Trauma 251 Results

[Rick Majors]

Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday May 9th, 2019

As always, the show opens up in a PACKED PCW Arena where the Faithful are on their feet ready for the show.

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Jerry Andrews and welcome to Trauma! What a show we've got for you tonight, isn't that right, Ace?

Ace Anderson: Oh yeah! The Icemann Invitational Tournament officially starts tonight and I can't wait!

Jerry Andrews: It's going to be incredible!

The banter from the show's hosts is cut off by Sasha Greene in the ring.

Sasha Greene: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...

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, Tyler Scott never appears through the curtain. His music is halted.

Jerry Andrews: Here we go again...

A school bell rings....the crows claps along with the clapping of the song matching its beat. A motorcycle normally emerges from the back, but not tonight His music as well is stopped.

Singles Match
Tyler Scott vs Cory Steel
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.

Jerry Andrews: Who got to them this week?

Ace Anderson: Who did you take in the pool?

Jerry Andrews (confused): I beg your pardon.

Ace Anderson (sings): I never promised you a rose garden. Eat your heart out, Lynn Anderson.

Jerry let's out an exasperated sigh.

Jerry Andrews: Let's just go to a commercial. Hopefully we'll have an answer when we get back.

An office door swings open. It leads to President Loki. The uninvited guest is none other than "The Anarchist" Jason Willard, who is dressed in his ring gear and approaching with news...

Willard: Loki! Loki! Come quick! There's been an assault in my dressing room.

Loki looks up with agitation from behind his desk. Willard throws his braids out of his face, exposing his faux concern.

Loki: You did it, didn't you? You've seen everyone else take them out and you decided this week would be your turn. By the way, try knocking next time. Surely your mother taught you how.

Willard ignores the request, but rolls his tongue around his mouth at the quip. He wants to respond, but his voice of reason compels him not to.

Willard: ME?! You think that I would do something like that to them??

Loki remains unamused by his histrionics.

Loki: We both know you would and did.

Willard: They look like they were beaten to hell with a baseball bat. Have you ever seen one in my hands? Don't think so. But if you insist on making baseless allegations against me, I'll be happy to slap a defamation lawsuit on you.

Loki brushes aside the threat. Willard rests his knuckles on his desk and in the process of leaning forward, begins losing his composure.

Willard: There is a man of shadows that roams these halls. He's responsible. He knows he can't win, so he's resorted to framing me in order to get a psychological advantage. Do your fucking job for once, before I remind the world of the reputation I have for sending pieces of shit like you into early retirement.

Loki scoots his chair back and stands up to confront the anti-authority figure in front of him. Willard again brushes his braids out of the way and appears ready to rearrange Loki's office with his face. Before things can go further south in exchange, he's paged by the lead trainer to go see what's happened to Tyler and Cory.

Loki: You aren't fooling anybody, Willard. You can call yourself whatever name you want, but you still have a contract with this company. I could fine, suspend, or even fire you for detrimental conduct. So if I were you, I'd get the hell out of my office and get ready for your match with Stormm. If you'll excuse me, I have to examine your handiwork and once again deal with the local hospital.

Willard slowly turns his head around as Loki leaves his office. Channelling his inner John Bender, he yells "FUCK YOU!" at the top of his lungs. His own exit comes after a swiping of Loki's desk name plate.

A cameraman is dispatched to the scene of the crime. Tyler Scott and Cory Steel are shown being wheeled out, all battered and bloodied. Loki is beside himself as a swell of officials surround him. He refuses comment to nosy interviewer, Shane Dodge. Loki steps away to make a phone call as the show moves on.

Outside the arena, a blacked out, sixty-seven Cadillac Coup Deville pulls to a stop in the parking lot. The engine rumbles softly while from behind the tinted glass, the bass from Ghostemane's song, “Nihilist,” thumps through the vehicles expensive sound system. The camera remains trained on the vehicle while it remains parked.

Ace Anderson: Nice ride!

Jerry Andrews: Yeah, but who is it?

The car idles for a few more seconds before both the engine and stereo are silenced. The driver's side door swings open silently and Holden emerges from behind the wheel. He is wearing an all black, baggy hoodie instead of his biker jacket as he shuts the door and heads towards the Arena.

Ace Anderson: You got your answer, Jerry.

Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross has arrived!

Ace Anderson: Tonight's Main Event is going to be brutal. All four men involved are sadists. I don’t envy the referee…

Jerry Andrews: But speaking of incredible matches, it's Icemann Invitational Tournament time!

Sasha Greene: The following is a quarter final match in the 2019 Icemann Invitational Tournament.. Introducing first, he weighs in at 184 lbs, from Staten Island, NY... DARREN "THE BOMBER" HUGHES!!

The tron features gritty footage of vintage classic rock bands. Darren runs out onto the stage, throwing a few chords of air guitar out to wind up the crowd. Hughes throws his fists in a pinwheel, head bobbing like an absolute madman and he runs off to the support struts and leaps up to push off the metal structure with his foot and keep up the high energy entrance.

Darren runs down to the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. Ready for a fight, he bounces his back to the ropes a couple of times and throws up a double-shooting gesture with his fingers to the hard camera, grinning and soaking in the crowd's cheers.

Jerry Andrews: The 2019 TIIT gets underway tonight, this is the first of two quarter-final matches.

Ace Anderson: The Icemann Invitational is always one of the highlights of the spring season here in Pure Class Wrestling, you can see returning faces, shocking upsets, and the brackets always promise a mix of unlikely favorites and strong contenders to get to the finals.

Jerry Andrews: Well, let's get to it, Ace, our first quarter-finalist is a man you may remember from his tenure in -

Ace Anderson: I've never seen this man before in my life.

Jerry Andrews: ...Are you sure? Because his biography says he was -

Ace Anderson (monotone): I have no knowledge of this person and or product.

Jerry Andrews: I'm going to assume you won't have kind things to say then.

Sasha Greene: And his opponent, he weighs in at 218 lbs, from Boston, Mass... KYLE SHANE!!

The opening notes of "In The Morning And Amazing" by Circa Survive begins to play. A video game drop down menu opens and the cursor hovers over the options, "LOAD GAME, SAVE GAME" before coming to the first option, "START GAME" and highlighting it. Kyle Shane steps slowly out onto the stage, wearing a full length pirate coat, matte black with red trim, and a hood reminiscent of Shay Cormac from Assassin's Creed: Rogue. Shane tilts his head back, holding his arms out. The distinctive voice of Anthony Green hits the bridge:

"And how could anyone
You are in my dreams
Half human, half machine
You with someone else that I have felt and seen
I cannot rest, or my consciousness contest
Looking right through the lens
From winter brings the spring again"

There are some that react negatively, annoyed by the flippy, arrogant, self-absorbed so-called Game Changer, but the vast majority of the fans in the aisle, having seen what he can do, rise to their feet in appreciation. Some on the sides of the aisles even make a fanning bow motion as Kyle walks by. 1/2 the way down the aisle, Kyle pivots, holding his arms up to either side of him. He climbs onto the apron. Kyle balances on the ropes for a moment, as he pulls the hood off, his normal, infuriating, arrogant smirk spreads across his face and he raises his eyebrow. He fluidly slips between the ropes, pirhouettes towards the entrance ramp and extends his arm fully out, his first finger and thumb pointed out in a pantomime of a cocked pistol, before he mouths the word "Bang" and lets the hammer down. Then he turns, removes the Assassin waistcoat and begins stretching for the match.

Ace Anderson: This may be a quarter finals match... but to Kyle Shane... We're in the Endgame now.

Jerry Andrews: You were just aiming for that Avengers meme potential, weren't you.

Ace Anderson: I wasn't, at all, it's one of Shane's catchphrases, look it up!

Jerry Andrews: Regardless, Shane has been on an absolute tear since losing the World Title at Mass Destruction, he has vowed to become Remastered, and completely eclipse his rise to the top from when he started in this company.

Ace Anderson: Well, his first step tonight is getting past the quarter finals.

Jerry Andrews: Right, but honestly, Darren Hughes is basically an unknown quantity at this point, and that may make things difficult for Kyle to predict.

Icemann Invitational Tournament Quarterfinal Match
Kyle Shane vs Darren Hughes
Referee: Joseph Buckland

Both men lock up in the middle of the ring with a collar-and-elbow tie-up. They jockey for position with Darren Hughes getting the upperhand on the lankier Kyle Shane. As Hughes goes for an armbar though, Kyle rolls through into a cartwheel, and he comes up, Darren tries to top wrist lock him, and Shane twists out of it and kicks Hughes in the hamstring. Hughes winces from it as he gets back up to his feet only for Kyle to nail him with a stiff jab to the jaw before going for a roundhouse kick. However, Darren manages to duck the lightning fast kick and follows it up with an arm drag. Kyle looks perplexed, half expecting to have already put Darren Hughes lights out with the Dead Eye, but Hughes points at his temple, and can be heard to be telling Shane "I told you I studied you!"

Jerry Andrews: Shane taken a bit off balance here in the opening moments.

Kyle, a bit annoyed, grits his teeth as he looks sideways at the audience. As Kyle gets up to his feet, Darren fires off a stiff kick to Shane's's chest, but the God of Game manages to block it and then brings Darren in from the momentum and slams his elbow into Hughes's throat. The Bomber clutches his throat in a world of pain as he stumbles away. Shane takes the opening as he bounces off the ropes before nailing a bulldog on his opponent. Kyle gets back up to his feet and helps Hughes up to his own before nailing a chop across Hughes's chest. Yet, Hughes starts fighting back with a flurry of fists of his own before sending Kyle to the ground with a snap suplex. Hughes floats feet before bouncing off the ropes and nailing an elbow drop across Kyle's throat. The God of Game clutches his throat in a world of pain as Hughes gets back up to his feet and drags Kyle with him. He slams his fist into Kyle's jaw once again before pushing him into the ropes and slamming his forearm into Kyle's chest a few times. He then goes to whip him across the ropes, but Kyle manages to reverse it mid-stride, and sends Hughes into the ropes. As the Bomber bounces off the ropes he goes for a flying crossbody only to be met by a dropkick to the midsection from Kyle sending him to the ground.

Jerry Andrews: Darren Hughes maybe took his eye off the ball, and Shane caught him.

Ace Anderson: You can see the worried looks Shane keeps giving him, though, Shane didn't expect this kind of fight in the early going.

Shane gets to his feet. He mounts on top of Darren Hughes and aggressively starts nailing him with forearm shot after forearm shot until Hughes is dazed. He pulls Darren by the back of the head and pulls him up to his feet before nailing him with an uppercut. Shane, taking the time to turn to the crowd now and wipe the sweat off of his brow in a pantomime of "Whew this is hard," and when Hughes starts pulling himself up Shane gives him an axe kick to the back of the head. He then walks over to the nearby turnbuckle and climbs to the top of it while Shane gets back to his knees trying to figure out what's going on exactly. As he gets back up to his feet and turns towards Kyle, the God of Game leaps through the air and connects with a dropkick that sends the smaller man to the ground. Shane then rolls over on top of Darren and goes for the cover.

The referee: One... Kickout.

