XHF NETWORK AND FIRESIDE PRESENT: OVERHEATED 2021
Jul 11, 2021 20:33:28 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 3 more like this
Post by anthonycaffrey on Jul 11, 2021 20:33:28 GMT -5
Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to XHF: Overheated, hosted by FIIIIIIIIRESSSSSSSSSIIIIIIDEE!
The crowd roars!
Stanford: Please welcome, he is the XHF Network owner, he is MOONGGGGGGOOOOOOOOO THHHHHHHHEEEEEEE DESTROOOOOOYEEEEEEEEEEERRRR!
Overheated opens as “Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A Minor” by Electric Light Orchestra blasts through Citizens Bank Park and the XHF Network Owner, Mongo the Destroyer, makes his way out with a big smile to the ring. Once he’s inside he’s handed a microphone and gets right into it.
Mongo: Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight you're in for a real treat; we've got a very exciting Overheated for you. Aside from the expected Overheated fare, FIRESIDE has brought a great set of matches of their own! I hope that you have a great time watching tonight's show- and all the other A+ content coming out this month across the XHF Network! Tonight we’re having the qualifications between representatives from around the Network and the Call to Arms winning team all vying to get into the X*Crown match at the 20th Anniversary Night of Champions match.
He pauses and looks around a little confused.
Mongo: But- uh….What is the match going to actually be? You know I thought a lot about it over the last year. Do we bring back the first XHF Night of Champions main event- three stages of hell? Nah, it doesn’t compare to the Tower match, right?
The owner puts his hands up.
Mongo: …but we did the Tower match just a couple years ago at Night of Champions. Ok, well what about one of the other amazing matches, a greenhouse, a four-ring circus, an annihilation complex? I went through all of the greatest hits of the XHF and Network era and I realized something. You see, the XHF Network has made a name for itself over 20 years of taking risks and trying new things. Innovation! And so how could we ring in our 20th anniversary with something we already have done? No no. So this year on July 2th, the winners of tonight’s qualifiers will be entering into a brand new- and occasion appropriate match as they compete for the X*Crown!
He smiles and pauses.
Mongo: Tonight I officially announce what we’re calling the “Celebration Slam” match! It is a two stage ordeal celebrating twenty years of mayhem and excitement. And so in the first stage the superstars will gather in the ring and bring the entertainment you’ve come to know so well- BUT! There are no pins, submissions, or eliminations. Instead- disqualifications aside from getting too “extra curricular”- you are tasked with having to eliminate your opponent by smashing your them into one of four party supply cannons attached outside of the ringposts. These will not only blast confetti in celebration….but also dispense those remaining in the match with a special “party favor”- if you know what I mean.
The Network owner winks.
Mongo: By eliminating one of your fellow competitors you are immediately granted advancement into stage two and can actually take a break until the number of people in the match has been reduced to the four to successfully slam people into the cannons. After a short intermission while we reset everything, those four will move on to STAGE TWO!
He holds up two fingers.
Mongo: Those folks will be able to choose a gift that has been set up- the contents of which shall be their weapon of choice. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of other weapons available if they pull a Bobby Barratt and get like a t-shirt or something. Anyway, while they are engaging in the celebratory carnage, a cake will be brought onto the entranceway and if you want to win all you need to do is get up that ramp light the twenty candles on the cake, and blow them out. Simple right?
A devilish smile accompanied by a wink comes across Mongo’s face.
Mongo: Of course, when you’re dealing with me, it’s never quite that easy, is it? But if you manage to make it through tonight, make it through round one, and get all of those candles out- congratulations, you have won- or retained- the X*Crown!
He smiles.
Mongo: But enough of me, FIRESIDE has a tradition that we're not going to ignore tonight...
The camera follows Mongo's hand as he gestures to a large ceremonial cauldron for the FIRESIDE flame at the entranceway. He then makes his way over to a turnbuckle? A staffer hands Mongo a sparkler of all things.
Mongo: LET THERE BE FIRE!
He touches the sparkler to the turnbuckle and we see a small flame light, work its way down the turnbuckle to the floor, shimmy up the ramp, across the entryway to the cauldron and-
BOOM!
The entire set bursts into a flaming version of the XHF Network Logo, stories tall. It burns for a few moments while Overheated gets underway!
"Don't Tread on Me" plays over the speaks and dual tag champ and former President Curtis D. Kanyon makes his way down to the ring, holding one XHF tag title and both Fireside titles. He climbs I to the ring and pounds his chest. Some fans boo, some fans cheer. Curtis grabs a mic.
Curtis: Ladies and gentlemen, just six months ago, Donny Deville was standing in this ring, ready to go it alone, and I came out here and offered my services as his tag team championship partner. And we had a great time running rough shot over Fireside, and then capturing the XHF titles to boot. But unfortunately, Donny lost his smile. And I was forced to replace him for the XHF tag titles. And now, I must do the same in Fireside. Steve Awesome stepped up for the XHF tag titles, but between that and his acting, he can't also take up the defense for the Fireside belts.
The ladies in attendance boo that they won't be seeing Steve Awesome as his partner.
Curtis: So I reached out to another friend of mine, and luckily he agreed to join me here in Fireside and continue to make Caffrey’s life a living hell. Ladies and gentlemen… El Combatiente!
"To Live and Die in LA" plays as El Combatiente and Javier emerge from the back. They come down to the ring. Curtis gives him the "I'm not worthy" bow and El Combatiente nods and gestures how that's not needed. Kanyon takes a Fireside tag title from his shoulder and hands it to EC.
El Combatiente: Gracias señor presidente. Le debo por todas las oportunidades que me ayudó a lograr recientemente, y estoy feliz de poder ayudarlo aquí en Fireside.
(Thank you Mr. President. I owe you for all the opportunities you helped me to achieve recently, and am happy to help you out here in Fireside.)
Javier: Also, I'd never say no to Combatiente being a champion.
Curtis: Well, I only give opportunities to guys that I think have a lot of value. I chose you for Call to Arms because I know there's a lot of upside to you buddy, and together, as the BANG! Hermanos, we will continue to dominate Fireside! But first, tonight, we have X*Crown qualifiers to win. Buena suerte mi amigo!
"Don't Tread on Me" plays again as the BANG! Hermanos clear the ring.
Stanford: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and the winner will be advancing to the X*Crown Main Event at Night of Champions 12! Introducing first, from San Francisco, California. Weighing in at 180 pounds and representing The GUNS Show, he is NELLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ANGELLLLLLLLLLL!
Angel: WOOOOOOOOOOO! GO NELLY!
"Rip it Up" by Jet hits as the crowd gets on their feet. Nelly Angel comes out, pumped for his match and takes off down the ramp, sliding into the ring when he gets there. He's ready for a hot match!
Hawke: This is going to be a tight match folks, I can feel it! Two California natives, two high flying stars, and most importantly two XHF Originals are going to throw down for a chance at the X*Crown!
Angel: NELLY! NELLY! NELLY!
Stanford: And his opponent, from Los Angeles, California. Weighing in at 219 pounds and representing The BANG! Bros, he is ELLLLLLLLLL COMBAAAAAATIENTEEEEEEEEEEE!
Angel: BOOOOOOOOOOO! NELLY'S BETTER THAN YOU! BOOOOOOOO!
The opening of the Game’s “One Blood” hits the pa system and El Combatiente follows his manager Javier onto the stage. They look around soaking up there surrounding until El Combatiente breaks into a full sprint for the ring and slides in. Javier slowly walks to ringside and takes his position at ringside as El Combatiente stretches in the ring preparing for his match to begin.
Hawke: *ahem* Mind the biased commentary, Randy. We're here to call it like we see it!
Angel: Any other time I'd agree, but this is my lil bro! Finally getting his groove on and stepping into the spotlight! Gonna earn his first ever non-Rumble X*Crown match! Whoop whoop!
DING DING! DING DING!
With the bell rung, EC and Nelly square up in the center of the ring. Evaluating each other up close. Nether wanting to make the first move. It's a moment before El Combatiente sticks out a hand for a handshake, nodding to the wrestler he respects most in the XHF. Nelly takes the hand and the crowd roars in approval!
Hawke: The sportsmanship between these two is impeccable! You've got to respect this!
Angel: Whatever, Nelly will lure him into a trap soon enough.
And sure enough, as EC tries to pull away Nelly doesn't let go. Nelly says that no matter how much the two respect one another, there will be a winner tonight and that's him. EC retorts in Spanish, but no subtitles come up so we don't know what he's saying back. Nelly lets go of EC, and the two engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up! Both struggle for the upper hand, neither able to budge or break the other! Nelly is a slippery bastard though, and he squirms out of the hold into a waist lock. He lifts EC up, GERMAN SUPLEX! But EC flips out of it, he runs backwards into the ropes and sprints full-force at Nelly. Nelly turns around to eat a forearm right to the face! EC kips up and then drops a senton on the former XHF Interviewer, rolling off and standing up while holding his arms in the air!
Hawke: An excellent display of ring awareness by the former XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion!
Angel: Pah, just wait until you see what Nelly can do!
El Combatiente turns around as Nelly's about halfway to his feet. He wraps his arms around Nelly's neck in an inverted face lock and nails a rolling cutter to Nelly while Nelly's still on his knees! Nelly slumps over as EC stands up and rolls his neck. He kneels beside Nelly, going for a ground-and-pound but Nelly pulls him in for a gogoplata! EC is scrambling as Nelly's shin is sandwiching EC's windpipe! Nelly pulls down hard on EC's head attempting to end the match via ref stoppage, but EC manages to push himself up to his feet and lift the young Angel up - AND POWERBOMB! NO! DDT! NELLY REPOSITIONED HIMSELF MIDAIR! BOTH MEN LAND IN A HEAP ON THE FLOOR!
Angel: SEE?! I told you Nelly had this under control!
Hawke: El Combatiente has had his number thus far, but let's see what your brother can do.
Nelly Angel rolls under the ropes, pulling himself up on the outside of the ring. He jumps up and over... SPRINGBOARD SENTON! Nelly runs to the opposite ropes and hits EC in the side of the robs with a basement dropkick! EC rolls away but Nelly follows him, lifting him over the ropes for a suplex! He makes a pin attempt.
ONE...
TW-KICKOUT!
So close! Nelly shakes his head but lifts EC up, Irish whipping him into the corner. He then lays into the luchador with a series of quick chops, prompting WOO!s from those in attendance. EC catches one and fires back, backing Nelly up as they begin the chop fest of a lifetime!
Crowd: WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO!
EC has now backed Nelly up, his chest being the one lit up with chops! Nelly takes a large step back, and delivers a roundhouse kick to the back of EC's head! No dice! EC ducks and tries for one of his own! Nelly blocks it! They trade similar moves back and forth; sweeps, jabs and kicks are all tossed back and forth before EC can level Nelly with a huge kick to the thigh, then bouncing off the ropes for a hurricanrana! Nelly's head bounces off the mat with a THUD!
Angel: OOF!
Nelly rolls away holding his head and EC pumps his fist in the air! He then runs the ropes and jumps over Nelly, then running to a corner. He climbs up to the top, 630 SENTON! EC JUST FLIPPED SO MANY TIMES AND MY HEAD IS DIZZY! HE LIFTS NELLY TO HIS FEET AND GRABS HIM BY THE HEAD, SLICED BREAD! EC MAKES A PIN ATTEMPT!
ONE...
TWO...
KICKOUT!
Hawke: This is a close match, a true show stealer and I'm thinking it could go either way right now!
Angel: Obviously it'll go Nelly's way.
Hawke: Well I wouldn't be too sure, El Combatiente is a force to be reckoned with.
EC is frustrated, he shakes his head as Javier berates the referee, telling him to count faster. Both men are getting worn down but still have a bit of gas in the tank. EC has the decency to let Nelly get to his feet, much to Javier's dismay. They lock up in the center of the ring, showing off their technical prowess as they recover from the mind-melding flippy dos from earlier. They exchange a series of holds and rolls as Nelly takes the upper hand, planting EC with a mat slam! He drives his knee a few times into EC's ribs before hitting a standing splash on the luchador!
Angel: Look at the height on that!
Nelly looks up to the top rope, ready to take this to a new level! He climbs up and takes a shaky deep breath, he jumps off. ON ANGEL'S WINGS! ON ANGEL'S WINGS! CORKSCREW MOONSAULT OFF DA TAWP ROPE! NO NO NO! EL COMBATIENTE GOT THE KNEES UP! HE PINS NELLY OFF OF THAT, NOT LIKE THIS NOT LIKE THIS!
ONE...
TWO...
...
KICKOUT!!!!!!!
Angel (doing his best Joey Styles impression): OH MY GAAAAAWD!EC knows what he must do. He grabs Nelly and puts him in position for Street Justice, but marches towards the nearest corner under instruction from Javier. He climbs up to the second rope, oh my god oh no STREET JUSTI-NOOOO! NELLY MANAGES TO GRABS THE ROPES AND FLIPS HIMSELF OFF! THESE TWO ARE IN A PRECARIOUS POSITION RIGHT HERE, BUT NELLY GRABS EL COMBATIENTE'S HEAD AND LEAPS OFF THE TOP ROPE FOR BREAKING NEWS! OH MY GAWWWWWWD A BREAKING NEWS! OFF THE TOP ROPE! EL COMBATIENTE IS OUT OF IT! NELLY IS HURT TOO, BUT HE CRAWLS OVER, SCRATCHING AND CLAWING AND DRAGGING HIMSELF TO EC'S LIMP BODY! HE MAKES A PIN ATTEMPT!
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
DING DING! DING DING!
Angel: YEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!
Stanford: The winner of this match, and going to the main event of Night of Champions 12, NELLY ANGEL!
Angel: IT'S COMING HOME!
Hawke: What a match! I believe we're looking at the match of the night and we're only one match into the show!
Angel: IT'S COOOOMING HOOOOME! THE X*CROWN IS COMING HOME!
Hawke: Stick around, folks. We'll be getting into more non-biased wrestling after this break!
Hawke really elbows Angel hard in the ribs as he says that, but Angel doesn't even notice in his drunken stupor of singing!
The camera cuts to the Battle of the Best trophy, presumably in the New Money locker room. The camera pans to reveal the cameraman is Vodka Fizz.
Vodka: Look at that. It's kinda beautiful for a gaudy piece of dollar store trash the higher-ups tried to pawn off on us as something to lose our shit over, right? Unfortunately, if y'all watched the Battle of the Best, you know that the whole thing came down to our boss screwing over Dylan Black and handing the win to my tag team partner, Evan Valentine Jr.
Vodka shakes his head, some indecypherable emotion flashing in his eyes before he regains his composure.
Vodka: Ev, man, you gotta understand something, bro. Your dad buying you a tournament and you acting like you earned your win is a slap in the face to me. The very fact that you're where you are because your dad used to be handsome Jonnie Valentine is a slap in the face to me.
Vodka chuckles ruefully, shaking his head.
Vodka: The worst part is, you beat me square at Battle of the Best. I talked such a big game, and you were the one who had the gas to get it done. But that doesn't sit right with me, Ev. So since Marcus Washington, the guy who handed you a trophy and a title shot you don't deserve, gave me a golden ticket to face whoever I want, I'm going to use that opportunity to challenge you, Evan.
Vodka winks at the camera.
Vodka: This isn't about New Money. This isn't about me turning on you or you and I breaking up. New Money is still good, this is about settling beef. And this time, unfortunately, nobody is gonna buy your way out of getting your ass beat.
Vodka grins, then turns the camera back to the trophy before shutting it off.
Wright: A big challenge from Vodka Fizz there!
Park: He's not happy with Evan Valentine and they'll settle it next Inferno!
Walter Stanford: The following is a triple threat match scheduled for One Fall! The winner will receive a future SPARK Championship Match!
The crowd cheers.
Wright: Big match energy here as three competitors all look to get to the front of the line!
Park: The winner of this match will either be taking on Spike Kane, or the winner of another contendership match if Locke wins and the title is vacated!
"Bored Of You" by Agent Orange blasts through the speakers, much to the dismay of the crowd as Seth Hoffman walks out of the back with a sarcastic sad frown on his face, before telling a few fans near him to shove it. He takes his sweet time to get to the ring, jaw-jacking with the audience, before mocking them with fake high fives. There's at least a few fans for fall for it, thinking they're going to get a high five, but instead, he just puts his boot up and kicks their hands away, laughing at their misfortune.
Walter Stanford: Introducing first, from Austin, Texas, weighing in at 210 pounds, he is ‘Sinistar’ Seth Hoffman!
As his name's announced, he rolls into the ring under the bottom rope and walks over to the ropes, using the bottom and middle rope with each foot to lift himself up, throwing his right fist up, before spitting at the outside, causing a few fans to groan in disgust as he drops to the mat and leaps up to the middle turnbuckle, sitting down on the top rope while shaking his wrists, prepping for the match at hand.
Wright: Hoffman debuted not too long ago, still looking for his big first win.
Park: Battle of the Best was not his best night, but this is a great way to start fresh.
Stanford: And his opponents, first, from Puerto Vehlo, Brazil, weighing in at 184 pounds, he is ‘The Inevitable’ Jaice Wiiiiiiiiiiildsss!
The opening chords of “UltraNUMB” by Blu Stahli fills the arena as the lights go dark. Several flashes of blue and green lights illuminate various parts of the arena and entrance ramp to the beat of the song, all stopping with a cascade falling at the top center as Blue Stahli screams…
YOU WANT IT ALL RIGHT NOW!!!
At this point, the fans begin roaring as Jaice Wilds is spotted on a platform a few feet above the ramp. He raises his arms into an X, taking a moment to watch the crowd respond in kind before…
3! 2! 1!
Wilds flips forward off the platform, landing superhero style on the ramp below. He looks up, removing the hood from his face and tossing his shades into the crowd. He starts down the ramp, taking some time to slap random fives and bump fists.
You want it full frontal, over-stimulation
VROOOOOMMM! VROOOOOMMM!
So say a benediction, For a new addiction
In voyeuristic overdrive
VROOM!
(Here comes the countdown)
Wright: Jaice Wilds has had a bit of ups and downs in FIRESIDE, so here’s his opportunity to make anew!
Park: Do you… hear something?
You hear the revs of Daku Suzuki’s motorcycle as Daku rides out of the curtain and straight up runs over Jaice Wilds! Wilds goes down in a heap as Daku Suzuki keeps driving right on through!
Wright: OH MY GOD!
Park: He just… he just ran him over!
The crowd boos fiercely as Daku stops the blue-and-black Suzuki Harley-style motorcycle. Referee Chris Mardinly screams at him in shock as Dr. Lagari rushes down the ramp with the medical team to check on Jaice Wilds. Suzuki parks his bike right by the ring and demands that he’s announced for the match.
Stanford: Uh… okay… uh, from Hamamatsu, Japan, weighing in at 245 pounds, he is the ‘Knife of Motorcyles’, he is Daku Suzuki!
