Infinite Pro Wrestling — Adrenaline V.
Jun 23, 2022 18:53:41 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Kira Izumi, and 3 more like this
Post by Mav. on Jun 23, 2022 18:53:41 GMT -5
INFINITE PRO WRESTLING PRESENTS:
ADRENALINE V
LIVE! from The OVO Arena Wembley in London, England.
Sunday, July 3rd, 2022.
7:00 P.M. (GMT) – On The XHF Network.
“It's a fucking war now, even the score now
They said it so they can watch it all get torn down
Going blind now, outta my mind now
And it they watch it they can fuck around and find out
'Cause it's a war
'Cause it's a war”
‘War Ender’ by ONI begins to play as the feed comes to life and pyro erupts along the stage, all of the LCD boards light up with the Adrenaline graphics and as the pyro ends? We’re given a panoramic shot of the entirety of The OVO Arena Wembley in the heart of London, England. The arena is SOLD OUT at a maximum capacity of over ten thousand fans packed inside, on their feet, and chanting.
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
As the music continues to play along, the camera feed pans down towards where the commentary table resides at the ringside area, where we’re met with the ever present team of Chloe Hartwell and Dominic Morrissey. A wave from Morrissey and a smile from Hartwell.
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Adrenaline! We’ve moved from Ireland and we’ve touched down inside of the United Kingdom! We’re LIVE inside of the heart of the city of London and we’ve got one hell of a show lined up for each and every single one of you ahead of our London debut show!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“That we sure do and there’s no better way to move onto our first supershow in just two weeks than our main event – two men who have some personal issues with one another after the events of what went down at First Contact, they’ll fight it out for a chance to become a contender to Cross Recoba’s championship at London Heatwave! Alastor Touchdown of The Jamrockers, Spike Kane of Chaos Theory, a shot at the National Openweight Championship on the line and it’s our main event tonight!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Although, sadly, here we are to break the news for you about one of our three way matches of the night and it’s not good news either. Travel issues have stopped both Jules King and Savannah Andrews from entering into the country which leaves Aaron Asphyxia without any opponents tonight. That match has now been called off, but we’ve been told that we’ll be hearing from El Rey tonight about his future here in Infinite Pro Wrestling to replace it, and from what we’ve been told? It’s something big that’s on his mind.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“And the hits keep on coming because later on tonight? We’ll be hearing from the owner himself and he’s brought along someone to keep things in control here in Infinite Pro Wrestling when he’s not around! The names have been circulating for quite some time now about who it could simply be! Names like Bobby Barratt, Rob Arnold, James Dragon, and so much more have been in consideration! Tonight, we’ll find out who will be the commissioner of Infinite Pro Wrestling!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“But that’s not all from the owner tonight, because he’ll be handing away the chance of a lifetime to the winners of the Tag Team Clusterfuck Gauntlet – The Dead End Express! They’ll be claiming their award from Jason Long here tonight and there’s been many circulations as to what it might just be! Tag Team Championships have been thrown up in the air as the plan, but I’ve got my own hearing from the owner and he’s saying that The Dead End Express are going to be rewarded well tonight!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“How about we focus back onto the action and show off a three way rookie showcase match that’ll be bringing three new names to the mix and showing just what they can bring to the table! Big Papa LaChappa, he’ll be there to bring the love against two men who are here to prove themselves. Tommy Hate, a known bloodsport fighter. Ricky Gunn, who we’ve seen before lately taking out Leo Reza and shelving him entirely. These three are hungry for that spotlight and we’re giving them just that! Who’ll walk out of here tonight with their first win?”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“And what about the match that’s been demanded by a certain BOSS of the ring, eh? Latoya Hixx has supposedly demanded this match to happen against her with Blaze Freya and realistically, hasn’t stopped talking about bringing a women’s division to Infinite Pro Wrestling but she’s here claiming to begin one by defeating a former tag partner of hers, Blaze Freya!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“But we’re beginning tonight with something that a whole lot of people have been waiting weeks for, that being the coronation of our inaugural Infinite Pro Heavyweight Champion… THE UNDISPUTED… ANA SOMNIA! SHE’S KICKING OFF THE SHOW AND THAT STARTS RIGHT NOW!”
YOU MAKE ME VICIOUS!
WATCH AS I MAKE THE PAIN MY MISTRESS!
YOU CAN CALL ME MISS MALICIOUS,
I'LL DRESS YOU UP IN STITCHES;
NO, I CANNOT RESIST THIS!
“Vicious” by Halestorm kicking through the P.A. demands the attention of every fan in the OVO Arena Wembley as an enveloping arterial red lighting overwhelms the entire venue. Pandemonium courses through the capacity crowd while a thick fog pervades the entrance stage, emphasizing the foreboding atmosphere. As Lzzy Hale's throaty, powerful vocals continue over the band’s harsh guitars and a vibrant white flashing light overtakes the arena, the Devil Herself saunters through the curtain and steps into the ominous mise-en-scène before her, her head bowed forward.
ANA SOMNIA is not scheduled to compete tonight, and as such is clad in civilian attire. She dons a black pair of wet-look Reebok Russia leggings, a silver pair of combat boots, a black Reebok Russia sports bra, and a sleeveless, blood red W.C.A. Fight Club sweatshirt. She, too, wears a black Forge beanie on her head. Her EHWF GLOBAL CHAMPIONSHIP is wrapped around her sculpted waist while her INFINITE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP rests slung over her shoulder..
She lifts her head and looks out upon the capacity crowd, the arterial red lipstick on her lips appearing even more sinister when her lips twist into a malicious sneer. Her upper lip twitches in disdain, wrath bubbling up beneath the surface. She draws breath before shifting her weight from one hip to the other, resting her free hand around the back of the top of the faceplate of her title. She allows her malevolent gaze to glide from one side of the venue to the other before returning her focus to center, settling her vision on the ring on the far end of the entrance ramp.
CASEY KINCAID
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome—for the first time on Sunday Night Adrenaline—the inaugural INFINITE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD... The DEVIL HERSELF... The UNDISPUTED... AAANNNAAA... ‘NECESSARY EVIL’... SSSOOOMMMNNNIIIAAA!”
The Undisputed then stomps down the ring to ringside, confidence pouring out of every imperious movement she makes. Once she reaches the foot of the entrance ramp, Somnia struts to the bottom of the steel stairs leading up to the ring apron. She hastens up the stairs with purpose and ventures out about halfway across the apron nearest the ramp. Sneering as she looks out on the crowd one more time, Somnia scrapes the bottoms of her boots against the apron.
Forgoing her typical theatricality in her entrance, she simply looks out upon the audience, a contemplative scowl on her visage. Then the Huntress suddenly unfastens the strap around her waist and hastens toward the corner, hopping up and swinging her leg over the top rope and into the ring to sit upon the top turnbuckle as if it were the top of the cage at the end of an MMA fight. She roars imperiously and rolls her shoulders, hoisting both of her titles high overhead to a resounding chorus of disapproving jeers.
Subsequently, Slavic Steel slides back down to her feet inside of the squared circle and wraps her world title around her waist again. After she ventures to the corner nearest the timekeeper’s area, she leans through the ropes and demands a microphone from a ringside attendant, who sheepishly obliges. Ana then pulls back into the ring and paces for a moment, eventually settling into a stationary pose in the center of the ring, staring daggers into the hard camera. She drapes her newest title over her shoulder and adjusts it until it’s resting comfortably before lifting the microphone to her blood-red lips to address the IPW fanbase.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“I am woman of my word. When I said I would win Infinite Power Tournament, put Irina Sokolov to sleep, and become first Infinite Pro Heavyweight Champion of World, I meant this. What is more important? I DID this. And now? Now I stand before you all truly Undisputed. I have survived every single fighter offered into this ring—this altar in worship of Devil Herself—as sacrifice for Greater Good, and I have done this unscathed. I have done this… unimpressed.”
Somnia shakes her head, lowering the microphone to her side as the crowd boos her. Once their vocal dissent dissipates, the War Whisperer adjusts the title on her shoulder and reunites the microphone with the venomous vitriol spewing from her blood-red lips.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“This is why I have not come to this ring—my ring—to celebrate my triumph. I will not rest upon laurels when my work has only just begun. You see, while I am indeed woman of my word, I prefer to allow action to speak for me. This way, my reputation is not just words. This way… my reputation is fact, etched in history books hard as iron. This way? Perhaps this company will listen more carefully when I tell them I want best sport has to offer. Perhaps this company will listen more carefully when I tell them foundation of future of title, company, and sport will be built upon bones of those delusional enough to believe they are best in world... delusional enough to believe they are Ana Somnia.”
Ana lowers the microphone again, though it manages to pick up her sinister snicker nonetheless. She bows her head slightly forward, peering ominously up through a furrowed brow with the corner of her upper lip twitching until it curls her arrogant sneer into a nefarious snarl. Cocking her head sharply to both sides, she cracks either side of her neck before lifting the microphone back up and continuing to deliver her diabolical diatribe.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“Indeed, I am not here to celebrate triumph. I am here to speak of my first challenger, my first… example. Defeating Irina Sokolov was like me: inevitable. I knew this, she knew this, and all of you knew this. Because my triumph was inevitable, my undivided focus was unnecessary. I instead watched two fighters go to war for right to be this First Example: Tarah Nova, a woman revered throughout sport, and MYŌJIN, whose appreciation for violence earned my respect long ago. Their battle set my teeth on edge, each drop of blood spilled inviting my insatiable hunger. But Tarah Nova did not prove her reputation to be fact, to be etched into history books hard as iron. She proved her reputation to be words. And what is more important? She proved she is unfit to contend for my Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship.”
Once more, the Pound-for-Pound Most Potent Professional Fighter on the Planet adjusts the championship slung over her shoulder to emphasize her sentiment. An imperious smirk spreads across her visage as she draws a deep, slow breath through her nose. Pressing her tongue against the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, Ana then inches toward the ropes nearest the hard camera. Her eyes flick to the aforementioned primary production camera and her words take on greater foreboding as a result.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“But I am not here to speak of Tarah Nova, either… I am here to speak to my First Example. I am here to speak to them of violence. You see, MYŌJIN... I know of your respect for this, your admiration for this... We have spoken of this matter in past. But like reputation of woman you defeated to earn fight with me, this is only words. Your actions in ring against Tarah Nova only tell part of story, нет? Because for all our shared words in worship of violence, only one fight will solidify your reputation. And this one and only fight? This fight is against me.”
Somnia now turns from our hard camera to the adjacent set of ropes to her right, the set of ropes nearest the entrance ramp heading to the tunnel. Shifting the title belt on her shoulder, Ana then brings the microphone back up and sighs almost contentedly before continuing to growl her Russian-riddled rhetoric more directly toward her first challenger.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“You will not defeat me, MYŌJIN. This is no less inevitable than my triumphs at First Contact were. But I suspect you are smarter than those who fell before you and you know this. I suspect you understand defeating me is not possible for you. I suspect… you are looking to earn respect and solidify reputation by simply surviving fight with Ana Somnia. I would not take kindly to discovering my suspicions are misplaced... сука.”
MYŌJIN
“Are you done yet?”
Soon enough the sound of the Shining Star's voice echoes throughout the arena with the sound of cheers in response. MYŌJIN begins walking out from gorilla position, down the entrance ramp with a microphone in hand. An amused grin is on their face as they climb up onto the apron, staring toward the champion with an eyebrow raised.
MYŌJIN
“I mean, seriously, I think I've just heard enough. My God, I know it must be boring for this audience to hear the same old egotistical rants every show. I didn't want to ruin your, uh… little celebration here, but since you want my attention so bad- Here I am.”
MYŌJIN
“Congratulations, champ. On the title win and everything, good for you! I bet you're feeling pretty proud of yourself and super confident, perfectly understandable. Most of what you said about me is right, I love this sport. I love wrestling more than anything… What you're wrong about is thinking that I'm not here to beat you. I mean, do you hear yourself?”
Climbing through the second rope, MYŌJIN steps into the ring. Their grin widens as they seem to stifle laughter.
MYŌJIN
“The idea that I'm not going to try and take that championship off your shoulders makes me think you're not as smart as I assumed. I'm not interested in surviving you, I'm going to conquer you. Your suspicions? They couldn't be more wrong.”
Twirling the microphone in their hand, they tilt their head. Suddenly becoming much more serious as they stare toward the Champion.
MYŌJIN
“And quite frankly, I couldn't care any less about reputation. I want your title- and I'll have your title… So, do me a favor. Take this seriously, take this match seriously- because if you think you already have won, then… You'll have a VERY short-lived reign. As for now? Enjoy your celebration, I wouldn't want to bring the mood down.”
Ana studies the demeanor of MYŌJIN as their movements cease and they stand opposite her in the ring. Somnia smirks, shaking her head with a small chuckle as MYŌJIN’s words conclude. From here, the War Whisperer adjusts the title on her shoulder and advances toward MYŌJIN until they are nearly toe-to-toe.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“This is no celebration. This is warning. This is warning to you and all those who will come after you… all those who will fall after you. Because when you step into ring with Devil Herself? When you step into MY ring?”
“NO ONE SURVIVES!”
With this, Somnia drops her microphone to the side and hoists her Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship high overhead. “Vicious” hits the P.A. system and the crowd jeers at her, though she ignores their vocal response entirely. MYŌJIN’s eyes narrow at Ana, a nod coming from their head as they square themselves to the champion, unintimidated. It is on this image of the two standing nearly nose-to-nose inside the squared circle that we fade to our first advertisement break of the evening.
MATCH ONE
BLAZE FREYA vs LATOYA HIXX
The match was under way between the two relative newcomers to IPW, with Latoya Hixx circling around to the side as Blaze Freya kept a wary eye on her. The pair finally come together locking up. Blaze got the upper hand, pushing Hixx towards the corner before shoving her against the turnbuckle. The ref called for the break, and Blaze drew back before darting in with an elbow!
