Someone Else's Door
Fade to black. Fade back on in. Fade into what, you say?
The image of Aleister Essex standing before you, or, at least that's what's assumed given the focus on the manager's upper torso and head, however, those black filled-in screens CAN be deceitful, you know...
(Essex) This... Is difficult to properly address...
The tone of Essex's voice is hardly reminiscent of last week's hellfire-like rage. It is calm, it is wavering, it is depressive, and it's downright mournful. Appearing before the televised audience in his traditional dark red garb, the well-dressed ex-Anglican possessed the kind of vocal tone that only someone delivering a eulogy can produce.
(Essex) Quite frankly, all is lost. Lost, lost, lost. Lost amid the sands of time... The mountainous sands of time... And even when removed- By three excavation teams, no less- it is all gone...
Everything went with him.
If it were not for the common knowledge that Essex's charge, Hush, has been seeing more face time on the sides of milk cartons with the words "HAVE YOU SEEN ME?" printed above them, than on NAFW Teleivision, Essex could very well have been talking about losing a dear loved one... If the red-suited devil ever HAD loved ones...
(Essex) It's quite droll, actually... I- no- WE were so close... So so so so so so so so... soooooooo close... We were in reach of the glory, the glory of NAFW Foundation Championship gold... But it's now gone, gone like he is.
We'll never have that glory now... Just the memories...
Essex removes his fedora, and bows his head, his shoulders shaking as though he were sobbing.
However, as the sobs become more and more audible, so does the change in tone gradually evolve, as Essex's pitch changes from being sorrowful to being downright sinister. Sinister enough, in fact, that his sobbing begins to take on the characteristics of chuckling; the kind Essex elucidates when he's up to something.
(Essex) However... There always comes a time in a man's life when change... Has a way of pushing him forward... Bypassing his limitations...
And Chain Reaction is still right around the corner...
Placing his fedora back upon his head, and lifting his face back to the camera, Essex demonstrates the wicked smile and wide eyes of a man possessed.
(Essex) I WILL have that belt in my possession, and there is nothing that can stop me from reaching that goal... Tombs, businessmen, they're all nothing but mere obstacles to overcome... Yes, Aleister, you STILL have opportunity coming your way...
...It's just a matter of knocking at someone else's door...
(JB) Someone else’s door? Who could Aleister Essex be talking about?
(Kramer) CHRONIC’S COMING BACK! I KNOW IT!
(Tom) Get the hell out of the booth you blabbering idiot!
Chuckling madly, the last we see of Aleister Essex is his mad eyes staring unwaveringly into the cameras as, bit by bit, we fade to black.
Your television screen, tuned to TNT, is 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.
The guitar riff is playing over this countdown.
When the countdown reaches zero, there’s a pause, and then the rest of the hard hitting instruments kick in.
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!!!
The cameras pan around the arena, showing shots of various fan signs before finallu cutting to the ringside announcer’s table, where JB Mann and Tom “The Bear” Kalhoun are standing by.
(JB) Hello and welcome to Annihilation. I’m JB Mann, with me as always is…
(Tom) Where’s Cunning?
(JB) Tom Kalhoun.
(Tom) Where’s Cunning?
(JB) What on earth do you mean: “Where’s Cunning?”
(Tom) We always start Annihilation with Trevor Cunning.
(JB) Not tonight, Bear.
(Tom) C’mon – I’m like a junkie! I need my fix!
(JB) Well, tonight, you will get to see Trevor Cunning take on the newly christened Tyrone Smith.
(Tom) I think we have a new contender for worst name ever.
(JB) We’ve also got two huge tag team matches – each of which will go a long way into determining who gets a title shot against the Trust Fund Kids at Chain Reaction.
(Tom) I already know who’s getting that shot, Mann-Wagon.
(JB) Really?
(Tom) No one. Tonight Keith Owens qualifies for Chain Reaction – Trev will next week, and come Chain Reaction we’ll have the first ever Trust Fund Kids finale!
(JB) Well, first Keith Owens will have to get past the dangerous, devious and all too mischievous – the Mad Man from Miami, Heatwave.
(Tom) No sheer indignation that Heatwave tried to set Stryker on fire last week?
(JB) I don’t appreciate, nor do I condone Heatwave’s actions, Bear – All I’m saying is he’s a dangerous competitor.
(Tom) Most felons tend to be dangerous. Like Kramer – whenever he moves to a new neighborhood, he has to… ahem… have a talk with every neighbor in a five mile radius.
(JB) Let’s head to the back – before this gets out of hand.
For You
Cut backstage to the security post at the primary wrestler's entrance. This is where everyone checks in for the event, and Ryan McJohnson's crew keeps out anyone who doesn't belong. On this night, a fairly new recruit to the NAFW Security force is on duty. His name isn't particularly important, but because I don't like using generic identifiers, we'll call him Tony.
Now, the question becomes this: Why do we care about Tony the fairly new NAFW Security recruit? That's simple. We care because Tony is about to receive a message. The bearer of that message approaches. He's a portly young fellow, who it seems still managed to get at least a couple of Big Mac's since the last show, despite not getting any cash from The Goods.
That's right, I just referenced last week's show. If you don't know what I'm talking about, shame on you. But I'll fill you in on the important bit anyway: He's NAFW Intern Brian McJohnson.
(Brian) Hey you!
Our Brian is nothing, if not direct. Since Tony is the only one around, he looks over at BMcJ and raises an eyebrow.
(Brian) Yeah, I'm talking to you buddy! Listen...
(Tony) Who are you?
Brian smiles inwardly, realizing that Tony, being new, doesn't know who he is. That'll make what Brian's about to do a whole lot simpler.
(Brian) My name is Earl. I work here.
Clearly that isn't his name. Equally clearly this is another reference to last week's show (also, a comedy on NBC starring Jason Lee). In any case, it doesn't matter to Tony that Brian's lying, so long as he sees an NAFW Staff badge. As an Intern, Brian has one of those, and makes sure Tony can see it.
(Tony) OK. What can I do for you, Earl?
(Brian) I got something for you.
(Tony) And what is that?
(Brian) A message from your boss.
(Tony) Mister McJohnson? Why wouldn't he tell me himself?
(Brian) He's a busy guy. Lots of crazies trying to sneak backstage and whatnot. Plus, dude's the boss. Shouldn't have to do busy work like this.
Tony decides not to bother arguing with the kid any longer.
(Tony) Fine. What's the message?
Brian hands Tony a piece of paper.
(Brian) If Spaz shows up tonight, don't let him in. Just give him that. Buchanan's orders.
Tony looks over the paper, noting that it does have Ray Buchanan's signature on it, and concludes that it's legit.
(Tony) Alright.
Behind Tony, the door is beginning to open. He hears it, and begins to turn away.
(Tony) Back to work... Thanks Earl.
(Brian) You got it, pal.
Brian turns and walks away, grinning widely. Back to ringside.
(JB) What is that boy up to?
(Tom) Delivering a message, Mannatee. Weren't you paying attention?
(JB) That message is clearly fake, Bear! Why else would he call himself Earl?
(Tom) Maybe he changed his name?
(JB) Something fishy's going on here, Bear. I know it!
Earlier This Week
Fade up.
We're in an airport, presumably in Indianapolis. What we're looking at is a security station, somewhere in the midst of the various bagged claim areas. At this station there is a small room which we can see into because there's a big hole. In this big hole is a desk, at which sits a young guy, about twenty five and pretty average for airport security.
In front of this station Troy Clark and Nicole Devereaux are pacing back and forth like they're in some kind of race. They look perturbed, put out, and impatient. Like they've been waiting for something a while.
This is where we get the card: EARLIER THIS WEEK
Several moments pass, then Troy stops pacing. He walks over to the young man, leaning into the service window.
(Troy) How much longer?
(Airport Employee #1) Just a few moments, sir. He's on his way.
(Troy) Did he say what the problem is?
(AE #1) Again, he'll explain everything.
Troy turns away and throws his hands up, looking like he's about to hit somebody. Nicole stops pacing and walks over to him. They talk, whispering so the camera cannot hear them.
After a moment another uniformed man arrives, this one and older gentlemen. He carries two bags, each just above the carryon limit. He approaches Troy and Nicole, a placating look on his face.
(AE #2) Mr. and Mrs. Clark?
The new arrival puts the bags down in front of the couple. Each grabs their respective bag and looks at the second Airport Employee.
(AE #2) We apologize for the delay. The baggage crew felt vibrations when they unloaded one of your bags. We have to check these things. We have very-
(Troy) What the bleep was bleeping vibrating?
(AE #2) When we did the search we found this.
AE #2 holds up a large plastic bag. Inside is a dildo, painted to resemble the flag.
(AE #2) I assume this is yours.
Troy shoots a glare at Nicole, who stands stunned. The look is not embarrassed. It's not shame. It is utter bewilderment.
After a moment she takes the bag, faking a sheepish smile.
(AE #2) Have a nice day.
Troy and Nicole turn and start toward the exit. Nicole hands the dildo to troy, who turns it in his hand. At the end of one revolution he sees the writing.
It reads: You can't out badass a bad ass. Rock on.
Cut.
(Tom) Wow, Rocker’s a dick.
(JB) I thought you liked Scott Rocker
(Tom) Wait… think about it.
(JB) I hate you.
(Tom) You just got it, didn’t you?
(JB) You’re not funny.
(Tom) I’m as funny as Rocker is badass.
(JB) Rocker isn’t badass.
(Tom) Like hell! I’m friggin’ hilarious and Scott Rocker is the Bastion of Bad Ass.
(JB) Can we please talk about the match at hand?
(Tom) No one’s in the ring.
The arena lights dim 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...
(JB) Speaking of Scott Rocker, Psycho managed to defeat the… I’m not saying this.
(Tom) Maharajah of Make Outs.
(JB) He pinned Rocker last week when Scott was distracted. By his own tag team partner.
(Tom) I like this Psycho character – big, brainless, and willing to do whatever the hell Carlos Smith wants.
(JB) Why is Carlos here? I thought he was banned from the NAFW when his brother Tyrone defeated him at Oblivion!
(Tom) Just from active competition, Mann-Hole. Nothing says he can’t be a manager.
(JB) Did you just contribute something useful?
(Tom) That I did. And now that Carlos has his Psycho – he’ll show Crazy Boy just what it means to be insane!
(JB) In just a minute, Psycho’s going to take on the Atlantic Champion.
(Tom) Wilson!
(JB) Andy D.
(Tom) Well, it’s an easy mistake.
(JB) How do you confuse Andy D with a volleyball.
(Tom) Well, think about it – they’re both white, round – and apparently – mute.
(JB) You’re not funny.
(Tom) I’m friggin’ hilarious!
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.
(JB) Andy D, out to restore the prestige the Atlantic Championship deserves.
(Tom) Then why isn’t this a title match?
(JB) Psycho hasn’t earned a title match.
(Tom) Bah. Andy D just isn’t a fighting champion!
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. Before he can take off his shades - Psycho attacks!
Andy D (AC) vs. Psycho
Non-Title
Psycho charges at Andy with a double sledge to the back of the skull, before tossing clubbing forearms at the Atlantic Champions back. With Andy D in the corner, Psycho begins choking him, raking the eyes at five when Walt Mason asks for a clean break. Irish-whip to the opposite corner leads to a blind charge – and Andy D puts his foot up. Psycho runs back at Andy – who puts his foot up again. A third charge meets a third boot, finally stunning the maniacal mental patient – allowing Andy to hop onto the second rope and leap off with a dropkick.
He covers, but only gets one.
Andy pulls Psycho up, attempts an irish-whip that’s reversed. Andy ducks a lariat, stops, and tries a backslide… getting one. Crucifix Pin attempt also gets one. Psycho rolls out of the crucifix and finally hits the lariat he’s been looking for, flipping Andy 360 degrees.
Psycho next pulls Andy up by his throat, holding him high until Mason hits five, before sitting out with a powerbomb type maneuver. Chokebomb gets two and Carlos directs Psycho towards the top rope. Looking for the frog splash that put Scott Rocker away last week – Psycho flies – and lands on Andy D’s knees. The Atlantic Champion springs to his feet, and, with Psycho stunned, holding his midsection, hits the Dragon’s Bite.
That gets three!
(JB) Another successful victory for Andy D!
(Tom) He really can hit that Dragon’s Bite from anywhere, can’t he?
(JB) He sure can, Bear!
(Tom) So tell me, Mann-Hole, have you ever heard the phrase “ you win the battle – but lose the war?”
(JB) I don’t see how that applies, Bear.
(Tom) Well – Psycho might have lost tonight – but it looks like he’s going to have the last word!
Getting Back
Carlos climbs into the ring, steel chair in hand. He hands the weapon to his Psycho who is still holding the side of his skull with one hand. With Andy on the top rope, holding the Atlantic Championship high above his head in celebration, Psycho charges – smashing Andy D in the base of the spine with the chair.
The D falls off the ropes.
Psycho emits a guttural scream – a primal cry from deep within himself. He looks around the ring, looking for Carlos, looking for guidance. Carlos points at the Atlantic Championship then the Atlantic Champion, both lying on the mat – and orders Psycho to strike, to go… Psychotic… if you will.
(JB) Can we get some help out here? Where’s Tyrone Smith when you need him?
(Tom) If I had to guess, he’s probably flat on his back somewhere, looking up at the lights.
(JB) Quiet you! This is serious!
(Tom) I am serious, Mann-Wheel. Tyrone’s spent more time on his back than your mother did during the sixties.
Before Psycho can strike, unexpected assistance emerges from the crowd. The returning Peter Gilmour sprints down the ramp and tackles Psycho, knocking the steel chair from his hands. The pair rolls around on the mat, before each gets back to a vertical base. Gilmour staggers Psycho with lefts and then after a big boot to the midsection– bounces off the ropes, only to walk right into a chair shot from Carlos Smith.
Before Gilmour can recover – Psycho scoops him up and hits the Klown on the back of the steel chair. Referees hit the ring, forcing Carlos and Psycho back up the ramp. In the ring, Andy D checks on Gilmour, who’s still prone on the mat, holding the back of his skull.
