Battleground #39 : Off The Hook! (Show)

[sc4r]

| ALWAYS |

The sky is clouded and slightly grey, the clouds further east even darker and heavier with rain. The air is sweet but heavy, any amount of sun during this day could turn a gentle, cool day into a terribly sticky, muggy one. As the clouds move about, the reveal the glory that is the skyline of Chicago. Willis Tower, Water Tower Place, St. Regis all reaching into the heavens as we stand atop this flat roofed building with a pair of lawn chairs set near the north eastern edge. A bottle of vodka sets between the two before a hand reaches down and snatches it up quickly. Behind us, the access door swings open, the clang of the metal door hitting the bricks is mildly startling. Willa stands in the doorway, her head tilted to the side. "Old man said you were up here.. didn't think you'd be day drinking though."

She steps past and takes a seat on the other lawn chair as Devon finishes a swig of the alcohol. "Kinda figured you'd be in a better mood." He just grins at her. "You've got another title match this week... what... what's going on?"

Smile still on his face, he pulls a small recorder from his pocket and hands it to Willa. "I got this the other day. Go head. Play it." Her face twists into confusion as she presses the button, her eyes filled with slight suspicion.

"My dearest Devon.." a light, airy feminine voice begins, smallest hint of a southern accent.

Willa drops the recorder onto the foot of the chair as she falls back, exasperated. "AH FUCK."

"If this message finds you, it means I have succumb to my illness and have departed this mortal coil. In these past few months, I have noticed and been following you and your return and am exceptionally proud of you, although, part of me does wonder why now, at this late of an hour do you choose to. But that choice is yours and yours alone, so I respect it. I always said, given the choice between you and I, it should have been you. It was always supposed to be you."

In a huff, Devon reaches over and grabs the recorder before whipping it against the wall, shattering the back upon impact and the rest as if falls to the floor.

"Is it just me or..." Willa begins.

"The Red Queen gets he last fucking words in, yet again." Devon says spitefully interrupting her. "I know what you're thinking. That was her version of 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed'. And yes, I know I have a title match against Reed Rothchild or whatever the fuck his over oiled name is. Not the first time I'd win a U.S. title, either. Same ol' story, same ol' song and dance. Goth's my endgame, not this fuckwad, but stepping stone or trampoline will be nice I suppose."

"I mean I win the the title, I'll defend it as I should. Fighting champion, that's always been my calling card, but like I said. Goth's endgame."

"You were serious then?" Willa asks, taking a swig of the vokda for herself.

"As a heart attack. That.. that pissed me off. Being that close. I mean I didn't even tap for fucks sakes. I passed out! I also didn't think that big bitch would lace me into a weird ass muta lock, but here we are."

He rips the bottle from Willa's hand and begins to chug as he falls back against the chair. "What," she begins "did she mean by it should've been you?"

"Actually, that part was straight forward. All the accolades, all the pomp and circumstance. It should've been me. I was the youngest of the group aside from you, but you stopped real early."

"Yea... well.."

"I know. There was a group of us that was going to be the legacy. Hers, mine, theirs, someone's. That... that was her endgame. Leaving a legacy behind. She always had this... delusion of grandeur wrestling was like royalty. It meant as much, if not more, of who you knew and who knew you as oppose to what you can do. She had a few different 'proteges' at one point., and even though I had a hand in training her, apparently at some point to the media here the student became the master. Or something, I don't know. Anyways, when I got back from Japan there was three of us, her, Jon and I. Then her and Jon fell apart and it was just us."

"And then you walked away.."

"And then I walked away." He nodded in agreeance as he looked out over the horizon of the skyline. "And she went on. And on. And on. She felt like she couldn't walk away if there was no one to continue the line. No one to pick it up and then I come back as she fades away and here we are, were some think.. I should've always been."

"Why you, though? Why not find someone, find a new trainee or something?"

"Nah. Everyone else was.. problematic. Didn't have the right attitude or treated this as a paycheck instead of a life, a lot of reason. It has to be me. Someone else would fuck it up."

| FIN |

[edwarddubin0604]

(The boiler room is dark and there is maniacal laughter resounding off the walls and chants in a Native-American dialect. The lights suddenly come on and Vampira and Psychotic Goth are seen. Psychotic goth's arms are raised as he continues to laugh maniacally and the snake is still wrapped around his shoulders.)

Psychotic Goth: "Pequeno Dinosaurio did you not seemy whole promo or the parts you and your associate Vanessa wanted you to see. Were you so concerned about her obsession with Osland that you didn't see me actually say I welcome your challenge. Did you not see that or your obsession got the best of your better sense."

(Psychotic Goth laughs louder.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now Devon D'Andre why are you in denial that you lost. You gave me an epic battle and came so close to
defeating 'The Serpent of SWAT' yet you blame nobody but yourself. Then you drown your sorrows and your demons in whiskey and drugs."

(He roars in a Native-American accent shaking his head.)

Psychotic Goth: "Too bad that has negatively effected your judgement but that is understandable since demons always effect your best judgement. Too bad and so unfortunate for you Devon D'Andre."

(Psychotic bellows in a Native-American accent.)

Psychotic Goth: "Yes Eddie D. I said I respected you and I didn't say you never earned your shots at championships. You are one of the toughest men in SWAT and you earned this opportunity to face me by winning The Royal Rumble. I also said I would accept the challenges of everyone didn't I."

(He roars like a beast.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now this rematch has been on my mind for quite a while since you defeated me. I've been more than ready to face you for quite sometime. I knew this time was coming and I knew we would meet again. A lot has changed since we first met. You joined The KGB and wasted your efforts to recruit Blaze Freya. You should have known that she would not have joined since she hates Joanne Cannelli."

(Psychotic Goth laughs demonically.)

Psychotic Goth: "Blaze has plenty of self respect for herself and she's someone who doesn't take orders from anyone. You should have known that Eddie D. Yet you completely forgot about that and failed to realize too late Blaze Freya wasn't KGB material."

(He continues to laugh demonically.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now ask yourself Eddie D. Why would I need Jonnie Valentine to cover for me since The Mad Dog Paul Soutter retook control of SWAT. Does that mean that you got favoritism. No because you
earned your chance at this championship. I earned my championship without Jonnie Valentine. So we both showed we earned our shots and now we shall see who earned this SWAT World Heavyweight Championship."

(Psychotic Goth roars like a demon.)

Psychotic Goth: "I walk alone Eddie D. I fight alone and I don't need stablemates to back me up or interfere in my matches.
I spread my darkness and I shall continue to spread my darkness and venom of my fangs to all those who oppose me. Look at the
effects it had on Rally, who used to be sane until he decided to begin spewing all these silly conspiracies. He started yelling and screaming madness and paranoia and was running around all over the place attempting to make people listen to him.
Yet nobody has taken him seriously and shall never ever take him seriously anymore."

(The serpent flicks it's tongue kissing Psychotic Goth.)

Psychotic Goth: "That's right, my pet. You see I shall be like this serpent. I shall be stalking and striking when the time comes at the right opportunities. I'm not going to be foolish like your opponents and I'm glad you won't be underestimating me either. That's exactly how I like it in a match Eddie D. That's exactly how I like it."

(Psychotic Goth roars.)

Psychotic Goth: "In a matter of moments that shall tick down and tick down and tick down until we meet in the ring. I shall once again lead my gothic hordes and I shall defend my kingdom along with my scepter from all who shall try to storm my castle walls. Those who try shall pay the price as my brutality is unleashed and my tortured soul demands sacrifice. My tortured soul shall be sated and nothing is going to stop me from doing so."

(He roars even louder.)

Psychotic Goth: "I shall e quite zealous in our match and I shall show no mercy towards you and I know you shall show none either which is how we both like it. At least we expect that much from each other and that's going to be good. It makes things so interesting in the match."

(Psychotic Goth lowers his head and raises his arms and flings his head back revealing his pale handsome goth like looks.)

Psychotic Goth: "Eddie D. I know you are going to be bringing your best and so shall I. I shall also be determined to retain my championship as you shall be wanting to take it from me. However, I am even more motivated since I want to even the score with you after you defeated me last year. I shall be determined to avenge my loss to you and I shall do so. I shall get my satisfaction and defeat you. Thus I have spoken and thus I shall make my prophecy come true."

(Psychotic Goth roars as he shoots his arms down and the room goes dark and he laughs as the scene slowly fades to black.)

[SWAT Team]

[The Elevators instrumental is heard pumping through the arena, which could only mean one thing. The 'King of TV' is about to make his way through the curtain. The subtle laugh in between beats of this southern playalstic track exemplifies the swag and outlook of 'The Unbelievable One'. Osland is accompanied to ringside by the 'Universal Sin Champion' Keith Williams. The duo collectively known as the Revenants have made some bold statements in recent weeks in regards to their plan to dominate the tag team ranks, while also continuing their respective single championship reigns as well.]

[As the duo walk forward to a chorus of boos, we notice Vanessa Martinez walking ten steps behind them with a clipboard in hand. Vanessa has agreed to help Osland make contact with some of the who's who in Vanessa's world with the hope of pushing his brand as far as possible. When Osland hits he ring, he rolls underneath the bottom rope and pops up immediately to begin shadow boxing. Keith Williams enters through the ropes, and begins to applaud Osland for his shadowboxing technique. Keith begins to stir the crowd, asking them to get on their feet to join him in the applause, but they refuse.]

[Vanessa walks over to Osland's corner and continues to take notes.]

Jeremy Tucker: "The SWAT Television Champion is here."

Andrew Fulton: 'Excuse You Jerry... The King of TV is here. Beautiful, simply amazing."

[Osland grabs a mic from the ring announcer, and addresses the crowd.]

Osland: "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the Osland 'King of TV' Championship Challenge."

[Osland bows to the crowd, as they serenade our champion with a chorus of boos. Keith Williams sports a smile that couldn't be brighter, as he looks on.]

Osland: "As many of you know, I've made it a personal goal of mine to elevate this championship to heights which they have yet to see. Heights, previous unimaginable by the peasants who came before me. With the help of my agent; Vanessa Martinez, we decided to display our reach and our drawing power within Hollywood Circles."

Andrew Fulton: "Hollywood Circles? Oh wow, sign me up! Only Osland would have these kinds of connections."

Jeremy Tucker: "Oh please. I'll believe it when I see it."

Osland: "Before we get this show on the road, I would like to take a moment to dedicate this performance to that special someone. You know who you are."

Andrew Fulton: "Did you hear that Jerry? I bet there are at least a dozen women that now believe this performance is dedicated to them. What a genius."

Jeremy Tucker: "He's probably dedicating it to his bromance - Keith Williams."

Andrew Fulton: "There is absolutely nothing wrong with two men showing their respect for one and other in public. Stop trying to make this about something it's not."

Jeremy Tucker: "These two are made for each other. Unbelievably Sleazy should be their team name. But then, they would probably take it as a compliment now wouldn't they?"