Hixx shook her head at the blow, and Blaze went for the whip! But Hixx reversed it, and Freya hit the opposite corner hard! Hixx ran across the ring leveling Blaze with a clothesline as she came from the corner, and then she went for a quick pin!
1...
Blaze kicked out!
Hixx wasted no time in planting a knee in Blaze's back, grabbing her arms to spread them as she yanked her backwards to apply pressure. Blaze shook her head, trying to get back to her feet or pull away as Hixx tightened the hold.
Blaze managed to get a foot under the ropes, and the ref waved Hixx off as Blaze rolled to the outside. The ref starts a count, and Hixx fumes before she runs back across the ring before diving out of the ring.
Suicide dive!
The pair go down in a heap, and Hixx is up first to drag Blaze to her feet. She starts to fire back, throwing punch after punch before grabbing Hixx by the hair. She drags her forward, slamming her head off the edge of the apron a few times. She rolls inside to break the count, then slides back out to continue battering Latoya Hixx.
Hixx is thrown to the inside, and Blaze climbs the ropes from the outside before going for the Double Stomp!
Cover!
1...
2....
Hixx kicks out! Blaze is furious, and she argues with the ref before turning to grab for Hixx!
Hixx grabs her arm, and rolls through going for the pin!
1...
2...
KICKOUT!
Blaze is fuming as she comes back to her feet, glaring at the laughing Hixx. And then Hixx charges at her, Running High Knee! Blaze is knocked off her feet, and Hixx leaps onto the turnbuckle going for the Frog Splash!
But Blaze gets her knees up! Hixx crashes to the mat, rolling around as she grabs at her ribs before Blaze smirks at her. Mocking her with a few shouts, and then she slaps at the back of her head before tearing her to her feet by the hair. Freya slaps her hard across the face, and then lifts her into the air for the BLAZEBUSTER (suplex transitioned into dead lift brainbuster)!
But Hixx twists free, landing on her feet before she grabs Blaze to bury both knees in her back!
'Double knee backbreaker '!
Blaze grabs at her back, rolling around the ring in pain as she kicks her foot against the mat. And Hixx drives a kick into her spine, rolling her over before she locks on the CROSSFACE! Blaze screams defiance, crawling towards the ropes as she tries to get a foot on the bottom rope!
Hixx gets a foot up, pushing hard on the ropes to push them away. And Blaze tries to twist away, but Hixx rolls through to keep the hold on as they hit the center of the ring! Blaze grabs at the mat, clawing for the ropes but Hixx tightens the hold as she yanks her hand back.
Freya's hand hovers over the mat, and she shakes her head at the ref before finally tapping out!
Hixx wins, and the ref holds her hand high as Blaze rolls from the ring!
The house lights dim and darken, the crowd “ooh” and “ahh” in response as they await with anticipation. The angelic wispy vocals of a choir punch through the house speakers. A video clicks on the screen. We open on the shot of an empty locker, the room is dark but is lit by orange neon lights. A man - no, not “a” man, THE man falls into frame. The crowd is heard coming to a rise as Mehrunes Smith drops into frame taking a seat on the bench. He removes his glasses and flashes the camera smile as he pauses for the response from the crowd indicating a live feed.
MEHRUNES SMITH
“My name is Mehrunes Smith.”
He cocks his head with an accomplished smirk.
“I am one half of the first-ever NLW Tag Team Champions, a former NLW Southern States Champion and one of the HOTTEST free agents on the entire Network. When I heard that Jason Long, THE Jason Long, was starting up his own promotion, I just had to pinch myself. “Surely not” I thought, “Must be some kind of April Fools joke” I assumed. But it seems as though I was wrong. I bet that I’m not the only one who was wrong either. But, if anyone could give the big dogs of the Network a run for their proverbial money? Jason Long’s gotta be the man to do it. Alls ya gotta do is look at First Contact. I mean, god DAMN. Who else could produce that kind of show?”
Smith leans back with a happy sigh.
“When I told Jason I was interested, I could see the dollar signs just spinnin’ round in his pupils. He is a man that knows value when he sees it. Which brings me to why I am here. Value. See it may not look it but Mehrunes Smith is a gambling man. I know my worth, I know my value, I know what I bring to the table and I ain’t the only one who knows. Jason Long knows. So why would I stay in a place where I feel myself plateaued? Complacent? This world has too many of the “just happy to be here” types. That just ain’t in my nature. So, I’ve got my chips and I’m layin’ them all out on the table. My legacy isn’t gonna be in the midcard of NLW. My legacy is gonna be lit up by the brightest lights possible.”
Smith’s smile has faded and he looks to the camera intently.
“My legacy will be bigger than wrestling.”
He cracks a half smile for a solitary second before he leans back.
“I got a little story to tell, a personal one, if I can be afforded the time.”
Smith pauses for the smattering of cheers and applause.
“I have a … well … it’s a “not secret”. Yeah. A “not secret”. It’s not something I’ve kept a secret, it's just something that has never come up. My father was a professional wrestler. My grandfather was a professional wrestler. My grandmother was involved in some aspect of the business. The reason why it never came up was because they all faded away into obscurity.
My granddaddy travelled all around the country back in the real old days, wrestling at circuses and fairs and the like. He died alone half crippled unable to remember his name. My old man?”
Smith pauses, looking to the floor. There is a slight struggle etched on his face. His eyes dart back to the camera.
“The late 80’s, early 90’s, it was a real rough period. I’m sure everyone knows the horror stories. The boy’s in the back with all sorts of less than legal substances, snortin’, shootin’ or smokin’ something, anything. My old man died of a heart attack at 50. The business was not kind to those in my family who were in it. I always told them that I never wanted to be a professional wrestler. But, as we know, when you’re born the son of a professional wrestler, who is also the son of a professional wrestler?”
“You’re cursed.”
Smith half smiles again. The seriousness on his face returns after a quick shake of his head.
“I’ve never told anyone this, it’ll be a great surprise to many who know me I’m sure, but I’ve never told anyone for the simple fact of how they turned out. They didn’t have legendary careers, they didn’t live lavish lives. This business used them, ate them up, spit them out, and left them to die. When I started my training, I took to it like a duck to water. I realised I knew a great deal about this business. I knew things that I didn’t know I knew, if that makes any sense. I chalk it up to osmosis. I absorbed a lot of knowledge about how this business works from being around the dark side of it for so long. It afforded me a great advantage over my many contemporaries on the come up.”
Smith shrugs and leans back. He waits a beat.
“In many ways, I’ve already surpassed the legacy of my father and my grandfather. The day I started goin’ down this path I made a promise to myself that not only would I surpass them, that I wasn’t gonna let myself fail and fade into obscurity. I vowed that no matter what it takes or how hard it gets, I’ll keep fighting to make it. Success is a multi-faceted thing. What success actually is varies from person to person. Some want money, nice car, nice house. Others want the perfect family complete with cliched white picket fence. I want to be the greatest. I want to be a World Champion. I want to be unforgettable…”
Smith brings himself to his feet.
“... I want to be…”
Smith returns his glasses to his face.
“INFINITE!”
Smith poses as the shot changes to a grass field. The camera moves through the blades of glass, stopping on a mirror propped up against a tree stump.
The shot fades to black.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“It’s been a stellar night thus far, Dom. Ana Somnia put the entire locker room on notice ensuring they all know that know one survives but MYŌJIN made it a point to let our champion know that there would be no fear there.”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Yeah, you’re definitely right there. I can’t wait to see that showdown. Then, earlier tonight we saw LaToya Hixx, the self proclaimed Boss, pick up a very nice submission win.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“She’s not my boss! Anyways, our next match, the first of two three-way matches here tonight, should be really good!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Absolutely! It looks like Tommy Hate is already in the ring, pacing…looking for a fight! Let’s take it down to Casey, standing in the center of the ring.”
CASEY KINCAID
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following triple threat match is scheduled for one fall!”
ONE FALL!!!
CASEY KINCAID
“Standing… no, Pacing back and forth in the ring is The Lord of the Red… TOMMY HATE!!!”
Hate looks laser focused as he awaits his opponents.
CASEY KINCAID
“Making their way to the ring next, from Poncha, Oklahoma, “BIG PAPA” LACHAPPA!!!.”
LaChappa struts onto the stage gut first, slamming his palms into his stomach before raising his sausage-finger balled fists into the air. He struts down the ramp, clearly the fan favorite as he looks over the crowd who have hands outstretched for him. He climbs between the ropes, slapping his gut before raising his fists into the air, not ashamed to give the girls a show, and jiggles his hips for them.
Machine Gun shots ring out through the arena for a couple of minutes before "Ricky" - Denzel Curry starts to blare out from the speakers. That's when the man of many nicknames, "The Divine One", "The Machine Gunn", "The Supreme Being" Ricky Gunn swaggers out pretty much like the swag of Conor McGregor. The crowd reacts with a chorus of boos as Ricky just looks out at them like someone looking out at people beneath them.
"I'ma act, one, two, stop the track, bring it back, what it do
See Ricky said "Never let nobody get the one up on you"
If they run up on you, hit 'em with a one, two
Or a bitch slap"
As bitch slap is sung, Ricky Gunn imitates bitch slapping the crowd. At the end of the lyrics, Ricky imitates firing a Machine Gun in the air like Tony Montana did in that one scene in Scarface. Ricky then soaks in the boos from the haters who are only feeding his ego more as he swagger walks down to the ring. Stopping on his way to make a gun signal towards the ring and pretending to pull the trigger before laughing and heading down to the ring.
CASEY KINCAID
“And their opponent, from Orlando, Florida… he is the Machine Gun… RICKY GUNN!!!.”
Once at the ring, Ricky jumps up onto the apron, before jumping over the top rope and into the ring. Now in the ring, Ricky grabs a microphone and starts to sing along to the lyrics before dropping the microphone out of the ring like a pipe bomb with a smirk that gives off nothing but egotism. His opponents stare him down as they begin to walk towards him slowly. Gunn stretches against the ropes.
MATCH TWO
BIG PAPA LACHAPPA vs RICKY GUNN vs TOMMY HATE
DING! DING!
At the sound of the bell, RICKY GUNN drops down and rolls out to the outside of the ring. BIG PAPA LACHAPPA and TOMMY HATE turn to look at Gunn and then back to each other. They shrug before Tommy Hates throws a RIGHT HAND to Lachappa’s jaw. He shakes it off. Another RIGHT HAND. Then a rapid fire RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT. Lachappa teeters a bit from the frenzy of punches. Tommy Hate, with malice in his eyes, runs the ropes, rebounds and throws a vicious ELBOW SHOT to Lachappa. Lachappa stumbles back three steps but stays up right, trying to shake off the elbow. Tommy Hate runs past Lachappa and hits the ropes, then runs back past him and rebounds on the opposite ropes, Tommy Hate leaps going for a FLYING ELBOW- NO! Lachappa catches him in a BEARHUG!
Tommy Hate fights and flails his arms from side to side, trying to get the big man to loosen the hold. Ricky Gunn, seeing the dire situation that Tommy Hate has gotten in, slides in the ring and CHOP BLOCKS Lachappa, who falls to a knee and releases Tommy Hate. Gunn springs back to his feet and looks at Tommy and they both look down at LaChappa. They run and bounce off the ropes and in unison hit a RUNNING KNEE on LaChappa’s head. The big man goes down hard and Ricky Gunn immediately pins him.
ONE-BROKEN UP!
Tommy Hate grabs Gunn’s leg almost as soon as the pinfall is made and drags him off of LaChappa. Ricky Gunn stands and gets in Tommy’s face and SHOVES him. Tommy walks back and goes head to head with Ricky Gunn as they jaw back and forth with each other. Ricky Gunn SHOVES Tommy Hate again who lets the momentum push him back into the ropes and he comes back and goes for a clothesline that Ricky Gunn ducks. The two of them hit opposite sides of the rings before meeting back in the middle with a DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE! All three men are down on the mat.
Big Papa Lachappa is first to his feet, or to his knees, rather. The referee checks in on him. Ricky Gunn and Tommy Hate pull themselves up in opposite corners, still dazed. Lachappa is able to get to his feet and sees Tommy Hate in the corner. He SLAPS HIS BELLY THREE TIMES and takes off running.
GIGA IMPACT
His magnificent midsection into Tommy Hate. Lachappa turns his attention to Gunn, slumped in the corner. He begins patting his stomach again and again he storms his stomach straight into the second corner…
GIGA IMPACT
…SQUASHING Gunn. Lachappa again looks at Tommy who is trying to stand back up. He begins patting with both hands and stomping on the ground. He charges but TOMMY HATE MOVES and LACHAPPA NAILS THE EMPTY CORNER. The ring shifts a bit on the impact, and Lachappa backs out of the corner, hurting. Tommy GRABS A HALF NELSON
SURRENDERPL- NOOO! The weight is too much and Tommy’s legs buckle as Lachappa falls on top of him. His SHOULDERS ARE DOWN!
ONE!
TW- KICKOUT!!!
Lachappa tries to get up, making it to all fours. Ricky, shaking the cobwebs out after the corner move sees both men on the ground. He runs in and grabs Lachappa’s neck and hits a SPINNING NECKBREAKER. He makes the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
TH-KICKOUT!!!
Lachappa powers Gunn off of him but Gunn lands on his feet just as Tommy Hate is getting up. Gunn jumps, and wraps his legs around the neck of Hate for a HEADSCISSORS TAKEDOWN and parlays it into an ARMBAR in the center of the ring. Tommy grabs and reaches, trying to find a way to get out of the hold. Lachappa is back up now and jogs over and JUMPS! Gunn catches him out of the corner of his guy and breaks the hold and BAILS out of the way. LACHAPPA SPLASHES TOMMY HATE! Gunn runs in with a BASEMENT DROPKICK to Lachappa and goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Gunn immediately covers Tommy Hate.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
He slaps the mat in frustration and gets up and tries to pick Lachappa up. He has difficulty, so instead he moves over to Tommy Hate. He begins to pick him up and this time it is Tommy Hate who locks in a GUILLOTINE CHOKE! Hate has locked it in well and Gunn is fading fast. Just before the ref can check on Gunn, Lachappa hits a BIG BOOT to Ricky Gunn who was almost out, breaking the hold. He tries for an ELBOW DROP on Hate, but Tommy is able to move and Lachappa again shakes the ring with the impact. Tommy Hate walks over behind Lachappa and bends down. He grabs the big man by the waist and deadlifts… and strains… AND LIFTS! HE HAS LACHAPPA UP… GERMAN SUPLEX!!!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
Ricky Gunn comes in and hits a STANDING CORKSCREW SHOOTING STAR PRESS on Lachappa. Before he can make the cover, Tommy throws him off and hooks Lachappa’s leg.
