Post by Rick Majors on Mar 1, 2018 22:34:37 GMT -5
Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday, March 1st, 2018
Thursday, March 1st, 2018
As always, the crowd is the Pure Class Arena is HOT and ready for another exciting episode of Trauma. The camera pans across the Faithful for a moment before finally focusing on the announce team seated at ringside.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome once again to Pure Class Wrestling Trauma, I'm Jerry Andrews and we are on the final stop on the PATH TO MASS DESTRUCTION!
Ace Anderson: I'm Ace Anderson and, oh baby, what a show we have for you tonight!
Jerry Andrews: That's right, we've got some absolutely HUGE matches including our incredible main event!
Ace Anderson: A six-person tag match featuring all three Pure Class Wrestling champions doing battle with their Mass Destruction opponents! I can't wait!
Jerry Andrews: We have a stacked show and we don't have any time to waste, so let's get right to the ring!
Sasha Greene: The following match is scheduled for one fall!
The arena plunges into darkness. It feels longer than it really is, but the point is driven home. What exactly is going on? The lighting of sixteen candles answers that.
The pipe organ beginning of “Be Still for the Presence of the Lord” welcomes the faithful.
Sasha Greene: From Anaheim, California. Weighing Two-hundred and forty pounds, leading his followers to the ring along with Destiny Willard is SEROMINE!
Sitting on the stage in a custom wooden pew is SALVATION. As the angelic choir begins to sing the hymn, Seromine and his wife Destiny stand. Seromine, dressed in preacher’s garb straight out of the 1800’s, begins to slowly walk arm-in-arm with his wife. His wide brimmed black hat and black coat lend a severity to his appearance. She is in a very conservative, black dress (with same color leggings) that has a white collar and matching long bow tie and white cuffs. On her feet are black heels. She is also holding a bible close to her heart.
Flanking in stride are his Followers. The light from their candles shines the way to the ring. Each member of the menacing congregation is wearing a different animal mask. Their attire is best described as something inspired by Little House on the Prairie. Seromine stops to “bless” some of those close to the barrier as a mostly negative reaction churns from the crowd. The Followers make their way up the steps. They walk along the apron, and in three groups of four, surround the ring from the top and sides. Seromine lends his wife a gentlemanly hand up the stairs, holding the ropes for her as she enters, following quickly behind.
The cult spread their arms out to welcome GOD to the proceeding. Seromine and Destiny are brimming with pride as they do this. Joyed that the faithful can also share in the moment. Everyone lowers their arms in unison. Seromine removes his hat and coat, handing them to his dutiful wife, while leaving his white button-up shirt and black ribbon bowtie on. Following a kiss, he holds the ropes as Destiny exits to ringside, joining the Followers. They place their candles into metal candle stands. Seromine watches and waits for the sinner to come to the ring.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent…
He comes out from the back of the Audience in walks down the steps in high fives his Fans.
Sasha Greene: From Orlando, Florida. He weighs two-hundred and sixty five pounds, here is RAZOR BLADE!
Razor walks down the stops in Climbs over the barricade in stops for a min in hops on the apron in raise both of us arms in the air in get's down. His path into the ring is currently blocked by no less than eight followers. Razor Blade is hesitant to climb over, while inside the ring Seromine assures not only Razor, but also the referee, that his entry will not be impeded by the threatening force outside of the ring. Razor Blade re-finds his focus. He jumps down and enters free of harm AS PROMISED. Seromine offers a half hearted round of applause. Destiny finds humor in the situation. The followers put their focus on the ring as they begin pacing around. The referee gets the go ahead to ring the bell.
Singles Match
Seromine vs Razor Blade
Referee: Joseph Buckland
DING!
DING!
DING!
“Say your prayers, big dog!” yells the Serpentine Sermonizer. Razor Blade brushes that off. He moves towards Seromine only to find the preacher demanding the referee check something out first: Razor’s vest. Seromine makes his case known that he has weapons hidden in there that could put him at a competitive disadvantage. He starts laying out the rule book word for word to the referee himself, who doesn’t look enthused that he’s being told about his job. This draws massive boos from the faithful and the ire of Razor Blade himself, who has some choice words under his breath. Razor holds out his arms, allowing the referee to check for himself that he has no weapons tucked inside. Seromine is seen glancing towards all of his followers before having a pow wow with his wife. His eyes never leave Razor Blade while this happens. The referee summons Seromine over to tell him of his findings. Seromine looks to accept the ruling, going so far as to shake his hand for keeping things on the up and up.
But there is a grin on his face that indicates something devious under the surface.
Razor takes two steps towards Seromine but gets no further. Two followers have yanked his legs out from under him which brings the big dog down face first. Razor Blade is then pulled backwards so that he makes the split into the ring post. Razor roars in pain, while the followers move away from the ring. Seromine goes by the referee to quickly lay in an aggressive attack. Razor Blade is at the mercy of some vicious stomps to his head and heck. Seromine bends him at an awkward angle to lay in some stiff knees to the face, which goes right up to the five count. He then snaps the back of his head to the top turnbuckle. Razor falls face first again while his legs remain pushed past the ring post. Seromine drags him away by the length of his hair like he were a caveman. Razor Blade takes an inverted atomic drop for his troubles and a stiff spinning roundhouse kick to the teeth to knock him back down. Seromine poses as the boo birds come out in full force.
Jerry Andrews: Seromine once again proving that he is not to be trusted for any reason.
Ace Anderson: The people outside of the ring, the ones that MATTER, would disagree with that. Razor Blade should have known better.
Jerry Andrews: And so should you.
Seromine yanks Razor up as he taunts him directly in his face. “God spoke to me, sinner! He told me everything you had to say. It’s time to repent your ways!” Razor throws Seromine’s arms back with a show of power. Before the ring vet can recover, he is dropped with a thunderous right hand. He gets up and is dropped with a second. The third time he races in, he finds himself being gorilla pressed in the air. Destiny is shown pleading outside of the ring. Razor looks in her direction. Seromine free falls into a massive powerslam. Razor Blade waits for him to get up before he drops Seromine head over heels with a clothesline over the top rope. The followers are there to catch him however. They move away from the ring while placing their leader down onto his feet. Destiny moves close to him to check on his well being, as he favors his back. She shoots Razor a dirty look and if it could kill, he would be turned into a big pile of ash. Seromine’s temper begins to show as he has a few unholy words for his powerful adversary. The Serpentine Sermonizer rushes back into the ring and is bowled over with a diving shoulder block after missing with a lariat. Seromine is sent into the corner for a series of clotheslines that keep him sandwiched. Razor Blade then displays his power as he sends Seromine across the ring.
Jerry Andrews: This is more like it! Go Razor Blade Go!
Ace Anderson: Oh he’s going alright, Jerry. To hell. Seromine won’t win a match of strength here, but he has what Razor Blade lacks. Intelligence. He may be a ‘big dog” but the word ‘stupid’ is missing in-between.
Jerry Andrews: Will you stop?!
Seromine again favors his back. He catches Razor Blade flush in the face with both boots as he comes charging in. As Razor is stunned, Seromine scores with a discus forearm smash. Razor is pulled into a drop toe hold that sends him face first into the buckles. Seromine shoots to the far corner and returns with double knees to Razor’s back, crushing him in another awkward bend. Razor is pulled upright in the corner. After a nasty European uppercut, he changes places with Seromine. Razor scores with a flurry of counter punches. Seromine quickly thumbs him in both eyes and then a karate chop to the throat for his troubles. Seromine spins around with a release German suplex. Razor is propped on his knees. A shining wizard fixes that! Seromine rolls over for a pin attempt.
1!
2!
Barely even that as Razor presses Seromine in the air. He continues to favor his back as he rolls over to his wife. She reaches through the ropes to apply some quick TLC. It draws some laughs from front row fans, but neither Willard appear to have any fucks to give. Seromine pulls himself back up to keep on the aggressive front. Razor is run into the corner. A flurry of shoulder thrusts work his midsection over and continue to happen until he is worn down. Seromine then turns him around and unloads the same flurry into his lower back. “How does YOUR back feel now?” he is heard yelling. Razor is definitely hurting, but he manages to throw an elbow to Seromine’s big mouth, stopping any further chatter. Seromine shakes it off, but has his suplex attempt blocked. He switches to kicking Razor behind his knees and then transitions into some sort of quick neckbreaker, again, it tests Razors flexibility. Seromine pushes him against the ropes. Razor reverses an Irish whip. He lowers his head. Seromine rolls over him and in the process waist locks Razor. He rushes him to the ropes and scores with a roll up that gets converted into a high angled German, which crunches Razors neck into the mat. Seromine keeps the bridge for a second pin attempt.
1!
2!
Razor Blade again kicks out with force, but a full two count transpires. Seromine releases him and looks unimpressed with the speed of the count. The referee offers his thoughts and prayers about it. Not really, but Seromine would likely think that. His lips snarl with evil intent as he slowly turns his head around to Razor Blade. Seromine moves between the ropes, but remains on the apron. He starts to recite The Lord’s Prayer while waiting for Razor Blade to get up. He does. Seromine springs himself off the top rope. Cyanide Punch! NO! Seromine is cut in half with a spear! That converts the negative energy into positive quickly. Destiny slams her hands on the mat, pleading with her husband to get up. In the blink of an eye, Seromine takes a palm strike that spins him around into a Samoan drop! Razor Blade is unable to fully engage in a comeback as the damage to his torso catches up, but he is now in the driver’s seat. Seromine is sent to the ropes, scoop powerslam! He rolls for the corner. Razor comes in with a running forearm smash. Seromine staggers out. When he turns around, SUPERMAN PUNCH! Spit goes flying in the air. Seromine remains STANDING! He does the crucifix pose while telling Razor to “PRAISE SEROMINE! PRAISE THE LORD!”