[Osland continues to put himself over.]

Osland: "Bring out the first sucker."

[The lights dim. We hear the theme song from Die Hard play throughout the arena. Could it be?]

Andrew Fulton: "It's Bruce Willis!!!"

[The man who resembles Bruce Willis walks out from behind the curtain. More like WUCE BILLIS. After a few moments, it's clear that this is an imposter and the Die Hard star is nowhere near the arena tonight.]

Osland: "Welcome to the Party, Pal! Step into my office Bruce!"

[The crowd is unhappy as they feel insulted by this display.]

Andrew Fulton: "This is brilliant. Osland has hand picked a hollywood action star to completely destroy!'

Jeremy Tucker: "It's not even the REAL Bruce Willis. This is absurd."

[Osland blindsides the amateur imposter from behind.]

Jeremy Tucker: "Oh like he needed any sort of extra advantage?"

[Osland rakes Willis' eyes along the top rope, causing him to scream in agony. Osland lets his opponent linger in the middle of the ring, rubbing his eyes. He hits the ropes and blasts him with the nastiest LARIAT you'll ever see. Wuce Billis is turned upside down and inside out. Osland goes for the cover, and Keith Williams slides into the ring to make the count.]

1.



2.



3!!!!


Jeremy Tucker: "This is disgusting."

[Osland rolls his opponent out of the ring, and let's him fall lifelessly on the concrete floor.]

Osland: "Yippy Ka Ya Mutha Fucka! Now you know what I'm talking' about Willis!"

[Osland breaks out into laughter and starts fist pumping after that ZINGER!]

Jeremy Tucker: "He's so stupid he doesn't realize that Willis line isn't from Bruce Willis."

Andrew Fulton: "Be quiet Jerry, I don't want to miss a moment of this."

[Osland is back on the mic.]

Osland: "1 down, 2 to go."

[Osland wipes his hands together in a dismissive gesture.]

#Keep Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'
#Hands up now hands down
#Back up Back up
#Tell me What you gonna do now

--

Andrew Fulton: "It's Fred Durst!! I forgot that chump ever existed."

Jeremy Tucker: "I thought this was for celebrities... Oh never mind, this is a new low for Osland."

Andrew Fulton: "This guy even has the red hat on backwards and that silly line from his lip to his chin. God the 90's were terrible for fashion. Chin straps, hoop earrings and baggy clothes."

[Osland and Williams exchange a belly laugh, as Fred Worst comes into the ring. The former limp bizkit front man is about to 'roll the dice' to see what his fortunes will be.]

Osland: "Roll on in here you schmuck."

[The music dies down, and the wannabe Fred Durst rolls into the ring.]

[Osland pretends to be afraid, before raking the poor man's eyes. Osland lifts him in the air and drops Fred Worst on his head with a backdrop driver. The fans are sickened, as the look-alike lays on the mat, not moving. The referee could count to a 100 right now, but Osland hasn't gone for the pinfall yet. He does the action like he's driving a car and ROLLIN' around the corners, which also further disgusts the fans. The only people who are loving this besides Osland is Keith Williams and Andrew Fulton. Vanessa Martinez is looking mildly embarrassed that she went along with this idea.]

[Osland eventually mercifully pins Fred Worst, and then tosses him over the top rope like a bag of trash.]

Osland: "Keep on rollin' outta my ring Fred. This is My Way or the Highway! Also, North America wants our fifteen minutes back, you clown."

[The crowd boos. A few tough guys in the front row pretend to hope the guard rail and Osland begs them to do so.]

Osland: "Last but not least, my favourite and yours...."

[...]

Osland: "Emilio Estevez! EMILLIIIOOOOO!"

Andrew Fulton: "Oh this is brilliant. Remember Osland said he was going to star in the Mighty Ducks and A Night at the Roxbury 2 alongside of Estevez? Let's see what kind of chemistry these two have on screen."

Jeremy Tucker: "Will you stop."

[Out walks a Charlie Sheen look alike.]

[Osland is furious. He looks down at Vanessa and asks what in the heck is going on?]

Osland: "The whole idea was for it to be Emilio Estevez not his drug addict brother! What gives?"

[Vanessa shrugged her shoulders, confused.]

[Osland bolted from the ring and speared the Charlie Sheen look-alike out of his boots as he approached the ring. Osland then locked on his cattle mutilation submission and the area watched and listened as this poor look-alike screamed in pain for three seconds, before passing out. Osland relinquished the hold, before laying one last stomp to the back of the man's head.]

Osland: "Emilio Estevez where are you? Are you running scared? I will destroy you Gordon Bombay."

Andrew Fulton: "This is brilliant. Now Emilio must come out of hiding to avenge his brother's defeat!"

Jeremy Tucker: "You can't be serious. I doubt Osland is even set to play any of these movie roles he's auditioning for."

Osland: "Have you people call my people Estevez, or you're not going to like the consequences! Now hit my music!"

[Elevators, ME and You by Outkast pumps through the arena once again, as Osland starts to head to the back. Keith Williams and Vanessa Martinez are in tow as well. Osland takes a moment to bow to the crowd at the top of the stage before exiting the ring area.]

[Union Jack]

In a backstage corridor, Union Jack awaits the arrival of his tag partner and friend, Pequeño Dinosaurio. Lil MC sits nearby on a shipping crate absentmindedly swinging his legs as the strangely excited Brit paces backward and forwards in front of the restricted access entrance which all talent had been directed to use when arriving at the arena.

“This is amazing!” Jack blurts with a beaming smile on his face. “The best night since I arrived here! I've been waiting for this for so long Lil! So, so, SO long!”

Jack paused again in front of the doors and looked out to the parking-lot. “Come on Dino... Where the hell are ya?! The car's right bloody there! ” Jack grunted in frustration and gestured vaguely toward the rows of hire car's the talent had used. “You sure he wasn't in his room?”

Lil' MC shook his head, refusing to vocalist a response and Jack grunted again before checking his phone.

“I swear to god, he better not fuck this up for us! Still no pissing reply.” Jack shook his head and looked away from his phone. “Ok. Let's go check the locker-room again. Maybe they're back.”

Lil' hopped down from the crate and landed with a surprising grace, considering his size and attire. The ding-a-ling of the little rubber penis hanging from the front of his bear costume providing a surreal punchline for his landing. The two of them made their way along the corridors, Jack periodically checking his phone and grunting in frustration every time he failed to find what he had been looking for. Finally they arrived at the Bear-O-Dactyl locker-room and pushed the door open. Vanessa Martinez turned quickly toward the door and was visibly disappointed by the sight of Jack.

“Is Dinosaurio with you?” Her inquiry was quick and direct, even for her. “I've not seen him since the hotel.”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Jack replied as he walked across the room and dropped heavily on a couch “When I got to the room it was empty and that the car was missing, figured you fuckers left us to go doggin or something.”

“Ugh!” Vanessa's distasteful grunt was mirrored as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You could have just said you hadn't seen him you know? I apologize for leaving you all, I had some important business to attend.”

“Not a problem sweetheart.” Jack grinned “After all, it aint like that cunt's jockstrap's gonna talc itself, is it?! Speaking of, how is Osland? He keeping Dino's title polished and the leather supple I hope?! Our boy's gonna be needing that belt back pretty soon.”

“Don't start, Jack” Vanessa sighed in exasperation. “It's already been a long day and I just don’t have the energy.”

“Yeah, long's one word for it... I caught the TV Title Challenge.” Jack's sarcastic tone is biting, and Vanessa's face instantly flushes with embarrassment. “So... Does that count as three defenses? You must be proud.”

“Jack just drop it! This really is none of your busin...”

Vanessa stops dead mid sentence as Dinosaurio allows the locker-room door to swing shut behind him, the slam announcing his arrival. “How about me, is it my business?” Dinosaurio's tone was uncharacteristically dry. He set his bag on a chair beside the door.

“It's about fucking time you showed up!” Jack barked climbing out of his seat “I've been calling you for the past hour!”

“Apologies, mi amigo. I went for a walk and got a little lost.” Dinosaurio held up head phone to show the dead screen. “...then my phone died.” Dinosaurio cast his eyes toward Vanessa but continued to address Jack as he asked “Have I missed anything good tonight?” mockingly, almost daring their agent to bite.

“Have you ever!” Jack laughed and held his phone out toward his friend. “You know that little sort, Linda? She sent me a text earlier... Said we are having a threesome with her tonight! Can you believe that? I fucking love America!”

“What?!” Dinosaurio bulked in shock as his attention snapped back toward his friend. Vanessa stepped forward, momentarily stunned by the Brit's revelation.

“Jack... I'm pretty sure you've misread the situation.” Vanessa tried to calmly reassure Jack but was immediately cut off.

“No way. Look...” Jack turned and tossed the phone toward Vanessa, who fumbled and almost droped it in her surprise “You read it for yourself! 'Me, Dinosaurio and you in a threesome tonight.' it's right there!”

Vanessa stares at the phone for a moment or two, then looks past Jack to Dinosaurio and shakes her head in clear disappointment.

“Jack, it says Trio's... not threesome.” Vanessa holds the phone out in an attempt to return it. “Linda is your tag team partner tonight.”

“Aye?” Jack looks from Vanessa, to Dinosaurio and back again. “Are you sure? I'm positive she said a threesome!”

“It's true, mi amigo.” Dinosaurio chuckled “Tonight we are in a Six Man Tornado Tag match, Linda is our third.”

“Ah Bollox!” Jack slumps back in his seat and shakes his head. “I wondered why she didn't reply to those dick pics.”

“Dick pics?!” Vanessa gasps and Dinosaurio barks laughter. “What are you talking about Jack?!”

Quickly, Vanessa again starts looking at Jack's phone, this time frantically scrolling through whatever she is looking at, the look of horror becoming increasingly more urgent the longer she spends looking.

“Jack, you didn't even say anything after the original message; you just immediately started sending photos... 65 photos; Dios mío!” Vanessa raises her head from the phone, utter shock washed across her face. “Jack... Why does this photo have a brown filter and a little sombrero?!”

“Ah well, ya see...” Jack shrugs “I didn't actually have a photo of Dino's-Monster, and he wasn't answering his phone! Well, I didn't want him to be left out, so I just kinda winged it.”

A moments silence passes between the two of them as subdued laughter comes from Dino and Lil' MC who are struggling to contain their laughter in the corner of the room..

“Jack do you realize it's going to take me all night to straighten this mess out?!” Vanessa throws the phone back at Jack before storming out of the locker-room. Grinning, Jack turns toward Dinosaurio.

“Did you see how long she spent staring at those pictures? I told ya she wanted me!” Jack winks and the three men burst into laughter.

