At the same time a countdown appears on screen.
The guitar riff is playing over this countdown.
When the countdown reaches zero, there’s a pause, and then the rest of the hard hitting instruments kick in.
Rapid action shots of Keith Owens bashing people with light tubes are shown.
Caskets are flying over the edge of stages.
Dwayne Bishop and Jaime Alejandro powerbomb Keith Owens through the announce table!
Mike Lane Shadow Kicks a jobber iinto next week.
Mike Stryker has the New York Cloverleaf locked and his opponent is screams in agony.
The Wild Boys perform a double suplex on someone.
Diamond Del Carver executes the Diamond Death Drop on someone.
We cut to Keith Owens drilling David Kurresh with the Difference Maker, and then the song hits with a giant drum roll.
The intro video ends and we flash to the Annihilation logo.
ON
Cue the huge boom of the indoor pyrotechnics display.
BOOM!!
BOOM!!!
The camera cuts to the ringside announcer’s table, where JB Mann and Tom “The Bear” Kalhoun are standing by.
(JB) Welcome to another edition of Annihilation! We've got a lot on tap for you tonight including the fallout from last week's controversial Foundation Heavyweight Championship match time limit expiration, the continuing saga of the injured Mike Stryker and the monster Hush, as well as our build to the Three Wishes match as we wind down to our Death Wish PPV.
(Tom) So basically I could have phoned it in this week?
(JB) In a way, I wish you did Tom.. .
Tying Up Loose Ends
A very evil laugh can be heard throughout the McKale Center as "What You Waiting For?" by Gwen Stefani blares through the loudspeakers as the NAFWtron flashes the varying images of one Vanessa Chamberlain. She steps through the dry fog filled entranceway, sporting of all things a Purdue Boilermaker basketball jersey which draws tons of boos from this pro-Wildcat crowd. She's accompanied by her bodyguard and enforcer, who's wearing a platinum Destro-ish looking mask over his face with some of his black dreads visible out of it.
(JB) She wasn't in the house on our last edition of Annihilation, but word has it that she heard the remarks of Charlene Richards and wasn't too pleased.
(Tom) She had threats of bodily harm hurled her way. You know that constitutes assault, right?
(JB) Oh give me a break...
(Tom) Where do you want it Mann-hole?
Vanessa makes her way up the steps, sneering as she brushes some of her black hair back from the side of her face rolling her eyes at a few of the front row hecklers and their not too flattering remarks in her general direction. Her bodyguard on the contrary, is the living embodiment of stone on two legs. Not that his mask allows for much in the way of facial expression, his body language gives off that of a man who doesn't care much for anything or anyone as he holds the second and bottom ropes for Vanessa to crawl through. He steps over the top rope as she immediately asks for a microphone and signals for the music to be cut.
(JB) She really doesn't appear to be in too great a mood tonight.
(Tom) I'm not in the greatest of moods either. You know how depressing it is to be on campus here at the University of Arizona? I'd rather we be down the way at ASU. That's a real party school, Mann-wich.
(Vanessa) Normally, I'd come out here with some witty monologue to lighten the mood, but looking at all you Wildcat fans makes me sick to my stomach so I'm just going to get to the point.
The fans hurl a rather derogatory chant her way, which causes her pretty, lightly tanned face to redden just a bit.
(Vanessa) See? That's the typical classlessness I'm talking about. Now, speaking of classlessness, I hear tell a certain dame is back calling me out. All on account of the fact that she's got marital problems and wants to blame it on me, rather than be woman enough to accept responsibility for her...
She doesn't get too far as a woman comes out of the entranceway in a hurry. She's not in a good mood and as you can guess, it is none other than Charlene Richards. She gets about halfway down the aisle in her jeans and throwback Golden State Warriors jersey before she snaps her fingers as if she forgot something...
FEEL. MY. WRATH!
The roof comes off the place as she smirks at Vanessa as "Tha Realist Killaz" by 2Pac w/50 Cent blares throughout the arena. "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons comes out with his brand new Reaper t-shirt which has a cloaked Lion standing on top of a hill of bones with a spine in his left hand and a bloody Lendo Stick in his right. Aarons shakes his head at Vanessa and walks down the aisle, joining Charlene as the two walk together towards the ring.
(JB) This figures to be something fierce to say the least. You've got Vanessa who's hellbent on seeing Aarons run out of the NAFW on a rail...
(Tom) Preferably a box if she has her way about that.
(JB) So she goes out and hires this mystery man, who since Last Rites has been making his presence felt in just about all of The Reaper's matches...only he's been helping him more than hurting him.
(Tom) You know how hard it is to get good help these days. I mean, I'm still waiting on a suitable replacement for you Mann-lips.
(JB) The feeling's more than mutual.
The two reach the apron and hop up together, as Charlene enters through the ropes as Aarons ascends the turnbuckle standing on the second rope as he spreads his arms wide striking his signature pose to the roar of the fans. Charlene applauds as for the first time, off to the far side of the ring the masked behemoth starts to show a small spark of life which is quickly put out by Vanessa who's in his ear screaming up a storm. Aarons quickly snaps his head at Vanessa, hopping over the rope into the ring as both he and Charlene are handed microphones. Before Charlene can utter a word, Vanessa beats her to the punch.
(Vanessa) Just who in the hell do you think you are calling me out, bitch? Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Look at what's standing next to me right now. This man is six foot five inches tall, three hundred and five pounds of absolute destruction and with one snap of my fingers...he'll...
(Charlene) Try to go for my throat and catch yours instead?
The crowd lets out a collective 'OOOHHHH!' as Vanessa seethes at the remark made by Charlene. Leonard simply sits back in the corner, watching the events from a distance as he now perches himself on top of the turnbuckle.
(Charlene) You see Vanessa, it's not my fault you decided to walk out of L's life. It's not my fault that you're an insanely insecure woman who can't handle the fact that his career is doing just fine without you in it. It's not his fault that your pitiful attempts to get him to change back into the soulless individual you met some six years ago or so, isn't working. However, it IS your fault that I'm standing in this ring right now.
(Vanessa) Oh really? Well, like I said before you decided to be all Miss Brodie about things, it's not my fault that your husband decided to join my cause rather than sit at home playing the role of happy little man-bitch to you.
And right about here, is where things get a tad chippy.
(Charlene) Ya know what? I'm sick of this crap. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of you thinking you're going to continue using my man as a pawn in your little twisted scheme. I...
(The Reaper) Hold up, Charlene. Allow me if I may to have a word with Miss Chamberlain before you haul off and whip her silver spoon ass.
The fans let out a roar as Aarons takes a deep breath, before shaking his head as he hops down off of the turnbuckle.
(The Reaper) Now for the better part of the past few months, I've had to deal with you interfering in my life and interfering in my career. And yet, for all of this [bleep] and New Hampshire Vinegar you've brought to the table...what have you really succeeded in doing? You've gotten Bishop's ass carried out of here in nothing short of a body bag, thanks to me. You've succeeded in getting Charlene's husband involved in your little scheme, which has in turn, gotten one very ticked off Charlene in this and now...you've got him basically helping me despite your best efforts to try and screw me over.
