Collision Course 3

[Non Compos Mentis]

PCW PRESENTS: COLLISION COURSE 3
Sunday, January 20th 2013
Live on Pay Per View from the Pure Class Arena in Greenville, South Carolina

DARK MATCH
Tag Team Match
Rikkashot & Othorien Graham vs. Slam II & Cory "The Bear" Steel
Referee: Nolan Burke
Details: Before the cameras roll and Collision Course officially commences, the Faithful in attendance get a taste of PCW tag team action. The rag-tag team of Rikkashot and Orthorien Graham make separate entrances. Rikkashot enters to either cheers or apathy, while Graham enters to apathetic boos. The Devil’s Men, on the other hand, receive a mixed reaction as they enter together. Some throw jeers their way, but it also appears Cory Steel is starting to develop a following in PCW. He looks comfortable with his partner David Slam, and the two look entirely on the same page.

The same can’t be said for their opponents, however. Before the match even begins, Rikkashot and Graham are already arguing about strategy and who will start the match. In the end, the luchadore concedes, opting to stand on the apron and play to the crowd while Graham stands in the ring and waits. The Devil’s Men form a quick game-plan in their own corner, and the match begins with David Slam making his debut before PCW’s Faithful.

Graham and Slam lock up, jockey for position, and Orthorien Graham is the first to get the upper hand. He brings Slam down with a Japanese armdrag, following it up with a seated armbar. For the next few minutes of the contest, Rikkashot tries to get the crowd pumped while Graham tries to keep Slam down. He does a good job until Cory Steel turns the tide, making a blind tag off an irish whip and absolutely rocking Graham with a clothesline. Slam returns to their corner to recover, while Steel goes to work on Orthorien Graham.

And the work is hard and convincing. Without giving Graham a moment’s repose, Steel connects with a series of slams, including a Belly to Back Powerslam and a Running Side Slam, both for two counts. With Graham thoroughly hurt, Steel tags in his partner and they continue with a series of impressive tag-team action. They begin with a double vertical suplex, follow it with some quick-tag brawling in the corner, and end the sequence with a HUGE double back body drop. Graham can barely stand, but the Devil’s Men aren’t done. Slam makes the conscious decision to whip Graham into his own corner. Rikkashot makes a tentative tag on his nearly unconscious partner, entering the ring to face David Slam.

Slam waits, raising his fists as if to say ‘bring it,’ and Rikkashot obliges. Sort of. At least, he tries to bring it. He charges at Slam and attempts a leaping clothesline. Slam ducks it with ease and Rikkashot hits the mat. He’s quick to get up, shouts to the crowd, and tries a spinning wheel kick. This connects, Slam goes down, and Rikkashot gets so excited he forgets about his opponent. Instead of following up his move with some wrestling, he jumps up and down, pointing to the crowd and poking fun at Cory Steel. Big mistake. Cory Steel steps through the ropes, charges, and Rikkashot runs away, back into his own corner. Steel helps Slam up, the two share a word, Nolan Burke tells Steel to return to his corner, and the match continues.

Rikkashot wants to tag Orthorien Graham now, but Graham wants no more part of the match. Instead, he steps off the apron, nursing his injuries, leaving Rikkashot alone to face the Devil’s Men. Graham exits the arena via the curtain, the crowd booing all the while, and is never seen again. Slam is a little agitated now, and it shows. Rikkashot hits a chop but Slam doesn’t flinch. He yells at him to try again, and Rikkashot goes for a punch. Slam blocks it with ease, punching Rikkashot square in the face. Rikkashot stumbles backwards, causing Nolan Burke to warn Slam about using a closed fist. This gives Rikkashot a moment to recover. Not that it does him any good. Steel is now almost begging to get into the ring, so Slam obliges him with a tag.

Steel slowly walks to the middle of the ring, waiting for Rikkashot to make a move. In a last ditch effort, Rikkashot attempts the Whizzer. He pretends to throw a boomarang behind Cory Steel, hoping Steel will bite and look. But Steel doesn’t look. Instead, Rikkashot is stuck looking dumb in front of Cory Steel who sticks a Big Boot right in his face. And he wastes no time. He lifts Rikkashot to his feet, placing the luchadore’s head between his legs, then hoisting him up for a powerbomb. In a final moment of awareness, Rikkashot attempts the Rhyme No Reason, trying to counter the powerbomb with a hurricanrana. He throws his weight backward but Steel resists, stopping Rikkashot’s momentum with his masked head just above the canvas. In a show of strength he hauls Rikkashot back up, slamming him down with a powerbomb. But he doesn’t let go; instead he picks up the masked man once more, driving him into the mat with a second powerbomb, and then a third, as Rikkashot ‘Rides the Bear.’ Cory drags the near unconscious luchadore to the corner, tagging in David Slam, who mounts the top turnbuckle. Slam leaps, forcing both feet into Rikkashot’s chest as he connects with the Stoner Stomp. David Slam pins Rikkashot and The Devil’s Men are victorious.

As Nolan Burke raises their hands, EMTs come to the ring with a stretcher to carry away the now unconscious and potentially paralyzed Rikkashot while Cory Steel and David Slam celebrate their first victory as a PCW tag team.

Winners: Slam II & Cory Steel via Pinfall

Welcome To Collision Course 3
Details: LETS DO THIS!

The first words of ‘War Pigs’ by Black Sabbath hit and the pyros in the arena immediately begin to fire in a spectacular show that captivates the PCW Faithful. The extravaganza continues as the crowd cheers wildly for the start to the show. Images of all their favourite (and not-so favourite) PCW stars flash across the Tron with a glitzy video interlaced with shots of the rivalries the fans will see during the night. As the song continues and the pyrotechnics finally come to an awe inspiring halt, the cameras move to ringside and the commentators for the evening, Jerry Andrews and Al Laiman.

Jerry Andrews: Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to Collision Course 3! I am Jerry Andrews and I’m joined by PCW Legend Al Laiman. And Al, what an amazing night it’s going to be…

Al Laiman: You’re damn right there, Andrews. It’s a night I don’t think we’ll ever forget. We have every title in PCW up for grabs including the newly resurrected Genesis Championship!

Jerry Andrews: Indeed, Eira and Q will face off to decide who will be the first Genesis Champion in nearly six years! And we’ll also see the terrifying Pain of Glass match return to PCW as Nacho Grande and Justin Kaard look to settle their grudge tonight.

Al Laiman: It’s not a grudge, Jerry, it’s a WAR! They’re going to tear each other apart just like Grimm and Sean Rhodes are going to in the Main Event… the only difference is they don’t hate each other, it’s just the way they are!

Jerry Andrews: You’re damn right there, Al. And without any further ado, it’s time for the first match of the evening!

MATCH ONE
Genesis Championship Tournament Finals
Genesis Rules
Eira vs. Q
Referee: Steve Shaw
Details: Al Laiman:”You know, before this match gets underway, I’ve got to say – am I the only person who thinks these two are secretly siblings?”

Jerry Andrews:”I’ll admit, I see a slight resemblance, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

Al Laiman:”It’s that white hair, the general bravado of both competitors.”

The arena lighting dims, soon being covered in a soothing blue light, as the light plucking of strings leads into a woman’s vocals…

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away into a land of enchantment…”

Q slowly meanders through the curtains and takes his place on the stage, getting a soft reaction from the crowd. Despite his odd nature, it seems to be enjoying his antics. He doesn’t acknowledge them; he doesn’t even acknowledge his surroundings. With a soft sigh, he makes his way down the ramp. Making his way to the ring, he slowly removes the tattered duster coat to reveal his traditional wrestling garb – that of long black slacks, a loose white fitting, long-sleeved, white v-neck that dips low enough to reveal a black, long-sleeved undershirt. Climbing on to the apron, he wipes his feet before entering the ropes.

Al Laiman:”Second cousins, at least…”

Jerry Andrews:”Oh would you knock it off.”

Al Laiman:”Third?”

A fog begins to roll across the stage, soon seeping into the ringside area. Low to the ground, the trail leads back up to the top of the stage all the lights begin to softly pulsate, “Untouchable" by Xtortion Audio setting the beat and as the woman’s moan kicks in, Eira takes the stage. Cutting through the curtains like a knife, she stands proudly at the top of the stage. Her body is covered in her tradition entrance robes, and her lengthy hair pulled back in a ponytail. She pauses, looking down the ramp and gazing upon Q. After a moment, she begins her march to the ring, seemingly to the rhythm of her entrance music.

Jerry Andrews:”Definitely one of the rising stars of PCW, as well as Q. I think they both have a bright future her in Pure Class Wrestling.”

Al Laiman:”I couldn’t agree more. They both bring a level of mystery and intrigue into their matches, and posses vastly different styles. I’m excited to see how they play off against each other.”

Climbing on to the apron, she wipes off her boots before disrobing and entering the ring. She watches Q out of the corner of her eyes as she paces the ropes, Q doesn’t seem to be paying her much mind. Referee Steve Shaw calls for the bell, and this match is ready to start! Eira instantly on the attack, using the lightning fast speed to rush in and take Q to the ground with a leaping arm drag. Off of the move, she rolls, chaining it into a pin attempt, Steve Shaw quickly gets into position!

…

Q rolls through, bridging out of the move and creating a pin attempt of his own, Shaw quickly goes to count again!

…

Eira reverses it, but releases. Both rush to their feet, Eira being the noticeably faster of the two as she quickly jumps to the air and catches Q’s neck with her legs to take him over with a hurricanrana, she doesn’t go for a pin however. Standing up, she begins to circle Q, showing a level of respectful restraint towards the competitor.

Jerry Andrews:”Great sportsmanship on display by Eira. She’s not going for the kill, but at the same time she’s giving it her all.”

Al Laiman:”See, it makes sense. She doesn’t want to hurt her brother, their mom might be mad at her..”

Jerry Andrews:”Back to the action in the ring, both Q and Eira are on their feet…”

Circling, they lock up, and as Eira steps in and goes for a knee to the abdomen, Q catches it with his right hand. Dropping down, he uses he leg to take he down as he bridges over her body and runs into the ropes. On the rebound, Eira goes for a high dropkick but Q runs under it! Eira comes down, landing on her stomach, and quickly springs back up and turns around, Q is waiting for her. Leaping into the air, he plans his feet on her abdomen and his hands on her shoulder as he falls backwards and tosses her into the air with a monkey flip – but Eira lands on her feet! Hitting the ropes, on the rebound she goes for a clothesline but Q takes her over in shoulder throw – but Eira rolls through. Standing, she steps into Q and hits a monkey throw of her own!

Al Laiman:”Beautiful displays of athletic grace from both of these competitors, I’d say they’re relatively even at this point.”

Al Laiman:”I’d have to agree with you, they’re testing the waters – trying to see each other’s strengths and weakness. I think the obvious difference, while both are fast, Eira is definitely faster.”

Eira leads Q to his feet and hits a clinch style knee to the abdomen, while keeping Q’s head in place with her forearms. Leading him towards the corner, she starts a barrage of knees – strong, stiff, but not looking as though she’s trying to heavily injury her opponent, simply trying to wear him down. Eira steps back and hits the opposite ropes, coming off of them, she goes for a cartwheel before springing into the air and going for a dropkick on Q, but he moves, and Eira presses off the top turnbuckle, doing a back flip and landing her feet – but Q is waiting. As Eira turns, Q steps into her body, letting his right leg slip between hers as his body twists, hitting what looks to be a STO/Clothesline style take down, he instantly goes for the cover.

1….

Kick out!

Eira powers out of the pin attempt, rolling to the apron as Q stands up, a slight dance in his movements. Watching Eira, he approaches and takes a hold of her right hand by the wrist, pulling it through the ropes and tucking and rolling, attempt to perform a throw the ropes, but Eira yanks back and Q loses his grip. Eira leans back, holding tight on the ropes before springing herself into the ring – a springboard hurricanrana – Q rolls through! Standing, he joists Eira into the air for what would assume would be a powerbomb. Lifting her up, he releases, letting her drop behind him. Quickly, he spins around and pulls Eira down into a schoolboy.

1…

2….

Eira wriggles free, stumbling out of the pin and turning into another throw from Q, who goes for the quick pin attempt once again.

1…

Eira powers out, Q going for an instant dropkick but Eira moves! Eira steps in the rising Q and takes him over with a hip toss before locking in an armbar, but Q rolls out once again. Stepping into Eira’s frame, he stomps on her foot before bringing a knife style chop to the side of her neck. Eira stumbles, but looks confused by the attack.

Jerry Andrews:”I don’t think that worked like it was supposed to.”

Al Laiman:”Q’s got to bring a bit more to the table than Aikido. It’s not going to work on everybody..”

Eira steps in, taking a hold of Q’s arm and doing a quick wrench before pulling him and hitting a bridging Northern Lights Suplex for the pin attempt.

1…
Kick out!

Q stumbles to his feet, and as Eira goes to chase, he turns and puts Eira down with a quick drop toe hold. Rolling across her back, he applies a side headlock, leading Eira to her feet before stepping in with his right leg and spreading her arms as he performs a wide throw that drops her on her head – he instantly goes for the cover.

1….

2……

Kick out!

Jerry Andrews:”Then there’s times when his style can surprise you, as I’m sure it surprised Eira.”

Al Laiman:”I wonder if they go to the same stylist? But I agree, but that’s not going to save him all the time. He’s got to be a bit more forceful, and I could say the same for Eira. She seems like she’s in the match, but she’s not being as cutthroat as normal.”

Eira stumbles to her feet and Q is close behind, he waits for her to strike, and when she does, he takes her down again, and goes for the cover.

1…

Kick out!

Eira gets to her feet, and rushes in, using her speed to her advantage as she hits knee clip and Q is flipped over on to his back. She rolls backwards, going for the cover.

1…

2….

Q presses up, bending as he forces Eira to her feet. Lifting her up on to his shoulders, he begins to spin around !

Al Laiman:”An airplane spin!? Is he really doing an airplane spin!?”

Jerry Andrews:”Hey, if she’s dizzy, she can run – that neutralizes her speed advantage.”

Al Laiman:”Good tactic, but still, an airplane spin?”

After a few moments he releases Eira, and then suddenly steps into her figure. Using his right arm, he twist and extends Eira’s right arm, while doing with the same with her left arm, but tucks it behind her back – a submission of sorts. Stepping into Eira’s figure, he begins to waltz with her! The crowd cheers on, unsure of what to think!

Al Laiman:”I’m not seeing that, tell me that I’m not seeing this.”

Jerry Andrews:”Possibly the most unique submission attempt I have ever seen in all of my years in broadcast.”

Eira looks frustrated, but quickly powers out of the hold, stepping into Q and pushing backwards, he does nothing but offer a coy smile as Eira rushes in for the attack – and Q drops her with a drop toe hold, and this time takes a hold of her legs and begins to spin – releasing and tossing her with a giant swing. The crowd seems to laugh, but Q is quite serious about the move, following her and covering her for the pin!

….

Eira powers out!

Eira staggers to her feet, and takes a running palm strike from Q that sends her reeling, dazed from the blow. Q waits for her to stumble in his direction, and as she does, he goes for a throw – but Eira stops him. Pushing Q backwards, she leaps into the air and lands on his shoulders – and Q falls, with Eira’s weight coming crashing down on his chest! She bridges backwards for the pin, planting her feet on Q’s shoulders.

1….

2….

Kick out!

Eira rolls off, and as Q stands, she hits him with a low flying kick to the gut the doubles him over. Rolling across Q’s back, she catches his head with her arms mid roll and hits a rather inventive looking neckrbeaker, instantly cradling off the impact into a pin.

1…

2….

…..

Kick out from Q, but Eira quickly rolls Q on to his stomach. Placing both of her knees on Q’s back, she reaches forward and crosses his arms and pulls them back against her throat – she’s going for the Snowed In!

Al Laiman:”This could be the end, that’s a brutal submission hold. He’s got nowhere to go, and they’re in the dead center of the ring.”

Jerry Andrews:” We haven’t seen her bust out this maneuver often, the title is on the line tonight, both of these competitors are trying to get their hands on the gold.”

Al Laiman:”Of course, that’s the point!”

She pulls back, and Q begins to wriggle, looking pained, but not entirely distraught – and that’s when he begins to sway back and forth. Eira pulls back, but Q continues to sway, before rolling them both over, nor Eira is pinned to the mat!?

1….

2…..

Eira releases the hold, and slides out from beneath the hold and Q quickly fights to his feet. Q turns, and hit with hard standing dropkick from Eira, and she goes for the cover.

1….

2……

Kick out!

As Q stumbles to his feet, Eira looks to be measuring him up for a spear – but she hesitates. Q turns, and sees the standing Eira and simply watches her. Q looks startled, and quickly stares off in the distance with a look that could only be described as pure fear. Eira observes him oddly, before looking in the direction – Q begins to rat her, he leaps into the air, he goes for QFT, but Eira ducks under it, and pressing up, hitting in an inverted back body drop on Q! The crowd goes wild, and Eira looks to the top rope.

Jerry Andrews:”A unique distraction by Q, but it looks as though Eira had him dead to rights, we’ve seen this before, she’s going the Avalanche.”

Al Laiman:”I’ve got to say, regardless of who wins, enjoyable match up. Both these two present such a unique style, it’s a joy to watch.”

Jerry Andrews:”She’s on the top rope, readying herself.”

Eira sits upon the turnbuckle, watching as Q slowly rises – but she doesn’t jump, she doesn’t go for the avalanche, and Q rushes in and hits a high kick that staggers Eira! Hitting the ground, Q springs back and begins to climb the top rope. Standing on the middle rope, he tucks Eira down, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Jerry Andrews:”What is he doing?”

As he tries to heave her up, Eira locks her legs around the top turnbuckle. He tries to heave again, but nothing happens. Releasing, he looks down and is quickly pushed off the top rope! Q crashes and burns, landing back first on his back before stumbling to his feet. Eira leaps off, and lands on Q’s shoulders from behind. Leaning backwards, she arches her back and pull Q’s legs out from under him, pulling him inside out and performing a reverse hurricanrana into a pin attempt, Q wriggles, and Steve Shaw goes for the count!

1…
2….
3!

Jerry Andrews: Eira is the new Genesis Champion! She got it!

Winner: Eira via Pinfall

An Invitation to the Mad House
Details: Q is standing in the ring, looking a bit lost and waving meekly at the crowd. Just as he reaches the stairs to dismount the ring…

Jerry Andrews: What the hell is that?

Al Laiman: What the hell are THEY?!

“White Rabbit,” by Collide pops to life on the PA system. Two rows of white rabbits descend towards the ring in perfect rhythm to the music. They line the runway, spaced in absolute symmetry to the beat of the snare drum. As the intro leads into the meat of the music, a pillar of purple smoke grows from the top of the ramp. The song progresses and an odd-looking man dressed in dapper, yet uncoordinated clothing emerges from the smoke. His bright orange hair peaks in all directions from under his top hat. He smiles at Q a grin both unnerving and amusing as he places his cane in front of him with both hands.