[thejerseydevildiva]

The scene opens on the Little Caesar's arena in Detroit. The crowd had already gathered for the night and the show had begun. The smells from the food vendors drifted on the air, as the sound of the crowd fills the arena, along with the music from the loud speakers that could be found. The camera moves up to one of the private boxes that over looked the arena. We see Joanne sitting in front of the large window that over looked the arena as knock comes to the door.

Joanne: Come in!

The Founder Mad Dog Paul Soutter walks in and comes face to face with Joanne. The look eye to eye and then embrace in a hug.

Soutter : (a relieved sigh) It’s good to be home.

Joanne : It’s good to have you back. No hard feelings about last year, that was just business.

Soutter : No. I get it. You guys were right. I had become weak. I had become side tracked with trying to keep the whole fed happy and lost focus on what was important. The Bandits.

Joanne : It doesn't take much for one to lose focus.... Trust me I've done it more than once, but when you realize where you meant to be... It feels good to be home....

She smiles as she motions for him to sit beside her.

Soutter : Was great to see you in the Hall of Fame. Congrats.

Joanne : Thank you. But then again, it wasn't really unexpected was it?

Soutter : It was a no brainer. Big match for you tonight against Jack, Dino and …. Linda.

Joanne : Please... Do you think I'm really worried about them? I've destroyed Linda before and these other two... Who in the hell are they? But... It makes me wonder how did Linda take it? I mean she couldn't be to happy about you comin' home to us...

Soutter : Well … she isn’t too thrilled. She will come around though.

Joanne : Are you goin' to make sure we have some favors goin' into this match start or maybe after it starts? I mean it would play in your family's favor if nothin' else...

She smirks as she tuns to face the action in the arena.

Joanne: So what is your plan tonight against Blaze? I mean after what I did to her last week you think she would learn that the Bandits are not people you fuck around with...

Soutter : She has a big gob that one, and I’m gonna gladly shut it for her.

Joanne : Tables match?

Soutter : Yup! And she is gonna GET WOOD! See Rios won the Amazons belt, you have had her number since returning and must be right in line for a shot at the belt.

Joanne : She has no idea what she has done. I mean Rio's doesn't know when to stop and when I get the chance to put her in her place it'll be my choice and in a match that she won't like. I will destroy her. Besides she has somethin' that belongs to me...

Soutter : It’s a busy time. Anzac Cup after here, You and Eddie! What a team. Then, the Bandits go to Call to Arms and show the XHF who the true force and power is on the network.

Joanne : Don't worry I plan to get all the way to the end with Eddie at my side. I mean I've come close a couple of times but this time, The KGB is goin' all the way to the end and take what is rightfully ours!

Her eyes seem to glow a bright red before they turn back to their normal color.

Soutter : (shudders a tiny bit) On that note. I gotta run. Bandits forever. Forever Bandits.

Joanne : Bandits forever, Forever Bandits.

Paul walks out the door leaving Joanne along once again. She smirks as she picks up a glass filled with dark liquid. She takes a sip and leans back in the plus seat.

Joanne: Family... It's always somethin' that you can count on. We leave and come back and no matter what we will always remain family. Mistakes were made, but now they are rectified and Soutter is back in the fold where he belongs. Blaze learned a lesson the hard way and tonight she's goin' learn it again. But I digress... Tonight I stand with my brothers against a hodge podge of a team. Lets see Linda you and I have faced off more than once and I know it's been a while but I remember your move, the mistakes and flaws that you have and trust me I will use that to my full advantage.  I know you'll be gunnin' for me if nothin' else but I'm afraid that I'm not goin' to go down that easy. You know that, but do your team mates?

A sly smile appears on her dark lips as she stares down at the arena.

Joanne: Jack, Dino... I'm not goin' to waste a lot of time on either one of you. I don't know who you are and don't really give a damn about you. All I know is that from I have seen of you two you have some power, and can work together... yippie. But we are the KGB and that means we are the best of the best. You are goin' to be destroyed when all is said and done. There will be nothin' left of either one of you and once again the Bandits will hold all of the cards. See you soon and good luck you're goin' to need it.

She laughs as she gets to her feet and heads out into the hallway as the scene fades to black.

[sc4r]

| THE PLAN |

Backstage once more as we roam through the hallways and corridors of The Little Caesar's Arena. Stagehands and security buzz around, publicists and lawyers having impromptu meetings in the corners. In one long, open corridor a SWAT banner hangs on the wall, a place for usually reserved for photoshoots with newly signed talent and crowned champions. Tonight, however, no one is standing in front of it but Devon is... sitting in front of it? His jacket resting across his lap, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded in his lap, his vape held tightly in his left hand. His face turned away from us, he takes a quick puff of the vape and lets the cloud out with a deep sigh.

"It's not denial, Goth. It's anger. It's disbelief. It's embarrassment. It's a lot of things, but denial isn't one of them. It's a river in Egypt and that's about it. I know I pushed you to your limit. I'm angry I didn't push further. I'm in disbelief that you had me locked up in something I couldn't get out of. I'm embarrassed that I actually fucking tapped." He turns towards the camera and smiles. "I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim. And why you think I'd waste whiskey on them?"

He holds his vape up to the camera, "and nicotine's my only drug so... in this business, I'm doin pretty fucking good. My demon's don't effect my judgement, they... are... my judgement. This.. legacy I have to live up to. I really am the only one left now. I truly am the last of a dying breed. They just don't make'em like they used to anymore I guess. For some of us this wasn't, and isn't a job or a paycheck. It's... life. It's... everything. Sleezy boy likes to think it's a stepping stone to the Valley or something. I don't fucking now." He looks at the camera, his eyes narrow and slowly filling with anger. "And I'm starting not to fucking care. Guy's like him are a.. stain on this place and this business. I'm sure he knows that, I'm sure he doesn't fucking care either. Doesn't bother me. Honestly the match doesn't really bother me. I win, cool another US title to the collection, won't be the first one. And yes, I'll rename it the United States Title. Why? Because I'm a fucking sucker for the classics and tradition. If I don't? I move on and continue my path back to Gothy."

Another hit from the vape, another cloud blown into the air. "Losing isn't a setback. A detour at most, but if I'm honest, I don't plan on losing."

| FIN |

[Lucky Linda]

”Linda!” exclaims Katie Moss excitedly greeting her. “Thanks for joining me here tonight!”

“Always a pleasure Katie.” Linda replies fondly. She is wearing her Fight the Power t shirt.

“I notice the t shirt Linda.” States Katie. “Is this a reference to Paul re-joining the Bandits?”

“I wouldn’t say that Katie.” Smiles Linda. “Got to get the merch out there on the screen for my great fans at home to see and buy.”

“It’s just that … since last show when Paul usurped Jonnie Valentine, well, we haven’t heard anything from you and the world wants to know where you stand on all this?”

“Where I stand?” questions Linda.

“Yes.” Katie is going into Oprah mode. “We need an answer!”

“I stand where I have always stood.” Replies Linda with fire and glares at Katie. “I stand where I always WILL stand!”

“But … where is that?” asks Katie again.

“I have always Katie.” Linda looks the camera dead in the eye “ALWAYS stood for what is RIGHT! Why would now be any different? You think because Paul has done something that I will lose my marbles and just blindly follow him over to them”

“Well, no …” stammers Katie.

“What is it that you think then?” asks Linda.

“I … I don’t think anything.” Katie replies. “I want to know what YOU think.” She is getting it back. “I want to know what YOU will do now Paul has done this. Do you stand by him? Do you support him?”

“I most certainly DO!” replies Linda, no hesitation. Then, there is a long hesitation.

“So?’ evaluating the answer “You support him re-joining the KGB and stabbing Jonnie Valentine in the back?”

“I support and stand by him in anything and everything he does.” Replies Linda. She then pauses. “That doesn’t mean I agree with it. That doesn’t mean I will now run around swerving folks left and right.” Linda smiles. “That simply means I support him in all he does.”

“So … you are also joining the Bandits?” asks Katie.

“HELL NO!” Linda is outraged “I am not some sheep to go somewhere simply because another has.”

“Ok.” Katie is baffled. “You will be teaming with him next week in the Anzac Cup?”

“Sadly. I will not” states Linda, dropping a bombshell. “I may support the man, but I can not associate myself with that crew, not now, not ever. I will be looking for a NEW partner for next weeks tourney. And I assure you, once I find them, we will go one step closer than last years 2nd place with Radu Matei.”

“Interesting.” Trying to work it out. “So, you continue to stand for who you are and while supporting Paul in anything he does, you will not associate with him or the KGB in anyway???”

“Exactly.” Linda grins. “Who ever said us gals were hard to understand?”

Katie chuckles at the levity, relieved to have not upset Linda as she had feared. “Tonight is an interesting battle, considering what we just went over. You are teaming with Jack and Pequeno against Armand, Frostbite and Joanne Canelli.”

“Quite the recipe for fun that is.” Linda flicks her hair. “KGB! You have always been slime!” You always will be slime! Tonight, I will do my part and I will bring all that I have to the ring, just like I do each and every match I have.”

“My partners” continues Linda “I thought they may be men I could forge a bond with and fight the good fight with, but alas, it seems they are a couple of juvenile miscreants who think it is ok and fair to send me the most vulgar and disgusting pictures I have seen in the last week.”

“Week?” asks Katie?

“We work in a federation with Rally Jackson Katie. “These pics while they are most certainly crude and unwanted, are far from the first of its kind I have seen” Linda sighs. “Only in wrestling … and social media.”

“This is an outrage!” declares Katie. “We should do something!”

“Holster that pistol there cowgirl!” Linda calms Katie “We don’t get that offended that easily! The KGB would though, if they saw what Jack sent to Pauls main squeeze.” Linda frowns “That wouldn’t help my cause any now though would it. I want to win!”

“So KGB!” Linda continues “You need to ask yourself a question. Do you feel lucky? Well? Do ya? Punks?”

[frostbite]

We catch up with Frostbite has he has a Gatorade in his left hand as he is taking a few sips, we believe it might be grape flavor because well the drink is the color purple. As he continues to take a few more sips as it appears that he is working up quite the thirst. He stops somewhere backstage as he is leaning up against a wall as he places his Gatorade on the floor as he turns his front side to the wall as he is doing some stretches out those joints because of the big six match later on tonight that he is has with his brothers in arms, the KGB. He picks up his Gatorade as he looks to his left as he sees a familiar face it is none other than Bruno. The big man stops to say a few words to him but we can tell what they are saying. Frostbite nods his head at the big man, as the two shake hands as Bruno continues on his merry way no doubt to take care of KGB business. As Frostbite who is still not in ring gear still in his blue jeans and red shirt, continues his walk around the backstage area, as he is approached by a couple of hands as he just looks at them with an intense look in his blue eyes as the young lady and young gentleman move right along there way they certainly want no part of Frostbite he just might set them on fire who knows. As he continues his journey, he makes a sharp right turn, as it appears he might be heading toward the locker room. He finally reaches his destination, as he is right on front of a tan door with his nameplate written in icy blue letters. Certainly it helps when you know the boss, but before he reaches for the door knob.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh........

