Trauma 186 Results!

[Eira]

Tuesday, Feb 2nd, 2016

Ace Anderson: WELCOME ladies and gentlemen to this, Trauma 186!

Jerry Andrews: This should be an EXCELLENT show, we've got tons of stuff lined up for you.

Ace Anderson: That we do, and first up is The Disco Stud up against "God's Machine" Nick Black!

Jerry Andrews: I thought you said you hated their names.

Ace Anderson: Not to their faces. Just, you know, pretentious wrestler names... kinda wears on a person, you know?

Jerry Andrews: Well to OPEN this show we have a GLAM SLAM from our new PR guy, Mr. Dan Fierce!

“Glamorous,” by Fergie blasts over the speakers. In step to the music, show girls that look like they're straight from Las Vegas, decked out in pink and gold bikinis, begin parading out from the back, pink and gold feathery crowns and wings spreading, and their long, voluptuous legs kicking as they line the ramp. Here comes DAN FIERCE! The crowd is on their feet! Dan is dressed in a pink shiny suit with matching pink pants and hat. The suit and hat are adorned with gold buttons and accents. He is also wearing a pair of gold sunglasses that look like something Sir Elton John would wear. Blowing kisses to the masses as he strides down to the ring, he climbs the steps and ducks between the ropes. Dan grabs a mic from a tech. The music fades down as he puts the mic to his mouth.



Dan: Ladies and gentlemen welcome Pure Class Wrestling's very first, fabulous edition of the Glam Slam!



Dan strikes a pose with a hand on his hip and the other in the air. The confetti canons go off on all four corners, showering the ring and ringside with golden confetti. The crowd is shaking the rafters for the veteran's first appearance in a PCW broadcast!



Dan: Wow! What a welcome!



Dan soaks in the adoring crowd, producing a hanky, and dabbing gently at the corners of his mascara and guy-liner. Finally, the adulation dies down enough that he can speak.



Dan: I'm not going to lie. There are millions of reasons I came back to wrestling. And they're all right there! And there! And... Hell, all over the place!



Dan motions to the entire arena, drawing another round of accolades. Again, Dan appreciates his welcome wagon.



Dan: As much as I hate to admit it, though, tonight isn't about my comeback. I had to think long and hard...



An almost uniform laughter emanates from the crowd. Dan shows his trademark grin, shaking his head softly.



Dan: Get your minds out of the gutters.



The peanut gallery cheers happily in response.



Dan: I had to think quite a while about just who my first guest should be. Then I was approached by this young man. After he told me his story, I knew that he had to be the one to break my cherry. My guest this evening has reinvented himself several times to cope with the hurdles life has thrown at him. This time is no different. He is returning from some pretty horrific circumstances, but he's coming back strong! Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome to PCW's inaugural Glam Slam... Cory "Jury" Steel.

A school bell rings. Followed by stomping and clapping when, "Heaven Knows" by Pretty Reckless, hits over the pa-system. Cory comes emerging from darkness with a calm collect manner written on his face. The big man is sporting a pure black Armani suit, a pin of the American flag on his lapel, and a rainbow colored tie for effect. Cory nods to the masses as they give him a mixed reaction but none are as startled as Cory when his own cannons of glitter and confetti blast off halfway down the ramp! He laughs it off and continues down the ramp until he can roll into the ring where he bounces up giving the host a big bear hug! Dan looks pleasantly shocked at the gesture, taking time to compose himself as he's put back on the mat.



Dan: Well... You certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Daddy Bear.



Jury smiles, shaking his head as the crowd approves. Dan hands Jury a microphone with a nod and a grin.



Dan: Whew! Well... Welcome to the Glam Slam, and more importantly, welcome BACK to PCW!



Jury: Thank you, Mr. Fierce, for having me as your first guest. It's a huge honor.



Dan: Daddy Bear, after THAT greeting, I think you can call me Dan. We're way past the formal.



Dan finishes regaining his composure before a more serious look overtakes his face.



Dan: I know this is going to be a difficult topic, so let's talk about the elephant in the room, so to speak, and get it out of the way.



Jury purses his lips, knowing what's coming next, nodding to Dan to go ahead.



Dan: You've recently suffered a tragic loss, one that shook the Faithful as well, when your brother suddenly passed away. How have you been holding up?



Jury's eyes well up a bit, raising the mic, then dropping it a few times as he stumbles for the words to express his feelings. Finally, he resolves himself and speaks.



Jury: I've been holding on okay, you know coming out here was hard. Entering this building alone tonight was hard but when I get in the ring later, it'll either break me or make me. I also can't thank the company enough for helping Judge's wife and kids like that have, they helped pay for his burial and that's more than anyone can ask. The letters and emails from our PCW Faithful have also helped comfort me, the memories he created for them that they can share with the family and me are priceless. To those who want answers, the fans, and my club The Saints, just know what the law don't have the balls to do I will! Nathan Saniti will not escape Jury's justice!



Dan raises an eyebrow at the accusation cast at the Mystical Magician.



Dan: So, you're blaming Nathan Saniti for your brother's death, even though the coroner and the investigation has dictated otherwise?



Without hesitation, Jury's face morphs into one of controlled rage.



Jury: Think for a minute Dan, like I did, what do people think about us bikers? Trash? Heathens? Mindless drug addicts? That's the consensus I get outside these walls, and I believe they did a half-assed job because my brother is just one more trailer park trash gone, and they think that makes the world a little safer. Justice by the law is feeble and biased, but Jury Justice is strong and unforgiving.



Dan: Let's switch the subject a bit. I can tell you feel strongly about your convictions, but what about your future here in PCW? A lot of people are saying that you are the one to watch here, that you are going to make an even bigger name for yourself in 2016. Beyond the thing with Nathan Saniti, what do you have in store for the future, Daddy Bear?



Jury: When I first came here, I was a untalented green horn. I didn't get a lot of credit. Since then, PCW has given me intense training and I've grown, surprised a lot of people. I can only go up from here and with the new year, I plan on raising as much Hell as Godly possible! Those who sit in the Underground division can't sit around no more! Why? Because I'm lurking just in the shadows! My plans are to take it back and return violence to the more blood thirsty fans.



The fans greet this proclamation with a mixture of cheers and worry. Jury has fire in his eyes, a serious demeanor, and an air of danger that even takes Dan back a bit. Dan allows the reaction die down, straightening himself up.



Dan: Well, it's been wonderful having you as my guest, Jury. We look forward to seeing what you bring to the table, Sweetie.



Jury: In three months have me back here Dan, because I'll bring you a bucket of Nathan's blood as well as the shiny Underground title!



Dan grows wide-eyed at the thought of a bucket of someone's blood, but remains calm-ish, extending his hand to send off his guest. Once again, he's taken by a surprising hug, this one a bit more thankful and gentle than the first, yet still firm and sincere. Jury sets the host back on the ground, nodding appreciatively as he exits, leaving a happy and wondering Dan in his wake.

Match One
Underground Match
The Disco Stud vs "God's Machine" Nick Black
Referee: Ed Lane

"Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer funks up the airwaves. Soon enough, a tall, lanky, yet muscled white man decked out in 1970's retro clothes pops through the curtain. A rhinestoned white leisure suit with wide lapels and the shirt only half buttoned, zebra striped bell bottoms, and white patent leather platform shoes wrap the Disco Stud in the bygone vibe enough, but the "Saturday Night Fever" pose at the top of the ramp as multi-colored smoke shadows the runway are just the icing on the cake. The newcomer struts his stuff, giving the fans plenty of skin as he strolls (the dance, not the walk) his way to the ring. He steps between the ropes, removing his jacket and shirt. Many females in the peanut gallery swoon their approval.

Ace Anderson: Well this... this is new.

Jerry Andrews: This is FUN!

Ace Anderson: You didn't...

Jerry Andrews: Of course not. Polyester doesn't breathe well enough for proper dancing.

