vampira might have just saved Goth’s Championship just now!”

Andrew Fulton:”Might have?! That little tramp just cost Rally Jackson the World Championship. There, I said it. She dresses like a tramp!”

[Ducking a looping haymaker by a frustrated Jackson as both men get to their feet, Goth gains a rear waist lock. Pushing into the ropes with a head of steam, Goth rolls back with the momentum of the ropes, rolling through and pinning Rally!]

…One!

……Two!!

[Goth reaches out and uses the ropes for leverage while the referee checks Rally’s shoulders for the fall!]

………Three!!!

Jeremy Tucker: “I have to say it, I love that, Goth just beat Jackson at his own game! He fought through a hard situation, used Vampira and the ropes and practically every trick in the book and he just stole one from Rally Jackson!”

Andrew Fulton: “I told you Goth was only out for number one! But you wouldn’t listen!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire! Goth has reminded us all that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to remain SWAT World Champion!”

Andrew Fulton: “I respect what he did…”

Jeremy Tucker: “You what?!”

Frank Salazar: “Your winner and STILL SWAT World Heavyweight Champion…Psychotic Goth!!

“Andrew Fulton: “I respect that Goth was willing to go further than Rally to pick up the win at all costs. He’s a greasy goth scumbag, but I respect the hustle!”

[“Welcome To Your Death" by Annihilator plays and Vampira runs into the ring with the championship to help Psychotic Goth to his feet to celebrate another successful title defense!]

Jeremy Tucker: “Well folks, we’re just about out of time but Psychotic Goth has managed to slide by Rally Jackson to remain Syndicate Wrestling And Tradition World Heavyweight Champion!”

Andrew Fulton: “Slide past? He stole one fair and square! As much as I hate to say it, respect to the current champion!”

Jeremy Tucker: “For Andrew Fulton and everyone here at SWAT…goodnight!! See you in Detroit”