Riot's Rules Results

[vastrix]

July 16th, 2018, LIVE from Cape Town, South Africa.



The RSW Logo fills the screen. Slowly, images start to bleed through; Red swirls, white, black dots…..As more and more of the image bleeds through the logo the screen pans up at Rob Riot standing in the desert. An old sign swings in the desert wind above him, its states “RSW’s presents Riot Rules” on it in



flaky



paint.



A camera flies around the building, passed the stage; to the announce table eventually to the wrestling ring. It is surrounded by a mass of human debauchery; Piercing, tattoos, mingling with the weirdest fashions as they gather behind the barriers. The whole place is like a flaming mosh pit – bodies walk across heads of people while others get tossed and thrown. This crowd is determined to be a part of history. The lights go out.



Spotlights cut through the murky darkness of the room while generic dance music blares around it. The sound of the crowd, barely visible in the darkness, is a rumble in the darkness, not unlike the sound of an enraged animal.



They are cheering on Riot Star Wrestling’s Riot Rules pay per view.



Quick cuts of various wrestlers from around the world flash onto the big screen. It’s a spectacle, and we see bits and snippets of it all, the finishers, the blows, the bloodshed, the brutality. The picture bleeds red until we see RSW’s World Heavyweight Championship belt.



VOICE: Dreams have to begin somewhere so why not tonight?



Two wrestlers face off in the ring. The first one is slamming the other in the head over and over, with the second blow, blood starts to spray, but the first fighter doesn’t stop hitting,



crazed



look is in his eye, as the referee jumps in to stop him.



VOICE: One man has been



prophesised



as the future of the business. Whilst the other needs to prove himself to be more than a paper champion.



Shots of other wrestlers flash on the screen until it



stop



on another, going through a beautiful Tai Chi form. It is very peaceful and graceful. The form ends with a palm strike towards the screen, blacking it out. The ring lights up in a huge blood-red light.



VOICE: Welcome to Riot Star Wrestling.



The camera pans to the ringside where we see Joseph Greer dressed in his suit and his broadcast partner Tommy Onions dressed in a



colourful



t-shirt with a picture of Frank Windsor on it and jeans.



JOSEPH GREER: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our first show from none other than South Africa. Glad to see you have joined us, and hope you’ll enjoy yourselves here.



TOMMY ONIONS: Most definitely. We’ve got some amazing matches tonight.



JOSEPH GREER: Eddie Havok’s got a lot to do tonight, don’t you think so Tommy?



TOMMY ONIONS: Yes, he’s got a lot to live up tonight.



JOSEPH GREER: Havok’s got a mountain to climb.



TOMMY ONIONS: Literally in the Champ.



JOSEPH GREER: Ladies and gentlemen also don’t forget about the RSW Anarchy Championship match too.



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh Rouser’s got stuff to do tonight.



JOSEPH GREER: That



Riddik



is bringing the gold home tonight.



TOMMY ONIONS: Don’t forget D and Rob Riot in what some are saying could be



match



of the year for the RSW Anarchy Championship.



JOSEPH GREER: That could definitely be



match



of the year in my opinion.



TOMMY ONIONS: Anyway, let’s get started. It’s going to be a great show.



JOSEPH GREER: I agree with you for once.

[vastrix]

Cutting backstage, we’re met with the view of the Snow Twins, Andi and Adriana, as they make their way into the arena. Andi is dressed in a pair of faded blue cut-off mini shorts, white tennis shoes, and a white tank top tied up around her abdomen; Her long brown hair up in a high ponytail. A baby blue gym bag hang off of her shoulder. Adriana is outfitted in a simple white summer dress that ends modestly around her knees, and a pair of white high heeled sandals with corked platform wedges. The two are in the middle of a playful conversation, laughing and giggling presumably at inside jokes when they are suddenly approached by Cherry Merciless, microphone in hand.



CHERRY MERCILESS: Andi Snow, just the girl I wanted to see!



Andi looks to her sister with a puzzled expression. Adriana just shrugs before And turns her attention back to Cherry.



ANDI SNOW: Um…Hi….is there something you needed?



CHERRY MERCILESS: Only an exclusive with RSW’s newest Sex Symbol!



ANDI SNOW: Excuse me?



CHERRY MERCILESS: Oh come on…We haven’t seen anyone this salacious since the infamous Jessica King and, after your first two matches here in RSW, the question on everybody lips is…can we expect some more topless action tonight? This time maybe without the sports bra?



Adriana tilts the microphone toward her, stepping up in defense of her sister.



ADRIANA SNOW: Stormi Daniels… I would expect this kind of moronic line of questioning from one of the guys but I honestly would have expected more from you.



ANDI SNOW: No…its OK, Adriana…I got this. (Andi then shifts Cherry’s microphone toward herself.) …You know…I’ve been trying to make a name here in Riot Star Wrestling by proving myself to be a worthy athlete. Apparently, all anyone cares about though, are my tits! So fine…If you can’t beat em, you might as well join them. If that’s what you people want…your wish is my command.



The crowd can be heard cheering in the background. Cherry has a giddy look on her face.



CHERRY MERCILESS: So does this mean we can expect some more skin tonight during your match?



Andi steps up close to Cherry, their faces now mere centimeters apart.



ANDI SNOW: Lets just say…that Jessica chick ain’t got nothin’ on me…



Andi smirks, before turning to her sister and nodding her head in the direction they were walking before. The two sisters then brush past Cherry who has a wicked smile on her face. The camera closes in on her expression before the scene fades to black.

[vastrix]

TOMMY ONIONS: Now this is going to be interesting. Do you think the President will turn up?



JOSEPH GREER: What? Do you really think the President of the United States of America would turn up at a wrestling promotions pay per view?



TOMMY ONIONS: You never know when it comes to Trump.



JOSEPH GREER: He’s got more pressing things with Europe and Russia at the moment so if he turns up here in South Africa I’d be very surprised.



Cameras pan around the sea of anxious people who are cheering loudly at the showing of respect towards Riot Star Wrestling. 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, it was eerily evident that this wouldn’t be a time for celebration. Outraged and appalled, the almost speechless fans erupted in boos all at once.



TOMMY ONIONS: Boooooo!!!



The fans began booing nearly to the point of an inverted standing ovation. The noise from the fans was deafening with the ferocity of the boos. The roving arm of the cameras picked out people in the crowd. As they realized there on the screen they held 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.



Standing there is Akeed ibn Umar al-Hayba in his wrestling garb. To his left stood Abdul bin Hussain also dressed in traditional Arab clothes. Behind them is stood Abdul’s sister Nazirah. Nazirah is dressed in the traditional Burqa. They look about themselves at the crowds who are booing really loudly.



TOMMY ONIONS: This is actually surprising as these guys have been cheered thus far in RSW.



JOSEPH GREER: Well we have been in Muslim countries until now.



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



TOMMY ONIONS: Booooo!!



JOSEPH GREER: What a surprise? The people booing Abdul Bin Hussain?



TOMMY ONIONS: I notice the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but other than him being from Iraq they’ve got nothing against him, because he is a great athlete……..Except he’s a disrespectful asshole.



Nazirah leans over the ropes and grabs a microphone off of one of the ring crew. She returns to the centre of the ring tapping the microphone making sure it is working. She passes it to her brother. He looks around the ring awaiting the people to be quiet so he can talk. He looks at ring announcer who has a look of disdain on his shocked face.



The boos slowly quiet down after a while. Abdul can’t believe the reaction that he is getting. He brings the microphone up.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: We should have expected this reception from you………



The boos erupt again.



Laughing Abdul walks around the ring, soaking up the response from the crowd.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Just because my student is the pride of our Nation you people think it is good to boo him? He is a good honourable man unlike the politicians around the world.



The boos are louder than ever.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Oh how original of you. You sit there on your obese asses booing the greatest prospect this company…….NO!!! This Country has ever seen.



You disrespect him?



You disrespect Muslims?



You disrespect the Arab nation? What is it with you people? Are you so scared of people that are different from yourselves? Are you so afraid of change? Is that why you couldn’t let the Negros have their freedom?



Well let me point it out to you. He is the real thing.



Abdul is smiling. He looks around and motions to Akeed who is just standing still in one of the corners menacingly.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: This man is the whole package. And that is why he is here in the RSW.



He laughs as he walks around the ring.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Why would Akeed come out at this show? Why would I bring him to the RSW when people from the Arab Nations like him are accused of an act of terrorism? You forget one thing, he is from Somalia, and he has had to survive in a war zone, whilst you Africans have had it quite easy.



The crowd boos even louder.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: If he could fight his way around a war torn Somalia, he can hold his own in this company……..Why do I keep saying that? It is another reason why this company is holding people like Akeed down. It is an outrage. It is disgusting, and you should all be ashamed of being a part of what some say is one of the most civilized country in the world. You are not us.



The crowds cheer.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Why do you cheer? Are you so naive? Are you so stupid? Look at this guy.



He points at a man in the crowd. He is your typical South African man, t-shirt, baseball cap, beer belly and all the rest of it.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: If he is your typical South African native then this place is really gone down the drain. He’s probably come here with his prostitute of a girlfriend who was pregnant by the time she was sixteen. Am I right? He should be ashamed at how he’s let himself go. But looking at him, he doesn’t look out of place with the rest of you bunch of…………….



He looks directly down the camera lens.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: INFIDELS!!!!!!!!



He looks around the arena awaiting the people to be quiet so he can talk.



TOMMY ONIONS: This guy deserves everything coming to him.



JOSEPH GREER: What do you know?



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: How can anyone take you serious in this country of yours?



A chant of “Abdul Sucks” goes around the arena.



Abdul sadistically smiles as he walks around the ring for a few seconds before smiling.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: So people are wondering why we would call out Donald Trump. I have come to this pathetic excuse of a wrestling promotion and decided that it needed a statement. And calling out the biggest racist infidel was that a statement. A statement of what is to come for the RSW.



Abdul smirks.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: You see this is typical of that racist son of a donkey; he thinks that he is the guardian of the rest of the world along with the United States of Mediocre. But no, the rest of the world is beginning to work it out what you are all about. Can you hear that?



He holds his left hand up to his left ear.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Can you hear it? It is the rest of the world waking up to the hypocrisy of Donald Trump. You think you are better than everybody and that anyone that will not accept it will be trampled under your mighty feet. We will not stand for it anymore. We will not let you dominate us anymore. But you are not worthy to be spoken about as we know you will not accept our challenge.



A sly smile crosses his face for a second as the boos try to drown him out.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Trump is too busy destroying all relationships that his country has had with the outside world in the last one hundred years. The funny thing is once you are gone from power the guy that follows you will constantly be asking for forgiveness and be begging to be let back into the big boys clubs. Hell, the next President may be Muslim so that would be interesting. He shakes his head and scratches his beard. He touches the scars on his upper torso.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: We’ve been keeping an eye on Social Media especially your Twitter account Trump. Come on, we see you insulting most of the countries in Europe whilst defending your Russian masters like the lap dog you are. We know you won’t have the bottle to face my charge tonight. He cocks his head to the side, and then tilts it backwards before looking at the camera.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: And with RSW locker room we tried to get the respect that we deserve and what did we get? We got people calling us camel jockey, towel head or porch monkey, people insulting my sister because she wears a burqa; I got insulted at the airport. I will make you respect me.