The house lights dim to almost black as the opening chords to "When Worlds Collide" begin over the PA system. As Spider 1 begins his lyrics, Nick Black emerges onto the stage, soaking up the disapproval from the smattering of fans that recognize him, an arrogant smirk on his face as he looks into the ring. Eventually he begins a slow walk to the ring, where he climbs the steps and ducks under the ropes. Paying no attention to the audience, God's Machine climbs one of the far turnbuckles and sits, basking in the hate.

Ed Lane call both men to the center of the ring for last minute instructions. Disco is still grooving to music only he can hear as he nods to the ref's words. Nick Black sneers at his opponent, mouthing the word "Pathetic." Lane tells them to separate so he can ring the bell. Black feigns compliance, but does a quick about face, drumming Disco with a European forearm, driving the slightly taller man backwards.

There's the bell! Looking for a quick advantage, Black whips the Studly One across the ring, hammering him with a flying clothesline on the rebound. God's Machine grabs a fistful of Wella-infused locks to yank him to him feet, but it proves to be a bit too much product for a firm grip. Disco slips free, smashing Black square in the honker with a right hook, then a left hook, then he rolls it up, gyrates his hips and finishes the series with bending down to slap the mat before standing straight up, connecting with an uppercut, knocking Black clean off his feet.

Disco gathers his opponent, slinging him into the ropes and catching him on the bounce with a swinging side slam. Allowing no room for Black to catch his breath, Disco Stud pulls God's Machine to his feet. Stud starts to send Black to the ropes again, but Nick puts on the brakes. Thinking quickly, Black goes for a roundhouse kick, but Disco is just too funky fresh, doing the splits, ducking under the devastating maneuver.

As Disco powers to a vertical base, Nick runs the ropes for a lariat. NO! Disco caught him in a full nelson! Good Times! Disco shakes Black, adding pressure to the hold. God's Machine is breaking down! Ed Lane gets in there to check Black as he fades. He picks up the arm, letting it fall once. Stud keeps up the pressure as the zebra lets his opponent's arm fall for the second time. Finally, the ref sees the arm fall for the third time and calls for the bell.

Winner: The Disco Stud via Submission

Match Two
Underground Match
Jury vs =Q=
Referee: Ty Little

The arena turns red and black with the crowd growing into cheers, the bells of the song ring, and "Heaven Knows" by The Pretty Reckless plays! Jury at a brisk pace emerges from the back stoic and calm written on his face. His gray eyes scan the crowd for a few seconds as he stops halfway down the ramp, he then marches on.

Ace Anderson: A roller coaster ride for this man over the past few weeks, Jerry. There’s no doubt that he’s itching, chomping at the bit to step in the ring and dish out some sweet, sweet violence.

Jerry Andrews: Yeeeeeeah. And his opponent, Q, isn’t one who’s known for his prowess in the Underground. Q was a big name in the Genesis division, the pre-cursor to the Underground, but so far has looked less than impressive upon his return.

Ace Anderson: I don’t think Q could really hurt ANYONE, Jerry. Not even a fly, if last week was any indication.

Sliding head first into the ring, the quiet demeanor fades away ... replaced by adrenaline. Jury begins to jump from leg to leg loosening up before he brings the fight to the Single Letter Superstar. The Pretty Reckless slowly fades over time and is replaced by some pretty odd mechanical sounds. Banging. Beeping. A nice WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRR sound. WOOSH!

KSSSSSSSSH. The doors open and ...

... out rolls the FUNK. Q steps out as 'Super Soul Fighter' by Lenny Kravitz starts, the crowd getting into that fresh, tasty jam. He's smiling and bobbing his head as he walks to the ring in step with the beat. Slapping hands. Kissing babies. Showing off signs dedicated to him, or anything he thinks is creative or noteworthy. The lights pulsate in multi-colored hues. the music kicking into full swing as he finishes his walk to the ringside area.

Jerry Andrews: So Q is making his second appearance in an Underground division match, and boy oh boy did he draw an unlucky match-up. Jury is one of the premier names of the Underground so it may not be much easier for Q this time around.

Ace Anderson: At least now, he has a better idea of what’s expected of him and what it’s going to take to come away with a victory tonight. And that makes Q just a little more dangerous on top of everything else.

As he enters the ring, he catapults himself over the top rope and rolls in, sprinting towards the hard camera and getting RIGHT in its' focus, shaking it and directing it out to the crowd in attendance ... who are engaging in a party as he waits to start. He’s smiling and nodding as the crowd is really getting into it. A sight for sore eyes, he is.

As Q levels his gaze upon Jury, the referee hasn’t even had the chance to ring the bell before Q begins to walk with a purpose towards Jury. Jury not one to back down from an oncoming threat, he strides in response towards the center of the ring where the two men meet eye to eye ... nose to nose. Jury not really saying much but nodding with some serious ill-intentions on his mind, Q nods and ... without breaking eye contact ... lifts a hand and raises it towards Jury in an expression of understanding and respect.

Jury breaking his gaze for only the briefest of seconds, he takes the hand and shakes it. Q smiles and nods before backing away to give the man his space and to prepare for the match itself. The referee looking on, he looks to both competitors and gets their approval before signaling for the bell to ring ...

DING DING DING!

... and the match is underway!

Q clapping his hands as he begins to circle the ring, the crowd follows suit with Jury following the idea. Both men circling each other, a sudden collar-and-elbow tie-up has Jury getting the quick upper-hand on Q ... forcing him back into one of the nearby corners. Q releases the tie-up, but with there being no disqualifications, the referee does nothing to back Jury off. Jury muscling his way into Q’s guard, jockeying for a better position ... it’s Q who surprises by dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms behind Jury’s legs. Buckling the larger man’s knees, he pulls him forward into the cornerpost. Jury’s head smacking against the turnbuckle, he staggers back from the change in momentum and Q is on the attack.

A quick dash and .... WHUD. Q is caught with a heavy clothesline that lays him flat on the mat. Sputtering for breath, Q begins to slowly crawl to his feet ... but would you look at that? Jury’s such a nice fella; there to help Q get to his feet with two bunches of hair clenched tightly in his fists. As Q is stood up, he explodes outwards and breaks the hold that Jury has on his hair. Q on the offense, he pushes Jury back away from him .... giving him enough space to bounce off the ropes opposite. Jury recovers quick enough to sidestep the oncoming Q and whips him into the ropes again. The speed picking up with each step, Q hops into the air and lets his momentum carry him feet-first into Jury’s chest.

The shotgun kick sending Jury flying across the ring, the crowd oooh’s as he hits the ground with a thud.

Ace Anderson: Q with a double foot dropkick straight to the chest of Jury; that’s ONE way to do it. But did you ever think Q would be the one to do it?!

Jerry Andrews: I think that actually might be one of the first offensive ATTACKS that Q has ever done! And man, was it effective.

Q kicking up quickly to his feet, Jury is the one now who is returning to his feet a little bit worse for the wear. As Jury returns to his feet, he looks across to find Q simply staring at him. Almost as if to say ‘Yeah. You’re not the only one who can throw some bombs.’ Jury slapping his chest where Q kicked him, Jury takes off across the ring to get hold of Q. Q, for all his intelligence, realizes he may have just made the big man mad and takes off at full speed ... avoiding any kind of contact with Jury. An almost comical sight of Jury chasing Q, Q dives headfirst out of the ring and rolls once he hits to negate any of the impact he would take as he hits the ground.

Jury following him out of the ring, Q doesn’t run any further and stands his ground with Jury. A drop toe hold and Jury’s face smacks the padded concrete with a THUD. Q over top of Jury, he quickly moves away. Having put down Jury, it’s readily apparent that Q is not interested in a knockout shot. He’s playing under the thought that the more a big man goes down, the harder it is for him to get up each time after. Jury staggering to his feet, Q attempts a Heaven and Earth throw, but Jury is just a little bit quicker than Q and stops Q dead in his tracks with a spinebuster. The air driven from Q’s lungs, he’s left laying as Jury begins to drag him towards the ringside stairs.