ONE!
TWO!
BROKEN UP BY GUNN!!
Both Hate and Gunn are back up and face to face. LEFT JAB! RIGHT CROSS! RIGHT HOOK! LEFT UPPERCUT! Gunn stumbles back but immediately steps in and LOW KICK! SPINNING BACK KI- No, Hate ducks under it, and grabs him from behind locking in a FULL NELSON SLEEPER! Gunn immediately steps towards the turnbuckle and JUMPS to the middle, using it to leverage himself back and into a pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Both men are quickly back to their feet and staring each other down!
THIS IS AWESOME!
THIS IS AWESOME!
THIS IS AWES-OHHHHH!
DOUBLE
LACHAPPA USED SPLASHED!
(Jumping Crossbody)
Big Papa Lachappa takes out both men, and the crossbody’s impact sends Tommy to the outside. Lachappa gets to his feet and picks Ricky Gunn up. And begins to maul him.
ALL YOU CAN BEAT BUFFET
(Vicious forearm clubs to the sides of an opponent's head)
LaChappa continues to rock Gunn. He backs him into the corner. Gunn is dazed. LaChappa lifts him up on the turnbuckles and climbs up onto the second buckle, the ring post groaning under the weight. The crowd begins to get anxious as Big Papa LaChappa looks around. In an amazing feat of athleticism, LaChappa jumps.
MEAT SPI-NO!! TOP ROPE POWERBOMB!!!
The ring shakes with force. LaChappa had tried to go for his top rope frankensteiner but instead Ricky Gunn was able to hook his legs on the buckle and leverage it enough to drop LaChappa with the powerbomb. Gunn stands up on the top turnbuckle, careful to balance himself. He taunts the crowd before leaping, and flipping…
450 SPLASH!
HE HOOKS LACHAPPA’S LEG!
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
NO!!!!!! TOMMY HATE JUMPS IN FOR THE SAVE JUST BEFORE THE REFS THREE COUNT!
Gunn gets to his feet, frustrated and angrily turns his sights on Hate. He WHIPS Hate towards the ropes, but Tommy Hate is able to REVERSE it and WHIP Gunn into the ropes. Before Gunn rebounds, Hate charges in and jumps.
RPK (Rocket-Propelled Kick)
(Bicycle Kick over the top ropes)
The crowd gasps as Gunn takes a nasty spill outside. LaChappa is back to his feet and GRABS at Hate from behind but Hate is able to spin out of it. LaChappa goes for a CLOTHESLINE but Hate ducks under it. As LaChappa turns back towards Hate, he is met with a KICK TO THE GUT…
DEATH'S HEAD
( Paradigm Shift.)
Tommy Hate makes the cover!
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
DING! DING! DING!
CASEY KINCAID
“Here is your winner, by pinfall…. TOMMY HATE!!!!!!!!!.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“He started the match laser focused and nothing changed! Tommy Hate with one heck of a debut here in IPW!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“You can say that again. Ricky Gunn has nothing to hang his head about either, what an amazing performance that came up just a bit short. That powerbomb… phew, it was something else!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Everyone felt LaChappa’s presence tonight, no matter which end of the punishment he was on. What a match! Still to come, our second triple threat match of the night… AND DON’T GO ANYWHERE! We have a National Openweight number one contenders match with Alastar Touchdown taking on Spike Kane!!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“After what unfolded at First Contact, you will definitely not want to miss that one. Let’s take a break to pay our sponsors, but stay tuned!”
The feed returns from ringside to find ourselves with the owner of Infinite Pro Wrestling sitting within his office, speaking with someone on his mobile phone, but is soon interrupted with the knocking of someone at the door.
JASON LONG
“Here, mate. I’ll see you in a bit, I’ve got someone here… Yeah, come on in—”
The door soon swings open to find all four members of The Dead End Express staring down the owner and large smiles along the faces of both Hank Jr and Jack Haggard. They’re both aware that they’ve been rewarded with something and they’ve come to collect their prize.
JASON LONG
“—well, you've got some cheek to show your faces around here and completely outnumber me like this thinking that I’ve got nobody to back me up, huh.”
JACK HAGGARD
“Yer underestimatin’ us if you think we wanna pounce on you like we just pounced on all the teams ya thrown our way, boss. Now, if I wanted to hurt ya? I’d have done it already with the way ya just booked two bum losers into the main event with a title match—and considerin’ that we’re supposed to be ‘rewarded’ and all that shit? Ya better have somethin’ fuckin’ good for us.”
Jason leaned forward and smiled at the comments made by Jack.
JASON LONG
“You’re right, but here’s the thing, Jack. They’ve won their matches in the past before the Tag Team Clusterfuck Gauntlet… whereas you, well, you didn’t win but you didn’t lose. That was a simple reward for them two, and you? Well, you won all of your matches… three in one night, a surprise that nobody expected since you’ve beaten the freshest faces around the network, the most extreme tag team in the history of the network, and then Donzig-gun.”
HANK HAGGARD SR.
“And that means what for them, boy? Come on, start spittin’ what we wantin’ to hear.”
JASON LONG
“Okay, relax… Hear me out, Jack.”
JACK HAGGARD
“I’m listenin’.”
He pauses for a moment as he stands up from his seat.
JASON LONG
“I rewarded them with a championship match for the National Openweight Championship, but… for one of you? I am giving you a chance to fight for the Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship — the one slight problem is that… I can’t reward the both of you with that title shot, so I have to settle with one person challenging for the championship, and as much as you impressed me the most in that match, Jack?”
Another pause.
JASON LONG
“The match goes to the man who got the most pinfalls in that match, which is Hank Haggard Jr.”
Jason gestured toward Hank Haggard Jr as he looked to have been surprised with the announcement of himself taking the chance at Infinite Pro Wrestling’s top prize.
HANK HAGGARD JR.
“Yeah… yeah, now, ya see that ol girl ya got there as ya champ? She’s not gonna be protected any fuckin’ longer, I tell ya. I want her in two weeks, ya hear that? Two weeks, I want that title match—”
Jason places his hand up to stop Hank from speaking any further.
JASON LONG
“Hank, that won’t be happening because the next challenger is already lined up as MYOJIN and they’ll be clashing one another at Night of Champions in a few weeks, but I’ve already got you lined up as the challenger to whoever wins that match at Night of Champions, and you’ll be facing them at the next pay-per-view, Royal Crown!”
HANK HAGGARD JR.
“Ya gonna make me WAIT for my prize???”
JASON LONG
“You’ll have to be patient, Hank. MYOJIN captured his shot before you were even ready to compete in your match, and as for you, Jack? I have something lined up for you in the future that you’re gonna love. And it’ll be something that you might share with everyone in The Dead End Express. But, for now, that’s all I have for you. I do hope that this is exactly what you’ve been looking forward to.”
Jack and Hank look at one another before nodding their heads to one another, and then, the feed slowly fades away into a commercial break.
The feed slowly fades back in from it’s commercial break, bringing us to the visual of El Rey – all on his own this time around – and his head kept facing down, slowly nodding to himself before bringing his head up to look right into the lens of the camera recording him as he began to speak.
EL REY
“I’m tired…”
A pause, followed with a beat.
EL REY
“...of being treated unfairly when others get such a loveable treatment for doing the bare fucking minimum. I’m tired of it, and so are others – if you account for Zoran seeing this as an unfair booking – and all I want and need right now is to be treated fairly just like how everyone else gets treated. You’d have to understand it from my own point of view to realise what I’m talking about. I am a former, greatest, and youngest, X*Crown Champion that this network has ever seen and I’d still be reigning if it wasn’t for The Rumble. Since then, I came here, to Infinite Pro Wrestling, to prove myself back in the lineup of others and to fight through everyone and anyone that is to be put in front of me.”
Rey smirked, chuckling to himself.
EL REY
“Look at what I did to Aren Mstislav… I gave him the match of his career that made him stand out in front of everyone and I proved myself as the monarchy that holds the reins here in Infinite Pro Wrestling. I made him become a star in just one match, that’s how fucking good I am and nobody here believes me, not even the owner of the damn company. So, here’s my proclamation for everyone and a little message to our ‘wonderful’ National Openweight Champion. That championship has one hell of a champion right now, and it’s got some nifty challengers lined up for it, which is why I want in on that prize. I don’t care who walks out tonight as a contender, I don’t care who walks out of London Heatwave with the title, all I care about is getting my shot at the prize.”
A pause.
EL REY
“I care about getting the fucking respect that I deserve… and if that means becoming champion gets me what I’m deserved ever since I’ve walked through the doors? Then, it’s simple because we all know just how good of a champion I can be. It’s just about time that I do it again.”
And with those words spoken, we soon faded to black.
The advertisement for Tap Out 5: Collins vs Diamond zooms out and we see Cross Recobba watching a monitor backstage, smiling at his handiwork. His expression changes as Jack Diamond walks into the shot, face to face with Cross. The two stare each other down intently as the crowd in the arena roar to life, split between Diamond Club chants and boos. Just as Cross is about to say something, fire in his eyes, Jack smiles. Jack holds up a hand.
JACK DIAMOND
“Easy now… easy. Look, I didn’t come here to jump you again and I didn’t come here expecting to have to fight you.”
Cross hasn’t taken his eyes off Jack’s but as Jack nods down to his hand, Cross follows his gaze. Jack lifts up a halliburton briefcase. Jack steps to the side and lays the briefcase on a nearby bar, unclasping the latches. As he opens it, light dances over both his and Cross’ face. Jack pulls out the HCW Diamond Championship Belt. He holds it out to Cross who looks at the belt, then raises an eyebrow to Jack.
CROSS RECOBA
“You came all this way to bring my title to me?”
JACK DIAMOND
“We may have had our disputes in the past. Hell, we may have had our disputes as of late...”
CROSS RECOBA
“If you want to call blindsiding me, stealing my belongings and holding my company hostage a “dispute” then sure, we’ve had our disputes.”
JACK DIAMOND
“Ah, but see… I’m nothing if not resourceful, and a man of my word. I told you, no strings attached, you name me your Overheated rep then I hand back over your title. No reason to wait any longer, besides I have other business to attend to.”
CROSS RECOBA
“What business?”
JACK DIAMOND
“Oh you’ll like this. Stay tuned… Boss…ha ha, Oh… and congrats on the new championship!”
With that, Jack walks off smiling, leaving Cross to stand there incredulously. We cut back to ringside where Chloe Hartwell and Domnic Morrissey sit also looking like they are in shock of Jack’s good deed in returning the HCW Championship to Cross.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Well, what do you know? Jack Diamond actually just handed the championship back over to Cross Recoba. I guess there IS honour among thieves.”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Yeah, as shocking as that was, what do you think he meant by “other business”?”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“There is no telling, but one thing I’ve learned thus far is that when Jack has “business” to attend, he leads no stone unturned on his path to success. One thing I DO know though, is it’s time for our main eve-”
Chloe Harwell is interrupted as the synthwave beats to ‘Sanjuro’ begin to play and the crowd inside of the OVO Arena become unglued as the music is played overhead signalling the arrival of the owner of IPW, Jason Long! The curtain pulls back just as the chorus hits and Jason walks through with his arms extended out to a thunderous ovation! The King stands right at the edge of the stage with his arms out-stretched and with fire shooting up from behind at both sides of him, putting on an entrance only he could make.
CASEY KINCAID
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… PLEASE WELCOME THE OWNER OF INFINITE PRO WRESTLING… JAAASSOOONNNNN LOOOOOOOONNNNNGGGGGGGG!!!!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Listen to this crowd, Chloe!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Ireland may be home but these fans in London are showing their absolute appreciation for our visionary leader, Mr. Long! I had on my sheet though that it was time for our main event, but obviously the boss had other plans.”
Jason made his way down the steps and began to walk around the ringside area, hitting along the hands of every fan that reached out before leaping onto the ring apron and entering the ring, looking around the entirety of the arena and seeing all of the fans still on their feet for the owner. Once the music began to die down a little, the chants were getting louder and louder.
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
The owner is soon handed a microphone by Casey Kincaid as he stands back into the middle of the ring and continues to look around the room, before bowing his head at each side of the ring, giving his respects to everyone that chants for the company.
JASON LONG
“You guys are too kind! Too kind! What an amazing night we’ve had! I am so proud of what we’ve been able to accomplish in such a short time. Infinite Pro Wrestling is quickly becoming one of the most talked about, most must-see companies on the Network… and much of that has to do with the passion of all our fans. So thank you!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“We really do have the best fans in the business, Chloe!”
JASON LONG
“There are so many great things happening in IPW, one of them being this wonderful London tour that we kicked off tonight. Our next show in this building, two weeks from now, will be “London Heatwave” All this while we continue to paint a clearer picture on who will be facing off at Royal Crown!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“That next pay-per-view is really shaping up to be something special, Dom..”
The crowd pops at the mention of the first pay-per-view that IPW will hold in London, England. Jason gets a serious look on his face and holds up a hand. The crowd settles.
JASON LONG
“I’m humbled at how successful we’ve been so far. With the amount of success and growth we’ve seen though, it’s become noticeably clear to me that I can’t run overall operations AND day to day business by myself. I need someone that I can trust to come in to help oversee day to day tasks. And oh boy, have I found that person…
CHLOE HARTWELL
“But who?”
Jason Long motions towards the curtain as the fans buzz. The lights dim.
JASON LONG
“So without any further ado, let me introduce you to the Commissioner of Infinite Pro Wrestling, two time X*Crown champion…he’s like a big brother to me…fellow Icon!
