Post by Rick Majors on Jul 18, 2019 22:04:25 GMT -5
"Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Jason!
Happy birthday to you!"
Lucy leaves a lipstick kiss on her son's cheek before offering a cheery round of applause for the celebration. Seromine, sitting directly to her left, smiles and blows out the forty-one candles that have meticulously been arranged on his floral cake. This brings another round of applause, but one he joins in on.
Gathered around the table are reasonable facsimiles of PCW superstars in limited attendance. Seromine doesn't consider them his friends, but his mom went through the trouble of "inviting" them to this, so here they are with party hats and gifts.
Except for Grimm. He has a plastic shovel in front of him. It's blue with a yellow handle and one that usually is found with a sand bucket. Seromine was allowed to open a gift early. Shh. Birthday decorations are hung all around the room, dressing it up with something for moonlight to hit through the four-panel window with the orange tree (or is it...trees?) outside. An already played game of pin the tail on the donkey is seen in the background.
Lucy removes the candles. Then because knives are sharp, she carefully guides Seromine's hand through each slice of cake for the guests. You would think they'd be more appreciative for the time she put into making it from scratch and with love. But no. THEIR mothers never taught them manners!
"This is the best day ever, mommy!" Seromine proclaims as he cuts himself a piece of cake.
"I knew you'd like it! I just knew! I told myself all week that this had to be special and look! It is! After all, you're my special little boy and today is the day..." She pauses with her thought. "The day I fell in love." Lucy practically sighs as her heart flutters with memories.
"Mommy? When can I open my other gifts??"
"Oh, I think you should take just a few more bites first! Then you can."
Seromine agrees and in no time has met the prerequisite. He looks to his guests. Grimm. Stormm. Gerard Angelo. Kyle Shane. Dominator. Razor Blade...
"Where's Rick Majors?"
Lucy clears her throat. She sets her paper plate on the table and then turns to face her son like a parent who has to explain something terrible in the easiest way possible. She takes his hands and looks him in the eyes.
"He already ruined one birthday. I couldn't allow him to ruin a second one. Could I? --- what kind of mother would I be then?"
Seromine nods. "I understand. But mommy, you're already the best! I love you!"
He catches Lucy with a sudden hug, one that she's all too happy to embrace. She runs her hands up and down his back while squeezing him tight.
"I love you too, sweetie. Say! I know what we'll do. How about you and I take a little road trip to Return to Glory and ruin his night? Does that sound like fun?!"
Her eyes are wide and brows raised. He rests his head on hers. "It's a date."
Her smile couldn't be any bigger. "It's a date!" She sits back up. "How about we open some presents?"
"Oh boy! Presents!"
Lucy offers her support and approval to everything he takes out of the colorful boxes. Thankfully toys, because nobody likes getting clothes for their birthday.
Although Lucy does know how to make them. The party continues, but your attendance is no longer welcomed. Go enjoy the show.
Trauma opens with the usual loud music, pyro, and cheering fans. Jerry Andrews and Ace Anderson are seated at ringside.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, we are rapidly approaching Return to Glory X and tonight on Trauma we have a huge show for you! I'm Jerry Andrews and...
Ace Anderson: ... I'm Ace Anderson! Tonight's card will have some serious implications for Return to Glory and I, for one, can't wait!
The lights go out. The crowd cheers instinctively before eventually falling 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.
Wearing a black denim military jacket, a grey t-shirt, and jeans, Rick Majors pauses for a moment and looks down briefly. He then looks up and starts to make his way to the ring.
"This is war with no weapons,
Marching with no stepping,
Murder with no killing,
Illing every direction."
Majors walks slowly, looking out around the arena as he continues his way down to the ring.
"And no, I'm not afraid of that
Print it in your paperback
Every rap is made in fact
To act as a delayed attack
Every phrase a razor blade
That's saved until they play it back
To slay and leave em laying on the pavement
Bang, fade to black"
The lights in the arena burst on fully as the song's chorus hits.
In the wastelands of today,
When there's nothing left to lose,
And and there's nothing more to take,
But you force yourself to choose,
In the wastelands of today,
When tomorrow disappears
When the future slips away,
And your hope turns into fear,
In the wastelands of today.
Majors climbs the ring steps and pauses. He turns towards the crowd, standing on the ring apron for a moment before entering the ring. Majors stands in the centre of the ring, looking out towards the crowd, awaiting the start of the match.
Jerry Andrews: What an ovation for Majors tonight!
Ace Anderson: When you talk about getting your career back on track, you just know, Majors is trying to do everything he can to become a new man and distance himself from this past year. He's been busting his ass, and I think tonight he's going to try and show us all why he can never be overlooked.
Majors asks for a microphone and he begins to speak.
Rick Majors: So, no disrespect to my opponent here tonight, but before the match starts I just want to say a little bit. On the last Trauma, you saw me dress like an eagle to ambush Seromine. Now, I know that was a little childish. It was fun, but it was childish. I mean, I wore an eagle costume and popped someone's balloon for crying out loud.
The crowd cheers.
Rick Majors: But here's why I did it. You see, when Seromine was leading his cult, he looked like he was all powerful. He had me and Tyler Scott and Holden Ross all by his side and he was ruling the world. But things haven't gone too well for Seromine recently, have they? After being embarrassed by myself and Kyle Shane and Stormm and Grimm... well.. he hasn't really been himself, now has he? He's walking around with his mommy, holding balloons and playing games. And I get it, Jason. I get why you've regressed to this state. Your world fell apart and this is safety for you. You've gone back to your childhood to protect yourself.
Majors pauses for a moment. He then looks right into the camera.
Rick Majors: But there's no safety for you. There's no security. There's no "Happy Place." That's why I did what I did. The innocence of childhood can't save you. There's nowhere for you to go. If you want to play games, I'll be right there. If you want to hold balloons and take photos with costumed characters, I'll be there. Wherever you go, I will be right with you making your life miserable. I will gladly come into your world and drop you on your head to show you that you cannot run from reality.
The crowd cheers.
Rick Majors: You don't get to have peace. You don't get to have safety. You don't get to escape. This isn't over until I say it's over. And, Jason, it's far from over.
Majors drops the mic to the mat and looks up the ramp for his opponent.
"The Truth Reigns" begins playing on the PA. Razor comes out from the back of the audience. He walks down the steps and high fives his fans. He walks down the steps and climbs over the barricade; stopping for a minute, he hops on the apron. He raises both of his arms in the air. Razor gets down, waiting for his opponent to arrive.
Jerry Andrews: In recent weeks, Razor Blade has had a full dance card, putting up fights against names like our very own World Champion, Grimm, and vying for the Underground title. Tonight, he is trying his best to get a big win.
Ace Anderson: Trying being the operative word, Jerry. Look, we know the kid's trying, but... eh... bless his heart, that's all I can say.
Majors and Razor do the awkward dance, circling around one another in the ring. Razor goes in for a shoot on Majors, but Impact manages to scurry out of his reach and back against the ropes. Majors scurries around, trying to find an edge and get underneath the self professed Big Dog, but he's not having much luck. Majors steps forward, underneath a collar and elbow tie up, swings around the right arm of Razor and tries to hook the left. He falls backwards in a crucifix pin, but Razor strains and uses his 265 pounds of pure muscle to launch Majors overhead and back into the corner. To say that he's flabbergasted would be an understatement. Majors rolls to his feet and edges out of the corner, not wanting to be trapped. Razor moves forward again, looking for any kind of clinch, but Majors lands a leg kick and sticks Razor with a jab on the side of the head. The Big Dog barely looks fazed by the blow and tries to grasp his rival, but to no such luck. Majors ducks underneath his outstretched arms, and he fires off a standing dropkick to the chest. Much to his dismay, however, the force isn't enough to knock Razor down. Majors looks to the side for a moment before getting to his feet. Majors sprints to the ropes, and hurls himself at Razor Blade with a crossbody. But all this does is place him in Razor's clutches. Razor switches to a military press and pushes Majors over his head, pressing him twice before transitioning to a powerslam, the velocity bouncing Impact off the canvas.
Jerry Andrews: That's never the way you want to wake up, with someone like that hovering over you.
Razor Blade turns to the crowd, letting out an "OOOOOOOOOAHHHH" roar. He turns back to his adversary, and the boots come in quick and painful to Majors, who is left with no choice but to roll out of the ring and down to the floor. Never one to back down from a fight, especially one he believes he can dominate, Razor rolls out and meets Majors with a right hand. Before Majors can strike back, two hands find their way around his throat and yank him from the ringside mats and into the ring post. The crowd lets out an "OOOOOH" of sympathy as Rick collides upside down and falls into an uncomfortable position on his neck. The thud is sickening enough, but the anguish Majors finds himself in is almost indescribable. He's writhing around on the floor, trying to figure out if everything is still in place. On top of all that, a behemoth is stalking over to him with the intent to do even more damage. A fist finds Majors forehead and makes him roll over. When he sees the injured body part, Razor is all too happy to drop an elbow and listen to the ungodly sounds Majors makes. Razor rolls over and gets back to his feet. He moves about five feet away from Majors. Razor Blade then shouts out that it's his yard, leaps into the air, and lands a body splash on the lower back. The crowd is amazed.
Jerry Andrews: Razor starting this match off with a bang and taking it at his pace. There is no way Majors can stand this kind of brutality for much longer.
Ace Anderson: And I think it's going to get a lot worse.
The referee admonishes Razor Blade to get it back in the ring. Razor Blade waves him off arrogantly. Razor Blade takes a moment to stomp Rick a few times, then he lifts the smaller man up and slams his head off the apron. Then, with Majors dazed, and only then does Razor roll him into the ring, following along behind. Razor shoots Majors into the ropes and lands a nasty Samoan drop that shakes the ring. Razor goes for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors shoots the shoulder out. Majors rolls onto one shoulder, blinking and trying to get back in the swing of things. Razor lifts Majors off the mat and goes to throw a punch, but Majors manages to get a jab in. A stunned Razor is caught off guard as Majors grabs his head and drives a few Muay Thai knee lifts, followed by dirty elbows. One of the hard hitting elbow strikes split Razor's lip open and make him turn his head. Majors releases the clinch, backs up and lunges forward with a clothesline that floors Razor. He transitions down toward the knee of the big man. This move, when done correctly, can cause a significant amount of pain. Razor yells in pain, contorting and throwing his arms in the middle of the ring. He lunges towards the ropes, but The Impact isn’t making it easy. Finally, Razor manages to make it to the ropes and the referee forces Majors to break the hold.
Ace Anderson: Now you know if the roles had been reversed Razor wouldn’t have broken the hold.
Jerry Andrews: Sure, because Razor Blade is synonymous with killer instinct, right?
Ace Anderson: No, but of everyone, I think he's the one who's desperate enough for a win.