Ahhhhhhhh......

Yes Baby......

Frostbite intense look on his face now turns into a look of confusing. He opens the door as he looks around the locker room trying to discover where is the noise is coming from.

Yes.....

Yes.....

As that is just blasting out all over the locker room. Frostbite races around the locker room trying to find out just where that is coming from. He gets to the back of the locker room where we see a brown leather chair, that one that he bought sometime ago for his love or his phone whatever you would like to call it. However his blue eyes get veey wide as he sees Texas Pete rocking back and forth in that chair.

More baby more.....

Frostbite sees Texas Pete in the chair, with his baby in his hands. He races over as he looks over his left shoulder as his blue eyes are in a state of shock as he sees that Texas Pete is watching Porn on his phone. Frostbite reaches over his shoulder as he quickly grabs the phone out of his hands. He grabs Texas Pete by the back of his neck as pulls him up. Frostbite is enraged as he tosses Texas Pete up against some nearby lockers.

Frostbite.. What in the hell are you doing? I have you one simple task to keep an eye on my love and you are sitting in that chair and watching porn with my love.

He bounces Texas Pete head off the lockers.

Frostbite.. How in the hell could you corrupt my love like this. My woman is way above this sleaze you are showing her.

He turns to his phone while still having a fight grip around Texas Pete neck. As if he is talking to the phone.

Frostbite.. Why My love do you allow this man to corrupt you like this? Why do you allow this man to do what they do to you. That do not care about you like I do. Do they give you a limo? No they do not. I have bought you nice things and you keep treating me like trash, but instead you like someone like this guy treat you like a whore. You are watching porn with this guy.

Frostbite reaches into his pocket as he pulls out a lighter as he puts almost right to Texxas Pete right eye ball. He flicks it on as the man is in fear for his life.

Frostbite.. I am about finish the damn job right now. I do not care about supporting your five kids. They can do better than you anyway. What in the hell would your wife if you have one think about this. You are cheating on her with my woman.

Frostbite takes Texas Pete and tosses his right across the locker room still with his phone in his hand. He walks over to Texas Pete as he takes the lighter as he had it right up against his clothing, but he stops as he looks toward his phone as if it saying something to him.

Frostbite.. Why in the hell would you want me to spare him. You are cheating on me with him. You have been cheating on me with a lot of men. I love you, how hard is that to understand. I have done things for you. Everything you have asked I have did it all for love and you can not show me that in return. Maybe, I do not need you anymore.

He continues to look at the phone as if it still saying something to him.

Frostbite.. You are begging me forgiveness. Honey,all I am asking his for your love and understanding. I will take care you for as we both shall live. Just please stop seeding these other men. Allow me to be your one and only.

He flicks off the lighter, as he looks down at Texas Pete on the floor, and then looks back at his phone.

Frostbite.. When can not set him on fire.

He drops his head.

Frostbite.. I know his sorry ass can not wrestle for a few months because of what I did to him. It isn't like this guy was a great wrestler in the first place. I know I have give him some type of job, to help support his rugrats. But he can't do a simple job and protect you while I am off taking care of business.

He continues to look at his phone, and then at Texas Pete on the floor.

Frostbite.. Get your ass up.

He does so as he gathers himself.

Frostbite.. Do you damn job. Do not do anything with my love. Just watch her.

He looks back at his phone.

Frostbite.. And if I catch him doing something wrong or looking at you the wrong way then I will set him on fire.

He puts the phone in his hand.

Frostbite.. Since I can not burn you tonight. I guess I get to burn three other souls this evening.

He looks at Texas Pete.

Frostbite.. Maybe it was your lucky day after all.

He shakes his head.

Frostbite.. Now get the hell out of the locker room, so I can prepare for my match. It is another drop in the bucket for the KGB. And by the way, Pete.

A wicked smile comes across his lips.

Frostbite.. Take care of my woman or there will be a fourth victim tonight.

Texas Pete leave with Frostbite baby, as the scene fades out.

[Union Jack]

“Look, all I'm saying is I don't see what the big deal is!” Jack's words hung in the air of the Bear-O-Dactyl locker-room as anger boiled over on the face of Vanessa Martinez. “It was a simple misunderstanding, that's all!”

Jack is sat on a bench, leaning forward and tying his ring boots as he puts in the last minute preparations to ensure he is match ready when the times comes. Vanessa meanwhile is pacing around anxiously.

“That's all?!” Vanessa's tone was biting and her eyes burning with hatred. “I've tried to call her three times! She wont pick up the phone!”

“So just leave a message!” Jack answered dismissively.

“Leave a.... UGH!” Vanessa's arms flapped in frustration. Even Oxford Osland wasn't this infuriating and insensitive. She grabbed a handful of crumpled paper, covered in frantic scribbles and waved it angrily in the direction of the British Lucha. “And say what exactly, huh Jack?! I've been trying to figure out what I should say since your revelation earlier and nothing comes to mind! You'll be all over the dirt sheets come morning and I see no way I can prevent that from happening!”

“You're making mountains out of mole hills, love.” Jack says with a shake of his head. “I'll make the call if you cant.”

“You?! HA!” Vanessa shakes her head while pulling her phone from her pocket. “You know what Jack?! You go right ahead! You don't think I will let you, do you? Well joke is on you... here!”

Vanessa finishes dialing and holds the ringing phone out to Jack, just out of his reach as though wanting the Brit to bulk at her challenge. Jack smiles pleasantly, leans enough that the phone is within reach and takes it from his reluctant Agent. Vanessa hesitates, considering snatching the phone back, but it's suddenly, too late...

“Hi Linda, it's me Jack. Listen, I'm calling to apologize after sending those photos earlier... Mainly because Vanessa is in a tail spin and being a real bitch about the whole situation. You should see her, she's sweating like Michael Jackson at a pre-school. Or Garry Glitter at a Pre-School. Or Rolf Harris at a Pre School. Or Jeffrey Epstine at a Pre-School. Or Prince Andrew at a Pre-School.... Jesus, have you ever noticed how many famous peados there actually are?”

“Jack!” Vanessa hisses his name, momentarily drawing his attention.

“Oh eh, sorry... Bad analogy.” Jack holds up his hand in a calming gesture. “She's sweating like George Floyd at a Grocery St...”

“Jack!”[/i] Vanessa's voice takes on a more urgent tone.

“Sorry, too soon?” Jack smirks. Suddenly a block of writing appears on the screen.

Disclaimer:- The views and opinions expressed within this promo are those of Union Jack, and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of SWAT or the XHF Network.
Any content provided by our Independent Contractors are of their opinion and are not intended to malign any religion,
ethnic group, club, organization, company, individual or anyone or anything.

“Anyway; I am sorry... But if I'm honest, I don’t really see what the big deal is. For example, If you were to send me 65 pictures of your growler, I wouldn't be upset at all... Quite frankly I'd be choking the chicken until his poor little neck broke; if you get what I mean.”

“JACK!”[/i] The sudden urgent snap in Vanessa's voice makes Jack visibly jump.

“Sorry.. Sorry! But listen, I hope we can get past this... Whatever else is going on, I think we can both agree those cunts in the KGB need a solid arse-kicking and other than Me and Dino, it seems like you're the only other person here with the bollox to do something about 'em!”

“That's enough Jack!” Vanessa hisses and tries to grab the phone away from him. “Please!”

“So... now we're all friends again, I was wondering if you could settle a bet for me? See, Dino and I were talking earlier and he thinks you're called 'Lucky Linda' because you're Irish, but I said that's racial stereotyping which has no place in the current global climate and that you're actually called Lucky because you've had your tubes tied so that the boy's can leave it i..”

A horrified Vanessa screams and pounces onto Jack, toppling him off of the bench and spilling him into the cameraman. The three crumple to the locker-room floor, reducing the feed to a shambolic mess before cutting to static. The feed switches back to the ringside area where Andrew Fulton and Jeremy Tucker are sat behind their commentary booth, their mouths agape in shock.

“Jesus Christ.” Andrew Fulton mutters, utterly lost for words.

“I... I uh... I... Jeremy Tucker stumbles “I honestly don't know what we just saw.”

“How the hell do we recover from that?!” Andrew Fulton asks and suddenly bursts into laughter.

[Jonnie Valentine]

You are watching The Blessed Be Network. At 6:00, it's The Light Side of the Ring, where we look at professional wrestlers who became born again, and the storylines they turned down as a result. Then at 7:00, it's Jeopardy, Home Schooled Edition!  Then at 8:00, it's the BBN Movie of the Week, David and His Eight Wives, a romantic comedy about the biblical prophet and the madcap ways he kept 8 women happy at once! 

Mrs. David #4: Dave, are you ready for our big date tonight? 

Mrs. David #7: (folds her arms) But you said you were going to take me to the stoning!  

Mrs. David #2: Don't forget we have my parents coming over tonight. 

David: (looks at the camera) Here we go again! 

But coming up next is Comfort From the Storm, with The Reverend Cornelius Marsh. 

(Whimsical organ music plays as the camera fades to Reverend Cornelius Marsh seated at a talk show desk. Seated to his right is a pink haired middle aged woman petting her white pekingese dog. Marsh has his hair slicked back and a honey sweet Southern voice)

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: Hello friends, and welcome to Comfort from the Storm. I am the Reverend Cornelius Marsh.

Nancy: (waves with both hands) And I'm Nancy. And this here is Chloe! (makes the dog wave) 

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: Mmm. (stares at dog in disgust) Anyway, I am absolutely tickled about The Hellhounds next meal in Detroit. Rally Jackson and his masked
sidekick, El Combatilorian. 

Nancy: That poor feller in the children's costume seemed scared, Rev. You know what I do when I'm scared, Rev? I sing myself a little song. (sings country song she made up) 
"Now don't be scared Nancy, it's just a raccoon
That ain't a spaceship, it's just the dang moon..."

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: Thank you, Nancy...we love your singing, don't we friends? But this isn't about Nancy's made up songs, that we cherish so dearly. This is about a long overdue sinner who's long been on our list. 

Nancy: Bill Gates?

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: I wish. No, still Rally Jackson. Once a Tigerheart, now he calls himself "The Golden God". Already on your way to Hades for the sin of pre-martial sex, and you just had to add worshiping false idols on your way out, didn't you? I've had my eye on your for quite a while, let's just say I've had a place on my wall for your head. 

Nancy: Is it next to your picture with Trump or the one next to your picture with Jenny McCarthy?

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: Next to Jenny, obviously, Nancy. I tossed the Trump one. I don't associate with losers. I would give El Combatilorian the same advice. But it's already signed, sealed, and delivered and thus your fate as well, my masked friend. 

Nancy: Poor dear. 

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: Those that lie with dogs get fleas, Nancy. But it won't be fleas, it will be meat thermometers, cheese graters, and probably a frozen dinner or two. 