Daku slides into the ring and closes his eyes to show his necklace of a knife and a motorcycle on it and does his cutthroat signal before spreading his arms. Daku then opens his eyes and takes off his necklace and drops it on the floor as Daku holds onto the ropes, looking at the entranceway, waiting for his opponent to come out of the ramp.
Wright: Daku demanded to be announced, but that doesn’t change the fact he just ran over a guy on his bike!
Park: What the hell is wrong with him?
Referee Chris Mardinly doesn’t want to even come close to starting this match with Jaice Wilds injured as badly as just was. Mardinly makes gestures thinking about ejecting Daku or throwing out the entire match, but then he puts his hand to his ear as he’s being radioed new information, probably from Marcus Washington. Before long, he rings the bell, and the match is on.
Wright: This is unlike Mardinly to start a match like this with one of the competitors hurting badly! He could have damn near been killed!
Park: Something’s up here, Oliver.
Immediately following the bell ringing and his fellow competitor being run over by the Knife of Motorcycles, ‘Sinistar’ Seth Hoffman is definitely a bit shaken up as his focus is on the man who was just run over outside of the ring. He is grabbed from behind as Suzuki palms the back of his head and then lifts him up, slamming him down with an iron claw slam!
Wright: Throttle Cutter Slam from Daku Suzuki!
Park: This isn’t good! Someone should stop this!
The crowd is fiercely booking Daku Suzuki as he waits for his moment to lock in his version of a rear-naked choke! He gets down with Hoffman and immediately applies it, then begins to choke the life out of his opponent!
Wright: Knife Choke! Knife Choke!
Park: This one could be over before it even started but it never should have even started!
Hoffman begins to wildly flail towards the ropes, desperately trying to get his hands on them, but he is fading fast. Referee Chris Mardinly, clearly unhappy about having this match in the first place as Jaice Wilds is being stretchered on the outside of the ring, holds up Hoffman’s arm, which immediately drops.
Wright: Daku is steamrolling Hoffman because Hoffman never even saw him coming!
Park: Neither did Jaice!
The arm drops again pretty quickly. The third drop is just a formality. The bell rings, and the crowd lets out a loud ball of hatred and booing as Daku Suzuki gets his hand raised. Stanford’s announcement is his most lackluster of the evening.
Stanford: Here’s your winner, Daku Suzuki.
The crowd boos as the referee reluctantly raises Daku’s arm. He rolls outside of the ring to get back on his bike.
Wright: Suzuki made short work of his opposition in this one--
Park: --he ran them over, Oliver!
Wright: Quite literally. I’m sure he’ll have his eyes glued to that Spark Championship match.
Park: I hope they don’t let him compete! You can’t just run a guy over!
Daku Suzuki thankfully doesn’t hit the stretcher or anyone assisting Jaice Wilds as he rides past Wilds being stretchered back up the ramp. A few assistants do have to jump out of the way, though.
Stanford: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and the winner will be advancing to the X*Crown Main Event at Night of Champions 12! Introducing first, from Detroit, Michigan. Weighing in at 238 pounds and representing The BANG! Bros, he is "The Face of The Franchise" STEEEEEEEEVE AWESOOOOOOOOOOME!
All the lights in the arena die out and the fans in attendance start chanting his name.
"AWE-SOME! AWE-SOME! AWE-SOME!"
Dramatic pause.
"REGRETS I'VE HAD MINE!"
The lights in the arena explode to life as they flash green and black to the beat as Steve Awesome comes running out with intensity to the hyped up chorus of "Full of Regrets" by Danko Jones.
Lonely nights/ and a whole lot of wasted time!
If you see her wont you tell her for me/
It's better this way to avoid all the misery
The chorus plays again as Steve walks down to the ring, holding a briefcase in his hands. The very same one that killed Spike Kane years ago. The guitar starts soloing and Steve hops into the ring and he provocatively slips off his jacket and then spins and drops into a kneel and he flexes his arms. He gets a slow motion effect as pyro sprays behind him, flexing as the briefcase is dropped by his feet.
Angel: This isn't exactly a fair matchup for the BANG! Bros! Two members of the team going against one another? It's outrageous!
Hawke: Regardless of who pulled which straws, this isn't Steve's first rodeo in this scenario! The only ever 2-time Call to Arms winner is going to make right the wrongs of last year by winning this time!
Angel: I wouldn't be so sure of that, do you know who he's fighting?
As if on cue...
Stanford: And his opponent, from Belfast, Ireland. Weighing in at 240 pounds and representing The BANG! Bros, he is "The Blood God" SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE KAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!
The lights go out as the beginning of "Bow Down" by I Prevail plays through the PA system, as a circle of flames erupts on the stage. Through the flames, slowly emerges Spike Kane as he fully emerges, the song kicks in.
"GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BOW DOWN!!!"
Spike steps through the flames and heads to the ring, taking off his jacket as he prepares for a fight.
Angel: The Spiked One is ready for a fight! No matter who's in front of him, he's going to conquer all to win the X*Crown!
Hawke: He's hot off the Match of the Year, a bloody bout against Jesse Jamester and Dylan Black! He may have lost but that won't deter him! Besides, who knows what condition he's in after that bloodbath!
DING DING! DING DING!
The bell rings and there's a tension in the air. Steve picked up that briefcase again and is refusing to let it go! The referee on standby is arguing with him but he pushes the ref out of the way, he charges at Spike, swinging the case! Spike rolls underneath it! Steve turns around, SPIN KICK FROM THE GOD OF EXTREME! STEVE CRUMPLES AS SPIKE STACKS HIM UP!
ONE...
TWO...
THR-FOOT ON THE ROPES! STEVE GOT A FOOT ON THE ROPES!
Angel: The one that almost got away!
Hawke: Spike was about half a second away from taking this match!
Angel: After that heartfelt loss at the Birthday Show to Jesse, he is really going to work for a win tonight!
Spike picks Steve up and Irish whips him into a corner, laying into him with brutal chops turning Steve's chest a bit red like Kira's favorite RAW meat! Steve kicks Spike in the thigh, stunning him for a moment before he kicks Spike right in the jaw! Spike stumbles back a bit, holding his face as Steve begins his assault! He hits a running neck breaker on the Blood God to flatten him on the ground before following up with a standing splash! He makes a pin of his own!
ONE...
TW-KICKOUT!
Angel: Oh come on! That shouldn't have even gotten a one-count!
Hawke: We don't know what kind of condition Spike's in after the Birthday Show, I have to assume he's probably in a world of pain right now, and he has to fight Shane Locke tonight!
Steve slaps the mat and yells at the ref, demanding to know why he's screwing the Face of the Franchise over! This is unfair dammit! He turns and stomps a mudhole in Spike Kane, yelling profanities as he goes. He runs to the corner, jumping up and laying across the top rope for a quick snooze, then stands up and hits a elbow drop off the top! Oooooh yeeeeah! He pins Spike again!
ONE...
TWO...
KICKOUT!
Steve just gets madder, he shoves the ref back and goes to stomp on Spike! But Spike grabs his leg and rolls him over, synching in an ankle lock! BURNING HELL, HE CALLS THAT! SPIKE'S GOT STEVE TRAPPED IN A HELL-PORTAL WITH NOWHERE TO GO! JUST YANKING THAT LEG OF STEVE!
Hawke: This could be it! We could see Steve get put away here!
Angel: I dunno, that Steve is a slippery bastard! Never know when he could trip you up!
And slippery he is! Steve did his homework and saw Spike use this move, and decided to make his boots easy to slip out of! And Steve just pulls his foot free! Spike stands there in shock before Steve turns around, SUPERKICK! SPIKE MOVED OUT OF THE WAY! SUPERKICK FROM SPIKE, BUT STEVE MOVES OUT OF THE WAY! THEY BOTH REAR BACK, DOUBLE SUPERKICK! CONNECTS! SPIKE FALLS TO HIS FEET AND STEVE JUST KIND OF WOBBLES, HE TEETERS, LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT RECOVER? He does! He turns around, gives a thumbs up to the camera and laughs about those thigh slaps, then just Flair Flops on the ground! Woo!
Angel: This could be anyone's game here!
Both men kind of fumble to their feet, forgetting where they are and why they're there! They turn and see each other, and the bombs fly again! Lefts and rights are traded as they dual for the slot at Night of Champions! Spike charges for a BLOODY SUNDAY, but Steve decks him with another SUUUPERKIIIIIIIIIIIICK! Steve turns to the camera.
Awesome: Ha ha did you hear that thigh slap echo in this place? I bet Spike is dead!
Steve then goes for a running elbow, but Spike sits up! This just causes Steve to pick him up and scoop slam him back down! He drops that running elbow, then runs for a senton onto the Spiked One!
Hawke: Steve's building up some momentum!
Steve bounces off the ropes once more, before doing that slow cocky Flair strut, dropping a knee on Spike! He poses for a pin, but his own shoulders are on the mat! The ref can't count that, that'd make a confusing mess! Steve just rolls his eyes and climbs to the top rope looking to end it! He leaps off, MOONSTOMP! WRATH OF THE DRAGON! NO, SPIKE MOVED OUT OF THE WAY, STEVE LANDS ON HIS FEET AND ROLLS THROUGH!
Angel: That was close, Steve could have won it there!
Hawke: Oh yeah, but watch out! Here comes Spike!
As Steve turns around, Spike charges, BLOODY SUNDAY! BLOODY SUNDAY! NO! STEVE PULLED THE REF IN THE WAY! WHAT A DESPICABLE SCUMBAG! As Spike shakes his head and turns to Steve, STEVE HAS THE BRIEFCASE AGAIN! HE CHARGES AT SPIKE AND SWINGS IT! SPIKE DUCKS, AGAIN! STEVE TURNS AROUND AND SPIKE KICKS HIM RIGHT IN THE BABYMAKER! STEVE'S EYES BUG OUT AS THE GOD OF EXTREME TAKES THAT BRIEFCASE, AND SMASHES IT RIGHT OVER STEVE'S HEAD! CRRRRRRRRRACK!
Spike is quick to toss the broken case to the side, and makes his way to the ref helping him to his feet. He then helps Spike alllllll the way up, SPIKE IMPALER! SPIKE PLANTS STEVE RIGHT ON HIS HEAD DEAD CENTRE IN THE RING AND COVERS HIM WITH AUTHORITY! THE REF MAKES A (slow) COUNT!
ONE...
...
TWO...
...
...
THREE!
DING DING! DING DING!
Angel: He did it! Spike's going to Night of Champions!
Stanford: The winner of this match, and going to the main event of Night of Champions 12, SPIKE KANE!
Hawke: Despite his short comings a few days ago, Spike has now locked in his chance to escape Hell and become the X*Crown Champion!
Angel: Yeah, but one must think that Jesse Jamester is going to keep a very close eye on what transpires at Night of Champions.
Are you ready?
RAINBOWS by Alice Nine plays as the crowd begins cheering at the familiar whispered question before the guitars hit. They grow even more excited as the X-Crown Champion, MYŌJIN, begins walking from the entrance with a smile on their face- dressed in some casual, gender-neutral clothing. The blonde acknowledges the fans and gives out high fives before running down the ramp and hopping into the ring.
MYOJIN holds their custom, purple leather and vibrant gold flamboyant championship in the air proudly- the audience letting their approval be heard again as the champion smiles before walking over to pick up a microphone.
MYOJIN: HELLO, PHILADELPHIA! It's been a few weeks!
They start, stopping as the many attendees positively respond with their energetic outbursts. The Shining Star begins pacing, draping their championship over their shoulder.
MYOJIN: You know, I still can't believe it. Even while I'm right in front of you all, this still almost kind of feels like a dream- until I remember how real all of this. How real your support has been toward me and this company. How real going to Battle of the Best and making Misha Constantine tap out was!
They smile confidently while patting the golden, reflective main plate of their title.
MYOJIN: I got to play Godkiller for a second time within XHF, but against him? I was pushed as far as I could go- and I still won… But I'm not here to brag, I've done enough of that, right? I'm here because I made a promise to FIRESIDE- that when I won this belt, I was going to lead not just this company but the entire Network to a bright future- and I intend to keep that promise.
MYOJIN: I won the X-Crown, that was step one. Step two? I'm going to be defending the GREATEST award in the XHF at the GREATEST global PPV in the XHF on its 20th anniversary… No pressure, right?
They jokingly make a nervous expression, the audience laughs a bit before MYOJIN's playfulness dies down.
MYOJIN: A year ago, I would've felt overwhelmed being on top of the mountain- with everyone else coming for me… But honestly? It's kind of exciting. Speaking of exciting, how have you all been enjoying Overheated?
Another positive reaction. The Shining Star simply grins in response.
MYOJIN: I know, right? This show has been incredible so far- everyone from FIRESIDE and other places on the Network has been giving it their all. I see all these matches tonight qualifying for a shot at me and this championship at Night of Champions. Some of them are former X-Crown Champions looking to win it again, others are ones going for their very first chance at it- and I'm not going to lie, I've been paying close attention.
MYOJIN: Each and every one of them is very, VERY good. There's no doubt about that- and I'm excited to soon share the ring with them in what'll be a crazy fight- but I'm not just happy to be here. I'm not going to pretend that I feel lucky and grateful to even be in this position, no- I intend fully on RETAINING this no matter how many people I'm put up against. I'm going to represent FIRESIDE the best way I can- and that's fight with all my heart.
MYOJIN: One, two, three, four, five, six other wrestlers- It doesn't matter. The odds have been against me before- it's never scared me then, it sure as hell won't scare me now. So if any of them are listening right now- which let's be honest, I know you are, I have only a few words to say to you.
The champion turns toward the hard camera.
MYOJIN: I'll be waiting for you, boys. Don't disappoint me, m'kay?
MYOJIN winks at the camera, climbing up the turnbuckle to raise their championship in the air- pointing toward it, then toward the crowd- just like how they celebrated their title win at FIRESIDE's last pay per view as they soak in the love from the fans- before dropping down, and rolling out the ring, a smile on their face as they continue to hold the belt up high while leaving.
Wright: The champ's confidence is at an all-time high, will he regret it?
Park: You don't get to the top of the mountain without believing in yourself! Best of luck MYOJIN!
Stanford: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is one of the Overheated X*Crown qualifiers! Introducing first, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds, he is the Best Kept Secret… SCOTT HAMPTON!!
With the sounds of “33rd Blakk Glass” by City Morgue playing through the speakers, the lights shine down onto the stage as the lyrics begin to be heard.
“Yeah
Godzilla with the microwave, causing heatwaves
Ziggler with the suplex slam, make the ground shake
Y'all do too much, feeling pain, you move too much
Proceed like sorry, not sorry”
Soon, the curtain opens wide for the arrival of Scott Hampton as he stands at the top of the ramp with a cocky smirk on his face. Nodding his head to the bat of the song before beginning to make his walk to the ringside area.
“Shell popping through the mouth, he can send the bricks too
Got an addy for the touchdown, when I get through
Pussy boy, kill that noise
All that bull, get who?
Listen you a bitch, I'm a pit bull”
Hampton walks around the ring, glancing inside the ring and not paying any attention to his opponent as he continues to slowly circle around the ring and then climb up the ring steps, walking along the ring apron and looking out to the crowd with a blank expression on his face. Scott brushes his feet along the apron before entering through the middle ropes and doing his slow walk around the ring, not hopping up any corners or posing to the fans like anyone else would do, just standing there and undressing from the leather ring jacket he wore.
Hawke: Representing Next Level Wrestling!
Angel: Hampton hasn’t gotten that first check mark on his resume, but how wild would it be if the first title he’s ever won ends up being the X*Crown.
Hawke: NLW has had the X*Crown change hands on their show, but no one has held it while being an active NLW wrestler. We’ll have to see how this goes.
"Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" hits the arena as an imitation sandstorm is created in the entranceway and Aiden Merric emerges from it chewing nicotine gum and wearing a smug ass smile on his face. He spits the gum and puts a patch on his arm before stretching and walking to the ring with a purpose. He rolls into the ring and stretches on the ropes. The referee stops him and removes his various blades, ropes and other hunting equipment as he smirks. He then cracks his neck, waiting for the bell.
Stanford: And his opponent, from Coober Pedy, Australia, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds, he is the Wonder from Down Under… AIDEN MERRIC!!
Hawke: And now he’s representing… ugh, AWF.
Angel: I mean, they’re closed now. You can stop piling on the hate.
Hawke: Fine, fine. I’ll try to be fair to him. Merric isn’t so bad.
Angel: That’s the spirit!
DING DING DING!
The bell rings as the two fairly disliked competitors from overseas start to measure one another up. Hampton takes the first step with a quick kick to Merric’s midsection. Merric responds with an uppercut to the jaw of the Best Kept Secret. Hampton stumbles back but charges with a dropkick that knocks Merric off his feet.
Hawke: This is a match between two strikers!
Angel: So expect a lot of hard hits!
Hawke: And likely not a whole lot else!
Angel: I mean, Aiden Merric has been working on his finer… wrestling moves.
Merric doesn’t have too much time to recover until he is hit with a rolling elbow. After a pump kick, Hampton goes for the cover.
ONE!!
TWO!!
NO!!
Hawke: Not quite yet, Scotty!
Angel: The final AWF X*Crown representative stays in the match!
Hawke: I mean, it was early to be too concerned.
Angel: You never know though.
Merric gets up with a fire lit underneath him as he starts throwing wild punches out of anger towards the Irish youngster. After being warned of disqualification, Merric hits something that would have been surprising to see from him a year ago.
Hawke: Oh, a suplex. So he can do that.
Angel: Told you! He’s been learning actual wrestling moves! Have you not been watching… wait, dumb question. Forget I asked.
After Hampton’s body shakes the ring, Aiden Merric quickly turns to get his own cover.
ONE!!
TWO!!
NO!!
Hawke: Does anyone ever think these early pin attempts ever lead to anything?
Angel: I mean, are they really hurting anything?
Hawke: Yeah, wasting my time. Hit your opponent again.
Aiden Merric gladly obliged with Hawke’s request to hit his opponent again by dropping an elbow on the midsection of Scott Hampton. Hampton flails upon the impact of the elbow before being yanked back to his feet. Merric grabs Hampton for another suplex… BUT HAMPTON COUNTERS!!
Angel: Ouch! Neckbreaker to the knee!
Hawke: He twisted Merric around and DROPPED him!!
Hampton climbs the top rope as Aiden Merric tries to figure out what just happened. The moment he gathers his bearings, Hampton is already flying off the top rope.
Hawke: Aiden Merric is in trouble!!
Angel: Diving meteora!!
Hawke: Okay, THIS cover means something!!
ONE!!
TWO!!
TH...NO!!!
Hawke: Or maybe not but it felt worth trying.
Angel: Interesting change of heart.