Jerry Andrews: Q may find himself in some serious trouble here; he’s having trouble overcoming Jury’s strength and power. Jury just seems WAYYYYYYYYYY too focused for Q right now. He’s done well, but Jury just isn’t having any of it.

Ace Anderson: Q made some great headway, but maybe it just isn’t his type of fight. He really is a fish out of water in Underground fights.

Jury dragging Q up onto the steps, stretching him out across them as he begins to forage under the ring itself. Returning to full view, he’s found a new friend: a Singapore Cane. Holding it aloft for the crowd to see, everyone cranes their necks to see what’s coming next. Rearing back, Jury lands a savage blow to Q’s ribs. Instantly, the formerly dead Q pops up like a comical Jack in the Box and begins to VERY quickly leave the area where Jury is. He wants nothing more of what Jury has in store.

Moving to the nearest corner post, Jury follows in pursuit of his prey and takes a swing! Q moves around the cornerpost and wraps an elbow around the end of the cane, holding it in place. Cory struggling to reverse the grip that Q has on the cane, the leverage is too much to break the cane free. Q leaning forward into the space underneath the turnbuckles, his cheeks puff out and ... POISON MIST!

The neon green mist exploding in all directions, Jury is caught in the nucleus of the mist and catches a face full of the drippy stuff. Releasing hold of the cane, Q does the same as Jury moves away from the area ... desperately clawing at his eyes to clear his vision. Q looking around, he smiles and takes off around the corner at full speed. Jury locked directly in his sights as he rounds the corner, he’s at full tilt as he blasts Jury with a QFT. That vicious, out-of-nowhere Pounce that sends Jury and Q both flying. Jury crumpling underneath the Single Letter Superstar, he’s laid out as Q falls on Jury for a quick pinfall attempt. Ty Little quick to slide out of the ring to make the cover, Q has both legs hooked!

1!

2!

3!

Winner: Q via Pinfall

The bell rings and Q clutches at his ribcage. He may have squeaked this one out, but however the case may be ... a win is a win is a win. And Q has proven that maybe, just maybe, he may be able to adapt to this new environment. Isn’t that what he’s all about anyways? The referee helping him to his feet, Q raises his right hand into the air ... left arm cradling his ribs from that vicious little cane shot. The crowd is roaring and has come alive, the next match will have some serious audience investment. What a way to keep the energy flowing!

Match Three
Underground Match
Hiroshi Yukio (Underground ©) vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
Referee: Manny Cruz

The crowd looks to the entrance way as 'Sumo' roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage. The faithful start cheering loudly, almost drowning out the music.

Underground Champion, Hiroshi Yukuo, steps through the curtain with his face lit up with a smile. He walks slowly down the ramp as the cheering intensifies, the PCW faithful not holding back for the mountain man from Japan. Yukio waves to the crowd as he walks and when he sees a kid at ringside and holds up his sign and takes a selfie with him.

Jerry Andrews: The ex-sumo certainly has the crowd on his side and he's given that Underground title a whole new lease of life with his... unconventional approach.

Ace Anderson: For a championship based in the realm of Hardcore, Hiroshi refuses to use any weapons. I don't know how wise that is but he's holding that title and that means it's working.

As he continues to walk down to the ring the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the cheering. He goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope into the ring. After he does he does a purification ritual by throwing salt in the ring to cleanse it before the match.

The music and chants fade out as Hiroshi stays in the ring waiting for his opponent. After waiting for a few moments the lights flicker and fade out as the pulsating beats of Dope Star Inc's "10000 Watts of Artificial Pleasure" pops on the PA system.

Smoke fills the stage as a figure stands in the middle of it. All the sudden, Crazy Boy comes out of the smoke and pumps a fist in the air with the crowd going crazy. From his actions, though, CB is clearly still suffering from Alexa Black's vicious beating at Trauma 185.

Jerry Andrews: This is certainly a match between two incredible fan favourites and should be an exciting prospect.

Ace Anderson: It should be for Crazy Boy, with a win he could put himself first in line for an Underground title shot in the future. But after Alexa put a brutal end to their rivalry he's going to need all his pluckiness to beat the Underground Champion.

He walks down the entryway and is about to climb into the ring when he halts in front of the apron. The crowd erupts as Crazy Boy lifts the apron and pulls out two kendo sticks before throwing them into the ring, and then yanking an aluminium trash can lid from underneath the ring too.

Ace Anderson: Yukio might not be a fan of weapons but Crazy Boy definitely is!

Tyrone Smith slides into the ring and referee Manny Cruz knows the score, calling for the bell to begin the match before all hell breaks loose. Yukio braces himself as the rapid Smith gets to his feet and charges with trash can lid in hand...

CRACK! The lid smashes over Yukio's head, crumpling into the indented shape of the sumo's skull... but Yukio hasn't budged an inch. Standing 4 inches higher and weighing double that of Crazy Boy, Hiroshi remains an immovable obelisk of Japanese steel. Smith stares at the shredded piece of metal in his hands before throwing it aside.

Smith is shocked at how little the hit hurt Yukio after he put his all behind it, being pretty obvious that his all isn't what it was before Alexa ended their feud in brutal fashion. He clenches his fists and throws punches at Yukio, with left after right after left hitting home and barely moving the imposing figure. Pulling back, Smith hits the ropes and throws a running forearm but still cannot move Yukio.

Jerry Andrews: Crazy Boy's throwing everything at Yukio but he can't move him one bit!

Ace Anderson: On his day Smith can give anyone a close match, but he looks drained out there. Alexa certainly did a number on him.

Smith winds up another forearm and throws himself into it... but Yukio has seen enough and lunges forward with a predatory burst of speed, slamming his massive arm into Crazy Boy with a powerful Palm Thrust. Smith collapses holding his chest but Yukio pulls him back up and pummels the much smaller man into the corner with a succession of sumo palm strikes. With his opponent stunned and overwhelmed, Yukio attacks with stiff strong-style kicks to the ribs and midsection. Slowly, kick by kick, Smith slumps into the corner.

Jerry Andrews: He's a sitting duck in there!

Yukio retreats across the ring to the opposite corner and pushes off with a burst of momentum. He throws his body across the ring and into the corner with a Hip Attack... but nobody's home! Crazy Boy slides under the bottom rope to the apron and watches as Yukio rebounds out of the corner. As quickly as he can, Smith climbs up the corner and takes flight with a Missile Dropkick that sends Yukio stumbling back into the ropes but not off his feet.

Ace Anderson: Not sitting, he's a flying duck! But still not enough to put Yukio down!

Getting increasingly desperate, Smith gets to his feet and moves straight for the two kendo sticks lying on the mat. Yukio moves forward, trying to force Crazy Boy against the ropes but the former 2 time North American champion attacks with his weapons in stereo. The kendo sticks slam into Hiroshi's legs in rapid succession, succeeding in holding the giant at bay. The attack continues until CB finally changes focus from the legs to his arms and chest. The barrage barely moves Yukio but he seems stunned into place by the kendo shots.

Jerry Andrews: I think Yukio's starting to get worn down.

Ace Anderson: Either that or he's distracted thinking about dinner...

Hiroshi seems to teeter for a moment and CB takes it as a sign to go for a killing blow. He drops one of the canes and climbs out onto the apron. With the single cane in hand Smith climbs the turnbuckles and takes aim on the wavering sumo. Smith launches himself high into the air and brings the kendo stick straight down on Yukio's cranium, snapping the cane into two with the force of the shot!

Jerry Andrews: And Yukio's finally down to a knee!

Ace Anderson: A few hundred more kendo sticks and he might just stay down.

