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ReVolt; 09-14-07
Topic Started: Sep 16 2007, 03:39 AM (354 Views)
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

[align=center]The bass
The rock
The mic
The treble

I like my coffee black just like my metal

With the bass
The rock
The mic
The treble

I like my coffee black just like my metal 'cuz

I can't wait for you to knock me up
In a minute, minute
In a fuckin' minute

I can't wait for you to knock me up
In a minute, minute
In a second

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.

la la la oo~oh la la la oo~oh la la la oo~oh

The bass
The rock
The mic
The treble

I like my coffee black just like my metal

With the bass
The rock
The mic
The treble

I like my coffee black just like my metal 'cuz

I can't wait for you to knock me up
In a minute, minute
In a fuckin' minute

I can't wait for you to knock me up
In a minute, minute
In a second

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.

I don't find it funny right now
Right now
I want my m-m-m-money right now
Now
I'm on my way to the party right now
Right now

I don't find it funny right now
Right now
I want my m-m-m-money right now
Now
I'm on my way to the party right now
Right now

Because the break
The break
THE BREAK

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.

I can't wait for you to shut me up and make me
Hit my
BADASS

I can't wait for you to shut me up
SHUT. IT. UP.
[/align]

[align=center]
Posted Image

Copyright 2007, Full Intensity Wrestling in associate with Sporkco. Studios[/align]
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

JH: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to another edition of Friday Night ReVolt! I’m Jonathon Hitchen, and…

CL: I’m Constance Loire, yeah, yeah, yeah, and the douche bag next to me is…

CM: The wonderful, the brilliant, the beautiful, the talented and very not a douche bag…Chip Martin!

JH: Erm, right…

CL: You are such a douche bag.

CM: I am not!

JH: In either case, we are kicking things off in a huge way! As Prime is returning to in-ring action against Robert Black!

CL: Nice pun, Hitchen.

CM: …I don’t get it.


MA: Ladies and gentlemen the following is the opening bout of this edition of Friday Night ReVolt and is one fall to a finish. The General Manager has granted it a fifth teen minute time limit and the official for this bout is Richard Kelly!


As the beginnings of Doom begin to ooze through the speakers of the arena the lights quickly die down to nothing save for the quick, spaced-out flashes of white that fill the arena. Once the opening guitar strums and wheezes of audio fill the arena with still no sight or change of lighting, the camera zooms around the crowd watching as penlights, lighters and other sources of light begin to spark up from the crowd and staff attempting to break the darkness in their personal spaces – attempting to see anything below.

Drums sound and pick up the pace. As they play, white lights along both sides of the walkway slowly pop up two-by-two down the row. Once they all light, they wait in the lower position only illuminating the walkway as if waiting for something…

The sound sucks back into the speakers and then pounds back out in the form of the heavy guitars, drums and effects that create Doom by Nine Inch Nails. The lights on either side of the stage suddenly jerk up illuminating the entire walkway while two firework pyros on either side of the entrance explode setting of a chain reaction down both sides of the stage and a man emerges with amazing intensity from the curtain of the entrance. The man was Robert Black. With continued intensity he jumps and screams and interacts with the crowd as he moves down the walkway, attempting to fire them up in any way possible and the screams become so loud the music is barely heard. When he finally makes it to ringside a spotlight follows him as he works his way all the way around high-fiving, shaking the hands of and fist pounding with fans before finally climbing onto the ring edge and stepping over the top rope into the ring, where he continues his non-stop intensity as the music enters a heavy brooding rift. Now, two spotlights figure-eight the ring as he wanders looking at all the fans and climbing on each ring post and flexing. He then climbs onto a random ring rope to look out and scream a little more before moving back to center ring, taking his shirt off and throwing it out of the ring, and waiting for the match to start.



MA: Introducing first, he hails from Portland, Oregon, and weighs in tonight at three hundred and fifth teen pounds and stands at six feet and eight inches…HE! IS! RRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOBERRRRRRRRRRRRRRT BLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAACK~!!!


The arena plunges into darkness as "O Fortuna" gongs in and rings out all around the arena. All attention, cinemagraphically speaking, is drawn to the ReVoltrons which both present a video that puts Prime in a masterpiece light. In this video package he poses in and out of shadows, flexing in flickers of white light and then the choir culminates into the final chord…

[align=center]YEAAAA![/align]

Saliva's "I Walk Alone" rocks the PA as the afore mentioned darkness now gives way to a spectacular and celestial light show. The ReVoltrons now light up with Primes symbol bouncing and vibrating in and out of focus beneath a sheer static overtone. Prime walks out onto the stage with his head hung...

[align=center]I WALK ALOOOONE![/align]

Standing before the capacity crowd, Prime reels back and pops off a shouting Triple H pose into the Randy Orton “Legend Killer” pose but modified into more of a flex and grin. A machine gun pyro effect fires all around Prime through the chain link fencing as he holds his pose. The pyro smoke intentionally consumes his body and he soon burst through the smoke all pumped up, shouting, and ready to go. He makes his way confidently to the ring, eyeing his opponent the whole time. With ease, he leaps up onto the apron and all four posts and four matching ceiling sets burst in a sparkling white flare. Prime ducks between the ropes and heads right to the turnbuckle. Once he stands on the middle rope, Prime throws out his "Prime pose" once again and then leaps backward off the turnbuckle and bounces to warm up before his match.


MA: And introducing his opponent, he hails from San Diego, California and weighs in tonight at three hundred and ten pounds and stands at six feet and six inches…And, he is making his return to Full Intensity Wrestling competition…HE! IS! PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMMMME~!!!


Richard Kelly checks and pats down both men thoroughly for any kind of foreign objects and then explains the rules to both. With that now out of the way he helps Michael Anderson out of the ring and then calls for the bell, Timmy hitting the bell upon this command.


[align=center]DING DING DING~!!![/align]


Right at the sound of the bell the rookie charges out of his corner and makes a dash for the returning wrestler. Only for Prime to see it coming and scoop him up, lifting him up over his head and over the head pressing the three hundred some thing man several times. The crowd cheers and claps this display of strength and let’s out a sympathetic noise when Black face plants face first from the Evolution of Excellence dropping him. Feebly he tries to get up to all fours, and the veteran sees an end to that by bolting forward and unleashes a soccer kick to the face! Some of the fans in the front row instead of grimacing watch as a face painted man in a crimson trench coat wheels in a cloaked wheelchair bound figure

JH: Prime Press to kick things off! And, that is followed right up by a kick to the mush!

CL: Looks like the big guy hasn’t missed a step in his absence.

CM: Meh, least he’s making quick work of that chump Black.

Stepping one leg over Robert Black’s limp body, the behemoth stands over him and balls his hands into a giant fist and brings them across Robert Black’s neck. Desperately the less experienced of the two tries to push his body up only to get a second axe handle to the neck. For good measure the Evolution of Excellence brings down a third axe handle, resulting in Black’s body in trembling in a spasm manner from the blow. Gingerly Prime kneels down and throws the rookie’s arms over his crouching knees, locking in the camel clutch!

CL: Talk about a fucking jobber.

CM: Job…er? What’s that?

JH: Prime could win it right here with this submission hold!

Arguably FIW’s best looking referee checks on Robert, who to his credit refuses to submit just yet. Instead he channels his strength and the mild support a few sections of fans are giving him and manages to pull the two of them slightly to the right, getting his foot under the ropes. The referee gets Prime to break the hold, and the big man steps away and allows the rookie to start to get to his feet, using the ropes to help him as he gasps and groans. Except that when he is merely needing to stand up straight, the Evolution of Excellence scoops him up and to the amazement of the fans performs a gutwrench neckbreaker! Casually Prime floats the two of them over and hooks the near leg, Richard Kelly drops down and begins the count!

CM: What was that?!

JH: I heard he had a new move called the Impact Play, I’d say that is it!


[align=center]1![/align]


CL: Not too shabby of a new signature move.

CM: It is complicated, and, least it isn’t a submission…


[align=center]2![/align]


JH: I’m not too sure that Robert can kick out after that, even after his strong showing.

CL: Strong show? What match were you watching?


[align=center]3~!!!


DING DING DING~!!!
[/align]


CM: Well, that was anticlimactic.

JH: Prime returns to the ring with just as much impact as last week!


MA: Here is your winner by pin fall…PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMME~!!!


On cue there is a standing ovation from the Chicago fans as Prime’s music blasts through the sound system. FIW’s Behemoth sitting up with a smile and Richard grabs his arm, raising it in victory and patting the returning big man on the back. As a sign of respect, Prime pats the dazed Black on the chest a few times before getting back up to his feet. The big man throws his fists into the air to a eruption of cheers, before bringing them down and making the infamous motion of a title belt around his waist and mouthing the words “Dual Crown”. Chicago’s fans’ reaction turns a bit mixed, a small pocket being more loyal to Xtreme Kitten while the majority just continue to cheer and be happy Prime’s back.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

[align=center]Short Results for Rory Von Drachenberg vs. Zesboca Devani

Results:
No Contest after Roxie ran in and destroyed the both of them with a steel chair.[/align]
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

MA: “The following match is a fatal four way, where the first person to get the pin or submission will win the match!”

“Cochise” by Audioslave begins to play. The lights on the crowd fade lower as the intro continues, but not completely off, leaving the path to the ring lit brightly. The main riff hits and there is a big, quick, explosion of pyro. Just afterwards Liam steps out from the back. He soaks up the atmosphere for a minute before continuing to walk down to the ring. His smile beams throughout the arena as he makes his way to the ring, and when he gets there jumps over the ropes turning round to look at the all of the crowd before picking a turnbuckle to ascend to thank the fans. The music fades, and Liam jumps back down to the canvas.

MA: “Introducing first; weighing two-hundred and seventeen pounds, and hailing from Cheltenham, England; LIAM MORTELL!!

As the music starts white flashing lights pan from left to right alternatively to the riff and just as the Song Kicks in 100% Jay Bain walks into sight through the curtains. Hundreds of white lasers spiral down on Jay Bain and then randomly scan across the fans. Bain waves his hands up and down beckoning the crowd to be loud and stand up, then paces to the ring with his head down displaying an excited look upon his face and slapping extended hands from the crowd. On approaching the ring he begins to take his Grey T-shirt off, wraps it in his right hand, turns to his right and throws it into the crowd. Bain lets out a huge sigh as he calms himself before leaping right foot first onto the apron followed by the left, as soon as both feet are there he turns 180 degrees in a fluid motion and places the left foot threw the ropes to the mat, bends over and follows with the right. White lights pulse on and off another collection of lasers flicker onto Bain as he stretches his arms while leaping up and down while turning around in a circle moving to the centre of the ring while looking at the fans.

MA: “And, weighing two-hundred and thirty-two pounds, from Hull in East Yorkshire, England. This is ‘One Hundred Percent’ JAY BAIN!!

The lights suddenly dim down as the voice of a lady sings over the top. The music is "Spitfire" by Prodigy.
[align=center]Ah Ah
Ah Ah
Ah Ah
Ah Ah
[/align]
Just then, the music picks up, as there is an explosion style pyro set off by the curtain. The crowd jump in shock, as the lighting turns to red searchlights rotating around the arena. There is smoke left from the explosion, and through it come the shadows of five people. The crowd start to boo. Just then, from behind the curtain walks out the Lord of Cambridgeshire himself, Sir Colbert Tottington, in his wrestling gear. He grins as the crowd boo, though Colbert is not paying attention, and instead starts to make his way down the ramp.
[align=center]If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire
If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire
If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire
If I was in World War Two they'd call me spit.
Fire Fire
[/align]
Colbert comes down to the ring, and slides in, then heads to the far turnbuckle. He climbs onto the second rope, and looks out to the crowd. Various insults are thrown at him, which are just purely ignored by Sir Colbert, enjoying the imaginary cheers that he hears in his mind. Colbert then waits for the match to begin.

MA: “Weighing two-hundred and forty pounds, and coming to us from Cambridge, Cambridgeshire, England. He is the current reigning FIW Flycore Champion; Sir COLBERT TOTTINGTON!!

[align=center]You Run Your Mouth, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
You Play Crazy, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
You Too Hyphy, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
You Act A Fool, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
You Wanna Shoot, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
Think You Cute, Imma Kick Yo' Ass
You Got Drink, Then Poor Me A Glass
I Get Drunk, And Imma Kick Some Ass[/align]

As "Kick Yo' Ass" pounds through the arena speakers and red stage lights pulsing to the music, Grant Rice bursts onto the stage, hand in the air proudly presenting the Revolution's hand sign to a roar from the crowd as they jump to their feet on sight of the Kansas City native. He lowers his arm as he quickly pops his neck on his way down the aisle. He reaches the ring, hoping onto the apron before entering between the ropes. Once in the ring, Grant heads to the corner where he hops up once again proudly displaying The Revolution hand sign with one hand as he points to the logo on his jersey with the other, flashbulbs washing over him. He quickly slides his jersey off and chucks it into the crowd, watching the females in the crowd fight over it before hoping down, ready to go.

MA: “And finally; weighing in at two-hundred and forty-eight pounds, from Kansas City, Missouri. He is the current reigning FIW Fighting Spirit Champion and a member of the Revolution; GRANT RICE!!

J.J. quickly goes around the ring, checking each man for foreign objects and collecting the Championship belts in the process.