Hawke: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
But Scott Hampton wasn’t letting the momentum leave him. He drives his knee into Merric’s chest a few times, making sure he has the former XHF Phoenix Champion unable to fight out of the next move. All of this was setting the table to drop Merric on his head with the Lean Into the Darkness. Cover by Hampton!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THR...NO!!
Angel: Aiden Merric really wants this.
Hawke: So does Hampton, but neither of them are letting the other get it easy.
Angel: Either way, the match continues!
Hampton looks at Merric, frustrated at all the kickouts so far. He climbs the top rope once more and wants to hit the Storm Breaker… BUT AIDEN PULLS HIS FOOT UP!!
Angel: OUCH!!
Hawke: Right in the jaw!!
Angel: Hampton might need to be on a liquid diet after that one!!
Merric bounces off the ropes and lands his Stun Gun on Scott Hampton. Cover by Merric now!!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THR...NO!!
Angel: And now it is Scott Hampton’s turn to kick out of a signature move.
Hawke: I mean, usually how wrestling matches go.
Angel: Stop being a buzzkill.
Merric gives a smirk to the camera as he realizes the match is still ongoing. As both men fight to their feet, Merric delivers a Bag and Tag to Hampton, which sends him right into the corner. That’s when Merric’s eyes really light up and starts machine gunning his chops to Hampton’s throat.
Angel: Is that a knife?
Hawke: That is indeed a knife.
Angel: Noted.
Merric starts showboating a bit before landing his last chop. Perhaps he shouldn’t have as Hampton saw this as an opening for him to make his move…
Angel: LOST CAUSE!!
Hawke: Aiden Merric is in trouble!! Cover!!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE...NO!!!
Angel: Aiden Merric, somehow someway, is still in this!
Hawke: Hampton can’t believe it.
Scott Hampton shakes his head before lifting Merric to his feet. Merric takes advantage of the angles to get an eye rake in that the referee can’t see. While Hampton is blinded, Merric whips him into the ropes and right into the move he is hoping to send him to the X*Crown Match at Night of Champions.
Angel: Contract Fulfilled!! And he’s hoping this gives him a contract in the main event at Night of Champions.
Hawke: Here’s the cover!!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
DING DING DING!!
Stanford: Here is your winner and moving on to the main event of Night of Champions… AIDEN MERRIC!!!
Tucker Bernard can be seen celebrating backstage as Merric has his arm raised in the center of the ring.
Angel: Aiden Merric was often the butt of jokes for not being a very good technical wrestler. But he’s worked hard to hone his craft, became the longest Phoenix Champion, and is now on his way to Night of Champions to try to be the next X*Crown Champion.
Hawke: So you’re gonna ignore the eye rake? Fine. Congrats. I’d prefer him over half these people anyway.
Hawke: Up next is what could well be the most brutal match we'll see tonight. A rapidly escalating grudge has spilled over from SWAT's Anzac Cup and made its way to Overheated.
Angel: I'm gonna need the strong stuff for this one ~dons a beer hat with two bottles of absinthe in it~
Hawke: [sighs] Let's throw it over to Walter Stanford.
Angel: Oh THAT'S Walter! Well thank goodness, I thought maybe Bonnie was sick or something.
Indeed, Stanford is mid-ring, mic in hand.
Stanford: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is non-title and is an inter-promotional street fight. There are no disqualifications; the only way to win is pinfall, submission, or referee stoppage. Introducing first...
The lights go down, and then come up an angry red. Flames explode from the either side of the ramp, jets of flame erupting into the air. Donzig walks from the back, wearing his skull mask with his hood up, a chair in hand. He pauses, glaring out across the crowd before he shakes his head before walking down the ramp slowly.
Stanford: Representing SWAT and the KGB, weighing in at 215lbs and hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania... DONZIG!!!
Donzig circles around the ring, still watching the crowd before pausing to watch the announce team before he climbs the stairs. He stops at the ropes, reaching up to shove his hood back before stepping through the ropes. Then he takes off the mask, and shakes his head at the fans with a scowl. He sends the nervous looking Bonnie from the ring with a gesture, then sets the chair up and sits mid-ring, watching the entrance way.
Hawke: No two ways about it, Donzig is a dangerous man. In a short time he's made quite an impact in the XHF, and this challenge he's set himself will only increase his profile.
Angel: You've got to put yourself out there and then back your words up to get ahead, Joey, and Donzig has done both. But tonight might be the night he's bitten off more than he can chew [sips] Oh that's the good stuff. I can taste the wormwood.
Now by the time keeper, clearly glad to be away from Donzig, Bonnie continues.
Stanford: And his opponent...
"ALL CONTROL ARTS RELEASED - GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL"
The arena lights pulse red as BFG Division 2020 rips and tears through the speakers, the fans on their feet and cheering.
Stanford: Formerly representing the AWF, weighing 195lbs and hailing from Reading, Berkshire, England, the reigning XHF Junior Heavyweight champion... BLOODIED FOX!!!
Hawke: For the first time in his two years on the XHF Network, Bloodied Fox is without a home as the AWF has shut down, but he's a competitor who is defined by his ability to bounce back from adversity stronger than before. This increasingly personal issue with Donzig could be the perfect way to set the stage for the next part of his career.
Angel: Umm, this may be the absinthe kicking in really fast, but I can't actually see Fox.
Indeed, no-one steps through the curtain, sending confused murmurs through the crowd. Donzig meanwhile simply grins from his seat, mouthing “Coward”. Focused, he doesn't hear the murmurs turn to cheers as a figure jumps the ringside barricade behind him and then leaps to the apron. Seemingly effortlessly, he springboards from the top rope, turning in midair and taking Donzig clean off the chair with a hurricanrana! The fans erupt as Bloodied Fox rolls to his feet, saluting them. Clad, as is street fight tradition, in jeans and t-shirt with taped fists, though with kickpads over his boots, Fox follows up quick on the rising Donzig, grabbing the back of his head to hold him in place as he rifles in Kawada kicks to the face.
Hawke: Fox displaying some cunning there to get the drop on Donzig.
Angel: He's gonna have to fight smart to beat a guy like that [sips some more absinthe] I mean, he's made up of at least 50 venomous snakes!
Donzig manages to shake his head free of Fox's grip, rolling away to create spaces before diving in with a double leg takedown. He takes mount and launches punches at the junior heavyweight champion, but Fox manages to block and then turn, placing himself into mount and firing off palm strikes. A couple connect, but Donzig manages to squirm out from under, pushing Fox away with his legs. Regaining his feet, Donzig arm drags Fox, but as he charges in to follow up is met with a back roundhouse kick. Seeing his opponent staggered, Fox then connects with a dropkick. With Donzig now reeling back against the ropes, Fox fires him off with an Irish whip. Fox positions himself to back body drop Donzig onto the chair he was sat in moments before, but the Australian slips round, spinning Fox as he does so and taking him down with a drop toe hold that brings the Englishman's face into the steel with a vicious clang.
Hawke: This is where it gets dangerous for Fox. In a straight wrestling match I personally think he'd have the edge, but Donzig's sheer brutality means he thrives in a hardcore environment.
Angel: Fox can go extreme when he has to, having fought him in a ladder match last year. Though admittedly there aren't any robot bears in this one.
The reversal gives Donzig the opening he needs. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from Fox's offensive flurry, he begins to pepper his opponent with hard shots as he tries to regain his feet. Not having to worry about the referee objecting to closed fists, he potatoes Fox, and when the former AWF star does manage to get vertical, Donzig takes him right back down with a snap suplex. The crowd boos with gusto as he puts the boots to Fox, the self-proclaimed Scourge smirking disdainfully at them, spreading his arms and asking them if they are not entertained. The louder jeers that draws seem to simply spur Donzig on, pulling Fox up only to immediately hit him with a DDT. He kneels and fires off more hard punches at his opponent, Fox trying hard to cover up but only managing to stop about half the blows. He's then dragged up once more and driven head first into the increasingly dented chair with a double arm DDT. Donzig looks down at the sprawled Fox and chuckles, before rolling outside under the bottom rope.
Hawke: Donzig could very get the pin here. What is he doing?
Angel: This isn't so much about victory for Donzig as it is about breaking Fox apart physically and mentally. I don't think we'll see him go for the pin until he feels satisfied with the damage done.
Hawke: When did you get so insightful?
Angel: Absinthe gives me powers. ~attempts to sip only to realize he's already drained both bottles dry~ Aww crapbaskets!
Donzig reaches under the ring apron and pulls out a metal trash can, inside which is lodged yet another chair. He pulls it out, then tosses both into the ring and slides back in. Bloodied Fox is pulling himself back up, living up to the first part of his name now as blood dribbles from the reopened scar on the bridge of his nose. He gets unsteadily to his feet, only to immediately receive a crushing chair shot to the head! Fox crumples to the mat, only for Donzig to continue raining down shots to every part of the body, the Englishman barely conscious enough to curl up and try to shield his head from further impact. Once content with the barrage of steel, Donzig tosses the chair aside and grabs the trash can, which he sets on its side by the fallen Fox. Pulling him up with the can between them, Donzig hooks Fox's arms and rotates...25:17 INTO THE TRASH CAN!!!
Angel: Yowch!
Smashed face first into the can, Fox lays motionless in the dent his body's made. Donzig, however, is not so still, shifting aside the set up chair from earlier to clear a path to the ropes and turning Fox over, the can now covering him. The crowd is split between booing what they suspect is coming next and begging Fox to get back up. Donzig sneers at them either way and runs to the ropes...
Hawke: LIONSAULT!!!
Angel: AND ALL IT GETS IS TRASH CAN!!!
The crowd cheers as Fox rolls clear the moment Donzig takes flight, leaving him to crashing into the can. Pulling himself up with the help of the ropes, the battered and bleeding junior heavyweight champion takes a deep breath and then smacks his own face Ken Shamrock style, firing himself up. As Donzig gets to his feet from crashing and burning on the lionsault, Fox charges him, ducking underneath a clothesline and sliding round behind...
Hawke: FOX TRAP SUPLEX INTO THE TRASH CAN!!!
The can is practically a flat sheet of metal by this point from the repeated impact of human bodies, as Donzig's neck and head are driven into it hard. The sheer force of impact practically pops him back up to his feet, but all that does is allow Fox to rush in and get behind him once more...
Hawke: SAITO SUPLEX THROUGH THE SET UP CHAIR!!!
The chair is finally obliterated by Donzig being back suplexed onto it, collapsing into its constituent pieces. Randy unscrews a bottle, downs half, then pours the rest on the floor.
Hawke: ...Do I even want to know?
Angel: Pouring one out for my homie. Rest in power, steel chair.
Hawke: No, no I did not want to know.
It's Bloodied Fox who now heads to the outside. But rather than look under the ring, he heads straight to the announce table, thankfully not slipping on the puddle Randy has just made honoring the fallen.
Fox: Randy! The bag!
Angel: Huh? Oh, right...
Randy reaches under the desk and pulls out a Crown Royal bag that he tosses to Fox. As Fox returns to the ring, Hawke looks at his colleague.
Hawke: Randy! We're commentators, we're meant to be neutral!
Angel: Come on, I'm friends with his husband, and everyone knows that underneath the ring is a dark and evil dimension filled with pain, suffering, and demonic clown midgets! I just offered to hold the thumbtacks for him!
Hawke: Thumbtacks?
Indeed, having kicked the remains of the trash can and steel chair to the outside, Fox then opens and upends the bag to pour hundreds of thumbtacks onto the mat, the crowd cheering at the escalation in weaponry. Tossing the bag to a lucky fan, Fox then heads over and grabs Donzig, who has just gotten back to his feet, clutching the back of his neck. Steering him to the edge of the glistening sea of pins, Fox waistlocks Donzig and lifts for a belly to belly suplex... only to take a facefull of black mist! Fox clutches at his face as the sinister gunk blinds him, leaving him open...
Angel: POP-UP POWERBOMB ONTO THE THUMBTACKS!!!
The crowd give audible gasps of revulsion as the sightless Fox writhes in agony. Black liquid oozing into his beard, Donzig gives a nauseating grin of dark stained teeth before reaching down, turning Fox over, and hooking his legs, locking him in the Pennsylvania Cloverleaf! The referee, having spent the entire match so far staying out of these two lunatics' way, positions himself on the outside so as to have a clear view of Fox, asking him if he submits. Fox struggles, trying hard to get his legs free, only to find that Donzig has locked the hold in deep. Realising he's only got one option, Fox grits his teeth, raises his hand...And starts dragging himself through through the thumbtacks towards the sound of the ref's voice.
Hawke: Oh wow. That's just plain uncomfortable to watch.
Angel: Yep. Time to numb the soul some more. ~opens a bottle of vodka and takes a long swig~
The fans give what can only be described as revolted support, urging Fox on as he pulls himself towards the ropes, each grasp at the mat for purchase driving yet more tacks into his hands and forearms. Donzig, for his part, maintains the hold but doesn't lean back as much as he could to stop the desperate crawl, as though intrigued to see if Fox can actually do this. The referee, meanwhile, is desperately trying to explain to Fox that there's no rope breaks in a street fight. As Fox reaches the bottom rope to the roar of the fans however, it becomes clear he knows this too, as he pulls himself up them, shifting the angle and forcing Donzig to break the hold. The Australian stares at his opponent as he leans against the rope, his expression a curious mix of respect and annoyance. With Fox still blinded by the mist, Donzig retrieves the chair he brutalized him with earlier, as the ref desperately sweeps away as many of the thumbtacks as he safely can. Methodically, Donzig lines up his shot, rears back... and hits the top rope as Fox spins aside, the chair bouncing back and smashing Donzig in the face with enough force to drop him to his knees.
Hawke: My god! That had to have been pure instinct!
Angel: Or Ringdar.
Hawke: Ringdar?
Angel: Yes, it's like Gaydar, but for wrestlers. Which I guess means Fox has both, the lucky devil.
Clearly not wanting to rely purely on whatever it was that allowed him to dodge the chairshot, Fox pulls off his t-shirt and uses the parts not studded with thumbtacks to wipe his eyes, before throwing it out to the crowd to give someone a gross memento. Bleeding from dozens of tiny wounds on his back and chest, and with lower arms now 60% covered in thumbtacks, the bedraggled Fox glares at the kneeling Donzig.
Fox: Tell the Void I said hi, motherfucker!
Fox charges in and hits Donzig with the Vulp Trigger! He doesn't allow him to hit the mat before grabbing him up and setting him in pumphandle position... Go2Sanguine! He grabs the wrist and ripcords...
Hawke: BLOODIED RAINMAKER!!!
Fox is straight into the cover, leg hooked...
ONE...
TWO...
THR... NO!!! KICK OUT!!!
Bloodied Fox can only stare at the referee in disbelief, who shrugs back and reiterates the count with his fingers
Hawke: Fox just hit Donzig with three of his most high impact moves and Donzig kicked out!
Angel: They build them tough in SWAT, Joey, and there may be none tougher than Donzig.
Standing, Fox moves to the corner of the ring. He stops, clearly deep in thought for a moment. Then he nods and pulls a hip flask from his jeans pocket, opening it and pouring some of whatever's in it onto his right kickpad.
Hawke: What on earth...?
Angel: [sniffing] Ooohhh, Super Sake Shinigami Label! I gave him and Brendan a bottle as a wedding present.
Hawke: Why is he pouring it on his kickpad?
Angel: Maybe he's offering Donzig a drink? Maybe that's how they do it in England?
Fox takes a swig of whatever's left in the flask then tosses it aside. He then produces a lighter from the same pocket, ignites it, and lowers it to his kickpad...
Hawke: You have got to be kidding me!
Bleary from the blows taken, Donzig is back up. He turns to look for his opponent...
Angel: FLAMING QUESTION MARK KICK TO THE HEAD!!!
Donzig falls to his ass, grabbing at his head. Fox clearly applied enough fuel for more than one blow, as the kickpad continues to blaze away. Invoking the spirit of England reaching their first major international tournament final in 55 years, he runs the ropes...
Hawke: FLAMING PENALTY KICK TO THE CHEST!!!
The force of the blow is enough to put Donzig flat on his back and extinguish the kickpad. Fox drops into the cover...
ONE...
TWO...
KICKOUT!!!
Hawke: How can Donzig take this punishment and still kick out?!
Angel: Driven men can do anything. You should see me when they try and tell me it's last orders at the bar.
Fox doesn't waste time arguing. He simply stands, grabs the chair and slams it onto Donzig's burnt chest. He steps out onto the apron, shakes his head as though trying to ensure this isn't just some nightmare he's trapped in, and leaps...
Hawke: CHAIR ASSISTED AIR VULPINE!!!
Fox rolls off, clutching his mid section, but the damage is even worse to Donzig, who starts coughing up blood. Heedless of his opponent's state however, Fox rolls back over, traps Donzig's arm between his legs, and cravate's his head...
Hawke: Lament Configuration! Fox has won all three of his XHF Junior Heavyweight title defenses so far with this move. I don't know if Donzig will tap, but that's irrelevant if he passes out!
Angel: I'll dial up the victory booze order then!
Donzig struggles against the hold, but Fox is the fresher man and his grip is tenacious. The referee gets into position, asking Donzig if he gives, but the Australian simply laughs maniacally, blood spilling from his mouth into the tangled mess of his beard. With all focus on the tableau mid-ring, few notice the hooded figure who emerges from underneath the ring, some long bundle in hand. They slide into the ring, the crowd booing as the hood slips and they realize what's about to happen...
CRASH!!!
Angel: LADY SINCLAIR GODFREY JUST SMASHED A BUNDLE OF LIGHT TUBES OVER BLOODIED FOX!!!
Hawke: Damn it! Donzig's lackey just broke glass all over Fox!
Angel: How did she get past the demonic clown midgets under there?!
Multiple lacerations now bleeding freely on his midsection, Fox lets the hold go, rolling on to his front and crying out in pain. Clearly just getting started, her Ladyship places the still intact ends of the tubes on the mat, before grapevining Fox's legs, grabbing his arms and lifting...
Hawke: WITCH'S HAMMER INTO THE GLASS!!!
Fox is left laying in a pool of his own blood as the crowd boo furiously at the interfering aristocrat. Ignoring both the reaction and the downed Fox, she turns her attention to helping Donzig back up. Concern and affection in her eyes, she checks his injuries, but he simply brushes off her attentions, simply motioning to under the ring. Nodding, she returns to the outside and begins retrieving implements from under the ring. First a barbed wire board with a couple of small explosive charges on, which she slides into the ring. Donzig then carefully sets that up in the corner of the ring, while Lady Godfrey pulls out first one, then another table with light tubes attached to the entire surface. The first goes into the ring as well, while the second she sets up on the outside. Satisfied with that, she returns to the ring, looking to assist Donzig erect the second. Their attention is diverted, however, by the cheers of the crowd as another figure comes rushing down the entrance ramp...