Jerry Andrews: Al… you want to help me with this?

Al Laiman: I have no idea, Jerry… not a clue.

He strides down to the ring to a hushed crowd who wait in anticipation as to what the strange newcomer may do. He pauses at the foot of the ramp and doffs his hat. He raises his arm above his head and rolls the hat down his arm, across his back and into his other hand. With a fluid motion, he scales the hat towards the ring, but it never lands. Instead, it simply hovers in place about six and a half feet above the ring, spinning.

Suddenly, the same purple smoke begins to envelop the strange man once again. From out of the hat, a simple little card floats to the ground like a falling leaf. Without warning, the hat speeds off back to the man who threw it. More and more smoke billows out of nowhere as the rabbit begin to pile around the man in the mist. He bows graciously as the puff reaches the level of his now returned and redonned hat. A fresh breeze blows through the auditorium, dissipating the smokescreen, revealing that the man has vanished! An audible gasp can be heard throughout the arena as Q suspiciously picks up the card. All it has on it are the simple words “You’re Invited” written in a beautiful cursive, leaving a bewildered and perplexed Q in its midst.

Jerry Andrews: I thought it was impossible, but did Q just get out-weirded?

Al Laiman: My brain lost the power to process anything about a minute ago, Jerry. I have no God damn idea what I just watched!

MATCH TWO
North American Championship #1 Contender's Match
Marissa McCool vs. Alex Roman
Referee: AJ Bennett
Details: The fans are waiting impatiently for the next match to start, and most give an excited cheer when "Diamond" by Stick To Your Guns plays over the PA system. While most know little to nothing about Alex Roman, it'll be nice to see some action from an assumably eccentric PCW star. However, as the seconds tick by, Roman is nowhere to be seen. A minute passes, and finally the music cuts. A camera from the backstage area sends feed to the big screen, showing PCW security and medical personnel bustling about in a small corridor. One of the medics move out of the way, revealing Alex Roman out cold on the floor.

"Hey, where's Marissa? We need to question her about this, maybe she got to him first to even the odds?" Dave Brandt says to one of his fellow security, and both men hurry down the hallway with the camera in pursuit. As the men move through the corridors of the arena, they pass many of the backstage staff, agents, tech guys, several wrestlers including one unfamiliar face. The man is in very loud casual attire, most notably a flared jacket with a crucifix on the rear and one word above it, ‘Cross’. McCool's locker room isn't very far away from the scene, and Brandt knocks loudly. "Ms. McCool, it's time for your match, as in...NOW."

There's no response from inside the locker room, so Brandt slowly opens the door, only to find McCool out cold not far from the doorway. "Hey, we need help down here, McCool is out too!" He cries back down the hallway towards the medical team, then shoves the camera away from the doorway.

Introducing… The New Breed
Details: [The scene opens to the hallways in the back of the arena. The camera pans down the hall slowly looking side to side as they pass the labeled dressing rooms of PCW Superstars like Ace Anderson, Whitey Ford, monroe, and Grimm.]

[The halls are fairly quiet, as the Superstars get ready for their big night. PCW Titles could change hands tonight on several fronts, so those who hold the precious gold are gathering their thoughts, and those who want to take it by any means necessary are gearing up for the fight of their lives.]

[As the camera pans down the hall, we come to a new name tag denoting a new group of PCW Superstars. This one reads:

The New Breed

and as we get closer to the door, a bunch of voices can be heard.]

[Suddenly, the door opens, and people begin to spill into the hallway. A small blonde woman looks back over her shoulder, being the first onintothe hall, and shouts at the rest ofthem.

"Damn guys. Don't you think our first night in the new place we should try to keep it down some?" she yells over thieroud voices.

"Yeah, we piss enough people off just letting Sebastian climb into the ring and talk on a mic! Do we really need to aggravate anyone else?" a nearly bald middle aged man with a pocked marked face exclaims, sort of jokingly.

"Shut up. I don't care if those filthy sweat hogs out there like me, love, me or hate me... as long as the PCW PAYS ME... I could give less fucks than Eira does about that douche bag redneck she kicked the crap out of the other week." Sebastian S. Paul chimes in over them all.

"Can we just find the catering tables and get some food? I haven't eaten all day!" whines a nerdy looking kid in glasses, perhaps in his early twenties.

"Yes, Charles. We need to get some food and get back to the locker room so John, Sebastian, and I can go over some things for tonight. A new company means lots of new challenges ahead, and we need to scope out some of the talent around here." says Victor Bradshaw as he makes his way out of the dressing room last.

"Whatever. The 'Talent' around here can kiss my ass. From what I have seen around the PCW so far, I would lay down half of the New Breed Foundation betting that Charles here can take most of them by himself." Johnathan Cable remarks confidently as he makes his way down the hallway, trailed by the 'Lock Down' crew and Victor.

"Whoa there buddy... I am not a profe..." Charles starts to pipe in with his two cents before the blonde collars him and cuts him off abruptly.

"Charlie, John knows you aren't a professional wrestler. He is being a dick, as per usual." she says to him as sweetly as a cutting remark about a monster can be said.

"Yeah. Darina you tell him." states the balding man as he makes his way slowly around the halls in the back of the arena.

"Hey. How about fuck you both?" John asks sarcastically over his shoulder, his gravelly voice muffled through his mask.

"You wish you sorry..." Darina begins before the balding man grabs her as she makes a lunge towards John at the front of the pack.

"Owen... you may want to restrain your pet there. Her actions could prove dangerous to her health if she isn't careful." John mouths off at the balding man as he breaks away from the group to go look out across the arena.

[The rest of them make their way towards the catering rooms as Victor and Sebastian try to cool Darina down long enough to stop the war that's brewing from making any headway. Well... tonight, at least... as the scene fades to black.]

MATCH THREE
Genesis Championship #1 Contender's Match
Genesis Rules
Areas vs. Andy D
Referee: Manny Cruz
Details: “Hypest Hype” begins to play as Andy D steps out on to the stage, but he looks more forlorn than usual. He takes a moment to pose, flashing a smile to the fans, before beginning his trek down the ramp towards the ring.

Jerry Andrews:”Always a fan favorite, I think he’s a bit let down over the fact he didn’t make it to the finals.”

Al Laiman:”It’s a tough break, since losing the North American title, he has unsucessfuly made a run at the Tag Team titles, and the finals for the Genesis Title tournament. If he can beat Areas tonight, he’ll get a shot at the newly crowned champion, Eira.”

Suddenly, and very briefly, Andy’s entrance video cuts off the Tron and is replaced but an image…



As soon as it is acknowledged, the picture disappears, leaving everybody confused and unsure what exactly they saw.

Stepping into the ring, he hits the ropes, does a roll, and jumps up. As he begins to stretch, his moment is interrupted by “Living in America”.

Jerry Andrews:”Here comes the most hated man in all of PCW.”

Al Laiman:”If Whitey Ford and Areas were to ever tag team, I think the world would end. Just couldn’t handle it.”

After a few moments, Areas steps out – but tonight, he’s sporting something different, false teeth, yellow and large. Waiving the American flag high in the air, he points to Andy D and begins to scream out nonsense at him.

Areas:”AIN’T NO TEA HERE FOR YOU TONIGHT, BOY, I’MMA SHOW YOU THE COLORS THAT DON’T RUN!?“

The camera cuts away from Areas, and Andy D doesn’t look all too pleased with Areas’ portrayal of British dental hygiene. Oddly enough, Areas seems to be wearing a football jersey as well – a New England Patriots jersey. Walking around the ring, he stops for a moment to wave the flag before attaching it to the post.

Areas:”THIS IS REAL FOOTBALL. AIN’T NO FAIRIES PRANCIN’ AROUND IN SHORTS!?”

He removes the jersey and tosses it to the ground, not wanting to give it to the fans. Entering the ring, he spits out the false teeth in Andy D’s direction before trying to start a ‘murrica chant, and oddly enough, the crowd doesn’t go along with it.

Jerry Andrews:”You know you’re absolutely vile when you can’t even get ‘USA’ chant going…”

Al Laiman:”To be honest, I think most people would like to avoid acknowledging the fact that he represents the country…”

Andy D has had enough, hitting the ropes, he goes flying over the top rope and crashing into Areas, and the crowd goes nuts. Manny Cruz quickly rushes to the edges, checking on the competitors, and Andy D is quick to rise to his feet. He begins to pepper the rising Areas with lightning fast kicks, before stepping into him and hitting a dropkick that sends Areas tumbling to the ground. Andy D chases him, picking up the Patriots jersey and tossing it at the fallen Areas. Areas rises, stumbling to his feet, and quickly sliding beneath the bottom rope. As Andy D follows, Manny Cruz calls for the bell as both men have entered the ring, but Areas is quick to attack the entering Andy D, dropping a stomp on Andy’ s back before dragging him to his feet and putting him down with a hard right.

Jerry Andrews:”If Andy D wants to beat Areas, he needs to avoid the power game at all costs. Areas has such a tremendous size advantage, he can’t let himself get pounded like that.”

Al Laiman:”Nobody wants to let themselves get pounded, it just happens. This isn’t a porno flick. He’s not getting paid to take the money shot – it just happens.”

Andy D stumbles to his feet only to be forced into the corner by Areas who begins to swing wildly with both hands. One to the head, to the shoulder, to the chest, Areas doesn’t seem to care where he’s throwing the punches as long as they hit something. Stepping back, he lets Andy D stumble forward before stepping in and wrapping his arms around him. Heaving, he lifts Andy up, spins, and puts him down with a side belly-to-belly suplex. He goes for the cover.

1….

A kick out!

Jerry Andrews:”When you’ve got a guy like Areas throwing their entire body weight on you, it’s a surprise he kicked out at one.”

Al Laiman:”Andy D is the heart and soul of PCW. You’ve got to do more than that to keep him down, trust me.”

Andy D stumbles to his feet all the while Areas hurls insults at him. The crowd’s hatred of Areas is evident, but while the crowd maybe getting worked over, it doesn’t seem as though Areas’ verbal jabs are effecting Andy any. As Areas approaches, Andy D attacks. Leaping forward, he throws a low dropkick at Areas’ left knee, the blow takes him to the ground. As he Areas attempts to recover, he’s met with a low flying dropkick to the head that scatters his brains. Andy doesn’t go for a cover, knowing he hasn’t done nearly enough damage. Waiting, as Areas rises, he rushes at the superstar from behind. Jumping into the air, he runs across Areas’ back and leaps forward, landing on the middle rope before turning and jumping backwards and hitting a BEAUTIFUL springboard dropkick!

Jerry Andrews:”And THAT is why you don’t count Andy D out. His speed, his creativity, the man is genius inside of the ring.”

Al Laiman:”Areas didn’t see that coming, who would have?”

Jerry Andrews:”Cut him right down to size.”

Andy D quickly sprawls across Areas, hooking his leg for the pin as Manny Cruz gets into position for the count.

1….
2…….

Kick out!

Areas powers out at two, and the fans rally behind Andy D, who is already standing and waiting to continue his offense. As Areas stumbles to his feet, Andy D unleashes a torrent of kicks, all of which are aimed at Areas’ abdomen.

Jerry Andrews:”This isn’t Andy D’s first rodeo, he knows he needs to take away the cardio of Areas, and he needs to take it away quickly.”

Al Laiman:”I’m not sure if he can take it away as quickly as Areas will simply lose it. Have you seen him?”

Stepping back, Andy D waits, measuring up Areas, before stepping forward and going for a kick to the head – but Areas catches the blow. Pulling Andy D in, he lifts Andy up and over before spinning and putting him down with a hard spinebuster, he slowly goes for the cover, barely hooking Andy D’s leg as he smirks with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

1…..
2……

Kick out!

The crowd is on it’s feet, cheering, yelling, fighting as hard as they can to rally behind Andy D, and Areas doesn’t look too pleased with this. Approaching the ropes, he begins to shout out vulgarities to the crowd members at ringside – taking his eye off the ball, and giving Andy D time to recover. Getting to his feet, he watches as Areas engages the crowd and sees an opening. Running forward, he leaps into the air and plants a dropkick right across Areas’ back, sending him up, over, and outside of the ring.

Al Laiman:”You can’t give a guy like Andy D an opening like that – he’ll take it everytime.”

Jerry Andrews:”He’s been around the block in PCW, while he might not be the biggest competitors, he’s definitely one of the smartest if you ask me.”

Areas crashes and burns on the outside as Andy D takes to the top rope. He waits, measuring up Areas as the man stumbles to his feet, and as Areas turns to see Andy D on the top rope – he takes flight. Turning around quickly, Andy takes off, performing a Moonsault to the outside – Areas catches him!? Stumbling, Areas steps back and slams Andy D face first on to the ring barrier. As Andy D stumbles back, Areas tackles him, smashing him back first into the apron.

Jerry Andrews:”Andy D took a risk going to the top and giving Areas that much time to recover, and now he’s going to pay for it.”

Al Laiman:”I think he just underestimated the strength of Areas, it’s something he won’t do again.”

Jerry Andrews:”Agreed, he doesn’t tend to make a lot of mistakes like that – and I’m sure he’s learned from that one already..”

Arching his back in pan, Andy stumbles away as Areas releases him, but he doesn’t have long to rest. Areas reaches out, guiding Andy D back into the ring and beginning an onslaught on the ground. Holding Andy D by his hair, he begins to bounce right hands off of his forehead. Manny Cruz begins a count.

1…
2….

The blows keep coming down.

3…

Areas shows no signs of slowing down.

4…..

Area releases, stepping away from Andy D but grabbing him by the ankle as he drags him towards the ropes.

Jerry Andrews:”He’s not, is he?”

Al Laiman:”I think he is…”

Areas steps back, standing behind Andy before breaking into a spring. Jumping over Andy, he lands on the canvas before springing into the air. His feet hit the middle rope and he simply seems to fall backwards, barely making the rotation but going for a lionsault – but Andy D puts his knees up!?

Jerry Andrews:”Scouted that move perfectly, like I’ve said before, Andy D has a mind for this.”

Al Laiman:”That’s going to hurt in the morning..”

Areas rolls on the ground, holding his midsection as Andy D stumbles to his feet. Approaching the ropes, Andy jumps over the top rope and lands on the apron and begins to stomp his feet, obviously anxious for Areas to stand. Areas, who is facing the other way, crawls to his feet before staggering and turning around – springboard tornado DDT from Andy D, and the crowd absolutely erupts!? Cover!

1…
2…
…..

No! Kick out!

Andy sits up, absolutely stunned by the fact that Areas kicked out, and the crowd is right behind him on that. He waits, measuring Areas, and springs into the airs as Areas rises, going for a hurricanrana but eating a powerbomb from Areas instead. Areas stumbles away, smirking as he points to the air and begins to chant…

Areas”U…S…A…U…S…A!”

The crowd rains down jeers upon Areas, who doesn’t seem too entirely keen on their blatant disrespect of the country. Areas turns and looks down at Andy D and points at him.

Areas:”You’re all no better than this eurotrash. This limey headed, tea sippin’, crumpet eating – “

Suddenly the fans go nuts, and Areas begins to look around – 2Guys at the top of the stage, waiving the Union Jack proudly, Areas can’t believe. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through the little he hair his before rushing the ropes and shaking the top rope violently. The crowd goes wild as they taunt and jeer Areas, the same as he does the fans every night – Andy D is up!?

Jerry Andrews:”He’s not going to like what he sees when he turns around….”

Al Laiman:”Love it, he’s getting a taste of his own medicine!? I think Andy D’s ready to give him a bit more.”

Areas kicks the bottom rope, turns around, BAM!? Andy D rushes forward, leaps into the air, left foot planted on Area’s abdomen and the right knee across his face – The Dragon’s Bite!? Areas goes down, and Andy instantly for the cover.

1….
2….
3!

Jerry Andrews: Andy D does it! He’s the Number One Contender to the Genesis Title!

Al Laiman: You think getting a taste of his own medicine’s going to mellow Areas out at all?... Yeah, me neither.

Winner: Andy D via Pinfall

[Non Compos Mentis]

MATCH FOUR
Pain of Glass Match
Nacho Grande vs Justin Kaard
Referee: Eric Russo
Details: The lights flash in time with the intro to "Attack" by 30 Seconds To Mars as Justin Kaard takes the stage. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Justin loosens up before the match. With slow determination he walks to the ring, ignoring the jeers of the audience. His focus is entirely on the ring, surrounded by transparent sheets of death laid against the security barriers.

Jerry Andrews: Kaard has made it his mission to put Nacho Grande out of action. He already tried once, and he damn near got snapped in half.

Al Laiman: Nacho rose to the occasion and hit an Elbow Drop from half way up the Tron, but it took its toll on both men. Tonight we’re going to see even more damage done, and I’m not sure either man will be the same again.

Coming to the ring Kaard moves to the side and takes a running start before sliding across the apron on one knee. He grabs the ropes before hitting the turnbuckle and vaults over the ropes. Once in the ring, Kaard runs to the far turnbuckle and leaps to the second rope. He raises his arms, crossing them at the wrists before jumping from the turnbuckle and making his way eagerly to a corner.

NACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The crowd erupts into a chorus of ‘OH!’ chants as ‘Hangin Tough’ hits the PA system and announces the entrance of everyone’s favourite Lucha sensation.

Listen up everybody if you wanna take a chance
Just get on the floor and do the New Kids dance
Don't worry about nothin' cause it won't take long
We're gonna put you in a trance with a funky song!

CAUSE YOU GOTTA BE HANGIN' TOUGH
HANGIN' TOUGH, HANGIN' TOUGH!

Jerry Andrews: Listen to the PCW Faithful! Nacho hasn’t even stepped out onto the stage and they’re already at fever pitch.

Al Laiman: Everyone is behind Nacho going into this match, and he’ll need it. When you’ve got glass sticking out of every limb and most of your blood is covering the mat the only thing that keeps you going is the adrenaline these fans give you.

Hailing from behind the curtain, two masked superstars set foot in the PCW realm. Accompanied by his good compadres Beef Supreme and Quesa Dilla, both only 79 cents for their services of course, emerges the great Nacho Grande! With a lucha mask, a Spiderman t-shirt, a Superman cape, Batman boots, and a Wonderwoman skirt (gotta pay his respects for all the great ones), Nacho Grande waves along with the music hooking one arm over his head with the beat. The crowd can't help but follow the catchiness and the dance, and Nacho hits the ring with the crowd singing along.

Before he can get to his feet, however, Kaard jumps into action and dives on Nacho with a volley of clubbing blows to the back. Referee Eric Russo signals for the bell to start the match as Kaard continues with his onslaught. Nacho, smartly, rolls evasively from the ring and regains his feet on the outside but The Adrenaline King is in hot pursuit.

