Anarchy 36 Results

[vastrix]

We finally have a World champion after months of waiting. We also have a lot of aftermath from Masquerade to sort through. We mean a lot of it. What does that mean for the African Tour starting out in Alexandria, Egypt? Stay tuned to find out!

[vastrix]

WELCOME TO ANARCHY 36!




Pyro ignites from the rampway as the show goes live on air, and it is ON in Alexandria, Egypt! The crowd pops huge in a way that Saudi Arabia didn't for WWE, and the camera pans around the arena, showing RSW fans jumping for joy as the Anarchy World Tour finally reaches Africa.



The stage set is full of the usual RSW stereotypical charm - giant palm trees sit either side of the entrance, and next to them, two huge mock pyramids, complete with a tethered set of what appear to be live camels, who are started by the sudden explosion of fireworks. Their handlers strain to keep them under control as nearby fans back away nervously.



Seemingly wanting to cut away from footage that could potentially result in a lawsuit, we go to Joseph Greer and 'Sweet' Tommy Onions at ringside. Onions, inadvisably, is wearing a turban and sunglasses.



JOSEPH GREER: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to another great night of action from Riot Star Wrestling. We're here in Egypt where it's jam packed to the rafters, and this crowd has turned out to see a show. I'm Joseph Greer, and the man sat to my left is 'Sweet' Tommy Onions. As I told you before we came on air, Tommy, you shouldn't be dressed like that. It's cultural appropriation.



TOMMY ONIONS: Greer, I have no idea what that word means. What I can tell you is that this is a cool look, all the fashionable dudes here are wearing it, take a look around the arena!



JOSEPH GREER: It's cultural, Onions, not a fashion statement. You're being racially insensitive. That's Arabic dress.



TOMMY ONIONS: I can be Arabian if I want to. Arabian is a state of mind.



JOSEPH GREER: That might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say.



TOMMY ONIONS: I'm right though.



JOSEPH GREER: (pointedly ignoring Onions and turning face on to the camera) Well, we've got a celebration of sorts up first, folks. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Riot Star Wrestling finally has a new World Heavyweight Champion. And we're about to hear from him. His name? Dylan Erickson!



TOMMY ONIONS: You best buddy, right? Bet you’re real excited to hear from your pal after he hired you on that indy show…



JOSEPH GREER: He offered me a job and I took it. I think he wanted a professional at the table…



Before Onions can reply, the words “THE MASSACRE MAKER” and “DYLAN ERICKSON” appear on the screen, and the crowd roars with a mix of cheers and boos as the new World Champion, the RSW World Heavyweight Title over his shoulder, makes his way to the ring.





JOSEPH GREER: It was only a few weeks ago when Dylan Erickson shocked the world to become the RSW World Champion, and he’s made it clear he wasn’t pleased with his big celebration being cut short by Abdul bin Hussain and his entourage.



TOMMY ONIONS: I wouldn’t pick a fight with those guys. I’d rather go through that Triple Threat again than deal with them! Does this idiot have a death wish?



Erickson is handed a microphone from the lackeys at ringside, and waits for the crowd to cool down.



DYLAN ERICKSON: You know, I was looking forward to soaking in that World Title win last month, I really was. And all of you people might think that I’m here to talk about that and threaten everyone who ruined my moment, and I’m just as pissed about that as anyone. And I promise all of you that I’m going to deal with Abdul Bin Hussain and his flock of morons at some point. But we’ve got more pressing matters because someone’s really pissed me off, someone who I’ve been wanting to get my hands on for the last year. And Shane Mitchell, you know I’m talking about you. Mitchell, I worked for eight years in this business to win this and you swoop in and say it was because of you? That your fucking training and guidance shot me to the top of wrestling? Newsflash, asshole: I never needed Shane Mitchell to do anything. If I needed you, I would have kept you close and used you because I know you’re a miserable, no good son of a bitch and I could never trust you. Have you ever wondered why I never went all in on the Mopolyte shit? We were supposed to give up everything to serve you, I know that better than anyone. Yet I left everything just as it was so I could go back in a heartbeat, if you turned out to be a slimy piece of shit sooner than I’d expected. And you didn’t say a fucking word to me.



JOSEPH GREER: I’m sympathetic to Erickson here, but he’s got to take it down a bit. We can’t have this kind of profanity from our World Champion.



TOMMY ONIONS: Are you kidding? This shit is fantastic! If I still have a job after what I did last week, Erickson can say the fuck word or whatever else as many times as he wants.



DYLAN ERICKSON: I don’t know if you remember Mike Williams. Another indy worker you turned. And when you found out he still had a wife and kids at home, when you found out he hadn’t disowned those kids and told that wife to go fuck herself, you beat the fuck out of him in front of every one of your Mopolytes because he wouldn’t commit to the cause. And then you went prancing around with Tiffany and expected us to look away from your bullshit. And when some people out here cheer you, it makes me sick because they have no idea who the “Reverend”, this paragon of virtue, really is. And I’m more than excited to beat the shit out of you and spill your guts all over this ring so these people can see what you’re really made of.



TOMMY ONIONS: This is crazy. Mitchell beat Erickson last year and now we’ve got the World Champion out here acting like a desperate housewife or something.



DYLAN ERICKSON: Remember last year, when I almost beat you in my third match back? You’re scared, Mitchell. You’ve seen me get better over the last year and you know I’m on another level. Even then, when I lived on your compound, you treated me better than your other servants because you knew I couldn’t be controlled. I lived, ate, and did what I wanted by myself. So when you came out and shed these crocodile tears, saying how proud you are of me, I wondered whether you were stupid or suicidal. And it doesn’t really matter, does it? Because we both know your days in RSW are numbered. I’m coming after you because of people like Mike, and people like Pete. Yeah, that Pete.



The crowd is booing the name of PT Merciless now, but Erickson isn’t fazed.



DYLAN ERICKSON: You know what you did, Mitchell. And you won’t have to sleep with that on your conscience anymore because you’ll be in a coma for the rest of your goddamned life.



Erickson dropped the microphone to the gasps of the crowd and headed backstage, his eyes laser focused in front of him.



JOSEPH GREER: Wow. Well we were expecting a celebratory tone....but that's not the mood that Dylan seems to be feeling tonight. Strong words from our new World Champion, and unexpected words at that! I can’t wait to see what Shane Mitchell has to say about this, but we’ve got to go to commercial break. Stay tuned for more excitement here at Anarchy!



TOMMY ONIONS: We have commercials? We’re on the air? Who the hell airs a wrestling show once a month?



JOSEPH GREER: Our Lords and Masters at the EFZ Network, of course?



TOMMY ONIONS: The EFZ Network? Didn't the boss just sign a deal to ditch those losers as soon as this show goes off the air?



An audible sigh can be heard as the show goes to break.

[vastrix]

When we return from comemrcial, Nitro Kyx and Camdyn Cross are in the ring. They are pacing the ropes like a couple of caged animals.

JOSEPH GREER: They both look like they are ready for this triple threat Tommy.

TOMMY ONIONS: They ain’t no smooth criminals.

JOSEPH GREER: What?

TOMMY ONIONS: My bad.

BOB MOONEY: Hailing from Mogadishu, Somalia; on his way to the ring, being accompanied by other members of the Arab Nation, it is Akeed ibn Umar al-Hayba!

Cameras pan around the sea of anxious people who are cheering loudly. Suddenly, the cheering ceases as the loudspeakers crackle, all attention devoted to these very special proceedings. A large American Flag unfolds from the rafters and hangs majestically over the ring area, each ear expecting to hear the immortal “Star Spangled Banner”.

The big screen started to show all sorts of American iconic sites. Children playing in the streets, baseball matches, troops in the Middle East. Those images dissolve into footage of various terrorist attacks from around the world including 9-11 until, finally, the Iraqi flag with two scimitars underneath filled the screen. This soon gives way to a hooded figure. The scene pulls back to fill the whole screen with this figure having sprawled at his feet American soldiers.

As “Call to Pray” by Seether began to blare loudly through the arena, as it is a Muslim crowd, the fans erupted in happiness all at once.

CROWD: AbH! AbH! AbH!

The fans began cheering nearly to the point of an inverted standing ovation. The noise from the fans is deafening with the ferocity of the cheers. The roving arm of the cameras picks out people in the crowd. As they realize there on the screen they hold the signs higher. Ice Blue strobes cut around the arena as blue smoke billows from underneath the grating on the ramp way. The curtain at the top of the ramp way parts and they emerge.

JOSEPH GREER: I completely forgot where we were. They really, really hate America here.

TOMMY ONIONS: A country that hates America? You're out of your mind, Greer. We're loved everywhere.

Standing there is Akeed ibn Umar al-Hayba in his wrestling garb. To his left stood Abdul bin Hussain
dressed in traditional Arab clothes. Behind them is stood Rafiq and Abdul’s sister Nazirah. Nazirah is dressed in the traditional Burqa. Rafiq carries the Iraqi flag on a pole. They look about themselves at the crowds who are cheering really loudly.




Slowly Abdul walks down the ramp way, taking in the cheers with a look of amusement on his face. He is actually shown laughing. He reaches the ringside and climbs the stairs; Akeed, Rafiq and Nazirah enter the ring. Abdul rolls out of the ring and joins the commentary team.



TOMMY ONIONS: Welcome Abdul. This must be the first time we’ve heard you on commentary?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Yes it is Thomas, they have tried to keep me off the microphone in all of the wrestling companies I have been a part of due to their racism.



JOSEPH GREER: Racism? Prove it.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Why should I? This British company is racist much like their government has been against the Windrush Generation, much like the leader of their opposition and his anti-Jewish thoughts or even not to mention Syria.



JOSEPH GREER: Can we concentrate on what’s happening in the ring. I don't care for your politics, and Tommy doesn't understand them.



Slowly Akeed turns and looks at both of his opponents. Nitro charges Akeed and starts shouting abuse at him.



JOSEPH GREER: Not a good idea.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Can you hear the abuse that man is shouting at my charge? How can you stand this Joseph?



JOSEPH GREER: What? I can’t hear anything.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Blanking out what you don’t understand Joseph? They're racist!



TOMMY ONIONS: Guys!



Akeed just explodes forward with a head butt straight to Nitro’s nose. Camdyn looks on in disbelief. Akeed looks down at the downed Nitro before he slowly turns to look at Camdyn.



JOSEPH GREER: Has he broken his nose?



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s got to hurt.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Much like your commentary Thomas.



TOMMY ONIONS: Fake news!



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Much like the weasel in charge of America right Thomas?



Camdyn charges in and hit’s Nitro with a big time DDT as Akeed walks to the corner and stands watching. Camdyn lifts Nitro up and hit’s him with a big time pile driver and then tries to pin Nitro but doesn’t even get one as Akeed grabs him by his hair and pushes him into the corner shaking his finger at him. Then he motions for Camdyn to attack Nitro who is slowly getting to his feet again.



TOMMY ONIONS: He’s getting Camdyn to do his dirty work for him.



JOSEPH GREER: He’s using Camdyn’s body like a crash test dummy.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: The coward thinks that he can save himself by helping Akeed.