Hawke: Brendan Harding! Fox's husband has seen enough and he's here to even the odds!
Angel: Wooooo!!! Go B-Dawg!!!
The Doctor of Zen slides into the ring and clocks a charging Sinclair Godfrey with a superkick! As she reels back, he explodes forward and hits Donzig with the Thanix Cannon, absolutely flattening him! Lady Godfrey goes for a clothesline, but it simply bounces off the furious Camden native. He grabs her... Zen Driver! Not done, he pulls her up and powerbomb lifts her onto his shoulder...
Brendan: Say goodbye, bitch!
KABOOM!!!
Angel: TECH ARMOUR DETONATION INTO THE EXPLODING BARBED WIRE BOARD!!!
Certain Godfrey will play no further part in the match, Brendan turns to check on his husband, only to find himself face to face with Donzig.
Donzig: Goodbye, bitch.
Gut kick! Event Horizon! The stunner flips Brendan, and Donzig wastes no time dragging him up and to the ropes..
CRASH!!!
Hawke: POP-UP POWERBOMB THROUGH THE LIGHT TUBE TABLE ON THE OUTSIDE!!!
Angel: NO!!!
Hawke: ~gingerly pats Randy on the shoulder~
Angel: Who am I going to go drinking with tonight now?! ~buries his head in his arms weeping~
Hawke: ~sighs~ Yes Randy, you're the real victim in all of this.
Donzig looks at the carnage he has created outside the ring, before turning back around. He spares no more than a sideways glance at the unconscious Sinclair Godfrey in the tangled mess of wood and barbed wire in the corner before locking his gaze on his opponent. Bloodied Fox is back up, coated almost entirely in his own blood, one eye swollen near shut with a gash running through it. Donzig nods approvingly as the swaying Fox motions for him to bring it own. Using his foot to flick the chair up into his hand, Donzig charges with a roar and brings it down hard on Fox's head...Who barely moves an inch. Blinking, as though experiencing a glitch in reality, Donzig swings again...Bloodied Fox does not even flinch. Perhaps hoping third time is the charm, Donzig goes for another swing, but Fox smashes the chair away with a forearm and then rams his head into Donzig's face with a sickening thud. Disarmed, Donzig cannot stop Fox taking wrist control and getting behind him... Bloodied Rainmaker! Fox retains wrist control... and a second Bloodied Rainmaker!
Hawke: How much longer can these two go on!?
Staring down at Donzig with a baleful glare from his good eye, Fox punt kicks his head before going to the unbroken light tube table in the ring and setting it up. Donzig gets up to all fours in the time that takes, which earns him a punt to the ribs that makes him cough up more blood. Pulling the Australian up by his beard, Fox then wearily hoists him onto the top rope, seating him facing outwards. Looking at the table, calculating, Fox then climbs up behind him, locking Donzig's arms in a full nelson.
Hawke: No... There's no way he can be thinking this, can he?
Angel: Donzig said he wanted to remove the scales from Fox's eyes and make him as ruthless as him. Be careful what you wish for...
The crowd hold their breath in anticipation...
CRASH!
Hawke: TOP ROPE FOX TRAP SUPLEX THROUGH THE LIGHT TUBE TABLE!!!
A deafening chant of “HOLY SHIT!!!” breaks out as both men lay in a mess of wood fragments, glass shards, and blood. Given he took the lesser brunt of the impact, it's Bloodied Fox who stirs first, getting to his knees. He makes no attempt to cover, even as the referee practically begs him to. Instead, he waits until Donzig begins to move, dragging him up to face him with hands gripping his head white knuckle tight.
Fox: Tell me... was this worth it?
Donzig looks at Fox, at the wreckage around them, at himself... and starts to laugh, the demented cackle of the truly deranged. Then suddenly he lunges forward, grabbing Fox's head to pull it to his, and forcibly kisses him. The crowd watch in stunned and appalled silence for the several seconds Donzig maintains the unwanted intimacy. Fox finally manages to break free, a look of furious disgust on his face as Donzig begins to laugh again. Fox's hand goes into the rubble around them... and he stabs Donzig in the shoulder with a large shard of glass! Donzig cries out, turning to look at the improvised blade sticking out of him, then simply starts laughing even harder! His face lit up in murderous rage, Fox lunges forward, both hands wrapping around Donzig's throat, trying to choke him, trying to silence that laugh, but still it gurgles on! Realizing that Donzig's shoulders are on the mat and he's got a chance to end this madness, the ref counts...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!!!
The ref motions for the bell, then throws his entire weight into bundling Fox over and away from Donzig. Exhausted, Fox can't resist, further referees coming out to join in forcibly getting him away from the still laughing Donzig. Sounding nauseated, Walter Stanford makes the announcement.
Stanford: Your winner, by pinfall, Bloodied Fox.
The referees are managing to push Fox back up the ramp as medics attend to Donzig, Sinclair Godfrey, and Brendan Harding. Amidst the chaos, Donzig locks eyes with Fox, gifting him a bloodstained smile and saying loud enough to be clearly heard...
Donzig: Oh yes Fox... It was worth it.
Wright: UnJoo, it’s great to be at Overheated! Wish we were trusted to commentate the rest--
Park: --shhh we’ll get in trouble, Oliver!
Wright: Did they just not like our X-Crown commentary? I could talk circles around that alcoholic. His commentary is actively shit--
Park: --back to the ring!
The camera cuts from the announcers to show Walter Stanford in the ring.
Walter Stanford: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!
Crowd: ONE FALL!
Walter Stanford: Introducing first, accompanied down to the ring by both Evan Valentine Junior and El Rey, representing NEW MONEY, from Attbury, South Carolina, weighing in at 220 pounds, he is “Fatebound” Malcolm Evans!
Malcolm enters to his music, “Cruel Angel’s Thesis” looking very focused/resigned. He heads to the ring trying to look as serious as he possibly can, flanked by Evan Valentine Jr. and El Rey. He does not look even remotely happy to be here in Philadelphia tonight, his hands shaking with nervous energy as he tries to get ready to wrestle the current FIRESIDE world champion.
Wright: Malcolm made his debut at the Battle of the Best, and you just get a feeling he drew the short straw tonight -- and notably, no Vodka Fizz out at ringside with the group!
Park: You try fighting MAJESTY of all people and you see how you feel. I'm not surprised Fizz stayed the hell away from this!
Walter Stanford: And his opponent…
All of the lights in Citizens Bank Park shut off. The crowd’s volume rises; terror, cheers, and boos all mix together to create a cacophony of sound.
Walter Stanford: … ...fr-fr-from the Feywild, weighing in at 183 pounds, they are the FIRESIDE World Champion… they are MAJESTY!
At one point, a quick flash of a projection of Majesty appears standing on one of the staircases in right field, and then just like that, it's gone.
Wright: I can’t believe there are people cheering! They lit a man on fire!
Park: A greedy man who had gotten arrogant and self-serving, Oliver.
A few more rounds of light, you could've sworn you saw Majesty yet again, this time in left field.
And then... the guitars kick in, and a wild, horrifying laugh tears through the arena.
All the lights have changed from ballpark white to a shade of green and yellow, filtering around, and Majesty rises from the stage at the top of the ramp, enshrouded by mist and smoke. They twirl around, revealing a horrifying attire potentially inspired by the Japanese Ori, with two curved horns attaching to their mask, along with solid black holes where there should be eyes. Their usual colorful streams have been replaced with all-red ones to go along with a devilish bodysuit.
Wright: Still terrifying as all get out… and still wearing the same suit and mask combination from their world championship win at Battle of the Best.
Park: If you somehow haven’t seen MAJESTY yet ladies and gentlemen, the Feywild Figure is not one to be missed. Speed, power, raw horror, some kind of magic…
Wright: Listen, I like this Malcolm guy all the same, but I think it would take the entirety of New Money and then some.
Majesty makes her way around the edges of the ring, surprisingly not spinning, and unusually coming down to the ring without the world championship on their person.
Wright: Isn’t it weird that Majesty isn’t carrying the world championship with them?
Park: Maybe they’re keeping it stored somewhere for safekeeping? Evan and El Rey are not exactly morally upstanding; they’re likely to sneak off with the belt at a moment’s notice.
Wright: We’ll see what happens. There’s the bell. This non-title match is on!
The bell rings and “Fatebound” Malcolm Evans seems to finally finish shaking off the nerves as not only does he come forward toward his opponent, but he actually ends up standing eye-to-eye with the Feywild Figure. Malcolm puts a hand up and the two… engage in a test of strength. Evans actually manages to get the upper hand, locking Majesty into a side headlock. The headlock is broken with Evans getting free and being sent bouncing off the ropes, but Evans comes roaring back with a bulldog, planting the Feywild Figure into the mat!
Wright: I’ll give him this, Malcolm Evans seems to have shed his fear and gone right to work, managing to get the world champion down with a bulldog!
Park: Stick and move, stick and move, if Majesty catches him at any point, this one might be over fast.
Malcolm Evans brings himself back up to his feet with the assistance of the ring ropes and you can see the gears beginning to turn in his head, bringing Majesty back up to their feet only to knee them in the stomach to set up for a double-underhook DDT! Majesty doesn’t seem to have a chance of fighting back against Evans’ grip, and they go slamming down into the canvas!
Wright: Turn the Lights Off! Evan Valentine Jr. has to be loving this at ringside! The potential world championship contender may be having his world title match served up to him on a plate at this point!
Park: Oliver, Majesty isn’t moving! Evans might have really dropped them on their head!
Wright: Evans finally goes for the cover!
...ONE!
...TWO!
...THR-NO!
Majesty gets a shoulder up!
Wright: Whoah! Maybe just pure instinct alone as Malcolm Evans manages to get an upper hand on the monster!
Park: I can’t believe what we’re seeing here!
Malcolm Evans sits up and looks… confused? Evans shakes his head as Evan Valentine Jr. and El Rey look on, offering their support and some tactical advice as Malcolm makes his way over to them.
Wright: At ringside, you have Evan Valentine Jr., who just became ‘The Best’ in quite controversial fashion--
Park: --a finale match against a man who had just been basically just sent to hell courtesy of Spike Kane…
Wright: ...if MYOJIN still holds the X-Crown championship after Night of Champions, he’ll be taking on the Shining Star, but if not, a one-on-one with Majesty awaits!
Park: And with how this contest is going, he’s gotta be feeling a bit better about some of his chances!
Evans looks for the right opportunity to lock in a kneebar, trying to grab Majesty’s leg for the Diplomacy Has Failed, but the current world champion is having nothing of it, kicking him away as they make it back up to their feet. Evans seems to hold out their hands and arms to question the Feywild Figure, who curiously enough does not seem to press forward and pursue Fatebound into the corner.
Wright: A more passive Majesty tonight?
Park: Maybe lighting Esmur on fire changed them!
Wright: I don’t think that’s it…
The crowd boos loudly as Malcolm Evans comes back into the center of the ring, this time looking to pull down the Feywild Figure into the First Regret, their version of a Stump Piledriver. Majesty shakes their head no and pulls themselves out of the hold, and Evans responds with a good ol’ fashioned chest chop. Majesty looks down at their chest before roaring back with a stiff clothesline, knocking down their competition, and greatly upsetting Malcom’s New Money teammates at ringside.
Wright: Majesty nearly took his head off with that clothesline!
Park: New Money’s not letting Majesty get even a second of momentum, as they have both jumped up on the ring aprons!
Wright: Out there with Evan right now is El Rey, and he’s been a great asset to New Money ever since he joined up with them at Battle of the Best!
Evan Valentine Jr. and El Rey are both screaming something about a plan as referee Melanie Davenport comes over and yells at them to get off the apron or to get out of the ringside area. They listen to her point but not before Majesty waves a hand at them, waiting for the opportunity to plant the Peacekeeper on Malcolm Evans.
Wright: What the hell were they yelling about? A plan?
Park: Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter--when Majesty locks this claw in, it doesn’t matter what your plan is, you tap out or pass out!
With an over-dramatic flourish, Majesty spins around… into a blue thunder driver from Malcom Evans! The crowd begins to boo loudly as Evans holds up their fingers, counting along with the referee!
Wright: Send the Invoice to God!
Park: Is ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans about to win the biggest match of his life against the FIRESIDE world champion?
...ONE!
...TWO!
...THREE!?!
Wright: YES! WAIT--WHAT?!
Park: NO WAY! WHAT THE HELL?
The loud commotion around Citizens Bank Park is broken up into shock and booing as the FIRESIDE world champion seemingly gets pinned clean as whistle in front of thousands of screaming fans. The booing gets even louder as El Rey and Evan Valentine Jr. join ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans in the ring, shouting at Walter Stanford to announce the winner. Even Stanford can’t really believe it himself, having never seen such a shocking upset in his years and years of experience.
Walter Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, of this non-title match… ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans!
Wright: WHAT THE HELL DID WE JUST SEE?
Park: I ASKED FIRST!
El Rey and Evan Valentine Jr. laugh as they step over Majesty’s fallen body, raising Malcolm Evans’ hand in victory. For some reason, Malcolm’s nerves seem to return to him, even after he just won the biggest match of his life against the world champion.
Park: What does this mean? This has to springboard Malcolm Evans into world title contention, knocking off the champ like this. What kind of weakened state must Majesty be in right now?
Wright: We’re about to find an answer to the first, El Rey and Evan Valentine Jr. have microphones!
El Rey:: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match, beating down that fraud of a champion, give it up for ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans!
The crowd boos even louder. They are not amused.
Evan Valentine Jr: I won the tournament at Battle of the Best. I am the Best. New Money is the Best. And we’ll always have a plan.
Wright: Bold statement from Valentine!
Park: After a win like that, it’s hard to argue otherwise.
Evan Valentine Jr: I will be champion, whether it’s MYOJIN or MAJESTY--
Valentine stops dead in his tracks as the crowd cheers. He holds his throat, wondering how the hell that voice just came out of his mouth and looks worried.
El Rey: What’s the matter? Malcolm just beat them, MAJESTY--
Citizens Bank Park plummets into darkness just as the camera captures the shock on El Rey’s face.
Wright: What the--
A projection of MAJESTY appears on the entrance ramp. It’s difficult to make out in the darkness, but all three members of New Money have armed themselves with light tubes, gesturing for the Feywild Figure to come get some. The projection vanishes, and when the light comes up, an unmasked MAJESTY, not dressed in a full body suit, is right behind them.
Wright: --oh my!
The crowd comes to life as MAJESTY twirls and spins, knocking El Rey flat onto the mat with Sweet Djinn Music!
Wright: MAJESTY looks furious!
Park: I’d be making a hasty retreat right now if I was them!
With the backing of Evan Valentine Jr., ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans takes a swing, breaking a lighttube over the back of the mysterious entity! MAJESTY is still standing!
Wright: My God! That tube just shattered and they didn’t even go down!
Park: Hell hath no fury like a MAJESTY scorned!
MAJESTY spins around again in a fury, knocking Evans down and out with a spinning back elbow!
Wright: Great Wheel!
Park: The blood is pouring but they’re still fighting off New Money!
Wright: I think Evan’s taking your advice!
The camera captures Evan Valentine Jr. scurrying out of the ring and up the entrance ramp, wanting no part of MAJESTY whatsoever. The FIRESIDE World Champion removes the belt that’s been wrapped around their waist, holding it up for their potential challenger to see. They wave for their potential challenger to come back to be looked at, but Valentine wants no part of this.
Wright: The world champion has cleaned house!
Park: But-but-- if that’s MAJESTY, what or who is under that mask in the ring?
With one hoisting motion, MAJESTY lifts Majesty back up to their feet. The crowd watches and then reacts with the Feywild Figure as it isn’t a look of joy they have on their face, but even more anger. They grab the mask and rip it off!
Wright: Wait a minute! That’s not Majesty under there! That’s Nick Von Erich!
Park: New Money did have a plan-- beating Majesty by not beating them at all!
Wright: And the world champion’s none too pleased about it!
MAJESTY scoops up one of the light tubes and takes a look at it, examining the implement of destruction… before using a modified version of the Peacekeeper to ram it into Nick Von Erich’s mouth, and at least halfway down his throat!
Wright: OH GOD!
Park: Von Erich’s choking!
Von Erich wildly flails around in an attempt to escape, but there’s no use as they quickly fade to black, dropping down and passing out in the center of the ring.
Wright: Man and I thought lighting someone on fire was bad...
Park: The world champion with a hell of a statement!
El Rey wisely grabs ‘Fatebound’ Malcolm Evans and the pair groups back up with Evan Valentine Jr., cutting their losses for the day.
Wright: New Money may have just made themselves a powerful enemy!
Park: If I’m Evan Valentine Jr. right now, I’ve gotta be hoping the X-Crown stays in FIRESIDE at Night of Champions, because I would want to stay far away from MAJESTY!
Stanford: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is to determine whom will go on to the Night of Champions main event for the X*Crown! Featuring first, representing us from FIRESIDE, 'Devilish' Donnie Deville!
"Teknopathetic" by Hideki Naganuma begins playing, but no one comes out from the back. After a few minutes, the music is shut off. The crowd boos fiercely.
Hawke: I guess Donnie really is missing.
Angel: Not shocking.
Stanford: ...Ok then. Up next, representing J-ROK but...
He checks his notes.
Stanford: ....From SWAT? OLYMPIA!
“The Olympic March" plays as the tron shows the American Flag which transitions to the Olympic Flag that shows the name Olympia. Red, white and blue flares go off as Olympia appears on the stage head lowered and stands there. She raises her head and starts marching slowly to ringside removing the American Flag and folding it respectfully before doing the same thing with the Olympic Flag. She hands them to the ring attendant and enters the ring. She bows in all four directions in respect to the fans before removing her Olympic Jacket and gold medals before testing the ropes with an intense and merciless expression on her face.
Hawke: You know that Jrok nearly didn’t get a representative to send to Overheated. That would have been a shame.
Angel: And they decided to send Olympia instead of someone like me?
Hawke: Are you even part of Jrok anymore?
Angel: Yes! No? Maybe? You know…I don’t know if I am or not. Another round of shots should set me straight in knowing.
Hawke: Another round of shots? Haven’t you had enough?
An intern sets down two shots of vodka in front of the pair. Randy Angel slides Joey Hawke’s drink in front of himself. He shoots both drinks.
Angel: You know that Olympia showed up at SWAT, claiming to have left Jrok.
Hawke: Are you serious? And she’s out here now to represent Jrok? What a crock!
Angel: Yeah. Olympia has a match in SWAT. So, not only returned to SWAT, but booked. This has been coming for a bit.
Hawke: Then, she should be losing by default. SWAT can’t have two reps!
Angel: I mean, she’s already in the ring now. Might as well let her wrestle, but if she wins it’s for Jrok.
Hawke: I suppose that’s fine.