Jerry Andrews: Kaard is taking the fight to Nacho already.

Al Laiman: There are no rules, there is no sportsmanship, in a match like this. We know Nacho is resilient, but does he have the mean streak required to win a match this brutal?

Making his way around ringside, Nacho looks to get some distance between himself and his opponent but Kaard is on him soon enough, grabbing his head from behind and trying to force it into the security barrier. Extending his arms, Grande blocks the blow and reverses it, slamming Kaard’s forehead into the thin padding to the vocal delight of the fans. Kaard reels from the shot, stumbling backwards and narrowly avoiding a sheet of glass propped against the ring apron. As Nacho turns to go on the attack, he notices the sheet of glass and slides it into the ring, perhaps for future use.

Jerry Andrews: It looks like Nacho has something in mind for the glass already.

Al Laiman: And I bet nobody in the arena thought that would be the case.

Nacho turns his attention back to Kaard but the brief distraction allow him to fight back with an elbow to the face and a sudden slam head first into the apron. Rolling Nacho back into the ring, Kaard lifts the apron and begins to look under the ring for even deadlier assistance. A sick grin emerges on his face as he reaches underneath and grabs something… big.

Jerry Andrews: What the hell is that, Al?

Al Laiman: Not ‘that’, Jerry… ‘them’! It’s a bunch of light tubes!

Pulling out the collection of at least eight light tubes, Kaard slides them into the corner of the ring too and rolls inside, only to be cut off by Nacho who hits a boot to the head. Nacho quickly drags Kaard to his feet and whips him into the ropes, hitting a quick-fire Armdrag on the return. Both men jump up without hesitation but Kaard rushes straight into another Armdrag from the luchador. Again Kaard impetuously gets to his feet and charges, this time straight into a well timed Monkey Flip that sends him dangerously close to the stack of light tubes.

With Kaard down, Nacho’s normally light hearted glance turns with hurtful intentions to the pane of glass in the corner. Grabbing it, Nacho leans it against the corner and goes back to a recovering Kaard. He takes the hand of his opponent with his intent clear and attempts to whip him into a world of pain… but Kaard reverses and throws Nacho toward the glass!

Jerry Andrews: Oh God!

Al Laiman: No! Nacho put the brakes on!

Nacho stops short by mere centimetres, relieved to see the glass intact and not shattered over his head. Suddenly he remembers that Kaard is up and waiting and swivels around to see the Adrenaline King sprinting forward. Kaard leaps forward as if to attempt a Frankensteiner, but at the last second Nacho reacts and throws him overhead into the corner.

Jerry Andrews: Oh GOD!

Al Laiman: No, AGAIN! Kaard landed on the ropes!

With his agility saving his ass, quite literally, Kaard regains his composure and gets to the top turnbuckle. Nacho turns to see why he hasn’t heard a smash of glass but his hesitance is just the opportunity Kaard needs and he throws himself backwards with a spectacular shuddering Whisper in the Wind. As Nacho hits the mat hard, Kaard is almost immediately back on his feet and pulls his opponent toward the corner again. Using all his strength, Kaard lifts Nacho to his feet and hits a combo of elbow strikes to the head before laying him back on the glass. Retreating across the ring, Kaard’s breathing looks to get visibly more rapid and heavy as the adrenaline begins to pump.

Jerry Andrews: What is Kaard thinking here?

Al Laiman: Smash?

Once in the opposite corner, Kaard sets himself and rushes forward with nothing held back. Finally he launches himself forward with a Rolling Senton… but Nacho moves!

CRAAASH! The pane of glass shatters as Kaard goes through it, back first, and lands in a pool of shards that scratch at his back and arms. A sound of shock moves around the arena, shortly followed by a resounding chant to get Nacho moving again.

Jerry Andrews: Kaard just shot himself through that pane of glass! You can see the blood starting to poor from his back already!

Al Laiman: The very definition of CRASH and burn!

Nacho looks down at Kaard writhing in pain for a moment then snaps out of his daze and goes on the offensive. A series of boots to the head weaken Kaard further, allowing Nacho to drag him out into the middle of the ring. The attack continues with a combo of elbow drops across the chest before Nacho makes his way back to the outside of the ring. His eyes are immediately drawn to another sheet of glass which is slid into the ring right away, but he also begins to look under the ring too. A few seconds pass until Nacho pulls out two steel chairs and throws them into the ring, then stares longingly at another sheet of glass propped against the security barrier.

Jerry Andrews: Again it’s Nacho going for the weaponry, I’m not sure we’ve seen this kind of attitude from him before.

Al Laiman: He hates Justin Kaard, Jerry! Wouldn’t you have that mindset if you had a chance to take out your aggressions on someone you hate?

Jerry Andrews: Good point, Al.

Al Laiman: Why are you looking at me, Andrews? You getting watch the match and call some wrestling like you’re supposed to.

Nacho decides against the second sheet of glass and climbs back onto the apron, but as he does a recovered Kaard comes from nowhere with a Low Dropkick to the shoulder. Unable to stop himself, Nacho and thrust off the apron and thrown straight through the pane of glass, shattering it into oblivion and sending splinters dangerously into the crowd who reaction violently to the young man in the ring.

Jerry Andrews: I think Mr Malave might be expecting a couple of lawsuits after this match is over!

Al Laiman: And Nacho can expect a trip to the hospital if he wasn’t already with a gash like that on his arm.

The blood begins to leech out of Nacho’s arm as he tries to pull himself from the wreckage, but as he does Kaard is up to something in the ring. He grabs one of the steel chairs and sets it up close to a corner before setting up the second to face it. As he lays them out, his gaze never leaves the sheet of translucent agony on the mat and his cogs are certainly turning. Picking the glass off the mat, Kaard lays it carefully on top of the two chairs.

Jerry Andrews: Remember the objective of the match; you have to put your opponent through a sheet of glass with your finishing manoeuvre before you can win. Kaard HAS to be thinking about that Seattle Space Walk!

Turning his attention straight back to Nacho, Kaard goes to the ropes… only to find a Rope-Assisted Enziguri kick to the head as Grande climbs up using the ropes. Still reeling from the damage to his shoulder, Nacho tries to push through the pain and rushes along the apron to the corner. Once there he climbs, reaching the top quickly but still slower than normal and takes second to steady himself. That moment is all it takes though, as Justin Kaard regains his composure and runs toward the corner. Before Nacho can react, Kaard uses the pane of glass laid across the two chairs as a step and springs deftly off it into a phenomenally athletic Frankensteiner, throwing Nacho off the top and straight through the glass!

Al Laiman: Nacho just ate glass for a second time! He might be bringing the stuff into the game, but he isn’t taking advantage of it!

Both men are now bleeding from their backs but the adrenaline hit brings Kaard back to his feet first. Hitting a series of boots to the back of Nacho, he makes a break for one of the collapsed steel chairs and places it over the back of Nacho’s head. With a sick grin, Kaard takes a standing jump, twists and drives a Spiral Leg Drop down onto the chair, crushing his opponent’s skull in the process. As there is no danger of Nacho climbing to his feet anytime soon, PCW’s resident spot monkey goes back on the lookout for dangerous paraphernalia. Under the ring he searches but can’t find anything of interest so he moves around to the adjacent side of the squared circle and looks again, rekindling the demented grin once more. Reaching out he grabs a non-descript trashcan and places it down at ringside, then delves his hand inside…. Pulling out a mysterious black bag.

Jerry Andrews: Dare I ask what’s in there?

Al Laiman: Oh I think you’re going to find out whether you want to or not.

Placing his hand in the bag, Kaard searches for a moment and then pulls out a mostly transparent item, holding it up for the cameras and fans to see.

Jerry Andrews: That’s… a lightbulb?!

Al Laiman: And that bag looks mighty heavy to me, Andrews!

Replacing the bulb, Kaard places the bag on the apron and rolls into the ring. Lifting the bag off the mat he watches as Nacho tries to get back to his feet but only manages a knee. This is clearly too far for Kaard as he raises the bag of fragile glass objects into the air and slams it down on Nacho’s back again and again, sending the horrifying sound of cracking glass through the arena. Nacho writhes in pain on the mat as pieces of the bulbs puncture the cloth bag and the skin all over his body.

Jerry Andrews: This is torture dammit!

Al Laiman: This is a Pain of Glass match, Jerry! Man up!

Nacho’s salvation comes when me manages to roll to the outside and evade the cascade of blows, but the damage is done and he’s bleeding from his back, arm and chest now. He gathers his breath on the outside while Kaard takes a moment of his own to retreat to the other side of the ring. Climbing outside, Kaard finds the dormant trashcan he left and lifts up the bag once again, this time dropping the contents inside… although the chink of glass causes the camera to zoom in further on the innards of the trashcan.

Jerry Andrews: It’s full of glass, Al! That damn thing’s full of glass!

Kaard takes hold of the trashcan as if to move it closer to the ring, but out of nowhere gets hit with a sudden, jarring Enziguri Kick to the back of his head from a recovered Nacho. Stumbling backwards, Justin tries to get away from the danger of glass but can only find countless panes of it littering ringside. Before he can react, Nacho is on him with another combo of elbows to the head and tries to whip him into the security barrier at one of the rare points not covered in glass. Kaard reverses, sending Nacho toward the barrier but somehow he manages to jump at the last second, avoiding impact and balancing on the top of the barricade.

With the PCW Faithful reaching out to one of their favourite superstars and cheering wildly for his escape, Kaard rushes to attack again only for Nacho to throw himself with reckless abandon onto his shoulders and execute a perfect Hurricanrana, sending Kaard head first through another pane of glass.

Jerry Andrews: Kaard never saw it coming!

Al Laiman: And now he might not see ANYTHING coming! Look at the blood coming from his forehead!

The crowd erupts again in a massive chorus of cheers, trying to push on their ever-present Lucha-hero. Nacho climbs back to his feet, clearly with his energy starting to sap, and hauls a bloody Kaard to his feet before rolling him into the ring. Stunned and struggling to see with his eyes covered in claret, The Adrenaline King tries to get to his feet while Nacho sets himself on the apron. Taking hold of the ropes, Kaard pulls himself up and staggers into the middle of the ring just as Nacho jumps up and springboards towards him with a huge Crossbody attempt. At the very last moment, Kaard seems to use ESP, spidey sense or just pure dumb luck and dives out of Nacho’s path.

Nacho crashes and burns in the middle of the mat as Kaard watches on, wiping blood from his eyes and getting a clearer picture of the ring… and something lurking at ringside. Jumping suddenly into action Kaard grabs Nacho by the back of his tights and drags him across the mat at full speed, sliding him face first through all manner of glassy debris before throwing him torpedo-like underneath the bottom rope. The velocity of the throw sends Nacho flying uncontrollably head first into the glass-filled Trashcan!

Jerry Andrews: My God! Face first into the glass!

Al Laiman: Mask first, Andrews! He’s got protection!

Jerry Andrews: How about I put a mask on you and try to jab you in the face with a broken bottle?

Al Laiman: …. Try it.

Stuck in the trashcan, Nacho has seemingly been shocked into stillness or is simply unable to move. A hushed concern moves over the crowd as they worry for their favourite, but through the blood rushing down his face Justin Kaard shines a toothy grin. He climbs out onto the apron and takes aim, eyes squarely on the metallic can and the Nacho occupying it. Extending his arm as if it’s a gun, Kaard ‘fires’ and takes off, running at full pelt and throwing himself off the apron with a blood curdling Running Dropkick straight into the side of the trashcan. The can crumples with a crunch and tumbles sideways, spewing out a shower of bloodied glass and most of Nacho Grande.

Jerry Andrews: Dear God! Look at his mask! I told you Laiman, that mask didn’t protect a thing!

The camera zooms in to see the now red stained mask of Nacho with several small shards embedded in the material and beneath. Even Kaard looks shocked at the damage inflicted but quickly refocuses himself and rolls Nacho back into the ring to continue the abuse. The red liquid drains out of Nacho as he tries to pull himself up using the ropes, while Kaard steadies himself behind his opponent, picking up a chair with ominous intentions. As Nacho finally turns around, Kaard throws the chair at him, forcing him to catch it out of instinct, then hits the ropes and springs back with a devastating Springboard Roundhouse Kick, sending the chair straight into the face of the Luchadore and knocking him to the mat in a pile.

Al Laiman: Nacho’s a sitting duck, Kaard has to be able to set up the Seattle Space Walk now!

Kaard takes heed of Mr Laiman’s words and sets up the two chairs in the ring again, knowing that he needs to put Nacho through glass to be able to pin. Moving to the outside of the ring, he picks up another two sheets of glass, sliding them back into the ring one by one as if to make absolutely sure he’s got enough ammunition. Back inside, Kaard places one of the panes on the chairs as he did earlier in the match and grabs Nacho by the mask, laying him tentatively on the surface. The tension in the crowd rises and rises as The Adrenaline King makes his way slowly up the turnbuckles, taking care to steady himself after losing so much blood already. As he reaches the top he looks down sees…. Nothing!

Escaping to the opposite corner, Nacho is hunched over as if protecting himself from something but then emerges, standing tall with two objects in his hands. The weapons are two fluorescent light tubes, held aloft for the helpless teetering Kaard to see. With a burst of adrenaline, Nacho charges across the ring and slams the first of the tubes down over Kaard’s head, sending a plume of white dust into the air, followed by the other with an ear-splitting crack of glass on skin and bone. Back and forth Nacho alternates, wearing down each tube until there is nothing left to beat over Justin Kaard’s head and the blood is flowing freely once again.

Once the dust settles, Kaard remains perched, uneasily, on the top and Nacho’s second wind continues as he rushes back to the turnbuckle, uses the glass as a step and jumps to the top with Kaard. Before the youngster can brace himself, Nacho grabs him by the arm and uses all his strength to throw him off the top with a humongous Top Rope Armdrag that send him crashing through the glass once again!

Nacho’s arm lies draped across the chest of a near unconscious Kaard but the pin does not count as no finished have been hit so far. Realising this through whatever red mist is clouding his mind, Nacho slowly, carefully, climbs back to his feet and looks back at the stack of light tubes in the corner. As they stand to attention against the turnbuckles, Nacho takes Kaard by the head… but Kaard desperately reaches out and grabs something from off the mat. As Nacho grabs his hand to attempt to whip him into the tubes, Kaard lashes out with the object and jabs his opponent in the face. Digging the weapon in, it almost looks like Kaard is trying to cut through the mask of Nacho with…

Jerry Andrews: That’s the remnant of one of those light tubes! Look how sharp those edges are after they got smashed over Kaard’s head!

Kaard continues to drive the piece of glass into Nacho’s head as he struggles in agony to escape but cannot. A scream of pain echoes through the arena and is met with a resounding chorus of claps and cheers, trying to get Nacho back on his feet. Even as more and more blood pours through the mask, the will of Nacho drives through and he pushes him way up through the torture and shoves Kaard away with as much force as he can muster. Stunned by the amount of resilience still left in his opponent, Kaard takes a moment to respond and comes rushing back with the jagged weapon… but Nacho jumps, wraps his legs around the neck of Kaard and throws him straight into the corner, forehead first into the pile of light tubes!

Jerry Andrews: Desperation move from Nacho, but that might be what it takes to give him a window of opportunity here!

The PCW Faithful are shouting wildly for Nacho to get to his feet, but all the crimson masked luchador can manage is a resting position on his knees as he surveys the carnage around him, knowing more still has to come if he’s going to win. Dragging his limp body to its feet, Nacho sets up the same layout as he has done before. The two chairs, now badly crumpled but stable, stand facing each other and the one remaining sheet of glass is placed atop them. Pulling Kaard by his hair, Nacho forces him across the ring and slides his body onto the glass pane before climbing out onto the apron.

Al Laiman: If he hits the 2AM Drive Thru here I don’t think Justin will have the energy to get his shoulder up!

Very slowly, Nacho climbs to the top but as he does Kaard begins to stir from his stupor. Both men now begin to move very tiredly and focused on their own individual aims. Nacho is focussed purely on the top turnbuckle while Kaard aims simply to escape the glass he is laid on. Finally Nacho reaches the top and looks down, but the glass is empty apart from a trail of blood that leads straight to Kaard who is back on his feet and staring straight at his rival.

Jerry Andrews: We saw this earlier! Nacho’s stuck up there with nowhere to go!

Kaard runs forward, his pace somewhat dulled by the lack of blood in his veins but still faster than most men on the roster, and jumps to use the glass step as a springboard.

Jerry Andrews: Franken…What?!

As Kaard takes off to hit a Frankensteiner, Nacho suddenly leaps high into the air and plummets straight into Kaard’s body in mid-air, driving both himself and his opponent through the glass with a powerful, spectacular Flying Elbow Drop!

Jerry Andrews: 2AM DRIVE THRU! That has to be it! Pin him, Nacho!

The bloody mess of Nacho Grande takes a few seconds to understand what he just did and he jumps across the mat with a burst of energy, hooking Kaard’s leg for the pin.

ONE….
TWO….
THREE!
NO!

Al Laiman: I don’t know how but Kaard got his shoulder off the mat!

Jerry Andrews: He must be acting out of pure reflex right now, I don’t even think he knows he kicked out!

A frustrated Nacho pounds the mat and asks Referee Russo how it was not a three count. Russo can only look on at the carnage, surely wanting to stop the violence as soon as possible but unable to. With hands slick with blood, Nacho begins to clap and spur the fans on. His eyes are now on victory and he rolls to the outside and the trash that had previously imprisoned him. While much of its contents has been spilled onto the floor, some remains inside and Nacho places it on the apron before climbing back into the ring and lifting it inside with him.

Jerry Andrews: After what happened to Nacho inside that thing, I would NOT want to be Justin Kaard right now!

Even with a covering of glass already encasing the ring, Nacho lifts the trashcan into the air and empties the remaining contents into the middle of the mat. The hundred, even thousands, of jagged slices sit there waiting to hurt someone and Nacho intended to let them. He grabs Kaard by the head and lifts him uneasily onto his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. With a wavering and very unsteady stance, Nacho begins to spin around and around, his speed increasing with each revolution. Held in place purely by centrifugal force, Nacho spins and spins until he can bear to spin no longer and drops Kaard back to his feet.

Al Laiman: Not like this… not the Eat Late Even Great!

Both Nacho and Kaard stumble around like intoxicated hobos with enough whiskey in their systems to fell a horse. Even through his daze, Kaard stares down at the pile of glass shards behind him and tries desperately not to fall over. Finally Nacho steadies himself and thrusts out his hand for the infamous Fingerpoke of Doom but Kaard reacts out of instinct again, grabbing the hand and using what is left of his agility to transition into a Crucifix, attempting to lock in the Neck Crank.