As if he heard Anderson, Smith throws his busted weapon aside and grabs the second kendo stick. Again he goes to the corner and climbs, readying the weapon before throwing himself off the top and lifting the cane above his head. As he plummets through the air Hiroshi suddenly springs into life and slams his giant skull into Crazy Boy's sternum with the Osaka Overdrive! Smith collapses in a heap on the mat while Yukio stares down at him with a blank look of bemusement and rubs his head.

Jerry Andrews: That's one solid noggin!

Ace Anderson: Nearly as thick as yours, Andrews.

Yukio grabs Smith with one arm and drags him into the centre of the ring before using his uncanny quickness to hit the ropes. He rebounds and wastes no time in jumping and throwing his hefty legs forward, crushing Crazy Boy underneath his massive frame with a running Senton across the chest. The PCW Faithful let out a collective gasp of sympathetic pain but Yukio isn't done yet. He again drags Smith by the arm toward the corner and begins to climb.

Ace Anderson: Someone get to catering, we're gonna need a spatula to get Crazy Boy out of the ring after this!

The sumo lifts his enormous body to the second rope and takes aim. Yukio bounces once... twice... and drops the full weight of his posterior onto the chest of his opponent with a ring-shaking Mount Fuji Drop! Manny Cruz moves into position and makes the count...

One!
Two!
THREE!

Winner: Hiroshi Yukio via Pinfall

Jerry Andrews: Yukio picks up the win! Crazy Boy threw everything at the Underground Champion but he clearly wasn't at 100% out there tonight.

Ace Anderson: Tyrone's one of the more tenacious SOB's I've seen in PCW but he came up against an immovable object tonight. I don't know who's going to be able to take that title off Yukio.


'Sumo' by Jim Johnston hits over the PA system as Manny Cruz lifts Hiroshi Yukio's arm and hands over his Underground Title before checking on Crazy Boy - but Hiroshi shakes his big head slowly, refusing his belt!

Jerry Andrews: What?

Ace Anderson: What's he doing?

The sumo asks for a mic and one is passed to him through the ropes and he looks sadly out at the many faces in the crowd who are still cheering for him, noises of confusion filtering through the happy chanting of the Faithful as his silence continues.

Hiroshi! Hiroshi! Hiroshi!

The crowd chant as one loud and proud to show their respect.

Ace Anderson: Would you listen to this crowd? They don't even know what's going on, but to the Faithful that doesn't matter he is always going to be loved by them no matter what.

Sumo Power! *clap clap clap*
Sumo Power! *clap clap clap*

Jerry Andrews: It says something about his charisma he has that our fans have taken to him so much in the short time he's been here.

Hiroshi raises the mic to his lips and begins to speak his deep boom reverberates throughout the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of PCW. Thank you all for the warmth and kindness you have shown me since I arrived here. It has truly touched me deeply. Unfortunately this will have to be my last match for a while as I have to take some time to heal my body from this injury

I will be gone a long while but I assure you I won't be gone forever, I will be back bigger stronger faster and more determined than ever to give you the fans exactly what you pay for!

And so I must say....."

But before he can finish his sentence the lights cut out and the arena is once again thrown into darkness.

Ace Anderson: Oh not again! We need to get an electrician in here seriously! This is ridiculous. I can't see a God damn thing here!

Jerry Andrews: I don't like this Ace, not one bit.

The lights come back on and on side of the ring is Alexa Black and on the other two sides are both of the Shaw brothers. They surround him like a pack of wolves looking to go in for the kill.

Alexa gives the signal and all three rush him and start absolutely wailing on him with kicks punches and clubbing blows. Alexa backs up and gets a run up before nailing a chop block that fells the big sumo to the ground .

Ace Anderson: This is disgusting! It's 3 on 1 and the guy they are mauling is already injured. What evil scum these three are !

They continue to stomp away at the sumo who is now down and defenceless against the onslaught of their attack.

Jerry Andrews: Somebody has got to stop this!

Ace Anderson: Who in their right mind would try to do that Jerry? They would just end up getting wasted as well

Alexander and Frederick hold the big man down as Alex retrieves a steel chair from outside the ring and slides it in then follows it with 4 more.

All three pick up a chair and start slamming them into every inch of the sumo that they can as hard as they can. Each crack sickening and louder than the last.

She and her henchman set up the chairs in a folded out position all facing each other in two rows before ordering her boys to pick up the big man and lift him up high.

Ace Anderson: Oh god no! They're going to destroy him!

Jerry Andrews: This is horrible!

Alexa smiles as all three of them bring him down hard with a Powerbomb onto the steel chairs
crushing them beneath the weight of the sumo who lies motionless in a pile of broken chairs.

The PCW faithful boo violently and Alexa just laughs as she sees all the angry faces and numerous kids crying into their Hiroshi T-shirts at ringside.

Alexa pics up the mic and starts to speak:

"PCW take note. No one is safe from us no matter who you are or where you are. Cross me and you will end up just this fat piece of trash you see lying here before you! This is only the first of many casualties in my war against PCW. Tonight three have fallen and soon the next victim will be chosen."

She drops the mic and leaves the ring with the Shaw brothers as the crowd continues to boo and berate her all the way up the ramp to the back.

Match Four
Non-Title Tag Team Match
The East Sutcliffe Gentleman's Club vs Psychedelica (Tag Team ©)
Referee: Charles Lim

The lights dim and with little fanfare, out walks Reginald Emsworth, head of the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen’s Club. Spectacularly attired in a business suit, walking cane in hand. Standing mid-stage, he nods a bit as he looks over the crowd and motions behind him. Out come Miles Prescott III and Lewis Hayden, covered in simple black robes. No hood, just the robes draped over their shoulder and tied loosely around the neck. The men flanking Emsworth, the trio begin the long march to the ring. Confident but not arrogant, not exactly dismissive of the fans but certainly not pandering to them either. All business. Both men reaching the ringside stairs, they ascend and wipe their feet on the mat before entering the ring. As they make their way front and center, Emsworth follows in right behind them and proceeds to assist the men in removing their robes. Each of the men taking turns to shake Emsworth’s hand, he exits the ring with the robes and places them in the nearby corner as the two begin to warm up for the match to come.

"Madness," by Muse livens up the speakers as multi-colored lights of pink, lime green, and purple dance all around the stage. Nathan Saniti is the first to pop from behind the curtain, receiving a mixed reaction from the crowd. He extends his elbow blindly as he smirks his discontent at the audience. Within seconds, a petite arm joins his and the crowd's tune changes to one of adulation as "Dollface" Kelli Starr saunters up to her man. The pair stop at the pinnacle of the ramp and begin to waltz their way down to the ring. As PCW's premiere couple reach the ring, Nathan assists Kelli up the steps and through the ropes.

The duo of the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club all keep a respectable distance, applauding the pair in appreciation of their entrance, their manager echoing their sentiment from outside the ring. Hayden offers his hand to Saniti, who takes it graciously, giving it a hearty grip. He then exchanges the greeting with Prescott. But things go a bit awry as Hayden offers his hand to Kelli, kissing the back of her hand instead of the gentlemanly greeting. Nathan's eyes immediately darken as he darts at Hayden with the fury of jealous lover.

Jerry Andrews: Oh my. It appears that Saniti shan't have another gentleman woo his betrothed.

Ace Anderson: Stop talking like that.

Charles Lim manages to get between the two combatants before Nathan could connect. Hayden looks shocked at the reaction he enabled. The Gentlemen go to their corner, a wary eye on the fuming Saniti. Nathan refuses to exit the ring, insisting that he be the one to lead off in the match. Kelli eventually concedes, exiting for their corner. Saniti places his hat atop the ring post, but before he can turn to start the match, Kelli grabs his arm, motioning for him to turn something over to her. He looks appalled at the accusation, displaying completely empty hands to his beloved. Still, she persists. His shoulders sinking, Saniti sighs deeply, finally turning over three hatpins as he glares at Hayden, the Gentlemen's starter.

Ace Anderson: I think Hayden should watch his step. He's already set Saniti off the deep end.

Jerry Andrews: I say! That's dirty pool, old boy.

