Mass Destruction VI Results!!

[Eira]

PCW's Mass Destruction VI
Thursday March 17th, 2016

"A NEW LIFE BEGINS"

Heralded by Jamey Jasta's scream, Hatebreed’s ”Destroy Everything blasts out of the PCW loudspeakers, the cameras panning out over the crowd in a swirling panoramic before heading in to Jerry and Ace at ringside.

Jerry Andrews: Good EVENING ladies and gentlemen, and WELCOME to Pure Class Wrestling’s MASS DESTRUCTION SIX! This is Jerry Andrews at the helm with our color analyst Ace Anderson

Ace Anderson: Evening, folks! So tonight we have - wait.

Jerry Andrews: What?

Ace Anderson: Why do YOU get the helm?

Jerry Andrews: I was here first.

Ace Anderson: I’m calling shotgun next time.

Jerry Andrews: You said shotgun. That just landed you on at least one goverment watch list.

Ace Anderson: You just said it too.

Jerry Andrews: AND THIS TONIGHT we have some great action lined up for you folks, some incredible match ups await!

Ace Anderson: Let’s not keep ‘em waiting then, Jerry. On with the show!

Jerry Andrews: First things first, management decided to bring the slated dark match forward so that everyone at home can enjoy with the rest of us - newcomer Baby Jenks faces off against moonlighter Buck Brochamp!

Exhibition Showcase
Singles Match
Baby Jenks vs Buck Brochamp
Referee: Joseph Buckland

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall under standard rules. Introducing first... from Mancave Junction, Nevada..."

The ”Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO song plays and out walks the really muscular Buck Brochamp. He's not on steroids. He's buff and the fans just love him for it.

“Weighing in at 6‘8“ tall and 325lbs.... BUCK BROCHAAAAAAAAMP!”

He walks down to the ring as expensive loud fireworks shoot off all around the arena for the entrance of the Broski. His biceps are huge and he's real tan as he climbs in the ring ready to crush his opponent into nothing or dust.

“And now, introducing... newcomer billing from Lincolnton, North Carolina...”

The front porch thump and dirty south guitar of "Snake Song" by Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan shuffle-stomps out over the arena, Baby Jenks stepping out onto the stage and looking out over the crowd.

“Weighing in at 5‘9“ tall and 141lbs, she is.... BAABYYYY JENNNNNNKSS!”

The vocals slur in and she swaggers down the ramp, bantering with the crowd as she goes. Jumping up onto the apron, she wipes her boots before stepping between the ropes and shadowboxes a few punches to loosen up before the match.

Ace Anderson: So what’re your thoughts here, Jerry?

Jerry Andrews: Well, we’ve got the usual noise - smaller, faster, bigger, stronger, you know the story.

Ace Anderson: I know what you mean. If Baby Jenks can put Buck Brochamp away early, the game is hers. But if he gets those giant paws on her...

Jerry Andrews: He’ll try to invite her to his frat party?

Ace Anderson: That sounds even worse than the physics involved between the two. There’s nearly a full foot difference in height, and he outweighs her by... hang on...

Jerry Andrews: 184 pounds.

Ace Anderson: Show off.

Referee Joseph Buckland dutifully calls both to the center and reminds them of the rules. Not that wrestlers ever mind them. Especially when one is so punchable like Brochamp, who obscenely gestures at Baby Jenks (we'll leave it at that). Buckland wisely cues the timekeeper in time with Baby's leaping knee to the chest of Brobro, forcing the bout onto the mat where miss submission expert wraps an arm around Bro's throat, stretches him out, and then cruelly slams hammer-fist after hammer-fist onto otherwise sweet abs. All Brobro can think of is to roll over in a squirmmy manner, which doesn't effectively do anything other than tighten Baby's grip.

Jerry Andrews: Ouch! Just - RIGHT there with the savagery!

Ace Anderson: She IS Alexa Black’s little sister.

Jerry Andrews: I’d forgotten about that, thanks for the nightmare fuel.

Ace Anderson: You’re welcome.

Actually, you know what? The brobro is smarter than he looks. Ring awareness is made evident by Buckland spotting two fingers holding on for dear life on a corner buckle, which technically counts, right? The ref must grant Brochamp mercy, but Baby sure won't too easily. As in Buckland has to yell out numbers up to five before Baby has had enough of punishing Brochamp at least in this way. Because Buck coughs up a fit and appears slow to rise, Baby poses for the audience in a mock imitation of, you guessed it. What you couldn't possibly guess is the failed attack from behind by Brobro, who looked really unimpressed by Baby's clowning, but even though Baby prevented the tackle by headlocking him in an inverted position, her follow up attempt to push off the turnbuckle allowed Buck to practically drop Baby on her head in a funky way. That sequence happened much faster than it read, by the way. Damn sentences.

Jerry Andrews: This is - I’m not even sure what we’re -

Ace Anderson: Maybe they should have left this one a dark match. This is like watching two pissed off bullies taking a turn at each other instead of the rest of the kids.

Now caught up with the action, which is also caught up in Brochamp slamming Baby all about like the Hulk manhandling, well, a baby. It don't matter who you are: once a muscular buffoon has you, you're gonna get got. And Baby, strong-willed as she is, who tries to lock on any sort of hold her rattled mind can focus on, is too drained to put her grappling expertise to use. Alas, a vertical suplex into a sit-out piledriver, aptly named the Brochamp Driver, Buck wraps her up and puts Baby to sleep.

...1!

...2!

...

...3!!!!

Winner: Buck Brochamp via Pinfall

Buckland’s hand hits the mat for the third time, Brochamp jumping up to play the crowd as Baby Jenks comes to and flips over to stand ready - only to punch the nearest turnbuckle in frustration as she sees what’s happened. Spitting at Brochamp’s feet, she turns and rolls out of the ring, stalking back up the ramp as LMFAO’s ”Party Anthem” plays the winner’s chosen fanfare.

Ace: A surprising win here for Brochamp - and on PPV!

Jerry: Let’s not discount Baby Jenks - she fought hard and showed us she definitely has a bright future here!

Suddenly 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.

Ace: What is this? This isn't on the schedule! Can someone backstage tell me what is going on here? Why is she coming out here??

Jerry: It's Alexa, Ace. The only schedule she works to is what ever her whacked out mind wants.

Alexa Black steps through the curtain her face lit up with a wicked smile by her side on the left is her manager Alexander Shaw and on her right her huge bodyguard Frederick Shaw.

She walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back their hatred of this evil woman.

Ace: I see the faithful are giving her their usual *loving* reception.

Jerry: She has earned the hatred of the faithful and she hates them right back!

She mocks the crowd and badmouth fans on the way using various profanity which is uncensored on PPV and contains many F bombs and a C word. She sees a kid at ringside with a Psychadellica sign and goes to destroy it, but security bars her way!

Jerry: Looks like they’re getting wise to her nastiness.

Ace: I don’t know how they could have let it go on as long as it DID!

As she continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing. She reaches the ring and Alexa climbs up on the ring apron. She 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.

The music fades out as Alexa and the Shaw Brothers enter the ring. Alexa has a mic and raises to her lips to speak.

"How bout it ladies and gentlemen? Let's hear it for my little sister, the lovely and talented Angelina Black!"

She raises her sisters arm and the crowd boos loudly!

"Shut up you pathetic middle class pieces of trash I don't need your moronic input here. This is my time so you will sit your bitch asses down and kindly shut the fuck up!"

More loud intense boos from the crowd then a chant breaks out...

"Fuck you too bitch! " *clap clap clap*

"Fuck you too bitch!" *clap clap clap*

"Fuck you too bitch!" *clap clap clap*

Ace: Wow my ears are hurting! So many F-bombs! I hope the FCC doesn't fine us for this I know it's PPV but even that has limits...

Jerry: I agree. This is going too far.

The crowd eventually dies down and Alexa raises the mic again and continues to speak.

"Since the beginning of my time in PCW I have noticed many things. I have noticed that the management in this place is so incompetent that more than once it has almost come to ruin."

More boos.

“That the groups like the AWAssholes and Marshall's Law ran roughshod over PCW and no one did anything about it until it was too late.