Camdyn starts pummelling Nitro who has to put his hands up to protect himself but is soon backing up into a corner. He then Irish Whips Nitro into the ropes before charging off of the other side trying to intercept Nitro returning but is intercepted by Akeed with a huge clothesline sending Camdyn spiralling through the air before crashing to the mat.



JOSEPH GREER: Ouch, I felt that over here.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Can you see how much this crowd loves us?



TOMMY ONIONS: Wait until you get back to the States to see who loves you then baby!



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Quiet Thomas, adults are talking.



Akeed drags him up and throws him head first out of the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: What is he up to now?



Akeed lifts Nitro up into an Spinning Side Slam.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: For your attention, he named that move Black Hawk Down!



TOMMY ONIONS: What the fuck!?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Do you really have to curse like that Thomas? Your mother would wash your mouth out with soap if she wasn’t on the corner selling tricks for crack.



TOMMY ONIONS: YOU'VE NEVER MET MY MOTHER! Or maybe you have. That description isn't too far off.



Instead of pinning him he throws him out of the ring too. Slowly he climbs out of the ring and picks up Camdyn and throws him back in the ring. As he rolls into the ring Akeed is kicked in the side of the head as he has somehow managed to get to his feet. He continues to rain boot after boot into the Somali’s head, who turns and smiles.



TOMMY ONIONS: He likes it. That’s just pissing him off.



JOSEPH GREER: Now he’s beginning to scare me.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: We will be taking over.



Rafiq walks around the ring and tries to wake Nitro up by slapping him across the face. Akeed gets to his feet as Camdyn tries to pummel him more but is blocked. Akeed grabs Camdyn by the face and picks him up and slams him to the mat.



JOSEPH GREER: One handed Face Slam!



Rafiq slides Nitro into the ring, which Akeed sees. Akeed lifts him up and throws him over his body with a release German suplex. He picks him back up and hits him with another one. And then another. Camdyn is slowly getting to his feet.



TOMMY ONIONS: STAY DOWN!



JOSEPH GREER: Wrong Bet!



TOMMY ONIONS: What?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Joseph is trying to be funny, Thomas, with some witty reference to some 80’s Jean Claude Van Damme movie.We love Van Damme in my country. He could commit excellent jihad.



Akeed grabs hold of Camdyn and launches him over with a release German Suplex who crashes down on top of Nitro. The referee dives and starts the count as Nitro’s shoulders are down.



……….1





……………2



Akeed drags Camdyn off by his hair. He lifts him on his shoulders in an electric chair sitting position and then takes hold of Camdyn with one arm and pulls him over his shoulder and down to the mat while falling to a sit out position so that Camdyn lands on his upper back and neck between his legs.



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: PRIDE OF ISLAM!



Akeed lifts Camdyn back up and throws him out of the ring. Akeed stalks the faced down Nitro. He lifts his Nitro on his shoulders in an electric chair sitting position and then takes hold of Nitro with one arm and pulls him over his shoulder and down to the mat while falling to a sit out position so that his opponent lands on his upper back and neck between his legs.



TOMMY ONIONS: Is that his finisher?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Shut up and watch Akeed destroy both infidels.



Rafiq picks Camdyn back up and throws him back in the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: Why is he taking it to both of them?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Why not?



Akeed kneels between both of his opponents and places a hand on both of their chests.



…………….1



…………….2



………………3!



The referee motions to for the bell to be rang as Akeed throws Nitro aside as he stands up proud.



JOSEPH GREER: What a debut from Akeed.



TOMMY ONIONS: What’s he doing now?



Akeed grabs hold of Nitro’s leg and drags him out of the ring. He drags him up the ramp way by his foot. He gets to the top of the ramp way and lifts up Nitro by his face. He holds him up in the air and shouts abuse at him in Arabic.



JOSEPH GREER: What is he doing?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Owning it Joseph.



Akeed looks down, off the side of the ramp way.



TOMMY ONIONS: NO HE CAN’T?



ABDUL bin HUSSAIN: Yes he can Thomas.



Akeed still holding Nitro’s face choke slams him off of the ramp way onto the cables and productions boxes ten feet below.



JOSEPH GREER: THAT WAS ATTEMPTED MURDER! There are live electrical components down there!



TOMMY ONIONS: Here's a question. If a jobber is killed on live television, and there are millions of witnesses....does anybody care?



Akeed looks down and Nitro as Rafiq makes his way back up the ramp way. He motions for him and as Nazirah joins them. EMT’s and security rush out and are checking on Nitro as Camdyn slowly makes his way to his feet unsure what has happened.



JOSEPH GREER: Camdyn doesn’t know what day it is.



TOMMY ONIONS: Nitro is moving.



Abdul gets up and rolls into the ring. He Irish whips Camdyn into the ropes and then bounces off the other rope with a spear to him. While Camdyn is rolling around on the mat Abdul goes up to the top rope and after a slight pause to measure up the distance and to give a look of joy at the crowd he launches himself off with a twisting shooting star press.



TOMMY ONIONS: Get him out of the ring!



JOSEPH GREER: Remember where we are Tommy, we don’t want to be lynched.



The EMT’s load Nitro onto a board and strap him down. They pass him up to more EMT’s on top of the ramp way as Abdul walks passed them and leaves with the rest of the Arab Nation through the curtains.



TOMMY ONIONS: OK then. That was some serious violence to start the show. Let's see if the rest of the card can measure up!



JOSEPH GREER: Tommy, those men could be seriously hurt. Show a little respect!



TOMMY ONIONS: No.



We go to commercial.

[vastrix]

We're back from commercial.



“Circus Apocalypse” by Vermillion Lies begins playing as Armand von Krauss walks out from the back with a smug expression as the fans boo him. He lights an Egyptian cigarette before making his way down to the ring.





JOSEPH GREER: You would think that arena owners would inform Armand that he can’t be smoking inside.



TOMMY ONIONS: Are you wanting to tell him? I know I’m not.



JOSEPH GREER: You might have a point there.



TOMMY ONIONS: I know I do. Right at the end of this-



JOSEPH GREER: Keep your pants closed!



Inside the ring, Armand looks around with a grin.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: It has come to my attention that Caleb Koresh is now on the injured list. What does this mean for the tag team championship? This means that Eddie Havok must find a new tag team partner to take Caleb’s place or forfeit the titles! After having a tournament for one title, I am in no hurry to have another. So, Edward, get to getting yourself a tag team partner tonight.



Armand von Krauss flicks ashes onto the mat before heading to the back, “Circus Apocalypse” plays him out.



JOSEPH GREER: So Eddie Havok has to find himself a new tag team partner by the end of the night or lose the titles.



TOMMY ONIONS: Wouldn’t it be funny if he chose Soothsayer to be his partner so he doesn’t have to face the man in the ring? It’s what I would do.



JOSEPH GREER: That would be cheap and easy, so of course it's something that you would do. Soothsayer with any partner spells bad news for Eddie Havok.



TOMMY ONIONS: Are you trying to sell Havok short? He could be...some kind of singles...champion?



JOSEPH GREER: A singles champion? Yes. Representing desperate single men everywhere!



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh harsh! Don’t get me wrong as I love it, but harsh!

[vastrix]

BOB MOONEY: This next match is scheduled for one fall! Featuring first...Elizabeth “Apathy” O’Rourke!



The sound of a vintage picture reel began to click and pop, the screen illuminating up counting down like a picture show. The pops, scratches, nicks and debris covered the screen, the numbers counting down, 5...4....3....2....1....as the reel continued, the screaming sounds of Lizzy Hale tore through the arena and the melody and guitar began to pick up. On the screen, a barrage of action shots from Apathy's career, centered and fixated, like an old film would. As the arena went down, red and white lights bathing the fans in a sea of color, Elizabeth emerged, arms held high, a smirk on her face, the boos chorusing from the rafters to the front row. Eyes closed, she sucked it all in, as the haunting sounds of "I Miss The Misery" filled the arena and surrounded her.



##Ohhh, I miss the misery!



##I've been a mess since you stayed,



##I've been a wreck since you changed,



##Don't let me get in your way,



##I miss the lies and the pain,



##The fights that keep us awake-ake-ake



##I'm tellin you!



She took her time down the ramp, egging on those who stood opposing her and spouting off insults of her own, laughing at the crowds and waving them off, dismissively. She rolled into the ring, and ran to the far corner, thrusting her fist into the air and sending a hand sign with her free hand, to her daughter at home.



##I miss the bad things,



##The way you hate me,



##I miss the screaming,



##The way that you blame me!



##Miss the phone calls,



##When it's your fault,



##I miss the late nights,



##Don't miss you at all!



##I like the kick in the face,



##And the things you do to me!



##I love the way that it hurts!



##I don't miss you, I miss the misery!



With the crowd throwing some debris in the ring, she hopped down the turnbuckle and ran to the other on the far side, again throwing her fists into the air, a smug, cocky, careless look on her face, taunting at the crowd, working them up.



##Just know that I'll make you hurt,



##(I miss the lies and the pain what you did to me)



##When you tell me you'll make it worse



##(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)



##I hate that feelin inside



##You tell me how hard you'll try



##But when we're at our worst



##I miss the misery



Elizabeth steps into the ring, waving to the cheering crowd as she settles into her corner.



TOMMY ONIONS: Another day, another day of looking at a hot whore.



JOSEPH GREER: What?



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m calling Apathy a whore.



JOSEPH GREER: I heard you, but why would you do that with Eoin right behind you?



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh fuck! I’m just repeating what Joseph always says!



JOSEPH GREER: He’s not here, but thanks for trying to throw me under the bus.



BOB MOONEY: And her opponent...Chris Storm!



“Storm” by Devin Townsend begins playing, but Chris Storm does not walk out from the back.



JOSEPH GREER: Maybe Chris Storm signed up for the company and then decided he didn’t want to be a part of things after all?



TOMMY ONIONS: Maybe he’s protesting having to fight a girl. Though this is certainly a match that would have played out before in ICW. Dylan would know.



JOSEPH GREER: How would you know?



TOMMY ONIONS: I know all about wrestling. I am a professional broadcast journalist!



JOSEPH GREER: Could have fooled me. Oh, now the curtain is parting, and oh my!



The Patchwork Butcher walks out from the back while holding the bloodied form of Chris Storm by one hand. The Pathwork Butcher is wearing a large bloodstained white butcher’s apron. From the looks of Chris Storm, all of the bloodstains are from him.



JOSEPH GREER: Can we get security out here?



The Patchwork Butcher casually tosses Chris Storm from the entrance stage to where he crashes against a camera and begins to make his way down to the ring while Elizabeth watches on with a look of defiance.



TOMMY ONIONS: Where is Eoin now?



JOSEPH GREER: No idea.



Big Ass Hank steps in the way as the Patchwork Butcher walks down the aisle.



PATCHWORK BUTCHER: I’m the new opponent. Storm couldn’t make it.



Big Ass Hank frowns, but presses a finger to his ear where he gets instructions from the back. He shrugs and steps to the side.



BOB MOONEY: And Apathy’s real opponent for the night...the Patchwork Butcher!