Razor tries to stand on his now sore leg, but Majors is like a shark that smells blood and quickly goes back to work. He drives a shoulder into the back of the injured knee and forces Razor to collapse on the bad knee. He quickly backs up and executes a side kick to the back of Razor’s head. Razor falls, and Majors scoots in, dropping an elbow on the bad leg. Razor tries to pull himself up again but Majors, picking up the tempo, charges in and hits a swinging neckbreaker on the fly. Then, Majors drops down for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors looks annoyed, but he goes to pick the leg and stomps it several times. Razor yells in pain and holds his limb, and he pushes himself up. Majors lifts Razor up, trying to support the weight on the bad side, but suddenly Razor breaks free with a stone fisted uppercut. Razor huffs, and shakes his knee out as he begins climbing his way to his feet. Rick Majors, holding his jaw, turns around and he is grabbed by Razor. Razor launches Majors into the corner buckles and he gives it less than one heartbeat before coming in with vicious clothesline that almost puts Majors into the front row. Razor turns to hold his arms up arrogantly to the crowd. Rick slumps out of the corner, breathing heavily. Impact still finds himself on the defensive, and Razor is about to get innovative with it. He swings Majors around, tilting him upside down and letting him face the turnbuckles. The Big Dog contorts Majors legs and ties them in the ring post, a reverse tree of woe position. Majors tries to free himself, but that task is a day and a half on its own when your back has been abused by Razor. The big man goes to the other side of the ring, rushes across, leaves the ground, and lands a devastating dropkick that takes the wind out of Majors sails, and still leaves him tied up. Majors also has a rather large disadvantage, being incapable of seeing what is happening behind him. He can't anticipate Razor arrival and move out of the way. Instead, he's going to have to find another way out before he becomes a gold star patient of the Pure Class chiropractors. The big man rushes across the ring, his shoulder extended, and rams Majors in the spine, almost knocking him from the post. The crowd gives an "Oooooooh" with every thrust. Razor decides to free Majors from his entrapment, lifting him by the head and slamming him into the canvas with a brutal spike DDT. He flips Majors over and goes for a cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors finds a way to throw a shoulder up. The cocky, yet slightly tunnel visioned Razor chuckles and shakes his head, grabbing Majors by the shoulder and bringing him to his feet. A forearm finds the temple and Razor massive arms wrap around Majors back. The Big Dog brings Majors off the ground and locks him in a massive bearhug, strategically placing the knuckles against the small of the back so Majors will scream that much louder.
Jerry Andrews: Razor has got Majors exactly where he wants him. This could be the end for him right here.
Majors grimaces and tries to reach out for the ropes, but Razor isn't letting him get anywhere other than next to the special referee. The ref asks if Majors gives up, and Impact shouts with a resounding "NO" that riles the crowd up. Razor leans his shoulder in and applies more pressure, forcing Majors to let out another yelp of pain and again fight for the ropes.
Ace Anderson: Razor taking this methodically slow. He'll well aware that Majors is no where near strong enough to fight him at such a rate. Isolating the back is going to make it that much harder for him to fly around the ring as well.
Majors reaches out for the ropes one more time, but Razor bends him forward and digs his knuckles in even tighter.
The crowd is getting behind him with a "MAJORS" chant. Impact feels a shot of adrenaline through his body and tries to resist against the Big Dog. He fires off an elbow to the head, but it barely registers with Razor. Majors goes for another. A third. Fourth. And fifth. Razor finally realizes Majors is trying to break from the grip and reapplies the pressure. Majors isn't about to let up, bell clapping his hands around Razor's ears and finding a little breathing room. Another elbow finds the head. A right hand next. Majors finally figures a way to use The Big Dog's strength against him, shifting his legs around, hooking the neck, and pushing down, sending Razor over in a DDT. The crowd explodes.
Jerry Andrews: Majors managed to get out of the hold. Now is going to be able to do something with the available time?
With a hand firmly attached to his back, Rick Majors finally gets up to his own feet without Razor assistance. Although, he does find The Big Dog rushing over with angry intentions. A right hand recoils the big man. Majors takes a hold of his wrist and launches Razor into the cable. He easily gets reversed, but ducks underneath the clothesline, hits the middle rope behind Razor and leaps into the air. Turning 180 degrees, Majors lands with a jumping calf kick, catching Razor in the chest and knocking him onto a knee. Majors rifles off a kick and springboards to the top rope, balancing himself like a cat, and flipping backwards to land a corkscrew that sends Razor down onto his back. Majors doesn't go for a cover, noticing how quickly Razor rises up to his feet. The man can take a lot of abuse and keep on ticking. Majors steps between the ropes and hops up top, a step ahead of the rebounding Razor who looks around the ring wondering where his opposition is. Pushing from his legs, Majors flies into the air and barely manages to get over the outstretched arms of Razor, landing a cross body with just over two hundred pounds crashing down on the neck. Majors makes sure to land on his side and rolls away from The Big Dog, putting himself at the opposite side of the ring. Immediately when he reaches the ropes, Majors jumps up and connects on a moonsault. Razor finally stays down and Majors hooks the leg.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Razor presses Majors off and onto the side of the ring. Majors looks over at him, and rolls to the apron. Majors waits for Razor to get to his feet, and then he thrusts between the top and middle rope, looking for a shoulder block that doubles Razor Blade over. A few more half hatch knee strikes find their mark on Razor while Majors has him in a clinch. Rick Majors lifts Razor from the mat and lifts him in his arms before dropping his lower back against his knee and press down on Razor’s head as he stretches the body out. Razor manages to roll off the knee and trips Rick Majors grabbing his foot. In a flash Razor locks in an ankle lock and wraps his legs around the affected leg to inflict more pressure.
Ace Anderson: Razor showing some real acumen in this match. I'm not sure if I'm impressed by him, or worried for Majors.
Several agonizing seconds tick by with the grapevined hold in. Majors howls in pain and grimaces, biting down on a knuckle to keep from yelling. At length, Rick is able to kick with his free foot, and it comes across the lip and chin of Razor several times, enough to make blood flow a bit more freely from the lip. Razor Blade releases the hold and rolls away, squinting in confusion at the sudden claret. With Razor on the outside, blood trickling down his bottom lip, Majors has time to catch his breath and get to a sitting position. Throwing himself off the ropes, Majors charges ahead and nails a suicide dive, pushing Razor against the barricade. The Big Dog goes down onto his hands and knees once again. Majors gets to his feet, holding his hands up to receive a burst of energy from the crowd. Majors rushes across to the adjacent side of the ring, charges back, and lands a superkick to the head. Majors grabs Razor by the head, slams him into the ring steps, and shovels him back into the ring. After taking such a nasty shot to the head, most men would be down for the count. Although, Razor isn't most men. He's already getting back up to his feet and preparing for even more punishment, all of which Rick Majors is more than happy to provide, as he comes in with a boot to the gut and a front facelock cutter, with perhaps more oomph than we've seen from Rick Majors in a while.
Jerry Andrews: Majors wants Razor Blade to Believe In This!
Ace Anderson: But... just like that, Majors adrenaline shot seems to be spent!
It's true, Majors is laying on his back inches away from Razor Blade, who is spread eagled with his eyes closed. Majors takes a second to blink, ands wipe the sweat out of his eyes, trying to gather his wits. He slowly starts to get to his feet.
Jerry Andrews: If Majors can take advantage here, this could be his match. He just has to..... what the hell?
Suddenly hundreds of balloons fall from the ceiling, accompanied by streamers and confetti.
Ace Anderson: What is going on? Is this for something we have scheduled later tonight?
Jerry Andrews: I'm looking at my line-up sheet and... I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, I'm not sure what to say here.
Majors looks around the ring, but it's tough for him to see with all the balloons and then.... BAM!!!
Suddenly, leaping out of the balloons is.... Seromine!
Jerry Andrews: What in the hell!? Rick, look out behind you....
It's too late. Seromine is behind Majors and when he turns around... Little Boy Blue!!!!
Ace Andrews: Rick Majors has been LAID OUT by Seromine! The balloons are still falling! I don't know if the referee or Razor saw it!
Seromine bolts out of the ring as the balloon avalanche eventually begins to subside. Majors is flat on his back. Razor crawls over to him:
1....
2.....
3!!!
DING DING DING!!!
Ace Anderson: Razor Blade has done it! He's done it! Razor wins! Razor wins! Razor wins!
Jerry Andrews: Yeah, thanks to Seromine!
Ace Anderson: Don't take this moment away from him.
Razor raises his arms in victory as Seromine remains on the outside of the ring, playing with the balloons that have fallen. He bounces a few up in the air, chasing them around the ringside area, before following one over the ringside barrier and into the crowd, where he disappears backstage, giggling with glee as his balloon bounces around.
The camera cuts over to show Darren Hughes, already in the ring, looking anxious. His upper lip is visibly sweating as the camera cuts back to the ramp. 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. Darren hangs his head, not wanting to look at Sicko.
Jerry Andrews: Poor Darren Hughes... none of his usual air guitar, high energy entrance is evident tonight. He is staring across the ring at Sicko like someone who is being marched to the gallows.
Ace Anderson: He may as well be... he hasn't had the best track record since he came back, despite a strong start against Kyle Shane. And he in particular knows how brutal Sicko can be.
As the bell rings, Darren's upper lip firms with conviction, as if he is telling himself any man with two hands has a fighting chance. Hughes rockets across the ring, meeting Sicko and lighting him up with a harsh elbow shot that makes Sicko blink. Two more right hands connect with Sicko's face, not moving the giant, but landing with such pure babyface fire that the crowd responds positively. However one last punch makes Sicko's head snap to the side, and Sicko's head turns, slowly back to front facing, with a deepening glower that spells out how much trouble Darren Hughes is in; the ice cream vending Terminator's eyes glare and he grips Hughes by the temples and smashes him with a headbutt. Hughes immediately goes limp in Sicko's clutches, seeing stars.
Jerry Andrews: Good LORD, Hughes got nailed with a head about the size of your average typerwriter.
Ace Anderson: Exactly why most publications switched to digital.
Sicko takes the dazed Hughes into his arms, and screams epithets that shake the people in the front row to their core. He whips Hughes into the corner and then he comes charging in, colliding with Hughes in an avalanche that envelops the light heavyweight. When Sicko pulls back just enough Hughes limply falls down. Sicko, not finished, begins stomping Hughes relentlessly in the corner. All the referee can do is watch the aggravated assault. Finally, Sicko finishes stomping, and he lifts Hughes up to his feet and Biel tosses him clear to the other side of the ring. Hughes arches his back in pain at the hard landing. Sicko, grabbing the young man roughly by the hair, drags him up and dumps him onto a shoulder, walking him over to the ropes. Sicko steps over the top rope with Hughes on his shoulder, then Sicko stands on the aisle. Sicko performs a pumphandle lift to get Hughes up onto his shoulder, huffs a breath and then absolutely destroys Hughes by dropping him onto the apron with a pumphandle Death valley driver. Darren yells and immediately grips at his affected areas in pain, slumping halfway off the apron. If an HUD was showing like in a video game, his player would be in the deep yellow to orange. But Sicko, an angry snarl on his face, wants that display to turn red. Sicko turns his head to bark an affirmation to the dark passenger in his head. He grips Darren Hughes by the arm and slides him down the apron.
