Post by Eira on Feb 19, 2016 5:12:52 GMT -5
Tuesday, Feb 2nd, 2016
Jerry Andrews: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Trauma One. Eight. Seven!
Ace Anderson: We have one helluva night in store for you tonight. I'm Ace Anderson...
Jerry Andrews: ...And I'm Jerry Andrews. You ain't kidding, Ace. What a jam packed show! Last week, Alexa Black went on a tirade, putting our Underground King Hiroshi Yukio on the shelf.
Kelli Starr: AND and I’m Kelli Starr who you all know anyway and Alexa Black didn’t go on a tirade so much as she went on an attempted homicidal rampage. But hey, semantics, right?
Ace: *conspicuous clearing of throat* Yep. As a consequence, the powers that be have decided to crown a new King or Queen with a tournament. The first round brackets are TONIGHT!
Jerry: We have the Single Letter Superstar set against the returning and reborn Scarlet Phoenix.
Ace: The other match is a three way pitting "God's Machine" Nick Black, against Jury and Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith to decide the outcome.
Jerry: Speaking of Alexa Black and her reign of terror, she sent Kelli Starr to the hospital after choking her out right here in from of the faithful... And Nathan Saniti.
Ace: And he's out for blood tonight. Literally. The main event features Alexa Black in her first singles main event match against Nathan Saniti in a "No Holds Barred Blood Match.”
Kelli: ♫ Bitch is gonna get it. ♫
Jerry: ...Right. That one could get out of control fast, Ace. We also have Grimm and Non Compos Mentis grappling tonight, as well as "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght going against "The Adrenaline King" Justin Kaard.
Ace: The first team for our opening match has four of the most eclectic men in the roster battling it out.
Jerry: The East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club will be having FISTICUFFS with a newbie coming off of an impressive victorious debut last week; the Disco Stud!
Ace: Don't forget he's paired with an absolute legend in the wrestling business, a man who is having his first battle in a PCW ring, or any ring for that matter in over five years. I'm talking about "The Fabulous One" himself, Dan Fierce!
Jerry: That said, let's go to the ring and kick this funky chicken.
Kelli: Kicking small animals is bad, no matter what the voices are telling you to do.
Ace: Looks like the match is ready to begin!
Match One
Fabulous Meets Fastidious Tag Team Extravaganza
Dan Fierce & The Disco Stud vs East Sutcliffe Gentleman's Club
Referee: Nigel Gale
Fabulous Meets Fastidious Tag Team Extravaganza
Dan Fierce & The Disco Stud vs East Sutcliffe Gentleman's Club
Referee: Nigel Gale
The Gentlemen are already in the ring. Manager Reginald Emsworth does his best to fire up Lewis Hayden and Miles Prescott III as they patiently await their opponents!
Suddenly, Wild Cherry's "Play that Funky Music" drops a beat that gets the audience to their feet! Here comes the Disco Stud! Decked out in rainbow zebra-striped bell bottoms, white platform boots, he struts out to the top of the ramp before motioning to the curtain. As the music continues, out (heh) comes (double heh) Dan Fierce! The Fabulous One is dressed to the nines, or at least the 70's, with a matching outfit. The two men stand back to back at the top of the ramp, striking a pose with a leg lifted and a finger pointing high. Fierce's confetti cannons go off in all four corner of the ring, startling the Gentlemen just a bit.
Ace: The crowd is eating this up and having fun as Disco and Fierce make their way...
Jerry: NO! Fierce Disco! That's their name! Fierce Disco!
Ace: I hate you. Anyways... The Faithful are loving it!
Kelli: So am I! Fierce Disco - it’s perfect!
Jerry starts dancing to the music. Ace has discovered that internalized facepalms still have a sound, while Kelli just stares wide-eyed at Jerry.
Ace: Never do that again.
Jerry: Come on! How can you not love this?
Kelli: Dude, have you ever seen yourself dance?
Ace: I have an I.Q.? Well, at least you're not talking "that" way.
Kelli: What way?
Ace: Don’t ask.
Jerry: I SAY old cha-
Ace: I will bury you alive and salt the earth you suffocate in.
Kelli: God damn, Ace. Tell him how you REALLY feel, why don’t you?
Dan and Disco jive their way up the ring steps and through the ropes, feeding the crowd a ton of energy. Disco funks around as Dan blows kisses to the Gentlemen. His show of affection is met with indignation from all three members. At last, the crowd and competitors calm down enough to choose who will start.
Jerry: It looks like Prescott has opted to kick things off against Fierce.
Fierce and Prescott circle a bit, eventually going in for a lock-up. Both men jockey for position, but Prescott manages to break the hold, twisting the Fabulous One's arm behind his back. Lifting Fierce up, he slams the colorful queen down on his experienced posterior. (Get your minds out of the gutter.) Dan pops up, aching a bit from the slam, but nodding in appreciation for his opponent's power. Fierce shakes the pins and needles from his arm, a look of determination on his face.
Both men go in for another lock-up. This time, Fierce returns the favor, chicken winging Prescott's right arm. Instead of going for his own power move, the Fabulous One softly rubs Miles' manly backside, accentuating it with a mighty smack. Fierce releases the hold, causing Prescott to retreat hastily to his corner, a shocked and appalled look across his face. His team mate and manager are equally gap-mouthed over his antics. Emsworth calls the ref over to complain, but Gale explains that no rules were broken.
Ace: There may be some ring rust, but there's no question when it comes to the experience Fierce has in the field of mind games.
Jerry: He's a wily veteran, for sure.
Prescott is demanding that Fierce tag out, but Dan wiggles a denying finger, taunting him. Miles puts up his dukes, cautiously approaching his foe.
Jerry: FISTICUFFS!
Kelli: Cuffs? Jerry, they don’t have cuffs. They don’t even have sleeves.
Dan raises an eyebrow, mouthing, "You wanna play?" He strikes a martial arts stance, readying his legendary feet for action.
Ace: The Gentlemen better watch out. Fierce is a black belt in savate.
Jerry: Huh?
Ace: He can use his feet. Do you ever read their files?
Prescott thinks twice about getting mixed up in all that, tagging in Hayden, who looks equally reluctant to tangle with the quirky queen. But battle they must, so he charges Fierce with a clothesline, but the veteran quickly ducks underneath, grasping Lewis by the waist, grinding a bit as a prelude to a belly-to-back release suplex. Hayden sits up after impact, scooting on his posterior to the corner, dumbfounded. Dan just smirks, taunting his competitor to come at him.
Hayden scrambles to his feet, clutching his neck as he tries to figure out the enigma before him. The men circle each other. Dan blows another kiss to his foe, but this time, it gets no reaction. Lewis closes in, feigning another lock-up in order to get his hands on Dan's arm that Prescott left such an impression upon. Wrenching it back and high, the Fabulous one lets out a yelp of pain. Fierce struggles, but reverses the hold. Hayden answers by reversing it again, jumping up and cinching in a body scissors that sends Fierce to the mat on his back with a thud. Lewis applies more pressure to the midsection as the ref scurries to see if Fierce wants to give up, but the answer is no. Slowly, Hayden twists his body, turning Dan's shoulders to the mat.
Jerry: Pinning predicament!
1!
2!
NO!
Fierce manages to get the shoulder up and reverse the position enough to get his back off the mat, but Miles won't relinquish the hold. The Fabulous One musters all of his strength, dragging the burden of his opponent's weight to the ropes. The zebra calls for the break, which is quickly obeyed by the Gentleman. Fierce winces, holding his back and favoring his shoulder a bit as he gets to one knee, grimacing in agony.
Before the Colorful Queen can recoup, Hayden swings around his back to deliver a suplex of his own, dropping Dan on his well-aged neck. Miles drags Fierce to his corner for the tag. While the ref counts, Hayden puts Fierce in a Surfboard Submission. Prescott hops deftly over the ropes locking in a side-position waistlock. The ref gets to a four count before Lewis checks out of the ring, but Miles continues the torture on the Glittery Glamazon's guts. Nigel checks for an end, but Fierce refuses to submit.
Fierce struggles to reach a vertical base. Just as it looks like the veteran is getting a second wind, Prescott bullies him back down to the mat with an unceremonious slam. Disco is rallying the crowd for Fierce, his hand outstretched for the tag. Feeding from their energy, Fierce begins showing signs of life. Once again, he powers his way to his feet, only to have Prescott throw him up in the air and try to bring him back down to the mat. In the upswing, Dan manages to assist the momentum to flip the damage onto Prescott.
Both men are down in the center of the ring. Disco pleads for Fierce to make the tag, as does Hayden. The competitors begin a snails race to their respective corners.
Jerry: Miles makes the tag! So does Fierce!
Ace: Here comes the Stud!
Kelli: Is that something Mrs. Ace hears often?
Ace: There isn’t a Mrs. Ace.
Kelli: Okay, MR. Ace then.
As Jerry dissolves into helpless (and TOTALLY professional) giggles, Lewis tries for a clothesline as Disco scrambles into the ring. Disco splits, getting down and funky under the move. Hayden spins around, met with a right hook, then a left hook. Disco rolls it up, landing the exclamation point with a right cross that drops Lewis like a bad habit. The Studly One shows off his flexibility, lifting a leg over his own head before dropping it across Hayden's chest. He boogies back to his feet, pulling Lewis with him. Disco whips his challenger to the ropes, catching him with a swinging side slam. Unrelenting, he yanks Hayden back up and whips him around again.
Ace: Night Fever!
Jerry: Disco going for the cover!
1!
2!
Thr-NO!
The Stud gets the funk up, pulling the Gentleman with him as he tags in Fierce. The Fabulous One jumps up into the air, wrapping his legs around Hayden's head. Glitter Bomb!
Jerry: This could be it!
Ace: Nope. Only a two count.