Bonnie Jenkins: And third to come down to the ring hailing from NPW… ”D”!
The entrance way and stage are bathed in an eerie red glow; the crowd cheers as the beginning chords of "Freak" by Silverchair echo throughout the arena, the drums kick in as the enigma known only as ’D’ steps through the curtains. Walking the stage with purpose, the enigma looks out over the crowd with his watchful gaze as he paces the stage, back and forth. Making his way down the isle, he casually fist bumps fans from time to time, his focus now on the ring, his opponent, and the task at hand. Reaching the ringside area, he circles the ring slowly continuing to fist bump fans as he does. Finally circling around to the ring steps, he uses the steps to reach the ring apron, wipes his feet and enters the ring. Making his way to each corner, ‘D’ stands on the second rope, not posing but looking out over the crowd stoically. After reaching all four corners, ‘D’ hops down and begins stretching, using the ropes for leverage and throwing a few test punches.
Hawke: D is eager to prove himself on the global stage after seizing the NPW Openweight championship.
Angel: Why in this day and age do people go by a single letter? I thought that mess was over with.
Hawke: You could call him the Bankhead Boogeyman. You could call him Black. You could even call him Vengador Oscuro.
Angel: I’m thinking that I’m not going to call him anything, but the silly one letter name.
Hawke: Hey, are there nefarious things going on in Bankhead while D is away?
Angel: Do I care what happens to Bankhead while D is gone? It’s not like the fate of the entire neighborhood could depend on D being there.
Hawke: From what I’ve heard, there have been dumpster fires going on for the past few weeks and people being evicted from their homes. I mean there are a lot of people being bought out of their homes, but some. I’ve heard of people vanishing.
Angel: Neither here nor there. I’m sure these things would have happened with or without D being around.
As the bell rings to start the match, Olympia rushes over to lay into D with punches, but he blocks or deflects each blow with practiced ease. She quickly switches gears, ducking down, and grabbing D by the ankles. D leans into the move, hitting a knee lift to the face that sends Olympia backpedaling. He follows this up with a roundhouse kick to the outside of the right knee, bringing Olympia down to the mat. Olympia jumps back to her feet, grabbing D with a side headlock that she quickly transitions into a full nelson. She begins to bring him back into a full Nelson suplex, but gets dropped into a jawbreaker. Olympia is quickly back to her feet where D goes for a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, but Olympia catches the foot. She pulls D in, hitting a lightning overhead belly to belly suplex! Olympia rushes to the ropes as D starts to get up and goes for a flying roaring Superman punch, but D goes into a backflip that both dodges the blow and gets him into a position where he can wrap his legs around her torso. He brings her over to land her on her head!
Hawke: Lightning fast back and forth action going on.
Angel: How does Olympia pack so much strength in such a little frame?
Hawke: Don’t have a clue.
Angel: And D is super fast.
Hawke: Right?
Olympia gets back to her feet, but is grabbed in an inverted front face lock. Before D can hit the rolling cutter, Olympia spins out of the move. She hits a Japanese arm drag that she transitions into a quick step over armlock. She cranks the pressure on the arm, but D grabs the ropes and forces a break. Olympia steps back as D gets to his feet, moving in for a collar-elbow tie up. She presses him backwards to the corner with amazing strength before whipping him across the ring to slam into the other corner. She follows with a head full of steam to hit a shoulder charge, but D grabs the top ropes and lifts his legs up over Olympia’s ducking head so that she slams into the ring post instead. D twists as he lands on his feet behind Olympia. He pulls her back out of the corner and hits a German suplex before holding onto her and bridging up for the cover!
One
Tw-Olympia kicks out!
Hawke: D with the first pinfall attempt of the match, but it’s a no go.
Angel: Yeah. He’s gonna have to give her the D.
Hawke: Do what now?
Angel: Oh don’t pretend like you don’t know.
D and Olympia quickly get to their feet and D launches into a rush of strikes with his hands switching to his elbows, feet, and knees at random moments to keep her off guard. That is until Olympia seems to stagger forward after a blow to the midsection. She grabs D by the shoulders and delivers a staggering head butt to the eye socket that sends D slamming to the mat onto his back. Olympia gets D up into a military press slam, flips him over while he’s up above her head, and drops him into a back breaker! Olympia kicks the downed D and goes for the pinfall!
One
Two
T-D kicks out!
Hawke: Olympia just not able to keep D down.
Angel: Once she makes him throw up, he might go limp…
Hawke: Oh that’s just wrong.
Angel: You know how it is.
Olympia stands up, watching as D is a little slow to get up. He’s busted open above the right eye socket where Olympia headbutted him with blood trickling down the side of his face. He sneers a little in her direction as she motions for him to come and get her. D launches himself at Olympia, going full speed. Before he can strike her though, he side steps and goes to the side ropes instead where he bounces off the ropes to gain momentum. He comes back, flipping over Olympia’s head as she lunges for an attack. He lands on his feet and hits the ropes, building his momentum again. D comes back at Olympia, his movements nearly a blur to the crowd as he rushes by the confused Olympia, striking her in the rib cage on his way. His momentum carries him back to the ropes where he bounces off of them and comes back with a leg lariat that brings Olympia back down to the mat. D stands by the downed Olympia, panting to regain his strength and watching her. She doesn’t get up right away.
Hawke: How fast is D? That was incredible!
Angel: Being so fast is sometimes bad. I know first hand that she doesn’t like it so much.
Hawke: What are you talking about?
Angel: What are you talking about?
Hawke: How fast D is in the ring?
Angel: I’m talking about…nevermind.
Olympia rolls away and to a crouch, watching D. She lunges at him, catching him off guard. She brings him down to the mat and just wails on him. He gets his legs up and shoves her away with his feet before jumping to his feet. Olympia comes at him with a lariat, but D ducks under the arm, sweeps behind Olympia, and grabs her legs to bring her down onto her face! D sits on Olympia’s back and applies a Straight Jacket! Also known as a "Japanese stranglehold" (goku-raku gatame), "criss-cross stranglehold", "cut-throat", and "cross-armed choke". The wrestler sits on the back of an opponent who is lying face down on the mat. The wrestler then grabs hold of the opponent's wrists and crosses their arms under their chin. The wrestler then pulls back on the arms, causing pressure. The ref checks to see if Olympia will submit, but she refuses. Instead, she exercises some tremendous strength and stands up! She flings herself backwards into a corner, smashing D hard enough to get him to break the hold.
Hawke: How the heck did Olympia manage to stand up while being choked out?
Angel: I have no idea. That was impressive.
Olympia spins around, grabs D, and pulls him out of the corner. She hits an atomic drop that she turns into a face plant in a move she calls “Zeus’ Wrath”! She rolls D over and goes for the cover.
One
Two
Th-D kicks out!
Angel: Olympia knows how to cover that D.
Hawke: What?
Angel: Nothing.
Hawke: You make no sense sometimes.
Olympia jumps to her feet and pulls D up. She whips him into the ropes and goes to the opposite side. They meet again in the middle where Olympia goes for a flying hammerlock takedown! She takes D down and goes to transition into a key lock, but D rolls away and to his feet. Olympia jumps up and catches a roundhouse kick to the side of the head that takes her down to the mat. Olympia gets back up quickly enough, but is grabbed up into a fireman’s carry and then dropped onto her head. D goes for the cover.
One
Two
Thr-Olympia kicks out!
D stands up and pulls Olympia up into an inverted front face lock, looking like he’s seeking the rolling cutter again. This time, Olympia kicks with her feet to jump into the air. She curls her body to wrap D in a head scissors. This causes D to break the hold and Olympia turns to send D to the mat. D is released from the head scissors, rolling back to his feet while Olympia gets up. He does a forward flip into a drop kick that sends her back into a corner. D rushes at her, placing his feet next to her onto the ropes as to climb up quickly to leap high into the air over the corner. Olympia looks up and D plants the heels of both feet directly into her face. D does another flip, landing in the middle of the ring with a superhero landing while Olympia falls onto her face, blood gushing from her nose.
Hawke: That was a smashing impact! Good lord!
Angel: Olympia is just laying there and bleeding onto the mat from her nose. Someone get that chick a tampon!
Hawke: Tampon?
Angel: I saw it in a movie once.
Olympia gets up on all fours, blood raining down to the mat. She snarls and lunges at D, catching him with a spear and taking him down to the mat. She grabs him by the dark red hair with both hands, pulls him up a little, and just bashes the back of his skull into the mat over and over again while streaming blood onto him from her nose. D manages to lock in a claw maneuver onto the back of Olympia’s knee, causing her to let go of his head and wrench her leg out of his grasp. Olympia staggers backwards to the ropes, leaning heavily against them while blood continues to stream from her nose. D is slow to sit up and looks at himself for a moment. He signals to the ref and points out Olympia while saying something. The ref walks over and checks on Olympia, having her tilt her head back while having her apply some pressure to the nose to see about getting it to stop bleeding. D stands up and leans in a corner, waiting.
Angel: Man, I would jump in there and attack her now while she can’t defend herself.
Hawke: But that’s not what D does. He plays it fair. If Olympia kept bleeding, she might have passed out from blood loss. It would have been a tainted victory.
Angel: I suppose, though in some circles a victory is a victory. To even fewer, a tainted victory is the best kind.
Hawke: Not to D it isn’t.
In a few minutes, Olympia stands up straight, no longer bleeding. Though in truth, she looks like the sole survivor of a Slasher movie. Not that D looks much better. Sure, most of the blood isn’t his, but it looks bad. Olympia walks up to D in the center of the ring and puts up a single hand. A clear challenge to a test of strength. D smirks, looking at the crowd, who cheer him on. He accepts with one hand. Olympia gets her other hand up to finish the test of strength. D swallows, looking at Olympia, and accepts! They press against one another, each trying to take the advantage over the other. It isn’t long before the blood loss is telling and Olympia drops to one knee. D cranks on the pressure and the ref checks to see if Olympia will give up, but she refuses. Olympia breaks the test of strength and leaps upward into the air, smashing the top of her head into D’s jaw in a form of jawbreaker. This impact sends D falling backwards into a corner where he uses the ropes as leverage to remain standing. Olympia perches onto the second ropes and begins wailing on D.
Angel: Look at that Olympia just beating on the D.
Hawke: Somehow that sounded perverted when you say it.
Angel: You know it.
Hawke: I don’t really think that’s a good thing.
Olympia finishes by grabbing D and hitting a ddt from the middle turnbuckles! She rolls D over and goes for the cover!
One
Two
Thre-D gets his foot onto the ropes!
Olympia kneels up, looking at the referee in shock, but then getting the fact that D’s foot is on the ropes pointed out to her. She smacks the mat in frustration and gets to her feet. She pulls up D and whips him toward the corner and follows. D leaps at the corner, hitting the top turnbuckle, and SPRINGBOARDING OFF INTO A TWISTING SWANSON BOMB! It levels Olympia and D goes for the pinfall!
One
Two
Three!
Hawke: D with the Petwo Plunge for the finish!
Angel: It was only a matter of time.
Hawke: I think Olympia gave a good account of herself.
Angel: I suppose.
Stanford: Winner of the match and going on to Night of Champions to fight for the X*Crown… D!
Mistress Discipline enters the ring resplendent in her wrestling attire. She raises her right hand and waves to the crowd. Her beautiful long blue sleeves contrast against her untanned hands. She plucks a hair from the sleeve and holds it out to stare at it. Mistress Discipline is clearly not pleased. She holds the hair aloft as she walks to the center of the ring; she sets the hair on the small table in the center of the ring and picks up the waiting microphone.
Mistress Discipline: I demand a rematch. But this time it will be one on one. You hear me, Primal? Your friends will not distract me. No one will derail your coming corporal punishment. My one and only requirement is that you put a shirt on. We know you are incredibly uncouth but for the love of all we hold dear, put a shirt on.
Mistress Discipline plucks another hair from the stomach of her shirt and drops it on the ring. She turns and leaves out the other side.
Wright: UnJoo, are you ready for Primal vs. Mistress Discipline?
Park: That should be a good one! Almost like the time MD kicked the shit out of Timeless!
Stanford: The following contest is a one fall match with a thirty minute time limit! Introducing first representing SWAT, he weighs in tonight at two-hundred fifty-three pounds and stands six foot four inches! He is the reigning SWAT Television Champion, ladies and gentlemen, OXFORD OSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSLAND! !
As the beat from “Elevators” by Outkast pops through the OverHeated arena, Oxford Osland emerges from behind the curtain with a confident smirk plastered all over his face. Osland doesn't bother mingling with the fans at all, as he walks calmly to the ring. Once he arrives, he walks up the stairs and wipes his boots on the apron. Osland enters in between the top and middle rope and does a lap of the ring before getting acquainted with his corner. Osland keeps his eyes focused on his opponent, while waiting for the referee to signal for the bell.
Hawke: A man of many talents, the SWAT Television Champion has slithered his way into Overheated for a chance to go to Night of Champions.
Angel: Oxford Osland is a man’s man, and if you don’t see that Joey, you’re a beta (BURP!)
Hawke: He has the size advantage, the know-with-all, and the ability to be a main draw. Will he be able to pass Curtis Kanyon here tonight though?
Angel: I didn’t know they were testing. Shit!
Stanford: And the opponent, a former XHF Tag Team Champion and one half of Team U.S.A., he hails from Washington, D.C.! Weighing in tonight at two-hundred seventy-one pounds and standing five foot seven inches, the BANG! President, CURTISSSSSSSSSSSSSS KANYON!
"Don't Tread on Me" by Metallica blares over the P.A. Former President Curtis D. Kanyon emerges from the curtain when the cymbal crashes at the 30 second mark. He's got a sledgehammer slung over one shoulder and his Fireside tag team title over the other. Curtis pounds his chest with his fist then raises the hammer in the air. He walks down to the ring, nodding to the fans. He grabs a "BANG!" sign from a fan and shows it to the camera, giving a thumbs up before he tosses it back into the crowd. Curtis then climbs into the ring and goes to the turnbuckles. He climbs a turnbuckle and points to the crowd with his hammer, then hoists it straight up into the air and yells "BANG!" He jumps down and gives his hammer to the ref, ready for action!
Hawke: Kanyon has shown he is a viable threat, his recent XHF Tag Team run is nothing to scoff at.
Angel: He continues to be the same Kanyon we all have grown to love. I still owe him $50, but don’t tell him --- (Checks wallet) Could you spot me a twenty?
Hawke: Uhhh-and here we go, this one is underway folks!
The bell sounds, as Oxford Osland takes his time leaving his corner. An arrogant smirk, Oxford motions ‘shall we’ with his hands, and Curtis Kanyon answers by stepping up in the center of the ring, chest puffed out. Kanyon beats on his chest and challenges Oxford to step up to him, but Oxford Osland walks around Kanyon, making him turn backwards to keep his eyes locked on his opponent. Oxford teases a tie up, shooting through on a single leg and tapping his temple as he walks the ropes behind Kanyon.
Angel: He’s pissing off Kanyon.
Hawke: You would be an expert of that, wouldn’t you?
Angel: I know a thing or two.
Hawke: Oxford is toying with Kanyon’s patience. But as a Former President, Curtis Kanyon is keeping his composure.
Oxford Osland walks around Kanyon, hands up, ready to tie-up again, but grabs the ropes and stretches his arms instead, forcing Kanyon to finally step to him, and the referee getting between them as Oxford puts his leg through to the ring apron. Kanyon mouths something to Oxford Osland, smacking his chest, and motioning for him to come get some in the ring. Oxford tilts his head, thinking about it for a moment on the apron, before he steps back into the ring and uses the corner to lean. Kanyon comes in looking for a tie-up, but Oxford Osland stomps him in the stomach and switches it up quickly, throwing jabs and elbow strikes at the chest of Kanyon, pinning him in the corner. But like putting a bull against a wall, the bull will find a way, and Kanyon grabs the thighs, lifting Oxford up on his shoulder and running spinebuster into the center of the ring!
Angel: The power!
Hawke: Brute force by Kanyon gets him out of the corner, but Oxford is not small man, and he’s blocking those haymakers Curtis is trying to reign down.
Angel: I think Oxford has the Kimora on Kanyon?
Grabbing the elbow mid haymaker, Oxford Osland manages to slip the Kimora on Curtis Kanyon and the crowd dies down, realizing the Former President may be in trouble! Curtis rolls to the side that gives him the best chance at reaching the ropes, but Oxford Osland doesn’t give him an inch, locking the hold on and wrenching it! Kanyon finally gets a boot on the bottom rope, but Oxford Osland won’t break the hold!
1!
2!
3!
4!
Oxford breaks the hold at the maximum count allowed, and rolls over to a knee. Oxford and Kanyon get to their feet. Oxford bounces off the ropes heading full steam and clothesline’s Kanyon and himself over the top rope! Hooking the neck, the two tumble to the outside after smacking the apron with their hips. Kanyon shakes his head as he rolls to his hands and knees. Oxford uses the barricade to pull himself up. A kick to Kanyon’s side lands stiff, and Kanyon jolts up holding his ribs! Oxford goes for another but Kanyon grabs the boot, shaking his head as his eyes grow to the size of golf balls! Kanyon gets to his feet, holding the boot, Oxford gets spun around and Kanyon grabs him by the back, Belly-to-back suplex on the concrete!
Hawke: Delivered with authority!
Angel: XHF medical staff don’t even have the good stuff to treat that one!
Hawke: Kanyon has been a prowling powerlifter, showing that his stature is no deterrent for what he can do.
Angel: Curtis is one of the good ole’ boys, work hard, play harder. Kanyon’s explosiveness is why we love to party with him! Have you seen this man lift kegs with a single arm?
Kanyon grabs Oxford by the neck and drags him towards the ring, Oxford retaliates with a few punches but a heavy forearm sends him to his knees. Kanyon takes an arm and hooks under the armpit, hiptossing Oxford on the outside! Kanyon’s not playing around as he grabs Oxford and rolls him under the bottom rope, using the apron, he climbs up and drops all his weight on the exposed chest of Oxford! Senton splash on the apron from Kanyon! And Oxford falls to the outside once more!
Angel: A cannonball on Oxford! He’s choking for air after that one!
Hawke: Unconvential move from Curtis Kanyon tonight. Maybe he picked that up from his Tag Team run?
Angel: Kanyon is taking Oxford to the steel steps!
Kanyon has Oxford’s neck in his hand as he goes for the steel steps! Boot to steps, Oxford blocks it and pokes Kanyon in the eyes with two fingers! Curtis holds his face as he is momentarily blinded, and Oxford pushes him head first into the ring post!
Hawke: A heinous and arrogant Oxford Osland seems happy with his dastardly actions. Despicable!
Angel: This isnt nee for Oxford, Kanyon should have been prepared for that.
Hawke: How do you prepare for someone poking you in the eyes Randy?
Angel: like this!