He walks over to his sister and nods.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: So we will finish this unless you have anything to say?



He cocks his head to the side and listens.



The lights in the arena go off. A few spot lights appear on the ramp way and what look like American secret service personal come out and position themselves either side of the ramp way.



JOSEPH GREER: What the hell? He can’t be here?



TOMMY ONIONS: It is……He is here.



Rick Derringer’s “Real American” starts blaring out around the arena and he comes through the curtains. He stands there in his grey suit and red tie. He starts posing in time to the music, flexing to the notes.



TOMMY ONIONS: OH MY GOD!



JOSEPH GREER: How can it be possible? How is this freaking possible?



TOMMY ONIONS: Look at that hair and tell me that it’s not possible.



Halfway down the ramp way, Trump pauses and rips off his suit top and shirt.



TOMMY ONIONS: Now that’s a bit familiar.



Trump stomps up the ring steps and stop halfway up them out of breath before he gets in the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Wait, the sons of bitches!



TOMMY ONIONS: What?



JOSEPH GREER: Can’t you tell, that’s not President Trump.



TOMMY ONIONS: Yes it is, can’t you tell from the hair and his orange tan?



JOSEPH GREER: No it’s not, that that fat bastard Rafiq with a bad fake tan and horrible wig.



Abdul stomps to the centre of the ring as Rafiq trips over and lands at his feet. Abdul puts one foot on Rafiq and raises his arms. The crowds boo so loud.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: For there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his messenger. And I am Mohammed’s messenger to you.



He turns and looks deep in the camera.



ABDUL BIN HUSSAIN: Allah Akbar!



TOMMY ONIONS: Ladies, gentlemen and those that have yet to decide, mark this time, remember where you were when you switch on your laptops, get onto your face book, twitter or whatever social network you are on and say that you saw when Abdul bin Hussain and his Arab Nation went too far.



JOSEPH GREER: I know; how can he insult America?



TOMMY ONIONS: I know right. Will Abdul be scolded for this or will the management fold to his will?

[vastrix]

JOSEPH GREER: I’m…still without words after what we just saw.



TOMMY ONIONS: No words an’ no brains, bitch. Fear not, Greer. Next segfeaturin’ a homeboy who speak truth an’ speak enough fo’ both of us, and for that, my ass be givin’ a grand salute, know what I’m sayin? Ladies and gentlemen…DA SOOOOTHSAYERRRR!!!



JOSEPH GREER: Hopefully he behaves himself this time. I’m surprised RSW management still allows him to pick up a microphone.



TOMMY ONIONS: It’s all in da contract, G. Rasslas gots to have time on da mic, yo.



JOSEPH GREER: What’s the matter with you all of a sudden? Did you bump your head or something?



TOMMY ONIONS: Aight, aight, don’ be disrespectin’ me, G-Clef. I figga since we in Africa, betta start inflectin’ proppa, dawg, know what I’m sayin?



JOSEPH GREER: These people don’t talk that way, you nimrod! That’s American street lingo. Stop being a dunderhead.



TOMMY ONIONS: I ain’t no dunda-head, I’m unda yo mama’s bed—boyeeee.



JOSEPH GREER: Jesus Christ.



The 1812 Overture fires up here at this year’s Riot’s Rules, and the lights in the arena flash and sparkle as one half of the RSW Tag Team Champions emerges from the back, glittering satin robe colored sweet and neat with blue and gold. The Soothsayer raises his arms and smiles, standing there, as pyros fire off and the music fills the arena. Stepping from the back just behind him is Nightvasio, her face painted in skull makeup but her body adorned in a glitter-ridden dress of her own, red and skimpy. One slit rides high up one thigh, and her heels are high enough to be considered stilts. The woman carries a rolled up something or other, and it’s rather large.



Soothsayer strokes his beard and smiles and begins his stride down the rampway, his robe flowing behind him. He reaches the ring, holds the ropes open for his radiant-looking sister, and steps inside, himself. After a few minutes of strutting around and stroking his beard thoughtfully, he finally speaks into the mic.



SOOTHSAYER: What about me?



The crowd boos reflexively.



SOOTHSAYER: What about Soothsayer?



CROWD: BOOOOO!!!



SOOTHSAYER: Folks, I have been denied! Denied my rightful place as the next Legacy Champion. You believe that? Such utter disrespect for one of The Enlightened by management. It simply boggles the mind. How transparent their fear! How obvious the prejudice! How two-faced the double-dealings! And what of the Champion, himself? Did Rouser’s fear of the Enlightened play a part in this? Rob Riot, a message to you. You can deny Shane Mitchell and myself title shots all the live-long day, but it is but a matter of time before The Enlightened dominate this sad place utterly.



Now, on to other matters. Cape Town. South Africa. Shame. Shame, shame, shame. A shameful history, one of the most appalling in all of Africa. Decades of apartheid. Decades of minority rule by a rich, white oligarchy. Decades of racism. Decades of Nelson Mandela rotting in a cage. It sickens me to stand here, to be anywhere in this fraudulent country! Sickens the both of us!



The crowd stirs, many getting to their feet, the black people who make up the majority now calling out cheers of agreement, while the white minority that makes up the first several rows looking very uncomfortable, and some standing and glaring in anger.



SOOTHSAYER: Nightvasio, unfurl the flag.



JOSEPH GREER: Oh, no. No, no, no…



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh boyeeee, shit getting’ REAL up in DIS house!



Nightvasio stands in the center of the ring and removes a tie from the long piece of cloth she’s been holding. A very large flag—about two meters in length—drops down. She places it on a stand that’s been put in the ring for this segment, and the national flag of South Africa now consumes a good portion of the middle of the ring.



SOOTHSAYER: We, The Enlightened, do resent being forced to compete on tainted soil such as this! We, The Enlightened, raise our fists in protest! On behalf of all those who have suffered, been relocated, imprisoned, and killed by the corrupt regime of old. Even now, the end of apartheid and the so-called equality that exists is but a sham. It exists on paper only. Look at these rich, white bastards that have all the good seats. Even now, there is harsh and repulsive inequality here. And so, we show protest for this, here at Riot’s Rules, the best way we know how. We burn the flag!



Nightvasio pours gasoline all down the front of the South African symbol, and then takes a lighting stick from between her breasts, reaching down the front of her dress, and hands it to Soothsayer. The man kisses the end of it, raises his eyebrows twice, and holds the lighter to the bottom left corner of the flag.



SOOTHSAYER: And away we go.



Security is already on its way down the aisle, a combination of armed South African men and RSW Security personnel, including Big Ass Hank, who leads the charge. Hank appears ready to chew Soothsayer like a dog chews a rubber bone.



The fire turns to a blaze quickly, thanks to the gasoline, and now an inferno consumes the middle of the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: My GOD. He’s gone too far with this one.



TOMMY ONIONS: DAYUUUMMM!!! Look at dat sheeeit.



The bulk of the white folks around the ring and even many of the blacks behind now begin calling for the robed man’s head, as national flags tend to take precedence over thoughts and ideas. Armed Security forces now storm the ring.



SOOTHSAYER: Yes, come one, come all! Bring it on, you brainwashed simpletons!



He tosses his head back in laughter, but it rams into the beefy fist of one Big Ass Hank. Soothsayer stumbles forward, grabs the back of his head, and turns around to find Hank taking a swing at him. He ducks this, but Hank brings a knee up and smashes his forehead, as South African and RSW Security men surround and arrest Nightvasio. Still more men climb into the ring with fire extinguishers and aim them at the blazing flag as the crowd is absolutely livid, with many storming out of the event entirely by the dozens.



Soothsayer turns and sees the men with rifles slung over their shoulders ushering his sister away roughly. His face now loses all its flippancy, and he charges toward the men. In an instant, three rifles are pointed in his face.



JOSEPH GREER: Jesus. Not good. He went a step too far this time. Most countries have laws against burning the flag.



TOMMY ONIONS: You muthafuckas let my homeboy GO! We shall ovah-COME!



JOSEPH GREER: Onions, enough!



Soothsayer is surrounded, and Big Ass Hank crosses his arms and looks very satisfied as the robed man slowly raises his hands, his eyes on his sister being led in cuffs up the rampway. He looks at Hank.



SOOTHSAYER: Try not to cum in your pants.



Hank walks up to him as the South Africans cuff him.



HANK: Listen, asshole. I told you I would see you burn. You’re a fuckin’ detriment to this company. I hope they throw you in a fuckin’ hole and leave you there.



SOOTHSAYER: You hate me that much, huh?



HANK: Does a bear shit in the fuckin’ woods? Yeah, I hate you that much.



SOOTHSAYER: Tell them to hold the mic up for me.



HANK: Not a fuckin’ chance.



SOOTHSAYER: I’m not going to say any more about South Africa. I want to speak to YOU, and I want everyone to hear it.



Hank looks at him oddly for a moment, then chuckles a little.



HANK: Sure, asshole. Whatever.



The big RSW Seucrity man has a few words with the SA Security personnel, and after a few moments of refusal, they finally agree to allow Soothsayer to speak into the mic.



SOOTHSAYER: Let the world bear witness to whatever happens to me. The exercise of free speech is alive and well in the world, obviously.



HANK: Don’t push it. Say what you wanted to say…to ME.



SOOTHSAYER: Fine. I challenge you to a match, dickhead.



Hank’s eyebrows raise, and he removes his trademark sunglasses. A smile comes over his countenance.



HANK: Say what?



SOOTHSAYER: You heard me. And let RSW management hear me. I’ll be back by Anarchy 39. And I want YOU to face me in the ring. Let’s settle this shit between us, once and for all.



Hank slowly moves his head left to right, looking at the Enlightened one as if he’s short several critical screws. But after looking into the man’s dead-serious face, his head changes its course, and he nods.



HANK: All right…Soothsayer. You’re on. We’ll sign a contract, and if you ain’t rotting in a cell here by then, I’ll see your ass in the ring at Anarchy 39.



SOOTHSAYER: Sounds peachy.



The robed man kisses Hank through the air, and the mic is taken away. Cuffed and roughed, Soothsayer is ushered up the aisle as the roof is nearly booed off the building. The flag is now a blackened mess, smoking and ashen. Security men crowd the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Well, it looks like the dynamic for the Tag Team Championship match is changed yet again. One burned flag later.



TOMMY ONIONS: Fuggit, G. I’ll partner up wid dat Shayun muthafu—OWW!!



Joseph Greer retracts the hand just used to slap Onions very hard.

[vastrix]

BOB MOONEY: This next match is to be determined by a spin of the wheel! Featuring first the challenger…Hijinx!