(Tom) I guess that Gilmour chap ain’t so extreme after all, eh?
(JB) He was only trying to help!
(Tom) Well that’s what he gets, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong! People with sympathy… bah! We don’t need ‘em.
Aluminum
Welcome to The Goods' locker room. Currently inside are Twitch and Ammo. The latter is in a corner warming up, doing reps with 25 pound weights in each hand. The former appears to be having a deep philosophical conversation with his towel.
(Twitch) Listen to what Twitch is telling you, Blake! The Heart of Gold can go anywhere, anywhen, instantly! It's totally faster than the Aluminum Falcon!
OK, so that's what passes for "deep" in Twitch's world. The man is talking to a towel, after all.
(Twitch) Twitch doesn't care about Lawn Polo or Puke Hightalker!
The locker room door opens and Slush enters, holding a cell phone in his hand.
(Slush) That was Sean. He's running a bit late.
(Twitch) Damn it! Twitch needs Pez to settle this argument with Blake!
(Slush) What argument?
In the back of the room, Ammo grunts. Number 36: "You don't want to know."
(Twitch) Which is faster, the Heart of Gold or the Aluminum Falcon?
Slush stares at Twitch.
(Slush) Millennium Falcon.
(Twitch) That's...
(Slush) No, that's not what you said. Look, I can handle you calling me Flush... I can live with the fact that you gave your towel a name and talk to it... But I draw the line on your antics at Star Wars!
Ammo grunts again. This one is Number 24: "Good thing you weren't here earlier... You'd have blown a gasket."
(Twitch) So Flush is taking Blake's side!
Slush sighs heavily, realizing that Ammo's earlier grunt was quite right... He really didn't want to know. And with that, we're done here.
Something’s Rotten in Kansas. And It Wants to Eat You.
And Not In The Good Way.
Dead: With Dick and Jane #1!
Comics with Brains… BRAINS!
Available only at WOWIO.com.
Stand By Me?
A black and gold 1969 'Cuda pulls up to the curb just outside of the arena, as the fans in attendance begin to react in a mixed fashion; a direct result of the seemingly unclear nature which the individual stepping out of the 1969 'Cuda has personified in the last few weeks.
Taking in a breath before making his way inside the building, it is now clear to all in attendance that Leonard Aarons has arrived.
(JB) Does the champ always make a big deal out of his arrival every night?
(Tom): Well, Mannwhich, the fact that he's the Champ indicated that it's his right to arrive at whatever Tool-Level he pleases?
(JB) I may regret asking this, but what Level of Tool is Aarons, in your book?
(Tom) I'd give him a three out of five... He needs shades... And a woman around his arm.
(JB) Don't we all?
(Tom) ...What're you looking at me for?
As Aarons, displaying the Foundation Heavyweight Championship proudly over his shoulder, makes a right at the parking lot entrance, there is a loud tapping noise that echoes from a few feet behind him.
(JB) The hell was that?
(Tom) Well it did sound like feet being tapped... Maybe another senator looking for a little man-love?
(JB) Please don't give me images of Senator Owens like that...
(Tom) Hey, hey, get your mind out of the gutter! I had something... More wholesome in mind.
(JB) ...Right.
The Champ, just as confused as our announcers (though I doubt as confused as JB's sexual orientation. ZING!) becomes paralyzed in motion, turned his head to and fro to see who's around, before verbalizing his inquiry.
(Aarons) Who's there?
There is a brief moment of silence before a sinister chuckle emerges from behind Aarons.
A cliche question, but an answerable question no less...
Aarons turns to face the origin of the voice and finds himself face to face with the man who managed the monstrous former Atlantic Champion, Hush.
The name's Aleister Essex..., he added as he tipped his fedora to the Foundation Heavyweight Champion, At your service.
Aarons, now knowing what he's dealing with, straightens back up and regains his composure.
(Aarons) Essex, is it?..., and as Essex nods his head accordingly, Alright, Mr. Essex, you can do me one service...
Just what the fuck are you playing at?
Essex grins and takes off his fedora, unsheathing his mane of matted blonde hair, as he speaks;
(Essex) The answer's quite simple, dear Leonard, it's the very thing that's been on your mind the most since Redemption...
The match that could very well be a synonym for a gladiator's brawl, a tried and true test of a man's internal fortitude, as well as one of the surest measuring sticks to determine one's recognizable greatness.
I'm talking about Chain Reaction, Leonard; I'm talking about achieving the impossible.
Aarons raises an eyebrow, and the question spills out before he can gather that it's all too cliche to even ask.
(Aarons) And just what is that?
Essex begins to shake with laughter, all the while raising his right arm and extending his index finger to indicate the championship belt draped across Aarons' shoulder.
(Essex) Simple, Leonard; walking out of Chain Reaction with what you're bringing into it, the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
A feat which has eluded the likes of Hall of Famers and wannabes alike-...
(Aarons) Last I checked, Hush wasn't the one wearing that belt-...
(Essex) Hush is out of the picture, Aarons. Don't be naive, this is the chance for you and I to make history-...
Aarons took a step forward towards Essex, his tone rising in anger.
(Aarons) And just what do you mean by "you and I" making history, Essex!?
Essex took a deep breath before raising his head, staring right into Aarons' forlorn eyes, and spoke;
(Essex) Listen Leonard, now isn't the time to play games. You've got Heatwave breathing down your neck, you've got Mike Stryker looking to get square with you, and if there was anyone on this planet who knows how to take care of Stryker, it's ME, Aarons.
Not to mention Mike Lane, Sean Thomas, Trevor Cunning, and, yes, even Keith Owens.
I think it's clear to you as well to me that you need more help if you're even going to have a microscopic prayer to leave Chain Reaction with the belt, and given your tenacity as champ, I believe that if you took me up as your manager I would be able to offer you the one thing no other man or woman is willing to give you as of late.
Essex pointed two fingers directly at his pupils and then at Aarons as he spoke.
(Essex) Eyes in the back of your head.
He already has those.
Enter Vanessa Chamberlain, stage left. Looking as gorgeous as always, it looks as though Vanessa wants to take side with the Champ, but his steely gaze interrupts her forward motion, just then, Essex opens his mouth,
(Essex) Oh yes, like SHE's been helpful to you as of late-...
(Vanessa) I'm sorry, but if we're going by recent track records, you shouldn't be helping anyone out, Essex. Unless of course you're looking to have L here buried under 6 feet of dirt like the last guy you managed..
(Essex) You have quite the nerve, little girl-...
(Aarons) SHUT UP!!! Both of you.
Essex raises his arm and opens his mouth to protest, but instead chooses to fold his arm shut and frown, meanwhile Vanessa takes the opportunity to speak to her man.
(Vanessa) Listen to me, L, if there's only one person you should ever have by your side, it's me. Please, please listen to me. I get that we've had our differences but you were right and I was wrong. I really believe we can make this thing work and I know that with me by your side, you can walk out of Chain Reaction like no other champion before you has. Still champion.
Laughing maniacally, Essex draws the attention of both participants.
(Essex) Dear, you're going to make me die laughing with that emotional diatribe... Who in the world do you think you're fooling, sweetheart!? Leonard isn't as gullible as you think! He knows just as well as I do that the minute you're through with him, you'd toss him right under the bus, meanwhile I'm the one trying to secure immortality for Leonard in the form of the Chain Reaction match.
Think about it Leonard, I may be diabolical, but have I EVER abandoned my charge, Leonard!? Ask yourself this...
Aarons gave Essex a hard look, measuring the sincerity and brutal honesty in his word, before being interrupted by Vanessa.
(Vanessa) L and I may have our issues, but it's between the two of US to work out, so back off, Algie Crumpler Essex!
(Aarons) Fucking hell, I don't have the patience to deal with this shit...
Fuming, Aarons turned and began walking away from the scene, but not before being asked to stay;
(Vanessa) Wait, L! We really need to talk about...
As the camera focused on the last two remaining individuals in the scene, they each added one final jab before departing.
(Essex) He'll consider my offer... Just you wait and see.
(Vanessa) Not on your life, Essex.
The two head off in different directions, as we fade to black.
Another Sighting
(Tyrone) You know Carlos, last week, you told me you had a surprise for me and so far I haven't seen it yet. I am still waiting for what you have in store for me, big Brother.
I have no idea what it is, or really care, but as you can see, I'm doing great on my own. I still am waiting for whatever you are going to throw at me, but I can tell you, I'm ready. I have never been so ready before in my life.
That is Tyrone Smith, and he is talking about big brother, Carlos, who has made another appearance in the NAFW. Tyrone is sitting in the lounge room, chugging down a Mountain Dew and eating a Snickers bar. `After taking another drink of his Dew, he turns around and takes another quick look at the camera, then turns away from it.
(Tyrone) I still don't know what you are doing around these parts, Carlos.. I told you before that I kicked you out of here at Oblivion, but yet you are here, showing your face. Why even bother? You have a good job, a good home, a family down there in Mississippi, and yet you are here, and you are going to go nowhere! I don't know.
Tyrone then has a thoughtful look on his face as he continues to speak.
(Tyrone) Although, I must admit. The young lad that you are around seems very very familiar to me... I just cannot put my finger on it. He just seems like I know him. I just wish I could figure it out. But it doesn't matter. Just stay out of my way, Carlos, if you know what is good for you!
Tyrone turns around from the cam and goes back to his snack as this portion of NAFW comes to an end.
Another Shot
We're situated inside Commissioner Ray Buchanan's office where he is on his cell phone, making some kind of random phone call. The laws of wrestling state that when this happens, someone is bound to barge in uninvited. Cue that in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1.
It's Trevor Cunning storming through the door. What a surprise!
The Commissioner does not look pleased at all.
(Buchanan) I'll have to call you back.
Buchanan flips his cell phone shut and looks up at Cunning from behind his desk.
(Buchanan) And what do I owe you the pleasure of this visit, Trevor?
The Commissioner's tone is less than enthused.
(Trevor) I'll tell you what Bucky, Let Trevor make it real simple for you.
It's absolute bullshit that you gave Keith a Chain Reaction qualifying match and not me.
Cunning leans over the desk and gets right in Buchanan's personal space. The stench of Jack Daniels on his breath is less than pleasing for the Commissioner.
(Trevor) I thought I made myself clear last week when I said I wanted in Chain Reaction! I never got my rightful rematch for that title I never should have even lost in the first place.
(Buchanan) And I thought I made myself clear that anyone who wanted to be in Chain Reaction had to earn their way in by winning a qualifying match.
Trevor scoffs at Commissioner Buchanan.
(Trevor) You want Trevor to beat a bitch? Fine, Big Ray! Trevor will beat any bitch you chooooooose. Sign Trevor up. Put his name on the list! Book him against whoever you want next week and he will destroy ‘em.
Now its "Big Ray's" turn to laugh in Cunning's face.
(Buchanan) I'll do you one better Cunning. Tonight, your match against Tyrone Smith is now a Chain Reaction Qualifying Match. And, if I'm not mistaken, it appears your match is next. Best of luck to you, because this is the only qualifying shot you're going to get.
Now both men are laughing loudly, albeit in a very fake and contrived manner.
(Trevor) You mean... my match... with Crazy Boy... is to get into Chain Reaction... and... it's next?
The laughter never stops in between phrases as Cunning was speaking. It doesn't stop for Buchanan either.
(Buchanan) I hope you're prepared!
After several moments, and Cunning realizing Buchanan is serious, he takes his hands off the desk, stops laughing, and turns around. He gets snarl on his face and mutters What a freakin’ joke under his breath before leaving.
Ray Buchanan doesn't stop laughing as we fade out.
(Tom) This isn't fair! Cunning has had no time to prepare for a Chain Reaction Qualifying Match!
(JB) It's still the same match he's known about for a week Bear.
(Tom) But... but...
(JB) But nothing. If Trevor Cunning is prepared to face Tyrone Smith, then he's got nothing to worry about.
(Tom) I'm sure Trevor Cunning can take Crazy Boy, any day of the week, any time, any place. Right?...
(JB) ...Right Tom. You keep thinking that. Tyrone appears more serious and determined than ever since shedding his Crazy Boy persona, and I'm sure this will be an interesting match.
"Lip Gloss and Black" by Atreyu hits the PA as the lights dim. 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 – realizing it is NAFW's Tyrone Smith. Tyrone walks down the ramp, acknowledges the crowd and slides under the bottom ropes. The lights flicker back on as Tyrone pumps his fist in the air, runs around off the ropes and then turns, and waits for his opponent to come.
(Tom) You know what they say, Mann-Wagon – even if you put your poop in a velvet bag – it still smells like crap!
(JB) Who says that?
(Tom) You know… they say it. The royal they.
(JB) The royal they…
(Tom) Right.
(JB) So what exactly, do the royal they mean by that?
(Tom) Tyrone Smith, Crazy Boy – his name don’t matter. The uncrowned Foundation Heavyweight Champion, one half of the Tag Team Champions, my favorite wrestler, Trevor Cunning – is going to beat the living hell out of him!
(JB) What makes you so certain?
(Tom) Because. It’s freakin’ Crazy Boy!
(Tom) Here. We. Go! Woohoo!
Trevor Cunning steps through the curtain the moment “Sober” by Tool hits the public address. He’s wearing three popped, pastel polo shirts (pink atop yellow atop green) over of his ring singlet and holds a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left hand. As the lighting frames his face in shadow, he takes a drag of Jack and swallows hard.
When Cunning hits the ringside area, he takes another pull and steps onto the ring apron. He leans back across the top rope, ready to spit Jack Daniels into the first few rows. Tyrone Smith charges – looking for a high knee to the back to knock Cunning off the apron.
Tyrone Smith vs. Trevor Cunning (TT)
Chain Reaction Qualifying Match
Cunning however, sees Tyrone coming, and drops to the apron, pulling the top rope down as he falls. Tyrone tumbles to the outside, landing hard on the mat. Cunning drops to the floor, waits for Tyrone to face him, and then spits the mouthful of Jack in Tyrone’s eyes!
(JB) C’mon, Elbourn! Do something about that!
(Tom) The bell hasn’t rung yet, Mann-Wheel… anything’s legal!