...TIMBER!…
Seromine falls flat on his face. All that is needed is some chalk to outline his body with. Razor moves in to score a pin of his own. Destiny watches in complete horror, while the followers start to become a little more active around the ring.
1!
2!
Kickout! The fans disappointment is noted. Destiny is elated, as can be heard by the taunting she does.
Jerry Andrews: I thought we were going to need a defibrillator for that bit...woman. Razor Blade almost scored a massive upset there!
Ace Anderson: Exaggerate much, Jerry? Seromine is just playing possum. Razor Blade is allergic to winning like Tony Romo was when he had the Cowboys in the playoffs.
Razor Blade has Seromine going into the corner again. He climbs up for ten shots to the head, each one counted along with by the fans. Seromine doesn’t allow him to step down on his own. He surprises Razor by shifting him into a stun gun. Razor gasps for air after snapping back. Destiny races over and with a pair of assistants, drags Seromine out of the ring. The referee starts the pair of ten counts. Razor shows signs of life by six, Seromine by eight, in the ring by nine. He picks his spot. Razor is sent crashing down with an STO. Seromine basks in the GLORY OF GOD as he seemingly picks up a second wind. Razor Blade is dropped with a spinebuster. Seromine kips up as he follows by heading up top. FIVE STAR FROG SPLASH! Seromine lands across Razor, but he is holding his stomach. The referee makes the count.
1!
2!
KICKOUT! Seromine slams the mat in frustration. Pain or not, he is up like a bolt of lightning and in the face of the referee. Thinking better of getting himself disqualified and finding no further discourse to argue the count, Seromine returns to a harmonious base by offering up praise for the job the referee is doing. He even “apologizes” for his own behavior. Seromine pulls Razor to his feet. He sends him with an Irish whip. Seromine is caught off with a leaping clothesline! Seromine rolls to the ropes as he lays his head across the bottom. Destiny again weaves her way over, but is unable to do anything. Razor Blade dips into enemy waters for a DRIVE BY! Or it would have been. Seromine rolls himself away from the ropes in the nick of time. Razor Blade hits the edge of apron hip first. He finds himself being aggressively ripped between the middle and bottom rope. Seromine unloads a flurry of stinging knees to his right temple. A few can be heard as they apparently connect with his jaw instead. Seromine looks like a man possessed. He rips Razor Blade to the middle of the ring. A NASTY short-arm clothesline collapses the big dog. He peels him off the mat and into an equally devastating DDT. ASHES TO ASHES.
Here come the boo birds again as Seromine hits his finisher. He rolls over for the count and what should be an easy three.
1!
2!
3—NO!
The match CONTINUES. But not because Razor Blade kicked out. But rather because Seromine decides he’s not finished yet.
Jerry Andrews: What is he doing?! Seromine had this match won! This man is on the same cancerous level as Alexa Black!
Ace Anderson: You may not know what he’s doing, Jerry. But he and God does. If I were you, I would start accepting him as YOUR Lord and Savior!
Jerry Andrews: I would rather go on a date with your mother, Ace. Put that down in your notes.
Seromine looks around with sinister glee. He motions for a microphone. Destiny hands him one moments later. Seromine looks out to HIS faithful. Now to Razor Blade, putting a few good boots to his ribs because he can. Seromine crouches down in front of him. The followers clasp their hands in prayer. Razor has his hands being forced together. Destiny raises her arms to the heaven’s above. Seromine moves the microphone to his lips.
“Titus 1:3. But hath in due times manifested his word through preaching, which is committed unto me according to the commandment of God our Savior. We pray for your soul, Brother. As I prepare to deliver you to oblivion, may it be known that your sacrifice is a direct message to her.”
Seromine stands up and begins singing “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!” before tossing the microphone out of ring. While continuing to sing he hits...a RIP TIDE?!
Jerry Andrews: That’s an insult to Brenna Gordon!
Ace Anderson: It’s not like she’s currently using it…
Seromine rolls Razor Blade over and once again gets a pin.
1!
2!
3!
and that’s how he wins the match. Be Still for the Presence of the Lord resumes playing as Seromine gives the glory to God!
Sasha Greene: Here is the winner of the match, Seromine!
He rolls out of the ring to an embracing Destiny. The two masterminds are beside themselves with joy as they begin to depart ringside with the followers.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, Seromine was victorious here tonight, but he's got a big battle lined up for Mass Destruction as he's set to collide with Brenna Gordon!
Ace Anderson: We just saw him reference Brenna but, unfortunately, no one has seen her in several weeks.
Jerry Andrews: That's right, you'll recall that Seromine and Gordon battled through the crowd to close Trauma a few weeks ago, but that was her last appearance in PCW and no one in management knows where she is. Apparently several executives and road agents have tried to get in touch with Brenna Gordon and none have been successfull.
Ace Anderson: It pains me to say this, but that Follower army that parades around with Seromine must have had something to do with.
Jerry Andrews: That's what I think too Ace, but apparently Seromine denies any wrongdoing.
Ace Anderson: I mean, we kind of have to believe him then, don't we?
Jerry Andrews: Sheesh.... we'll be right back.
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall, and it is our opening contest! Introducing first, she weighs in at 110 lbs... ARICA "TROUBLE" LEWITT!!
Jerry Andrews: Miss Lewitt is out here solo tonight, no sign of her running buddies High Tide or Wasp.
Ace Anderson: And STILL no hint of what the connection is between them, besides some vague talk about a PCW Order. Or what Razor Blade has to do with them. Or... anything.
Jerry Andrews: Well one thing we do know is they've set their sights on the Underground division and upended things by force, including with some strong showings against the Underground Champion Dominator and Miss Lewitt's opponent tonight.
Ace Anderson: I mean, true, but Lewitt didn't fare so well when she was up against the big sumo last time. She has quite a mountain to climb if she's doing this herself!
Jerry Andrews: Do you see any look of trepidation on her face?
Sasha Greene: And her opponent from Tokyo, Japan standing 6”6 and weighing in at 500 lbs accompanied by his manager Alexa Black ... He is “The Destroyer” HIROSHI YUKIO!
Hiroshi Yukio steps through the curtain his face lit up with an evil smile followed closely by Alexa Black who loudly proclaims his greatness to the camera.
He walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back for the mountain man from Japan.
He waves mockingly to the crowd which pisses them off even more as he walks and when he sees a kid at ringside and holds up his sign and rips it in half then laughs
As he 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.
He goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope and into the ring After he does he does a purification ritual by throwing salt in the ring to cleanse it before the match.
The music fades out as Hiroshi stays in the ring waiting for the bell.
Singles Match
Hiroshi Yukio vs Arica "Trouble" Lewitt
Referee: Nigel Gale
Jerry Andrews: Four hundred pounds weight difference. Comparitively we could put four Arica Lewitts together and still not get a Hiroshi.
Ace Anderson: I'll bet she's wishing right now that she brought those extra bodies, or some added muscle. This is going to be a test.
Trouble taunts Hiroshi immediately after the bell rings, but Hiroshi is not aggravated by her gestures. She beckons for him to make the first move, but Hiroshi takes a step back and seems eager to allow Trouble to initiate the start of the match.
Jerry Andrews: Amazingly, Trouble is not intimidated in the slightest.
Trouble feigns a kick, which Hiroshi flinches at to produce a blockade in front of his face with his hands. Trouble quickly dives at Hiroshi and dropkicks the leg of Hiroshi. The giant sumo is struck, but simply hops on one leg, able to keep his balance. Trouble grabs Hiroshi as she gets back up to her feet and goes for a side Russian leg sweep, but Hiroshi elbows the side of her head once, but misses the second as Trouble plants Hiroshi, the back of his head smacking against the mat. Trouble is back up, delivering a series of knee drops to the chest of sumo Hiroshi before following up with a standing moonsault splash on Hiroshi. The cover... is kicked out of before it starts. Hiroshi isn't even winded as he brings his bulk back to an upright position. Finally, Hiroshi takes a step towards Trouble and swings a punch, but it is blocked by Trouble’s arm with great speed. Trouble kicks Hiroshi in the thigh, causing him to stumble a little before Trouble connects with a right hand to Trouble’s face, but the angry Hiroshi suddenly surges forward with a lariat, knocking Trouble off her feet. Trouble quickly rolls back up and narrow misses a low roundhouse kick by dropping down to the mat once again. Trouble reaches back and grabs the leg of Hiroshi , rolling backwards to wrap his own legs around one of the gargantuan legs of the near five hundred pounder, before taking him down with a legscissor takedown.
Hiroshi is flat on his back, but Trouble still has her legs wrapped around Hiroshi’s massive trunk as she applies a modified scissored anklelock. Hiroshi squawks in pain as Trouble Trouble yanks away at the ankle with one hand, whilst pinning Yukio’s other leg between her arm and side. Hiroshi tries to prise his leg free, finally able to slip the foot away before driving the sole of his Hiroshi foot right into the face of Trouble! Hiroshi shuffles back, able to escape from the leg lock before gingerly getting back up to his feet. Trouble doesn’t let that kick to the face keep her down for very long. She quickly pushes herself back up to her feet and notices Hiroshi’s distress. Trouble runs at Hiroshi , springing into the air and wrapping his arms around Hiroshi’s head. Hiroshi tries to counter, but the momentum sends Hiroshi spinning 180 degrees before Trouble jerks the big man’s head downwards, hitting a tornado DDT! She covers...
The referee: One... Kickout, with authority.