Shane gets to his feet, attempting to pull Hughes up. Hughes breaks free with a kick to the kneecap and a bell clap that has Shane's ears ringing. An invigorated Hughes delivers an elbow and knee at the same time, seizing control of the contest and bringing Shane into the corner. He wound up and landed a stinging knife edge chop, sending Shane into a string of profanities so magnificent, the sentence will never be repeated. Hughes winds up and lands another knife edge chop, but like most sequels, the rant wasn't as good second time around. Shane shoves Hughes out of the corner and bolts forward like a mad man, but Hughes counters his momentum with a backdrop. Shane splats on the mat, groaning and holding his back. Shane, still cursing, picks his way up to his knees, holding his lower back. Shane spots the smaller man, and rushes at him, only for Hughes to intercept him and give him a monkey flip that sends Shane ass over teakettle, and crashing upside down into the corner! Shane hits on his neck and yells out in surprise and pain.

Jerry Andrews: Ace, what is your assessment of how Darren Hughes abilities have improved since his last PCW tenure?

Ace Anderson: I've got to give him this, he's really put a lot of work into his timing and - Heyyyy I told you I didn't know this guy from Adam.

Jerry Andrews: Sure, sure.

Kyle lays on the mat and, gripping his aching neck, has a hard time turning himself rightside up. He also looks discombobulated, as he has not executed 100% according to strategy guide. Kyle tries a third time to get up, but he is a bit slower, and as he pulls himself up he is crushed with a shotgun dropkick from Hughes that sends him flying back, hitting against the turnbuckles and bouncing off. Shane, with little to no control over his limbs or velocity, stumbles out into the waiting arms of Hughes, who drops him with a hanging neckbreaker. Hughes then takes the legs of Shane, and executes a Jeff Hardy style leg drop between Shane's legs to the "lower midsection." Shane clutches his "lower midsection" and rolls over to the apron, complaining to the people at ringside. Hughes smiles, and plays to the crowd himself, but he spots Shane pulling himself off the apron and walking in the aisle. Shane paces back and forth, holding himself, and catching his breath. Darren Hughes drops down and comes up behind Shane, slamming him head first into the apron. Shane stumbles and only is able to keep his footing by clutching the apron like a drowning man.

Jerry Andrews: I've got to say I'm impressed with this newcomer.

Ace Anderson: Okay, he totally isn't new, I remember him from when I was an active competitor and I always thought -

Jerry Andrews: Uh huh. So why did you say you didn't know him?

Ace Anderson: ... I owe him twenty bucks.

Hughes doesn't waste more time playing to the fans at ringside, throwing Shane back into the ring and climbing the ropes. Shane, more red-faced than usual, grimaced and picks his way up to a standing position only to find an incoming Hughes bearing down on him with a cross body block. This time, however, Shane catches it, and, although slipping, he falls back with it, rolling it into a sort of roll through into a small package. The crowd pops.

The referee: One...









Tw... Kickout.

Both men scramble to their feet, with a more desperate looking Shane landing an arm drag on Hughes as they both get to a vertical base. Shane keeps hold of the arm and tweaks the wrist, crawling over to the ropes and wrapping the right arm in the cables. Hughes tries to shove away and the ref jumps in immediately to break the hold. Shane breaks briefly but places the hold back on, torquing it painfully. The referee admonishes Kyle, and tells him he has to the count of five, and Shane asks "What number was five again?" to both annoy the ref and distract him from the task at hand. Finally, flustered, the referee starts counting a five-count to disqualification. Shane uncoils the wrist and arm from the rope, twisting it and wrenching it into an armwringer. Shane pounds and clubs the injured shoulder and, holding Darren by the bad arm, striking him across the chest with a blistering chop. Shane then completes it by lifting Darren up onto his shoulder and giving him a crisp shoulderbreaker, and as Darren bounces off the knee Shane picks the arm back up and yanks backwards in a Fujiwara armbar. Darren screams in pain. Shane manipulates the limb, pulling back on fingers to really dig the pain in. Shane barks for Hughes to tap.

Jerry Andrews: Joints really are not supposed to stretch that way.

Ace Anderson: Shane is hanging on so tight, Hughes has got to feel like he's in the jaw of some alligator or another.

Hughes yells and contorts, waving his free arm. The referee asks if he'll tap, but he grits his teeth and shakes his head. He then uses his free arm to fling back over his shoulder and nail Shane repeated in the side of the head. At length Shane is dazed enough to slacken the hold, but he turns over and pounds Darren in the face several times until Darren doesn't fight back. Shane drops an elbow across the shoulder and spins around, locking in a figure four of sorts on Hughes's arm. He triangles the limb and drives his right foot into the ribs and left foot into the neck of Hughes. The awkward submission though is proving to be effective, as it also puts Hughes in a pinning predicament as well as potentially being able to end the match on its own merit.

Jerry Andrews: Hughes is pretty far away from the ropes here.

Ace Anderson: Now you are slowly realizing the genius.

Shane has worked feverishly to get Hughes agonized enough so he would submit, but he never tapped out. Shane also applies extra pressure on the neck and ribs to try and keep Hughes down, but he couldn't keep both sides of Hughes down for such a duration. Shane was determined to let the hold and its effects wear Hughes down, but the PCW crowd is determined to see a flashy finish rather than technical masterpiece and urged Hughes forward. Incredibly, they're actually rallying behind this unlikely underdog. A "HUGHES, HUGHES, HUGHES" chant starts up from the back. Shane's head whips around, and his nose crinkles in perturbed fashion. Finally, with Shane so concerned by the growing sentiment for Darren, Darren makes his move to get out of the hold. Darren rolls around, trying to throw Shane off his game, and is able to secure the legs of Shane before long. He rolls to the right side and turns it into an inside cradle of sorts. Shane frantically kicks, trying to get out.

The referee: One...










Two... Kickout.

Shane breaks the hold. With Darren getting a quick breather while Kyle gets back up to his feet, you can see the fire in his eyes as he nails a kick straight to Kyle's face! The God of Game reels backward as Darren surges upwards, and Kyle comes forward again and Hughes slams his knee into Kyle's chest. He gets back up and then takes Shane down with a clothesline before coming off the ropes with a discus clotheline! The impact on the last one sends spit flying into the lights. Darren then then lifts Shane up, loading him into the corner, and giving him a waterwheel suplex! Darren Hughes collapses, but holds an arm up, and he scoots over on his side, draping an arm over Shane. The referee slides in to count.

The referee: One...












Two...













Th - Kickout.

Darren grimaces and looks up, his face red with effort, but his eyes alive. He goes to lift Shane up but Shane cuts him off with a sneaky rake to the eyes. Some of the crowd takes offense to that as Shane has to get another breather, but then he pulls himself onto the apron. Darren turns and Shane lays into him with a forearm shot that makes Darren stumble away. Then Shane grips the ropes, intending to go for a sweet springboard move, but Darren recovers too quick and he does a baseball slide, under the bottom ropes, coming out between Shane's legs, and in perfect timing as Shane is just about to start flying Darren sweeps the legs of Shane out from under him! Shane is already in the air, but now his momentum is changed and his legs go out into the aisle, and he falls straight down as Darren Hughes lands in the aisle, Shane falls face first onto the apron! Shane smacks the apron hard! Darren wastes no time in pulling Shane up with him before whipping him into the side of the ring and Kyle crashes back first into it! He manages to stay up on his feet though, however, not for long as Darren nails him with a stiff thrust kick to the chin that sends Shane to the ground once again!

Jerry Andrews: Shane just absorbed at least three critical hits in one!!

Darren Hughes now rolls a possibly concussed Shane under the bottom rope, pulls his head out into the aisle and clubs him. Shane rolls back into the ring. Darren rolls in after him. Darren covers, hooking the leg.

The referee: One...











Two...











Th - Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: This just speaks to how much this match means to Darren Hughes, he wants his new tenure in Pure Class Wrestling to mean something, he wants to make a name for himself.

Ace Anderson: He's hanging in there with one of the longest reigning champions we've ever had!

Jerry Andrews: Can you imagine if Darren Hughes shocked the world and beat Kyle Shane to advance to the next round?!

Ace Anderson: Nobody can predict things like this, it's the Icemann Invitational baby!!

Darren rolls off of Kyle and looks up at the sky for a brief second before getting back up to his feet and drags Kyle up with him. He then pushes the God of Game into the ropes before going to whip him across the ring. However, Kyle manages to reverse it once again and as Darren comes at him, he counters with a sling blade. You can see the pain on both men's faces as they're both laid out. Yet, somehow Kyle just pushes right through it now, as he holds one arm against his midsection, the other arm is shaking with surging adrenaline. Kyle Shane peels the smaller Darren up, hooks him in position and muscles him skyward with a sitdown Last Ride powerbomb. Darren hits with sheer impact and then Shane keeps his legs on top as the referee slides into position.

Jerry Andrews: Shane pulls out Caress of Steel!

The referee: One...








Two...







Thr- Kickout!

The crowd reacts to this wild match, and Shane, breathing hard, squints his eyes and looks down at Darren Hughes, asking "what the fuck" under his breath. Shane pulls Hughes a few feet toward the ropes and, taking a few extra seconds because of the damage he's taken, takes one further bit of time turning back to make sure Hughes is still incapacitated. Shane reaches the top rope and sets himself, looking for a moonsault. He gains the proper height and momentum, but sadly, Hughes rolls out of the way and let Shane hit the mat like a comet come to earth. Breathing heavily, Shane grimaces, coming up clutching his abdomen in pain. Darren Hughes takes the moment to catch his breath himself. He slowly gets to one knee, then to his feet behind Shane, and he grips Shane, kicking him in the gut. He goes to lift Shane up for a Michinoku Driver, but the taller and lankier Shane proves too much for the injured Darren to lift all at once and he winces, holding his side. Shane drops down behind Darren, takes two steps back, and attempts to set his feet. Shane then spins, going for a quick roundhouse kick, but Darren catches the foot, and flings Shane to the mat, converting it into a painful kneebar! Shane's eyes bug out of his head at the counter.

Ace Anderson: FOR THE SECOND TIME!!

Jerry Andrews: Darren Hughes told Shane! He told Shane he had studied ways to counter his best shot!

Shane yells and howls, and the referee asks if he gives up. Shane swats at the air and flings his arm out, screaming "NO!" He covers his face with his hands. Darren says "Tap!" Finally, after seconds tick by in the hold, Shane pushes himself on his elbows, pushing back, and using his height to his advantage, he scoots back and grabs the bottom rope. The referee tells Hughes to break the hold. Darren does, disappointed, and he slowly starts getting to his feet. Shane rolls onto his side, holding his knee and cringing. Darren pulls Kyle up by his hair, and lays in a few kicks to the sternum. Darren shot off the ropes and looked to land a shining wizard, but Shane either had a sixth sense or just collapsed, and managed to roll out of the way. Hughes caught himself on the second rope and tried a spin around, but Shane catches him with a knee to the gut and a desperately fast double underhook DDT after Hughes bounced out of the corner. Shane, still holding his leg, scrambles over for the cover.

The referee: One...











Two...










Thre- Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: No matter what happens, Darren Hughes has proven something tonight, in this first round match. He's continued to hang in there when Shane never even gave him a chance.

Shane slides towards the ropes, favoring one side as he pulls himself up. He waits for Darren to start pulling himself up, and Darren does, grabbing the middle rope. Shane tries to pull him out of the ropes from behind and clasp his hands, falling back for a single leg backstabber, but Hughes snaps out of his almost dead state, holding onto the top rope and not letting it go. Shane falls helplessly onto his back without Hughes, and Darren wastes no time in pulling him up and planting him hard with a Michinoku driver in the middle of the ring. Hughes goes for a bit of a desperation cover.