JACKKKKK...
FUCKKKKKINNNNNN’...
DIAMONNNNNNNND!!!!”
The crowd are stunned in silence before they hear--
I'M GONNA BE ... ICONIC!
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Oh you’ve GOT to be kidding me!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Jack Diamond… is now the commissioner… I… I just, wow.”
Jack comes through the curtain to a loud pop. He looks around, smiles big and continues down the ramp. As Jack Diamond makes it to the ring, he and Jason Long embrace in a bro hug before Long hands Jack the microphone and exits the ring. Jack looks around and listens to the mixed response from the crowd, not being able to remove the smile from his face.
JACK DIAMOND
“LONDON, ENGLAND!!! IPW just got a little more… ICONIC!”
Again there are some boos but it’s mostly raucous cheering inside the OVO arena.
JACK DIAMOND
“Now, I think it’s important that before we get started, I come out here and address my actions as of late to all of you. For those of you who may not know… I, along with Jason, wrestle in another company in America… ran by none other than our Infinite Pro National Openweight Champion, Cross Recoba.”
There is a loud pop for Cross.
JACK DIAMOND
“Yeah, give him a hand, he deserves every bit of it! Anyways, many of you were upset that I attacked Cross after his match at First Contact but to be honest with you, I knew it was the best way to get his attention. It was never anything personal, just business. Now I will go on to compete for a spot at Night of Champions… where who knows, maybe I’ll even get too square off with a Jamrocker! Anyways, that is not why we are here tonight. We are here for that!”
Jack points to the curtain where a podium has been set up and something is covered with a black sheet. A stagehand removes the sheet to reveal the same halliburton briefcase that Jack had Cross’ HCW Diamond title in.
JACK DIAMOND
“In just a few short weeks, we will be live at the O2 Arena for IPW Royal Crown! And Jason and I have decided that there is nothing in wrestling quite as Royal as… A BRIEFCASE BATTLE ROYAL!!!”
The crowd comes unglued again at the news.
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“I can get behind that!”
JACK DIAMOND
“This will be a 15 person Battle Royal, and the winner of the match will be awarded that very briefcase. But the gift inside will be the golden ticket! An IPW Championship contract, good for ANY singles championship match, any time, any place! Maybe you will win it and immediately cash in on Cross Recoba to go for his National Openweight Championship. Maybe you cash in on Ana Somnia. Or, maybe you hold it for the most opportune time and seal your destiny in the record books of IPW!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“This is huge, Dom! The winner of that match, if played smart, can change the landscape of IPW!”
JACK DIAMOND
“So get ready London! We are about to have a very exciting Summer! I can’t wait to, alongside my little brother, Jason Long, lead this company to new heights! And to all of you in the back, be ready. An opportunity like this doesn’t come around every day! Infinite Icon… OUT!”
With that, Jack drops the mic and exits the ring to thunderous applause and cheers. He passes by the podium and stops, grabbing the briefcase and holding it in the air again to loud cheers.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“What an announcement! Jack is commissioner, the Royal Crown has become even more royal…and we STILL have the main event RIGHT NOW!!!”
GOOD TIMES GONE!
AND YOU MISSED EM!
WHAT'S GONE WRONG
IN YOUR SYSTEM?!
Out comes ALASTOR, followed behind by JIMI COOLDOWN, Hawaiian shirt over his gear and lackadaisical expression on his face. He brings a cigarette up to his lips as he makes his way to the ring, blowing smoke in the faces of the front row who boo and jeer incessantly. Throwing garbage in his direction which he takes with a smile.
CASEY KINCAID
Introducing first, accompanied by JIMI COOLDOWN, he is one half of the Jamrockers, The Master of Disaster, ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN!
ALASTOR stands on the apron and flicks his cigarette at the ring announcer, wordlessly telling him to fuck off. ALASTOR enters the ring to another chorus of boos.
WHEN YA GOT SO MUCH TO SAY, IT'S CALLED GRATITUDE
AND THAT'S RIGHT!
Marching towards the hard camera, ALASTOR flips off the screen before pointing down at his crotch with a smirk.
"ANYTHING GOES!"
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!!!"
As a pyro erupts at the top of the rampway SPIKE emerges through it, a snarl on his face.
"Yeah, I come alive, I'll survive, take on anything
So paint a target on my back let 'em come for me
I don't fall, don't quit, don't ever sleep
'Cause, I'm on another level that you'll never reach
IF YOU SEEK FORGIVENESSSSSS
You'll get nothing!
You'll get nothing from MEEE!!!"
He rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring, stopping in the center, sat crossed legged he stares towards the hard camera.
"You will never know, it's the price I pay
Look into my eyes, we are not the same
Yeah, this is where you fall apart
Yeah, this is where you break
'Cause I'm in control and you'll know my name
'Cause I gave my life, gave it everything"
He rises to his feet, and climbs up onto the turnbuckle, shouting out to the audience.
"Yeah, this is where you fall apart
Yeah, this is where you break
To everybody who doubted
Get on your knees and bow down!
Get on your knees and bow down!"
He extends his arms, with a smirk in time with the music. Expecting those around, to bow down, just as the music fades and the lights return to normal.
MATCH FOUR - MAIN EVENT
NATIONAL OPENWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP – NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN vs SPIKE KANE
ALASTOR and SPIKE stand in their respective corners, SPIKE glaring a hole through ALASTOR, while ALASTOR simply smirks back at SPIKE with JIMI COOLDOWN acting as cheerleader for ALASTOR. The bell rings and SPIKE KANE explodes out of the corner, charging towards Alastar, who cleverly grabs the top rope and swings his legs through, sliding to the outside. Tapping his head a few times causing the crowd to groan, and SPIKE to see red. The God of Xtreme rolls outside the ring himself around the ring post from the Jamrockers. He begins to come storming around the ring, but ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN is too fast for him, and he leads SPIKE on a merry chase. Once….twice….three times around the ring! At ringside JIMI simply stands with his back against the barricade and his arms in the air showing the referee he’s not getting involved.
ALASTOR leads SPIKE round one more time, before sliding into the ring and running circles around the referee, with the referee distracted, as SPIKE comes around the corner of the ring, JIMI steps in and catches SPIKE off guard with a YOU’RE A NAGE right onto the steel stairs! COOLDOWN quickly backs off, and begins to laugh trying to convince the referee that SPIKE simply fell over the steel steps chasing his tag team partner. With the momentum certainly on his side, ALASTOR comes out of the ring once more, this time to drag SPIKE to his feet, and roll him into the ring.
The Jamrockers pose together to a huge chorus of boo’s from the crowd, before ALASTOR climbs up onto the ring apron, as SPIKE is slowly but surely getting back to his feet. ALASTOR pulls on the ropes and then leaps over them taking SPIKE down with a SLINGSHOT LEG LARIAT. In an instant ALASTOR grabs KANE in a HEADLOCK and proceeds to give The God of Xtreme a NOOGIE!
SPIKE roars with rage, but ALASTOR sinks the headlock in harder, even as SPIKE tries to get to a knee. The crowd will SPIKE on, which seems to confuse him, as he staggers to a knee, and then leans backwards into the ropes before pushing ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN off of him and sending him to the ropes. SPIKE lunges for a huge LARIAT as ALASTOR comes back on the rebound, but he ducks under SPIKE’s wild lunge, before jumping onto the second rope and rebounding with a huge SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY that takes the former X*Crown Champion down. ALASTOR quickly scrambles for the pinfall…
ONE!
-KICKOUT!
SPIKE KANE kicks out almost immediately after the one count, ALASTOR tries to press his advantage but SPIKE arches up and straight up HEADBUTTS ALASTOR right in the face! The Master of Disaster stumbles backwards, the shot connecting with his nose. Giving SPIKE enough time to pull himself up by the ropes. He cracks his neck, before cracking his knuckles ready to advance on his fallen foe, but ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN begins screaming at the ref, calling him over to check his nose. With the referee’s back turned JIMI COOLDOWN once again takes the advantage, with both SPIKE and the referee distracted he slides into the ring before kicking SPIKE in the gut and hitting him with the…
ACE IN THE HOLE!!!
The crowd are raining down boos as COOLDOWN quickly removes himself from the ring, and ALASTOR miraculously recovers from a supposed broken nose, scrambling on his knees across the ring to pin SPIKE again. The referee is clearly frustrated with the Jamrockers but slides in for the count.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!!?!?
-WAIT-
The referee is about to call for the bell, when they notice SPIKE KANE’s foot on the bottom rope. The crowd erupt as the referee tries to point this out to ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN, who thinks he’s won. JIMI begins to shout at his partner to warn him, as SPIKE pulls himself up in the corner. ALASTOR realises what is happening and turns around, right into a..
BLOODY SUNDAY!!!!
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN hits the deck like a sack of potatoes, and SPIKE kneels down to cover, but before he does he stops and smirks, changing his mind. He drags ALASTOR to his feet and whips him off the ropes once more, ALASTOR comes back as SPIKE ducks down, ALASTOR rolls over his back, before turning on a dime and spinning SPIKE around to go for a kick to the mid-section, but SPIKE catches the leg and pulls ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN into him before arching backwards and delivering a huge BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX that sends ALASTOR across the ring. The momentum sends him back to his feet staggering towards SPIKE, but KANE means business and he kicks ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN in the gut before forcing his head between his legs, and he grabs the waist of ALASTOR.
FREYA’S WINGS!!!!
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN folds up like an accordion as he takes a version of the Canadian Destroyer, before SPIKE reaches for him and leans over to pin the Crazy White Boy. The crowd are on their feet.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!!
The crowd begin to erupt.
-NO WAIT-
While the referee was counting, JIMI managed to placed ALASTOR’s foot on the bottom rope, and the referee only see’s ALASTOR’s foot on the ropes and calls off the three count, explaining to SPIKE that the fall didn’t count. The God of Xtreme slams the mat in frustration as he glares at JIMI COOLDOWN, who simply smirks and laughs back at him. With a menacing look at JIMI COOLDOWN, SPIKE drags ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN back to his feet, before hooking the arm and lifting him into the air for the SPIKE IMPALER~ but as he does so COOLDOWN jumps onto the ropes, which causes SPIKE to stop, he goes to boot COOLDOWN, but misses as JIMI simply jumps back off the apron. SPIKE loses his grip and drops ALASTOR behind him, the referee tries to lean over the ropes and tell JIMI COOLDOWN to stay out of it. SPIKE, pissed off, turns around to see ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN back on his feet who quickly….
LOW BLOW!!!
ALASTOR goes for a full blown punt kick, right into the KANE family jewels. SPIKE’s face changes instantly as he grabs at his privates and drops to the floor. The referee turns around, having not noticed to see SPIKE on the floor, and ALASTOR begins to climb the turnbuckle. The crowd suddenly erupts and both members of the Jamrockers begins to look around at what is causing the noise.
PRICE appears in the crowd, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in his hands. He is making a bee-line right towards the ring, and on the top rope ALASTOR, is trying to shout a warning to COOLDOWN. JIMI COOLDOWN turns as PRICE hops over the barrier, the crowd go nuts as he starts swinging the bat. Back in the ring ALASTOR turns back to face SPIKE, and leaps through the air.
TOUCHDOOOOOOWN~!!!
BUT WAIT!!!
SPIKE had time to recover, and as ALASTOR leaps off the top rope SPIKE KANE rises to his feet, catching ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN and delivering a brutal…
BLOOD GOD’S WRATH!!!
As SPIKE hits the pop-up powerbomb, but with extra elevation rather than a pop up, ALASTOR slams into the mat, and SPIKE is about to cover, when JIMI COOLDOWN rolls into the ring, running away from PRICE who has a sick grin on his face. As COOLDOWN gets to his feet, he slowly turns around and bumps into SPIKE, who smirks back as COOLDOWN begins to slowly back away. He bumps into the ropes as SPIKE approaches, but as PRICE is about to start climbing up the apon, bat in hand - the referee decides this is too far, and goes to try and prevent PRICE from entering the ring. The two begin a tussle, as SPIKE grabs JIMI COOLDOWN by the throat before…
DOUBLE LOW BLOW!!!
As SPIKE was planning designs of pain for JIMI COOLDOWN, ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN had crawled to his knees, and just as COOLDOWN sends a swift kick to the crown jewels of SPIKE KANE, so too does ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN but from the other side. With a speed that would make you think they were telepathic, COOLDOWN slips through the middle rope onto the apron, as ALASTOR scoops up SPIKE into a piledriver position. JIMI COOLDOWN launches over the ropes, and the Jamrockers hit SPIKE.
TUNA MELTZER DRIVER!
PRICE is absolutely livid on the ringside, as COOLDOWN quickly scrambles out the opposite side of the ring, ALASTOR goes for the cover…
ONE!
….TWO!!
……THREE!!!!
CASEY KINCAID
Here is your winner, and the NEW Openweight Championsip, Number One contender…..ALASTORRRRRR TOUCHDOWWWWWWWN!!
The referee attempts to raise ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN’s arm, but the Jamrockers get out of the ring pretty sharpish, as PRICE finally has free reign to enter the ring, he chases off the Jamrockers before checking on SPIKE. ALASTOR and JIMI slowly back pedal up the ramp, pointing and smirking, making belt gestures as they do so.
The crowd begins to cheer loudly, but not just at the belt motions. At the top of the ramp, Cross Recoba stands with both the HCW Diamond Championship and the INFINITE PRO NATIONAL OPENWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP draped over each shoulder. Jimi and Alastor sense something and turn around a few feet in front of Cross. Cross smiles at Alastor and removes his Openweight championship, holding it high in the air as the crowd cheers.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“There you have it ladies and gents! Alastor Touchdown is on a collision course with Cross Recoba and what a match that will be! That is all the time we have tonight, make sure you tune in in two weeks for LONDON HEATWAVE!!! For Dominic Morrissey, and all the IPW Crew... GOODNIGHT!!!”
The show's feed comes to an end.