Nacho fights back, stopping Kaard from locking his hands in place and rolling backwards into a traditional Crucifix. As Kaard cannot pin from this position, he allows Nacho to roll through and jumps to his feet too but is caught with a Monkey Flip from the luchador that throws him high into the air toward the glass. Using amazing agility yet again, Kaard flips through the move and somehow lands on his feet safely. Looking back at Nacho who has no yet get to his feet properly, Kaard takes his chance and jumps up, driving his leg down on the back of Nacho’s head and slamming it down into the glass with a horrifying Fameasser!

Jerry Andrews: Oh My GOD! Nacho just got driven face first into the glass by the entire body weight of Kaard!

Nacho flails on the mat in pain yet again as Kaard rolls evasively from the ring, clearly still reeling from his own injuries. The crowd is hushed with the violence being inflicted and watches as Nacho follows Kaard in rolling to the outside, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Both men struggle to stay on their feet as they try to get their breath back, but the real objective of the match is not far from their minds. Finally Kaard sets off in pursuit of Nacho and catches him, hammering an elbow shot into his head.

Nacho stumbles backwards toward the ramp but Kaard doesn’t relent, hitting another two elbows before Nacho can reply with a desperate flailing right to the jaw. Both men start to wildly swing as they move step by step up the ramp.

Jerry Andrews: I don’t know where they’re going but I’m not sure there’s much glass up there at least!

Al Laiman: You wimp! It’s a Pain of GLASS match!

With each strike getting weaker and weaker, Nacho somehow gains the advantage and forces Kaard onto the stage with a huge Enziguri to the back of the head. There’s a clang as Kaard drops to the metal floor and shuffles backwards to try and evade Nacho a few seconds more but the reddened luchadore keeps on coming. As Nacho tries to grab Kaard, however, the youngster hits out with a boot to the gut and gets back to his feet. Nacho tries to recover but Kaard is the more alert and rushes forward, jumping high into the air for a High Leg Lariat… but Nacho ducks and moves behind his bewildered opponent who turns straight into another gut kick.

With no hesitation, Nacho locks up Kaard and drives him down onto the stage with a sickening Play of the Day! The referee finally makes his way up the ramp to join the two men as Nacho labours to hook the leg and pins.

ONE!
TWO!
THR..NO!

Kaard again manages to get his shoulder off the stage somehow and Nacho’s expression can be read as disbelief and wonder about how to put his opponent away. As he wonders this, his eyes catch sight of something off the stage and he immediately sets off in hot pursuit. The cameras clearly aren’t prepared for this as they lose sight of Nacho until he emerges again with a table under one arm and no less than three sheets of glass under the other. With Kaard still down, Nacho sets up the table and places all three sheets on glass on top of it without revealing his intentions until…

Jerry Andrews: What the hell is he thinki…. Oh god he’s looking up at that Tron!

Al Laiman: He damn near broke both himself and Kaard in half last time! He can’t be thinking of doing that again, can he?!

Nacho’s eyes drift up the massive construction and his eyes light up. He turns to attend to the table once again but as he does, Justin Kaard leaps onto the table and throws himself off with a powerful Flying Front Dropkick that thrusts Nacho backwards with tremendous force, sending him crashing through part of the fiberglass set!

Jerry Andrews: What the hell just happened!

Al Laiman: Kaard just dropkicked Nacho Grande through the set! He’s gotta be out cold after that!

Kaard stares at the jagged hole left in the Collision Course set and the blackened screen where the illuminated display should be. There isn’t a person in the crowd who’s jaw hasn’t dropped but Kaard’s jaw is very much close and grinning again. Now it’s his turn to look up with ominous thoughts and he makes a move quickly to grab Nacho from the pile of broken pieces. The lifeless body of Nacho is placed on the table and Kaard turns to the scaffold, encased Tron.

Al Laiman: Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it Nacho?

Tentatively Kaard begins to climb, inch by inch at first but as the crowd begins to boo more and more at his back he feeds on the energy and gets faster. He reaches the bottom of the Tron and looks back, surely knowing he could hit the Seattle Space Walk and win from that high, but he keeps going. Further and further he climbs until he reaches half way up where Nacho had been Deadly Intentions when he delivered the 2AM Drive Thru… but STILL he keeps going.

Jerry Andrews: He can’t possibly be thinking about going the whole way? That’s… actually I don’t know how high that is!

The Adrenaline King gets higher and higher until, finally, he reaches the very top of the Tron. Cautiously, knowing that any slip could cost him a lot more than a victory, he stands and looks down at the still motionless Nacho. He takes a couple of deep breathes, looks out into the crowd and…

Jerry Andrews: OH MY….

Al Laiman: HOLY CRAP!

Kaard takes a true leap of faith and throws himself off the top of the Tron, falling through the air and twisting with spectacular speed. He hangs there for what seems an eternity and plummets with a nauseating, devastating, awe-inspiring multiple rotation Seattle Space Walk that connects… breaking the table, all three panes of glass and both Justin Kaard and Nacho Grande’s bodies clean in half with a shuddering impact!

It’s hard to tell who is hurt most by the impact as both men as now out cold and Referee Russo, though shocked and visibly perturbed at what he’s just seen, immediately knows that neither man is going to be getting up from it. He holds up his arms to the back stage area, to the cameras that will no doubt be showing in the back and down to ringside… to anyone that can see, and crosses them in an X, the universal sign that he needs help and a lot of it. Within seconds, the EMTs are out on the stage attending to both bloodied, battered competitors.

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know what we just witnessed… Justin Kaard just put his and Nacho Grande’s lives on the line with that act of lunacy, we can only hope that both men are alright.

Al Laiman: He did what he thought he had to do to beat Nacho, Jerry!

Jerry Andrews: He could have KILLED himself and Nacho, Al! Justin Kaard went too far and I don’t think either of these men will ever be the same after this!

The scene goes to the back as the EMT’s and medical personnel lift Kaard onto a stretcher and others are still stabilizing Nacho in the wreckage of wood and glass.

Winner: Draw via Referee Stoppage

A New Breed… of Rabbit?
Details: Many voices are heard mingling and intertwining as the camera fades in around the catering table. The collective known as the New Breed seem to be having a small party of their own, enjoying the snack foods compliments of the catering staff at the PCW Arena.

Charles: Now this is the way we should have been treated all along!

Owen: Yeah Sebastian... I like this place a lot better than the last one.

Darina: You should make a special effort to write that Malave guy a thank you card or something you jerk. he didn't have to take you here in the PCW.

SSP: Actually, we owe Victor the thanks, and John really. With the years they both have in the business, and the training weight John's dad's name carries... The Boss was happy to give us the contract we wanted. Vic even got us a nice health signing bonus.

Victor: It was nothing really. They knew the kind of caliber superstars they were signing to this fed when we walked in the door.

Charles blindly reaches over and lifts the dome off of one of the platters and lets out a blood-curdling scream, al la Ned Flanders.

SSP: WHAT THE *BLEEP* IS THAT?

SSP points down to the platter where what can only be described as a grayish tangled mass… or perhaps a brain? Seems to be enjoying the items on the platter. Victor barely finds a nearby trash receptacle to review his recent in-takings. Darina grabs a pair of tongs and pokes at it, but it barely flinches from its meal.

SSP: Is that thing… Eating grilled cheese sandwiches?

Darina hauls back with the tongs, nearly ready to strike, as a six foot tall white rabbit in a waistcoat scurries up to the table with the same man that interrupted Q. The cigar poking out of one side of the rabbit’s mouth leaves a trail like a locomotive. For some odd reason, the entire group suddenly feels the need to put down their food and drinks, shoving them aside as if they were poisoned.

Tarrant: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Don’t do that! You’ll hurt her feelings!

Darina: Hurt HER feelings? Are you serious? What is that thing?

Tarrant: ‘Scuse me, toots. Sarah here has been a very naughty girl.

Drool begins to puddle and fall from one corner of the odd man’s mouth.

: I like turtles. Gak! I can count to three. One… Two… Fish…

The man-sized rabbit picks up the protesting mass and carefully dusts off the toast crumbs and cheese remnants. He shakes an accusing finger at the blob.

Tarrant: BAD SARAH BELLUM! VERY BAD!

Tarrant doffs the hat on the strange man and flips open his skull like a jewelry box, revealing a rather large empty space. Tarrant carefully places the grey matter in the hole and plops the top of the skull into place with the sound of shattering glass. Suddenly, the odd man seems to come to some form of life before their eyes. He straightens himself out indignantly before coming to terms with his present company. He begins to have a conversation with what lay just behind his own eyes for a few seconds.

Nathan: Well… That’s the LAST time I allow my mind to wander. Why do I taste cheese?

Tarrant: Nathan?
Nathan spins toward Tarrant, who nods slightly at the collected onlookers. Nathan finally notices, turning a shade of red that has yet to even be realized by Crayola. An awkward silence befalls everyone as Nathan returns to his normal, horribly pallid shade of white and stands up straight. He clears his throat and taps his cane on the ground in front of him, smiling a grin that has purpose but no sanity encouraging it.

Nathan: I do apologize for my cranial shenanigans. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nathan Saniti.

Nathan bows with a flourish as if nothing has happened. He rights himself and postures like a gentleman.

Nathan: This wonderful furry friend of mine is Tarrant O’Hare. And who might we have the pleasure of addressing?

Nathan sticks out his hand, but the gathered peanut gallery is still too shocked to notice his gesture. He pulls his hand back ashamedly.

Nathan: Perhaps my mind’s trip was ill timed. Again, I apologize for bringing this soiree to a halt. I…

Nathan takes a couple of whiffs of the air and his unhinged smile grows wider and his pupils dilate. He roughly navigates through the small crowd to the table. An awestruck look graces him as he relishes what lies on the table where his brain was found.

Nathan: Are those grilled cheeses?

Victor: Yeah… Let’s go guys. We’ve got a THING to do.

SSP: Yeah. No kidding. What a fuc…

Nathan halts his chewing, glaring over his shoulder. He snaps his fingers and the word falls dead in Sebastian’s mouth. Instead, a black orb about the size of one of those giant jawbreakers forces itself out and onto the floor. Other than an “F” where the “8” should be, it resembles a billiard ball with feet. Tarrant bends down and picks it up, examining it closely. Nathan returns his attention to the food without so much as a backwards glance.

Tarrant: Good. The fuse didn’t light. You shouldn’t drop the “F-Bomb” around Nate. He doesn’t like it.

The New Breed follow Victor’s lead as they slowly creep away from the strange man, who is now stuffing his face furiously with sandwiches. Smacking and devouring, he barely notices the group slinking away. Nathan finishes off the platter, quickly chews and swallows and spins in the direction of the now extinct crowd. Tarrant lights up his stogie and takes a couple more puffs before ashing it on the now empty plate.

Nathan: They… They’ve gone?

Tarrant: Of course they have. You’re a freak.

Nathan: Well, that was rude of them.

Tarrant: Can I return to normal now?

Nathan smiles and nods lightly at his friend. Tarrant suddenly begins to shrink back down to the size of a normal rabbit and hops up into Nathan’s arms. Nathan pets his friend soothingly, stepping on the cigar absently.

Nathan: You must be exhausted from being in that form for so long. Come! Let’s away.

MATCH FIVE
North American Championship Match
Last Man Standing
MONROE (©) vs. "Puro Power!" Kaijin Shinryu
Referee: Eddie Lane
Details: We come back to a view of the stage, as the PCW ring crew is still trying to clean up from the ‘Pain of Glass’ match up before hand. The crowd looks a bit confused, and Mark Long doesn’t seem to know what’s going on either.

Jerry Andrews:”We’re receiving word that Kaijin Shinryu cannot be found at the moment…”

Al Laiman:”Maybe he decided to pack his bags and retire early, avoid getting embarrassingly outclassed in this match. “

Jerry Andrews:”Hold on, I’m receiving – “

The stage screen lights up, as Kaijin Shinryu and MONROE are seen exchanging blows in the general locker room. Right, after right, the two men are battling back and forth, neither seeming to get a clear advantage over another, and that’s when the PCAS gets involved. Stepping between the two men, they wrangle the men to opposites sides of the room as several agents and trainers flood the room to calm the two men down.

Al Laiman:”Why the hell are they pulling them apart? Aren’t they coming out here for a ‘Last Man Standing’ match? Let ‘em fight…”

Jerry Andrews:”It’s still a match, not a street fight.”

Al Laiman:”When the goal of a match is to knock your opponent out, I think we can classify it a bit more like a fight, Jer.”

Miguel Malone can be seen on Puro’s side, trying to calm the superstar down, but he doesn’t seem to care. Snarling and gnashing, he tries to break free and make his way across the room. On the opposite side, MONROE is pacing back and forth behind a wall of security. He has removed his mask, his vest, and seems ready to go. A path is made towards the door, and MONROE is quickly ushered out of the locker room and Kaijin Shinryu soon follows him. But as Puro exits, he’s taken to the ground with a lifting double leg takedown, MONROE instantly takes mount.

Jerry Andrews:”I think there might be a little bit more going on than the we know between these two men, the amount of aggression being showed is ridiculous.”

Al Laiman:”If I was MONROE, I’d be pissed too. This guy has basically taken a dump on the match, stating he’s leaving regardless after the match – what’s the point?”

MONROE is raining a bevy of right and lefts down on Puro Power, who isn’t even blocking – he’s throwing his own from the bottom! PCAS tries to pull them apart, but MONROE remains on top, and with a quick swipe of his right arm he brings a downward elbow across Shinryu’s face and busts his nose wide open. As all hell seems to be ready to break loose, Big Dave hits the scene.

Al Laiman:”Well, that fight is over.”

Jerry Andrew:”No doubt about that. David Brandt isn’t a man you want to piss off, and that’s something I think both of these men are going to respect.”

Al Laiman:”If they don’t, they’ll respect it a whole lot more when they wake up from the coma he’ll put them in.”

With a heave, he pulls MONROE off of Shinryu as though he was a ragdoll, tossing him to the side as the other members of the PCAS swarm around Puro Power. Big Dave escorts MONROE away from the scene as medical attendants and trainers begin to check on Shinryu, who is pouring buckets of blood from his nose.

Jerry Andrews:[b/]”Puro Power seems to be fine, but, I’ve got to tell you, that is one nasty cut.”

Al Laiman:”I think that was the point – MONROE was going for blood, and he got it. He’s sending a message to Shinryu.”

Jerry Andrews:”And what message would that be?”

Al Laiman:”Look at his face, that’s the message – you don’t screw with him, with his match, all of it. Shinryu’s managed to piss off a man, that we’re slowly learning, you probably shouldn’t piss off.”

Puro Power is on his feet, and pacing – he’s ready to go, but it’s obvious the medical attendants want to take a look at his nose some more. Big Dave steps through the curtains and MONROE soon follows him out on to the stage, now with the North American title hung proudly over his shoulder. Making his way down to the ring, he tosses the title on to the announcer’s table before climbing into the ring and waiting, and he doesn’t have to wait long. Kaijin Shinryu comes bursting through the curtains, sprints down the ramp and slides into the ring to collide with the North American Champion!

Al Laiman:”Here we go!”

Eddie Lane calls for the bell as the two men brawl, their exchange pressing back into the center of the ring before MONROE steps under a blow from Puro and lifts him up for a tossing double leg. Scrambling to the side of Shinryu, he quickly pulls him into a headlock and begins to alternate between dropping elbows across the bridge of Shinryu’s nose and rubbing his forearm against it.

Jerry Andrews:”Now this is a different side of MONROE that I don’t think we’ve seen before. We’ve seen him vicious, but this is just disturbing to watch.”

Al Laiman:”The man has his target, and he’s going for it. You’ve gotta respect that, you don’t see him resort to such tactics often.”

Eddie Lane tries to step in, but he’s pushed away. After a few moments, MONROE releases, as the blood has begun to pour from Puro’s nose again. Shinryu stumbles to his feet only to be with a stiff outside leg kick, the sound of the impact echoing through the arena.

Al Laiman:”That flesh on flesh sound, wow. That had to hurt, I think my leg is hurting just from hearing the impact.”

Jerry Andrews:”A lot of people tend to forget, while worrying about MONROE’s ground game, he’s a heavily decorated striker.”

Kaijin stumbles away and is met with another kick, MONROE follows up by stepping in and driving a knee into Shinryu’s chest that puts him down. Before Eddie Lane can administer the count, MONROE is on top of Puro Power, raining down blows. After a couple seconds, Puro rolls MONROE over and takes the top position, the crowd going wild with bloodthirst. Heavy lefts hand rain down upon a defiant MONROE, taking each blow as if it’s a badge of honor before leaning up and headbutting Shinryu on the chin. Shinryu stumbles off of MONROE, and MONROE attempts to charge him again – but he’s met with a low flowing kenka kick to the fact. Shinryu steps in, wraps his right around MONROE while using his left to hook MONROE’s right leg, and with a quick heave exits a beautiful t-bone suplex.

Al Laiman:”Shinryu’s no slouch in the wrestling department ever, you can’t count that guy out. He’ll fight until he’s dead.”

Jerry Andrews:”Lets hop that’s not the case, as for some reason I don’t think MONROE would mind killing him.”

Al Laiman:”I really don’t disagree with you on that, Jer. I think if we turned away, he might use some of those glass shards at ringside to stab the man. I’m legitimately worried about MONROE pulling a New Jack.”

Eddie Lane gets into Position, but MONROE is already climbing to his feet. Shinryu approaches, dropping several kicks to MONROE’s gut before leading him to his feet. Taking a hold of MONROE’s right arm, he pulls him and hits him with a hard chop across the chest. Still holding on to that arm, he pulls MONROE in and hits another chop across the chest. He goes for a third, but MONROE leans in and kicks him on the front of his right knee. Shinryu stumbles, before standing and being hit with a chop across the throat. He stumbles, and steps forward and hits MONROE across the throat with a chop. MONROE stumbles, and steps forward and throws his right leg into the air to hit a standing big boot across Shinryu’s jaw! Shinryu stumbles, but step forward and hits a hard lariat that puts MONROE down.

Jerry Andrews:”That’s what these two men are about, that strong style mentality. They’re not going to pull punches, and what they take, they’re going to give back tenfold.”

Al Laiman:”Or, they’re just trying to hurt each other. It could be just be that, it’s probably just that.”

MONROE stands and Shinryu hits the ropes and levels him with another lariat that seems to turn him inside out. Eddie Lane watches, before administering the count.

1…..

MONROE rolls on to his stomach, but does not rise to his feet.

2…..

He fights his way to his feet, and watches as Shinryu hits the ropes again – and that’s when he acts. Running forward, he leads off with his right leg, leaping into the air as he brings his leg up and the sole of his boot crashing into Puro Power’s face. His body goes down, seemingly instantly, back hitting the canvas as he holds his face while writhing violently on the ground. MONROE stops, not even bothering to turn around as Eddie Lane quickly begins the count.

1…..

There’s absolutely no movement from Shinryu, the crowd seems stunned by the brutality of the blow.