Fierce tags Disco back in, spinning Hayden around for the MAKEOVER! Disco scales the turnbuckles, dropping a platformed leg square on the back of Lewis' head. He rolls him over. Gale slides into place.
1!
2!
3!
Winner: “Fierce Disco”; Disco Stud pins Lewis Hayden
The camera catches up with Nathan Saniti as he tiptoes up to a large set of double doors with a neon EXIT sign flickering above them in the dark hall. His eyes almost glow with the light as he peers back behind him, making sure he is not watched (he chooses to believe the camera is not there.) Satisfied that he has not been followed by anyone, he pushes the right door open and recoils his hands as if he had touched something of the most vile nature. Hands up at shoulder height as to not touch the door again, he slips one foot out the door and scurries outside, the camera following into the dark nook behind the arena, where cigarette butts are strewn across the cracked pavement.
Saniti: Do I hear a flapping of wings?
A light chuckle emits the darkness beside a dumpster and the burning end of a cigarette butt lights the pale face of a female, her head covered by a black hood, but strands of platinum hair and streaks of light green cascade from the cloth. Fingers with elongated claw prosthetics at the tips clasp the cigarette, the metal pincers glinting from the lone street lamp. Saniti looks more fidgety than usual, as if her presence gives him the willies.
She chuckles once more, stepping into the light, her black zip down hoodie tight around her athletic body, her lower half adorned in tattered blue jeans and calf high black biker boots. She looks Nathan up and down before dropping the cigarette to the pavement and snuffing it out like all the rest before it.
Woman: It’s been awhile since this bird has flown, sugar.
Saniti pulls at his hat and then at his shirt cuffs, but when she grins knowingly at him, he straightens up and nods, clearing his throat.
Saniti: I’m not worried in the slightest. If you are even half the threat you were when we last crossed paths, I know I made the right call.
The woman cocks her head, her emerald green eyes glinting in the light, but she does not reply, merely waits. Saniti nods and then opens the door back up, seemingly forgetting whatever gripe he had with it before.
Saniti: Right, then! No time to waste, my dear! We have much to accomplish tonight, and there is another acquaintance of ours that I suggest you find before the night comes to a close.
The woman fake curtsies, shaking her head as she walks past him into the Arena - where she clearly does not belong.
Woman: How am I to find this mysterious acquaintance, MY DEAR?
Nathan flinches from the tone of her voice but then nods and smiles, following her inside, eager for his plan to get underway.
Saniti: Oh, I’m sure it will be as simple as following a trail of glitter…
The feed switches back to the Arena proper, Ace and Jerry chatting over the backdrop of the crowd’s murmurs.
Jerry: So... what the hell?
Ace: I dunno, but he mentioned a trail of glitter...
Both Ace and Jerry cast sidelong glances at Kelli.
Kelli: What? You can’t seriously think he meant me, do you?
Ace: Who else can be found by a trail of glitter?
Jerry: Not even Q is sparkly. Colorful and weird maybe, but not so much with the sparkles.
Kelli: It’s not like I’m hard to find though, I’m right here.
Ace: We know, we’re right here next to you.
Jerry: I just want to go on record saying that I will bravely hide under this table if the hooded stranger comes looking for you.
Kelli: *in a saccharine falsetto* My HERO!
The bickering banter goes inaudible as the lights flicker and fade out as the pulsating beats of Dope Star Inc's "10000 Watts of Artificial Pleasure" pops on the PA system. Smoke fills the arena as a figure stands in the middle of it. All the sudden, Crazy Boy comes out of the smoke and pumps a fist in the air. He walks down the entryway and climbs the ropes of the ring. He bounces around the ropes a few times, pumps his fist in the air one last time and waits for his opponents to enter.
Ace: Crazy Boy looks ready to go!
Jerry: A three way is no joke - I hope he’s up to it!
Kelli: Did you hear what you just said?
Jerry: I wasn’t listening.
The house lights dim to almost black as the opening chords to Powerman 5000 "When Worlds Collide" begin over the PA system. As Spider 1 begins his lyrics, Black emerges onto the stage, soaking up the disapproval of a hostile audience. Amid a chorus of boos he stands in front of the curtain, an arrogant smirk on his face as he looks into the ring. Eventually he begins a slow walk to the ring, where he climbs the steps and ducks under the ropes. Paying no attention to the audience, God's Machine climbs one of the far turnbuckles and sits, basking in the hate and awaiting his opponent.
Kelli: I gotta say, I like his entrance music.
Ace: It’s not bad.
Jerry: I’m glad you both like it - it’s been the theme song for at least one of PCW’s pay-per-view events!
The arena turns red and black with the crowd growing into cheers, the bells of the song ring, and "Heaven Knows" by The Pretty Reckless plays! Jury at a brisk pace emerges from the back stoic and calm written on his face. His gray eyes scan the crowd for a few seconds as he stops halfway down the ramp, he then marches on. Sliding head first into the ring the quiet demeanor fades away, replaced by adrenaline, he begins to jump from leg to leg loosening up before he fights.
Ace: So what’s your beef with Jury, Dollface?
Kelli: I ... don’t?
Jerry: You had some pretty strong words for him on the fan boards...
Kelli: He started it!
Match Two
Underground Tournament Round 1
Triple Threat Match
"God's Machine" Nick Black vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith vs Jury
Referee: Eric Russo
Underground Tournament Round 1
Triple Threat Match
"God's Machine" Nick Black vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith vs Jury
Referee: Eric Russo
With the competitors in place Russo motions for the bell to ring, signifying the beginning of the match. Crazy Boy is immediately on the attack, catching both of his opponents by surprise by jumping onto the ropes and launching himself off to take both Black and Jury down with a flying double clothesline! Jury’s mass allowed him to keep his feet (albeit with a heavy stagger) remaining standing just enough for Smith to get his hands on him! In an impressive show of strength, Crazy Boy hefts Jury up, taking a few wild fists from the behemoth but slams him down with a wicked spinebuster.
Jerry: Incredible!
Ace: That shouldn’t have been possible!
Kelli: Why not? Did you already forget about me giving you a German suplex during the Icemann Invitational we were the finalists for?
Jerry: Haha! She’s got you there, Ace!
Ace: Okay, okay. Fine.
To his credit, Crazy Boy whirls to face Jury, showing great awareness wrestler, but Nick has been up and had allowed Smith perform the spinebuster in the hopes his weight would accelerate the fatigue in the high flyer! Nick goes for Crazy Boy with a totally unwarranted poke to the eye, which Little immediately calls as misconduct. The temporarily blinded Smith, clutching his face, stumbles with into the open hand of Black, neck first! Nick takes a few running steps and lifts Tyrone up in the air, and sends him back first to the mat with a chokeslam. He quickly goes for the pin, but Nick is having none of that, putting a boot in his back.
Jerry: Good one!
Ace: I can’t even guess who’s going to win this one.
Kelli: I can tell you who’s not.
Jerry: Who?
Ace: How?
Kelli: I just know these things.
Jury finally gets to his feet, staring at Nick and Smith. Crazy Boy is no fool and backs off upon seeing the two men temporarily united in front of him, not going to be caught unawares this time. Tyrone is perfectly still for all of a second then bursts into fluid motion, diving between the ropes and out of the ring, landing in a beautiful dive roll only to quickly hop to his feet! The crowd cheers at the display of acrobatic agility, Jury following suit, hopping over the top rope and landing in a crouch. However Smith knows better than to remain still, quickly back in the ring and wasting no time in rushing Black! Nick moves quickly, ducking under a running clothesline, Crazy Boy bouncing off the opposite ropes. Black is waiting for him to return, body behind his shoulder as he rams into the Crazy One! Tyrone goes reeling back - into the grasp of Jury is back in the ring as Nick follows him in! Jury locks up with Crazy Boy, belly-to-back, Black coming crashing in with a spectacular bullrush!
Ace: Wow, not usually a move we see in this weight class.
Jerry: Well, they’re hardly lightweights.
Ace: No, but still...
Kelli: Aw, c’mon, Ace. Don’t think you can convince me wrestlers don’t do crazy shit sometimes!
Jury grunts as the impact smashes him into the ropes, Smith taking most of the force as Nick Black rams into them, Jury releasing his grip and letting Crazy Boy drop to the mat! With Tyrone down and out, Black grabs Jury by the arm and Irish whips him into the ropes, but Jury has the presence of mind to grab the ropes! What the two men don’t notice is that Smith appears to have vanished from the ring... Jury and Nick Black start slugging it out in the middle of the ring, Tyrone gradually worked back towards the corner - when suddenly Crazy Boy leaps up onto the apron then the turnbuckle, aiming for Jury and sending him face first into the mat from behind with a flying bulldog! Jury crashes and burns, Nick barreling forward for another slam into Tyrone - who sidesteps! Black hits the ropes hard, his momentum enough to carry him into an awkward, flailing fall to the ringside floor! Crazy Boy with the crowd’s wild cheers behind him and Jury fast rising, drop kicks The Crazy One to the mat! Nick hauls himself back into the ring, letting loose a roar and swinging a heavy but wild right hand at Smith!
Jury up on his feet again, he’s looking to finish this match by any means necessary. With a roar he leaps forward, raining punches into the Nick’s head! Black backpedals, smashing back first into the turnbuckle as hard as he can, Jury in the unfortunate position of being between the two! Jury drops into a heap on the mat, but Tyrone is more than ready - as Black comes staggering out of the corner, Crazy Boy launches himself into a picturesque 450 splash - The Implosion!
Kelli: NICE!
Ace: The Norwegians give it a 7.5.
Jerry: I think he’s got this!
The crowd cheers as Jury collapses under the finisher, Crazy Boy tying him as Black desperately crawls towards the two, scrabbling forward as fast as he can to disrupt the pin, Ty Little in to make the count:
...1!
...2!
...
...3!!!!