And as has more recently the Black Hand. Snap crackle popping superstars, winning championships and just generally doing what ever they want. But have you noticed what has happened over the last few months? The once feared and dominant group has faded out and become nothing more than a bunch of has beens.”

She nods around, grinning like a psycho as the crowd boos her.

“Billy Sadistic has gone AWOL and hasn't been seen since Grimm won the title from him. Nobody knows where he has gone or why but he hasn't come back.”

Alexa chuckles.

"Our illustrious PCW President "Mr Showtime" Michael Wryght is too busy stroking his......ego what with his presidential campaign and running PCW so he won't be any help either. Justin "Stormm " Michaels is on the injured list so he is just a cripple now which is sad. The only man left standing is the ginger bearded nightmare that is your PCW World Champion Grimm. He's the last memory of what was a once powerful stable.

But that is where I come in...

I along with my sister and my blood brothers The Shaws, have decided to come together and form a new group in PCW one that will pick up and succeed where others have failed.”

Angelina takes the mic and looks to the crowd her face intense with focus.

"We will do what we want when we want to whomever we want and there is nothing anyone can do to stop us!"

Alexander Shaw speaks next a wicked smile on his face as he does so.

"Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift. Over the years I grew to appreciate that gift and it helped me in my time of need.

And soon we will share this gift with you all... The gift of Darkness!”

Ace: This is not good news Jerry. This group who call themselves the Darkness are here in PCW and judging by their members it's going to be trouble for all of us... What do you think?

Jerry Andrews: I think... well, I think I don’t know what to think other than brown trousers time, but it’s ACTUALLY time for the next match!

Ace Anderson: That’s right - are you ready for the show to really get going? Next up we have a match between Raven Hex and Disco Stud!

Jerry Andrews: Yep, we all saw some of what Hex can do at Trauma 188, with Disco Stud flagging in his performance after a promising debut. However, I think that -

The arena's lights go dim, fading away until all is darkness.

Ace Anderson: What the hell? NOW what?!



The dark lingers for a moment before the PCW-Tron flickers to life, distressed and faded footage of storm-born waves crashing against a dark and rocky cliff playing. A female voice rises up through the sound of the surf, her words influenced by a faint Irish Brogue.

???: She told me that I was born of myth.

The visual of the waves gives way to black and white footage of a dark-haired woman hitting a Sling Blade-- a move she calls 'Rip Tide'--on an opponent before she hooks the leg. While she is certainly beautiful, the expression upon her features as the three is counted makes her visage a fearsome thing to behold even as the water swallows that visual, returning to that edge where ocean and land mass meet.

???: She said that I was more than this.

Another flash of in-ring action shows itself through the tumultuous water, this time of the same dark-haired woman making another opponent tap out to her version of the Cobra Death Lock--a move called simply 'Undertow'.

???: And you know what? After all this time...

Through the waves, a close-up of the woman's eyes can be seen-- so large and dark that they may almost belong to a seal rather than to a human being. They gaze into the camera unblinking, unyielding.

???: I think that she might have been right.

A final wave comes crashing down upon the camera, sending the visual to darkness. As the sound of distant waves wash over the arena, the name 'Brenna Gordon' writes itself in a swirling and ornate text. After a few seconds, it and the sound both fade… and the lights fade back to proper brightness.


Jerry Andrews: WELL. That was - well, that was certainly something, wasn’t it?

Ace Anderson: I’m kind of intrigued, myself.

Jerry Andrews: Because she’s pretty?

Ace Anderson: Because if this is any indication, she’s one of the more unique talents we’ve seen in a while.

Jerry Andrews: The kinds of people we have here, and you’re telling me SHE’S the unique one?

Ace Anderson: She’s not talking about how violent she is, she’s not talking about how crazy she is, and she’s not talking about how heroic she is. I can get behind that.

Match One
Underground Singles Match
Raven Hex vs The Disco Stud
Referee: Ed Lane

The lights in the arena shut off, generating a buzz from the crowd. Darkness remains for almost half a minute, causing the crowd to get a little louder with tension before the sound of the speakers turning on confirms that the power is not out. A deep, foreboding breath inhales, the amps reverberating through the arena...

"She's in love with herself..."

“She likes the dark…”

Red strobe lights begin to flash throughout the arena as the image of the late Pete Steele’s bone white face close up on the screen of the tron, freaking practically everyone out as the lead singer of Type-O-Negative grins, revealing vampire fangs. The music is picking up now as Steele’s face fades out and then back in, looking like Dracula incarnate.

“And on her milk white neck…the Devil’s mark…”

The official video of “Black No.1” cuts out for a moment, replaced by the image of a raven, perched on a branch in a dark forest, human eye ball dangling from its beak.

“Now it’s All Hallow’s Eve

The moon is full

Oh, will she trick or treat?

I bet she will…”

The raven looks at the camera before cawing, the eyeball dropping as its wings unfurl and it flies at the screen. The sound of a female fan losing her shit echoes throughout the arena, and as the strobe lights continue, you can see the unsettled look on some people’s faces. The camera switches now to a foggy graveyard as the camera follows the backside of a flowing robe, a tattooed hand brushing over tomb stones.

“SHE WILL!!!!!!”

After Steele screams, the music picks up, louder and faster as smoke begins to escape the stage. At the same time, the same cloaked figure emerges from backstage, hood covering the face but long blonde locks hanging like cob webs from the death shawl. The head beneath the hood rises, the smoke billowing around the figure as the lights change from red to lime green. The same tattooed hand escapes a sleeve and rises up slowly before pushing back the hood, a crazed smile on the face of Raven Hex as she reveals herself to the skeeved audience.

“Well when I called her evil

She just laughed.

And cast that spell on me.

Boo Bitch Craft.”

Hex shrugs her shoulders, letting the moth eaten cloak fall into the smoke as she slowly begins to walk down the ramp, her chest rising and falling with her breathing, exposed cleavage glistening from the moisture of the simulated fog, giving the males in the audience a show as she walks through the chorus of the dark song.

Introducing the first competitor, from Boston Massachussets and weighing in at 155 lbs. ... RAVENNNNNNNNN HEEEEEEEEEEX!

As is her ritual, she finds the first decent looking man of age along the ramp and goes up to him, grabbing him by the hair and craning his neck back before baring her teeth, licking her lips and then giving him a kiss that seems only enjoyable to the S & M crowd. Either way, the guy doesn’t fight her off and she withdraws, her tongue snaking out and licking away what seems to be a small amount of blood on her lips. Winking at the guy, she lets go of him and continues down towards the ring, the strobe lights making it look as if she is gliding. Her face keeps changing from demented smile to an awkward stoic expression, but she reaches the ring and slides in head first before getting onto her knees and crawling like a stabbing victim towards the other side of the ring.

She lies there just under the ropes, face on the apron as the strobe lights cease and the spotlight is on the ring.

“Loving you, was like loving the dead…was like loving the dead…”

“Was like FUCKING the dead!”

Raven switches from a blank stare at the commentating table to a joyous grin as she uses the ropes to pull herself up to a standing position, her entrance now finished as her fractured mind does whatever it does before a match.

Ace Anderson: Interesting ... uhm ... interesting dynamic we have in this match, Jerry. At least on the personality front. One the one hand, you have Raven Hex who, quite frankly, odds me the hell out.

Jerry Andrews: Don’t let the cover fool you, Ace. She’s as capable as any man or woman to step foot in that ring and if I were her opponent tonight, I’d be just a little bit worried.

"Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer starts to play throughout the arena as we see the Disco Stud appear dressed in a white leisure suit decked out in rhinestones. The Disco Stud starts to strut down to the ring as the fans cheer him on.

And introducing next! From Las Vegas, Nevada and weighing in at 185 lbs ... THE DISCOOOOOOOOOO STUD!

He enters the ring and does a few more dance moves to the fans approval. The music fades as he removes his top to the delight of the crowd.

Jerry Andrews: The Disco Stud, Ace. He’s a feel good kind of guy, Ace. I don’t know what kind of success he’s gonna have in this fight here tonight.

