The Start of Something…
(JB) How the hell does this happen every week?
(Tom) All you need to do is get some of those little blue pills, Mann-Wagon.
(JB) I’m talking about the idiot in the ring.
Cut from the announce position directly to the ring – where we find one half of the Tag Team Champions – Trevor Cunning. Cunning has a bottle of Jack in his left hand, a mic in his right, and his Tag Team title belt slung across his shoulder. His jeans are pulled low and he’s shirtless – popped polo in a ball on the mat by his feet.
(Tom) My hero!
(Trevor) Listen up, flesh buckets – before the sheer magnitude of what Trevor’s about to say – before Trevor’s speech leaves you deaf, dumb and drunk on every word.
Cunning takes a swig from his Jack and spits a mouthful into the air – basking in the falling molasses mist.
(Trevor) From day one Trevor Cunning has made very clear that every day in this business belongs to me and that every, single old, tired, fragile, has been who deigns to step in our rings would be dealt with accordingly.
David Kurresh, Jaime Alejandro, Diamond Del Carver, and now – VYC and Kyle Cole – have all been taken care of by the Trust and exposed as the washed up sacks of ass they are.
(JB) Apparently Trevor’s forgetting about when Kyle Cole kicked his teeth down his throat.
(Tom) Did he win the match, or did he win the match?
(JB) He forgot how though – must’ve been the blow to the head.
(Trevor) Now – Trevor’s sure you’re all wondering why we’re starting Annihilation with his handsome, smiling face and chiseled features – and he’s going to tell you.
For over one month – the focus of this Foundation has been on who set Leonard Aarons on fire – and not upon the man who fed the fuel for the fire to foster, ignite and burn that miserable son of a bitch – that ignorant, arrogant, thief – giving him exactly what he deserves.
Tonight – I want it to be known – Trevor wants it to be known – to remind that jackass Buchanan and the suits in the main office that the man with a rightful claim to the Foundation Heavyweight Championship…
(JB) Who, Mike Stryker?
(Tom) Shush, Mann-Wheel!
(Trevor) I want to remind the world that I am still waiting for my goddamn rematch.
(Tom) The man has a point, Mann-Wagon.
(JB) He lost every right to a rematch with that vicious, needless attack on the Reaper!
(Tom) All he did was throw a drink or twelve in the guy’s face – it’s not Trevor’s fault that Jack Daniels is flammable.
(Trevor) Trevor doesn’t care if he has to walk into Chain Reaction – first man to enter, and pin every single has been, wannabe, and never was in the match… I will beat the living hell out of everyone in that building – wrestlers, officials, concessions, fans, armed police officers, janitors – if it means Trevor gets his goddamn belt back.
Now… all that talk has left Trevor in the mood for a fight – so why don’t Slush and Ammo round up Jo Jo the Idiot Circus Boy walk down here so Trevor can once again prove why he is the best in the world…
(Tom) I don’t know about you, Mann-Hole… but I’m inspired.
(JB) If Cunning was any more full of crap – his eyes would be brown.
The lights cut out and the rapid chords and drums of "Riot" by Three Days Grace ring through the arena. A red spotlight shines on the top of the stage, and three figures step out. In front are Slush and Ammo, in their dark red tights, both wearing fingerless gloves and black sunglasses. Behind them comes their manager Twitch, carrying Blake Bouchard over his shoulder. As the music goes into the chorus, The Goods stalk down to the ring. Slush slides under the bottom rope, then Ammo pulls himself up onto the apron and steps over the top rope. Slush and Ammo toss their sunglasses out to Twitch and prepare for the coming match.
(JB) Is Cunning asking for the bell? Keith Owens isn’t even out here, yet?
(Tom) Do you really think that Cunning needs Keith Owens to take on these two clowns? Come on, Mann-Wheel – just having Twitch in their corner takes their collective IQ’s down about sixty points – we’re lucky they can tie their boots – let alone wrestle a match!
The Trust Fund Kids (Trevor Cunning and Keith Owens) (TT) vs. The Goods (Slush and Ammo)
Non-Title
Cunning begins stretching as Slush steps to the outside – leaving the big man, Ammo to begin with the former Foundation Heavyweight Champ. They step to the center of the ring, where Cunning offers Ammo a handshake. Ammo looks around to the crowd, asking if he should take Cunning’s hand. The fans answer with a resounding no.
He offers his opposite hand.
Cunning walks away and the moment he turns around, he walks right into a right hand that knocks him on his ass. Trevor scrambles to his feet, only for Ammo to push him back against the ropes and irish-whip him. Lariat is ducked once, then again on the return. Cunning tries a shoulder tackle, but Ammo side steps, and pulls him into the corner – the corner where Keith Owens would be standing had Cunning bothered to wait for him. Ten punch count sing along leads to a hip toss out of the corner, and a full nelson slam on a dazed opponent – and then Ammo points to Slush.
(JB) What was that you were saying about Cunning not needing Owens?
(Tom) Shut the hole you put food into. And I’m not talking about your wife.
Slush tags in – and one wishbone leg splitter – Cunning’s ball bag is a damn Damaged Package. Now – Keith Owens is up on the ramp, dragging his title belt behind him – boots still half laced, obviously unprepared for the earliness of this encounter.
(Tom) Nice of Owens to show up… what, was he at the hospital?
(JB) One – his girlfriend is seriously injured. Two – you said Trevor didn’t even need Owens!
(Tom) That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be here.
Slush hits a pair of elbow drops and a two count as Keith hops up on the apron. He grabs the tag rope with one hand as he attempts to lace his boots with the other. Irish-whip leads to the Ice Breaker flying back elbow and another two count.
Slush then heads to the top rope – looking for the Melting Point. Cunning scrambles to his feet and hits the top rope, crotching Slush. He tags Owens.
Keith steps in the ring and immediately is knocked to the mat with a top rope Ice Breaker. Slush makes a quick tag to Ammo – who charges in to meet Owens. Keith ducks a lariat and dropkicks Ammo’s knee, bringing the big man down to one knee. He then hits a pair of martial arts kicks – one to the back, one to the chest, and then leaps and dropkicks Ammo right in the face.
Pin attempt ends at two when Ammo presses Owens off. He tags Cunning. Double irish-whip sends Ammo across the ring. The Trust Fund Kids miss a double lariat, Ammo misses one of his own, and a double boot to the gut leaves Ammo sitting duck for a double suplex. Owens hits the ropes and allows Cunning to back body drop him onto Ammo – landing square with a senton on Ammo’s chest.
(JB) The Trust Fund Kids hit the Trust Fall!
(Tom) You had any doubts?
(JB) They are impressive, Bear – when they work as a team – instead of when certain members decide to be selfish and look out only for themselves.
(Tom) Don’t be so harsh on Keith, Mann-wheel.
Cunning grabs Ammo’s arms and locks in a straight jacket sleeper, falling to the mat and bending Ammo’s back over Cunning’s own knees. The crowd rallies behind Ammo, who quickly rolls out of the submission, and uses his power to lift Cunning up, even though Cunning is still holding onto Ammo’s arms. Blind tag – and Ammo drops Cunning, right in time for Slush to hit him with a side slam.
(JB) Priority Shipment! Cover… one… two!
(Tom) Owens breaks up the pin fall!
Slush and Owens begin brawling, with Slush getting the better. He irish-whips Keith, only to eat a spinning wheel kick on the return. Difference Maker attempt is blocked with a push off – sending Owens into Ammo’s waiting arms for a spinebuster. Cunning allows Ammo to turn around, before hitting him with the Boot and Rally. He covers – but is told by Walt Mason that Ammo isn’t the legal man. Slush takes this opportunity to leap off the top with the Melting Point. He crashes down on top of Cunning and covers.
Owens pushes him off at two.
Owens pulls Slush up and irish-whips him. Slush ducks a lariat, and leapfrogs Ammo, who takes Keith to the outside with a Cactus Jack style clothesline. Cunning, now on his knees, is perfect prey for the Judgment Call. Slush leaps, but misses, landing hard on his posterior. Cunning hits the ropes, only for Twitch to catch his leg with his infamous towel.
(Tom) Tell Twitch to stop, Mason!
(JB) That wasn’t Twitch, Bear… it was Blake Bouchard.
Cunning turns back around, ducks a charging Slush, and scoops him up and tosses him to the outside. Slush lands on the apron, buries his shoulder in Cunning’s gut – and sunset flips over. Cunning falls down – grabs the ropes.
On the outside – Ammo has won a war of attrition, taking Keith Owens to the floor with a running big boot. He climbs up on the apron, kicks Cunning square in the jaw, allowing Slush to complete the sunset flip.
It only gets two.
(JB) Damnit!
(Tom) Chicanery! I call shenanigans on the Goods!
Now pissed off, Cunning gets up and turns Slush inside out with a lariat. On the outside, Owens pulls Ammo off of the apron, slamming his face on the ring apron on the way down. He then tosses Ammo into the steel steps before hopping back into the corner. He climbs back into the ring.
Cunning, seeing Keith, calls for the Stock Exchange. Keith irish-whips Slush, hits the back body drop – but when Trevor steps in for the powerbomb, Slush uses the momentum to snap off a hurricanrana into a pinning combination.
Keith tries to save, but Ammo has his foot.
He gets the three!
(Tom) Are you kidding me? You have to be freakin’ kidding me!
(JB) Ladies and Gentlemen – the Goods have just defeated the Foundation Tag Team Champions!
Slush bails from the ring as Cunning climbs to his feet in disbelief. Owens begins kicking the bottom rope, and then arguing with Walt Mason – believing it wasn’t a three count.
Twitch, Slush and Blake Bouchard all jump into Ammo’s arms - the image as we cut away one of sheer jubilation.
(Tom) That was a fast count!
(JB) Like hell it was! I think we have new number one contenders – The Goods!
The screen fades to pitch black, and a guitar riff begins to be shred in the background. It’s the opening to “Assassin” by Muse which is also known as Annihilation’s official new theme song.
At the same time a countdown appears on screen.
0:15… 0:14… 0:13… 0:12…
The guitar riff is playing over this countdown.
0:03… 0:02… 0:01… 0:00…
When the countdown reaches zero, there’s a pause, and then the rest of the hard hitting instruments kick in.
The standard fast pace hard hitting action clips are shown as the song plays on, bulding up to a giant drum roll where the intro video ends and we flash to the Annihilation logo.
ON
Cue the huge boom of the indoor pyrotechnics display.
BOOM!
BOOM!!
BOOM!!!
After the pyro we cut backstage yet again .
Outrage
A chair flies in to the frame, followed shortly thereafter by a bottle of Jack Daniels, and then, one half of the Tag Team Title Belts. We pan over, to see Trevor Cunning beating the hell of a locker, putting a deeper dent in an already battered cabinet.
(Keith) Calm down.
(Trevor) Calm down? Calm down? You have got to be kidding me, Keith!
(Keith) It isn’t the end of the world, Trev.
(Trevor) Apparently you don’t understand the magnitude of this evening’s events, Keith! Trevor Cunning was pinned by some jackass named after the crap you kick off your tires in the winter!
In case you haven’t noticed – Keith – I don’t take indignities such as these lightly.
(Keith) One – stop talking in the third person – it makes you sound like an idiot.