Ace covers his face with one hand, bowing his head.

Ace Anderson: Make it stop.

Lewis Hayden postures in the center of the ring, his fists raised in front of him. Nathan sees the defensive stance and stomps unflinchingly toward Hayden. Hayden throws a few jabs at Saniti, who deftly dodges and ducks the dukes. Lim shuffles between the two adversaries to separate them. Once he manages to gain some distance between the men, he calls for the bell to start the match.

Saniti squares up against Hayden, going in for a tie-up, but the pugilist sidesteps him, locking the Mystical Madman's right arm in a chicken wing behind him. Hayden adds pressure as Saniti throws a few whiffing left elbows to get the scrapper to loosen his grip. Finally, one last attempt connects, dazing Hayden just enough for Nathan to reverse the hold. Hayden reverses the reversal, and Saniti is quick to return the favor, adding a terse slap to the back of the newcomer's head before releasing the hold. Lewis spins, his temper flaring and fists at the ready.

Saniti smirks at the bit of retribution for Hayden's earlier trespasses on Kelli. The men size each other up again, Nathan once more returning to the well for a tie-up, but Hayden ducks under, locking in a waistlock, before hefting Nathan up, around, and flat on his back. Lewis drops a leg across Nathan's chest, grappling a leg in the process. AS he stands, he turns the Mad Magician over onto his stomach with a half Boston crab. Hayden add a bit of pressure as he slowly drags Saniti to the Gentlemen's corner, tagging in Prescott.

Jerry Andrews: Right-o! Here comes the other bruiser!

Ace Anderson: I'm seriously going to beat you with your own limbs if you don't STAHP!

Miles takes control of Nathan's limb from Hayden as he exits. Prescott launches Saniti with a leg throw from the corner, maintaining his grasp, sending the tag champ face first unceremoniously closer to the center of the ring. Prescott grapevines the leg and Saniti's head, wrenching back on both until he can clasp his hands. The magician wails in agony. Lim drops down to see if Nathan wants to concede.

Ace Anderson: The new guys are really taking it to the champs tonight.

Jerry Andrews: It's all in good sp-

Ace grabs Jerry by the lips.

Ace Anderson: I. Will. Put. Superglue. In. Your. Coffee.

Ace releases an astonished and hurt Jerry, but Prescott maintains his own torture of Saniti. No matter the effort, Nathan refuses to give up. Using the brief seconds between the pugilist's reaffirming his grip, Nathan inches towards the rope. Seconds of agony become minutes as he struggles to gain proximity to the cable's saving graces. Eventually, he manages to find the prize with his fingertips and clamp down. The zebra advises Prescott to release the hold, which the man promptly obeys.

Miles, growing a tad impatient as his opponent catches his breath, reaches down to gather Saniti to his feet. The Mystical Madman uses the opportunity to scoot between Prescott's legs. Kelli cheers him on, her hand outstretched for the tag. Prescott heads off Saniti, snagging the leg once again. This time, Nathan rapidly pulls his leg in, bringing his foe in with it, before send him flying with a mighty double kick. Nathan crawl ever closer to the tag, Miles quickly removing the sudden distance. He's too late! Here comes Dollface!

Prescott throws his hands up, backing away rapidly as Kelli launches a flurry of kicks and punches to cover Nathan as he wilts out of the ring. Miles peers at his manager awkwardly, unsure whether or not to even engage a woman in battle. Emsworth ponders the situation, eventually giving his Gentlemen the go-ahead to carry on with the match. Prescott shrugs his shoulders, turning to face Starr, but gets an unwelcome chance to kiss Kelli's feet from a dropkick. Miles staggers backwards, rebounding off of the ropes. Starr greets his return with a drop toe hold, introducing the Gentleman painfully to the mat.

The crowd rallies behind the candy-haired girl as she builds a head of steam off the ropes, landing a seated senton to the small of Miles' back. Nathan is back up and cheering her on. Prescott flops over onto his back as Kelli scales the second turnbuckle, dropping an elbow to the sternum. Miles winces in pain, clutching his chest. Starr climbs the turnbuckles again, but Miles rolls out of the way before she launches a second attack.

"Black Widow," by In This Moment shatters the atmosphere, pulling Kelli's gaze to the entrance. A few seconds of the theme plays, but no Alexa Black. Kelli smirks, shaking her head indifferently. As she does an about face, Prescott daintily wraps his arms around her waist. Before he can get a good purchase, Nathan speeds into the ring, clubbing Miles in the back of the head with a forearm. Saniti scrambles out of the ring as the collective heap of Starr and Prescott tries to untangle itself. Kelli glares at Nathan for his interference, but takes the opportunity to yank Miles to the center of the ring for some serious Dubstepping.

The worn out Gentleman finds himself being pulled into enemy territory as Kelli hits the tag. Nathan leaps over the top rope, burying both feet hard into Prescott's chest. Kelli barely gets both feet back outside before Nathan tags her back in, instructing her to go to the top. Holding Miles in place, Nathan nods to Kelli. She leaps high into the air, landing both knees atop the ribcage of the punished Prescott. Kelli returns the tag. Nathan steps in, as PCW's power couple begins to waltz all over every inch of their opponent. Lim reaches the four count as Starr clamors to exit before they are disqualified.

Saniti pulls his prey to his feet and back down again with a nasty looking power slam.

"Black Widow" begins playing again, causing Nathan's eyes to darken and grim morph into a grimace of hate. Leaving his foe behind, he studies the ramp for signs of life, but no one appears. In the confusion, Prescott, takes the time to tag in his partner. Hayden cautiously enters the ring as if deciding just what to do next, since his adversary's back is turned.

Finally, the Shaw Brothers, the men who had earlier helped Alexa injure the Underground champion not a few short minutes earlier. They taunt the tag champs, keeping their distance. Both Kelli and Nathan beg the newcomers to come down to the ring.

Jerry Andrews: Wait... Who's climbing out from under the ring?

Ace Anderson: It's Alexa Black!

Just as Alexa jumps up on the ring apron long enough to knock Kelli to the ground, an unaware Hayden rolls the distracted Nathan up in a small package. Alexa's two goons rush the ring to join in on the vicious beatdown. Lim drops for the count.

One!

Two!

Three!

Lim calls for the bell!

Winners: The East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club!

Hayden releases the hold to celebrate, but an irate Nathan explodes away from him in an effort to stop the assault on Kelli. He slides out of the ring, only to be met by the Shaw Brothers. They kick and beat him mercilessly as Kelli is getting thrummed by Alexa Black. The Brothers manage to assail Nathan into near helplessness, holding his head up, forcing him to watch as Alexa continues her own mugging.

The Angry Amazon lifts Kelli above her head, bringing her down back first on the steel ring steps. Starr yowls in agony as Alexa screeches sadistically at her, mocking her pain. An almost serene moment of clarity hits Alexa's eyes as she eyes one of the cameraman's cables, a Cheshire grin widening across her face. Without hesitation, Black wraps the cord around Kelli's windpipe, hauling her up to her feet and onto her back. Pain changes to panic as Dollface struggles for air, unable to even scream for help.

Meanwhile, Nathan struggles to free himself from his captors' grasp, met each time with more cruel punches and kicks, keeping his outbursts of energy barely halted through his fits adrenaline-infused strength.

Alexa continues to tease Kelli with redemption from her beating by allowing her to reach the ground long enough to think she'll be able to breathe before wrenching her aloft again. Within a few minutes, Starr's complexion begins to blue as the fight leaves her body, her arms draping limp to her sides.

Suddenly, "Through This Pain (You Heal)," by Faderhead pops over the loud speakers as NCM rushes the ring.

Ace Anderson: Looks like Mentis has seen enough.

Jerry Andrews: It's about time someone stopped that crazy woman.