Cunning paintbrushes Tyrone with his boot, before stepping back and blasting him with a right hand. He pulls Tyrone up and starts peppering his forehead with rights, knocking the artist formerly known as Crazy Boy back to his knees. Running boot sends Tyrone tumbling back towards the announce table. Cunning pulls JB Mann’s monitor off the table and blasts Tyrone in the skull, sending pieces of plastic spraying into the crowd.
With Tyrone slumped on the floor, Cunning grabs a microphone cable and begins choking Tyrone. He steps off of Tyrone, climbs onto the announce table, and soaks in the crowd’s disgust. Bits of paper, cups, hot dogs, and full beers start hitting Cunning, exploding when they hit him.
(JB) You’re a miserable son of a bitch, you know that, Cunning!
(Tom) You’re the man, Trevor! You’re the man!
Cunning pulls his polos off and whips them at Tyrone Smith as he crawls to the ring. Cunning hops off the table, pulls him to a vertical base, and chops him twice in the chest. He positions Tyrone against the steel ring post, steps back, and charges. Tyrone moves and Cunning smashes into the steel. Tyrone rolls inside the ring and Elbourn calls for the bell.
Cunning rolls inside, charges at Tyrone in the corner, and Smith moves again. Cunning connects with the buckle, and Smith rolls him up for two. Cunning scrambles to his feet, eats a dropkick which sends him back towards the ropes, and a hurricanrana which takes him over for another two count.
Now quite pissed off Cunning rolls out, misses a lariat, and waits for Tyrone as he sprints across the ring. Smith looks for a cross body, but the stronger Cunning catches him, and throws him overhead with a fallaway slam. Tyrone rolls through, stumbles to his feet, and walks into an exploder suplex for two. Boot and Rally DDT gets two.
Scoop slam on Tyrone and Cunning heads to the top rope. He raises his arms in the air and attempts the Hangover Elbow. Tyrone moves, grabs Cunning’s now injured arm, and tries a La Magistral cradle. This gets two.
Tyrone boots Cunning in the stomach and calls for the Crazy Slam. He tries to lift Cunning, but Trevor blocks the suplex attempt. Cunning scoops him into a fireman’s carry position, pushes him off his shoulder, and knees Tyrone right in the jaw.
(Tom) The Drink to Forget!
(JB) Damnit! C’mon Tyrone. Let’s see that heart!
Cunning covers. Gets one… gets two…
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.
(JB) It’s the Goods!
(Tom) Always sticking their noses where they don’t belong!
(JB) Trevor Cunning started this when he sneak attacked Ammo!
(Tom) You mean when Slush cheated to pin Cunning?
Cunning gets off Tyrone before Elbourn can count three and starts looking around the ring, licking his lips and moving anxiously.
(Tom) So where the hell are the Goods, anyway?
(JB) I… I don’t know.
(Tom) Are they going to come in through the crowd? From under the ring?
With Cunning distracted, Tyrone climbs back to his feet. He rushes at Cunning from behind, pushes him into the ropes, and rolls him up from behind, pulling the tights as Elbourn counts to three!
(JB) Tyrone Smith does it!
(Tom) ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME?
(JB) For the first time in his NAFW Career, Tyrone Smith will be in Chain Reaction!
Tyrone bails from the ring and up the ramp as “Riot” by Three Days Grace cuts away to “Lip Gloss and Black” by Atreyu. Cunning, meanwhile, has begin tearing apart the ringside area, knocking Troy Gilmore to the floor and tossing chairs around. He picks up the steel steps and tosses them at the announce table, sending JB and Bear scattering for safety.
With one, lasting shot of Cunning on his knees, screaming and tearing at his hair, we cut.
Go Home
Backstage again. We've been here once this evening. It's the security post where our new friend Tony has been stationed. Tony is sitting behind his station's desk, flipping through papers. The door he's guarding opens, and he frowns.
Frowning is not usually the reaction one gives when this particular individual walks in, since he's a pretty cool guy, and is often giving out candy. But tonight, our man Tony doesn't want to see Spaz, so he frowns.
(Tony) I was hoping you weren't coming tonight.
Spaz raises an eyebrow in confusion.
(Spaz) Well, hello to you too, pal! Why don't you want me here?
Tony sighs.
(Tony) Because I have to give you a message that you're not going to like... I hate bearing bad news.
Spaz's confusion grows some at this statement.
(Spaz) And what is that message?
Tony reaches into his pocket, and pulls out the piece of paper he got from Brian McJohnson (who was pretending to be Earl at the time). He hands it to Spaz as he speaks.
(Tony) I'm to refuse you entry to the building tonight, and give you this note.
Spaz reads it.
(Spaz) You're kidding me. Buchanan wants me to take two weeks off so I won't get hurt any further and ruin Chain Reaction? He can't risk his Pay Per View? I'm not even booked tonight! How am I going to get hurt sitting in a locker room?
Tony shrugs.
(Tony) Couldn't tell you. I'm just the messenger.
(Spaz) Well, I think I'll just go talk to the source, then!
Spaz makes a move to go into the building proper. In a flash, Tony is up and blocking Spaz. Any other day, Spaz may have been able to make it past, but tonight he's been limping a bit, thanks to the attack he suffered at the hands of the Thomas Brothers (more specifically the bat weilded by Dustin) last week.
(Tony) I was afraid you'd say that. I can't let you go. Orders.
Spaz is visibly frustrated, but isn't the type to attempt assault on security guys.
(Spaz) Then can you get me McJohnson?
Tony shakes his head.
(Tony) I'm sorry. Mister McJohnson is busy. Besides, my orders came from him, and he doesn't take kindly to being questioned. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I really hope you won't make me use force.
Spaz sighs.
(Spaz) Fine. I'll go.
Tony nods, relieved. He follows Spaz out to the door and makes sure it closes behind the Sugar Junky. Cut.
(JB) This still doesn't seem right to me, Bear! That message came from Brian McJohnson, and I don't trust the kid as far as I can throw him!
(Tom) That kid's huge, Mann-at-arms! And you're a weakling. You probably couldn't even pick him up, let alone throw him!
(JB) My point exactly
(Tom) Oh.
Devastating Demons
We open in the locker room of the reigning Foundation Heavyweight Champion who's currently sitting in a chair, staring down at his championship in his wrestling attire. He has already been approached by Aleister Essex who wants to manage him, he's still got Vanessa trying to get back at him and he has not just Heatwave looking to end his career, but five other men at Chain Reaction looking to take his championship from him. Normally, Aarons is relishing this type of challenge and is looking forward to getting in the ring and squashing the championship aspirations of his foes. But ever since he stood face to face with Heatwave at the end of Redemption, he has had to come face to face with demons he thought he had long since left in the past.
He hasn't taken Vanessa back, because he's not trying to be what she wants him to be. He likes hearing the cheers of the crowd everytime his music hits and he rises from the fog filled entrance. He likes hearing people chant his name everytime he speaks or whenever he drops someone with his finisher. Up until Redemption, he had done away with his past transgressions and made peace with his actions. All the things he did to get to the top and the lengths he went to stay there, all in the past. All went up with the single flick of a Zippo. Heatwave has everyone all but convinced that Aarons isn't who he has been since returning to the NAFW late last year and Aarons knows he's right. But Aarons sits unable to dig down deep enough to take the fight to Heatwave the way he's deserving. Aarons normally would've put Heatwave down on sight the second he found out who lit him on fire. Heatwave would've left the ring at Redemption in a bloody heap and if lucky, strapped to a stretcher instead of in a bag. But Aarons let him walk and as a result, his life and career have not been the same since.
He sits a totally different man than we saw at Redemption prior to his title match against Stryker. He's not the same man that worked the NYC crowd into a frenzy against him, not the same man that took pleasure in breaking their hometown hero down before their very eyes, he's in a state of emotional flux right now. He's stuck between being what he has been, which may all but assuredly ensure Chain Reaction is his swan song or returning to what he was and what Heatwave has sworn vengeance against...which would all but assuredly give Aarons the edge he needs to walk out of Chain Reaction the way he walked in. His cousin hasn't really been around much since the end of Three Wishes and with him being a happily married man, he hasn't felt like asking his cousin to watch his back even though now would be as great a time as any to have the extra protection. As he stares harder into the faceplate of the belt, he sees an image stare back at him that's not himself but something much much darker. That image is that of him, three years ago propping Heatwave's wife up on top of the turnbuckle with Heatwave beaten down and subdued by two others. He sees himself stuffing Nicole between his legs and jumping down, dropping her head first onto the barb wire portion of Lendo which was sandwiched in between a black steel chair. That incident was the prelude to Aarons dropping Heatwave with three of the exact same move as he went on to become the reigning Axiom Heavyweight Champion. It was on the night that he beat Heatwave that he had the epiphany that caused him to what some would say, breakdown to such a point where he didn't successfully defend his title at the very last Axiom PPV called Anarchy. He sees himself getting beatdown by five others prior to going out to the ring to face Damon Hayes and then sees himself dragging his beaten self out towards the ring, where he was dispatched fairly easily. He went under after that for many months, to sort stuff out. Even after being called out a few months later, he clearly wasn't himself and clearly wasn't ready for a return to the ring. Yet, it's the image of him being beaten down by five men that causes him to drop his belt on the ground as the metal clink snaps him out of his funk.
Just in time to see Vanessa standing in his doorway with a rather concerned look on her face. She looks back and sees the very same look on Leonard's face, only it's one of indecisiveness. The very same one she saw just before he went out to defend his United States Championship days after RAGE! when he lost to Mike Castleberry. Aarons gathers his belt and things, heading out of his dressing room and he simply walks by Vanessa without so much as giving her a second glance or even trying to move her out of the way. As he walks off with a solemn expression on his face, she sneers before saying in a rather loud fashion...
(Vanessa) You know in your heart I'm right! You're an ex-champ walking and you can't even stand the sight of yourself!
Aarons surprisingly enough doesn't even stop to look back or even stop in general, he just keeps heading to the exit.
(Vanessa) Essex won't help you, because you can't help yourself! You know what you need to do!
He fades from sight as she shakes her head from side to side in disgust.
Retaliation
Cut.
We're in the back, roaming the always indistinguishable white hallways along with Scott Rocker. Though the Bastion of Bad Ass is dressed in his ring gear, he appears to have just arrived. He moves through the halls quickly, with a focus rarely seen from him. From time to time he smiles, the way people smile when they've done something truly ingenious.
After a while he comes to a locker room, which he enters. Once he's inside, he promptly drops his bags. He doesn't move. He is stunned.
What once was a locker room has now become a shrine to all that someone like Rocker would hate. On all sides of him, on every locker in the room there are posters, some saying "Disco Rox! Zepplin is Gay!," some simply showing a half-naked John Travolta doing a Disco pose. Hanging from the ceiling are several posters, each one with a still shot of Rocker falling at the craft services table last week. Also hanging from the rafters, set in the middle of the room is a giant, paper mache recreation of a naked male ass. The ass gives off light, as if it was built around a lamp.
This is a reference to Troy calling Rocker a moonlighter.
Rocker takes several steps forward, stunned. Once he's cleared the door it shuts and locks. Rocker turns back and runs to the door. He cannot open it.
But worse than that it that the door triggered a soundtrack. Something far more infuriating than the rest of the room.
Nickleback. A chorus. Played on a loop.
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Cut.
Arcane Mystery.
Weird Romance.
Strange Horror.
Welcome to Town.
WORMWOOD.
It's Time to Celebrate!
POP!
That's the sound of a champagne cork popping as a party is commencing. You want to know what the party is all about? Well, if you watched the show a few minutes before, you would know!
Tyrone Smith, for the first time ever, has a chance to win the Foundation Heavyweight championship!
Tyrone shocked the world as he surprised Trevor Cunning with a rollup, albeit interference from The Goods, but he won the match and made it to the big time.
Tyrone Smith has broken the glass ceiling and is in the spotlight.
Now, he has a chance to achieve his dream to become Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
(Cassie) You did it, baby! You finally are going to be in the Main Event! You finally have a chance to win it all.
(Tyrone) Yes, it is all thanks to Trevor.
Tyrone takes a sip of his champagne and watches Cassie go and run after Shayla, while people are talking and laughing and cheering in the background.
(Tyrone) I would like to thank You Trevor. I would like to thank you for making the match a Chain Reaction Qualifying match. That was one brutal match for the both of us, and I'm sorry that the match had to end the way it did, but I could not pass up on the opportunity, even with interference, to win the match and get one step closer to my dream and destiny. Now I have a chance to win the big prize: The Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
Tyrone takes another sip of his champagne and looks around at the cheering people. His daughter comes up and he picks her up and smiles.
(Tyrone) She can always make me smile. But, now that I am in the Chain Reaction Match, everyone else better be on notice. Spaz, Mike Stryker... and YOU Reaper. And anyone else that qualifies for Chain Reaction. I may be the underdog of this match; hell I've never even had a shot at the title before, but do not expect me to just flop and die. Expect me to give it my all and don’t' expect me to give up until I have the Championship around my waist.
My name is Tyrone Smith, and I will be the next Foundation Heavyweight Champion!
Tyrone goes back to the party and joins his friends and family as this portion of the NAFW comes to a close.
Thanks That Was Fun
We're backstage, where Brian McJohnson is standing in a locker room. He is looking at someone, and seems to be in a good mood.
(Brian) I did what you wanted. Spaz was kept out of the arena. Now pay up.
He gets shoved back slightly by a heavily muscled arm, and Shane Thomas steps into view.
(Shane) Damn right you did what we wanted!
On the other side of McJohnson, Dustin appears, and pats the portly one on the arm.
(Dustin) Maybe you should be nice, or we won't pay up.
A larger form walks into frame, that of Mike Lane. He shakes his head at his two partners in crime, and looks at Brian in the eye.
(Lane) My associates can be a bit trigger happy sometimes, McJohnson. Let me assure you that we will be paying you in full for your services rendered.
He reaches into his inner jacket pocket, and pulls out a single card. He hands it to McJohnson, who stares down at it in disbelief.
(Brian) What gives? This is just a picture of you with "2007 Chain Reaction Winner" underneath it.