Hawke: Folks, Randy is putting his hand straight up and down between his drunk eyes.
Oxford rolls Kanyon into the ring, and slides in, smirking at his handy work. A forearm to the upper back of Kanyon as he rises up, and Oxford hooks his neck, snapping a suplex! But that’s not it, Oxford Osland rolls over, still hooking Kanyons’s neck and rises up, bursting through another snap suplex! Oxford rolls the hips once more, and begins rising to his feet with Kanyon. A third time! Kanyon blocks it! Kanyon with his own suplex! Oxford knees Kanyon in the face and reverses into a DDT!
Angel: What the hell just happened?!
Hawke: Osland shifted after that knee and got his head over Kanyon’s shoulder, and planted his head into the canvas!
Angel: Oh there it is! Dropped this. (Picks up a brown paper bag holding a bottle)
Hawke: Both men are laying on their backs, this has been physical.
Oxford Osland rolls over and lays a hand over Kanyon’s chest. The referee slides in to make the count.
1….
2……
SHOULDER UP! Kanyon survives by an inch. Oxford slaps the canvas as he pulls himself up, the match wearing on both men. Oxford grabs Kanyon’s neck and places him on the middle rope facing the crowd. Running to the opposite side of the ring, Oxford rebounds off the ropes and leaps on the air, straddling the back with his weight as his legs go through the middle ropes and he slides off Kanyon’s back to the outside! this slingshots Kanyon back into the ring, rolling on his back to his knees before falling on his face. Oxford admires a young lady ringside, showing the abs off with a flex.
Hawke: How full of yourself do you have to be?
Angel: Normally two fifths do it for me.
Hawke: Oxford is giving Kanyon time, and thst may not be the wisest move.
Climbing the apron, Oxford steps through the ropes as Kanyon is climbing the ropes on the other side of the ring. Oxford looks confident and approaches Kanyon cautiously, arms stretched out, he goes for a Cobra Clutch! Kanyon ducks down, grabbing the middle rope and shoulder throws Oxford over his back, over the top rope as he pops his hips to put on the Ooomph! Kanyon has bought himself some time. He leans on the ropes, looking down at Oxford’s body laying there. Kanyon slumps down and rolls under the bottom rope, saving his energy. He takes a moment to survey the area, and lifts Oxford up. Irish whip into the steel steps! Kanyon collapses on impact as the frame of Oxford sends the top of the stairs crashing feet away!
Hawke: That patience Curtis had earlier is wearing, and Kanyon is looking to finish this.
Angel: They have been in there 20 minutes already. If I were him I’d be ready for a beer.
Hawke: Kanyon using the ring apron is up and heading towards Oxford.
SMACHK!! Oxford kicks the shin of Kanyon, sending him face first into the steel steps. Oxford grabs Kanyon by the hair and slams his face off the flat steel bottom of the stairs! The referee yells at both men, the count is at seven!
Hawke: Get in the ring!
Angel: I don’t think they heard you Joey, say it louder!
Oxford Osland rolls in under the bottom rope. Kanyon stirs grabbing the apron.
8!
Kanyon lifts a leg up, goes to enter the ring, but Oxford kicks him in the head! The referee yells at Oxford to let him in, and starts the count over for the interference by Oxford.
Hawke: Oxford knew he would make it and kicked him in spite!
Angel: These two are not friends Joey. Oxford rolls with a whole different crew. What you’re seeing is a ruthless man taking every shot he can to weaken his enemy.
Hawke: Did you finally get coffee?
Angel: Yeah, whiskey tastes great with it too!
Hawke: Oh my!
Kanyon rolls into the ring, and Oxford immediately picks him up, hooking him in for the Agony of Defeat! Kanyon reverses, launching himself at the ropes, he comes back looking for THE BANG!
Hawke: LEAP FROG!
Angel: WHAT-THE-!!
Oxford Osland leap frogs Kanyon’s BANG! Spinning around Oxford grabs him by the hair and strikes him in the throat with an elbow! Oxfords delivers an elbow to Kanyon’s chin, and executes the AGONY OF DEFEAT! Hooking the legs tightly Oxford Osland goes for the cover!
1…
2……
3!
The bell sounds with the victory move getting the fall. Oxford Osland shows a confident smile as he gets to his feet, having his arm raised by the referee.
Stanford: Winner of this match by pinfall, OXFORD OSLAND!!!
Angel: What a match! Oxford Osland punches his ticket to Night of Champions!
Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is the Fireside Main Event of the evening and is for the SPARK Championship!
The crowd roars, caught up in the energy of the evening. The first guitar chords hit. Then that voice leading into "A Country Boy Can Survive" by Hank Williams Jr hits over the PA. Almost immediately, pacing in tune with the music is a tall, strongly structured gentleman. He has simple green trunks with double yellow vertical stripes on each side. Black knee pads and tall black boots finish off the simple wrestling ensemble.
Stanford: Hailing from Eugene, Oregon standing 6'3" and weighing in at 228lbs, he is the reigning Fireside SPARK Champion... this is... SHANE LOCKE!
Wright: This is a big night for Shane Locke, if he wins this match he gets a shot at the Fireside World Champion!
Park: I'd love to see this guy in the ring with Majesty. Be like The Devil Went Down to Georgia, but with less fiddles.
Wright: I'm not even sure how to respond to that, Unjoo.
Park: Keep 'em guessing, Ollie.
Locke wastes little time heading to the ring, not bothering with exchanging high fives, not bothering with jibes, simply keeping an eye on the ring. Locke's reddish-brown mullet is capped with a heavily worn John Deere cap and his strong looking but not necessarily "jacked" frame is wrapped with a sleeveless flannel work shirt. He has a thick neck, wide chest and back, body hair evident. He has a frame powered by a lifetime of hard work rather then a gym. His forearms as especially think, capped with gnarled, thick hands and fingers. He takes no time to hit the steps and walk on in, wiping his boots on the apron before stepping in and heading right to his corner. He discards his shirt, throwing it to the side, taking off his hat with some reverence.
Stanford: And the challenger! hailing from Belfast, Ireland, standing 6'4" and weighing in at 240 lbs, he is... SPIIIIIIIIIKE KAAAAAAAANE!!
The lights go out as the beginning of "Bow Down" by I Prevail plays through the PA system, as a circle of flames erupts on the stage. Through the flames, slowly emerges Spike Kane as he fully emerges, the song kicks in.
"GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BOW DOWN!!!"
Spike steps through the flames and heads to the ring, taking off his jacket as he prepares for a fight.
Park: Kane is coming into this match at a bit of a disadvantage after a barn burner of a match earlier.
Wright: The man that conquered death pulling double duty at a show seems in character.
Kane and Locke are completely focused on one another as the ref holds up the title belt. The two men shake hands, but both refuse to let go, getting into each other's face. The referee calls for the bell and, without releasing his death grip on Locke's hand, Kane clips the farmer with an elbow shot. Locke is unphased by the blow, then makes to whip Kane into the ropes, instead pulling the hardcore legend back into a Bale Toss!
Wright: Locke starting off strong with a Bale Toss!
Park: Spike Kane learns why you don't challenge a cowboy to a test of strength!
Locke rolls Kane up.
...One! Two!! Kickout!
Park: Kane with a kickout at two!
Wright: Shane Locke is going to have bring more than that to beat the man that conquered death.
Shane hauls Spike up off the mat by his waist and nails him with a twisting belly-to-belly suplex. Kane rolls away before Locke can try for another pin, but the farmer follows after the icon. Locke grabs Kane again before he can escape the ring, hauling him up by the waist and aiming for another suplex, but Kane clips him in the ear with a hard elbow and slips free.
Park: Kane is showing some signs of life after a dominant opener from the SPARK champion.
Wright: If I know anything about Spike Kane he's got a lot left in the tank.
Park: And I am here for it, Ollie.
Locke shakes his head to clear out the cobwebs after Kane rung his bel, but he turns just in time to catch a superkick right to the point of the chin. The farmboy stumbles back into the ropes and bounces off, managing to stay on his feet. Kane blasts him with a second superkick to much the same result. This time Kane follows up with a german suplex, dropping Locke on his head on the mat.
Wright: What a combination!
Kane goes for a pin, but Locke kicks out before the referee can start the count.
Park: Impressive as it was, it's not enough to take the fight out of the champ!
Kane looks furious, but he scrambles to his feet. Shane starts to get up as well, but Kane stops him with a knee to the side of the head. He pulls Locke up to his feet and gets him in position for Freya's Wings!
Park: Here comes the Destroyer!
Purely on instinct, Locke grabs Kane's legs and reverses Freya's Wings into a brutal Waterwheel slam that echoes around the arena.
Wright: My lord! Did you hear that?!
Park: That can't have felt good.
Locke leans over to pick Kane up, but Kane pulls Locke down into a pinning predicament!
...One! Two!! Kickout!
Wright: Kane almost takes it with an inside cradle!
Park: Neither man is here to lose tonight!
Locke is first up to his feet and he grabs Kane by the throat, but Kane jams his fingers into Locke's eyes. The farmer breaks awak, covering his face, and Kane takes the opportunity to roll out of the ring. The referee is distracted checking on locke, who is clutching at his eyes in the ring. Kane, for his part, looks under the ring for something interesting to use to turn the match in his favor.
Park: The hardcore icon is dipping into his bag of tricks early.
Wright: He has to realize he can't win this match if he's disqualified, Unjoo.
Park: Assuming he even cares about the SPARK championship. Kane already proved he was here to be Washington's attack dog.
Kane pulls a chair out from under the ring, slapping it on the floor and grinning. Locke is back to his feet and comes over to the ropes, leaning over to grab as Kane to get rewarded with a chair shot to the head.
Wright: Kane with a chair shot!
Park: Since Locke was between Kane and the official he didn't see it!
Locke stumbles back, but stays on his feet, trying to shake it off. Kane comes back into the ring with the chair and hits Locke with a running dropkick that knocks him into the referee, and dumps the referee out of the ring. Kane notices the ref is out of commission and grins again. He tees up for another chair shot and swings....
But Locke catches the chair and yank it out of Spike's hands. The farmer looks furious, and glaring at Kane. He looks down at the chair in his hands, then at Kane. The crowd roars for Shane to use the chair, but instead in a stunning display of power, Shane Locke rips the chair into two pieces and throws them out of the ring.
Wright/Park: Holy shit!
Spike looks stunned, but doesn't have much time to dwell on it before Locke nails him with a big boot. He hauls Kane up from the mat and tries for another Bale Toss, but this time Kane manages to get enough of a hold on Locke to hit an awkward-looking stunner!
Park: Thunderstruck!
Wright: Did he get enough of it to close the book on this match?
Kane scrambles for the pin, but Locke kicks out again before the referee can start the count.
Park: Apparently not!
Wright: Shane Lock is proving why he's the champion tonight!
Park: He's so close to a title shot, Ollie. Can you blame him?
Locke is slow to get to his feet after the stunner, despite how quickly he kicked out. Kane looked perplexed, but he rolls out of the ring, going under the apron again. The referee starts to count Spike Kane
Wright: This isn't a hardcore match. Would someone tell Kane this isn't a hardcore match?
Kane comes back out from under the apron, this time with a board with barbed wire stapled to it. The icon grins widely, then wedges it between the apron and the crowd barrier, making sure it's going to stay in place.
Park: Yeesh. Whoever goes through that isn't going to have a fun time.
Kane rolls back into the ring to break the referee's count at three. Locke is back to his feet and charges at Kane, but Kane blasts Locke with Bloody Sunday!
Wright: He had that one scouted!
Park: Never underestimate a hardcore icon!
Kane hauls Locke up to his feet, then sets up for the Spike Impaler. He lifts Locke up, but Locke twista and lands on his feet, shoving Spike into the ropes. He pops Spike up into the air, setting up the pop-up eurpoean uppercut, but instead catches him in a Fireman's carry. Locke lifts Kane above his head in a militar press, his eyes wild, and he spots the board, hurling Kane over the ropes. Kane crashes through the barbed wire wrapped board to the floor,his eyes wide as he processes what happened.
Wright: Kane was wounded by his own petard!
Park: I don't think you're allowed to use that word anymore, Ollie.
Locke shouts at Kane to get back in the ring as the referee starts counting.
ONE!
Kane starts to get to his feet, bleeding from the multiple punctures in his body, but he doesn't hurry to get back in the ring. Locke finally rolls out of the ring, charging at Kane and tackling him into the rinside barrier. He hauls Kane up by the waste in a gutwrench lift and hurls Kane to the floor. Kane manages to grab a pice of the dismembered chair from before and nails Locke in the side of the head with a baseball swing, but Locke seems mostly unphased.
TWO!
Park: Locke may have snapped!
Wright: The SPARK champion is proving he's a beast tonight, and the hardcore icon Spike Kane is learning that a beast is harder to beat then you'd expect.
Kane swings at Locke again, but Locke ducks the swing and counters into a Bale Toss that slams Kane onto the barricade!
THREE!
Locke picks Kane up off of the floor, shouting at him to fight back and slapping the hardcore icon. Kane seems like he's out of it. Locke makes to whip Kane into the ringbpost, but Kane counters it and whips Locke into the barrier. Locke spins around and charges at Kane, who pops Locke up into the air and nails a pop-up powerbomb on the floor!
FOUR!
Wright: Spike Kane hits the Blood God's Wrath on the floor!
Park: If he can get Shane in the ring, Spike has a chance to be the new SPARK champion!
Kane tries to pick Locke up, but Locke blasts him in the temple with a closed fist and pulls himself to his feet using the barrier. He calls for Kane to bring it on. Kane looks amazed that Locke is able to get up after the slam, but it soon gives way to a primal excitement.
FIVE!
Kane runs at Locke and nails another Bloody Sunday, Lock falls back into the barrier, but through pure, brute force of will he stays on his feet, shaking his head no.
Wright: The fire in this young man is incredible!
Park: Fire only gets you so far, Ollie.
SIX!
Neither man seems particularly worried about the count as they start trading blows back and forth. Both men are throwing haymakers and nearly knocking the other off his feet, but they keep coming back for more. The crowd is roaring for it, chanting for the two men as they brutalize one another. Bruises and welts are starting to appear and swell, but neither man appears to be willing to give the other an inch.
SEVEN!
Finally Shane swings wide and Spike blasts him with another superkick. Locke plants his feet and stays upright, roaring 'NO!' but Kane follows it up with a low blow the referee doesn't see. He sets up and nails another Thunderstruck!
Wright: Another Thunderstruck to Shane Locke!
Park: Kane can't win this match if Locke isn't in the ring!
Amazingly, Locke catches the apron and stays on his feet. He's walking like a newborn colt, but he's still upright. Kane looks horrified, but he still wastes no time in blasting Locke with another Bloody Sunday, and following up with another Thunderstruck.
EIGHT!
Park: Get back in the ring, Spike!
Kane hauls Locke up off the floor, fixing to try and get the farmer back into the ring. Locke slips off his shoulders and shouts at Kane that he can still fight. Kane looks reluctant to continue, but Locke grabs his wrist, trying to pulls kane into a Bale Toss.
NINE!
Kane slides through and drives another kick into the champion's abdomen, aiming for another Thunderstruck, but Locke catches him and reverses it into the Lockedown!
Wright: LOCKEDOWN! Shane Locke has Spike Kane in the Lockedown!
Park: Locke doesn't realize they aren't in the ring!
Locke cinches in the move, planting his feet to lock in as high an angle as possible. Kane's eyes roll back in his head and bubbles form at the edges of his mouth as the icon loses consciousness.
TEN!
The referee calls for the bell as Locke continues to torque down on Kane, intent to choke the life out of him. Finally the officials manage to get him to break the hold. Locke looks confused as the officials check on Kane.
Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, this match has been declared a no contest due to a double count out!
Wright: Does Locke get his title shot?
Park: I'm not sure that counts as a successful defense, Ollie.
Staggering to his feet, wearily, Shane into the ring. He wipes his drenched face, shaking the impact out and hoping his wife doesn't notice he is probably concussed. He looks down at Spike Kane and sighs deeply. Waving to someone at ringside he makes the "Get me a microphone" motion... and eventually does.
Shane: Spike... man. *deep exhalation* That was a fight. You beat the heck out of me like few men on God's Green Earth ever have but... I don't like this. I don't like that before fighting me you had to fight someone else. I was there a couple days ago when you fought Jesse Jamester and Dylan Black and by God, man, I thought you were gonna die. I don't like this at all.
Spike gets to his own feet, eyeing down the big cowboy suspiciously.
Shane: So how about this? How about we make it so I don't feel like I cheated and we do this again. Shane Locke vs Spike Kane one more time when you haven't went through the ride you did this weekend. You're a legend. One of THE best ever. I want you at THE best. Whatcha say, sir?
Shane rolls out of the ring, offering a hand to Spike, who is just sitting at ringside, still recovering from being choked out by the cowboy. Spike eyes him suspiciously for a moment, then takes the offered hand, allowing Shane to pull him to his feet. After a tense moment, Spike nods, then shakes Shane's hand.
Wright: Ladies and gentlemen, it sounds like we have a rematch!
Park: After pulling double duty, Spike Kane took Shane Locke to the limit. I can't WAIT to see what these two do when they're both fresh!
Wright: And we still have one more main event to go! The X-Crown qualifier is up next!
Walter Stanford: The following match is scheduled for one fall. The winner will advance to the main event at Night of Champions 12 and fight for the X*Crown Championship!
"In the Hall of the Mountain King" plays as the fans pop for the Freak. Subject #42 emerges at the top of the ramp, swings up its arms, and lets out a giant ragh for the crowd.
Subject #42: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
They join the beast. Subject continues its walk down the ramp stepping over the ropes and into the ring. May God have mercy on their opponent.
Angel: Aww no kitty? I wanted to see if Tiny Fur wanted to party with Tequila Kitty II.
Walter Stanford: Entering first and representing Competitive Automotive Racing … at 7’ and 325 pounds and hailing from Area 51 … They are the Freak … former X*Crown champion SUBJECT #42!!
The lights turn off for a moment. The dueling guitar riffs from Simple Plan guitarists Sébastien Lefebvre and Jeff Stinco from their song “Last One Standing” as the screen reads “#Believe” in a light blue font. With a solitary spotlight on the top of the ramp, Adrien Cochrane appears the moment Pierre Bouvier’s vocals begin to echo throughout the venue.
“How many times are you gonna try to shut me out?
I told you once, told you twice, I ain't going to turn back around
You can say whatever, try to mess with me
I don't care, I'm not scared
You don't have to say you're sorry, save your sympathy
With a friend like you, I don't need an enemy
I would give you time if you were worth it
But guess what, you're not worth it”
Walter Stanford: And his opponent, From New Orleans, Louisiana, at 6 feet tall and weighing in at 190lbs, representing Fullmetal Wrestling Alliance, he is former X*Crown Champion …"The Dropkick King" ... ADRIEN COCHRANE!!