JOSEPH GREER: I see why he’s patchwork, but do I want to know why he was called butcher?



TOMMY ONIONS: No. Just...no.



The Patchwork Butcher steps into the ring, glaring down at Apathy, who takes a couple of steps backwards.



TOMMY ONIONS: I think that the Butcher’s shadow weighs more than Apathy.



JOSEPH GREER: You might be close to the mark there





Eoin O’Rourke runs down to the ring as Apathy ducks under a quick swing from the giant. The Patchwork Butcher reacts quickly, spinning around and seizing Eoin by the throat. Apathy attacks with her fists, but is also seized by the throat. Both are raised into the air, kicking, and trying to break the hold by prying at fingers.



Eoin is hurled against the corner where he bounces off and lands on the mat. Apathy is hurled over the top rope where she goes through the time keeper’s table and strikes her head against the ring railing on the other side of the table!



TOMMY ONIONS: Jesus Christ!



JOSEPH GREER: What kind of a monster is this?



Eoin gets back to his feet, looking around for his wife, but has to duck into a roll as the Patchwork Butcher reaches for him. He stands up, peppering the Butcher with lefts and rights that don’t seem to have any effect on the monster.



Marcus Anderson and Chris Parsons run down to the ring, sliding in with cattle prods. They attack, shocking the monster as Eoin quickly rolls out of the ring to check on his wife. She lays in a heap on the floor, a puddle of blood growing by her head.



Eoin rolls back into the ring with a steel chair, smashing the twitching Patchwork Butcher in the head over and over again.



TOMMY ONIONS: Doesn’t Eoin get a shock each time he hits with that steel chair? Marcus and Chris don’t look like they’re letting up with the juice.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think it’s bothering Eoin as he tries to take the giant down like now!



The Patchwork Butcher knocks both Parsons and Anderson to the side, but one last bloody blast with the steel chair sends him toppling over. Eoin throws the broken chair down and rolls out of the ring to cradle Elizabeth as EMTs come down to the ring to help.



Marcus Anderson and Chris Parsons get up quickly, but then the Patchwork Butcher also rises to his feet. Marcus goes for the lifting reverse sto, but can’t get the Butcher up! Instead, he is grabbed with a vicious bear hug. Parsons grabs one of the cattle prod, jams the button into the on position, and stuffs it down the back of the Butcher’s pants! This brings a release of the chain shocked Marcus as the Butcher tries to work through the current to grab the device from the back of his pants. Chris uses the other cattle prod to jam it into the side of the beast’s neck!



This brings the monster down, making him topple out of the ring where he twitches from the cattle prod in his pants continuing to deliver a shock. Marcus and Chris watch on as sentries as the EMTs work to get Elizabeth to the back. Eoin rolls into the ring, grabbing a microphone.



EOIN O’ROURKE: You thought that this was funny, Armand? Just wait until I get into the ring with Ruby Walsh! You’ll know my anger when I take it out on her! Your little monster will go the same route as your big one!



JOSEPH GREER: Wow. We’re going to go to commercial as we get this sorted out.



TOMMY ONIONS: Who’s going to reach into the Butcher’s pants?

[vastrix]

Backstage Shane Mitchell can be seen talking to someone in a corridor. Whoever he speaks to is out of sight, obscured by some rigging and production equipment.






UNKNOWN VOICE: So if I do it you’ll get me what I want?



SHANE MITCHELL: Of course, I said so didn’t I. I’m the best chance you’ve got right now, I strongly suggest you make the most of the opportunity I present to you. It’s not just your best chance, it might just be your last and only chance.



UNKNOWN VOICE: Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.



Shane smiles that familiar smile of a man who’s getting what he wants.



SHANE MITCHELL: So we're absolutely clear what needs to be done? I expect you to fulfill your end of the agreement first.



UNKNOWN VOICE: So when is this going down?



SHANE MITCHELL: There’s no time like the present - tonight.



Mitchell takes a step forward and in conspiratory fashion puts his arm around the man who is still obscured from sight.



SHANE MITCHELL: He’ll soon regret letting you down, just as he once let me down. Listen very carefully, this is what you’re going to do.

[vastrix]

We go back to ringside.



JOSEPH GREER: Well that was textbook enigmatic. What did we just see? Who was Shane talking to? Hang on, I’m getting word of Elizabeth’s condition from the back. They’re going to take her to the local hospital.



TOMMY ONIONS: After the fall she took not long ago, I’m not shocked. Too bad that Eoin wouldn’t leave her side or some sleepytime fun could have been had.



JOSEPH GREER: You are aware that he can hear you speaking in the playback?



TOMMY ONIONS: Eoin? Ah fuck. Don’t murder me, Eoin. It’s all in good fun. Me and Joey’s ex-wife pretend sleepytime fun.



JOSEPH GREER: Hey!





Backstage, Elizabeth O’Rourke is strapped to a stretcher and is being transported into the back of a waiting ambulance. Eoin O’Rourke stands by, looking to board the ambulance as well.





A restraining hand is laid upon, Eoin’s shoulder. He spins around to cold clock the guy that touched him during a time of such stress only for his fist to be casually caught by Armand von Krauss.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: Might I remind you that you have a match later on this evening? You have obligations to me, my friend. Unless you would prefer to become unemployed and never attain vengeance against my Ruby Walsh.



Eoin tries to pull his hand away from Armand’s iron grasp, but finds that he cannot.



EOIN O’ROURKE: Ruby really is yours?



Armand pulls Eoin’s arm with a smile as he leans in.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: Don’t be fooled by your own ego. You are all mine.



Eoin growls, striking Armand in the mouth with his other fist. It does not get Armand to release Eoin’s other hand. Armand laughs as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: You think you are strong, but you are not. Stay here for your match or your little crusade will become stillborn.



When Eoin turns his head to see that the ambulance has driven away, Armand pulls the trapped hand to pull Eoin into a gut punch that doubles him over, sinking to his knees.



Armand reaches into an inside pocket to pull a golden cigarette box that he draws an Egyptian cigarette from to light it.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: You are better off here to play victim to Walsh in the competing ring.



CHRIS PARSONS: I think that you need to go.


 


Armand blows smoke into the air as Marcus Anderson and Chris Parsons run into the room. Marcus checks on the downed Eoin while Chris holds aloft a flash drive that he hands to Armand, who crushes it in his hand with a sneer.



CHRIS PARSONS: That’s not the only copy of the footage that we have so destroying it does nothing. Menace and the Krimson Kharnival, sweet names by the way fuckwad, anyway all the shit will be done if that footage were to "accidentally get leaked."



Armand narrows his eyes as he looks from Parsons to Anderson to O’Rourke.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: I assume that you are angling for something.



CHRIS PARSONS: Outside of you keeping your hands off of us? Nothing yet. Well be in touch, tootles Army. C’mon.



Simultaneously leaving goodbye to Armand while motioning that an exit was coming. Marcus helps Eoin away as Chris Parsons stands and holds Armand’s attentions.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: You will regret this. Everything that has happened to you up until this day will have been but a fond memory compared to what will happen to you next.



Chris opens his mouth to spit out another quip, but hesitates for just a moment.



CHRIS PARSONS: Promises, promises. You're such a tease Army! Bye Dahling...



JOSEPH GREER: I think they’re playing with fire here. What footage do you think they have?



TOMMY ONIONS: Good footage to make Armand angry like that. Maybe some Russian prostitutes pissing on him or some shit.

[vastrix]

JOSEPH GREER: Well, if you can get that delightful image out of your head, we’ve got an exciting match up next.



TOMMY ONIONS: Damn right, have you seen that Harris chick?



JOSEPH GREER: I was being sarcastic Tommy. I’ve seen Apathy matches with more promotion material than this one.



Joseph Greer does a double take as he looks towards the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Hey, that’s Natasha Harris, she’s already in the ring Tommy. I guess she couldn’t be bothered to think of a ring entrance so she sneaked down without anyone noticing.



TOMMY ONIONS: With an ass like that I’m noticing her alright.



JOSEPH GREER: Hey, there’s Danny Parsons too and they’re both in the ring! Damn it, neither of these two played any music, we nearly missed the start of the match. These two need to learn a couple of things about performance theatre. This sucks.



TOMMY ONIONS: She sucks alright. I hope so anyway.



JOSEPH GREER: Hey what’s this, there’s someone coming to the ring!



TOMMY ONIONS: It’s Dave, what’s he doing out here?~





The wacky pornographer Dave is walking with purpose to ringside.



JOSEPH GREER: He was eliminated from the battle royal last week as a result of a crotch injury. Surely he doesn’t blame Danny Parsons’ face for being slammed into his codpiece.



Referee Shawna Savante makes her way over to Dave to immediately warn him off any interference.



DAVE: Huh? I’m not here to spoil the match, I’m here to film it. On behalf of Max Fister productions I’m directing our newest niche feature - Brawlin’ Bitches.



Dave points at Natasha Harris.



DAVE: Come on sugartits, you’re not telling me she doesn’t have that perfect girl next door thing going on. Horny young dudes would give their right hand to smash her backdoor in, well maybe not their right hand but they’d give a different limb.



Natasha rolls under the bottom rope and gets right up in the face of Dave.



NATASHA: Did you just call me a bitch?



DAVE: A brawlin’ bitch, there’s a difference. Don’t worry, bitch, slut, whore, they’re all terms of endearment in the porn world.



Dave is spun around by a slap that echoes loud enough to wake a mummy in the nearest pyramid. Natasha slips back into the ring.



DAVE: Aw man, that little bootylicious bundle just got even hotter, she’s kinky!



The bell rings and immediately the two combatants tie up.



DING DING DING!



Dave starts to organise the array of cameramen surrounding the ring who look at him in total bewilderment.



JOSEPH GREER: I think Dave is planning on ‘directing’ this match Tommy.



TOMMY ONIONS: Awesome, I’ve seen some of Max Fister’s productions, and when I say some what I mean to say is all, and they’re a hell of a lot more exciting than this match promised to be.



Danny has overpowered Natasha and turned the collar and elbow tie up into an arm ringer. Natasha uses her agility, rolling forward before leaping up into a kick to Parsons head. Danny releases his grip on the young ladies wrist and takes a step back.



Natasha runs off the ropes and baseball slides through Danny’s legs before jumping up and wrapping her legs around his neck as he turns around.



“Hey you, get a close up of that,” yells Dave to the nearest cameraman.



Natasha completes her head scissor takedown transitioning into a pin attempt as she straddles Danny’s chest.



DAVE: Oh it’s gonna be one of THOSE vids, she’s a dom!



Danny kicks out on the count of one. As he rises he’s met by a spectacular drop kick by the high flying lady



JOSEPH GREER: This is a great start by Natasha Harris Tommy, if she can prevent herself being distracted by Dave she’s got every chance of pulling off a victory tonight.



TOMMY ONIONS: She’s got every chance of pulling off more than just a victory, I’m ready and waiting.



Again Natasha runs the ropes again this time hitting a flying forearm.



JOSEPH GREER: She’s keeping up a high tempo, stopping Parsons from taking advantage of his close grappling skills.