JH: “Well, this should certainly be interesting. A four-way match between Liam Mortell, Grant Rice, Jay Bain and Colbert Tottington; two Champions, a former Champion and an up-and-comer. Not only that, but two potential challengers..”

CL: “I’ve noticed two things about this match that aren’t sitting right with me. Firstly, three of the guys here are English, provided you actually believe what Tottington has to say. And secondly, where is Lord General Mortimer Igneous?”

JH: “Yeah, his absence is rather conspicuous..”

CM: “If you must know, he’s on important business back in Cambridgeshire. Top secret beefeater business. Sir Tottington told me earlier today that he would be flying solo tonight..”

CL: “Should be interesting to see how he copes without his wingman..”


Happy with the four combatants, J.J. signals for the bell to get the match officially underway.

[align=center]==[/align]

With all four men in the ring, J.J. stands to one side as Jay Bain motions for someone to come at him. Liam and Grant look to one another, then at Jay and shrug, before advancing toward him. However, in surprising fashion, Colbert steps in front of the two men and holds his hands up, seemingly begging them to keep back.

CM: “Now, I’m smarter than the average wrestling fan, but I have absolutely no idea as to what Sir Tottington is up to..”

JH: “It’s almost as if he’s trying to protect Jay from himself. Jay was asking for someone – anyone – to bring the fight and Liam was quite happy to, as was Grant. Colbert doesn’t seem quite so willing..”


As Grant and Liam stare at Colbert in amazement, Sir Tottington again motions for the two to keep their distance, whilst Jay glances around in confusion. Jay grabs Colbert by the shoulder and turns him around, only for Colbert to motion for Jay to keep his distance as well. The United Center begins to fill with jeers as Colbert turns back around and motions for Liam and Grant to move to the far side of the ring, prompting J.J. to intervene. Colbert motions for J.J. to keep back as Jay spins him around again, prompting Sir Tottington to once again motion for Jay to keep his distance.

CL: “I’m completely lost now. Colbert seems to want everyone to stay an equal distance away from him. I don’t ever remember a Flycore Champion commanding such an overbearing presence..”

JH: “Me either. There has to be a reason behind all of this, but I have no idea what it is. And something tells me that Colbert doesn’t know either.

Jay throws his arms up in frustration as Colbert turns back to Liam and Grant, only to swing around and level Jay with a vicious clothesline, taking him down to the canvas. A bemused smile forms on the painted features of the man wearing a crimson trench coat in the front row.

CM: “Good God! Did you see that!? Jay Bain sure didn’t!”

CL: “That was one Hell of a set-up! With a clothesline like that, Jay Bain may just be out for the rest of that match. If he can find his head, there’s a possibility he can get back to the ring..”


Before Colbert can react, Liam rushes forward and catches Sir Tottington with a forearm to the temple, then grabs his left wrist and executes an Irish whip, sending him toward Grant Rice, who promptly drops down to the canvas. Colbert manages to jump over Grant and runs himself into the ropes. As Colbert rebounds, Grant scrambles to his feet and jumps up for a leapfrog, prompting Colbert to duck down under his opponent, only for Liam to floor him with a reverse elbow to the jaw. Liam quickly tries to lift Colbert back to his feet, only for Grant to nail him with a blistering knife edge chop to the chest, sending him staggering backward into the ropes. With Liam dazed, Grant grabs his left wrist and attempts an Irish whip, only to Liam to counter and wrench Grant’s arm around, pulling him into a body clutch, before dropping the Fighting Spirit Champion across his outstretched knee.

JH: “Well executed uranage backbreaker by Liam Mortell. And he has himself a great opportunity to get back into the running for the Fighting Spirit Championship in his match..”

CM: “And an equally great opportunity to slip into obscurity. Can you imagine if this Jay Bain kid beats him? Liam will retire in embarrassment. What’s more, imagine if Bain beats Rice or Sir Tottington? He’d actually be in line for a title shot..”

CL: “Scarier things have happened..”


Liam clutches at his left knee from the impact, then looks to make a cover on Grant, only for Colbert to catch him with a low dropkick to the ribs, sending Liam rolling out to the ring apron. Rather than make the pin attempt, Colbert pulls Grant up from the canvas and quickly clubs him across the back, causing Grant to drop to his knees. Colbert hooks Grant with a waistlock and hoists him up from the canvas, before driving him down for a kneeling powerbomb in the middle of the ring, straight into a pin attempt.
[align=center]ONE[/align]

CM: “Gutwrench powerbomb for the three count! It’s all over, just like that!”

[align=center]TWO
THR- KICK OUT!!
[/align]

CL: “This match is barely a minute old and, already, Grant Rice has taken some heavy punishment to the lower back. It’s not looking too good for the Fighting Spirit Champion, whereas the Flycore Champ is in control at the minute..”

JH: “But as we all know, in situations like this, you need eyes in the back of your head to actually be able to keep control. Liam or Jay could creep up behind and drop Colbert on his head with something big!”


Colbert quickly gets to his feet and pulls Grant up from the canvas, rocking him with a stiff European uppercut, before grabbing his left wrist and whipping him across to the far corner of the ring. With Grant dazed, Colbert rushes across the ring and lunges forward, driving his shoulder into Grant’s mid-section. Colbert uses the momentum to hoist Grant to a seated position on the top turnbuckle pad, then looks to climb the ropes, only for Jay Bain to grab him from the ring apron. As Jay attempts to hook Colbert in a front chancery, Sir Tottington breaks free and nails him with a European uppercut, causing him to slump to the canvas.

CM: “He can try, but Bain will never get any sort of advantage over Sir Tottington! He just isn’t in the same class as that man..”

CL: “You may think that. I’m not so sure that anyone else does..”


Again, Colbert looks to climb the ropes and rocks Grant with a forearm to the jaw as he reaches the second turnbuckle pad. As Colbert tries to hook Grant in a front chancery, Liam pulls himself up on the apron and climbs the ropes to the left of Sir Tottington, then nails him with a left jab to the ribs, slightly dazing him. Grant rocks Colbert with a brutal headbutt to break his grip, then grabs hold of the ropes as Liam dives forward and hooks Sir Tottington, driving him into the canvas with a sunset flip powerbomb whilst landing awkwardly himself. Rather than cover, Liam quickly shuffles into the corner, clutching at his left ankle as Grant quickly lunges from the top turnbuckle pad, driving his elbow into Colbert’s chest, before attempting a cover.
[align=center]ONE
TWO
THRE- NO!!
[/align]

JH: “Talk about close! That inadvertent double-team from Grant and Liam almost put Colbert Tottington down for the three. But the big story here is Liam now..”

CL: “Yeah, it looked like he took a nasty landing on that left leg. I think he may have injured his ankle by the looks of things there. And that can only spell disaster in a match like this..”


Whilst J.J. checks on Liam, Jay scrambles through the ropes and quickly glances around to asses the situation. As Grant tries to get to his feet, Jay rushes forward and grabs hold of Grant’s head, driving him face-first into the canvas. Jay quickly pulls Grant back to his feet, then grabs his left wrist and looks to whip him to the near corner, only to catch Grant with a low dropkick to the knee, sending him face-first into the middle turnbuckle pad.

CL: “That was different. Jay Bain looks to be trying to bust up the face of Grant Rice, which is a strange tactic in itself..”

CM: “Not too often you get someone working on the face. Normally, it’s because they’re jealous. In this case, neither man is anywhere near as attractive as Sir Tottington, so they must be fighting for last place..”


As Grant pulls himself up in the corner, Jay rushes forward and attempts an avalanching clothesline, only for the Fighting Spirit Champion to duck down and elevate Jay over the top rope to the apron. Jay quickly manages to get his footing and scales the turnbuckles, waiting for his opponent to turn around. As Grant turns, Jay dives forward from the top turnbuckle pad, landing a crossbody press, only for Grant to use the momentum and roll through to a lateral press. However, rather than attempt the pin, Grant gets to his feet and runs himself into the ropes, then rebounds and nails Jay with a low Yakuza kick to the face, sending him crumpling to the canvas. Grant stumbles around and checks the ring, then drops to the canvas and makes a lateral press on Jay for the pin attempt.
[align=center]ONE[/align]

JH: “What a kick! Grant Rice just took Jay Bain’s head off with the UZI!”

[align=center]TWO
THRE- KICK OUT!!
[/align]

CL: “How did Jay Bain kick out of that? He’s got Grant Rice’s boot print across his forehead! There’s no way he could have kicked out by choice; that had to be instinct!”

CM: “Some instinct. After a kick like that, he should have stayed down and enjoyed the ride to the hospital. A couple of days in bed with sponge baths would be like a nice vacation that the company pays for..”

JH: “Not a bad idea, I must say..”


Grant stumbles to his feet and adjusts his jeans, then pulls Jay up from the canvas and butterflies his arms behind his back, preparing for the C4. As Grant hoists Jay upright, Liam stumbles across and grabs Jay’s feet, forcing him back down to the apron, before flooring Grant with an awkward clothesline. Liam limps gingerly on his left leg, then pulls Jay up from the canvas and hooks his right arm, before turning into Jay and executing a Ippon Seoinage. Clearly in pain, Liam drops to the canvas and clutches at his ankle as Colbert slowly gets to his feet on the far side of the ring.

JH: “It really isn’t looking too good for Liam right now!”

As Liam attempts to get back to his feet, Colbert hooks him in a front chancery, only for Liam to suddenly hoist him up from the canvas and quickly spin around, before driving Sir Tottington down with a vicious spinebuster. Liam quickly crawls into a lateral press on Colbert, pinning his shoulders to the canvas.
[align=center]ONE
TWO
[/align]
Before the three count can be made, Grant pulls Liam off of Colbert by his left leg and quickly applies an ankle lock. Liam desperately grits his teeth to fight the pain, but quickly submits and slaps the canvas in defeat.

[align=center]==[/align]

The PA kicks into life with “Kick Yo’ Ass” for the second time as Grant instantly releases the hold on Liam. As Liam rolls onto his back, clutching at his ankle, J.J. checks on his status, then motions toward the back for medical assistance.

MA: “Your winner, by submission; the Fighting Spirit Champion, GRANT RICE!!

Unwilling to celebrate, Grant kneels down next to Liam and tries to help him up as two medics rush down the ramp toward ringside. As the medics climb into the ring, J.J. tries to get Grant to keep his distance, only for Jay to stir and attempt to check on Liam himself.

JH: “Grant Rice with a strong showing and the victory in his back pocket. I can’t say I blame him for doing it, but using that ankle lock on an injured man is only going to make things worse..”

CM: “Hardly worse. If anything, Rice has managed to kill two birds with one stone. He’s eliminated one potential challenger and, well, he’s just eliminated Liam Mortell in general. His old legs are giving in on him..”

JH: “I can’t see that being the case. I’m pretty sure it was the result of Liam’s sunset flip powerbomb earlier in the match. We both mentioned it, Constance, but I’m certain Liam injured himself when he landed..”

CL: “Don’t bring me in to defend you. I saw Liam land awkwardly, but I’m not going to try and argue with Chip. Lord knows he won’t actually listen to anything we have to say, so I’m going to save my breathe..”

CM: “Sometimes, you’re a smart man..”


The Chicago crowd begin cheering as Jay and Grant lead Liam under the bottom rope to the apron, then help him to his feet at ringside. As Jay and Grant help Liam toward the back, flanked by the medics and J.J., Colbert gets to his knees in the ring and pounds the mat with his fist..

A quick burst of static flashes on the screen before cutting to blackness for a brief second. The scene fades back up to a view from what looks like a home video camera. The timestamp at the bottom right corner of the screen reads “Wed. 3/10/82”. The setting of this video is the backyard of a rather large house. The camera pans around for a bit before centering on a small child of about two years old seated on the grass playing with some toys. A man’s voice calls out the child’s name, “Conor!” The child looks in the direction of the camera, a smile plastered on his face from ear to ear. The child drops the toy in his hand and tries to stand, his legs wobbling a bit as he does so. After gaining his balance the child walks over to the camera, reaching for it to try and grab a hold of it. Suddenly another flash of static appears and the image cuts away to a different one.

Now as the camera fades in again we see that the timestamp in the corner reads “Sat. 5/13/89”. Centered in its view we see a group of kids and their parents all crowded around a large table, a big square cake with 10 candles situated on the table. In the center of this crowd stands a young boy with a birthday hat on his head and a big smile on his face. He looks up at the camera and waves as we hear the last few parts of the birthday song being sung by the crowd.


Crowd:…Happy Birthday to you…Happy Birthday dear Conor…Happy Birthday to you!

With that, the child takes in a breath of air and blows out all the candles on the cake. All the children around begin to cheer loudly but suddenly the image is cut short once again with another burst of static. Following this, the view is now in a very dimly lit room with nothing in it but a wooden crate in the center, a small bowl placed next to that as well as a small jug of water. In the corner of the room, a small boy sits sobbing with his arms on his knees and his head down. In the left of the screen we see a man holding a large leather strap stepping out of the room and slamming the door behind him. The camera focuses on the boy, his head still buried in his arms and the sobs now growing louder. Along with this image we hear a gruff voice speaking.

Voice: Forsaken as a child…by those who gave me life…an air of innocence now permanently vanquished. Soon redemption will be mine…I will be forsaken no longer!