Two – worse things have happened. Melissa’s been in the hospital for…
(Trevor) Melissa, Melissa, Melissa – that’s all I’ve heard for weeks now! We’ve done all we can for Melissa – when we hit Hush with a car and buried his freak ass six feet under.
Now Trevor… Now I wasn’t the only one who was out there getting beat this evening. And us Trust Fund Kids – we don’t get beat – we give out the beatings. So you’ve got two options, buddy: you can come with me, find the Goods – and show them what a mistake they’ve made.
Or you can leave the arena - catch a flight – and get back to your precious Melissa.
Trevor steps forward, puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder.
(Trevor) So are you with me – or have you gone soft?
Fade out.
Swinging Through...
We cut to the back of the Quicken Loans Arena as a dark blue Lexus SC430 pulls into the parking area. It comes to a stop as the driver’s side door opens and a slender pair of legs step out. As the camera gets a look at the rest of the individual, we see that it’s the one and only Vanessa Chamberlain. This gets a fairly mixed reaction from the crowd, a good portion of which are boos as they just don’t like her. Some because of what she’s done to the current Foundation Heavyweight Champion, others because well, their men are staring a little too hard at her. In any event, she gets out of the car in a black business suit and a pair of dark black Versace shades as she shuts the door behind her and heads to the door. Along the way she’s stopped by none other than John Mills with a microphone because hey, it’s his job.
(John) Vanessa, you played a rather prominent role in the main event at Redemption, can you explain to everyone why you were out there?
(Vanessa) Can I? Yes. Will I? No. Excuse me.
She attempts to walk on but he gets in his path again, making you wonder if he’s ever been a reporter in NYC.
(John) But your actions in that title match were only a part of what many feel was a rather tainted win for Aarons. I mean, if you’re trying to help him…
(Vanessa) Hold up, John. What’s tainted about that win? I was out there to get payback for that bastard putting his hands on me back in New Jersey. I wasn’t there for Aarons, I could’ve given two drops of piss less whether or not he held that title or lost it that night. I was simply there to get my revenge, plain and simple.
As she starts to walk off again, John chimes in with something else…
(John) But had it not been for a timely assist by Aarons, Stryker would’ve finished what he started in Jersey. Why is it that everytime Aarons turns around, you seem to be right there?
Vanessa chuckles and turns back towards John, a rather coy grin on her face as it’s right back to where they were during their one on one interview.
(Vanessa) Look Mills, it’s like this. I was out there to see Stryker pay for what he did to me. That’s it. End of story.
(John) Okay, but what about the revelation that it was Heatwave who set the fire in Boston and attempted to end your ex’s career?
There’s a brief pause by Vanessa when this is brought up. She remembers back to May of 2003 when she held Heatwave’s son in place while Aarons mounted Nicole Burbank up on the top rope and proceeded to drop her right on her skull snapping her neck like a twig. On top of his Lendo Stick which was wedged in between a steel folding chair. It’s here that she doesn’t get a chance to respond to the question, not because of the fact that she’s speechless on the matter…
But because there’s a black chair that cracks the small of her back which gets a rather loud shriek out of her. The chair strikes her again and then a few more times before she and the chair are left on the ground. John is furiously screaming for help as a set of metal soles are heard scampering away from the scene in a hurry. The camera is left on Vanessa lying on the ground motionless as we go backstage.
Not a Goods Night
A chair flies in to the frame – followed shortly thereafter by a large, African American gentleman with bleach blonde hair. Ammo stumbles backwards, hits the concrete wall and falls to his knees.
Take a wild guess what comes next.
Trevor Cunning steps on screen, brandishing a dented steel chair. He raises the chair high above his head – only for the chair to go flying off into the distance, kicked out of Trevor’s hands by the extended leg of one Kyle Cole.
Cole picks up the chair that flew his way and looks Cunning square in the eye. Cunning breaks Cole’s gaze – sees something over the Anti-Hero Superstar’s shoulder – and turns and runs off in to the distance.
Pan out – to reveal Slush, Twitch, and Kyle Cole’s arch nemesis, the man who defeated Cole at Oblivion to become Foundation Heavyweight Champion– Sean F’n Thomas.
Spaz gets right in Cole’s face.
(Spaz) Let me guess? This isn’t what it looks like?
(Kyle) Sean. I barely recognized you. You’ve aged horribly.
(Spaz) Can it. See, unlike you, Kyle – Slush and I play fair.
Just go.
Cole looks around, obviously conflicted. He slams the chair down next to Ammo, nearly hitting him in the skull, before storming off. Spaz watches him walk off in the distance as Twitch, Slush and Blake tend to Ammo.
We fade to black.
COMMERCIAL~!
The Next Step
The camera fades into the NAFW interview set, logo backdrop, video screen, and the portly visage of Mark Herriot staring into the camera. Unfortunately the warning didn’t come up, so at least a few children recoiled in horror at Herriot’s mug.
(Herriot) Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time. He was the #1 contender to the Foundation Heavyweight Championship and came away with a victory over Leonard Aarons via disqualification. Please welcome….
“THE BIG CITY HITMAN” MIKE STRYKER!!!
Stryker steps into the picture as the obligatory crowd pop permeates through the airwaves. He looks up, a man who just had the match of his life and came up inches away from victory, and takes a deep breath as Herriot starts us off.
(Mark) Mike, I gotta say, you wrestled one hell of a match at Redemption, and you got the win, but in the end, you didn’t come away with the gold. So the simple question is….what now?
(Stryker) See Mark, this is very cut and dry. For a week straight, people have been coming up to me on the street, in airports, at hotels, in bars, and they’ve all said the same thing. They all said how I did really well at Redemption. They all congratulated me on winning. They all said how I was the “uncrowned champion”. To be honest, as nice as all those sentiments are…
They don’t mean a God damn thing to me.
Stryker looks down at his hands…his empty hands.
(Stryker) You see, the bottom line is that, today, in his gym bag, Leonard Aarons carries 15 pounds of gold that say he’s the man. Today, these hands of mine are empty. Whether or not I beat the champ doesn’t matter because when we woke up today…he’s still the champ. Being uncrowned champion doesn’t draw a lot of water in my world.
(Mark) Well does this mean you’re going to try and get another shot at being champion? You probably have a right to it based on your victory.
(Stryker) You’d think I would. You’d think my next stop would be going right to Ray Buchanan’s office and demanding a rematch. You’d think that, but you’d be wrong. Mark, I’ve been around here long enough to know what good, or lack thereof, comes from relying on the suits for help. Those same suits who took away my tag titles because of some crackpot draw. The same suits who decided to close the doors around here, ending my intercontinental title reign. No Mark, I’m not going to piss and moan my way to another title shot. I gave Aarons grief for all the times he was handed chance after chance. I won’t do the same thing.
(Mark) So what…that’s it?
(Stryker) Did I say I was done Mark? Oh no, we’re not done with this by a long shot. No, what I’m going to do is show the world that I deserve another crack at that title. I’m going to show the world that I’m the best wrestler walking Gods green earth today. I already proved it to Lenny boy. He knows what I told him to be true. When he woke up the morning after Redemption, he should have gotten on his knees and prayed to whoever it is he prays to and thanked them for bailing him out. Lenny boy knows one truth as a result of what happened at Redemption.
He knows he can’t beat me.
Stryker’s staring right into the camera as he continues. Herriot knows to stand back and watch.
(Stryker) That’s right, I took Lenny boys best shot, the best fight he had in him, the proverbial kitchen sink. He proved he could beat the crap out of me. He proved he could hurt me as bad as anyone I’ve ever been in the ring with. He proved a whole lot of things. What he did NOT prove, however, is that he can beat me when it counts. He put me down with his best, chokeslammed me right down to the depths of Hell and back, and when it was over?
I was still standing. I came back at him, and I caught him. He was dead in the water, no chance of winning…
Then it happened. I got clipped by someone else. Next thing I know the bell rings and Lenny’s DQed. I win, but I lose. And when I get my bearings, who is it standing there?
Heatwave.
The name stirs up a chorus of boos from the capacity crowd.
(Stryker) Heatwave, bitching and moaning about some incident where he got a boo-boo 3 years ago. Well, guess what Heatwave. You made quite an impact at Redemption. You got everyone focused on you now. You got Lenny’s attention, and it seems to me like he’s looking forward to using you as a punching bag in the near future.
Too bad it won’t happen.
See Heatwave, you said something about how I was “collateral damage”. Once again, wrong place, wrong time, right? News flash son, I’m getting real tired of all this wrong place, wrong time crap. You can spin it any way that helps you to sleep at night, but the bottom line remains that you just tugged on Superman’s cape, and you should know that nobody does that kind of trash and gets away from it. You think I’m just gonna shrug and say “have at it, boys”? No no no son, it doesn’t work that way. Here’s what’s going to happen. You and I are gonna get in that ring tonight, and when I get my hands on you, I’m going to make sure that your 3 year old broken neck feels like a cheap massage with a happy ending. If you’re lucky, you’ll leave in an ambulance. If you’re not lucky, well, we won’t need an ambulance, they’ll just come scrape you off of my canvas with a mop. After I’m done, I’m gonna take that cumdumpster woman at your side, and make sure that she understands that she messed with the wrong bull. Tonight, you’ll have the shortest comeback in wrestling history, because I’m putting you back on the shelf.
Once I’m done with this, Lenny…be ready for round 2.
Stryker looks into the camera for a beat before walking off, leaving Mark Herriot staring with a look of concern on his face.
Setting Things Straight
As we fade back in from the commercial break, Commissioner Ray Buchanan is standing in the middle of the ring with a microphone in hand.
(JB) Welcome back to Annihilation ladies and gentlemen. We had a somewhat unexpected start to the show, but now the Commissioner is out here and I believe he intends to set a few things straight.
(Tom) I don't think its possible to make you go straight again JB.
(JB) Funny Bear.
(Tom) Not as funny as you being trapped in the closet.
(JB) Here we go...
Bickering and jokes from the announcers aside, in the ring it appears as if Buchanan is ready to address the crowd.
(Buchanan) Like usual, I will try to keep this brief. Following the end of Redemption, I felt there were several pressing matters that I need to set straight before things got too out of hand.
Buchanan paces around the ring a bit as the crowd patiently waits for him to say his piece.
(Buchanan) As you all might know, Chain Reaction is our next Pay Per View event, and with that event comes the annual Chain Reaction match.
Mandatory crowd pop.
(Buchanan) Quite obviously, this year, "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons will defend the Foundation Heavyweight Championship in the Chain Reaction match!
The crowd continues to pop for Aarons.
(Buchanan) Now, after the unsatisfying ending to the Foundation Heavyweight Championship match at Redemption, I've made the decision that Mike Stryker will get his rematch to have a fair shot at finishing his business with "The Reaper"... as part of the Chain Reaction match.
As you might have guessed, the crowd pops big for the mention of "The Big City Hitman."
(Buchanan) It is also clear that Heatwave wants a piece of "The Reaper" as well. However, I'm not one to hand out free passes and reward someone just because they ran in and disrupted a very important championship match. So Heatwave, if you want a chance to face "The Reaper" in the ring, you're going to have to earn a spot in the Chain Reaction match by winning a qualifying match at a later date, and that's final.
The crowd gives the mention of Heatwave a negative reaction.