Ace Anderson: Well keys to success are going to be the most obvious for the Stud: his size. He’s got a serious height advantage and about thirty pounds on Raven Hex. Affords him a reach advantage as well. He’s going to have to throw his weight around, literally. Press the advantage. He does that, he’s got a better shot at walking out with the win and all his limbs intact.

Jerry Andrews: Some very valid points, Ace. And for Hex?

Ace Anderson: Hex is interesting in that she’s polished on multiple fronts. Striking and brawling, speed, has shown some really nice technical prowess. She’s going to have to get past the reach advantage, the size advantage, and wear the Disco Stud down. I myself would focus on the core: the abdomen and the ribs, the back. Attack the foundation and the house can’t stand. Then it’ll be a lot easier for her to get around that size differential.

Jerry Andrews: Words of Wisdom from Ace Anderson, let’s go to ringside for the official beginning of the match!

The introductions already having been given, your official for this match is Ed Lane. He’s checking both competitors for foreign weapons, a search which both agree to without hesitation. He nods to the timekeeper and ...

DING DING DING!

... we are officially underway!

The two begin to circle, but Hex is quick go on the attack. Throwing a kick or two out towards the legs of the Disco Stud, the Stud is quick enough to avoid them but Hex is simply testing the waters in the opening moments. She ducks in with serpentine quickness, going for a double leg takedown, but the Stud halts any forward advance and steps to the side ... leaving Hex to slither on her stomach back towards the corner.

Staring hungrily at the Stud (and not in a pleasurable way), Hex returns to her feet ... never losing eye contact with him. Hex going in once again, she dives at his legs but again, the Stud is just a step ahead and avoids the grab with impressive grace. As Hex goes to slide away the second time, the Stud lands a boot to the head for good measure. She looks more annoyed at the attack than anything and immediately pops to her feet in a show of defiance.

She rushes in to lock up, and does so spectacularly. Even managing to get the upper hand on the Disco Stud in the opening moments, it slowly begins its’ stall as the Stud begins to muscle her back against the ropes. Pushing her over the safety of the top rope, Ed Lane is there to begin the customary 5 count. Stud breaking the hold at three, he begins to back away. A fatal error in judgement, as Hex lands a huge mid-roundhouse kick to the side ... doubling him over in pain.

Grabbing two hands full of hair, she drags him towards the center of the ring ... Lane admonishing her all the while.

Ace Anderson: NO! She’s ruining the coif! GET HER OFF OF HIM!

Jerry Andrews: The coif? Ace ...

Ace Anderson: The man’s got a glorious head of hair! Just because you’re not as blessed doesn’t mean he has to JOIN you in that spiral of shame.

Hex with the upperhand, she gives several kicks to the lower legs of the Stud, weakening his supports as she moves up his body ... laying fists into his abdomen and his rib cage before leaving the heaviest shots for the head. The Stud covering up as best he can, she lands a perfectly executed leg sweep that drops the Stud flat on his back. Quick to go for the leg, he tries his best to kick her away but she hangs on to the ankle ... dropping to her knees and folding it underneath him.

The Stud quick to turn onto his stomach to make good an escape, she slides up his body ... using her elbows to walk up his spine, creating not only immense amounts of discomfort but halting his forward momentum. Landing several elbows and fists to the sides, she straddles his back and slides her arms under his chin. Yanking back violently, she hooks the head with one arm and grapevines the legs around his waist ... cinching up a beautiful Dragon Sleeper.

Creating huge amounts of torque on the neck and on the back, Hex is in a prime spot to do some serious damage. The Stud has only one option and he realizes it: get out of this move in ANY way he can. Using the leg and hip muscles developed over years of boogie nights, his hips and legs come to life ... rolling him and scooting him and inching him towards the ropes. Just a few more inches ... can he ...

... YES! Pushing himself and Raven under the ropes, Ed Lane goes to call for a break in the hold, but Hex is refusing. She’s telling the official where he can stick it. Beginning his 5 count, the Stud can wait no longer to escape and gives one final heave ... sending both he AND Hex crashing outside to the floor! The impact giving one last strain on his neck and back, the hold is broken as Hex’s head thuds violently off of the ringside floor. Both competitors dazed, Lane watches them carefully to make sure there’s still some life left. Once he sees that there is movement ...

1!

He begins the standard ten count.

2!

3!

The Disco Stud a bit better off than his opponent, he begins to make it to his knees and then his feet. Slowly but surely, he’s aching the entire way up.

4!

5!

Hex beginning to get onto all fours, The Stud is pulling himself gingerly into the ring. There’s no telling what structural damage was created by that Dragon Sleeper, but he’s got a chance to assess the fallout as he makes it into the ring well before his opponent.

6!

7!

8!

Hex is up and using the apron to steady herself but does she have the cobwebs cleared enough to ...

9!

With one burst of quickness and determination, Hex is back into the ring and back into the fight! But for how long is anybody’s guess at this point; that’s the fun consequence of head injuries. That’s the fun consequence of head injuries.

...

Ace Anderson: Fast and furious action, Jerry. These two are leaving NOTHING for a sequel. It’s alllllllll hanging out tonight.

Jerry Andrews: You’re right about that, Ace. That spill was *nasty*. There’s no telling what that final twist on the neck did to Disco Stud, but the real question is: how much did that take out of Raven Hex? She landed head first with no real way to protect herself. I’d imagine that makes this a whole new ball game.

Raven Hex struggling to find the wherewithal to press the attack onto the Disco Stud’s severely weakened neck and midsection, the Stud has had a chance to inventory his damage and ... it’s not looking too good. However, he’s got the prime opportunity for some payback on Hex and boy howdy, is he gonna take it. Dragging her up by the hair, she standing fully now as the Stud lays in heavy shots. Keeping her at a distance, dictating the pace ... running a clinic while she’s still in the reboot process.

Feeling confident enough to strut just a little bit, he gets behind her and breaks off a little Saturday Night Fever ... hips popping and ... do I see the little hand-wave thing? Jesus, what are you doing? It’s 2016, for god’s sake. Wrapping an arm around her neck, he goes to kick his leg through and hook it on her ankle. Leaning forward, it looks as though he’s going for the Last Dance! Popping back up with a sudden jolt, she remains lowered and watches as he goes sailing back into the mat headfirst. HA! Not so fun, is it?!

Hex quick to shake the last of the fog away, a renewed sense of self as Hex lays in the boots to the fallen Stud. She’s tired of this cat and mouse game, it’s time to go for the kill. Several hard shots, but Disco will not die! The Stud begins to get to his feet, even through the flurry of shots that he’s taking, DISCO IS ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

As he makes it to his feet, the Stud shoves her away and as she returns to continue the assault, he catches her with a boot to the gut. Turning, he hooks her head in Ace Crusher position; CHART BUSTER?!

The crowd seems ready for the impact, but she’s not and she does the only thing she can. Dropping to her OWN knees before he can pull her down, she pulls back ... throwing his entire stance out of whack and toppling the charts. As he stumbles back, she holds onto his arm and hops up slightly ... wrapping her legs around his head and letting one leg follow through. Catching on the inside of his ankle, his head caught in the knee joint of her other leg. HEX GATE!

Ace Anderson: Out of all that! The Hex Gate! Man, she was in some SERIOUS trouble there, Jerry. This might just be her last gasp, but what a final gasp it is!

Jerry Andrews: On the weakened neck and back of the Disco Stud, this has got to be excruciating!

As Raven wrenches on the arm and the neck, pulling them as far apart as she can ... straining the muscles in between. Her full weight bearing down on the Disco Stud, he struggles to remain on his feet. Knowing full well that to drop is to lose any chance at this match that he has, he begins taking baby steps. Moving slightly here and there, he doesn’t seem to know which way he’s going ... his head forced down by the leg on top of his neck. And that right there is NOT a good thing.

Unable to continue moving in any one direction for too long, the Stud finally drops to a knee. Every muscle screaming in agony, he’s fighting the urge to just let go. Hex jerking and tearing, wrenching at the wrist and squeezing as tightly as possible. He’s fighting ... still in there but fading fast. The crowd is collectively wincing, almost as if begging for him to just give up. But no, he fights until the very last and finally ...