Nancy: I like the Salisbury Steak with the gravy. Or the Salisbury Steak with the gravy they call meatloaf. Or the Salisbury Steak with the gravy they call brisket. They go good with a glass of wine and a good cry. 

Reverend Cornelius Marsh: They sure do. The tears will be flowing freely in Motown, Nancy. Down Rally's chubby cheeks, and whatever passes for eyeholes in El Combatilorian's mask. Rally won't have to worry about banning children's books when he'll need them to relearn how to read after an errant chair shot from Cerberus. He won't have to worry about gender assignments when Psycho takes a golf club to his genitals. And The Hellhounds will go on to win the Anzac Cup. It will all work out so nicely.
 
Nancy: That would be lovely. 

(Organ music plays as the lights dim and the camera pulls back)

This was Comfort From The Storm. Coming up next, we chronicle 10 brave anti-maskers that died of covid to bring attention to their cause, that it wasn't real.  

[SWAT Team]

Frank Salazar: The following contest is a TABLES MATCH! In order to win, you must put your opponent through a table. Introducing first from Blackpool, England... 5'6" and weighing 125 pounds... THE BLACKPOOL BOMBSHELL... BBBBBBBBLLLLLAAAAAZZZZZZEEEEEEEEE FREEEEEEEEEEEEEE-YYYYYYAAAAAAAAAA!!!

The arena darkens and fans erupt into loud cheers as "Collapsing" by Demon Hunter blasts through the speakers. Red, pink and purple lights flicker on and off in rapid succession creating a beautiful strobe effect over the stage as none other than the Blackpool Bombshell herself, Blaze Freya comes out from behind the curtain, walking backwards onto the stage with a charismatic strut. Her black hood covers her lowered head until she spins around triggering the lights to brighten to reveal her gorgeous face as she removes the hood, headbanging with the fans a bit.

She nods in approval hearing the roar of the crowd, feeding off of their excitement then rolls her shoulders a few times, sprinting down the ramp and sliding into the center of the ring, humping it briefly. Blaze then leans back on her knees running her fingers through her long black hair, flirtatiously winking at the nearest camera before standing up to her feet and walking back to her corner to await her opponent with a determined look on her face.

’Peel their Caps Back’ Ice T blares though the arena as the Bandit Mobile makes its way down the ramp way, Soutter and Bruno standing in the back. It drives down to ringside and they make their way into the ring.

Frank Salazar: Hailing from Melbourne, Australia. Standing in at 6'2" and weighing 364 pounds... Representing The KGB... THE FOUNDER... MAAAAAADDDDDDDDD DDDDDDOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGG PAAAAAAUUUUULLLLLLL SSSSSSSOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTT-TTTTTEEEEEEERRRRRRRRER!!!

Jeremy Tucker: What a sight for sore eyes. How long has it been since we've seen that atrocity?

Andrew Fulton: Jerry, I don't know what you're talking about. This is fabulous!

Jeremy Tucker: There's a mess of tables at ringside. Some have their legs extended and are set up, others have been propped against the barricade.

Andrew Fulton: What were you expecting? It's a tables match!

Jeremy Tucker: Phil Weston won't have to do much during this match except stay out of the way and call it when one of the competitors is tossed through a table.

Andrew Fulton: He's lucky to have a job! The guy's a goof, he wears a black and white striped tracksuit!

Jeremy Tucker: You have to admit it is a creative look for a referee.

Andrew Fulton: It's ghastly!

Jeremy Tucker: ENZUIGIRI!!!

Andrew Fulton: Not waiting for her opponent to act first, Freya blasts Soutter in the face with that move!

Jeremy Tucker: European Uppercut! European Uppercut! European Uppercut! When will it end?

Andrew Fulton: Blaze bounces off the ropes and comes at the Founder! Ouch, an open hand chop to the chest stopped that!

Jeremy Tucker: Staggered, Freya looks up at the smirking Paul Soutter as he connects with another chop directly to the chest! Down to a knee, Mad Dog laughs at Freya as he winds up to strike her!

The crowd screams, "FINISH HIM!"

Andrew Fulton: UPPERCUT TO THE BALLS!! HIS POOR SOUTTER JEWELS!! DOES SHE HAVE NO HONOR?!

Jeremy Tucker: Blaze Freya throws all of her weight behind an uppercut that connects and pulverizes the testes of the Founder!

Andrew Fulton: Wheezing, devoured by intense pain, Mad Dog is left to hold his damaged danglies as Freya slides under the bottom rope to the outside! Grabbing a table, the Blackpool Bombshell knocks out the legs and pulls it over to the ring, positioning it on the apron before pushing it inside.

Jeremy Tucker: Back in the ring, Freya positions the table in a corner and takes a bit too long to do so as Soutter lunges from behind, taking her down to the mat with a vicious clothesline!

Andrew Fulton: Angry, still rubbing his sore privates, Paul takes it out on the table and stomps a hole through it! Breaking off a chunk of the shattered piece of furniture, Soutter sits on top of Freya and rakes the sharp table fragment across her forehead!

Jeremy Tucker: The sadistic bastard is yelling that this is payback for earlier! Tossing aside the blood stained table shard, Soutter switches to closed fist punches to open up the already huge gash on Freya's head!

Andrew Fulton: There's so much blood already. Speaking of gash...

Jeremy Tucker: Fulton, don't.

Andrew Fulton: I was just going to say...

Jeremy Tucker: No.

Andrew Fulton: Whatever! The Founder picks Blaze up and promptly DDTs her! Keeping his arm wrapped around the back of her head, Soutter grinds Freya's face into the mat for added insult leaving behind a gruesome, bloody smear!

Jeremy Tucker: Getting to his feet, Mad Dog extends his elbow and falls onto the back of Blaze's head with a standing elbow drop! Repeating this several times, Paul huffs and resorts to stomping Freya!

Andrew Fulton: Does Soutter think she's a mudhole??!!

Jeremy Tucker: Satisfied with what he's done, the Founder exits the ring and proceeds to grab the first table he can find, snapping the legs back into place and sliding it under the bottom rope. Wanting more hardware, Soutter seeks a second table, slipping this into the ring as well!

Andrew Fulton: Is he finished? Nope! The recently rejoined KGB member grabs a third table and starts to get it ready to push into the ring when...

Jeremy Tucker: PHENOMENAL FOREARM!!!

Andrew Fulton: Springboarding from the inside to the outside, the Blackpool Bombshell streaks through the air until she collides with the Founder! Dripping blood everywhere, Blaze Freya rises and positions the table Soutter had on top of him!

Jeremy Tucker: Jumping to the ring apron, the shrieking Amazon immediately dives off and plants both feet into the table covered Mad Dog! DOUBLE STOMP!!!

Andrew Fulton: You can't win the match by putting the table through your opponent!

Jeremy Tucker: You're correct, Fulton, but you can incapacitate them!

Andrew Fulton: For good measure, Freya leaps and bounces across the table with a senton! Further squishing the Founder!

Jeremy Tucker: Shoving the table off of him, Blaze collects Paul from the ground and pressures him to stand as she tugs at both ears! Grabbing hold of Soutter's wrist, Freya wrenches his arm in a circle, dropping flat on her back as she extends her foot into the face of her opponent and keeps the wrist held tight!

Andrew Fulton: EAT DEFEAT!!!

Jeremy Tucker: Whipping backward due to the force, Mad Dog cracks his head against the metal underside of the fallen table!

Andrew Fulton: Rolling under the bottom rope, the Blackpool Bombshell re-enters the ring and scales the turnbuckles to the top rope! She's picking the perfect moment to pounce!

Jeremy Tucker: Spying that Soutter is standing, Freya turns her back to him and backflips, soaring then plummeting then landing right across the unexpectant Founder! TOP ROPE MOONSAULT!!!

Andrew Fulton: This is wild, Jerry!

Jeremy Tucker: You're telling me! The crowd can't get enough!

Stomping, clapping, and cheering, the fans in attendance are almost drowning out the two commentators. Loud and exciting, that's exactly what wrestling shows should be.

Andrew Fulton: For a while both of them lie on their backs looking up at the lights until Freya eventually rolls over and stands again.

Jeremy Tucker: Ignoring to set up the table nearby, Blaze focuses on Paul as she preps to unleash a stiff strike. His equilibrium rattled, Soutter shakily picks himself up and rotates to face Freya. SUPERKICK!!! SUPERKICK!!! SUPERKICK!!!

Andrew Fulton: She didn't get any of it! Mad Dog grabs her foot and pulls her in, easily lifting her up and slamming her on the corner of the steel steps with a belly to back suplex!

Jeremy Tucker: JE-SUS!!!

Andrew Fulton: That might've been a punishable domestic violence crime.

Jeremy Tucker: Leaving the crumpled body of the Blackpool Bombshell draped over the steel steps, Mad Dog begins setting up the table that was previously used against him.

Andrew Fulton: Propping the table against the ring apron, Soutter makes sure it's secure as he notices a familiar face in the front row.

Jeremy Tucker: It's Jonnie Valentine! What's he doing here? He was fired! Valentine is munching on popcorn and watching the action like he's a regular fan!

Andrew Fulton: Security! Security! Toss his worthless ass out the front door! He's dropping popcorn; that's littering!

Jeremy Tucker: Collecting herself, Blaze takes advantage of the distraction and readies for Soutter to face her!

Andrew Fulton: Founder, watch out!

Jeremy Tucker: It's too late! As Soutter brings his attention back to his opponent, Freya runs from the steel steps, along the apron, and... TORN!!! TORN!!! TORN!!!

Andrew Fulton: SHE WISHES! NO, MAD DOG CATCHES HER, SPINS HER, SPINS HER, SIDE SLAM THROUGH THE TABLE LEANED AGAINST THE APRON!!! HE'S DONE IT! THERE'S BLOOD AND SPLINTERS OF WOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE!

Frank Salazar: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match... THE FOUNDER... MMMMMMMAAAAAAADDDDDDDD DDDDDDOOOOOOGGGGGGGG PPPPPPPPPAAAAAAAUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLLL SSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTEEEEEERRRRRR!!!

Jeremy Tucker: Jonnie's jumped the railing! He's sprinting in the direction of the man that humiliated him! Soutter gets to his feet and is blasted with a RUNNING PICTURE PERFECT DROPKICK!! THE IMPACT OF IT SENDS THE FOUNDER STRAIGHT THROUGH A TABLE ANGLED ACROSS THE BARRICADE!!!

Andrew Fulton: Where are those meatheads? This man isn't welcome in SWAT!

Jeremy Tucker: Standing over Soutter, Valentine looks at him and smirks as the crowd cheers!