The Shaw Brothers drop Nathan, and Alexa releases Kelli's lifeless body, but NCM manages to get in a few good licks before the Amazon retreats into the crowd alongside her cronies. Mentis drops to a knee next to Kelli, signaling for the paramedics. Saniti stretches out a hand to his beloved, letting out a blood curdling lament. As he does, patches of his hair switch back and forth from the current coal black to his more normal fiery locks, his eyes changing from a pale green to the unhinged yellow of yore.

Nathan crawls over to his love, tears streaming down his face, his mournful cries shattering the hearts of the gathered masses. At long last, he reaches his beloved, cradling her in his arms, rocking her, and swatting away the paramedics as they attempt to help her. Standing tall, he struggles through his own pain wracked muscles to carry her as she hangs limply from his arms. He gently places her on a stretcher, allowing the medics to do their job at last as they wheel her away as fast as they can.

Ace Anderson: That... we're gonna cut to break, folks. We'll be back with you shortly.

Jerry Andrews: That was rough. I don't think I've ever seen -

The feed clicks back on, Sasha Greene standing near the announcer's table and borrowing a microphone!

"Ladies and gentlemen, due to the outside interference, the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club have asked that the referee reverse his decision. Instead, Charles Lim has labeled the tag match a No Contest."

Jerry Andrews (solemnly): After the brutal attack by Alexa Black and the Shaw Brothers, there is a little bit of good news for the tag champions, at least.

Ace Anderson: It was a good show of sportsmanship from the Gentlemen, but I doubt that the match's outcome is anywhere on Saniti's mind right now.

Jerry Andrews: Absolutely horrific. Alexa and her new stable have been on a tear tonight. We'll keep you updated on the progress of both Hiroshi Yukio AND Kelli Starr as we get them folks.

The crowd looks to the entrance way as “Black Widow” by In This Moment roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage and they start booing loudly almost drowning out the music.

Jerry Andrews: She is ultra-violent. She is certifiable. She is Alexa Black.

Ace Anderson in a heavy tone: At least now she is actually supposed to be OUT here.

Alexa Black steps through the curtain, her face lit up with a wicked smile. By her side on the left is her
manager, Orin Boyd, and on her right her huge bodyguard, Lashawnda Tyson. She walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies and the PCW Faithful don't hold back their hatred of this evil woman.

Ace Anderson: PCW has seen its fair share of bastards and degenerates, but Alexa Black takes the cake. Evil personified. She doesn't desire wins, money, or titles. She just wants to inflict pain and suffering upon her opponents.

She mocks the crowd and badmouths fans on the way to the ring using various profanities, many of which are bleeped for the television viewing audience; especially the C-Bomb she drops on a six-year-old girl. Spotting a young boy at ringside with a vibrant Kelli Starr sign, she snatches it from his hands and tears it to pieces before his welled up eyes. She contemplates dropping trou and urinating on the shredded remains but realizes that she's a role model to young boys and girls throughout the world she'd probably be fined and suspended, preventing her from inflicting pain and getting her jollies.

Jerry Andrews: Aw, c'mon, Ace! She just took that poor kid's sign and ripped it to pieces!

Ace Anderson: I believe she intends a similar fate for the Adrenaline King.

As she continues to walk down to the ring the crowd grows louder and louder so that even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing. She reaches the ring and climbs up on the ring apron. Alexa enters the ring and the crowd starts throwing rubbish at her. Food and cups of beer fly in from all directions but she simply doesn't care. Ain't noone gonna cramp her style! The music fades out as Alexa stays in the ring waiting for her next victim while Orin and Lashawnda remain at ringside in her corner for the match.

Jerry Andrews: And now...her opponent.

The arena darkens and the stage fills with a heavy white smoke as the opening chords of “Light 'Em Up” by Fall Out Boy begin. Lights strobe through the smoke teasing a shrouded figure standing on the stage. An explosion on the stage clears the smoke as the lights come back up, leaving Justin Kaard posing on the stage, stance staggered with one arm raised in the air.

Ace Anderson: Listen to these people. The Faithful have declared their allegiance to the Adrenaline King!

Kaard strides purposely down the ramp, stopping about halfway down as he pumps his fists into the air. Stopping at the poor boy and girl that felt Alexa's wrath, he pulls them over the guardrail into the aisle so that their folks can snap a handful of photos. The fans give a warm round of applause for the consummate fan favorite. Continuing down the ramp, he turns the corner and sprints towards the ring. With a slight leap he slides on his knees along the apron before catching himself and facing the audience. Stepping up and through the ropes he makes a circuit around the ring before bouncing off the far side and...Alexa is there with a charging clothesline!

Jerry Andrews: Kaard must have eyes in the back of his head!

Surely, for Kaard somehow managed to dodge Black's attack by a hair. Shrugging off the pleasantries, Eric Russo decides to call for the bell and start the contest.

Match Five
Singles Match
Alexa Black vs "The Adrenaline King" Justin Kaard
Referee: Eric Russo

Jerry Andrews: A classic matchup here, Ace. Kaard's speed and quickness versus Alexa's brute strength.

Ace Anderson: A modern day David and Goliath, if you will.

Quick and nimble, Kaard bounces are the ring refusing to allow Alexa to get her thick, greasy digits on him. Alexa's plays the pradator well as she slowly stalks her play around the ring. Kaard does well to circle around his much stronger foe, but Alexa eventually gets him trapped in a corner.

Ace Anderson: Oh, boy. Don't let the fact of Alexa being a woman fool you, she is a former world class power lifter. If she gets her hands and the much smaller Justin Kaard, she's liable to snap him like a twig. Or a toothpick. Or a...

Jerry Andrews: We get the picture.

With the Andrenaline King cornered, the Black Widow lunges forward...but Kaard manages to slip out of harm's way. As Alexa turns to face him, Kaard unloads with a full combination of punches and kicks. Although stunned by the blows, Alexa uses her immense power to shove Kaard all the way across the ring into the opposite corner. Unsatisfied, Alexa charges with a head of steam and leaps into the air with hopes of crushing her foe in the corner. But Kaard darts out of the way leaving Alexa with a steady diet of turnbuckle!

Ace Anderson: Nobody home! Kaard's speed has proven too much for Alexa thus far.

Kaard's stick and move strategy is beginning to pay dividends as he lays into Alexa's lower body with a variety of educated kicks. The Adrenaline King's strategy is quite apparent: Slow the beast, chop down the beast, slay the beast. Several of Justin's kicks to the knees and thighs land with a loud CRACK that causes the fans in the first ten rows to cringe with phantom pain.

Jerry Andrews: Justin Kaard is taking it to Alexa with a sound gameplan. If she thought she was going to come into this match and steamroll her smaller foe, she's quickly realized her folly.

Ace Anderson: But look at Alexa. She's like a mindless tank in there. All brawn. No brains. She walking right through Kaard's barrage.

Sure enough, Alexa stubbornly presses forward. Charging Kaard into the corner, she attempts to wrap her muscular arms around the Adrenaline King. The slippery Kaard is able to squeeze between the ropes to the ring apron, kicking Alexa in the dome in the process. Alexa staggers back into the middle of the ring as Kaard sprints to the opposite corner, runs up the turnbuckle with impeccable balance, and takes flight with a plancha that smashes Alexa to the mat. The Faithful let out a roar as Kaard attempts the pin. 1...2...kickout!

Ace Anderson: Close, but no cigar Bill Clinton!

Kaard, having outmaneuvered and outwitted Alexa to this point, closes in to put her away. Connecting with a pair of leg drops to keep the pressure on, Justin moves to the edge of the ring and waits for a groggy Alexa to rise. As soon as the wounded Alexa begins to pull herself up in the corner, Justin leaps into action with a cartwheel into a back handspring into a flying back elbow...but Alexa was playing possum! She catches the King in midair and whips him into a modified inverted swinging sideslam driving him face first into the canvas!!! The wind is driven from the crowd's sails.

Jerry Andrews: Not so fast, Ace Anderson! A mindless tank what?! Alexa just lured Kaard in and plastered him all over the mat!