Short pause as he uses his thumb to scratch his chin a bit as he searches for his next thought. Guess it didn't take long as he now points at the masked man who is only a few feet away from The Reaper.
(The Reaper) You ever stop and think that maybe, just maybe you're fighting a losing fight and you don't realize it yet? You ever stop and think that maybe, just maybe it's not meant for you to get your vicious, sinister to a friggin' T Lion on a chain back? And yet, this doesn't seem to stop you from coming out here, week after week trying to burn my Pop Tarts. Get this through that thick skull of yours, Vanessa. It's over. It's done. You walked out on me and guess what? You're a done deal to me. Live with it. Now...as for YOU...masked dummy.
There that the masked man finally shows a sign of movement, stepping in front of Vanessa to get in the face of Aarons. Aarons drops the microphone and the two start jawing back and forth. Rather, Aarons starts saying something which causes a reaction from the masked man. No punches are thrown yet, but just before Vanessa can raise her mic, another mic hits the ground. Charlene's. That's because she just charged Vanessa and has leveled her with a vicious superkick that has knocked her back and through the ring ropes. Charlene screams at Vanessa who's lying on the ground, holding her jaw as the man finally starts to removes his mask. However, just as he does so, there's two figures seen running to the ring with chairs in hand. As the man starts to unmask for the first time, he tosses Aarons to the side only to catch a chair shot right to the skull which floors him. Aarons stumbles to the right, only to catch two quick shots to the back which puts him promptly on the ground. As Charlene turns around to see what's happened, this gives Vanessa the opening she needs to blast Charlene in the back of the head with the microphone before taking off through the crowd.
(JB) Damnit! Just as we were about to get to the bottom of things, The Trust Fund Kids come out and lay out both him and Aarons with steel chairs. The Foundation Heavyweight Champion is standing over Aarons, taunting him as he writhes in pain on the ground after eating those two chair shots to the back of the head.
(Tom) That serves him right, trying to upstage the champ on his show. You know it's bad etiquette to steal the champion's spotlight from him.
(JB) And we've got Vanessa long gone through the crowd, after laying in that cheap shot on Charlene. So all we do know is that the man that's been watching Vanessa's back is Charlene's husband. But who is this guy?
(Tom) Looks like the Trust Fund Kids don't care who he is. Wrong place, wrong time and now they're on their way back to...
(Buchanan) Hold it, hold it, HOLD IT.
That would be the sound of Ray Buchanan coming out of the back, as The Trust Fund Kids are stopped about halfway up the aisle. In the ring, Aarons and company are just starting to get to their feet.
(Buchanan) Now on our most recent edition of Annihilation, you turned what was supposed to have been a straight up Foundation Heavyweight Championship match into a ten minute time limit match, which saw The Reaper come up just a second short. Tonight, you two stick your noses in business which clearly didn't pertain to you. So here's what I'm thinking...
He casts a glare past the angry Foundation Heavyweight Champion and his friend, Keith Owens to the ring as Aarons has now locked eyes with Cunning whose now turned facing the crowd as his eyes are on the Commissioner.
(Buchanan) Tonight, in that ring, we're going to have ourselves a tag team match. It will be you the Trust Fund Kids...
The boos are louder than they would be if Pac-10 rival Stanford were in the house.
(Buchanan) Going up against "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons and whoever he elects to get to be his tag team partner. Oh and gentlemen, if Aarons and his partner win, they will be eligible for the Three Wishes match to crown our first ever NAFW Tag Team Champions. Good luck.
There's a huge roar as Cunning slowly turns his head back at an angry Reaper in the ring. His right arm is outstretched towards Cunning as he retracts it back rather quickly, making his trademark cutthroat signal before hitting his pose as the masked man rips off his mask as he staggers to his feet standing alongside Aarons as "Tha Realist Killaz" hits.
(JB) What a main event! Aarons and a partner of his choosing against The Trust Fund Kids with a spot in the Three Wishes match on the line!
(Tom) This is wrong. The Trust Fund Kids weren't doing anything other than trying to quickly and expeditiously rid the ring of this Days Of Our Lives BS and they've gotta face that maniac Aarons and a partner of his choosing? You know who he's going to choose!
(JB) Who?
(Tom) That nameless tard standing right next to him, that's who Mann-turd.
(JB) Well, we don't know that yet but I'm sure we're bound to hear from The Reaper later on with who this person will be. Either way you slice it, this will be one helluva main event tonight.
Mike Lane w/ Spaz vs. Snake w/Wilson
Match Finish Summary: Snake tries to get Wilson involved and throws him at Spaz. As Spaz and Wilson “brawl” on the outside, Snake turns around and eats a Shadow Kick. Lane picks up the victory.
COMMERCIAL
To Sign or not to Sign
The camera cuts to the stage where Ray Buchanan appears to a round of cheers, clipboard in hand. He makes his way to the ring quickly, microphone in hand.
(JB) We all know what this is about. It’s time for a decision Tom. Will he or won’t he? That’s the hangs in the balance.
(Tom) Mann of la Mancha, I think it’s a huge mistake. Signing a waiver to basically get into the ring before you’re cleared in general is nuts. Doing it so you can climb into a ring against HUSH? He needs to be committed.
(JB) Tom, nobody said he was sane. But Mike Stryker doesn’t always do the safe and smart thing. He’s gotten very far in the NAFW by taking chances.
(Tom) Doesn’t make this anything short of moronic.
Buchanan climbs through the ropes and gives the crowd a wave before he begins.
(Buchanan) I’m sure most of you know why I’m out here tonight, but in case you don’t, allow me to refresh your memories. We have an NAFW superstar who, at the moment, is not medically cleared to wrestle. He may insist that he’s ok, but every doctor we’ve spoken to says he’s not. However, in spite of the advice of professionals, as well as my own, he simply will not allow any more time to pass as things stand currently.
Buchanan displays the clipboard over his head as he continues.
(Buchanan) In my hand here is a waiver, essentially acknowledging that the NAFW has done everything it could be expected to in order to look out for this mans health. It says in here that he knows what he’s getting himself into, and that he will assume all the risks that we’ve warned about onto himself. So……without further ado…..
Mike Stryker, please come out here.
The house lights go down as "Til I Collapse" by Eminem begins to play through the arena. As the song goes through it's dark intro, various scenes from NYC come across the NAFWTron.
YO LEFT, YO LEFT, YO LEFT RIGHT LEFT!!
As the line repeats and the dialouge of the song starts in the background, the scene changes to a simple panoramic of the NYC Skyline. When the drums kick in, lightning fills the sky with each beat, and through the cloud cover, the word "STRYKER" can be made out with each bolt of lightning.
When the song finally kicks in, The house lights come up, with a bright white light punctuating each clap in the songs beat. Mike Stryker comes out in his black sweatshirt, hood up, hair hanging down in front of his face. He marches out, and as the crowd gives a roar of approval, he raises his right fist over his head. He gives the crowd a quick look before he begins marching himself to the ring, oblivious to the cheers.