Cochrane looks at the fans from the ramp for a moment, giving a smile as he makes his way down the ramp and to the ring, hitting as many high fives and fist bumps as he can on his way to his destination.
Adrien: I certainly have my work cut out for me …
As Adrien leaps over the ropes to enter the squared circle and removes his black leather jacket to expose his #Believe shirt, he leans on the ropes with his fist in the air to the sound of the chorus.
“Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, I'm always going to be the last one standing
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, because I'm never going to give up trying
And now I'm ready to go, I'm here, I'm waiting for you
And I'm going be the last one standing”
Hawke: This is a true David and Goliath match here. Can the dropkick king overcome the unstoppable freak of nature?
Angel: Do I have enough liquor to get me through this match?
DING DING DING! The referee calls for the bell and Subject slowly moves to the center of the ring and snarls. Adrien cautiously moves to meet the big being. He stops and extends a hand. Subject looks confused. It stands up straight, towering a foot over Adrien.
Subject #42: Ragh?
Adrien: Just being sportsmanlike, big guy.
Subject nods and grasps Adrien’s hand in its own monstrous mitt. They shake and then Adrien dodges backwards and they begin to circle each other. The former champ from New Orleans darts in with feints to feel out the Freak’s motions. Finally the monster raises their arms for a test of strength. Adrien now returns the confused look but sighs. Being sportsmanlike, he engages.
Angel: I’m drunk and even I know that’s a dumb move. *BURP*
Hawke: I find it hard to argue AND now I think Adrien does too.
The Original Guardian earns some frequent flier miles as he is launched, literally in the air the entire way, from center ring into his own corner. He lets out an oof as he hits the turnbuckle and steps out holding his back as Subject seems to have an almost smirk on its face.
Subject #42: RAGH!
Adrien: Yeah. Ragh indeed.
With a quick motion, Cochrane circles around Subject and moves in. Subject spins and swats the former NGW Champ like a literal fly. After the palm to the side of the head Adrien rolls to his feet and hits a HUGE clothesline … that literally does nothing. Subject hits a huge headbutt and the Cajun Sensation buckles to his knees and then rolls backwards to get out of dodge.
Angel: Clothesline … on a literal mountain of a … thing?
Hawke: Look Adrien will try everything, he has the heart. I just don’t know if he has the power to take down this freak.
The FWA star weighs his options. Subject decides not to let him have this time. The man from the moon barrels in fast, sending the smaller fighter somersaulting out of harm’s way. With surprising agility, #42 stops short of the turnbuckle and wheels around and catches the legs of the dropkick king mid-dropkick. He directs Adrien over the top rope, where he ends up seated on the top turnbuckle. The look of fear tells the crowd Adrien knows what’s coming. A huge overhand chop crashes on the collarbone of the Original Guardian. He falls to the side and crashes off the apron and to the floor, landing right on the same left shoulder that just got smooshed.
Angel: Is his left arm dangling?
Hawke: Nope. But it might as well be. He probably has a stinger in that arm from the colossal force of Subject’s meaty chop.
The white skinned behemoth steps over the top rope to the apron. Adrien springs up and swipes at the legs with his right arm but Subject just keeps standing and then stomps on his hand. They leap off the apron for an axe handle but Adrien rolls out of the way and uses the momentum to whip Subject into the barricade. The barricade wilts under the strike of the meaty monster. The Freak doesn’t even flinch. Adrien rolls into the ring to weigh his options.
Hawke: Do you see a way out of this for Cochrane, Randy?
Angel: Retirement? Hospital? Coffi-
Hawke: OK WE GET THE PICTURE!
Subject #42: RRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
All the electronics flicker as Subject barrels past the announce table with a roar.
Angel: I broke the seal … now I’ll never stop.
Hawke: UGH! Randy that’s so- Yeah me too.
Subject climbs to the apron and Adrien charges with a pristine dropkick. He kips up and is staring right into the chest of an angry Freak who palms his face like a basketball and shoots a free throw. Rolling across the ring, Adrien manages to get to his knees and hits a dropkick on Subject as it enters the ring. The Freak grabs its chest for a moment. Adrien stands up and gets a knife edge chop that echoes around the arena like thunder. Chest newly crimson, Adrien stumbles to the corner. Subject barrels in and hits the avalanche before tossing Adrien to the mat like a rag doll. It raises its arms and places a foot on the chest.
ONE!
Adrien rolls the shoulder and gasps for air.
Subject reaches down and grabs both sides of Adrien’s head like a ripe watermelon.
Hawke: Uh oh, this is the Predicate, he’s nearly broken necks and skulls with this hold. It may already be over.
Angel: *throws up in his mouth* Sick.
They pull Adrien up to his feet and begins to squeeze. Thinking fast, the Louisiana native grasps the monster arms of the Freak and jumps. He plants his feet on the face of 42 and pushes with all his might. Subject is forced to break the hold after a few seconds. Adrien rolls out of the ring to hold his head in agony. Finger marks can be seen on his face. Holding its jaw, the being from Area 51 looks around at the ref and then the empty ring.
Hawke: Well give Adrien credit for being creative. With that escape he gets to survive another day.
Angel: LITERALLY!
The Freak follows Adrien to the ropes and reaches over to grab him on the floor. Adrien grabs the arm and falls to the floor racking the monstrous armpit of Subject on the top rope. They recoil with a grunt. It pulls its arm back as the wily guardian dives head first through the legs of the beast and into the ring. He sprints off the opposing ropes and comes back with a running super kick!
Angel: Lightning strike on #42!
Hawke: Subject leans on the ropes but doesn’t go down!
Subject uses this momentum to come crashing into Adrien with a clothesline. The Guardian bounces off the mat hard as the Freak pins.
ONE!
TW-KICKOUT!
Hawke: Nobody has more heart than Adrien Cochrane that’s for sure.
Angel: He needs to bring the freak off its *BEEEEELCH* … feet.
The White Skinned Wonder then stumbles and holds its chin. It shakes itself out to try and get the cobwebs out. Adrien is slow to his feet. He holds the back of his head and shakes his head to try and regain his composure. An overhead palm strike to the chest waffles him back to the ground hard. The Dropkick King rolls under the bottom rope again. The ref backs Subject away. Subject points at Adrien and says to the ref,
Subject #42: Ragh raghragh!
The ref admonishes them about the rules and Subject rolls their eyes. 42 gently nudge the ref away and moves towards the beaten up former NGW champ. Adrien leaps up with a pele kick to the side of the head of his opponent. He then uses the ropes to propel himself through the ropes with a shoulder thrust to the chest of the moon man. Subject stumbles and Adrien hits a dropkick! He backflips to the mat on his knees, springs up and another dropkick! He kips up and hits the stumbling Subject with a running shotgun dropkick to the chest sending it staggering to the corner. He runs in with ANOTHER dropkick to the face in the corner and Subject reels out and stumbles. A fifth dropkick to the back from the middle rope sends the beast to the mat face first!
Hawke:HE DID IT! It took 5 dropkicks to take the monster down but he did it!
Angel: That’s … *he holds up three fingers and counts on them* 80 dropkicks so far!
Hawke: Seven … it’s seven Randy.
Angel: Not by my math. There’s four Adrien’s in the ring right now!
Wasting no time, the N’Orleans native dives onto the Freak and lock in a fujiwara armbar. He really torques the right arm of the Freak. Subject raghs in pain and pounds the mat. As it pushes to his knees, Adrien rotates and gets la magistral!
ONE!
Subject powers out.
Adrien wastes no time and grabs the right arm and locks in a cross armbreaker! Subject raghs again. They fight with all their might to pull its arm close to its chest to lock its fingers together. Adrien uses both his legs and slams them across the chest and neck of Subject to get the arm back out into the hold. Again Subject is forced to fight it. At no point does he seem in danger of submitting, though. Adrien leans back hard and begins to spread the fingers on the right hand and twist the wrist to add pressure.
Hawke: Adrien using his arm bar submissions to try and sap the overwhelming power out of the Freak.
Angel: Will it work though? This thing is … like … alien or something! You know I met aliens.
Hawke: No you haven’t.
Angel: YEAH in Japan man! JROK!
Hawke: … you win this round drunken man.
Subject uses its strength to roll in the hold and grab his right arm with his left hand and wrench it back towards his body. Adrien gets to his feet and drops a knee on the right elbow before pinning.
ONE!
Subject benches Adrien and tosses him off.
Adrien follows with a running basement dropkick to the head of the prone monster. The CAR representative slams its hands on the mat and launches to his feet with a roar. Adrien simply hits another crisp dropkick to the face sending it reeling. He charges it but Subject regains its senses and catches Adrien with a spear! Adrien folds in half in a crumpled heap.
Hawke: SPEAR! The Freak with that amazing impact on the FWA World Championship #1 contender!
Angel: I’ll drink to that! *gulps down an entire flask of Super Sake*
Subject roars to the crowd and again places one foot on the chest of the FWA representative.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Adrien rolls the shoulder.
Subject drops into a more standard pin and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Adrien kicks free at the last second.
Angel: It’s not over? I’ll drink to that! *sips a spoonful of super sake*
The opaque ogre grasps Adrien by his hair and hauls him to his feet. It then picks him up in a front slam position and beal tosses him over the top rope. Cochrane crashes to the floor and rolls to the barricade. Fans reach over to cheer him on and pat his shoulders. He favors that left shoulder again. In the ring Subject is shaking out his right arm.
Adrien: There has to be a way to take him down.
Subject #42: RRRRAAAAAAAAAGGHRAGH!
The amazing albino steps over the top rope and walks to the steel steps. It slowly makes its way down the stairs to the roar of the crowd. Adrien pulls himself up on the barricade. With a ragh of power, Subject again gets their hands on Adrien and hurls him backwards, landing back first on the steel steps and sliding off the far side. The ref admonishes them to bring it inside and starts a count. The giant moves in, but Adrien leaps from his hiding spot and brings the face of the freak down hard on the steel steps, before again arching his back and falling to the floor from the impact on his own neck and back.
Hawke: HOLY HELL an Adrien Cutter on the steel steps! Subject felt that one.
Angel: Both men are down, a double count out means neither qualify!
At four, Adrien begins to stir. Subject pushes off the steel steps. Adrien rolls under the bottom rope at 6 but Subject grabs him and pulls him out by the leg and swings him into the steps, shoulder first. Adrien howls in pain. The ref begins his count again at one. At three, the Freak has found their hands again on the neck of Adrien. Adrien sends a kick to the gut, and another, and then a flurry of elbows and palms to the face. He finishes the flurry with a spinning heel kick to the chest. He rolls into and out of the ring to reset the count again. He lines up Subject and leaps off the steel steps looking for the Crescent City Connect. The Freak catches him by the throat and choke bombs him through the Spanish announce table!
Angel: HOLY SHIT! Adrien is dead man! DEAD! Pour one out for him. *he pours a shot of sake … into his mouth*
Hawke: It’s over. No way does he recover from that.
Adrien’s back is arched up in agony as he landed on a monitor. Subject surveys the wreckage of the table and decides it is enough. It rolls into the ring as the ref is at three. Adrien rolls onto his stomach and reaches out for someone, anyone to help him. At five he begins to crawl to the ring. At seven he pulls up onto the apron. At nine he rolls under the bottom rope and is immediately beset upon by a raging #42. A few stomps to the shoulder and spine have the original guardian turtling up. Subject pulls him into the middle of the ring and drops into a cover with its arm over the throat.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-foot on the ropes.
Subject pulls the leg away and hooks both legs this time.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-Hand on the rope!
Subject #42: RRAAAAAAAAAGGGGH!!!
Angel: Man, Cochrane doesn’t know how to survive another day, does he?
Hawke: He wants a chance to get his title back.
Subject holds three fingers to the ref, who cowers away while holding up two. Subject appeals to the crowd but then grabs its head in agony.
Subject #42: RAGH RAGH RAGH!
They are being admonished in their head by the vile woman who held them hostage. Subject flails wildly and hits nothing but air. Adrien uses this time to slowly recover. The Freak charges him and Adrien pulls the ropes down sending it tumbling to the ground. Another wave of admonishments in its head. When it looks to the ring, it eats a sliding baseball dropkick to the chest by Adrien. The Freak crashes into the English announce table hard. The ref is at three.
Hawke: Well Adrien is finally mounting an offense!
Angel: Uh, what is he *BUURP* gonna do now?
Hawke: Our table may not be long for this world, Randy.
Adrien summons all his inner strength and climbs to the top rope. He looks out at the crowd and closes his eyes. He leaps off the top rope and slams into Subject with a missile dropkick, sending them over the announce table and crashing through the barricade as the announcers just duck out of the way. Cochrane is not much better having landed on the outside shoulder and hip first and slammed into the front of the announce table.
Hawke: Am … am I alive?
Angel: *downs an entire boot of sake bomb* I SAW MY DRINKS FLASH BEFORE MY EYES!
The ref surveys the damage and rolls to the outside to check the carnage. He checks on Adrien who waves him off as he rolls onto his stomach. The ref checks the remains of Subject and seems satisfied enough to keep the match going. He runs to the steps and climbs back into the ring. He begins a count. ONE! Adrien blinks off the pain. TWO! He slowly rolls onto his back. THREE! He pulls himself to a sitting position. FOUR! Rubble moves behind the barricade and a single arm thrusts out of it. FIVE! Adrien gets an arm draped on the steel steps. SIX! Adrien is now to the top of the steps on his hands and knees, Subject is emerging from the rubble and falls forward back into the ringside area. SEVEN! Adrien rolls into the ring. Subject shakes the cobwebs out and can’t seem to get up. EIGHT! Adrien pulls himself to a standing base in the ring using the far ropes. Subject grabs their head in agony as another barrage of messages in their head shocks his system, NINE! Subject lunges to his feet and rolls under the bottom rope.
Hawke: … How … how did they both get up?
Angel: It’s Fireside magic in the air! I blame MAJESTY.
Hawke: Is that wise?
Angel: … look to whom you speak.
Both wrestlers pant, their chests heave in the ring. Adrien is first to his feet and dives onto Subject with another cross arm breaker. 42 however grabs the ropes. The ref backs Adrien off. Adrien leans on the ropes for support. He turns and a white hand lunges forward and clamps onto his face. Another hand lunges up and catches the back of his head. With the pressure added, Adrien buckles to his knees, shouting to anyone who will listen.
Angel: THE PREDICATE!
Hawke: Pretty easy to fight back when a move that simple, yet effective, is an arm’s reach away.
The right arm of Subject slips from the face of Adrien however and the wily veteran manages to hit a knee to the arm jolting himself free. A dropkick to the face puts the freak to the mat.
ONE!
TWO!
Subject powers out.
Adrien can’t believe it. The Freak slowly pushes to its feet. Another dropkick! Subject falls to the mat but gets up quicker. ANOTHER DROPKICK! Subject roars to life even faster. ANOTHER dropkick but the Freak is still standing. As Adrien gets to his feet, the white arm of Subject crushes his skull with intense force. The overhand brain chop looks to have knocked Adrien out cold. Subject slowly builds its energy.
Subject #42: Ra … gh … Ragh! RAGH! RAAAAAAAAAGH!!
Subject covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEE-NO!
At the very last moment, Adrien somehow comes to life and rolls the shoulder!
Adrien: Not … finished … yet … big guy.
Another message in the head gets Subject good and angry. Another brain chop and Adrien crumples like a rag doll.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Subject #42:RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! Ragh Ragh!
Adrien: No … can do. Won’t … stay down.
Another brain chop! Adrien is dazed. He slowly sits up. ANOTHER brain chop and now blood trickles from the forehead of Adrien and the left hand of Subject! ANOTHER chop.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-foot on the ropes.
Subject roars in anger and backs up to the turnbuckle. It slowly, carefully steps to the first rope. Adrien slowly gets to his feet. A leap and a double axe handle!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE-roll of the shoulder.
Angel: What is Adrien made of!?
Hawke: Something sterner than I, my friend.
Subject backs to the ropes again. This time it slowly gets to the second rope and signals for the spear to the crowd. Adrien gingerly gets to his feet. Subject dives. Adrien SOMEHOW ducks the spear and uses the momentum to crush Subject to the mat with the death valley driver!
Angel: HOLY SHIT!
Hawke: Adrien somehow caught the 7’, 325lb Freak with the Dream Breaker!
Both wrestlers are down. The ref checks them. He calls for the count out. ONE! TWO! THREE! Adrien slowly rolls to Subject. FOUR! FIVE! Arm draped over the chest!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO!
The Freak somehow pops its eyes open and roars with rage and rolls violently over. It stands up and roars. Then wobbles … then drops to a knee. Adrien slowly pushes to his feet. Dropkick to the chest. Subject is floored. Adrien crawls over for a cover but two white hands grasp his throat. Subject sits up, blood dripping from its hand and Adrien’s head. It slowly pushes to its feet. The right arm wavers as it lifts Adrien up. Adrien somehow manages to hit the right arm hard enough to drop free and ADRIEN CUTTER!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO!
Angel: How do they keep going?
Hawke: They’re both punch drunk, I think.
Angel: Amateurs. I don’t need to be punched. I just use booze! *downs a Big Gulp of Super Sake, belches*
Adrien rolls under the bottom rope. Subject, miraculously, climbs to its feet. With every last ounce of energy, Adrien springs up and off the top rope. Double knees to the shoulders. The Crescent City Connect lands flush. Subject is down and pinned beneath the knees as Adrien grabs its legs as they kick up and holds the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Subject violently kicks out JUST as the three hits.
DING DING DING!
Angel: HOLY HELL HE DID IT!
Hawke: I don’t know if it’s an upset but sixteen dropkicks from the king and a flurry of unexpected offense and the Freak is down.
Subject stares at the ref with disbelief as Adrien collapses onto the middle rope, pumping both fists to the crowd through the ropes.
Walter Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, and advancing to the main event of Night of Champions … from FWA … ADRIEN COCHRANE!
Angel: I can’t believe it!
Hawke: That’s all from us, on behalf of myself, Randy Angel, UnJoo Park, and Oliver Wright, thanks for watching!
"In the Hall of the Mountain King" plays as the fans pop for the Freak. Subject #42 emerges at the top of the ramp, swings up its arms, and lets out a giant ragh for the crowd.
Subject #42: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
They join the beast. Subject continues its walk down the ramp stepping over the ropes and into the ring. May God have mercy on their opponent.
Angel: Aww no kitty? I wanted to see if Tiny Fur wanted to party with Tequila Kitty II.
Walter Stanford: Entering first and representing Competitive Automotive Racing … at 7’ and 325 pounds and hailing from Area 51 … They are the Freak … former X*Crown champion SUBJECT #42!!