The image stays on the boy in the corner of the room but the picture suddenly becomes distorted. The entire picture is overlaid with a red color and it begins to scramble before one last bust of static causes it to disappear to blackness once again as we fade out.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

MA: The Following Ultimate Endurance Contest is Scheduled for One Fall, until one man either submits or can fight no longer!!!

The Drake Love entrance video begins to roll on the Global-Tron as AFI's Prelude 12-21 begins to blare over the PA system.

[align=center][dohtml]<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hr5pPcgW5uc"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hr5pPcgW5uc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="444" height="350"></embed></object>[/dohtml][/align]

[align=center]This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise to depart just promise one thing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
[/align]

MA: Introducing first, from Denver, Colorado; weighing in tonight at Two hundred and Eighty Five pounds… DRAAAAAAAAKE LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEEEEE

Drake steps out onto the entranceway wearing his custom cloak. It is jet black and the tail drapes all the way to the top of his boots. It has a simple hood which is pulled up as Drake steps out onto the entraceway. Drake hangs his head down low and stands still on the stage.

[align=center]This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promised you my heart just promise to sing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
[/align]

Drake shoots out his left arm sending a spray of pyros rippling down his left side. Drake keeps the left arm extended before shooting out his right arm which also ignites a stream of pyros exploding in a line. Drake then raises both arms high into the air and pyros erupt from both sides, this time all at once instead of the streams as before.

[align=center](Oh-uh, Oh-uh,
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
(Oh-uh, Oh-uh)
[/align]

Drake flips off the hood and proceeds down the rampway. Drake ignores the fans on his way down but instead stays focused on the ring and his task ahead.

[align=center]This is what I thought, I thought you’d need me.
This is what I thought, so think me naive
I'd promised you a heart, you'd promise to keep.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
[/align]

Drake enters the ring and stands in the center. Drake's face becomes a mask of cold fury as he removes the cloak and prepares to go to war.

[align=center](Oh-uh, Oh-uh, )
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
(Oh-uh, Oh-uh,
Kiss my eyes and lay me to...sleep.
(Oh-uh, Oh-uh)
[/align]

The house lights dim and slowly a set of frosted glass doors are lowered over the wrestlers entrance as a tuxedo clad man makes his way onto the concrete stage with microphone in hand. Suddenly bright white lights kick up behind the doors only to reveal the man on the stage further. He pulls the microphone to his lips as Ladies and Gentlemen by Saliva begins to play over the PA system. The man begins to speak over the opening lyrics of the song.

Man: “Ladies and gentlemen please…Would you bring your attention to me?”

As the crowd fixes their attention on the man a silhouette appears in the light and the man continues to speak over the lyrics of the song.

Man: “For a feast for your eyes to see. An explosion of catastrophe.”

At the base of the stairs leading to the isle to the ring, a massive white explosion bursts out startling the crowd. The man again continues to speak over the song as he moves in putting a hand on the door handle covering the entrance.

Man: “Like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Watch closely as I open this door. Your jaws will be on the floor. After this you’ll be begging for more.”

The man then pulls both doors open and the lights behind the glass dim down as two large spot lights focus in on the entrance and he quickly exits the stage as Ethan Adams clad in his entrance robe is revealed. The superstar steps out onto the concrete stage holding his arms out to his side as the song kicks in.

[align=center] Welcome to the show
Please come inside
Ladies and gentlemen
[/align]

Ethan steps slowly out toward the steps and explosions erupt from the ring cascading to the steps as he tears his robe off and throws it into the crowd with a thunderous approval from the crowd. One lucky fan sitting isle side grabs the robe as Ethan makes his decent down the steps and slaps hands as he makes his way to the ring.

[align=center]Boom
Do you want it?
Boom
Do you need it?
Boom
Let me hear it
Ladies and gentlemen
[/align]

As Ethan approaches the ring several flash bulbs light up his muscular body as ringside fans snap photos. He then turns to the edge of the ring and leaps up onto the ring apron catching himself with the top ropes.

MA: “Now entering the ring from Beverly Hills, California and weighs in at 211 pounds…..’The First Wonder of the World’ Ethan Adams!!!”

[align=center]Boom
Do you want it?
Boom
Do you need it?
[/align]

Adams then sling shots himself over the ropes flipping over and landing on his feet inside the ring as the crowd applauds him and his music dies down and he moves into his corner counts to three under his breath and storms in right on the Bell!!!

[align=center]Ba-Ding!!![/align]

JH: And we’re away! The recently deposed FSC against the man whose fault his deposing lies with, and Right Out Of The Gate, Ethan Adams is taking it to him! Clubberin’ Away like he was the Nasty Boyz!

CM: Which one?

JH: Both Of Them! They Be Clubberin’!

The smaller Adams cares not for the height difference, or the weight difference or the style difference, after an early kick to the gut, The First Wonder of World, before even the Great Pyramid of Giza - despite the latter being thousands of years older – flails away at Drake Love’s back until the Smash-mouth part of Smash-mouth Submission comes into play with the rather predictable fist to the face.

CL: Well that’s over. It’s good, because I’m not sure how much more Drake’s Spine could take of that…

CM: ARRRGGGGHH!!! I thought we were past that!!!

Career Killer Drake’s fist is not enough to keep the man who barely a week ago joined the ranks of FIW Superstars Graver, Jim O’Brien, Samael, and that punk with the white hair as Former Fighting Spirit Champions, and in keeping with that fine tradition, stands up and carries on, with the flailing and the smacking and the general fiery onslaught. Drake Love cannot be bothered putting up with the irritating flea buzzing around him, and belts him in the face once more.

CM: And already Drake’s tried of playing with Ethan Adams, and wants some new toys.

JH: So much for good clean Fighting Spirit…

CL: Bollocks to that. He’s throwing stuff into the ring: I see a chair, a table, a trash can full of stuff, a kendo stick…

CM: Who the hell keeps a Kendo Stick under the ring?

That is one of the mysteries of the universe. There are also various traffic signs in there as well. There would probably be more, if not for Ethan Adams collapsing Drake with a Tornillo! Drake, cut off from his toys isn’t best pleased, and the literal kicking he’s taking from Adams isn’t helping his mood. Using the guard rail to brain the man is probably only making it worse, and eventually Fuzz has to throw him off in order to read Love his rights.

[align=center]One! Two!! Three!!![/align]

I didn’t literally mean his rights; I meant a ten count. It’s not long before Adams gets back to the ring where CKD stashed all that stuff and starts launching it at his prone form.

[align=center]Four! Five!! Six!!![/align]

JH: Disqualify him! Referee Violence, right there!

CM: What, for lobbing a Stop Sign up Fuzz’s sizable rear end? Sweet Zombie Jesus; that should be worth 1,000 Points!

CL: With Fuzz’s ass that big? That’s five at most.

With Hitchen’s protestations ignored, since no disqualifications are in force in the match at all [although Fuzz breaks the count to make sure it was an accident, Adams holds his hands up in an unconvincing gesture that it was;] we carry on regardless, with Drake Love getting ready to brain someone, just as soon as he remembers who and where he is. He never does recover that knowledge, because he’s met with a Tope Con Hilo assisted by a chair held against Ethan’s back!

[align=center]One! Two!! Three!!![/align]

This count is for the two of them; Ethan Adams could have rolled right through the tope, if not for the guardrail, which sneaks up and connects with his once pretty face. Both are miles away as the count continues.

[align=center]Four! Five!! Six!!![/align]

A trickle of blood runs down Adams’ face as he hauls himself up. Drake Love is looking a little mangled as he rolls away, trying to find his feet in addition to the personal information he was after earlier on. He might know where and who he is by now, but he certainly has found his feet, along with a length of chain, and a steel trash can. This is matched against the First Wonder’s chair.

CL: So much fun stuff he could have picked, and he picks a chair. Everyone picks a chair.

CM: It makes a nice sound if you use it right though…

CL: You mean when a big hairy mountain man takes his chain and belts it into the fifth row?

So Adams has been divested of his weapon with what can only be described as Alacrity. And speaking of ‘nice’ noises, although there are much better adjectives to use to describe the sound of Drake Love setting the can on Adams’ head, slamming it into a ring post, and then whipping it with the chain, such as ‘nauseating’ ‘deafening’ or just plain ‘brutal.’

JH: Good… Sweet… Christ…

CL: You know what the best thing about this is? You can see the blood collecting in his navel! The Blood! The BLOOD!!!

JH: Actually, I am amazed that he can still stand under this insane assault!

CM: The word ‘insane’ is a little redundant when we’re talking about Drake, but yeah, he’s just taking these home-run type swings to where his face should be… And he stands up! This is more Testicular Fortitude than you’ve shown in your entire life, Bitchen, you know, what with your small…

JH: SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS!!!

In an explosion of blood, Ethan Adams finally tears off his steel prison, only to be whipped down for at least the sixth time. Fuzz tries to hold back Drake so that he can count out Ethan, but Drake shoves him out of the way for a Chain Wrapped Lariat!!!

[align=center]One! Two!! Three!!![/align]

The counts stops there as the Career Killer wraps the chain around his opponent’s throat and drags him up onto his shoulders and kicks away the protective mats on the floor. Keystone Crash.

JH & CM & CL:

There’s not much that can be said to that. Ethan Adams is all but gone. Half of the crowd is silenced, the other is braying for yet more blood, or counting along with Fuzz. It’s a brave struggle from the former FSC, but it’s all for naught…

[align=center]DINGDINGDING!!![/align]

MA: Here is your winner, by Knock Out… DRAAAAAAAAKE LOOOOOOOOVE!!!

AFI comes back over the speakers, as out of sheer force of habit, Ethan Adams tries to regain his vertical base, only to be met with a slight knee to the face to knock him back down. His warning to the fallen warrior is drowned out by someone wittering on about kicking ass and being hyphy, whatever that means…

CM: It’s the actual FSC! None of this fake ‘Former’ crap! The real thing, in the flesh, Grant Rice, and the belt! Ooh, atmospheric stare-down; blood-soaked challenger, gloating champion, what more do we need?

JH: EMTs for Ethan Adams?!?!?!

CL: Nah, he looks fine to me.

JH: You would say that…

And just like that, Drake leaves; making sure that Rice feels his shoulder on the way out of the ring, leaving him to raise the title for the approval of the crowd, rolling his eyes and making his own way away from the scene.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

MA: The following is a THREE WAY DANCE scheduled for one fall!

The super-funky ZZ Top-covered riff which, in the hands of Jun Kimura still sounds awesome, strikes up heralding the arrival of FIW's very own "Sharp Dressed Man" as the lights dim to allow spotlights to shine on the entrance cage, which as we speak is filling up with dry ice smoke.

MA: Innntroducing first, from Darkest, Louisiana, he is one half of the FIW World Tag Team Champions, the Tanaka Zaibatsu, weighing 215 pounds…MMMMISTAHHHH BLONNNNNDDDD!

[align=center]Clean shirt, New shoes,
And I don't know where I am going to.
Silk suit, Black tie,
I don't need a reason why-y-y-y!

They come runnin' just as fast as they can...
'Cause Every Girl's Crazy Bout a Sharp Dressed Man!
[/align]

The chorus ends, with three blasts of pyro in time with those last three words, clearing the smoke away to reveal a young man wondering what kind of hell the CO [size0]2 has played with his bleached blond hair, and he stops at the top for the ramp to fix his quiff with a comb he already had in his hands. Eventually, he's satisfied with the results and he confidently struts towards the ring, flicking the [autographed, obviously,] comb into the front row but before he can scale the ring steps, he orders one of the ring attendants to go up first to hold the ropes open for him. A small arguement ensues, but eventually the ring attendant relents and lets him through. Once in the ring, Blondie stretches in his corner as he waits for the bell.

[align=center]La........La........La....La Wait Till I Get My Money Right!
La........La........La....La Then You Can't Tell Me Nothing Right!

MA: His opponent, representing the Best Kept Secret, he hails from Houston, Texas and weighs 228 pounds, THE DYNAMO, SHAUUUUN WILSON!!!

The lights dim throughout the arena as Kanye repeats the lines accapella. He receives a mixed reaction throughout the arena as Shaun's music blasts. Shaun slowly steps out the curtains and stops right above the stairs.

I Had A Dream I Can Buy My Way To Heaven, When I Woke I Spent That On A Necklace.
I Told God I'll Be Back In A Second, Man It's So Hard Not To Act Reckless!


Shaun stares cockily at the crowd into the arena. He crosses both of his arms as white pyro rains down from the Revoltrons behind him. Once the pyro stops raining Shaun slowly takes off his hood and smirks as he jogs down the stairs. He nods his head to the song as he walks slowly down the aisleway. Clips of Shaun in action plays on the ReVoltrons.

I Feel The Pressure, Under More Scrutiny
And What I Do? Act More Stupidly!


Shaun nears the ring and takes off his hoodie and slings it into the nearby audience. Shaun continues to lip synch the words as he takes a couple of steps and hops up on the ring apron. Shaun turns and raises both arms in the air leaning on the top ropes. After taunting the crowd more he walks over to the turnbuckle and climbs it.

So If The Devil Wear Prada, Adam & Eve Wears Nada
I'm In Between, But Way More Fresher.
With Way Less Effort, Cuz When You Try Hard.......That's When You Die Hard!
Your Homies Looking Like Why God, When They Reminisce Over You My God!

The beat breaks down as the woman continues her chant as Shaun is perched above the top rope. He taps his chest and raises his arms still talking trash to him. Shaun finally climbs down and adjusts his wrestling gear.