ADRENALINE V
LIVE! from The OVO Arena Wembley in London, England.
Sunday, July 3rd, 2022.
7:00 P.M. (GMT) – On The XHF Network.
“It's a fucking war now, even the score now
They said it so they can watch it all get torn down
Going blind now, outta my mind now
And it they watch it they can fuck around and find out
'Cause it's a war
'Cause it's a war”
‘War Ender’ by ONI begins to play as the feed comes to life and pyro erupts along the stage, all of the LCD boards light up with the Adrenaline graphics and as the pyro ends? We’re given a panoramic shot of the entirety of The OVO Arena Wembley in the heart of London, England. The arena is SOLD OUT at a maximum capacity of over ten thousand fans packed inside, on their feet, and chanting.
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
As the music continues to play along, the camera feed pans down towards where the commentary table resides at the ringside area, where we’re met with the ever present team of Chloe Hartwell and Dominic Morrissey. A wave from Morrissey and a smile from Hartwell.
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Adrenaline! We’ve moved from Ireland and we’ve touched down inside of the United Kingdom! We’re LIVE inside of the heart of the city of London and we’ve got one hell of a show lined up for each and every single one of you ahead of our London debut show!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“That we sure do and there’s no better way to move onto our first supershow in just two weeks than our main event – two men who have some personal issues with one another after the events of what went down at First Contact, they’ll fight it out for a chance to become a contender to Cross Recoba’s championship at London Heatwave! Alastor Touchdown of The Jamrockers, Spike Kane of Chaos Theory, a shot at the National Openweight Championship on the line and it’s our main event tonight!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Although, sadly, here we are to break the news for you about one of our three way matches of the night and it’s not good news either. Travel issues have stopped both Jules King and Savannah Andrews from entering into the country which leaves Aaron Asphyxia without any opponents tonight. That match has now been called off, but we’ve been told that we’ll be hearing from El Rey tonight about his future here in Infinite Pro Wrestling to replace it, and from what we’ve been told? It’s something big that’s on his mind.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“And the hits keep on coming because later on tonight? We’ll be hearing from the owner himself and he’s brought along someone to keep things in control here in Infinite Pro Wrestling when he’s not around! The names have been circulating for quite some time now about who it could simply be! Names like Bobby Barratt, Rob Arnold, James Dragon, and so much more have been in consideration! Tonight, we’ll find out who will be the commissioner of Infinite Pro Wrestling!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“But that’s not all from the owner tonight, because he’ll be handing away the chance of a lifetime to the winners of the Tag Team Clusterfuck Gauntlet – The Dead End Express! They’ll be claiming their award from Jason Long here tonight and there’s been many circulations as to what it might just be! Tag Team Championships have been thrown up in the air as the plan, but I’ve got my own hearing from the owner and he’s saying that The Dead End Express are going to be rewarded well tonight!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“How about we focus back onto the action and show off a three way rookie showcase match that’ll be bringing three new names to the mix and showing just what they can bring to the table! Big Papa LaChappa, he’ll be there to bring the love against two men who are here to prove themselves. Tommy Hate, a known bloodsport fighter. Ricky Gunn, who we’ve seen before lately taking out Leo Reza and shelving him entirely. These three are hungry for that spotlight and we’re giving them just that! Who’ll walk out of here tonight with their first win?”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“And what about the match that’s been demanded by a certain BOSS of the ring, eh? Latoya Hixx has supposedly demanded this match to happen against her with Blaze Freya and realistically, hasn’t stopped talking about bringing a women’s division to Infinite Pro Wrestling but she’s here claiming to begin one by defeating a former tag partner of hers, Blaze Freya!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“But we’re beginning tonight with something that a whole lot of people have been waiting weeks for, that being the coronation of our inaugural Infinite Pro Heavyweight Champion… THE UNDISPUTED… ANA SOMNIA! SHE’S KICKING OFF THE SHOW AND THAT STARTS RIGHT NOW!”
YOU MAKE ME VICIOUS!
WATCH AS I MAKE THE PAIN MY MISTRESS!
YOU CAN CALL ME MISS MALICIOUS,
I'LL DRESS YOU UP IN STITCHES;
NO, I CANNOT RESIST THIS!
“Vicious” by Halestorm kicking through the P.A. demands the attention of every fan in the OVO Arena Wembley as an enveloping arterial red lighting overwhelms the entire venue. Pandemonium courses through the capacity crowd while a thick fog pervades the entrance stage, emphasizing the foreboding atmosphere. As Lzzy Hale's throaty, powerful vocals continue over the band’s harsh guitars and a vibrant white flashing light overtakes the arena, the Devil Herself saunters through the curtain and steps into the ominous mise-en-scène before her, her head bowed forward.
ANA SOMNIA is not scheduled to compete tonight, and as such is clad in civilian attire. She dons a black pair of wet-look Reebok Russia leggings, a silver pair of combat boots, a black Reebok Russia sports bra, and a sleeveless, blood red W.C.A. Fight Club sweatshirt. She, too, wears a black Forge beanie on her head. Her EHWF GLOBAL CHAMPIONSHIP is wrapped around her sculpted waist while her INFINITE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP rests slung over her shoulder..
She lifts her head and looks out upon the capacity crowd, the arterial red lipstick on her lips appearing even more sinister when her lips twist into a malicious sneer. Her upper lip twitches in disdain, wrath bubbling up beneath the surface. She draws breath before shifting her weight from one hip to the other, resting her free hand around the back of the top of the faceplate of her title. She allows her malevolent gaze to glide from one side of the venue to the other before returning her focus to center, settling her vision on the ring on the far end of the entrance ramp.
CASEY KINCAID
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome—for the first time on Sunday Night Adrenaline—the inaugural INFINITE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD... The DEVIL HERSELF... The UNDISPUTED... AAANNNAAA... ‘NECESSARY EVIL’... SSSOOOMMMNNNIIIAAA!”
The Undisputed then stomps down the ring to ringside, confidence pouring out of every imperious movement she makes. Once she reaches the foot of the entrance ramp, Somnia struts to the bottom of the steel stairs leading up to the ring apron. She hastens up the stairs with purpose and ventures out about halfway across the apron nearest the ramp. Sneering as she looks out on the crowd one more time, Somnia scrapes the bottoms of her boots against the apron.
Forgoing her typical theatricality in her entrance, she simply looks out upon the audience, a contemplative scowl on her visage. Then the Huntress suddenly unfastens the strap around her waist and hastens toward the corner, hopping up and swinging her leg over the top rope and into the ring to sit upon the top turnbuckle as if it were the top of the cage at the end of an MMA fight. She roars imperiously and rolls her shoulders, hoisting both of her titles high overhead to a resounding chorus of disapproving jeers.
Subsequently, Slavic Steel slides back down to her feet inside of the squared circle and wraps her world title around her waist again. After she ventures to the corner nearest the timekeeper’s area, she leans through the ropes and demands a microphone from a ringside attendant, who sheepishly obliges. Ana then pulls back into the ring and paces for a moment, eventually settling into a stationary pose in the center of the ring, staring daggers into the hard camera. She drapes her newest title over her shoulder and adjusts it until it’s resting comfortably before lifting the microphone to her blood-red lips to address the IPW fanbase.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“I am woman of my word. When I said I would win Infinite Power Tournament, put Irina Sokolov to sleep, and become first Infinite Pro Heavyweight Champion of World, I meant this. What is more important? I DID this. And now? Now I stand before you all truly Undisputed. I have survived every single fighter offered into this ring—this altar in worship of Devil Herself—as sacrifice for Greater Good, and I have done this unscathed. I have done this… unimpressed.”
Somnia shakes her head, lowering the microphone to her side as the crowd boos her. Once their vocal dissent dissipates, the War Whisperer adjusts the title on her shoulder and reunites the microphone with the venomous vitriol spewing from her blood-red lips.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“This is why I have not come to this ring—my ring—to celebrate my triumph. I will not rest upon laurels when my work has only just begun. You see, while I am indeed woman of my word, I prefer to allow action to speak for me. This way, my reputation is not just words. This way… my reputation is fact, etched in history books hard as iron. This way? Perhaps this company will listen more carefully when I tell them I want best sport has to offer. Perhaps this company will listen more carefully when I tell them foundation of future of title, company, and sport will be built upon bones of those delusional enough to believe they are best in world... delusional enough to believe they are Ana Somnia.”
Ana lowers the microphone again, though it manages to pick up her sinister snicker nonetheless. She bows her head slightly forward, peering ominously up through a furrowed brow with the corner of her upper lip twitching until it curls her arrogant sneer into a nefarious snarl. Cocking her head sharply to both sides, she cracks either side of her neck before lifting the microphone back up and continuing to deliver her diabolical diatribe.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“Indeed, I am not here to celebrate triumph. I am here to speak of my first challenger, my first… example. Defeating Irina Sokolov was like me: inevitable. I knew this, she knew this, and all of you knew this. Because my triumph was inevitable, my undivided focus was unnecessary. I instead watched two fighters go to war for right to be this First Example: Tarah Nova, a woman revered throughout sport, and MYŌJIN, whose appreciation for violence earned my respect long ago. Their battle set my teeth on edge, each drop of blood spilled inviting my insatiable hunger. But Tarah Nova did not prove her reputation to be fact, to be etched into history books hard as iron. She proved her reputation to be words. And what is more important? She proved she is unfit to contend for my Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship.”
Once more, the Pound-for-Pound Most Potent Professional Fighter on the Planet adjusts the championship slung over her shoulder to emphasize her sentiment. An imperious smirk spreads across her visage as she draws a deep, slow breath through her nose. Pressing her tongue against the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, Ana then inches toward the ropes nearest the hard camera. Her eyes flick to the aforementioned primary production camera and her words take on greater foreboding as a result.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“But I am not here to speak of Tarah Nova, either… I am here to speak to my First Example. I am here to speak to them of violence. You see, MYŌJIN... I know of your respect for this, your admiration for this... We have spoken of this matter in past. But like reputation of woman you defeated to earn fight with me, this is only words. Your actions in ring against Tarah Nova only tell part of story, нет? Because for all our shared words in worship of violence, only one fight will solidify your reputation. And this one and only fight? This fight is against me.”
Somnia now turns from our hard camera to the adjacent set of ropes to her right, the set of ropes nearest the entrance ramp heading to the tunnel. Shifting the title belt on her shoulder, Ana then brings the microphone back up and sighs almost contentedly before continuing to growl her Russian-riddled rhetoric more directly toward her first challenger.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“You will not defeat me, MYŌJIN. This is no less inevitable than my triumphs at First Contact were. But I suspect you are smarter than those who fell before you and you know this. I suspect you understand defeating me is not possible for you. I suspect… you are looking to earn respect and solidify reputation by simply surviving fight with Ana Somnia. I would not take kindly to discovering my suspicions are misplaced... сука.”
MYŌJIN
“Are you done yet?”
Soon enough the sound of the Shining Star's voice echoes throughout the arena with the sound of cheers in response. MYŌJIN begins walking out from gorilla position, down the entrance ramp with a microphone in hand. An amused grin is on their face as they climb up onto the apron, staring toward the champion with an eyebrow raised.
MYŌJIN
“I mean, seriously, I think I've just heard enough. My God, I know it must be boring for this audience to hear the same old egotistical rants every show. I didn't want to ruin your, uh… little celebration here, but since you want my attention so bad- Here I am.”
MYŌJIN
“Congratulations, champ. On the title win and everything, good for you! I bet you're feeling pretty proud of yourself and super confident, perfectly understandable. Most of what you said about me is right, I love this sport. I love wrestling more than anything… What you're wrong about is thinking that I'm not here to beat you. I mean, do you hear yourself?”
Climbing through the second rope, MYŌJIN steps into the ring. Their grin widens as they seem to stifle laughter.
MYŌJIN
“The idea that I'm not going to try and take that championship off your shoulders makes me think you're not as smart as I assumed. I'm not interested in surviving you, I'm going to conquer you. Your suspicions? They couldn't be more wrong.”
Twirling the microphone in their hand, they tilt their head. Suddenly becoming much more serious as they stare toward the Champion.
MYŌJIN
“And quite frankly, I couldn't care any less about reputation. I want your title- and I'll have your title… So, do me a favor. Take this seriously, take this match seriously- because if you think you already have won, then… You'll have a VERY short-lived reign. As for now? Enjoy your celebration, I wouldn't want to bring the mood down.”
Ana studies the demeanor of MYŌJIN as their movements cease and they stand opposite her in the ring. Somnia smirks, shaking her head with a small chuckle as MYŌJIN’s words conclude. From here, the War Whisperer adjusts the title on her shoulder and advances toward MYŌJIN until they are nearly toe-to-toe.
ANA SOMNIA ©
“This is no celebration. This is warning. This is warning to you and all those who will come after you… all those who will fall after you. Because when you step into ring with Devil Herself? When you step into MY ring?”
“NO ONE SURVIVES!”
With this, Somnia drops her microphone to the side and hoists her Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship high overhead. “Vicious” hits the P.A. system and the crowd jeers at her, though she ignores their vocal response entirely. MYŌJIN’s eyes narrow at Ana, a nod coming from their head as they square themselves to the champion, unintimidated. It is on this image of the two standing nearly nose-to-nose inside the squared circle that we fade to our first advertisement break of the evening.
MATCH ONE
BLAZE FREYA vs LATOYA HIXX
The match was under way between the two relative newcomers to IPW, with Latoya Hixx circling around to the side as Blaze Freya kept a wary eye on her. The pair finally come together locking up. Blaze got the upper hand, pushing Hixx towards the corner before shoving her against the turnbuckle. The ref called for the break, and Blaze drew back before darting in with an elbow!
Hixx shook her head at the blow, and Blaze went for the whip! But Hixx reversed it, and Freya hit the opposite corner hard! Hixx ran across the ring leveling Blaze with a clothesline as she came from the corner, and then she went for a quick pin!
1...
Blaze kicked out!
Hixx wasted no time in planting a knee in Blaze's back, grabbing her arms to spread them as she yanked her backwards to apply pressure. Blaze shook her head, trying to get back to her feet or pull away as Hixx tightened the hold.