... he cannot take it any more and with his last voluntary action admits defeat with a simple tap of the hand on the mat.

DING DING DING!

Ed Lane signals for the bell and the crowd pops for the amazingly even back and forth match between the Disco Stud and Raven Hex. The gumption of these two competitors beyond reproach, Lane steps in to break the hold ... Hex finally releasing and the Stud left to cradle his arm and pretty much his entire right side. Hex on the mat, sliding back towards the corner ... she uses the ropes to steady herself as she stands. Holding her head with one hand, Ed Lane raises her hand in victory on the biggest stage in PCW’s calendar.

Winner: Raven Hex via submission

Several replays showing the harder hitting moments of the match, Hex basks in the glow of a hard-fought and well-deserved victory as she gives a slight nod towards the fallen Disco Stud before moving out of the ring to return to the back ... Ed Lane checking on the Stud as we go to the first title defense of the night!

Match Two
Underground Championship Defense Match
=Q= (Underground ©) vs Jury
Referee: Ty Little Jr

"The following contest will be fought under Underground rules and if for the Undergound title!"

Jerry: This promises to be a great match, Ace.

Ace: You ain't kiddin', Jerry. Two fan favorites, hardcore Underground rules, and the title on the line? And this is only the third match!

The crowd pops like the bloodthirsty little heathens they are.

"Introducing first, the challenger, weighing in at 295 pounds, and standing 6' 4" tall, hailing from New York City... he is known as JUUURYYYYYYYYYY!"

The peanut gallery gives the mountain of a man a stand ovation as he makes his way down to the ring to thunderous applause. 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 emerges from the back at a brisk pace, stoic calm written on his face. His gray eyes scan the appreciative crowd for a few seconds as he stops halfway down the ramp, he then marches on.


Sliding head first into the ring the quiet demeanor fades away, replaced by adrenaline, he begins to jump from leg to leg loosening up before he fights.

"And now the Underground King. Standing at 6' 3' and weighing in at 200 pounds..."

The sound of rocket ships can be heard in the background. The low ... but steadily rising rumble of engines. WHOOSH. KSSSSSSSSH. The doors open and ...


... out rolls the FUNK as "Super Soul Fighter," by Lenny Kravitz shakes the rafters! Q steps out as the music 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 babies. Kissing hands. 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.


The atmosphere has shifted from one of combat to one of FUN.

"He is the Single Letter Superstar... KYEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

Jerry: Do you suppose Q will pull out all of the stops?

Ace: Who knows? It's Q.


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.

Ty Little Jr. waves both men to the center. In a true display of sportsmanship, Q extends a hand to his opponent, which Jury shakes honorably with a nod. Little signals for the bell!

Jury circles Q, but the monk-like Q simply keeps his foe in his sights as he invites him to make the first move. And move he does! Jury charges in with a clothesline, but the wiry Q slips over the meaty arm and behind Steel, not relenting the limb. Applying a bit of pressure, the Single Letter Superstar drives Jury to deliberate his motives on one knee. The ref check Jury as Q wrenches back a bit more. Jury waves Little off, despite his yelps of pain.

Using his immense power, Jury overtakes the joint lock with quite a bit of fan-approved effort, pulling his arm back in front of him. He drives Q to the turnbuckles, smashing his shoulder with all of his weight into his more spindly opponent. Once. Twice. The third time is the charm that breaks the hold, and the (possibly still tender) Q-ribs. With a mighty heave, Jury sends the Single Letter Superstar to the opposite corner, chasing in right behind him with an avalanche splash that melts the colorful crusader completely in the corner.

Jury gathers up his prey, sending him inverted upright and then crashing back to the center of the ring with a jackknife. Steel pulls the beyond dazed Q to him feet, into a Bear hug. The ref begins to check the Single Letter Superstar for submission. Q hauls back with his right hand, chopping at Jury's temple. The strikes find their mark, and the man mountain gets a bit dazed, but his grip is unshaken. Until...

Jerry: POISON MIST!

Ace: That's one way to break a hold.

Q scrambles to the outside to catch his breath while Jury wipes at his eyes, his anger Quickly coming to a boiling point. Jury lets out a roar that could shake mountains into dust, causing Q to go wide-eyed. Jury rolls out of the ring, barely able to see from the blinding spray, and begins pursuing Q with vengeance on his mind. The Benny Hill chase song begins blaring over the airwaves as the two competitors circle around and through the ring, Q managing to stay just a few steps ahead of Jury the entire time.

Ace: Did I just hear someone in the audience scream, "Copyright infringement?"

Jerry: We could only hope.

Finally, Q slides into the ring, waiting as the now fuming Jury echoes his movement, ending it with a haphazard charge. Q hits a drop toe hold, sending Steel sprawling across the second rope. Wasting no time, Q Hits the opposite side for the rebound, drop kicking Jury on the head as he slips between the ropes. Q begins lifting the ring apron, searching for a weapon to use.

Jerry: Speaking of hope, is the Single Letter Superstar actually going hardcore?

Ace: Nope. Just a flyswatter. Someone really needs to explain to him how Underground rules work.

Q saunters over to Jury, winds back for a wide swing, and comes forth for a gentle tap across each cheek with the swatter. Nodding as if he had done some real damage, he drops the swatter and rolls back into the ring, yanking Jury into the center for the cover. He only gets a one count. Jury locks his arms around Q as he sits up, much to Q's horror. Without releasing his foe, Steel gets to his feet. Both men aren't standing for long, as Jury hits a belly-to-belly suplex, flattening Q.

Jury collects his deflated frenemy, launching him into the ropes and catching him with a spinning spine buster slam. Dissatisfied with that nasty impact, Steel repeats the process. This time, as Q returns to him, the slippery superstar uses the momentum to climb behind Jury for a crucifix slam. Jury falls to his back in a pinning predicament!

Jerry: Q is going for the cover again!

Ace: All he got out of that was a two count and an even more pissed Jury.

Jury sloughs Q's pin by launching the 200 pound man halfway across the ring. Unsure what to do, Q Quickly rolls out of the ring for another breather. Q steps over to the barricade, where he's offered a can of soda from a fan. Hesitant at first, he accepts the cool drink, popping it open as Jury rolls out of the ring. Steel peers under the apron, digging out a six foot aluminum ladder. He begins to charge at his foe, but Q halts him, holding up a single finger as he chugs the beverage.

Finally finishing the refreshment, Q thanks the kindness of the Faithful, but turns only to be greeted with a rather unforgiving ladder rung to the face that sends him head over heels over the ring steps. Jury grimaces cruelly, tossing the tool into the ring before gathering his opponent. Steel slings Q brutally into the ring steps a few times before finally deciding to put the match back in the ring.

Picking up the ladder, Jury drives the device into Q's ribcage. Hard. The Single Letter Superstar yowls in agony. Tossing down the ladder, Jury pulls Q to his feet, whipping him to the ropes, snap power slamming him onto the ladder on the rebound. Now Q sQueals as his hands shoot to his injured back, rolling off of the ladder.

Ace: Q sure isn't having a whole lot of fun out there.

Jerry: Jury wants the Undergound belt bad, and he isn't the type to lose sleep over anyone e hurts in the process.

Jury shows just enough mercy to pick up his foe and slam him down again, sans ladder this time. He goes for a pin, but Little only delivers a two count. Steel slaps the mat in frustration, pulling Q to his feet. Jury sticks Q's head between his legs before hoisting him in the air and reintroducing him to the mat back first.

Jerry: Looks like Steel might be going for the Sickest Kill.

Jury power bombs Q again. Q is barely able to stand as Jury goes for the trifecta of the move.

Ace: Holy cow! What a hurricanrana by Q!

Jerry: Desperation move by the Single Letter Superstar!

Both men are staring at the lights now. The zebra starts to count both men down.

1!

2!

Jury begins to stir just a bit.

3!

4!

5!

Now Q is shaking out the cobwebs

6!

Jury slowly rises to one knee.

7!