(Buchanan) And finally, speaking of qualifying matches, we will see our first one here tonight as Spaz takes on Snake. I know there will be a multitude of you others in the back who are going to want a place in the Chain Reaction match, and I'm willing to hear you out. However, just like everyone else, you too will have to earn your way in to compete for the Foundation's most prestigious title.
Thank you all for your time and for allowing me to take care of some business. Good luck to everyone who will be competing for a spot in the Chain Reaction match! Enjoy the rest of Annihilation.
Commissioner Ray Buchanan hands his microphone back to Gillian Narcotica Ruiz through the ropes, gives a wave to the crowd, then exits down the steel steps and heads towards the back.
(JB) The Commissioner wastes no time in setting up our main event for Chain Reaction!
(Tom) And we already know its going to be off the hizzy with "The Reaper" and Mike Stryker guaranteed to be in the match.
(JB) Off the hizzy?
(Tom) Shut it Mannwagon.
What’s Mine is MINE!
(Crazy Boy) Tyrone walks away from the camera as the show fades to black.
Let 'Er Rip
Cut backstage to a locker room. I know, you see this kind of thing all the time, but that's because it's convenient. Where else would you expect a pair of wrestlers and their manager to go after their match? The nearest Micky D's for a nice Big Mac combo?
So, as noted, we're in a locker room, and since only one of the two teams that just had a match was accompanied by a manager, I guess you should already know that this room is occupied by Slush, Ammo and Twitch. In case you're wondering, the final member of The Goods, Spaz, has stayed out by the stage for his upcoming match with Snake.
Slush and Ammo are in the middle of the room, standing by the benches, while Twitch stands closer to the door.
(Slush) How about that, huh?
Ammo shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck after taking a chair shot from Trevor Cunning.
(Slush) I bet Sean's going to have something to say to that Cole guy.
(Twitch) And River Running was pretty pissed.
Slush looks at Twitch in confusion briefly, then understanding crosses his face.
(Slush) Who, Cunning?
(Twitch) That's what Twitch just said. River Running.
(Slush) Right. Yeah, he was pissed. I would be too if my partner wouldn't get the job done.
Ammo cuts a light glare at Slush and grunts. For those keeping track, this is Grunt & Glare Combo #4, which in this instance is roughly equivalent to "Your partner always gets the job done." Luckily, Slush has had many years of friendship with Ammo, and is one of the few who knows the big man's every grunt, glare and combination thereof. He pats Ammo on the shoulder.
(Slush) Damn right you do. But Cunning and Owens are clearly not on the same page. And to be honest, I'm not complaining.
(Twitch) Flush wants River to be pissed at Leaf?
Slush correctly assumes that "Leaf" refers to Keith Owens, and accepts the new Twitch-name™ in stride.
(Slush) I could care less about their little love spat... Except for the result. That's what matters to us, because backing Sean up isn't our only purpose here.
Ammo chimes in, finishing Slush's thought.
(Ammo) The Titles.
Slush grins.
(Slush) Exactly. As long as...
Before Slush can get into a commentary on the virtues of facing a disunified team, Twitch interrupts. He's already tuned out from whatever Slush was about to say.
(Twitch) Did Jumbo just let one rip?
Both Slush and Ammo look at Twitch with a combination of confusion and annoyance. Ammo gives Grunt #1, a multi-purpose "WTF?" kind of deal.
(Slush) Excuse me?
(Twitch) Shouldn't Jumbo be saying that? Twitch didn't just hear that rumbling. Twitch felt it! Smell's kind of like exhaust though. How the hell did Jumbo manage that?
(Slush) Were you dropped on your head as a kid?
Twitch ignores the question and goes on to what he feels is a more pressing concern.
(Twitch) Twitch is going to evacuate the premises, in case Jumbo decides to drop another bomb.
Twitch, moving fairly quickly, puts his left shoulder to the door, expecting it to swing open as doors are meant to do... But it doesn't, and Twitch stumbles back. Slush stifles a laugh.
(Slush) Walk much?
Ammo doesn't share his partner's amusement. He stalks over to the door, and pushes against it. No give. He puts his considerable weight into it. Nothing.
(Ammo) It's blocked.
(Slush) Son of a...
This is where we cut to the other side of the door. A forklift truck is parked there, blocking the door quite effectively indeed. Dustin Thomas jumps out of the forklift's seat. His brother Shane pats him on the back, and the pair go off on their merry way.
Perhaps The Goods should have gone for that Big Mac combo after all...
(JB) Those damn Thomas Brothers!
(Tom) You mean those brilliant Thomas Brothers!
(JB) I mean what I said, Bear.
(Tom) And what you said was wrong Mannwagon. This was an ingenious pre-emptive strike by The Empire, to keep The Goods out of their business.
(JB) What business? Their match with Harris and Clark later on? It has nothing to do with The Goods!
(Tom) And the Thomas Brothers just made certain that it won't!
(JB) I don't think The Goods had any intention of getting involved, Bear.
(Tom) Whatev.
A Familiar Face
The locker room is quiet until a familiar voice laughs maniacally and begins to speak as the camera shows the face of Carlos Smith... the Wild Boys former manager and Crazy Boy's older brother.
(Carlos)It's been a long time since I've seen this room... all thanks to my stupid little brother. You thought that I was just gone but I've been preparing for this... preparing for my revenge... which will be all the sweeter with you here to destroy him.
The camera cuts to show a masked figure in a straitjacket rocking in the corner and growling as he glares at Carlos.
(Carlos) Now now, let's not get angry with me...you have a match to win and I gave you your dream of making it here...so I say you owe me something you ungrateful punk.
All the camera shows is shadows on the wall and we hear sound of a hard slap. We fade out.
(JB) Alright folks, get ready for our first Chain Reaction Qualifier!
Not Ready to Make Nice
JB is quite right: Spaz versus Snake, Chain Reaction Qualifier is the next item up for bids on the Price is Right... But first things first.
Cue the music: "There and Back Again" by Daughtry. With it, flashing red lights and equally red spotlights panning the arena. On the word "Shine," a figure appears on the ramp. The man known best as Spaz. After tossing a few candies into the crowd near the ramp, he runs down to the ring and slides in. He gets right to business, pulling out a microphone and the music fades.
(Spaz) Before I beat Snake to qualify for Chain Reaction - Oh, and sorry about that Snakey, it's nothing personal... Just has to be done! - I have a couple of things to say.
Spaz paces the ring as he speaks.
(Spaz) Item A is Kyle Cole. Nice work with Cunning lately. Good on you. But given the history between us, I just have to tell you this: The next time I see you holding a chair anywhere near my partners, we'll be exchanging more than words. Really great to see you back, though!
Spaz stops, and looks right into the camera, grinning cheesily.
(Spaz) Now, to Item Two... Mike Lane.
Spaz's smile instantly fades back to a look of complete seriousness as he begins pacing the ring again.
(Spaz) I'll keep it simple, Mike: We're not done. I know it, you know it, the fans know it. Heck, JB knows it, and if there's one constant about JB Mann, it's that he knows his stuff!
(JB) But Spaz doesn't know that his partners have just been locked up by the Old School Empire!!
(Tom) Meh.
(Spaz) So once I'm done with Snake, my focus is entirely on you, Lane. Let me tell you: That Spaz problem of yours is just beginning!
Spaz heads over to the far corner and jumps up onto the turnbuckle, taking his favourite perch.
(Spaz) Now Snake, I guess we should do this thing. I hope you're ready for your Sugar Rush!
Spaz drops the mic out to a waiting stage hand and sits on the turnbuckle, awaiting his opponent's entrance.
If you're feelin' it when I drop this
"Rawkfist" by Thousand Foot Krutch hits the PA system before Snake comes out from the back to the delight of the crowd. He's got Wilson under his right arm. Snake starts to make his way down the ramp and when the first verse comes to an end, Snake sets Wilson on the ground and throws his hands up above his head allowing two large green fireworks to go off behind him. Snake then picks up Wilson and makes his way to the ring, high fiving some random fans before climbing into the ring.
Spaz vs. Snake w/ Wilson
Chain Reaction Qualifier Match
Spaz offers Snake a handshake, but the masked warrior chooses to slap Spaz’s hand away. Spaz shrugs, and heads to a neutral corner. He locks up with Snake, ducks behind him, and hits a double leg take down. Spaz floats over, snaps on a side headlock – and cinches in. Snake brings Spaz up, backs up to the ropes, and irish-whips him across the ring. He leapfrogs Spaz on the return, and attempts a hiptoss when Spaz makes his way back. Spaz holds on and snaps Snake over with an arm drag. Japanese Arm Drag follows, and Spaz slaps on an arm bar.
Snake brings himself back to a vertical base and pushes Spaz into the corner. When the ref asks for a break, Snake goes to the eyes. He buries two shoulders in Spaz’ midsection… leaps up onto the second rope, and bites Spaz’s forehead before taking him over with a Monkey Flip. Spaz lands on his feet, however, leaps to the top rope on the opposite corner, and prepares for a Sweetsault. Snake charges – Spaz flips over, and Sean runs forward, pushes Snake into the buckle, and rolls him up. That gets two.
Snake kicks out, drop toe holds Spaz when he returns, stops, leaps, and dropkicks Spaz in the nose. Oklahoma roll gets two. Spaz gets back to a vertical base, only for Snake to irish-whip him and hit the Whiplash pulling walk slam on the return. This too gets two.
Snake locks on the Anaconda Stretch – but Spaz hits the mat, rallying the crowd behind him. He fights out, buries elbows in Snake’s gut, and irish-whips Snake off to the side. Spaz ducks a wheel kick, then dropkicks Snake into the corner. Snake rolls out on the charge, ready to retaliate, but Spaz leaps onto the middle rope. He fakes a moonsault attempt, causing Snake to drop to the mat, only to hit the Spaz Out DDT when Snake gets back vertical.
Sweetsault gets two.
Spaz measures Snake as the crowd rallies – sets him up for the Sugar Rush, but Snake elbows out, kicks Spaz in the gut, then pulls him in for the Venom Sting. Snake goes to spin Spaz, but Sean Thomas blocks, floats out, and then runs up the turnbuckle and moonsaults over Snake. When Snake turns around, he walks right into the Sugar Rush – and the three count.
(JB) What a match!
(Tom) Snake must still be disoriented after the injury to Wilson at Redemption! That has to be the answer.
(JB) Volleyballs can get injured?
(Tom) More deflated, really.
!
Spaz is up, and reaches a hand out to Snake, his fallen opponent on this night. But before Snake can even consider the offer...
(JB) Look out!!
Shane Thomas is in the ring, having come in through the crowd. Shane clubs Spaz across the back from behind, knocking him down. He tosses Snake out of the ring, then focuses completely on Spaz, as his brother Dustin slides into the ring with a baseball bat.
(JB) This is a complete ambush! They lock up The Goods and attack Spaz while he's trying to be sportsmanlike!
(Tom) No good deed goes unpunished!
As Shane holds Spaz down, Dustin takes his swing, connecting firmly with Spaz's bad knee. Spaz cries out in pain, but it does nothing to stop The Empire's assault. Dustin hits Spaz again in the same spot. And again. He's about to swing for a fourth time, when a voice rings through the arena. The voice of Mike Lane.
(Lane) That's good, Dust.