Excuse Iz You Saying Something?
Un Uh You Can't Tell Me Nothing!
(Ha Ha) You Can't Tell Me Nothing!

La........La........La....La Wait Till I Get My Money Right!
La........La........La....La Then You Can't Tell Me Nothing Right!

Shaun bounces around the ring and gets ready for his opponents.
[/align]

All is quiet inside the arena for a few moments, until a familiar voice starts reciting a prayer which gets the fans to start going absolutely crazy, that familiar Depeche Mode intro that we remember from Chris Daniels' intro playing in the background.

[align=center]"And a Shepherd I shall be, for Thee my Lord for Thee.
Power hath decended forth from Thy hand,
that my feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
So I shall flow a river forth to Thee,
and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."
[/align]

MA: And finally, from County Wicklow, Ireland, weighing 231 pounds, THIS! IS! PRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEST!

Then, strangely, Priest's voice speaks alone, but both in a high and low tone giving him a very creepy and unearthly voice.

[align=center]"And I will execute great vengeance upon thee with furious rebukes; and they shall know that my name is PRIEST, when I shall lay my vengeance upon them."[/align]

All at once Skillet's "Savior" begins hammering the PA system, and Priest steps up onto the entryway, his hands folded in prayer as he surveys the crowd with gold coloured smoke swirling around him, and a proud smile crosses his fanged features. After a moment to take it all in, Priest makes his way towards the ring so smoothly he seems to be floating, being mindful to survey his fans from underneath his hood while the smoke continues to envelope the rampway and stage. Once he reaches the ring he rounds it, making sure to touch the hands of all of his Faithful in attendance, before climbing up on the apron and making a show of whipping his hood off, throwing a proud fist to the crowd who can now see his missing ear and his new hairstyle. He steps through the ropes into the ring after sufficiently getting the crowd pumped, he climbs up on the far turnbuckle and appeals to the crowd by opening his arms to welcome the cheers, balancing easily on the top rope, he climbs down and removes his robe, tossing that to the outside before heading to his corner, producing his flask of holy water, Priest pops it open and spills it onto his corner to grant him luck before waiting for the match to start as the smoke finally clears away.

CL: Well here we go with another riveting match from Wilson, Priest and Mr. Blond.

CM: Hey now, I actually like Blond.

JH: Hey all three men are talented competitors. I see this being a great match.

CM: Surprise, Hitchen is a neutered cat about a match.

JH: Eat me.

Wilson, Blond and Priest all stand off from one another a bit stand offish from one another. They eye each other’s slight movements as if trying to anticipate what the other men have on their minds. Finally Wilson makes a dash towards Priest with frightening speed. Before Blond can react, Wilson pivots shifting his line of direction and leaps into the air nailing Blond directly upside Blond’s skull with a Spinning Heel Kick. Priest gets involved preventing Wilson from reacting by hooking the off balanced Wilson by his head before spinning around driving his weight down with a Tornado DDT! Priest tries for a quick cover to end the match early!

[align=center]One

Two

Blond Breaks the Cover!
[/align]

Blond pulls Priest up nailing several quick shots to his back hoping to keep him off balance before a hook up. Blond leaps up wrapping his body around the upper portion of Priest before trying to fall backwards with a Crucifix Cradle Pinfall! Wilson though has other ideas as he rips Blond off and slams him into the mat hard. Wilson pulls him up looking for a Suplex attempt. Before he can flip Blond over though Priest leaps into the sky before implanting his boots into the jaw of Wilson with a Standing Dropkick. Unimpressed, the face painted man in the front row twirls his finger around in the air in front of him in a mocking manner.

JH: It seems as soon as one man tries to get some offense going the other man stops him cold.

CM: It is going to hard trying to neutralize both of your opponents especially with the talent of Shaun Wilson and Priest.

CL: I wonder if the new Britney Spears album is out.

Wilson stands up holding his jaw and gets directly into the face of Priest. The two men begin bickering between themselves screaming at the other. Blond meanwhile sneaks to the outside and climbs up to the top turnbuckle. Priest spots him out of the corner of his eye. When Wilson turns to see what Priest is looking at, Priest shoves Wilson into the turnbuckle! Blond goes tumbling to the outside and Wilson is stunned. With this break in the match, Priest turns it up a notch in going onto the assault of Wilson. When Wilson turns around holding his chest, Priest drops him onto the back of his head with an STO. Not stalling for even a mere second, Priest wraps his arms around the head and neck of Wilson before vising his legs across the ribcage completing the Buffalo Sleeper and Leg Scissor combo. Wilson is near the ropes but unfortunately not close enough. He stretches his arm as far as he can in an attempt to grasp the bottom rope. Blond recovering on the outside sees this and helps Wilson out by pushing the bottom rope into the ring allowing Wilson to grasp it.

CL: Ok I have seen it all. Blond just helped Wilson out.

CM: God you are a moron. If Wilson loses then Blond loses. It’s all about survival and nobody is smarter than a member of the Tanaka Zaibatsu.

JH: Well I don’t know about “anyone”. I can list quite a few people right here on the roster smarter than those two fools.

CM: Blasphemy!

The ref forces Priest to break the hold. Priest stands up a bit upset about breaking the count and stands up to talk to the ref. However he is interrupted when Blond yanks his feet out from under him. Blond pulls him out of the ring roughly and then proceeds to very nicely introduce Priest to his friend the ring steps. Blond doesn’t even take the time to watch Priest’s head bounce off the solid steel as he rolls into the ring. Wilson is groggily trying to get to his feet as Blond stalks him. Blond tries to lock on a Side Headlock but Wilson is able to shove him off into the ropes. When Blond comes back around Shaun spins Blond like a bad Ferris wheel for a Tilt-A-Whirl Backbreaker. Somehow mid-spin Blond has the aim enough to stab Wilson in the eyes forcing him to release him mid-spin. Blond lands awkwardly but it is still better than getting draped over Wilson’s knee.

JH: You call that being talented? I call that being cheap.

CM: And I call you a moron.

Priest rolls back into the ring ready to continue the fight and Blond is there to meet him. Wilson is trying to get his vision back while blond and Priest lock up. Blond slides under the legs of Priest and pops up with amazing speed. Like a crazed banshee, Blond leaps up trying to lock on the Choker Sleeper. Somehow Priest is able to spin out of the hold and kick Blond in the gut. He pulls Blond inbetween his legs looking for the Prophecy. Blond is able to counter by shoving Priest away and off-balance. Priest turns bumping into a still blinded Wilson. Out of instinct Wilson hooks Priest up dropping him with the Backcracka! Wilson stumbles back trying to rub his eyes but meanwhile Blond leaps down on Priest for the cover!

[align=center]One

Two

Three!
[/align]

MA: Here is your winner by pinfall; Mr. Blond!

JH: Well Blond picks up the win by scrupulous means, what a surprise.

CM: Hey a win is a win.

CL: Wait, is it over?

JH: Please just stop talking.

Daisuke comes out on stage applauding his tag team partner as Blond rolls out quickly. Wilson is finally able to see and looks around the scene in confusion. Blond gets up to the rampway with a smile and Daisuke gives him a reassuring pat on his back. Shaun looks up on the stage disgruntled about the transgressions which have just occurred. Priest though is angry about the situation in a whole different way as we see him take out his aggressions on Wilson. The stiff kick from behind sends Wilson sprawling from the ring to the outside. Priest rolls to the outside and tries to go for a right hand. Wilson is able to block the punch and grabs Priest throwing him into the crowd. Wilson leaps over the guardrail to continue on but Priest catches him with a right hand mid-air. The two men continue to brawl though the fans back and forth.

The words "Gift Giving: Ninja Style to be continued...now" appear over the black screen before fading back in. It brings the FIW viewers back to the locker room scene involving their sweetheart and her part time tag partner. Ninja looks like he is frowning a little through the cloth and maybe a little amused at how she's come to this conclusion. Or, maybe he found the second comment some how amusing, whatever the reason it remains unknown.

Extreme Ninja #2: You are wrong actually Jaime, Kiyoshi only used to be friends with the Tanaka Zaibatsu.

The words "used to be" seem to be stressed just to further get across the point.

Extreme Ninja #2: After he saw how they acted, he decided to no longer try to put up with them and be friends with them.

Taking a step forward, he pats the Hellcat Champ on the shoulder and tries to give off the aura of reassurance to her, even with the veil.

Extreme Ninja #2: So, you see? There's nothing to worry about with Kiyoshi, he is some one we can trust and is a good person. Also, he is one of the top contenders for the Dual Crown Championship and that should account for some thing.

All Ninja gets for a reaction is a blink from Jaime, her mind clearly weighing their options...or wondering if she can convince them to wear matching outfits for the match.

Jaime: But... hasn't XK beaten him like every time?

Whether this is merely an innocent question or it is her being a little ruthless in teasing their third wheel, who knows. Hard to tell considering she smiles and giggles a bit, grabbing the FIW Hellcat Division Championship in her hand. The second generation Extreme Ninja looking on a bit dumb struck by the question and trying to think of how to respond to it.

Jaime: Besides, being a contender is one thing but being a champion is completely different. Like me!

She smiles proudly and throws the Hellcat Championship over her shoulder, not giving EN #2 a chance to even explain why Kiyoshi couldn't fight for it. A mild giggle fit later and she playfully punches the referee turned wrestler in the arm. Resulting in him flinching a bit and rubbing his arm where she just punched him, maybe a bit too hard than she realized. One thing she has realized, or maybe thinks is a possibility, is that her running down Kiyoshi might be offending her new friend. So she throws a hand up, as if to halt anything he might say.

Jaime: But, but, but! If you think he's good enough to trust and team with I guess I can put up with having a thirdie for this match.

Suddenly getting a secretive look on her face, she leans into Ninja to get nice and intimate. Making Extreme Ninja #2 a bit uneasy at first, unsure of what she's doing until...she brings a hand up to her mouth and cups it.

Jaime: He might be able to take care of that weird kid on Hutch's team for us, I heard he's a vampire!

Nodding knowingly, Miss Lee looks into the baby blues of her team mate with a serious look on her face. Ninja's features on the other hand relax a bit and he chuckles nervously, obviously knowing the truth of Phyllis Bathory.

Extreme Ninja #2: Yeah, so I've heard...

Satisfied with his response, Jaime stands back straight again and as quickly as the last look came, she starts to smile again.

Jaime: So! What was that other reason you came?!

There is a hint of excitement in her voice and it knocks EN #2 out of his thought process, looking like a deer in headlights.

Extreme Ninja #2: Excuse me?

Even with this minor set back Jaime retains her happy nature and repeats herself.

Jaime: Earlier, you said you came here for another reason than strategizing, and planning...or whatever...

It would seem by her trailing off and expression that whole matter is still a bit puzzling to her. She shakes it off quickly and returns to eagerly looking towards Ninja, who is remembering why he came to begin with.

Extreme Ninja #2: Oh, right...

Carefully he reaches into his jeans' pocket and pulls some thing out that both his hands are covering. He brings it in front of Jaime and him, and opens his hands to a amazed gasp from the Hellcat Div Champ.

Jaime: Where'd you find it?!

There is a mild shrug of Ninja's shoulders at this question and he answers nonchalantly.

Extreme Ninja #2: At a mall we were near by last week, do you like it?

Near immediately after he manages to finish the question there is squeal from Jaime and she clasps her hands over his.

Jaime: I love it! It's so adorable!

The camera pans around to finally reveal the gift, it is a white plushie of a kitten. To be more precise, it is a white kitten with a overly large head in a near Japanese style and greatly resembles the kitten designs on the Hellcat belt. For a moment Ninja merely stands there, staring at Jaime's and his own hands with a slight flush to his face before clearing his throat.

Extreme Ninja #2: I got it for you because I saw the segment involving Miss Hunter last week and what she said. I just wanted it to be a token of my friendship for you, so you know that you will always have it. That if you ever need some one to talk to or hang out with, no matter what it is, I'll be willing to do so. So, my bottom line is that I'll always be there for you and I'd never leave you to the wolves like she suggested.

The joy of the gift and these words seem to fill Jaime up to the breaking point, and she hugs the masked man in front of her. Ninja nearly drops the plushie from being caught off guard by it and by Jaime's head now beside his chest. Though he eases into the hug a bit and pats her on the back gently as she looks up to him with a grin.

Jaime: Thanks Ninja! That was thoughtful of you!

The camera pans slightly again to reveal that peaking through the door is Extreme Ninja #3, still with the carpet partially up over him. By the looks of it, he seems to think his fellow ninja has "scored" pretty well. Though, lucky for him, the camera cuts to else where before either of the other two can notice his presence...
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

[align=center]CALL ME THE AMERICAN NIGHTMARE
CALL ME THE AMERICAN DREAM
CALL ME YOUR SOUL CORRUPTED
CALL ME ANYTHING YOU NEED!
[/align]

The lights cut out immediately after Rob Zombie begins screaming the lyrics of "The Great American Nightmare", causing the crowd in attendance to cheer as loud as they possibly can which pretty much deafens anyone within a 5 mile radius. Dark purple strobes and searchlights begin to assault the entire arena now, as the fans' eager attention turns to the stage which has been pretty much engulfed in purple smoke. After a few moments which seem like forever to the rabid fans in the audience, the smoke disperses just enough to allow the fans to focus on the hulking form of Nightmare standing tall and defiant in the entryway, the blazing strobes giving the Prince of Pain a very ghoulish look. After a moment his head raises, surveying the crowd with intensity and pride in his eyes.