Q sprints to his feet, finding enough of a second wind to hit the ropes and give Jury the gift of a pair of feet to the face. Q drapes the ladder over Steel's chest, sticking the small end just under the bottom rope. Scaling the turnbuckles Q comes flying, splashing the foot end of the ladder, bending it in two over Jury's chest, reminding both men that aluminum hurts when used in that fashion.

Once again, the competitors are down, causing Little to start counting.

1!

2!

3!

Q is the first to move this time. Jury starts sluggishly smacking the ladder to get it off of him.

4!

5!

6!

Jury tosses off the ladder, clutching his own ribs now as he manages a half stance. Q is likewise to a knee, but neither man seems real interested in standing just yet.

7!

8!

Jerry: Q is up! As is Jury!

Ace: This has been one helluva battle.

Q walks over to kick the ladder out of the ring. Still groggy from their last clashing, Jury throws a fist at Q's head. Q answers with a chop to Jury's noggin. Then Jury clubs Q with another haymaker right. Q hits another knife edge chop, but this one has a bit less steam behind it. Jury punishes Q with a left jab, then another right, and another left, finishing with a flurry of fists finding their mark. Q wobbles, practically out on his feet. Steel spins Q around, lifting him up in the air on his shoulders. SICKEST KILL (II)! Jury goes for the pin! Little slides into position!

1!

2!

3!

Winner: Jury via Pinfall

“Your winner and NEW UNDERGROUND KING: JUUUURRYYYYYYYYY!!”

The crowd is to their feet cheering for the hard fought match. Little goes to retrieve the Underground belt. Q staggers to his feet, blocking the ref en route. He says something to the Little, who nods in agreement, handing Q the belt. The Single Letter Superstar walks sorely over to his opponent, handing him the belt. Jury furrows his brow at first, but gratefully accepts the belt from the now former Champ as Q raises his foe's arm in victory!

Jerry: Quite the display of sportsmanship from one of the fan favorites.

Ace: That's Q for ya! He might be strange, but he's a class act.

Jerry: Before we launch into the rest of the matches for tonight, I think it's time for...

“Glamorous,” by Fergie blasts over the speakers. Here comes DAN FIERCE! The crowd is on their feet! DAN is dressed in a sequined tuxedo jacket with tails and a ruffled white shirt tucked into his rainbow zebra print wrestling tights. He climbs the steps and ducks between the ropes before grabbing a mic from a tech. The music fades down as DAN puts the speaking phallus to his mouth. His trademark grin glows as he lets the crowd react before finally speaking.

Dan: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another edition of the Glam Slam!"

The crowd roars as the confetti cannons go off in each corner, spraying the ring with rainbow confetti.

Dan: "Now before I bring out my guest this evening I want to give you all what I hope is a special treat. This isn't the ONLY Glam Slam segment for Mass Destruction! However..."

The crowd cheers wildly at the prospect of another segment. Dan allows the fanfare to die a bit before speaking again.

Dan: "However, the only way you can see the whole thing is on our website www.pcwrestling.com. That's right! It's a WEB EXCLUSIVE with none other than the Force of Nature himself, Justin "Stormm" Michaels!"

There's a mixed reaction from the crowd, but overall, they approve.

Dan: "I do have one little teaser for you to enjoy until it gets posted. Roll the teaser, please."

Dan: "So... You think that others are dictating your career path? Is that it?"

Stormm: "You're damn right that's what I think. Somebody! Everybody! I've given more of my life to this company than I have any other in my career, and all of it has gone unappreciated. I had to buy the World title for anyone to see my worth when I got my shot, and they've ignored me ever since. Pure Class Wrestling would rather reward gimmicks over actual in-ring talent. Blue-haired elves, red-haired yokels, gothic shrews, and wanna-be rulers. Without all the bullshit politics behind the scenes, ain't a one of them could stand toe to toe with me, yet I'm the one being held down. PCW is the island of misfit toys for professional wrestling, and I just don't fit in."

Dan pauses as the clip ends, a fake dramatic gasp on his face, hamming it up for the crowd.

Dan: "Do you want to see more?"

The crowd cheers its delight, but Dan wiggles a finger negatively.

Dan: "Uh uh. Nope. This bitch don't kiss and tell. You'll have to see for yourself on our website. It'll be up by the time Mass Destruction VI is over. Anyhoo... My guest this evening is actually one of the influx of new talent that PCW has been fortunate enough to sign on just recently. I don't know much about him, so let's just bring him out. Please help me welcome: Kent Paris!

Outkast blows up eardrums with "Bombs over Baghdad” to cue a man from Nothing, Arizona. Kent Paris looks stiff in the jaw, wearing regular jeans decidedly not tight nor baggy and a sleeveless undershirt flattering his toned upper-body. There's thousands in attendance and millions watching around the world, so goes the soundbite, while Kent enters above the middle rope as he's seen his idols once do. When the music fades to a quiet abrupt end, it is then Kent fully hears the audience buzz like a busy mall, with him not at all paid attention. Anger flashes across his face but fortunately doesn't spell out the whiny thought of people bathroom breaking.

Dan: "So tell us a bit about yourself, Mack Daddy. What's a tall glass of water like you doing in a place like PCW?"

Kent: "Well, some viewers on twitter believe my hiring to be token, but that speculation got shut down after the hiring of some guy called Terrance. Either way that put me on edge to get out here and speak my mind on this representation I owe my community. Am I a black wrestler in an industry that largely marginalizes us to shucking and jiving roles? Sure. But I don't mean to sound like I'm talking down those making a career in them pigeonholes when I state my intention is to fight and be the sort of model others out there can relate to and invest in. This is a televised sport, you know. And a certain managerial figure felt my enthusiasm to be responsible and rise my game in Pure Class Wrestling."

Dan: "Let's put that point up for discussion then. Like you, I've had to show that I'm more than just another pretty face with a love for shoes, so I get the whole 'pigeonholed role' thing. How are you going to set yourself apart? What will you do to prove that you can be a great role model?

Kent: "People like winners. It's as simple as that. Steph Curry isn't renowned because of his wonderful floaters or the release of his shot. Cam Newton's freakish physique coupled with a great arm may be easily understood as a Lebron James' greatness. But how I'm talking about these men are samples of an enthusiast's understanding, not the world at large who hears the buzz and pops in for a look, and that's when they're hooked on guys winning off limitless 3s and rushing touchdowns. That flash makes the moment cool, like a knockout punch, but the guarantee of wins excite and grow your base."

Dan: "We can tell you have style in the closet."

Dan pauses, grinning widely at the camera. Kent confusedly looks down at his zipper.

Dan: "Get your mind out of the gutter. Anyhoo... What's your ring style? What can the PCW Faithful expect from Kent Paris?"

Kent Smirks.

Kent: "Uhm, not to expose myself too much..."

Dan: "Oh, honey. Don't stop yourself on my account."

Kent chuckles and ignores the statement.

Kent: "... but by the end of our next Trauma it'll be pretty obvious why I label myself a fighter."

Kent holds up two balled fists.

Kent: "Now I'm not limited to these, and that's why I'm not a boxer. I dish stomps and knees too. And I prefer it that way because I find I'm great at bruising people with the basics. Ain't it funny to remind your betters the 101?"

Dan: "In a volatile political climate like the one we have now, are you sure it's wise to play the part of the aggressive black man? Isn't that just another pigeonholed stereotype?"

Kent scrunches up.

Kent: "You're overthinking it. Aggression is one hundred percent necessary inside the ring. What else do you call it? Or how else do you even go about it? A pacifist shtick would be unique but..."

Kent scoffs.

Kent: "I don't even know how that works. Actually, I'm picturing Bugs Bunny nonchalantly tripping up Elmer Fudd and then choking him out... Eh, It's not what got me here anyway. What I've done to earn a spot on the roster is fight tooth and nail. Sorry to put it in tired phrasing, but a wordsmith has yet to update the idiom to fit my style of idiotizing."


Before Dan can respond Kent jumps back into the question.