Blaze managed to get a foot under the ropes, and the ref waved Hixx off as Blaze rolled to the outside. The ref starts a count, and Hixx fumes before she runs back across the ring before diving out of the ring.
Suicide dive!
The pair go down in a heap, and Hixx is up first to drag Blaze to her feet. She starts to fire back, throwing punch after punch before grabbing Hixx by the hair. She drags her forward, slamming her head off the edge of the apron a few times. She rolls inside to break the count, then slides back out to continue battering Latoya Hixx.
Hixx is thrown to the inside, and Blaze climbs the ropes from the outside before going for the Double Stomp!
Cover!
1...
2....
Hixx kicks out! Blaze is furious, and she argues with the ref before turning to grab for Hixx!
Hixx grabs her arm, and rolls through going for the pin!
1...
2...
KICKOUT!
Blaze is fuming as she comes back to her feet, glaring at the laughing Hixx. And then Hixx charges at her, Running High Knee! Blaze is knocked off her feet, and Hixx leaps onto the turnbuckle going for the Frog Splash!
But Blaze gets her knees up! Hixx crashes to the mat, rolling around as she grabs at her ribs before Blaze smirks at her. Mocking her with a few shouts, and then she slaps at the back of her head before tearing her to her feet by the hair. Freya slaps her hard across the face, and then lifts her into the air for the BLAZEBUSTER (suplex transitioned into dead lift brainbuster)!
But Hixx twists free, landing on her feet before she grabs Blaze to bury both knees in her back!
'Double knee backbreaker '!
Blaze grabs at her back, rolling around the ring in pain as she kicks her foot against the mat. And Hixx drives a kick into her spine, rolling her over before she locks on the CROSSFACE! Blaze screams defiance, crawling towards the ropes as she tries to get a foot on the bottom rope!
Hixx gets a foot up, pushing hard on the ropes to push them away. And Blaze tries to twist away, but Hixx rolls through to keep the hold on as they hit the center of the ring! Blaze grabs at the mat, clawing for the ropes but Hixx tightens the hold as she yanks her hand back.
Freya's hand hovers over the mat, and she shakes her head at the ref before finally tapping out!
Hixx wins, and the ref holds her hand high as Blaze rolls from the ring!
The house lights dim and darken, the crowd “ooh” and “ahh” in response as they await with anticipation. The angelic wispy vocals of a choir punch through the house speakers. A video clicks on the screen. We open on the shot of an empty locker, the room is dark but is lit by orange neon lights. A man - no, not “a” man, THE man falls into frame. The crowd is heard coming to a rise as Mehrunes Smith drops into frame taking a seat on the bench. He removes his glasses and flashes the camera smile as he pauses for the response from the crowd indicating a live feed.
MEHRUNES SMITH
“My name is Mehrunes Smith.”
He cocks his head with an accomplished smirk.
“I am one half of the first-ever NLW Tag Team Champions, a former NLW Southern States Champion and one of the HOTTEST free agents on the entire Network. When I heard that Jason Long, THE Jason Long, was starting up his own promotion, I just had to pinch myself. “Surely not” I thought, “Must be some kind of April Fools joke” I assumed. But it seems as though I was wrong. I bet that I’m not the only one who was wrong either. But, if anyone could give the big dogs of the Network a run for their proverbial money? Jason Long’s gotta be the man to do it. Alls ya gotta do is look at First Contact. I mean, god DAMN. Who else could produce that kind of show?”
Smith leans back with a happy sigh.
“When I told Jason I was interested, I could see the dollar signs just spinnin’ round in his pupils. He is a man that knows value when he sees it. Which brings me to why I am here. Value. See it may not look it but Mehrunes Smith is a gambling man. I know my worth, I know my value, I know what I bring to the table and I ain’t the only one who knows. Jason Long knows. So why would I stay in a place where I feel myself plateaued? Complacent? This world has too many of the “just happy to be here” types. That just ain’t in my nature. So, I’ve got my chips and I’m layin’ them all out on the table. My legacy isn’t gonna be in the midcard of NLW. My legacy is gonna be lit up by the brightest lights possible.”
Smith’s smile has faded and he looks to the camera intently.
“My legacy will be bigger than wrestling.”
He cracks a half smile for a solitary second before he leans back.
“I got a little story to tell, a personal one, if I can be afforded the time.”
Smith pauses for the smattering of cheers and applause.
“I have a … well … it’s a “not secret”. Yeah. A “not secret”. It’s not something I’ve kept a secret, it's just something that has never come up. My father was a professional wrestler. My grandfather was a professional wrestler. My grandmother was involved in some aspect of the business. The reason why it never came up was because they all faded away into obscurity.
My granddaddy travelled all around the country back in the real old days, wrestling at circuses and fairs and the like. He died alone half crippled unable to remember his name. My old man?”
Smith pauses, looking to the floor. There is a slight struggle etched on his face. His eyes dart back to the camera.
“The late 80’s, early 90’s, it was a real rough period. I’m sure everyone knows the horror stories. The boy’s in the back with all sorts of less than legal substances, snortin’, shootin’ or smokin’ something, anything. My old man died of a heart attack at 50. The business was not kind to those in my family who were in it. I always told them that I never wanted to be a professional wrestler. But, as we know, when you’re born the son of a professional wrestler, who is also the son of a professional wrestler?”
“You’re cursed.”
Smith half smiles again. The seriousness on his face returns after a quick shake of his head.
“I’ve never told anyone this, it’ll be a great surprise to many who know me I’m sure, but I’ve never told anyone for the simple fact of how they turned out. They didn’t have legendary careers, they didn’t live lavish lives. This business used them, ate them up, spit them out, and left them to die. When I started my training, I took to it like a duck to water. I realised I knew a great deal about this business. I knew things that I didn’t know I knew, if that makes any sense. I chalk it up to osmosis. I absorbed a lot of knowledge about how this business works from being around the dark side of it for so long. It afforded me a great advantage over my many contemporaries on the come up.”
Smith shrugs and leans back. He waits a beat.
“In many ways, I’ve already surpassed the legacy of my father and my grandfather. The day I started goin’ down this path I made a promise to myself that not only would I surpass them, that I wasn’t gonna let myself fail and fade into obscurity. I vowed that no matter what it takes or how hard it gets, I’ll keep fighting to make it. Success is a multi-faceted thing. What success actually is varies from person to person. Some want money, nice car, nice house. Others want the perfect family complete with cliched white picket fence. I want to be the greatest. I want to be a World Champion. I want to be unforgettable…”
Smith brings himself to his feet.
“... I want to be…”
Smith returns his glasses to his face.
“INFINITE!”
Smith poses as the shot changes to a grass field. The camera moves through the blades of glass, stopping on a mirror propped up against a tree stump.
The shot fades to black.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“It’s been a stellar night thus far, Dom. Ana Somnia put the entire locker room on notice ensuring they all know that know one survives but MYŌJIN made it a point to let our champion know that there would be no fear there.”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Yeah, you’re definitely right there. I can’t wait to see that showdown. Then, earlier tonight we saw LaToya Hixx, the self proclaimed Boss, pick up a very nice submission win.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“She’s not my boss! Anyways, our next match, the first of two three-way matches here tonight, should be really good!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Absolutely! It looks like Tommy Hate is already in the ring, pacing…looking for a fight! Let’s take it down to Casey, standing in the center of the ring.”
CASEY KINCAID
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the following triple threat match is scheduled for one fall!”
ONE FALL!!!
CASEY KINCAID
“Standing… no, Pacing back and forth in the ring is The Lord of the Red… TOMMY HATE!!!”
Hate looks laser focused as he awaits his opponents.
CASEY KINCAID
“Making their way to the ring next, from Poncha, Oklahoma, “BIG PAPA” LACHAPPA!!!.”
LaChappa struts onto the stage gut first, slamming his palms into his stomach before raising his sausage-finger balled fists into the air. He struts down the ramp, clearly the fan favorite as he looks over the crowd who have hands outstretched for him. He climbs between the ropes, slapping his gut before raising his fists into the air, not ashamed to give the girls a show, and jiggles his hips for them.
Machine Gun shots ring out through the arena for a couple of minutes before "Ricky" - Denzel Curry starts to blare out from the speakers. That's when the man of many nicknames, "The Divine One", "The Machine Gunn", "The Supreme Being" Ricky Gunn swaggers out pretty much like the swag of Conor McGregor. The crowd reacts with a chorus of boos as Ricky just looks out at them like someone looking out at people beneath them.
"I'ma act, one, two, stop the track, bring it back, what it do
See Ricky said "Never let nobody get the one up on you"
If they run up on you, hit 'em with a one, two
Or a bitch slap"
As bitch slap is sung, Ricky Gunn imitates bitch slapping the crowd. At the end of the lyrics, Ricky imitates firing a Machine Gun in the air like Tony Montana did in that one scene in Scarface. Ricky then soaks in the boos from the haters who are only feeding his ego more as he swagger walks down to the ring. Stopping on his way to make a gun signal towards the ring and pretending to pull the trigger before laughing and heading down to the ring.
CASEY KINCAID
“And their opponent, from Orlando, Florida… he is the Machine Gun… RICKY GUNN!!!.”
Once at the ring, Ricky jumps up onto the apron, before jumping over the top rope and into the ring. Now in the ring, Ricky grabs a microphone and starts to sing along to the lyrics before dropping the microphone out of the ring like a pipe bomb with a smirk that gives off nothing but egotism. His opponents stare him down as they begin to walk towards him slowly. Gunn stretches against the ropes.
MATCH TWO
BIG PAPA LACHAPPA vs RICKY GUNN vs TOMMY HATE
DING! DING!
At the sound of the bell, RICKY GUNN drops down and rolls out to the outside of the ring. BIG PAPA LACHAPPA and TOMMY HATE turn to look at Gunn and then back to each other. They shrug before Tommy Hates throws a RIGHT HAND to Lachappa’s jaw. He shakes it off. Another RIGHT HAND. Then a rapid fire RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT. Lachappa teeters a bit from the frenzy of punches. Tommy Hate, with malice in his eyes, runs the ropes, rebounds and throws a vicious ELBOW SHOT to Lachappa. Lachappa stumbles back three steps but stays up right, trying to shake off the elbow. Tommy Hate runs past Lachappa and hits the ropes, then runs back past him and rebounds on the opposite ropes, Tommy Hate leaps going for a FLYING ELBOW- NO! Lachappa catches him in a BEARHUG!
Tommy Hate fights and flails his arms from side to side, trying to get the big man to loosen the hold. Ricky Gunn, seeing the dire situation that Tommy Hate has gotten in, slides in the ring and CHOP BLOCKS Lachappa, who falls to a knee and releases Tommy Hate. Gunn springs back to his feet and looks at Tommy and they both look down at LaChappa. They run and bounce off the ropes and in unison hit a RUNNING KNEE on LaChappa’s head. The big man goes down hard and Ricky Gunn immediately pins him.
ONE-BROKEN UP!
Tommy Hate grabs Gunn’s leg almost as soon as the pinfall is made and drags him off of LaChappa. Ricky Gunn stands and gets in Tommy’s face and SHOVES him. Tommy walks back and goes head to head with Ricky Gunn as they jaw back and forth with each other. Ricky Gunn SHOVES Tommy Hate again who lets the momentum push him back into the ropes and he comes back and goes for a clothesline that Ricky Gunn ducks. The two of them hit opposite sides of the rings before meeting back in the middle with a DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE! All three men are down on the mat.
Big Papa Lachappa is first to his feet, or to his knees, rather. The referee checks in on him. Ricky Gunn and Tommy Hate pull themselves up in opposite corners, still dazed. Lachappa is able to get to his feet and sees Tommy Hate in the corner. He SLAPS HIS BELLY THREE TIMES and takes off running.
GIGA IMPACT
His magnificent midsection into Tommy Hate. Lachappa turns his attention to Gunn, slumped in the corner. He begins patting his stomach again and again he storms his stomach straight into the second corner…
GIGA IMPACT
…SQUASHING Gunn. Lachappa again looks at Tommy who is trying to stand back up. He begins patting with both hands and stomping on the ground. He charges but TOMMY HATE MOVES and LACHAPPA NAILS THE EMPTY CORNER. The ring shifts a bit on the impact, and Lachappa backs out of the corner, hurting. Tommy GRABS A HALF NELSON
SURRENDERPL- NOOO! The weight is too much and Tommy’s legs buckle as Lachappa falls on top of him. His SHOULDERS ARE DOWN!
ONE!
TW- KICKOUT!!!
Lachappa tries to get up, making it to all fours. Ricky, shaking the cobwebs out after the corner move sees both men on the ground. He runs in and grabs Lachappa’s neck and hits a SPINNING NECKBREAKER. He makes the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
TH-KICKOUT!!!
Lachappa powers Gunn off of him but Gunn lands on his feet just as Tommy Hate is getting up. Gunn jumps, and wraps his legs around the neck of Hate for a HEADSCISSORS TAKEDOWN and parlays it into an ARMBAR in the center of the ring. Tommy grabs and reaches, trying to find a way to get out of the hold. Lachappa is back up now and jogs over and JUMPS! Gunn catches him out of the corner of his guy and breaks the hold and BAILS out of the way. LACHAPPA SPLASHES TOMMY HATE! Gunn runs in with a BASEMENT DROPKICK to Lachappa and goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Gunn immediately covers Tommy Hate.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
He slaps the mat in frustration and gets up and tries to pick Lachappa up. He has difficulty, so instead he moves over to Tommy Hate. He begins to pick him up and this time it is Tommy Hate who locks in a GUILLOTINE CHOKE! Hate has locked it in well and Gunn is fading fast. Just before the ref can check on Gunn, Lachappa hits a BIG BOOT to Ricky Gunn who was almost out, breaking the hold. He tries for an ELBOW DROP on Hate, but Tommy is able to move and Lachappa again shakes the ring with the impact. Tommy Hate walks over behind Lachappa and bends down. He grabs the big man by the waist and deadlifts… and strains… AND LIFTS! HE HAS LACHAPPA UP… GERMAN SUPLEX!!!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
Ricky Gunn comes in and hits a STANDING CORKSCREW SHOOTING STAR PRESS on Lachappa. Before he can make the cover, Tommy throws him off and hooks Lachappa’s leg.