Stryker Rolls under the bottom rope and gets up on the opposite turnbuckles, again raising his fist as the crowd roars once more. He crosses the ring and repeats the action to another cheer. As Stryker gets off the ropes, he looks down Buchanan coldly, and focuses right in on the clipboard in his left hand. He doesn’t make a move for it, and Buchanan makes no move to hand it over. Instead he takes the mic again.
(Buchanan) Mike, here it is. Just like you asked for last week, we have your waiver. Feel free to look it over if you’d like. However, before I hand this over, I have to say it, one more time, as both your boss, and as a friend to you…consider all that you’re risking here. Nobody wants to see you end up in a hospital bed for longer this time. Nobody wants to see you have to end your career early over a rash decision. Mike, I asked you to think about this long and hard before tonight…I can only hope that you’ve done so.
Stryker looks at Buchanan, smirks, and nods before motioning with his hand for the waiver. Buchanan looks down and after a few seconds of brief inner turmoil, reluctantly hands over the clipboard. Stryker takes it and starts to read it over as the crowd starts to buzz in anticipation. Stryker flips one page over and skims the second one briefly before he takes the pen attached to the clipboard in his hand. He stares at the paper, pausing, not moving to sign just yet…
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Michael”
The familiar voice of Aleister Essex cuts through the arena like a knife and coerces a knee jerk reaction of venom to spew from the crowd. Stryker looks up and immediately bottles his rage as Essex appears on the stage, holding the Atlantic Championship belt in one arm like a child.
(Essex) Michael, I implore you to listen to Mr. Buchanan for just this one time. He speaks from the heart, and more importantly, he speaks the truth. If you sign that paper, and insist on stepping back onto the field of battle before you’re fully restitute, you’ll only be further damaging what is already a half-sunk career... If you can even call it anything of the sort...
The fans jeer at Essex's defaming remarks, as Stryker, cold as ice, locks eyes spitefully with the twisted individual walks to the forefront of the walkway.
(Essex) Mike, if you sign that document, and you’ll be giving Hush Carte Blanche to do whatever he pleases with your career, reputation and prestige; toy with it, manhandle it, annihilate it. He will have nothing to fear from the executives anymore, he won’t be held liable if he snaps your neck. Michael, you might as well be out here signing your own DEATH WARRANT!
The crowds boos increase as Essex stares daggers at Stryker. Buchanan looks at Stryker and shrugs, as Stryker takes his microphone, pausing for a second before he speaks.
(Stryker) Essex, you’ve been running your mouth for weeks, and I, for one, am about done hearing you talk.
A rush of cheers from the crowd fill the arena, as everyone there is in agreement, it’s about time Essex shuts up.
(Stryker) The fact is that I went home after last week and I sat, and I thought. I’d go take a walk, get the paper, and I’d think. I’d go to the gym, and I’d think. I’d go out to dinner, and I’d think. This damn decision has been the only thing on my mind since the second I had a decision to make. My gut instinct, my primal instinct, is to sign, get in this ring, and take your boy Hush down for good. Call it revenge, or rage, or anything you want, but it’s in my gut, and it’s not going away. However, while I have that urge, I also have my brain, my reason…and it’s not thinking the same way. I hear all the warnings, from doctors, from fans, from you, Ray, and from that foppish bastard on the stage. I may not like what I hear, and I may want to prove you all wrong…but the fact is you’re right. If I get in this ring, it could mean the end of my career. If every doctor has begged me to be reasonable, maybe I should be. Hell, maybe this whole waiver thing…..maybe it’s a bad idea.
Stryker looks at the papers as the crowd boos the notion. Essex, for his part, is lit up like a child on Christmas.
(Stryker) I mean, I love what I do. My career, this ring, these fans….this is what I am. I live for the moment when I walk out there and a building lights up. I still can’t believe that people plunk down their hard earned money so that they can come watch me. It’s humbling, it’s intoxicating…it’s unlike anything else on this planet. It’s also irreplaceable. If I’m wrong, and I lose all of that….I don’t know what I’d do.
Essex looks like he’s won the lottery as he listens, as the thought of Mike Stryker backing down crosses his mind. Buchanan stands stoically, listening.
(Stryker) But one thing overrides both of those things. It overrides primal rage, and perfect reason. It’s my personality. It’s who I am as a man. The bottom line is that I didn’t get to where I am by being the guy who plays it safe. I might sign this and my career might end…but then again, maybe it won’t. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll sign this, I’ll get my rematch at Death Wish, and I’ll take your boy Hush and beat his ass from pillar to post and back. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll sign this thing, and I’ll walk into that ring against Hush, and I’ll drop that oversized son of a bitch once and for all. Maybe…just MAYBE, I won’t be signing my death warrant…
I’ll be signing HIS!!!
Stryker throws down the mic and grabs the pen, signing the waiver to a throng of cheers as Essex looks on furiously. Even Ray Buchanan, who was against the idea, claps as Stryker gets up on the ropes and stares down Essex, motioning around his waist that his Atlantic Title will be back where it belongs. Essex, incensed, bellows;
(Essex) I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE, YOU’RE NOT GETTING YOUR MATCH!! I’LL HAVE IT STOPPED!!
Buchanan picks up the mic from the ring mat.
(Buchanan) Essex, you won’t be stopping ANYTHING!! Mike Stryker has his rematch against Hush in writing already, and he’ll get that match at Death Wish!!
More cheers as Essex stews on the stage.
(Buchanan) Furthermore, while you two were going back and forth, I got to thinking, that you really HAVE been awful cocky about that Atlantic title being in your camp. In fact, I’ve watched you parade around with that belt as if it were your own, week after week. It makes me think that maybe you feel as though you earned that belt. I’m wondering…where is Hush tonight? After all, it’s his belt you’re holding.
Essex fumbles his mic around, as though caught off-guard by the question.
(Essex) Hush, unfortunately, isn’t here tonight, since he’s not on the card. I didn’t see the point in making him come to this poor excuse of a derelict's kingdom if he wasn't needed here. In fact, I congratulate you, Mr. Buchanan, for refusing to showcase my monster in front of these intolerable ingrates.
Essex grabs himself a nice fat chunk of heat for that last comment.
(Buchanan) That’s a shame, because I realize that Mike Stryker here…he hasn’t wrestled in a while. I’m thinking he may have a little bit of the old “ring rust” to shake off. So I’m thinking that tonight, here, live in Tuscon, Mike Stryker should have himself a good old fashioned tune-up match. So tonight, Aleister, since you’re so proud of yourself these days, you’re going to have the best seat in the house as Mike Stryker returns to the ring. You’ll be so close, you’ll think you were actually in the ring. Actually, it’ll be very realistic for you, since Mike Stryker will be getting back into this ring tonight to face….YOU!!!
(Tom) NO WAY!!! He can’t do that!!
(JB) He just did!!!
The crowd erupts and Stryker grins the widest maniacal grin possible as Essex’s face goes dead on the stage. The crowd keeps cheering as Essex looks terrified, the camera close up to his face as it fades out.
(JB) STRYKER VS. ESSEX!! TONIGHT!! LIVE!!