Kent: "I'm going to isolate that 'volatile political climate' comment real quick because, you're right, I most of all should be careful with my image and such because I can already hear some people in the crowd bothered by my confidence, and I don't really care to go through the crap Cam went through. Yet let it be known that as a fighter in this wrestling industry I'm not chaining myself to a voiceless-yet-smiley sportsman persona because ya'll don't want to hear a black guy verbally style on others in my promos. I personify the fight game because I believe in its power. That doesn't mean I can't respect other people by purposefully selecting my words to mean what I gotta say. My fellow black men already do that every day, so, you know, I'm just taking it to a professional level."


Kent sighs in annoyance with himself.

Kent: "I'm rambling here. Obviously the image stuff is a big deal not just for me but, again, this goes back to my community and the people out there who understand the burden of responsibility. Dan, I asked you to interview me because I felt it is very, so incredibly important to publicly address this beforehand because I know in my gut that without a heads up these people aren't ready for what I'm bringing to Pure Class. It ain't political, despite the tone of this. It won't be merciless, because even a fighter has to have a heart. But it'll be bloody for God damn sure. There ain't no way around that. So it's only appropriate for my language to equally redden a jabroni's face."


Dan: "Well, we wish you well and are tickled pink to have you here. Any parting words for the guys back stage?"


Kent: "No. I don't know any of them yet. Well, I guess I should make clear that I don't mean to hospitalize anyone. It's just after so many punches and kicks people tend to blue and bleed, and pretty much the best way to stop that is to know when to quit."




Jerry Andrews: That’s one way to make an impact, don’t you think?

Ace Anderson: Definitely is. It’ll be interesting to see where he goes in the coming weeks!

Jerry Andrews: Right there with you - but back to tonight, we’ve got the Tag Team championship match coming up!

Ace Anderson: Psychedelica has DOMINATED since they won the tag belts at the return of the division.

Jerry Andrews: Not many tag teams these days...

Ace Anderson: Well, you’ve got the Shaw Brothers, which is who we’re seeing here tonight.

Jerry Andrews: Let’s see it then - ON with the show!

Match Three
Tag Team Title Championship Match
Psychedelica (Tag Team ©) vs The Shaw Brothers
Referee: Manny Cruz

Ace Anderson: Ohhh man, here we GO!

“Evil Ways” by Blues Saraceno roars out of the speakers to the furious boos of the PCW faithful as Alexander Shaw steps through the curtain with a smug smile on his face as always in hand as he walks down the ramp. He slowly makes his way down completely ignoring the fans that are still booing and jeering him and makes his way to the ring and walks up the steps and steps between the ring ropes and enters the ring as “Evil Ways” slowly fades out.

Jerry Andrews: There’s one half of The Shaw Brothers.

Ace Anderson: Yeah and the other half is much bigger.

Swamp Gas by Jim Johnston blares over the speakers as this mammoth of a man steps through the curtain. He walks slowly and methodically to the ring taking his time, he goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope and into the ring waiting for his opponent, as “Swamp Gas” slowly fades out.

Ace Anderson: Now time for the tag team champions of the Pure Class Wrestling world!

"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 stops at the pinnacle of the ramp and begins to waltz their way down to the ring. As PCW's premiere couple reaches the ring, Nathan assists Kelli up the steps and through the ropes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the Pure Class Wrestling World Tag Team Championship.

The crowd cheers.

Introducing first the challengers, at a total combined weight of six hundred and seven pounds….Alexander Shaw, Freddie Shaw, The Shaw Brothers!!!!

The crowd boos heavily to the two brothers.

“And their opponents, at a total combined weight of three hundred and eight pounds, they are the reigning and defending Pure Class Wrestling World Tag team Champions. ‘Dollface’ Kelli Starr and Nathan Saniti….PSYCHEDELICA!!!!”

The crowd goes crazy as their tag team champions names are heard by their ears.

Jerry Andrews: You wonder who the crowd favorites are Ace?

Ace Anderson: I know they love Kelli, but there was some boos coming for Nathan during their entrance.

Manny Cruz gets Kelli and Alexander out of the ring and calls for the bell.

DING DING DING DING!!!!

Alexander comes charging at Nathan and drops him with an opening match clothesline, Alexander is now stomping away at the mid-section of Nathan, who finally rolls his way out of the ring and onto the floor. Nathan looks up and sees that he rolled out to the wrong corner, as big Freddie looks down onto him and drops down to the floor and Nathan matches his move, by hoping onto the ring apron and sticks his tongue out at Freddie. Alexander comes with an elbow sending Nathan flying into the guardrails. Freddie is being told by the Manny to get back to his corner. Freddie is met by a colorful Kelli as she made her way over to make sure there would be no cheap shots. Freddie looks down at Kelli and smiles. He begins walking towards her, but Nathan is up and moves inbetween the two. Alexander has made his way to the floor and shoves a fist to the side of Nathan’s head. Manny comes out as Nathan is slung back into the ring and is telling both Kelli and Freddie to get back to their teams corners, they both move back to where they came from.

Ace Anderson: We’re getting a little heated here early in this match.

Jerry Andrews: It is for the championship, plus we all know how The Shaw Brothers have been doing here since they arrived in Pure Class Wrestling.

Alexander enters the ring and is met with a dropkick that sends him down. Alexander is back up and back down with another dropkick, a hip toss and a hurricanrana later and Alexander is rolling out of the ring and is talking with his brother. They both nod their heads and Alexander brings himself to the apron as Freddie makes his way over to Kelli. She sees the big man coming, as does Nathan. The Tag Team Champs are looking over to Freddie and Nathan is dropped from behind by a knee to the back. Kelli enters the ring and Manny Cruz has to hold her back. Freddie enters the ring and now is attacking Nathan like he owed them money. Kelli is going ballistic and fakes like she was going to exit the ring and then turns right around and charges at The Shaw Brothers and tries to fight them both off of Nathan. Saniti is back onto his feet and sends Freddie into Alexander, Alexander goes down and Freddie is stunned and is double team clothesline out of the ring and Psychedelica are on top of the world right now as they cleared out their opponents.

Jerry Andrews: They managed to get The Shaw Brothers cleared out of their space.

Ace Anderson: The match is still in its early stages Jerry. The question will be how long they can keep them out of it.

Psychedlica are daring the brothers to enter the ring and here they come, all four are fighting it out, Kelli gets a thumb to the eye and sent out of the ring. Nathan is outnumbered and pulled back to The Shaw corner. Freddie is out, but holding onto one half of the tag team champions. Alexander is choking Nathan and releases on a count of four. Freddie is tagged in and steps over the top rope and immediately turns the referee around as Kelli was coming into the ring. Manny stops her, while the ref’s back is turned; Nathan is getting the life choked out of him by the tag rope, courteous of one Alexander Shaw. Kelli is exited from the ring and turns Manny around to see what is going on. Alexander quickly lets go of the tag rope and raises his hands in the air, trying not to get the referee to call for a disqualification. Nathan is gasping for air, as he struggles to make it to his feet. A boot hits him and he stumbles into the ropes, Freddie sends him into the far ropes and catches him with a powerslam, but Manny isn’t going for the count, as he is trying to tell one of the Shaw’s something. Freddie is dropped with a running bulldog from Kelli, whom made a blind tag when Nathan was sent to the ropes close to the champ’s corner.

Jerry Andrews: There’s something that I didn’t think I’d see, Kelli taking down Freddie Shaw.

Ace Anderson: She showed great tag team awareness, making a blind tag on Nathan, to set up that opening, now she just has to capitalize.

Kelli heads up to the top rope and hits her sugar high double axehandle to Freddie, who barely made it up to his knees, before being knocked back down. Elbow drops follow, as Alexander is trying to enter the ring and ends up on the floor as Nathan comes across the ring and drives in an elbow. Nathan and Kelli pick up Freddie and slam him hard to the mat with a double team bodyslam, followed by double elbow drops, Nathan grabs ahold of Kelli and lifts her up in a suplex, but releases her at the apex of it and she comes down with a leg drop over the throat of Freddie. Kelli goes for the cover and gets a two count off the big man. Nathan is out of the ring, Kelli starts to work on the knee of Freddie, with a few elbows and knee drops to the inside of his knee. Kelli’s pulling on the leg, to snap the knee like she wants to take it home with her. A tag is made to Nathan and he grabs the free leg of Freddie and the two make a wish that Freddie didn’t want to answer. Nathan smiles to the crowd and then starts to bunny hop a half circle around Freddie and stops to land a standing moonsault. Freddie kicks out on a two count. Nathan grabs the left leg that Kelli was working on and locks in a leg scissors, near the Psychedelica corner and reaches up to tag Kelli. Dollface wastes no time in making it up to the top rope and comes down with a double stomp onto the leg of Freddie, while Nathan released his hold and was holding onto the ankle.