ONE!
TWO!
BROKEN UP BY GUNN!!
Both Hate and Gunn are back up and face to face. LEFT JAB! RIGHT CROSS! RIGHT HOOK! LEFT UPPERCUT! Gunn stumbles back but immediately steps in and LOW KICK! SPINNING BACK KI- No, Hate ducks under it, and grabs him from behind locking in a FULL NELSON SLEEPER! Gunn immediately steps towards the turnbuckle and JUMPS to the middle, using it to leverage himself back and into a pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Both men are quickly back to their feet and staring each other down!
THIS IS AWESOME!
THIS IS AWESOME!
THIS IS AWES-OHHHHH!
DOUBLE
LACHAPPA USED SPLASHED!
(Jumping Crossbody)
Big Papa Lachappa takes out both men, and the crossbody’s impact sends Tommy to the outside. Lachappa gets to his feet and picks Ricky Gunn up. And begins to maul him.
ALL YOU CAN BEAT BUFFET
(Vicious forearm clubs to the sides of an opponent's head)
LaChappa continues to rock Gunn. He backs him into the corner. Gunn is dazed. LaChappa lifts him up on the turnbuckles and climbs up onto the second buckle, the ring post groaning under the weight. The crowd begins to get anxious as Big Papa LaChappa looks around. In an amazing feat of athleticism, LaChappa jumps.
MEAT SPI-NO!! TOP ROPE POWERBOMB!!!
The ring shakes with force. LaChappa had tried to go for his top rope frankensteiner but instead Ricky Gunn was able to hook his legs on the buckle and leverage it enough to drop LaChappa with the powerbomb. Gunn stands up on the top turnbuckle, careful to balance himself. He taunts the crowd before leaping, and flipping…
450 SPLASH!
HE HOOKS LACHAPPA’S LEG!
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
NO!!!!!! TOMMY HATE JUMPS IN FOR THE SAVE JUST BEFORE THE REFS THREE COUNT!
Gunn gets to his feet, frustrated and angrily turns his sights on Hate. He WHIPS Hate towards the ropes, but Tommy Hate is able to REVERSE it and WHIP Gunn into the ropes. Before Gunn rebounds, Hate charges in and jumps.
RPK (Rocket-Propelled Kick)
(Bicycle Kick over the top ropes)
The crowd gasps as Gunn takes a nasty spill outside. LaChappa is back to his feet and GRABS at Hate from behind but Hate is able to spin out of it. LaChappa goes for a CLOTHESLINE but Hate ducks under it. As LaChappa turns back towards Hate, he is met with a KICK TO THE GUT…
DEATH'S HEAD
( Paradigm Shift.)
Tommy Hate makes the cover!
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
DING! DING! DING!
CASEY KINCAID
“Here is your winner, by pinfall…. TOMMY HATE!!!!!!!!!.”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“He started the match laser focused and nothing changed! Tommy Hate with one heck of a debut here in IPW!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“You can say that again. Ricky Gunn has nothing to hang his head about either, what an amazing performance that came up just a bit short. That powerbomb… phew, it was something else!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Everyone felt LaChappa’s presence tonight, no matter which end of the punishment he was on. What a match! Still to come, our second triple threat match of the night… AND DON’T GO ANYWHERE! We have a National Openweight number one contenders match with Alastar Touchdown taking on Spike Kane!!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“After what unfolded at First Contact, you will definitely not want to miss that one. Let’s take a break to pay our sponsors, but stay tuned!”
The feed returns from ringside to find ourselves with the owner of Infinite Pro Wrestling sitting within his office, speaking with someone on his mobile phone, but is soon interrupted with the knocking of someone at the door.
JASON LONG
“Here, mate. I’ll see you in a bit, I’ve got someone here… Yeah, come on in—”
The door soon swings open to find all four members of The Dead End Express staring down the owner and large smiles along the faces of both Hank Jr and Jack Haggard. They’re both aware that they’ve been rewarded with something and they’ve come to collect their prize.
JASON LONG
“—well, you've got some cheek to show your faces around here and completely outnumber me like this thinking that I’ve got nobody to back me up, huh.”
JACK HAGGARD
“Yer underestimatin’ us if you think we wanna pounce on you like we just pounced on all the teams ya thrown our way, boss. Now, if I wanted to hurt ya? I’d have done it already with the way ya just booked two bum losers into the main event with a title match—and considerin’ that we’re supposed to be ‘rewarded’ and all that shit? Ya better have somethin’ fuckin’ good for us.”
Jason leaned forward and smiled at the comments made by Jack.
JASON LONG
“You’re right, but here’s the thing, Jack. They’ve won their matches in the past before the Tag Team Clusterfuck Gauntlet… whereas you, well, you didn’t win but you didn’t lose. That was a simple reward for them two, and you? Well, you won all of your matches… three in one night, a surprise that nobody expected since you’ve beaten the freshest faces around the network, the most extreme tag team in the history of the network, and then Donzig-gun.”
HANK HAGGARD SR.
“And that means what for them, boy? Come on, start spittin’ what we wantin’ to hear.”
JASON LONG
“Okay, relax… Hear me out, Jack.”
JACK HAGGARD
“I’m listenin’.”
He pauses for a moment as he stands up from his seat.
JASON LONG
“I rewarded them with a championship match for the National Openweight Championship, but… for one of you? I am giving you a chance to fight for the Infinite Pro Heavyweight Championship — the one slight problem is that… I can’t reward the both of you with that title shot, so I have to settle with one person challenging for the championship, and as much as you impressed me the most in that match, Jack?”
Another pause.
JASON LONG
“The match goes to the man who got the most pinfalls in that match, which is Hank Haggard Jr.”
Jason gestured toward Hank Haggard Jr as he looked to have been surprised with the announcement of himself taking the chance at Infinite Pro Wrestling’s top prize.
HANK HAGGARD JR.
“Yeah… yeah, now, ya see that ol girl ya got there as ya champ? She’s not gonna be protected any fuckin’ longer, I tell ya. I want her in two weeks, ya hear that? Two weeks, I want that title match—”
Jason places his hand up to stop Hank from speaking any further.
JASON LONG
“Hank, that won’t be happening because the next challenger is already lined up as MYOJIN and they’ll be clashing one another at Night of Champions in a few weeks, but I’ve already got you lined up as the challenger to whoever wins that match at Night of Champions, and you’ll be facing them at the next pay-per-view, Royal Crown!”
HANK HAGGARD JR.
“Ya gonna make me WAIT for my prize???”
JASON LONG
“You’ll have to be patient, Hank. MYOJIN captured his shot before you were even ready to compete in your match, and as for you, Jack? I have something lined up for you in the future that you’re gonna love. And it’ll be something that you might share with everyone in The Dead End Express. But, for now, that’s all I have for you. I do hope that this is exactly what you’ve been looking forward to.”
Jack and Hank look at one another before nodding their heads to one another, and then, the feed slowly fades away into a commercial break.
The feed slowly fades back in from it’s commercial break, bringing us to the visual of El Rey – all on his own this time around – and his head kept facing down, slowly nodding to himself before bringing his head up to look right into the lens of the camera recording him as he began to speak.
EL REY
“I’m tired…”
A pause, followed with a beat.
EL REY
“...of being treated unfairly when others get such a loveable treatment for doing the bare fucking minimum. I’m tired of it, and so are others – if you account for Zoran seeing this as an unfair booking – and all I want and need right now is to be treated fairly just like how everyone else gets treated. You’d have to understand it from my own point of view to realise what I’m talking about. I am a former, greatest, and youngest, X*Crown Champion that this network has ever seen and I’d still be reigning if it wasn’t for The Rumble. Since then, I came here, to Infinite Pro Wrestling, to prove myself back in the lineup of others and to fight through everyone and anyone that is to be put in front of me.”
Rey smirked, chuckling to himself.
EL REY
“Look at what I did to Aren Mstislav… I gave him the match of his career that made him stand out in front of everyone and I proved myself as the monarchy that holds the reins here in Infinite Pro Wrestling. I made him become a star in just one match, that’s how fucking good I am and nobody here believes me, not even the owner of the damn company. So, here’s my proclamation for everyone and a little message to our ‘wonderful’ National Openweight Champion. That championship has one hell of a champion right now, and it’s got some nifty challengers lined up for it, which is why I want in on that prize. I don’t care who walks out tonight as a contender, I don’t care who walks out of London Heatwave with the title, all I care about is getting my shot at the prize.”
A pause.
EL REY
“I care about getting the fucking respect that I deserve… and if that means becoming champion gets me what I’m deserved ever since I’ve walked through the doors? Then, it’s simple because we all know just how good of a champion I can be. It’s just about time that I do it again.”
And with those words spoken, we soon faded to black.
The advertisement for Tap Out 5: Collins vs Diamond zooms out and we see Cross Recobba watching a monitor backstage, smiling at his handiwork. His expression changes as Jack Diamond walks into the shot, face to face with Cross. The two stare each other down intently as the crowd in the arena roar to life, split between Diamond Club chants and boos. Just as Cross is about to say something, fire in his eyes, Jack smiles. Jack holds up a hand.
JACK DIAMOND
“Easy now… easy. Look, I didn’t come here to jump you again and I didn’t come here expecting to have to fight you.”
Cross hasn’t taken his eyes off Jack’s but as Jack nods down to his hand, Cross follows his gaze. Jack lifts up a halliburton briefcase. Jack steps to the side and lays the briefcase on a nearby bar, unclasping the latches. As he opens it, light dances over both his and Cross’ face. Jack pulls out the HCW Diamond Championship Belt. He holds it out to Cross who looks at the belt, then raises an eyebrow to Jack.
CROSS RECOBA
“You came all this way to bring my title to me?”
JACK DIAMOND
“We may have had our disputes in the past. Hell, we may have had our disputes as of late...”
CROSS RECOBA
“If you want to call blindsiding me, stealing my belongings and holding my company hostage a “dispute” then sure, we’ve had our disputes.”
JACK DIAMOND
“Ah, but see… I’m nothing if not resourceful, and a man of my word. I told you, no strings attached, you name me your Overheated rep then I hand back over your title. No reason to wait any longer, besides I have other business to attend to.”
CROSS RECOBA
“What business?”
JACK DIAMOND
“Oh you’ll like this. Stay tuned… Boss…ha ha, Oh… and congrats on the new championship!”
With that, Jack walks off smiling, leaving Cross to stand there incredulously. We cut back to ringside where Chloe Hartwell and Domnic Morrissey sit also looking like they are in shock of Jack’s good deed in returning the HCW Championship to Cross.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Well, what do you know? Jack Diamond actually just handed the championship back over to Cross Recoba. I guess there IS honour among thieves.”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Yeah, as shocking as that was, what do you think he meant by “other business”?”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“There is no telling, but one thing I’ve learned thus far is that when Jack has “business” to attend, he leads no stone unturned on his path to success. One thing I DO know though, is it’s time for our main eve-”
Chloe Harwell is interrupted as the synthwave beats to ‘Sanjuro’ begin to play and the crowd inside of the OVO Arena become unglued as the music is played overhead signalling the arrival of the owner of IPW, Jason Long! The curtain pulls back just as the chorus hits and Jason walks through with his arms extended out to a thunderous ovation! The King stands right at the edge of the stage with his arms out-stretched and with fire shooting up from behind at both sides of him, putting on an entrance only he could make.
CASEY KINCAID
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… PLEASE WELCOME THE OWNER OF INFINITE PRO WRESTLING… JAAASSOOONNNNN LOOOOOOOONNNNNGGGGGGGG!!!!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Listen to this crowd, Chloe!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Ireland may be home but these fans in London are showing their absolute appreciation for our visionary leader, Mr. Long! I had on my sheet though that it was time for our main event, but obviously the boss had other plans.”
Jason made his way down the steps and began to walk around the ringside area, hitting along the hands of every fan that reached out before leaping onto the ring apron and entering the ring, looking around the entirety of the arena and seeing all of the fans still on their feet for the owner. Once the music began to die down a little, the chants were getting louder and louder.
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
“I–P–DUB!”
The owner is soon handed a microphone by Casey Kincaid as he stands back into the middle of the ring and continues to look around the room, before bowing his head at each side of the ring, giving his respects to everyone that chants for the company.
JASON LONG
“You guys are too kind! Too kind! What an amazing night we’ve had! I am so proud of what we’ve been able to accomplish in such a short time. Infinite Pro Wrestling is quickly becoming one of the most talked about, most must-see companies on the Network… and much of that has to do with the passion of all our fans. So thank you!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“We really do have the best fans in the business, Chloe!”
JASON LONG
“There are so many great things happening in IPW, one of them being this wonderful London tour that we kicked off tonight. Our next show in this building, two weeks from now, will be “London Heatwave” All this while we continue to paint a clearer picture on who will be facing off at Royal Crown!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“That next pay-per-view is really shaping up to be something special, Dom..”
The crowd pops at the mention of the first pay-per-view that IPW will hold in London, England. Jason gets a serious look on his face and holds up a hand. The crowd settles.
JASON LONG
“I’m humbled at how successful we’ve been so far. With the amount of success and growth we’ve seen though, it’s become noticeably clear to me that I can’t run overall operations AND day to day business by myself. I need someone that I can trust to come in to help oversee day to day tasks. And oh boy, have I found that person…
CHLOE HARTWELL
“But who?”
Jason Long motions towards the curtain as the fans buzz. The lights dim.
JASON LONG
“So without any further ado, let me introduce you to the Commissioner of Infinite Pro Wrestling, two time X*Crown champion…he’s like a big brother to me…fellow Icon!
JACKKKKK...
FUCKKKKKINNNNNN’...
DIAMONNNNNNNND!!!!”