Lane gets up in McJohnson's face.
(Lane) That card just happens to be a limited edition collectors item. You'd better get your trading shoes on, cause that puppy will sell for a large amount of money on eBay once I win Chain Reaction. You'll be the first to have one, and all the little Imperials out there will want the official trading card of their hero, celebrating his supreme victory.
As soon as the words "trading shoes" left Lane's mouth, both the Thomas Brothers lowered their heads, and walked away.
(Lane) Now get out of here, before you decrease it's value with your greasy hands.
McJohnson shakes his head, and leaves the room. Dustin and Shane come up on either side of Lane.
(Shane) Trading shoes?
(Dustin) Little Imperials?
Lane looks at both of them with a look of disgust.
(Lane) It's called marketing, dunderheads. It's why I make millions off t-shirts, and you guys still get called Super Thomas Brothers. Now make sure McJohnson gets slipped a Jackson later. We don't want to lose his services.
He walks away, with the Thomas Brothers still feeling the burn.
KRYSTIAN....
AT LAST YOU ARE ON YOUR OWNNNN
Rebirthing by Skillet hits the PA, which signals the entry of none other than Krystian to the ring. The NAFW's latest savior, hailing from Corpus Christi, Texas, steps out onto the stage to a mixed reaction. After all, the guy hasn't done anything to hurt you, but at the same time, he's a bit self righteous in telling you that the product you watch each week is unclean.
Anyway, he makes his way down to the ring, wipes his boots before entering, then genuflects in the middle of the ring while making the sign of the cross. He takes a large golden cross off from around his neck and hands it to the referee to temporarily place aside.
(Tom) Did you catch a load of that bling JB?
(JB) I'm not sure that's why Krystian here is wearing it Tom.
(Tom) Bling bling dolla dolla! He should be the next Trust Fund Kid!
(JB) Right...
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 doesn't have Wilson under his right arm due to the "injury" Wilson suffered in the Snakes on a Cage match. Snake starts to make his way down the ramp and when the first verse comes to an end, Snake throws his hands up above his head allowing two large green fireworks to go off behind him. Snake then makes his way to the ring, hissing at some random fans before climbing into the ring.
(JB) Krystian, like many others, had some harsh words for Snake earlier this week due to Wilson being a former Atlantic Champion.
(Tom) Well, Snake doesn't have Wilson due to that re-aggravated injury caused by a snake on a cage.
Snake vs. Krystian
The referee signals for the bell, and these two light weight masked grapplers circle up. Krystian shoots in and takes Snake to his back, jumping into an open guard. He throws some lefts and rights at Snake's face before snapping around into a heel lock. Snake quickly rolls out of it and kicks Krystian off. Snake ties up Krystian when they're both back on their feet and goes for a behind grapple. Krystian reverses it and Snake reverses that into a wrist lock. He wrenches the arm of Krystian then delivers a jumping knee into the ribs on the same side, followed up by a DDT. Snake covers, but only gets a two.
Both men back on their feet, and Krystian Irish whips Snake into the corner. Krystian charges at him with a flying drop kick but Snake slithers down to the mat, causing Krystian to hang himself in a tree of woe. Snake rolls over to Krystian's head and applies a triangle choke variation to the hung up Krystian. The referee begins a 5 count and Snake reluctantly releases on 5, barely avoiding getting DQed. Krystian collapses out of the tree of woe and grabs his throat. Snake pulls him away from the ropes and covers him. The referee is reluctant to count but slides down in fairness. Uno, dos, kick out. Snake is up on his feet and argues the count. Krystian slowly pulls himself up to his feet and sneaks up behind Snake. He surprises Snake with a German suplex, and holds on for a second. He releases the hold and immediately springs to his feet, runs to the nearest ropes, and completes a second rope Asai moonsault. He hangs on for the cover on this combo of moves, but Snake kicks out at two and a half.
Krystian grabs Snake up by the mask but Snake responds by eye gouging Krystian through his mask. Krystian stumbles back and Snake ignores the referee's warning, instead choosing to bounce off the ropes and hit a flying forearm to Krystian's face while yelling "WILSONNNNN!" Krystian is forced into the ropes and on his bounce back he drills Snake with a clothesline to the mat. Snake is up and attempts a clothesline of his own but Krystian quickly ducks and turns it into a full nelson drop. The religious superstar climbs ascends to the top rope and flies for the Leap Of Faith, a Phoenix 720 splash, which connects - but barely. He hangs on for the cover and gets the pin fall.
Instead of letting the ref raise his hand walks to the side of the ring and demands a microphone.
(Krystian) I told you I Am He who would walk into the ring and strike you down onto your back.
Snake begins to rise to his feet.
(Krystian) I told you I'd watch as you slither away on your belly in defeat.
Now Snake stands face to face with Krystian.
(Krystian) I Am He who is destined...
And Snake has about enough of that. He slaps the microphone out of Krystian's hand, kicks him in the gut, and in one fell swoop, drops him with the Venom Sting, a inverted spinning neckbreaker, before walking off, still yammering something about WILSONNNN.
(Tom) And Snake has had enough preaching for one night!
(JB) It looks like Snake is not recoiling in Krystian's Garden of Eden.
(Tom) Did you really just call the ring the "Garden of Eden?" You fruit.
Unfinished
Backstage once again. Outside of a room that we were inside earlier... The Goods name appears on a sign next to the door. Standing outside, with a cellular phone to his ear is Slush.
(Slush) Seriously? That's a load of bull if I've ever heard one! Why not kick the damn Thomas Brothers out instead of you?
That last sentence makes it clear that Slush is speaking with Spaz, who was barred from the arena earlier tonight, under somewhat dubious circumstances.
(Slush) Buchanan's not taking any calls? Well, I'll just have to go talk to him myself! Later, man.
Slush flips his phone closed and begins to put it into his pocket, when a chair flies into the frame. Slush didn't see it coming and it nails him across the back, putting him to the ground. Slush thus also didn't see the bottle of Jack Daniels that followed the chair, shattering across the back of his head.
(Tom) Take that!
(JB) What a vicious sneak attack!
This is where you'd expect to pan out and see Trevor Cunning standing over his victim, but there is no pan. The focus is entirely on Slush's body lying in a pool of JD, with chunks of glass throughout and several streams of fresh blood mixing into the pool.
Behind Slush the door to the locker room opens, allowing Twitch and Ammo to rush out.
(Twitch) Flush!
Ammo goes directly to his partner, while Twitch takes off to summon medical assistance. Ammo doesn't need to look around the hall to see who did this. All he needs is to see and smell the spreading pool of Jack. As is often the case, Ammo sums up his conclusion in one word.
(Ammo) Cunning.
Ammo pulls Slush up, and carries his partner back into the locker room to await medical. Meanwhile, we cut back to ringside.
(Tom) I have only this to say: We all know what happens when you assume!
(JB) What?
(Tom) Ammo! He's assuming it was Cunning!
(JB) Who else? Between the chair flying into the frame and a bottle of Jack Daniels, not to mention last week's attack on Ammo, it seems pretty obvious that Cunning was behind this!
(Tom) Purely circumstantial evidence. Everybody assumed that Mike Stryker lit Aarons on fire because of circumstantial evidence and look how that turned out!
(JB) You also assumed it was Stryker, Bear.
(Tom) I don't recall that.
(JB) "Big City Pyromaniac" doesn't ring a bell?
(Tom) Nope!
(JB) Well, I don't see why anyone would frame Trevor Cunning for this assault, Bear, so until I see another possibility, Cunning has to be the prime suspect.
(Tom) Whatev.
The Answer
Fade in to a suite backstage at the Conseco Fieldhouse. It's got off-white carpeting, plush leather lounge chairs, and fake plants and trees providing interior decoration in the background. In a chair on the right is NAFW interviewer John Mills who has been granted this exclusive interview. On the chair to the left is the interviewee: "The Difference Maker" Keith Owens. Despite competing in the main event match later in the evening, Owens has not changed into his ring gear quite yet. He is still in the clothes he wore to the arena, namely, a black pair of slacks and a tan button down collared shirt. Owens' Tag Team Championship belt sits on a glass coffee table positioned between the two men.
(John) Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sitting here with the one and only Keith Owens. Keith, I'd like to thank you for joining me tonight for this exclusive interview.
The crowd gives a mixed response in the background, and Keith doesn't even answer John Mills with a response, he merely just nods his head.
(John) Before we begin, may I inquire about the condition of Melissa Hayes?
The mere mention of her name seems to visibly upset Keith, but he manages to keep his composure.
(Keith) Her status is still the same John. She's still in a coma and being cared for at a hospital on the east coast. She's in stable condition, but the doctors have absolutely no idea when or if she'll ever come out of the coma.
(John) I'm sorry to hear that Keith.
There's no response from the Difference Maker.
(John) I won't waste your time here, Keith. There's only one question on everybody's mind. Why did you of all people save Mike Stryker from being lit on fire by Heatwave last week?
Keith takes a moment before answering.
(Keith) You know John, I wish there was an easy answer to that. Let me take you back a few weeks to Redemption where I faced Hush in a Buried Alive match. For the first time ever, I actually felt powerless. No matter what I did to that monster, it didn't faze him. I honestly thought that during that match, my career and my life could very well be over. For the first time in a very long time, I felt fear.
Once again Keith pauses before continuing.
(Keith) As I'm sure you saw John, a few days ago I had some words for my opponent on TheNAFW.Com. When I was telling Heatwave exactly what I thought of him and our match, I mentioned I've done whatever it takes to be successful here, and that's come at a heavy price for several other people I've been friends and enemies with. I've put a lot of people through a lot of pain, but one particular instance always stood out to me when I never thought it was even worth mentioning.
(John) And that was?
(Keith) Three years ago I fought Mike Stryker in a Human Torch match. I was a rookie and in the midst of my record setting string of X-Treme title defenses. I won the match and went on with my career. Later on, myself and Stryker would meet again in the ring. Stryker told me he was upset that I never bothered to check on him in the hospital after I casually set him on fire on that episode of Annihilation X-Treme. At the time, I didn't care. Why should I have? It was just a match were were booked in. It was nothing personal. But I took Stryker to the limits and I physically set him on fire, beginning a string of incidents that would bring the fire element between him and Trevor Cunning, to Leonard Aarons, and then last week to Heatwave.
John Mills cuts him off to ask another question.
(John) So bring me back to how this relates to your experience against Hush.
(Keith) Facing Hush made me realize I've done a lot of bad things to a lot of people, and it made me realize that I'm not invincible or immune to these things either. So last week when I was watching on the monitor in the back and saw the match between Heatwave and Stryker unfold, I couldn't help but think about what Stryker said to me a few years ago. The man was about to be royally screwed, so I made a decision to do something. I cleared Heatwave from the ring and stopped Stryker from going up in flames. Out of all the things I've done to people, not showing Stryker the courtesy to check on him after our match a few years back is probably the least horrendous thing I've done. But I've got to start somewhere John. When another opportunity presented itself, I acted to square that past incident away between me and the Hitman.
(John) But Keith, at the end of your message to Heatwave, you had almost a threatening tone saying you'll do whatever it takes to win your match tonight. Does this mean your stance as changed?
(Keith) Of course not John. I'm in it to win it. We've all got our own demons to fight, one day at a time. Tonight, I'm going to go out there and do what I do best...
(John) ...Whatever it takes to win?
Cue a slight pause from Owens.
(Keith) I'll let you be the judge of that one, John.
And with that, the Difference Maker rises out of his chair, grabs his title belt, and exits the scene.
(John) Back to you two at ringside.
(JB) Thanks John. That was most certainly a different side to the Difference Maker.
(Tom) Yeah, it was totally gay. Who the hell wants to square things away with Mike Stryker?
(JB) Someone who has seen their life flash before their eyes.
(Tom) Well, seeing your mother naked will do that to someone.
Jimmy the Greek.
Marv Albert.
Bill Simmons
Mike Hulse?
Handicapped Spaces: Football With a Pulse
Only at InsidePulse.com!
(JB) Welcome back to Annihilation, fans! We’ve got some tag team action for you next!
(Tom) Speaking of tag team action, how’s your mother, Mann-Hole?
(JB) When will you realize that you’re as funny as a chemical burn?
(Tom) Please… I’m friggin’ hilarious!
(JB) Would you stop that?
(Tom) That’s not what she said. She, being your whore of a mother.
(JB) One of these nights, I’m going to poison you.
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.
(Tom) Slush doesn’t look so good.
(JB) Trevor Cunning hit him in the back of the head with a bottle of Jack Daniels.
(Tom) Please. There’s no evidence.
(JB) What’s the first thing you think of when you think of Jack Daniels?
(Tom) Well, it involves your mother, and if I keep going – a butt load of FCC violations.
(JB) Go away.
(Tom) Think about it, Mann-Wagon.
(JB) Why would I do that?
(Tom) I’m talking about The Goods, Mann-Wheel. They screwed OSE last week – OSE could’ve taken Slush out in retaliation.
(JB) Wow. The Goods have a lot of enemies.
(Tom) As many enemies as your mom has sexual partners.
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 first, 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, also dressed in full ring gear. He walks out this week, slowly, hiding something behind Ken, until he can’t any longer. When this moment comes we see a pillow case dangling from Troy’s left hand. He steps in front of Ken, and raises the case up high.
Nicole appears. She’s in black leather pants and a sleeveless green shirt this week.
Once Nicole is on the stage Troy takes off running, careful to move as dorkily as possible. When he hits the ring he jumps and slides in head first. When he stands he opens the pillow case, reaches in, and start throwing the contents—a bunch of Three Musketeers bars with “Sexier than Spaz” in place of the usual labels—into the crowd. Several seconds later, Ken joins Troy in the ring.
(Tom) So is Clark actually taking this match seriously or is he going to just stand on the apron, wiggling his hips like that?
(JB) Since when do you care about in ring competition?
(Tom) I don’t, really. I just find his gyrations oddly erotic. I want them to stop.
(JB) Wow.
(Tom) I can’t look away.