MA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and is a NO-DISQUALIFICATION match for the UNDIPSUTED INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! On his way to the ring at this time, he hails from Portland, Oregon, weighing 275 pounds and representing the RRRRRREVOLUTIONNN, HE IS FIW'S PRINCE OF PAIN, THIS! IS! NIGHTMARE!!!!!

[align=center]YEAH, MOTHERFUCKER!
YEAH! WHO DO YOU LOVE?
YEAH, MOTHERFUCKER!
WHO DO YOU LOVE, YEAH!
[/align]

They linger for a few moments, enjoying the smoke, until Nightmare starts toward the ring, the crowd banging on the rails to the beat of the heavy-metal music. Nightmare tags hands with his fans until he reaches the ring, then he enters the ring and climbs the turnbuckle, flexing for the crowd as flashbulbs pop photographs all over him, until he gets off the buckle, going to the other corner and jumping up so he can raise the Revolution 'R' handsign to the crowd, slamming it against his heart, then he goes to one more corner and raises the double devil horns, soaking in the adulation of the crowd before stepping off the buckle, taking off his coat and dumping it to the outside, testing the ropes as he gets ready to go.

Sun shine lollipops and rainbows everything is wonderful is what I feel when we're together!
Brighter than a lucky penny
when y*u hear the raindr*ps disap*ear* de*r and I fe*l so *ine just *o k*ow t**t yo* are mine!


The slow opening of Blood, milk, and sky signals for the lights to slowly die down until there is nothing but a flashing strobelight facing the entrance.

The siren sings a
Lonely song of all the
Wants and hungers
of all the
Wants and hungers


After moments when the music starts to pick up, Crackerjack moves onto the stage slowly and stands at the stages’ edge right at the stairs. Looking down to the left, Crackerjack suddenly jerks his head to the right to get a full glance in that direction. Moving forward again slowly, Crackerjack makes his way down the three steps one at a time.

Empty
Winds scrape on the
Soul - but never stop
To realize -
but never stop
To realize


MA: And his opponent, from the back alleys of NEW YORK CITY… he is your UNDISPUTED INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION… CRRRRRRACKERJAAAAAAACK!!

In a sort of sideways fashion, Crackerjack walks down to the ring not removing his gaze from it. Of course, it’s hard to tell with the mask, but it’s safe to assume. Just as Crackerjack reaches up for the ropes, the entire arena goes black for maybe three seconds, five tops. When all lights are back on, Crackerjack stands in the middle of the ring staring back at the entranceway as the song has skipped the second verse and gone into the chorus, still standing in a half sideways manner.


[align=center]Dingdingdingdingding![/align]

Nightmare rushes out of the gate with a series of hard forearm strikes, surprising Crackerjack and backing him toward the corner! Before Jack can react, Nightmare NAILS him with a spinning backfist that sends him reeling into the turnbuckle!

JH: Nightmare’s really putting the boots to Crackerjack, and you know that’s taking the bigger man off-guard.

CL: Technically he’s putting the arms to him, Hitchen. Boots would be kicks.

JH: Oh, hush.

Nightmare continues the assault with a series of elbow shots finally ending with a few steps back to gain momentum for a--NO! Crackerjack moves forward, shoving Nightmare in the chest as he does. Night blinks at him, then gets BOWLED OVER BY A STANDING CLOTHESLINE!!

CL: LARIATTOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!

JH: I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more lariats before the match is over!

CM: Oh, yeah, me too. Whoooo. I don’t see how you guys can get so excited over an arm to the face. Boobs to the face, sure, but an arm?

Crackerjack stutters to a stop and puts his head on a swivel, surveying the booing crowd. He lifts Nightmare by the hair and drags him to his feet before WRENCHING his arm forward for an Irish whip toward the ropes. Nightmare rebounds and HOPS over Crackerjack’s back body drop attempt!

JH: Jesus! I bet Jack wasn’t expecting that!

CM: Nobody expects Jesus. He’s like the Spanish Inquisition!

Nightmare hits the opposite ropes and comes back for more, catching Crackerjack just as he stands up and turns around with a--

JH: HIGH KNEE TO THE FACE!!!

CL: Few things will ruin your day more than being that close to Nightmare’s genitals.

Crackerjack goes down to the mat and Nightmare slides over him in a lateral press. Logan Black drops in for the count…


… but no! Crackerjack shoulders out before Logan can even get a hand down!

JH: You just can’t keep a big man like Crackerjack down that quick. Nightmare’s gonna have to do a whole hell of a lot more to win this one.

CL: Like maybe take a three month vacation for repackaging…

Nightmare grabs Crackerjack by the mask to haul him to his feet, but Jack has different plans that mostly involve hitting Night in the abs. Crackerjack gets to his feet of his own accord and stares at Nightmare for a second, who seems to be motioning for a test of strength.

CL: You have GOT to be fucking kidding me…

Jack tilts his head to the side like a curious bird before rearing his arms back and CRACKING them against Night’s ribs!

CL: KOOOOSAAAGAAAAA!!!

Nightmare crumples downward, holding his body as Jack shakes his head. He takes a few steps forward, then DROPS AN ELBOW INTO NIGHTMARE’S STERNUM---NO!! Nightmare rolls out of the way and Crackerjack tastes canvas… or he would, if his elbow had a tongue. Or I suppose if it were just covered in taste buds.

JH: Not too far of a fall for most of our wrestlers, but Crackerjack just made a dent in the mat, I think!

CL: You fool, you can’t dent plywood.

CM: Sure you can, I saw it on MythBusters.

CL: They did a myth about denting plywood?

CM: No, actually, I don’t know what it was about. I had it on mute so I could just check out that Kari Byron chick--

JH: Hello? Match? Commentators? Thank you.

Nightmare gets to his feet and waits on Crackerjack to rise to CHARGE forward, raising his arm with a lariat--

JH: NIIIGHTMARE-LIIIIIINE!!!

NO! Nightmare misses as Jack swerves out of the way, catching Nightmare by the waist and MASHING his ribs into the canvas with a sidewalk slam!

CL: The Second Bullet was a better name, he probably would’ve made it if he still called it that.

CM: Did… did you just compliment Nightmare?

CL: No, I complimented the guys in R&D. If I ever become a wrestler, I’m using that as the name of one of my moves. Probably one where I shoot Nightmare in the face… again.

Crackerjack pulls Nightmare off the mat by the head, then hoists him onto his shoulders. He holds him there for a moment, cranking a short torture rack before SWINGING Nightmare around his body and SLAMMING HIM BACK-FIRST INTO THE MAT ONCE MORE!!!

CL: 51 CENT STAMP, BITCH!!

JH: Nightmare’s suddenly looking worse for the wear! Those ribs CANNOT be feeling healthy at this point!

Crackerjack is clearly starting to let his vicious side show as he stands and literally RIPS the pad off the turnbuckle, exposing the steel.

JH: Oh Christ, here we go…

Jack looks down at Nightmare, and despite repeated suggestions to the contrary from Logan Black, HEFTS him back onto his shoulder and THROWS him like a spear at the exposed steel!!

JH: GOOD SWEET CHRIST!!!

Nightmare crumples to the floor holding his head. Crackerjack surveys his work for a moment, scoping out the crimson trickle on the turnbuckle’s steel before nodding and dragging Nightmare’s boots away from the ropes. He puts a meaty fist on Nightmare’s chest and shouts at Logan to count.

[align=center]ONE!



TWO!!


T
NO! Nightmare slides his shoulder off the mat at 2.1![/align]

Crackerjack shakes his head and pulls Nightmare back up again, blood pouring from the Prince of Pain’s head.

CL: Not many masks as good to check out as Nightmare’s crimson fucking mask. Heheh.

Nightmare gets shot toward the ropes, which he rebounds off of, returning to CLOTHESLINE CRACKERJACK BACK DOWN TO THE MAT!!!

JH: NIGHTMARE-LINE!! IT HIT THIS TIME!!

CM: Maybe it’s something about the word “second”.

The fans cheer as bleeding Nightmare heaves deep breaths and holds his still-hurting ribs. He half-pulls Jack to his feet, whipping him toward the ropes and following to COLLIDE with Crackerjack, sandwiching him into the exposed turnbuckle with a flying body splash!

JH: Nightmare is back on the rise like a bad moon in a CCR song!

Nightmare climbs the top rope, nodding and smiling at the fans, mouthing “I’m gonna put this one away HARDCORE!” He seats himself on the top rope, pulling Jack’s arms into a butterfly and LIIIIIIFTS-!

JH: I think… I think Nightmare’s going for a Cataclysm from the top rope!

CL: What’s that, Hitchen? I couldn’t hear you above all this ridiculous marking.

Nightmare tries again to PUUUULLLL Crackerjack up… but the blood gushing out of his head is making him too tired.

JH: C’mon Nightmare! Use your heart! Use your strength!

CM: You sound like a bad anime theme song lyrics. Use your heart! Use your strength! Fight of future-dragon, superstar in the mooonliiiiiiiiight~!

Crackerjack finally breaks free of the butterfly, cycling his arms and WHEELING forward with a HUUUUUUUUUUUGE head butt, right across the gash in Nightmare’s noggin! Nightmare wobbles and topples over, crashing shoulders-that-we-sell-as-head-first onto the floor!

JH: Nightmare just landed SQUARE on his head!

CL: Those are his shoulders you moron.

CM: What’s all that screaming about? I can’t see the ring right from this angle… where the hell’s the damn cameraman?

We finally get a good shot and see that there’s a SPRAY of blood across the metal and apron of the ringside, and Nightmare is clutching the side of his head. Logan Black slides out of the ring to check on him, and Nightmare removes his hand long enough for us to see the bloody, gaping hole on the side of his head where his ear used to be!

JH: GOOD SWEET CHRIST, NIGHTMARE LOST AN EAR!!

Crackerjack exits to ringside and quickly snatches Nightmare and throws him back inside. Upon re-entry he picks him up in a bear hug, SQUEEZING him tightly!

JH: How can Crackerjack slap on the Bonecracker like that!? How can he capitalize on such a serious wound!?

CM: He’s a… … wrestler? It’s what they do.

CL: Wonder where the ear went? I bet that’d fetch more than a few Hamiltons on e-bay.

Nightmare tries to man up and suffer through it, but at Logan’s insistence he taps Crackerjack’s shoulder meekly. The submission gets a standing ovation from the face painted man in the front row.

[align=center]DINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!![/align]

MA: The winner of this match, and STILL the UNDISPUTED INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION… CRRRRRRRAAAAAACKERJAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!

Jack’s music plays as he drops Nightmare like a broken toy, scooping up his title and stalking past the throng of medics that suddenly flood ringside. He stops as he notices something, plucking a small fleshy bit up from near ringside and looking at it curiously.

JH: Is that… ?

CL: IT’S THE EAR!!!

Crackerjack rubs it across the face of his title belt and holds it high before cradling the strap back to his chest and tossing the ear aside.

JH: THAT’S JUST INHUMAN!!! IT’S DISGUSTING!!!

CL: It’s AWESOME is what it is!

Crackerjack heads to the back, and we fade on the crouched men and women loading Nightmare onto a stretcher.

There is the sound of shouting coming from down the hallway in which the camera is. The camera quickly moves closer to the source of the disturbance, closer to the Dual Crown champion's locker room. The camera peeks around the edge of the door Lucy frantically collects things from around the room and stuffs them into a black plastic bag.

Lucy: I CAN'T DO THIS!

XK: You have to.

The camera moves a little to show Kitten looking on and staying out of Lucy's way.

Lucy: Have to? Have to? You realise who you are talking to, right? I don't have to do anything.

XK: You said you would do this, you said you could make this work.

Lucy: Well I can't, I just can't do it any more, I can't go on like this.

XK: You have to keep it together... for us.

Lucy's attention snaps from her task to Kitten.

Lucy: Us? Us? There is no US!

Kitten looks stunned, almost speechless.

XK: Wha...What are you saying?

Lucy: I'm leaving.

XK: Leaving? You can't do that, everything will fall apart with out you. I'll fall apart without you.

Kitten's pleas seem to be getting to Lucy as she stops packing for a moment and stares at him.

Lucy: That's not my problem.

Lucy finishes packing her single black back and walks to the door, she stares at the camera for a moment.

Lucy: Did you get all of that?

The camera nods and she walks off. Xtreme Kitten leans against the wall to stop from falling but still ends up on the floor as he slides down the wall looking like he just lost everything.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Shards
Unregistered

MA: The following six-person intergender tag team match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

The lights go down as thunder rolls in the distance and smoke fills up the cage. The thunder rolls again and the music picks up; the synthesised riff that signals the start of Rusty Nail and the coming of the Judo Sensei. The guitars arrive and the stage is split with lights and lasers and such like and a familiar voice fills the air, with uncharacteristically melodic singing.

[align=center]Kioku no kakera ni, egaita bara wo mitsumete
Togireta, omoi de kasaneru, kawaranai yume ni...[/align]

[align=center]Oh, Rusty Nail![/align]

The disappears in an explosion of pyro momentarily as the chorus hits, and when the debris finally settles, only a lonely warrior remains: Kiyoshi Nakahata, waving the smoke out of his face and pulling his hood right up over his head as he strides towards the ring, trying to keep the huge positive reaction from the crowd out of his mind as the chorus continues.