Dustin looks mildly disappointed, but aborts his swing nonetheless. Shane pulls Spaz up. Keeping a solid grip, The Alpha turns the Sugar Junky toward the ramp where Mike Lane is standing.
(Lane) I'll keep it simple, Sean: We're done. I don't care what you, the fans or my old pal JB think on the subject. My Spaz problem was solved at Redemption, when I won my Wish. And this here tonight?
Lane grins widely. As a contrast to Spaz's cheesy sarcastic grin before the match, this is more of an evil sadistic one.
(Lane) Let's just call it the exclamation point.
Lane stands grinning for a moment, before he turns and heads backstage. Shane drops Spaz, who immediately clutches his leg at the point where Dustin's bat connected. The Thomas Brothers exit the ring and leave as well, as referees and medical staff rush to the scene.
(JB) Spaz has had problems with that knee in the past, Bear. It looks like this "exclamation point" was meant to put Spaz out of commission!
(Tom) That would certainly mean the end of Lane's Spaz problem, now wouldn't it?
(JB) I know Spaz, and I'd say that in the long run, this little stunt has only made Mike Lane's Spaz problem even worse!
COMMERCIAL~!
Big Brother Sighting
Tyrone "Crazy Boy" smith is now seen sitting down in his locker room, with his head buried in his hands. He sighs and shakes his head and looks up at the camera that is in front of him.
(Crazy Boy) As if I have don’t enough on my plate, worrying and preparing for my title match, and now my backstabbing, treacherous brother has to show his face in the NAFW once again. Last time I saw my brother around here, I beat him at Oblivion 2 years ago and fired him from managerial services of the Wild boys. I thought maybe he would be sniveling and whining, working as some fast food joint, so why is he here? And what is this surprise that he has for me?
Tyrone stands up and gets very close to the camera and a sly grin appears on his face.
(Crazy Boy) Carlos, I am not amused. Whatever you have in store for me here, I am sure I can overcome whatever you pitch at me. If it's a new wrestler, then go ahead and show him to me, so I can humiliate you once again. If its something else, just know, big brother, that I am ready for anything that you dish out to me. You are not going to ruin me like you did a couple of years ago. When I win that Atlantic Championship later tonight, I am going to find you and rub it in your face and show you that I can be and I am just fine without you....
So just bring what ever you have to the table, and I will prove to you that you are no match for me in wits, strength or ability, big brother.
Tyrone walks away from the camera and slams the door to the locker room as the show fades to black.
SHOOT Project Baggage
Cut.
We come up in one of the many indistinguishable hallways in the back of the Quicken Loans Arena, somewhere close to the entryway. Ken Harris is sitting on a table, dressed in his wrestling gear, waiting for Nicole Devereaux to finish taping up his left hand so he can put his gloves on. As the camera pans in, Nicole laughs, as if we’ve come in on the end of a conversation.
A second later, a man walks by, cloaked in awesome. Standing six four, two sixty – clad in ripped jeans and a denim jacket swathed with patriotic patches and Americana embroidery – Rex Michaels adjusts his confederate flag bandana and wipes his eyes. He turns back and looks, then smiles, big, innocent, and guileless.
(Rex) Kenny?
Harris turns his head and spots Michaels. He starts to roll his head, the way people do when they’re profoundly annoyed, but stops himself. He jumps off the table, whispering to Nicole and goes to meet Michaels halfway.
Michaels jumps forward and grabs Ken in a manly, non-gay hug which Ken does not return. Instead he looks angry and akward and uncomfortable. When Rex steps back, however, Ken is fine again.
(Rex) Well ain’t this the sh*t the pig tracked in the kitchen? Good Lord Kenny, how in the name of Delta Burke are ya?
(Harris) Good. I’m good.
(Rex) And aren’t you prettier than a seventy-three Fender Telecaster? Who is this fine filly Kenny? An’ what in the name of John Bonham, Gord rest his soul, is she doin’ wit y’all?
Harris looks toward Nicole and blinks a moment. He seems hesitant.
(Harris) Sorry, Nicole, Rex. Rex, Nicole.
Michaels shuffles round, checking pockets frantically as if searching for the holy grail itself. He finds a condom in his vest, tosses it behind him, and finally finds what he’s looking for – a rose, bent, squished, and falling apart – but an object resembling a flower none the less.
Nicole glances at Ken, stunned, confused, and on the verge of laughing
(Rex) Pleasure to meet you.
Rex turns back to Ken.
(Rex) So one of my baby’s mothers told me bout the bar thing, man. That’s gotta feel like a monster truck done run over y’all’s intestines or some sh(beep).
(Harris) Appreciate it. Kind of made my own luck.
(Rex) Nah, man – it ain’t nuthin’. I know y’all are gonna getter goin’ – after all you gotta good woman – an’ a tag team pardner from what Ah’ve heard?
Harris nods and looks over Rex’s shoulder, as if searching for a clock.
(Rex) Sh(beep) man, Ah still owe y’all a beer! How ‘bout we go grab some shine an’ get stupid?
Ken’s face starts to shift, but he controls it.
(Harris) Some other time. Listen I got a match, man.
(Rex) Nah, that’s cool. Ah’ve gotta head to the ring with Scotty anyway – but Ah ain’t gonna let y’all pussyfoot out on me – we gone drink like fish – fight some townies – get crazy man – y’all here me?
Rex takes Nicole’s hand, kisses it, then walks away.
Harris and Nicole watch him go, with expressions ranging from blank to bewildered. When Michaels is gone, Nicole reached down to Ken’s hand and presses the last piece of tape down.
(Nicole) What the hell was that?
Ken sighs, then turns back to the table for his gloves.
Cut.
STOMP STOMP CLAP!
STOMP STOMP CLAP!
(JB) Great… we go from a great match between two consummate professionals – to Scott Rocker.
(Tom) I don’t know about you, Mann Wagon, but I feel like drinking a forty and cutting the sleeves off my shirt.
Now the crowd gets into this and starts singing the words to Queen's "We Will Rock You." This finally draws out the one, and the only... SCOTT ROCKER! With Scott – well, not as always, but from now on is REX MICHAELS!
As he steps out onto stage the classic guitar riff of the song kicks in as the crowd still stomps and claps away. Scott Rocker is fitted in his black leather pants, cut off jean jacket with nothing on underneath it, and of course his American flag bandana around his long greasy hair. Michaels matches Rocker – denim for leather – Confederate flag bandana for American flag bandana. Scott Rocker and Rex Michaels pump their fists in the air a few times to a mixed reaction, as the crowd is probably having a better time singing We Will Rock You than actually cheering for them. They then proceeds to make his way down the ramp like a total badass.
(Tom) Look at the majesty and the glory!
(JB) I hate to admit it – but Rocker and Rex did look good as a team. We’ll have to see if this translates into singles action however.
The arena dims as Terrible by the Insane Clown Posse comes over the PA and neon green strobe lights start. Carlos Smith's face appears on the tron with red eyes. A figure comes out wearing a straitjacket followed by Carlos himself. The two make their way to the ring and Carlos releases the straitjacket immediately running to the outside of the ring as Psycho stands in the middle of the ring screaming.. only to charge in and level Rocker with a lariat.
Psycho w/ Carlos Smith vs. Scott Rocker
Psycho falls onto Rocker and begins choking him, spitting on Rocker as he pushes his hands around the badass’ throat.
Jason Martin makes Psycho get off at 5… only for Psycho to leap onto the second rope, high into the air, and double stomp Rocker’s chest. He steps off, begins kicking Rocker back into the corner and puts his foot on Rocker’s throat. Carlos leaps up to distract the ref, allowing Rex to hand Psycho over the top rope.
Rocker runs out and floors the stunned Psycho with a bulldog.
He covers for two.
(JB) What is Rex Michaels doing?
(Tom) Helping his tag team partner?
(JB) No – over by Gillian!
(Tom) I think Rex just made a friend, Mann-Wheel!
(JB) Gillian is filling in for us while Troy Gilmore is out on his honeymoon – and now Rex Michaels is hitting on her!
(Tom) Even better – I think Gillian’s into it.
Back in the ring, Rocker is doing a ten punch in the corner on Psycho, pausing at nine to play some air guitar. Psycho takes this opportunity to hit a spinebuster out of the corner. He stumbles away, trying to get his composure, then charges blindly at Rocker. Rocker scoops him up, looking for a death valley driver, but Psycho slips out and hits a second spinebuster.
(Tom) OH MY GOD!
(JB) That was one hell of a spinebuster…
(Tom) No, Mann-Wagon! Gillian is making out with Rex Michaels!
(JB) She’s married!
(Tom) Not anymore she isn’t!
Rex and Gillian look like two kids in the woods at bible camp, finally succumbing to their supposed satanic urges. Back inside – Rocker is burying rights in Psycho’s midsection, trying to get back to his feet. He bounces off the ropes, takes Psycho down with a lariat, then hits a Rocker Dropper for two. He gets up, manages to hit the Rocker Bottom – but then sees Rex and Gillian.
Rocker walks over, shouts at Rex – and gives him a thumbs up. Rex tosses him one back and goes back to slobbering all over Mrs. Narcotica-Ruiz.
While Jason Martin is checking on Psycho, Carlos hops up on the apron and drops Rocker’s head and neck across the top rope. Rocker bounces back into Psycho’s waiting arms… where Psycho hits a brainbuster. He heads to the top rope – hits a frog splash – and the three is academic from there.
(JB) Impressive debut for Psycho!
(Tom) What’s even more impressive is Rex and Gillian! Wowza!
When Rex hears Psycho’s music – he hits the ring and chases Psycho out. Gillian follows thereafter – where the pair check on Rocker. We cut to the back.
Sins of the Father…
(Mills) - The NAFW Faithful…have I got a blockbuster for you. Here…tonight…I have what I consider one of the most diabolical men in the NAFW, I have for you right now…HEATWAVE!
The crowd instant burst into boos which seems to rock the arena to its very core. Heatwave steps into the frame, looking dead into the eyes of John Mills before staring into the camera. His brown eyes seems to pierce through everyone’s soul before he breaks out into a random and rather unexpected smile on his face. Wearing a red NAFW-licensed shirt, it reads: IT’S ME, BITCHES! In big bold black letters on the front as Heatwave can hear the loud boos backstage and only chuckles softly and shakes his head. He signals Mills to get on with it with his hand as he continues to chuckle to himself.
(Mills) - Why are you laughing?
(Heatwave) - Come on, John…listen to them…they are booing me! How is that -not- funny?
(Mills) - Maybe because you set Leonard Aarons on fire…and you cost Mike Stryker his possible chance at victory for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship. Call it stating the obvious but I see how you find humor in all of this. You have two men coming after you right now and all you have a smile on your face.
Heatwave simply shrugs his shoulders slightly with a nonchalant smirk on his face.
(Heatwave) - What am I suppose to be apologetic for my actions? Well guess what Mills…I’m no where near sorry for what I did. The only thing I possibly regret is the fact that I didn’t finish the job when given the chance…but that’s a mistake that I won’t make twice, you can’t believe that.
(Mills) - Well let’s start with the obvious…what’s the deal between you and Leonard Aarons? And did you attack Leonard Aarons earlier tonight?!
Heatwave looks over at John with a raised brow as he shakes his head.