“I’m an Albatraoz” by Aronchupa begins playing as Hijinx steps out from the back to a mixed reaction from the crowd, though there seems to be more cheering than booing. None of this seems to faze her as she walks down to the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: You see the look in her eyes? Like she can stare straight through you…to see me!



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t even understand what that was supposed to mean beyond some kind of insult.



TOMMY ONIONS: This Hijinx is hot shit!



JOSEPH GREER: She doesn’t want any Onions Sauce.



TOMMY ONIONS: Are you sure?



BOB MOONEY: And her opponent…Andi Snow!



“No Tears Left to Cry” by Ariana Grande plays to bring Andi Snow out from the back. She smiles and waves at cheering fans. They begin going crazy when they see Andi Snow’s new shirt.



TOMMY ONIONS: That shirt has a pair of bewbs on it! That’s like a total rip off!



JOSEPH GREER: It’s like she’s making fun of herself for losing her top!



Andi stands at the entrance stage, reaching down for the hem of her shirt, and driving the male fans nuts with excitement.



TOMMY ONIONS: Yes! She’s gonna take it off!



JOSEPH GREER: I think that’s in poor taste. She shouldn’t!



Andi pulls the shirt off to reveal her normal ring gear! The crowd erupts in a mixture of boos, cheering, and laughter at the joke. Andi starts making her way to the ring, stopping when a particularly loud fan begins yelling for her to really take off her top.



TOMMY ONIONS: Yeah! No teasing!



JOSEPH GREER: Don’t do it!



Andi begins laughing as the wife of this obnoxious fan begins beating him with her purse. She heads to the ring with a smile, rolling into the ring, and gazing toward the wheel.



BOB MOONEY: And now to determine what the match type will be, we will spin the wheel!



The timekeeper spins the wheel and the crowd goes silent as the wheel spins around and around until it stops on “Taipei Death Match”.



Inside the ring, both Hijinx and Andi Snow go nuts in anger.



JOSEPH GREER: That’s a match type that shouldn’t even be on the wheel at all. Do Armand or Riot think that this is some kind of action movie?



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s what it says. Are we going to have some crazy girl on girl bloodshed or what?



JOSEPH GREER: I just don’t think so! I will quit a job if management makes these women go through that! I said quit!



“I Feel You” by Depeche Mode begins playing and the fans cheer wildly in anticipation as Rob Riot steps out onto the entrance stage.



ROB RIOT: I still have a say in this company and it occurred to me that the fans may not want to see two lovely ladies in a death match!



JOSEPH GREER: Damn straight!



TOMMY ONIONS: I suppose I could go for a strip match.



ROB RIOT: You’re not half-wrong, Tommy. I declare this to be a taipei dessert match instead of death match!



TOMMY ONIONS: Dessert match? How interesting.



JOSEPH GREER: What the heck is that?



Rob Riot motions to the curtain as a trolley is brought down to the ring with several rolls of tape, a large bowl of warm caramel and then several bowls of different ice cream toppings like sprinkles, gummy bears, nuts, chocolate chips, and so on.



ROB RIOT: Tape up your hands, dip them into the caramel sauce, and then your favorite topping! Not quite as bloodletting, but is extra sweet! Fans? What do you think?



The fans cheer wildly at the thought of both girls getting covered in ice cream toppings.



TOMMY ONIONS: Is that any better?



JOSEPH GREER: I suppose that I won’t be quitting today.



TOMMY ONIONS: I don’t know if I should be happy or sad about that.



JOSEPH GREER: You should be happy.



Rob Riot heads to the back, the fans still cheering him on.



Hijinx and Andi each stand still as their hands are taped up before taking turns to dip them in the caramel. Hijinx dips her hands in chocolate chips while Andi goes for sprinkles.



TOMMY ONIONS: This is going to get messy.



JOSEPH GREER: Understatement of the day.



TOMMY ONIONS: I love it! This can only be improved by a tub full of boozed up jello and hardly there bikinis!



JOSEPH GREER: You are disgusting!



Hijinx and Andi get back into the ring and the bell rings to start the match. The two circle around one another, Andi looking as if she may try licking the back of her hand, but Hijinx lunges at her. Andi belts her in the side of the head, sprinkles flying all around and leaving a sprinkled caramel mark down the side of Hijinx’ face. She sneers and strikes Andi back to send chocolate chips scattering around with the impact.



Hijinx goes for a second strike, but Andi dodges the blow, steps in, and sends Hijinx for a ride with a hip toss. She follows this up with a lightning fast moonsault knee drop to the ribcage that sends the air out of Hijinx’ lungs. A quick backhand to the mouth and Andi goes for the quick pinfall, holding her hand over Hijinx’ caramel sprinkled mouth.



One



Two



Thre-Hijinx kicks out!



TOMMY ONIONS: This was almost a thirty second match! Boo!



JOSEPH GREER: This is sort of a farce of a match. It could end at anytime and I would be alright with it.



Andi kneels up, waiting for Hijinx to wipe to mess from her mouth before hitting her again. This time she rubs the back of her hand across the face of Hijinx to make sure to spread the caramel and sprinkles all around.



Hijinx rolls away as Andi gets to her feet. She waits for Hijinx to stand up before hitting her with a drop kick. Andi rushes across the ring, hitting a Lou Threz Press upon a standing Hijinx. She belts Hijinx with lefts and rights, covering Hijinx’ face and hair with toppings. The ref gets involved to get Andi to get off and Hijinx rolls to the outside to try to clear her face from the caramel sauce.



Her respite doesn’t last long as Andi slingshots over the top rope in a suicide dive that knocks Hijinx straight into the barricade. Andi jumps to her feet by the trolly and grabs the large container of molten caramel.



She motions to the fans who cheer her on as she jumps the container onto the head of Hijinx. This is followed by each of the toppings in succession as Hijinx sits up in utter shock. Andi rolls into the ring, waiting as Hijinx at least clears her eyes and follows.



Hijinx follows a running Andi into the corner where she falls prey to a springboard tornado ddt! Andi pulls her toward the center of the ring and goes for the pinfall!



One



Two



Three!



JOSEPH GREER: Andi with the Snowstorm to win the match!



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m not sure if this was a match or a prelude to a porn scene.



Andi and Hijinx slowly make their way to the back as ring hands make their way to the ring to get the mess cleaned up for the next match.



JOSEPH GREER: And lets roll videos for how the next match came about while we wait for this to get cleaned up.



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m going to head to the back for the shower scene.



JOSEPH GREER: You’ll do no such thing!

[vastrix]

Soothsayer sits with his hands cuffed behind his back, forced to lean forward a bit as three armed South African police officers stand around him. He looks up at the nearest man, a black fellow with an expression as stone-like as an Easter Island statue.



SOOTHSAYER: Umm…how about some water, there, buddy?



The man slowly turns to glare down at him in disgust.



GUARD: Shut your filth-hole, you American pig.



SOOTHSAYER: I’m actually not American anymore. I’ve declared the Camp of Enlightenment to be its own country. Does that help?



The guard frowns at him, and raises the butt of his rifle, as Soothsayer’s eyes widen. About to slam it into the man’s forehead, the guard is stopped at the last second by a superior officer, who barks something in an African tongue.



SOOTHSAYER: Whew.



A few moments later, another South African steps up to stand in front of Soothsayer. The Enlightened man looks up at him.



SOOTHSAYER: Are you from Catering, by any chance?



MAN: Someone is here to see you before you’re deported.



SOOTHSAYER: Where’s my sister?



MAN: Being deported.



SOOTHSAYER: I want to see her, goddammit!



MAN: You are in no position to make demands.



The man walks off, and Soothsayer looks in between the rows of armed men to see the door at the opposite end of the room open, and a somewhat familiar figure walks in. Rob Riot approaches Soothsayer, dressed in a suit that probably cost enough to feed a local village for a month.



SOOTHSAYER: Well, hello! Fancy meeting YOU here.



ROB RIOT: Not how I envisioned our first meeting.



SOOTHSAYER: Are you here to place a lei around my neck before I get on the helicopter?



ROB RIOT: Just shut up. And listen. Through a hell of a lot of wheeling and dealing, and some financial compensation—



SOOTHSAYER: I’m free to go?



ROB RIOT: No. You’re free to compete in the tag team match. I explained to them the “ironclad” nature of a professional wrestling contract. So, I fibbed. But they’re willing to let you wrestle. Then, you’re being deported. (He narrows his gaze at the man) I’m not sure what you were trying to prove out there, but you’re lucky they aren’t throwing you in a prison cell.



The Enlightened one smiles a little.



SOOTHSAYER: Just trying to wake the world up, Rob Riot. One country at a time.



ROB RIOT: What you’re doing is sabotaging the reputation of MY company, asshole.



SOOTHSAYER: You don’t need me for that.



ROB RIOT: Very cute. I’m going to tell you this once. Stop. Stop the crusade. When you’re performing at an RSW event, you are on MY time. MINE! Do you get that??



SOOTHSAYER: Sure. I get it. Boss.



Riot steps back and glares at him.



ROB RIOT: Good. I told them to ease up on you. Take you out of the cuffs. Don’t fucking make me regret that.



SOOTHSAYER: Where’s Karen? Tell me.



ROB RIOT: She’s being processed. She’s fine. But you won’t be flying back to the States together, I’m afraid. She’s already on her way.



Soothsayer looks at the floor.



SOOTHSAYER: Fuck. Sorry, honey.



Riot looks at him a moment more, then turns to go.



SOOTHSAYER: Riot.



Rob turns around.



SOOTHSAYER: Thanks.



ROB RIOT: Mm-hmm.



The RSW owner exits, and a few moments later, Soothsayer is stood up, his handcuffs removed.



SOOTHSAYER: Gee, thanks, guys. Hope I didn’t offend too much.



GUARD: Not at all. The mayor is considering giving you a key to the city.



SOOTHSAYER: Well, shit. I was beginning to think you had no sense of humor!

[vastrix]

BOB MOONEY: This next match is to be determined by the wheel! Featuring first the challenger…Marcus Anderson!



“Loser Like Me” by Pink begins playing as Marcus Anderson walks out to the cheering of the crowd. He takes in the cheers with an easy grin as he makes his way down to the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Why does Marcus have a black eye? Has he been in a fight?



TOMMY ONIONS: I heard he got into a scuffle with Eoin outside of the motel that they’re staying at.



JOSEPH GREER: I thought that they’re stable mates?



TOMMY ONIONS: Maybe they’re fighting over the whore?



JOSEPH GREER: Who? Your mom?



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh, you didn’t just bring in my momma into this. Yeah…she’s an old whore too.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent…Eoin O’Rourke!