Jerry Andrews: A fast pace to this match with Trouble assuming control early on.
Ace Anderson: No surprise there.
Jerry Andrews: Trouble may have the aggressive edge, but Hiroshi’s strength and mass form a very strong form of defense, almost armor against her attacks. If this turns into a battle of stamina, I would say that Hiroshi will have the advantage.
Ace Anderson: You really should think before you speak, because what you’re saying is a load of garbage. Trouble is wearing the big man down!
Trouble is quickly back to her feet, undeterred by the early kickout. She waits for Hiroshi to begin sitting up again, hitting a quick dropkick to the spine just as Hiroshi sits back up. Trouble continues the assault with more strikes with her knees followed by a kick to the side of the head. Hiroshi rolls onto his front, trying to shake the cobwebs and get back up to his feet. Trouble runs at the ropes and jumps onto the middle one, springing back at Hiroshi and wraps her legs around his head. She spins around Hiroshi, but Hiroshi refuses to go down. Hiroshi continues to spin around and around in a circle, using the momentum to lifts Trouble up onto his shoulders before drilling her into the ground with a spiral powerbomb!
Jerry Andrews: Such innovation from Hiroshi, turning the hurricanrana into a powerbomb!
Hiroshi looks a little dizzy, stumbling slightly as he gets back up to his feet. He hits a couple of foot stomps to the torso of Trouble, before placing his foot across her ribcage and stepping onto her. The near 500 pounder is standing on top of Trouble, who struggles to breath due to the sheer weight on top of her. Eventually, Hiroshi steps off Trouble and turns to face her, before jumping up and crashing down on top of her with an elbow drop to the chest! Shoulders are down.
Jerry Andrews: Trouble has been engulfed!!
Ace Anderson: That is a lot of mass to be buried under. Apropos of nothing, my favorite Stevie Nicks song popped into my head, "Landslide".
Jerry Andrews: That was low hanging fruit there.
The referee: One...
Two...
And a kickout from Trouble Trouble. Hiroshi goes to grab Trouble by the head, but Trouble rolls her legs up over her chest and boots sumo Hiroshi right in the face. Hiroshi stumbles backwards into the ropes as Trouble gets back up, but Hiroshi surges forward and swings a clothesline. Trouble ducks underneath it as Hiroshi runs at the opposite ropes, rebounding from them and going for a flying forearm. Trouble is almost flattened, but is able to duck at the last minute. Hiroshi sails over the top of her and crashes to the mat. Trouble has to thank all her lucky stars she just avoided the collision with the mack truck that just flew at her and she takes some heaping lungfuls of air, scarred and traumatized. But then she looks up, and sees her moment coming. Slightly winded, Hiroshi gets back up to his feet holding his chest, but Trouble takes him down with a flying double knee press, a la Sasha Banks! Trouble rolls off top of him. Hiroshi remains grounded as Trouble is back up to her feet. She heads for the turnbuckle, quickly ascending it. She checks Hiroshi’s position in the ring and dives with a moonsault. It connects, hitting its mark!
Ace Anderson: Trouble’s got him! She is bringing the fight right to the big man, this is amazing!!
Jerry Andrews: I think Trouble is making believers out of many of the people in the crowd.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout!
Ace Anderson: What? Come on ref, judge your time right! That was THREE!
Jerry Andrews: Not according to the official! The match continues.
Trouble does not look overly surprised that Hiroshi managed to kick out, but gives him a punch to the face for good measure. She picks up Hiroshi and shoves him backwards into the turnbuckle, unloading with various karate kicks that strike Hiroshi all over his body, from his thighs right up to his head. Trouble climbs between the ropes and goes up top once again, grabbing Hiroshi in a headlock before diving from the top rope with a diving nckbreaker, drilling Hiroshi’s head into the mat at the same time. Trouble with another cover…
The referee: One…
Two… Hiroshi get shis foot on the bottom rope.
The referee quickly informs Trouble, who angrily grabs Hiroshi’s leg and thrusts it down to the mat with frustration mounting.
Jerry Andrews: Trouble is starting to lose her cool here.
Ace Anderson: She cannot afford to blow her lead here, she has run circles around Hiroshi.
Trouble grabs Hiroshi by the head and hauls him up onto his feet with a bit of difficulty. Hiroshi sways as Trouble shouts out that it's time for Super Trouble, yet her yell only seems to forewarn Hiroshi, who grabs the leg of Trouble as she goes for the superkick. Hiroshi suddenly hoists Trouble into the air by one leg, before slamming her back down with a shin breaker. Trouble hobbles away, the pain from that move seemingly excrutiating. sumo Hiroshi looks to take advantage, he runs off the ropes, looking for the battering ram headbutt that is the Osaka Overdrive, but Trouble sidesteps and shoves him forward into the ropes. Hiroshi rebounds, this time his headbutt hits its mark, Trouble folds up like an accordion at the force of the impact.
Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi is back on the offensive. Do you STILL think Trouble is going to win this, Ace?
Ace Anderson: I believed in something for once, and the universe crushed my expectations quite well. I shall never give false hope again!
Hiroshi does not go for the cover, instead taking time to taunt the crowd. He holds his arms up arrogantly, turning to each corner and shouting "Show me respect!" as Alexa Black pounds the mat and tells him to get back in the fight. Suddenly, Trouble leaps at Hiroshi and goes for her patented kick, but Hiroshi is somehow able to duck beneath it. Trouble lands on her feet, but Hiroshi suddenly grabs her from behind and locks in a standing cobra clutch. Trouble is screaming, flailing her free arm in agony as Hiroshi has the hold firmly locked in, lifting Trouble off the ground as he flings Trouble around like a rag doll.
Ace Anderson: Get out of it, Arica!
Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi might have this match wrapped up!
Trouble thrusts her leg back, able to kick Hiroshi in the thigh several times. The force and consistency of the kicks force Hiroshi to lower Trouble onto the ground to ease the strain. Trouble sees her chance, backflipping over Hiroshi’s head whilst still locked in the cobra clutch, countering into a beautiful reverse neckbreaker! Huge counter from the veteran. Trouble looks like she can't believe she got out of that one, gasping harshly, and she shakes her arm out as she crawls forward. She takes another few moments to recuperate. Hiroshi has now managed to regain a vertical base as Trouble uses the corner turnbuckle to pull herself up. Like a freight train, Hiroshi charges towards Trouble and squashes her in the corner with an avalanche. Trouble is winded, she stumbles forward before falling back and leans against the turnbuckle. Hiroshi moves back towards Trouble and grabs her by the arm, dragging her out of the corner before lifting her up into the air, both hands supporting Trouble as Hiroshi lifts the young girl into the air.
Jerry Andrews: What strength! WHAT STRENGTH!
Ace Anderson: That’s like eight feet up in the air!
Hiroshi seems to pant a little as he holds Trouble up in the air with both arms outstretched. Hiroshi takes one large stride towards the rope before launching Trouble high into the air… and CRASHING TO THE OUTSIDE!
Jerry Andrews: GOOD GOD! TROUBLE MAY HAVE BEEN BROKEN IN HALF!
Ace Anderson: NO! COME ON, Trouble! GET UP! GET UP!
Trouble is reeling on the outside, but Hiroshi is climbing the turnbuckle. Looks like this sumo is going to fly! Hiroshi looks down at Trouble , who is still completely incapacitated as a result of that vicious gorilla press over the top rope. Hiroshi stands on the very top turnbuckle, judging the distance to Trouble below. Finally, he leaps off the ring post and goes for a splash… NO! TROUBLE NARROWLY AVOIDS IT! HIROSHI CRASHES ONTO THE OUTSIDE!
Ace Anderson: YES! YES! YES!
Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi took a big risk and paid the price! Now both of these competitors are down on the outside!
Alexa smacks her forehead in gobsmacked disbelief at what she's just seen. The referee has been forced to evacuate the ring for the time beingin order to check on both competitors. There is no sign of blood on Trouble, yet his job is made much more difficult by the bulk of Hiroshi's frame. Before he has a chance to examine further, Hiroshi slowly pushes himself up onto all fours as Trouble reaches up to grab the lip of the ring apron. Lewitt motions towards Hiroshi, battered and bruised from the missed splash. Hiroshi goes to grab Trouble by the head, but is instead met with a punch to the gut. The big man keels over a little, but tries to battle through the pain and soldier on, but this time he is met by a toe punt to the sternum, followed by a double axe handle to the back, knocking him to one knee. Trouble grabs Hiroshi by the arm and goes for an Irish whip towards the steel ring steps, but the giant hunkers down and holds his ground. Trouble tries to muster all the strength she can, but Hiroshi is sitting firm. Suddenly, Yukio yanks Trouble towards him and hauls him up onto his shoulder, catching him so that their heads are virtually side by side. Hiroshi begins to run towards the ring post, aiming Trouble’s head towards the metal. At the last possible moment, Trouble slips behind Hiroshi and shoves him face first into the post, a loud metallic “bonk” on impact causes the crowd to wince.
Jerry Andrews: Oooooh!
Ace Anderson: I'm not sure if the skull would break or the steel would, there.
Hiroshi stumbles around, dazed and holding his forehead. Not knowing where he is. Trouble gets a running start and gives him a modified bulldog in the aisle, driving him onto the ring apron, compounding Hiroshi's head issues. Hiroshi is so injured that he can only hold on to the apron, trying to recover and shake the cobwebs out. Trouble stubbornly grabs a massive, giant leg and begins trying to muscle him up so that she can roll him in the ring, but he kicks her off. Trouble avoids a swipe of a clothesline, rolling into the ring, and taunting him to come and get her. Hiroshi, blindly starts rolling into the ring, coming after her but as he gets up he intercepts Trouble's foot, which is bad times as she brings the other foot around in a spinning heel kick which catches Hiroshi on the jaw.