Charles Johnson vs. Dan Stein
“Miseria Cantare” by AFI slowly fades onto the arena’s sound system. The low music continues to play as various pictures, and small clips of Johnson’s career flashes over the Tron. When the first bit of vocals are heard, Charles walks out on the ramp looking down at the ring. Making his way down to the ring he walks up the ring steps, and into the ring. Bouncing around the ring before focusing in on the match ahead. The last big of the song fades as he awaits the bell.
The lights cut. The arena goes black. The fans buzz in anticipation. The megatron flashes gold quickly, then go blank again. A second passes, and two pyro rockets shoot off from the stage in an 'x' fashion. Then, the megatron flashes gold again, and the words 'The Lights' remain up. 'Apocalypse Please' by Muse begins to play as Dan Stein walks out from the backstage area, then jogs down to the ring.
(Gilmore) The Following contest is set for one fall. In the corner to my left, standing 6 feet, 8 inches tall, weighing in at 297 lbs. from Gulfport, Mississippi……
CHARLES JOHNSON!!!
A negative reaction for CJ, who steps out and raises his hands above his head, defying the booing crowd to keep it up.
(Gilmore) And his opponent, in the corner to my right, standing 6 foot 1 inches tall, weighing in at 215 lbs. from Cedar Rapids, Iowa…
DAN STEIN!!
A mixed reaction from the crowd for Stein, who doesn’t seem to care one way or another about what people in general thing about him.
DING!!!
The bell rings and both men circle, the much smaller Stein realizing he needs to play keep away, backs into a corner and scampers under the attempted lockup from CJ. Johnson turns and pursues a bit, cornering Stein again, but once again the smaller man finds a way out and back to the middle of the ring. Johnson stops his pursuit, not falling for the trap. As he meets Stein center ring, he again tries a lockup, and again Stein slips through, this time sprinting, hitting the ropes, and coming back quick enough to catch CJ in the knee with a dropkick. Stein wastes no time as he goes to work on the affected joint, stomping away at the knee. He steps back and drops an elbow on the knee, then repeats once more. He backs up to come off the ropes, but CJ gets halfway up and delivers a good shot to the stomach, slowing Stein down.
(JB) If Johnson keeps this match slow, he’s going to dominate. He wants to avoid making this a track meet.
(Tom) Your mom wants to make this a track meet.
(JB) What?
(Tom) You heard me.
CJ gets to his feet and pushes Stein back, whipping him across the ring. Stein ducks a clothesline and comes back off the opposite side, but isn’t so lucky, as CJK uses his size to simply power Stein up in the air and step back, letting Stein fall hard to the mat. The crowd gives a solid OOOOOOHHHH to the impact as CJ goes to work, laying in the boots to his fallen opponent. As Stein comes up, CJ quickly dives on top of him, cinching in and nailing a DDT. Stein flips over and lays prone as CJ gets up, flexing his knee.
(JB) Johnson up and tring to get some feeling back in that knee.
(Tom ) Your mom gets feeling in that knee.
(JB) What’s wrong with you?
(Tom) Nothing your mom can’t fix.
(JB) STOP IT!!
(Tom) Hey, I can’t help it, I’m bored here.
Johnson pushes Stein back into a corner and lays a few heavy rights in for good measure before takes a few steps back and charging, sandwiching Stein with a clothesline in the corner. As Stein steps forward, CJ lifts him up and nails a massive spinebuster, followed by a cover and a long 2 count. CJ looks at the ref, indicating he’d like things sped up. He peels Stein off the canvas and picks him up easily, connecting with a solid backbreaker. Stein hits the mat and lays there, prone, and CJ covers. Again, a slow 2 count and a reaction of dissatisfaction from CJ.
(Tom) Someone get the ref a coffee. I’ve seen faster work in an old age home’s bingo night.
(JB) The count doesn’t seem that bad, at least not worth all the looks from Johnson.
Johnson looks around as he has things in control, before deciding that he’s going to head to the top rope.
(JB) This isn’t normal for Charles Johnson.
CJ steps out on the apron and begins to climb, although he loses his footing once, and it slows him up, just enough so that Dan Stein is able to get to his feet and scale the inside of the ropes. The two go back and forth, with punch after punch, before CJ wins the battle and knocks Stein back down. He makes his way to the top and looks down, coming off the ropes with a flying legdrop.
(JB) NOBODY HOME!!
Indeed, Stein rolls out of the way and pounces on CJ, mounting him and landing rights and lefts to the head. He dismounts CJ and comes off the ropes, hitting a seated dropkick to the torso as CJ sits up. Stein looks around and realizes this could be his opening, as he goes and scales the ropes. He also, however, takes a second too long as CJ meets him, knocking his legs out from underneath and crotching Stein on the buckles. CJ wastes no time scaling the ropes and cinching Stein in. He hooks his arm around his own neck and lifts Stein up, nailing a picture perfect superplex to the middle of the ring. Stein hits like a rock, and CJ crawls over for the cover.
1…………….
2……………………………………
(JB) KICKOUT BY STEIN!!
(Tom) Again, that ref took forever on that count, and Johnson doesn’t like it.
CJ Gets up and pushes the ref back into a corner, going off again and again about what he perceives to be a slow count
(JB) He better be careful here.
CJ leaves the ref for the time being, and with a very “eff it all” attitude, he leaves the ring and grabs Gilmore’s seat from underneath him, folding the chair up and sliding into the ring. The ref gets in his way, grabbling the chair. The two have a short tug of war over the illegal object, until CJ shoves the chair into the ref’s stomach, knocking him backwards and gaining possession of the chair once and for all. He lays the chair center ring and hooks Stein up in a suplex position, but he’s got bigger things on his mind, as he lifts Stein up, and hold him for a few seconds over the chair, before crashing down with his signature stalling brain buster.
(Tom) CORPORATE COUP!!
CJ gets the chair out of the ring and makes the cover…but the bell rings. The ref, sitting in the ring in pain, calls for CJ’s Disqualification.
(Gilmore) Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this match, as a result of a disqualification…DAN STEIN!!!
A chorus of boos rain down for the actions of CJ as he tells the fans, in his own way, who’s number one.
(Tom) What the hell!! CJ didn’t do anything wrong!!
(JB) Tom, he basically hit the ref with a chair!!
(Tom) Oh stop, he didn’t really hit him. He nudged him.
(JB) Nudge or not, this match is over folks, Charles Johnson is disqualified form using that chair in plain view of the official, after he shoved the official to the ground.
COMMERCIAL
Laying It Out Plainlike
We open outside of The Reaper's dressing room, where Amie Carmichael is standing by awaiting the aforementioned Jerseyan. There's a lot of commotion and the like, as the door barely opens and Aarons steps out in his wrestling attire with the hood thrown over his head. He closes the door behind him as he makes a fist, slowly patting it against his open palm as he rolls his neck in a clockwise motion.
(Amie) Tonight, you and a partner of your choosing will go head to head with The Trust Fund Kids in a Three Wishes qualifying match for you and your partner, IF you win.