The lights in the arena dim as the screens on the stage turn into static as heavy beats from “Whiskey and Ritalin” by Fair to Midland play in the arena. The lights stay the same until the drums start playing, and on the screens, Eoin O’Rourke name title appears as the lights turn into green, and orange he begins to walk onto the stage



“From hand to heart and hands to head



These gritty teeth grind gears of infrared”



O’Rourke stands at the top of the ramp and looks at the crowd left and right before exhaling and marching his way down the ramp cracking his neck



“He crash lands in dull white noise



All I hear is static in his voice”



O’Rourke makes it to ringside and cracks his knuckles looking in the ring with his emerald green eyes and walks up the steel steps but wipes his boots before entering through the second rope with his arms stretched out



“When those sweet red hands



Start their whirlwinds



And you’re the drain”



In the ring O’Rourke again cracks his neck and walks around the ring before getting on a turnbuckle looking at the audience



“You’re imagining things; Your pretend machine



Has sticks in its every spoke



You’re inventing it all; From thin air and close calls



Welcome to the balancing act



On the turnbuckle O’Rourke puts his hands together and forms an O from them and raises his arms above his head and looks up at his shape and hops off the turnbuckle and wiggles his arms to get the blood pumping through them.



JOSEPH GREER: I always wondered why he’s standing in the ring and wiggling his arms.



TOMMY ONIONS: To get the blood pumping through them? I wiggle my arms all the time for just that reason.



JOSEPH GREER: You only wiggle your arms when you’re touching yourself when a woman is in the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: And you watch?



JOSEPH GREER: No, I look away!



before the bell rings to start the match, the two go at it right with fists blazing. Marcus attempts to bridge backwards to dodge a roundhouse, except that the expected punch strikes him in the midsection instead.



JOSEPH GREER: Did we spin the wheel yet? Ring the bell?



TOMMY ONIONS: Nope. I thought that these two were friends.



At ringside, the timekeeper spins the wheel. He holds up a card, not looking at the wheel a bit of where it lands. He hands the card to Bob Mooney.



JOSEPH GREER: What’s going on?



TOMMY ONIONS: The wheel is being spun? Looks like submission match!



Eoin grabs Marcus by the head, knees him in the gut, and hits a gutwrench powerbomb!



BOB MOONEY: This match is slated to be a Texas Death Match!



JOSEPH GREER: Wait, what? The wheel came up with submission match! What was on that card?



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Armand von Krauss is behind this.



Marcus attempts to sit up, but gets booted in the face to send him back down to the mat with authority. Marcus rolls out of the ring, landing on the floor to try to gather his wits. Eoin paces in the ring, looking agitated.



TOMMY ONIONS: Eoin looks like he wants to tear Marcus up? I mean he is a bit of a snot.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t understand it a bit either.



Marcus rolls back into the ring, catching Eoin off guard with a lifting inverse sto!



JOSEPH GREER: Marcus going in for the Kill! I guess the breather did him well.



TOMMY ONIONS: I reckon so. I’m shocked.



Marcus goes for the pinfall!



One



Two



Three!



Marcus backs away as the ref begins to count Eoin out.



One



Two



Three



Four



Five



Six



Seven



Eight



Nine



Ten!



Marcus looks concerned as Eoin just lays in the middle of the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: I’m going to have the time to cut two promos this period. Not.



JOSEPH GREER: What are you talking about?



TOMMY ONIONS: Nothing.



Marcus tries to help Eoin up, but gets his hand smacked away. Marcus looks to the crowd, shamed by Eoin’s actions. He hits another lifting inverse STO before heading to the back.

[vastrix]

BOB MOONEY: This next contest will be determined by a spin of the wheel and is for the RSW World tag team championship! Featuring first the challenger…Jaguar!



“Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N Roses begins playing as Jaguar walks out from the back to the cheering of the fans. He howls to the fans and makes his way down to the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: Now who is going to be the tag team partner for Jaguar Junior? I heard the dragon dude was going to, but after what happened to him in the opening bout…



JOSEPH GREER: I heard that Rob Riot himself was going to consider coming down and helping.



TOMMY ONIONS: Armand stated if no one comes to help that Jaguar will be allowed the use of a steel chair.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think he wanted to go there.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponents, the RSW World tag team champions…the Enlightened!



The 1812 Overture begins playing, introducing Soothsayer as he comes out to stand on the entrance stage. The music quickly changes to “Fool’s Gold” by by the Stone Roses as Shane Mitchell walks out from the back. Each with their World tag team championship belt around their waists as they make their way down to the ring.



TOMMY ONIONS: I see no Omar, no Rob Riot, and no steel chair. This is going to be a massacre.



JOSEPH GREER: This shouldn’t even be a match.



TOMMY ONIONS: Right? This is going to be bloody awesome!



At ringside, the timekeeper spins the wheel. This time the wheel is loaded with a few tag team themed choices. The wheel slows down, almost landing on Texas Tornado, but clicks once over to steel cage.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t see a whole lot of difference. At least with Texas Tornado, one of the Enlightened had to stand outside of the ring. Will they even have that same rule in the steel cage or is it going to be two on one the entire time?



TOMMY ONIONS: No idea. We will just have to watch and see, yeah?



The participants in the rung look around as the steel cage is lowered down. Jaguar looks at both Shane Mitchell and Soothsayer, swallowing hard. He gets into a fighting stance, refusing to just lay down.



SHANE MITCHELL: I admire your courage, but you should just lay down and let us win this.



SOOTHSAYER: There won’t be much left of you once we get done with you. Surrender now.



Jaguar looks from one opponent to the other, realizing that neither of them are leaving the ring as the cage is lowered into place with a crash.



JAGUAR: Fuck you and your mommas!



Shane and Soothsayer begin laying into Jaguar with fists as the bell is rung kind of as an afterthought. Jaguar is knocked down to the mat and kicked until he rolls over to the ropes.



Jaguar jumps to his feet on the other side of the ropes, exchanging punches through the ropes while Shane stands back for a moment.



Soothsayer backs away, it would seem as if he were giving Jaguar a breather. This would not be the case as Mitchell steps through the ropes, busts Jaguar in the gut, and slams the side of his head into the case. He pulls back Jaguar’s head and slams it into the unyielding metal a few times before just dragging the young man’s face across the steel.



TOMMY ONIONS: Do you see the delight in Mitchell’s eyes? The absolute delight in the punishment he’s dealing out? Crazy!



JOSEPH GREER: Everything about this match is reprehensible!



TOMMY ONIONS: I love it!



Shane presses Jaguar to the ropes where Soothsayer hits a cutter to drop the young wrestler across the top rope. He bounces back off of the ropes and smashes into the cage once again.



Shane measures Jaguar, who is on his knees, hitting a punch to the side of the face that sends blood splattering away. He tosses Jaguar into the ring for Soothsayer to catch him and hit a powerslam. Soothsayer jumps up, rushes to the ropes, and hits a leg drop. Shane Mitchell steps into the ring, watching as Jaguar gets to all fours, and punt kicks him in the side of the head.



JOSEPH GREER: This is just disgusting! This isn’t a match so much as an execution!



TOMMY ONIONS: Do you see Armand even doing anything about it? He loves this just as much as I do!



Jaguar tries to get up again, but falls back to the mat. Shane pulls him up just enough to hit a double underhook ddt. Soothsayer tries to pick him up to apply his finisher, but Jaguar falls limp to the mat. So instead, Soothsayer hits an elbow drop to the back of the neck.



Shawna Savate sees Jaguar laying on the mat with a growing pool of blood by his head and just signals for the bell to be rung.



TOMMY ONIONS: Jaguar can go on. Honest!



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think so.



BOB MOONEY: Winner of the match via the discretion of the referee…the Enlightened!



The Enlightened raise their arms in victory for just a moment before they see Jaguar stirring. Shane gets him up enough for another double underhook ddt and Soothsayer helps make it a spiked ddt to the mat!



Jaguar lays on the mat, eyes rolled up into the back of his head.



TOMMY ONIONS: Jaguar just got knocked the fuck out!



JOSEPH GREER: This could have just ended Jaguar’s career before it even really got started!



Once the cage is lifted, Shane and Soothsayer gather their belts and head to the back. EMTs cross paths with them on their way to work on Jaguar.



JOSEPH GREER: The ring is going to need cleaned…again.



TOMMY ONIONS: Blood is easier to clean than caramel. Just saying.

[vastrix]

A helicopter awaits, its rotor spinning madly and loudly, cutting the air, making Soothsayer’s long, blonde hair stand out straight from the side of his head. The group of police and armed guards who have barely left his side since his arrest stand with rifles at the ready as the final few procedural steps are taken before he’s boarded.



The door to the building’s roof opens, and Shane Mitchell steps out, accompanied by two more armed men. Soothsayer looks on as his partner approaches him, the two guards in step right behind the man.



SOOTHSAYER: Howdy.



SHANE MITCHELL: You, uh, going to be all right?



SOOTHSAYER: You kidding? I’m excited. Never rode in a chopper, before.



SHANE MITCHELL: You’ll be on a plane soon enough. Better not piss them off anymore. I don’t feel like searching for a new partner from within an ever-shrinking roster.



SOOTHSAYER: No worries. Give Hank my best, if you see him.



Shane smiles.



SHANE MITCHELL: Will do.



Mitchell is then taken by the shoulders and led backward, as Soothsayer is led toward the helicopter. In minutes, he’s taken aboard, and two sentries climb in along with him. Mitchell watches as the vehicle takes flight, and raises itself into the clouds over Cape Town.

[vastrix]

TOMMY ONIONS: So it seems this match is being contended under the TLC rules Joseph?



JOSEPH GREER: I know. This will be fun. When this crazy old timer is stomped by the other Viking.



TOMMY ONIONS: Other Viking?



JOSEPH GREER: Well he ain’t no Ragnar is he?



BOB MOONEY: The challenger for the RSW Legacy Champion, Dagvald Riddik!



As the slashing sound of cymbals slice their way through the arena, they herald the piercing eruption of thunder which strikes the stage, causing the lights to flicker for a brief moment. When all is clear and the guitars of “Pagan Anthem In Horror” by Bloodhorse begins throbbing throughout the venue, one man stands at the epicentre of the physical embodiment of a god’s wrath. Cloaked from head to toe in traditional Viking battle armour, wielding a bloody battle axe and self-forged iron shield, he stares imposingly straight at the ring as the music picks up.



JOSEPH GREER: OH!



On the RioTron, the lyrics to the song are superimposed in fractured fonts over paintings and scribes of Viking victories in the days of glory. The invasion of England… I AM OF THE EARTH. The discovery of Vinland… AND I FEEL THE SKY. Raids deep into modern day Russia… ONCE ACCEPTED YOUR GODS. Clashes with the crusading Catholics from Saxony… AND I DON’T KNOW WHY.



Dagvald marches in lockstep, shield and battle axe held ready to eviscerate all who would stand before him. Now, computer-animated worlds of destruction showing the fate which awaits all civilization are flashing on the RioTrion. The fallen steel skeleton of the Eiffel Tower… MAN NOT MOUNTAIN WILL FALL. The overgrown carcass of 10 Downing Street… THIS DARKNESS FEEDS THE LIGHT. The burning ruins of the Reichstag… IT DON’T MATTER AT ALL. The crater where the White House once stood… IF I LIVE OR DIE.



TOMMY ONIONS: He’s a bit of a strange one.