The Goods (Slush & Ammo) vs. Ken Harris & Troy Clark
Ammo and Harris begin. Ammo catches Ken in a lockup and quickly throws him into a turnbuckle across the ring. Ken takes the bump and comes out charging, ducks a clothesline, bounces off the ropes, and dropkicks Ammo’s knee. Both men rise, smiling the way guys do when they’re impressed. A second lock up turns into a Ken Harris side headlock. Ammo pushes off, sending Ken into the ropes. Troy makes a blind tag as Harris continues running. Ammo hits the mat to let Ken run on top, giving Troy the opportunity to drop an elbow on the small of his back. Ken follows up with a leg drop to the back of the neck, and Troy follows with a hip swivel and a knee drop to the spine. He rolls Ammo over, but the big man powers out at one.
Troy slaps on a reverse chin lock, flexing his bicep as he squeezes. Ammo simply sits up, Troy on his back, and falls back into his corner. He tags in Slush. Slush climbs to the top rope and hurricanranas Troy off of Ammo’s shoulders. He dives on top, but Ken breaks up the pin at two. Slush hits a standing leg drop on Troy, then puts on a rear chin lock of his own. Now it’s Troy’s turn to show some power, as he lifts Slush up and hits a side slam. Troy bounces off the ropes, and hits a huge standing splash, covering Slush for two.
Troy pulls Slush to his feet, and initiates a lock up. Slush breaks it with an elbow and backs Troy up to the ropes. Slush tries and Irish whip but Troy reverses it into a powerslam. While Slush is down Troy flexes his arms, posing ala Hogan post match. Neither Slush, nor Ken are amused. Slush backs into the corner and tags Ammo back in.
Troy and Ammo lock up, and Troy backs Ammo into the ropes. He feigns a clean break, moves to throw a right, but Ammo ducks, boots Troy in the gut, and irish-whips him across the ring. Double leg tackle, and Ammo moves into the Crossfire. Ken boots Ammo off. Slush enters the ring to defend his partner and pushes Ken back into the corner.
(JB) This is one hell of a match!
(Tom) And it’s about to get even better!
Before Ammo can return to his assault on Troy Clark – Trevor Cunning pops out of the crowd, bottle of Jack Daniels in each hand. He slides under the bottom rope and smashes one bottle on the back of Ammo’s skull, sending the big man to the mat, hard.
Richie Howards calls for the bell.
Cunning begins moving towards Slush, but before he can take a step, Twitch slides in the ring and jumps on Cunning’s back. Trevor flips Twitch forward onto his ass, raises the second bottle, but before he can swing – Slush takes Cunning down with a spinning heel kick.
With Clark back in the corner, watching the action - Harris rushes to help Slush with Cunning. The Godfather bails, rapidly, popping into the crowd and running to the back.
(JB) What a sneaky, miserable…
(Tom) Genius.
(JB) Genius? Are you kidding me?
(Tom) No, I’m not. Cunning got in, took Ammo down, and got out unscathed! It’s the perfect revenge!
(JB) So the Goods play some music – and they deserve to be beaten across the skull with glass bottles?
(Tom) Exactly.
(JB) Well folks – Harris and Clark have been disqualified for outside interference – so I guess the Goods continue on their winning streak.
(Tom) Ken Harris doesn’t look happy.
Harris is pacing back and forth. Twitch and Slush are checking on Ammo – while Troy continues to banter with the crowd. Slush extends a hand to Harris – who after a moment – accepts the handshake. Ammo climbs to his feet to applause as we cut to the back.
Call and Response
We cut backstage to where Mike Stryker is walking backstage. The Big City Hitman seems to be getting himself in gear for his match later on with Lorenzo Richards, shaking the kinks out of his head, arms, and the like. He pauses to do a few standing hops, to get the blood flowing, when he stops dead in his tracks. His nose twitches as he regards the man in front of him.
"You get my message?"
We pull back to reveal one Mike Lane standing in front of the Hitman. Lane is wearing a white suit, and has a grin on his face. Stryker merely nods in response to the question. If you don't remember the phone call from last week, you suck and should go read the segment last week...
...done?
Anyways, Lane places his hand on Stryker's shoulder, to a very cold glare. Mike ignores it, and takes a deep breath.
(Lane) I was hoping to talk to you before tonight, but I guess it was kind of out of the blue for me to ring you. Oh well, stuff happens, I'm sure you were busy. After all, you're big time now. Main eventing pay per views, and challenging for my Foundation Championship.
Raised eyebrow.
(Lane) But you got screwed over by that reject Heatwave... that was your title to win, and he took that away from you, and it would probably send me into a rage. Not that I would have let myself in that situation. Shane and Dustin would have had my back, and prevented Heatwave from getting involved. Imagine it, Mike...
He places his arm fully around Stryker, faces the same direction as him, and then gestures in the distance like a bad movie director.
(Lane) You and the Reaper fighting it out for the gold. You lock Reaper in the Cloverleaf! The crowd starts buzzing because some idiot is coming out. He's already told us that he's coming for Reaper, so everyone can sense the Big City Hitman getting screwed over. When out of damn nowhere...
BAM, Shadow Kick! WHAM, New School! SLAM, Alpha Maneuver!
Mr. Blackwave is left down and out. Reaper tries to hang out, but he finally has to tap out to the force of the Cloverleaf. And Mike Stryker... is the Foundation Champion!
Lane pulls away, and smiles at Stryker.
(Lane) Think about it, Mikey. Come back home. Come back to the fold, and join the Empire. You'll always have back up, and you know I won't betray you. I stood by you to the end, no matter what happened, and you stood by me. What do you say, my brother, will you join the Empire?
Stryker sneers, and meets Lane's gaze with a gaze of steel.
(Stryker) And what you leave out, is that after I win the Foundation title, is that you cash in your Wish and turn your back on me. Why should I join a man who wants the very same belt I'm going for?
Mike Lane nods in response to Stryker's challenge of a question. He grins once more though, and has apparently already come up with an answer.
(Lane) Have I ever turned on you before, Mike? When I took over the FLF from that idiot Welshman, you were my partner in crime. Tharodumbass wasn't anything, and none of the other losers in that group meant anything. Me and you against the world. We took on the Trust Fund Kids together, and I stood by your side. Do you remember the day when we both stood tall? I was the Foundation Champion and you were the Intercontinental Champion. We stood side by side as the best wrestlers in the NAFW.
You dominated that division for as long as you could, Strykes, and then you went on to make your bid for the Foundation Title. A very well deserved bid, to be sure. Our friendship has been forged in the fire of alliance and brotherhood, and I know that you won't turn your back on me. And you know that I would never turn on you. The honor and respect that exists among men like us, Mike, is one that can't be questioned. I know, just as you should know, that if one of us were to win the Foundation Championship, that we would just give a shot to the other person.
I can guarantee you a chance to stand tall without having to worry about sneak attacks. A chance to walk the hallways without having to worry about cliche-spouting guys with bad nicknames, and even stupider wenches following them around messing with your destiny of greatness. Our destiny of greatness.
The Hitman says nothing, but has dropped the steel resolve. He merely looks down, and the conflict is evident in his eyes.
(Lane) Stand beside me, friend... partner... brother. And we will never allow anyone to interfere in our business again.
He pats Stryker on the shoulder, and the Hitman meets his gaze.
(Lane) Don't worry about it right now. Take your time, and do what's best for you. Besides, have I ever led you astray?
Big huge Mike Lane grin (trademarked, and patent pending).
Lane walks away, leaving a now conflicted Mike Stryker to prepare for his match with Lorenzo Richards, things having now become much more complicated.
The EGO Will Land… Next Week.
We cut backstage to the office of Commissioner Buchanan, who is standing with Rick Priestly. The Commish is looking as stern as ever, his gray hair combed ever so perfectly. His dark gray suit is pressed and he's looking fit for business.
As the camera pulls back and widens the view of the area we can see a tiny table with a small stack of papers on it. At the top of the first page is the NAFW logo emblazoned in full, bright red as usual. Commissioner Buchanan places his fingers lightly on the top of the papers as he begins speaking.
(Buchanan) As many of you saw last week, Kyle Cole put his name in the hat for the annual Chain Reaction match.
The crowd, watching on the NAFWtron, pops at this mention of the Anti-Hero Superstar.
(Buchanan) However, due to a small speed bump, this is not currently possible.
BOOOOOO
The Commish remains undeterred.
(Buchanan) See, Kyle Cole is not currently contracted to be an active competitor here in the NAFW. He is still under a Legends contract, which limits him to public appearances on behalf of the NAFW. However...
More boos... Buchanan continues, speaking over the crowd a bit louder.
(Buchanan) HOWEVER, it is a speed bump that can be removed fairly easily.
Just then, Cole steps into frame and the crowd erupts. He sneers at the camera as he steps in towards the table. He smoothes his black hair, which is pulled tightly back into a ponytail. Dressed in an old-school black Inevitable End t-shirt and jeans, he looks more of the Kyle Cole of old than the suit and tie that he wore last week.
(Buchanan) What I have here...
He taps the papers on the table.
(Buchanan) Is a contract for Kyle Cole to once again become an active competitor in the NAFW.
Another pop.
(Buchanan) His previous contract will be voided, although the monetary agreement will remain the same, as per request by Mr. Cole. Also, this contract will enter Mr. Cole into a qualifier match which will take place NEXT WEEK here on Annihilation!
Cole nods in approval as he eyes the contract.
(Buchanan) With that being said... Mr. Cole, would you do the honors?
The Commish hands the Anti-Hero Superstar a golden pen and Cole steps up to the table, peeling back the first two pages. On the last page, he finds the "X" and signs his name on the bottom line. He stands up, and hands the pen back to Commissioner Buchanan, smirking all the while.
(Kyle Cole) Welcome to a new world. The days of mediocrity are over in this company. Accepting champions as stars just because they have no competition is over. THIS is the beginning of the End.
(JB) Kyle Cole? Next week?
(Tom) Someone call the AARP: next week we’ve got hips breaking left and right!
Cole shakes the Commissioner's hand as the camera fades out.
Weaksauce
Cut to the Trust Fund Kids locker room where Keith Owens is on a steel chair, lacing up his boots for his match in the main event against Heatwave. All is quiet until the locker room door violently swings open.
Enter Trevor Cunning - drunk, sweating, swearing, tired, and pissed off.
(Trevor) What the in the holy hell is going on with you man?
Keith looks up from lacing his boots.
(Keith) What are you talking about Trev? I'm in here minding my own business trying to get ready for my freakin' match later tonight.
(Trevor) Well maybe you should be paying a little more attention to what else is going on around you when you're not too busy giving John Mills interviews that make you look like a giant, sandy, swollen, weepy, little vagina.
That sophomoric insult gets Keith to step up out of his chair and confront his best friend face to face.
(Keith) What's your problem man?
(Trevor) My problem is this: the Goods humiliated us and ME last week then cost ME a spot in the Chain Reaction match against freaking CRAZY BOY. I've been after them all night, teaching them respect just like I was last week, and once again, you're no where to be found – crying and calling the hospital and checking on Melissa - except for when you’re helping out Mike FREAKIN STRYKER!
(Keith) So you’ve noticed - I've had a lot on my mind lately.
Trevor laughs at Keith's reply in total disbelief.
(Trevor) Like saving Mike Stryker's sorry ass because you suddenly felt a guilt trip three years and several burnings too late? Snap out of it Keith. You're not going to win your match tonight with an attitude like that, and we're sure as shit not going to keep our Tag Team Championships now that you've gone soft on me.
Keith begins to speak but Trevor cuts him off.
(Trevor) Shut it Keith. Trevor Cunning is going to make it real simple for you. You go out there and you beat down Heatwave and bring the fight you're capable of or...
(Keith) ...Or what?
Now the two friends are standing with less than half an inch between them.
(Trevor) Let's just hope we don't get to that point.
And with that, Cunning backs out of the locker room and into the hallway. The camera follows him.
Cunning takes about two steps before he stops and stares at the Thomas Brothers leaning against a wall right across from the locker room, laughing under their breaths and talking lightly to themselves as they clearly heard that whole fight through the walls. He gives them a glare from hell before continuing to walk away, and they hush up momentarily until Cunning is out of range.
(Dustin) Be on notice Shane-O… I think the Empire is about to capture some tag team gold.
His brother and partner in crime coyly smiles in agreement.
(Shane) Bingo.
Fade out.
(Tom) The Trust is folding! This can't be!
(JB) Keith seems to have a large ultimatum on his plate tonight from his friend and partner Trevor Cunning.
(Tom) But it looks like as the Trust crumbles, the Old School Empire will be there to pick up the pieces of tag team gold.
(JB) That might be what the Thomas Brothers think, but we'll have to see.
Every Flame Begins With But a Spark.
Slowly Consuming All Within Its Path.
Just As The Flames Were Beginning To Die Down…
Someone Threw Gasoline On The Mother (beep)-ing Fire!
The NAFW Proudly Presents: Chain Reaction
Will The Anti-Hero Super Star Make a Triumphant Return?
Will The Phoenix Rise From the Ashes?
Or Will The Candy Man Finally Get His Sweet Revenge?
Will The Mad Man From Miami Raise The Temperature?
Will the Big City Hit Man Capture The Target In His Sights: The Foundation Heavyweight Championship?
OR… Will They All Feel the Reaper’s Wrath?
The Desire To Become Foundation Heavyweight Champion Burns Deep Within Each Man.
Who Will Emerge From The Flames Unscathed?
Who Shall Be Consumed?
CHAIN REACTION – ONLY ON PAY-PER-VIEW!
The lights in the arena go out as the NAFWtron starts to flicker as we hear the sound of nails being sharpened as it coincides with the sound of massive footsteps as we see The Reaper striking his signature pose on the NAFWtron followed by Lorenzo in Japan throwing up his right arm with his first held high as we hear from the movie Stepfather...
"Daddy's home..."
This is quickly followed by...
"FEEL! MY! WRATH!"