[align=center]Doredake, namida wo nagaseba
Anata wo, wasurerareru darou
JUST TELL ME MY LIFE
Doku made, aruite mitemo
Namida de, ashita ga mienai...[/align]


Over the PA, Daisuke holds the note out as long as is humanly possible, and then a little longer as Kiyoshi carries on his lonely way to the ring and ascends the steps to the apron. As he reaches a neutral corner from the outside, he faces the crowd, and takes the flag out from his waist band, screws it up and hurls it onto the crowd, for one lucky fan in the front row. With something that vaguely resembles a smile from a certain angle, Mr. FSC strides along the apron, vaulting up on top of his corner, where he pulls his hood right over his face and waits...

MA: In the ring, weighing in at two hundred and sixty pound, from Komachi City, Japan… he is KIIIIIIYYYYOOOOOSSSHHHHIIII NNNNNAAAAKKAAAAHHHAAAATTTTAAAA!!!!

JH: Here comes the man, who many believe, is the number one contender to Xtreme Kitten’s Dual Crown Championship.

CL: Until it’s named, it’s not official though. If he wants that belt, he has to get a match via Krahe.

Suddenly the lights cut out entirely, plunging the arena into darkness, and it doesn’t take long for a few very dark blue lights to start shining, drenching the fans and the ring in blue. Fog starts pouring out near the entrance way, shrouding it in mist, before long the entire arena is nearly engulfed in it. The dark blue lights flash green and red, and purple and then back to blue as a voice booms over the speakers.

[align=center]Turn me up!

Now I gotta murder da' murder ta' get away
The eyes gotta peer now the fool's gotta pay
And if they pay then they pay with they life
So watch another man try to hold on to his life

Cause' I keep lookin' and huntin' just like a lion
Let the sucka' know that it's them that be dyin'
I show no remorse to the source of the tales
And if they tell then the hungry better battle[/align]


”Another Body Murdered” starts playing as the curtain is whipped back. Extreme Ninja #2 walks out from behind the curtain, he is wearing his standard in-ring and entrance gear. Ninja looks around as the fans cheer him on before he lifts up his sign dramatically and it reads “Cheap pop comment here~!”

[align=center] Aw I keep it comin' and comin' across the table
And if I miss, I never miss, cuz I’m able
I'm lookin' forward and I'm lookin' over my shoulder
And I'll make a simple sin to make the bonus
But I'll never bless the rest, so never cease
I'll do a motherfucker with this restin' piece
Cause' what they saw they never seen or even heard of
And if they live, it's just another body murdered....
.....another body murdered....

I'm makin' deals for deals that make a kill
And anyone looking gonna' get that ass killed
I'm livin' like a criminal and criminal I be
And I'm respected in the hood like a 'G'
But if they think I'm blasted then they gone
I'm takin' off they're head with a motherfuckin' chrome
I gotta pay the play the pay ta' get crooked
And I ain't 'BOO' til' I dump another fool
I see the fool runnin' and runnin' but where they goin' ?
Had to witness my murder now they knowin'
What they blast so blast so at the pad
I'll have the thing fixed...My life was goin' in a flash....
If I went to say
that'd be my ass
Searching for these fools while stepping cross the squares
Cause they can't hide and hide and that's real
And what you just witnessed with your eyes got ta' kill....
.....another body murdered.....

Bang your head to this....

Turn me up!

Another body murdered! [/align]


MA: His partners, first from Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at two hundred pounds… EXXXXTTTRRREEEMMMME NNNNIIIINNNJJJAAA… TTOOOOOOO!!!

CM: Jonathan, you stick your nose into everybody else’s business. What’s going on with Ninja and Jaime?

JH: They’re friends. Nothing more. Stop trying to start drama, Chip.

CM: So Ninja’s gay? If he hasn’t tried to tap that yet.

JH: Would you stop it already? Not everyone is desperately horny like you.

Ninja hurries down and slides into the ring and he wastes no time to march over to the corner. He hops up onto it and lifts his balled up hands up in the air. Majority of the fans cheer for him, including the group of fans in the front row dressed up like him hold up their signs which reads “Respect the Ninja!” and “Now 100% Smarty Free!”, and “Fear the Shining Stomp!” and bow to him. EN #2 hops off of the turnbuckle and the lights go up and Ninja flicks back his robe’s hood, revealing his mask fully, he casually undoes his robe’s tie to get ready for the match ahead.

The house lights fade into darkness, sending a quiet murmur throughout the arena. Heavy drum beats spark the stage lights to life, the rainbow of strobes following as the vocals of “Burn” by the Luchagors kick into the PA system. Jaime skips out onto the stage shortly after with her Hellcat Division Championship over her shoulder. She playfully flips her hair up before raising the championship with both hands above her head. She trots down the stairs, continuing to skip down towards the ring, grinning and holding the championship up proudly along the way.

MA: And their partner, making her way to the ring from Ohio, she is your HELLCAT DIVISION CHAMPION… JAAAAYYYMMMMEEE LLLLLEEEE!!!

CM: New music! No more Kelly Clarkson! Yay!

JH: Jaime Lee, the only reigning champion in this match tonight.

CL: Only until Roxie gets a one-on-one opportunity.

Jaime ducks in under the bottom rope, flinging her hair back as she raises her head with a grin from ear to ear. She pops up to her feet and steps into the nearest turnbuckle, blowing a kiss to the fans in the front row and then leaping up to the middle turnbuckle. Once again she flings her hair back as she raises her head and shoots an arm up into the air with the Hellcat Division Championship held in her grasp. Ending the photo op, she jumps back down to the canvas and skips across to the other side of the ring, once again raising the championship up into the air. Her smile fades slightly as she passes her championship off to the referee and backs into her turnbuckle, ready to get serious for the upcoming contest.

The low piano music starts up as lights in the arena slowly die down. Suddenly, with the skipping effect, lights come back on with reds and pinks all around. A small silhouette appears behind a white curtain dancing slowly to the heavy, and trancing beat.

[align=center]You woke up this morning
All the love has gone,
Your Papa never told you
About right and wrong.
[/align]

The curtain drops down to the concrete ground as Roxie turns towards the crowd and lets out a smile. Taking her time going down the steps, Roxie continues to the ring stepping on the beat with both feet, with a hair difference. Once at the ring, Roxie grabs a hold of the bottom rope and lets it guide her to the corner to round the ring. Now on the other side, Roxie lifts her right leg and rests it on the apron.

MA: Their opponents, introducing first from New York, New York, weighing in at one hundred and twenty--

Roxie struggles to get the other foot up, and instead crashes down outside the ring due to lack of balance as Anderson looks on.

[align=center]You woke up this morning
The world turned upside down,
Thing's ain't been the same
Since the Blues walked into town.
[/align]

MA: Uh...One hundred and twenty three pounds, ROXIEEEE GALANOOOOCHIEEEEE!!!

Roxie quickly scampers back to her feet and rolls into the ring instead. Instead of ending on some grand dancing note, Roxie just waves slightly to the crowd still a little embarrassed.

-The Screen turns blue as an electric tone plays, halfway between the sound of a substation and overflying aircraft, when the screen flashes-
NO WORDS
-the tone oscillating and gaining pitch before-
CAN DESCRIBE
-shattered by a dischordant but rhythmic guitar chord with an overlying drum beat that makes it visceral in it's intensity...-

Phyllis enters, a few wisps of smoke trailing behind him as his overcoat likewise spills outside, revealing the redness within... The sweat is visible on his forehead and black mesh suit...

MA: Her partner, first from the grave, he weighs in at one hundred and eighty pounds… PHHHHHIIIILLLLLLIIIIISSSSSS!!!!

He allows his fingers to trail the edge of the hands that reach from the crowd, but his eyes never leave the ring... there is something Manic within them, their stare too wide, unblinking, his breath uncommonly quick, a suggestion in both his manner and posture that suggesting frightening intensity... As he gets closer to the ring his agitation increases...

-The Hypnotic guitar riff plays on as an undertone evolves, seething beneath the surface and gaining urgency...-

Phyllis circles the ring, his pace quickening, his aggitation and enthusiam mirroring the change in the music... He suddenly darts for the ring, sliding the ropes and running at the turnbuckle-

-The undertone quickly becomes an overtone, dwarfing the original riff as inhuman howls match it with almost human words...-

Phylis runs up the ropes...

-the screen bursts into flames-

Phyllis tears off the Caple-like overcoat and snarls at the crowd...

-Humanesque shadows writhe in the flames as pitiful alien noises play accross the crackling of the fire... both sound and sight on the screen slowly fading to nothingness...-

After a few moments Phyllis leaps off the ropes and into the middle of the ring, twitching energetically as he waits for his opponent...

[align=center]The driving guitar riffs of Mick Jagger's "God Gave Me Everything I Want" hit the arena, and golden spotlights start to whizz around the audience and across the ringside area. The crowd pop as the lights on the stage start to pulse with white and gold, and a shillouette of a man appears in the entrance way. As Mick Jagger shouts "God Gave Me Everything I Want" for the first time, the shillouette is hit by a spotlight, and steps forward, throwing the hood of his sweatshirt backward, and tilting his head back and his arms out to the sides in his trademark pose, Hutch basks in the crowd's reaction.[/align]

MA: And finally, hailing from Newcastle, England, he weighs in at two hundred and forty pounds…. HHHHUUUUUTTTTCCCHHHH!!!

[align=center]He points to a few Hutch signs in the audience, cupping his eyes so he can see further into the back. He finds one he likes, and points at it, before moving down the ramp. He pauses his walk to strut like his idol, Ric Flair, before slapping a few lucky fans hands. Pausing to flash a grin at a random woman in the front row, before leaping up onto the apron from the floor, and ducking quickly under the ropes.

Once in the ring he wanders over to the camera side ropes, leans on it, and winks to the crowd, blowing a mock-kiss to someone unseen, before clambering up onto the turnbuckle, placing one foot on the top rope, and tilting his head back and spreading his arms. There is a loud "BANG" and golden sparks shower down over FIW's Most Valuable Playboy for a few seconds, and as they stop, Hutch hops down into the ring to await the start of the match.
[/align]

CM: Damn. Is that everybody?

JH: Finally, yes. Four men, two women. Six-person intergender tag team match.

CL: All the blind viewers in the world thank you for that recap, Hitchen.

The six competitors are all discuss amongst one another who will be starting the match. And by that, I mean Kiyoshi, Ninja and Jaime discuss who will start for their side, while Hutch, Phyllis and Roxie discuss who will start for their side. I don’t mean all six are gathering together to see who should start. That would just be weird. But it looks like Jaime and Roxie has decided to start for their sides. Fair enough. The men all exit the ring and let the ladies kick things off.

CM: Ooh, women up first. I loves it.

CL: I can’t wait to see what bone on Jaime Roxie manages to snap in two tonight.

JH: I wouldn’t hold your breath, Conse. Jaime’s tougher than she looks. No offense to La Lesbiana Fantastica, of course. Who is at home convalescing from her broken arm, courtesy of Roxie Galanoochie.

Jaime and Roxie circle one another before charging in for a collar and elbow tie-up. Roxie immediately counters it into a hammerlock, applying pressure to Jaime’s shoulder joint. Leaning to beside him, the face painted man whispers some thing to the cloaked figure with great interest. Jaime reaches back, grabbing Roxie by the head and drops down, throwing Roxie over with a snapmare in the process!

JH: Impressive counter from Jaime. Getting out of that hammerlock.

CM: *snooze*

CL: Smart. Roxie could’ve broken her arm with that move if she wanted. Shame she didn’t.

Roxie gets back to her feet immediately, rushing in and gets taken down with a drop toe hold from the champion! Jaime leaps over into a grounded headlock on Roxie. Roxie fights up to her feet, firing her elbow into Jaime’s ribs before throwing her off into the ropes. Jaime rebounds and baseball slides through Roxie’s legs! Roxie spins around and gets a dropkick to the face!

JH: Jaime with a dropkick! Roxie’s trying her damnedest but Jaime seems to be one step ahead of her tonight.

CL: All she’s doing is pissing Roxie off though. Can’t you see it?

JH: I don’t know about that, Conse. Roxie admires Jaime.

Jaime drags Roxie back up to her feet, only for Roxie to knock Jaime’s hands away and BASH her in the face with a forearm smash!

CL: There it is! I called it!

Jaime crashes into the canvas, blinking up at the lights as she tries to figure out what just hit her. It was Roxie and she’s now dragging Jaime up to her feet. Before Jaime has a chance to gather bearings, Roxie drags her into a short arm clothesline!

JH: Perhaps Conse was right. Roxie is no longer playing kid games here.

CL: She may look up to Jaime, but she isn’t Jaime. She’s here to win.

Roxie drags Jaime back up and takes her down with a second short arm clothesline! No! Jaime ducks that second attempt! So Roxie throws a back elbow! That Jaime also ducks! Still holding onto Roxie’s wrist, Jaime cartwheels with one hand and then leaps onto Roxie’s thighs, throwing her across the ring with a monkey flip!

JH: Even with Roxie’s temper in full control, Jaime still manages to counter back into the advantage.

CL: But it looks like she’s retreating. I’d say she’s had enough of Roxie.

CM: I’ll take them both on at the same time!