Jerry Andrews: Trouble suckered Hiroshi in and made him chase her right into that Heel to Heel Kick!
Trouble covers...
The referee: One...
Two...
Thr- Kickout!
Trouble is beginning to look frustrated with Hiroshi, who has so far been able to break every pinfall that she has attempted. Trouble waits for Hiroshi to start making his way to all fours again, but she climbs onto the second turnbuckle, playing to the crowd in a bratty sort of way, and when Hiroshi is getting up Trouble grabs his head, flipping over him and driving him down with a shiranui.
Jerry Andrews: Trouble From Above!
Ace Anderson: She completed it! I can't believe we saw it in action!
Trouble scrambles to hook whatever much of Hiroshi's thick leg she can pull up for a cover. Alexa Black is on the outside yelling "No! No!!"
The referee: One...
Two...
Three - Kickout!
Trouble cannot believe it! Her head is in her hands before tugging on her hair with anger. She glares angrily at the referee. He assures her that Hiroshi kicked out. At length, after some back and forth between Arica Lewitt and the official in which she shrieks at him and gives him a rude gesture, Hiroshi is starting to stir. Trouble is trying to pick up Hiroshi once again, his dead weight is too much. Hiroshi shoves her away and stumbles, falling backwards and unable to keep his footing. Hiroshi slumps in the corner, blinking and trying to regain his composure as Trouble analyzes the situation, trying to think of a different tactic. She backs away and charges at Hiroshi, connecting with a corner splash. Trouble darts back as Hiroshi sways wearily, stumbling forward. Trouble goes for a Super Trouble, but Hiroshi is able to evade it. The momentum of the swing of her leg sends Trouble spinning a full rotation, which gives Hiroshi the break he has been waiting for. He grabs the smaller opponent by the side, lifting her and then crushing her with a lifting pumphandle reverse STO.
Jerry Andrews: Hiroshima Hammer connects!!
Ace Anderson: But Hiroshi may be too out of it from the repeated shots to the head!!
Jerry Andrews: Come to think of it, his eyes do look glazed and unfocused.
Hiroshi is in a seated position after the last move, trying to rub some sense into his head. Alexa pounds on the mat, yelling at him to stay focused. Finally she is able to divert his attention back to the matter and he goes for the pin.
The referee: ONE...
TWO...
THREE - Kickout!
Hiroshi rolls over onto his back, his face a mask of exhaustion, pain from the blows to his head and shock. He rolls over to the side of the ring to Alexa, holding his head and complaining to her. Alexa is adamant that he get back in the fight and finish Trouble off. Hiroshi confers with Alexa a little bit longer and then he gets to his feet, only to be caught by a running bicycle knee from Trouble! Alexa, complicit in holding Hiroshi's attention for too long, throws her hands up in horror. Trouble motions that this is the end, pulling Hiroshi in a facelock. Alexa jumps on the apron, trying to get into the ring and throwing a fit as Trouble struggles with the dead weight of Hiroshi. The referee flings his arms and makes Alexa get down right that second or she is out of there, standing by the ropes as Trouble is still struggling to walk Hiroshi over. However, Hiroshi throws Trouble off, and Trouble nearly collides with the referee over by the ropes as she stumbles back into the corner. However, Trouble uses this as an opportunity to get up on the turnbuckles. Trouble locks her arm round and leaps off driving him down with a corner tornado DDT. As she swings she accidentally kicks the poor ref right in the face and he crumples like a sack of potatoes.
Ace Anderson: Oh no the ref is down!
Trouble looks at the fallen Yukio and then out to the Faithful before deciding to hit the top rope.
She gingerly climbs up to the top rope looking to hit a big move to swing the momentum in her favour and maybe put Yukio away.
Ace Anderson: Trouble’s going up!
Jerry Andrews: This is a high risk move can she pull it off?
Just as she looks to jump off, Alexa Black gets involved and climbs up onto the apron screeching at the her. As she does this Braddock jumps the guard rail and looks to capitalise on the distraction from Alexa.
Ace Anderson: Damn it! Where did he come from? Braddock shouldn’t be here at ringside.
Jerry Andrews: Well unfortunately the ref doesn’t realise he’s here.
But before Braddock can do anything High Tide and Wasp rush from the back and stop Braddock.
Ace Anderson: This has gotten completely out of control! People are fighting everywhere!
Jerry Andrews: We need security out here to separate this lot and keep them from causing any more disruptions!
Sure enough, security rushes out and separate Tide, Wasp and Braddock and take them away to separate areas of the PCW arena. Trouble is still in position to hit Yukio from up high.
But then....
The huge mystery lady from last week appears knowing full well security is detained with Wasp, Tide and Braddock.
Ace Anderson: Oh crap... It’s her again! That’s the same amazon from last week who put Derek Cosmos in the hospital. And this time there isn’t security to stop her!
Jerry Andrews: But who is she here for this week and why? I don’t really see a pattern to these attacks. She hasn’t said a single word to anyone at all. Is she a mute?
The lady steps over the guard rail and makes a beeline for the ring. The referee is distracted with the competitors on the outside of the ring. Rolling under the bottom rope she strides over and grabs Trouble before slamming her off the top rope HARD. She crashes to the mat and rolls in pain.
She grabs Trouble slinging her into the ropes and catching her on the rebound with a high pop up Samoan drop.
Jerry Andrews: Oh god this isn’t good.
Ace Anderson: No shit Sherlock. This gigantic lady has already laid waste to one PCW star and she looks to make it two tonight.
Hiroshi has risen back to his feet but doesn’t try to stop this lady he simply stands there watching in curiosity.
The stranger climbs to the top rope and soars off crushing Trouble with a violent splat as she connects with a nasty frog splash.
Ace Anderson: Jesus Christ! That could cause internal injuries.
Jerry Andrews: What the hell is this lady’s problem?
Alexa returns to the ring clapping and smiling then Hiroshi joins her.
Ace Anderson: What the hell is this?
Jerry Andrews: Is she part of their alliance?
Ace Anderson: I think so.
The lady shakes both their hands as the faithful jeer and boo as loud as they can.
Ace Anderson: Look at the size difference between Alexa and this lady. Alexa is 6”0 and 200 lbs and not a small woman in her own right which means this lady has to be at lest 6”2 and at least 260 lbs.
Jerry Andrews: She makes Alexa look average. But the scary thing is they're working together.
The mystery woman leaves but Alexa and Hiroshi stay to finish the natch. The referee finally turns his attention back to the match and he immediately escorts Alexa away from the ring. Trouble slowly struggles to her feet, only to be thrown out of the ring by Yukio. And then, Hiroshi drops to one knee, holding his head and yelling in pain. The multiple consecutive hits to the head seem to have taken their toll. He is gritting his teeth too much to even concentrate on going out after Trouble, although, he waves a concerned Alexa Black off when she shouts questions to him. The referee has recovered in the meanwhile, and he looks to Hiroshi with some concern, but Hiroshi yells at him to count Trouble out.
Jerry Andrews: I am so lost on what is going on... the referee doesn't know what to make of this either.
Ace Anderson: A mysterious, dark woman, who's like an evolution of Alexa Black on steroids, just came and laid waste to Trouble while her friends were dealing with Braddock. Beyond that, I'm in the weeds as to any of this.
The referee: One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
Jerry Andrews: But what does this woman want? And why this match?!
Ace Anderson: Pay attention, Trouble is out of the ring, and Hiroshi is willing to take the win.
Five...
Six... Trouble is starting to stir on the outside, pulling herself up to all fours...
Seven... Trouble looks up at the ring, still dazed and uncomprehending...
Eight... It seems to dawn on Trouble that she is in danger of being counted out, and she quickly begins tottering to her feet.
Nine... Trouble speeds into the apron, trying to reach in and make the break...
Ten!
Ding Ding Ding
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner as a result of a countout... HIROSHI YUKIO!!
"The Rising Sun" plays over the PA as Hiroshi finally gets to his feet. Trouble collapses into the aisle, holding her face in her hands inconsolably, unable to believe she just missed breaking the count. Hiroshi wipes his face and holds his arms up, yelling at the crowd to show him respect. Alexa Black comes into the ring, applauding Hiroshi, while also on the lookout for any of the parties that interrupted the match.
Jerry Andrews: You have to give a big assist to the interference in this match. Hiroshi pulled out one over a very game Arica Lewitt tonight!
Ace Anderson: Yet the war between Trouble's running buddies and Hiroshi continues, and still we have yet to get answers on any of this. I hope some will come soon.
Alexa Black and Hiroshi Yukio exit the ring as Trouble pulls herself up, looking around the crowd, who are giving her a show of respect.
Jerry Andrews: Wait, wait, wait, wait..... Wasp and Tide are back!
Wasp and High Tide make their way back to ringside and they confront Alexa and Hiroshi. Trouble slowly gets back up and joins in.... but she's attacked from behind by a returning Braddock!
Ace Anderson: Now Braddock is back too!
The two rival sides battle it out at ringside as the show head to commercial.
Jerry Andrews: This is chaos! I feel like the issues between these two teams are far from over! We'll be right back!
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, we are back on Trauma and, yes, we know you were promised a one-on-one match between PCW veteran Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith and newcomer Brittany here tonight but, unfortunately, the action on this program has been a little too intense and we're running short on time.
Ace Anderson: That's right. We want to make sure that there is more than enough time to show our main event without worrying about the show ending before the conclusion of the match, so PCW officials have decided to move the Crazy Boy vs Brittany match-up off of the card tonight.