The crowd are stunned in silence before they hear--
I'M GONNA BE ... ICONIC!
CHLOE HARTWELL
“Oh you’ve GOT to be kidding me!”
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“Jack Diamond… is now the commissioner… I… I just, wow.”
Jack comes through the curtain to a loud pop. He looks around, smiles big and continues down the ramp. As Jack Diamond makes it to the ring, he and Jason Long embrace in a bro hug before Long hands Jack the microphone and exits the ring. Jack looks around and listens to the mixed response from the crowd, not being able to remove the smile from his face.
JACK DIAMOND
“LONDON, ENGLAND!!! IPW just got a little more… ICONIC!”
Again there are some boos but it’s mostly raucous cheering inside the OVO arena.
JACK DIAMOND
“Now, I think it’s important that before we get started, I come out here and address my actions as of late to all of you. For those of you who may not know… I, along with Jason, wrestle in another company in America… ran by none other than our Infinite Pro National Openweight Champion, Cross Recoba.”
There is a loud pop for Cross.
JACK DIAMOND
“Yeah, give him a hand, he deserves every bit of it! Anyways, many of you were upset that I attacked Cross after his match at First Contact but to be honest with you, I knew it was the best way to get his attention. It was never anything personal, just business. Now I will go on to compete for a spot at Night of Champions… where who knows, maybe I’ll even get too square off with a Jamrocker! Anyways, that is not why we are here tonight. We are here for that!”
Jack points to the curtain where a podium has been set up and something is covered with a black sheet. A stagehand removes the sheet to reveal the same halliburton briefcase that Jack had Cross’ HCW Diamond title in.
JACK DIAMOND
“In just a few short weeks, we will be live at the O2 Arena for IPW Royal Crown! And Jason and I have decided that there is nothing in wrestling quite as Royal as… A BRIEFCASE BATTLE ROYAL!!!”
The crowd comes unglued again at the news.
DOMINIC MORRISSEY
“I can get behind that!”
JACK DIAMOND
“This will be a 15 person Battle Royal, and the winner of the match will be awarded that very briefcase. But the gift inside will be the golden ticket! An IPW Championship contract, good for ANY singles championship match, any time, any place! Maybe you will win it and immediately cash in on Cross Recoba to go for his National Openweight Championship. Maybe you cash in on Ana Somnia. Or, maybe you hold it for the most opportune time and seal your destiny in the record books of IPW!”
CHLOE HARTWELL
“This is huge, Dom! The winner of that match, if played smart, can change the landscape of IPW!”
JACK DIAMOND
“So get ready London! We are about to have a very exciting Summer! I can’t wait to, alongside my little brother, Jason Long, lead this company to new heights! And to all of you in the back, be ready. An opportunity like this doesn’t come around every day! Infinite Icon… OUT!”
With that, Jack drops the mic and exits the ring to thunderous applause and cheers. He passes by the podium and stops, grabbing the briefcase and holding it in the air again to loud cheers.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“What an announcement! Jack is commissioner, the Royal Crown has become even more royal…and we STILL have the main event RIGHT NOW!!!”
GOOD TIMES GONE!
AND YOU MISSED EM!
WHAT'S GONE WRONG
IN YOUR SYSTEM?!
Out comes ALASTOR, followed behind by JIMI COOLDOWN, Hawaiian shirt over his gear and lackadaisical expression on his face. He brings a cigarette up to his lips as he makes his way to the ring, blowing smoke in the faces of the front row who boo and jeer incessantly. Throwing garbage in his direction which he takes with a smile.
CASEY KINCAID
Introducing first, accompanied by JIMI COOLDOWN, he is one half of the Jamrockers, The Master of Disaster, ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN!
ALASTOR stands on the apron and flicks his cigarette at the ring announcer, wordlessly telling him to fuck off. ALASTOR enters the ring to another chorus of boos.
WHEN YA GOT SO MUCH TO SAY, IT'S CALLED GRATITUDE
AND THAT'S RIGHT!
Marching towards the hard camera, ALASTOR flips off the screen before pointing down at his crotch with a smirk.
"ANYTHING GOES!"
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!!!"
As a pyro erupts at the top of the rampway SPIKE emerges through it, a snarl on his face.
"Yeah, I come alive, I'll survive, take on anything
So paint a target on my back let 'em come for me
I don't fall, don't quit, don't ever sleep
'Cause, I'm on another level that you'll never reach
IF YOU SEEK FORGIVENESSSSSS
You'll get nothing!
You'll get nothing from MEEE!!!"
He rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring, stopping in the center, sat crossed legged he stares towards the hard camera.
"You will never know, it's the price I pay
Look into my eyes, we are not the same
Yeah, this is where you fall apart
Yeah, this is where you break
'Cause I'm in control and you'll know my name
'Cause I gave my life, gave it everything"
He rises to his feet, and climbs up onto the turnbuckle, shouting out to the audience.
"Yeah, this is where you fall apart
Yeah, this is where you break
To everybody who doubted
Get on your knees and bow down!
Get on your knees and bow down!"
He extends his arms, with a smirk in time with the music. Expecting those around, to bow down, just as the music fades and the lights return to normal.
MATCH FOUR - MAIN EVENT
NATIONAL OPENWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP – NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN vs SPIKE KANE
ALASTOR and SPIKE stand in their respective corners, SPIKE glaring a hole through ALASTOR, while ALASTOR simply smirks back at SPIKE with JIMI COOLDOWN acting as cheerleader for ALASTOR. The bell rings and SPIKE KANE explodes out of the corner, charging towards Alastar, who cleverly grabs the top rope and swings his legs through, sliding to the outside. Tapping his head a few times causing the crowd to groan, and SPIKE to see red. The God of Xtreme rolls outside the ring himself around the ring post from the Jamrockers. He begins to come storming around the ring, but ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN is too fast for him, and he leads SPIKE on a merry chase. Once….twice….three times around the ring! At ringside JIMI simply stands with his back against the barricade and his arms in the air showing the referee he’s not getting involved.
ALASTOR leads SPIKE round one more time, before sliding into the ring and running circles around the referee, with the referee distracted, as SPIKE comes around the corner of the ring, JIMI steps in and catches SPIKE off guard with a YOU’RE A NAGE right onto the steel stairs! COOLDOWN quickly backs off, and begins to laugh trying to convince the referee that SPIKE simply fell over the steel steps chasing his tag team partner. With the momentum certainly on his side, ALASTOR comes out of the ring once more, this time to drag SPIKE to his feet, and roll him into the ring.
The Jamrockers pose together to a huge chorus of boo’s from the crowd, before ALASTOR climbs up onto the ring apron, as SPIKE is slowly but surely getting back to his feet. ALASTOR pulls on the ropes and then leaps over them taking SPIKE down with a SLINGSHOT LEG LARIAT. In an instant ALASTOR grabs KANE in a HEADLOCK and proceeds to give The God of Xtreme a NOOGIE!
SPIKE roars with rage, but ALASTOR sinks the headlock in harder, even as SPIKE tries to get to a knee. The crowd will SPIKE on, which seems to confuse him, as he staggers to a knee, and then leans backwards into the ropes before pushing ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN off of him and sending him to the ropes. SPIKE lunges for a huge LARIAT as ALASTOR comes back on the rebound, but he ducks under SPIKE’s wild lunge, before jumping onto the second rope and rebounding with a huge SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY that takes the former X*Crown Champion down. ALASTOR quickly scrambles for the pinfall…
ONE!
-KICKOUT!
SPIKE KANE kicks out almost immediately after the one count, ALASTOR tries to press his advantage but SPIKE arches up and straight up HEADBUTTS ALASTOR right in the face! The Master of Disaster stumbles backwards, the shot connecting with his nose. Giving SPIKE enough time to pull himself up by the ropes. He cracks his neck, before cracking his knuckles ready to advance on his fallen foe, but ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN begins screaming at the ref, calling him over to check his nose. With the referee’s back turned JIMI COOLDOWN once again takes the advantage, with both SPIKE and the referee distracted he slides into the ring before kicking SPIKE in the gut and hitting him with the…
ACE IN THE HOLE!!!
The crowd are raining down boos as COOLDOWN quickly removes himself from the ring, and ALASTOR miraculously recovers from a supposed broken nose, scrambling on his knees across the ring to pin SPIKE again. The referee is clearly frustrated with the Jamrockers but slides in for the count.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!!?!?
-WAIT-
The referee is about to call for the bell, when they notice SPIKE KANE’s foot on the bottom rope. The crowd erupt as the referee tries to point this out to ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN, who thinks he’s won. JIMI begins to shout at his partner to warn him, as SPIKE pulls himself up in the corner. ALASTOR realises what is happening and turns around, right into a..
BLOODY SUNDAY!!!!
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN hits the deck like a sack of potatoes, and SPIKE kneels down to cover, but before he does he stops and smirks, changing his mind. He drags ALASTOR to his feet and whips him off the ropes once more, ALASTOR comes back as SPIKE ducks down, ALASTOR rolls over his back, before turning on a dime and spinning SPIKE around to go for a kick to the mid-section, but SPIKE catches the leg and pulls ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN into him before arching backwards and delivering a huge BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX that sends ALASTOR across the ring. The momentum sends him back to his feet staggering towards SPIKE, but KANE means business and he kicks ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN in the gut before forcing his head between his legs, and he grabs the waist of ALASTOR.
FREYA’S WINGS!!!!
ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN folds up like an accordion as he takes a version of the Canadian Destroyer, before SPIKE reaches for him and leans over to pin the Crazy White Boy. The crowd are on their feet.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!!
The crowd begin to erupt.
-NO WAIT-
While the referee was counting, JIMI managed to placed ALASTOR’s foot on the bottom rope, and the referee only see’s ALASTOR’s foot on the ropes and calls off the three count, explaining to SPIKE that the fall didn’t count. The God of Xtreme slams the mat in frustration as he glares at JIMI COOLDOWN, who simply smirks and laughs back at him. With a menacing look at JIMI COOLDOWN, SPIKE drags ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN back to his feet, before hooking the arm and lifting him into the air for the SPIKE IMPALER~ but as he does so COOLDOWN jumps onto the ropes, which causes SPIKE to stop, he goes to boot COOLDOWN, but misses as JIMI simply jumps back off the apron. SPIKE loses his grip and drops ALASTOR behind him, the referee tries to lean over the ropes and tell JIMI COOLDOWN to stay out of it. SPIKE, pissed off, turns around to see ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN back on his feet who quickly….
LOW BLOW!!!
ALASTOR goes for a full blown punt kick, right into the KANE family jewels. SPIKE’s face changes instantly as he grabs at his privates and drops to the floor. The referee turns around, having not noticed to see SPIKE on the floor, and ALASTOR begins to climb the turnbuckle. The crowd suddenly erupts and both members of the Jamrockers begins to look around at what is causing the noise.
PRICE appears in the crowd, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in his hands. He is making a bee-line right towards the ring, and on the top rope ALASTOR, is trying to shout a warning to COOLDOWN. JIMI COOLDOWN turns as PRICE hops over the barrier, the crowd go nuts as he starts swinging the bat. Back in the ring ALASTOR turns back to face SPIKE, and leaps through the air.
TOUCHDOOOOOOWN~!!!
BUT WAIT!!!
SPIKE had time to recover, and as ALASTOR leaps off the top rope SPIKE KANE rises to his feet, catching ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN and delivering a brutal…
BLOOD GOD’S WRATH!!!
As SPIKE hits the pop-up powerbomb, but with extra elevation rather than a pop up, ALASTOR slams into the mat, and SPIKE is about to cover, when JIMI COOLDOWN rolls into the ring, running away from PRICE who has a sick grin on his face. As COOLDOWN gets to his feet, he slowly turns around and bumps into SPIKE, who smirks back as COOLDOWN begins to slowly back away. He bumps into the ropes as SPIKE approaches, but as PRICE is about to start climbing up the apon, bat in hand - the referee decides this is too far, and goes to try and prevent PRICE from entering the ring. The two begin a tussle, as SPIKE grabs JIMI COOLDOWN by the throat before…
DOUBLE LOW BLOW!!!
As SPIKE was planning designs of pain for JIMI COOLDOWN, ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN had crawled to his knees, and just as COOLDOWN sends a swift kick to the crown jewels of SPIKE KANE, so too does ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN but from the other side. With a speed that would make you think they were telepathic, COOLDOWN slips through the middle rope onto the apron, as ALASTOR scoops up SPIKE into a piledriver position. JIMI COOLDOWN launches over the ropes, and the Jamrockers hit SPIKE.
TUNA MELTZER DRIVER!
PRICE is absolutely livid on the ringside, as COOLDOWN quickly scrambles out the opposite side of the ring, ALASTOR goes for the cover…
ONE!
….TWO!!
……THREE!!!!
CASEY KINCAID
Here is your winner, and the NEW Openweight Championsip, Number One contender…..ALASTORRRRRR TOUCHDOWWWWWWWN!!
The referee attempts to raise ALASTOR TOUCHDOWN’s arm, but the Jamrockers get out of the ring pretty sharpish, as PRICE finally has free reign to enter the ring, he chases off the Jamrockers before checking on SPIKE. ALASTOR and JIMI slowly back pedal up the ramp, pointing and smirking, making belt gestures as they do so.
The crowd begins to cheer loudly, but not just at the belt motions. At the top of the ramp, Cross Recoba stands with both the HCW Diamond Championship and the INFINITE PRO NATIONAL OPENWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP draped over each shoulder. Jimi and Alastor sense something and turn around a few feet in front of Cross. Cross smiles at Alastor and removes his Openweight championship, holding it high in the air as the crowd cheers.
CHLOE HARTWELL
“There you have it ladies and gents! Alastor Touchdown is on a collision course with Cross Recoba and what a match that will be! That is all the time we have tonight, make sure you tune in in two weeks for LONDON HEATWAVE!!! For Dominic Morrissey, and all the IPW Crew... GOODNIGHT!!!”
The show's feed comes to an end.
© Infinite Pro Wrestling, 2022.