Dagvald reaches the ring and walks up the steel steps, climbs up the turnbuckles and perches upon the top rope. He poses as he hoists his axe high in the air, shield before his chest, and stands tall over the inferior peasantry of the audience. A massive Norwegian flag unfurls with a bang over the centre of the ring. Dagvald hops down and poses again in front of it. The final lyrics to the song thunder through the arena as flames erupt from every ring post. IT DON’T MATTER AT ALL, IF I LIVE OR DIE.



BOB MOONEY: And the RSW Legacy Champion, hailing from the Great Albionum……It is Kevin Rouser!!!!



“So begins our Alabee” by Of Montreal starts to blare around the arena. Rouser walks through the curtain and slowly saunters down to the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Here comes the old man.



TOMMY ONIONS: What have you got against Rouser?



Rouser slowly walks to the ring and climbs in. Both men stare across the ring at each other intensely. Ring attendants stack up tables, ladders, and chairs at ringside as the two men pace back and forth in their respective corners. Finally the referee signals for the bell.



TOMMY ONIONS: Here we go, Joseph. This one should be a real barn burner.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think so.



The two men lock up and Rouser quickly performs a go-behind and snares a hammerlock on Riddik. Riddik ducks down and ends up behind Rouser. He grabs Rouser in a side headlock and then steps into his knee, forcing Rouser down. Rouser escapes the hold and drops to his stomach, taking Riddik down with drop toehold and then quickly applying a headlock as he lies on the mat. Riddik slips out and gets to his feet just as Rouser does at the same time. The crowd applauds.



TOMMY ONIONS: Excellent wrestling sequence there, but I have a feeling that wrestling might go out the window once the TLC element takes over the match.



JOSEPH GREER: No doubt, but Riddik just proved that he can stand toe-to-toe with the wily veteran Rouser in a pure wrestling situation.



Rouser runs at Riddik for a clothesline, but Riddik ducks under it and dropkicks Rouser out of the ring. Rouser lands on his feet but he’s quickly taken down as Riddik launches himself onto Rouser with a pescado. Both men lie on the floor for several seconds, but it’s Riddik who stirs first. He walks over to a stack of chairs and grabs one. He sets it up and then grabs another, leaving it in the folded position. As Rouser gets to his feet, Riddik takes a running start, leaps up onto the chair he set up first and then jumps off, bringing the second chair crashing down onto Rouser’s skull.



TOMMY ONIONS: Good God! Did you hear that?!



JOSEPH GREER: What a sickening thud…for Rouser! Haha!



Riddik grabs a ladder and throws it into the ring. He starts to climb in, but grabs one of the tables at ringside and slides it in as well. Rouser drags himself to his feet using the guard rail as Riddik slides back in. Riddik sets up the table and then the ladder. Rouser rolls back into the ring as Riddik begins to ascend the ladder and jumps on the table. He yells out Riddik’s name who turns to see him standing there. Rouser leaps off the table and extends his legs for a missile dropkick, knocking both Riddik and the ladder over.



TOMMY ONIONS: Nice move by Rouser! He’s quick on his feet, Greer.



JOSEPH GREER: Bah! Riddik OWNS Rouser!



Rouser quickly grabs his opponent and executes a back suplex. He eyes one of the chairs at ringside and rolls out to grab it. Rouser climbs up top from the apron with the chair in hand. As Riddik stands up, Rouser leaps off the top rope with the chair but Riddik drops down at the last moment and the chair doesn’t connect. Riddik stands up quickly but Rouser throws the chair at him. Riddik catches it on instinct and Rouser dropkicks it into his face. Riddik staggers back, stunned, but does not go down. Rouser takes him down with a swinging neck breaker and then grabs the ladder.



TOMMY ONIONS: It looks like Rouser’s ready to make a run at the title belt now.



JOSEPH GREER: C’mon, Riddik, you can’t let that old man beat you!



Rouser climbs up the ladder as Riddik struggles to stand up. Suddenly Rouser looks over his shoulder at Riddik and then leaps back for a moonsault. The crowd pops huge as the move connects but the cheers turn to boos as Riddik manages to catch Rouser and then gives him a running power slam and drives him through the table.



TOMMY ONIONS: Holy…! I can’t believe it! Rouser’s moonsault attempt has seriously backfired!



JOSEPH GREER: Riddik is the real future of RSW!



Riddik rolls out of the ring and grabs 2 of the 6 foot ladders, sliding them into the ring. He then grabs another table and slides it in as well. He starts to climb in but then grabs yet another table and slides it in as well.



TOMMY ONIONS: What the heck is Riddik up to?



JOSEPH GREER: I dunno, but I have a feeling Rouser’s going to be really hurting after this.



Riddik rams Rouser’s head into the turnbuckle, keeping him disoriented. He then sets up the 2 ladders and maneuverers one of the tables onto them, forming a bridge. He grabs the second table and sets it up beneath the bridge.



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh my…this does not look healthy for either man.



Riddik grabs Rouser and uses a vertical suplex to put Rouser atop the table/ladder bridge. He then climbs up with him and signals to the crowd that he’s going to finish Rouser off. He grabs Rouser and pulls him up into a standing head scissors. The crowd comes to their feet as Riddik positions himself to power bomb Rouser through the lower table.



JOSEPH GREER: Riddik is going to kill Rouser!! All in the name of the RSW Legacy title!!



The crowd pops huge as Riddik lifts Rouser up for the power bomb; the cheers grow even louder as Rouser suddenly shifts his weight in mid-air, turning the power bomb into a hurricanrana, sending Riddik crashing through the table with a deafening crack of the wooden table.



TOMMY ONIONS: OH MY GOD!!! Riddik’s super bomb attempt was reversed in mid-freaking-air by Rouser!! Both men are down!!



JOSEPH GREER: How in the HELL did he do that?! I mean, it’s just not even humanly possible!!



Both men lie on the mat motionless as the crowd stamps their feet and claps theirs hands, cheering all the while; the referee checks on both men and signals to the camera that they seem to be okay. Rouser gets to his feet first and pulls Riddik up. He drops him again with a double underhook DDT and then looks out at the crowd, eliciting extremely loud cheers from them. Rouser quickly steps out onto the apron and leaps up onto the top rope. Flash bulbs pop all over the arena as Rouser leaps and connects with a frog splash on Riddik.



JOSEPH GREER: He can’t do that!! He’s way too old to do a move like that!



TOMMY ONIONS: Geez, Greer, calm down already. I’m supposed to be the one that doesn’t like people.



Rouser stands up and sets a ladder up under the title belt. He begins to climb it but halfway up he clutches at his ribs.



TOMMY ONIONS: Uh oh…it looks like Rouser may have injured his ribs on that frog splash.



JOSEPH GREER: Good! Serves the SOB right.



Riddik stands up, also clutching his ribs and his eyes widen upon spying Rouser climbing up the ladder. He takes a step forward, but then drops to one knee as his ribs twinge. Up on the ladder, Rouser stops momentarily as well. Riddik sees this and quickly strides over to Rouser. He turns to face the crowd and then reaches up and grabs Rouser by the waist. He pulls Rouser down into a sit down power bomb. Rouser’s head bounces off the mat as a result of the move and he appears out of it.



TOMMY ONIONS: Rouser’s down again!!



JOSEPH GREER: Yeah. Yeah!!



Riddik starts to climb the ladder, but then looks down at Rouser lying on the mat. He pulls Rouser up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and then drives him into the canvas with a Death Valley Driver.



TOMMY ONIONS: The DVD!! That’s a huge move!!



JOSEPH GREER: It’s about time that someone brought it to Rouser.



Riddik grabs a chair, rams it into Rouser’s ribs, and then lays it on top of him. He then rolls out of the ring and grabs a 12 foot ladder and brings it into the ring. He sets the ladder up and then begins to climb it. Just as he reaches the top, Riddik looks down at Rouser and gives the thumbs down to the crowd. Riddik leaps from the ladder and nails a leg drop across Rouser’s throat.



TOMMY ONIONS: He connects!!



JOSEPH GREER: I think he’s killed him!!



TOMMY ONIONS: Not so fast, Joseph. Riddik jumped right onto that chair, so he took a good deal of punishment himself! Wait…I don’t believe it! Rouser is up!!



Rouser stands up, revealing a cut on his forehead. The camera pans down to reveal that Riddik is busted open as well.



JOSEPH GREER: Oh man! They must have cracked heads somehow when Riddik landed!



TOMMY ONIONS: I think they did, Joseph.



Rouser begins climbing the ladder as quickly as he can, but must stop every couple of steps to wipe the blood from his eyes. The crowd cheers as Rouser nears the top. Rouser steps on the third to last rung and begins reaching for the title belt. Suddenly the crowd begins booing as Riddik is seen climbing up on the opposite side. Rouser reaches down and swats at Riddik, but Riddik catches his hand and shoves Rouser backward. Rouser grabs onto the ladder and maintains his vantage point. Riddik levels up with Rouser and the two begin trading lefts and rights. Riddik is stunned by a stinging jab from Rouser. Rouser reaches back for a roundhouse but suddenly Riddik ducks under it, grabs Rouser by the neck, and throws him off the ladder, with Rouser’s throat connecting with the top rope.



TOMMY ONIONS: Rouser’s down!! Rouser’s down!!



JOSEPH GREER: Yes, yes, yes!!!



Riddik climbs up one more rung and then reaches up to retrieve the title belt. In an amazing feat of stamina and determination, Rouser manages to crawl back over to the ladder and push it over, sending Riddik out of the ring and through a table at ringside.



JOSEPH GREER: Dammit!! No!! How does he keep getting up?!



TOMMY ONIONS: It’s called heart, Greer!!



Both Rouser and Riddik are out of it but struggling to come around. Riddik drags himself back into the ring under the bottom rope. Across the ring, Rouser begins setting up one of the ladders and Riddik does the same after a few moments. They begin to climb up and once again meet each other, this time on the separate ladders. Rouser gains the advantage and places Rouser in a front face lock.



TOMMY ONIONS: What’s Rouser going for here?!



Rouser then signals for a tornado DDT, but suddenly Riddik shifts his weight and throws Rouser off of him. Rouser right leg ends up tangled in the ropes and he struggles to get loose as Riddik sneers down at him, looks up at the title and grabs it to win the match.



JOSEPH GREER: Yes!! Yes, yes, yes!!



TOMMY ONIONS: Riddik has captured the RSW Legacy title!!

[vastrix]

The feed switches to what’s obviously a pre-recorded video. A man in battered leather jacket that looks like it’s seen better days sits astride a vintage Harley motorcycle, leaning forward with his arms braced over the handlebars. The words NO FUN are on a patch sewn onto the left breast and a can of Pepsi is clutched in one hand. He throws his head back, downing the rest of the soda before crushing the can in his fist. Nodding, he beckons the camera to move in closer, banishing some of the shadows from his bearded face. Some might recognize him from his stint in Olympus or a few other promotions that have come and gone over the years. A smile drifts across his face as he glances over his shoulder, a sudden breeze making his hair fall over his forehead and into his eyes.