Jerry Andrews: Come on, that Brimstone has to be enough to get him the pin fall.
Ace Anderson: When Hughes' neck connected with the hardest part of the ring, I think it was over then. But Sicko isn't satisfied.
Sicko pulls Darren onto a part of the apron, pulling him under the bottom rope, in the ring, and pulling Darren until his shoulder is touching the steel ringpost. In familiar fashion to Muscles Malone, Sicko pulls the arm back, and then he dashes it into the steel ringpost with as much force as he can. Darren Hughes groans and contorts under the bottom turnbuckle, and curls up in a ball. Sicko stretches the arm back out, and then he slams it into the ringpost again. Darren convulses again. Sicko then grips the head of Darren under the bottom rope, pulling it out so that Darren's head is set against the ringpost now. Sicko turns like a great battleship, and he shouts abuse at a cameraman following too closely, shoving him out of the way. Sicko backs up five paces, and then charges in, and Tutti fuckin fruity, Sicko pastes Darren with an FCS RIGHT INTO THE RINGPOST, sandwiching his head between the pole and a giant clown boot. If Darren wasnt' in the red before... man. Darren is laid in a pile against the ringpost, crumpled and not moving, and the referee can basically do nothing to stop it. All the same, the referee pleads with Sicko, telling him to end this so he can get the man medical attention. Sicko, not having any of that, listens to what the wicked voice in his head is telling him, and he pulls on the top rope and climbs into the ring, stalking the now barely conscious lump of former humanity. Sicko claps the back of Darren Hughes, grips the arms and pulls him back out into the ring... and then Sicko clamps on to both arms in a brutal double chickenwing submission. Sicko tightens up, pulling the arms of Darren back as far as they'll go as he locks his hands, and it's not enough to wake the lifeless Hughes but Sicko lifts the double chickenwing up to full height. The referee checks Darren, trying to ascertain his level of participation before ordering the bell rung.
Jerry Andrews: We just witnessed one of the worst massacres this arena has seen in a while.
Ace Anderson: Sicko used that Laughing Ghost submission in the ultimate show of disdain, he wiped Darren Hughes out with no remorse.
Before Sasha Greene can even announce him as the winner, Sicko is grabbing Darren Hughes by the back of the head. He lifts Hughes up and tosses him through the ropes to the outside, barking angrily at some fans at ringside. Then, he walks over, lifting Hughes up, and putting him over one shoulder. Sicko retrieves his Underground title from under the rope in one hand, and begins to methodically truck Darren on his shoulder up the ramp, intending to carry him into his ice cream truck and throw him into the back storage just like he had Razor Blade, Crazy Boy and others. The crowd is buzzing as Sicko continues his work of abducting Darren Hughes.
Jerry Andrews: He's doing it again! Sicko is carting Darren Hughes off, and putting him into his ice cream truck!
Ace Anderson: We may never see Darren again after Sicko disposes of him, he may be left in Parts Unknown, an Undiscovered Location, a fetid swamp, or Peoria. Or... worse!!
As Sicko is walking around to the back of his ice cream truck he shifts Darren's unconscious body around, trying to open the back door to the storage space. Suddenly, the door to the ice cream truck opens by itself, and Kyle Shane comes out of the back, holding a fire extinguisher, which he uses to spray a cloud of chemicals into Sicko's eyes! Sicko is enveloped in the cloud for a moment, and he drops Darren Hughes, forgetting him as Kyle Shane lets blast with another shot from the fire extinguisher, and Sicko, coughing and choking, turns away, scrubbing at his eyes. Kyle Shane comes after him, motioning to the crowd, and the camera pans over to see someone else hurrying in from the crowd. David Hunter is now coming at Sicko from the other side, and Kyle Shane cracks Sicko over the back of the head with the cannister. Sicko stumbles, but doesn't fall, and David Hunter meets Sicko in front of the ice cream truck. David Hunter then pops open the metal hood over the engine, and lays Sickos' arm across the open hood, and then Kyle Shane and David Hunter both grab a side of the hood and SLAM it down on Sicko's arm. Sicko lets out a bestial howl of pain as he falls down, gripping at his arm.
Jerry Andrews: What the hell - what is this?!
Ace Anderson: These two working together- they've managed to wound the monster!!
Kyle Shane and David Hunter are both booting Sicko while he's down and holding his arm against his side. The two of them work to lift the big man up, and together they walk him to the ring, where they throw him into the steel steps, which part with a loud crash. Sicko is still trying to pick himself up, and he pulls himself up against the section of steel steps. Suddenly, David Hunter goes running in and he leaves his feet, performing a jumping bicycle kick to the side of the head, kicking Sicko's head into the steel steps section.
Jerry Andrews: And an Ode to Frank kicks Sicko's head right into that steel.
Ace Anderson: You know, Sicko did some pretty bad damage to his opponent tonight, but the two of them are giving him a lot more to think about.
Kyle Shane motions to David Hunter, and Shane has picked up a steel chair. Kyle Shane takes the chair, and he pushes it into the side of Sicko's neck uncomfortably. Sicko gasps and claws at the chair with one hand. Kyle Shane looks down at Sicko with disdain, then he looks over at David Hunter, who is coming over with a mic.
David Hunter: You can't stay away, huh? You just can't let it go! Here I was, ready to move on. I was in the Icemann tournament, made it to the semi-finals. I lost. Fine, fair enough, I can deal with that. But just as I was ready to go forward with my career, I guess you decided that...this...wasn't done yet.
David shakes his head, getting down on the floor so that he's right next to Sicko's face, contorting in pain from Kyle's foot and the chair against his throat. David resides just out of reach of Sicko and his giant paws.
David Hunter: So you attacked me once again. Why Sicko? Because you wanted finality? I can respect that. But no...you did it...because I'm the only wrestler who gave you a reason to keep fighting. Darren Hughes? That joke? You murdered him tonight, but that wasn't satisfying for you. You kidnapped the majority of the Underground division, but there was no joy in it. You kidnapped, attacked, and damn near destroyed Razor Blade, and why? Because I show empathy for him? Because I think he's attractive? But that's all. There was no happiness when you injured him. The only form of joy...and sincerity...and purpose you found for being back here in PCW...was when you were facing me.
David takes a few moments to breathe in and out, letting his words sink in.
David Hunter: So fuck it.
David sets the mic down on the mats. He stands up, flinging the skirt of the apron up. He reaches under the ring, pulling out his barbed wire baseball bat. This earns him a mixed reaction from the crowd. He resumes his spot next to Sicko, the bat edging closer to the big man's face almost as a shield from his own clawing hands. Kyle can't help but shed a smirk given the situation. David reclaims the mic.
David Hunter: You want one more match. I can give you...one more...ffffinal...match. But since we've already gone up and down in a standard Underground affair a couple times, than I think we need to raise the stakes.
David points towards the Underground Championship with the bat, lying in a heap on the floor.
David Hunter: I don't know if the PCW Management are watching...or listening...but we're done doing whatever Sicko wants...and done conceding to whatever Sicko desires. The next...major event...from PCW...is Return to Glory X.
This gets a positive reaction from the crowd.
David Hunter: Yeah, that's right. I'll let you sit for a couple of weeks. Let you stew in your wounds like a wolf...who just lost its pride. You can do whatever you want on the Icey's. As far as I'm concerned, you'll have hell to pay come Return to Glory. Because you will be putting...my...crown...on the line. Against me. One on one. Master of Death Match!
Despite not knowing what that is, the crowd can only cheer at its name.
David Hunter: You and I locked in a cell, surrounding ringside and chained so nobody can get in...and nobody can get out. If the ref is knocked out, than he will have to suffer until the match is over. Weapons of all kinds surround the ring and litter the cell walls and ceiling. The two of us will fight until there is only one winner. And by God...by...God...because he's the only one who can save you now...I hope you're ready for one more battle in this war...because Sicko...one of us will have to die...to end it.
David throws the mic away. He reaches his feet, lifting the bat up over his head. He brings it down, while at the last moment, Kyle moves his foot. The barbed wire bat slams into the chair, half of the barbed wire reaching across Sicko's face while the other half helps jam the chair into his throat.
It is then that security, EMT's, and various referees come out to step in between the assailants. With the crowd decisively booing these two men, a couple of beefy men in suits shove David and Kyle away. The two look down at Sicko as he writhes in silent agony, neither looking proud, neither looking happy, both scowling at the opponent they just bodied.
Ace Anderson: A Master of Death Match?
Jerry Andrews: David and Sicko can barely help kill each other in a normal Underground Match! What in the absolute hell would they do in a match...where it's designed for the participants to kill each other!?
David and Kyle are led to the back by the security team, a barbed wire bat over David's shoulder, and nary an expression on Kyle's, as the feed cuts to a commercial.
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 spiralling 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.
The lights shift to a sickly shade of yellow. A pale glow, as if the arena has been cast in the harvest moon’s reflection off the season’s first killing frost. With the sound of a sharp nib scratching across a ragged sheet of parchment, a sepia-toned cursive scrawls grimm across the PCW-Tron. The name flickers in the guttering candle light.
Thump. Clap. Thump. Clap. An incessant electric tremolo. The deep end of a piano. The ebb and flow of a dissonant wail builds to a wall of noise as Zeal and Ardor’s “You Ain’t Coming Back (Instrumental)" breaks forth upon the masses, heralding the arrival of Grimm.
A lone silhouette steps out onto the entry way, and as it begins the long walk to the ring, candle wax drips onto the parchment. The lights fall into a pestilential throbbing, in and out of time with the discordance raging from the speakers. The Hangtown Horror remains deadset on the ring, steadfast in his approach. He climbs onto the apron and slides between the ropes. Hopping upon a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down. And waits.
Without warning, the lights in the arena go out in a flash, and the sounds of rhythmic drums begin 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.
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.
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, as the overwhelming adulation continued. 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.
The PCW Arena is plugged into darkness as the opening hook to "Amazing" by Kanye West blasts out over the PA. Suddenly a spotlight blasts down onto the stage, revealing Gerard Angelo down on one knee with his back to the crowd, hood pulled low over his face. He bursts suddenly to his feet, spinning around to face the PCW Faithful as the house lights come on, leading to the Faithful erupting into cheers as he pulls his hood back. Gerard smirks as he surveys the fans from behind his sunglasses, extending his arms as if absorbing the energy from the crowd.