Winner: Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
As Dope Stars Inc's "1000 Watts of Artificial Pleasure rocks out of the PCW Loudspeakers, Crazy Boy takes a few moments to celebrate in the ring, playing it up to the crowd before heading towards the back.
Kelli: I'm glad to see Crazy Boy getting a win.
Ace: He's been one of PCW's longer running competitors, I always like seeing him in action.
Jerry: So who's crazier, do you think? Alexa or Tyrone?
Kelli: I dunno, but I can tell you who's uglier. And here's a hint - it isn't Crazy Boy.
Ace: Are you going to be like this about Alexa all night?
Jerry: Can you blame her?
Ace: ... not really, no.
Kelli: Yeah. That's what I THOUGHT.
Match Three
Underground Tournament Round 1
Singles Match
=Q= vs Scarlet Phoenix
Referee: Ty Little
Underground Tournament Round 1
Singles Match
=Q= vs Scarlet Phoenix
Referee: Ty Little
At ringside, all of the lights turn off suddenly, unceremoniously plunging the entire arena in darkness.
Spotlights appear, in purest white light and begin searching across the crowd, ring, ramp and eventually settling on the stage.
The lights flicker from white, to blue, to red, to green, finally settling on pink before the sounds of shattering glass are heard echoing through the arena and the spotlights seem to dissipate.
A moment of silence that hangs throughout the arena until the lights flash on and off, bright and sudden, like a strobe effect before a pyrotechnic crackles around the big screen as “I AM THE FIRE” by Halestorm plays, the spotlights back now, but burning red and oranges in color as they dance around the crowd as a redheaded beauty walks out on to the stage.
The camera gets up close to the stage to get the woman on screen. She is wearing black wrestling tights emblazoned with a fiery design around the top and a red belt. On top, she wore a black and red matching sports top with the fiery design curling around her chest. On her hands, she wears a pair of black and red MMA style gloves and she confidently walks to the ring to face her opponent.
She doesn't have to wait long before "Super Soul Fighter," by Lenny Kravitz bring the peanut gallery to their feet! The sound of rocket ships can be heard in the background. The low ... but steadily rising rumble of engines. WHOOSH. KSSSSSSSSH. The doors open and ...
... out rolls the FUNK! Q steps out as the music starts, the crowd getting into that fresh, tasty jam. He's smiling and bobbing his head as he walks to the ring in step with the beat. Slapping hands. Kissing babies. Showing off signs dedicated to him, or anything he thinks is creative or noteworthy. The lights pulsate in multi-colored hues. the music kicking into full swing as he finishes his walk to the ringside area.
The atmosphere has shifted from one of combat to one of FUN.
As he enters the ring, he catapults himself over the top rope and rolls in, sprinting towards the hard camera and getting RIGHT in its' focus, shaking it and directing it out to the crowd in attendance.
Ty Little directs both contestants to the center of the ring for final instructions. Q offers up a handshake in good sportsman(person)like conduct. Scarlet clasps his hand with a smile and a nod as the ref calls for the bell.
Jerry: Two fan favorites duking it out in an Underground match. You think Q, or Scarlet for that matter, will remember that anything goes?
Ace: I don't know what to expect from Scarlet Phoenix since her re-emergence and rebirth, Jerry, but don't sell Q short. We saw last week that he can hang with the vicious dogs if need be. Both have martial arts backgrounds, so who knows what we'll see?
Kelli: Maybe some more savate, eh, Jerry?
The two opponents circle each other, sizing each other up respectfully. Phoenix has her hands balled up into fist, her long, lethal legs, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Q slides his feet in a stance of his own, awaiting Scarlet's first move. The two continue to silently dare the other to make the first move, the tension high enough to keep the interest of the onlookers.
Scarlet throws a swift kick at the Single Letter Superstar's head, which he blocks with confidence. She makes a similar attempt with her other foot, met with the same results. Finally, she lowers into a boxing stance and closes in. With the speed of a gazelle, she charges, Q barely evading her jabs. As Scarlet throws a right cross, Q fails to see the knee until it connects with his ribcage. The Firebird lands another punch in the same spot her knee just left. Q scuttles away, clutching his ribs.
Jerry: I think that was the same spot that Q got injured last week in his match against Jury.
Ace: Someone did their homework.
Jerry: Well, thanks, Ace. That means a lot...
Ace: I was talking about Scarlet, genius.
Kelli: Burrrnnnn.
The Crimson Goddess doesn't give Q much room to breathe, smacking him square in the sniffer with a missile dropkick. Q stumbles through the ropes and to the floor outside for a Quick breather. A pained expression on his face, he sifts under the ring as Phoenix shuffles back and forth awaiting his return to battle. Q find what he's looking for and rolls back into the ring, keeping the weapon of choice hidden.
Still stashing whatever he found as if he forgot that this was an Undergound match, he beckons Scarlett to come at him. With a raised eyebrow, she steels herself, shifting back and forth as she lurches forward.
SMACK
Q produces his flyswatter, landing a blow that is more injurious to the Red Devil's pride than her face. Phoenix holds the spot on her countenance that got tattooed by the flimsy device. Anger wells up inside her. Scarlet charges at Q in a fit of rage. He answers by reacquainting her with the PCW mat face first with a drop toe hold. He follows with a light tap to the back of his opponent's head, not hard enough to damage her pretty face or bloody her nose, just enough to cause her to momentarily see stars. Q scampers to his feet. Scarlet slowly regains her own vertical base, dabbing at her nose to make sure no blood is coming out.
With a mighty yowl, Phoenix charges in, attempting to land a jab, but the Single Letter Superstar catches her arm in an arm bar, hefting it behind her shoulder. Scarlett yelps in pain from the unexpected movement, but Q doesn't take into account her flexibility as she lifts a leg, catching Q in his already tender ribs once again. Q retains his grip, but the Firebird lands another kick to his midsection. He releases his grip to deal with the needles of agony drilling themselves into his ribcage.
Jerry: Phoenix is still working on those ribs. Q has got to be in a great deal of pain.
Ace: It's very smart by the returning star. When your ribs hurt, it's hard to breathe. That will help keep the momentum in her favor.
Phoenix grasps Q, slinging him into the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a hurricanrana. She's going for a pin! Little drops to deliver the count.
1!
2!
No!
Q bucks Phoenix off of him, but not without a wince or two. Scarlet stands up, bringing her foe with her by the arm. She slingshots Q into the corner turnbuckles. She charges in after him, landing on the second ropes for a monkey flip. She gives a sudden yank throwing him over her as she drops to the floor, but Q flips out of it, landing on his feet! The Crimson Goddess regains her stance, just barely dodging as Q sprays the air with a red mist!
Jerry: Q going for the Poison Mist, but no one was home.
Kelli: She was probably out shopping for a less cliché call name.
Phoenix lifts another leg, pelting Q in the breadbasket. As he doubles over in pain, Scarlett hops over him, trapping his waist in a scissors, pulling him down with a thud. Now Q howls in anguish as the long-legged woman sQueezes for all she's worth. Ty Little checks Q to see if he's ready to call it Quits, but he perseveres. Q manages to snake an arm between the powerful thighs of his adversary, using the leverage to pry them apart.
He finally manages to wrest himself free, slinking from between her legs. He stands painfully erect, Scarlett not far behind him. Sensing a victory, she goes in, doubling him over with yet another kick. Q wilts to his knees, his arms cradling his entirely too sore ribs. The Firebird charges the ropes, smacking the Single Letter Superstar with a Shining Wizard on the recoil. She pulls Q to the nearest corner, scaling the turnbuckles. She points to the heavens, hopping into the air with acrobatic grace.
Ace: 450 Splash!
Scarlet hooks the far leg. The zebra slides into position.
1!
2!
NO!
Jerry: How the hell is Q staying in this?
Ace: I don't know, but if he doesn't do something soon, he won't be able to!
Phoenix slaps the mat with frustration. Pulling Q to his feet, she starts to Irish whip him to the ropes, but Q reverses it. He catches her in an arm lock as she bounds back. He contorts her arm farther back at an uncomfortable looking angle. Scarlet begins hollering in pain. The ref asks her if she wants to relent, but she denies him. Using her quickness, she rolls away, relieving the harmful hold. She explodes to her feet, rolling her arm in its socket to regain its cooperation.
The Crimson Goddess charges at Q in a blind fury. He deftly leapfrogs over her. She returns from the other side, but Q is waiting.
Jerry: Heaven and Earth Throw!
Livid as she regains her footing, the Firebird turns around, unprepared.
ACE: QFT!
Q hooks the far leg as Little scoots in for the count.
1!
2!
3!
Winner: =Q= via Pinfall
Ace: Just like we expected, not much of an Underground style match, but an impressive match nonetheless.
Jerry: There may not have been weapons used, but it allowed both competitors to utilize their respective martial arts backgrounds.
Kelli: *adopts a deadpan monotone British accent* And now for something completely different.
“Glamorous,” by Fergie blasts over the speakers. Here comes DAN FIERCE! The crowd is on their feet! DAN is dressed in a sequined tuxedo jacket with tails and a ruffled white shirt tucked into his rainbow zebra print wrestling tights. He climbs the steps and ducks between the ropes before grabbing a mic from a tech. The music fades down as DAN puts the speaking phallus to his mouth. His trademark grin glows as he lets the crowd react before finally speaking.
Dan: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another edition of the Glam Slam!
The crowd roars as the confetti cannons go off in each corner, spraying the ring with rainbow confetti.
Dan: That was one helluva workout tagging with Disco Stud against the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club. This bitch is whipped, let me tell ya. Whew!
He soaks in the audience reaction appreciatively for a few second before a more solemn look crosses his face.
DAN: When I chose my guest this week, the irony of it being Trauma 1-8-7 was almost lost on me. For those who might not know, 1-8-7 is the police code for homicide. After thinking about it, it just seemed apropos, especially considering the path of destruction she left behind her last week. I sincerely hope she got most of it out of her system. I'm too pretty to be wearing my own blood. Anyhoo... I can't say I condone what she does, but I think you all know by now exactly who I'm talking about. Please welcome my guest; Alexa Black!