Alexa, quite proud of her accomplishment, points to her head to let all of the Faithful know how smart she is. She's met with a resounding boo, prompting her to flip the fans the double birds. Turning her attention back to her prey, a sickening smile spreads across her face as her fingers contort involuntarily in morbid anticipation. Ripping Kaard up off the mat by his face, she plants him into the canvas with a solid bodyslam. And that's just for an appetizer.

Ace Anderson: It's amazing how quickly the tide has turned. This is exactly when Kaard doesn't want to be: In Alexa's clutches. Every move from Alexa is a power move. A simple bodyslam from Alexa would paralyze the average man.

Taking her time to enjoy her work, she measures Kaard before inflicting a jumping stomp into the side of his jaw! He writhes on the mat in pain as Alexa laughs heartily at his misfortune. Kaard refuses to stay down, but Alexa doesn't let him reach his feet. Wrapping her strong arms around his torso, she lifts him high into the air before driving him into the mat with a gut wrench powerbomb! She holds him on the mat as Russo slides in for the count. 1...2...Alexa voluntarily releases Kaard so that she can inflict more punishment.

Jerry Andrews: Not sure if Alexa would have gotten him there, but definitely foolish of her to release the pin like that. You give a competitor like Kaard a second chance and it'll come back to bite you in the you-know-what.

Kaard rolls to his stomach and crawls toward the ropes. Toying with Kaard like a cat with its prey, she methodically stomps on his hand, using her heel to grind it into the canvas. Alexa's tacitics draw the ire of the fans, cause her to beam with pleasure. Moving to Kaard's lower extremities, Alexa lands a pair of stomps to Justin's ankle before locking in a heel hook submission. Thankfully for Kaard, he's not far from the ropes and he forces the break.

Ace Anderson: Although you wouldn't know it by looking at her, Alexa is actually well-versed and experienced in submission wrestling. She just likes to, you know, use weapons and makes her opponents bleed instead.

Now it is Alexa's turn to wait patiently for Kaard to stand. She waits anxiously for Justin to stand before charging across the ring with her Facebreaker pump kick, but she quickly sees her opportunity dry up faster than a Mike Park fan club as the Adrenaline King rolls out of dodge! Kaard, quicker than a hiccup, chop blocks Black's leg out from under her! With speed on his side, Kaard hits the ropes and springboards off with his Deuces Wild Pheonix Splash! The wind is driven from Alexa as Kaard hooks the leg. 1...2...

Ace Anderson: What in the world?!

The count is suddenly stopped as Kaard is rolled to his back. Alexa's hand is locked to Justin's jaw, her fingers stuffed into his mouth! She's got a variation of a mandible claw locked in on Kaard!

Jerry Andrews: The Paralyzer! Alexa's got her patented submission hold locked on tight, and it's doing exactly as its name implies!

A jolt of adrenaline sees the King surge to his feet, but Alexa's got the claw locked in tight. Kaard struggles for all he's worth, but the energy is being visibly sapped from his being. Alexa's eyes are alight with pleasure as she clamps down on Kaard's mandible nerve, slowly paralyzing him. In a latch ditch effort, Kaard flails wildly causing referee Russo to duck for cover. As he does so, the Adrenline King plants to toe of his boot squarely into Alexa's downstairs mixup!

Ace Anderson: Oh! Kaard with a low blow! That's one way to break the hold!

Indeed, the claw is released as the Black Widow doubles over. In the blink of an eye, Kaard has hit the ropes and he connects with his Mach Five running knee smash! Alexa is flat on the mat seeing stars as Kaard pulls himself to the top rope in one fluid motion before taking flight with a beautiful Seattle Space Walk! And he connects! Russo whirls into position for the count. 1...2...3!

Ace Anderson: All it took was a split-second for Kaard to strike, and the young veteran took full advantage. On any given night, Kaard has the ability to put anyone to sleep. Alexa just found that out first hand tonight.

Kaard quickly rolls outside the ring to safety as Orin and Lashawnda barge into the ring. Realizing that Justin escaped with full use of his limbs and bowel control, Alexa lets out a screech of frustration.

Winner: Justin Kaard via Pinfall

Main Event
Non-Title Triple Threat Match
Justin "Stormm" Michaels vs Grimm (World ©) vs Michael "Mr. Showtime" Wryght (International ©)
Special Referee: Non Compos Mentis (North American ©)

"Gold on the Ceiling" by The Black Keys begins to blare over the P.A. system and the arena darkens. A single spotlight begins to shine on the entrance way illumination none other than “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. He is wearing a long black and silver sleeveless robe. He stands there with his back to the ring and his arms crossed. The back of the robe is exposed with the words in blue and silver “Mr. Showtime” and slightly behind him is the beautiful Perfection. Showtime slowly walks to the beat of the music as the only light in the arena follows him to the ring. He walks up the stairs and whips off his feet on the outside apron. He ducks under the top rope and two other spotlights shoot on him he spins and puts his arms out. He slowly makes his way to the corner crossing his wrists, with is fingers are lock making a “W.” He pulls his arms down setting off some small pyros behind him, which also begins the lights to return to the arena.

Jerry Andrews: Showtime’s campaign for POTUS seems to be picking up steam, don’t you think?

Ace Anderson: Wait, you’re following that? I didn’t think you were the political type.

Jerry Andrews: Aren’t you? Who are you gonna tick the box for in November?

Ace Anderson: Not on the air, Jerry...

Jerry Andrews: Aw, c’mon, Ace.

Ace Anderson: How about “Anyone But Trump 2016“?

Jerry Andrews: Hey look, we DO agree on politics!

Ace’s muttered reply is lost in the feed as the arena lights dim down to a gentle glow and the sound of pouring rain fills the arena to the brim as an orange fog begins to cover the entrance way. Hardly containing themselves already, the fans start to rise to their feet as a sudden bright flash of orange lights flood the crowd before a deafening crash of thunder rattles the foundation and leaves the arena in darkness. The pre-chorus rift to "Crash" by Decyfer Down instigates a small riot amongst those in attendance as orange flashes, like lightning, illuminate the way for the Force of Nature, and Justin Michaels appears through the curtain and onto the stage.

"CRASH! YOU'RE GOING DOWN! WITHOUT A SOUND!"


Justin plays to the cheers of the fans from atop the ramp, and marches back and forth while interacting with those in attendance. He nods his head and points towards the fans recognizing all the support they provide before turning his attention back to the ring, and starts to make his way towards the squared circle.

"THEN I'LL PASS YOU UP, BEFORE I EXPLODE! BREAKING IN TWO! I'LL SEE IT THROUGH!"

Having made it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring and gives a salute towards Ace Anderson and Jerry Andrews before hopping up onto the apron. He climbs through the ropes, and gives a quick nod towards Sasha before motioning to the crowd once more.

"YOU WON'T KEEP ME DOWN WHEN I CRASH THROUGH YOU!"

Justin immediately scales the nearest turnbuckle to raise his hands into the air for all to see. The flash bulbs surge throughout the arena as the orange lights brighten back to the venue's usual lighting. Justin repeats his actions and poses on the turnbuckle in the opposite corner before hopping down from the corner as his music fades out, but the overwhelming applause does not as he stands the ready for his match.

Ace Anderson: So the last time we saw Stormm, he was busily losing his mind at Grimm and Showtime.

Jerry Andrews: Which then incited Kelli to chase him down, ending the match.

Ace Anderson: You’re great at this whole “filling air time” thing, you know that?

Jerry Andrews: So... Stormm? That’s where we were at, right?

Ace Anderson: I’m just not sure what’s going on with the Black Hand anymore, and I think that somehow Stormm has even less of an idea than I do.

Jerry Andrews: I’m more interested to see what Grimm thinks about the whole thing...

Sparse percussion resonates throughout the arena and is soon joined by a droning, distorted bass line.

Ace Anderson: Timing.