Jerry Andrews: Don't worry though, those two competitors will certainly get a chance to mix it up on a future show.
The now familiar sound of a Zippo lighter snapping open, paper and tobacco sizzling followed by a deep breath in echoes over the fans. The lights go dark.
“NO TOR I OUS!”
A distant roll of thunder moves closer and then silence before every fan is jolted to their feet by a bright white flash and crack that rattles their empty chairs.
“NO TOR I OUS!”
“SO NOTORIOUS!”
The arena lighting awes all in attendance with a multicolored, rock concert style show, keeping tempo and beat with Adelita’s Way. The crowd sings along as the bass rocks the very foundations of the Pure Class Arena. The Faithful are mixed and divided in their cheers, chants and support for Johnny Matthews and the Pure Class Wrestling North American Champion, Justin “Stormm” Michaels. Neither allow their fans to wait long as Michaels is the first to crash through the curtain onto the stage. Matthews satisfies the anxiety of his heathens, exploding through the curtain with a cigarette burning in his Cheshire grin.
While Matthews saunters out onto the stage, taking his steadfast position at the top of the ramp, Michaels amps the crowd by pumping his arms and singing along with the fitting new rock hit. Michaels has both the International and North American Championship title belts stacked on his right shoulder, reflecting the lights above. Matthews has his intent lock on the ring shaded with dark sunglasses. The most expensive network liability standing side-by-side, bumping fists, with the most costly legal nightmare in the legend of Pure Class Wrestling.
Professional wrestling’s Man in Black, just that; black Harley¤Davidson Badlands tucked under the boot-cuts of his Timberlands, leather belt, with the Official PCW “Notorious: Widely, Yet Unfavorably Known” T-shirt under a dark western-style shirt. He has a microphone in the right, rear pocket of his jeans.
Sports entertainment’s Force of Nature is ready to go in his Havoc orange and white wrestling attire. He accompanies his gear with the other official PCW “Living It Up...Not Giving A #&@%” Notorious shirt in black, white, and orange. The censored word of the saying on the back of the shirt is covered by the International and North American title straps.
Michaels remains on the stage, amping the crowd on each side while Matthews starts down the ramp. He stops frequently, on both sides, to bump fists, shake hands and kiss babies. At the foot of the ramp, Matthews pauses for pictures and accepts two cans of Bud Lite from a fan in the front row. Flipping ashes about, he thanks the young female with a hug and poses for a selfie. At ringside, Matthews ascends the ring steps and wipes his Badlands on the apron.
While his brother-in-law cracks a can of beer and proceeds to drink it on the apron, Michaels starts down the ramp. Since returning, Stormm hasn’t physically interacted with the fans closest to the ramp on his walks to the ring, but this time was different, he seemed different. With his free left hand, while his right was holding onto his titles, he exchanged some slaps and high fives with choice fans as he made it to ring side.
Though, it was back to business at ringside as he circled around to the back, gave his traditional nod towards the broadcast team, and hopped up onto the apron. Climbing between the middle and top ropes, the Force of Nature entered the ring first, Matthews would follow right behind Michaels, ducking between the same ropes as his Notorious partner.
While Michaels goes to the far corner, bounds up on the middle turnbuckle and holds both title belts above his head. Matthews takes his usual place, in the center of the ring, and pulls the microphone from his back pocket. Michaels drops down to the canvas and leans in the corner, waiting with his Notorious partner, for the mixed emotions of the crowd to subside. Matthews brings the microphone to his shaded glare.
“Hey, Chump,” Matthews begins, “despite the fucking thing getting shattered,” he pauses, smirking at the far corner, “you're welcome.”
Matthews did not earn any approval from the crowd with his salutation, the jeers were resounding. He couldn't have cared less.
“Don't worry, Kyle,” Matthews sarcastically assures, “as I learned last year, Grimm has a way of forcing a man to get his shit together.” He pauses, puffing a cloud of smoke into the shot, “The pieces may not fit together quite right,” he pounds the coffin nail, “I mean, Hell,” another hard drag, “when he's done with you, there may even be some pieces missing.” The cherry of his cigarette glows, “Little bits of you, Kyle,” he releases the smoke through his nostrils, “just fucking gone.”
“That loss to Grimm,” Jerry Andrews comments, “has really gotten to him.”
“He's definitely not the same guy that went into Collision Course challenging the Hangtown Horror,” Ace Anderson adds.
“But!” Matthews shouts, “We don't have the strap he's after any longer so,” both of his eyebrows go up, “good fucking luck with that.” Matthews walks to the ropes nearest the entrance and addresses the ramp, the stage, the locker room, “While you are facing yours,” he wrinkled his forehead, “I am going to raise my own kind of Hell in the Underground and take my rule over it.”
“Johnny Matthews will challenge Dominator at Mass Destruction,” Andrews reaffirms.
“I'm going to bring a level of chaos and catastrophe that only I can,” Matthews promises. “The Underground lacks a certain confidence,” he pauses to smirk, “a particular flavor of charisma.” His expression, slightly demented, “Dom is too,” he air-quotes, “well-oiled,” he chuckles, “he is punctual and that makes him predictable.”
“Everything Johnny Matthews is not,” Anderson comments.
“I just have to fuck up his timing. I have to knock him,” again, the air-quotes, “off-beat” Matthews, grinning ear to ear, “you know what it's called when you go off beat?”
Matthews leaves the crowd, the televised audience and everyone backstage waiting as he burns the smoke to the filter. He drops it and grinds it into the canvas with his boot. The production truck pans out, then goes far left as he pulls his shades from his face, folds them up and hangs them from the neck of his shirt.
“It's called an arrhythmia, Big Guy,” Matthews pats on his heart as the angle zooms in. “That's how I'm going to kill your reign,” his emerald greens, paralyzing, “and take my throne. Tick, tock,” he wags his index finger, “thump, bump,” he pats his heart, “boop... boop… boop...” his eyes roll up, into the back of his head, “bee...eee...eee...eeep!”
“And then,” Michaels yells stepping into the center of the ring.
“Long, live” Matthews huffs and puffs and he speaks, “the fucking King.”
Then, he takes a bow, handing the microphone to Michaels in the process. They share a laugh, cackling like hyenas, before Matthews retires to the corner to enjoy his second beer.
“You know,” Justin leads in, “any other day, I’d stand here and start spouting off about this, or that, and do what I can to really get under the skin and into the heads of everyone about to enter the ring.”
“Something we all know too well.” Anderson scoffs.
“But with Mass Destruction just a couple weeks away, and this typical PCW cluster of a booking tonight, I think I’ve said enough over the last two months.” The Force of Nature pauses for a moment as the crowd pops slightly, and he hops down off the top turnbuckle, where he’d been perched. “If I haven’t irritated, frustrated, overwhelmed, astounded, chilled, or thrilled at least one if not all three of those men about to walk out here, then I haven’t done what I came back to Pure Class Wrestling to do.”
“His actions at Trauma 226 certainly were jaw-dropping, Ace.” Jerry announces.
“So come on down Dominator, have your words with Johnny,” The Man in Black flips a bird towards the ramp at the mention of his pay-per-view opponent. “Come on down Kyle Shane, repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat, repeat stuff, and continue to prove to the faithful here that you are as linear as the video games Grimm will send you crying back to.”
Taking his right hand off of the title belts draped over his right shoulder, Stormm points towards the rafters as a familiar 8-bit song plays over the PA system, and there are mixed reactions from the crowd, but those that recognize it have a good laugh.
“Is that?” Ace ponders.
“Sounds like the game over music from Mike Tyson’s Punch Out.” Jerry confirms
With a smile on his face, and the crowd calming back down, the Force of Nature presses on. “Oh, and let’s not forget about my opponent for Mass Destruction, either.” He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “So, last, and certainly least, Tyler Scott, come on down, and tell all these people about how winning that worthless little tournament has entitled you into thinking you’re good enough to take MY title away from me in two weeks.” Over in the opposite corner, Johnny throws back another drink and laughs at the mere thought of Stormm losing the title at Mass Destruction.
“I thought he said he didn’t have much to say?” Anderson questions as the Force of Nature moves the microphone back towards his mouth, but shrugs it off and drops it to the mat, going back to his perch on the top turnbuckle.
“We’ve heard way less out of Stormm before in the past with many more words. If anything, that was as to the point as he’s been since returning to the ring last year.” Jerry admits as the lights dim and the PCW-Tron goes black.
With the sound of a sharp nib scratching across a ragged sheet of parchment, a sepia-toned cursive scrawls grimm across the screen. The name flickers, wavering in and out of focus with the occasional tracking glitch as if projected from an old forgotten film canister uncovered on the bottom shelf in the cellar. 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 the Hangtown Horror.
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 takes a deep breath before making the long walk down the ramp, deadset on the ring and ignoring the fans along the way. Grimm watches the Notorious Duo standing in the ring, but his eyes flit hither and yon as he approaches. One can’t be too careful in Pure Class Wrestling, especially with a match lineup like this. The spotlight follows. The words work their way up through the layers of the song.
Go back to sleep.
Phinehas climbs 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 waits….
…nope, he moves to the center of the ring and produces his own microphone from a back pocket. He looks again at Matthews and Stormm, and nods. Grimm raises the microphone, but before he can speak a flash of expressions passes over his face. Disgrace / disgust / rage / sadness / indifference…and finally, the calm that passes all understanding. The cold focus that all have come to expect from the Hangtown Horror. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. Walking to the ropes, Grimm hands the microphone to a ring attendant without a word.
Now he waits.
Can you feel it coming? Can you feel it coming?