Jaime makes the tag to Ninja, who immediately comes into the ring while Jaime exits, checking to make sure her nose isn’t broken. Ninja steps slowly and steadily towards Roxie, not anxious to grapple with a lady even if she did just try to bash Jaime’s face in. Roxie gets right up in Ninja’s mask, asking him if he wants to go.

JH: Ninja’s in but Roxie hasn’t tagged out.

CL: Intergender rules, Jonathan.

JH: So now Roxie has to lock up with Ninja. This could be interesting.

CM: Is she going to? Or is she going to tag out?

Roxie makes the decision, booting Ninja in the stomach and then whipping him off the ropes. Or at least that was the intent, Ninja easily counters the whip though. Roxie rebounds and gets thrown across the ring with an arm drag. She gets to her hands and knees, letting out a frustrated growl before lunging at Ninja! If you could see Ninja’s eyes, they probably would be doubled in size right before Roxie nearly beheads him with a clothesline that takes them both down to the canvas!

CM: Damn! Roxie is in a FOUL mood tonight!

JH: Roxie truly believes she’s being overlooked. Tonight she’s here to make everyone see her.

CL: I think Ninja saw her. But now he’s seeing stars thanks to her.

Roxie springs back to her feet and immediately begins raining down on Ninja with a flurry of stomps. She places her foot across his throat, causing Ninja to kick and squirm in desperation for oxygen. Mark Jackson wastes no time in counting Roxie down to five, to which she releases the choke just in time and then STOMPS on Ninja’s face!

JH: An illegal choke from Roxie. And Ninja is being punished here.

CL: Never had a chance. Not with Roxie’s new attitude. Everyone expects her to be sweet and innocent but she’s far from it.

CM: Roxie’s a bitch!

With a glare sent in Jaime’s direction, Roxie runs off the ropes and… does nothing because Mark Jackson grabs a hold of her and shoves her towards the corner. Roxie argues the entire time Phyllis comes in (off the blind tag) and NAILS NINJA IN THE CHEST WITH A DOUBLE STOMP!

JH: Blind tag. And now Phyllis is continuing the punishment on Ninja.

CL: Reminds you of the old days, huh? When Ninja used to get his ass beat.

CM: It’s his emotions, right Jonathan? Thinking about them messing with his woman.

JH: For the last time, they’re just friends!

Phyllis drags the ninja up, nailing a kick to the stomach before whipping him across the ring into the far corner! Ninja collides back-first with the turnbuckle and falls limp with his arms over the top rope. Phyllis backs into the opposite corner, pulling his kneepad down… all while Mark Jackson is fighting with the combative Roxie.

CM: Here comes the end of Ninja. Phyllis is kind to end it early on him.

Phyllis charges across the ring, full force and DRIVES HIS KNEE… INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! Ninja dives aside at the very last possible second to save himself! He grabs Phyllis by the head, SMASHES him into the turnbuckle and then hooks him up, THROWING HIM OVER WITH A BACK SUPLEX!

JH: PHYLLIS MISSED! But Ninja’s back suplex didn’t miss!

CL: And now a fresh Kiyoshi is into the match!

Ninja makes the tag to Kiyoshi and together they drag Phyllis up off the canvas. Mark Jackson finally gets Roxie out of the ring and now he has to contest with Hutch, who’s trying to complain about the double teaming. Apparently he doesn’t know they get five seconds. Regardless, Ninja and Kiyoshi gets Phyllis up, only to DRIVE HIM INTO THE CANVAS WITH A DOUBLE SUPLEX!

JH: Now some tag team wrestling from Ninja and Kiyoshi.

CM: ILLEGAL!

JH: They have until the count of five. But Hutch is the one preventing that time from running up.

Kiyoshi floats over into an immediate cover but the referee is still with Hutch. Kiyoshi gets back to his feet and glares at FIW’s self-proclaimed Playboy, only to get a few words that he probably didn’t want to hear from Hutch. Kiyoshi glances down at Phyllis then back at Hutch. He grabs Phyllis and THROWS him into the corner, telling Hutch to tag in. Not surprisingly, that gets Hutch to back off.

JH: Hutch wants nothing to do with Kiyoshi one-on-one, big shocker.

CM: He has to be tagged first, Jonathan! Hutch isn’t going to illegally enter the ring.

JH: Oh right. Because Hutch always plays by the rules.[/sarcasm]

Hutch drops off the apron as Kiyoshi runs in and CRUSHES Phyllis with a shoulder charge! Roxie reaches in and whacks Kiyoshi in the back of the head, just for the hell of it. Hey, she’s fired up! Kiyoshi grabs Roxie by the hair and FLINGS HER INTO THE RING!

CM: HEY! That’s a woman!

JH: Kiyoshi doesn’t care! If you want to fight, he’ll fight back.

Roxie springs to her feet, a ball of rage as she charges full force at Kiyoshi! Kiyoshi sidesteps and shoves her through the ropes to the floor below! Kiyoshi drags Phyllis out of the corner, hooking him up and THROWING HIM OVER WITH A FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX! Before Mark Jackson can even go to count the fall, Roxie comes charging back into the ring!

CL: I love this girl! She’s a hellcat in every sense of the word.

JH: I’ll agree there. But she needs to let this match continue, not continually interrupt.

No need for the referee to get involved, Jaime is right there to SPEAR Roxie down to the canvas! The two lobby for control, throwing wild strikes back and forth as they roll from the ring!

JH: And Jaime takes care of that problem!

CL: Talk about illegal! Just because Roxie does it, Jaime can do it without the lecture?

JH: Someone had to restrain Roxie!

Mark Jackson goes back to make the count but now Hutch has the nerve to get in the ring, STOMPING on Kiyoshi’s stomach! Kiyoshi immediately scrambles to get up, but Hutch nails a kick to his face!

JH: Now Hutch is in! This thing has just broken down into chaos!

CM: It is a six-person tag. It was inevitable.

Ninja comes flying in next, nailing Hutch with a flying shoulder block! Ninja attempts to remove Hutch from the ring, but Kiyoshi politely (not really but it wasn’t rudely either) nudges Ninja aside and unleashes of strikes that back Hutch into the turnbuckle!

CL: And that’s what Kiyoshi wanted all match! Kiyoshi and Hutch!

While Mark Jackson thinks twice about getting between those two, Ninja goes to Jaime’s aid. Or he would have if Phyllis didn’t roll him up from behind with a school boy roll-up! Jackson hesitates a moment, before deciding to count the fall.


ONE!


TWO!!

Ninja kicks out!


Ninja nips up to his feet with ninja-like agility and beats Phyllis to the punch… literally. Kiyoshi dumps Hutch over the ropes to the floor below, finally backing off and letting Mark Jackson try to restore order throughout the match. That means heading outside to break up the catfight action. This allows for some double team action from Kiyoshi and Ninja. Hey, it’s not illegal if the referee isn’t objecting! Kiyoshi drags Phyllis up and drives his knee deep into Phyllis’ midsection. Kiyoshi instructs Ninja to finish him off and the Extreme one does just that… backing off the ropes and SMASHING PHYLLIS’ SKULL IN WITH A SHINING STOMP!

JH: Ninja nails the “I STEP ON YOU!” With help from Kiyoshi!


ONE!




TWO!!




THREE!!!





FOUR?



CM: No referee for the little ninja boy!

JH: He’s still trying to contain the hellcats!

Mark Jackson is still busy trying to pry apart the frenzy that is Jaime Lee and Roxie Galanoochie. And honestly, wouldn’t you rather try to get between them than anyone else in the match. Kiyoshi heads to get the referee’s attention just as Hutch pops in under the bottom rope and SMASHES KIYOSHI’S FACE IN WITH THE HELLCAT CHAMPIONSHIP!

JH: HEY! Hutch just used the Hellcat Championship on Kiyoshi!

CM: What? I didn’t see that at all!

JH: How could you not?!

Hutch pulls Ninja off of Phyllis and runs him straight through the ropes to the mats at ringside! Hutch returns his attention to Kiyoshi, a cocky grin plastered across his face as he watches Kiyoshi wobbly trying to get back to his feet. The second Kiyoshi gets to his feet, Hutch jumps and PANCAKES HIM INTO THE CANVAS WITH A ONE-ARMED ACE CRUSHER! Mark Jackson, conveniently breaks up the girls just in time to spot this and dives back into the ring.


ONE!


TWO!!



THREE!!!


JH: You’ve gotta be kidding me! The Slice of Fried Gold off the shot with the belt. And Hutch has pinned Kiyoshi!

CM: No, no, no! Hutch has pinned who you named the number one contender for the Dual Crown Championship!

JH: If you want to put it that way.

CM: I do and I did!

Hutch leaps up to his feet, throwing his hands in the air and running in circles before scaling the turnbuckle to receive all the praise in the world from the fans. Not surprisingly, he actually gets some. Hutch has some fans. Whodathunkit?

MA: Your winners… Roxie Galanoochie, Phyllis, and HUTCH!

Ninja spots Hutch leaping around the ring like he just won the Dual Crown Championship but instead of going to complain about the circumstances that took place, leaps over the ring steps to intercept Roxie aiming a steel chair at Jaime! Mark Jackson joins in the defense and soon security and referees are flooding the ringside area to wrestle the steel chair from Roxie’s grasp.

JH: Roxie has lost it! She’s got a steel chair!

CM: Had a steel chair. Security has it now.

CL: She’s a hellcat. You shouldn’t be surprised by her actions by now.

Roxie’s bloodlust seems to have fired something up within Jaime, causing the Hellcat Champion to try and get back at her to extract revenge… for something Roxie only intended to do. Ninja grabs a hold of Jaime, holding her back from getting into another brawl with Roxie while the security and referees form a wall between them, forcing the ladies out of the ringside area.

Hutch: Ladies, ladies, ladies!

Hey! Hutch has a microphone! Let’s listen to him.

Hutch: There’s no need to fight with one another. Yes, I did win the match, rectifying the fluke from last week by pinning this waste of space here.

Hutch nudges Kiyoshi’s limp form with a kick of the toe, getting a glare from the referees that are trying to get him from the ring and revive him from his stupor.

Hutch: But don’t worry! Just because I won doesn’t mean I still don’t have time for all of the lovely ladies in here. Roxie, Jaime… even Rebecca. Hutch can keep up with you all! Hit my music!

He grins ear from ear, throwing his arms out to the side, ready to receive the adore and admiration from the ladies in the arena. Unfortunately Jaime and Roxie are being escorted to the back to ensure another war doesn’t break out, which leaves Hutch lady-less. He seems alright though, confident Rebecca is waiting for him backstage. So he tosses the microphone back to the ring monkeys and scales the nearest turnbuckle. Although he seems to realize his music has not reprised over the speakers. Instead, a familiar buzz feedbacks through the speakers, plunging the arena into complete darkness.

JH: What the hell?

CM: I was adoring and admiring Hutch!

The arena is flooded with lights, as pink and purple strobes flash with the beat of “Up Here” by Powder. The crowd goes crazy as Kennedy steps through the curtain, a look of determination plastered on her features, her eyes staring straight ahead into the ring. Hutch stands atop the turnbuckle, his mouth opened in surprise and eyes wide in disbelief.

JH: IT’S KENNEDY!

CM: She came back for me! Err, I mean… she came back!

The music fades out as Kennedy remains on stage, a microphone held at her side. She places a hand on her hip, gazing out among the crowd giving her a welcome back applause.

Kennedy: Hutch. What are you doing, Hutch? You just pinned the man that everybody in this arena is considering the number one contender for the biggest prize in FIW. And all you can talk about… is how many women want you?

CM: What else is important?

JH: Uh, the Dual Crown Championship… that Kennedy just mentioned.

CM: How is that going to keep you warm at night?

Kennedy: You know, I thought maybe you had changed. Become a better person. You know, not shallow? I mean, even I moved on from that phase.

CM: I miss slutty shallow Kennedy.

CL: I’m sure Hutch does too.

Hutch doesn’t seem to understand what Kennedy’s talking about. He finally lowers himself back to the canvas, asking her questions that we can’t hear. Because he no longer has a microphone, duh.

Kennedy: It doesn’t even matter, Hutch. What does matter, is that you gave me a challenge. You wanted me to see you up close and in action. So guess what? You got your wish. I want you, Hutch!

CM: Aah! What?!

The crowd oohs and aahs and gasps their surprise at Kennedy uttering the four words Hutch has dreamt of hearing ever since they crossed paths so many years ago. You know this is true by the look of elated disbelief plastered across Hutch’s face.

Kennedy: That’s right. I want you, Hutch, in that ring! I accept your challenge!

Kennedy drops the microphone back to her side, cueing the reprise of “Up Here” to drown out anything else that could be said between the two. Not that Hutch can even form a coherent thought right now. He’s gone from Kennedy wanting him, to Kennedy wanting to kick his ass. Almost in the same breath. What the heck is going on?!

JH: Kennedy vs. Hutch?! Are we finally going to see it?!

CM: I can’t believe it! I can’t fuckin’ believe it!

CL: Last time we saw Kennedy, she fucked up XK’s pretty boy face. You can only imagine what she’ll do to Hutch’s money-maker. Or so he thinks.

JH: I still can’t believe that Kennedy is… is she back?!

CM: She is tonight, Jonathan! And she wants at least one more match in her career!
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JH: Next up folks is technically not even a scheduled match for the evening, it is a non-sanctioned bout between Graver and Kitten.