"You Don't Know" by 50 Cent, Eminem, Lloyd Banks & Cashis blares over the arena's sound system as flashing gold and crimson lights flood the arena. Charlene Lassiter-Richards steps out first followed closely by her husband "Big Daddy" Lorenzo Richards. Richards gets a minimal reaction from the crowd due to hardly being by his cousin's side since Death Wish. In fact, Richards hasn't been seen since he got attacked backstage and locked in the trunk of a car. Maybe he's really good at holding his breath.
(JB) Here's "Big Daddy" Lorenzo Richards and his wife Charlene.
(Tom) And here's me yawning at him and undressing her with my eyes.
(JB) I just have one question: Where's the Foundation Heavyweight Champ?
(Tom) Maybe he thinks Richard's can hold his own out here against the Big City Hitman.
(JB) I suppose, but that's a big assumption to make...
The house lights go down as "Til I Collapse" by Eminem begins to play through the arena. As the song goes through it's dark intro, various scenes from NYC come across the NAFWTron.
YO LEFT, YO LEFT, YO LEFT RIGHT LEFT!!
As the line repeats and the dialouge of the song starts in the background, the scene changes to a simple panoramic of the NYC Skyline. When the drums kick in, lightning fills the sky with each beat, and through the cloud cover, the word "STRYKER" can be made out with each bolt of lightning.
When the song finally kicks in, The house lights come up, with a bright white light punctuating each clap in the songs beat. Mike Stryker comes out in his black sweatshirt, hood up, hair hanging down in front of his face. He marches out, and as the crowd gives a roar of approval, he raises his right fist over his head. He gives the crowd a quick look before he begins marching himself to the ring, oblivious to the cheers.
Stryker Rolls under the bottom rope and gets up on the opposite turnbuckles, again raising his fist as the crowd roars once more. He crosses the ring and repeats the action to another cheer. He dismounts fom the buckles and pulls off his sweatshirt, tossing it aside and pacing the ring, waiting for the match to begin.
(JB) And the "Big City Hitman" is ready to go.
(Tom) Yeah yeah yeah. Any time. Any place. What a trooper.
Lorenzo Richards vs. Mike Stryker
When you look at the stats for this match, one can see Stryker is clearly outsized. "Big Daddy" Adam Sandler comes in at 6'5" and 305 pounds while Stryker is only 6'2" and 226 pounds. It shouldn't be a problem for Strykes as he has taken on the likes of the Intruder, Hush, and Trevor Cunning's ego.
The bell rings and Richards wastes no time making a statement with a sudden rising clothesline that catches Stryker off guard. Richards waves Stryker back up and hits a second. He gets a burst of energy and drills Stryker with a big boot on his third strike.
On a side note, out of a possible 15 non-finisher moves listed on Lorenzo Richard's bio, 4 of them don't have some kind of special modified name. Should I choose to use any of these moves, they'll be referred to by their common names not involving Platinum or any other monikers. Now, back to the match.
Richards covers Reaper and gets a 1.5 count. Stryker got his shit rung, but its too early in the match to put this one away. Richards drags up Stryker but Stryker breaks it with a series of jab's to the stomach that work their way up to his face before Stryker Irish whips the bigger man. Richards comes back and Stryker drops him with a drop toe hold. Stryker follows this up with a jumping knee to the back of Richards. The Big Man rises (that's what I call getting an erection) and Stryker grapples him. He attempts a vertical suplex but Richards is too strong, and reverses it into a vertical suplex of his own. Stryker feels that one on his back as he gets onto his feet again using the ropes for support. Just as he does, Richards comes charging with another big boot. Consider it ducked, and consider "Big Daddy" having big pain on his testicular region as he gets hung up. Stryker gets behind him and reaches up, using the ropes as extra leverage, and drops Richards with essentially a German suplex near the corner.
Stryker wastes little time walking over him and snapping on an arm bar, but it only lasts for a few seconds as Lorenzo Richards was right by the ropes and grabs the bottom one. the referee tells Stryker to break the hold, and the Big City Hitman does after a generous three out of five count. Both men are up and Richards tries to shake the sting in his arm. Stryker circles Richards and tries to shoot low, grasping for the big man's legs. He manages to nab the hold he wants, but he can't level Richards onto his back. This allows Richards to pull Stryker up and nail a sit out powerbomb. Strykes rolls out of it and under the bottom rope to buy himself some time and avoid a pinning predicament.
While Stryker is on the outside, Mike Lane decides to casually stroll down the ramp. Stryker notices this and half way down the ramp he yells at Lane to stay where he is because that's far enough. But while Lane is distracting Stryker, Richards is out of the ring as well and hits the former champion from behind. Stryker turns his attention from Lane and the two begin brawling as the referee is demanding they return to the ring. Richards slams Stryker's head into the ring post, but won't roll him to the inside. The referee is up to a six count. The two get back to exchanging punches, and surprisingly, Stryker reverses an Irish whip from Lorenzo Richards, sending Big Daddy tumbling into the steel steps. The referee is almost at ten, so Stryer rolls himself under the bottom rope and then back out, forcing the referee to restart his count. Mike Stryker doesn't stay on the outside for long as he quickly rolls Richards back under the bottom rope. He pulls himself back into the ring and covers Richards. Lane begins to walk closer to the ring. 1... 2... and a shoulder up.
Stryker doesn't notice what the other Mike is up to as he stomps the legs of Richards following the attempted pin fall. The two continue to tango until Richards somehow plants Stryker with a DDT. It's a Christmas miracle. He drags Stryker up to his feet and hoists him onto his back in a fireman's carry, clearly looking to hit The Big Finish, a fireman's carry into an ace crusher. He turns with Stryker on his shoulders and sees Lane has gotten onto the apron. This causes some concern for Richards and he immediately barks at Lane. The referee immediately tries to send Lane off, and Lane complies, which is quite unusual. Oh, wait, maybe that's because with that minimal distraction Stryker wiggled out of the fireman's carry and countered it with a neck breaker. This allows him to maneuver into the New York Cloverleaf. Stryker holds it for several seconds, but Richards gives in and taps out. Stryker holds it for an extra four seconds after the bell and gets admonished by the referee. In the UFC, that gets you fired.
Lane has already begun to back up the ramp with Stryker following and pointing at him, perhaps not all too pleased about that assist of a distraction.
(JB) The Big City Hitman racks up a solid victory, but did he really need that help from Lane?
(Tom) Hey, at least Lane didn't attack him. I'd say Mr. Old School Hollywood has good intentions.
(JB) Right Tom, like I'd believe that for two seconds.
Meanwhile, Charlene as come into the ring to check on her man, and Heatwave has run in through the crowd. That's how you know this is going to be good.
Them Be‘s The Breaks, Kid
(JB) What the hell is Heatwave doing in the ring? He‘s got no reason to be out here right now!
(Tom) Are you kidding? Heatwave has a serious vendetta with Leonard Aarons…and you know what it doesn‘t end with Aarons, it extends to his family too!
Heatwave slides into the ring with a black chair in hand standing behind Lorenzo Richards and with a single hand he turns the bigger man around and with a swing that would make Ken Griffey Jr. blush, Heatwave connects the black steel chair to the large skull of Lorenzo who falls like a mighty redwood.
(JB) Good LORD! Did you hear that shot! I swear, Lorenzo is going to have a serious headache once he comes around from that chair shot!
Heatwave slides out of the ring, leaving the dented chair in the middle of the ring. He lifts up the apron of the ring, pulling out a long wooden table and slides it underneath the bottom rope of the ring as the crowd continues to boo loudly, shy of throwing cups and other debris in the ring like so many weeks before. Heatwave climbs into the ring and sets up the table in the middle of the ring as he bends over to pick up the rather incapacitated Lorenzo Richards.
(JB) What the hell is matter with this man? I swear, he won‘t be happy until he kills someone!
A loud crack echoes through the arena as the black chair is wielded by one Charlene Richards, but lacks the strength to actually prevent Heatwave from donning anymore damage. She is only successful in simply directing his rage onto her.
(Tom) Oh no, no, no, no…this is never going to be a good thing at all. Charlene is in the ring and has done nothing more but simply anger the Madman even more!
There are massive boos from the crowd as Heatwave smack the chair away from Charlene and stalks her as if he was a lion in the Sahara. With a quick kick in her gut, Charlene doubles over as Heatwave quickly steps forward, taking her head underneath his arm and planting her hard into the canvas with a DDT to the shock of the NAFW crowd and the broadcast team.
(JB) That son of a bitch! That’s a woman! He can’t do this…someone has to stop him!
Heatwave climbs to his feet as he looks over at the fallen Richard‘s family with a sadistic smile on his face. Reaching behind him, he pulls out a set of handcuffs as walks over Charlene‘s body towards Lorenzo. He grabs his large wrist placing on half of the cuff around his wrist and drags his body across the ring, sliding the metallic loop over the top rope tightly. He turns towards Charlene who isn‘t moving at all and drags the table towards a corner of the ring. Lorenzo is slow to come too but yet, as shakes out the cobwebs he glances up as Heatwave and Charlene. He tries to stand but instantly realizes he is unable to do so as He yanks on his wrists, rather wanting to break his own wrist to get to his wife.
(JB) Heatwave has shown that he can be a sick and twisted as anyone in the NAFW but this going to far…he‘s is going to kill this young lady is someone doesn‘t save her.
(Tom) I don’t think that Keith Owens is going to make this save this week and I don’t see Aarons coming out here tonight. And Lorenzo is going absolutely nuts in the corner trying to get to Charlene!
Heatwave grabs Charlene by the hair, pushing her towards the turnbuckle hard. HE using his strength to pick her up and sit her on the top turnbuckle facing the crowds. He looks over at the table and smiles as he nods his head slowly, he steps on the edge of the ring and climbs the turnbuckle from the outside as he balances himself and Charlene on the top ropes feeding into the turnbuckle as he places Charlene‘s head between his legs and hooks her arms up and behind her.
(Tom) Oh sweet Jesus in heaven…
Heatwave smiles and looks about the crowd as he heaves Charlene’s body up and jumps forward with Charlene’s face leading the way. The next few seconds are filled with flashbulbs and a unspeakable silence as Heatwave force and momentum drives Charlene’s face into the waiting table that is reduced to splinters as the sickening crunch fills the ears of the thousands that’s filled the arena tonight.
(JB) We need medical attention…and quick!
Heatwave is slowly to his feet as he looks down at the carnage he’s caused tonight. Charlene Richards lays motionless in a broken mess of blood, sweat, and wood. Heatwave just chuckles as he looks over at Lorenzo is nothing more but a caged animal as he reaches out for Heatwave, mouthing out curse words that aren’t for our younger children to hear. Heatwave looks over at him with that same smile and easily flips him the bird as he leaves the ring. He slowly starts to make his way up the ramp as rushing paramedics speed past him with a stretcher and backboard.
(JB) Get someone out here now!
The camera zooms in on Heatwave faces who is still smiling as he reaches up and wipes the sweat from his brow as the camera fades to the back
Unlikely Coverage?
Ladies and gentlemen, Mike Stryker.
Sitting before his locker room mirror, the Big City Hitman looks like hell, then again, his disposition isn't too out of whack given the string of events that's happened to him the past few weeks.
Tired yet thirsting for vengeance, the former Atlantic Champion heaves a deep sigh, and he collects his thoughts as well as his breath.
However, we're not here to see Mike Stryker sitting pretty, staring at himself in a mirror. Oh no, we're here to see what'll happen next to the Big City Hitman.
The answer arrives abruptly as a stern knock is heard from the exterior of the room.
Turning his head, neck and torso to the door, Stryker shakes his head negatively and mutters to himself,
(Stryker) What now?...
Before rising from his seat and approaching the door. As Mike does so, he sighs once more, before delivering a fair warning to the individual on the other side of the door.
(Stryker) Listen, this had better be-...
Stryker, his tongue tied up upon opening the door to his locker room, stares dumbstruck at the individual standing before him.
Yes... Michael? Important? Worth your time? Crucial?... Are any of these the word you're trying to look for.
Who am I kidding? You've never been one for vocabulary anyway, but I digress...
Aleister Essex stood confidently before his former bitter rival Mike Stryker, and began to confidently stride into the Big City Hitman's locker room before being apprehended by Stryker.
(Stryker) YOU-...
(Essex) No, it's Santa Claus.. You moronic OAF... OF COURSE IT'S ME!
Now, unhand-...
(Stryker) GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T SNAP YOU LIKE A TWIG.
(Essex) What? And leave you without a friend in the world? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you dismantled the one man who could look after your back.
Stryker emitted a hoarse laugh as he continued to suspend Essex in midair.
(Stryker) You're a fucking riot, Essex, trying to peg yourself as someone who would actually look after my back instead of drawing a big ol' bullseye on me for one of your cronies to attack me at...
I call bullshit, Essex. Besides, I've done pretty well looking after myself.
(Essex) Naturally. I'm sure any intelligent person with two fully functioning eyes would be inclined to agree with you after seeing what transpired at Redemption, Mike.
Don't be so naive, Michael. Any idiot with a chance of winning Chain Reaction this year will see the massive chink in your armor that Heatwave exposed at Madison Square Garden...
(Stryker) While you're at it, Aleister, why don't you tell me what this "chink" you're blabbering about is?
(Essex) Get your hands off of me and then we'll talk.
(Stryker) No.
(Essex) Fine... I see you really want to know.
Well, here it is, Michael; the simple fact is that one on one you can take virtually any man that steps between the ropes to oppose you. Any. Damn. Man. In. The. Biz.
But when it comes to being attacked on all sides?... You're more screwed than Michael Vick at a PETA meeting.
Stryker, most likely disgusted at the mere action of giving Essex's words a second though, relents and releases Essex from his grasp before moving in on Hush's former handler.
(Stryker) I get it, Essex, I get screwed over by outside distractions, a couple of yours come to mind, but for some strange reason I'm entertaining your thoughts just enough to keep me from rearranging your face right here and now.
The question I have for you is just what are you trying to get at? Don't deny it, Aleister, I fucking hate liars and you know as well as I do that you wouldn't be here if it weren't to get something from me.;
Essex, having straightened out his suit, looks up at Stryker sporting a toothy grin. Not a pretty thing when you take into account that Essex is British.
(Essex) The way I see it, I'm here to offer something to you, Mike. I'm here to offer you the chance to claim gold around your waist once again. I'm here to offer you a shot at immortality.