'Switchblade Smiles' by Kasabian gradually rises in volume to announce the arrival of Tyler Scott. The lights dim and flicker as the crowd react with alternative waves of boos and cheers.
Move back this wrecking ball,
Rips through the blackest hole,
Violence is coming. It's coming. It's coming
However, as Tyler Scott appears through the curtain, the boos surpass the cheers. He pauses at the top of the ramp and takes a moment to adjust the strapping around his wrists and direct a few abusive words to the front row crowd. A quick turn of the wrist and crack of the knuckles and Tyler continues his descent down the ramp. He heads to the ring, climbs through the ropes and walks to the centre where he stands and stares intensely into the crowd. He mouths a few obscenities before circling the ring, glancing at everyone who is already waiting for the match.
The lights slowly fade to black. Flashes of cameras give intermittent glimmers of the darkened surroundings. There is a moment of silence as the crowd awaits with anticipation. The Tron slowly illuminates with the image of a ticking clock as the opening rift to TRIVIUM’s cover of “Losing My Religion” echo throughout the arena. The crowd suddenly comes alive as the guitars make themselves heard. Horacio Mortimer appears on the stage, holding out his arm in an expression of beholding. As the first verse begins to play, he finally appears on the top of the stage…
…DOMINATOR…
The Zenith glares towards the crowd massed to his left, then to his right before slowly raising his left arm into the air, revealing a gold plated watch that envelopes his wrist. There are no showers of orange sparks this time, the music simply fades at the very second that Horacio Mortimer begins to lift a microphone to his lips. Justin and Johnny look at each other in the ring, rolling their eyes.
“Permit me to act as the bearer of bad news,” begins Horacio, haunting conviction consuming his voice. “The ink is now dry. There is no turning back. You have sealed your own fate, Johnny Boy,” he hisses. “I will admit, you have challenged The Zenith in ways that nobody in the past six months has. Dominator can dismantle the likes of Crazy Boy, High Tide, Hiroshi Yukio and Razor Blade on any day of the week. But you, Johnny… you possess a certain ‘je ne se quoi.’ It is as though you have blurred the lines between tomfoolery and reckless abandon. It is only natural, therefore, that you would delude yourself into thinking that you even stand a ghost of a chance of dethroning MY Zenith.”
The audience is encapsulated. Hanging on each and every one of Horacio’s words, his vocal prowess combined with Dominator’s sheer hulking, formidable figure seem to make them the perfect combination.
“We are going to make an example of you, Johnny,” Horacio beams. “In spite of everything that you’ve TRIED to do to us, Dominator is still standing. With all of your sneak attacks, your misdemeanours and your general lack of respect, he still stands before you, ready to do battle. You have been a thorn in the side of The Chronological Order since you made it your business to do so,” Mortimer frowns suddenly, but then shakes it off with a mischievous chuckle. “But I can at least credit you for lighting a fire within him. By having someone such as you challenge him in such a way, it prevents him from growing complacent. While I cannot commend you for your methods, I can at least appreciate your enthusiasm and dedication to get what you want. And while you might think that you have my client’s number, that you have outsmarted and outmanoeuvred us at every turn, in truth, all you have succeeded in doing is digging your own grave, ready to be lost to time.”
Horacio pauses for a moment, nodding to Dominator, who closes his eyes to draws a deep breath, before exhaling venomously, staring daggers through Johnny Matthews.
“That is why I have discussed this matter at length with my client and the booking committee alike,” he grins. “The fact of the matter is, Dominator is The Underground King. It is his throne that you wish to usurp. A true king seeks to better himself as well as his kingdom. That is why we want this challenge to be precisely that… a challenge! My client will not only conquer The Forces of Nature, but he will also conquer the element of his mentality that is most under siege. And it’s all thanks to the fact that you enjoy playing with ladders so much.”
Everybody on the ring seems a little bewildered. Dominator takes another deep breath.
“That is why, at Mass Destruction, the Underground Championship will be contested for by the reigning King, The Zenith, Dominator, against Johnny Matthews…”
He pauses once more for dramatic effect.
“...in a Ladder Match!”
The crowd erupts into cheers. Dominator, in spite of his vertigo, remains composed. Calm. Motionless. Almost trance-like. Meanwhile, Johnny Matthews is simply smirking to himself. He truly seems to believe that this stipulation will be of a greater deficit to the reigning champion; his victory already sealed.
“Don’t look so smug just yet,” Horacio grins. “There is still a match to be contested here tonight. And I’m sure that Dominator is not the only man who wants a piece of you tonight…”
This segways into the distinctive opening call of “In The Morning and Amazing” by Circa Survive hits the PA and Kyle Shane comes walking out onto the stage. He’s dressed in his ring gear, complete with the NCR Ranger duster he wears over it, and he has spread in his hands, holding proudly a fully repaired Pure Class Championship World title belt. He grins across the yard at Johnny Matthews and Justin Michaels, before setting the belt across one shoulder. He has a mic in his hand now, produced when he placed the belt, and he pokes the faceplate of the championship belt when he he starts making his way to the ring, talking as he goes.
Kyle Shane: Good as new. Am I childish for that, Stormm? Am I showing how childish I am that I undid all of the damage you tried to do to this championship?
The music is starting to fade out but Kyle continues talking.
Kyle Shane: As when I introduced a replica title while you were holding on to the World title, in your vast overkill of bad and outdated ideas, spraypainting it and jettisoning it on a globetrotting safari, what I have here is simple rejection of your little games.
He holds up a hand in the understood “One moment” gesture.
Kyle Shane: Now I know you’re going to say otherwise. Like last Trauma, and the weeks before that, and the weeks before that, you shrieked at me, you said I HAD to be sweating you, I HAD to be bothered by what you were doing to the title. That I was CHILDISH and you were making me look like such a little fool with your games. And yet, you’re the one that fucking stopped playing the instant, no the SECOND I didn’t play it according to your rules. You’re the one that threw a tiff, like the little bitch boy of the neighborhood who takes a ball and goes home, and threw the belt down in a tantrum, saying I DON’T WANNA PLAY WITH YOU ANYMORE!
He shakes his head in amazement.
Kyle Shane: And you dropped the belt from the rafters. You “broke it” inasmuch as you can break something that is a corporate property that can easily be replaced. You want to know the real joke behind the whole charade, I could have gone to management and had them give me a whole new belt at any single time, when it was stolen or when it was broken, and had them fix things. Your actions meant utterly - NOTHING. And now look where we are. I’ve got the belt again, right where it’s going to stay, and until the point where you have to jump me from behind and steal it again because you’re not able to win a match, that’s where it’s going to stay.
As Kyle is coming right up to to apron, he taps his forehead, face crinkled up in an ugly look of hilariously mocking consternation before he snaps his fingers and has a revelatory smile of inspiration. Then he mockingly turns his back to Michaels and Stormm in the ring, making sure to hold the belt behind his back outstretched in one hand, a tempting prize for someone who likes to cheapshot.
Kyle Shane: As a matter of fact, I’ve got my back turned to you again and the belt is right in my hand, why don’t you steal it again! ...Cause you won’t ever be able to actually BEAT ME FOR IT.
When Kyle turns back to the ring, his face is set in stone, and his eyes are piercing, flinty and angry. He then pulls himself up to stand on the apron.
Kyle Shane: But when I stand here with this championship belt, renewed, put back together, in it’s rightful place I want you to know that this isn’t some “Childish” look of me not wanting to play with you, Stormm. This is me at my most focused and serious telling you, I am setting right every wrong that has been done to this championship in the recent past, both by you two idiots…
He turns, staring intently and very, very, intensely at Grimm.
Kyle Shane: And to me, personally for the times you’ve beaten me. I’m not going to shy away from it, Grimm. You had my number in 2017. Much like Matthews there had a come to Jesus after losing to you at Collision Course, I had my moments of despair. I had my moments where after I lost, I picked myself back up and I questioned what I would have to do to get myself over here in Pure Class Wrestling. But Grimm, I’m here to tell you, and I want you to look at me with those cold, dead eyes and you look into mine. And I’m just going to let those tell you what I can’t articulate, even in 20,000 words. That I am renewing. That I am fixing the mistakes. And that I am coming into our World title match with something you have never seen before. With the new belt, comes a new desire for me to earn my stripes. And beating you is the one Achievement I have yet to unlock here and I don’t care if it kills me to do it. You’ve been my bogeyman long e-God damn-nough and I WILL bring you down. Come Mass Destruction, I’m going to show you why 2017 ended up being the best year I’ve ever had… and why there is still so much more to come in this renewed 2018. That is my word.
Jerry Andrews: More fireworks than the Fourth of July taking place. Mass Destruction may happen tonight at this rate!
Ace Anderson: Hey! Fans should have to pay to see this match happen then, or else their channel should be blacked out!
Jerry Andrews: How greedy of y---wait, actually, we have to head to commercial!!!
During the break, someone decided to be the first to cross the line and ignite warfare. Chaos thy name is Johnny Matthews. He took upon himself to introduce his right fist to Kyle’s face. The God of Game responds in kind, but with more than just one shot. Dominator blows by his partner to get his hands on Matthews himself! He runs him completely out of the ring to continue the fight. Michaels and Tyler square off, while Grimm has grabbed an advantage over Kyle Shane. The referee tries his hardest to get order instilled. The fans are loving every second of the fight as the show returns. Matthews is shown being force fed his cigarette, inducing him to cough up smoke. Stormm and Tyler Scott are trading shots not far away, and with two left in the ring, the bell can be called for.
DING!
DING!
DING!