The lights turn off for a moment. The dueling guitar riffs from Simple Plan guitarists Sébastien Lefebvre and Jeff Stinco from their song “Last One Standing” as the screen reads “#Believe” in a light blue font. With a solitary spotlight on the top of the ramp, Adrien Cochrane appears the moment Pierre Bouvier’s vocals begin to echo throughout the venue.
“How many times are you gonna try to shut me out?
I told you once, told you twice, I ain't going to turn back around
You can say whatever, try to mess with me
I don't care, I'm not scared
You don't have to say you're sorry, save your sympathy
With a friend like you, I don't need an enemy
I would give you time if you were worth it
But guess what, you're not worth it”
Walter Stanford: And his opponent, From New Orleans, Louisiana, at 6 feet tall and weighing in at 190lbs, representing Fullmetal Wrestling Alliance, he is former X*Crown Champion …"The Dropkick King" ... ADRIEN COCHRANE!!
Cochrane looks at the fans from the ramp for a moment, giving a smile as he makes his way down the ramp and to the ring, hitting as many high fives and fist bumps as he can on his way to his destination.
Adrien: I certainly have my work cut out for me …
As Adrien leaps over the ropes to enter the squared circle and removes his black leather jacket to expose his #Believe shirt, he leans on the ropes with his fist in the air to the sound of the chorus.
“Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, I'm always going to be the last one standing
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, because I'm never going to give up trying
And now I'm ready to go, I'm here, I'm waiting for you
And I'm going be the last one standing”
Hawke: This is a true David and Goliath match here. Can the dropkick king overcome the unstoppable freak of nature?
Angel: Do I have enough liquor to get me through this match?
DING DING DING! The referee calls for the bell and Subject slowly moves to the center of the ring and snarls. Adrien cautiously moves to meet the big being. He stops and extends a hand. Subject looks confused. It stands up straight, towering a foot over Adrien.
Subject #42: Ragh?
Adrien: Just being sportsmanlike, big guy.
Subject nods and grasps Adrien’s hand in its own monstrous mitt. They shake and then Adrien dodges backwards and they begin to circle each other. The former champ from New Orleans darts in with feints to feel out the Freak’s motions. Finally the monster raises their arms for a test of strength. Adrien now returns the confused look but sighs. Being sportsmanlike, he engages.
Angel: I’m drunk and even I know that’s a dumb move. *BURP*
Hawke: I find it hard to argue AND now I think Adrien does too.
The Original Guardian earns some frequent flier miles as he is launched, literally in the air the entire way, from center ring into his own corner. He lets out an oof as he hits the turnbuckle and steps out holding his back as Subject seems to have an almost smirk on its face.
Subject #42: RAGH!
Adrien: Yeah. Ragh indeed.
With a quick motion, Cochrane circles around Subject and moves in. Subject spins and swats the former NGW Champ like a literal fly. After the palm to the side of the head Adrien rolls to his feet and hits a HUGE clothesline … that literally does nothing. Subject hits a huge headbutt and the Cajun Sensation buckles to his knees and then rolls backwards to get out of dodge.
Angel: Clothesline … on a literal mountain of a … thing?
Hawke: Look Adrien will try everything, he has the heart. I just don’t know if he has the power to take down this freak.
The FWA star weighs his options. Subject decides not to let him have this time. The man from the moon barrels in fast, sending the smaller fighter somersaulting out of harm’s way. With surprising agility, #42 stops short of the turnbuckle and wheels around and catches the legs of the dropkick king mid-dropkick. He directs Adrien over the top rope, where he ends up seated on the top turnbuckle. The look of fear tells the crowd Adrien knows what’s coming. A huge overhand chop crashes on the collarbone of the Original Guardian. He falls to the side and crashes off the apron and to the floor, landing right on the same left shoulder that just got smooshed.
Angel: Is his left arm dangling?
Hawke: Nope. But it might as well be. He probably has a stinger in that arm from the colossal force of Subject’s meaty chop.
The white skinned behemoth steps over the top rope to the apron. Adrien springs up and swipes at the legs with his right arm but Subject just keeps standing and then stomps on his hand. They leap off the apron for an axe handle but Adrien rolls out of the way and uses the momentum to whip Subject into the barricade. The barricade wilts under the strike of the meaty monster. The Freak doesn’t even flinch. Adrien rolls into the ring to weigh his options.
Hawke: Do you see a way out of this for Cochrane, Randy?
Angel: Retirement? Hospital? Coffi-
Hawke: OK WE GET THE PICTURE!
Subject #42: RRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
All the electronics flicker as Subject barrels past the announce table with a roar.
Angel: I broke the seal … now I’ll never stop.
Hawke: UGH! Randy that’s so- Yeah me too.
Subject climbs to the apron and Adrien charges with a pristine dropkick. He kips up and is staring right into the chest of an angry Freak who palms his face like a basketball and shoots a free throw. Rolling across the ring, Adrien manages to get to his knees and hits a dropkick on Subject as it enters the ring. The Freak grabs its chest for a moment. Adrien stands up and gets a knife edge chop that echoes around the arena like thunder. Chest newly crimson, Adrien stumbles to the corner. Subject barrels in and hits the avalanche before tossing Adrien to the mat like a rag doll. It raises its arms and places a foot on the chest.
ONE!
Adrien rolls the shoulder and gasps for air.
Subject reaches down and grabs both sides of Adrien’s head like a ripe watermelon.
Hawke: Uh oh, this is the Predicate, he’s nearly broken necks and skulls with this hold. It may already be over.
Angel: *throws up in his mouth* Sick.
They pull Adrien up to his feet and begins to squeeze. Thinking fast, the Louisiana native grasps the monster arms of the Freak and jumps. He plants his feet on the face of 42 and pushes with all his might. Subject is forced to break the hold after a few seconds. Adrien rolls out of the ring to hold his head in agony. Finger marks can be seen on his face. Holding its jaw, the being from Area 51 looks around at the ref and then the empty ring.
Hawke: Well give Adrien credit for being creative. With that escape he gets to survive another day.
Angel: LITERALLY!
The Freak follows Adrien to the ropes and reaches over to grab him on the floor. Adrien grabs the arm and falls to the floor racking the monstrous armpit of Subject on the top rope. They recoil with a grunt. It pulls its arm back as the wily guardian dives head first through the legs of the beast and into the ring. He sprints off the opposing ropes and comes back with a running super kick!
Angel: Lightning strike on #42!
Hawke: Subject leans on the ropes but doesn’t go down!
Subject uses this momentum to come crashing into Adrien with a clothesline. The Guardian bounces off the mat hard as the Freak pins.
ONE!
TW-KICKOUT!
Hawke: Nobody has more heart than Adrien Cochrane that’s for sure.
Angel: He needs to bring the freak off its *BEEEEELCH* … feet.
The White Skinned Wonder then stumbles and holds its chin. It shakes itself out to try and get the cobwebs out. Adrien is slow to his feet. He holds the back of his head and shakes his head to try and regain his composure. An overhead palm strike to the chest waffles him back to the ground hard. The Dropkick King rolls under the bottom rope again. The ref backs Subject away. Subject points at Adrien and says to the ref,
Subject #42: Ragh raghragh!
The ref admonishes them about the rules and Subject rolls their eyes. 42 gently nudge the ref away and moves towards the beaten up former NGW champ. Adrien leaps up with a pele kick to the side of the head of his opponent. He then uses the ropes to propel himself through the ropes with a shoulder thrust to the chest of the moon man. Subject stumbles and Adrien hits a dropkick! He backflips to the mat on his knees, springs up and another dropkick! He kips up and hits the stumbling Subject with a running shotgun dropkick to the chest sending it staggering to the corner. He runs in with ANOTHER dropkick to the face in the corner and Subject reels out and stumbles. A fifth dropkick to the back from the middle rope sends the beast to the mat face first!
Hawke:HE DID IT! It took 5 dropkicks to take the monster down but he did it!
Angel: That’s … *he holds up three fingers and counts on them* 80 dropkicks so far!
Hawke: Seven … it’s seven Randy.
Angel: Not by my math. There’s four Adrien’s in the ring right now!
Wasting no time, the N’Orleans native dives onto the Freak and lock in a fujiwara armbar. He really torques the right arm of the Freak. Subject raghs in pain and pounds the mat. As it pushes to his knees, Adrien rotates and gets la magistral!
ONE!
Subject powers out.
Adrien wastes no time and grabs the right arm and locks in a cross armbreaker! Subject raghs again. They fight with all their might to pull its arm close to its chest to lock its fingers together. Adrien uses both his legs and slams them across the chest and neck of Subject to get the arm back out into the hold. Again Subject is forced to fight it. At no point does he seem in danger of submitting, though. Adrien leans back hard and begins to spread the fingers on the right hand and twist the wrist to add pressure.
Hawke: Adrien using his arm bar submissions to try and sap the overwhelming power out of the Freak.
Angel: Will it work though? This thing is … like … alien or something! You know I met aliens.
Hawke: No you haven’t.
Angel: YEAH in Japan man! JROK!
Hawke: … you win this round drunken man.
Subject uses its strength to roll in the hold and grab his right arm with his left hand and wrench it back towards his body. Adrien gets to his feet and drops a knee on the right elbow before pinning.
ONE!
Subject benches Adrien and tosses him off.
Adrien follows with a running basement dropkick to the head of the prone monster. The CAR representative slams its hands on the mat and launches to his feet with a roar. Adrien simply hits another crisp dropkick to the face sending it reeling. He charges it but Subject regains its senses and catches Adrien with a spear! Adrien folds in half in a crumpled heap.
Hawke: SPEAR! The Freak with that amazing impact on the FWA World Championship #1 contender!
Angel: I’ll drink to that! *gulps down an entire flask of Super Sake*
Subject roars to the crowd and again places one foot on the chest of the FWA representative.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Adrien rolls the shoulder.
Subject drops into a more standard pin and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Adrien kicks free at the last second.
Angel: It’s not over? I’ll drink to that! *sips a spoonful of super sake*
The opaque ogre grasps Adrien by his hair and hauls him to his feet. It then picks him up in a front slam position and beal tosses him over the top rope. Cochrane crashes to the floor and rolls to the barricade. Fans reach over to cheer him on and pat his shoulders. He favors that left shoulder again. In the ring Subject is shaking out his right arm.
Adrien: There has to be a way to take him down.
Subject #42: RRRRAAAAAAAAAGGHRAGH!
The amazing albino steps over the top rope and walks to the steel steps. It slowly makes its way down the stairs to the roar of the crowd. Adrien pulls himself up on the barricade. With a ragh of power, Subject again gets their hands on Adrien and hurls him backwards, landing back first on the steel steps and sliding off the far side. The ref admonishes them to bring it inside and starts a count. The giant moves in, but Adrien leaps from his hiding spot and brings the face of the freak down hard on the steel steps, before again arching his back and falling to the floor from the impact on his own neck and back.
Hawke: HOLY HELL an Adrien Cutter on the steel steps! Subject felt that one.
Angel: Both men are down, a double count out means neither qualify!
At four, Adrien begins to stir. Subject pushes off the steel steps. Adrien rolls under the bottom rope at 6 but Subject grabs him and pulls him out by the leg and swings him into the steps, shoulder first. Adrien howls in pain. The ref begins his count again at one. At three, the Freak has found their hands again on the neck of Adrien. Adrien sends a kick to the gut, and another, and then a flurry of elbows and palms to the face. He finishes the flurry with a spinning heel kick to the chest. He rolls into and out of the ring to reset the count again. He lines up Subject and leaps off the steel steps looking for the Crescent City Connect. The Freak catches him by the throat and choke bombs him through the Spanish announce table!
Angel: HOLY SHIT! Adrien is dead man! DEAD! Pour one out for him. *he pours a shot of sake … into his mouth*
Hawke: It’s over. No way does he recover from that.
Adrien’s back is arched up in agony as he landed on a monitor. Subject surveys the wreckage of the table and decides it is enough. It rolls into the ring as the ref is at three. Adrien rolls onto his stomach and reaches out for someone, anyone to help him. At five he begins to crawl to the ring. At seven he pulls up onto the apron. At nine he rolls under the bottom rope and is immediately beset upon by a raging #42. A few stomps to the shoulder and spine have the original guardian turtling up. Subject pulls him into the middle of the ring and drops into a cover with its arm over the throat.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-foot on the ropes.
Subject pulls the leg away and hooks both legs this time.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-Hand on the rope!
Subject #42: RRAAAAAAAAAGGGGH!!!
Angel: Man, Cochrane doesn’t know how to survive another day, does he?
Hawke: He wants a chance to get his title back.
Subject holds three fingers to the ref, who cowers away while holding up two. Subject appeals to the crowd but then grabs its head in agony.
Subject #42: RAGH RAGH RAGH!
They are being admonished in their head by the vile woman who held them hostage. Subject flails wildly and hits nothing but air. Adrien uses this time to slowly recover. The Freak charges him and Adrien pulls the ropes down sending it tumbling to the ground. Another wave of admonishments in its head. When it looks to the ring, it eats a sliding baseball dropkick to the chest by Adrien. The Freak crashes into the English announce table hard. The ref is at three.
Hawke: Well Adrien is finally mounting an offense!
Angel: Uh, what is he *BUURP* gonna do now?
Hawke: Our table may not be long for this world, Randy.
Adrien summons all his inner strength and climbs to the top rope. He looks out at the crowd and closes his eyes. He leaps off the top rope and slams into Subject with a missile dropkick, sending them over the announce table and crashing through the barricade as the announcers just duck out of the way. Cochrane is not much better having landed on the outside shoulder and hip first and slammed into the front of the announce table.
Hawke: Am … am I alive?
Angel: *downs an entire boot of sake bomb* I SAW MY DRINKS FLASH BEFORE MY EYES!
The ref surveys the damage and rolls to the outside to check the carnage. He checks on Adrien who waves him off as he rolls onto his stomach. The ref checks the remains of Subject and seems satisfied enough to keep the match going. He runs to the steps and climbs back into the ring. He begins a count. ONE! Adrien blinks off the pain. TWO! He slowly rolls onto his back. THREE! He pulls himself to a sitting position. FOUR! Rubble moves behind the barricade and a single arm thrusts out of it. FIVE! Adrien gets an arm draped on the steel steps. SIX! Adrien is now to the top of the steps on his hands and knees, Subject is emerging from the rubble and falls forward back into the ringside area. SEVEN! Adrien rolls into the ring. Subject shakes the cobwebs out and can’t seem to get up. EIGHT! Adrien pulls himself to a standing base in the ring using the far ropes. Subject grabs their head in agony as another barrage of messages in their head shocks his system, NINE! Subject lunges to his feet and rolls under the bottom rope.
Hawke: … How … how did they both get up?
Angel: It’s Fireside magic in the air! I blame MAJESTY.
Hawke: Is that wise?
Angel: … look to whom you speak.
Both wrestlers pant, their chests heave in the ring. Adrien is first to his feet and dives onto Subject with another cross arm breaker. 42 however grabs the ropes. The ref backs Adrien off. Adrien leans on the ropes for support. He turns and a white hand lunges forward and clamps onto his face. Another hand lunges up and catches the back of his head. With the pressure added, Adrien buckles to his knees, shouting to anyone who will listen.
Angel: THE PREDICATE!
Hawke: Pretty easy to fight back when a move that simple, yet effective, is an arm’s reach away.
The right arm of Subject slips from the face of Adrien however and the wily veteran manages to hit a knee to the arm jolting himself free. A dropkick to the face puts the freak to the mat.
ONE!
TWO!
Subject powers out.
Adrien can’t believe it. The Freak slowly pushes to its feet. Another dropkick! Subject falls to the mat but gets up quicker. ANOTHER DROPKICK! Subject roars to life even faster. ANOTHER dropkick but the Freak is still standing. As Adrien gets to his feet, the white arm of Subject crushes his skull with intense force. The overhand brain chop looks to have knocked Adrien out cold. Subject slowly builds its energy.
Subject #42: Ra … gh … Ragh! RAGH! RAAAAAAAAAGH!!
Subject covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEE-NO!
At the very last moment, Adrien somehow comes to life and rolls the shoulder!
Adrien: Not … finished … yet … big guy.
Another message in the head gets Subject good and angry. Another brain chop and Adrien crumples like a rag doll.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Subject #42:RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! Ragh Ragh!
Adrien: No … can do. Won’t … stay down.
Another brain chop! Adrien is dazed. He slowly sits up. ANOTHER brain chop and now blood trickles from the forehead of Adrien and the left hand of Subject! ANOTHER chop.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-foot on the ropes.
Subject roars in anger and backs up to the turnbuckle. It slowly, carefully steps to the first rope. Adrien slowly gets to his feet. A leap and a double axe handle!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE-roll of the shoulder.
Angel: What is Adrien made of!?
Hawke: Something sterner than I, my friend.
Subject backs to the ropes again. This time it slowly gets to the second rope and signals for the spear to the crowd. Adrien gingerly gets to his feet. Subject dives. Adrien SOMEHOW ducks the spear and uses the momentum to crush Subject to the mat with the death valley driver!
Angel: HOLY SHIT!
Hawke: Adrien somehow caught the 7’, 325lb Freak with the Dream Breaker!
Both wrestlers are down. The ref checks them. He calls for the count out. ONE! TWO! THREE! Adrien slowly rolls to Subject. FOUR! FIVE! Arm draped over the chest!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO!
The Freak somehow pops its eyes open and roars with rage and rolls violently over. It stands up and roars. Then wobbles … then drops to a knee. Adrien slowly pushes to his feet. Dropkick to the chest. Subject is floored. Adrien crawls over for a cover but two white hands grasp his throat. Subject sits up, blood dripping from its hand and Adrien’s head. It slowly pushes to its feet. The right arm wavers as it lifts Adrien up. Adrien somehow manages to hit the right arm hard enough to drop free and ADRIEN CUTTER!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO!
Angel: How do they keep going?
Hawke: They’re both punch drunk, I think.
Angel: Amateurs. I don’t need to be punched. I just use booze! *downs a Big Gulp of Super Sake, belches*
Adrien rolls under the bottom rope. Subject, miraculously, climbs to its feet. With every last ounce of energy, Adrien springs up and off the top rope. Double knees to the shoulders. The Crescent City Connect lands flush. Subject is down and pinned beneath the knees as Adrien grabs its legs as they kick up and holds the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Subject violently kicks out JUST as the three hits.
DING DING DING!
Angel: HOLY HELL HE DID IT!
Hawke: I don’t know if it’s an upset but sixteen dropkicks from the king and a flurry of unexpected offense and the Freak is down.
Subject stares at the ref with disbelief as Adrien collapses onto the middle rope, pumping both fists to the crowd through the ropes.
Walter Stanford: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, and advancing to the main event of Night of Champions … from FWA … ADRIEN COCHRANE!
Angel: I can’t believe it!
Hawke: That’s all from us, on behalf of myself, Randy Angel, UnJoo Park, and Oliver Wright, thanks for watching!