Jerry Andrews: He calls that Smashed Pumpkin!!

The referee and the crowd: One...











Two...










Thre - Kickout!

Hughes has a crestfallen look on his face, and he wipes the sweat off, looking up at the referee and begging him to tell him it was three. The ref assures Hughes it was two. Darren slowly makes his way to his feet. He tries to lift Shane, but Shane limply fights back by throwing rights and lefts. Hughes, however, lands an atomic drop and follows it up with a Northern light suplex, into a bridge.

The referee and the crowd: One...











Two...










Thr- Kickout!

Darren slams the mat, frustrated, but he shakes his head. Shane's hair is sticking up in spikes, and he's laid out on the mat, barely moving. Darren lands a few stomps, then drags Shane over to the ropes. Darren hops up to the middle rope, begins a short air guitar solo, and when bending the final note, leaps into the air and comes down with an intended double knee drop to the prone God of Game. However, Shane comes alive, and he rolls out of the way. Darren hits knees first, regretting his maiden guitar performance was sullied and wincing at the damage done to his bad knees. Kyle then catches him around the throat, muscles him over with a snapmare and floats onto his back, then hauls upward with a bully choke! Darren's eyes bug out of his head as Shane has him trapped in the Lens of Truth. The crowd reacts in awe at the turn of events. Shane snarls out for Hughes to tap. Darren's face is going beet red as the choke is cutting off his air. Shane pulls back so hard that Darren's back is arched.

Jerry Andrews: Shane is choking the life out of Hughes!!

Ace Anderson: Shane is trying to do to Darren what Darren wanted to do to Mister Chubs!

The referee asks Darren if he gives up, but even choked Darren gives a garbled "No". Several seconds tick by as Darren's face gets somehow redder, but he is able to pound on Shane's back and hit him in the back of the head with his elbows. Finally Shane releases the hold, and Darren slumps down taking sweet lungfuls of air. Shane looks down, severely perturbed, and obviously questioning what he can do. He tries to brush this all off. He gets to his feet, picking Darren Hughes up, whips him into the corner, and then he paces to the opposite corner. He goes for a Stinger splash. Hughes counters into a desperate drop toe hold. Shane hits the turnbuckles hard, and he turns, feeling his mouth for blood, and Darren comes in with a dropkick. Shane slumps in the corner, and then he falls into a seated position. Darren, gaining a second wind, charges to the opposite corner, sprints the half length of the ring and comes in with a hesitation dropkick of such amazing height that it dazzles the crowd. Then, he pulls Shane up on all fours, and drops him with a short spike DDT! He lays out on the mat, too beaten to do anything. The referee has no choice but to start counting both men out.

The referee: ONE...



TWO...



THREE...



FOUR...



FIVE...



SIX... Darren starts to stir...



SEVEN... Darren rolls onto his stomach...



EIGHT... Darren pushes himself up to his knees.

Hughes pulls Shane up, attempting another Michinoku driver, lifting the limp Shane up, but Shane fights, trying to wiggle off the shoulder and pushing back with every ounce of strength in his body. Finally, Shane drops down, and his legs hardly working he backs quickly into the ropes. Hughes tries to turn around, but Shane had backed himself into the ropes before slumping through to the ring apron. Hughes tries to drag Shane in under the bottom rope, but Shane holds on to the bottom rope for dear life, and the referee had to call a break when Hughes came back to try and release Shane the hard way. Darren finally holds his hands up, waiting for Shane to pull himself up, but as Hughes then reaches over the ropes to grab Shane Shane catches him, grabs him by the head and hot shots him on the rope. Darren hits throat first and bounces off, and he falls to the mat, holding his throat and contorting. Shane gets in the ring behind Darren.

Jerry Andrews: Shane picked his opening and hung Darren up on the top rope!!

Darren Hughes is coughing, and sorely winded from the abuse his windpipe has taken, and is pulling himself up to a seated position as he tries to breathe. Behind him, Kyle bounces off the ropes, caving Darren's head in with a basement roaring elbow to the back of the skull. Shane nudges him over.

Jerry Andrews: A Hidden Blade just damn near takes Darren's head off!!

Ace Anderson: Darren Hughes put up a hell of a fight, he had Shane on the back foot more than Shane would have liked, but Shane found his opening and he sealed it like the assassin he wants to be.

The referee and the crowd: ONE...








TWO...









THREE!!

Ding Ding Ding

Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, advancing to the next round... KYLE SHANE!!!

"In The Morning And Amazing" by Circa Survive hits on the PA as Kyle sits up, red-faced, sweating, selling the grueling match, but he stands, and he has the referee raise his arm. Darren Hughes is groaning, holding the back of his head, as Shane stands, holding his arm up by the ref, looking down at him. Then, Shane looks into the hard camera, holds up a single finger, and says "One." The meaning is clear, the first round is down.

Jerry Andrews: So Kyle Shane advances to the next round, where he will meet the winner of Stormm and the Anarchist.

Ace Anderson: Give it up to Darren Hughes, though. In his first round match and his comeback to Pure Class Wrestling he took Kyle Shane to the limit.

Kyle is exiting up the ramp, holding his arms out in the typical, arrogant Kyle Shane way and smirking his infuriating smirk, and Darren is just now sitting up, rubbing the back of the head, and talking to the referee, who fills him in on what happen. Darren looks disappointed. Kyle has a huge smile as he walks up the ramp.

Moments before the entrances for the next match begin, the feed cuts backstage where Kassandra Black is poised and ready.

Kassandra Black: With what we’ve seen so far tonight, and the importance of the next match, I thought I’d try to get a…

Before she can finish, a black shadow blurs by in front of her, between the interviewer and camera.

Kassandra Black: Stormm, excuse me, do you have a second? I wanted to get your thoughts on Jason Willard accusing you of attacking Cory Steel and Tyler Scott earlier tonight.

The Force of Nature stops in his tracks, and turns towards Kassandra. Though, he does not say anything, but instead stares intensely back at her for several moments in silence. He does eventually shake his head to answer the question, but says nothing.

Kassandra Black: Do you plan on using your bat against Willard tonight?

He smiles, holding up his beloved wooden bat in Kassandra’s face to which she smiles uncomfortably. He doesn’t hold it there long before he drapes it over his shoulder, and lets the bat fall to the ground. The sound of the wood hitting the concrete echoes through the backstage area. Holding up his hands and clenching them into fists, he finally speaks.

Stormm: These are all I need to take care of Willard, and finally, after nearly twenty years, we will get to see exactly what happens when The Anarchist steps into the ring against The Force of Nature.

He turns and picks up his bat, and makes his way towards the arena, leaving Kassandra in silence to smile at the camera as we cut back to the feed inside the arena.

Sasha Greene: The following contest is a quarterfinal match in The Icemann Invitational Tournament and is scheduled for one fall! 

Electricity buzzes through the PCW arena as the announcement ignites loud cheers from the faithful. Even before music hits, chants of STORMM break in mass unison. There isn't a single person sitting down as cameras pan around to capture the moment.

Jerry Andrews: It's so loud in here that I can't heard my broadcast partner talk. Thank you to everyone for making that possible.

Ace Andrews (straining to hear, misinterpreting): Who's Kim Possible??

A pitch black arena is greeted with the mysterious bass sound of Steven Severin and guitar scrapings of John McGeoch which opens “Spellbound” by Siouxsie and the Banshees. With each note, red and silver lights dance in rhythm. Siouxsie Sioux welcomes with her opening vocals, while Budgie provides jangling tambourine support. Then his tribal drumming joins in tandem with the sinewy, syncopated rhythms as the song really begins to take off at the twenty-six second mark.

Sasha Greene: From Anaheim, California. Weighing two-hundred and fifty pounds, he is "THE ANARCHIST" JASON WILLARD!!

Siouxsie’s hypnotic vocals lead him through patches of white fog as he embraces the LOUD boos of the faithful with an absolutely creepy smile plastered on his face. A black SHAKESPEARS SISTER band shirt is partially hidden by his ruby studded black vest. He's wearing long black tights that feature a red A over the Seal of Anaheim and black boots. His hands are wrapped in white athletic tape.

After moving his braids out of his face, he starts moving towards the ring like a man in a possesed trance. Halfway down, he suddenly taunts with manic glee before shoving the cameraman out of his way. Willard slides into and then quickly rolls out of the ring to aggressively throw his vest in the face of Jerry Andrews at the commentary table. He flips off a few fans before sliding back into the ring. After removing his shirt, he calmly slinks into a seated position in the corner with braids in his face, a dark look in his eyes, and malice in his heart, waiting with the same creepy smile he entered with.

Sasha is unable to make the next introduction as vulgar chants of WILLARD SUCKS have picked up right where they left off pre-Seromine. Ever the career heel, he picks himself up to walk around the ring with his middle fingers raised in the air, reveling in being hated and proud to return their sentiment.

Without warning, the lights in the arena go out in a flash, and the sounds of rhythmic drums began to beat like an oncoming war. Very subtle orange lights illuminate the ramp way as the strings begin to accompany the percussion, and the tron flickers back on with black and white aerial shots of the Kansas City metro area. The faithful are left in total darkness, and their cell phone screens and flashlights begin to sporadically light up the crowd, like stars in the night, as a dense fog has risen, covering the ramp. Despite how little time has passed, the beat has brought the crowd to their feat.

Then, as the crescendo reaches its peak, a spotlight hits the entrance to accompany the climax of "Land of Shadows" by Audiomachine, and Stormm instantly comes into view.

Sasha Green - Making his way to the ring, from Kansas City, Kansas, weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds...

The Force of Nature looks out into the crowd from underneath a black hood attached to an ankle length, black leather trench coat. The coat is covered in straps and buckles all left dangling about as the open coat sways with his movements. The crowd's reaction rivals that of the music volume, and Stormm acknowledges, looking left and then right, with a nod. His stare turns back to the ring, and he makes his way down the ramp with a black, wooden bat in his left hand.

Sasha Green - He is The Force of Nature... STORMM!

Having made it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring in typical fashion before nodding towards Ace and Jerry, and tapping the announce desk with his bat. In one fluid motion, he hops up onto the apron, leans back onto the ropes, and points the bat out into the crowd, which draws in another pop from those in attendance. Climbing through the middle and top rope, he immediately scales to the second turnbuckle of the nearest corner as the arena lights slowly come back on as the spotlight fades out.

Stormm hops down, and throws the hood of his coat off of his head as he walks with purpose to the opposite corner. The overwhelming adulation continues. No smile. No mouthing off. All business. The battle music fades out well before the reaction of the crowd does, but the Force of Nature waits patiently, perched from the top turnbuckle, waiting for the match to begin.

Icemann Invitational Tournament Quarterfinal Match
Stormm vs "The Anarchist" Jason Willard
Referee: Eric Russo

DING!
DING!
DING!

PCW is in for a treat as Willard and Michaels have never had a singles match against the other while under their current names. The match has such a big feel that if this were taking place in Japan, streamers would fill the ring. They engage in a standoff from opposing sides if the ring, both of them allowing the moment to set in.

Willard makes the first move as he draws an imaginary line in the center of the ring. After throwing his braids out of the way, he shows disrespect towards his longtime colleague by spitting in his direction. Willard stretches his arms out and backs off with a grin. Those middle fingers again have found their way into view. Stormm not only wipes the spit off with his foot, he marches across the line to go try and deck Willard for it. The Anarchist steps back on his heels, but Michaels advances no further on him.