(The Reaper) IF...I win? Amie, Amie, Amie...you seem to be missing something. You see, the last time I was in the ring with ole Travis Cumling, I had him beaten. There's no denying that. You see, he knew what I knew which was...one on one with me, he can't win. For all that talk you spewed, you had to go and have a little ten minute time limit put on our match. So before you go singing that whole 'Reaper never beat me' thing, let's be clear. I beat you without pinning you the first time out. Period, end of story.
(Amie) So what about tonight? Just who is your partner going to be?
This is where the smile on Leonard's face gets a little wider.
(The Reaper) I'm glad you asked. You see, I had to search far and wide to find a person who's not just capable of watching my back, but someone who's more than able to walk with me all the way to the tag straps in Three Wishes. You see Amie, the person I picked is none other than Charlene's husband...and he's also my cousin and longtime tag team partner, Lorenzo Richards.
There is a huge pop from the fans in the audience who know what's coming next. The folks who have followed L's career prior to the NAFW, know what L's cousin is capable of and the two of them together aren't anything nice.
(Amie) But isn't he the same man that Vanessa hired to...
(The Reaper) Yeah, but as I tried to tell Vanessa, his loyalty was never with her to begin with. Why he did what he did is between me and him. This was all planned from the word 'go' and simply put Vanessa, you failed...AGAIN. So who's next for you to try and recruit to run me out of town on a rail, hmm? I'd suggest Castleberry, but well, I'd really hate to put a hex on his career. I mean, seemingly every man you end up trying to back either ends up flat on his ass...like Bishop at Last Rites...
An evil chuckle from Aarons.
(The Reaper) Or missing the mark entirely, or purposely take your choice, as your last pick did. So why don't you do us both a favor and just...go home. Spend your spoiled brat money and date some limp [bleep] putz who'll only get it up with the help of some blue pill. You and I are through. You come back after me again and rest assured love, it won't matter who's your hired dog, you go out with them next time.
(Amie) Then there's the matter of Heatwave, who's made it perfectly clear that he's not going to rest until he's exacted his revenge on you once and for all.
A simple roll of the eyes by Aarons.
(The Reaper) Like I told him the last time we talked face to face...if it's a vendetta he wants, it'll be Devastation he gets. I don't have time for these petty little games. So let me take the more direct approach. Heatwave. You saw what happened to you the last time you tried to test me, boi. This time around, I'm not pulling any punches. This time, there will be no turning back. So I'm telling you, for the FINAL TIME...let this go. Because the second you fire the first blow, it'd better take me out for good because you're not going to like my retaliatory strike. Which brings me to the Two F[Bleep]g Bitches we face tonight.
Short pause as he listens to the fans chanting his name, which brings a rather calming influence over him for the time being.
(The Reaper) Tonight boys, since you want to throw your hats into the tag team realm, my cousin and I are going to show you that you're way out of your league. Tonight you find out exactly why we are The Destruction Crew and why simply put, two spoiled brats like yourselves aren't any match for two rough, tough, hombres as my cousin and I are. You started this tonight and this will end with you two laid out, with us standing tall as we shall stand tall at the end of Three Wishes with a wish in hand and the NAFW Tag Team Titles on our shoulders.
Beat.
(The Reaper) The Gospel has been spoken, gentlemen. Your Devastation, is inevitable.
It's here that he walks off as we send it back to the announce position.
The lights cut out in the arena, bathing it in darkness, the only lighting is from a few camera flashes. Suddenly, a guitar riff pierces the air over the PA, blue lights flashing at the entryway, revealing Castleberry standing, his arms foled, staring at the ring, a look of fierce determination on his face. The crowd cheers as he stands, surveying his surroundings.
Its twilight and I wake up hot
My body’s soaked in a cold, cold sweat
I reenact the lurid scenes
And clawed engravings in my head
The first verse of Megadeth's "Die Dead Enough" plays, as Castleberry starts his march down to the ring as the chorus picks up.
Oh, I can’t punch hard enough (and I run)
I can’t kick high enough (and I run)
I can’t shoot straight enough (and I run)
I can’t hold on enough (and I run)
Oh, I can’t stay down enough (and I run)
I can’t take pain enough (and I run)
I can’t bleed fast enough
I can’t die dead enough
Castleberry stands in front of the ring, stretching a bit, crackling his knuckles, then his neck, making sure everything is lose.
The air is thick, but the oxygen’s thin
My heart is beating like a drum, boom!
And ice is flowing through my veins
Explosives on my lips and in my lungs
He hops into the ring, as the lights go back on in the arena, waiting is his corner for the opening bell, the chrorus playing again, fading out.
(Troy) Entering the ring first, from San Diego, California...he weighs in at two hundred and thirty pounds! He is the Creeping . Here is...MIKE! CASTLEBERRY!!!
(JB) I'm sure Castleberry's relieved he won't have Dan Stein to deal with this week. The past two editions of Annihilation have seen him choked out and put through our announce position by the man who refers to himself as "Lights Out".
(Tom) Well, here's hoping he keeps himself and his opponent on that side of the arena tonight away from our position. You know how aggrevating it is to have to stand in the midst of a wrecked table for close to a half hour, forty-five minutes? It's not fun on the corns, Mann-nut let me tell ya.
GANSTA' GRILLZ!
A red spotlight appears at the top of the ramp and the lights dim slightly. "Air Force Ones" by Young Jeezy is pushed through the speakers. Through the curtain the Madman from Miami known as Heatwave step out in a pair of Nike jogging pants and gloved fists. to a cheering oviation as he makes his way towards the ring with the red spotlight following his trail. Making his way inside of the ring, the light are brought back up as Heatwave hops onto the nearby turnbuckle, throwing his gloved fists into the air. He hops down heading towards the opposite turnbuckle as a wave of flash bulbs come over him. He hops down, taking a post on the turnbuckle waiting for his rival to make his way down the ring.
(Troy) And his opponent hails from Miami, Florida and weighs in at two hundred and sixty-four pounds! He is the Madman From Miami, here is...
Troy doesn't have a chance to get out the name, because in a flash Heatwave has sprinted towards Castleberry going low and taking him off his feet with a football tackle commonly referred to as a spear. Heatwave is punishing Castleberry with hard rights to the face as he has his head in a headlock, stretching the ref's count to 4 before he gets up off of him. Heatwave starts to stomp the proverbial mudhole in Castleberry again and again before driving a series of knees into the ribs and chest of the Californian. He takes off his shirt and starts to choke Mike with it, as the referee again starts to count again. After the count of 4 and Heatwave's rather reluctant behavior to let up, Referee Phil Redding starts to threaten Heatwave with a DQ which finally gets him off Castleberry. The only problem is now, Heatwave's in Redding's face.
(JB) On the last edition of Annihilation, he was ambushed out the gate by Johnson who didn't even let him in the ring. This week, he's basically pounding Castleberry senseless and now he's in Redding's face.
(Tom) Redding should've known his place and stayed out of the way. Heatwave's just letting his inner Madman out for the world to see, just as he said in his promo spot earlier in the week.