TOMMY ONIONS: I think I speak for all Max Fister fans when I say we want to see some close grappling.



Danny kicks out of another Harris pin attempt and quickly rises to his feet. Natasha attempts a spinning heel kick but this time Danny ducks and then slips his arm between the legs of Natasha as he scoops her up in a body slam position.



DAVE: That’s it fella, use the fist, get it right up there!



Danny flashes a quick look of disapproval at Dave before hitting the body slam. Natasha Harris’ back arches as she rolls onto her front. Danny hooks her arms over his thighs as he squats into a camel clutch that bends Natasha’s back in an unnaturally painful arch. Her face contorts in agony as Parsons applies maximum pressure.



DAVE: Hey dude. You over there with the camera. Yes you. Get a close up of her face, get a shot for those masochistic fuckers out there.



Natasha tries to power herself up but she doesn’t have the strength to escape. Danny’s face is screwed up with the pressure he’s trying to exert on the girls back but Natasha continues her refusal to tap out as Shawna asks the question. Eventually a frustrated Danny Parsons releases the hold and stomps aggressively on the small of her back.



JOSEPH GREER: Danny Parsons showing his inexperience there Tommy, she wasn’t getting out of that hold, she’d have had to submit eventually.



Parsons bends down and grabs a handful of Natasha’s hair. He begins to lift her but she thrusts an arm out connecting squarely between his legs.



DAVE: Jeez, I’m guessing we’ll be needing a stunt cock for the money shot.



Rather than capitalising on her below the belt shot, Natasha Harris approaches the ropes and points down at Dave.



NATASHA: You, I’ve had enough of this. I’m not a piece of meat to be ogled!



Danny Parsons comes at her from behind (pardon the pun) and pulls her backwards into a surprise pin attempt. Dave can be seen blatantly admiring her taut upturned buttocks as they thrust in the air prominently.



DAVE: Even I don’t know that position dude - but I like it!



One…







Two…







Natasha gets a shoulder up just before the three count.



Natasha leaps to her feet remonstrating with the official about the presence of Dave. In an unusual turn of events Danny Parsons joins her, both opponents arguing with Shawna Savante about the same outside interference. Natasha and Danny look at one another with a silent understanding. Both Danny and Natasha leave the ring and approach Dave from either side.



DAVE: Hey, this isn’t a threesome movie guys



DANNY PARSONS: No, but you’re about to get tag teamed.



Danny punches Dave who is spun around into a vicious slap from Natasha. This in turn sends him straight into another big right hand from Danny - a left from Natasha - a right from Danny - a left from Natasha. As Dave recoils for a big roundhouse right Natasha realises Shawna has reached a count of 9 and slips back into the ring in the nick of time.



DING DING DING



Danny looks up in realisation as Shawna raises Natasha Harris’ hand.



The winner of this match by way of a count out...NATASHA HARRIS!!!



Enraged Danny Parsons grabs Dave by the collar and hits him with his fisherman suplex finishing move before storming out of the arena.



JOSEPH GREER: Well, that was odd, but what the Hell, we have ourselves a winner Tommy.



TOMMY ONIONS: There’s only one winner here Greer and that’s Max Fister Productions. Look we’ve got Shawna Savante and Natasha Harris alone in the ring together, that’s the potential for a great finale!



JOSEPH GREER: You’re disgusting Tommy.



A drowsy Dave lifts his head and winks at Tommy Onions in recognition of a kindred spirit.

[vastrix]

Dave rolls out of the ring, smiling coyly to himself, as Bob Mooney steps through the ropes with the intention of getting things back on track as quickly as possible.



BOB MOONEY: This next match is scheduled for one fall! Featuring first the challenger…”Predator” Marcus Anderson!



“Loser Like Me” by Pink begins playing as Marcus Anderson walks out from the back. He is quickly joined by Chris Parsons. They both head down to the ring to the cheering of the fans.



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m guessing that Parsons is heading down to the ring in case the Patchwork Butcher is sent out again. He has the cattle prod in hand. How did he get that back!?



JOSEPH GREER: I have not heard yet if there were any updates on Elizabeth. I’m sure she has a concussion at the very least. It was monstrous of Armand to make Eoin stay here to wrestle his match instead of going with her to the hospital.



TOMMY ONIONS: Ratings before feelings. That’s the going philosophy anyway.



JOSEPH GREER: That is true, but it doesn’t make it right.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent...Jason Kross!



No music plays as Jason Kross comes out from the back to walk down the aisle. The crowd stay pretty silent as he walks down to the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Not much of a reaction from the crowd one way or another.



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s what happens when you can’t maintain a serious run. People just don’t give a fuck about you one way or another.



The two begin circling around one another as the bell rings to start the match. Jason goes in for a punch that Marcus does a spin to dodge, connecting with a back elbow before tying Jason up with an armbar that he transitions to a hip toss to the mat.



Jason hits the mat in a roll, getting back to his feet quickly. Marcus is on him quickly, applying a full nelson for a few seconds, transitioning to a suplex with a bridge for the cover.



One





Two





Thr-Jason Kross kicks out.



JOSEPH GREER: Marcus looks to be very basic technically here.



TOMMY ONIONS: Like his father, but without the super aggressive edge. In other words, kind of boring.



Both men quickly rise to their feet, Marcus grabs Jason first, and sends him into the ropes. He hits a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker on the rebound. He applies a grounded side headlock, cranking the pressure on Jason’s neck.



TOMMY ONIONS: Wake me when he hits a move that I care about.



JOSEPH GREER: It’s classic technical-



Tommy Onions makes a loud snoring noise to cut Joseph off.



JOSEPH GREER: Real mature.



Even Chris Parsons slaps the mat in impatience.



Marcus breaks the hold and stomps on the back of Jason’s head to the cheering of the fans. He waits for Jason to get back to his feet and hits a ddt before going for the cover.



One





Tw-Jason kicks out!



TOMMY ONIONS: A bit better, but he could have done his finisher instead.



JOSEPH GREER: You think that it’s time for that already?



TOMMY ONIONS: Why not? Finish the match so we can go on to the next.



Marcus stands up, seizing Jason in a bear hug as he rises. He clenches the bear hug tight, but only holds it for a brief time before transitioning to a belly to belly brainbuster.



JOSEPH GREER: Marcus with the Anaconda Death Grip!



TOMMY ONIONS: Does he know that Anaconda is slang for penis?



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think that he knows that.



With Jason Kross down, Marcus applies a leg trap camel clutch!



JOSEPH GREER: Marcus with Entrapment. This one could be all over!



TOMMY ONIONS: We could only hope.



In the center of the ring with no way to break out, Jason Kross taps out.



DING DING DING!



MARCUS ANDERSON WINS!



Bob Mooney takes the microphone to make it official.



BOB MOONEY: Winner of the match via submission...Marcus Anderson!



Marcus Anderson and Chris Parsons do a quick celebration in the ring before heading to the back. The crowd is mostly ambivalent about this.



TOMMY ONIONS: Look at them run like they expect the Patchwork Butcher to come back to the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: That sounds perfectly sensible to be honest. Where does RSW continue to find these monsters?



We go to commercial.

[vastrix]

We're back from commercial.



"Psychosocial" by Slipknot suddenly hit and the lights begin to flash violently to the beat. The ramp starts to flood with smoke and red lasers begin to strobe around the arena. Eddie Havok starts to walk down the ramp. He appears to be in a pissed of mood more than normal. He comes to the end of the ramp, he looks around before he begins to circle the ring. He slowly climbs up the steel steps. He climbs through the ropes. Eddie towards the ropes on the far side of the ring and stares out toward the fans with a focused demeanour etched across his face. The music slowly quiets down as Eddie motions to arena floor for a microphone.



HAVOK: So as you all know. Armand came out here earlier tonight and made a speech. So I have had to find a new tag partner.



Eddie looks down at his title belts around his waist. Holding in his hand is the title belt that was once held by Caleb Koresh.



HAVOK: So have I spent this time running around the locker room. No, I haven't I went back to my locker room to debate on the situation that I have found myself in



Shaking his head. Turning towards the entrance way.



HAVOK: So who shall I pick as my new partner? Should I pick Chris Storm, the guy that hasn't actually wrestled a match since joining the fed? How about Dave? Maybe Isaiah Zepp, Jakie Wentzel, Dan Rosen, Danny Parson, Camdyn Cross, Ruby Walsh, Nitro KYX, Marcus Anderson, Jason Kross, Natasha Harris or Kevin Rouser



Standing against the ropes almost waiting to see if someone was to appear from the backstage.



HAVOK: Maybe look at a former tag partner Vic Clarke or maybe look at my family for a partner!



Suddenly Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode starts to play. A figure appears in the entrance way. Standing with a microphone in hand.



BLACK ICE: Hold up a moment their Eddie. While you name imbecile after imbecile after imbecile, You have forgotten where you originated from.



TOMMY ONIONS: What the hell does he mean by that?



JOSEPH GREER: Do you ever know what the hell Gibson is talking about? And what does Black Ice even mean?!?



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m pretty sure that’s a form of a new car scent you find at local gas stations.



Gibson slowly walks down the ramp, he waited for a moment before sliding underneath the bottom rope and looking directly into the eyes of his former partner and opponent later tonight in the triple threat match that also involved “D.



BLACK ICE: You are only in possession of those Tag Team Championships because of me. But of course, you forget about that. You forget I am the reason you are in the position you are in the first place. Typical unappreciative man.



Eddie holds up one of the titles belts mocking Black Ice. Taking the opportunity, Black Ice grabs the title belt from Eddie's hand. He places the title over his shoulder.



BLACK ICE: You DON'T need to look any further for a Tag Team partner my dear friend. Because from this point on you and I are officially amigos, compadres, and most importantly you and I are reigning and defending Riot Star Wrestling Tag Team Champions. Now we’ll discuss the Team name later, but for right now...I have to get ready to put to rest an old foe once and for all take his championship away from him, now...if you’ll excuse moi.



JOSEPH GREER: Wait can he do that?



TOMMY ONIONS: Andre The Giant did it.



JOSEPH GREER:I don’t think that situation is the same this. Gibson just made himself one half of the Tag Team Champions, Andre relinquished the World Title for loot.



TOMMY ONIONS: I see no difference.



Heading off up the ramp, Black Ice stops and hold the title belt above his head. Eddie exits the ring and starts to ascend the ramp shaking his head in disbelief at what had just happened.

[vastrix]

We're back from commercial, and at ringside with the commentary team.



JOSEPH GREER: What a night thus far RSW fans!



TOMMY ONIONS: You say that every night Greer! Nothing that great's even happened yet. We've had some people turn up here like they couldn't give two fucks. I say we cut some of the shit off this roster before we leave this EFZ Network deal!



JOSEPH GREER: Tommy Onions, if there's one thing that I've learned never to doubt, that is the level of talent in the RSW locker room! But there’s been one man who’s likely had a series of bad nights since Masquerade, Rob Riot.



Greer goes silent as a quick series of still shots from the recent Pay Per View show the battle between the founder and the monster Garmr. Leading to the shocking reveal of Segomo. Sammy, Riot’s own flesh and blood had now returned to his father, to destroy him and the company that bears his name.