Willard calls the referee over for a conference. He demands (not requests) that he check Stormm for any illegal objects such as brass knuckles. The very thing used in his previous match against Grimm and Kyle Shane. Willard continues making his case by spewing hot air of how he refuses to compete against someone who cheats. This of course only fuels the booing further. Willard wins his plea. Eric Russo walks over to explain things to Stormm, who shows he has no issue obliging.

Jerry Andrews: Willard knows damn good and well Stormm doesn't need anything to beat him.

Ace Anderson: Then why does he carry a bat?

Jerry Andrews: Have you ever seen him use it to win a match? Even if he did tonight, I'm sure nobody would have a problem with it.

Ace Anderson: Well thank you for that biased insight.

The referee informs Willard of his finding. The Anarchist accepts the decision and offers a handshake to Russo for doing his job. Afterwards, he offers one to Stormm with an "apology" on the side. Michaels doesn't buy the act for a second. Willard increasingly grows impatient. He tells Stormm not to listen to the idiots cheering him on. That he's known him longer than any single one of them. Stormm asks the crowd what he should do. Willard drops his hand and goes for a cheap shot.

Stormm blocks without even looking. Willard cowers before a thundering right can blast him. He tells Stormm 'not in the face!' Stormm let's him go with a laugh. Willard rolls himself out of the ring to regain his composure. He plays things off like he never made the plea, choosing instead to taunt from the safety of the floor. Willard moves his braids aside as he eyes Stormm. Justin calls him back into the ring while playing up to the crowd.

The Anarchist slowly returns inside. He DEMANDS the ref back Stormm up. Again, The Force of Nature obliges without delay. Willard glowers at the faithful for a split second and then turns his attention to Stormm. Willard tells him to quit stalling and to just take his loss. Stormm ignores those words while they circle. It finally looks as if things are about to begin...but Willard backs off a collar-and-elbow. The boo-birds come out in full force. Eric Russo is beside himself over the antic.

Jerry Andrews: I know he hasn't wrestled a match since Grimm took a shovel to him, but this is ridiculous.

Ace Anderson: Willard is being smart. Why let someone like Stormm try and bully him into making a mistake??

Willard does some stretches to further antagonize. He explains to the ref one of the rules from Zombieland. Russo orders him to cut the crap and get the match going. Willard puts his hands up as he backs himself around the ring. He and Stormm size one another up and again, move in for a collar-and elbow. Almost immediately from the grapple, the former Seromine complains his hair is being pulled. The referee closely inspects. An attempted eye gouge is blocked Three Stooges style.

Stormm peppers Willard with strikes to the head. Then a boot to the midsection to stagger him against the ropes. Willard is sent across with a whip and thrown overhead like someone failing to do a front flip off the diving board. After Willard crashes on his back and gets up, Stormm mows him over with a clothesline. This is met with a second. Then a third. The last one dumps Willard right out to the floor.

Stormm rolls out after him and is met with a chop to the throat. Willard stands him up for one of the loudest knife-edge chops heard. Stormm covers up while clenching his teeth. Willard's attempted whip is countered, sending him into the ring steps with an odd looking cartwheel. Stormm races over to meet him at the point of attack with a dropkick off the steel. Willard is picked up by the hair, then introduced face first to the rail. Stormm returns that chop and now the two vets have matching red chests.

Willard is rolled under the bottom rope. Stormm slides in after him. He sidesteps a swing towards his midsection, but uses the provided limb to yank Willard up for a throw to the corner. Stormm splashes him with high impact. Willard is sent to the far corner for another. This time he is pulled into a belly to belly suplex. Stormm hooks a leg.

1.

Willard has no trouble kicking out. Stormm grabs him by his braids, but is hit with a spinning back kick to the abdomen, doubling him over. Willard buries the point of his elbow to the base of his neck, dropping the former North American champion to a knee. Willard brings Stormm to his feet, hitting a stiff European uppercut. He goes for another and gets his arm caught...FLASH FLOOD!! The crowd's cheering is fever pitched after the sudden signature move is delivered. Willard finds himself pinned.

1!

2!

He kicks out and dashes all of that positivity in the process. Willard is slow to roll outside of the ring to avoid any further troubles. Stormm gets the crowd fired up and is showered with LOUD chants of his name. The referee starts the ten count with Willard taking the numbers as the amount of stars dancing around his head.

Jerry Andrews: Stormm struck with one of his impact moves from out of nowhere and has the former Seromine reeling!

Ace Anderson: You call it impact. I call it not good enough to get the win.

Stormm is there to greet Willard with a baseball slide around the count of six, pushing him back first to the rail. Stormm remains inside however, which gives Willard the opportunity to return unimpeded. That is until he's actually in. Then Stormm pulls him into a floatover snap suplex. Willard gets his shoulder off the mat before the referee can even get into position. Stormm spins the hips and takes Willard off his feet with a floatover vertical suplex. Willard bridges his body off the mat this time to prevent the count.

A front face lock puts Willard on his heels as the two return to their feet. Stormm maneuvers the advantage with a deep armdrag takeover. Willard gets up only to be body slammed back down. He's then met with another deep armdrag. Stormm this time manipulates his arm into a Fujiwara armbar submission. Willard's pain is heard as he scurries his legs to the ropes as fast as he can. Stormm breaks and turns to see an angered Anarchist outside of the ring throwing things around. He shakes out his right arm and jaws with his fans as his composure falters.

Willard is captured talking to himself. Only it sounds like he's talking as if his wife, Destiny, is there calming him down. It seems to work because his anger is dissipating like a tornado that's ran out of fuel to keep it going. Willard was so caught up in the self conversation, that he is unaware Stormm is nearing. Willard turns just in time to run himself into a back body drop. Stormm returns him to the ring. Willard frantically pummels Stormm after cutting him off with a stomp. Stormm fires back with forearm smashes. Willard cuts him off with a knee to the midsection.

Stormm finds his arms bridged behind him, but he fights off an attempted BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA. He spins out of the predicament, but Willard ducks a shot. That's when he absolutely uncorks Stormm out of his boots with a discus lariat. The impact is so loud and forceful, one may get visions of the fan favorite being decapitated. Stormm favors the back of his head after that one. Willard scoots himself in the corner for a needed breather.

Jerry Andrews: Willard may have concussed Stormm with that one. What authority he had behind the clothesline.

Ace Anderson: Stormm once dressed himself like a scarecrow. But he's a long way from Oz and still in need of a brain.

Willard points and laughs at Stormm's situation. He taunts him from the corner and then gathers himself enough to stand. Stormm is pulled to the center of the ring. Willard unleashes a torrent of stomps, a signature he calls an ACT OF VIOLENCE. Nine stomps are unleashed to his shoulders, neck and head. The tenth and eleventh are double stomps that crush Stormm's face in the mat.

Willard crouches to bridge Stormm's arms again, but instead of attempting his other signature, he hits a butterfly suplex. Stormm arches his back up and then moves to his side. Willard charges with a punt kick right to his kidneys, showing no mercy on impact. That gets Stormm to react unfavorably. Willard cranes Stormm's head and neck at an inhuman angle while he drags him to the ropes. Willard viciously runs his eyes back and forth with little regard until the five count nearly reaches its conclusion.

Willard let's go and then challenges Eric Russo's authority on stopping him. This while he has a foot pushing Stormm's throat down on the bottom rope, cutting his air supply off. Willard takes the count dangerously close to five with wide-eye glee. Stormm gasps for air after the weight is taken off him, a fact not lost on the antagonistic Willard, who shamelessly mocks the 'LET'S GO STORMM' chants with over-exaggerated sarcasm.

Jerry Andrews: Jason Willard should focus more on the match and less on riling up the fans. Stormm is more than capable of getting back on track and putting him away.

Ace Anderson: He's multitasking, Andrews! Besides, THEY started it.

Jerry Andrews: You always have an excuse, don't you?

Ace Anderson: Like you don't? The only thing Stormm is capable of is finding himself eliminated from the tournament.

Stormm is being worked over in the corner with a series of knife-edge chops. He promptly strikes Willard back after each, but loses ground following a sudden spear. Willard sends him across the ring and then comes in with a handspring back elbow. Stormm suddenly has him in a full nelson! Willard stuns him with a split-legged jawbreaker. Stormm slumps in the corner holding his face. Willard barrels away and then waistlocks Stormm. Before The Force of Nature can do anything, he's rammed sternum first into the buckles, then rolled into a leaping German suplex! Willard keeps him bridged.

1!

2!

Stormm kicks out. The two meet on their feet, but Willard drops him with a running clothesline. Stormm favors his head again while The Anarchist gets his braids out of his face. Stormm is picked up and ran face first into the top turnbuckle. With no wasted time, he pushes Stormm into a seated position. Willard steps onto the ropes like he were going for a superplex. Stormm fires some weak shots off, but has his eyes raked for the futile effort. Willard cinches the setup and...hits a top rope brainbuster! There's a loud groan before the booing as Stormm is spiked into the mat, leaving him limp and lifeless. Willard hooks the legs.

1!

2!

Stormm kicks out! Willard shifts his eyes at the referee as he stares into his soul unimpressed. He claps his hands together three times in slow motion, but has the account changed with two and a kick-out. Willard aggressively rips Stormm up, only to pull him into an arm-trap neckbreaker dead center in the ring. He promptly tells him FUCK YOU on his way to his feet. Willard taunts the fans as he scales the buckles. Stormm is motionless. Willard launches himself HIGH in the air with GREETINGS FROM ORANGE COUNTY.

Jerry Andrews (beside himself): He just hit one of his finishers!!

Willard clutches his stomach as he rolls around from the impact. The faithful are beside themselves as reality starts sinking in. Willard sits up laughing at them as he scoots over. Willard has Stormm pinned with Eric Russo in place to count the shoulders down.

1!

2!

3---KICK-OUT!

The fans dial their cheering up to ten. Chants of LET'S GO STORMM break in unison as the longest reigning North American champion in history is still alive. Willard pulls on his braids out of frustration with both the count and Stormm's defiance to stay down. Stormm is peeled off his back and sent HARD into the corner with an Irish whip. Willard charges and eats a boot. He Taylor Swift's and shakes it off. This time he eats the other boot. The third try has him lowering his balance to get under the legs.

Stormm is propped up in a powerbomb. Willard turns his back to the corner. Stormm pushes off the top ropes to flip himself over so that he's now in front. Willard's wild clothesline is ducked. Stormm wraps his left arm around Willard's neck, and then leans them backwards. From there, he grabs a hold of Willard's tights with his free right hand, and lifts Willard off of the ground. He then falls backwards, bringing Willard with him, planting his head and neck onto the mat.

Jerry Andrews: HANGCLOUD DDT!!

Ace Anderson (repeating): There's no Stormm in the forecast...there's no Stormm in the forecast...there's no Stormm in the forecast.

Willard is flat on his back. Stormm is starting to feed off the energy of the faithful. Their cheers are fueling his comeback. Their chants are breathing new life into him. He knows Willard is down, but down doesn't mean anything unless it gets you the win. Something Stormm desperately wants in order to advance to the next round.

Stormm is fired up! Willard has the ropes as a crutch to climb onto his feet. He senses what's around and goes for a discus forearm. It's immediately blocked! Stormm launches piston strikes to the head and torso of Willard. He takes him to the corner for ten slams against the turnbuckle. Willard is allowed to do his spaghetti dance.