(JB) Either way you draw it up, Heatwave's furious and he's letting his feeling be known to the referee which is giving Castleberry ample time to recover.
As Heatwave continues jawing with the referee, Castleberry is on his knees struggling to get his wind back. Heatwave finally turns to and when he does, Castleberry's in mid-sprint before he drops Heatwave with a spinning heel kick. He stomps away at Heatwave and pulls him to his feet, locking in a front facelock before setting him up for a suplex. He brings him over in a hurry for a crisp snap suplex, as he sits up with a rather arrogant smirk on his face. He motions for Redding to count and as he does, Castleberry pulls Heatwave's head off the mat laughing. He starts to land some stiff shots to the chops as he pulls Heatwave to his feet. He lands a stiff knife edge chop to the chest before going downstairs with a kick to the knee. He runs off the ropes and comes back dropping low catching Heatwave with a chop block.
(JB) Looks like Castleberry's done his homework, as he's going to work on the right leg of Heatwave.
(Tom) The man's a former United States Champion, hell, he's the only man in the NAFW to claim a victory over The Ripper...
(JB) Reaper.
(Tom) Same difference, since he's been in the NAFW. He's been around the block and he's about to take Heatwave to school.
Castleberry starts to stomp away at the knee of Heatwave, before cinching in a Spinning Toe Hold to further things along as it were. Heatwave's writhing in pain as Castleberry makes an adjustment in mid-move and decides to lock on the Figure Four right in the middle of the ring. Heatwave's screaming now as Castleberry sits back on it, rocking as he tugs at the leg and knee as Heatwave flails aimlessly before his back hits the mat. Redding drops into position for the pin, but only gets two as Heatwave pops back up. He's fuming as he stares lasers straight into Castleberry which he tries to knock out of him with a couple of hard shots, that do absolutely nothing but rile him up even further as he fights to turn it over. Castleberry puts up a rather admirable fight, trying to keep Heatwave in a horizontal position but the strength advantage doesn't do him any favors, neither does a 34 pound weight discrepancy in Heatwave's favor. Heatwave gets the move overturned putting the pressure on Castleberry who finally lets go of the hold, as he scurries off in pain from nearly having his knee torn from its socket.
(JB) What a match we've had so far here. Heatwave getting that Figure Four reversed should buy him some time as Castleberry's clearly feeling the aftereffects of that hold being turned on him.
(Tom) Which knee of Heatwave's was it that had every CL known to man torn out of place?
(JB) That would be his left.
(Tom) Which knee did he have worked over?
(JB) The right.
(Tom) Figures ole Castleberries would have enough sense to work over the wrong knee.
(JB) Still, very sound strategy to say the least by the West Coast Crippler.
(Tom) Yeah, yeah...whatever Mann-nuts.
Heatwave's still worse for wear, but he's on all fours, trying to get back to a vertical base. Castleberry's hobbling around a little trying to shake off what little pain there might be from that hold, as he turns his attention back towards Heatwave who's getting to his feet in the corner. He's perched on the opposite side waiting on Heatwave to turn around as the crowd wills the Madman on. Heatwave is finally back on his feet and turns just as Castleberry is in mid charge. Castleberry's body hits nothing but turnbuckle as Heatwave moves out in the nick of time. He runs off the ropes and catches Castleberry with a cross body block to turn the tide back in his favor. He hits the mat screaming in a gutteral roar, as he smacks the mat with both hands as he gets to his feet gutting out the pain in his right knee. He grabs Castleberry and stuffs him between his legs, before drilling him with a cradle piledriver.
(JB) Looks like Heatwave's all systems go now. He's got things rolling in his general direction and he's looking to put Castleberry away.
(Tom) Gee, ya think Mann-wart? That's what he's paid to do you git.
Heatwave is practically snarling at this point, as he stalks Castleberry who's just coming around after the cradle piledriver. He turns and tries to catch Castleberry with the Inferno, but Castleberry fights out of it. Castleberry grabs Heatwave for what looks like the Last Breath 2 and starts for the turnbuckle only to be thrown into it by Heatwave just as Castleberry was about to run up the turnbuckle. He doesn't let go though, locking his arms around Castleberry for a quick German Suplex which is followed up by another one and then one more for good measure. After the third one, he lets go, spinning Castleberry around and connecting with an Inferno. He doesn't let go though, as he pulls Castleberry up once again and hitting him with two more Infernos in rapid fire succession before he makes the pin. The 3 is academic as the bell rings and it's a wrap.
(Troy) The winner of this bout...HEAT-WAVE!!!
(JB) The look on Heatwave's face is almost chilling to a fault as he appears to be almost stoic with his reaction after that win.
(Tom) The man's got tunnel vision right now. He's finally got an opportunity to get his hands on the man who broke his wife's neck and quite frankly, I can't say I blame him.
(JB) Either way you slice it, Heatwave was almost emotionless during the bulk of this match. He nearly choked Castleberry out with his shirt in the early going and then, at the end he hits him with not one, but three Infernos back to back to back.
(Tom) Probably letting The Reaper know what's in his future. Revenge is a dish best served cold, but if Heatwave has his way, that thing's gonna be piping hot Mann-cow. Not that you'd know anything about that.
Old School Empire vs. Crazy Boy & Andy D
A siren hits the speakers and the word "EMPIRE" appears on the video screen.
The lights flash red and blue, as the camera pans around the arena. Lil' Wayne's "Fireman" starts playing. As the intro continues, the lights flash red to black to blue and back to black as a spot light is focused on the curtain. The song kicks in and Dustin Thomas blows through the entry way, his hand pointed towards the stage. New School points up, and Shane comes out of the curtain, all oiled up and ready to go.
Dustin taunts the fans as he walks down the aisle, while Shane takes every opportunity to get in his bodybuilder poses. When he reaches the bottom of the ramp, the Alpha flexes his biceps and points his toe, much to the hatred of the fans. Dustin slides into the ring, and leaps up to the turnbuckle to soak in the jeers. The Alpha hops up the steps, and climbs into the ring. He looks around the arena before stepping between the ropes. Dustin pats him on the back one more time before Shane makes his finale pose in the middle of the ring.
(Troy) Dustin, and Shane Thomas. OLD SCHOOL EMPIRE!!!
(JB) This team has already qualified for Three Wishes.
(Tom) WOO Slow night it seems finally over almost.
(Troy) Introducing next. Their opponents. Introducing first…. Hailing from the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. CRAZY Boy!
"Fully Alive" by Flyleaf hits the PA as the lights dim and then flicker out. Strobe lights flicker on as smoke fills the entryway and the ramp. All the sudden, a figure comes out from the back and stands in the smoke, right fist pumped up in the air. The strobe lights make the figure seem like it is blinking as the figure cuts through the smoke. The crowd cheers as it is NAFW's very own psycho, Crazy Boy. CB walks down the ramp, adknowledging the crowd as he slides under the bottom ropes. The lights flicker back on as CB pumps his fist in the air, runs around off the ropes and then turns, and waits for his opponent to come.
(Troy) and his partner. Andy D!