JOSEPH GREER: We’re told that earlier today, Riot himself reached out to Alyssa Lucchi for a sit down interview. I can only imagine where Riot’s mind is after all that happened at Masquerade, a show that has been plagued in years past.



TOMMY ONIONS: Like that time you all ended up in Russian prison? How’d that go for you again Joey?



JOSEPH GREER: (gritting his teeth) I’d rather not talk about it, so without further ado we go to Alyssa Lucchi with RSW Co-owner AND Founder, Rob Riot.



Cutting to, new RSW logo backdrops; Alyssa oddly sits alone, her only companion is a HD screen.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Greetings RSW fans, Alyssa Lucchi here in the hours before Anarchy Thirty Six takes over Egypt. On the heels of a chaotic night at Masquerade I’m joined now, via satellite by the man who defeated the monster only to come face to face with his greatest nightmare. Ladies and gentlemen, RSW founder; Rob Riot…



Riot looks like Hell. His usually shaved head is overgrown with stubbled hair, and his beard is unkempt, straggled and wild. There are bags under his eyes that you could hang a hook off, and his gaze is distant and glassy. The clothes he’s wearing - unusual for Riot, are a simple t-shirt and jeans combination – show the grim of several days wear. In short, he has the look of a man who’s in the grip of a deep fugue.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Thanks for this, the RSW fan base has been asking the same questions, are you alright? And…is Segomo really your son?



It takes a while for Riot to respond. He barely seems to be aware that Alyssa is in the room with him, and when the question gets his attention, he looks at her with an expression that’s almost bewilderment. With a visible effort, and a shift in his chair that cracks his back, he allows himself to focus and respond.



ROB RIOT: Thank you, Alyssa. And thank you to everyone who I know has been asking about my well being, I can assure everyone at home that I’m beaten up from the match, I’m beaten up inside, but I’m still here. I’m still ticking. I am battered and I am bruised…but I’m still alive. And yes, Alyssa. Segomo, Sammy, whatever you want to call him but he’ll always be Sammy to me - that was my son. That was no trick. I would know those eyes anywhere. My son.



A man haunted by the ghosts of his past, Riot had practically seen it all throughout his stories career. But this? This had wounded the keeper of the clock in a way no physicality ever could.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Rob, you’ve been in this business a long time. RSW has seen countless legends and wannabe legends try to destroy this company, with the threat of Garmr gone and in his place, Sammy; is this the greatest threat the roster and yourself have ever faced?



Riot shuffles again in his seat, visibly screwing up his jaw at the question, wrestling with possible answers. It takes him a while to arrive at one.



ROB RIOT: Sammy is not a threat, Alyssa. Sammy is an 18 year old boy who, I feel, has grown up being given the wrong information by the wrong people, and then physically trained and turned into a killing machine by one of the most brutal individuals I’ve ever shared a ring with.What Garmr knows, Sammy knows, and judging by what he did at Masquerade, he may know a little more than that, too. What he thinks he knows of me, he does not. Sammy….and I have to believe you’re out there watching this…speak to me. I don’t know what you’ve been told, or when you were told it but please, please…..just talk to me. You can break my neck afterwards if that’s what you really want, but first I need you to hear me.



Riot delivered the latter half of that appeal directly down the camera lens, with the pained expression of a broken man.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: That brings me to even more uncomfortable territory. We’ve seen you step into the ring when things look bleak. Parsons, Merciless, Cardone, Valentyne, most recently Garmr. There’s no other way for me to ask this Rob, will you fight your son?



Riot prickles, his face contorted into an expression of anger and disgust, so much so that Alyssa visibly flinches, but the psychologically exhausted Englishman somehow arrests himself, and answers calmly, but to the point.



ROB RIOT: He’s my flesh and blood. He’s the reason I’ve kept breathing these past sixteen years. He’s my son. I’ll never so much as lay a hand on him.



There’s a sincerity behind his pain that simply can not be faked. Yet, she had a job to do. She’d need to keep asking him about Sammy. She’d need to keep Rob Riot away and Robert Hill speaking.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Could we, the RSW staff and fans take that to mean you’re inviting Sammy to come back to RSW for this meeting? You have pretty much guaranteed that no harm will come to him, is Sammy as Segomo a contracted RSW wrestler?



ROB RIOT: Firstly, his name is Samuel. Not Segomo. That’s a slave name, and that was a name given to him by people who know nothing of him and care less. But Sammy isn’t a contracted anything right now. The last time you saw or heard from him is the last time I did. He left the arena and disappeared into the night, and all our best efforts have found nothing since, the same way they found nothing for years until he turned up at Masquerade. Sammy is a ghost. Sammy has learned to hide. And Sammy might want to kill me because that’s what he’s been told to want. Well, son, I’m still standing. If that was your objective, you’ve failed. You’re going to have to come again. You came out into the open. You started this conversation. Come and finish it. If you want to beat me down I’ll lay down for you. But our story cannot end like this.



Clearly uncomfortable, Alyssa takes a deep breath. She owed this man a lot, he took a chance on her time and time again when her own judgement had failed her. To see him in the thrall of such sorrow was difficult. Rob Riot, the man who’d been through war after war after war, now looked defeated. The esteemed warrior appeared mortal now.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Wow…we’ve known each other a long time now Rob, we’ve traveled the world either here in RSW or back in PWA. Lately some might say you’ve been collecting careers, retiring some significant names along the way. But this? This is different, this is so personal…so full of love and hate and so much more, of Sammy takes you up on your offer, where does this lead? Is there any outcome that doesn’t end with you…



Alyssa can’t say it, but her meaning is crystal clear. Riot had almost died several times throughout RSW’s tremulous roller coaster of ownership power plays. Yet the clock continued to tick and so the man endured, but now the question was. Could the veteran and future Hall of Famer endure this? Riot half smirks. He knows exactly how the question is angled.



ROB RIOT: I didn’t survive sixteen years without my boy to fade away the moment he shows his face. I’m not down, Alyssa. I’m up. I have a purpose now. Hate doesn’t last. It can’t. He’s spent all these years being raised to despise a vision of me, a false idol inside his head. He has to deal with reality now, just as I do. But if you’re asking me whether I’m prepared for him to finish what he tried to start at Masquerade? Well….you answer me this. What parent wouldn’t die for their child?



What a question to ask. What parent wouldn’t die for their child? The ultimate bond, only broken in death but never completely lost.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Rob, I don’t know what to say. I hope Segomo…no…I hope Sammy takes you up on your offer. Thank you so much for talking to me, this couldn’t have been easy for you…



The satellite feed flickers slightly then dies completely leaving Alyssa as we found her, alone.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: …Rob? Rob, are you there? Well RSW, that was RSW founder Rob Riot after the emotional and physical toll Masquerade exacted from him, I can’t help but feel the coming weeks and months could be even more chaotic than the siege Garmr attempted upon RSW. Back to you Joseph and Tommy.



And with that, the single most difficult interview she’d done since her return was over, butt questions remained. Was Rob staying in Hong Kong a vain attempt to find his fallen angel? What became of the boy’s mother? Would Sammy come back? There were too many variables.



JOSEPH GREER: An absolutely heartbreaking look into the psyche of Rob Riot there Tommy.



TOMMY ONIONS: *sniffs Shut up Greer! I think I need to call my kids.



JOSEPH GREER: You…have kids?



TOMMY ONIONS: I mean…yeah…probably. Even you get around like your boy here does, I probably have a few Onion nuggets out there. If anyone out there thinks you’re my kid, I want you to call Maury…he’ll know what to do.



JOSEPH GREER: Way to take the feeling out of this moment.



TOMMY ONIONS: It’s a gift.



JOSEPH GREER: Well folks, hopefully Rob Riot can get the closure he needs and is back here with us live and in person soon, we’ll get back to the action after this!

[vastrix]

RSW comes back from commercial. Bob Mooney is in the ring, waiting to do the honours.



BOB MOONEY: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from England….’The Reverend’ Shane Mitchell!



”In the Name of the Father” bursts through the PA….and then stops, abruptly. The house lights come back on. The crowd boos in confusion.



JOSEPH GREER: What the? Is Shane not here? That’s going to be a huge disappointment to these fans, Mitchell and Rouser were expected to put on a classic!



TOMMY ONIONS: You were expecting to see a wrestling classic from Kevin Rouser? Have you even seen his promos recently? The man is one hundred percent out of his mind. Mitchell probably took one look at him and decided he was better to stay away.



JOSEPH GREER: Well if that was the case perhaps we couldn’t blame him; Rouser was loosely linked to an arson attack on a church recently…



As the announcers debate the issue, Shane Mitchell walks through the curtains, but something is different. He’s wearing his usual attire…minus his dog collar. No pomp, no ceremony…and no sign of Tiffany. He walks down to the ring with a dark look on his face, paying no attention to his surroundings at all. The boos intensify.



TOMMY ONIONS: Do we have a power cut? Have the techical team gone home? What’s going on here?



JOSEPH GREER: Well….Shane looks like he’s here for the fight, at least. But something’s amiss. I’ve never seen him without the dog collar before. I’ve got a bad feeling, Tommy. There have been all kinds of unsavoury stories coming out of Arcadia, whispers about what Shane’s been doing down there….and there’s also been gossip that Soothsayer’s somehow got inside his head.



TOMMY ONIONS: Isn’t that pretty much the point of a soothsayer?



JOSEPH GREER: Yes. But that’s hardly the point. And where’s Tiffany?



TOMMY ONIONS: I knew there was a reason I didn’t have a boner. Where IS Tiffany? Should I go and look for her?



JOSEPH GREER: No. Definitely not.



Mitchell completes his walk to the ring, steps through the ropes, and stands in the centre, waiting for his opponent.



”One in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads starts up over the PA.



On the RioTron, above the entrance, the word ‘rOUsEr’ appears in giant, jagged letters.



JOSEPH GREER: Well this isn’t Rouser’s usual entrance music. Nothing about this match is right!



TOMMY ONIONS: I think we’re getting rOUsEr, the crazy version. That’s going to be fun, right?



JOSEPH GREER: Hardy.



TOMMY ONIONS: Hardy?



JOSEPH GREER: Did I say “Hardy?” I meant “hardly.” I don’t know what came over me there.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent, from Sheffield, England…..Kevin Rouser!



Rouser steps through the entrance, his arms open wide, wearing a smile of pure ecstatic wonder. The crowd pops for him; they like weird stuff.



JOSEPH GREER: Look at the expression on Kevin Rouser’s face. That man’s not all there.



TOMMY ONIONS: There’s got to be drugs involved, Greer. Do you think there’s drugs involved? Do you think he could hook a brother up?



JOSEPH GREER: Only a complete maniac could look upon the state of Kevin Rouser and want to be like….oh. My apologies. For a moment there I forgot who I was talking to.