I'm here to help you win the Chain Reaction match.
By giving you eyes in the back of your head.
Stryker scratches his head slightly, confused by the nature of Essex's offer. Always the skeptic, the Big City Hitman replies;
(Stryker) You know what, Essex? You're right about outside interference. Be it Aarons, Heatwave, or even YOU, I have been screwed over by the involvement of others in my matches. Given the nature of the Chain Reaction match, it's all the more likely that I'll have to deal with 2, even 3 people in the ring at the same time as me.
The problem I have, Essex, is that I know you too damn well, and I know you have some kind of diabolical scheme cooked up... I just can't read it yet.
(Essex) I'm playing with my cards face up, Michael.
(Stryker) Yeah, and I don't know if the fact that you're acknowledging that scares me more than your offer, or not.
Either way, just get out... There's business I need to take care of.
Given the lack of affirmation in Stryker's voice, it's clear to see why Essex jumps at the opportunity to assume what's best for his own interests.
(Essex) Alright, Michael, I understand that you shall be taking my offer under advisement, and I shall await for your reply.
(Stryker) Yeah, like I would-...
But as Stryker turned back to give face to his reply, he found that Aleister Essex had fled the scene, leaving Stryker's locker room faster than you can say "presumed deal".
As he soaked in the realization that he was now finally alone again, Stryker shook his head and muttered;
(Stryker) I hate that guy.
fade.
What Did You Do?
Cut.
We're in a locker room, just like any other. In it Troy Clark is sitting on a bench, dressed in his ring gear, waiting for the cue to prepare for his match. Nicole is on his lap and they are whispering to each other. Nicole giggles. A lot. From time to time Troy gestures, like he's explaining something to her. She giggles.
After a moment the door opens and Ken enters. He too is dressed for his match, but has put on a white t-shirt in addition to his ring gear. He spots his partners and forces a smile.
(Ken) What's so funny?
Nicole stops giggling an look up, a brilliant smile on her face.
(Nicole) Hey Ken.
Just like that Ken's smile turns sincere. He's almost beaming.
(Nicole) Troy got Rocker for the dildo thing.
Ken's smile disappears.
(Ken) What?
(Nicole) He…uh..he…
Nicole starts giggling again, which makes Troy laugh. Ken stares at them.
(Ken) What did you do?
They keep laughing.
(Ken) What did you do?
(Troy) Let's just say I locked that midget in his own personal hell!
Troy sticks out his tongue, KISS style. Ken sighs and leaves the room to go find Rocker.
(Troy) He's just no fun at all is he?
Cut.
(Tom) How long is this show, anyway?
(JB) Two hours, like always.
(Tom) I feel like I’ve been here for six already.
(JB) God forbid you work more than two hours a week.
(Tom) Seriously. I’m a special boy, goddamnit!
(JB) You’re something all right.
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.
(Tom) I’m so conflicted, Mann-Wheel! On one hand, I love the Trust Fund Kids. But if Keith Owens continues his pussification, I might have to route for the Old School Empire to become our next Tag Team Champions!
(JB) Wow. Difficult choice. It’s like deciding which bully you want to punch you in the face in the school yard.
(Tom) And then you have Scott Rocker and Rex Michaels! The Ribald Regents of Rock and Roll!
(JB) The difficulties that come with actually having a tag division.
(Tom) I know.
The opening chords of AC/DC’s “For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)” quickly fade into the rousing chorus – Angus Young’s bad ass vocals giving way to one of the greatest men who have ever lived in the history of modern living.
Greater than Ghandhi.
More Hardcore than Harry S. Truman.
A Bigger Bad Ass than Jesus F’n Christ himself.
REX F’N MICHAELS!
Yes’m Sir… you bettah believe that the Sultan of Southern Hospitality, the Master of the Mason Dixon, Mister Rex Michaels has arrived. He steps out on to the stage, acoustic guitar in hand – clad in the most bitching pair of leather pants one has ever laid their eyes on.
Even if you never desired to wear a pair of leather pants, be it for style or comfort or just because you think leather pants make a man look a little gay – even you, sir… you will look at these pants, with the tassels and intricate etch work – and you sir, will wish you were wearing those pants.
To Mr. Michael’s right is the Queen of Cougars – his Mistress of Mayhem: G.N.R. Tonight she wears a leopard print mini-skirt – black fishnets, and a tank top with “Rex is The Sex” spelled on the front in rhinestones. He hair is more teased out than Lindsey Lohan after a handful of vicodin, exploding from her skull in a maelstrom of mousse and hairspray. If someone were to light a match next to her, she very well may go up in flames.
An intricate jam session takes place atop the stage, with fire and pyro exploding in such a gratuitous fashion – the NAFW accountants are weeping in angst. Even the most ostentatious wrestler on the rosters looks at this needless display and says: what a waste… but oh, so, Bad Ass.
(Tom) Where the hell is Rocker?
(JB) Ask Troy Clark.
(Tom) I’ll end that miserable monkey man! I want my Rocker!
(JB) Just minutes ago, you were ogling Clark’s abs.
(Tom) I’m easily hypnotized. I went to go see a hypnotist with your mom, and I ended up thinking I didn’t have fingers for like a week after!
Old School Empire (Shane & Dustin Thomas) vs. Rock 'n' Rex Express (Tonight… only Rex Michaels. Sad Face.)
Dustin offers to start with Rex. They lock up, and Dustin quickly ducks behind Michaels. He takes him down with a trip, floats over, and locks on a side headlock. Rex gets vertical, elbows out, and hits an inverted atomic drop. STO puts Dustin on his ass, clutching the back of his head. He tags in Shane.
Shane locks up with Rex and pushes him back to the corner. When Phil Redding asks for a clean break, Shane acts as if he’ll give one, before attempting a strike. Rex ducks out, Shane falls into the corner, and Rex begins peppering Shane with rights of his own. Dustin runs in, charging blind like a ninja in a bad movie, but Rex side steps, and Shane and Dustin collide.
Rex tosses Dustin outside, and then irish-whips Shane across the ring. Rebel Yell leads to a Yakuza kick in the corner. Shane stumbles out, Rex bounces of the ropes, hits a bulldog, and covers for two. Dustin enters, to Redding’s objection – and clips Rex’s knee from behind. GNR hops up on the apron to complain, giving The OSE the opportunity to hit stomps and knees to Rex’s chest. Dustin makes the tagging clap sound, and immediately goes to work on Rex. He hits a snap suplex and a standing moonsault for two.
He tags Shane back in. Dustin irish-whips Rex, ducks under on the return, allowing Shane to scoop him up into a spinebuster position. Shane spins, Dustin bounds off the ropes, and hits a lariat, adding to the force. This gets two.
A second quick tag, and Shane puts Rex into an electric chair position. Dustin hits the New School flipping neckbreaker off of Shane’s shoulders, and pulls Rex up at two. Alpha Class finishes.
(JB) Rex and Rocker don’t have much luck alone, do they?
(Tom) They’re a super group, Mann-Whole! Like the Beatles or Suprnova! Alone, their work sucks – but together, they’re unstoppable!
(JB) So…
(Tom) Unfortunately, they’re always alone, lately.
GNR enters to check on her man as OSE heads to the back, bragging. They get halfway up the ramp before they turn back and head to the ring. Shane locks Rex in the Alphalock while Dustin holds GNR by her hair, forcing her to watch his brother beat the hell out of her boyfriend. Before the carnage can continue – the crowd pops.
Ken Harris sprints to ringside, steel pipe in hand. He swings at Dustin, who’s halfway over the top rope by the time Harris hits ringside. The Alpha drops Rex and goes for Harris, who ducks a lariat, nails Shane in the gut, and tosses him over the top rope.
GNR dives on Rex as Ken stops to check on them – one eye always on the Thomas’
(JB) It looks like Rex found some backup, after all!
(Tom) Oh boy, Mann-Wheel! Ken Harris is going to pay for this one. Dearly.
Weird Apology At Night
The camera starts on a scene of a night sky, littered with stars. There's an eerie stillness to the darkness that causes those hairs on the back of your neck to bristle. Heed that subtle warning; your instincts are far from being wrong this time.
The camera pans to the moon, obscured by cloud cover but allowing enough pale moonlight through to wreak havok with your night vision. It's enough to make you question everything you think you see and wonder if there are things out there that you don't.
(???) Why did she leave?
The voice is standard electronic garble. The feeling it arouses is pure uneasiness.
(???) Didn't she know that I could fight back the darkness?
The camera pans in a downward motion, passing over what appear, at first glance, to be rowdy spirits but, upon closer look, are actually small flags tethered to the top of a rather large canvas tent. They flap and flutter in the breeze, yearning to be free of their bonds. As the wind rises, they snap and bite at the air with their furious anger.
(???) Because I can. I've done it before.
The camera continues down and then to the left, leaving behind the shadowy bigtop and capturing the flared nostrils and wild mane of a horse in its view. No sound, no movement. The glossiness of its ebony coat and the twisted pole jutting from its back let us see that it is part of a carousel. No brass ring or children's gleeful cheers here tonight, though.
(???) Now ... Now, there's no chance of that.
Instead the camera pans down further and the darkness itself seems to move.
(???) Behind the darkness, a world of pain and torment is all that awaits those who remain.
It isn't the night moving. It's a black wrestling boot.
(???) A world ... of Sorrow.
The camera catches a brief glimpse of a masked man in a metallic full body wrestling suit. He had been sitting on the base of the carousel, leaning against the horse, carressing it with his right hand. He springs swiftly to his feet and shuffles off to avoid being captured directly onscreen.
(???) I'm sorry.
Fade to black.
Freedom!
Cut.
We're in the back. Rex Michaels is walking back to his locker room, shaking his head and wondering where his partner is. He comes to the appropriate door and opens it.
Rocker runs out, past Michaels, and disappears. Michaels sighs and gives chase.
Friends or Enemies?
Cut backstage where Keith Owens is drinking from a water bottle. Mike Stryker, fresh off his victory over Lorenzo Richards due to some uncalled for help from Mike Lane, walks onto the scene. Owens immediately stops what he's doing and turns his attention to The Big City Hitman.
(Stryker) I saw your interview earlier. All I have to say is...
Owens' cuts him off.
(Keith) You know what, you don't have to say anything. I did what I did, and I squared away something that I felt like squaring away.
(Stryker) Right. And I'll admit not being set on fire is a lot better than going up in flames, but don't think I'm interested in being your friend or ally.
Keith gives a half-chuckle to that statement.
(Keith) That's fine. I wasn't trying to be your friend. In fact, I wasn't even looking for a "Thank you." But you're welcome. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a match coming up.
Cue a slight pause.
(Keith) I'll see you in Chain Reaction.
Just as Keith turns to walk away, he's blocked by a wall consisting of another two wrestlers: The Old. School. Empire.
(Dustin) You made the right decision here Mike. Why would you want to be this chump's friend?
His brother Shane nods his head in agreement.
(Dustin) After all, his own tag team partner and best friend thinks he's a little girl for the way he's been acting.
Now Shane chimes in.
(Shane) In fact, I think I'd rather be lit on fire than to be saved by Keith Owens.
Shane pushes Owens up against the wall with one hand while walking by him to approach Stryker.
(Shane) Watch your back out there tonight... Keith.
Dustin now passes by Keith as well and joins his brother closer to The Big City Hitman. Keith's anger level shoots up +7 HP.
(Dustin) Unlike being saved here by Keith, there's no shame in joining a winning team. As you can see, it's already yielded you positive results.
The two brothers begin to back away from both men now.
(Dustin) Consider Lane's offer carefully Mike. I'm sure we'll be hearing from you.
(Shane) And Keith… Consider yourself “On Notice.” See ya later.
And with that the two brothers slink off into the shadows of the corridor.
Stryker and Owens stare at each other, but not another word is spoken as the two each go separate ways with a touch of suspicion in the air.
Out.
Fight, Flight, or Just Let it Go
Cut.
We're in the back, in those hallways again. We're looking at a locker room, one of the many in this godforsaken arena. Ken Harris is standing next to the door, waiting. He's still dressed in his ring gear, still sweating from the match. In his right hand, the furthest from the door, he's got a two and half foot metal pipe.
On the locker room door there is a name plate, which reads "Cunning."
For a long time Ken simply stands, waiting. From time to time there's commotion, the sounds of someone moving around in the locker room. When they come Ken raises the pipe into attack position, where you'd want a weapon if you wanted to crush a man's windpipe.
Someone walks to the door. Ken readies himself again.
The noise passes. Ken lowers the pipe. His eyes move, looking at the weapon. A moment passes.
Ken walks away from the locker room and doesn't look back. When he comes to a turn he drops the pipe, the disappears.
Something’s Rotten in Kansas. And It Wants to Eat You.
And Not In The Good Way.
Dead: With Dick and Jane #1!
Comics with Brains… BRAINS!
Available only at WOWIO.com.
Trouble a' Brewin'
We come back up on the hallways, following Ken as me moves through the arena. He passes a number of locker rooms, several groups of people, and the catering table. He looks at none of them, which is no surprise. His mind is elsewhere.
He's thinking about Trevor Cunning, about how the frat boy ruined what should have been a good night. He wishes he'd stayed, sued the pipe, crippled that bitch. But he couldn't. Not now. Not with Cunning's best friend being who it is.
The Owens family disappeared Tyler Hyatt. Ken stood no chance.
Ken keeps walking, keeps ignoring his surroundings, until he comes to a storage area. There he spots Troy and Nicole, dressed in street clothes, waiting for him. He walks toward them, sulking.
Scott Rocker runs into the frame from the other side of the room. He charges at Troy, and leaps when he's close enough.
(Rocker) KIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLL YOOOOOOOUUUUUUU!
Troy pushes Nicole out of Rocker's path and takes the blow. The two men start rolling around, brawling, biting, kicking. Ken moves to break them up.
As Ken reaches the brawl, Rex Michaels runs in. they grab their respective partners, pulling them apart. But Rocker keeps surging, and Troy keeps coming. The struggle continues, as security beings to arrive.
We cut.