The crowd looks to the entrance way as "Black Widow," by In This Moment roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage and they start booing loudly almost drowning out the music. Alexa Black steps through the curtain her face lit up with a wicked smile. She is in non-wrestling attire, consisting of a Red T shirt and Black jeans with black boots and a silver spider medallion around her neck.
By her side on the left, is her manager Alexander Shaw, a large scraggly-bearded man wearing a floral shirt and white pants. On her right is her huge bodyguard Frederick Shaw, a lumbering mountain of a man his 6"9 385 lb frame easily towers over the other two, and is truly a terrifying sight to see. He also has a bushy beard and is wearing a black tank top and mustard yellow pants.
She walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back their hatred of this evil woman. She mocks the crowd and badmouth fans on the way using various profanity which has to be bleeped out. She sees a kid at ringside and rips up his sign with a laugh. As she continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing. She reaches the ring and Alexa climbs up on the ring apron. She enters the ring and the crowd starts throwing rubbish at her . Food and cups of beer fly in from all directions but she simply doesn't care. The music fades out as Alexa steps in the ring and The Shaw brothers remain at her side watching carefully.
Dan: As I mentioned before, you really went on a tear last week, including putting the Underground King Hiroshi Yukio on the shelf as well as putting our guest commentator this week, Kelli Starr, in the hospital. I think the question on everyone's mind is, why? Why did you go on such a rampage?
She completely ignores Dan walking over to the side of the ring where the announce table is located.
Alexa: First off let me say Hi Kelli! How's your throat?
Dan scoffs at Alexa's antics. Kelli just glowers at the Black Widow, nodding her head. Alexa does an about face, pointing at the jumbo screen at the top of the ramp.
Alexa: Can we get a replay of that on the PCW-Tron?
The crowd rallies behind the candy-haired girl as she builds a head of steam off the ropes, landing a seated senton to the small of Miles' back. Nathan is back up and cheering her on. Prescott flops over onto his back as Kelli scales the second turnbuckle, dropping an elbow to the sternum. Miles winces in pain, clutching his chest. Starr climbs the turnbuckles again, but Miles rolls out of the way before she launches a second attack.
"Black Widow," by In This Moment shatters the atmosphere, pulling Kelli's gaze to the entrance. A few seconds of the theme plays, but no Alexa Black. Kelli smirks, shaking her head indifferently. As she does an about face, Prescott daintily wraps his arms around her waist. Before he can get a good purchase, Nathan speeds into the ring, clubbing Miles in the back of the head with a forearm. Saniti scrambles out of the ring as the collective heap of Starr and Prescott tries to untangle itself. Kelli glares at Nathan for his interference, but takes the opportunity to yank Miles to the center of the ring for some serious Dubstepping.
The worn out Gentleman finds himself being pulled into enemy territory as Kelli hits the tag. Nathan leaps over the top rope, burying both feet hard into Prescott's chest. Kelli barely gets both feet back outside before Nathan tags her back in, instructing her to go to the top. Holding Miles in place, Nathan nods to Kelli. She leaps high into the air, landing both knees atop the ribcage of the punished Prescott. Kelli returns the tag. Nathan steps in, as PCW's power couple begins to waltz all over every inch of their opponent. Lim reaches the four count as Starr clamors to exit before they are disqualified.
Saniti pulls his prey to his feet and back down again with a nasty looking power slam.
"Black Widow" begins playing again, causing Nathan's eyes to darken and grim morph into a grimace of hate. Leaving his foe behind, he studies the ramp for signs of life, but no one appears. In the confusion, Prescott, takes the time to tag in his partner. Hayden cautiously enters the ring as if deciding just what to do next, since his adversary's back is turned.
Finally, the Shaw Brothers, the men who had earlier helped Alexa injure the Underground champion not a few short minutes earlier. They taunt the tag champs, keeping their distance. Both Kelli and Nathan beg the newcomers to come down to the ring.
Jerry Andrews: Wait... Who's climbing out from under the ring?
Ace Anderson: It's Alexa Black!
Just as Alexa jumps up on the ring apron long enough to knock Kelli to the ground, an unaware Hayden rolls the distracted Nathan up in a small package. Alexa's two goons rush the ring to join in on the vicious beatdown. Lim drops for the count.
One!
Two!
Three!
Lim calls for the bell!
Hayden releases the hold to celebrate, but an irate Nathan explodes away from him in an effort to stop the assault on Kelli. He slides out of the ring, only to be met by the Shaw Brothers. They kick and beat him mercilessly as Kelli is getting thrummed by Alexa Black. The Brothers manage to assail Nathan into near helplessness, holding his head up, forcing him to watch as Alexa continues her own mugging.
The Angry Amazon lifts Kelli above her head, bringing her down back first on the steel ring steps. Starr yowls in agony as Alexa screeches sadistically at her, mocking her pain. An almost serene moment of clarity hits Alexa's eyes as she eyes one of the cameraman's cables, a Cheshire grin widening across her face. Without hesitation, Black wraps the cord around Kelli's windpipe, hauling her up to her feet and onto her back. Pain changes to panic as Dollface struggles for air, unable to even scream for help.
Meanwhile, Nathan struggles to free himself from his captors' grasp, met each time with more cruel punches and kicks, keeping his outbursts of energy barely halted through his fits adrenaline-infused strength.
Alexa continues to tease Kelli with redemption from her beating by allowing her to reach the ground long enough to think she'll be able to breathe before wrenching her aloft again. Within a few minutes, Starr's complexion begins to blue as the fight leaves her body, her arms draping limp to her sides.
Suddenly, "Through This Pain (You Heal)," by Faderhead pops over the loud speakers as NCM rushes the ring.
Ace Anderson: Looks like Mentis has seen enough.
Jerry Andrews: It's about time someone stopped that crazy woman.
The Shaw Brothers drop Nathan, and Alexa releases Kelli's lifeless body, but NCM manages to get in a few good licks before the Amazon retreats into the crowd alongside her cronies. Mentis drops to a knee next to Kelli, signaling for the paramedics. Saniti stretches out a hand to his beloved, letting out a blood curdling lament. As he does, patches of his hair switch back and forth from the current coal black to his more normal fiery locks, his eyes changing from a pale green to the unhinged yellow of yore.
Nathan crawls over to his love, tears streaming down his face, his mournful cries shattering the hearts of the gathered masses. At long last, he reaches his beloved, cradling her in his arms, rocking her, and swatting away the paramedics as they attempt to help her. Standing tall, he struggles through his own pain wracked muscles to carry her as she hangs limply from his arms. He gently places her on a stretcher, allowing the medics to do their job at last as they wheel her away as fast as they can.
"Black Widow," by In This Moment shatters the atmosphere, pulling Kelli's gaze to the entrance. A few seconds of the theme plays, but no Alexa Black. Kelli smirks, shaking her head indifferently. As she does an about face, Prescott daintily wraps his arms around her waist. Before he can get a good purchase, Nathan speeds into the ring, clubbing Miles in the back of the head with a forearm. Saniti scrambles out of the ring as the collective heap of Starr and Prescott tries to untangle itself. Kelli glares at Nathan for his interference, but takes the opportunity to yank Miles to the center of the ring for some serious Dubstepping.
The worn out Gentleman finds himself being pulled into enemy territory as Kelli hits the tag. Nathan leaps over the top rope, burying both feet hard into Prescott's chest. Kelli barely gets both feet back outside before Nathan tags her back in, instructing her to go to the top. Holding Miles in place, Nathan nods to Kelli. She leaps high into the air, landing both knees atop the ribcage of the punished Prescott. Kelli returns the tag. Nathan steps in, as PCW's power couple begins to waltz all over every inch of their opponent. Lim reaches the four count as Starr clamors to exit before they are disqualified.
Saniti pulls his prey to his feet and back down again with a nasty looking power slam.
"Black Widow" begins playing again, causing Nathan's eyes to darken and grim morph into a grimace of hate. Leaving his foe behind, he studies the ramp for signs of life, but no one appears. In the confusion, Prescott, takes the time to tag in his partner. Hayden cautiously enters the ring as if deciding just what to do next, since his adversary's back is turned.
Finally, the Shaw Brothers, the men who had earlier helped Alexa injure the Underground champion not a few short minutes earlier. They taunt the tag champs, keeping their distance. Both Kelli and Nathan beg the newcomers to come down to the ring.
Jerry Andrews: Wait... Who's climbing out from under the ring?
Ace Anderson: It's Alexa Black!
Just as Alexa jumps up on the ring apron long enough to knock Kelli to the ground, an unaware Hayden rolls the distracted Nathan up in a small package. Alexa's two goons rush the ring to join in on the vicious beatdown. Lim drops for the count.
One!
Two!
Three!
Lim calls for the bell!
Winners: The East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club!
Hayden releases the hold to celebrate, but an irate Nathan explodes away from him in an effort to stop the assault on Kelli. He slides out of the ring, only to be met by the Shaw Brothers. They kick and beat him mercilessly as Kelli is getting thrummed by Alexa Black. The Brothers manage to assail Nathan into near helplessness, holding his head up, forcing him to watch as Alexa continues her own mugging.
The Angry Amazon lifts Kelli above her head, bringing her down back first on the steel ring steps. Starr yowls in agony as Alexa screeches sadistically at her, mocking her pain. An almost serene moment of clarity hits Alexa's eyes as she eyes one of the cameraman's cables, a Cheshire grin widening across her face. Without hesitation, Black wraps the cord around Kelli's windpipe, hauling her up to her feet and onto her back. Pain changes to panic as Dollface struggles for air, unable to even scream for help.