2…..

There’s still no movement from the eastern superstar, and MONROE seems content with gazing into the crowd and paying the fallen Shinryu very little mind.

3…..

He begins to stir, blood covering his chest as he pulls himself to his feet.

4…..

Shinryu is too his feet, and MONROE is on the attack. Quickly closing the distance between the two men, he pulls him in and begins to deliver knee after knee into his upper abdomen. Stepping back a bit, he throws in some elbows before stepping out of clinch range and delivering a spinning back heel kick to Shinryu’s gut.

Jerry Andrews:”He’s absolutely dissecting Puro Power with his striking, I’m surprised, with the amount of blood he’s losing, they’re not calling the match.”

Al Laiman:”C’mon now, it’s just a little blood. He’s still moving, he’s still breathing, the match needs to continue.”

MONROE hits the ropes, and catches the hunched over Puro Power with a low big boot across the side of his face – but Shinryu doesn’t fall, he merely stumbles – MONROE isn’t about to stop. Running back, he hits the ropes and comes across and hits ANOTHER big boot across the face – Shinryu won’t go down. MONROE looks to the ropes, and rushes to hit them one more time… and he nails it!? The boot cleanly hits Shinryu across the jaw, but instead of falling he stands up and puts his hand on MONROE’s throat! Bracing MONROE’s back with his left hand, he lifts him into the air and slams him down with a brutal powerbomb! The crowd gasps before going wild, as Eddie Lane quickly begins the count.

1…..

MONROE arches his back, but shows no signs of standing up.

2……

Laying flat on his back, chest heaving up and down rapidly, MONROE doesn’t seem to be making an effort at recovering, and Puro is leaning against the ropes, trying to shake off the cobwebs.

3…….

MONROE rolls on to his side, slowly trying to gather his thoughts after the hard impact. Puro seeing MONROE begin to rise, quickly approaches him and begins to stomp on his back, Eddie Lane ceases counting.

Jerry Andrews:”Smart tactics. Don’t want until he’s standing, if you see he’s going to get up, keep him down.”

Al Laiman:”I’ve gotta agree with you. If Shinryu wants to win this thing, he can’t let MONROE have any breaks. If you think he’s not going to stay down for the ten count, you might as well keep up the attack.”

Leading MONROE to his feet by the length of his hair, he quickly tucks him down and heaves him up into the air. Stepping forward, he drops MONROE down hard with a powerbomb, but he’s not done. Holding onto MONROE’s tights, he deadlifts him up, stumbling a bit and falling to a knee, but quickly pushing forward. Standing up, he lifts MONROE up and drops him down for another one!

{b]Al Laiman:”Do you know what that is? Do you know what we’re seeing?”

Jerry Andrews:”What is that?”

Al Laiman:”Power. Pure power. PURO Power…”

Jerry Andrews:”Just no, Al. Just no..”

Puro pauses, and musters the strength to lift MONROE up again – but MONROE is spry enough to let his right leg slip off Puro’s shoulder and wrap beneath the shoulder. He repositions himself, taking a hold of Puro’s right arm and bringing his left leg up and over and pressing it to the back of Puro’s neck as the two men fall to the canvas and MONROE locks in an armbar.

Jerry Andrews:”There is that technical ingenuity of MONROE. He found an opening, a counter, and he took it.”

Al Laiman:”And he looks as though he’s trying to take Puro’s arm home with him.”

MONROE wrenches back on the arm, taking a knee as he steps out of the hold and leads Puro to his feet. Twisting the arm, he brings his left leg around and drives a hard kick into Puro’s shoulder. Stepping back, he drops an elbow across Puro’s bicep before stepping into the man’s frame. Pressing his hips into Puro’s abdomen, he presses off with his legs and pops up to throw Puro up and over with a take down. Keeping control of the arm, he steps back before dropping both of his knees on Puro’s right shoulder. Eddie Lane attempts to check on him, but he’s pushed away.

Al Laiman:”Seriously, though. I think he’s trying to remove Puro’s arm, we might need to get PCAS out here for this match.”

Jerry Andrews:”That’s probably not a bad idea, with the way this is going.”

MONROE stands, with no expression on his face, and his eyes locked upon Puro’s right arm. Circling the fallen competitor, he begins to systematically stomp away on him; first Puro’s right hand; then his forehead; than his left shoulder; than his abdomen. Circling like a vulture, he stomps away before completing the circle, and leading Puro to his feet by the damaged right arm. Leading him to the ropes, he pulls down the top rope, and sticks Puro’s arm between the top and bottom rope snuggly. Stepping back, he begins to stomp away at Puro’s right shoulder wildly, all the while PCW official Eddie Lane can do nothing but watch.

Jerry Andrews:”Ruthless but effective.”

Al Laiman:”He’s got Puro right where he wants him, and I think he’s about ready to perform the coup de grace and yank of Puro’s arm and beat him with it.”

MONROE falls to his knees and begins to lay heavy right hands across Puro’s face, before leaning in an dropping elbows on the right shoulder. Finally, Eddie Lane steps in, pushing MONROE away simply to check on Puro. Puro rushes forward, pulling out of the ropes and charging right into MONROE. With his left arm, he hits a hard chop across MONROE’s chest, and follows It with another. Those two soon become four, those four become eight, and Puro is lighting up MONROE’s chest as the crowd goes wild for it.

Jerry Andrews:”That fighting spirit, he’s got it. He’s not going to go out with a fight.”

Al Laiman:”I think he’s lucky this isn’t a regular match, MONROE would have submitted him by now.”

Stepping back, he watches the dazed MONROE and looks to the crowd with a bittersweet smirk. This could be the last time – he motions for a cut throat.

Jerry Andrws:”Is he going for it? The Shinryu Bomb!?”

Al Laiman:”This could be the very last time these fans get to see it!”

Kicking MONROE in the gut, he tucks the doubled over MONROE between his legs. Leaning down, he winces as he wraps both arms around MONROE’s waist an quickly goes for a heave – but MONROE rolls out of the hold. Stumbling back, MONROE falls upon the ropes but doesn’t have any time to recuperate – Shinryu’s after him. Running, Shinryu swings out his left arm and hits a lariat, sending not only MONROE, but himself, over the top rope and crashing to the floor. Eddie Lane looks outside at both men, while administering the count.

1…..

Both men stir, but neither man seems ready to get to their feet.

2……

Kaijin is pulling himself up along the apron, but MONROE doesn’t appear to be moving, his body balled up on the padding.

3…..

Kaijin is up, gazing down at MONROE with a smile as he stumbles to the ring barrier and rests against some fans.

4….

MONROE has begun to crawl, making his way to the stairs, trying to aid himself in standing.

5….

Shinryu looks to step away the barrier, but he’s stopped. Turning around, he walks right into a kick from behind the barrier, catching him right on point. MONROE is standing, but isn’t positioned so that he can see what has happened. The audience isn’t sure what’s going on, but that’s when a nearby camera man catches Gabriel Cross stepping away from the barrier with a smirk on his face.

Jerry Andrew:”That’s the same guy we saw during the #1 contendership match, what the hell is he doing here!? “

Al Laiman:”Making an impact, that is what he’s doing here.”

Puro’s body has fallen across the barrier, and shows no signs of moving. MONROE, stumbles over and begins to rain down blows across Puro’s back. Grabbing him by the nape of the neck, he spins him around and toss him back first into the barrier. Rather than waiting for a count, he drags Puro to his feet and tosses him once again, but this time into the ring apron. MONROE approaches Shinryu, now slowly crawling, and leads him to the stairs.

Jerry Andrews:”I don’t like where he’s going with this…”

He drops a couple elbows across the back of Puro’s head for good measure before leading him up the stairs. As they stand on the base, MONROE looks to the crowd before leaning back and spitting a red mist into the air. Hooking Puro’s right arm, he quickly wrenched back and pushes upwards, heaving Puro into the air vertically and leaning back, using the turnbuckle for support.

Al Laiman:”Dear god…”

Seconds go by, and the crowd seems stunned by the feat. MONROE holds him, then quickly steps to the side and drops his own body off of the stairs, while letting Puro come crashing down upon them – hitting the E.L.E. on top of the stairs. Eddie Lane looks on, throwing up an ‘x’ as he doesn’t even begin to count. Slipping out of the ring, he begins to check on the fallen Puro Power, as MONROE quickly approaches the announcers table and scoops up his belt.

Jerry Andrews:”He doesn’t even care. He doesn’t care about Puro’s well-being, he doesn’t care about that match.”

Al Laiman:”I told you earlier, it’s about sending a message – and I think everyone in the back received it…”

MONROE walks around the ring and up the ramp, as medical staff and trainers rush by him to check on the downed Puro. He stops at the top of the stage, looking over his shoulder, with a soft smirk playing upon his lips as he watches them attend to Shinryu Kaijin, in what is possibly his last match in Pure Class Wrestling.

Winner: MONROE via KO

[Non Compos Mentis]

MATCH SIX
Tag Team Championship Match
Elimination Tables Match
Heaven & Hell (©) vs. Crazy Muscles vs. Sea Men
Referee: Marcos Cruz
Details: “You’re a Pirate” plays as Wasp and High Tide take to the stage, fired up and ready to go. They go from side to side, trying to fire up the crowd, before making their way down the ramp. They stop for a moment, to look at the tables that have been lined up down the ramp and to the sides of the ring. High Tide takes a moment to climb to the top of one and gaze around the arena, posing with a leg raised on to the nearby and a cheeky smile – he steps forward and breaks the table. Wasp shakes his head and High Tide just shrugs and smiles as the two rush down and slide into the ring.

Al Laiman:”The match hasn’t even started and High Tide has put himself through a table, why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be a long match?”

Jerry Andrews:”They’re having fun! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“SORRY FOR PARTY ROCKING!?”

El Musculo and Crazy boy are the next competitors out, stepping out through the curtains, the two dance their way around the stage before El Musculo leans down and poses with his biceps as Crazy Boy jumps over him and spreads his arms.

Jerry Andrews:”Energy is running high in this match, it has a lot to live up to, there have been some real show stealers tonight.”

Al Laiman:”I’m still surprised nobody got New Jack’ed, seriously.”

The lights in the arena dim, and a steady bass fills the arena. Soon, flames begin to engulf the center of the stage and Murdoc rises from beneath with a tag team title belt resting upon his right shoulder. He remains stoic as he rises from the depths, and as the lift stops he steps through the flames and begins a slow crawl towards the ring.

Jerry Andrews:”He’s a scary, scary man, Al.”

Al Laiman:”People want to talk about guys like Ace Anderson and Grimm being a monster, I think that far too often Murdoc is overlooked.”

As Murdoc reaches the midway point of the ramp, the lighting picks back up and “All I Need” begins to play. In stark contrast to Murdoc’s entrance, Pegasus bursts through the curtains with his tag team title belt held high in the air. He throws a hand up with his index finger extended before making his way down the ramp and walking behind Murdoc.

Al Laiman:”The odd couple of PCW, I’m not sure I want to be any of those men. A ring surrounded with tables with Murdoc and Pegasus in the match?”

Jerry Andrews:”A powerful team, and I’d be a afraid too. These two, despite their differences, have worked as a cohesive unit for the most part of this tag teams existence.”

As all men have reached the ring, Marcos Cruz calls for the bell – all the men meet in the middle and instantly it turns into an all out brawl. Crazy Boy exchanging rights with Wasp, High Tide throwing blows at back and forth with El Musculo, and the tag team champions standing back and watching the melee, after a moment they get involved. Murdoc steps into the melee and instantly levels both Crazy Boy and Wasp with dual clotheslines.

Al Laiman:”The power that he possesses is absolutely frightening, I swear to god I felt the ground shake.”

Jerry Andrews:” High Tide and El Musculo look like they’re ready to accept the challenge!”

Al Laiman:”They might as well be digging their own graves…”

They stop their brawling, gazing at Murdoc and motioning to him to bring it – that’s when Pegasus comes flying across the ring. Running past Murdoc, he smashes into High Tide, knocking him outside of the ring before being attacked by El Musculo. The two exchange blows before El Musculo takes the advantage and goes for a hurricanrana that puts Pegasus on the outside. As he turns around, he steps right into Murdoc who reels his right arm back and throws a wild haymaker that lands right on Musculo’s chest, putting him down on the ground.

Jerry Andrews:”He may have just broken Musculo’s sternum…”

Al Laiman:”At the least he triggered a mild heart attack.”

As Murdoc stands over his downed opponent, the attention of the whole arena suddenly turns to the stage and some suspicious movement. There, having been introduced earlier in the show, are three men with unknown intentions. The trio of Victor Bradshaw, John Cable and Sebastian St. Paul stand at the top of the ramp and simply stare down to the ring, observing the action.

Jerry Andrews: “Well these newcomers definitely seem… keen.”

Al Laiman: “They’re just out here to get a look at their competition, they are the newest additions to the Tag Team Division after all.”

Before Murdoc can drag El Musculo to his feet he’s attacked by Crazy Boy and Wasp. The two men come from behind, stomping away on the back of his legs while Pegasus gathers himself on the outside. Musculo stumbles to his feet and it becomes a free for all on Murdoc.

Jerry Andrews:”Possibly the smartest thing they could do.”

Al Laiman:”I don’t know, I think they have a better chance of hurting Pegasus than they do Murdoc – they’re just going to piss him off.”

Murdoc is forced into the corner, as all three men continue to punch away at him – he’s had enough. Stepping forward, Murdoc plants a firm right hand across Crazy Boy’s face that levels him. Wasp jumps up and tries to lay down strikes on Murdoc’s head but he’s met with a choke toss that sends him halfway across the ring – all that’s left his High Tide, who tries to make an exit and he runs right into a Pegasus, who levels him with a standing dropkick.

Jerry Andrews:”And the calvary has arrived! Pegasus with the assist.”

Al Laiman:”I’m not sure it’s much of an assist he was already running for his life.”

Pegasus begins to work on the fallen Crazy boy as Murdoc has cornered El Musculo, Wasp and High Tide have rolled out, formulating a plan and letting Crazy Muscles take the beating. Pegasus drags Crazy boy to his feet and throws him into the corner. Turning around, he calls out to Murdoc, who seems less than pleased, but goes along. They both take a hold of their opponents and whip them – but they both reverse! While Pegasus is tossed in the right direction, Murdoc simply plants his feet down and pulls El Musculo back into a clothesline. Pegasus hits the ropes and comes back with an enzugiri right off of Crazy Boy’s skull.

Jerry Andrews:”Valiant effort by Crazy Muscles, but was El Musculo thinking trying to whip Murdoc?”

Al Laiman:”Musculo weighs about as much as one of Murdoc’s legs, that just wasn’t a smart maneuver on his part.”

That’s when Sea Men attack. Wasp slips in and hits a chop block on Murdoc that puts him down, while High Tide comes flying in with a plancha that puts Pegasus on the mat. They stomp away on the champions all the while keeping on eye on Musculo and Crazy boy, who seem as though they’re out for the count. High Tide leads Pegasus to the corner and begins trying to joist him to the top, the two men going back and forth over it. Wasp is stomping away at the right leg of the staggered giant, and soon enough Musculo and Crazy Boy join in.

Jerry Andrews:”All they need to do is eliminate one of them and this becomes a contest with two teams instead of three – I think they’ve mad their pick.”

Al Laiman:”The only logical pick. Eliminate the champions first, and fight amongst yourselves second; they’re the biggest threat in the match.”

High Tide is eyeing a table on the outside as he tries to get Pegasus on the top rope – soon he has help, as Crazy Boy, Wasp, and Musculo come over and aid in the process. They step back, as Pegasus sits dazed on the top rope and that’s when High Tide acts. Jumping into the air, he goes for a leaping frankensteiner, and he catches it – but Pegasus is ready. He uses the moment and High Tide’s toss to send his body crashing against the other three competitors!

Al Laiman:”A human weapon, I wonder if High Tide knows he just took out his partner with the enemy!?”

Jerry Andrews:”I don’t think any of them really know what they’re doing at this point. They’re just trying to survive.”

Al Laiman:”Well, High Tide looks like he’s ready for some table action – as he’s on the outside trying to wrangle one.”

Pegasus and Murdoc are both on their feet as Musculo, Crazy Boy, and Wasp are still on the ground. High Tide slips a table beneath the bottom rope, but hesitates to climb in. Pegasus slips out of the ring and begins chase as Murdoc picks up the table and begins to set it up. High Tide charges around the ring and quickly slips beneath the ring apron.

Jerry Andrews:”Is he really hiding underneath the ring?”

Al Laiman:”Hey, there are no rules against it.”

Jerry Andrews:”C’mon now.”

Pegasus lifts the curtain and is quickly smacked in the face with the end of a table. Meanwhile, in the ring Murdoc has a table perched in the corner and the trio have risen. Rushing forward, they try to swarm Murdoc be he puts them all down with right hands. El Musculo pops back up and tossed in the direction of the table – but he catches himself on the ropes. Crazy Boy rushes in and hits a front chop block, but it doesn’t put Murdoc down and that’s when Wasp comes in – THE GREAT WHITE NORTH!?

Al Laiman:”Good god!? How did he even get his foot up that high!”

Jerry Andrews:”Quite a vertical leap by Wasp, that had to hurt.”

Al Laiman:”Murdoc is still standing!?”

Dazed, it takes a moment for Murdoc to gather himself but that’s when he rushes towards Wasp, who quickly runs for the ropes. Crazy Boy comes from behind with a chop block that puts him down, and the three on one assault begins again. On the outside, Pegasus is slowly recovering as High Tide sets up a table. Picking up, he pushes it towards the apron as he then approaches Pegasus.

Al Laiman:”Could we be seeing the end of this match?”

Jerry Andrews:”High Tide has something in mind!”

He leads Pegasus towards the table, and hooks his arm. Wrenching back, he goes for a suplex but Pegasus slips out. Landing on the table, Pegasus wobbles for a moment before regaining his balance. Crazy Boy breaks away from the beating on Murdoc, and quickly sees an opportunity. Rushing towards the ropes he goes for shoulder tackle on Pegasus, but Pegasus moves – Crazy Boy catches himself on the middle rope!?

Jerry Andrews:”Talk about being lucky, it was almost done for Crazy Muscles.”

Al Laiman:” They’re not out of the woods yet, with boy Crazy Boy and Pegasus on the Apron, either one of them could be going down.”

Crazy Boy and Pegasus battle on the apron as High Tide slips back into the ring and joins the attack on Murdoc. El Musculo, High Tide, and Wasp all stomp away on Murdoc, but soon he erupts. Bursting form a kneeling position, he puts El Musculo down with Headbutt before taking it to Sea Man. Heavy handed rights lead the way into leveling them both with clothesline. Approaching the fallen El Musculo, he joists him into the air with a single hand before tossing him up and over the ropes and crashing to the outside, narrowly avoiding a table.