[SWAT Team]

(The show returns from commercials for various movies, spots of various SWAT superstars doing COVID-19 shots, along with SWAT Magazines story on both Psychotic Goth and Vampira along with Eddie D. Along with a promo for SWAT Amazons showing various SWAT Amazons from it's past to the present before fading to ringside where ringsiders have signs saying "Send Rally to Hell!," "Rally is the greatest!," "Raise the Hell Hounds!" and Rally Rules!." before fading to the broadcast booth where Jeremy Tucker and Andrew Fulton are wearing officially licensed SWAT masks and baseball caps and wearing head sets.)

Jeremy Tucker: "Welcome back to Battleground 39: Off The Hook and it's going just as it's hyped to be and that it's Off The Hook and Off The Chain."

Andrew Fulton: "You bet it is Jerry. This is definitely going to be Off The Hook, Off The Chain and Off Everything for that matter."

Jeremy Tucker: "This match is going to be interesting since we have The Hell Hounds led by the Reverend Cornelius Marsh as they look to bounce back from their devastating first defeat at the hands of The KGB. They face off against the unusual team of Rally 'Golden God' Jackson and El Combatealorean."

Andrew Fulton: "Luchador Man of Mystery is honored to be teamed with the greatest and most decorated SWAT Champion Rally Jackson."

Jeremy Tucker: "He must have taken leave of his senses since Rally doesn't care about partners and is so arrogant that nobody even wants to team with him let alone associate with him. Let alone be in the same locker room with him."

Andrew Fulton: "Oh come on Jerry. Lot's of guys want to team with the greatest champion in SWAT history. Imagine his holy eminence is a choosy guy and he chose El Combatealorean who met his needs in a tag team partner. Hell, he doesn't need a partner at all and he can beat The Hell Hounds all by himself."

Jeremy Tucker: "Well we all saw this partner is actually his bodyguard with a suit and mask on, can he wrestle though is the question."

Andrew Fulton: "He’s trained by and teamed with the Golden God, of course he can, although the Hellhounds make for a daunting debut.."

Jeremy Tucker: "Your words not mine Andrew. Speaking of Rally and El Combatealorian's opponents The Hell Hounds are total brawlers who love any kind of fight and a Detroit Street Fight is just what these tag team veterans love."

Andrew Fulton: "Rally's been a master of all matches including any kind of street fight for years and now he's going to show these whackos what good hygiene and what real tag team wrestling is all about."

Jeremy Tucker: "Well every SWAT tag team have been taking exception to that since they believe that he's just desperate to remain significant and prove he's not a laughing stock due to him being so out of shape. Right now let's go to the ring for this match."

Frank Salazar: "This next match is scheduled for one fall and it's a Detroit Street Fight Introducing first from Rio De Janeiro, Brazil and Parts Unknown respectively and they come in at 525lbs. Please welcome Rally 'Golden God' Jackson and El Combatealorean."

("Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein hits and Rally Jackson and El Combatealorean make their way down the rampway. He is taking his time and is seriously out of shape while El Combatealorean psyches himself up. Rally slaps him on the back of his head which elicits laughs from the ringsiders. They get into the ring and Rally struts around in a confident manner and then cracks his own neck and the referee approaches him and starts patting him down as El Combatealorean roars eliciting even more laughs from the ringsiders.)

Andrew Fulton: "Look at these two great men about to show who is the best team."

Jeremy Tucker: "That I got to see. At least we can see that they are an entertaining team if they were on America's Got Talent performing comedy. By the ringsider's reaction they seem to be enjoying the laughs but let's see if they can really wrestle as a team."

Andrew Fulton: "Oh come on Jerry. This is Rally Jackson we're talking about and he always works well with partners and that includes anyone and everyone. Hell, the list includes Tuxedo Mask, Jonnie Valentine and Syberus and he even works well with Marty Donovan."

Jeremy Tucker: "Then why aren't they teamed up with him. Be assured that their opponents aren't going to be in any kind of playful mood after they suffered their first loss and will be looking to bounce back against The KGB."

Andrew Fulton: "Waaaaa.......Waaaaaa.....or shall I say Woof.....Woof!......Whimper!......Whimper! They got their tails whumped because of Reverend Marsh's big loud selfish overly self righteous mouth."

Frank Salazar: "Now introducing from The Land of Filth and Honey. They come in at a total combined weight of 575lbs. They are being led to the ring by the Reverend Cornelius Marsh. Please welcome Cerberus and Psycho … The Hell Hounds."

("I Put a Spell on You" by Marilyn Manson plays and The Reverend Cornelius Marsh leads The Hell Hounds down to the ring by chains attached by dog collars. The Hell Hounds wear hockey masks, have dirty dreadlocks, and their clothes are bloodstained from previous matches tattered and torn.)

Jeremy Tucker: "El Combatealorean seems to be taking his health into his own hands being this is a Detroit Street Fight. The Hell Hounds will be at a huge advantage being they are brawlers like I mentioned, they don't mess around in the ring."

Andrew Fulton: "Speaking of messing around The Hell Hounds seem to enjoy making huge messes when they raise their legs at hydrants. Then they like to sit on non believer's lawns to do their business for not paying Nancy’s hair salon bills and failing to make their donations."

Jeremy Tucker: "The bell hasn't even rung yet and already both teams are going at it. The Hell Hounds double clothesline Rally Jackson. They kick and force him out of the ring and then double clothesline the alleged luchador before opening a double can of whoop ass on his bodyguard."

Andrew Fulton: "Get your facts straight Jerry. That's the greatest rookie luchador and El Combatealorean is not his bodyguard anymore, he is his partner. Rally returns to the ring and double clotheslines before dropping elbows to both Hell Hound's chests."

Jeremy Tucker: "Rally tosses both Hell Hounds out unceremoniously and then picks up his tag team partner and waits for The Hell Hounds to bet up before Gorilla pressing El Combatealorean and throwing him out of the ring onto them. he leaves the ring and finds a camera and smashes The Hell Hounds in the face while Reverend Marsh screams curses and damnation his way."

Andrew Fulton: "Luckily Rally is in a good mood and he shrugs him off and whips his tag team partner into Psycho while trainwrecking Cerberus into the ringpost. Rally's tag team partner attempts a dropkick but Psycho bats him away like a flea on a dog which is what The Hell Hounds have in their hair."

Jeremy Tucker: "So far Rally's alleged tag team partner has been effective as a typical scrub and jobber. Rally belly to belly suplex's Psycho and Cerberus starts beating him with a chair. Psycho grabs a chair and they start beating Rally with a chain."

Andrew Fulton: "That's unfair, they're going to give him rabies and he's going to die from that. El Combatealorean makes the save and by tackling and ground and pounding Psycho with forearms and elbows. Who said that El Combatealorean can't wrestle and has no talent."

Jeremy Tucker: "A couple of moves doesn't make a wrestler. Cornelius yells encouragement in the form of bible passages as Cerberus chokes Rally with the chain and El Combatealorean low shots Cerberus with a gore. Reverend Marsh is now spewing hellfire and brimstone."

Andrew Fulton: "Oh great we have to hear his goofy gospel. Rally finds a water bottle and takes a timeout before taking a swig and spits it at that stupid Reverend. He unleashes a koppo kick to Cerberus that sends him down to one knee."

Jeremy Tucker: "Rally delivers a koppo kick to Psycho as El Combatealorean slowly gets up and starts kicking away at Psycho. They continue to double team him without any pause. Reverend Marsh orders Cerberus to go after them as he hands him a bunch of fluorescent light tubes. He points to the alleged luchador and yells holy hell at him."

Andrew Fulton: "He's as legitimate luchador as I'm a legitimate broadcast colleague."

Jeremy Tucker: "Finally you confess to being a fraud."

Andrew Fulton: "Oh funny Jerry. Cerberus growls at the luchador and hits El Combatealorean with those fluorescent light tubes. That poor luchador is beginning to bleed as Rally whips Psycho into the ring post and squashes him. He finds his water bottle and takes another water break before he starts running and picks up steam as he runs around the ring and steamrolls Cerberus into the ringside seats and does the same to Psycho."

Jeremy Tucker: "Rally's aggressive and he's taking this match more seriously than usual. Now he grabs a mirror and smashes Psycho as he tries to bet back over the security guard railing. Psycho simply cracks his neck and unleashes hard lefts and rights. Reverend Marsh tosses him his spiked dog collar and he beats Rally relentlessly with him."

Andrew Fulton: "Someone should check The Hell Hounds and see if they have rabies shots. Psycho finds El Combatealorean, who's leaning on the guard rail, and starts beating him with that dog collar. Cerberus sommersaults over the security railing onto the luchador's back and starts delivering knuckled punches to that poor luchador."

Jeremy Tucker: "Poor luchador. He's a bodyguard impersonating a luchador. Rally charges and spears Cerberus and gore busters Psycho as he climbs over the guard railing. Rally attempts a big splash but Cerberus pulls a spoon out and jabs it into his throat. The Hell Hounds open up a double can of whoop ass on El Combatealorean. Reverend Marsh tosses them forks and they begin stabbing the fraudulent luchador."

Andrew Fulton: "They deliver another double can of whoop ass or should I really call it as it is can of woof ass. The Hell Hounds continue to stab that poor luchador and they even go after his private parts before stomping on those too. Rally saves the day by setting up Cerberus and suplex's him onto the ringsteps and does the same to Psycho."

Jeremy Tucker: "Rally gets on the ring apron and gets a running start and he delivers a legdrop on both Hell Hounds on the ringsteps. El Combatealorean jumps onto them and gets only a close two count. Rally continues to pummel Cerberus and finds an iron rod which he continues to beat him with a vengeance."

Andrew Fulton: "Keep on those smelly morons Rally. El Combatealorean chops away at Psycho who in turn chops away at him and sends the poor luchador stumbling desperately for breath. Now Psycho grabs some razor wire provided by Reverend Marsh and begins to wrap it around the newcomer luchador and pulls back making him bleed. That's sadistic and cruel."

Jeremy Tucker: "If that poor luchador can't fight his own battles or even fight back. He isn't even close to being a real luchador let alone wrestle like one. Reverend Marsh is hopping up and down urging his men to make that demonic luchador pay or his sins."

Andrew Fulton: "He's no demonic luchador let alone a zombie luchador. Hell, Marsh is more of sinner than El Combatealorean. Rally slides a table into the ring along with some more razor wire and leaves the ring before leaving the ring and takes a water break and proceeds to deliver a series of headbutts to the back of Psycho's head before doing the same to Cerberus."

Jeremy Tucker: "Seems Rally intends to turn this into a handicap match just to show dominance. He tosses both Hell Hounds into the ringside seats again before military pressing his alleged tag team partner onto The Hell Hounds."

Andrew Fulton: "Now that's true creative offense. Rally climbs over the security railing and starts stomping away on both Hell Hounds like the worthless dogs they are."

Jeremy Tucker: "You want worthless try his tag team partner. Rally chokes Cerberus on the security guard railing and then turns to Psycho and delivers a series of stiff kicks to his face before delivering devastating series of forearms smashes to the back of his head and neck."