Meanwhile, Nathan struggles to free himself from his captors' grasp, met each time with more cruel punches and kicks, keeping his outbursts of energy barely halted through his fits adrenaline-infused strength.
Alexa continues to tease Kelli with redemption from her beating by allowing her to reach the ground long enough to think she'll be able to breathe before wrenching her aloft again. Within a few minutes, Starr's complexion begins to blue as the fight leaves her body, her arms draping limp to her sides.
Suddenly, "Through This Pain (You Heal)," by Faderhead pops over the loud speakers as NCM rushes the ring.
Ace Anderson: Looks like Mentis has seen enough.
Jerry Andrews: It's about time someone stopped that crazy woman.
The Shaw Brothers drop Nathan, and Alexa releases Kelli's lifeless body, but NCM manages to get in a few good licks before the Amazon retreats into the crowd alongside her cronies. Mentis drops to a knee next to Kelli, signaling for the paramedics. Saniti stretches out a hand to his beloved, letting out a blood curdling lament. As he does, patches of his hair switch back and forth from the current coal black to his more normal fiery locks, his eyes changing from a pale green to the unhinged yellow of yore.
Nathan crawls over to his love, tears streaming down his face, his mournful cries shattering the hearts of the gathered masses. At long last, he reaches his beloved, cradling her in his arms, rocking her, and swatting away the paramedics as they attempt to help her. Standing tall, he struggles through his own pain wracked muscles to carry her as she hangs limply from his arms. He gently places her on a stretcher, allowing the medics to do their job at last as they wheel her away as fast as they can.
Alexa: It's such a shame you're back here looks like I didn't do enough damage. But not to worry I'll fix that and make sure your injuries are permanent next time, you pink haired harlot.
Alexa finally turns her attention to her host.
Alexa: And as to your question the answer is because I was fed up.
Dan: Fed up?
Alexa: I'm sick and tired of Psychedelica mocking me and saying that I'm all talk and no action. For weeks now, they have been running their fucking mouths both on and offline. I decided I'd had enough and wanted to shut them up
Dan: So why did you attack Hiroshi Yukio? He didn't do jack diddly to you.
Alexa: As for that fat Japanese whale, the reason I took him out was to send a message. I'm going to put the entire locker room on notice. No one , no matter how big or bad you think you are, is safe and you will all be crushed and made to suffer!
Dan: Non Compos Mentis rushed in and saved the day after you attacked Kelli Starr. Do you have anything to say to him?
Alexa: Yes as a matter of fact I do. NCM this is your first and ONLY warning. Do not stick your nose in my business again or I shall break it, and the rest of your body.
Dan: Speaking of your choking Kelli out, do you really think it was wise to put yourself directly in Nathan Saniti's crosshairs? I mean, he DEMANDED a No Hold Barred match with you tonight.
Alexa: I'm not afraid of him or his cheap parlor tricks. In fact I look forward to finishing off him and putting both members of Psychedelica in the ICU and on the injured list. Then, and only then, will I consider my work complete.
Dan: One more question. Will the Shaw Brothers be a factor in tonight's match? It IS No Holds Barred, after all.
Alexa: Well...
This time, Dan interrupts her.
Dan: Actually, let me answer that for you, sweetie.
Dan points to the PCW-Tron, where a video of a woman in torn jeans, biker boots, and platinum hair with bright green streaks peeking out of a black hoodie is sitting on top of a bound and gagged ...Dan Fierce!? The rather unhinged-looking woman gently rakes her prosthetic claws across Dan's face.
Jerry: Is that the girl Nathan Saniti let into the building?
Ace: It sure looks like it.
Jerry: She looks about as batshit crazy as Alexa is.
Before what she's seeing can even register, Alexa suddenly hears one large thump and then another behind her. The audience lets out a collective gasp as purple smoke billows all round her feet. She slowly turns around, only to see the Shaw Brothers unconscious on the mat, with hatpins sticking from their necks. Right where the host of the Glam Slam was standing is none other than the Mystical Madman. He has a fistful of hatpins in the hand where a microphone once was! He lunges at the Black Widow, narrowly missing her as she drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring.
Nathan: You may have escaped my grasp for now, but later tonight your real nightmare will begin. I'm coming for my pound of flesh, you diseased bitch!
Ace: Did Nathan just swear?
Jerry: I - I think he did!
Kelli: Gotta go.
Kelli drops her headset, scuttling into the ring before Jerry and Ace can even react to her leaving the table. Scrambling to get between Nathan and Alexa, Dollface does everything in her power to quell her lover's rage. Alexa screams her own discontent at the pair from midway up the ramp. Nathan grows suddenly calm, backing away from the ropes. He twists around, cocking his head curiously at the two men laying in the ring. He stalks toward the larger of the two men, kneeling by his side. He slowly begins shoving a hatpin into Frederick's right hand as he stares daggers at Alexa. He slinks over, through Kelli's protests to Alexander, and does the same to Alexa's new manager. Finally, he stands bolt upright, a demonically satisfied look on his face. He speaks slowly and clearly, his eyes glowing red with hatred.
Nathan: I shall enjoy our encounter tonight, Miss Black. I'll take my time dismantling you piece by piece. Do yourself a favor, Miss Black, and stay away....Because if you get into this ring with me tonight... I. WILL. KILL. YOU!
Alexa quickly starts to walk up the ramp, but as she does the lights go down, followed by the screech of the PA system being wrenched into action with heavily synthesized tones. The PCW-Tron stutters through black and white images of urban decay, throwing weird shadows across the crowd. The repetitive tones last for ten seconds until more join them into a strict beat and letters begin to emerge from the chaos on the big screen…
“N… C… M”
… And the arena erupts with the heavily synthesized tones and hard bass of ‘Through This Pain (You Heal)’ by Faderhead, combined with a shock of intense white strobe lights that punctuate the darkness. As the beat continues, a single spotlight shines at the top of the ramp and finds Non Compos Mentis himself standing at the entrance way Over the roar of the PCW fans the vocals kick in, and the ‘Born Psycho’ walks intensely towards Alexa...
“I disrespect you, dissect you, reject you,
The second you start to speak,
I try to see you, low-key you, and be you,
But you are way too boutique for me
You celebrate the world's mistakes
Cause you're so idle, you can't fail
You celebrate your worst mistakes
Cause you're an "idol" - you can't feel
He continues to walk down staring a hole through Alexa, blocking her means of escape. She quickly changes course and jumps the security wall, running off into the crowd.
Match Four
Singles Match
Michael "Mr. Showtime" Wryght (International ©) vs Justin "The Adrenaline King" Kaard
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
Singles Match
Michael "Mr. Showtime" Wryght (International ©) vs Justin "The Adrenaline King" Kaard
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
"Gold on the Ceiling" by The Black Keys begins to blare over the P.A. system and the arena darkens. A single spotlight begins to shine on the entrance way illumination none other than “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. He is wearing a long black and silver sleeveless robe and the PCW International Title around his waist. He stands there with his back to the ring and his arms crossed. The back of the robe is exposed with the words in blue and silver “Mr. Showtime” and slightly behind him is the beautiful Perfection.
Ace: Stand up for the International Champion and PCW President, Jerry!
Jerry: That man is NOT the President, Ace! Sit down!
Ace: When someone tells me who IS, I'll sit down!
Kelli: Looks like you’re gonna be standin’ there a while.
Showtime slowly walks to the beat of the music as the only light in the arena follows him to the ring. He walks up the stairs and whips off his feet on the outside apron. He ducks under the top rope and two other spotlights shoot on him he spins and puts his arms out. He slowly makes his way to the corner crossing his wrists, with is fingers are lock making a “W.” He pulls his arms down setting off some small pyros behind him, which also brings the lights to return to the arena.
The arena darkens again as the stage fills with a heavy white smoke as the opening chords of 'Light em up' begin. Lights strobe through the smoke teasing a shrouded figure standing on the stage. An explosion on the stage clears the smoke as the lights come back up, leaving Justin Kaard posing on the stage, stance staggered with one arm raised in the air.
Jerry: Not gonna stand up for a former World Champion, Ace?
Ace: He can't fire me, so no.
Jerry: Neither can Michael Wryght!
Ace: Keep talking, Andrews, could use a change in commentary anyway...
Jerrys: Wait, what?
Kelli: SERIOUSLY, it’s not like I’m here or anything, jeez. RUDE.
As Ace tries to fix that delightful little whoops, Kaard strides purposely down the ramp, stopping about half way down as he pumps his fists into the air. Continuing down the ramp, he turns the corner and sprints towards the ring. With a slight leap he slides on his knees along the apron before catching himself and facing the audience. Stepping up and through the ropes he makes a circuit around the ring before bouncing off the far side and sprinting across the rings.
He steps up, balancing himself on the second and third rope while pointing across the audience. Bouncing with the ropes, he jumps back into the ring and waits for Tyrone Little Jr to ring the bell. The referee waits for both men to ready themselves and the bell rings out. Both competitors make tentative steps forward with Showtime hunkering low and Kaard on his toes. Kaard is the first to act, throwing a combo of low kicks but coming up clean as Showtime tries to pick an ankle.
The two rotate around the centre of the ring in some arcane ritual of kick and counter until Showtime throws himself at Kaard's feet, grabbing one and quickly capitalising. With a sudden double leg takedown, Showtime showcases his technical skill by quickly shuffling around his opponent and locking in a Front Chancery hold. Kaard struggles to get free but Wryght has the hold in tight and adds extra torque with a controlling gator-roll and then a second.
Jerry: A dominant start from the International Champion!
Ace: And perfect strategy. The Adrenaline King loves the air so keeping grounded is paramount.
Kelli: He LOOKS young enough to be grounded.
Jerry: Isn’t he older than you?
Kelli: You really don’t read the talent bios at all, do you?
Ace: Told you.