CL: Which means, no fancy entrances, no ring announcements, no bell, no referee, no rules, just a good ole fashion fucking beat down.

CM: Wait, then why are we here?

JH: Well, personally, though I’m not getting paid for this I feel it is my duty as a announcer for FIW to stay and call this fight.

CL: I just want to see Kitten fucking bleed.

CM: Really? We’re not getting paid? Screw that, I’m out of here.


Before either Hitchen or Loire can say any thing there is an uproar of cheers when Xtreme Kitten steps out on stage. Strangely, his attire consists of his mask, a black tank top, and jeans with knee pads over them, boots, taped up hands and elbow pads. He looks a bit more depressed than usual, holding the chain that is attached to the collar around his neck as opposed to Lucy holding it. Around his waist are the FIW Global Heavyweight Championship and the FIW World Heavyweight Championship. Briefly he looks out at the fans and then jogs down the steps and to the ring, sliding in and rolling right up to a knee.


CL: Fucking piece of shit cunt bag, leaving me with…you.

JH: The feeling is mutual I can assure you.

CL: In either case, looks like Kitten is looking a little emo tonight.

JH: After losing Lucy, I can’t blame him.


These cheers quickly shift to jeers when a second figure appears, now standing where the champion was moments ago. Opposite to Kitten’s change, the Reject of Rejects is wearing his usual entrance attire right down to the long jacket with the only difference being sun glasses. However, he makes up for that with what he’s brought with him for this fight, and resembles more like a cliché’ vampire hunter than an actual wrestler. The glass shard rests in his right fist, blood dripping from out of his palm, the Gorehammer slung over his shoulder in a make-shift sheath. In his other hand is the cinder block wrapped in barbed wire, and hooked to a pocket on his coat is a duffle bag full of who knows what. Casually he walks down the stage and takes his time, looking on with a purpose even when he enters the ring and stares across it to Kitten.


JH: Graver looks like a reject out of the Matrix movies with that get-up.

CL: Don’t sully Graver’s good name by placing him beside those jizz pictures.

JH: In either case, I’m wondering for how long this claim of being able to out-strike Kitten will last with Graver.

CL: Sure Kitten knows some fancy kicks, but Graver’s from the mean streets of Detroit, this is his kind of fight.


Suddenly there is another surge of cheers when the bandana wearing White Haired Warrior walks out onto the stage, Kiyoshi raising an eyebrow at Graver’s “toys”. Carefully the Straight Edge Fuckamaniac unpacks every thing from his being, dropping them down to the corner he’s chosen as his own. Kitten, in the mean time, undoes the title belts and places them on top of his chosen corner and undoes his collar, tossing it to the side. Both men turn around and run right at each other, XK throwing a chain wrapped forearm strike that Graver ducks out of the way of and punches him square in the jaw! The Feline Fighter nearly crumbles from the blow and staggers back as the Minister of Awesomocity chucks the brass knuckles off of his hand in his pursuit.

CL: Looks like Kitten’s got quite the glass jaw.

JH: Glass jaw?! Come on, he just as plain as day tossed those brass knuckles away after using them!

CL: No rules Hitchen, no rules.

JH: I guess it is a little much to ask of Graver to actually treat this like some thing at least resembling a wrestling contest.

With ease the Reject of Rejects throws a few jabs and connects with each one on the dazed heap of XK’s body. Eventually making him drop down to his knees and slump against the middle rope, looking for some kind of safety for the present moment. Course, he doesn’t get any as Graver leans against the ropes with him and snatches a handful of his mask’s fur. Wrenching back his head, the Straight Edge Fuckamaniac drives his index and middle fingers into the eye sockets of the Feline Fighter, nearly ripping out his eyes!

JH: This is barbaric! He is trying to gorge out Kitten’s eyes!

CL: Why does this get to you so much? You don’t weep for a young woman who gets mugged in a back alley every night or even worse. Yet, like most idiotic people, you try and show a shred of humanity when it is done right in front of you.

JH: The difference is typically nothing could have been done to stop those things, this can be and should be stopped!

CL: Bullshit, you hypocritical British bastard, admit it, humanity is just a lie and just enjoy the violence.

In a useless attempt to save his eyes Xtreme Kitten blindly gropes at the frame of his opponent as he continues to dig and twist into his eyes. Eventually growing bored of that, Graver pulls his fingers out and balls the rest of his fingers and them into a fist again. Frantically he starts pounding away on the forehead area of XK’s mask with his knuckles pointed straight at it. In between his punches he grabs it with his other hand and the Reject of Rejects starts tearing at the fabric, trying his hardest to rip it.

CL: Beating him like he is the crack whore that owes him money.

JH: That’s just disrespectful! He’s going right for Kitten’s mask!

CL: Such is the price for Kitten’s big mouth and being a pussy about feelings, and shit right before this fight.

JH: I don’t think he’ll be play till he has killed Kitten!

This is even a bit hard for Nakahata to watch by the look forming on his features, which is until his shoulder is bumped into. The Judo Sensei turns to see that now the Evolution of Excellence, Prime, has joined him on the stage for a front row view of this massacre. Some fans cheer Prime’s arrival while others remain focused on Graver’s punching and attempts to tear at the mask. Every one watching’s eyes widen and gasp collective when it rings out, the sound of fabric ripping under the force of the Reject of Rejects!

JH: He has torn Kitten’s mask! It is ripping!

CL: Good! Unmask the bastard!

JH: This is going too far!

CL: No, this isn’t going far enough!

A large grin is on the features of the Straight Edge Fuckamaniac as he leans XK’s head against the middle rope, letting all the fans witness it and the camera pick it up. Though a bit small, there is a distinct hole in the region near the forehead, letting some of Kitten’s hair be visible. Now relentlessly and much more rapid, Graver starts driving his fist down on the hole in the mask like a shark smelling blood in it’s prey. It is fitting that it isn’t long before the Feline Fighter is, in fact, bleeding from the hole his foe has produced in his mask.

CL: Blood! Yes! And, I have the feeling it is just the beginning!

JH: Ugh…this is making me sick, folks!

CL: Don’t lie, you are loving it, give in.

JH: No! This…this…this is wrong, just wrong!

A cackle is soon joining the grin on the Minister of Awesomocity’s face and he pauses from punching XK for a moment. Gently he wipes some of Kitten’s blood onto his face, making a near jester like face paint on his features in his opponent’s sacred crimson liquid. With a deranged look in his eyes, the Straight Edge Fuckamaniac presses his hands against the sides of the cut to make it over flow with even more blood. Prime looks on mildly impressed with this aggressive and disturbing feat, the other man watching looks to be a bit pale and his hooded head looks away from the ring.

JH: Gah! He’s using Kitten’s head…like…like…

CL: Like a water fountain of blood! It’s beautiful!

JH: Uh…if I didn’t feel my duty as a announcer to call this, I’d be down there by now and stopping this.

CL: What the fuck could you do? Offer Graver some tea and try to talk things out? You’d be a fucking dead limey is what would happen.

Once most of the ringside area in that general direction is covered in the Dual Crown Champion’s blood Graver stops, he let’s go and walks away. He saunters over to his duffle bag and unzips it, rummaging around through it for whatever he has in mind for his foe. Soon his hands remerge from the bag, though he hides them from the camera and shuffles back over to the champion with a gleam in his eye. Gradually he raises his hands and unveils what he is holding, two steel rail road spikes, one in each hand balled into a fist!

CL: Oh please…Oh fucking please…

JH: Dear lord…

CL: That stupid hippie can’t save his aussie ass now.

JH: Please…Graver…don’t…don’t do it…

Like a procession in a band, one after the other the Reject of Rejects thrusts his hands downward in a rhythm of a demented melody. The point of steel pierces flesh and fabric, like some sick and twisted human drum receiving the cue to create its music. Music it does indeed make, the blending of Graver’s near insane laughter and Kitten’s screams of agony and horror. Pieces of fluff and fabric mixed with blood fly up with each beat, making the hole larger and larger than the previous beat. What looks like a slight squirm from Kiyoshi is seen, whether he is shuddering or some thing else remains unknown to the viewers. Though, it is clear even Prime is looking on a bit uneasy now with this showing of violence in the ring.

JH: Why is every one sitting on their hands?! Some one save him! For the love of all that is holy, end this insanity!

CL: This is fucking marvelous! It is a mixture of art, music and violence all wrapped into one gory and bloody package!

JH: Ugh! Can you for one moment stop your immature fetish driven ravings of blood and actually care for another living being that is suffering?!

CL: …No?

Blood is nearly staining the entirety of Xtreme Kitten’s mask a red and is completely covering the front of his upper torso like a shirt of it. A near inch thick puddle of it streaming down the canvas in front of him and down the side of the apron, dripping out onto the floor. FIW’s Reject of Rejects places one of the blood coated spikes in his mouth, biting down on it like an enraged dog with its most prized possession. It is near strange to see how careful and slow, and calculating Graver is with the other as he slips it under Kitten’s mask.

CL: Look at it, look at him, this is what all of FIW should aspire to be.

JH: Are you cracked?!

CL: No, I just see the same vision as Graver.

JH: If FIW ever became any thing like this sickening display in that ring it’d be the ruin of it!

All it takes is a swift and simple tug from the spike, and the ripping noise engulfs the hushed crowd again as the Reject of Rejects holds up the spike. The spike now is holding at the very end on its point the shredded remains of Xtreme Kitten’s bloody mask! With the cut only longer and deeper now, more blood just continues to pour down the unveiled face of XK! Graver no longer helping him stay up, Kitten slumps down against the canvas as his foe holds the spike with the mask on it like some disturbing trophy. Kiyoshi’s and Prime’s eyes widening at this and both look like they are now considering getting involved.

JH: …Wha…wha….what...just happened?

CL: Kitten just got unmasked!

JH: Graver has reduced the Gatito mask passed down to Xtreme Kitten to rags!

CL: He has destroyed Xtreme Kitten! Xtreme Kitten is no more! Xtreme Kitten is dead! And, I couldn’t be any fucking happier!

Chicago’s fans in attendance don’t even have the power to jeer, they are just in absolute shock of what they’ve seen unfold. Graver merely closes his eyes with a grin and dances in the center of the ring, twirling as he holds the remains of the Xtreme Kitten mask high. There is a small rumbling within the crowd, though it quickly fades and the Reject of Rejects ignores it completely. Not even realizing that Hutch wraps his arm around his neck and drops him with the Slice of Fried Gold until it is far too late!

CL: What the fuck does he think he is doing?!

JH: Hutch! Finally! Some one has come to their senses!

CL: Fuck Hutch!

JH: No, god bless him!

There are cheers from the fans and Graver rolls to the ropes, taking a few moments to stir and when he does, he looks up to find Hutch posing in the center of the ring. A snarl escapes from between his lips and he starts to get up, only for a behemoth to enter the ring. FIW’s Reject of Rejects glares up at Prime who unleashes a lariat the turns him inside out and back right! Hutch and Prime turn to face one another, the two staring each other down with intensity as the fans cheer in a near riot like feeling.

JH: Kiss this! And, oh boy…

CL: That’s right, Hutch’s and Prime’s problems with each other way back when are pretty well known.

JH: Come on now, we don’t need another fight…

CL: Yes we do.

Tumbling out of the ring, Graver scoops up the bloody mask and spike as he clutches at his sore head with his free hand and grumbles in fury. Hutch and Prime trade words to one another in the ring, and slowly the now unmasked Kitten starts to stir and get to his feet. Before he can get fully up though, Hutch leaps and drops him back down with a Slice of Fried Gold! Prime looks on shocked as Hutch rolls out onto the apron with a smirk, some fans jeering it and some fans cheering the action.

CL: Ha, so much for Kitten’s savior.

JH: I can’t believe it! Talk about hitting them when they are down!

CL: Can’t blame him, he’s sending a message he wants the Dual Crown too.

JH: And, he does hold a victory over Kiyoshi, which only serves to make this entire situation even more complicated!

Briefly the Reject of Rejects’ eyes meet with the face painted man’s eyes in the front row as he walks away from the ringside area. Mean while, FIW’s MVP snatches up the Dual Crown belts from XK’s corner and looks them over, posing with them a little bit. Until the Evolution of Excellence storms over and threatens him to put those down, Hutch does so though drops from the apron to avoid Prime. Graver staggers up the walk way and soon finds himself in front of Kiyoshi, who is staring a hole into his head from underneath the hood.

JH: Graver has been on a disgusting display, Kitten has been unmasked, Hutch has struck both Graver and Kitten, Prime has saved Kitten and possibly rekindled his old grudge with Hutch, AND Kiyoshi patiently watches it all! This has been a crazy ending to the night!

CL: Only question is, who out of them is the number one contender? And, who can beat Kitten to take the belts?

JH: As much as I hate to say it, we might not know that until next week!

CL: In the mean time, that’s it for us tonight every one, for Hitchen and Chip, I’m Constance, we’ll see you later ladies and gents, you woul-

Before he can finish the closing tag line flames implode along the stage, the walk way and all four of the ring posts. The lights bathed in crimson and shining down onto all five of the wrestlers, as sans XK they look around in confusion. Music seeps through the sound system, an acoustic melody that plays for nearly two minutes straight. Soon some thing resembling static joins it, yet this buzzing static doesn’t sound quite right…and then it all ends with the image appearing on the ReVolTron.

[align=center]Posted Image[/align]

With that, the camera’s feed dies out and we end up with nothing except static…

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