MAN: You don’t know me. Even if you’ve seen my face before, even if you’ve watched every match I ever competed in, even if you picked apart every word I ever said in one of these damned videos… you’d still be playin’ with less than half a deck.



He chuckles softly, shaking his head, that lazy drawl and soft cadence of his words putting the viewer at ease.



MAN: Some of you know me. Word gets ’round in this small, small town of ours, don’t it? An’ maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re gonna play the ‘who the hell’s this guy’ game when this goes live or you see those ten letters that’re supposed to define me alongside yours on the next bookin’ sheet. Name’s Lex Collins.



His smile seems almost self-deprecating now.



LEX COLLINS: Hey there.



He blinks, letting the silence spill out while he fiddles with the skull ring on his finger, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Sighing, he shakes his head.



LEX COLLINS: Not expectin’ a celebration, here. No fruit basket waitin’ in the locker room or a ticker-tape parade down Main Street. I know I’m not one of those names on the bucket lists people make – don’t care. I’m here for one reason only an’ it ain’t to kiss babies an’ win friends. I just wanna do what I was born to do.



The smile’s still there, bordering on amused even though his eyes still seem sad.



LEX COLLINS: Once more with feeling an’ all that jazz. So, hey, Riot Star… who wants to fight? Guess I’ll find out the answer to that one real soon, huh?



He flashes a peace sign and that crooked smile again. Without another word, the feed cuts back to the live show.

[vastrix]

JOSEPH GREER: Here we are! A match we’ve certainly been looked by forward to as two friends, two former Tagteam partners compete against each other with the RSW Anarchy Championship on the line as the founder Rob Riot challenges reigning Anarchy Champion ‘D’ in a submission match!



TOMMY ONIONS: Friendship smendship Joey, there’s money on the line here, they can be friends after.



BOB MOONEY: The filling contest is scheduled for one fall and is a submission match for the RSW Anarchy Championship…



Bob expertly pauses allowing the crowd to pop for their semi-main event of the evening.



I FEEL YOU!!!!!!!!!!



BOB MOONEY: …introducing first from Blackpool England. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty eight pounds, he is the Founder of Riot Star Wrestling….ROB RIOT!!!



“I Feel you” by Depeche Mode cranks into life and the crowd comes alive for the legendary Englishman, as red and white spotlights pick out the entranceway.



The cheers only grow louder as Riot steps through, his head hung toward the floor.



JOSEPH GREER: Looking at the RSW founder, maybe everything has finally caught up the The sure fire future RSW hall of famer. He’s not acting like himself Tommy.



Wearing his trademark long silk ring jacket, and adjusting the tightness of his red, UFC style ring gloves, Rob seemingly pays no heed to the crowd chanting his name.



TOMMY ONIONS: Exactly how is that Joey? Gloves, check. Frilly ring jacket, check. Bald head, check. So other than looks my down, what exactly is different?



The noise is deafening, bending down onto all fours, as he did a few events ago, he mimes taking a snort off the mock-cocaine floor, before standing back up and roaring as if he’d taken a big hit. He raises his fists in the air.



JOSEPH GREER: Look at Riot! That Tommy! That is different!



Seen clearly for the first time, Riot has one side of his face painted in the white and black of a ‘V for Vendetta’ style Guy Fawkes mask, leaving the other half of his face a picture of the duality of his conflicted mind.



TOMMY ONIONS: What about it? ‘D’ paints himself up like a whore every match and you never say shit!



JOSEPH GREER: But Riot doesn’t…this might not be Rob Riot as we’re used to seeing him. This could be RSW’s introduction to ‘The J Man’.



TOMMY ONIONS: looks like the same guy to me Greer…



JOSEPH GREER: Back in PWA, Riot held an alter ego, a darker side…The J Man. I shutter to think what might happen if he’s gone back to that darkness!



TOMMY ONIONS: Was he crazier? More violent maybe?



JOSEPH GREER: JOSEPH GREER: Riot is looking focused, other than the odd throwback to his days as Pinnacle Champion, Riot looks determined and he might have to be to beat the Champion here tonight! The J Man of PWA was a force to be reckoned with and seemed capable of things Rob Riot wouldn’t normally do Tommy…



TOMMY ONIONS: Good because he hasn’t done a whole lot lately other than get made to look like a bitch in his own company, Riot could do with a change.



Reaching the ring Shawna seems a little more wary of Riot than usual as he nonchalantly paces the ring to the cheers of the fans as he awaits his opponent.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent…from Parts Unknown. Weighing in at two hundred and thirteen pounds, he is the RSW Anarchy Champion…he is ‘D’!



Smoke gathers at the entrance ramp as ‘Freak’ by Silverchair begins.



JOSEPH GREER: Hardly done anything? He’s a former RSW World Tagteam Champion, he was the second last man eliminated in the battle royal that gave Shane Mitchell his change at the RSW World Heavyweight Championship…and he’s Rob Riot!



TOMMY ONIONS: Man crush much? Look Joey, Riot is a former Tagteam Champion, former…he was eliminated second last, but Shane Mitchell won. So are we supposed to just pretend that shot don’t matter? Because if it doesn’t, then why are we here? You’re supposed to win Greer, that’s how you get to the top Joey, by winning. No one ever became World Champion by not winning. That’s all I’m saying.



Stepped jag through the curtain, ‘D’ paces atop the entrance ramp, within moments his head stops moving as he catches sight of Riot.



JOSEPH GREER: Here comes the Anarchy Champion, ‘D’. He’s been on a roll since AnarChristmas where he became Champion, and very nearly became World Champion himself at Masquerade.



TOMMY ONIONS: There you go again. Nearly became Champion? Dylan Erickson is RSW World Heavyweight Champion Joey. Dylan Erickson, not Riot, not ‘D’…not anyone else. Fucking millennials…



JOSEPH GREER: Millennial!? I’m older than you Tommy!



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s an age thing? I thought it meant hipster douchebag that expects life to be easy and fun.



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think I know anyone exactly like that…



Looking at Riot as he gets closer, ‘D’ doesn’t seem surprised so much as he seems apprehensive, almost remorseful at what he was about to do. Entering the ring, the two men lock eyes perhaps saying more than words possibly could at this point.



JOSEPH GREER: Look at the body language of both men Tommy. Clearly each man knows they’re in for a fight. The few times we’ve seen them compete against each other over the years have been showcases of just about every style available and we can expect no less tonight!



DING! DING!! DING!!!



JOSEPH GREER: There’s the bell Tommy, and we’re underway…submission only.



TOMMY ONIONS: So, what you’re telling me is unless someone breaks an arm or leg, this one’s gonna be boring?



Fans cheer as both Riot and ‘D’ walk to center ring. Very few words are exchanged between them before they shake hands quickly and begin to circle center ring to a round of applause.



TOMMY ONIONS: A handshake? What the actual fuck? There no place for that shit here! Yup, this one’s gonna suck folks, piss break, get a drink…do what you gotta do.



JOSEPH GREER: Not at all, this is about trying to break the will of the other man, and quiting is not something either of these men is known for. The crowd certainly disagrees with you Tommy. The fact that a show of respect like that is so Rare in this industry should be appalling.



Locking up in a collar and elbow tie up, they jockey for position only for a moment before Riot begins to use his weight advantage to muscle ‘D’ back to a corner. Raising his hands, Riot backs away toward center ring with a coy smile on his face.



JOSEPH GREER: Riot getting the better of that exchange and maybe getting a little mental warfare in on his friend and former Tagteam partner?



Nodding, ‘D’ smirks. The game was on.



TOMMY ONIONS: Everyone talks about ‘their history’ this and ‘PWA’ that. That was a long ass time ago motherfuckers. These two have hardly spoke since they both returned. Trust me, they might be cordial and shit now, but I don’t see a twenty eighteen ‘stick it to the fans one more time’ reunion tour coming up for these two.



Locking back up, Riot once more attempts to bully the enigma back, a quick duck under and go behind place ‘D’ in control with a waist lock.



JOSEPH GREER: Locking up, ‘D ‘ now with a go behind. Riot looking to get a rope break.



Attempting to break the grip, Riot manages to get himself within arm’s length, grabbing the bottom rope. Shawna is in position and begins her count.



1…



She barely gets a one count before ‘D’ mimicking Rob from only moments ago, he backs away toward center ring with his hands in the air.



JOSEPH GREER: A return of the favour from ‘D’!



TOMMY ONIONS: Mark my words Greer, this gentlemen shit doesn’t last.



For a third time they lock up, this time Riot immediately snatches a standing headlock, transitioning to a takeover he begins wrenching on the neck of the enigma.



JOSEPH GREER: Headlock takeover by Rob Riot, now normally Shawna would be checking to see if the shoulders are down, but in these submission only rules, it doesn’t matter.



Struggling, ‘D’ uses flexibility to snatch a headscissor of his own forcing Riot to break the hold.



TOMMY ONIONS: Boring!



JOSEPH GREER: Boring?! This is technical wrestling at it’s finest Tommy, this guys are playing a high level chess match right before our eyes!



Riot kicks out of the headscissor and rolls to standing launching a straight super kick into ‘D’ jaw drawing a cheer from the crowd and Tommy Onions alike.



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s more like it! I told you things would heat up!



JOSEPH GREER: That was a fantastic and quick thinking counter by the RSW founder, nothing more. Riot going for the leg!



A stomp to the leg sets ‘D’s’ right leg straight, diving at the limb Riot twists it up in an ankle lock.



JOSEPH GREER: There’s an ankle lock from Rob Riot, looking to end this early or maybe set up his patented ‘Locking Clamp’ later in the match! Riot used that hold to win many a match and championship and could very well be looking to go back to the well one more time to become Anarchy Champion here tonight!



TOMMY ONIONS: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.



Scrambling from just shy of center ring, ‘D’ scratches and claws attempting to reach the ropes.



JOSEPH GREER: The pressure this hold puts on the point and tendons is tremendous…’D’ is doing everything he can to claw his way to a rope break!



Pulling him back, Shawna is there but it’s a firm no through gritted teeth from ‘D’.



TOMMY ONIONS: And fat lot of good it did him! Ha!



Pushing himself up through the pain, ‘D’ rolls under sending Riot tumbling to the outside of the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Excellent desperation counter by ‘D’! Riot tumbling to the floor! Here is the chance he needs to recover and get some feeling back into that leg!



Kicking his right leg as he lays on his back, ‘D’ takes a moment before getting back to his feet.



TOMMY ONIONS: Here we go Greer! They’re finally fighting!



Staring across the ring, ‘D’ decides against fully testing his leg at the moment.



JOSEPH GREER: ‘D’ being cautious, normally he’d go for a suicide dive there, but he looks to have thought better of it. Wait…he’s measuring Riot…



Grabbing the top rope, ‘D’ waits until Riot regains his footing before slingshotting himself over the top rope into a twisting crossbody!



JOSEPH GREER: …twisting crossbody block to the outside! Both men are down!



Shawna is at the ropes looking down at both men as ‘D’ scrambles back to his feet, followed closely by Riot.