Stormm hits a German suplex! He rolls around. A second one. He fakes out like a third is coming, but turns it into a POWERFUL full nelson slam instead! Stormm locks Willard's legs under his arms, then wheelbarrows him into the air. Willard twists his body so that he is in position to hit a stunner. That puts Stormm in a very favorable spot.

Willard's right arm is caught in a modified half nelson. His shoulder is being wrenched at the same time. Stormm puts his free left arm around Willard's face, then uses the same hand to take hold of Willard's right forearm. The Anarchist knows what's being done and is frantically fighting Stormm, the fans and time to put a stop to it. But it doesn't matter because Stormm has EYE OF THE STORMM cinched with all of the pressure on Willard's shoulder, elbow, wrist and face.

Jerry Andrews: Stormm has Jason Willard crying for his wife with his submission finisher! The Anarchist is trapped with no one there to rescue him!

The fans can feel the end is near and are LOVING it. Eric Russo keeps a distance as Willard desperately reaches out to him. His eyes tell the painful story. Willard's hand starts closing. His screams of pain push out of his throat. Willard is frantic in trying to find any escape, but Stormm has this applied right. Willard appears like a tap out is coming...

OOOH! Willard kicks Stormm between the legs after his reach for the ropes falls short. Just as his foot hits back and Stormm processes the release, Willard's left hand motions like he was tapping. Luckily for him it won't count. With Stormm compromised, Willard cradles his right arm against his body. But he CRACKS Stormm with a savate kick just under the chin. Stormm slumps in the ropes. Willard is down to a knee. He yells Destiny's name as a way to block out the pain. Willard hears those god awful fans calling for their hero and is intending to silence them once and for all, one arm be damned.

Willard collects Stormm from his weakened, dominant right. He pulls Stormm the best he can into a short-arm clothesline with the healthy left. Willard maneuvers Stormm into position for a DDT. Stormm clutches the ropes out of last second instinct as Willard's head thuds with impact. Stormm shakes off the cobwebs as he gathers The Anarchist.

Stormm sets him up in a suplex with his left arm over the back of Willard's head, and Willard's left arm over his left shoulder. Stormm grabs the left leg, lifting it up close to Willard's own torso, then he lifts him up into a cradle suplex position.

Jerry Andrews: This is it! Stormm is going for Force of Nature!

Ace Anderson: Not so fast, Jerry. Something you're used to hearing.

Willard shifts all his weight to block Stormm from completing the act. He throws some body shots out of desperation. He gets his leg freed and in the process, takes control of Stormm's right arm with his left hand. Stormm finds himself pulled towards an incoming short-arm clothesline, only he captures this and rotates his body away from the ropes so that he lands a single armbreaker to the damaged right arm!

Willard falls to his knees clinging to his limb. Just as Stormm jumps to his feet, Willard tries a bull rush that only gets him propelled bicep first into the top turnbuckle. Stormm pounces on the mistake as Willard is lead away from the safety of the ropes. The cradle suplex position is successful the second time. Stormm jumps and twirls about two hundred and seventy degrees, and falls on his stomach as The Anarchist is forced to land on his neck, shoulders, and upper back. The fans are in full throttle support of his finisher, FORCE OF NATURE, being successful!

Russo moves in...

1!

2!

3!!

The bell is called as Stormm rolls himself out of the ring. A sea of raised arms presents a picture perfect scene. The Force of Nature hears his music being played while he embraces front row fans.

Sasha Greene: Here us your winner, Stormm!!

Willard is left laying in the middle of the ring as a triumphant Stormm continues to slap hands on his way to the back. That's when the lights go out. The crowd eventually falls silent. Suddenly the sound of guitars pierce through the silence. "Wastelands" by Linkin Park begins to boom throughout the arena, the lights in the building flashing along with the drum beat of the song. Then, from the entrance way, steps Rick Majors.

Ace Anderson: What the HELL is he doing here?!

Jerry Andrews: You could say he's about to make an IMPACT.

Ace Anderson: *Sigh* Please don't...

Rick Majors picks up a microphone and starts to circle the ring as Jason Willard is slowly coming to.

Rick Majors: Hey Jason.... JAAAASSSONNNNN! Can you hear me? I know, I know... you're not in the best state right now, are you? And you haven't been for months, have you? First you lost that match to Kyle Shane and you had to admit that you're a fraud. Then you lost to him again. And then I drove your head into the mat right about..... here.

Rick Majors walks towards the ring and slams his hand on the canvas. Willard jolts his head over to look right at Rick Majors, but he's still too weak from the match to stand.

Rick Majors: And things just kept getting worse for you, didn't they? I mean, Grimm nearly killed you. Don't worry, I've been there.

Rick Majors steps into the ring now as Willard struggles to his feet.

Rick Majors: And now you've decided that 'Hey, I'm Jason Willard again. That whole LORD AND SAVIOR thing was just a joke.' Or something. You seem a little confused, Jason. It's like you don't really know who you are anymore. Again, don't worry. I've been there. But whether you go by Jason Willard, Seromine, David Koresh or Johnny Appleseed, it doesn't matter. Your name doesn't matter, it's your actions that define you. No amount of rebranding will allow you to escape your past.

Majors steps right towards Willard, who is now on his feet. Majors looks him right in the eye.

Rick Majors: And you've got some sins to pay for.

With that, Rick Majors decks Jason Willard with a strong right hand. Willard hits the mat. Majors pounces on him, unloading with a series of right and left hands. The crowd cheers as Rick Majors lets out two years of frustration and pain on the skull of Jason Willard. Eventually, PCW security come out to stop the assault. Majors stands, nods, and accepts the situation, leaving the ring - and a battered Jason Willard - behind.

As Trauma returns, we head backstage to the halls of the Pure Class Arena, as is usually the case a couple times during the show.

On the left side stands Holden Ross, dressed to compete. He has his arms folded over his chest and he is staring down at the camera.

On the camera's right side is David Hunter, who continues cracking limbs and stretching, also dressed to compete.

In the middle is Shane Dodge, mic in hand and ready to roll.

Shane Dodge: Ladies and gentlemen, my guests at this time, David Hunter and Holden Ross.

David wraps an arm around Shane's shoulders.

David Hunter: Shane where the hell is Kassandra? I figure she'd have forgiven me after the last Trauma.

Shane Dodge: Oh, she doesn't want to talk to you anymore.

David Hunter: I gave her a Mustang!

Shane Dodge: Yeah but the windows were busted.

David shakes his head, letting Shane go.

David Hunter: Yeah well, they're still figuring out how much money I owe them. I still saw them fixing the toilets in the locker room.

Shane Dodge: In any event, David, last week you cost Sicko a victory by interfering in the main event. Tonight, you and Holden will team up for the first time in your alliance to take on Sicko and Dominator. What are your thoughts going into this match?

David Hunter: Sicko had a lot of words to say to me a couple weeks ago. I've already said my piece on what he spoke about, but one of the things I really wanna harp on is the reason why I ran a rampage on this arena. It wasn't because I have daddy issues. You'd think a guy as smart as Sicko would've realized my dad can rot in hell. It wasn't because I was being immature. And it sure as hell wasn't because I lost my title. Oh no, I ran a rampage on this arena...because Sicko thinks he's some big deal.

David takes a few moments to gather his words.

David Hunter: The guy comes back, destroys a whole bunch of nobodies--except for Razor, unknown rest his soul.

David taps his heart a few times before looking and pointing towards the ceiling.

David Hunter: And claims a shot at the Underground Title. A title that...quite frankly he didn't earn. And if that wasn't enough, the story should have ended...when I beat him in the middle of that ring to keep the crown where it belongs. But apparently this company decided that there was nobody else for me to face, so what did they do? Well, after Sicko ran some more of a rampage on this arena, they just...handed him another title shot. I don't know what kind of bingo hall, shit-show this place is, but back in Georgia, they don't just hand guys title shots because they take out a bunch of wrestlers. And let's make that clear: we're not talking about matches and pinning guys, we're talking about kidnapping them and making sure they're never seen again.

David lets his breath fill a small silence.

David Hunter: Personally, I don't really give a shit about Sicko's past and history in this company. All I care about is that Sicko claims he's a superstar considered a threat. That he's...worthy of being afraid of. Clearly this man is delusional if he thinks he's half as scary as all the shit I've seen. Sicko is nothing but a man born with height and strength, and because he didn't have anything else he could do, he decided to become a wrestler. That's all he is: shit out of luck with nowhere to go. And who gets to suffer for this incompetence? Not PCW. Defnitely not Sicko. No, it's me. One of the best wrestlers in this company...forced to lower himself to weirdo clowns like Sicko.

David shakes his head, chuckling a bit despite the situation.

David Hunter: Tonight's all about proving why Sicko's just keeping my throne warm. We're going to cross paths again. We're going to wage war one more time. And when that's said and done, and after I defeat Rick Majors in the Icemann, I'll be walking out....the four time...King of the Underground. And if Sicko thinks he can keep me down...than he's clearly...never messed...with a Hunter.

The crowd gives off a mixed reaction to this. Shane turns to Holden, holdin the mic to him.

Shane Dodge: Holden Ross, on the last Trauma you took Tyler Scott, Cory Steel, and Alexa Black, with the latter seemingly put into retirement. What's on your mind going into tonight's main event?

Holden looks to Shane. The two lock eyes, with the Bastard just glaring at the smaller man.

When Shane looks down, Holden forces the mic out of his hand. David catches Shane as he stumbles.

Holden holds the mic to his lips...













...before slamming it back into Shane's chest. This sends him down to the floor. Holden just turns around and walks off camera, his focus and determination evident.

David helps Shane return to his feet. David holds his shoulders tight, keeping him close.

David Hunter: Sorry about that. He's kind of a bastard. You get used to it.

David places a quick peck on Shane's cheek before joining Holden off camera. Shane wipes the kiss off while straightening up his attire. This is followed by a cut back to ringside.

The opening hook to “Amazing” blares out over the public address system. The music is accompanied by a dazzling light show, signifying the arrival of the champ. The Faithful cheer loudly as Gerard Angelo steps out on to the stage. He’s dressed in a suit with his trademark sunglasses, the Pure Class Wrestling title draped over his shoulder. Gerry stops at the ramp and looks out over the crowd before walking down to the ring with purpose. The Hollywood hero steps gracefully up the steel stairs and confidently swings his leg through the top and middle rope, entering the ring and immediately requesting a mic. He stands in the center of the ring and waits for the crowd to die down a bit before raising the microphone to his lips.

“Tonights not a night for me to waste time pontificating, so let me get right to my point.” Gerard says, adjusting the World title on his shoulder. “I worked my ass off to get to the top of PCW and become the World Champion. I talked, and talked, and talked some more about how I wanted to lead PCW into a new age. Be a great champion, and leave Pure Class Wrestling better for it.”

He pauses for a second as the crowd buzzes.

“I had my first opportunity to do so last week when we had our Champion, versus Champion, versus Champion match. And what did I do? I squandered a chance to prove that I am worthy of the top spot. I got beat, and it’s my own damn fault. I lost and I made the World title look weaker because of it.”

Gerry slips the title off his shoulder and looks at it in his hand.

“I’ve talked about wanting to face the very best PCW has to offer. Not only do I want to, but now I NEED to. I need to face the very best PCW has to offer, but more importantly I need to win. And I’m not gonna wait for management to pick my opponent. I know who I want to face at Living a Legacy. I said it before. I want the PCW mainstay. I want to face the measuring stick. I want Grimm!”