Jerry Andrews:”Another close call for the team of Crazy Muscles, it seems like they’ve got an angel looking over their shoulders.”

Al Laiman:”Or, you know, the logical explanation: luck, that could work too.”

Crazy Boy and Pegasus are still battling it out on the apron. Pegasus hits Smith with a kick to the gut and quickly attempts to toss Tide throw the table, but Crazy Boy latches himself on to the ropes. Inching forward, he throws his head into Pegasus gut and tries to go for a powerbomb, but Pegasus as his right arm firmly around the middle rope.

Al Laiman:”Those two are going to war on that apron.”

Jerry Andrews:”That they are, but you’ve gotta wonder – who’s going to give first?”

Murdoc eyes El Musculo on the outside, before turning and receiving a double gut kick from Sea Men. They look back, seeing Pegasus and Crazy Boy fighting, and the crowd can feel it too – an idea just popped into their head.

Al Laiman:”They’re going to try to kill two birds with one stone!?”

A dazed Murdoc is pummeled away on before Tide and Wasp take a hold of his arms and heave with all their might. Murdoc doesn’t budge! They try again, nothing! Murdoc steps forward and heaves them both backwards… right into Pegasus and Crazy Boy!?

Jerry Andrews:”It’s over!? It’s over!?”

Al Laiman:”I don’t think Murdoc even noticed them on the apron, he was too busy trying to fight off Sea Men!”

Pegasus and Crazy Boy go crashing through the table as Marcos Cruz calls for the bell, awarding Sea Men the PCW Tag Team Titles! Both Tide and Martins take a moment to realise what has just happened and suddenly burst into piratey celebrations, including a hip flask of rum that Tide had been hiding someone about his person. Meanwhile, at the top of the ramp, the trio of Bradshaw, Cable and St. Paul exchange a comment or two and move back behind the curtain, revealing nothing about their thoughts on their new competition.

Winners: High Tide and Jule Martins via Table Finish

MATCH SEVEN
International Championship Match
Scramble Rules*
"THE Asshole" Whitey Ford (©) w/MJ Windsor vs. "The Bomber" Darren Hughes vs. Ace Anderson vs. Scythe w/Lucius Saint
Referee: Roberto Garcia
Details: Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, the next bout of the evening is the four-way Scramble match for the INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! On his way to the ring first ...

With this cue, The opening drumline to "Tactical Nuke" plays, prompting a chorus of boos and disdain ... as well as a bit of apathy from the audience. Impressive in his first few weeks here, Scythe is attempting to gain some of that much-needed forward momentum by not ONLY defeating a verifiable Hall of Famer in Ace Anderson, but silence the newcomers by taking possession of the PCW International Championship.

The curtain moves, and just as the song kicks in, Scythe and Lucius Saint show themselves. Scythe simply looks ahead with empty eyes, while Saint smirks and soaks in the crowd's disapproval. ‘Weighing in tonight at a solid 300 pounds, accompanied by Lucius Saint ... SCYYYYYYYYYYTHE!’ The two descend the ramp towards the ring, with Scythe never taking his eyes off of the squared circle. Saint accepts the fan's disapproval as he makes his way to the ring.

Jerry Andrews: The first competitor involved in the Scramble, Scythe! Looking to get on a roll tonight and a win could catapult him into the main event picture.

Al Laiman: You’re right about that, Jerry. Scythe was once considered to be a shoo-in for main event status with a dominant debut, but with the extended holiday break? Well, let’s just say there’s a lot riding on this match.

Scythe simply slides into the ring, Saint moving to the area of ringside behind the behemoth. As the music fades, it is replaced by ‘Pain Redefined’ by Disturbed. The light drumline begins, and the lights pick up speed. With each exclamation by the vocalist three short bursts of red and blue fireworks rocket toward the ceiling. On cue with the lyrics, Ace Anderson erupts from behind the curtain, arms raised.

Mark Long: Introducing our next competitor, weighing in at 290 pounds ... ladies and gentlemen ... ACE ANDERSON!

Anderson takes a few seconds to survey the sound and the scene, staring at Scythe as he walks to the ring with long strides ... looking determined and mentally preparing himself. He reaches the ring ... stops ... looks at the crowd and leaps to the outside of the ring. Pyrotechnics blast from the ringposts as his feet hit the apron, shaking the ring ropes as the fireworks die.

Al Laiman: Ace Anderson, THIS man is going to be the one to dictate the pace in my opinion. He’s going to force the two lighter opponents to play HIS game, and if all goes well? He’ll be walking out with the belt.

Jerry Andrews: You may be right about that, Al. But don’t expect the last two combatants to follow willingly into that trap. That’s what that is: a trap. And Ace is well versed in having to force people to play that game.

Ace takes a look at the screaming fans, the excited masses and throws his fists into the air as a show of respect before moving into a corner opposite Scythe ... staring him down and alternating glances between him and the entranceway. It isn’t long before his gaze is met with the next entrant.

The tron starts displaying gritty footage of vintage classic rock bands as ‘Pick Up The Pizzas’ by James Gang plays over the speakers. Darren emerges from the back, climbing on top of a nearby set piece in an attempt to get the fans riled up. It’s a mixed reaction, but Darren embraces the former and rocks out as he makes his way to the ring.

Mark Long: The next opponent, weighing in at 185 pounds ... ladies and gentlemen ... DARREN ... THE BOMBERRRRR ... HUGHES!
Al Laiman: Darren Hughes has been on a bit of a roll lately, and the fans are starting to get with his program Jerry. But will he be able to hang with the biggest of dogs in the PCW yard? He’s going to have to force Anderson and Scythe out of their comfort zones. Definitely has the speed advantage out of all the participants and that’s going to be the deciding factor as far as whether or not he’ll be able to pull out a win here tonight.

Darren steps into the ring and stares down both Ace Anderson AND Scythe before crossing the ring and climbing the turnbuckles, motioning to the crowd as his music fades and ‘Critical Acclaim’ starts to play. The lights dim down to darkness, except for the stage. The PCWtron plays clips of Ford hitting his finishers and other high- impact moves. Once the heavy guitars kick in, Whitey walks out onto the stage with his arms held open, soaking in the crowd reaction with an arrogant smile.

Jerry Andrews: Whitey Ford. What else needs to be said, Al?

Al Laiman: Exactly, Jerry. He is the PCW International champion. That’s all that needs to be said, really.

Mark Long: And our final contestant, accompanied by MJ Windsor... he is THE Asshole ... and is THE PCW INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION! Weighing in at 220 pounds, WHITEYYYYYYY FORD!

Jawing with a few fans on the way down to the ring, he proudly displays the championship belt as he enters the ring ... standing front and center and making sure all other participants get a good, long look at him standing in the center of the ring holding it high above his head. After handing it off to Roberto Garcia, Whitey takes up the center of the ring ... showing more balls than brains currently and antagonizing the three other competitors.

The bulls are snorting, rip-roaring and itching to go ...

DING DING DING!

And with the bell, Whitey is crushed between three oncoming vehicles of pure violence.

All three men proceed to stomp, punch, hammer and scrape at Whitey as he desperately scrambles for the ropes and a much needed buffer between him and his three challengers. Scythe and Ace Anderson each grab a leg and pull Whitey back towards the center of the ring ... holding his legs apart for a wishbone type maneuver while Darren proceeds to stomp in at the same time. Whitey’s in a world of hurt as he goes for the ropes yet again. Darren is the one to attack on his lonesome next ...

... only to be caught by Scythe and Ace who, showing extraordinary teamwork, grab Darren and toss him over the top rope on the far side. As he struggles to get to his feet, Ace returns to focusing on Whitey. Scythe, meanwhile, seeing an opportunity ... rushes Darren and slams into him full force. Darren having nowhere to go, he flies backwards through the air magnificently. A sight to behold, Darren crashes sickeningly into the ringside barricade ... actually breaking through it rib-first.

Jerry Andrews: Oh dear GOD, Al!

Al Laiman: That was freaking incredible! Do it again! Well ... show the replay. Show a replay, but let me get popcorn first.

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, Darren Hughes has been thrown THROUGH our ringside barricade by the monstrous Scythe.

The referee rushes to check on Darren, leaving Ace, Scythe and Whitey on the inside of the ring. Saint cheering on his unleashed monster from the outside, Whitey reaches out and strikes Saint from the mat. Nothing major, since Whitey can’t get much leverage from the mat, but enough to get Scythe’s attention. Scythe goes after Whitey but Windsor pulls the ‘director’ away and strikes him flush on the chin, dropping him to a heap on the arena floor.

As Saint goes to stand, slowly it should be added, Scythe has noticed what is transpiring and has Windsor in the air ... holding him aloft with a vicious chokehold. Scythe standing on the ring apron with Windsor in his grasp, legs kicking and flailing in desperation ... Whitey has regained his footing and is hammering on the monster with everything he can manage. It’s doing very little save for annoying Scythe apparently. The only man not mentioned makes his presence known in Ace Anderson ... rushing in and throwing a vicious double clothesline to send Whitey to the floor, the other arm impacting Scythe enough to loosen his grip on MJ Windsor.

Roberto Garcia having returned to the ring after having made sure Darren Hughes has gotten the help he needs, he’s just in time to see Ace nail a beautiful series of headbutts on the gargantuan Scythe. An Irish Whip and Ace Anderson absolutely flattens Scythe with a Maple Syrup Slam. The ring shakes out of anger, the crowd roaring with approval. Ace Anderson quickly swoops in and covers Scythe.

1 ...

2 ...




... 3!

Jerry Andrews: Ace Anderson has just ... ACE ANDERSON HAS PINNED SCYTHE!

Al Laiman: What a quick pinfall, I can’t believe it! But can Ace hold on to it? He still has a WAYS to go, Jerry and I don’t think that is going to sit well with ANY of the other participants of the match.

Scythe is up within moments, and seeing RED. He charges Ace full on, driving him back into the corner and throwing heavy lumber. Rights and lefts, absolutely breaking through Ace’s defenses ... pummeling the current International Champion. A few shoulder blocks later and Ace is left draped powerlessly before the might of Scythe. Backing away only at the ref’s physical insistence, Scythe turns into a Whitey Ford clothesline. The attack bounces off the man-mountain and Whitey backpedals, attempting it once more.

Whiffing over Scythe, Whitey hits the ropes and on the return trip ... is caught by the sly hand of Lucius Saint. Whitey turning to face the sneaky manager, Saint backs away and into the waiting and eager fists of MJ Windsor. The referee has had enough and moves to the ropes himself, ordering VERY LOUDLY that MJ Windsor and Lucius Saint are EJECTED FROM RINGSIDE.

The standard protests are given, but both men decide it more prudent to heed the decree so as not to ruin their clients’ chances at a major victory. Whitey is incredibly dismissive of the whole affair and turns back to the task at hand ... which happens to be an Ace Anderson belly-to-belly suplex. Whitey is hurled across the ring and rolls out onto the apron, writhing in a great amount of pain.

Jerry Andrews: Both Windsor and Saint have been ejected from ringside! Maybe now we’ll actually have a fair contest.

Al Laiman: I sincerely DOUBT that, Jerry. I mean, you’ve got two Bulls on Parade in Ace Anderson and Scythe, with Whitey looking in from the outside. How ELSE is he going to be a factor in this match? I sense some trickery yet to be seen.

Jerry Andrews: Is that a bet?

Al Laiman: You can’t afford a bet with me.

Ace having disposed of Whitey for the time being, he focuses his full attention on the behemoth before him in Scythe who looks to be no worse for the wear other than severely angered. All that rage and no one to direct it, Scythe lashes out at the nearest person in Ace Anderson. The two men beginning to trade blows in the center of the ring, no man giving an inch to the other. It looks as though Ace is beginning to get the upper hand on Scythe ...

... when OUT OF NOWHERE, DARREN HUGHES ATTACKS FROM THE TOP ROPE WITH A DIVING SHOULDER TACKLE!

The crowd roars its’ approval at the heart and soul of Darren Hughes, and for the moment his bold attack has paid off as both Ace Anderson AND Scythe are laid out. Darren moves as quickly as he can for a pin on Scythe, figuring that the damage taken earlier might assist him in a second pinfall. That is not to be the case as he only manages a two-count on the felled golem.

Darren switches over to Ace and drapes across him with a pinfall, to no avail here either. Darren stands and surveys the wreckage, finding himself standing alone atop two massive men ... with a severely damaged rib cage. He doesn’t even get the chance to plot a way to move one of them as Whitey Ford is back in the fray, attacking with punches and kicks to an already compromised Darren Hughes. Big European uppercut and Whitey is on a roll. Rushing over to the ropes, he adds a little momentum to the attack and drops Darren with a high-angle dropkick.

Al Laiman: Now THIS is smart thinking, Andrews. Darren’s already been decimated by Scythe, and while his determination is something to be admired ... the man is STILL at a major disadvantage.

Jerry Andrews: DEFINITELY smart thinking, Al. But don’t count Hughes out YET. He shouldn’t even be up as it is, but just look at him. You have to believe he’s got as good a chance as any of them.

Whitey now in FULL control of the situation, he’s putting Hughes through his paces. Enter Scythe, who comes in like a human wrecking ball and pushes both men back into the nearest corner, all three of them fighting with renewed vigor. A flurry of fists and feet, it’s impossible to tell who is who and who is getting the upperhand. No one ... well, no one that is until Ace Anderson rushes in with a giant splash in the corner that pancakes everyone.

Picking up Darren first, he’s going to finish the job like it should’ve been done earlier had he been wise enough to exit the bout.

Dropping him with a sambo suplex, Ace pops up in complete control and goes for Whitey next. Whitey responds with a thumb to the eye, momentarily halting Ace. Going in to capitalize, Ace shoves him away out of instinct. Whitey pushed to the mat, he stands back up quickly and jumps in on Ace ... raining down blows. Weathering the flurry of shots, Ace manages to get enough of handle on the situation to toss Whitey AT Scythe, who had just begun to get his bearings. Both men crumpling, Ace is the sole standing combatant and takes just a split second to consider his position.

Whitey sneaking off to the side, rolling out onto the ring apron ... Ace wades in on Scythe with a giant kick to the face. Whitey reaches in and trips Ace enough for Darren to nail a tide-turning dropkick to the knee. Ace dropping to his knee, Scythe reaches up with a giant paw and connects with Ace’s jaw. Ace dropping fully to the mat now, Whitey takes the chance to springboard over Darren and Scythe onto Ace with a picture perfect senton splash.

1 ...

2 ...

Ace kicks out at two and one half, leaving Whitey to plan his next course of action. Darren sliding in gives him that very idea, Whitey rising and picking up Darren by the waist then dropping him onto his back and ribs with a breath-taking spinebuster that leaves him writing in agony near the turnbuckle. Whitey is atop the mountain now and the only threat to his dominance is Ace, who has begun to rise from his sudden attack. Whitey grabs Ace’s head to help pull him up. A strong bit of ring presence and Ace has dropped Whitey with a surprise jaw breaker that leaves Whitey reeling.

Ace sliding in, he captures Whitey and connects with a HUGE t-bone suplex ... HURLING the man over the top rope and to the floor.

Jerry Andrews: That could’ve done it for Ace Anderson and sealed his victory. Who can overcome Ace Anderson? With all that’s going on, Ace has remained firmly atop the match. The only hope would be ...

Al Laiman: You’re speaking too soon, Andrews. Look at this!

Look at this, indeed. Scythe AND Darren Hughes are both back to their feet. Scythe wading in with punches, Darren is attacking the legs and knees. Neither man relenting, Ace is helpless to defend against both of them and soon finds himself in a defensive stance to help stem the constant barrage. Once Ace is less of a factor, Scythe picks Darren up and gorilla press slams him with authority.

Not stopping with just flattening him, Scythe picks Darren up and hoists him onto his shoulders with a beautiful Argentine backbreaker. A deviation from his normal method of ending a match, Scythe knows well enough that Darren is about ready to snap in half at the waist. The referee is right there to check on Darren, but Darren refuses to give in. Agonizing seconds pass and it seems inevitable that Darren will indeed tap. Scythe will be named the current International champion.

Al Laiman: I was wondering when the awesome might of Scythe would play the biggest part in this match. Right at the end, it seems. He’s going to break Darren in two.

Ace having fully recovered, he sneaks up behind Scythe and with a massive show of pure unbridled power ... HOISTS both Scythe AND Darren Hughes up, dropping Scythe with a destructive German suplex and in turn ... a modified and quite unwilling Samoan Drop on Darren Hughes.

Jerry Andrews: Dear GOD the absolute power of Ace Anderson, lifting BOTH men at once!

Ace recovering from the expenditure of energy needed to take both men down, he begins stalking a slow to stagger to his feet Darren Hughes. This is not to be, as Whitey Ford has picked the perfect moment to rush the ring ... catching Ace in the back with a spear. Dropping to his knees, Whitey slides back into the corner as the referee checks on Ace across the way. Whitey kneeling back, he’s making some kind of movement behind his back. It isn’t until Ace rushes him that the extent of his machinations are revealed.

Whitey catching Ace with a rolling hurricanrana, Ace is forced down to the second turnbuckle ... which is now padless, the steel exposed for all to see ... and for Ace to catch right in the mush. Ace smacking the metal with the bridge of his nose, he drops to the mat and lies prone in the middle of the ring. Whitey, however, looks unconcerned when the referee calls for a fall. It’s a Scramble match ... so frickin’ what, right?

Whitey smiles and acts shocked, then shrugs and drops on top of the powerless Ace Anderson.

The referee has no choice ...

1 ...

2 ...

... 3!

Jerry Andrews: Whitey knew what he was doing ALL along! He KNEW that disqualifications meant nothing, all that mattered is who had the last pinfall or submission in the time limit allowed.

Al Laiman: Absolutely incredible! What cunning, what ... FORESIGHT! The man deserves to be champion with THAT kind of awareness.

Whitey now leading the pack, he has only a few minutes left to survive and Ace is JUST now beginning to stir. Whitey moving in to kick Ace, Ace catches his foot and pulls him in for a rising short am clothesline that leaves both of the men reeling. Ace is slowly rising to his feet when Mark Long sounds out over the microphone. ‘One minute remains in the the Scramble. ONE MINUTE!’ Ace sensing his victory slipping away, he picks Whitey up only to be met with a desperation elbow smash by Darren Hughes.

Ace shrugging it off, Darren goes at it again. Ace has had enough and grabs Darren by the head and tosses him backfirst into the exposed turnbuckle. Scythe is running now like a mad bull in a china shop. Ace sidesteps him and redirects him into the ropes, catching him with a huge sideslam. Whitey. His attention focused now on the still dazed Whitey Ford, he drags Whitey to his feet and tucks his head under.

Jerry Andrews: We all know what’s coming next, Al! It looks like Ace is going to put Whitey away with the Exemplifier. This will cement his victory, and an International Championship.