JOSEPH GREER: ‘D’ is back up but is favouring that leg Tommy.



TOMMY ONIONS: Wait a sec…why isn’t Shawna counting?



JOSEPH GREER: Because it’s a submission match Tommy. No count out, no disqualifi…



TOMMY ONIONS: Get the weapons! No DQ?! Grab a chair and get to work!



A forearm shot from the enigma is returned by the Riot Star while the crowd cheers as they exchange blows.



JOSEPH GREER: Both men showing intensity here Tommy! But notice, no closed fists! They’re keeping this, at least somewhat, professional.



Riot staggers ‘D’ back into the ring post gaining control with a series of rapid short forearm shots before a European uppercut wobbles him back against the steel post and steps.



JOSEPH GREER: Another forearm shot for good measure has Riot firmly in control. Backing up, what’s he thinking here?



Charging forward, Riot looks to crumple the enigma once again with an avalanche to the helpless Anarchy Champion.



JOSEPH GREER: Big avalanche…oh!



TOMMY ONIONS: That had to hurt!



Slipping down to the floor, or perhaps collapsing due to his right leg, ‘D’ avoids the attack sending Riot chest first into the steel.



JOSEPH GREER: Absolutely Tommy! Another desperate counter from ‘D’! He now has Riot staggering backwards…



As Riot regains his senses he steps forward into a boot to the gut From ‘D’ with the help of the ring apron.



JOSEPH GREER: …he’s laying these kicks in as best he can, but he’s essentially on one leg here now Tommy!



Hopping up onto the ring apron, ‘D’ clutches the ropes while lashing out with a stiff left kick that sends Riot back into the barricade causing the timekeeper to abandon his seat.



TOMMY ONIONS: Out of the way! What a useless job…timekeeper…dude could be replaced by a stop watch and any fan not dumb enough to fuck up ringing a bell.



Launching himself through the air once more, Riot dodges the clumsy attack from the one legged enigma, sending him crashing into the barricade before slapping the ringside mats with a sickening thud.



JOSEPH GREER: Riot’s out of the way! Oh! If ‘D’ wasn’t hurt before, he certainly is now, but look at Riot…



Riot stares at the crumpled ‘D’ then at the timekeeper’s chair. Fans show a mix of excitement and disappointment in the RSW founder’s train of thought as he makes his decision.



JOSEPH GREER: No Rob! Don’t do it!



TOMMY ONIONS: Do it Rob! Do it twice!



Gritting his teeth, Riot’s decision, reluctantly, is made. Swinging, he blasts ‘D’ with the chair targeting the right leg once more, dropping to the mats outside the ring, ‘D’ clutches at the leg.



TOMMY ONIONS: Yup, there they are Greer, ‘keeping it professional’ all the way. I’m guessing that was a professional grade chair then?



Fans boo, but some can be heard clearly in favour of The J man’s actions.



JOSEPH GREER: This is disturbing folks, Riot can end this just about any time he wants. The wear and tear on that right leg throughout this match has been something we’ve seen ‘D’ battle through, but that’s got to be it!



TOMMY ONIONS: If he has any sense, couldn’t he just quit now?



JOSEPH GREER: Go over there and you tell him that. ‘D’ has been a fighting champion since winning the title in ‘December’ at AnarChristmas, if Rob Riot wants that title it looks like he’s going to have to take it!



Hauling his friend by the hair, Riot throws the chair into the ring, before practically doing the same to ‘D’ under the bottom rope and rolling into the ring himself.



TOMMY ONIONS: See that where this ‘pride’ and ‘honour’ shit fucks with a person. A smart person quits and minimizes the damage, this dumb motherfucker is trying to get up.



Staring down at ‘D’, Riot shakes his head as he has the weapon at the ready and clearly would use it if need be.



ROB RIOT: Yield! Don’t you get it?! I need this! He’ll come back!



JOSEPH GREER: Riot now practically pleading with ‘D’ to just stay down.



TOMMY ONIONS: Finally someone who fucking agrees with me!



Shaking his head, ‘D’ pulls himself to his feet using the corner, fans cheer the show of intestinal fortitude as he limps toward Riot once again.



ROB RIOT: I’m sorry…



Swinging to the right knee and shin area one final time; ‘D’ goes down as if he’s been shot. Tossing the black folding chair aside, Riot locks up an Achilles’ tendon lock with ease.



JOSEPH GREER: Locking Clamp! This has to be it!



‘D’ shows a final burst, but Riot has none of it, wrenching the leg until his opponent can seemingly take no more.



TOMMY ONIONS: See?! This is just stupid, anyone with any brains would have given up a while ago, but this moron is risking permanently fucking his knee up, for what? Respect?



Somehow, ‘D’ continues struggling against the pain, against the constant wrenching of the hold by Rob. Fans cheer as he tries to drag not just himself, but Riot as well closer to the ropes.



JOSEPH GREER: Yes Tommy, as shocking as it may be to you to watch someone fight against an almost certainty…respect is all these two have at this stage of their respective careers.



With no other option and the pain at excruciating levels, there is only one way out…‘D’ finally raises his hand to tap.



JOSEPH GREER: He’s going to tap! Riot is moments away from becoming Anarchy Champion!



A burst of cheers erupts, drawing attention to a figure running to the ringside area.



Female and dressed in red and black, brown hair whips around her as she runs, obscuring her face, Greer makes the call.



JOSEPH GREER: Alyssa! It’s Alyssa Lucchi! She’s out here to cheer on her fiancé!



TOMMY ONIONS: Or, knowing her, she could be here to ‘trade up’…if you know what I’m saying.



JOSEPH GREER: Really Tommy? Really? Wait what’s that in her hand?



Alyssa reaches ring side and the distress is plainly written on her usually delicate features as Riot continues to apply pressure.



TOMMY ONIONS: Probably the towel she used to ‘clean herself up’ while ‘D’ was in the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: Tommy! I think you’re living in the past.



TOMMY ONIONS: Nope, pretty sure that’s a towel Joey.



Perhaps noticing her, ‘D’ slams his hand down looking to post up and relieve some pressure, digging his finger nails into the canvas, though his actions seem completely in vain.



Screaming in pain, Alyssa physically flinches at the sound. It’s clear she is having difficulty watching what was unfolding before her eyes.



JOSEPH GREER: Wait, you don’t think she’s here to…



Before Joseph Greer finishes his sentence, Alyssa launches the towel into the ring.



JOSEPH GREER: She did it! Alyssa just threw in the towel for ‘D’, shades of Arnold Skaaland when he managed Bob Backland way back.



Shawna, seeing the towel recognizes Alyssa’s intent almost immediately and calls for the bell ending the enigma’s torture.



DING! DING!! DING!!!



Handing the RSW Anarchy Championship to Riot, he doesn’t pander for the crowd. Instead he shakes his head as he stares down at ‘D’ as he’s joined by Alyssa.



ROB RIOT: You did the right thing.



Rushing to ‘D’s’ side, his leg in too much agony for him to question Shawna’s decision, she helps him roll toward the apron.



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s great, a history lesson, new Anarchy Champion, congrats boss and Alyssa and all, but did you hear Riot? I want to hear you say it.



JOSEPH GREER: Say what?



TOMMY ONIONS: That I was right. When it came down to it look at this replay…



The closing moments of the match are shown as Riot first apologies and then blasts his former Tagteam partner in the leg before using his trusted hold to finish the night.



TOMMY ONIONS: Then there’s Alyssa…some wife material she is. She just handed ‘D’s’ title to Riot! I wonder what else she’s ‘handing out’ backstage that should be ‘D’s’?



Tommy’s version of events aside, Bob Mooney takes over momentarily as ‘I feel you’ by Depeche Mode begins to blast throughout the arena.



BOB MOONEY: The winner of this match, and NEW RSW Anarchy Champion….Rob Riot!!!!



JOSEPH GREER: Bob making it official, but I don’t think it’s as simple, or as gross as you say Tommy. Riot clearly said ‘He’ll come back.’ I think this quest to hold RSW gold is just to give his estranged son Sammy, a reason to come back and hunt down his father!



TOMMY ONIONS: Didn’t he go by Segway or something?



With Alyssa under his right arm, ‘D’ begins making his way toward the back. The arena gives a cheer, with Riot himself clapping politely, as ‘D’ disappears gingerly beyond the curtains.



JOSEPH GREER: Listen to the ovation for the heart on display by ‘D’, good to see the fans showing respect for someone who put it all out there like he did. And it was Segomo…



TOMMY ONIONS: Look, Riot might want to focus on setting the company straight after years of crazy management, not worry about Segmento.



JOSEPH GREER: Segomo…regardless Sammy, Segomo, whatever you choose to call him, Riot was obviously sending a message tonight. Assuming Sammy is even watching.



Taking a deep breath, Rob Riot stands alone in the ring, the RSW Anarchy Championship hanging from his right hand. A stoic look from a man who should be happy.



JOSEPH GREER: But just look at him Tommy, Rob Riot will do anything to see his son again. He might have just crippled one of his oldest friends in the business just to try to lure Sammy back. These are dangerous times with the J Man possibly stalking about the RSW locker room!



TOMMY ONIONS: Ok so he almost crippled Batman here tonight…holy shit. If ‘D’ was Batman when he wore the mask, that makes Riot fucking Bane! Mind blown! Tommy Onions does it again!



JOSEPH GREER: If by ‘Tommy Onions does it again’ you mean a ton of drugs, you might be right. We’re going to head to a word about Anarchy Thirty Nine which is coming to you live from Lobito, Angola!



TOMMY ONIONS: Where in Malariaville is that now?



JOSEPH GREER: We’ll be right back with your main event of the evening!

[vastrix]

BOB MOONEY: This next match is the main event of the evening and is for the RSW World Heavyweight Championship! The type of match will be determined by a spin of the wheel. Featuring first the challenger…Havok!



“Psychosocial ” By Slipknot suddenly hits and the lights begin to flash violently to the beat. The ramp starts to flood with smoke as 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. He comes to the end of the ramp he looks around before he begins circle the ring. He slowly climbs up the steel steps. He climbs through the ropes. Eddie walks over to the farthest turnbuckle and climbs up. He looks out across the crowd. He raises both arms above his head. As his music dies down as Eddie ditches his leather jacket and jumps down onto the apron and waits in the corner, pacing back and forth ready for the match to start.



TOMMY ONIONS: Why the fuck does this guy have a title shot when Dylan should be focusing on Shane Mitchell? It’s crazy!



JOSEPH GREER: I really don’t have the answer to that one. I wouldn’t have allowed this match to happen.



BOB MOONEY: And his opponent…the RSW World champion…Dylan Erickson!



No music plays as the name Dylan Erickson plays across the RioTron. The man himself steps out from the back with the RSW World Championship belt around his waist. He walks down to the ring to the cheering of the crowd, handing the belt away to Shawna Savate, who displays the title to the crowd.



TOMMY ONIONS: Our champion. People keep calling him a paper champion, but he’s going to show everyone different tonight.