(Heatwave) - Are you mental? Where the hell have you been for the past few days underneath a rock? Leonard Aarons is the -bane- of my existence…and to be honest, I’m reincarnate of all his sins of the past…and I’m here to collect. But did I beat him down earlier?
Heatwave pauses and chuckles softly.
(Heatwave) - If I said no, what would it matter you wouldn’t believe me anywhere…so you can think what you want. Like I said earlier…I’m here to wash away some sins.
(Mills) - Sins? What the hell are you talking about?
(Heatwave) - Mills…for once shut the hell up and just open your ears. It’s been three years…three years of watching my wife sit at home in a halo thanks to the man you call Champion…it’s been three years of my career down the drain because of the man you call Champion…it’s been three years of trying to get my son to sleep at night because of the man you call Champion. I’ve lost everything because of him…and do I blame him…oh yeah…I do. And for that…I plan on asking sure he understands my pain and setting him on fire was only the beginning, I will make sure that I make him understand that I’m a man of my word. A few months ago…he told me that I should let the past be the past and move on…so with that said, I’m going to make sure that he realizes that the past isn’t as easy to let go as he thinks, no matter who you think you’ve become. You call The Reaper…but to me…he’s just a little bitch.
(Mills) - You think that Leonard Aarons is honestly going to simply roll over for you? Let’s be real here, he knows what you’re capable of…hell we’ve all seen it but yet do you think that for a second that he’s just going to come crashing to his knees and just apologize for all of this?
(Heatwave) - Oh! Actually, I hope that he doesn’t…I hope that he actually makes this hard for me. I want to resist and all the crap because I want to break him down. I want to strip him of everything he holds dear and show you all what kind of man he really is. Just another insecure-petty-jealous-driven man who can’t hack it without stepping on everyone else around him.
(Mills) - It’s hard to erase the history that you two have and the pure hatred that the two of you have for one another, that’s for sure. But yet I’m failing to see how Mike Stryker got involved in all of this.
(Heatwave) - Stryker was in the wrong place at the wrong time, simple as that. This isn’t about the Foundation Title…to be honest, that’s the last thing on my mind. I want Aarons, point blank. I don’t give two craps about Stryker but if he wants to beef with me, then I have no problems at all with putting his ass through the canvas. I don’t care of Stryker…never have and never will. But this is bigger than him and if he can’t get that through his thick skull, then I’ll have to beat it into him.
(Mills) - This is far from over isn’t it?
(Heatwave) - John, you have no idea. I promise you that once it’s all said and done… there will be a lot of blood spilt on the floor and the body count is going to be astronomical.
(Mills) - Well about Commissioner Buchannan comments about Chain Reaction?
Heatwave just shook his head and smiled once again.
(Heatwave) - I don’t give a crap about Bucky and what he has to say…he’s just talking to hear himself talk again. If I have to jump through the burning hoop to get my shot at Aarons…then so beat it. That’s what I’ll do but believe you me, once it’s all said and done…I’ll get my shot at Aarons and then some. It’s Me, Bitches…
Heatwave smirks and walks past John Mills, shoving him slightly out of the way. John watches Heatwave leave and huffs.
Hush and Go Seek
The cameras go backstage, as a pair of well-dressed shoes furiously make their way through the main corridor. As the cameras pan up and out, the fans in attendance begin to jeer the familiar blood-red garb of Aleister Essex, the man responsible for the destructive entity known as Hush.
However, as evident by the lack of camera adjustment to fit the scene into your television set, Essex is without his charge, and, among other things, very disheveled-looking given that his jacket has clearly been worn recently, his burgundy fedora is missing, exposing his matted dirt-blond hair to the world, and his tie is hardly becoming of a man of Essex's stature.
Given these unusual components one would usually deduce that Essex was, perhaps, lost, or looking for a good shower, but as his pace quickens, it becomes quite clear that Essex was rushing to do business with someone, or something, in this building tonight.
As Essex happens upon General Manager Ray Buchanan's door, it becomes all the more clear as to whom he has dealings with this evening.
Essex shoves the door open with the force of an ill-tempered wombat, at least relative to Hush's strength, and barely allows our cameras to pursue. But even before the completely surprised GM has the time to greet his unexpected guest, Essex cries out loudly;
YOU!! This is all YOUR fault!!!
What the hell are you talking about Essex? Get out of my-...
NO! There is bloody well no way in hell that I am stepping out of this office before I get an explanation as to why not one, not TWO, but THREE separate excavation teams I paid for out of my OWN pockets were unable to find my beast!!
Lauded Essex, having raised a finger at Buchanan's chest, both men standing up, standing tall, and standing on what could very well be the precipice of fate for either man.
(Essex) This happened under YOUR watch, Buchanan, and I expect to see a full-on investigation as to what happened to my monster after Redemption... OR. ELSE.
Essex jabbed his index finger twice into Buchanan's left chest in concurrence with those last words, but rather than react as wildly as Essex was, Buchanan stared into the tired, psychotic eyes of Aleister Essex, sighed deeply, and then plopped back on down into his chair.
(Buchanan) There will be no investigation until after Chain Reaction, Essex. You know just as well as I do that I owe you no favors, and that my hands are tied until then. If Hush managed to leave on his own power-...
(Essex) Which I would have known of.
(Buchanan) Then he is free to rejoin the roster, however, if he does not return to action before or during Chain Reaction, then I will feel obligated to launch and investigation-...
At this point the days, the hours and the minutes that Aleister Essex had poured into finding Hush (beginning the minute he regained consciousness at Redemption) completely emptied itself out into his words, and the man once called a "sly devil" came all unglued.
(Essex) I'VE EXHAUSTED ALL AVENUES, EVERY RESOURCE, I'VE TRIED EVERYTHING I KNOW, I-... THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, BUCHANAN, MY MONSTER WAS BECOMING TOO BIG A PROBLEM... yesss... That's it... Too big... Chain Reaction's too small eh?... Too big... TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE AND YOU'RE GLAD THAT HE'S GONE, HUH!? AREN'T YOU!!>!>!?!?...
When I find him... I'll put the fear of HUSH in you... mark my words...
Essex slammed the door behind him with an authoritative thud as Ray Buchanan, keeping his composure, shuffled together some files and went back to his daily business...
(JB) Up next – we’ve got a match that could go a long way into determining who will be next to take on the Trust Fund Kids – provided their still Tag Team Champions after they’re done with the Goods!
(Tom) How dare you, Mann-Wheel!
(JB) Harris and Clark were impressive against the Toiletries at Redemption.
(Tom) Who isn’t impressive against the Toiletries?
(JB) But the O.S.E. have been on a roll for a long time.
(Tom) And I don’t see that stopping any time soon!
The lights stay on as Tom Waits's "Big in Japan kicks in on the PA system. The crowd listens a moment to the music, which strangely only comes from the speakers to their right. Then the guitar kicks in, and we get down to business.
Ken Harris comes out frist, emerging from the right side of the entryway dressed in full ring gear. He stares down to the ring, purposeful, calculating until he comes to the left side of the entryway, where he stops. There his eyes, not to anything specific, but almost toward himself, as if he's thinking, concentrating.
When the lyrics start Troy appears. He makes his entrance on a slide, Risky Business style, and turns around with a short, Chris Jericho style kick. This kick nearly hits Ken, but no one pays attention to that. The pair stands a moment, then Nicole Devereaux, in black leather pants and one of them sleeveless red tank tops, appears. With all present, the trio starts toward the ring, Ken drawn inward, concentrating--Troy dancing, and Nicole trying to rally the crowd, who respond with a small, smattering of approval.
When they reach the ring, Ken slides in, Troy and Nicole take the stairs.
(Tom) Alright – I’ll give credit where credit is due!
(JB) It’s about time!
(Tom) Nicole. Is. Hot.
(JB) Of course.
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.
The Old School Empire (Dustin and Shane Thomas) vs. Ken Harris & Troy Clark
(JB) And it’s on like the former Soviet republic of Azerbaijan!
(Tom) On like Spaghetti with Parmesan!
(JB) On like the traditional custard dessert called Flan!
The four men start brawling – Harris pairing off with Dustin while Troy and the Alpha tumble to the outside. Harris pulls Dustin back into the corner, and begins chopping the younger Thomas brother – while outside the ring, Shane slams Troy’s skull into the steel ring steps, and then rolls in the ring. He charges at Harris – who side steps – causing Shane to squash Dustin! Harris back suplexes Shane, who rolls out of the ring to recover, while Dustin stumbles out. Atomic Drop leaves Dustin stunned – allowing Troy to roll back into the ring and charge in with a chop block. Harris connects with a lariat at the same time, turning Dustin inside out. Harris covers, but Shane pulls referee Richie Howards out of the ring – breaking up the count. He slides in, ready to face off with Harris and Clark – throwing a thick right at Troy and burying a boot in Harris’ midsection. Richie Howards steps back in the ring and pushes Shane out into his corner.
Harris steps to the outside and allows Clark to take over on Dustin. Troy thrusts his pelvis in Dustin’s face, only for Dustin to bury a right in his midsection. Clark responds with a boot to the gut, and a standing reverse neckbreaker. Before he drops Dustin down – Troy rotates his hips, Rick Rude style.
This also gets two.
Irish whip attempt is reversed, but Clark hits a hiptoss on the return. GoDaddy dot com elbow drop misses, and Dustin rolls over and tags in Shane. Shane charges in – hitting a huge lariat and a running big boot when Clark gets back to a vertical position. Irish-Whip leads to a powerslam for two. A spinebuster also gets two. Quick tag to Dustin.
Shane hits an atomic drop and holds Troy on his knee. Dustin bounds off with a leg lariat – completing the modern version of the Hart Attack. This gets two.
For two minutes – Dustin and Shane drop knees and elbows on Troy – going after Ken Harris to distract the ref, only to choke Troy and double team him on each occasion.
Finally, after Dustin misses the Fireball 450 – Clark tags in Harris. He takes Shane down with a back elbow, before kicking Dustin in the jaw. Dustin falls back into the corner. Shane walks into a spinebuster – Dustin falls out and headbutts Shane in the crotch. Quick tag Clark. Clark steps in, lifts Dustin’s legs, and kicks him right in the “gut.”
Harris pulls Dustin in, lifts him into an electric chair position, and tells Troy to go to the top rope. Before they can complete the Doomsday Device however, Shane falls on the top rope, crotching Troy.
Dustin completes a Victory Roll – but Ken kicks out at two.
Dustin climbs to the top as Shane lifts Ken into a gorilla press, and a flying neckbreaker completes the Alpha Class. Richie Howards now realizes who the legal men are – and refuses to count. While Shane argues with Howards, Dustin goes after Troy Clark.
He climbs the top, looking for a superplex, only for Clark to push him off. Clark leaps off the top rope with a sunset flip, rolling up Dustin.
Ken Harris meanwhile, has recovered enough to tackle Shane to the outside. Dustin reverses the sunset flip at two, holding onto Troy’s tights. At two, a red towel comes flying in the ring, hitting Dustin square in the face. Troy takes this opportunity to re-reverse the sunset flip, this time getting three!
(Tom) WHERE THE HELL DID THAT… THAT THING COME FROM?
(JB) That was Blake Bouchard!
Indeed. To the replay!
Twitch, now free from the locker room, popped in from the crowd, threw the towel in the ring, hitting Dustin in the face. Twitch now slides in, scoops up Blake, and runs up the ramp, full speed!