Gerry walks down the ramp, cocky and confident as always, pointing at the fans wearing his merch, telling them they made a solid investment. He stops at the ring stairs and slaps the top step before climbing them, and walking to the center of the ring apron. Angelo surveys the PCW Arena once more before slipping through the middle and top rope into the ring. He runs to the opposite ring post and leaps onto the second turnbuckle. Gerry points to the crowd before unzipping his hoodie, pulling it off and tossing it to the Faithful. "The Hollywood Hero" hops down and removes his trademark sunglasses as he leans against the turnbuckles, awaiting his adversary.
DING!
DING!
DING!
Throwing caution to the wind, Gerard immediately sprints at Grimm, taking him through the ropes with a tackle, then pummeling him once outside. It gets the crowd fired up for what should be an explosive encounter. Grimm covers up to protect himself but Gerard pries him open like he had a crowbar in hand. Angered by the attempt to end his career, a fiery Hollywood Hero beats Grimm about the ring, stopping long enough to back body drop him into the fans!
Dominator and Stormm spar for round four. Stormm throws his heavy best at the towering Zenith, but Dominator is able to swat him back like a fly. Stormm, undeterred, returns just in time to catch an attempted big boot, enabling him to score a dragon leg screw whip! Dominator bellows as he knee is clutched. Gerard shuts him up with a sudden springboard moonsault! Grimm re-enters the picture and is dropped by Stormm who connects with a running lariat. Dominator is put over the top once he stands, but remains upright once he lands.
Order is restored the best it can be with Gerard working Grimm over in the corner. Stormm steps onto the apron, as does the angry giant opposite him. The stomps come heavy and hard on Grimm's chest as Gerard tests the merit of the five count. He backs off long enough to abide by the rules, but is otherwise dishing out the punishment with retribution on his mind. Grimm is swung into enemy territory. Gerry blasts him with a running uppercut. Stormm is tagged in and the two work a double suplex. Stormm floats over for a pin.
1.
2.
Grimm is having none of that and is cut off from any escape route. Stormm brings him for a series of knife edge chops. As Grimm spins away, he stuns Stormm with a mule kick. The Hangtown Horror makes a move for his corner. Stormm pulls him back by the seat of his pants, planting him with a pumphandle brainbuster! Stormm throws daggers at Dominator, but keeps his wits in place as Gerard is tagged back in.
Jerry Andrews: You couldn't ask for a better start if you are Gerard and Stormm.
Ace Anderson: They ambushed the champions and have yet to stay within the rules. The ref is totally biased.
Jerry Andrews: When did you become a conspiracy theorist?
Grimm is worked with a trio of arm drags. After the third he catches Angelo with a quick elbow to the jaw. Grimm attempts to feed him to Dominator, only Gerard puts a forearm flush in his face, then a quick spin move to get behind Grimm. Phinehas drops his weight to pull Gerry forward. This is when Dominator pastes him with a massive right hook. Gerard goes down like a ton of bricks. Then the tag happens.
Dominator lifts Gerard off his feet with one hand around his neck. The former World champion tries everything he can to get free, but Dominator is having none of it. A one arm chokeslam is heard through the entire arena. Dominator isn't done. He gives Gerard a second, more forceful chokeslam for good measure. Then his focus goes to Stormm. The fans rally behind him. Stormm requests their cheers to get louder and louder. Dominator has his attention pulled by Horacio who instructs him not to lose his focus. Or time.
Big boot meet Gerard, Gerard meet big boot. The force is so strong that Gerard is turned inside out. Dominator calmly walks over to Grimm. The tag is made and the top two champions trade places. Gerard is ran to a corner for a turnbuckle smash. He comes back with a series of strikes, but Grimm shuts that down with a digging (not raking) of the eyes. Gerard backs up in the corner, taking boots to the midsection on his way to slumping.
Jerry Andrews: Grimm is choking him out!
Ace Anderson: That'll stop Gerard from foolishly threatening Grimm. No good ever comes to those who do it. It's part of his legend.
As Gerard gasps for air, Grimm takes him out of the corner. Dominator is tagged in. Grimm lifts Gerard for a suplex. Dominator hits the ropes to fire back with a massive spear while Grimm falls backwards. The two rotate out, leaving Dominator to control the pace. Gerard is picked up for a fallaway slam. Then pressed in the air. He starts to show signs of life. Dominator's grip loosens! Gerard falls behind Dominator...sleeperhold!
GERRY! GERRY! GERRY!
Those chants do nothing to turn the tide. Dominator has too much strength to succumb. Gerard is ripped head over heels, but he counters into a DDT! Dominator is stood straight up. The Man without Peer fights with everything he has to crawl for his corner...STORMM IS IN!
The Force of Nature wastes little time in chopping down the redwood at his trunks. With Dominator cut down to size, Stormm hits him flush with a powerful dropkick. Ot doesn't put him down. A running clothesline pushes him back, but Dominator still has way too much in him. Stormm fires off every punch and every kick style he can think of to chip away at the armor. Horacio barks out orders but they aren't being implemented.
Finally Stormm stuns The Temporal King with a shining wizard. He moves in for a follow-up. Dominator throws Stormm off his feet and into the ropes. He returns to catch a spear for his troubles. Michaels doubles on the canvas, however, he gets himself out of the ring. Grimm has his hand tagged. He drops down to pick the flesh off the carcass of Stormm.
He begins with an introduction to the ring steps to soften up the torso. This is followed with a face first trip onto the ring apron. Stormm fires up after that as Grimm has his own face slammed onto the hardest part of the ring. Grimm fires right back with a stiff headbutt to put Stormm on spaghetti legs. He's then rolled back inside and pinned.
1.
2.
Stormm kicks out at two on the button. Gerard begins slapping the buckle. The fans clap along to rally Stormm back to life. Dominator is tagged in. Stormm finds himself stretched out with his midsection in particular being exposed. A HEAVY right buries Stormm. The shot is the kind that could break ribs. Dominator wastes no time in squeezing his advesary in a torture rack. Dominator pulls on Stormm for added punishment, but there's absolutely no give in him.
Ace Anderson: He's tapping! Dominator goes to 4-0 against him and remains undefeated over the last nine months!
Jerry Andrews: Will you stop?! Stormm did nothing of the sort. If you're that delusional, I'd suggest having your meds increased.
Knowing he can't procure a submission, Dominator changes course and instead takes Stormm down with a neckbreaker. Grimm gets the tag back into the match. He attempts to swing Stormm into a neckbreaker, only to be countered into a backslide!
1!
2!
Grimm gets free. He also fights off a belly to belly suplex. LAMENT CONFIGURATION. Gerard comes roaring past the ref as he takes some action against Grimm. ONE HIT WONDER. Dominator steps over the ropes like they were nothing. FORCE OF TIME is stopped cold with a second ONE HIT WONDER. But that gives Dominator further incentive to try again and he's successful! The problem now is that the three smaller men are down and Dominator is shaking out the cobwebs. But the faithful are getting their money's worth!
Gerard rolls himself out of the ring. Dominator adjusts his jaw on the apron. Stormm and Grimm slowly work their way back up. Grimm throws headbutts; Stormm throws strikes. The two collide in the center and knock one another for a loop. FLASH FLOOD HITS! Stormm starts to make a move for his corner. Dominator is tagged first. He speeds to where Gerard is standing in the corner, but eats a shoulder to his gut. Stormm tags Gerard!
A springboard sommersault over Dominator carries Gerard into a sprint to the ropes. Dominator is pulled into a backstabber! The Temporal Tyrant grabs his lumbar. While doing that, Angelo lands a beauty of a corkscrew splash on him from the top rope! He hooks a leg.
1!
2!
Dominator presses him off. Gerard rolls under the bottom rope. He hits a springboard missile dropkick that sends Dominator on the heels of his feet. Dom lunges for "The One" but comes up empty. He does catch Gerard on an attempted springboard moonsault, planting him with a running powerslam almost instantly. Gerard is pulled away from safety. Grimm is tagged in. He pulls Gerard up only to shoot him right over the top into the ring post.
Grimm seizes the moment at hand. With everything lining up perfectly, it's not long before he goes for THE HARVEST to end this and award The Black Hand a momentum carrying victory. Gerard balks at playing the victim! He sets Grimm up for HOLLYWOOD ENDING. Grimm rakes the eyes to prevent it. CHOP BLOCK to the left knee!
Jerry Andrews: Damnit! Grimm is trying to end Gerard's career!
Ace Anderson: Maybe he should've retired when he had the chance. Bad things happen to those who pester Grimm.
Stormm has the presence of mind to blind tag himself in. Gerard rolls out of the ring clinging to his knee in obvious pain. Stormm takes Grimm pillar to post with everything he has, making sure the World champion knows that others are coming for his crown. Grimm reverses a whip, but is maneuvered into a HANGCLOUD DDT. Stormm has him pinned.
1!
2!
3---DOMINATOR BREAKS THE COUNT
Grimm was in the process of beating the three, but it doesn't hurt to have an able bodied partner. Stormm is lifted off the mat only to be sent flying to a corner. A charging Dominator gets nothing but ring post. Stormm moves in on Grimm. He leaps up and hits THE HARVEST with sudden surprise! Stormm is pinned.
1!
2!
3!
The bell is called for.
Not because Grimm pinned Stormm...
But because GERARD ANGELO has introduced a steel chair and is going after Grimm with it, over and over and over with every ounce of anger he has. This match is over because of a disqualification. Gerard doesn't care. Grimm went at his knee and he saw red.
The last chair shots are on Grimm's own knees. Unsatisfied, he picks Grimm up in HOLLYWOOD ENDING with the chair becoming a future crash pad. Dominator rescues his partner by throttling Gerard around the neck. Stormm recovers to stop Dominator with his own chair shots! The Zenith is driven from the ring. Amidst the chaos, Grimm managed to escape his fate, but Gerard let's him know payback is coming at Return to Glory.
Jerry Andrews: What a wild conclusion this has become!
Ace Anderson: They couldn't get the job done, so a chair got brought in. This match might as well have been a handicap.
Jerry Andrews: There's plenty of unfinished business between these four and things will surely explode further.
Stormm and Gerard remain in the ring as The Black Hand start to exit with their titles.
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Jason!
Happy birthday to you!"
Lucy leaves a lipstick kiss on her son's cheek before offering a cheery round of applause for the celebration. Seromine, sitting directly to her left, smiles and blows out the forty-one candles that have meticulously been arranged on his floral cake. This brings another round of applause, but one he joins in on.
Gathered around the table are reasonable facsimiles of PCW superstars in limited attendance. Seromine doesn't consider them his friends, but his mom went through the trouble of "inviting" them to this, so here they are with party hats and gifts.
Except for Grimm. He has a plastic shovel in front of him. It's blue with a yellow handle and one that usually is found with a sand bucket. Seromine was allowed to open a gift early. Shh. Birthday decorations are hung all around the room, dressing it up with something for moonlight to hit through the four-panel window with the orange tree (or is it...trees?) outside. An already played game of pin the tail on the donkey is seen in the background.