Six-Person Tag Team Match
Kyle Shane (Pure Class Wrestling World ©), Dominator (Pure Class Wrestling Underground 🤴) & Tyler Scott vs Grimm, Johnny Matthews & Justin "Stormm" Michaels (Pure Class Wrestling North American ©)
Referee: Manny Cruz
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen we are back and WOW have things certainly heated up in the last couple of minutes!
Ace Anderson: The good news is that was the last break for this program, and we're going to do the best we can to not leave the air until this thing is finished!
Grimm continues to work over Kyle Shane. His pale and cold eyes piercing through the very soul of the World Champion. He cranks up for a head butt. Shane knows this game and has a cheat code ready for it. Grimm’s hard head meets top turnbuckle. Once, twice, three times effective. Grimm is thrown to the far corner. Back body drop! Kyle runs through him with a clothesline on way to a barrel roll suicide dive to Johnny Matthews! Kyle slides back in with the after burners on. Corkscrew plancha for Justin Michaels! Kyle takes a few moments to slap some outstretched hands. He gets back into the ring to block an incoming Phinehas Grimm.
The slippery as shit Kyle Shane dazzles with a right-left-right combo, forcing the Hangtown Horror to cover up the best he can. Kyle throws an underhook to the midsection for good measure. Dominator is shown dumping Johnny Matthews into the crowd before he makes his way over to his corner, where Tyler Scott already is. Stormm is left to find a way to get back up. Grimm is hit with a trio of suplexes. Kyle transitions into a brainbuster from there. He returns to his feet. Grimm is kept in enemy territory. Dominator gets the tag! The Zenith presses the ropes down and steps leg over leg into the ring. Kyle holds Grimm up for a shot. Dominator decides to give Phinehas a taste of his own medicine; a devastating head butt. It drops the six-time World Champion like a ton of bricks. Dominator notices that Notorious FINALLY are in their corner, albeit not in the best of moods or shape.
Jerry Andrews: I think Dominator is already picturing the things he is going to do with the ladder and Johnny Matthews carcass. I hope both have some sort of excellent medical care.
Ace Anderson: They’re going to need it. But will all the Kings horses and men be able to put them back together again?
Grimm is picked up seven feet in the air, being laid across one of Dominator’s massive shoulders. He rams him in the corner with sickening authority. A pivot into a running powerslam with some impressive air time. He isn’t done. Grimm finds out how strong the Underground Champion is. He hoists Phinehas in a delayed vertical suplex. Dominator keeps him held with one arm as he points at Johnny Matthews with his free hand. Another leap in the air and Grimm is driven to HELL with a jackhammer.
He wants Johnny Matthews. Grimm is tossed like a small child to his corner. Dominator pancakes him like a runaway freight train. He pie faces Stormm off the apron. Matthews looks ready to bail, but a giant meat hook of a hand throttles his throat. Dominator makes Grimm tag Johnny in. Phinehas is pushed through the ropes. Matthews...well Matthews is introduced with a chokeslam! Dominator lifted him off the apron like he was nothing, turned the hips and brought him crashing to the earth. Matthews is pulled up. He immediately looks for any way he can to get out of this predicament. A kick that looks a little low works. That may bring back bad memories for Kyle Shane. Matthews heaves while massaging his neck. After a quick snot rocket directly in Dominator’s face, he gives the big man a…
“HELL BOW” the crowd yells in unison.
Matthews notices his brother-in-law on the apron. The tag is made. The double team commences. Dominator is worked over in the ropes. He tries valiantly to power through, but it’s not in the cards. Johnny is forced to exit. Michaels charges across the ring to take a cheap shot at both Kyle and Tyler. That distraction allows the former Johnny Vivacious time to leap back inside. Dominator gets a face full of stinky, sweaty, deodorant-less armpit, Served Dirty! The referee has had enough. Matthews again is ordered out of the ring. Michaels returns to the action. The referee has to prevent both Kyle Shane and Tyler Scott from getting their hands on Stormm. Dominator is allowed to pull himself up using the ropes. Matthews decks him in the kisser. That leads to Michaels connecting with a Russian leg sweep.
Jerry Andrews: Well in a surprise, Notorious have worked together to cut down the redwood known as Dominator. Not a bad strategy, Ace. He can’t use his power if he’s on the defensive.
Ace Anderson: That’s what makes them smart. Something that was evidenced by their World Title scavenger hunt over the last few shows.
Jerry Andrews: But at Mass Destruction, Johnny Matthews won’t have anyone to help him.
Michaels reaches over and makes the tag to Grimm. A former stablemate during the Black Hand era. Together they help Dominator make a wish. Keeping the Suzerain of Time grounded is Grimm with stomps to the chest. He drops in for a blatant choke and the administering of a non-King Kong Bundy five count. Grimm breaks at two. He goes back to the blatant choke. A break at three. One more and the break at four. Audible applause can be heard from Notorious. Grimm looks back at them with a cold stare. Their sentiment means nothing to him. Matthews is heard trash talking Dominator as Grimm brings him to his feet. Johnny sticks his boot out. Grimm gives it a brief look and then moves Dominator away.
Four head butts rock the Zenith. Horacio is heard yelling how much time Dominator has been in trouble for. Phinehas hits the ropes. Tilt-a-Whirl backbreaker! Grimm quickly grabs his back. Matthews is beside himself with anger. Dominator works himself back up to a vertical base. Johnny blows through the ropes to go on the attack before Dominator can tag. The problem is his momentum pushes him to his corner. Kyle Shane is in! Matthews eats an Emblem Heartless! Kyle rolls through. Shoryuken for you, Phinehas Grimm! Kyle has something for Justin Michaels. He baseball slides out of the ring, grabs him by the ankles, and drops him face first onto the apron. Stormm is then grabbed by the back of his head and flung into the guardrail. “You’ll always be SECOND place, BITCH!!” Kyle emphatically lets him know. A red-hot Kyle Shane doesn’t slap hands this time, but fans are fully in his corner with chants of KYLE! KYLE! KYLE!
Dominator and Johnny Matthews have cleared themselves. Kyle has Grimm all to himself. He uses his speed to hit a springboard dropkick. Grimm is whipped to the ropes. He gets popped in the air. Light Arrow...NO! Grimm catches his leg on the fall. While on one foot, Kyle prevents any further action with an enziguri. Grimm falls flat on his face. Kyle drags Grimm over. Tyler Scott is tagged in for the first time. Grimm is met with a WOOO knife edge chop, slicing his chest open. He covers up. It doesn’t stop Tyler one bit. Grimm takes several more until he is in the corner. Tyler starts to stomp a mudhole in him. Phinehas is now seated. Tyler hits the ropes. Michaels pulls Grimm out of harms way, wagging a finger at Tyler.
Jerry Andrews: Who knows what would have happened had Tyler Scott connected!
Ace Anderson: Well let’s be thankful for---JERRY WATCH OUT!
Commentary is interrupted by the brawl for all of Dominator and Johnny Matthews. They tumble over the table and are showing no signs of letting up. Fans are whipped in a frenzy as papers and cables become casualties of their war. It spills into the crowd. Cameras lose sight of the action as they fight towards the back. Meanwhile in the ring, Grimm is working over Tyler Scott. During the mayhem, Justin Michaels offered assistance to swing things back in favor to his team. Phinehas gives a tag. In comes Stormm as he pulls Tyler Scott into a snap suplex. Scott is brought to one of the empty corners. Stormm buries a knee to the gut. An Irish whip...corner splash! Tyler staggers into a belly-to-belly suplex. Stormm keeps him pressed for a cover.
1!
2!
Kyle is there to break the count and sneak in a couple of boots. Stormm fires off some vulgar words at him as the referee gets Kyle out of the ring. Scott is sent to Stormm’s side of the ring. Grimm is there to wrap the tag rope around his neck. Tyler frantically tries to get his fingers under it. Stormm cuts him off with a running knee to the face. Grimm is tagged in. Tyler takes a bell clap. He slumps in the corner. Grimm brings him away only to send him sternum first back in. Michaels clocks him with a cheap shot to turn him around. Savate kick! Phinehas takes a momentary breather. Grimm’s stare to Kyle Shane is like six feet of signature shoveled dirt: dark and cold. Kyle smirks at the expression, showing that he is unafraid of the legendary wrasslin’ boogeyman. Phinehas is back on the attack as Tyler is the proud owner of head butt triplets. He fires a desperation uppercut. It buys him a split second of time, but not much else. Grimm hits a running back elbow. Stormm gets tagged in.
Jerry Andrews: I have received word that Pure Class Wrestling officials are dwindling in number. Matthews and Dominator’s war has raged all over backstage! Meanwhile, Tyler Scott finds himself in trouble at the hands of Grimm and Stormm.
Ace Anderson: Formerly known as Revelation, Jerry. Don’t forget that. Those two have been friends and enemies and are more experienced together than Kyle Shane and Tyler Scott.
Tyler finds himself being dropped with a double arm underhook suplex. Michaels, ever the technician, follows it with a Boston Crab! Scott yells in agony. Michaels has the hold set deep and away from Kyle Shane. Stormm looks directly at the champ with an aura of arrogance around him. He’s almost daring Kyle to do something stupid. Meanwhile, the referee checks for any signs of quit from the challenger to the North American title at MASS DESTRUCTION. There is none. Michaels keeps the pressure on. Fans are mostly pro-Stormm here. Kyle tries to turn the tide on that, but nothing doing. Feeling the submission isn’t going to happen, Tyler Scott is released. Stormm double stomps his back before the tag to Grimm happens.
Phinehas yanks Tyler up. Out of nowhere he runs his head into Kyle’s face, knocking him to the floor. Tyler is moved to the center for a Lament Configuration! Grimm feels confident about his chances. Hooking the leg…
1!