JOSEPH GREER: I sure hope so.



BOB MOONEY: And the match type that will be for this match is…



The wheel at ringside is spun with the wheel slowing down at different options, but keeps increasing its speed back again.



TOMMY ONIONS: Is Evening Gown on the list? Would evening gowns be brought down to the ring for the wrestlers to try on? How would they have Dylan’s size?



JOSEPH GREER: I don’t think that Evening Gown match is on the list.



The match type almost lands on Street Fight, but lands on Russian Chain instead.



BOB MOONEY: The match type will be Russian Chain!



A long chain is brought into the ring where Shawna Savate hooks it to first Dylan’s wrist and then Havok’s.



TOMMY ONIONS: As a motorcycle riding punk, Havok should be used to restraints.



JOSEPH GREER: I thought you would be more used to restraints.



TOMMY ONIONS: You don’t know the half of it, baby! So many kinky ass women, only one Sweet Tommy!



The bell rings to start the match, Havok immediately begins pulling on the chain to try to pull Dylan off guard and to him. Dylan doesn’t move, but Havok uses the lack of slack in the line to pull himself to Dylan quickly so that he can sink a fast elbow into the champion’s gut.



Havok continues from there, belting Dylan with a few rights and lefts before bouncing off of the ropes, and striking him in the side of the head with a jumping elbow strike that sends Dylan rocking. Another elbow to the gut forces Dylan to double over.



Havok reaches to grab Dylan, but catches a double axe handle uppercut that sends him backwards a few steps. Dylan picks up some of the slack of the chain, wrapping it around his fist, and slams it into the side of Havok’s head with a shout. Havok hits the mat, clutching at his face with a shout of pain as blood begins to trickle through his fingers.



TOMMY ONIONS: That was a solid blow from the champion!



JOSEPH GREER: Havok was busted open by that shot. Who put Russian Chain on the list anyway?



TOMMY ONIONS: Better than the Taipei Death Match that Hijinks and Andi almost had.



JOSEPH GREER: That would have been a bloody mess. It was still a mess.



TOMMY ONIONS: But in a good way…



JOSEPH GREER: I blame you.



Dylan reaches for Havok, but Eddie flicks blood into his eyes from his fingers. Dylan backs away while trying to clear his eyes with the chain behind his feet. Havok takes up the chain, pulling it tight so that it sweeps behind Dylan’s knees to bring him down to the mat.



Havok springs up, taking to the top turnbuckle in a heartbeat, and leaping at Dylan to strike a quick knee drop. He grabs Dylan by the left ankle, lifting the leg up as high as he can, and slams the knee down to the mat!



JOSEPH GREER: Eddie looking to take out one of the tree trunks that is Dylan’s legs.



TOMMY ONIONS: That’s a hard thing to do.



Havok lifts the ankle up to do it again, but Dylan rolls, and strikes Havok in the chest with his other foot in a stomping motion that sends Havok flopping backwards to the mat and gasping for air like a fish out of water.



JOSEPH GREER: You see that big red foot print on Eddie’s chest? Jesus!



TOMMY ONIONS: Eddie is like the floor now.



Dylan rises up to his feet with a stern look as he watches Eddie get up. The World Champion flings the slack of the chain into the air and connects with a superkick to sandwich the chain between his foot and Havok’s jaw!



The crowd “Oooohhh” in sympathy as Havok sails over the top rope. He strikes the ring apron with his shoulder and then lands on the concrete floor.



TOMMY ONIONS: Christ! I think I saw a tooth fly into the crowd!



JOSEPH GREER: That kick was terrifying!



Havok rolls around on the floor, spitting out blood as he favors the shoulder that the arm is connected to Dylan via the chain. The same shoulder that struck the ring apron.



Dylan walks over to the side of the ring, taking up the slack of the chain with his hands until it’s taut. He grins as he looks down to regard Havok.



DYLAN ERICKSON: Golden Boy! Are you having fun yet? Hmm? The Future of the RSW seems to be in jeopardy!



A quick yank of the chain pulls Havok’s arm straight up into the air and draws a ragged scream of pain from the man.



TOMMY ONIONS: Did you hear that pop? I think the Champ just jerked Havok’s shoulder out of socket!



JOSEPH GREER: I wonder even if he takes the fight back to Dylan if he will even be able to drag Dylan’s bulk to the four corners?



Another yank from the champion gets Havok up to his feet like a sick meat puppet with his arm in the air. Havok sucks in air through his teeth, trying to not scream again. Dylan releases the chain, allowing Havok’s arm to fall back down to his side.



Dylan steps through the ropes, allowing a section of the chain to be hung up onto the top rope as he gets down to the floor. He hits a knee into Havok’s gut to double him over.



DYLAN ERICKSON: Come on, Golden Boy. Hit me!



Havok stands straight up, taking a swing with his good arm. Dylan takes the shot on the chin and pulls hard on the chain to take up the slack and rip Havok’s arm into the air. Havok tries, but he can’t quite block out the scream of pain that tears from his body. Dylan strikes with a solid kick to that shoulder, keeping hold of the chain to keep Havok in the upright position. Havok dangles from the chain, a mixture of blood and drool streaming from his mouth as the pain starts to become overwhelming.



Havok regains his footing, rolling into the ring under the bottom rope. He stands up, looking down to Dylan, who also rolls under the bottom rope. Havok backs up a few steps with Dylan following, but Dylan can’t reach him?



JOSEPH GREER: The chain is bound up so much in the ropes that they can’t get to one another?



TOMMY ONIONS: Oh they can, but Havok is staying out of reach for the moment.



The bell rings to stop the match.



BOB MOONEY: This match is going to be paused for a moment while the chain is taken care of.



Shawna Savate unhooks both Havok and Dylan Erickson, instructing them to go to their separate corners. An EMT comes down to the ring while Shawna works on getting the chain from the ropes. He rolls into the ring and begins to check on Havok’s shoulder, popping it back into place as Havok lets out a roar of pain.



DYLAN ERICKSON: Are you serious? Havok is such a golden boy that he can get fixed up during a pause to the match?



The crowd seem to be in agreement, booing Havok as he works the kinks out of his shoulder with a wince.



JOSEPH GREER: I wonder why the EMT came down to the ring to fix Havok?



TOMMY ONIONS: Either he knows where the bodies are buried or Armand is trying to give Havok some advantage to make the match good.



JOSEPH GREER: Bodies are buried? Do you think that-



TOMMY ONIONS: I didn’t mean literally! Though, you never know…



Shawna hooks both Havok and Dylan back up to the chain, backing out of the way, and signalling for the bell to restart the match. Havok and Dylan go at each other right off the sound of the bell, Dylan hitting a clothesline that sends Havok down to the mat with authority.



Dylan raises a foot to stomp down on Havok’s chest, but he rolls out of the way. A thunderous boom silences the crowd for a moment as it seems as if Dylan were going to put a hole through the mat.



Havok rolls to his feet, hitting a bridging German suplex! He doesn’t hold the bridge for very long, realizing that he cannot win via pinfall. He rolls away from Dylan for a moment, favoring his shoulder with a sneer. He gets back into it, taking a length of chain to bring it around Dylan’s throat.



Dylan grabs the chain before it hits his throat. He moves backward to catch Havok in the gut with a back elbow. He stands up, turns around, kicks Havok in the gut, and sends him to the mat with a DDT!



Dylan wraps the chain around Havok’s neck and begins to drag him to the nearest corner. He tags the corner and begins to make his way to the next corner as Havok tries desperately to break away from Dylan’s grasp.



TOMMY ONIONS: Looks like a long drag to the end.



JOSEPH GREER: Havok is trying to get himself free still.



Dylan makes it to the second corner and tags it. He pulls Havok up again, who is looking rather blue in the face by now. Instead of trying to get the chain from around his neck, Havok tries for a different tactic in grabbing a low claw!



This move gets Dylan to release Havok and back away to get free of the claw move. Eddie takes the chain from around his neck and slowly rises to his feet while regaining his breath.



Havok sees Dylan walking back toward him and quickly yanks the chain upward to hit another low blow! Dylan doubles over in pain and Havok leaps at the corner to hit a springboard leg drop to the back of Dylan’s head to send him to the mat.



Havok wraps the chain around his fist, belting Dylan in the side of the head as he starts to rise. He throws the chain down on the side of Dylan’s head and delivers a swift kick to the chain!



JOSEPH GREER: Christ! That was a solid kick!



TOMMY ONIONS: I wonder if we could have Havok as World Champion?



HUNTER VALENTYNE: That’s the funniest fucking thing I heard all night!



TOMMY ONIONS: What?



Hunter Valentyne steps over the railing, taking the seat next to Tommy Onions, and putting a headset on.



HUNTER VALENTYNE: That someone decided to call Eddie Havok the Future of RSW is the most {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} thing that I have ever heard of.



Havok grabs the chain where it’s hooked to Dylan and touches the corner that he’s nearest. He begins trying to drag Dylan toward another corner when the champion gets to his feet, blood covering the side of his face. He yanks all of the slack from the chain, jerking Havok backwards to a big boot to the head!



Dylan whips Havok into a corner, following up with a powerful avalanche! A quick grab to the chain and Dylan tags the third corner.



HUNTER VALENTYNE: One more corner and the Future is fucking toast.



TOMMY ONIONS: I like toast.



HUNTER VALENTYNE: You would…{Mongo Edit: Fuck Off}.



JOSEPH GREER: Why does…maybe I don’t want to know.



Dylan pulls Havok out of the corner, whipping him toward the final corner. Havok doesn’t make it all the way across the ring, the slack in the chain going taut, and stopping him. Before he gets a chance to recover, Dylan hits a side kick to the gut and follows this up with an axe kick!



HUNTER VALENTYNE: That kick took the polish off of Havok’s mouth!



TOMMY ONIONS: What are you saying?



HUNTER VALENTYNE: I’m saying that kick knocked the fuckin’ Brit back into Havok’s mouth.



JOSEPH GREER: All very insulting.



Dylan hefts Havok up into a chokeslam position, tosses him into the final corner, and tags it!



BOB MOONEY: Winner of the match and still RSW World Heavyweight champion…Dylan Erickson!



Shawna Savate unhooks the two from the heavy chain as Dylan is being handed the World championship belt and celebrating in the ring. Havok rolls out of the ring, starting to slink to the back. He runs straight into Hunter Valentyne.



HUNTER VALENTYNE: Lemme tell you what I think of the Future of RSW…



A quick kick and Hunter hits a Valentyme onto the concrete floor! Hunter stands up, spitting on the back of the knocked out Havok before he heads to the back.



HUNTER VALENTYNE: Fucking {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} thinking he’s a future legend. I fucking kill myths.



Dylan sees the attack at ringside, but chooses to ignore the chaos as the fans cheer him on for his win.



JOSEPH GREER: Dylan still the champion, Hunter attacking Havok, and that’s all the time we have for you tonight! This has been Joseph Greer and-



TOMMY ONIONS: Sweet Tommy Onions. Good the fuck night!