Rouser high fives some fans at ringside, exclaiming such things as “DELIGHFUL!” and “MOMENTOUS” as he goes. Mitchell stamps his feet in the ring, impatiently, as Rouser stands on the apron, with his back to him, gazing out upon the fans. He beckons for a microphone, and addresses them, ignoring the requests from the match referee for him to get inside the ring.



rOUsEr: My wonderful followers, I come before you to today with most MOMENTOUS news! During my travels today to join you in this most wonderful Ria of Alexander, I have consulted with the prophets, and been blessed with the wisdom of Tutankhamen!



The referee physically pats Rouser on the back and motions for him to come through the ropes, but he completely ignores him.



rOUsEr: And now, standing between the Pyramids of GEEEEEEZAAAA, the astral planes have opened and informed me that it is time to make a grand PROCLAMATION….



DING DING DING!



The bell rings to start the match, as the referee grows impatient. Rouser still isn’t in the ring.



Mitchell runs at him and drives a high knee into the Kevin’s back, sending him flying off the apron and onto the guard rails, where he collides heavily. Wasting no time, Mitchell follows him out.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think Mitchell is in possession of any great patience today, and certainly none of Rouser’s tomfoolery.



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s not fair, Greer. I wanted to find out about his grand proclamation!



JOSEPH GREER: I really didn’t.



Rouser looks flustered, and even more so when Mitchell grabs him by the head and slams it into the ringside barrier, before whipping Kevin away from the guardrail and towards the ring steps, which he collides with, heavily.



Rouser pops up with a glassy expression on his face, and is immediately cut down by a flying clothesline from Mitchell, who propels himself off the steps to generate velocity. Rouser goes down hard again.



Mitchell yanks him up by the hair and rolls him into the ring, ignoring the warning from the referee as he rolls right on in after his prey.



Rouser gets up on his knees, and looks around, confused.



ROUSER: Hey, where the fuck am I? This isn’t Hong Kong. No, wait, I wasn’t in Hong Kong. I was in a church. There was a fire.



He looks up, and sees Shane advancing on him. Rouser greets him with a smile.



ROUSER: Hey, Shane! Good to see you man! Are you here about the church fire? Because I don’t think I had anything to…OW!



Mitchell cuts him short with a strong boot to the head, and goes for the cover.



ONE…..



Kevin Rouser kicks out, and rolls away into the corner.



ROUSER: Right, right, we’re in a wrestling match. I get it.



JOSEPH GREER: Did you hear that? It was like Rouser suddenly realised he was in a match. How is that possible? He was here the whole time.



TOMMY ONIONS: I dunno Greer. It was like getting smashed into the ring post woke him up a bit. You could say he’s woken!





JOSEPH GREER: You could, but for legal reasons, we won’t.



TOMMY ONIONS: Broken, then?



JOSEPH GREER: Same legal issues.



Mitchell charges into the corner after Rouser, but Kevin gets a boot up into Mitchell’s face, sending him stumbling away. He charges after him, bringing him down with a running bulldog. Rouser mounts Mitchell and fires away with punches, getting to five before the referee forces a break.



He hovers by the ropes, biding his time, waiting for Mitchell to get back to his feet, before chopping him down with a running lariat, and a second as he comes back the other way, finding Shane scrambling to his feet just in time to get put down again. Rouser goes for a quick cover.



ONE….



Shane Mitchell kicks out.



Rouser crouches down, snaring Shane around the neck and arm, and applies a half chicken wing. Shane growls in the negative as the referee asks him if he’d like to give it up.



JOSEPH GREER: You know, when his head’s in the game, Kevin Rouser is quite a capable wrestler.



TOMMY ONIONS: A guy who’s been wrestling for well over a decade turns out to be a pretty good wrestler? With powers of deduction like that, Greer, it’s a wonder you don’t work for the FBI.



JOSEPH GREER: I’m just saying it’s a shame he doesn’t use it more often.



TOMMY ONIONS: The same’s true of your penis, Greer. The same’s true of your penis.



Dragging himself across the mat, Mitchell reaches the ropes for force a break, and Rouser lets him go as the referee reaches a count of five. He immediately goes to grab him again, but Shane rakes his eyes, and gets himself a second warning from the beleaguered referee as Rouser staggers away. Mitchell pushes past the referee and nails Rouser with a right hand to the face, sending him sprawling onto the mat.



Giving him no time to breathe, Shane wraps his arms around Rouser’s waist and lifts him off the mat, snapping him back and overhead with a German suplex, showing impressive strength.





Rouser groggily picks himself up and charges at Mitchell, but this time Mitchell catches him with an exploder suplex, snatching the leg and sending him overhead and crashing down again.



TOMMY ONIONS: What were you saying about Rouser’s wrestling skill?



JOSEPH GREER: It’s impressive. That’s not to say he can necessarily compete with Shane Mitchell, who’s one of the very best ever to step foot in an RSW ring. That rake of the eyes, though - that says everything about where Shane is mentally.



TOMMY ONIONS: Kevin Rouser is in the ring, and you want to talk about where SHANE is mentally?



Shane pulls Rouser up, whips him to the ropes, and catches him coming back the other way with a thunderous spinebuster, slamming him back down hard onto the canvas. Pressing his momentum, he grabs Rouser’s legs and slingshots him towards the corner, where Rouser hits the turnbuckles head first, and then smiles.



He turns back to face Mitchell with a huge smile on his face.



rOUSeR: Monsignor Mitchell! I KNEW you’d release me!



As Shane stares at him with astonishment, Rouser charges across the ring and spears Mitchell right into the mat.



JOSEPH GREER: It’s happened again! Rouser’s personality completely changed in front of our eyes!



TOMMY ONIONS: This is the fun one. Can we keep him on the fun one?



JOSEPH GREER: It seems to happen whenever he takes a significant blow to the head.



TOMMY ONIONS: Then tell Mitchell to stop hitting him in the head, this is the Rouser we want!





JOSEPH GREER: Oh, so Shane should just surrender the match for your entertainment?



TOMMY ONIONS: Yes!



JOSEPH GREER: You’re an idiot.



Rouser takes hold of Mitchell by the legs, arching his back….and lifts Shane off the floor, whipping him around in a giant swing! Mitchell grabs furiously at thin air, helpless as he can’t grab on to anything.



rOUsEr: You spin me right round, baby, right round, like a record baby right round, round, round. Burned Peter, why did your mortal vessel have to leave us on this SINFUL Earth?



Rouser releases Mitchell, and he sails through the air, landing in a messy heap near the corner, which he crawls towards dizzily, propping himself up against the bottom rung of the turnbuckles.



rOUsEr: How WONDERFULLY opportune!



Kevin charges into the corner with a diving low elbow smash, landing it across Mitchell’s throat. He stays there in the corner with Shane, sort of awkwardly embracing him.



JOSEPH GREER: What the Hell was Rouser doing there?



TOMMY ONIONS: He was singing a fucking awesome song by Dead or Alive. How could you not know that song!?



JOSEPH GREER: Well my apologies if I’m not ‘down with the kids’.



TOMMY ONIONS: “Down with the kids?” it’s at least thirty years old!



In the corner, Rouser is cradling the head of his still dizzied opponent, and speaking to him soothingly.



rOUsEr: Monsignor Mitchell, there is no need for us to undertake any further COMBAT in this theatre belonging to Robert of Riot. I have come to LIBERATE YOU from the minions of God, and open your eyes to a world of ASTRAL PLEASURES! Won’t you embrace with me and join me in song? Two little boys had two little toys, each had a wooden horse. Gaily they played, each Summer’s day….uck!



Mitchell reaches up and grabs Rouser by the throat, jerking his head abruptly into the second turnbuckle, and breaking free of his grasp.



SHANE MITCHELL: To Hell with this!



Mitchell wriggles out from beneath Rouser, gets up and instead of trying to wrestle him, lays it on thick with boots, kicking Rouser everywhere in his body, bruising him up and opening vivid red welts on his torso. Rouser attempts to cover up, but Shane’s wailing on him like it’s a prison beating. The referee is trying to pull him away, but to little avail.



JOSEPH GREER: Damn. Mitchell’s had enough. Shane…he’s just snapped, Tommy. Shane Mitchell has snapped.



TOMMY ONIONS: I guess you could say he’s broken now, too?



JOSEPH GREER: No. Don’t.



The referee finally drags Mitchell away, screaming at him and threatening to call in the DQ, and Shane raises his hands to indicate he’s doing nothing wrong.



Rouser tries to get to his feet, but he’s had seven bells kicked out of him. He stumbles forwards into Shane’s waiting arms….



JOSEPH GREER: GOD’S WRATH! The God’s Wrath DDT! This one is all but over!



Mitchell plants Rouser’s head squarely into the mat with his trademarked finisher, and goes for the cover…



ONE…..



TWO….



….Shane pulls Kevin’s head back up off the mat. The crowd boos.



TOMMY ONIONS: Um….OK? Did Shane forget how wrestling matches work?



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think so, Tommy. Look at Shane’s eyes. That’s anger. That’s evil. I don’t like this at all.



Instead of resuming the cover, Shane mounts Rouser, knees pinned either side of his chest, and punches him in the face as hard as he physically can. Shane’s head rebounds off the mat.



ROUSER: What the….?



Shane dials back, and blasts him in the face again.



rOUsER: DELIGHTFUL!



Punch.



ROUSER: OW!



Punch.



rOUsER: MAJESTIC!



Punch.



ROUSER: Ugh…



Punch.



rOUsEr: PROSAIC!



The referee has hold of Shane’s shoulders, trying to pull the rabid former man of God off his victim, but to no avail.



Punch.



ROUSER: Stop…



Punch.



rOUsEr: STUPENDOUS!



Punch.



ROUSER:…it hurts….



Punch.



rOUsEr: Yaaaaaaaasssss!



Left with no alternative, the referee calls for the bell.



DING DING DING!



This gets Shane’s attention. Mitchell shoots the referee a dark stare, but Bob Mooney is already in the process of confirming the decision.



BOB MOONEY: Ladies and Gentlemen, with Shane Mitchell refusing to obey the referee’s commands, the winner of this match as a result of a disqualification…KEVIN ROUSER!



JOSEPH GREER: Rouser wins…a win in name only, but a win all the same. Shane completely lost it out here tonight.



TOMMY ONIONS: Which mode is Rouser in? I lost count of the punches. Is he still in the fun one?



JOSEPH GREER: Look at the state of his face, Tommy, Shane’s beaten him to a pulp. There is no fun mode for Rouser right now!



On the mat, Rouser’s face is a mess. His lip is split, and blood is smeared across his entire jaw because of it. His eyes are swollen, and his eyes roll around in his head. He’s barely conscious.



The referee is trying to escape from the ring, but Shane grabs him by the shirt and drags him back.



SHANE MITCHELL: I listen to nobody’s “Commandments” anymore. You understand me? Nobody’s.



He yanks the unfortunate official towards him, and plants him with the God’s Wrath DDT. The boos reign down from the crowd, and Shane Mitchell cares not. He rolls out of the ring and walks straight to the back, not even looking back upon his handiwork.



JOSEPH GREER: Shane Mitchell is out of order. He lost the match because he couldn’t control himself, and now he’s attacked a defenceless official!