Al Laiman: Not so fast, Jerry. What in the hell is going on here?!

Al Laiman’s exclamations not going on deaf ears, the crowd is abuzz as a figure is seen sprinting towards the ringside area. It’s Skylar Marshall! As he rounds the corner, Ace doesn’t see him. He’s simply dropping Whitey to the mat with a devastating Exemplifier. Skylar is shouting instructions at the time keeper. And with a sudden stop in the middle of a three count ...

... the bell rings.

DING DING DING DING!

The confusion is evident on every face in attendance, but not on Ace Anderson’s. He stands, fists raised in the air proclaiming his victory and subsequent title reign. Skylar grabs the belt and is rushing to the ring. Once he hits the ring, he moves to Ace and Whitey ... who is still laying motionless on the mat. He points to Mark Long, prompting Long to speak.

Mark Long: Ladies and Gentlemen, the time limit has expired. Your winner ... AND STILL PCW INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION ... WHITEYYYYYY FORD!

Jerry Andrews: That’s ... that’s not right, Al! Ace still had ten seconds left on the clock! He should’ve won this thing. Look at the clock!

Indeed, the clock has just now run out and the match is officially over.

Winner: Whitey Ford via pinfall over Ace Anderson

Time To Find Out
Details: Shane Dodge is on one of his random meanderings through the passages of PCW Arena when he turns a corner and spies Grimm under a hallway light. Grimm stands with his head bowed and eyes closed, rocking side-to-side, fists clenching and unclenching. His lips move as he mutters inaudibly to himself. And yet Shane Dodge still approaches, microphone in hand.

Dodge: Grimm, tonight you face Sean Rhodes for the PCW World Title. It is your biggest match in quite some time, and yet it is not without controversy.

Grimm (without looking up): I won that battle royal fair and square. No one can take that from me. Not even Mr. Showtime.

Dodge: Oh, no, there’s no doubt about that. I’m referring to the most recent Icey Awards where you were named Best Singles Star. Some argue it doesn’t make any sense to award that to anyone other than the World Champion.

Grimm: Are you one of those people?

Dodge: I’m an unbiased reporter so that’s neither here nor there, but…

Grimm stops rocking and raises his head.

Grimm: I understand their concerns, but it was out of my hands. The voters spoke just like they have at every Iceys show we’ve ever had. I can’t help it if some current members of the PCW roster aren’t able to get their heads around the idea that the masses see things differently than they do. And that maybe some current members of the PCW roster need to open their eyes a little wider and look around every once in a while.

Dodge: Uh huh. What about you, Grimm? Do you agree with the vote?

Grimm cocks his head and narrows those glacier ice eyes of his. He scratches his chin before answering.

Grimm: We’ve had time for accolades and respect up ‘til now, and there will still be time for that after. But tonight I come to bury Sean Rhodes, not to praise him. Tonight shall be one prolonged insult. And tonight, we’ll put an end to any doubt anyone may have over who deserves what. The World Champion is, and I quote, “the best PCW has to offer.” Will Rhodes show the world the voters were wrong? Will I show that this title shot was long overdue? Or will we just kill each other and leave the title behind for the rest to fight over? What do you think, Shane?

Dodge: I, um, I’m not at liberty to answer that.

A grin curls up behind his beard and Grimm steps towards Shane Dodge. He pats the interviewer on the cheek.

Grimm: I guess we’ll all just have to watch and find out, won’t we?

Grimm turns and walks away down the hall, leaving Dodge and his cameraman alone to find answers to life’s other vexing questions.

The Spotlight Hurts
Details: The lights go out. Suddenly the sound of guitars pierce through the silence. A spotlight shines on the entrance. The crowd starts to murmur. As the guitars get louder, Rick Majors appears in the entrance way, the spotlight directly on him and no one else. Majors pauses in the entrance way for a moment. He's looking down at the floor and appears to be speaking to himself. He then shakes his head quickly, breathes deeply and looks out towards the crowd.

Majors stares out at the crowd, attempting to compose himself.

You drink the wise blood
You're gonna hear about it
You'll be taken down brick by brick by brick
Burn the orphanage
You're gonna pay for it
They will purify block by block by block

Majors stands at the top of the ramp, staring out at nothing in particular.

Demons
Come on
You've got a vision
You're on a mission
Demons
Live on
And when I die, hang me high

Majors then slowly walks down to the ring, as the spotlight follows him. Climbing the ring steps, he pauses. He turns towards the crowd, standing on the ring apron.

They're gonna bury you
They're gonna finish
They're gonna stand em up six by six by six
You pull the hood back
I wanna know
Which way will the heavenly go?

Taken down, taken down, taken down

He enters the ring, still only lit by the spotlight. He stands in the center of the ring, looking out towards the crowd. He slowly starts to circle the ring, stretching and loosening up his body.

Mark Long: Introducing next, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at 227 pounds ... RICK MAAAAAAAAAJORS!

Demons
Live on
And when I die, hang me high
And you will answer to no one else but me

The lights in the arena then come back on as Majors walks to the side of the ring and collects a microphone from one of the ringside workers. With it safely in hand, Majors moves into the middle of the ring and speaks.

Rick Majors: Don’t worry everyone... I’m not sure to give a long diatribe tonight. Michael Wryght will be out here in a moment. Or at least I hope he will be. You see, I have my doubts as to whether or not he’s actually going to appear. I mean, we all know where Michael Wryght’s focus is right now and it certainly isn’t on this match.

Majors pauses for a moment to look out at the crowd.

Rick Majors: For the longest time he’s had his eyes locked on the incredibly glory that is the PCW World Championship. Right now, as we sit here, he’s looking past this match and toward his guaranteed championship match at Mass Destruction III.

The crowd cheers at the mention of PCW’s next pay-per-view event.

Rick Majors: It must be nice to have such luxuries guaranteed to you, but I guess that’s life when you’re as privileged as Michael Wryght. But Michael, I’ve got news for you: you’re not competing in a championship match tonight. No, the match you wanted to be a part of so desperately will take place later tonight and it will take place without you.

Majors smiles at that thought.

Rick Majors: So Michael... you’re stuck with me. You’re stuck facing a man who you have no interest facing. That idea would bother some people. It would really upset them. But not me. I don’t care. Because I don’t care how you feel about me or anyone else for that matter. You can classify me as a distraction or a pest or anything you’d like. You can look past me and on to Sean Rhodes or Grimm if you’d want to. I don’t care.

Majors looks directly up the ramp towards the entrance way now.

Rick Majors: Your opinion of me does not matter. All that matters to me is that if you decide to step through that curtain, if you can find the time in your busy Hollywood schedule to make your way down to this ring, you’re going to suffer. Michael, I’m going to hurt you. And you deserve it Michael. This isn’t about a title right now. This isn’t about the spotlight. This isn’t about anything other than two men in a fight.

The crowd cheers at the mention of the word “fight.”

Rick Majors: You love to toy with people. You love to take lives in your hands. You love to have power. Look at all of the lives you’ve damaged to get yourself a little title shot. You’ll take any opportunity to screw someone over if it means you can advance your own career. You’re what’s wrong with wrestling, Michael. You’re the sickness. You’re the cancer. And it’s time for someone to cut you out. So come down to the ring Michael. I know this isn’t a match for a championship, I know this isn’t a big budget movie, I know that all this is is a little match against a guy you don’t care for. But I also know that you have an ego... a huge ego. And it’s your ego that’s going to make you come down to the ring tonight. It’s your ego that’s going to make you stand face-to-face with your reckoning. And it’s your ego that will be your downfall.

Majors sits on the ring ropes, opening them. He points towards the entrance way.

Rick Majors: Come on Michael. Come on down. You don’t want to miss your own funeral, do you?

Majors drops the mic and waits.

MATCH EIGHT
Singles Match
“Mr Showtime” Michael Wryght vs Rick Majors
Referee: Manny Cruz
Details: "Gold on the Ceiling" by The Black Keys begins to blare over the P.A. system and the arena darkens. A single spotlight begins to shine on the entrance way illumination none other than “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. He stands there with his back to the ring and his arms crossed. The back of his robe is exposed with the words in blue and silver “Mr. Showtime” and slightly behind him is the beautiful Perfection. Showtime slowly walks to the beat of the music as the only light in the arena follows him to the ring.

Mark Long: Introducing first, accompanied by Perfection ...

He walks up the stairs and wipes his feet off on the outside apron. He ducks under the top rope and two other spotlights shoot on him he spins and puts his arms out. He slowly makes his way to the corner crossing his wrists, with is fingers are lock making a “W.” He pulls his arms down setting off some small pyros behind him, which also begins the lights to return to the arena.

Mark Long: Weighing in at 252 pounds and hailing from Brick, New Jersey ... ‘Mr. Showtime’ ... MICHAEL WRYYYYGHT!

Jerry Andrews: Mr. Showtime and Rick Majors have had a few run-ins in the past few weeks, this might just be the culmination of all that increasing tension. Showtime just wants Majors out of his hair.

Al Laiman: Maybe Jerry, all I know is that since Showtime sold his stocks to Skylar Marshall ... he gets an AUTOMATIC World Title opportunity at Mass Destruction III at WHOEVER the champion is.

Jerry Andrews: He’d do well to not look past his opponent here tonight.

DING DING!

The two lock up instantly and after a bit of back and forth, Showtime manages to get the advantage ... pushing Majors back into the nearest corner. Majors quickly spins out and pushes Showtime back first against the turnbuckles, both jockeying for position in the outset. Manny Cruz is in perfect position and begins the five count. Upon reaching five, Manny interjects himself and Showtime having the advantage at the time ... backs away.

Slowly.

No cheap shots, nothing. A clean break.

Jerry Andrews: And a clean break from Showtime, Al. Some surprisingly GOOD sportsmanship to start us off.

Al Laiman: Don’t expect it to last, Andrews.

The two men begin circling in the center of the ring once more, and another collar-and-elbow tie up. Majors, avoiding being forced into a disadvantageous position, slips to Showtime’s back. Showtime wriggling and writhing to escape, finds himself hoisted up and forced to the mat stomach first. Showtime moves every which way to escape, but Majors is right there with him ... keeping a dominant position on the ground.

Showtime manages to sneak his way to his feet, but Majors is right there with a side headlock. Really grinding in the hold, Showtime forces Majors into the ropes. Leapfrogging over Majors, he awaits the return trip and aims a chop to Majors’ chest ... were it still in the crosshairs. Majors, however, has ducked fluidly underneath and added a THIRD bounce off the ropes for added momentum. Showtime turns around just in time to catch a sudden and violent clothesline that sends him reeling ... rolling down and out onto the ringside floor.

Majors waits as Manny begins the standard count. Showtime paces about slightly, gathering his wits and composing himself before rolling in at the count of 6. The two circle again, and Majors goes for what he feels as the third tie-up in as many minutes. Showtime, however, has other things on his mind and sidesteps the grapple attempt ... connecting with a haymaker to the side of Majors’ head. Stiff, crisp strikes to Majors’ ... who retaliates in kind. The two trade blows until Majors catches the upperhand, forcing Showtime back into a corner.

Showtime showing the advanced ring presence he’s known for, he pulls Majors in and forces his head in against the top turnbuckles. Majors staggering out of the corner area, Showtime rises and points to his head and makes it known about his vast intellect. Grabbing hold of Majors, he whips him into the corner and delivers a sudden stopping clothesline that drops Majors to a sitting position.

Jerry Andrews: Now we get to see Showtime control the match. Majors is playing HIS game.

A picturesque shuffle back kick and Showtime is on top for the cover.

1 ..

2 ...

... kick out! Majors throws a shoulder up at two and a half to break the count, and Showtime couldn’t care less. He non-chalantly goes for a second pinfall attempt, only to net a one-count this time. He’s showing Majors that he has a firm grasp on the match. Showtime pulls him up and Majors explodes out of the gate with an arm wrench into a hook kick. Showtime drops to the mat and Majors goes for his own cover attempt, met with only a two count.

Jerry Andrews: Majors showing that he’s not impressed by Showtime’s prowess, responding in kind.

Al Laiman: These two men are VERY evenly contested. I think it’s going to come down to who makes the first BIG mistake.

Majors pulling Showtime to his feet, he hooks Showtime up and hoists him into the air for a delayed vertical suplex ... unfortunately for Majors, Showtime manages to drop to his feet behind Majors and cinch in a waistlock. Majors reaching a hand down to help loosen the hold ... a few moments of struggling and Majors is free. Drop toe hold and Showtime is back mounted with Majors wrenching in a side headlock. Showtime fighting to his feet, he forces Majors off and throws him to the ropes.

With a leap, Majors attempts a diving clothesline. Showtime wisely ducking underneath, Majors rolls through to avoid impact. Sprinting towards the ropes in hopes of catching Majors off guard, Showtime meets Majors center ring ... although Majors is none too thrilled with the back and forth and plants Showtime with a spinning heel kick aimed at the midsection.

Al Laiman: A FANTASTIC show of athleticism by these two men. And listen to the crowd, they’re eating it UP!

Laiman is right, the crowd is going wild with the evenly matched action ... even breaking into a ‘This is Awesome’ chant. Majors capitalizing on Showtime’s predicament, he grabs Showtime’s head and affects a vicious knee lift that leaves Showtime on the mat. A quick pinfall attempt met with a two count, Majors pushes the offense and several elbow smashes later has Showtime backpedaling. A reverse DDT and Showtime is dragging his way to the ropes in an attempt to escape Majors.

Majors attempting to pull Showtime back in, Showtime kicks Majors in the head once ... twice ... three times and it’s enough to stop the oncoming assault. As Showtime rises, Majors attempts to recapture the momentum that he finds slipping away ... only to meet a Showtime cross-body block. A long one count and the tide has turned once again.

Showtime grabs Majors by the neck and twists, hanging him backwards for a long two seconds before dropping into a devastating hanging neckbreaker. Another pinfall attempt and another two-count. Showtime back in the driver’s seat, he takes the chance to catch his own breath as Majors struggles to pull himself to his feet. Showtime rushing in, Majors catches him with a clothesline. A second attempt, a second clothesline. Third time’s the charm? Not quite. A third clothesline.

Majors now moving onto the attack, the crowd is reeling from the changes in momentum but they’re loving EVERY minute of it. The bigger reactions coming when Majors is in control, they’re hearing a lot of cheers now as Majors presses the offensive. Kicks are the attack of choice, catching Showtime with a kick to the knees ... followed by another one .... up to the abdomen ... both side worked over evenly until Showtime is kneeling. Going for a huge head kick, Showtime ducks and catches Majors arms’ in front of him ... managing to snap off a surprise cross-armed backdrop.

Floating it over into a pin, the referee counts.

1 ...

2 ...

....th-NO! A kickout at the last moment by Majors and the crowd is eating it up. Showtime pulling Majors to his feet and to face him, Majors avoids a chop and throws his own boot to Showtime’s gut ... doubling him over. Hooking the neck, Majors picks Showtime up ... AND OVER with a massive Brainbuster that can be heard around the entire PCW arena.

Jerry Andrews: Great back and forth action, but Majors seems to be coming into his own finally ... that was a BEAUTIFUL brain buster!

Al Laiman: Showtime has this covered. Do you -really- think that that is ALL it’ll take to put Showtime away? Please.

Majors sense this as well, evidenced by his lack of a pinfall attempt. Stalking Showtime, he waits for him to get to his feet before pulling him in close ... cinching a waistlock and leveraging the man over him in a German suplex that any Greco-Roman wrestler would be proud of. He can smell blood in the water ... and Showtime is on the menu. Showtime crawling slowly to his feet, Majors rushes in only to be forced to duck under a Showtime lariat. Majors is on a roll and in one fluid motion catches Showtime in the back of the head with a spinning heel kick.

Showtime collapses onto the mat, and Majors dives straight for the pin.

1 ...

2 ...

thre-NO!! No, Showtime kicks out!

Jerry Andrews: Majors has Showtime REELING! He’s looking to put him away. If Showtime has any chance ...

Al Laiman: If Showtime has any SENSE, he’ll roll out of the ring and catch his breath.

Showtime would if he could. But Majors is too far ahead and throws a boot to the gut, doubling Showtime over. Hooking one arm and then the other, the end is inevitable as he hoists Showtime up and drills him with a high impact Double Armed DDT. Major Impact here at Collision Course III! Majors rolls Showtime over and hooks the leg ... the referee in perfect position.

1 ...

2 ...

... The referee doesn’t even MAKE it to three as the figure at ringside is shouting for Showtime to get up. Majors standing from his pinfall attempt, he looks on in absolute annoyance ... giving Mr. Showtime enough of a chance to roll out of the ring to relative safety. Majors turning around to see this, he watches as Showtime scuttles his way over to

Jerry Andrews: Skylar Marshall! AGAIN! What IS this man DOING tonight?! Majors had this match WON, it’s highway robbery!

Al Laiman: Now now, Jerry. If he’s out here, then there’s got to be SOMETHING worth getting done. Let the man handle business.

Skylar Marshall pulling Showtime close, he speaks into his ear under the radar ... fans at ringside not even able to make out what he’s saying. With this, Showtime smiles softly at first ... followed by a larger grin ... and finally a laugh. Marshall simply nods solemnly and both men begin to make their way up the ramp. Abandoning the match, leaving Rick Majors in the ring on his own ... the referee sizes up the situation and makes the executive call to start the ten count.

1 ...

2 ...

3...

The fans are booing heavily now, absolutely OUTRAGED at the sudden turn of events.

6 ...

7 ....

8 ....

9 ...



... 10!!

The referee moves to the corner and signals for the bell to ring.

DING DING DING DING!

The referee moves back to the center of the ring as ring announcer Mark Long cues up the microphone. 'Ladies and gentlemen, as a result of a count out ... your winner by FORFEIT ... RICK MAAAAAAAAAAJORS!’ The crowd is booing and throwing trash at the ramp and at the two retreating men, voicing their utter displeasure with the outcome of what WAS a hotly contested matchup.

Winner: Rick Majors by Count-Out

[Non Compos Mentis]

MAIN EVENT
World Championship Match
Sean Rhodes (World ©) vs. Grimm
Referee: Tyrone Little
Details: A hush falls over the PCW Faithful as Tyrone Little joins Mark Long in the ring. Though silent, the energy in the arena can be felt by all, subtly electric and building to a boom. The lights go out; nothing is visible, but the most familiar voice in Pure Class Wrestling cuts through the darkness.

Mark Long: And now, ladies and gentlemen, your Collision Course Main Event! The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the Pure Class Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship.


The crowd’s anticipation comes to a head and they cheer until a lone spotlight illuminates the entryway. They once again fall silent as "Winter Shaker" seeps from the speakers.

Mark Long: Introducing first, the challenger: hailing from Hangtown, Kentucky and weighing in at two-hundred and seventeen pounds, he is GRIMMMMM!