2!
Shane breaks that up and is back out of the ring just as fast. He favors the right side of his face, and is more than EAGER to jump in and light Grimm’s world ablaze. Tyler is hoisted sideways for a backbreaker. Another. Another. He’s propped over Grimm’s shoulders for an attempt at a Samoan drop. He fights it off! He may be hurt. He may be tired. But Tyler Scott is not out of this yet. Elbow after elbow disrupts Grimm’s equilibrium. Dragon Suplex! Tyler is quick to clutch his back from the effort, but it at least got Grimm stopped dead. Kyle slaps the buckles as hard as he can. His hand is kept outstretched for the hot tag. Tyler rolls onto his belly. He looks towards Kyle like one would a mirage in the desert. Inch by inch he pulls himself forward. Here comes Stormm!
GODDESS WHITE SWORD saves The Transgressor! Stormm rolls out of the ring. As does Kyle, but to his corner to resume cheering on his remaining partner. Grimm has him by the ankles! Scott slowly gets dragged away from making the tag. Tyler is pulled to his feet...Step-Up Enziguri! Scott throws himself forward. KYLE SHANE IS TAGGED IN! He hops over the rope. Clothesline after clothesline send the Hangtown Horror reeling. Leg drop bulldog! Springboard tornado DDT outside of the ring for Stormm! Kyle shoots back under the bottom rope. Sliding short reverse STO! Kyle has Grimm pinned.
1!
2!
3---Kickout!
Kyle brings Grimm to his feet. Phinehas catches him with a surprise Samoan drop. Both men are down. Commotion can be heard in the crowd. A battered Johnny Matthews and Dominator have brought the fight to the stage. Matthews seizes the moment by spearing the big man right through the LED panel! HOLY SHIT grow louder and louder as they cancel each other out. Back in the ring…
Stormm is now the legal man. Kyle is flattened with a Flash Flood. Stormm quickly grabs a cover.
1!
2!
KICKOUT.
Undeterred, he tries again, but with BOTH legs hooked.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Justin shakes his head. Just as he gets to his feet, he notices his brother-in-law literally crawling down the ramp with a trail of blood following him. Michaels returns to Kyle Shane. Stormm’s reverse DDT attempt is countered into a Northern Lights suplex. Stormm surprises the champ by maneuvering off the mat while waistlocking Kyle. Full Nelson slam---COUNTERED into a hurricanrana! Both men get up quick. Double clothesline!
THIS IS AWESOME! chants start.
1…
2…
3…
4…
5…
6…
The count is broken by a dazed Johnny Matthews pulling himself partially in the ring like a hero to the rescue. Medics race down to check on his condition. Dominator has found revival in the wreckage of the stage rigging in the background. Horacio tries his best to get him back to the match. In the ring, Tyler Scott nabs a tag. He cuts Stormm completely off. A trio of strikes is in the forecast: Palm, elbow and lifting knee. Stormm collapses against the ropes. He shoots Michaels to the ropes. Back body drop! Tyler hits the ropes himself and returns with a spear! Scott rolls onto his feet. He taunts Stormm while waiting. Michaels is up...Switchblade Superkick...AVOIDED!! Stormm drops his center of balance. Tyler is sent down with a powerbomb. Michaels finds a second gear to tag Grimm in. But he leaves Tyler in a prime spot. Stormm tackles Kyle Shane. Phinehas comes in as cleanup.
He hits the Harvest! Here’s the pin.
1!
2!
3!
And so ends a wild six man tag match!
Sasha Greene: Here are the winners of the match, the team of Grimm and Notorious!
Johnny Matthews and Justin Michaels high five each other, more than content with their victory. On the outside of the ring, Dominator pounds the ring apron, furious with the outcome of the match. Horacio attempts to soothe the savage beast, but Dominator is seeing nothing but red. He slides into the ring and immediately motions toward the center of the ring. Wisely, Stormm and Matthews slip out of the ring as Dominator takes a wild swipe at them. He grimaces, looking down at the man who has cost him yet another tag team victory. As Kyle Shane and Grimm simply stare each other down, Dominator scoops Tyler Scott up off the ground, whipping him into the ropes. Tyler stumbles forwards limply into Dominator’s clutches and delivers a devastating Anachronism!
Jerry Andrews: Dominator has snapped!
Ace Anderson: What a sore loser!
As Dominator stares down at the fallen Tyler Scott, he does not notice Matthews slip back into the ring. Behind him, Stormm is reaching under the ring and withdraws a steel ladder, sliding it into the ring. Horacio Mortimer screams at his client, trying to tell him what is transpiring. Matthews picks up the ladder and immediately charges towards Dominator. Before contact can be made, Dominator is shoved aside. Mortimer himself takes the shot from the ladder. He falls limply to the mat as the steel cracks against his ribs. The crowd winces at the way Horacio slumps to the ground.
Jerry Andrews: That‘s a rib breaker, right there, Ace!
Ace Anderson: He shouldn’t even be in that ring, Jerry. He’s not a wrestler. And if you play with fire, you’re going to get burned!
Jerry Andrews: All he was trying to do was protect his client from yet another sneak attack from the Man in Black. And he’s paid the price.
Johnny Matthews is almost in a state of shock, but before he can react, he is met with a Big Boot to the face from Dominator. The ladder clatters to the ground. Dominator starts wailing on Johnny with mounted punches. Stormm rolls into the ring and goes in to save his buddy, but is immediately tackled by Kyle Shane!
Jerry Andrews: All hell has broken loose! Kyle and Stormm are duking it out, whilst Dominator looks to exact some revenge of his own.
The brawl between Kyle and Stormm spills onto the outside. They trade punches left and right, circling the ring until they are up on the entrance ramp. Suddenly, Grimm decks Kyle with a right hand, knocking him down on the outside. Calmly, Grimm begins to circle the World Champion. Back in the ring, Dominator has yielded for a moment to tend to Horacio’s injuries. He rolls him onto his side; a recovery position of sorts. The crowd roars as Johnny Matthews clambers back up to his feet and runs at Dominator, his arm already levered upwards before thrusting his elbow down against the back of Dominator’s neck.
Crowd: HELL-BOW!
Dominator rolls across the mat and gets to his knees. Johnny Matthews is right there, draping Dominator’s arm over his shoulder…
Ace Anderson: Lonestar Stunner coming up, baby!
Jerry Andrews: But Dominator is over seven feet tall and almost four hundred pounds! Can Johnny Matthews pull this off.
Matthews salutes the crowd, but in wasting time, Dominator suddenly hoists Matthews up onto his shoulders. He locks in the Rip In Time. The crowd roars. Stormm suddenly slides into the ring and chop blocks Dominator. He roars in agony, clutching his knee as he impacts the mat. Stormm tends to Johnny. He quickly recovers, having sourced newfound strength now that he has his brother-in-law at his side. They begin to pick the bones of Dominator, kicking and stomping away at him. Horacio Mortimer remains coiled in the corner of the ring, clutching his ribs, helpless to anything. With that, Kyle Shane slides back into the ring and pounces on Stormm, but Matthews quickly drags him around and executes a kick to the midsection. He goes for a punch. It gets blocked. He’s met with another one from Kyle. Stormm gets involved. It’s complete mayhem! The Forces of Nature whip Kyle into the ropes, but instead of rebounding he catches himself. Matthews and Stormm charge, but Kyle ducks, pulling the top rope down to send both men hurtling over the top and to the outside. Kyle assesses their positions before leaping over the top himself, taking them both down with a Splash.
Without warning, Grimm pounces on Kyle once again, taking advantage of the bloodfeud Kyle has had with Stormm up to this point. From nowhere, Tyler Scott is back up on his feet. Not just up on his feet, but up on the top turnbuckle! He is sizing up Stormm below. He will challenge for the North American Title at Mass Destruction and, in spite of Dominator’s frustrations being taken out on him, he is still able to stand. Tyler Scott suddenly launches himself onto the whole crowd! Stormm, Matthews, Shane and Grimm are all taken down by a Moonsault. Scott is able to hold some serious hang time in spite of his injuries.
Crowd: THIS IS AWESOME! *clap clap clap clap clap* THIS IS AWESOME!
All competitors are down right now… but the one man who is moving is none other than Horacio Mortimer. He has managed to pull himself up. Dominator also begins to stir, slowly pushing himself up onto his feet. Mortimer, still holding his ribcage to try and support it however he can. He painfully reaches down, grabs the ladder, and slides it in the direction of The Underground King.
He stares at the ladder, wrapping his fingers around the metalwork.
As he stands up, so too does the ladder. Dominator opens it up, allowing it to stand in its inverted V shape on one side of the ring. He looks up, a little hesitantly. Slowly, the giant begins his ascend, taking his progress one step at a time. Slowly, he turns around on the ladder. It shakes ominously. Horacio suddenly grabs the ladder in a bid to stabilize it as Dominator looks down towards his target. Suddenly, Dominator hurls himself off the ladder, spreading his arms wide like a hawk, crashing on top of Matthews, Stormm and Kyle Shane, taking down all three as well as himself in the progress!
Jerry Andrews: GOOD GOD!
Ace Anderson: I guess time really does fly!
Tyler Scott is down!
Johnny Matthews is down!
Kyle Shane is down!
Stormm is down!
Grimm is down!
Dominator is down!
Jerry Andrews: This is chaos! What destruction!
Ace Anderson: But there’s even more destruction right around the corner; Mass Destruction to precise!
Jerry Andrews: What a night! We’re out of time, folks. We will see YOU at Mass Destruction.
- CLICK -