(Tom) I want to know – how the hell did Twitch get out?
(JB) I don’t think it matters, Bear!
(Tom) I can’t believe this! First the Trust Fund Kids lose, now the Old School Empire!
(JB) The Tag Division is in a state of flux, Bear! Who knows what’ll happen next?
Introducing GNR
Scott Rocker rips his bandana off and tosses it at the wall – only for it to float gently to the ground. A failure at even this display of aggression, Rocker sits down on the locker room bench and begins pouting.
Enter Rex F’n Michaels.
(Rex) Scotty – Ah’m in love. Ah have met the girl of my dreams an’ Ah want y’all to meet… Well Golly, Scott – who done took a dump in your Colonel’s Original Recipe?
(Scott Rocker) I lost, Rex! To some dude in a straight jacket! You were supposed to be there for me!
(Rex) Listen, Scotty – Ah done feel damn awful ‘bout what happened out there – Ah was ready to help y’all – and then, suddenly – Ah saw this vision of loveliness standing by the ring and then Ah was all riled up and sh(beep). My Confederate flag was flying full staff – if you know what Ah mean!
(Scott Rocker) What about bros before hos?
(Rex) Damn, man – y’all had to pull that on me. Y’all forgot about the corollary to “bros before hos!” Y’all done gimme the thumbs up!
(Scott Rocker) I do believe that hooking up with a married chick in front of an entire stadium of people is pretty bad ass!
(Rex) Scotty – this is the love of mah life! Here initials even match mah favorite band!
(Rex and Scott Rocker) GunsandRoses!!!!!!
Entering the locker room is a woman wearing tight leather pants, teased out do and a red and black tanktop with the words “Rock and Rex My World” emblazoned on it in rhinestones.
She looks like a stripper.
(Rex) This is Gillian Narcotica Ruiz – Ah’re new valet!
Rocker kisses her hand.
(Scott Rocker) Enchantee!
She giggles, then puts her leg around Rex.
(Rex)Now, Ah promise Ah won’t get my hump on durin’ y’all’s matches anymore. So… we cool?
(Scott Rocker) Nah. We ain’t cool!
Rex looks worried until Rocker smiles.
(Scott Rocker)WE’RE BAD ASS!
As the three jump around the locker room like children – we fade out.
Das Beatdown!
The camera shakes with movement ala‘ COPS as it races down the hallways of the Quicken Loans Arena. The camera comes to a complete stop as Heatwave steps out of a unmarked locker room with sweat running down the sides of his face. He looks over at the camera with a smirk and chuckles for a moment before side stepping the camera. The camera turns to catch Heatwave grabbing a black steel chair and marches right back into the room from once he came.
Glass shatters.
Wood breaks.
The sickening crunch of metal hitting something solid comes from the unmarked locker room as the camera slowly creeps into the locker room. It pans over the room to see nothing but total destruction all around. A long wooden table is literally reduced to splinters, several black chairs are littered about the room, each with a large indentation in the front, several lockers are dented or their doors are literally hanging on the hinges. The camera continues to brave the elements and forge ahead, as trash litters the locker room floor as a over turned trashcan leans against the far wall.
(Heatwave Off-Screen) - “What‘s wrong? Not to talkative now, huh? Not really believing that all of this is happening to you, huh? Well, believe it! Everything is starting to make some sense huh?
The camera turns into the attached bathroom to find one of the mirrors has been shattered creating a spider web effect on the reflective glass as freshly spilled blood drips from the glass. Splotches of blood on the floor are followed towards the rear stall as a set of un responsive feet hang out from the stall.
(Heatwave OSV) - I thought you would‘ve put up a better fight. But maybe everyone is right about you…maybe you‘re nothing more but a punk-ass since you‘ve won that title. This isn‘t over because this isn‘t the man I‘ve come for…he would actually make it worth the chase. But you…you‘re just nothing but another poser. And the next time you see your bitch…tell her I‘m coming for her too.
Heatwave steps out of the stall, his taped fists are bloodied as his t-shirt is torn and bloodied as well, but yet it‘s not his blood at all. With a smile, he looks at the camera and chuckles again, shaking his head slowly before reaching up and placing his hand over the lens, ending the transmission.
COMMERCIAL~!
The EGO Has Spoken!
Rick Priestly is standing by in the ring looking as uptight and nervous as he ever has, wearing a grey suit with a black and red NAFW tie. He has a thing layer of sweat forming on his forehead as the camera cuts to him and he takes his cue to begin speaking.
(Rick Priestly) Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to at this time to introduce to you, a man who certainly made his mark on the NAFW at Redemption, and first EVER NAFW Legend...
There is a decent sized pop and many in the crowd stand up and begin looking towards the entrance...
(Priestly)...A former Foundation champion... "The Anti-Hero Superstar" KYLE COLE!!!
GENTLEMEN, THE EGO HAS LANDED!
"Bullet with a Name" by Nonpoint blares through the PA and the crowd really comes to life. As the lyrics kick in, the Anti-Hero Superstar steps through the curtain much to the delight of many in the crowd.
He stands, looking out into the crowd for a long moment, the hot stage lights gleaming off of his long, dark hair. He's wearing a grey sports coat with matching pants tonight along with a black shirt underneath.
(JB) To say this man left an impact on Redemption would be just about accurate, I'd say!
(Tom) You would say that...
As Cole stands just within the entranceway, he looks up and puts his arms straight out to the sides as a line of fireworks fires off just behind him, tracing the aisle all the way down to the ring, and then right back to him. After this short display, the Anti-hero Superstar begins the short trek towards the ring, slapping hands with a few fans along the way.
(JB) I think we may be about to find out what Kyle Cole's intentions are from here on in as far as the NAFW is concerned...
(Tom) Pretty much, time to retire permanently...
(JB) I strongly doubt that.
Cole has finally reached the ring, and he makes his way up the stairs, steps through the ropes and saunters over to the far turnbuckle. Once there, he jumps up and looks out into the crowd a little more as flashbulbs continue popping left and right. He slaps his chest a couple of times and holds his arm up in the air before jumping down and being handed a microphone by Rick Priestly who quickly exits the ring.
(Kyle Cole) Well, well, well...
A slight smirk comes across the face of the Anti-Hero Superstar as the crowd pops again
(Cole) It's true what they say, I guess... The more things change, the more they stay the same. You see, at Redemption, I took it upon myself to try something that I've never done before... Officiate a match. While my actions against VYC may not be very popular with some...
Mixed reaction to Cole's mention of his attack on VYC as well as Cunning
(Cole) I've never been a man who does what's popular... You see, I've always been the one to march to the beat of my own drum, and it's not something I plan on changing anytime soon... VYC, you provoked me just the same as Trevor Cunning did, and as far as I'm concerned, you both paid the price that was due!
Again, a mixed reaction, although more cheers than boos this time. Cole just smiles and continues on.
(Cole) Two new faces to me... And yet the same result as all the others. See, as some of you may or may not remember... Everyone falls the the Dreamweaver eventually. It's just a matter of time. I don't care if you're the number one guy in this company or the greenest rookie on the block... I don't care if you're a Foundation champion, former Foundation champion, or the janitor who's busy mopping up after Tom Kalhoun when he gets too drunk and pisses himself...
(Tom) HEY!!!
(JB) MUAHAHAHA!
(Cole) The bottom side of my foot is equal opportunity, and I think it's time that the NAFW rediscovered EXACTLY what I mean!
Another very large pop. Cole nods his head confidently as he looks around the crowd once again. The look on his face says that he means business from this moment forward.
(Cole) For those of you who don't remember... A couple of years ago I won the Foundation championship in a very grueling match...
There is a small murmur in the crowd now...
(Cole) But it wasn't just any match. It is one of the NAFW's specialty matches. It's a match that separates those who can from those who can not! And see, it's funny because... It just so happens that that very match is taking place next month...
The Anti-Hero Superstar scratches his head a little bit as he toys with the crowd for a moment.
(Cole) This match about which I speak just so happens to be called... Chain Reaction.
(JB) I think I see where this one is going
Another pop from the crowd
(Cole) And so, at this time, I'm going to make my intentions very clear... And I intend to put my name in as an entrant for this year's Chain Reaction match!
(JB) HOLY COW!
(Kalhoun) Not a chance!
(Cole) I figure that I've been to the top of the proverbial mountain before at Chain Reaction... Let's see if I can do it again. So this is the first and final warning to all of those who think they have what it takes to win this thing... The Anti-Hero Superstar is aiming for what is rightfully his, so you all had better take a step back, look within yourself... And think again.
Cole drops the mic and makes his way backstage as "Bullet with a Name" kicks back in.
(JB) You better believe it, folks! If the Anti-Hero Superstar is shooting to win Chain Reaction for a second time, it's gonna take one helluva man to stop him!
(Tom) So, your mom might be able to do it then?
(JB) One of these days, I'm going to choke you.
Egos: At the Craft Service Table
Cut.
We come up in the back again, this time in front of the craft services table. Troy Clark, still moving gingerly after his match with the Old School Empire, is standing over the table with bread in his hand. What he is doing is fixing a sandwich: pastrami and provolone on what is most likely sourdough bread. He’s dressed in street clothes, which for him is a pair of black jeans and a wild, almost metallic looking silver Hawaiian shirt.
Troy is about to press his bread together when a sound comes from over his shoulder.
(Sound) Ahem!
Troy finishes making his sandwich, puts it on a plate, then starts examining the table again.
(Sound) Ah-hem!!
The sound, this time, is super annoyed so Troy looks to his left and sees Scott Rocker. Rocker has his hands on his hips and is tapping his toe, the universal gesture for impatience.
Troy sets the plate down and turns, a small, “This should be good” smirk on his face.
(Scott Rocker) I ain’t got all day, ya half wit!
(Troy) Really? I got nothing but time.
(Scott Rocker Don’t you know who I am?
Troy scoffs a bit. He turns his head to the camera, grins, then look Rocker dead in the face.
(Troy) The janitor?
Rocker jumps back as if he were slapped.
(Scott Rocker) You been living in a cave, man?!
Troy grins at the camera again then drops his shoulders and looks at the floor. What this is is him playing sad and ashamed. Badly. And Rocker doesn’t notice.
(Troy) Yes.
(Scott Rocker) Oh.
Rocker steps forward and pats Troy’s shoulder reassuringly. Troy’s smile gets bigger.
(Scott Rocker) That’s all right. I’ll tell ya.
Rocker spreads his feet, then air guitars a single note.
(Scott Rocker) I am the Maharaja of Mayhem… the Rajah of Rock and Roll and the Bastion of BAD ASS! SCOTT F’N ROCKER!
Troy straightens his posture, puffs his chest out a little, and looks every bit the cocky mo-fo he is. As he speaks he steps forward, poking Rocker in the chest.
(Troy) Well I’m Troy Clark. I’m the guy who’s flat out, no bullsh(beep), sexier. Than. You.
Rocker is aghast. Troy shoves him with one hand, making him stumble.
(Troy) So get outta my ear, ya midget.
Troy turns back to the craft services table, grabs some celery and puts it on his plate. Rocker, aghast and offended, charges. Troy steps into his path, puts a foots out and trips Rocker up. As Rocker flass, troy gives him a two-handed push on the back, making a kind of throw.