Lucy removes the candles. Then because knives are sharp, she carefully guides Seromine's hand through each slice of cake for the guests. You would think they'd be more appreciative for the time she put into making it from scratch and with love. But no. THEIR mothers never taught them manners!
"This is the best day ever, mommy!" Seromine proclaims as he cuts himself a piece of cake.
"I knew you'd like it! I just knew! I told myself all week that this had to be special and look! It is! After all, you're my special little boy and today is the day..." She pauses with her thought. "The day I fell in love." Lucy practically sighs as her heart flutters with memories.
"Mommy? When can I open my other gifts??"
"Oh, I think you should take just a few more bites first! Then you can."
Seromine agrees and in no time has met the prerequisite. He looks to his guests. Grimm. Stormm. Gerard Angelo. Kyle Shane. Dominator. Razor Blade...
"Where's Rick Majors?"
Lucy clears her throat. She sets her paper plate on the table and then turns to face her son like a parent who has to explain something terrible in the easiest way possible. She takes his hands and looks him in the eyes.
"He already ruined one birthday. I couldn't allow him to ruin a second one. Could I? --- what kind of mother would I be then?"
Seromine nods. "I understand. But mommy, you're already the best! I love you!"
He catches Lucy with a sudden hug, one that she's all too happy to embrace. She runs her hands up and down his back while squeezing him tight.
"I love you too, sweetie. Say! I know what we'll do. How about you and I take a little road trip to Return to Glory and ruin his night? Does that sound like fun?!"
Her eyes are wide and brows raised. He rests his head on hers. "It's a date."
Her smile couldn't be any bigger. "It's a date!" She sits back up. "How about we open some presents?"
"Oh boy! Presents!"
Lucy offers her support and approval to everything he takes out of the colorful boxes. Thankfully toys, because nobody likes getting clothes for their birthday.
Although Lucy does know how to make them. The party continues, but your attendance is no longer welcomed. Go enjoy the show.
Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday July 18th, 2019
Thursday July 18th, 2019
Trauma opens with the usual loud music, pyro, and cheering fans. Jerry Andrews and Ace Anderson are seated at ringside.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, we are rapidly approaching Return to Glory X and tonight on Trauma we have a huge show for you! I'm Jerry Andrews and...
Ace Anderson: ... I'm Ace Anderson! Tonight's card will have some serious implications for Return to Glory and I, for one, can't wait!
The lights go out. The crowd cheers instinctively before eventually falling 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.
Wearing a black denim military jacket, a grey t-shirt, and jeans, Rick Majors pauses for a moment and looks down briefly. He then looks up and starts to make his way to the ring.
"This is war with no weapons,
Marching with no stepping,
Murder with no killing,
Illing every direction."
Majors walks slowly, looking out around the arena as he continues his way down to the ring.
"And no, I'm not afraid of that
Print it in your paperback
Every rap is made in fact
To act as a delayed attack
Every phrase a razor blade
That's saved until they play it back
To slay and leave em laying on the pavement
Bang, fade to black"
The lights in the arena burst on fully as the song's chorus hits.
In the wastelands of today,
When there's nothing left to lose,
And and there's nothing more to take,
But you force yourself to choose,
In the wastelands of today,
When tomorrow disappears
When the future slips away,
And your hope turns into fear,
In the wastelands of today.
Majors climbs the ring steps and pauses. He turns towards the crowd, standing on the ring apron for a moment before entering the ring. Majors stands in the centre of the ring, looking out towards the crowd, awaiting the start of the match.
Jerry Andrews: What an ovation for Majors tonight!
Ace Anderson: When you talk about getting your career back on track, you just know, Majors is trying to do everything he can to become a new man and distance himself from this past year. He's been busting his ass, and I think tonight he's going to try and show us all why he can never be overlooked.
Majors asks for a microphone and he begins to speak.
Rick Majors: So, no disrespect to my opponent here tonight, but before the match starts I just want to say a little bit. On the last Trauma, you saw me dress like an eagle to ambush Seromine. Now, I know that was a little childish. It was fun, but it was childish. I mean, I wore an eagle costume and popped someone's balloon for crying out loud.
The crowd cheers.
Rick Majors: But here's why I did it. You see, when Seromine was leading his cult, he looked like he was all powerful. He had me and Tyler Scott and Holden Ross all by his side and he was ruling the world. But things haven't gone too well for Seromine recently, have they? After being embarrassed by myself and Kyle Shane and Stormm and Grimm... well.. he hasn't really been himself, now has he? He's walking around with his mommy, holding balloons and playing games. And I get it, Jason. I get why you've regressed to this state. Your world fell apart and this is safety for you. You've gone back to your childhood to protect yourself.
Majors pauses for a moment. He then looks right into the camera.
Rick Majors: But there's no safety for you. There's no security. There's no "Happy Place." That's why I did what I did. The innocence of childhood can't save you. There's nowhere for you to go. If you want to play games, I'll be right there. If you want to hold balloons and take photos with costumed characters, I'll be there. Wherever you go, I will be right with you making your life miserable. I will gladly come into your world and drop you on your head to show you that you cannot run from reality.
The crowd cheers.
Rick Majors: You don't get to have peace. You don't get to have safety. You don't get to escape. This isn't over until I say it's over. And, Jason, it's far from over.
Majors drops the mic to the mat and looks up the ramp for his opponent.
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, already in the ring, ighs in at 227 lbs... RICK "IMPACT" MAJORS!!. And his opponent, he weighs in at 265 lbs... RAZOR BLADE!!
"The Truth Reigns" begins playing on the PA. Razor comes out from the back of the audience. He walks down the steps and high fives his fans. He walks down the steps and climbs over the barricade; stopping for a minute, he hops on the apron. He raises both of his arms in the air. Razor gets down, waiting for his opponent to arrive.
Jerry Andrews: In recent weeks, Razor Blade has had a full dance card, putting up fights against names like our very own World Champion, Grimm, and vying for the Underground title. Tonight, he is trying his best to get a big win.
Ace Anderson: Trying being the operative word, Jerry. Look, we know the kid's trying, but... eh... bless his heart, that's all I can say.
Singles Match
Rick Majors vs Razor Blade
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
Rick Majors vs Razor Blade
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
Majors and Razor do the awkward dance, circling around one another in the ring. Razor goes in for a shoot on Majors, but Impact manages to scurry out of his reach and back against the ropes. Majors scurries around, trying to find an edge and get underneath the self professed Big Dog, but he's not having much luck. Majors steps forward, underneath a collar and elbow tie up, swings around the right arm of Razor and tries to hook the left. He falls backwards in a crucifix pin, but Razor strains and uses his 265 pounds of pure muscle to launch Majors overhead and back into the corner. To say that he's flabbergasted would be an understatement. Majors rolls to his feet and edges out of the corner, not wanting to be trapped. Razor moves forward again, looking for any kind of clinch, but Majors lands a leg kick and sticks Razor with a jab on the side of the head. The Big Dog barely looks fazed by the blow and tries to grasp his rival, but to no such luck. Majors ducks underneath his outstretched arms, and he fires off a standing dropkick to the chest. Much to his dismay, however, the force isn't enough to knock Razor down. Majors looks to the side for a moment before getting to his feet. Majors sprints to the ropes, and hurls himself at Razor Blade with a crossbody. But all this does is place him in Razor's clutches. Razor switches to a military press and pushes Majors over his head, pressing him twice before transitioning to a powerslam, the velocity bouncing Impact off the canvas.
Jerry Andrews: That's never the way you want to wake up, with someone like that hovering over you.
Razor Blade turns to the crowd, letting out an "OOOOOOOOOAHHHH" roar. He turns back to his adversary, and the boots come in quick and painful to Majors, who is left with no choice but to roll out of the ring and down to the floor. Never one to back down from a fight, especially one he believes he can dominate, Razor rolls out and meets Majors with a right hand. Before Majors can strike back, two hands find their way around his throat and yank him from the ringside mats and into the ring post. The crowd lets out an "OOOOOH" of sympathy as Rick collides upside down and falls into an uncomfortable position on his neck. The thud is sickening enough, but the anguish Majors finds himself in is almost indescribable. He's writhing around on the floor, trying to figure out if everything is still in place. On top of all that, a behemoth is stalking over to him with the intent to do even more damage. A fist finds Majors forehead and makes him roll over. When he sees the injured body part, Razor is all too happy to drop an elbow and listen to the ungodly sounds Majors makes. Razor rolls over and gets back to his feet. He moves about five feet away from Majors. Razor Blade then shouts out that it's his yard, leaps into the air, and lands a body splash on the lower back. The crowd is amazed.
Jerry Andrews: Razor starting this match off with a bang and taking it at his pace. There is no way Majors can stand this kind of brutality for much longer.
Ace Anderson: And I think it's going to get a lot worse.
The referee admonishes Razor Blade to get it back in the ring. Razor Blade waves him off arrogantly. Razor Blade takes a moment to stomp Rick a few times, then he lifts the smaller man up and slams his head off the apron. Then, with Majors dazed, and only then does Razor roll him into the ring, following along behind. Razor shoots Majors into the ropes and lands a nasty Samoan drop that shakes the ring. Razor goes for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors shoots the shoulder out. Majors rolls onto one shoulder, blinking and trying to get back in the swing of things. Razor lifts Majors off the mat and goes to throw a punch, but Majors manages to get a jab in. A stunned Razor is caught off guard as Majors grabs his head and drives a few Muay Thai knee lifts, followed by dirty elbows. One of the hard hitting elbow strikes split Razor's lip open and make him turn his head. Majors releases the clinch, backs up and lunges forward with a clothesline that floors Razor. He transitions down toward the knee of the big man. This move, when done correctly, can cause a significant amount of pain. Razor yells in pain, contorting and throwing his arms in the middle of the ring. He lunges towards the ropes, but The Impact isn’t making it easy. Finally, Razor manages to make it to the ropes and the referee forces Majors to break the hold.
Ace Anderson: Now you know if the roles had been reversed Razor wouldn’t have broken the hold.
Jerry Andrews: Sure, because Razor Blade is synonymous with killer instinct, right?
Ace Anderson: No, but of everyone, I think he's the one who's desperate enough for a win.