At that, A Perfect Circle’s ”Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” stomps out of the speakers and marches through the aisles. The drums, the distortion, the voices – all work to herald the arrival of Grimm.

"Don’t fret, precious, I’m here. Step away from the window."

He walks out to a single blue-white spotlight, stops to bask in the light and shadows, and scans the crowd. The Lord of Misrule closes his eyes and sighs before making the long walk to the ring, ignoring the fans along the way. The spotlight follows. The words work their way up through the layers of the song.

Go back to sleep.

Phinehas climbs up onto the apron and slides in between the ropes. Hopping up onto a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down. And waits.

Jerry Andews: This is it, Ace, arguably the biggest match of the night. I know most of the talents complain when they pull the short straw for special ref, but -

Ace Anderson: I don’t think it’s quite like that, speaking from experience. There’s usually a reason.

Jerry Andrews: What do you suppose the bookers had in mind here?

Ace Anderson: Well, the Black Hand has been forcibly restructuring PCW everywhere they can since the stable announced itself over a year ago. Rhodes here was hauled out of retirement by Eira just to combat the menace, and -

Jerry Andrews: And look how great that went - Eira’s not even HERE anymore.

Ace Anderson: Dude, she’s making a baby. Give her a break.

Jerry Andrews: Right, so. NCM?

Ace Anderson: AS I was saying, NCM has been a staunch opponent of the Black Hand since his return - if ANYONE is going to be able to stand between these three and keep things settled it’d be him.

Another long moment of tension, but here we go! Stormm and Showtime both rocket forward to meet Grimm, the sibilant siblings rushing the World Champion in a clear effort to take him down at the outset. Grimm tries to fight back at first, but covers up after a moment and backs into the corner, weathering an onslaught of kicks and punches from his opponents. The crowd cheers as Grimm gives a powerful shove, knocking both Justin and Showtime staggering back! He grabs the back of the nearest competitor’s head to deliver a big knee to Michaels’ ribcage that sends him staggering back and falling to one knee, the wind knocked out of him. Grimm’s attention snaps to a crafty Stormm doing his best to capitalize on Phineas’ turned back - only to have Grimm go to hammer him down to the mat with a readied leg sweep!

Jerry Andrews: Look out Stormm!

...that barely misses the tenured veteran, who saw the move coming just a split second early enough - and jumps over it! Grimm’s only response is a blink ( Of surprise? Was he impressed? IS he ever impressed?!) before Stormm bullies him into the corner and connects with a quick snapmare out of it, applying a rear chinlock to try and lock Grimm down into an early submission!

Ace Anderson: Submission was never Grimm’s strong point.

Jerry Andrews: He doesn’t really have much in the way of weak points though.

Ace Anderson: Well no, but if we had to pick one...

NCM peers in on Grimm, asking if he needs to tap out, shrugging and stepping away as Grimm declines to answer - moving out of the way just in time for Showtime to go flying past in a blur to barrel Stormm away from Grimm! Showtime and Stormm go tumbling into the ropes, Stormm getting his left arm caught between the heavy cables! Grabbing a hold of Stormm’s right wrist, Grimm hauls him out and swings him into Showtime only for the Force of Nature to be dropped again with a high angle dropkick from Wryght - who crashes into the turnbuckle with his chest! Grimm moves in as Stormm rolls clear, turning Showtime around and laying in with a nasty haymaker, Showtime firing back with a hard right!

Jerry Andrews: FISTICUFFS!

Ace Anderson: Wrong match, Jerry.

No matter the case, Grimm and Showtime are indeed pounding away on one another with a barrage of punches and strikes - Stormm attempting to get the jump on a back-turned Showtime - but Showtime plants a crisp European uppercut right into Stormm’s jaw! Justin Showtime follows up with an armdrag, then another as Stormm tries to quell the momentum. He finally blocks the third, but as he's turning Michaels to land an armdrag of his own, Grimm yanks Stormm away to capitalize with a high angle arm bar!

Ace Anderson: Looks like Stormm is having a hard time keeping momentum in this match.

Jerry Andrews: One thing that makes this match interesting, Ace, is that all of the compeitors are very experienced veterans, legends in the annals of PCW history - Anyone could take this one.

Ace Anderson: I'm just wondering if they're gonna take that left arm of Stormm's clean OFF - they're really working that area!

Stormm on his feet now, he goes barrelling into Grimm, the sheer momentum knocking him down to the mat - Stormm managing to lock the him into a submission hold! Grimm struggles for the ropes, refusing to tap out as he claws his way forward inch by agonizing inch - finally making contact only to have Stormm keep the hold on!

Ace Anderson: OI! REF!

Jerry Andrews: Maybe Showtime wants Grimm taken out so he can take out Stormm?

No matter the reason, Non Compos Mentis is having exactly none of those shenanigans and forcibly removes Stormm from Grimm, hand splayed on Stormm’s chest and clearly giving him a few choice words about his in-ring behavior. Michaels shoulders NCM roughly aside (and takes a smack upside the back of his head for his troubles) and grabs Grimm up in a quick mat crashing suplex! Before Stormm can wrap Grimm up for the pin, Showtime smashes into him with a vicious spear, knocking him away - and onto the ringside floor below! Heedless to Justin’s roar of pain, Showtime manhandles Michaels up from the floor.

Jerry Andrews: Wait, something's wrong...

Ace Anderson: He's holding his arm - is his wrist broken!?

NCM seems to agree with their assessment of something amiss, moving forward to inquire - right as Showtime slings Stormm sliding swiftly south of the bottom rope and back into the ring! Rolling in after him, Showtime wrenches him up by that left arm, Stormm’s face going ashen as a sickening pop echoes around the Arena! Wryght instinctively releases, Grimm taking a step forward towards Stormm and -

Jerry Andrews: Oh no!

Blood EXPLODES from Stormm’s face as Grimm’s craggy brow BLASTS into the bridge of Stormm’s nose! Michaels goes down and STAYS down, Grimm wrapping him up tight pin!

Jerry Andrews: The Sword of Heimdall!

Ace Anderson: Yeah, I don’t see Stormm getting back up, but...

...1!

...2!

...3!!!

Winner: Grimm (World ©) via Pinfall

A Perfect Circle’s “Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” begins to play over the PCW loudspeakers as NCM hands Grimm the title, the hard glints of the PCW World Championship belt sparking in the Arena lights.

Jerry Andrews: So Grimm is the winner, Showtime came out alright, and Stormm... What do you think, Ace? Broken arm?

Ace Anderson: I dunno, but something isn’t right - the way he’s holding his shoulder... we might not be seeing Stormm in action for a while.

While Grimm and Showtime confer in the corner with the occasional glance shot towards Stormm, rising groggily to his feet with nightmarish rivulets of blood trickling freely from his nose, both eyes already purpling. NCM vacates the ring as Stormm leads the way to the back, cradling his left arm and wincing as every step jars his upper body - med techs flooding the scene to assist.

Jerry Andrews: Looks like you might be right!

Ace Anderson: Well, the one way or the other, I don’t know what this says for the Black Hand. Lots of strange goings on and all that. Are they... are they done?

Jerry Andrews: I can't even tell anymore. They seem to be losing their domineering grip on the fed though, that's for sure. Unless Alexa Black is working for THEM now? This IS PCW, strange goings on are par for the course.

Ace Anderson: This IS PCW, and this IS all the time we have for tonight - to all those in attendance, thanks for coming out -

Jerry Andrews: - and for all those at home, thanks for tuning in!

-CLICK-

Disco Stud d. Nick Black
Q d. Jury
Yukio d. Crazy Boy
ESGC requests ruling of No Contest rather than taking a win v. Psychedelica
Justin Kaard d. Alexa Black
Grimm d. Stormm and Showtime by pinning Stormm

Shoutout to the mules! I literally COULD NOT do this without you all. You guys rock face, and Dan you were straight up metal this show. Sorry for the lateness - hope you all enjoyed it!