This is a move he picked up from Ken. Just sayin’.
Rocker does a face plant and turns over. He is, in a word, miffed.
(Scott Rocker) This ain’t over, punk. You do not try to out bad ass a bad ass!
Rocker scrambles off. Troy turns back to his plate.
(Troy) You better believe it.
Troy picks up his plate and bites into his sandwich.
(Troy) Mouth full Moonlighters.
Commercial.
Storm Johnson vs. Krystian
(JB) Ladies and gentlemen – we’re back and our next match is already in progress!
(Tom) Man – everyone’s anxious tonight – exploding early. Kind of like your sex life, Mann-Wheel!
We cut back from commercial with Krystian and Storm Johnson already in the ring. They do a test of strength in the middle of the ring, with Johnson getting the upper hand. Johnson hits a few quick chops across the chest of Krystian and then hits a quick Sunset Flip, but Krystian makes an extremely quick kick out. Krystian takes a couple of steps back and bounces off the ropes, flying at Storm Johnson. Johnson ducks but Krystian, like lightning, turns around and hits a neckbreaker.
Krystian with the cover.
1.
2.
Kickout by Johnson.
Krystian picks up Johnson and hits a short armed clothesline and Johnson is on the mat again. Krystian goes to the turnbuckle and climbs the top rope and tries a moonsault, but Johnson moves out of the way. Johnson staggers to his feet and picks up the woozy Krystian and connects with a Adominal Stretch. Krystian cries out in pain, but refuses to tap out. Johnson applies the hold a little tighter, trying to suck the air out of Krystian, but he still refuses to tap out. Frustrated, Johnson breaks up the hold and picks up Krystian.
He picks up Krystian and tries for his finisher, the Natures Fury Tornado DDT, but Krystian counters out of it with a DDT of his own. Krystian with the cover.
1.
2.
Th-Kickout by Johnson!
Krystian looks at the referee, who is only holding up two fingers. Krystian looks back at Johnson, who picks up Krystian and hits a HUGE powerbomb on him. Krystian is down for the count, but Johnson doesn't go for the cover. Instead, he climbs the rope and tries for a Top Rope Elbow Drop, but Krystian moves out of the way in the kick of time. Johnson gets up and staggers around and Krystian hits a HUGE clothesline on Storm. Storm is down on the mat as Krystian quickly climbs the ropes and does the LEAP OF FAITH and connects!!!
Krystian with the cover!!
1.
2.
THREE!!!
The bell rings and Krystian is declared the winner. The referee comes over and holds Krystians hand up, and declares him the winner.
(JB) Krystian the winner!
(Tom) I have nothing to contribute!
Goodbye Earl
Cut backstage. We're at the doorway leading to the parking lot. Mike Lane, flanked by Shane and Dustin Thomas, have packed up their gear and are on their way.
They pass by a low-level NAFW staffer who, for no other reason than to give this segment a title which is also that of a Dixie Chicks song, is named Earl. Earl gives a little nod as he passes which Lane and Shane ignore completely. But Dustin shows a moment of humanity.
(Dustin) Bye.
Earl, who is used to being ignored, doesn't realize that someone may have been talking to him, and keeps going on his way to whatever duty Ray Buchanan has assigned him. When he does figure out that the goodbye was directed at him, he turns to see the door to the parking lot slamming shut. He shrugs, and goes back to work.
(Tom) The Empire has left the building!
(JB) Yes, that is what we just saw, Bear.
(Tom) I just wanted to make sure everyone knew.
(JB) You just wanted to say a cheesy line.
(Tom) Way to ruin my moment.
(JB) Trust me Bear, you did all the ruining on your own.
Stranger Than Fiction
The camera starts with a standard shot of a window. Visible outside the window is a pale white moon, ghostly in nature. No clouds to deface the surface; just the stark moon. The light that filters through the window is soft and throws a small path of visibility across the room. Inside the glow of the moonlight, there sits a doll atop a dresser and, close to them, the corner of a baby's crib can also be seen.
(???) Night comes too soon for some.
Electronically altered. We can't discern from where or whom the disturbing voice originates but the delivery is unsteady and pained.
(???) Claims the innocent too soon. Not their time.
The camera silently eases into a left turn, advancing and tilting toward the floor. The pale moonlight gives all objects in the room an eerie appearance. Teddy bear, train, blanket.
(???) Star light ... star bright ...
The camera is suddenly capturing a shot of a solid black boot.
(???) Hateful night.
The camera pans upward to capture an image of a man, dressed in a shiny, full-body wrestling suit. He is crouching beside the crib and holding onto one of the rails with his left hand. He doesn't move; he just continues crouching and talking in the same wavering fashion.
(???) I can never make amends.
The camera continues upward to capture a look at face of the mystery man. All it gets is a sudden image of a shiny mask with on odd pattern around each eyehole as the man lunges toward the camera, knocking it over. The figure stomps quickly out the door.
(???) All that's left now ... is ... sorrow.
The scene fades out to darkness and the world seems a little less unsettling.
COMMERCIAL~!
(JB) And we’re back with a big time, title rematch!
(Tom) Wilson!
(JB) No, Bear – no volleyballs tonight.
(Tom) Aww…
(JB) The newly crowned Atlantic Champion, Andy D – is off to prove that he is a worthy, fighting champion!
(Tom) So he’s doing it by taking on Crazy Boy – the schmuck who lost to the volleyball in the first place?
(JB) Tyrone Smith has won numerous titles, Bear! He’s been Intercontinental Champion, Atlantic Champion, X-Treme Champion…
(Tom) And he lost. To a volleyball!
"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.
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.
Crazy Boy vs. Andy D (AC) Atlantic Championship
Lock up to begin, with Andy D dropping to his knees in an attempt to leverage an advantage. He gets back up – backs CB into the corner, and breaks cleanly. CB charges out, eating an arm drag. A second arm drag hits, but a third is blocked and turned into a hip toss. CB and Andy D both kip up, hip toss attempt by CB is cartwheeled out of – leaving Andy D to hit the ropes and come back with a lariat attempt. CB ducks, hits a backslide for two.
Andy kicks out, flips CB over, and then covers him for two. CB rolls and bridges for two, before Andy D turns it over for two. Both men roll away, kip up and attempt a drop kick, both whiff, and then roll to their knees. The crowd applauds in response. CB charges in with a boot to the gut, lifts Andy up for a suplex attempt, but Andy falls out behind CB. He pushes CB to the ropes, rolls him up for two. CB pushes Andy D off into the turnbuckle and Andy hits chest first. CB rolls him up for two. Andy kicks out, walks to a CB hurricanrana, and then scrambles to his feet. CB jumps up on Andy’s shoulders, and hits a reverse hurricanrana, spiking Andy’s head on the canvas, this also gets two.
With Andy D. dazed, CB pulls him in for the Crazy Slam. He lifts Andy up, holds him, but Andy again slips out… but this time he grabs CB’s head on the way down, dropping him with a Sleeping Neakbreaker Andy covers for a 2 count. CB manages to kick out, but before he can get to his feet Andy scrambles and hits a Dragon’s Bite!
This, obviously, gets three!
(JB) Another big win for Andy D. and a tough loss for the Crazy One!
(Tom) They all seem to be tough losses for him lately!
(JB) What are you saying, Bear?
(Tom) Maybe the whole Crazy thing isn’t working for him, Mann-Wheel! Maybe insanity, paranoia, or even sheer jubilation might work better.
(JB) You’re just naming emotions now.
(Tom) So?
Answering the Call
Backstage, in the locker room of one Mike Stryker, as he prepares for his match with Heatwave later on tonight. He sits in his dressing room on a folding chair, in his gear, rolling a piece of athletic tape around his fingers. The slight ripping sound of tape coming apart breaks the silence up as he stares down, getting himself in that mental place that every wrestler gets to before he goes to the ring.
It’s the mental state that allows them to be violent and remorseless, to do things that in a moral society people would find reprehensible.
To bludgeon people until they lose consciousness
To twist their limbs in ways that rip and tear at their muscles and tendons.
To make another man scream for mercy.
As Stryker pictures these wonderful things, he’s interrupted by a piercing ring echoing through the room. On the bench beside him, his cell phone comes to life, ringing and buzzing it’s way to the end of the bench. Stryker looks down, almost annoyed at the interruption. He picks up the phone and sighs.
“Voicemail”.
Stryker flips open the phone and dials out to get his message. As he holds the phone to his ear, his movement stops and he freezes. Whoever is speaking into his ear isn’t someone he’d expect to hear from.
Stryker lowers the phone and flips it shut, looking away, looking puzzled.
“I wonder what that son of a bitch wants from me now.”
Stryker takes the phone and tosses it aside into his gym bag. He’ll deal with that call later. Right now, he’s got more pressing matters. He goes back to the tape around his finger, back to visions of powerbombs dancing in his head.
(Tom) Who on Earth?
(JB) The way things have gone for Stryker recently, I can’t even imagine who that could have been.
Death of a Persona
The camera is now in the recesses of the darkest corner of the darkest hallway and there is a figure standing there, hiding in the shadows. The figure shifts on his feet and you can see a scowl on his face. The figure steps forward a little bit and it's Tyrone "Crazy Boy' Smith, and he doesn't look too happy.
(Crazy Boy) Another loss... another loss on a high scale and another loss of a match that means the world to me. I lost another chance to win my Atlantic Championship and frankly I am sick of it. I have been standing here thinking about what may be the source of all my problems. And I think I have the solution...
Crazy Boy.
Tyrone nods his head and paces around the hallway, trying to let everyone absorb what has been said.
(Crazy Boy) Crazy Boy has been the source of all my problems. Ever since I have been known as "Crazy Boy" and the "Crazy One", I have choked and froze when it meant the most. I have lost so many opportunities at the tag titles and other chances to win big matches, just because I have tried to take my medical problems and make it into something I am not. But no more... no more of the Crazy Boy. No more trying to be something I am not.. no more of the games and the jokes... what I am trying to say is...
CRAZY BOY IS DEAD!!!!!
Tyrone stops his pacing and stares right into the camera.
(Crazy Boy) Yes, you heard me. Crazy Boy is no more: buried and dead. I am now known as Tyrone Smith. I am going to be more ruthless and aggressive than what anyone has ever seen out of me. I am more focused and prepared on my goal. I am going to take the next step up and take out the opposition in front of me...
My name is Tyrone Smith... and I will be the next Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
Tyrone, with a sly grin on his face, walks away from the camera as the show fades to black.
I Wasn't Looking for You
Cut backstage once again. The shot is bouncing slightly as our cameraman moves quickly to follow three people. In view are those three people's backs: Slush, Ammo and Twitch. The latter is lagging behind, but still staying a bit ahead of the cameraman (a polite move on the cameraman's part, as he could easily pass Twitch and keep closer to the other two).
After a few moments of this chase, Slush and Ammo stop, allowing Twitch and the cameraman to catch up. They've stopped because they've run into NAFW intern and Redemption Pre-Show commentator, Brian McJohnson.
(Slush) You know where they are, kid?
(Brian) Who?
(Twitch) Shame and Rusty NotPez!
Slush, now growing used to the Twitch-names™, simply answers the question in McJohnson's head before he asks.
(Slush) The Thomas Brothers. Bastards locked us up and attacked our partner.