TOMMY ONIONS: Not ‘defenceless’. He had arms and legs. He could have fought back.



JOSEPH GREER: He’s not a trained fighter, Onions, he had no chance! Shane Mitchell will be picking up a fine for this, I’m sure. As for Kevin Rouser, well, he picks up a win. Not that I think he knows all too much about it.



Talking Heads play again, and in the ring, a cracked smile breaks out on the battered face of Kevin Rouser. He spits up a little bubble of blood, and then exclaims:-



rOUsEr: I WON! Yaaaassss….how……WONDERFUL!



TOMMY ONIONS: He does, Greer. He does.



Not for the first time tonight a medical team make their way down towards the ring to tend to a badly beaten RSW wrestler, as the show goes to commercial once more.

[vastrix]

When we return, Kevin Rouser is nowhere to be seen, and only slight traces of blood in the ring leave any clue of what just transpired.



TOMMY ONIONS: So what’s next?



JOSEPH GREER: I think we’re supposed to be going backstage to speak to Alyssa.



Alyssa is stood holding a RSW microphone as the camera goes to backstage. An RSW Banner is behind her.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Hello? Is this working? Am I live?



She looks quite vacant before realising she is live on television.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Hello RSW Fans, sorry to take you away from the action at ringside but I’ve got a guest who is not short of a few words. He wants to keep us up to date with his actions plus what the future holds for him especially as he is one of the people that is the future of this industry.



She turns around and looks off camera.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: We have with us multi-time RSW World Tag Champion and former RSW World Heavyweight Champion, Frank Windsor! He is here with some associates of his.






Finn Corbyn who is wearing some old school 3-d glasses and slurping on a big ice filled Monster, a Thai guy in an oversized white fur coat with huge sunglasses and Natalia Santiago filling the group. The Thai guy has a monkey sat on his shoulder. Stood at the front of the group in a big leopard skin fur coat is Frank himself.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Hi guys.



Frank gives her a look up and down, before giving her one of his smiles.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: ....Ok, so you asked for this time Frank. But why do you want to speak back here and not in the ring?



FRANK WINDSOR: Have you seen it out there in the ring? With those fans all chanting their weird chants? I need this time to get things off my chest about my actions of late.



ALYSSA LUCCHI: Yes?



FRANK WINSOR: First off honey I’d like to congratulate you for not sleeping with half of the roster. You sure missed a bullet there, honey, especially with that Dave guy. Some say he tries to act all manly but he protests way too much if you get what I mean.



Alyssa looks confused.



FRANK WINDSOR: Oh come on honey, get with the programme. This is about me baby, not you and your failings in life.



Frank gives her a look of disdain. Finn slurps on the drink.



Frank leans in towards her before grabbing the microphone off of her. He motions for her to get out of shot.



FRANK WINDSOR: Get your cleavage out of the way, chuck. We don’t need your tits in shot. Now where was I? Oh yeah, this is the Sultan of the Schlong Style, the King of Yorkshire, The Glorious One, the Star Child, the Master of a Million Moves, the FABULOUS ONE…………..Frank Windsor’s time.



Frank turns and looks into the camera.



FRANK WINDSOR: So I should really come to talk to you about my actions of late. I should talk to you of why I have had such a change in my outlook on life, of why I haven’t really been myself.



Finn slurps again.



FRANK WINDSOR: Did I surprise you all by my actions? I am Frank Windsor, and Anarchy is my show.



Finn laughs as he thinks of something funny.



FRANK WINDSOR: So where I start? Do I start on how I made my RSW debut in Argentina, and won the gold strap there? Well it was easy and I am the Special One. I was born to do this bitches.



Frank shrugs his shoulders.



FRANK WINDSOR: I am the biggest asset this company possesses not some two-bit Preacher like Shane Mitchell. I forgive him for failing as a human being. Well Rolf Harris has nothing on Mitchell and his Church buddies. Don’t let him tell you his stories about the Altar Boys.



Finn slurps.



FRANK WINDSOR: It’s truly depressing isn’t it Shane? With the demise of the Bastards not from an official breakdown but with Fowler having to take a real job to pay for one of his babies momma sprog which incidentally I told him to get a DNA test done as you know what those British women are like.



Finn slurps once again.



FRANK WINDSOR: And with Riot going into his whole EMO mode something had to be done. Something drastic, just ask Tommy Onions.



He shrugs his shoulders before winking at the camera.



FRANK WINDSOR: Who else here in RSW could really contend to be the Franchise of this company? Dylan? He is the most experienced wrestler in this promotion at the moment and that’s not a good thing. He’ll hit you with his goddamn Zimmer frame. Goddamn geriatric with his foul mouth, and if I wasn’t in this company I’d bet on him to be a great champion…………….NOT! He is the past especially with his ties to that weirdo, creepy guy PT Merciless. I am the present AND the future. I don’t want to let some cock like him trying to reclaim his place in the wrestling pantheon by using anyone as his way. NO WAY.



Finn leans in to shot and Frank holds the microphone up to him.



FINN CORBYN: This isn’t the 1980’s anymore. Victor Meldrew’s suing him for gimmick infringement.



Everyone laughs.



FRANK WINDSOR: Oh and I’ve got another thing to announce whilst I’m here. I could do this three ways. 1 is I could get out in the ring and after my match, 2 is I could just do it but I’m going with the 3rd way.



Frank pauses straightening his t-shirt.



FRANK WINDSOR: We may be the future of this industry for I am the Sultan of the Schlong Style, the King of Yorkshire, The Glorious One, the Star Child, the Master of a Million Moves, the FABULOUS ONE!



Frank throws the microphone done and they leave, except for Finn. He looks directly into the camera and holds up his Monster drink and takes another slurp from it before leaving.



TOMMY ONIONS: YEAH BABY!



JOSEPH GREER: He is never short of words is he?



TOMMY ONIONS: No but he is the future of RSW!

[vastrix]

A mystical swirl churns around the screen of the RioTron, changing colors and displaying various amorphic shapes as the first soft strains of the final movement of the 1812 Overture can be heard. As all this goes on on the big screen, words appear, very crisp and very straight, and go across the screen as if being typed out in real time.





WHAT ABOUT ME



WHAT ABOUT SOOTHSAYER





After a moment or two more:





YES, I'M DOING THAT





The fans all erupt in a huge chorus of booing, clearly indicating that of all the newcomers to jump into RSW as of late, the man now making his way down the aisle is decidedly among the least popular. Soothsayer strides with a dead serious look on his face as his black robe wafts by his feet, hanging open and revealing the long, black tights with orange flames he has outfitted himself with.





The jeering and calls of “ASSHOLE!” and “DICKHEAD!” and epithets of that nature resound, and even Joseph Greer and Tommy Onions look at each other, shrug, then turn toward the man in their seats and cup their hands around their mouths, booing loudly. They cease this, however, when Soothsayer reaches the end of the rampway and shoots them a low-browed look. He walks over to the announce table and glares at the two men.



SOOTHSAYER: Why don't you two, for once, just kind of shut the fuck up?



With that, he grabs both of their headsets at the same time, and yanks them off, the men's heads jerking forward for a second. Soothsayer takes the headsets into the ring, where he drops one to the mat, and puts the other on. The cord dangles by his side as he paces around the ring for a few. A mic is given to him, and he sighs into it.



SOOTHSAYER: I've come to notice this place has a tendency to drive one a bit crazy.



The boos continue.



SOOTHSAYER: We are gathered here today to hear my latest announcement. Hence, I'm sure, the impassioned reaction to my appearance. I realize, just as you do, that you aren't here tonight to see the seven-foot mound of mediocrity who calls himself your World Champion. Nor were you chomping at the proverbial bit to view the clusterfuck of fools scratching and clawing for a relatively meaningless title that will be your Main Event. No. You came here for one reason, and one reason only. To hear the singsong strains of my voice, and the answer from which to the burning question...the question that has burned in your North African innards for weeks...



(He stops pacing, turns to the camera) Whom shall I choose to be my tag team partner? (Resumes his pacing, still wearing Greer's headset)



SOOTHSAYER: Now, before I get to that, I'm going to allow the tension to build a bit more, and mention a couple of things. The first thing is the level of the typical Riot Star Wrestling fan's stunning ignorance. See, I get that we inhabit a sad world where the majority of the people---like my so-called opponent this evening---are nothing more than comatose sheep. You fail to recognize your own enslavement, you fail to recognize the slow destruction of the world around you for profit and gain---none of it your own---and worst of all, you fail to recognize the greatest professional wrestler in the entire sordid history of the sport when he waltzes into the company you tune into every week, whips out his dick, and says 'Hello.'



He shakes his head, and takes the headset off, letting it drop, forgotten.



SOOTHSAYER: Now, this begs the existential question. (He looks around, up toward the rafters) What about me? What about Soothsayer?



He starts pacing again.



SOOTHSAYER: Now, we all know that Isaiah Zepp, that misguided activist, is going to be embarrassed tonight. We all know he's going to choke on the vomit he calls a belief system outside the ring, and inside the ring---tonight!---he's going to choke on my fist. Tell me, Isaiah, what makes you believe you have the heart or the mindset to take down the man who squashed six other bozos at the Masquerade Brawl? Hm? Okay, granted, it was six bozos. Six weak fools. You don't quite fall into that category, do you? And you think you have the moxie to hold on to that Legacy Championship. There must be a reason the management decided against you putting that title on the line against me. Perhaps they grudgingly recognize what the fans here evidently do not---that I am the world's greatest competitor. Perhaps they don't wish to see you lose the strap in front of your African brethren, here.



This earns a renewed vigor in the level of hatred coming from the audience, and calls of “RACIST!” can be heard here and there. Soothsayer shakes his head and waves this away.



SOOTHSAYER: All I can say is that tonight, my painfully wrongheaded friend, you are going to sleep. The Sleep of Ignorance. Now, before my announcement that the world has awaited with baited breath, I want to say one thing more. Zoom that camera in to my face---NOW.



The camera zooms in, his hard eyes looking into it.



SOOTHSAYER: Armand Von Krauss. I have had no interactions with you so far. Do keep it that way. I do not care for you. The stink of corruption and abuse of power is all over you. And you have very poor taste. If you're wise at all, you will give me a wide berth.



He puts a palm out, signaling for the camera's focus to return to its previous state, which it does.



SOOTHSAYER: And now---the moment you have all been chewing your nails over. Who will he pick to be his new tag team partner? Who will he pick to slap that Havok numbskull and the man who's named himself after the worst kind of emo teen poetry down into the dirt? Or, sand, if that gives you Egyptians a better visual. WHO WILL BE...THE NEXT MEMBER OF THE ENLIGHTENED?? A MAN WHO HAS ENDURED THE RIGORS OF THIS CORRUPT, SHALLOW FEDERATION FROM ITS VERY BEGINNINGS! A MAN WHO HAS TAKEN THE FLOTSAM AND JETSAM OF THIS PLACE AND TURNED MANY OF THEM INTO CHAMPIONS AND WINNERS! A MAN WHO HAS COME TO SEE THE LIGHT, AND EMBRACES THE DARK REALITY THAT IS...OUR...WORLD! LADIES AND JUNGLEMEN...I GIVE YOU (Pointing toward the back) THE ONE! THE ONLY! SHAAAAANE...MITCHELL!!!!