Razor tries to stand on his now sore leg, but Majors is like a shark that smells blood and quickly goes back to work. He drives a shoulder into the back of the injured knee and forces Razor to collapse on the bad knee. He quickly backs up and executes a side kick to the back of Razor’s head. Razor falls, and Majors scoots in, dropping an elbow on the bad leg. Razor tries to pull himself up again but Majors, picking up the tempo, charges in and hits a swinging neckbreaker on the fly. Then, Majors drops down for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors looks annoyed, but he goes to pick the leg and stomps it several times. Razor yells in pain and holds his limb, and he pushes himself up. Majors lifts Razor up, trying to support the weight on the bad side, but suddenly Razor breaks free with a stone fisted uppercut. Razor huffs, and shakes his knee out as he begins climbing his way to his feet. Rick Majors, holding his jaw, turns around and he is grabbed by Razor. Razor launches Majors into the corner buckles and he gives it less than one heartbeat before coming in with vicious clothesline that almost puts Majors into the front row. Razor turns to hold his arms up arrogantly to the crowd. Rick slumps out of the corner, breathing heavily. Impact still finds himself on the defensive, and Razor is about to get innovative with it. He swings Majors around, tilting him upside down and letting him face the turnbuckles. The Big Dog contorts Majors legs and ties them in the ring post, a reverse tree of woe position. Majors tries to free himself, but that task is a day and a half on its own when your back has been abused by Razor. The big man goes to the other side of the ring, rushes across, leaves the ground, and lands a devastating dropkick that takes the wind out of Majors sails, and still leaves him tied up. Majors also has a rather large disadvantage, being incapable of seeing what is happening behind him. He can't anticipate Razor arrival and move out of the way. Instead, he's going to have to find another way out before he becomes a gold star patient of the Pure Class chiropractors. The big man rushes across the ring, his shoulder extended, and rams Majors in the spine, almost knocking him from the post. The crowd gives an "Oooooooh" with every thrust. Razor decides to free Majors from his entrapment, lifting him by the head and slamming him into the canvas with a brutal spike DDT. He flips Majors over and goes for a cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Majors finds a way to throw a shoulder up. The cocky, yet slightly tunnel visioned Razor chuckles and shakes his head, grabbing Majors by the shoulder and bringing him to his feet. A forearm finds the temple and Razor massive arms wrap around Majors back. The Big Dog brings Majors off the ground and locks him in a massive bearhug, strategically placing the knuckles against the small of the back so Majors will scream that much louder.
Jerry Andrews: Razor has got Majors exactly where he wants him. This could be the end for him right here.
Majors grimaces and tries to reach out for the ropes, but Razor isn't letting him get anywhere other than next to the special referee. The ref asks if Majors gives up, and Impact shouts with a resounding "NO" that riles the crowd up. Razor leans his shoulder in and applies more pressure, forcing Majors to let out another yelp of pain and again fight for the ropes.
Ace Anderson: Razor taking this methodically slow. He'll well aware that Majors is no where near strong enough to fight him at such a rate. Isolating the back is going to make it that much harder for him to fly around the ring as well.
Majors reaches out for the ropes one more time, but Razor bends him forward and digs his knuckles in even tighter.
The crowd is getting behind him with a "MAJORS" chant. Impact feels a shot of adrenaline through his body and tries to resist against the Big Dog. He fires off an elbow to the head, but it barely registers with Razor. Majors goes for another. A third. Fourth. And fifth. Razor finally realizes Majors is trying to break from the grip and reapplies the pressure. Majors isn't about to let up, bell clapping his hands around Razor's ears and finding a little breathing room. Another elbow finds the head. A right hand next. Majors finally figures a way to use The Big Dog's strength against him, shifting his legs around, hooking the neck, and pushing down, sending Razor over in a DDT. The crowd explodes.
Jerry Andrews: Majors managed to get out of the hold. Now is going to be able to do something with the available time?
With a hand firmly attached to his back, Rick Majors finally gets up to his own feet without Razor assistance. Although, he does find The Big Dog rushing over with angry intentions. A right hand recoils the big man. Majors takes a hold of his wrist and launches Razor into the cable. He easily gets reversed, but ducks underneath the clothesline, hits the middle rope behind Razor and leaps into the air. Turning 180 degrees, Majors lands with a jumping calf kick, catching Razor in the chest and knocking him onto a knee. Majors rifles off a kick and springboards to the top rope, balancing himself like a cat, and flipping backwards to land a corkscrew that sends Razor down onto his back. Majors doesn't go for a cover, noticing how quickly Razor rises up to his feet. The man can take a lot of abuse and keep on ticking. Majors steps between the ropes and hops up top, a step ahead of the rebounding Razor who looks around the ring wondering where his opposition is. Pushing from his legs, Majors flies into the air and barely manages to get over the outstretched arms of Razor, landing a cross body with just over two hundred pounds crashing down on the neck. Majors makes sure to land on his side and rolls away from The Big Dog, putting himself at the opposite side of the ring. Immediately when he reaches the ropes, Majors jumps up and connects on a moonsault. Razor finally stays down and Majors hooks the leg.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Razor presses Majors off and onto the side of the ring. Majors looks over at him, and rolls to the apron. Majors waits for Razor to get to his feet, and then he thrusts between the top and middle rope, looking for a shoulder block that doubles Razor Blade over. A few more half hatch knee strikes find their mark on Razor while Majors has him in a clinch. Rick Majors lifts Razor from the mat and lifts him in his arms before dropping his lower back against his knee and press down on Razor’s head as he stretches the body out. Razor manages to roll off the knee and trips Rick Majors grabbing his foot. In a flash Razor locks in an ankle lock and wraps his legs around the affected leg to inflict more pressure.
Ace Anderson: Razor showing some real acumen in this match. I'm not sure if I'm impressed by him, or worried for Majors.
Several agonizing seconds tick by with the grapevined hold in. Majors howls in pain and grimaces, biting down on a knuckle to keep from yelling. At length, Rick is able to kick with his free foot, and it comes across the lip and chin of Razor several times, enough to make blood flow a bit more freely from the lip. Razor Blade releases the hold and rolls away, squinting in confusion at the sudden claret. With Razor on the outside, blood trickling down his bottom lip, Majors has time to catch his breath and get to a sitting position. Throwing himself off the ropes, Majors charges ahead and nails a suicide dive, pushing Razor against the barricade. The Big Dog goes down onto his hands and knees once again. Majors gets to his feet, holding his hands up to receive a burst of energy from the crowd. Majors rushes across to the adjacent side of the ring, charges back, and lands a superkick to the head. Majors grabs Razor by the head, slams him into the ring steps, and shovels him back into the ring. After taking such a nasty shot to the head, most men would be down for the count. Although, Razor isn't most men. He's already getting back up to his feet and preparing for even more punishment, all of which Rick Majors is more than happy to provide, as he comes in with a boot to the gut and a front facelock cutter, with perhaps more oomph than we've seen from Rick Majors in a while.
Jerry Andrews: Majors wants Razor Blade to Believe In This!
Ace Anderson: But... just like that, Majors adrenaline shot seems to be spent!
It's true, Majors is laying on his back inches away from Razor Blade, who is spread eagled with his eyes closed. Majors takes a second to blink, ands wipe the sweat out of his eyes, trying to gather his wits. He slowly starts to get to his feet.
Jerry Andrews: If Majors can take advantage here, this could be his match. He just has to..... what the hell?
Suddenly hundreds of balloons fall from the ceiling, accompanied by streamers and confetti.
Ace Anderson: What is going on? Is this for something we have scheduled later tonight?
Jerry Andrews: I'm looking at my line-up sheet and... I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, I'm not sure what to say here.
Majors looks around the ring, but it's tough for him to see with all the balloons and then.... BAM!!!
Suddenly, leaping out of the balloons is.... Seromine!
Jerry Andrews: What in the hell!? Rick, look out behind you....
It's too late. Seromine is behind Majors and when he turns around... Little Boy Blue!!!!
Ace Andrews: Rick Majors has been LAID OUT by Seromine! The balloons are still falling! I don't know if the referee or Razor saw it!
Seromine bolts out of the ring as the balloon avalanche eventually begins to subside. Majors is flat on his back. Razor crawls over to him:
1....
2.....
3!!!
DING DING DING!!!
Ace Anderson: Razor Blade has done it! He's done it! Razor wins! Razor wins! Razor wins!
Jerry Andrews: Yeah, thanks to Seromine!
Ace Anderson: Don't take this moment away from him.
Sasha Greene: The winner of this match by pinfall: RAZOR BLADE!!!
Razor raises his arms in victory as Seromine remains on the outside of the ring, playing with the balloons that have fallen. He bounces a few up in the air, chasing them around the ringside area, before following one over the ringside barrier and into the crowd, where he disappears backstage, giggling with glee as his balloon bounces around.
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall and it is for the Pure Class Wrestling Underground Championship!
The camera cuts over to show Darren Hughes, already in the ring, looking anxious. His upper lip is visibly sweating as the camera cuts back to the ramp. 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. Darren hangs his head, not wanting to look at Sicko.
Sasha Greene: -- weighing in at 383 lbs... he is the Pure Class Wrestling Underground Champion... SICKO!!!
Jerry Andrews: Poor Darren Hughes... none of his usual air guitar, high energy entrance is evident tonight. He is staring across the ring at Sicko like someone who is being marched to the gallows.
Ace Anderson: He may as well be... he hasn't had the best track record since he came back, despite a strong start against Kyle Shane. And he in particular knows how brutal Sicko can be.
PCW Underground Championship
Sicko (PCW Underground 👑) vs Darren "The Bomber" Hughes
Referee: Ed Lane
Sicko (PCW Underground 👑) vs Darren "The Bomber" Hughes
Referee: Ed Lane
As the bell rings, Darren's upper lip firms with conviction, as if he is telling himself any man with two hands has a fighting chance. Hughes rockets across the ring, meeting Sicko and lighting him up with a harsh elbow shot that makes Sicko blink. Two more right hands connect with Sicko's face, not moving the giant, but landing with such pure babyface fire that the crowd responds positively. However one last punch makes Sicko's head snap to the side, and Sicko's head turns, slowly back to front facing, with a deepening glower that spells out how much trouble Darren Hughes is in; the ice cream vending Terminator's eyes glare and he grips Hughes by the temples and smashes him with a headbutt. Hughes immediately goes limp in Sicko's clutches, seeing stars.
Jerry Andrews: Good LORD, Hughes got nailed with a head about the size of your average typerwriter.
Ace Anderson: Exactly why most publications switched to digital.
Sicko takes the dazed Hughes into his arms, and screams epithets that shake the people in the front row to their core. He whips Hughes into the corner and then he comes charging in, colliding with Hughes in an avalanche that envelops the light heavyweight. When Sicko pulls back just enough Hughes limply falls down. Sicko, not finished, begins stomping Hughes relentlessly in the corner. All the referee can do is watch the aggravated assault. Finally, Sicko finishes stomping, and he lifts Hughes up to his feet and Biel tosses him clear to the other side of the ring. Hughes arches his back in pain at the hard landing. Sicko, grabbing the young man roughly by the hair, drags him up and dumps him onto a shoulder, walking him over to the ropes. Sicko steps over the top rope with Hughes on his shoulder, then Sicko stands on the aisle. Sicko performs a pumphandle lift to get Hughes up onto his shoulder, huffs a breath and then absolutely destroys Hughes by dropping him onto the apron with a pumphandle Death valley driver. Darren yells and immediately grips at his affected areas in pain, slumping halfway off the apron. If an HUD was showing like in a video game, his player would be in the deep yellow to orange. But Sicko, an angry snarl on his face, wants that display to turn red. Sicko turns his head to bark an affirmation to the dark passenger in his head. He grips Darren Hughes by the arm and slides him down the apron.