Andrew Fulton: "Break his neck oh great god of all wrestlers! Cerberus gets a fire extinguisher from Reverend Marsh and proceeds to spray the contents into Rally and his partner's faces. The Hell Hounds throw the helpless luchador over the security guard railing and onto the hard concrete floor."

Jeremy Tucker: "That helpless luchador is a bodyguard without any wrestling ability and we both know it. Cerberus beats Rally over the head with that fire extinguisher before going back over the security guard railing. Reverend Marsh is doing his well known famous jig dance and quoting the good book."

Andrew Fulton: "Come on Rally make that religious fraud stop his stupid sermons. The Hell Hounds mosh pit carry El Combatealorean and ram him into the ringpost and drop him head first onto the ringsteps. Come on referee disqualify these two dirty and stinky dogs."

Jeremy Tucker: "This is a Detroit Street Fight and there are no disqualifications and no rules."

Andrew Fulton: "Then disqualify them for being just being ugly and a health hazard."

Jeremy Tucker: "That's no real reason for disqualifying them."

Andrew Fulton: "Says you. The Hell Hounds are health and safety hazards to everyone in both SWAT and JROK."

Jeremy Tucker: "The Hell Hounds don't pose any threat of health and safety hazards. Rally looks really angry and he's going right after The Hell Hounds. He uses the television cables to choke Psycho and then he delivers knife edges to Cerberus. He double headbutts them relentlessly."

Andrew Fulton: "Rally double noggin noggins The Hell Hounds followed by equal elbows to their heads forcing them away from El Combatealorean. Rally psyches himself up as he warns Reverend Marsh to stay out of it if he knows what's good for him. You tell him Rally!"

Jeremy Tucker: "Rally finds two steel drums and he places them over The Hell Hounds before he finds a baseball bat and starts beating cans with a vengeance. Rally is really letting loose on The Hell Hounds."

Andrew Fulton: "Reverend Marsh is still acting like a total moron by urging his team on. Rally finds a metal baseball bat and continues to beat those steel drums. Keep it up Rally!"

Jeremy Tucker: "Reverend Marsh is obviously the gutsiest manager or the most blessed since nobody has done any harm to him. Marsh is bellowing plenty of holy hell now."

Andrew Fulton: "Ignore that pagan fraud Rally! Rally removes both steel drums and continues to beat both Hell Hounds with that metal baseball bat. he places them on top of each other and backs up and runs and splashes them for a close three count."

Jeremy Tucker: "I think Rally wants to send a message that he's coming for The KGB and their tag team titles but he's going to need a much better partner. Rally backs up and he butt bounces on their chests relentlessly."

Andrew Fulton: "Rally's teaching that trash eating tag team a harsh lesson for picking on that poor luchador of a tag partner. Reverend Marsh threatens to purge Rally of both his evil spirit and his sins but Rally ignores him but gives him the evil eye. He whips Psycho into the ringpost and squashes him while Cerberus powerbombs Rally's helpless partner."

Jeremy Tucker: "He knew what he was doing by impersonating a luchador and now he's getting what's coming to him. Rally running shoulderblocks Cerberus as he's about to make the pin. He picks up El Combatealorean and bodyslams him onto Cerebus for a close three count."

Andrew Fulton: "You see Rally's sharing the credit if they win this match and they will win this match. He gives that rotten Reverend Marsh one final warning to stay out of the match and the Rotten Reverend is accusing him of being sacrilegious. How dare he make false charges against the great god Rally Jackson."

Jeremy Tucker: "If he's so great why does everyone hate him. Rally is becoming even more irritated as the Reverend Cornelius Marsh continues to raise hell over his dominating manner. He points to Marsh and warns him one last time before he continues to punish The Hell Hounds."

Andrew Fulton: "What better way to do it than to piledrive Cerberus and then Psycho. Rally unceremoniously dumps Psycho onto Cerberus and climbs the ringsteps before bonsai dropping onto The Hell Hounds. The referee makes the count.....One....Two.....Thr.....No! The Hell Hounds get their stinky arms up."

Jeremy Tucker: "The Hell Hounds are a veteran team and they survived all kinds of assaults on their careers, they have been in there with the best.”

Andrew Fulton: "They are also long in the tooth. Long in the bad breath category. Long in their hunger for human flesh etc. Rally is stomping a mudhole into both Hell Hounds. He places a foot on each of those ugly dogs necks and demanding they say the name of who's their superior. Just say it Hell Hounds one for El Combatealorean and one for Rally."

Jeremy Tucker: "The Hell Hounds don't say that to any opponent or answer to any opponent. They let their wrestling do the talking and the good Reverend does the talking for them. El Combatealorean starts stomping on them as Rally kicks them in the head and body. Rally finds a barbed wire 2x4 and beats The Hell Hounds in their privates."

Andrew Fulton: "I just love the way The Hell Hounds are howling like the true dogs they really are. Keep it up oh god above all wrestlers Rally Jackson. Go on and make them pay for trying to kill your loyal tag team partner. Rally attempts a gutbuster on Psycho but Cerberus chop blocks him sending Rally to one knee."

Jeremy Tucker: "He's obviously mocking someone else along with The Hell Hounds. The Hell Hounds recover and start clobbering Rally and whip him into the ringpost. They start synchronized trainwrecking him and start kicking and stomping Rally. El Combatealorean goes after them but The Hell Hounds double headbutt him before throwing him unceremoniously back into the ring."

Andrew Fulton: "That's no way to treat a good luchador. El Combatealorean is trying to crawl to the ropes with such bravery it's honorable. He slowly starts to use the ropes to get up but he's struggling and still he's trying hard while still remaining in the ring. Come on El Combatealorean save your partner Rally Jackson with your legendary high flying moves."

Jeremy Tucker: "That so called luchador or shall I say bodyguard is trying to runaway from the ring and the match. Reverend Marsh continues to preach but sees Rally coming after him pointing ominously at him."

Andrew Fulton: "Yeah that's it Rally. Teach that loud mouth con artist preacher a lesson in respecting a wrestling god. Rally begins chasing that filth spewer all over the place. Yeah Reverend Marsh you aren't so mouthy now are you."

Jeremy Tucker: "Meanwhile in the ring The Hell Hounds have set up Rally's table and get the screaming El Combatealorean and bodyslam him onto the table and Psycho holds him down as Cerberus wraps the razor wire around him and the table."

Andrew Fulton: "Don't you dare hurt El Combatealorean! Save him Rally! Save your loyal and trusted and willing to sacrifice himself for you partner."

Jeremy Tucker: "He's too far away to even reach the ring in time in the shape he's in."

Andrew Fulton: "Don't you dare kill that great luchador or I'll make sure you get punished! The Hell Hounds are on the top turnbuckles and they aren't going to do what I think they are going to do! No don't kill him! They just double flying elbow dropped El Combatealorean through the table and Psycho makes the cover on the now dead luchador....No! No! ......One....Two....Three!"

Frank Salazar: "Your winners at 21minutes The Hell Hounds."

Jeremy Tucker: "The Hell Hounds prevail in this bloody and gruelling brawl and regain some momentum for The Anzac Cup defeating Rally Jackson and his phony partner El Combatealorean. Rally finally manages to get back into the ring. Yet the real interesting thing was Rally's dominance in the match."

Andrew Fulton: "Pure dominance all the way and there's going to be tag team gold in their future. They make a great team despite the loss and they will have plenty of matches in the future. It's all guaranteed."

Jeremy Tucker: "Telling by the way he's shaking his head and lifting and placing El Combatealorean over his shoulder before leaving the ring and carrying him from ringside."

Andrew Fulton: "Come on El Combatealorean is going to be a hero in Mexico after surviving the assault and attempted murder hit by The Hell Hounds."

Jeremy Tucker: "He didn't even deserve to be in the same ring with The Hell Hounds or be Rally's tag team partner for that matter. Right now we're just getting warmed up with Psychotic Goth defending his championship against Eddie D later tonight. However, right now we have to take a break but we shall return with more great SWAT action after this."

(They fade to commercials.)

[Kyle]

Placed on a stand, contained within a small box of glass, and laid on a velvet pillow, the SWAT Universal Sin title is prominently displayed. As the scene widens, Keith Williams is shown standing off to the side, staring at the gorgeous presentation. Casually dressed like he just worked out, Williams has on gym shorts, a SWAT t-shirt, and sneakers.

Keith Williams: "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His eyes drawn toward the gold, Williams can't look away.

Keith Williams: "Six months."

Keith Williams: "Six months I've held and defended this title. Since the day I won it from Eddie D back in November of last year, I've worn this championship all over the XHF."

Keith Williams: "In two matches I became a champion and forever etched my name in the history of SWAT. What about you, Devon?"

Keith Williams: "Oh, you beat Goth once and lost to him once? That's... Something."

Keith Williams: "As much as you're looking past me, expecting victory, I'm doing the exact same thing."

Fully engrossed with his title, Keith has yet to take his eyes off of it in the case.

Keith Williams: "The 2021 Anzac Cup is where The ReVenants will climb even higher in the pantheon. Oxford Osland and I are the ONLY tag-team that matters in SWAT. That tournament? Those tag-team championships? They're ours! I'm sick and tired of the mediocre stranglehold The KGB has on Syndicate Wrestling & Tradition. Isn't everyone? They're running out of ideas and worthy members, which had them bring Soutter back into the fold! How pathetic is that?!"

Still gazing at his championship, Keith makes a disgusted face.

Keith Williams: "They need to move aside and let The ReVenants assume the power they've selfishly squandered for so long. We aren't rapidly stagnating like they are. Every member in our group is of high value and only getting better. The bandits have done what they've done and it's been okay. There's no shame in their game, but this promotion isn't big enough for us both. This is their cue to ride off into the sunset. Good job, everybody, you were semi-menacing. Let the big bad wolves take over. Let SWAT rightfully be ruled by ReVs."

Shaking his head, KW pulls himself out of his transfixed state, looking up at the camera.

Keith Williams: "See what I mean? Here I am rambling about tag-teams and groups, completely distracted by accolades soon to come. When I should be concerned with retaining and squashing another annoying insect."

Keith Williams: "If you beat me, D'Andre, and that's a big if... You'll become a champion thanks to Keith Williams. I'll have made you because my name means that much. Then the buck gets passed to you. The responsibility becomes being as good of a champion as I was, as Eddie D was, as Rally Jackson and Psychotic Goth were. Are you up to that? Or will you prove you can't handle the pressure? That's what I'm most interested in. That little underlying dynamic."

Squinting for a moment to add emphasis, Williams sees what others can't.

Keith Williams: "I beat one of the best SWAT has to become champion and in the process of being a champion I've defended it against the best. That's what you have to look forward to. You want to be the ace of this company? Prove it. You want to rename my championship the United States title? Haha, go ahead. You've got a long path to walk before you're as dominant a US champion as I've been. I'm the greatest US champion the XHF Network has ever witnessed. I've eclipsed the other champions."