McJohnson thinks about it for a second before replying.
(Brian) Ten bucks.
Slush glares. Ammo does too, and adds a grunt for good measure. This'll be Grunt and Glare combo #6, which is pretty much "Who the hell does this guy think he is?"
Quickly deciding that this kid is trying to play them for fools, and knowing that Brian's uncle is in charge of the Foundation's Security force (and thus any kind of physical action would be ill advised), Slush turns and starts to walk away, Ammo close on his heels. Twitch, however is about to pull out his wallet.
(Slush) Let's go Twitch!
Twitch, in a rare moment of obedience, follows, leaving Brian McJohnson without the extra money, which he'd earmarked for a few Big Macs at the nearest McDonald's.
(Brian) Come on, man! They don't pay me!
Without stopping, Ammo says one word that sums things up quite nicely.
(Ammo) So?
Leaving a steaming (and sweating - always with the sweating) Brian McJohnson behind, we follow Slush, Ammo and Twitch a little more, when we hear a new voice. It's our new friend Earl the low-level staffer!
(Earl) Um... Excuse me?
The Goods stop and look at Earl.
(Earl) Hey, uh... Were you looking for the... Uh... You know... The Thomas Brothers?
(Slush) Yes! Where are they?
Earl looks down at his shoes and shakes his head.
(Earl) Um... Well... Sorry sir, but uh... They've left the building...
Frustration crosses Slush's face for a moment, but it fades in the face of this meek staffer.
(Slush) Damn it. Well, thanks anyway pal.
Slush pats Earl on the back, and The Goods head off, leaving Earl to be glad that he spoke up for once.
(JB) Even if Spaz ends up being out of the picture for a while thanks to that attack by the Thomas Brothers, you can be damn sure The Goods aren't going to let this thing go!
COMMERCIAL~!
(JB) This is going to be interesting.
(Tom) If my interesting, you mean horribly violent – then sure, interesting this will be.
(JB) What makes you think that this is going to be violent, Bear?
(Tom) Let’s see – Heatwave not only framed Mike Stryker for arson, assault and attempted murder – but he cost him the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
(JB) So why isn’t Heatwave in prison?
(Tom) Suspension of disbelief, Mann-Wagon! Damnit!
(JB) Either way – Stryker has a chip on his shoulder and all the tools to knock it off!
GANSTA' GRILLZ!
A red spotlight appears at the top of the ramp and the lights dim slightly. "Felonies" by Boyz In Da Hood 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.
(JB) Heatwave hasn’t been in action for almost two months… so we’ll see how he can hang with Stryker!
(Tom) See if he can hang? We’ll have to see if Stryker can handle Heatwave’s mean streak.
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 dialogue 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, waiting for the match to begin.
Mike Stryker vs. Heatwave
Grudge Match
Phil Redding calls for the bell and we’re off. Stryker charges Heatwave and takes him to the mat with a double leg takedown – floating over into a side headlock and pounding on Heatwave’s skull with right after right after right. Redding pulls Stryker off, only for Stryker to break free and dive at Heatwave, who rolls through the ropes to the outside.
(JB) STRYKER IS PISSED!
(Tom) Stryker’s cheating!
(JB) This is a grudge match, Bear. They’re supposed to be at each other’s throats!
Heatwave signals that he’s through with this, and starts heading back towards the ramp. Just as he reaches the side, Stryker leaps over the top rope and lands on Heatwave, tackling him to the floor.
Heatwave rolls back towards the barricade, sitting up. Stryker runs forward, looking for a knee strike. Heatwave moves, and Stryker crashes into the barricade. He skips back, holding his knee. Heatwave pulls himself back to his feet, and runs towards Stryker, kicking him hard in the back of the knee and sweeping him to the floor. He drops a knee across Stryker’s neck, and leaves it on his windpipe.
Stryker rolls over onto his stomach to protect his throat, and Heatwave takes this opportunity to pick Stryker’s knee up and slam it into the concrete floor. Stryker screams in pain, rolling back towards the announce table. Heatwave runs towards Stryker, kneeing him in the chest, and then – after stepping back to take in the boos, grabs a handful of cable and wraps it around Stryker’s throat.
(Tom) That’s right, Heatwave! Show the Foundation what you have! Show them how you’ve been overlooked!
(JB) Heatwave’s only making Mike Stryker mad, Bear. Just wait until the Big City Hit Man gets his hands on the Mad Man from Miami.
(Tom) He might not be able to, Mann-Wheel. Watch out!
Heatwave pulls the monitors and cables off of the announce table and pulls Stryker back to his feet. Leaning the Big City Hit Man against the table, he chops him twice, and then lariats him to knock him on top. He pulls Stryker in, looking for the Black Furnace Driver, but Stryker blocks. He reverses, flipping Heatwave off the table onto the floor, pauses to rest his knee, and then leaps onto Heatwave when the Mad Man gets back to his feet. Stryker falls back, DDT’ing Heatwave on the floor.
(JB) Holy…
(Tom) Is he trying to give Heatwave a concussion?
(JB) Probably.
(Tom) Oh.
(JB) OH!
Stryker picks a monitor up off the floor and rushes in – knocking Heatwave back onto the announce table. Now Stryker’s looking for a piledriver – and hits it! Stryker rolls off of Heatwave and out of the rubble, and grabs a monitor. He tries to slam it onto Heatwave’s skull – but the Mad Man from Miami blocks with a shot to the eyes. Stryker drops the monitor and rolls off of Heatwave – who crawls out of the wreckage and into the ring.
Stryker follows, only for Heatwave to kick him in the skull as he gets in. Stryker rolls in, leaving his bad leg on the middle rope. Heatwave jumps on the second rope and brings his weight down on Stryker’s leg. Dragon Screw Leg Whip and a Figure Four Leg Lock follow.
The fans rallying behind him, Stryker rolls over the Figure Four and reverses the pressure. Both men get back to their feet and start brawling. Stryker wins the slugfest, irish-whips Heatwave, and hits a spinebuster. He gets two. Double Underhook leads to a Tiger Driver which is transitioned into the New York Cloverleaf.
Heatwave grabs the ropes almost immediately. Redding forces Stryker to break.
Heatwave rolls to the outside, reaches under the ring, and comes back with a steel chair. When Stryker goes outside to get him – Heatwave smashes him in the skull with the chair. For all the brawling and refusal on both competitors parts to stay in the ring, this one is called a no contest. He rolls back in the ring – hits Stryker with a second chair shot, and then, with Stryker dazed, drops the chair and hits a Black Furnace Driver on the chair.
The Hero Burns at Both Ends
(JB) Heatwave doesn't even care about this match!
(Tom) Why should he? His beef is with The Reaper.
Heatwave rolls back out of the ring and begins to rifle around underneath, where he pulls out a canister of gas and a pair of handcuffs. He places them on the apron then walks over to the time keeper's table and rips the microphone away from Brian McJohnson – filling in for GNR filling in for Troy Gilmore. Heatwave rolls underneath the bottom rope, and as he gets to his feet, the referee tries to push him out and gives him a stern warning not to do anything further to Stryker, but Heatwave shoves him down onto the mat and he rolls to the outside.
(JB) This can't be good.
(Tom) Like all great dynasties, I think we're about to see a repeat performance!
Stryker is starting to come to in the ring, but Heatwave lays the boots into him further. Before Stryker can try to react, he's immediately handcuffed to the bottom rope. Heatwave casually and calmly picks up the cannister of gasoline and douses it over the Big City Hitman. Heatwave's next step is to pull out his Zippo lighter, which he begins flicking open and shut. He raises the microphone to his mouth and begins to speak.
(Heatwave) What a familiar circumstance we find ourselves in tonight.
The crowd begins to boo louder.
(Heatwave) About a month ago, it was "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons in this very same position, handcuffed to the bottom rope, doused in gasoline. I saw an opportunity that night, and I took it. When Trevor Cunning couldn't finish what he set out there to do after this very man, Mike Stryker, ran him off, I capitalized and finished the job. The lights went out and Reaper went up in flames.
Cue more continuous booing from those in attendence.
(Heatwave) So now here we are with the tables turned. Now its Mike Stryker handcuffed to the ropes and covered in gas, and I'm seconds away from lighting his ass on fire. So let me ask you this Reaper... Are you going to return the favor for Stryker? Are you going to come out here and try to stop what he tried to stop for happening to you? Or are you going to let me claim another victim until I work my way back to you?
Heatwave paces around the ring waiting for a response as the crowd jeers him. After a few moment of nothing, he runs his mouth some more.
(Heatwave) C'mon Aarons. I expected more out of you. You're the ruthless Reaper, but you're going to let me do your dirty work? Sure, you cost Stryker a championship belt and he wrecked your prized car with your face through the windshield, but you're not honestly going to let me have the satisfaction of putting him down like you couldn't do at Redemption, are you?
Now the crowd is really buzzing in anticipation for the Reaper to make his presence known at the ringside area.
(Heatwave) Oh... oh... wait... I know why you're not making it out here right now Reaper... Roll the footage!
The big screen shows The Reaper backstage, bloodied and unconscious lying on a cold concrete floor thanks to an attack by Heatwave earlier in the night.
(JB) This isn't even funy!
(Tom) I'm getting a kick out of it.
Heatwave is laughing hysterically in the ring at the sight of his nemesis being incapacitated. At the same time, Mike Stryker begins to regain his bearings and struggles to break free, but unfortunately can't.
(Heatwave) Oops. Did I do that Lenny? Well I guess you won't be returning the favor to Stryker here any time soon. That's fine by me, because he's going to go up in smoke! This is what you get for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!
Heatwave drops the mic and begins flipping his Zippo lighter, taunting Stryker who is struggling to free himself. Suddenly, the crowd pops with excitement.
(Tom) Is that who I think it is?
Sprinting down the ramp is none other than............
Keith Owens... and the crowd is in absolute shock.
Keith slides under the bottom rope and onto his feet. Heatwave turns around and the two exchange blows. The Zippo lighter goes flying from Heatwave's grasp and lands centimeters away from the gasoline stained portion of the mat. Owens Irish whips Heatwave to the side of the ring opposite Stryker and follows closely behind him, sending him over the top rope and crashing to the floor below with a huge clothesline.
The crowd is going crazy as Owens looks around almost emotionless in response to their reaction. Heatwave begins to slowly back himself up the ramp.
(JB) Keith Owens has just saved Mike Stryker from being lit on fire!
(Tom) I wouldn't be so sure about that...
Owens walks over to where Stryker is still restrained and he picks up the Zippo lighter. Intensely staring at the Big City Hitman, Owens flips open the Zippo lighter.
(Tom) Do it Owens! Do it! Do it before the lights go out again and someone else has to!
Owens then snaps the lighter shut and tosses it from the ring. The crowd rejoices at the sight of this unusual turn of events.
(JB) Why in the world would Keith Owens save Mike Stryker from the same fate that The Reaper faced just one month ago?
(Tom) I don't know, but I sure as hell don't like it!
Owens turns and slowly walks away from the scene, shifting his attention to Heatwave who has made his way up the ramp and is livid.
(JB) We're out of time, but I have a feeling this isn't over yet. Be sure to tune in next week to Annihilation, only on TNT!
With the camera zooming in on Owens, fade out to the NAFW logo.