"The Arena lights go down as the 'Ace' Signature logo appears on screen. A large '1' is spray panted over the top before Keep Yourself Alive II kicks in over the PA. Andy comes out and heads towards the ring, hand slapping a couple of the audience along the way. Andy climbs into the ring and heads to his turnbuckle, flipping his bucket hat off his head and placing on the metal part of the turnbuckle. He takes off his shades and places them on the hat before turning around ready for the match.
(JB) These two have also Qualified. it’s a small test before the Three Wishes match.
(Tom) *snore*
The bell rings. Dustin and Crazy are the first two into the ring. They circle each other. They lock up, and struggle, but Dustin gets the knee into CB’s gut. Leading CB around the ring Dustin lands a few hard forearms to the back of his head. He then takes CB over to his team’s corner and tags in Shane. Dustin holds CB open for an attack, and as Shane comes in and gets a hard kick to CB’s midsection.
The ref finally gets Dustin back onto the apron. Shane on the other hand forces CB back to the middle before giving him a Russian leg sweep. CB goes down and Shane goes for the pin only to get cracked on the back of his skull by Andy. Ref forces Andy back to his corner as the Thomas brothers both double team CB. CB manages to break away from the bothers and gets a quick tag into Andy
Like a bolt of lightning. Andy knocks Shane, and then Dustin down to the matt. He then DDT Dustin down to the matt. He then gets into a fist fight with Shane. CB manages to get back to his feet and rolls Dustin to the outside and begins to brawl with him on the outside. Inside Shane gets a sneaking schoolboy roll up on Andy, but only manages a long two count.
As Shane gets back to his feet. Suddenly a ball like object is thrown right at him and hits him square in the head. On the outside CB has gotten some unwanted help from an old ally. Snake takes out Dustin from behind but leaves CB alone. CB gets back in the right and takes Shane down. Shane gets up slowly as he is hit by Andy D’s Dragon Bite, and gets the solid one two three.
(JB) What!!! Snake just helped CB, and Andy win.
(Tom) Sna…Who? What? We are done that is…
(JB) Shut up Tom I think Snake has a message for CB, and Andy…
(Snake) I’ve got a bigger surprise than what you just witnessed boys… My announcement is that I’m using my Wish that I won from you Crazy Boy… And I’m using it to enter myself into the Three Wishes match at Death Wish! And my partner?.... WILSON! Not only that, but you’ll see us in action next week as we have ourselves a little tune up match. Ha ha ha ha… See you at Death Wish, Crazy Boy!
(JB) Snake must be delirious! He’s tag teaming with a volleyball.
(Tom) I think Wilson is going to be a real force to be reckoned with!
COMMERCIAL
Mike Stryker vs. Aliester Essex
A clusterfuck of drum and bass Begin to thunder and all of the lights in the arena mysteriously tint to a sickly shade of gray, as Trent Reznor's voice pierces through the boos and jeers from the crowd, reciting the lyrics to his song "The Line Begins to Blur”.
Aliester Essex steps through the curtain wearing warmup pants and a black t-shirt, looking as nervous as nervous can look. The crowds booing and jeering turn to applause, not for the hated manager, but for the beating he will surely be receiving tonight. He walks towards the ring slowly, head down, like someone walking the last mile to his lethal injection.
As he gets to the ring he climbs the steps and stand on the apron as the crowd eggs him on to get into the ring. Essex begins to step through the ropes, but stops himself, backing off and standing back up. He looks around, desperately looking for some kind of way out, but only seeing the crowd jeering his actions. Brazenly, he lowers his head and dives through the ropes quickly. As he looks up and around, reality sets in that there’s simply nobody coming to save him…the only person coming is his opponent.
As if on cue, The house lights go down as "Til I Collapse" by Eminem begins to play through the arena. As the song goes through it's dark intro, various scenes from NYC come across the NAFWTron.
YO LEFT, YO LEFT, YO LEFT RIGHT LEFT!!
As the line repeats and the dialouge of the song starts in the background, the scene changes to a simple panoramic of the NYC Skyline. When the drums kick in, lightning fills the sky with each beat, and through the cloud cover, the word "STRYKER" can be made out with each bolt of lightning.
When the song finally kicks in, The house lights come up, with a bright white light punctuating each clap in the songs beat. Mike Stryker comes out in his black sweatshirt, hood up, hair hanging down in front of his face. He marches out, and as the crowd gives a roar of approval, he raises his right fist over his head. He gives the crowd a quick look before he begins marching himself to the ring, oblivious to the cheers.
Stryker Rolls under the bottom rope and gets up on the opposite turnbuckles, again raising his fist as the crowd roars once more. He crosses the ring and repeats the action to another cheer. He dismounts fom the buckles and pulls off his sweatshirt, tossing it aside and pacing the ring. He stares a hole though Essex, smirking, reveling in what he knows is finally his chance to get some kind of revenge for what happened at Last Rites.
The bell rings as the crowd cheers with fervor. Stryker stand in one corner, while Essex cowers in the opposite one. Stryker points at Essex, then at himself as if to say “just you and me here now”. Stryker slowly stalks his way, one step at a time towards Essex, who’s slumped back, arms on the ropes, like a cornered rat. Stryker gets within only a few steps of Essex and starts to chuckle. He fakes a punch and Essex cowers, whimpering in the corner. Stryker pulls back the fist and begins to laugh, along with the 15,000 people in the audience. Essex looks around, face reddened with embarrassment, furious that he’s been mocked. Without the benefit of thought, he lashes out, slapping Stryker across the face. The smirk and the laugh instantly disappear as Stryker touches his face, then looks at Essex with nothing but Venom. Essex’s actions hit him like a ton of bricks as he tries to scamper, but without success. Stryker grabs him by the throat and powers him back into the corner, obliteration on his mind.
(JB) What the….NO!!
In a flash, nearly 7 feet of the monster known as Hush comes out from the crowd and slides into the ring. The crowd gasps as he stomps his way to the corner where Stryker has Essex. Stryker senses the danger and turns, but it’s too little too late, as he walks right into the Echoes of Eternity.
(Tom) SET UP!! BRILLIANCE!!
(JB) Hush is Here!! Essex was lying through his teeth earlier tonight!!
(Tom) He sensed that he’d be in trouble tonight and he held his trump card for just this moment!!
Hush peels Stryker off the canvas and whips him off the ropes, delivering a decapitating big boot on the reboud and Stryker hits the mat, hard. Hush stands over Stryker, who’s down on his stomach. He picks Stryker’s arms up and places his foot on the back of Stryker head, before letting go and stomping down viciously.
(Tom) CURB STOMP!!
(JB) My God…Stryker might be in a serious condition here.
Essex instructs his charge to pick Stryker up and tie him into the ropes. Hush obliges and puts a prone Hitman into the ropes, twisting them into each other and tying his arms up on the process. Stryker’s head has begun to bleed from the curb stomp. Essex looks at Stryker’s head and chuckles to himself. He walks up and helps himself to another slap across Stryker’s face. Stryker has no reaction, as he’s out on his feet, so to speak. Essex tells Hush to have at Stryker while he steps back. Hush lowers a few hard right hands into the Stryker’ head, which may or may not still be feeling the effects of a concussion.