Slowly nodding his head, The Ultimate Kingpin definitely believes his own hype.

Keith Williams: "Don't let your fixation on Goth stop you from doing what you need to. I'm no bridge. I'm no stepping stone. I'm the man that's going to fuck you up and ruin your day should you make a mistake. You're wrestling a top tier athlete, treat the match as such. I'm not joking around; I'm not playing games. This is my job and I take it very seriously when I'm in the ring."

Keith Williams: "I'm sure you have this misconception that you'll beat Goth for the strap. It's cute, really. It's nice to dream. What you haven't considered is the possibility of Eddie D beating him tonight. Which would mean... I'm at the front of the line to get a title shot, not you. The Big Deal wants his win back? The KGB wants to settle what stable is superior? He's going to put his newly won belt on the line. Our match will be for the highest stakes of them all, the SWAT World Heavyweight Championship."

Keith motions around his waist to suggest a championship belt.

Keith Williams: "Ox and I are who you should aspire to be, Devon. It might not be achievable, but you should still shoot for the stars! Bit of advice? Don't call him by Ox, that's a name only I can use. You shall always refer to him as Mr. Unbelievable, The Lord of Television, Ambassador of the Airwaves, Oxford Osland."

ALL HAIL THE SWAT TELEVISION CHAMPION!

Keith Williams: "On this episode of Battleground I'm going to do what I'm known for. Abusing, using, and not losing to my opponent. Devon D'Andre, you have the unfortunate task of being my opponent. I don't want to hear about your endgame. I'm not remotely curious! I only want to take in your screams as I rip you limb from limb. When I'm finished, I'll arrange to send your body back to Chicago. What's another lifeless corpse to them? It's the least I can do after I cut off any chance of you winning the SWAT Universal Sin Championship."

Returning his attention to the enclosed gold, the Ultimate Kingpin continues to watch the title until everything fades to black.

[SWAT Team]

Three letters announced over the PA in a super slow fashion precede the explosive sound of "When the Levee Breaks" by Led Zeppelin playing. The lights in the arena incessantly flash on and off as Keith Williams marches out onto the stage. Back to the camera, he thrusts both hands upward with three fingers pointed up on each. The three turn into two, the two turn into a pair of middle fingers that Keith continues to flaunt as he whirls around and the lights return to normal.


Smirking, Williams shrugs and nonchalantly shows his palms, acting as if he's clueless to why he's getting hate. Waggling his eyebrows to get a rise out of the fans, Keith fires off a series of mustache strokes before strutting his way down to the ring. Slowly rolling under the bottom rope to enter, The Ultimate Kingpin keeps rolling until he's in the center of the squared circle. Kneeling, his back to the camera again, KW points at the design on his jacket with a single thumb.


Andrew Fulton: Yes! Finally!



Jeremy Tucker: Keith Williams has entered the ring for our next match, and the fans are not as happy as my broadcast colleague.

The lights dim out as the soft opening notes of "Lights" pulses through the arena speakers. Spotlights ranging from green to gold and back again trace around crowd.


## I had a way then

Losing it all on my own

I had a heart then

But the queen has been overthrown ##


Devon bursts onto the stage as a pair of lights fixate on him. Slowly lowering the hood of his jacket he grins wide and drops to a knee. Dragging his hand across the floor of the stage, he lightly taps it twice with his fist before popping back up and beginning his trek towards the ring.


## And I'm not sleeping now

The dark is too hard to beat

And I'm not keeping up....



Frank Salazar steps into the ring, ready to begin the announcements. But then Keith Williams slides from the ring, grabbing Devon's jacket to pull it over his head as he drops hard blows on his back and shoulders.



Jeremy Tucker: This is a disgrace! The bell has not even rang! Devon has been thrown into the ring stairs, Williams tearing off Devon's jacket and whipping him with it.

Andrew Fulton: Devon should have been prepared for the Kingpin, Jerry! The man will stop at nothing to protect his Universal Sin title! These fans do not approve at all though!

Jeremy Tucker: Keith Williams has Devon back on his feet, throwing stiff punches before he rolls him into the ring! He drags him to the edge, and draws back!

Andrew Fulton: Frankie is out of the ring, and the Kingpin is dropping hard elbows on Devon as he dangles from the ring. Devon hits the floor hard, and Keith Williams mocks the crowd by stroking his mustache.

Jeremy Tucker: Devon D'Andre is crawling back to his feet, he looks hurt! But he is rolling into the ring, waving off the referee! The referee asks if he is ready to go, and he is nodding as he forces himself up in the corner.

Andrew Fulton: D'Andre is no match for Keith at a hundred percent, this is ridiculous! Ring the bell, and call it!

Jeremy Tucker: Keith is in the ring, and the ref is calling for the bell as he motions for Devon to bring it on. Devon pushes out of the corner, and starts throwing some punches.

Andrew Fulton: The Kingpin bats them aside, and throws Devon into the ropes before sending him to the mat with a bicycle kick on the rebound! Devon is down! And he better stay down if he knows what is good for him!

Jeremy Tucker: Keith Williams is mocking the fans before he makes a half hearted cover on Devon! Broken at one and a half!

Andrew Fulton: Keith is telling that ref to learn to count, and Devon grabs him from behind in a quick roll up!

Jeremy Tucker: Kickout at 1!

Andrew Fulton: Those cheap tactics by D'Andre disgust me! Playing possum? What kind of man does that?

Jeremy Tucker: What? Are you crazy? Devon is back on his feet, throwing punches at Keith before he pushes him into the corner the Blade Barrage!

Andrew Fulton: The referee steps in, trying to break it up! And Keith spins around Devon to plant him in the corner with a European Uppercut! The fans boo, and Keith fires off another one before he steps back to let Devon stumble from the corner. The pre match beatdown clearly taking a toll on the challenger.

Jeremy Tucker: Don't count out Devon D'Andre just yet! Superkick! Superkick!

Andrew Fulton: These fans need to quit cheering against Keith Williams! These people in Detroit have no respect!

Jeremy Tucker: Devon going in for the cover now, and Keith rolls to the outside shaking his head to clear the cobwebs!

Andrew Fulton: Keith Williams is fine! You're living in a dream world! D'Andre takes off, and no! No!

Jeremy Tucker: Tope Suicida! Both men are laying on the outside, and the fans are going wild! This match is becoming a war!

Andrew Fulton: D'Andre is up first, and he slams Keith's head into the barricade and pushes him into the ring so he is over the apron! Don't do it, Devon!

Jeremy Tucker: He is going do it! Oh, no! Leg drop across the throat of the Kingpin! Keith is down again on the outside!

Andrew Fulton: You have to beat him in the ring, Devon!

Jeremy Tucker: He knows that. D’Andre is on fire! The challenger is rolling the champ into the ring, and Keith looks to be out of it! Devon makes the pin!

1....


2.....

Jeremy Tucker: Keith gets his foot under the ropes! The fans don't like it! Devon is dragging Keith back to his feet!

Andrew Fulton: The fans don't like that! Devon's down as Keith hits a low blow while the ref can't see! That is ring awareness Jerry!

Jeremy Tucker: Cheating! You mean cheating! Keith Williams taking time to mock the crowd before he turns his attention back to Devon, dragging him to his feet before he nails a Double Arm DDT! Devon is down again, how much more can the challenger take!

Andrew Fulton: Keith Williams is in the corner, waiting for Devon to get up! The champ has ill intentions! He is going for the bicycle kick, and--

Jeremy Tucker: D'Andre dodges out of the way, and comes back around to drive Keith into the corner with a drop kick. Another Blade Barrage, and these fans are going wild!

Andrew Fulton: The Kingpin reverses, spinning him around to deliver chop after chop! The referee trying to regain control of this match, as Keith sets him up for the brainbuster! This is the end for Devon, and NO! NO!

Jeremy Tucker: PURE GOLD II! THE FANS ARE GOING WILD! BUT DEVON IS FADING FAST!

1....

2....

2.5....

AND KEITH KICKS OUT!

Andrew Fulton: Thank god! The Kingpin is pulling himself up on the ropes, Devon comes in for the lock up! It is back and forth, and the Kingpin breaks away! Release German Suplex! Devon is down!

Jeremy Tucker: Keith is shaking off the effects of the Pure Gold II, and he moves forward to lock on the 'Ode to Alex Trebek'! Devon is in trouble!

Andrew Fulton: Just tap D'Andre! Just tap!

Jeremy Tucker: Devon gets a foot on the ropes! Williams not breaking the count until 4 and a half! He is back on his feet, motioning for Devon to rise!

Andrew Fulton: D'Andre is up, but the champ comes in hard to nail the K-driver! NO! D’Andre reverses it and rolls Williams up in a small package!

One .....

Two ....

THREE!!!!

Jeremy Tucker: HE GOT HIM!!! Devon D’Andre just pinned the Universal Sin Champion KEithWilliams!! We have a new U.S. Champion Fulton and his name is Devon D’Andre!!!

Andrew Fulton : I can’t believe it! What an upset!

Jeremy Tucker : I don’t know it was an upset, D’Andre is a seasoned pro of the mat and he just showed it right here with a big wake up call to Williams.

[Lights hits as Devon is handed the belt, Williams glares at him as we fade.]

[sc4r]

| LEGACY LIVES ON |

Backstage we are, similar spot to earlier. The long open corridor, SWAT banner hanging down covering the wall. This time, a table set up in front of it, clusters of microphones sit across the middle of the table, a bucket of bottled water to the left. Cameramen and reports are all lined up waiting as the new SWAT US Champion Devon D'Andre enters the area and steps behind the table, a smile on his face. Belt firmly clasped in his left hand, he holds it up as flashes go off.

"I bet none of you saw this coming, did you?" He says semi angrily as he sits down behind the table. "When I trained in Japan, there was an old man at the dojo who, after watching me become incredibly frustrated at the fact that I getting out ran, took me aside gave me probably the most important piece of advice I've ever been given in my wrestling career. He said you'll never be able to out strike or outwork everyone, too much reliance on the body will fail you. The brain, however, stays at it's peak for much longer. Out think them and you'll win every time." Taking the belt, he finds the two straps inward and props it up for all to see.

"I told you it would happen, but no one fuckin listens to me. I win my debut match, over our current world champion none the less. Yea.. Don't forget that. We're 1-1 bud. Win my second. Third match for the world title and end up submitting to a move I haven't seen since I lived in Japan."

He grabs a bottle of water and downs half of it, still catching his breath from the match.

"Forth match was a war with Donzig, for which I will be eternally grateful for and now this. Five matches in and I am your knew United States Champion. Now some of you probably wondering why I've picked that name and it's really quite simple; I am a sucker for tradition. I like when belts, when titles MEAN something. I enjoy the prestige and lineage of something. The idea of things having their own history. Having their own... legacy!"

|FIN|