Jerry Andrews: Come on, that Brimstone has to be enough to get him the pin fall.
Ace Anderson: When Hughes' neck connected with the hardest part of the ring, I think it was over then. But Sicko isn't satisfied.
Sicko pulls Darren onto a part of the apron, pulling him under the bottom rope, in the ring, and pulling Darren until his shoulder is touching the steel ringpost. In familiar fashion to Muscles Malone, Sicko pulls the arm back, and then he dashes it into the steel ringpost with as much force as he can. Darren Hughes groans and contorts under the bottom turnbuckle, and curls up in a ball. Sicko stretches the arm back out, and then he slams it into the ringpost again. Darren convulses again. Sicko then grips the head of Darren under the bottom rope, pulling it out so that Darren's head is set against the ringpost now. Sicko turns like a great battleship, and he shouts abuse at a cameraman following too closely, shoving him out of the way. Sicko backs up five paces, and then charges in, and Tutti fuckin fruity, Sicko pastes Darren with an FCS RIGHT INTO THE RINGPOST, sandwiching his head between the pole and a giant clown boot. If Darren wasnt' in the red before... man. Darren is laid in a pile against the ringpost, crumpled and not moving, and the referee can basically do nothing to stop it. All the same, the referee pleads with Sicko, telling him to end this so he can get the man medical attention. Sicko, not having any of that, listens to what the wicked voice in his head is telling him, and he pulls on the top rope and climbs into the ring, stalking the now barely conscious lump of former humanity. Sicko claps the back of Darren Hughes, grips the arms and pulls him back out into the ring... and then Sicko clamps on to both arms in a brutal double chickenwing submission. Sicko tightens up, pulling the arms of Darren back as far as they'll go as he locks his hands, and it's not enough to wake the lifeless Hughes but Sicko lifts the double chickenwing up to full height. The referee checks Darren, trying to ascertain his level of participation before ordering the bell rung.
Jerry Andrews: We just witnessed one of the worst massacres this arena has seen in a while.
Ace Anderson: Sicko used that Laughing Ghost submission in the ultimate show of disdain, he wiped Darren Hughes out with no remorse.
Before Sasha Greene can even announce him as the winner, Sicko is grabbing Darren Hughes by the back of the head. He lifts Hughes up and tosses him through the ropes to the outside, barking angrily at some fans at ringside. Then, he walks over, lifting Hughes up, and putting him over one shoulder. Sicko retrieves his Underground title from under the rope in one hand, and begins to methodically truck Darren on his shoulder up the ramp, intending to carry him into his ice cream truck and throw him into the back storage just like he had Razor Blade, Crazy Boy and others. The crowd is buzzing as Sicko continues his work of abducting Darren Hughes.
Jerry Andrews: He's doing it again! Sicko is carting Darren Hughes off, and putting him into his ice cream truck!
Ace Anderson: We may never see Darren again after Sicko disposes of him, he may be left in Parts Unknown, an Undiscovered Location, a fetid swamp, or Peoria. Or... worse!!
As Sicko is walking around to the back of his ice cream truck he shifts Darren's unconscious body around, trying to open the back door to the storage space. Suddenly, the door to the ice cream truck opens by itself, and Kyle Shane comes out of the back, holding a fire extinguisher, which he uses to spray a cloud of chemicals into Sicko's eyes! Sicko is enveloped in the cloud for a moment, and he drops Darren Hughes, forgetting him as Kyle Shane lets blast with another shot from the fire extinguisher, and Sicko, coughing and choking, turns away, scrubbing at his eyes. Kyle Shane comes after him, motioning to the crowd, and the camera pans over to see someone else hurrying in from the crowd. David Hunter is now coming at Sicko from the other side, and Kyle Shane cracks Sicko over the back of the head with the cannister. Sicko stumbles, but doesn't fall, and David Hunter meets Sicko in front of the ice cream truck. David Hunter then pops open the metal hood over the engine, and lays Sickos' arm across the open hood, and then Kyle Shane and David Hunter both grab a side of the hood and SLAM it down on Sicko's arm. Sicko lets out a bestial howl of pain as he falls down, gripping at his arm.
Jerry Andrews: What the hell - what is this?!
Ace Anderson: These two working together- they've managed to wound the monster!!
Kyle Shane and David Hunter are both booting Sicko while he's down and holding his arm against his side. The two of them work to lift the big man up, and together they walk him to the ring, where they throw him into the steel steps, which part with a loud crash. Sicko is still trying to pick himself up, and he pulls himself up against the section of steel steps. Suddenly, David Hunter goes running in and he leaves his feet, performing a jumping bicycle kick to the side of the head, kicking Sicko's head into the steel steps section.
Jerry Andrews: And an Ode to Frank kicks Sicko's head right into that steel.
Ace Anderson: You know, Sicko did some pretty bad damage to his opponent tonight, but the two of them are giving him a lot more to think about.
Kyle Shane motions to David Hunter, and Shane has picked up a steel chair. Kyle Shane takes the chair, and he pushes it into the side of Sicko's neck uncomfortably. Sicko gasps and claws at the chair with one hand. Kyle Shane looks down at Sicko with disdain, then he looks over at David Hunter, who is coming over with a mic.
David Hunter: You can't stay away, huh? You just can't let it go! Here I was, ready to move on. I was in the Icemann tournament, made it to the semi-finals. I lost. Fine, fair enough, I can deal with that. But just as I was ready to go forward with my career, I guess you decided that...this...wasn't done yet.
David shakes his head, getting down on the floor so that he's right next to Sicko's face, contorting in pain from Kyle's foot and the chair against his throat. David resides just out of reach of Sicko and his giant paws.
David Hunter: So you attacked me once again. Why Sicko? Because you wanted finality? I can respect that. But no...you did it...because I'm the only wrestler who gave you a reason to keep fighting. Darren Hughes? That joke? You murdered him tonight, but that wasn't satisfying for you. You kidnapped the majority of the Underground division, but there was no joy in it. You kidnapped, attacked, and damn near destroyed Razor Blade, and why? Because I show empathy for him? Because I think he's attractive? But that's all. There was no happiness when you injured him. The only form of joy...and sincerity...and purpose you found for being back here in PCW...was when you were facing me.
David takes a few moments to breathe in and out, letting his words sink in.
David Hunter: So fuck it.
David sets the mic down on the mats. He stands up, flinging the skirt of the apron up. He reaches under the ring, pulling out his barbed wire baseball bat. This earns him a mixed reaction from the crowd. He resumes his spot next to Sicko, the bat edging closer to the big man's face almost as a shield from his own clawing hands. Kyle can't help but shed a smirk given the situation. David reclaims the mic.
David Hunter: You want one more match. I can give you...one more...ffffinal...match. But since we've already gone up and down in a standard Underground affair a couple times, than I think we need to raise the stakes.
David points towards the Underground Championship with the bat, lying in a heap on the floor.
David Hunter: I don't know if the PCW Management are watching...or listening...but we're done doing whatever Sicko wants...and done conceding to whatever Sicko desires. The next...major event...from PCW...is Return to Glory X.
This gets a positive reaction from the crowd.
David Hunter: Yeah, that's right. I'll let you sit for a couple of weeks. Let you stew in your wounds like a wolf...who just lost its pride. You can do whatever you want on the Icey's. As far as I'm concerned, you'll have hell to pay come Return to Glory. Because you will be putting...my...crown...on the line. Against me. One on one. Master of Death Match!
Despite not knowing what that is, the crowd can only cheer at its name.
David Hunter: You and I locked in a cell, surrounding ringside and chained so nobody can get in...and nobody can get out. If the ref is knocked out, than he will have to suffer until the match is over. Weapons of all kinds surround the ring and litter the cell walls and ceiling. The two of us will fight until there is only one winner. And by God...by...God...because he's the only one who can save you now...I hope you're ready for one more battle in this war...because Sicko...one of us will have to die...to end it.
David throws the mic away. He reaches his feet, lifting the bat up over his head. He brings it down, while at the last moment, Kyle moves his foot. The barbed wire bat slams into the chair, half of the barbed wire reaching across Sicko's face while the other half helps jam the chair into his throat.
It is then that security, EMT's, and various referees come out to step in between the assailants. With the crowd decisively booing these two men, a couple of beefy men in suits shove David and Kyle away. The two look down at Sicko as he writhes in silent agony, neither looking proud, neither looking happy, both scowling at the opponent they just bodied.
Ace Anderson: A Master of Death Match?
Jerry Andrews: David and Sicko can barely help kill each other in a normal Underground Match! What in the absolute hell would they do in a match...where it's designed for the participants to kill each other!?
David and Kyle are led to the back by the security team, a barbed wire bat over David's shoulder, and nary an expression on Kyle's, as the feed cuts to a commercial.
Sasha Greene: The following tag team match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first.
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.
Sasha Greene: Accompanied by Horacio Mortimer, from Salisbury, England. Weighing 365 lbs, the PCW North American champion...
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 spiralling 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.
Sasha Greene: And his tag team partner.
The lights shift to a sickly shade of yellow. A pale glow, as if the arena has been cast in the harvest moon’s reflection off the season’s first killing frost. With the sound of a sharp nib scratching across a ragged sheet of parchment, a sepia-toned cursive scrawls grimm across the PCW-Tron. The name flickers in the guttering candle light.
Thump. Clap. Thump. Clap. An incessant electric tremolo. The deep end of a piano. The ebb and flow of a dissonant wail builds to a wall of noise as Zeal and Ardor’s “You Ain’t Coming Back (Instrumental)" breaks forth upon the masses, heralding the arrival of Grimm.
Sasha Greene: From Hangtown, Kentucky, weighing 217 lbs, the PCW World Champion, GRIMM!
A lone silhouette steps out onto the entry way, and as it begins the long walk to the ring, candle wax drips onto the parchment. The lights fall into a pestilential throbbing, in and out of time with the discordance raging from the speakers. The Hangtown Horror remains deadset on the ring, steadfast in his approach. He climbs onto the apron and slides between the ropes. Hopping upon a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down. And waits.
Sasha Greene: And their opponents!
Without warning, the lights in the arena go out in a flash, and the sounds of rhythmic drums begin 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, as the overwhelming adulation continued. 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.
Sasha Greene: And his tag team partner...
The PCW Arena is plugged into darkness as the opening hook to "Amazing" by Kanye West blasts out over the PA. Suddenly a spotlight blasts down onto the stage, revealing Gerard Angelo down on one knee with his back to the crowd, hood pulled low over his face. He bursts suddenly to his feet, spinning around to face the PCW Faithful as the house lights come on, leading to the Faithful erupting into cheers as he pulls his hood back. Gerard smirks as he surveys the fans from behind his sunglasses, extending his arms as if absorbing the energy from the crowd.