Evil Has A Voice!
John Mills stares into the camera with a thin sheet of sweat on his forehead. He holds the microphone to his face, his voice slightly shaken up by whatever unforeseen circumstances. With his free hand, he reaches up with a silk handkerchief, wiping the sweat brow him brow as he licks his lips slowly.
(John) Uh, guys…I have the pleasure to bring you yet -another- interview…with the Madman himself…Heatwave.
Heatwave smiles, stepping behind John, sliding his large arms around his shoulders, holding the much small John Mills against his large bulk. The boos from the arena are monstrous as Heatwave takes a moment to close his eyes and simply embrace and absorb all the genuine malice and hatred that the NAFW faithful has towards him. It seems to fuel him on as his smile seems to get bigger.
(Heatwave) John-boy! What‘s wrong man…you seem a little shaken up there, buddy? It seems like you just seen a ghost or something like that.
(John) Heatwave, it appears you might have just broken Charlene Richards' -neck- on live television and made her husband watch…only after a few weeks prior of setting his cousin on fire in the middle of the ring! Not to mention that if you just threaten half the production crew if you didn’t get on camera. Hell you threaten to set me on fire!
(Heatwave) Oh John…you didn’t believe me, did you? I like you too much to do something like that to you…besides, you’re my friend aren’t you? Come on now, there’s no need to be scared besides my beef isn’t with you…it’s with Leonard Aarons and everyone close to him…and unfortunately for Lorenzo and Charlene…they was just like Mike Stryker…collateral damage.
(John) So that gives you the right to break his ankle? What kind of message where you trying to send?
(Heatwave) I want Leonard Aarons…the Leonard Aarons -I- know…not this watered down version where the fans love him and will probably drink his bath water if you let him. I want the Leonard Aarons that wouldn’t piss on Vanessa even if she was fire…no pun intend. I want the Leonard Aarons that everyone hated…The True Reaper. The bastard that broke my ladies neck in the middle of the ring all those years ago. And I’m telling you…John Mills…the entire NAFW roster…Leonard Aarons…Vanessa…and anyone else who gets in the way, this will not end until I get what I want. I will continue to literally destroy anyone and everyone I have to until I get what I want…and it’ll start with Keith Owens. I will jump through whatever Buchanan wants to set in front of me. But I refuse to stop and this will not be over until I say it’s over.
(John) Do I dare ask when will that be?
(Heatwave) It will be when I leave Leonard Aarons in a pool of his own blood with Vanessa in a broken heap beside him. I’m going to take away what he took away from me…my livelihood. It’s -me-, bitches.
Heatwave looks over at John and lightly pats him on the cheek with his free hand as he smiles in his direction.
(Heatwave) See, John…I didn’t hurt you at all did I? I’m not as bad as people want to think…
John simply nodded his head lightly as he refused to make eye contact with Heatwave and just nodded his head.
(John) Yeah…sure, sure…back to you guys at ringside.
What Kind of Day Has it Been?
Cut
(Troy) I'm an bleephole? Me? That little turd almost got me bleeping arrested and you're-
(Ken) I don't give a bleep what he did! Do you not see what you're doing you stupid bleep? We can't bleeping do this!
(Nicole) Guys.
(Troy) Why thebleep not?
(Nicole) Guys!
(Ken) Because we're on pretty bleeping this ice you-
(Nicole) Ken!
We're outside another locker room. There is silence.
After a moment Ken emerges, shutting the door behind him. He's wearing jeans, but no shirt. He walks across the hall, leans against the wall, and sinks to the floor. We hear voices from inside the room, indistinct.
Ken puts his head against the wall and closes his eyes. We hear someone approach, and the camera turns. It's Rex Michaels.
(Rex) Kenny!
Ken looks up at Michaels, weary. For a moment he looks utterly pissed, like this is the last thing he wants but it passes. Rex doesn't notice.
(Ken) Rex.
(Rex) How ya'll doin?
(Ken) Long night. What's up?
(Rex) Y’all think y’all had a long night? Kenny, I cannot thank y’all more than a hooker thanks her john fer what y’all did fer me an’ my little G.N.R. tonight.
(Ken) Don't mention it.
Ken leans his head against the wall again, shutting his eyes.
(Rex) Nah man – t’wouldn’t be hoss-pit-able for me to go on ignorin’ all the stuff y’all gone done fer me and mine. How ‘bout this? Kenny, Little Nicky, Sexy Rexy and G.N.R. – we go get some beers and party like Zepplin’s gettin' back together!
Ken shakes his head.
(Ken) Thanks, but some other time.
(Rex) Y’all better believe it! You and me, Kenny – we’re gone be friends fer a long time!
Ken nods. Rex turns and walks away.
Cut.
Arcane Mystery.
Weird Romance.
Strange Horror.
Welcome to Town.
WORMWOOD.
(JB) Here we go, fans – Main Event Time!
(Tom) Heatwave or Owens? Owens or Heatwave? GAH! I CAN’T DECIDE! Probably the one who is being less of a pussy. Maybe Owens will man up and light Heatwave on fire?
(JB) One man moves on to Chain Reaction – the other, well, who knows what will be in store?
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 is a horrible human being.
(Tom) How do you figure?
(JB) Arson, attempted murder, and now, assault and battery on a defenseless woman.
(Tom) If you ask me, it seems like he’s scaling back his criminal activity.
The lights go out completely in the arena. After about one second, the opening riff of Spineshank’s “Fallback” are heard. The riff is quickly joined by the rest of the band as some small white lights around the balcony edges turn on. As the drums rapidly crescendo, the entrance ramp lights up with white lights starting from the bottom and working their way up to the very top.
(JB) Here comes Keith Owens, one half of the Tag Team Champions.
(Tom) And one whole big softy these days!
Keith Owens stands at the top of the ramp with the Tag Team Championship strapped firmly around his waist. As Spineshank continues to shred the intro of this song, stands still with his hands around his waist, staring dead ahead at the ring. White and gold fireworks are shot straight up in the air to the left and right of him on the ramp with the pounding of the drums, ending with the fireworks doing a shower effect.
Keith ignores the crowd, like usual, only this time it's not all jeers for the former Foundation Heavyweight Champion. He begins to walk down the ramp, unstrapping his belt along that way.
(Troy) Making his way to the ring, from Springfield, Illinois, weighing in at two hundred and twenty three pounds, he is one half of the NAFW Tag Team Champions… The Difference Maker... KEITH OWENS!
Upon hearing his introduction, Keith places the title belt on the apron under the bottom rope. He then puts a knee on the apron and pulls himself to a standing position and enters over the middle rope. He doesn't show any flash or bravado in the ring as he hands the referee his title belt and prepares to start the match.
Keith Owens (TT) vs. Heatwave
Chain Reaction Qualifier Match
Jason Martin calls for the bell, and Heatwave charges in to attack. Keith sidesteps, sending him to the corner, and starts tossing rights at Heatwave. The Mad Man from Miami returns with a pair of chops, sending Owens back to the middle of the ring. He charges, and Owens ducks, backdropping Heatwave to the mat. Owens runs in, dropkicking Heatwave in the back of the head, and covers for two.
Heatwave bails to the outside, stumbling to the announce table to recover. Owens bounces off the ropes, cartwheels back and flips over the top rope, crashing down on top of Heatwave. He kips up to a huge pop, and rolls Heatwave back inside. Owens climbs back to the apron, leaps over the top and lands on the Mad Man from Miami with a rolling, Eddy style senton, and covers for another two count.
(JB) It’s been all Keith Owens so far!
(Tom) Trevor offered Keith a challenge, and the Difference Maker is stepping up.
Heatwave backs himself into the corner – begging away from Owens. When Keith tries to take advantage, Heatwave grabs Owens by the tights and pulls him face first into the second turnbuckle. With Owens’ skull still on the second rope, Heatwave puts his boot on the back of Keith’s head, pushing his face into the buckle. Martin pushes him out at five. Heatwave steps into the side corner and tries to take the turnbuckle pad on. Martin pushes him away, and while he’s tying the buckle pad back on – Heatwave dives on Owens and begins choking him out. After ten, twelve seconds of oxygen deprivation – Martin finally pulls Heatwave off.
Heatwave covers for two. He pulls Owens up, irish-whips him, and hits a flying clothesline. He then stands on Owens’ throat until Martin pushes him off. A pair of backbreakers and a sideslam get two for Heatwave.
We cut to the back, where we see The Reaper, being held back by referees and officials, over a dozen in total, trying to get to the arena to get his hands on Heatwave.
(JB) This doesn’t look good.
(Tom) I know, Heatwave is dominating!
(JB) I mean in the back – if Reaper gets out here… he’s going to kill Heatwave.
Scoop and a slam, and Heatwave heads to the top rope. He leaps off, looking for a big splash, Superfly style, but misses, landing flat on the mat. With Heatwave on his knees, Owens pulls himself up and starts kicking The Mad Man of Miami in the chest and back of the skull. He falls back into the ropes and begins shaking them.
Leg lariat puts Heatwave down. A step up enziguri puts him down again. Irish-whip is reversed, and reversed again into an Owens headscissors. Piledriver for Owens gets two.
(JB) Christ! What is going on tonight?
(Tom) Everyone is in everyone’s grill – and everyone wants to kill everyone!
(JB) Can’t we just have a clean match?
(Tom) Hellllll no!
OSE runs to ringside, but Owens is undeterred. He positions Heatwave for the Difference Maker, staring at Shane as he does so. Unbeknownst to Keith, Dustin is on the other side, distracting Jason Martin. Heatwave pushes Owens off, right into the ropes… which Shane has pulled down. Owens hits the floor, hard. Dustin sprints around to the other side as Heatwave grabs Martin’s jersey. Martin attempts to extricate himself as the OSE whip Owens into the steps. Shane goes to irish-whip Dustin who reverses, and sends the big man, knees first into Owens’ face.
(JB) Oooh!
(Tom) Where the hell is Cunning?
Dustin rolls Owens back inside, and Heatwave dives on top for a looooong two. Heatwave pulls Owens up and hits a fisherman’s buster for two. Owens crawls to the ropes. Heatwave then starts arguing with Martin, allowing Dustin to climb onto the apron and legdrop Owens across the neck. He crawls back into the ring, where Heatwave is waiting to drop an elbow and cover for two.
Big Pop.
(JB) It’s the Reaper!
(Tom) I don’t know how to react! Why isn’t everything in black and white anymore?
Shane meets the Reaper up on the ramp, but trying to brawl with the Foundation Heavyweight Champion is an inevitable failure. Aarons knocks The Alpha on his ass – only for Dustin to rush in and join in the fight. Aarons low blows Dustin, only for Shane to scoop him up and hit a double leg takedown on the ramp.
Back in the ring – Heatwave is looking for a Black Furnace Driver. Owens back bodydrops out – when Heatwave climbs back to his feet, Owens takes him back down with a wheel kick. Up on the ramp, The Goods have joined the fray, taking down OSE to allow the Reaper to get back to his feet. Aarons begins moving to the ring, when Trevor Cunning pops out to take on Slush and Ammo. Dustin escapes to stop the Reaper.
In the ring – Owens has Heatwave set up for the Difference Maker. Ammo tackles Dustin into the ring apron, and the Reaper slides into the ring. Owens spins to hit the Difference Maker – Heatwave pushes off, and the Reaper scoops Heatwave up and drops him with the Reaper’s Wrath, before climbing on top and choking the Mad Man from Miami. It's at this point the referee calls for the bell - and by nature of the in ring interference, this one is being awarded to Heatwave with Owens' being DQed. Perhaps Reaper had that intent all along so he would have a shot at his foe in the Chain Reaction match for sure.
Disappointed in the loss, Owens pulls Reaper off as the chaos goes on outside. Kyle Cole has joined the fray, beating on Cunning. The Reaper shoves Owens away and goes back to beating on Heatwave, when Owens pulls Reaper off and hits the Difference Maker on the Reaper.
He sees his partner being triple teamed by Spaz, Cunning and Ammo, hits the ropes and flies – landing right on top of the pile of people. Owens turns his attention to OSE, Heatwave beats on the Reaper inside the ring. Now Mike Stryker’s out – fighting his way to the ring, beating on everyone in his path, in his quest to get at Aarons and Heatwave. Fists are flying, people are hitting each other. No one knows who’s a friend or who’s a foe. The chaos is suddenly superceded in the fans minds by the opening chords of Metallica's "Sad but True!"
(Tom) Oh yeah, this is what I'm talking about!
(JB) Things are about to heat up!
(Tom) If they do, Mann-Wheel – the whole damn arena will catch ablaze!
As would be expected with that music playing, Mike Lane walks out onto the stage, and surveys the fighting in the ring. He's not dressed for combat in the slightest, still wearing his suit from earlier. He has a microphone in his hand, and he has a huge grin on his face.
(Lane) Boys boys! What's with the fighting? Are you all stupid enough to be doing this, just several weeks out from Chain Reaction? Well, you guys might be, but I'm out here for a different reason.
The fighting ceases for the most part, just temporarily, and Lane now has their attention.
(Lane) Ya see, I'm out here for one reason, and one reason only. To announce to the world that I, your personal hero Mike Lane, Mr. Old School Hollywood, am tossing my proverbial hat into the running for Chain Reaction. And as you saw earlier... the trading cards have been made. T-shirts are being printed. Replica title belts are being fabricated. The DVD cover has been drawn up. And the marketing guru's on my staff have a bunch of catchphrases ready to be spouted out by the damn man.
Everyone just sort of stares at him.
(Lane) So gentlemen, I'll leave you to your business. I just leave you with the first catchphrase off the presses. It's not original in the slightest, and most of you have heard it before, but it speaks for itself.
He stands for a moment soaking in the jeers.
(Lane) The Champ is Here.
Biggest Mike Lane Grin Ever.
The boys go back to being boys and kicking the shit out of each other. Natureally, Lane sprints down the ramp to join in the fight.
(JB) Folks – I wish we could stay with this – but we’re out of time.
(Tom) Look, Mann-Wheel – I think the entire locker room has spilled out to ringside!
(JB) We’ll see you next week – only on Annihilation!