Showtime keeps the hold locked in but Kaard finds his bearings, pushing off the mat and back to his feet. While still in the hold, Kaard pushes his opponents backwards into the corner, utilising the referee's five count. Little Jr gets to a four before Mr Showtime finally releases. Just as Kaard lifts his head though, Showtime mockingly slaps Kaard and calls for him to “back away from a real champion.”
Holding his cheek in disgust, Kaard gives a sly grin and the reacts violently with a salvo of forearms. Wryght is forced back into the corner until Kaard finally relents and whips him across the ring. As Wryght lands in the opposite corner, the lightning fast Kaard charges and aims a jumping forearm at his head... but Wryght moves just in time to send his opponent crashing into the turnbuckles instead. Quickly the veteran capitalises and lashes off a series of chops to the chest before pulling Kaard out of the corner and delivering a sharp Neckbreaker, floating over into a pin.
...1!
...tw - NO!
Kaard gets his shoulder up but Showtime is not so easily deterred. He quickly locks in a side Headlock and wrenches hard on the neck of his counterpart. Referee Little asks for a submission but is sent away by Kaard who fights back up to his knees and delivers a trio of elbows to the gut before Showtime lets him loose. He hits the ropes and rebounds fast, but Kaard meets the larger Showtime in the middle and is knocked down by a resolute shoulders block. This time Showtime hits the ropes but Kaard quickly leapfrogs him with incredibly agility. Showtime carries through into the opposite ropes and looks to attack... but Kaard turns and explodes with a face-crushing Dropkick that throws Showtime all the way to the outside.
Jerry: Explosive attack there from Kaard!
Ace: I don't think he's done...!
Kelli: I thought that once with an ex. Wishful thinking.
As Wryght composes himself on the outside he doesn't see Kaard rebound off the ropes and launch himself clear over the top rope with a huge Tope Con Hilo!
Jerry: Justin Kaard went so high he came down with snow on him!
Kelli: Tapping into his inner Charlie Sheen?
Ace: Is EVERYTHING drugs or sex with you?
Kelli: *hurt and bemused tone* You say that like it’s a BAD thing!
Kaard plays to the fans for a moment before throwing Showtime back in the ring. With the PCW Faithful in full voice, the Adrenaline King takes another second to revel in their cheers before rolling back into the ring. That extra moment was an expensive luxury, though, as Showtime rolls him into a surprise Small Package pin!
...1!
...2!
... - kickout!
Again Kaard manages to escape and rolls quickly to his feet but Showtime is there too and grabs his head for a signature Single Arm DDT. Kaard refuses to go down and instead uses his strength to execute a Northern Lights Suplex. The reversal could lead to a pin but Kaard instead uses his agility to roll through and back to his feet. He drags Showtime up with him and attempts a Vertical Suplex but Showtime manages to reverse and slides out of the back door. Instinctively Wryght pushes Kaard in the back and throws him toward the corner, but again Kaard is too agile and responsive and instead leaps onto the turnbuckles. As the high flier sets himself to execute an expectedly spectacular manoeuvre, Showtimes lashes out with a vicious boot to the knee, causing it to buckle and get caught in a Tree of Woe.
Ace: Justin Kaard just met the ugly side of risk and reward...
With Kaard literally dangling by a leg, Showtime unleashes a savage combo of punches into the unprotected knee of his rival. Kaard tries to free himself but Wryght's assault takes another turn as his backs off across the ring and charges at full pace before throwing himself into a running Dropkick to the knee. The crowd sends a torrent of jeers toward the opportunistic Wryght who is more than happy at his handiwork and drags Kaard out into the middle of the ring.
Grabbing both legs Showtime tries to lock in his patented finishing submission, The Spotlight, but Kaard desperately fends him off. With a final effort, Kaard throws Showtime backwards and down to the mat and struggles quickly to his feet. Just as Wryght gets to a knee, Kaard throws himself forward and nails a Projectile Hurricanrana. Showtime's head bounces off the mat and Kaard claws himself into a pin while holding his injured leg.
...1!
...2!
- not yet!
Ace: Justin Kaard couldn't use that leg to add pressure to the pin, that could have cost him the win right there!
Kaard uses the ropes to climb painfully to his feet, while Showtime moves to the corner to get his bearings too. With a noticeable lack of his regular speed, Kaard dashes at Wryght and looks for a corner Clothesline but Showtimes reverses and sends him into the turnbuckles instead. Kaard hits chest first and rebounds with Showtime grabbing his arms from behind and executing the Cross Arm Back Drop to perfection.
Holding the back of his head, Kaard pushes himself up but Showtime is already scouting him. He grabs the head and arm of Kaard and twists for the Sweetness to finish the wounded opponent... but still Kaard fights back, wrestling his arm free and shoving Wryght in the back. Unable to control himself, Showtime bounces off the ropes and Kaard throws all his weight forward into a shuddering
Running Knee Smash!
Jerry: Mach Five! Showtime could be out cold!
Ace: But Kaard used that injured knee and damaged it even more!
Kaard writhes in pain on the mat, holding his knee after using it as an instrument of blunt trauma. Desperately trying to shake some responsiveness back into his leg, Kaard gives Showtime enough time to shake some conciousness back into his head. Going to the well again, Kaard rolls onto the apron and uses the ropes to get to his feet.
Ace: Kaard is entirely devoted to being the Adrenaline King, I don't think he knows another way of life!
Jerry: If he doesn’t figure one out, he might be done with the whole way of life thing.
Kelli: You gotta work on your one liners, man.
Showtime gets to his feet in the middle of the ring and turns as Kaard summons all his energy to leap up onto the top rope. In the moment before Kaard takes flight, Showtime's reflexes kick in and he rushes the ropes. The impact buckles the already vulnerable knee of Kaard and the Adrenaline King collapses, bouncing legs-first off the ropes into a cringeworthy heap.
Showtime mercilessly grabs Kaard by the legs and drags him into the middle of the ring. With the boos of the crowd ringing around the arena, Wryght locks in the Elevated Texas Cloverleaf and wrenches back on the knee, putting Kaard in immense agony.
Jerry: The Spotlight is on Kaard, on the knee that's taken so much abuse!
Kaard tries to look for a way out but the hold is in too tight and the ropes are agonisingly too far away. Referee Little gets into position and begs the question of Kaard who tries to hold back and buy time.... but inevitably taps out!
Winner: Michael “Mr. Showtime” Wryght via Submission
Jerry: A valiant performance but in the end the damage to the knee was just too much for Justin Kaard!
Ace: But it takes an expert to capitalise on that weakness and Mr Showtime did just that! The International Champion put on a clinic of how to exploit a wounded opponent.
'Gold on the Ceiling' hits the PA system as Tyrone Little Jr returns the PCW International Title to Mr Showtime and raises his arm in victory while the less-than-pleased audience rain boos and jeers down upon him. Wryght leaves the ring and rejoins the lovely Perfection as the referee tends to a clearly distraught Justin Kaard in the ring.
Match Five
Singles Match
Grimm (World ©) vs Non Compos Mentis (North American ©)
Referee: Charles Lim
Singles Match
Grimm (World ©) vs Non Compos Mentis (North American ©)
Referee: Charles Lim
Suddenly the lights go down, followed by the screech of the PA system being wrenched into action with heavily synthesized tones. The Tron stutters through black and white images of urban decay, throwing weird shadows across the crowd. The repetitive tones last for ten seconds until more join them into a strict beat and letters begin to emerge from the chaos on the big screen…
“N… C… M”
… And the arena erupts with the heavily synthesized tones and hard bass of ‘Through This Pain (You Heal)’ by Faderhead, combined with a shock of intense white strobe lights that punctuate the darkness. As the beat continues, a single spotlight shines into the crowd and finds Non Compos Mentis himself in the stands! Over the roar of the PCW fans the vocals kick in, and the ‘Born Psycho’ walks intensely through the crowd toward the ring.
“I disrespect you, dissect you, reject you,
The second you start to speak,
I try to see you, low-key you, and be you,
But you are way too boutique for me
You celebrate the world's mistakes
Cause you're so idle, you can't fail
You celebrate your worst mistakes
Cause you're an "idol" - you can't feel”
Jerry: Non Compos Mentis, on his way to the ring to take on Phinehas Grimm. Both men physical fighters but with subtle nuances in their styles. What do you make of this, Ace?
Ace: Well, you hit the nail on the head for once Jerry. Both men like to be rough and tumble but with slight differences. I’d say Grimm would be more likely to be technically slanted whereas NCM might be quicker to initiate a down-and-out no holds barred brawl. I don’t know, these two ARE quite similar in styles. Kelli?
Kelli: It's gonna be like watching a Godzilla movie!
Jerry: What?
Kelli: You know, the thing where Godzilla is like RAWR and Mothra or whoever is like SCREEEEE and they just duke it out in the middle of Tokyo?
Ace: This is - this is a pro wrestling match.
Kelli: Exactly!
Mentis hops the security barrier and begins to walk around the ring, taking his time to look over the thousands of fans in attendance before turning toward the ring.
“I can't heal you from the pain (Through this pain you heal)
And I can't keep you entertained (Boredom makes you feel)
I can't wake you like cocaine (Cause you're deep in sleep)
And I can't keep you entertained (Through this pain you heal)”
Slowly he climbs onto the apron and steps through the ropes into the ring. As the vocals of Faderhead climax the PA system shuts off with a jarring immediacy and the lights return to normal, leaving only the sound of the PCW Faithful. Mentis removes his jacket and throws it into his corner, then readies himself for the match.
Ace: Who're you hoping wins, Kelli?
Kelli: Aw, c'mon, that's not fair.
Jerry: Why not? She probably wants NCM to win, he did save her last time.
Kelli: Right, because "damsel in distress" is TOTALLY my thing.
Ace: He did save you though.
Kelli: Yeah, he did, but I don't have a problem with Grimm so... really whoever? I just wanna see a good show!