Sasha Green: From Hollywood, California, weighing in at 221 LBS, he is "The Hollywood Hero", GERARD ANGELO!
Gerry walks down the ramp, cocky and confident as always, pointing at the fans wearing his merch, telling them they made a solid investment. He stops at the ring stairs and slaps the top step before climbing them, and walking to the center of the ring apron. Angelo surveys the PCW Arena once more before slipping through the middle and top rope into the ring. He runs to the opposite ring post and leaps onto the second turnbuckle. Gerry points to the crowd before unzipping his hoodie, pulling it off and tossing it to the Faithful. "The Hollywood Hero" hops down and removes his trademark sunglasses as he leans against the turnbuckles, awaiting his adversary.
Tag Team Match
Stormm & Gerard Angelo vs The Black Hand [Grimm (PCW World ©) & Dominator (PCW North American ©)]
Referee: Eric Russo
Stormm & Gerard Angelo vs The Black Hand [Grimm (PCW World ©) & Dominator (PCW North American ©)]
Referee: Eric Russo
DING!
DING!
DING!
Throwing caution to the wind, Gerard immediately sprints at Grimm, taking him through the ropes with a tackle, then pummeling him once outside. It gets the crowd fired up for what should be an explosive encounter. Grimm covers up to protect himself but Gerard pries him open like he had a crowbar in hand. Angered by the attempt to end his career, a fiery Hollywood Hero beats Grimm about the ring, stopping long enough to back body drop him into the fans!
Dominator and Stormm spar for round four. Stormm throws his heavy best at the towering Zenith, but Dominator is able to swat him back like a fly. Stormm, undeterred, returns just in time to catch an attempted big boot, enabling him to score a dragon leg screw whip! Dominator bellows as he knee is clutched. Gerard shuts him up with a sudden springboard moonsault! Grimm re-enters the picture and is dropped by Stormm who connects with a running lariat. Dominator is put over the top once he stands, but remains upright once he lands.
Order is restored the best it can be with Gerard working Grimm over in the corner. Stormm steps onto the apron, as does the angry giant opposite him. The stomps come heavy and hard on Grimm's chest as Gerard tests the merit of the five count. He backs off long enough to abide by the rules, but is otherwise dishing out the punishment with retribution on his mind. Grimm is swung into enemy territory. Gerry blasts him with a running uppercut. Stormm is tagged in and the two work a double suplex. Stormm floats over for a pin.
1.
2.
Grimm is having none of that and is cut off from any escape route. Stormm brings him for a series of knife edge chops. As Grimm spins away, he stuns Stormm with a mule kick. The Hangtown Horror makes a move for his corner. Stormm pulls him back by the seat of his pants, planting him with a pumphandle brainbuster! Stormm throws daggers at Dominator, but keeps his wits in place as Gerard is tagged back in.
Jerry Andrews: You couldn't ask for a better start if you are Gerard and Stormm.
Ace Anderson: They ambushed the champions and have yet to stay within the rules. The ref is totally biased.
Jerry Andrews: When did you become a conspiracy theorist?
Grimm is worked with a trio of arm drags. After the third he catches Angelo with a quick elbow to the jaw. Grimm attempts to feed him to Dominator, only Gerard puts a forearm flush in his face, then a quick spin move to get behind Grimm. Phinehas drops his weight to pull Gerry forward. This is when Dominator pastes him with a massive right hook. Gerard goes down like a ton of bricks. Then the tag happens.
Dominator lifts Gerard off his feet with one hand around his neck. The former World champion tries everything he can to get free, but Dominator is having none of it. A one arm chokeslam is heard through the entire arena. Dominator isn't done. He gives Gerard a second, more forceful chokeslam for good measure. Then his focus goes to Stormm. The fans rally behind him. Stormm requests their cheers to get louder and louder. Dominator has his attention pulled by Horacio who instructs him not to lose his focus. Or time.
Big boot meet Gerard, Gerard meet big boot. The force is so strong that Gerard is turned inside out. Dominator calmly walks over to Grimm. The tag is made and the top two champions trade places. Gerard is ran to a corner for a turnbuckle smash. He comes back with a series of strikes, but Grimm shuts that down with a digging (not raking) of the eyes. Gerard backs up in the corner, taking boots to the midsection on his way to slumping.
Jerry Andrews: Grimm is choking him out!
Ace Anderson: That'll stop Gerard from foolishly threatening Grimm. No good ever comes to those who do it. It's part of his legend.
As Gerard gasps for air, Grimm takes him out of the corner. Dominator is tagged in. Grimm lifts Gerard for a suplex. Dominator hits the ropes to fire back with a massive spear while Grimm falls backwards. The two rotate out, leaving Dominator to control the pace. Gerard is picked up for a fallaway slam. Then pressed in the air. He starts to show signs of life. Dominator's grip loosens! Gerard falls behind Dominator...sleeperhold!
GERRY! GERRY! GERRY!
Those chants do nothing to turn the tide. Dominator has too much strength to succumb. Gerard is ripped head over heels, but he counters into a DDT! Dominator is stood straight up. The Man without Peer fights with everything he has to crawl for his corner...STORMM IS IN!
The Force of Nature wastes little time in chopping down the redwood at his trunks. With Dominator cut down to size, Stormm hits him flush with a powerful dropkick. Ot doesn't put him down. A running clothesline pushes him back, but Dominator still has way too much in him. Stormm fires off every punch and every kick style he can think of to chip away at the armor. Horacio barks out orders but they aren't being implemented.
Finally Stormm stuns The Temporal King with a shining wizard. He moves in for a follow-up. Dominator throws Stormm off his feet and into the ropes. He returns to catch a spear for his troubles. Michaels doubles on the canvas, however, he gets himself out of the ring. Grimm has his hand tagged. He drops down to pick the flesh off the carcass of Stormm.
He begins with an introduction to the ring steps to soften up the torso. This is followed with a face first trip onto the ring apron. Stormm fires up after that as Grimm has his own face slammed onto the hardest part of the ring. Grimm fires right back with a stiff headbutt to put Stormm on spaghetti legs. He's then rolled back inside and pinned.
1.
2.
Stormm kicks out at two on the button. Gerard begins slapping the buckle. The fans clap along to rally Stormm back to life. Dominator is tagged in. Stormm finds himself stretched out with his midsection in particular being exposed. A HEAVY right buries Stormm. The shot is the kind that could break ribs. Dominator wastes no time in squeezing his advesary in a torture rack. Dominator pulls on Stormm for added punishment, but there's absolutely no give in him.
Ace Anderson: He's tapping! Dominator goes to 4-0 against him and remains undefeated over the last nine months!
Jerry Andrews: Will you stop?! Stormm did nothing of the sort. If you're that delusional, I'd suggest having your meds increased.
Knowing he can't procure a submission, Dominator changes course and instead takes Stormm down with a neckbreaker. Grimm gets the tag back into the match. He attempts to swing Stormm into a neckbreaker, only to be countered into a backslide!
1!
2!
Grimm gets free. He also fights off a belly to belly suplex. LAMENT CONFIGURATION. Gerard comes roaring past the ref as he takes some action against Grimm. ONE HIT WONDER. Dominator steps over the ropes like they were nothing. FORCE OF TIME is stopped cold with a second ONE HIT WONDER. But that gives Dominator further incentive to try again and he's successful! The problem now is that the three smaller men are down and Dominator is shaking out the cobwebs. But the faithful are getting their money's worth!
Gerard rolls himself out of the ring. Dominator adjusts his jaw on the apron. Stormm and Grimm slowly work their way back up. Grimm throws headbutts; Stormm throws strikes. The two collide in the center and knock one another for a loop. FLASH FLOOD HITS! Stormm starts to make a move for his corner. Dominator is tagged first. He speeds to where Gerard is standing in the corner, but eats a shoulder to his gut. Stormm tags Gerard!
A springboard sommersault over Dominator carries Gerard into a sprint to the ropes. Dominator is pulled into a backstabber! The Temporal Tyrant grabs his lumbar. While doing that, Angelo lands a beauty of a corkscrew splash on him from the top rope! He hooks a leg.
1!
2!
Dominator presses him off. Gerard rolls under the bottom rope. He hits a springboard missile dropkick that sends Dominator on the heels of his feet. Dom lunges for "The One" but comes up empty. He does catch Gerard on an attempted springboard moonsault, planting him with a running powerslam almost instantly. Gerard is pulled away from safety. Grimm is tagged in. He pulls Gerard up only to shoot him right over the top into the ring post.
Grimm seizes the moment at hand. With everything lining up perfectly, it's not long before he goes for THE HARVEST to end this and award The Black Hand a momentum carrying victory. Gerard balks at playing the victim! He sets Grimm up for HOLLYWOOD ENDING. Grimm rakes the eyes to prevent it. CHOP BLOCK to the left knee!
Jerry Andrews: Damnit! Grimm is trying to end Gerard's career!
Ace Anderson: Maybe he should've retired when he had the chance. Bad things happen to those who pester Grimm.
Stormm has the presence of mind to blind tag himself in. Gerard rolls out of the ring clinging to his knee in obvious pain. Stormm takes Grimm pillar to post with everything he has, making sure the World champion knows that others are coming for his crown. Grimm reverses a whip, but is maneuvered into a HANGCLOUD DDT. Stormm has him pinned.
1!
2!
3---DOMINATOR BREAKS THE COUNT
Grimm was in the process of beating the three, but it doesn't hurt to have an able bodied partner. Stormm is lifted off the mat only to be sent flying to a corner. A charging Dominator gets nothing but ring post. Stormm moves in on Grimm. He leaps up and hits THE HARVEST with sudden surprise! Stormm is pinned.
1!
2!
3!
The bell is called for.
Not because Grimm pinned Stormm...
But because GERARD ANGELO has introduced a steel chair and is going after Grimm with it, over and over and over with every ounce of anger he has. This match is over because of a disqualification. Gerard doesn't care. Grimm went at his knee and he saw red.
Sasha Greene: Here are your winners by disqualification, Grimm and Dominator!
The last chair shots are on Grimm's own knees. Unsatisfied, he picks Grimm up in HOLLYWOOD ENDING with the chair becoming a future crash pad. Dominator rescues his partner by throttling Gerard around the neck. Stormm recovers to stop Dominator with his own chair shots! The Zenith is driven from the ring. Amidst the chaos, Grimm managed to escape his fate, but Gerard let's him know payback is coming at Return to Glory.
Jerry Andrews: What a wild conclusion this has become!
Ace Anderson: They couldn't get the job done, so a chair got brought in. This match might as well have been a handicap.
Jerry Andrews: There's plenty of unfinished business between these four and things will surely explode further.
Stormm and Gerard remain in the ring as The Black Hand start to exit with their titles.
- CLICK -