Ace Anderson: That’s what they need to do to Freddie Shaw, work on his leg.

Jerry Andrews: Smart wrestling by the tag champs.

Kelli is trying to bring up Freddie onto his feet, Freddie plays along and then grabs her by the throat and viciously choke slams her down. Freddie can barely hold himself up, from the damage to his knee. Freddie takes a few moments, to work out the knee and then has a sick smile on his face as he brings Kelli up to her feet by the roots of her hair. He doubles Kelli over and applies a waistlock and brings her high into the air and steps back to watch her come crashing down to the mat from a jacknife powerbomb. Freddie brings her back up and locks in a full nelson and brings her up into the air and slams her down. Nathan is trying to come into the ring, but to no avail. Freddie is smiling as Alexander is laughing over in the Shaw corner. Freddie feeling cocky, places his foot onto Kelli, but she gets her right shoulder up on a two count. Kelli yells out in pain as Freddie just decides to drop his knee into the middle of Kelli’s spine. Nathan is SCREAMING for Kelli to get up and tag him. Freddie is mocking Nathan with a ‘get up Kelli, Kelli get up’ before smirking. Nathan climbs up to the middle rope and try’s to draw Freddie in, Freddie is falling of the trick. Alexander is trying to warn Freddie, but he cannot hear him. Alexander comes into the ring and is cutoff by Manny and Kelli is up and hits a low blow onto Freddie and drops the big man down.

Ace Anderson: It’s no steel chair to that region, but it’ll get the job done.

Jerry Andrews: I could have gone the rest of my life without having to be reminded about that.

Kelli is back down, trying to recover from the onslaught that was given to her by the powerful big man. Both start to crawl to their respective corners. Kelli drops down to the mat, Freddie is closest and makes a tag and Alexander explodes into the ring and nails Nathan with a fist as he had his hand extended out for the tag and didn’t pay attention to the action. Kelli is met with an elbow drop to the back of the neck. Alexander brings her up to her feet and slings her into the ropes and nearly decapitates her with a running big boot. Kelli is brought up to her feet and has to be held up by Alexander and he places her into the turnbuckles and gives out an evil laugh and spins around and misses a discs clothesline as Kelli drops down and fast pace crawls to Nathan and makes a tag. Nathan comes into the ring as a house of fire, a punch to Alexander, a shot to Freddie who was resting on the apron. Alexander is up and is back body dropped to the mat and then dropkicked. Nathan catches Alexander running in with a hip toss and turns it into a powerslam and gets a quick two count.

Jerry Andrews: Nathan has turned the match around.

Ace Anderson: Psychedelica was lucky Kelli was able to move out of the way and make the tag.

Nathan sees Freddie trying to come into the ring and meets him with a dropkick. Freddie is backed up to the ropes and Nathan is lining up for another dropkick, but is assisted by Kelli, the double dropkick sends the bigger brother outside of the ring. Alexander comes running in and is met with a double back body drop over the top rope and lands hard onto the floor. Kelli takes a top rope and Nathan takes a top rope, both take flight at the sametime and Kelli nails a high cross body onto Alexander and Nathan catches and brings the big giants momentum over the guardrails and into the crowd. Psychedelica re-enter the ring with the fans going crazy and the two look at each other and high five. The crowd loves it. Alexander is up and onto the apron, Psychedelica grab ahold of him and bring him back into the ring with a double suplex. Kelli exits the ring and Nathan gets a two count. Nathan tags Kelli back in and brings up Alexander and sends him into the ropes as Kelli hits the far cross ropes and Nathan catches, spins and drills Alexander with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker and holds him there as Kelli comes in with a legdrop, that sends Alexander down to the mat. Dollface for the cover

...1!

...2!

...3!!!

Winner: Psychedelica via Pinfall; Dollface pins Alexander Shaw

DING DING DING DING!!!!

“Here are your winners and STILL Pure Class Wrestling World Tag Team Champions….”Dollface” Kelli Starr, Nathan Saniti…. PSYCHEDLICA!!!!”

Manny hands over the tag belts to Psychedelica and they are raised into the air and the two embrace for a hard fought victory, pink and green sparks shooting from the turnbuckles.

Jerry Andrews: I did have my doubts about them walking out as the tag team champions, but they pulled it off.

Ace Anderson: It was tough, very tough, but they are still the tag team champions of the world.

The announcers fall silent as "Gold on the Ceiling" by The Black Keys blares out over the P.A. system, Ace shooting to his feet oblivious to Jerry’s glare.

Jerry Andrews: Seriously, man. SIT. DOWN.

Ace Anderson: He’s the PREZ! We should stand UP!

Jerry Andrews: *muttered incoherent*

PCW’s acting President, Michael “Mr. Showtime” Wryght heads onto the stage, microphone in hand, the muffled pops of his applause thumping over the speakers before he brings the mic up.

“Great show, you four, REALLY great show. I’m just thrilled to see you guys keep that belt because - well - it’s the last time you’re going to be defending them for a while.”

The crowd reacts with a mix of boos, cheers, and confusion, Kelli moving towards the ropes with a bewildered look on her face whereas Nathan looks angry.

“It’s just - well, this isn’t the Underground. This is the tag division. We can’t have our tag team champions, representatives of Pure Class Wrestling, engaging in unsavory behavior ill befitting the division they run in.”

Ace Anderson: Well, they DO need to follow the rules, so -

Jerry Andrews: Are you serious right now? This sounds like he’s going to... I can’t even think it.

Ace Anderson: He’s right though, and he’s the PRESIDENT.

“I think it’s time for the Pure Class Wrestling tag division to once again take a hiatus.”

The crowd explodes into noise, mostly boos and jeers with a couple of catcalls sprinkled here and there. Kelli looks frustrated and crestfallen, whereas Nathan is beginning to look nothing short of murderous.

“It’s okay, Nathan. It’s not just you, and it’s not because you stuck me with hatpins. I’m just - I gotta do what’s right by the company, you know? Look around you. Look who you just beat to hold these titles. There’s no one HERE, Nathan. You two are running a dead division now, and it’s time for it to go away ‘til we have more tag teams. Now, I know -”

He pauses, that politician’s gleaming smile firmly in place as the crowd jeers.

“- I know you’re upset. I would be too. But just think! As soon as the belts came back, you WON them. And now, with them being retired again? You STILL won. You held them the entire time, the UNDEFEATED tag team champions of Pure Class Wrestling!”

Showtime nods and smiles as though the crowd were cheering for him, giving a jaunty wave and heading backstage.

Jerry Andrews: Oh, come on!

Ace Anderson: Well, they may have lost a match or two, but never a title defense. He’s not THAT wrong.

Jerry Andrews: That’s not what I’m talking about!

Nathan steps forward, his glare boring holes into Showtime’s disappearing back, but Kelli’s hand on his arm seems to calm him somewhat. “Madness" by Muse plays out over the speakers as Kelli retrieves their belts. Buckling Nathan’s tag belt around his waist, she likewise dons hers and the two leave the ring, walking up the ramp as they entered: Pure Class Wrestling’s Tag Team Champions.

Jerry Andrews: So, that’s it then? No more tag division?

Ace Anderson: Not for a little while, it seems. Don’t make that face - it’ll come back someday. It always does! What’ve we got next for tonight?

Jerry Andrews: Next up is the North American Championship match! Alexa Black is going head-to-crazy-head with Non Compos Mentis!

Ace Anderson: Thoughts on this one?

Jerry Andrew: Nope. That’s a whole lotta crazy to try and pick out a winner.