Sparse percussion resonates throughout the arena and is soon joined by a droning, distorted bass line. At that, A Perfect Circle’s ”Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” stomps out of the speakers and marches through the aisles. The drums, the distortion, the voices – all work to herald the arrival of Grimm.
Don’t fret, precious, I’m here. Step away from the window.
He walks out to a single blue-white spotlight, stops to bask in the light and shadows, and scans the crowd. The Lord of Misrule closes his eyes and sighs before making the long walk to the ring, ignoring the fans along the way. The spotlight follows. The words work their way up through the layers of the song.
Go back to sleep.
Phinehas climbs up onto the apron and slides in between the ropes. Hopping up onto a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down and casts a sideways glance at his opponent. NCM’s gaze has not left Grimm’s form the entire time.
Ace: All right. Let’s hear it: picks?
Jerry: I have to give it to Grimm, personally speaking. As World Champion, he’s going in with a great amount of not only momentum but PRESSURE riding on this match. As the champ, it’s the norm to put a lot MORE pressure on yourself than anyone else ... because it’s YOU who is the face of the company.
Ace: Maybe, but I see NCM as having more of a reason to come away with a victory. I mean, think about it. A non-title win over the World Champion is STILL a victory over the World Champion. It may not be for the title, but what a feather in the cap and what momentum moving FORWARD!
DING DING DING!
With a jarring trill, the bell brings everyone’s attention to the ring and the two gladiators within. Grimm and NCM begin to circle each other ... hungry looks exchanged between the two. Like two dogs stalking around a postman with MilkBone underwear. Things are about to get rough and the fans are eager to see it in all of its’ visceral glory. And with a bolt from the heavens, it begins. No tie-up. No stalling tactics or jockeying for position. NCM wades in with a heavy shot, with Grimm replying in kind.
Trading shots, it seems as though both men are swinging for the fences even NOW ... mere moments into the match. Imposing their will as only they can, asserting their dominance in the only way they know how. Neither man gaining an inch, it’s a slug-fest of legendary standards. These two titans of terror, NCM an icon in his own right ... squared off against the Hangtown Horror. The referee moves in to separate them, but in an INSTANT both men have shoved poor Charles Lim away in a single gesture.
Ace: Charles, it might be a good idea to stay out of this one. Let them punch themselves out and THEN try and control things. Might do you better in the long run.
Jerry: Agreed. God forbid Charles Lim gets too involved too quickly; he might walk out missing a piece of himself.
Kelli: *looking at her phone* Oh my GOD you guys HAVE to look at this baby chinchilla! It’s so CUTE!
Charles admonishes both men (from a distance, mind you) for placing their hands on him as the official in charge of the match itself ... but see how quickly he backs away from the warning. He knows full well that to step in between these two men would be absolute folly. It seems as though both men have been throwing haymakers that would level mountains for an eternity, and yet ... they falter none. But before long, the pace is slowed. Briefly. Long enough for Grimm to think better of wasting the entirety of his energy playing NCM’s game ... long enough for Grimm to get a knee into the gut of NCM.
NCM doubled over, Grimm manhandles NCM and shoves him back towards the ropes by way of a handful of hair. NCM forces back against the ropes, Grimm uses that handful of hair and forces NCM back against the ropes ... exposing his chest aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand CHOP! The plate of ‘chops have arrived! The crowd winces at the impact and Grimm offers them the second course, the sound of flesh on flesh sounding out sickly over the din of the crowd.
NCM retaliates with a forearm to the upper chest (maybe the throat?) of Grimm. Grimm staggered, NCM shoves him back even further before exploding off of the ropes and taking him down with a short and sweet double leg takedown. The back of Grimm’s head bouncing off of the mat, NCM takes the moment to his advantage and mounts the Lord of Misrule ... landing shot after heavy shot. Grimm turtling up ever so slightly, he manages to avoid one out of every three blows. What gets through, however, is enough to put any normal man out of commission.
Jerry: Some really pointed offense here, Ace. And not just from NCM, but Grimm as well. BOTH men are seriously looking to take the other man out.
Ace: I friggin’ love it, Jerry. Gimme a good old fashioned FIGHT any day of the week. None of this flippy-doo, reversing reverses mess. I want to see two grown men pound the snot out of each other.
Kelli: Eeeeeasy there, big’un. Getting a little worked up, are we? CAN WE GET ACE A TOWEL AND SOME LOTION? Commercial! Wait, can I call for a commercial break, Jerry?
Banter aside, Ace is fully correct in his assessment. Grimm manages to wiggle his way towards the ropes, pulling both himself AND NCM out onto the floor. Upon hitting the floor, both men are forced away from each other from the impact ... but the big surprise is neither man STAYS on the outside. They both back into the ring just as quickly as they exited ... even trading shots as they re-enter!
Both men back to a standing position, Grimm pushes the pace and whips NCM into the far corner but NCM takes the impact in stride and returns with a clothesline and a quick follow-up pin attempt. Not even managing to get a one count, he simply waits for the champion to return to his feet before wading in again. Grimm ready, he unleashes a foul headbutt that would stop a charging moose in its’ tracks.
Kelli: HA. Moose tracks. That’s an ice cream, Jerry. And NCM probably thinks he’s got an ice cream headache right now!
Jerry: ... how did you get moose tracks from that?
Kelli: The narrator said it.
Ace: ...
Jerry: ...
... achem. NCM clutching his brains from the outside, Grimm wades in with another headbutt but NCM is there with an inverted Russian Leg Sweep, dropping Grimm to the mat face-first. Both men now feeling the cranial pressures, it’s a few seconds before either can capitalize on the moment. No Carpe-ing of the Diem this time. NCM making it to his feet first, Grimm pulls the rug out from underneath NCM and sweeps the leg. NCM hitting the mat back first, Grimm goes to drop an elbow onto NCM’s chest straight away. Driving all the air from NCM’s sails, Grimm remains planted for a one count.
Dragging NCM to his feet, Grimm lands a boot to the gut followed by several quick punches and elbows. The Born Psycho back on his heels, Grimm is quick to press the opportunity to pull out even farther ahead. As NCM tries his best to create space, Grimm is quick to keep that space to a minimum as he bullies NCM into the nearest corner. This is dangerous, Grimm on the attack but with NCM backed into a corner like a caged animal. This could go really REALLY badly for either man.
Grimm smothers NCM with his own body, fingers clawing and scratching at NCM in the nanoseconds before Charles Lim can get in to assess the situation. NCM fighting like mad to get out of this predicament he finds himself in, his ferocity is on full display as he literally muscles Grimm backwards ... fighting like a salmon AGAINST the current. And for a brief shining moment, he succeeds. Grimm momentarily halted, he digs his feet in and stops any kind of NCM revival with a vicious rake to the eyes.
Ace: OUCH. Heeeeeeeere we go. The pleasantries have been done away with. NOW we’re getting to the meat and the potatoes.
Kelli: Let’s hope he doesn’t go for the meat and potatoes. I didn’t take enough Vicod - I mean, candy, for that kind of fighting.
NCM shoving Grimm way as he fights out of the corner trying to clear his vision, Grimm responds with a light headlock and begins to drag NCM’s eyes and the bridge of his nose along the top rope. The friction painful and sharp, NCM pulls away about halfway down the strand of rope ... his vision thoroughly buggered. Grimm taking advantage of a blinded NCM, he hops into the air with a nimble air and does his best to hook the head but ... DUM DUM DROP! NCM delays the Harvest long enough to drop to the mat with Grimm in a spinning side slam!
With a scramble of limbs, NCM is on top of Grimm with a roll-up. A very tight, cinched in pin attempt with both legs hooked.
1!
2!
3!
DING DING DING!
Winner: Non Compos Mentis via Pinfall!
WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!
The crowd is stunned. The announce team is stunned. Even Grimm looks stunned as NCM rolls off and out of the ring, away from the Hangtown Horror. Grimm on both knees, holding his head as he stares rather pointedly at the Born Psycho. NCM out on the floor, struggling to get to his feet with Charles Lim rolling to the outside to raise Non Compos Mentis’ hand as the victor.
Ace: Holy [censored]! NCM just stole one from Grimm! I can’t believe it. Just like that!
Jerry: Impact can happen out of nowhere, Ace. Maybe Grimm went for it a little early. Whatever the case may be, NCM has walked away with a clean victory over the World Champion!
Kelli: Aw hell, I go to get a bag of peanuts and things’ve happened. What’d I miss? Meat and potatoes?
Jerry: It really was a blink-and-you-miss-it situation. Bottom line, Kelli ... NCM has just defeated the World Champion!
Ace: Just one more commercial break, and we'll be RIGHT BACK with the main event!
Kelli: Otherwise known as Alexa Black's
Main Event
Singles Match
NO HOLDS BARRED BLOOD MATCH
Nathan Saniti (Tag Team ©) vs Alexa Black
Referee: Ed Lane
Singles Match
NO HOLDS BARRED BLOOD MATCH
Nathan Saniti (Tag Team ©) vs Alexa Black
Referee: Ed Lane
Jerry: Ladies and gentlemen this is the match we've been waiting for! This one promises to be brutal, Ace.
Ace: You ain't kidding. To say there is bad blood between Alexa Black and Nathan Saniti is like saying ice cream is cold. It's a bit of an understatement.
Kelli: You say that all casually like we don’t as a COMPANY have a reason to hate the ever loving [censored] out of that [censored]-ing [censored] with her [censored] encrusted [censored] and pus-weeping [censored]-y [censored].
Ace: *long, slow whistle* Impressive.
Jerry: *horrified stare*
"Black Widow" by In This Moment shatters the airwaves in the PCW Arena. Immediately, the fans clamber to their feet to jeer at the most hated woman in this fed's history. They shower he with rubbish as she pops through the curtain with a shopping cart full of various painful looking items. She strides down, never even giving the fans a sideways glace. She looks completely focused on what lie ahead.