The crowd pops loudly for this and they even start a small “YES” chant in the crowd. Before long, “YES” changes to “GRIMM”. The crowd keeps it up like some kind of mantra. Gerry moves around the ring, making sure to keep an eye on the whole of the arena. No blind spots, no surprises. He knows full well how ugly a turn these things can take if one is not careful.

But then…a certain tune begins to build. The lights turn a certain sickly shade of yellow. A certain silhouette steps out from behind the curtain. And the crowd goes bonkers.

The song fades out and the lights return to normal, leaving Grimm standing there in what can only be described as a minor variation on his wrestling garb. Boots, britches, T-shirt…you get the idea. He stands holding a microphone, and after a few seconds he raises it to his beard.

“So…that spiel of yours back at Trauma 249…that was legitimate.”

Gerry raises the belt. “I don’t joke around about this.”

“I beg your pardon,” says Grimm, raising an open hand. “It’s just…there’s so much talking these days, you know? In that ring. Backstage. In the parking garage. In hotel rooms.”

He closes his eyes and sighs.

“So. Much. Talking.”

Grimm turns his attention back to the ring.

“I just figured that’s all that was. Talk.”

Angelo shrugs. “Maybe sometimes. But not this time, Grimm.”

Grimm’s eyes narrow and he nods. “Okay. But I have to admit I’m a little confused by your tactics. You stand there as the Pure Class Wrestling World Champion. You hold the crown jewel of the federation, signifying that you are the best we have to offer. And yet you stand up there challenging me.”

“That’s right. I said it at 249 and I say it here again tonight…I’m not screwing around. I want this title reign to mean something, and for that to happen I want to face the boogeyman of the federation…the Crimson Demon that’s been stalking these halls for over a decade. I want to fight Grimm.”

Grimm crosses his arms. “Oh, I understand. And I certainly appreciate it. It’s just…when was the last time the World Champion issued a challenge? Are you sure you’re ready for this? For the arguments for rematch clauses, and contractual obligations, and recent match outcomes, and the impending tournament? Are you ready for the backstage bickering?”

“And…are you sure you want to face the Hangtown Horror?”

Gerard Angelo sets his jaw and lifts his chin in emphasis. In confidence. In defiance.

“You know I am.”

A grin unfurls behind that beard and spreads to Grimm’s eyes. Those eyes of pale blue ice. Those eyes that have beheld that very title belt on six different occasions. Those eyes of biting frost and hammering winds, one eye of which winks up at the Hollywood Hero.

“Excellent. You got it, friend.”

"Hopes and Dreams/Save the World" by GaMetal starts blaring on the PA speakers. The lights in the arena all go out, barring the spotlights on the stage. David Hunter comes out, adorned in his usual Hawaiian shirt. He steps to the stage, arms spread, chest exposed. He looks around at the crowd, breathing deeply and ready for what's to come, but otherwise focused on the ring in front of him. He cracks his wrist, neck, and knuckles, glancing around at the crowd before him.

As the drop begins, David pumps his fist forward, punching the air. He turns around, facing the curtain.

The sound of a needle being drug across a record interrupts the song. It is replaced by “Spiders,” midway through Billie Corgan's instrumental feat. Holdens strolls out from the back and as he walks up alongside Hunter, the two head bump fists. David turns around and the two of them begin the trek to the ring. A few fans still not too sure about David attempt to get a high-five but they are promptly ignored.

Sasha Greene: Making their way to the ring with a total combined weight of five hundred and seventy-two pounds! They are the team of David Hunter and The Bastard, Holden Ross!

The duo hit ringside and David reaches up to grab the middle rope. He pulls himself up onto the apron, but quickly hops to the top rope. He points straight at the hard camera. During this, Holden crawls in under the bottom rope. David steps inside the ring, staying on the middle rope. He walks over towards the middle, staring straight at the hard camera. After making sure his balance is alright, he raises a clenched fist in the air. Holden, ever simplistic yet quite intimidating, looms next to him, standing straight and staring strong.

Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross and David Hunter are presenting a united front ahead of their confrontation with their two biggest rivals.

Ace Anderson: Well both of these men went on an absolute tear last week, Holden Ross decimated Tyler Scott and Corey Steel before possibly ending Alexa Black's career, while David Hunter, well... had a bit of a rampage around the backstage area.

Jerry Andrews: He mildly inconvenienced or annoyed quite a lot of people in an attempt to prove a point is what he did.

Ace Anderson: But to that end, he also cost Sicko a chance to win the main event last Trauma, and you know that doesn't sit well with the big man.

Sasha Greene: And their opponents, introducing first, weighing in at 383 lbs... he is the Pure Class Wrestling Underground King... SICKO!!!

The lights start going out as if with a rolling blackout, flickering and struggling to maintain power as the first guitar chords of "Fixxxer" by Metallica starts playing over the PA. As the lights come fully up, a battered, dilapidated ice cream truck, it's paint and decals peeling in a sinister manner rumbles up on stage, it's axles shaking with effort. The entrance ramp is backlit with a hellish red lighting as the ice cream truck pulls into a spot just to the left of the entrance ramp, making this vessel seem like some demonic harbinger. As the music hits the mid-point heavy guitar break the jumbotron shows images of Sicko, walking down a long hallway, his back turned to the camera, then the screen splits and two images of Sicko, two faces, one laughing, one letting out a bestial roar.

Tell me
Can you heal what father's done
Or fix this hole in a mother's son?
Can you heal the broken worlds within?
Can you strip away so we may start again?
Tell me, can you heal what father's done
Or cut this rope and let us run?
Just when all seems fine and I'm pain free
You jab another pin, jab another pin in me

Then, as the music kicks in harder, shots of Sicko ruthlessly attacking and destroying PCW superstars flicker on the screen. Sicko steps out from behind the wheel of the ice cream truck, and as he does, he cocks an ear, listening to an unheard spoken word or command, and he responds, talking to himself. A red mist rolls out from the interior of the ice cream truck with Sicko. The Demon Clown slowly makes his way down to the ring, like a predator on the hunt. As he climbs onto the apron, James Hetfield is just getting to the "NO MORE PINS IN ME" part of the chorus and in time with that, Sicko holds his arms out at his sides and he throws his head back, letting out a guttural roar. As Sicko climbs over the top rope, he turns his head to talk to a voice only he can hear, waiting for the match to start.

Jerry Andrews: Sicko is in an even worse mood than he was before. He looks like he wants to tear David Hunter a new ice hole.

Sasha Greene: And his partner, weighing in at 365 lbs, accompanied by Horacio Mortimer... he is the Pure Class Wrestling North American Champion... DOMINATOR!

The arena is enveloped in total darkness, save for a solitary spotlight shining at a vacant spot central to the stage. Stepping into view, Horacio Mortimer is welcomed by a chorus of thunderous boos. He wastes little time, extending his arm as if to beckon the audience to bear witness to a presentation crafted of his own accord.

Indeed, this very sentiment rings true in the most literal sense as a graphic appears on the Tron in scripted white letters; “A Presentation By The Chronological Order,” Horacio steps aside as the lights suddenly begin flashing fiery colours; orange, yellow, white and red, as the image change to the hands of a clock Hunterling out of control, accompanied by an ominous guitar riff. After a few seconds, the name that strikes fear towards all who oppose him appears in front of another image of a clock in bold red letters…


DOMINATOR


The guitars suddenly increase their tempo and energy as the Tron shows the total devastation of various PCW stars at the hands of the titular monster. The Zenith arrives with purpose, standing directly next to Horacio Mortimer. Dominator looks out across the sea of fans in attendance, lifting his forearm in front of his face whilst flexing his gargantuan bicep to display the wristwatch that he wears always, without fail. As he raises his arm further into the air, to the point where the giant cannot reach any higher, a shower of fiery sparks falls from the top of the Tron, briefly masking the entrance video being played. He holds this position for no more than eight seconds before lowering it, taking deep breaths in preparation for the oncoming duel.

The thrashing of the guitars mirrors the intensity in every single one of The Zenith’s strides. Horacio follows his client at his own pace. Dominator makes no attempt to slap hands with the fans. He reaches the ring apron, grabbing the middle rope to haul him onto the side of the ring. He pushes down the top rope with his right hand, throwing one foot over the top before the other follows. He slowly makes his way to the center of the ring, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees to admire the capacity crowd before raising his arm in the air in the exact same manner as he had done atop the entrance ramp, lifting it with malicious purpose to display the watches covering his wrists.

He cricks his neck back and forth before swinging his arms in preparation for the impending fight. All the while, that devious smile is still on his face and he looks to make eye contact with his opponent without a single hint of intimidation. Horacio Mortimer patrols the perimeter of the ring. The music slowly fades, the lights returning to a more average level of illumination as Dominator waits with masked enthusiasm for the start of the match.

Tag Team Match
David Hunter & Holden Ross vs Sicko (PCW Underground 👑) & Dominator
Referee: Ed Lane

Jerry Andrews: Well David Hunter and Holden Ross have a loose alliance, they even entered in sync. But Dominator and Sicko have no such alliance, and even seem to be harboring some ill feelings after the conclusion of last Trauma.

Ace Anderson: Ill feelings is one way of putting it, Sicko is staring a hole in Dom right now. How's this going to go when they have to tag?!

The bell rings as David Hunter looks up at Sicko and promptly smacks him across the face. Sicko's head snaps back, he reaches for David but he bounces into the rope and hits Sicko with a forearm smash. Sicko barely budges. Hunter bounces into the ropes again and goes for another forearm smash, but Sicko only staggers. Hunter bounces into the ropes for the third time but Sicko is ready for him and flapjacks him down to the canvas. Sicko grabs him by the head and tosses him into his corner. Dominator slaps him in the back of the head and he runs right into Sicko who dumps him over head with a back body drop like maneuver. Sicko tags in Dominator. As David crawls towards his partner, Dominator drags him back to the center of the ring. David swings his leg up and goes for the enzuguri but Dominator blocks the kick effortlessly by swatting it aside, and then he grabs David by the waist and dumps him over with a back suplex. Dominator goes for a relaxed pinfall.

The referee: One... kick out.

Dominator drags up Hunter but gets a knee to the midsection. He doubles over and David bounces into the ropes and hits a spinning neckbreaker on Dominator. Hunter begins to pound and stomp Dominator. He locks in the front face lock and drags him the short distance to his corner. Holden tags himself in and begins to kick and knee Dominator in the ribs as Hunter opens him up for the attack. The referee tells Hunter to get out of the ring. Holden grabs Dominator in a front face lock, but Dominator shoves him off. Holden, with a fierce tenacity, bounces back, and hits Dominator with a European uppercut, and then applies the front face lock again, this time dropping Dominator's neck across the middle rope in a guillotine fashion.

Jerry Andrews: Viciousness of the self-described Bastard is fully on display here in the early goings.

Ross cinches in a kneeling headlock on Dominator. Dominator merely stands up with the smaller man on his back. Dominator backs him up in the turnbuckle before Ross can even slip off. Hunter takes advantage of the location and tags himself in again. As Dominator walks away from the corner Hunter leaps off hitting a flying tornado DDT. He goes for the pin...

The referee: One.... Kickout.

As Hunter gets up near the other side of the ring Sicko acts like he's going to get in the ring. Hunter stumbles backwards, holding his arms out to keep Sicko back, Dominator picks him up from the side and lifts him high up in the air in the military press.