Shane Mitchell is already stood at the top of the entrance ramp, unnoticed until now. He stands with an air of arrogance and superiority, smirking at the bitter crescendo of boos that he’s greeted by. He's a changed man, that much is obvious from his posturing and association with the Soothsayer. Fans that had forgiven him and taken him to their hearts feel betrayed and they are certainly letting him know their disapproval.



Shane is dressed plainly. No cassock or collar just simple black wrestling tights and a white t-shirt.



Shane makes his way to the ring with a swagger accompanied by new entrance music ‘Fools Gold’ by The Stone Roses. He walks slowly, amused by the abuse he's receiving and in no rush to quiet them. Eventually he does reach the ring. He walks up the steps, ducks under the top rope and joins his new ally in the centre of the ring. The two men formally shake hands as though entering a business deal.



Shane pauses as he looks out at the capacity Egyptian crowd and sneers in contempt.



SHANE MITCHELL: Two thousand years ago you people would have been slaves. The rich and privileged would have used you however they saw fit from building opulent monuments to common drudgery around the home. House slaves, sex slaves, even honey slaves to be smeared in honey and stood in the corner of the room to attract the flies so they didn't bother the privileged.



Shane looks around and shakes his head



SHANE MITCHELL: Things haven't really changed much have they. You people toil in meaningless jobs for a pittance to barely feed your families while the wealthy continue to get ever richer off the back your hard labours. It's not vastly different anywhere else in the word either. The people work, the privileged continue to reap the rewards. Corruption and deceit run amok in this fucked up society man has created.



Shane sighs.



SHANE MITCHELL: Come to think of it we see very much the same thing right here in Riot Star Wrestling. Corruption and greed everywhere. How else can one explain the exceedingly wealthy Dylan Erickson becoming the Riot Star Wrestling Champion? Talent, I don't think so. No, this can only be another example of Armand Von Krauss’ corrupt running of this once great federation. When Rob Riot ran this federation we saw champions like Morcant Davis, Shane Mitchell, even though it sticks in my throat to say it PT MERCILESS. These were champions that could truly claim to be the elite of the elite. Champions for RSW to be proud of. Men who toiled for their position with hard work and dedication. But what do we have now under the corrupt regime of Armand Von Krauss?



Shane shakes his head in clear dismay.



SHANE MITCHELL: Representing what is meant to be the best of the best is Dylan Erickson. Seriously, Dylan Erickson. How typical it is of modern society that a hard working, talented and skilled competitor like Morcant Davis finds himself on the scrap heap, forgotten and discarded like a used stick of gum, while Dylan Erickson is placed at the pinnacle. Corruption is rife. With Armand Von Krauss at the head of the company I can only assume a rather large briefcase full of cash found its way conveniently delivered from the Oceanic.



A projectile sandal flies by Shane's head narrowly missing his smug features.



SHANE MITCHELL: Armand Von Krauss. You dare to try and bribe me with three wishes? Do I seem to you the kind of corner cutting, weak and mediocre talent that needs to cheat his way to the top with wishes? Do I look like Nocturnal? I don't need your corruption and underhand tactics to prosper. I don't need to bow and scrape to a man who doesn't have the balls to do his own dirty work. You can't handle Chris Parsons on your own? Of course you can't. When have you ever got your own hands dirty and not sent one of your overzealous thugs out to throw their weight around. Your whore of a wife has bigger cahoonas than you! So, in case I’m not making myself absolutely clear here Von Krauss, you can stick your wishes up your filthy corrupt ass!



Shane looks over towards the Soothsayer.



SHANE MITCHELL: I don’t need you Armand. My partner and I will take your federation’s Tag Team titles with all the ease of removing candy from a baby. The Soothsayer and I will put an end to the joke that has been the reign of Eddie Havok and his new rent-a-joke partner Black Ice. A reign that has seen how many defences exactly? None, not one miserly defence of those belts since winning them at Anarchristmas. What kind of champions are you that hide behind your titles with a refusal to put them on the line. Havok and Gibson are an embarrassment to this federation and it’s about time someone put a stop to it. Will they have the bollocks to put their titles on the line at Anarchy 37? I doubt it but maybe they’ll surprise us all.



Mitchell takes a deep breath. He seems content, happy in himself and more relaxed than we’ve seen him in quite some time.



SHANE MITCHELL: I can see the truth. I can see through the smoke and mirrors that try to deceive. My partner has helped me accept the truth that I was reluctant to see even when it was staring me in the face. We are sick to the back teeth of maintaining the status quo and not rocking the boat. We know better than all of you. We know more than all of you. Because we ladies and gentlemen are...THE ENLIGHTENED!!!



Soothsayer and Shane Mitchell pose together, as the booing intensifies.



RSW goes to commercial.

[vastrix]

RSW comes back from commercial. The boos are still ringing around the arena for the new and unHoly union of Shane Mitchell and Soothsayer. Our commentators have got their equipment back during the break.



JOSEPH GREER: I just can't believe that. I can't believe that Mitchell would connect himself with Soothsayer. We'd been hearing rumours about Soothsayer getting into his head...but to actually team up with the guy?



TOMMY ONIONS: Soothsayer's a cool guy, Greer. Apart from stealing our equipment like that. But I can jive with that style, he's a man who takes what he wants. Like me with the ladies.



BOB MOONEY: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Featuring first the challenger...Eoin O’Rourke!



Eoin O’Rourke bursts out from the back without his music being played, storming toward the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: He looks angry.



JOSEPH GREER: You would be angry to if you have no word on your wife’s condition from the hospital and have been forbid to go to her.



TOMMY ONIONS: I don’t have one of those. Just a few exes.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent...Ruby Walsh!



“Goliath” by Karnivool begins playing as the Devoted begin to stream out from the back with Ruby Walsh in the middle of the group. They make their way down to the ring as the crowd boos at them.



That is until Ruby stops to look at an especially loud fan by the security railing with a curious tilt to her head. The Devoted stop and stare at the man as well. He goes pale and sits himself back down in his seat.



TOMMY ONIONS: I wish my mischievous minx would look at me like that.



JOSEPH GREER: Like she’s going to gut you like a fish?



TOMMY ONIONS: You say murder, I say foreplay. Who says that the two cannot be mutually exclusive?



JOSEPH GREER: Ummm ok.



Ruby Walsh makes the rest of the way to the ring without incident, stepping into the ring as the Devoted open the ropes for her.



Eoin rushes across the ring to smash into the Devoted holding open the ropes to send them back at the others. He stuns Ruby with a blow to the head hard enough to jar the mask and then whips her around for a powerslam!



Eoin kneels up, smashing Ruby back down with a series of double axe handle blows. Several of the Devoted jump onto the ring apron, but everything in the ring stops as “Circus Apocalypse” by Vermillion Lies begins playing.





TOMMY ONIONS: The heck?



JOSEPH GREER: The boss has something to say.



Smoke trails from behind the curtain to announce the arrival of Armand von Krauss before he even steps out from behind the curtain. He steps out with a smile, Egyptian cigarette in hand.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: I want to see how O’Rourke handles this without you little people involved in the match. I think it’s time for you to exit the ring.



The Devoted don’t look like they’re going anyplace until the Patchwork Butcher appears behind him. He raises his eyebrows as he takes another drag from the cigarette.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: My Butcher will be forced to say “please” if you do not head for the back at once.



The Devoted take one look at the Patchwork Butcher and immediately make their way to the back. Eoin stands in the ring while looking on in wary confusion.



ARMAND VON KRAUSS: I do this not for you, but for the fans who want to see a fair contest in the competing ring.



Ruby Walsh stands up and adjusts her mask, looking at Eoin curiously.



RUBY WALSH: Why is he angry so? He is so red. So so red.



Eoin hits a mighty clothesline, sending Ruby to the mat with authority. He screams something to her, but it comes out as near gibberish.



TOMMY ONIONS: Did he just say something about Ruby’s mom?



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think so?



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh good. I would hate for my mörderische Jungfrau to have her poor mummy insulted.



JOSEPH GREER: What?



TOMMY ONIONS: Murderous maiden in German.



JOSEPH GREER: You speak German now?



TOMMY ONIONS: When I was young, German porn was all you got on cable. You picked it up fast.



Eoin rips Ruby off of the mat, clutching her by the shoulders, and hitting a mighty headbutt that cracks the mask. He follows this up with a knee to the gut and a gutwrench power bomb that lays Ruby flat on the mat. He goes for the quick cover.

One





Two





Thr-Ruby kicks out!



Eoin kneels up, grabs Ruby by the hair, and uses the hair as a handle to bash the back of her head against the mat. He gets a few blows in before the ref comes to yell at him to release her hair.



He releases her hair, stands up, and grabs her by both ankles to do a giant swing to send her into a corner where Ruby’s shoulder strikes the ring post. He follows her to bend her backwards at the waist to tie up her ankles at the top rope.



TOMMY ONIONS: That looks like an easy access move.



JOSEPH GREER: Easy access to what? Oh gawd, you are such a pervert!



Eoin backs up across the ring and begins running to aim a drop kick, but the ref steps into the way to force Eoin to put on the brakes.



TOMMY ONIONS: Glad that happened. My ubiystvennaya deva did not need to be drop kicked in the cooter.



JOSEPH GREER: And what language is murderous maiden in now?



TOMMY ONIONS: Russian. I learnt a lot when I was in prison.



JOSEPH GREER: I don't want to know.



The ref helps untangle Ruby from the corner just in time for Eoin to slip by and grab her. He hits a running neckbreaker to the middle of the ring and ties her up into an Octopus stretch!



JOSEPH GREER: She does know that she’s in a painful submission move? Ruby seems so serene right now.



TOMMY ONIONS: Maybe Eoin just didn’t apply the move right. It’s hard to tell if she’s in pain with the mask anyway.



The ref checks to see if she will submit and is turned down with a shake of the head. Eoin breaks the hold and hits an evenflow ddt before going for the cover.



One





Two





Three!



DING DING DING!



EOIN O'ROURKE WINS!



JOSEPH GREER: Eoin honoring his wife by using the Affliction to finish Ruby off.



TOMMY ONIONS: My poor Satsujin musume. Japanese.



JOSEPH GREER: I don't want to know why you know that.



The crowd pops big for the result, which has to be considered an upset, but Eoin is in no mood for celebrating, rolling out of the ring and heading to the back before Bob Nooney can even get up and call the result.



JOSEPH GREER: A devoted husband, you have to believe Eoin is headed to the hospital to find out the latest on his wife.



TOMMY ONIONS: When he could stay here and take his pick of any of these adoring Arabic women. Or Ruby. He beat Ruby, so now he owns her by conquest. That's right, isn't it?



JOSEPH GREER: No, Tommy, that isn't right. Some men have a concept of honour, and it would seen Eoin's one of them. We wish him luck.



Eoin O’Rourke heads to the back as the Devoted stream by to get to their savior, being careful to give O'Rourke a wide berth.