Jerry: Looks like Alexa's is coming prepared.
Ace: Light tubes, a cast iron skillet, some burlap sacks filled with who knows what? I gotta say, Kelli. It looks like Nathan may be in for a rough night.
Kelli: *rude snort* Pity she didn’t pack any actual talent. I know Nathan. Alexa isn't going to have a fun night, either. She's pushed him to a point that even I’VE never seen.
Jerry: I feel sorry for Ed Lane. Poor guy has to officiate this.
The lights dim as synthesized chimes echo throughout the arena. Purple and green smoke carpet the runway as matching spotlight thrum to the beat of the drums of Imagine Dragons' "Monster." At the pinnacle of the ramp, the curtain pulls back, only revealing a silhouette with glowing red eyes. As the somber tune continues, the spotlights going out, a single floating candle ignites in front of the Mystical Madman.
Ace: Wow.
Jerry: Nightmare fuel.
Kelli: ♪ I tooold you soooo. ♪
The arena falls silent with a sense of awe, and perhaps fear. A chill fills the air as N. Saniti stalks down the ramp, never once removing his gaze from Alexa. As he gets to the ring steps, he grasps the candle, huffing it out as the lights return. What was once believed to be a candle is actually a rather large fistful of hatpins. Nathan's unshakable glower emulating from his darkened, sunken eyes, seems to have little or no effect on his opponent.
Alexa invites him in, twirling the skillet in her hand like a baton. Nathan, still staring holes into his hated enemy, slowly removes his coat, but leaves his hat where it is. Smartly, the ref calls for the bell and gets the hell out of Dodge. Alexa charges in with the pan, taking a hefty overhead swing. Nathan blocks the object with ease, thumbing the Black Widow in the eyes in retort. Alexa drops the skillet as she flails at her eyes. N. Saniti picks up the cast iron to answer with a swing of his own, but Alexa uses both hands to halt its momentum. The Angry Amazon struggles, but finally plucks the pan away from him. Both competitors back away, sneering their loathe for each other.
Simultaneously they close in, wrapping their hands around each others' throats and squeezing. Both competitors begin turning beet red before Nathan breaks off his grasp to free himself. He delivers a boot to Alexa's midsection, hitting the ropes for momentum and landing a running knee lift. N. Saniti slides out of the ring to search under the ring apron. He finally spies what he was looking for: an antique brass mirror. Sliding it into the ring, he positions it in the corner. Before he has a chance to utilize it, he spins around just in time to get a perfect drop kick to the chest. Falling like a cut tree, the back of Nathan's head introduces itself to the mirror with a shatter.
As a dazed Nathan attempts to shake the cobwebs and shards of glass, Alexa returns to her shopping cart, producing a bat covered in barbed wire and nails. She re-enters the ring, swinging for the fences at the Mystical Madman. N. Saniti manages to sidestep the brunt of the blow, but the wire gashes him on the chest, ripping open his shirt. Pale white flesh gains crimson rivulets as he does his best to escape the other swings. Alexa comes down with a haymaker, planting the bat to the mat with the nails. Nathan stomps the bat in its weak point, snapping it into useless rubble.
The Monstrous Madwoman doubles her fist, driving it into Nathan's fresh cut. The Mad Magician lets out a yowl of pain, but quickly answers with a knife edge chop to the woman's throat. Alexa drops to her knees, trying to remember how to breathe. Nathan puts some space betwixt himself and the evil lady as he resumes his search for another weapon, oblivious to the shards of mirror sticking out of his back. Reaching under the ring, he produces a sheet of plywood with a device attached to it.
Kelli: Um... What is that?
Jerry: No way!
Ace: It's C-4! That's an explosive rigged board! Where's Homeland Security?
Nathan slides the board into the ring, following close behind it. Still gasping for air, Nathan gathers Alexa, power slamming her onto the board. Alexa wails in shock and agony, splinters embedded in her back. Sadistically, Nathan strolls over, twisting the wood bits to add to the torture. Alexa responds by adding pressure to the shards of glass in the Mystical Madman's back. Nathan chops Alexa on her trapezius muscles to get her to stop. Finally, she relents, giving them both a bit of space.
N. Saniti reaches into his pocket, pulling out a strand of violently colored handkerchiefs. Wrapping them around Alexa's neck, he tightens the pressure.
Kelli: *uncharacteristically dark satisfaction* Good. Now the bitch can see what it feel like.
Ace & Jerry: *uneasy silence*
Realizing where she is in the ring, Alexa reaches down to grab a shard of the mirror, using it to cut the thing choking her. Before Nathan can react, Black buries the shard deep into his thigh. Alexa rolls out of the ring, returning to her cart as she gathers her wind. Haphazardly tossing the light tubes into the ring, they shatter, riddling the mat with debris. Gathering a burlap sack, she pulls the string open and spills some of the contents into the ring to join the growing junkyard.
Jerry: THUMBTACKS?
Ace: This is getting out of control.
Kelli: Dude, SERIOUSLY?
Ace: What?
Kelli: Everything you’ve seen so far, and it’s getting out of control with the thumbtacks?
She slips back into the ring, waiting for Nathan to notice her. Rocking back and forth in a three-point stance, she stalks her prey as he yanks the glass from his leg. Nathan blindly charges her, but she delivers a bulldog onto the amassed rubble face first. Tacks and bits of glass tube jut out from both gladiators as Black regains her footing. Saniti is slow to rise, his body a crimson jigsaw puzzle.
Black snatches up a fistful of tack and glass, rubbing them over Nathan's face while screeching in his ear. While he's blinded, she slinks out of the ring yanking a table out and placing it where it can be used. She starts to climb back in, but something else catches her attention. She bends down, a sadistic gleam in her eye.
Ace: Lighter fluid? SERIOUSLY? Alexa has lighter fluid? We need new security people.
Jerry: Well, it was no holds barred, and the Underground is a thing now, so...
Kelli: For her next trick, Alexa will use her opposable thumbs. It’s like she thinks she’s a people!
Black slithers into the ring, immediately setting up the table and dousing it with lighter fluid before striking a lighter to it. She collects Nathan, using her brutish strength to place her opponent on the top turnbuckle. Joining him at the second rope, the Angry Amazon attempts to heave him onto her shoulders, but Nathan blocks her. On the third failed attempt, Nathan gives his nemesis a mighty shove, sending her through the flaming table. Gathering his remaining energy, he yanks Black from the flaming wreckage to the center of the ring onto her stomach. Saniti reaches over, locking her arms in his legs as he sits on her back. Stretching his grasp, he collects a pair of mirror shards, shoving one in each side of her mouth as he slowly pulls back.
Jerry: Nathan's going for the Cheshire Grin!
Ed Lane scrambles to see if Alexa is ready to give up yet, but she answers to the negative. Growing impatient, Nathan releases the hold with a shove. He looks over to his beloved with a blood soaked face, asking for a steel chair. Kelli pops out of her headset long enough to get her lover what he needs. Nathan takes the chair to Black's back once, twice, three times, each time louder and more forceful than the last. Finally, he tosses the chair into the middle of the ring. Pulling the equally bloodied and battered Black to her boots, Nathan sets her up.
Kelli: UNREALITY CHECK! WOO! IT'S OVER!
Lane drops to make the three count.
1!
2!
3!
Winner: Nathan Saniti via Pinfall
Kelli removes her headset and hops up as "Monster" chimes in the victor. She races to give Nathan a hug. Carefully. They celebrate with a deep, passionate kiss in the ring, oblivious to the rising Alexa Black. Chair in her hand, Black lifts the seat above her head. Before she can strike, Nathan shoves Kelli out of the way, producing the flaming hatpins from his entrance. With the speed of a mongoose fighting a cobra, his hands dart to and from over every inch of Black's body. Frozen from the sudden intensity of agony, Alexa falls back to the mat.
Jerry: Did... Did he just shove a hatpin on every nerve cluster in Black's body!?
Ace: He's a man of his word.
Nathan reaches into his pocket one more time, this time pulling out a rusted paperclip. He spins on Alexa, beginning to kneel down near her face. Kelli softly stops him, coaxing him back to his feet.
Kelli: She's done, Nathan. You won. She lost. Stop. Please stop.
Nathan considers his beloved for a few seconds before handing her the paperclip. He then kneels down to the defeated foe.
Nathan: Cross my path or Kelli's ever again, and even she won't be able to save you.
He stands upright, his body wracked with pain. Kelli gently kisses his cheek, raising his hand in victory to an very appreciative crowd. Suddenly, the whole building rumbles as Nathan's face begins to change. His hair flashes from coal black and platinum to his normal untamed ginger locks. The hatred in his eyes pours out in a smoke-like substance, as it does from his mouth. More purple smoke snakes its way around the Mystical Madman as Dollface watches in shock. Finally, the smoke becomes a column as Nathan emits a primal scream.
The beam of substance drills its way into Alexa, her frozen body convulsing from the intruder. At the top of the entrance ramp watching the whole event unfold with severe interest is the Hobo King himself; Non Compos Mentis. As the tremor ceases, the restored Nathan, weary and tattered collapses to the mat, fatigued.
Ace: What the [censored] just happened?
Jerry: I dunno. His hair is orange again though, so that’s something.
Ace: I don’t - I can’t - what?
Jerry: Orange hair. That’s all I’ve got, man.
-CLICK-
Fierce Disco d. East Sutcliffe Gentleman's Club
Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith d. Nick Black & Jury
=Q= d. Scarlet Phoenix
Michael "Mr. Showtime" Wryght d. Justin Kaard
Non Compos Mentis d. Grimm
Nathan Saniti d. Alexa Black
Shoutout to my AWO Nathan Saniti , and my creative minions Non Compos Mentis & Loco ! You guys are great![/div][/i][/b][/div][/div]