Ace Anderson: Hunter and Ross are getting tossed around like rag dolls out there. I almost feel bad for them, but it's hard to have sympathy for them when David Hunter ruined all of my shit sitting in the locker room last Trauma.

Jerry Andrews: Oh, will you just let that go?!

Dominator, having kept David Hunter hoisted in the air for what seemed like a record amount of time, turns and flings him down to the mat. Dominator roars and taunts the crowd, and even looks over Sicko's way, holding his arms out and letting out a bestial roar. Sicko cocks his head with a look of being slighted, and he enters the ring, pointing down at David Hunter. Dominator tells him he's doing what Sicko couldn't. Dominator begins furiously booting Hunter, keeping him down. Sicko, a look of dislike and distrust for Dominator, pushes Dominator aside and he joins in, and the two of them continue to beat Hunter down. The referee tells them come on, guys, you have to tag, and warns them of disqualifcations. Dominator, angrily, pushes Sicko, who aggressively makes a show of getting in the corner, presenting his hand and holding the tag rope. He gets tagged in. Then Dominator and Sicko go back to stomping David Hunter, and the referee, annoyed says No! He makes Dominator leave the ring, but Sicko continues the assualt, lifting Hunter up in a headlock. He clubs Hunter over the back. Hunter fights back by elbowing Sicko in the gut. Sicko rakes his eyes. Hunter stumbles back, and Sicko punches him a few more times, backing him into the ropes. The referee tells Sicko to keep it out of the ropes, and Sicko takes a moment to argue with him. As he's doing that, David Hunter is escaping and trying to get to his side of the ring. Sicko tries to pull him back, but Hunter gives Sicko a surprise jawbreaker that makes the big man stumble away, holding his mouth. David Hunter is just about to tag in Holden Ross when Sicko kicks him in the back of the head. Sicko then drags David back across the ring, but Dominator tags himself in. Sicko stares at Dominator, incensed.

Jerry Andrews: Too much dissension in the ranks, Dominator and Sicko have the advantage based on their power, but they can't hold on to it for long.

Dominator waves for Sicko to exit, and he lays Hunter out with an impactful scoop slam. He drops a few elbows across the chest. Now, Dominator mock graciously tags in Sicko who rubs his hands together as he's finally going to be able to get his hands dirty. He scoops up Hunter and ties him up in the tree of woe. Upside down Hunter realizes that Sicko is across from him preparing for a baseball slide to the face. Hunter lifts himself up avoiding the attack and tries to get his feet lose. Sicko forces him back down and begins to kick and boot Hunter in the chest. Through the kicks and the pull of gravity Hunter falls out of the tree of woe. Sicko picks him up off the canvas and shoves him into the turnbuckle where he follows him in with a body splash. Hunter stumbles out, barely able to keep his footing. Sicko simply walks him out and flattens him with a sidewalk slam. Sicko then makes a short run to the ropes and comes back, hitting a leg drop across the throat, and he goes for a pin.

Ace Anderson: David Hunter has taken quite a beating, I think he's learning he shouldn't name drop so many people who all want to hurt him.

The referee: One...

















Two... Kickout.

Sicko drags Hunter out of the corner and plants him with a vertical suplex. Sicko starts to go for the pin, only to have it broken up immediately as Ross stomps on the back of his head. Sicko gets to his feet and starts to chase after Ross, but the referee gets in between them and tells Ross to get back in his corner. Sicko and Holden exchange trash talk, and Holden Ross gives him a middle finger that Sicko snarls and bares his teeth at. Sicko turns back to Hunter, and tries to lift him up, but Hunter drops down with a jawbreaker that makes Sicko stumble backwards. Sicko grabs for Hunter, but Hunter crawls between his legs. Sicko turns and finds Hunter's leg and tries to pull him back, but Hunter scores with an enziguri right to the temple. Sicko falls back against the ropes.

Jerry Andrews: As we saw at Mass Destruction, Hunter is giving up a lot of power to the massive Sicko, he needs help in a big way.

Ace Anderson: And there's no Underground rules, so that does tend to take away a lot of equalizers, on both sides.

Hunter tags his partner in. Holden lifts a knee into Sicko's face. He grabs him by the side and gives him a release German suplex. Sicko rolls onto his stomach, and the 300 pound mass of muscle known as the Bastard mounts him from behind and begins raining down punishing crossface forearm shots. Then Ross begins to lift Sicko, gripping him by the back of his massive head, and Sicko tries to fight back. Ross gains the upper hand, elbowing him in the crown of the forehead. Sicko shakes his head, groaning. Holden takes the arm and whips Sicko to the ropes, hitting a polish hammer on the bounce back, that actually makes the monster stumble. Then, Holden locks in a chinlock with a knee digging into the back of Sicko. David Hunter pushes himself up in the corner, and Dominator, on the other side, tries to will Sicko back into the match. Sicko starts shaking with adrenaline, trying to push himself up from the seated position to his knees, and begins fighting back as much as he can, yet Holden’s strength is grinding him down. Sicko's arm movements start becoming sluggish. Dominator having had enough, charges into the ring, David Hunter comes from behind and shoves him with a knee in the back that makes the charging juggernaut go to the outside of the ring through the middle rope. Dominator stops himself, and shouts at David Hunter as he turns around. Hunter plows into Dominators mouth with a wrecking ball dropkick through the ropes. Sicko is finally starting to push himself up, but while the referee is checking on Dominator on the outside, Holden Ross turns Sicko around, performing a bearhug lift, and David Hunter performs a Hart attack before sliding away. Holden Ross then performs a curbstomp on Sicko for good measure.

Jerry Andrews: The power of Holden Ross and the devious mind of Hunter is proving an effective combo!

Ace Anderson: More importantly, they're working together, those two giant idiots can't even keep it on the same page.

Ross tags in Hunter who looks down at Sicko and shakes his head. He grabs Sicko and DDT's him down to the ground. Hunter goes for the pin.

The referee: One...

















Two... Sicko kicks out.

Hunter hops up and drops a leg drop. He hops up again and blatantly elbow smashes Dominator in the face in his corner. Dominator tries to get in the ring, but the ref gets in his way. The referee and Dominator argue. Behind his back, Ross and Hunter tag out, and the two lift Sicko up and slam him down with a combination spinning leg sweep and spinning heel kick to the face. David runs and drop kicks Sicko in the head. David begins to try and lift Sicko, but Sicko just pushes David off and David launches off the ropes. David comes back and Sicko tries to clothesline him and David ducks the clothesline, running to the opposite ropes and as hits the ropes he springs up and then flies off the second rope with a springboard flying clothesline, taking Sicko down. David then waits for Sicko to start crawling for his knees, as David hunches in the corner, motioning for Sicko to get up. When the Demon Clown does get to one knee, Hunter runs in and gives him a bicycle kick.

Jerry Andrews: Ode to Frank connects, Sicko is in trouble!

Ace Anderson: For David Hunter, this is about retribution, for Sicko taking his Underground title!

Hunter covers, and the referee slides in.

The referee: One...

















Two... Dominator breaks it up.

Dominator gives Hunter a few harsh stomps to the head and back. The referee tries to make Dominator leave the ring, and Dominator protests. David goes and tags in Holden Ross, who pushes the referee aside and goes right for Dominator. Dominator catches him around the throat for a chokeslam, then flings Holden up onto his shoulder. He flattens Holden with a front powerslam. Hunter gets to his feet, and Dominator demolishes him with a big boot. Dominator lifts Hunter up and throws him into the corner, then he grabs Holden's arm and whips him in, stacking them up on top of each other. Dominator charges in and smashes both of them with an avalanche. The referee, trying vainly to maintain some semblance of control, gets in Dominator's face, telling him to get out of the ring or he will surely be disqualified, as both Holden and Hunter are crawling around, trying to regroup themselves. Sicko is also trying to pull himself up as Dominator goes back to his corner. He holds his long arm out for a tag. Sicko starts pulling himself up, as Hunter rolls to the outside. Sicko and Holden both get to their feet. Holden throws a right hand. Sicko throws a right hand of his own. Holden and Sicko begin exchanging mighty punches, but soon the bigger Sicko begins overpowering Holden and his punches begin to furiously beat Holden back against the ropes. Sicko whips Holden to the ropes, and on the return takes him back down with a back body drop. Holden gets up, holding his back, and Sicko slams him down with a spinebuster. Sicko holds out his arms and screams lets out a mighty roar, and the crowd get to their feet.

Ace Anderson: That's the angriest clown I've ever seen.

Jerry Andrews: Not a Stephen King fan, I take it?

Sicko lifts Holden Ross up and lets out a bone chilling laugh, then he throws him to the outside over the top rope. Sicko exits the ring, and he walks over to where Holden is picking himself up onto all fours. Dominator cocks his head at him, asking Sicko what the hell he's doing. Sicko, a frenzied look of pure sadism writ on his face, walks Holden over to the announcer's table. He slams Holden Ross head first off the table, violently. Holden lays there , propped on the table. Dominator, squinting at Sicko, hops down from the apron, and paces over to hold his arms out at Sicko. The two giant men are arguing. Holden Ross paws at Sicko's singlet, trying to pull himself up. Dominator is trying to order Sicko to do what he says, but that isn't going well. Sicko grabs Holden Ross's head and dashes it against the announce table again. Holden Ross groans, and holds his head, laying by one arm on the table. The referee is pleading, come on, guys. Dominator, a look in his eye that says he's tired of Sicko's shit, holds his hand up to shoo Sicko away. Then HE grabs Holden Ross by the hair and HE slams Holden Ross off the announce table, hard enough to make it quake. Sicko's eyes open up in annoyance at Dominator's perceived upstaging. He grabs Holden Ross and HE slams Holden's head off the table, then Dominator, not having any of it, grabs Holden Ross and HE slams Holden Ross' head off the announce table, this time more forcefully than Sicko ever had.

Jerry Andrews: This game of one upsmanship, right on our announce table, has got to be scrambling the brains of Holden Ross.

Ace Anderson: Scrambling his brains hell I think they're giving him CTE, cauliflower ear and Parkinsons right now!!

The referee, from the ring, screams "ENOUGH!!!" and points at Sicko and Dominator, telling them to stop slamming Holden Ross on that table or they'll get disqualified. Holden Ross, his limp arm flailing and bobbing in the air and his head spinning like he's drunk, is laid out at their feet. The referee tells Sicko to get back in the ring or he'll start a count out, which he really should have done already. Sicko pulls a limp, spaghetti legged Holden Ross over to wobble in the aisle, throws him into the ring, and pulls him over to the corner. He sets Holden Ross under the bottom rope by the steel ringpost, then he smashes Holden's arm against the metal. Holden Ross yells in pain and holds his arm. Sicko grips the arm tightly and smashes it into the steel ringpost again. Once again, the referee is forced to warn Sicko that he is this close to being DQ'ed.

Jerry Andrews: I don't think Sicko is too focused on wins and losses, so the prospect of being disqualified doesn't hold a lot of sway over him.

Ace Anderson: But he still would lose the match for them using these Underground tactics, Dominator you gotta talk some sense into him.

Holden up as he pulls him over and tags in Dominator. Dominator holds Holden for a Russian legsweep as Sicko goes off the ropes and together they crush Holden with a double chokeslam.

Jerry Andrews: And after a protracted beatdown, Sicko finally relents to getting some help from his partner.

Dominator goes for a pin.

The referee: One...



