(JB) Stryker could be killed out there!!
Essex could care less about mortality, as he reaches into his pocket…
(Tom) Oh God, Manneater…LOOK!!
Essex pulls out his bounty, pa set of brass knuckles and slips them onto his hand gleefully.
(JB) NO!!!!
Essex gets a few steps of a running start and throws his brass-covered fist as hard as he can at Stryker, connecting to his skull and widening the cut. Blood spills down his face as Essex cackles and Hush stands tall. Essex looks down and has himself one more good shot with the Knuckles. Stryker, unconscious, hangs in the ropes like a sick version of a crucifixion. Essex and Hush stand in the center of the ring, proudly, as “The line begins to blur” blares over the loudspeakers.
(JB) GET SOME MEDICAL HELP OUT HERE!! FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, SOMEONE CHECK ON STRYKER!!
JB’s pleas to the back are all you hear as the crowd boos with sincere hatred at the duo in the ring. Fade to black.
COMMERCIAL
The Destruction Crew vs. The Trust Fund Kids
We come back from commercial and this huge tag team match is underway.
(JB) Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, our main event match is underway
(Tom) And The Destruction Crew is one step away from being the latest laughing stock in the NAFW on the Trust Fund Kid’s path to glory at Three Wishes.
(JB) That’s right Bear. If Reaper and Richards don’t pull this one out, they won’t be going to the Three Wishes match, while the Trust Fund kids already secured their match months ago it feels like.
In the ring, Owens and Richards are exchanging quick rights and lefts, with Richards getting the upperhand. He swings for a big standing clothesline, but Owens ducks and counters with a neckbreaker. Both men get back up to their feet and grapple. Owens attempts an Irish whip but its reversed by Richards. Richards telegraphs a clothesline and Owens ducks it, slams on the breaks, and elbows Richards in the back of the neck. Richards stumbles forward a few feet and Owens kicks out one of his legs, leaving him proposing on one knee. Owens runs the ropes and steps up for a shining wizard kick but Richards ducks the kick. Owens quickly finds his feet, and finds himself on the other end of a rising clothesline from Richards. Richards waves his hands for Owens to get back up to his feet but the former FHC gets up and tags out in frustration.
(JB) Owens appears to be targeting the neck of Richards, but Richards is proving resilient.
(Tom) Its only a matter of time before he hits the Difference Maker on that neck!
Cunning enters the ring and begins talking smack to Richards who tells him to bring it. The two quickly grapple and Cunning uses his amateur background to wrap around Richards and quickly roll him up with a school boy. He’s facing the Reaper’s corner as he does this and grabs a fistful of tights for more leverage. The ref slides down for the count not noticing the cheating, and in comes Reaper into the ring. Cunning releases the roll up and quickly points to Reaper illegally entering the ring. The ref pushes back Reaper and the Trust Fund Kids capitalize on this. As Reaper argues with the ref, Cunning has whipped Richards into the corner where Owens grabs him and nails a neckbreaker off the apron, bouncing the neck of Richards off the top rope! Cunning quickly capitalizes with a jumping pile driver and makes the cover… 1…2… Foot on the ropes!
(JB) Richards refuses to give up. He just needs to make the tag out to his partner.
(Tom) I have a feeling he’ll have to work through some more 2 on 1 to do that.
Cunning can’t believe it and starts to argue with the referee, complaining about the slow count. Richards is dazed but on his feet. Cunning approaches him but Richards rakes his eyes to buy himself some additional recovery time. Cunning kicks him in the knee for that and the two begin trading blows. Cunning sends Richards off the ropes and looks for a big mule kick, but Richards intercepts it. He spins Cunning around, quickly grasping his leg, and hits a huge leg capture suplex! Both men are down and Richards crawls to his corner where Reaper is waiting to make the hot tag. He crawls and crawls. Cunning is no where near as bad off, even after that desperation maneuver. He sizes up his options. He can either go after Richards or tag out to Owens, and the former is more plausible at the moment. He lunges and grabs the ankle of Richards, but its too late! Richards makes the hot tag and Cunning is a sitting duck for Reaper to come in and mud hole stomp!
(Tom) Damn that Reaper!
(JB) Leonard Aarons has been waiting to get his hands on Trevor Cunning since their match ended in a draw last week, and he’s finally got him after that hot tag!
Reaper is laying a beating on Cunning. Owens tries to interfere but it gets him no where as the ref blocks him in the ropes. This allows Reaper to capitalize some more, hitting a big DDT. He sends Cunning reeling with a series of clotheslines before grabbing him by the neck for the Chokeslam from Illtown. The Foundation Heavyweight Champion is not finished though, because he knees Aarons in the balls to break the hold. This allows Cunning to take advantage of his prone position and nail a German suplex. Both men slowly get up to their feet and exchange punches once more, each man blocking the others. Reaper finally hits a big uppercut that sends Cunning stumbling over to the opposing team’s corner, where he meets a trash talking Richards. Cunning doesn’t like this, so he simply knocks Richards off the apron. Reaper capitalizes on Cunning turning his back by shoulder tackling him into the corner from behind. Cunning faces the corner, trying to hold himself up with the ropes on both sides. Reaper stalks him, signaling for his chokeslam finisher, but Keith Owens will have none of that. As Reaper moves in closer to Cunning, Owens enters the ring and begins to run at Reaper. Richards yells a warning from the outside and quickly throws himself through the middle rope, hanging on as he dangles on the outside. Owens seems to have been attempting the Owens Express on Reaper, but instead hits his own partner with two knees to the back. Richards drags Owens to the outside, and Aarons swings under the top rope and rolls on top of Cunning. One… two… three!
(JB) The Destruction Crew has done it! They’ve defeated the Trust Fund Kids and are moving on to the Three Wishes match at Death Wish!
(Tom) No! How did that move by Owens defeat his own partner?! Damn it!
The referee is quick to raise the arms of the Destruction Crew. Keith looks slightly pissed off from the outside of the ring, but begins to head up the ramp without his partner. Cunning rolls to the outside to claim his Foundation Heavyweight Championship belt from the time keepers table and looks on in confusion, anger, and disbelief that he just suffered a pinfall loss to Aaron Leonard.
(JB) The real question is, what’s going on between Owens and Cunning though? Owens accidentally cost his team the match, then just walked away from his partner.
TDC continues up the ramp, delighted in their victory. Cunning follows at a slow pace behind. TDC are about to step through the back when Reaper hits the ground, followed by Richards. There is a bit of shock until Keith Owens steps back through the curtain with the kendo stick in hand. He hits a few more shots on both downed men until Trevor gets to the top of the ramp.
(JB) That Owens wasn’t running away, he was setting up a surprise attack! The Destruction Crew is laid out! What price will the Trust Fund Kids pay for this second ambush tonight?
Cunning walks over to the prone bodies and drops the FHC in the face of the battered Reaper, talking more shit.
Owens raises Trevor’s arm as the Trust Fund Kids stand tall over the Destruction Crew.
Roll credits.