Before Mark Long finishes his inflection the crowd erupts once more as Phinehas Grimm steps out to bask in the light and shadows. With head bowed, arms limp, rogue strands of dripping hair hanging in his face, he radiates focus and determination. He takes it all in for a few moments before making the long walk to the ring, ignoring the fans along the way while Wovenhand continues his serenade.

Al Laiman: It’s happening, Jerry! It’s finally happening. This entire night, these past months, they’ve been building to this moment. We knew it would happen since the end of Deadly Intentions, and now it’s time!

Jerry Andrews: I’m as excited as you are, Al. But one has to wonder: there has been some controversy among fans regarding Grimm winning Best Singles Star at the Icey’s. Some say Sean Rhodes was more deserving. What do you think?

Phinehas climbs up onto the apron and slides in between the ropes. Hopping up onto a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Phinehas drops down and waits. The lights in the arena dim, and once more the crowd falls silent in suspense.

Al Laiman: I think we’re about to see a man walk out with the only accolade that matters, Jerry. And we’re about to see two men destroy each other to leave with it.

A shuddering bell toll rings out through the arena, a familiar signal for a single man.

Mark Long: And now, introducing your Pure Class Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion!

The toll is followed by three more in a slow rhythm until an electric guitar riff starts, slow and melodic.

Mark Long: He resides in Buffalo, New York and weighs in at two-hundred and fifty-five pounds. He is SEANN RHOOODDDEESSS!!

Hearing the name of their champion, the crowd can be silent no more. The lights in the arena lift to show 'Non Compos Mentis' Sean Rhodes, carrying the PCW World Title over his shoulder. The Faithful explode in frantic fanfare, screaming and cheering, holding nothing back. With a look toward the fans Rhodes begins to make his way to the ring, giving the crowd aggressive nods of appreciation as he goes.

Al Laiman: Listen to this crowd, Jerry!

Jerry Andrews: Proof that there are no greater fans in the world than PCW’s Faithful.

After roughly ten second of the riff a cymbal begins to chime. The cymbal hits eight times in time with the guitar riff. After the eighth, a stronger thud begins to hit. Rhodes continues his way to the ring, slapping outstretched hands and pumping himself up.

On the final strike the guitar riff suddenly grows quicker and harder. As Rhodes reaches the bottom of the ramp the lyrics begin to blast through the PA. He walks up the ring steps, onto the apron and into the ring. Taking a last look at the crowd Rhodes hands his title to Tyrone Little, makes his way to his corner, and turns his attention to Phinehas Grimm.

Champion and challenger stand in their respective corners, locked in a piercing staredown of competitive fire, escalated by the roars of approval around them. Tyrone Little raises the World Title in the air, then hands the belt to the bellman. He checks both men for foreign objects, says a few words to each competitor, and then calls for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Jerry Andrews: And the match we’ve all been waiting for is underway!

Al Laiman: I can barely hear myself think over the crowd and the screaming from the Spanish announce table, Jerry!

Jerry Andrews: Better get used to it, Al. It’ll be this way from bell to bell.

Rhodes and Grimm circle, sizing each other up, both willing but not quite ready to make the first move. The fans buzz and the energy builds. Suddenly both men shoot forward like cannon fire, meeting in the middle of the ring in a flurry of blows.

Tyrone Little thinks about breaking them apart, but can’t put himself between the flinging fists. Both men launch lefts and rights, stiff shots like warm whiskey, relentless and without remorse. Two haymakers from Rhodes. A left-right combo from Grimm. Rhodes fires back with an uppercut; Grimm responds with a bellclap. Rhodes shakes the cobwebs and delivers two knees to Grimm’s gut.

Jerry Andrews: They’re trading shots now; who will be the first to break?

The knees take Grimm’s wind and Rhodes starts to seize the advantage. With the momentum he irish-whips Grimm and runs at the opposite ropes. As the two men meet Rhodes plants a running knee to Grimm’s midsection. Grimm hits the mat and Rhodes take a second to raise his arms to the crowd. But only a second, as he knows he can’t give Grimm any time to recover. He drops a few boots on Phinehas for good measure before lifting him to his feet. In an effort to stop up Mentis’s momentum, Grimm sneaks in a quick throat thrust and Rhodes staggers back, clutching his windpipe.

Jerry Andrews: A well-placed shot by Grimm as he looks to gain the upper hand.

Al Laiman: Even though he’s pegged as a wildman, Grimm’s methodical awareness is uncanny. Even when he’s backed into a corner, he’s only ever a single strike away from breaking free.

And Grimm does break free. The throat thrust provides a window, allowing Grimm to string together a series of hit-and-runs. Rhodes recovers quickly, but Grimm rocks him off balance, burying the point of his elbow into Rhodes’s chin. Rhodes stumbles, and Grimm follows the elbow strike with a seamless backfist, connecting clean with the Champion’s temple. Rhodes staggers further, and Grimm attacks. With a combination not taught in any gym anywhere, nearly too fast to see, Grimm manages to strike Rhodes in his stomach, chin, chest, calf and forehead in a matter of seconds.

Jerry Andrews: An unorthodox series of moves has given Grimm an almost full advantage.

Al Laiman: I’ve heard it called the Science of Eight Limbs, Jerry. The truth is, all eight ‘limbs’ deal devastating damage.

Rhodes is reeling now, and Grimm uses the opportunity to run. He hits the ropes and returns with a flying lariat, grounding Rhodes. He makes a quick pinfall attempt, aware it won’t put Rhodes away but to measure the damage done. When Rhodes kicks out before Tyrone Little hits the mat, Grimm knows he has far to go.

Before he has a chance to continue, however, Rhodes powers up to his feet. Grimm backs off a step and the two stand-off. The crowd beckons for more, beginning a chant of:

LET’S GO GRIMM!

N - C - M!

LET’S GO GRIMM!

N - C - M!

Al Laiman: Are they saying ‘let’s go’ or ‘let go?’

Jerry Andrews: It could be either one, Al. We know what can happen when Grimm decides to let go.

Al Laiman: It’s scary, Jerry. But Sean Rhodes ain’t no cuddle bear.

As if on cue, Rhodes beats himself in the head with his fists, then raises them and shouts at Grimm to ‘come on!’ Grimm obliges, filing in with a lead leg kick. Rhodes simply takes it and responds to the methodical strike with a massive lariat, sending Grimm matward. Grimm bounces back up but Rhodes tackles him to the ground. They shuffle about until Rhodes ends up in full mounted position. Grimm tries to defend himself but Rhodes forces himself through, dealing devastating damage with full-fisted punches to Grimm’s skull. Tyrone Little begins a count, and the crowd chants along:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!

On the tenth strike Sean Rhodes breaks his mount on the now-dazed Phinehas Grimm, but doesn’t let up. He lifts Grimm to his feet, keeping him at bay with a few brutal gut kicks. He grabs Grimm by the wrist and pulls him in close, hoisting him into the air by the midsection. With Grimm lifted nearly a foot off the ground, Rhodes makes a half-turn and plants Grimm flat on his back with a heavy duty spinebuster! He goes for the cover and Tyrone Little begins the count.

1!

As Grimm kicks out, Rhodes relentlessly buries an elbow into Grimm’s forehead, grinding his forearm across Grimm’s skull. Grimm’s shoulders go down momentarily, but he raises them up before Tyrone Little can start the count. Rhodes forces Grimm back down once more, still trying to shred Grimm’s hairline with hard bone. Tyrone Little signals for Rhodes to release the hold before he has to start a count. Rhodes lets Little get to two and a half before taking his forearm away from Grimm’s head. He gets to his feet, lifting Grimm along with him, and begins to deliver straight, stiff shots to the challenger’s forehead once more.

Jerry Andrews: Sean Rhodes may not be a technical master, but he clearly knows what he’s doing here.

Al Laiman: I can only imagine Grimm’s mind is growing cloudier by the minute, Jerry. Ever had a headache? This would feel like a headache on heroin.

Rhodes is holding Grimm by one shoulder, delivering straight shots with his free right hand. Tyrone Little wants him to stop, but before he can get Rhodes to break away, the damage is done. With the final shot, Grimm stumbles backward, taking repose against the turnbuckle, head buried in his hands. Little is saying something to Rhodes, but Rhodes hardly notices. Instead he stares at his right fist, now more red than his opponent’s fiery beard. It is freshly cloaked in Phinehas Grimm’s blood.

Al Laiman: I think Grimm’s busted open, Jerry!

Grimm raises his gaze to the rafters, still standing in the corner, fresh blood running down his face. It sticks in his hair along with the sweat, it fills his beard, and a crazed look comes across the face of Phinehas Grimm. He turns to face Sean Rhodes, now stalking toward the corner to continue his assault. Rhodes leads with a meaty hook, but Grimm manages to dodge it past the blood in his eyes. Through the smallest of openings, Grimm plants a savate kick to the ribcage of Sean Rhodes. The Hangtown Horror reaches out and grabs Rhodes by the throat, choking him while turning to throw Rhodes into the corner. With Rhodes backed against the turnbuckle, Grimm releases his choke, lets loose a blood-curdling war-cry, and brings both hands around in a full circle to knife-edge chop Sean Rhodes atop his cranium.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm’s bleeding, but he’s not broken.

Al Laiman: He’s like a man possessed!

Grimm seizes Rhodes by the shoulders and begins to deliver headbutt after headbutt, each one somehow more brutal than the last. The blood from Grimm’s busted forehead leaves streaks on Rhodes’s own, until finally the force of the blows split Rhodes himself wide open! Grimm takes two steps back to catch his breath. Rhodes takes one step out, bent over slightly, wiping his own blood from his now busted skull. In a moment of extreme fortitude, Grimm seizes Sean Rhodes around the neck, steps up onto the turnbuckle, and surprises everyone in PCW arena with the Harvest!!

Jerry Andrews: What in the?? How did he??

Al Laiman: Harvest!! Harvest!!

Jesus Del Rio: COSECHA! COSECHA!!

Jerry Andrews: Both men bleeding! Both men down!

Al Laiman: Grimm makes the cover!

1!

...

2!

...

Jerry Andrews: Sean Rhodes kicks out!

Al Laiman: Grimm dug deep and Rhodes dug deeper!

The fans jump to their feet in excitement and jubilation, both because Rhodes kicked out and because this match will continue. Grimm and Rhodes slowly climb to their feet, gaining a vertical base at the same moment. They lock eyes and lock horns once more, throwing another hurried and flurried exchange of punches. Rhodes attempts to seize Grimm around his neck, but Grimm pushes off his arms and snaps a claw hold on the bloody forehead of Non Compos Mentis.

Al Laiman: He might poke his brain, Jerry!

Rhodes grabs Grimm by the wrist, trying to rip free. Grimm refuses to release the hold until Rhodes manages to drive a stiff knee into Grimm’s gut. Rhodes follows up with a few stiff jabs to the jaw and then irish whips his opponent into the ropes. Grimm can’t stop his momentum and so he flies back, blood dripping droplets across the ring. As he meets Rhodes in the center, Rhodes hoists Grimm into the air, turns, catches Grimm in the crook of his arm and delivers a devastating Dum Dum Drop!

Jerry Andrews: The Champion connects with his finishing maneuver!

Al Laiman: Will it be enough to finish Phinehas Grimm?

Rhodes makes the cover, hooking Grimm’s leg. Tyrone Little drops to the mat, checks Grimm’s shoulders and begins the count.

1!

...

2!

...

...

And Grimm kicks out! Once again the fans explode at the display of fortitude from both men. Rhodes can hardly believe it, but recognizes that any hesitation might give Grimm the chance he needs to turn the tides once more. Ignoring the blood pooling in his eyes, he lifts Grimm to his feet and brings him down with a swinging neckbreaker. Instead of going for the pinfall, he brings a flurry of elbow drops down onto the chest, neck, and skull of Grimm. With Grimm down and nearly out, he runs against the ropes and delivers a heavy knee drop to Grimm’s bleeding head.

Jerry Andrews: Rhodes goes for another pinfall, trying to put Grimm away for good.

1!


....


2!


...

And once more Grimm kicks out! Rhodes is frustrated but not surprised by the resilience of Phinehas Grimm, and so looks to continue dealing damage. He lifts the Abomination of Desolation to his feet, planting a few knife-edged chops to his chest. Grimm responds with a few chops of his own, but Non Compos Mentis whips him once more to keep him off balance. He sets for a powerslam as Grimm rebounds, but Grimm leaps at the last second and connects with a flying shoulder block! Rhodes, the bigger man, is rocked to the ground though he’s quick to get up. Grimm, however, sees an opening and begins darting around the ring. Sean Rhodes loses track of his opponent, turning just as Grimm comes off the ropes behind him, leaping and sticking a flying back elbow to the face of Sean Rhodes. Rhodes hits the mat, dazed. He sits up, faced covered in blood, just in time for Grimm to hit the ropes once more. In a split second Sean Rhodes is leveled by a vicious elbow in the form of his own Psychotic Break!

Al Laiman: Grimm just hit the Champion with his own move! The blood’s flying!

Jerry Andrews: Will it be enough to put him down? Grimm makes the pin!

1!

...

2!

...

Sean Rhodes gets his shoulder up! Both men now clearly feel light-headed from loss of blood, and both bleed profusely – the ring is nearly stained a pale red from tape to tape. But they cannot stop. Will not stop. And so they stand. Phinehas Grimm reaches his feet, stumbling slightly, the last moments of exertion raising his heart rate and so his blood flow in turn. His entire face from hair to beard is now bright red. Sean Rhodes makes it to one knee, nearly falling over, before also standing tall. Once more both men face each other as equals, waiting for the moment to make their move. PCW’s Faithful have grown louder than ever, pushing the upper limits of noise and anticipation. They have come this far, and the match must come to a close.


And once more titans clash, a collision course in the center of the PCW ring, with punches and kicks and the determination to be called Champion. Two unrelenting rights from Sean Rhodes. Quick jabs by Phinehas Grimm. Rhodes swings, Grimm ducks. Grimm kicks, Rhodes deflects. Grimm connects with a headbutt. Rhodes returns the favor with one of his own. Grimm reels and Rhodes closes, following through with the Lament Configuration!

Jerry Andrews: What a neckbreaker! Rhodes used Grimm’s own move against him!

Al Laiman: Tit for tat, Jerry. They’re pulling out all the stops here.

Sean Rhodes covers Phinehas Grimm.

1!

...

2!

...

...

...

But once again Phinehas Grimm kicks out!

Though Grimm managed to kick out, he’s barely able to move. The same can be said for Sean Rhodes. Grimm is flat on his back, breathing heavily. Rhodes crawls to the corner, dragging himself to his feet by the ring ropes. Once he manages to stand, he looks to the downed Phinehas Grimm then scans the PCW Faithful. He points to the crowd and then to the sky. He warily scales the turnbuckles, perching himself on the top.

Al Laiman: What’s he thinking? Is he delirious?

Jerry Andrews: Listen to this crowd!! This is clearly what they want!

As Non Compos Mentis stands straight up on the top turnbuckle, the noise of the crowd rises to a fever pitch. He judges the distance through blood-filled eyes and dives!

Al Laiman: AND SEAN RHODES CONNECTS WITH A DIVING HEADBUTT!!

At the moment of impact the crowd erupts once more. The sound is deafening, the cheers reaching all points of the arena. Though the move was intended to incapacitate Grimm, who indeed moves not an inch, Sean Rhodes lies completely still as well. Both men are on their back, which causes Tyrone Little to check each man’s condition in turn. As he realizes the scope of the situation, he has no choice but to begin the count.

Jerry Andrews: Oh my goodness.. It looks like both men are out cold.

Al Laiman: Can you blame them, Jerry? That was the King Kong of blows to the head, and after all the cranial damage they’ve both taken, I’ll be surprised if they’re not dead.

1...

2...

3...

As Tyrone Little begrudgingly begins his slow count, the crowd’s cheers of support suddenly shift. To intense boos.

Jerry Andrews: What’s happening?

4...

5...

Al Laiman: Look up the ramp, Jerry. That’s all the answer you’ll need.

Walking down the ramp is none other than ‘Mr. Showtime’ Michael Wryght, with a sly smirk on his face as he makes his way to ringside. The crowd boo him intensely, not for hatred of Michael Wryght but because he would consider inserting himself at this juncture of the match.

6...

7...

Al Laiman: I know he’s jealous he’s not in the match, but he has no right to be here!

Jerry Andrews: And I’m sure he’d tell you otherwise, Al.

Mr. Showtime reaches the bottom of the ramp, waiting as Tyrone Little warns him off. The referee continues his ten count.

8...

9...

As Showtime understands what’s about to happen, he walks around the ring toward the timekeeper.

10!!

With both men down for a ten count, Tyrone Little has no choice but to signal for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest has been ruled a double-count-out draw!

The bellman makes to hand the belt to Tyrone Little, but before he can do so, Michael Wryght grabs the World Championship.

Jerry Andrews: What’s he doing? That belt belongs to Sean Rhodes!

Al Laiman: Maybe he just wants to touch it, Jerry. To know what it’s like to be so close to the PCW World Title.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, still Pure Class Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion: Sean Rhodes!

The bellman valiantly tries to seize the title back from Michael Wryght, mouthing something inaudible, but before he can do so, Michael Wryght slams him across the head with the belt, knocking him unconscious! Mr. Showtime climbs into the ring. Tyrone Little holds his hand out as if to say ‘give it to me,’ but Showtime once again refuses. He raises the title in a threatening manner as though he’d hit Tyrone Little with it as well. Tyrone Little turns and high-tails it, calling for security.

Sean Rhodes and Phinehas Grimm are both still down, though both men stir slightly. Mr. Showtime struts over to Sean Rhodes, raising the title in the air as he does so. Almost gently, he drapes the title over the chest of Sean Rhodes, looks to Phinehas Grimm, and then stares out into the crowd at PCW’s Faithful

Winner: Draw via Double Count Out



*CLICK*

Overview[/u]
Slam II and Cory Steel def Rikkashot and Othorien Graham via Pinfall
Eira def Q via Pinfall
Alex Roman and Melissa McCool did not officially take place
Andy D def Areas via Pinfall
Justin Kaard and Nacho Grande draw via Referee Stoppage
MONROE def Kaijin Shinryu via KO
High Tide and Jule Martins def Pegasus and Murdoc, Tyrone Smith and El Musculo via Table Finish
Whitey Ford def Ace Anderson, Darren Hughes and Scythe via Pinfall
Rick Majors def Michael Wryght via Count Out
Sean Rhodes and Grimm draw via Double Count Out

© 2012-2013 Pure Class Entertainment Group
All Rights Reserved.

Thanks to Monroe, Ace and Whitey and Murdoc for all their help with writing. It’s VERY much appreciated as always. Also thanks to everybody that submitted segs and everyone who rp’d.[/size][/color]