Two...



















Thr- David Hunter breaks it up.

David Hunter stands before Dominator, who looks up. Hunter holds his hands up and escapes through the ropes. Dominator snarls angrily and then he grips Holden by the temples, and begins squeezing, applying a vicegrip submission. He thrashes Holden around violently, but Holden begins to sink to his knees as he can't stand the pressure. The referee asks Holden if he can continue, but Holden somehow is able to stay alive. Holden continues thrashing a bit, resisting the urge to fade out. Suddenly, Hunter comes back into the ring and gives Dominator a running double footed dropkick to the face, breaking the hold up. Hunter makes a motion to the crowd to get them fired up. Dominator gets to his feet, and kicks the big man's wheel out and gives him a flying knee fameasser, then he rolls to the corner, looking awed at bringing the massive Dominator down. Both Holden and Dominator are laid out for a moment as Hunter goes back to his corner.

Jerry Andrews: Both parties are down, let's see how this plays out!

The referee: One...





Two...





Three...





Four...





Five... both Holden and Dominator are starting to get to their feet.





Six...





Seven... Dominator get to his knees.





Eight... Holden is the first one up.

Holden begins giving the kneeling Dominator a series of knee lifts. He tries for a vertical suplex, but Dominator, due to his size and strength advantage, resists letting his arms get hooked in position. He stands up with Holden on his shoulders in almost an Alabamaslam spinebuster position, then he switches Holden around and drops him with a reverse tombstone piledriver. Dominator lifts Holden up, and clubs him viciously over the back, knocking Holden down to one knee. Dominator grips Holden by the back of his trunks and his hair and he runs forward with him, throwing the prone Holden between the middle and top rope so that Holden goes flying shoulder first into the steel ringpost at high velocity. Holden shouts, grimacing and holding his shoulder in pain, and Dominator pulls him back out and holds him in a torture rack, before spinning him out into a torture rack neckbreaker.

Jerry Andrews: Dominator just performed the Rip in Time!

Dominator goes for a cover.

The referee and the crowd: One...

















Two...

















Thr... Kickout.

Dominator walks over and tags in Sicko, and Sicko lifts Holden up, going for a gutwrench powerbomb, but Holden slips off Sicko's shoulder and drops down behind him. Sicko turns around. Holden rests against the ropes. Sicko comes running at him for a big boot, but Holden pulls down the top rope and Sicko goes spilling to the outside, over the top rope. Holden rests for a second. Sicko starts to pick himself up, as Holden tags in Hunter. Holden goes over to the ropes as Hunter gets a running start. Hunter comes running in as Sicko gets up on the outside. Hunter uses Holden's hands as a step to flip up, high out of the ring, and come down with a plancha, taking Sicko down on the outside. The crowd erupts into a big 'that was awesome' chant. Hunter gets to his feet. Sicko is pulling himself off the apron. Hunter bounces his head off the apron, then he waits for Sicko to get up. Hunter tries to give Sicko a running bulldog onto the concrete floor, but Sicko pushes him forward, and Hunter goes flying right into the steel ringpost with a crash. Hunter is floored, and he begins holding his forehead.

Jerry Andrews: Pure blunt force trauma!

Ace Anderson: You just know Sicko has been wanting to pay Hunter back for making him bleed at the end of Trauma itself!

At the admonishment on the ref, who's starting to count them out, Sicko lifts Hunter up and rolls him into the ring. Sicko clubs Hunter across the back a few times, making him sink down to all fours. Sicko drops Hunter with a headbutt, and then he wipes Hunter's forehead, which is beginning to bleed. Sicko cackles maniacally. Hunter begins pulling himself up, but Sicko runs towards him and knocks him back to the mat with a boot right to the head. Hunter falls back, his expression one of someone seeing stars. Sicko holds his hand up, signalling for a chokeslam. Hunter slowly gets to his feet, and Sicko grabs him around the throat. He lifts Hunter for a chokeslam, but before he can drop him Hunter counters into an armbar. Hunter wrenches the arm as he gets into position, but Sicko is still able to use his arm to drive Hunter to the mat. Still, despite the impact, Hunter holds on to the armbar. Sicko grimaces in pain, as the referee asks him if he gives up. Sicko screams he won't. He uses his legs to push up, and while Hunter keeps the hold locked in as best he can, Sicko pins his shoulders to the mat. The referee counts.

The referee and the crowd: One...

















Two...

















Thre... Hunter breaks free.

Sicko gets to his feet, shaking out his free arm. He snarls at Hunter, and swings at him for a clothesline, but Hunter ducks, grips Sicko's head and drops down with a leaping single arm stunner. Sicko's head connects off the shoulder and bounces off, and he drops onto his back.

Jerry Andrews: There's the Thrill of the Hunt!

Ace Anderson: Let's not forget it took five of these to keep Sicko down at Mass Destruction!!

The referee and the crowd: One...

















Two...

















Three... Kickout.

Sicko get to his knees as Hunter gets up. Hunter tags in Holden, and Holden is able to lift Sicko up onto his shoulders with a front powerslam lift, although stumbling a bit due to the weight. Hunter then does a single arm stunner from the elevated position off Ross' shoulder! Holden then goes for a pin.

Jerry Andrews: We've never seen that before, a double team move, it was like a team based Thrill of the Hunt!!

Ace Anderson: Sicko's head was driven a long way down!

Holden Ross yells at the referee to get his ass in gear. The ref counts.

The referee: One...

















Two...





















Three... Dominator breaks it up.

Hunter and Holden lurch to their feet, as they both come towards Dominator, but he cuts them off by grabbing them both by the throat and dunking them with a double chokeslam. Dominator screams and holds his fists up to the crowd, then he goes back to his corner and holds his hands out for Sicko to legally tag him in. Sicko slowly starts making his way over. Soon, he's within a fingertips reach of his corner. Holden tries to pull Sicko back, but Sicko uses all of his leg strength to push Holden half-way across the ring. Sicko rolls over and tags in his partner. Holden get up and eats a clothesline from Dominator. Hunter comes running in, but Dominator knocks him aside with a reverse elbow. Holden get up, and Dominator plants him with a scoop slam. Hunter comes running back in, but Dominator clotheslines him out of the ring. Dominator lifts Holden up, throwing him into the corner, and he begins squashing Holden with a series of back elbws. He irish whips Holden into the opposite corner at near escape velocity, and Holden hits chest first and is knocked back to the mat. Holden groans and holds his sternum in pain.

Jerry Andrews: Jesus, Dominator is on fire!

Dominator lifts Holden up and boots him in the gut. He plants him between his legs and then he lifts Holden up, an Alabama Slam. He covers...

The referee and the crowd: ONE...



















TWO...



















THRE... Kickout.

Ace Anderson: Was that a spasm?

Jerry Andrews: No, I think it was a legitimate shoulder off the mat.

Ace Anderson: I beg to differ, he's going into shock. I saw this on Grey's Anatomy.

Jerry Andrews: So you're an expert now?

Ace Anderson: Doctor Meredith Grey is, dammit!

Dominator walks over to the corner and begins scaling the turnbuckles. Dominator turns and sets himself on the second rope, and then he flies off, crushing Holden under him with a second rope splash, as the crowd gives an "ooooh!" in sympathy, and erupts into applause. Holden is nearly lifeless. Dominator goes for a pin, but Hunter immediately starts to dive in and break up the count. Dominator moves out of the way, letting Hunter pile onto Holden. Dominator quickly tags in Sicko and together, they throw David out of the ring. Dominator lifts Hunter up and feeds him in to Sicko, who boots him in the gut and hits a falling package powerbomb on him. The referee then interrupts Sicko, getting right in his face and telling him to get out. Now. Or he's disqualified. The referee argues with Sicko for several moments. While their attention is taken by Sicko, with Dominator trying to interject... Holden Ross comes in, and gives Dominator a low blow uppercut to the groin from behind. Dominator doubles over, howling in pain. Holden Ross, breathing heavily from the damage he's taken, grits his teeth. Sicko and the referee are arguing, but Sicko is taking David Hunter out of the ring to the outside. Holden Ross stands over Dominator, who is holding his jewels.

Jerry Andrews: Dammit! Holden Ross just used the chaos of the match as a cover to hit a low blow!

Holden Ross then motions for Dominator to get up, and when Dominator does, coughing and holding his midsection, Holden hits him with a Polish hammer, with added oomph. He then drops down for a cover. The referee spots him, after a few seconds delay.

Jerry Andrews: Henry VIII connects, and Dominator is out cold!

The referee and the crowd: ONE...















TWO...

















THREE - Kickout!

Dominator is staring straight up at the lights with a dazed expression, Holden Ross is laying beside him with wild, frenzied eyes, running his hands through his hair with an expression of "What more can I do?!" Holden Ross then snarls, says that was three and begins yelling at the referee. He tells him that he needs to do his job, and grabs the man's lapel. The referee warns Holden he's had a very hard, trying night and please don't test him or he'll get disqualified. Ross shakes the ref, annoyed. Then, he tells him to do his job right or he'll see why they call him Bastard. He lifts the limp giant up, trying to hold the thick arms of Dominator. He succeeds in lifting Dominator up and slowly double underhooks his arms, all he has to do is turn him over and flip him into position for a belly to back vertebreaker. Moving slowly due to the weight of his target, Holden grimaces, using force to try and muscle Dominator up. Suddenly, from the outside, Sicko reaches into the ring, grabbing Holden Ross' foot. Holden looks down and starts shouting at Sicko, and then Dominator comes to life, floating onto his feet and then forcefully turning Holden around. At the same time, David Hunter attacks Sicko, pummelling him with right hands and kicking the giant's kneecap out. In the ring, Dominator lifts Holden Ross up and slams him down with a quick End of Days.

Jerry Andrews: Anachronism! The Anachronism!!

Dominator sinks down, pushing down on Holden Ross with both hands and roaring.

The referee and the crowd: ONE...

















TWO...















David Hunter tries to slide under the ropes to break it up but Sicko yanks him back out by the pants. Sicko flings David Hunter hard into the steel steps, dislodging them with a bang, and Hunter doesn't move again, and the referee's hand falls.

THREE!!

Ding Ding Ding

Sasha Greene: Here is your winners... DOMINATOR AND SICKO!!

"Wave of Darkness" by Garik Wheeler begins playing on the PA as Dominator gets to his feet. Dominator holds his arm up, roaring. Horacio Mortimer, on the outside, applauds and picks up the North American title belt. Outside of the ring, Sicko sneers down at David Hunter, but steps past him, picking up his Underground title belt. Horacio Mortimer is celebrating with Dominator, and holding the North American title belt, and Sicko takes the moment to get in the ring with his own title, and for a moment the two behemoths are standing in the ring. Both grab their title belts and just stand there holding them, then Sicko raises his Underground championship. Dominator defiantly raises the North American title. The two big men get closer, staring face to face and talking trash.

Jerry Andrews: Well, the match may be over, but Sicko and Dominator didn't do much to remain on the same page.

Ace Anderson: They were never going to be friends.

Holden Ross is pulling himself up on the outside, and a few feet away David Hunter is gritting his teeth and looking very angry. Both of them go over to each other, and they stare at Dominator and Sicko in the ring.

Jerry Andrews: A hell of an effort by everyone in the ring, though.

Ace Anderson: What what a night this was!

Jerry Andrews: We'll see you at Trauma 252 when the Icemann Invitational Tournament continues!

- CLICK -