Match Four
North American Title Championship Match
Non Compos Mentis (North American ©) vs Alexa Black
Referee: Charles Lim

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the PCW North American championship!”

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.

“Introducing first, residing in Los Angeles, California….”

Alexa Black steps through the curtain her face lit up with a wicked smile by her side on the left is her manager Alexander Shaw and on her right her huge bodyguard Frederick Shaw. She walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back their hatred of this evil woman. She mocks the crowd and badmouth fans on the way using various profanity which has to be bleeped out. She sees a kid at ringside and rips up his sign with a laugh.

“…. ALEXA BLACK!”

As she continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing.
She reaches the ring and Alexa climbs up on the ring apron. She 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.

Jerry Andrews: Alexa Black looking to win her first PCW championship in this match here tonight.

Ace Anderson: If anyone can take on the unpredictability and ruthlessness of Non Compos Mentis, it’s Alexa Black!

The music fades out as Alexa stays in the ring waiting for her next victim while The Shaw brothers remain at ringside in her corner for the match.

“And her opponent….”

Suddenly the lights go down, followed by the screech of the PA system being wrenched into action with heavily synthesized tones. The Tron stutters through black and white images of urban decay, throwing weird shadows across the crowd. The repetitive tones last for ten seconds until more join them into a strict beat and letters begin to emerge from the chaos on the big screen…

“N… C… M”

… And the arena erupts with the heavily synthesized tones and hard bass of "Through This Pain (You Heal)" by Faderhead, combined with a shock of intense white strobe lights that punctuate the darkness. As the beat continues, a single spotlight shines into the crowd and finds Non Compos Mentis himself in the stands! Over the roar of the PCW fans the vocals kick in, and the ‘Born Psycho’ walks intensely through the crowd toward the ring.

“I disrespect you, dissect you, reject you,
The second you start to speak,
I try to see you, low-key you, and be you,
But you are way too boutique for me

You celebrate the world's mistakes
Cause you're so idle, you can't fail
You celebrate your worst mistakes
Cause you're an "idol" - you can't feel”

Mentis hops the security barrier and begins to walk around the ring, taking his time to look over the thousands of fans in attendance before turning toward the ring.

“...residing in Schenectady, New York…..”

“I can't heal you from the pain (Through this pain you heal)
And I can't keep you entertained (Boredom makes you feel)
I can't wake you like cocaine (Cause you're deep in sleep)
And I can't keep you entertained (Through this pain you heal)”

“… he is the PCW North American Champion: NON COMPOS MENTIS!”

Slowly he climbs onto the apron and steps through the ropes into the ring. As the vocals of Faderhead climax the PA system shuts off with a jarring immediacy and the lights return to normal, leaving only the sound of the PCW Faithful. Mentis removes his jacket and throws it into his corner, then readies himself for the match.

Match Four
North American Title Championship Match
Non Compos Mentis (North American ©) vs Alexa Black
Referee: Charles Lim

Jerry Andrews: This is not going to be pretty, folks.

The referee holds the title aloft and then hands it to the timekeeper. After a brief moment, the bell rings and Alexa Black immediately charges across the ring at NCM. He’s caught off guard as Alexa swings wildly at him with right and left hands.

Jerry Andrews: Woah, Alexa Black is on fire to start this match!

Ace Anderson: She really wants that title!

NCM is backed into the corner and he covers up. The referee calls for a break, but Alexa ignores him. She keeps swinging as the ref starts to count.

Jerry Andrews: If Alexa isn’t careful, she’s going to get herself disqualified in the first few minutes of the match!

Alexa finally turns her attention to the official, screaming at him as he reprimands her. This gives Non Compos Mentis the opportunity to strike. He unloads on Alexa with a series of huge forearms that send her staggering. He then takes a step back and drops her with a big clothesline.

Ace Anderson: When you are in the ring with NCM, you can’t afford to take your focus off of him for even a second! He will make you pay for it.

Alexa gets up from the mat. NCM approaches, but she’s tackles him down to the mat, unloading on him with rights and lefts. Alexa stands up and she begins to stomp away on her opponent. NCM rolls out of the ring to stop the assault.

Jerry Andrews: Veteran move there by NCM.

Non Compos Mentis doesn’t have much time to compose himself as Alexa Black goes flying through the ropes with a suicide dive!

Ace Anderson: Woah! That was unexpected!

NCM is sent crashing into the barrier at ringside. Alexa Black stands up and she stomps on NCM. She then pulls him up, only to send him crashing back into the barrier shoulder-first.

Jerry Andrews: Alexa Black pulling out all the stops in an attempt to win her first PCW title here tonight!

Alexa pulls him up once more. This time NCM grabs onto her and he tosses her over his head and right into the barrier!

Ace Anderson: I think Alexa Black’s head just cracked into that barrier.

Jerry Andrews: What a sickening thud!

NCM slowly gets to his feet. He rolls into the ring to break the count, then heads back outside.

Jerry Andrews: NCM possibly could have got a count out win here and retained his title, but it looks like he wants to do more damage to Alexa Black.

Ace Anderson: He’ll have to be careful with the Shaw Brothers lurking around out there, though.

NCM pulls up Alexa and he throws her into the steel steps at ringside. He then lifts her up and drives her down onto the steps with a big powerslam.

Ace Anderson: What a move! Alexa’s back could be broken!

Jerry Andrews: She’s in a bad way for sure!

NCM pulls her up again. This time he rolls her into the ring. NCM with a cover:
1….
2….

Jerry Andrews: Kick out by Alexa Black!

NCM gets to his feet. He pulls up Alexa once more and throws her into the corner. He runs at her, but Black gets her feet up and she hits him with a double boot right to the face. Alexa now stands on the second turnbuckle and she leaps off, hitting NCM with a big shoulder tackle. Black now mounts her opponent and she begins to drill him in the face with a series of strong forearm shots.

Ace Anderson: There’s a rage inside Alexa Black that can only be described as insane.

Jerry Andrews: There’s a lot of that going around PCW. I mean, look, it’s not like NCM is a Boy Scout or anything.

Ace Anderson: Maybe he was… like, as a kid?

Jerry Andrews: Well, he’s not right now.

Ace Anderson: Sure, but he’s a grown man now. That would be pretty weird if he was still a Boy Scout.

Jerry Andrews: Come on, you know what I mean!

Ace Anderson: Yeah, but I’m just saying….

Jerry Andrews: Okay, focus on the match!

Ace Anderson: Do you know what’s trending on Twitter right now?

Jerry Andrews: I assure you I do not care.

Ace Anderson: Oh yeah….. Ummm... Me neither…..

Alexa Black pulls NCM up and she drills him with a series of right hands, backing him into the corner.

Ace Anderson: …..Hashtag NCMversusAlexaBlackForThePCWNorthAmericanChampionship.

Jerry Andrews: That’s a really long hashtag.

Ace Anderson: Hashtag sorry.

Jerry Andrews: Please stop.

NCM gets his hands up to block the assault and then he returns fire, unloading on Alexa Black wight right hands of his own! Alexa staggers backwards. NCM rebounds off of the ropes and he nearly cuts her in half with a vicious spear!

NCM with a cover now:
1….
2….

Jerry Andrews: NO! I thought that was it!

Ace Anderson: Alexa Black gets the shoulder up before three!

NCM pulls Alexa up, gets behind her and….

Jerry Andrews: German suplex!

NCM holds on and delivers another German suplex. He pulls Alexa up one more time, but she breaks free and slips behind him. Black hits Mentis with a big forearm shot to the head. She then shoves him from behind, causing him to crash into the turnbuckle sternum-first.

Jerry Andrews: Alexa Black gives herself a moment to recover from those brutal German suplexes.

NCM turns and slowly steps out of the corner takes a step back and….

Ace Anderson: Facebreaker kick! A cover!

1….
2…..

Jerry Andrews: NCM kicks out!

Alexa Black pulls Mentis up and she hits him with a big forearm to the face, staggering him. NCM returns the favour with a shot of his own. Alexa fires back. NCM returns. Alexa. NCM. Alexa. NCM. Alexa.

Ace Anderson: These two are just unloading on one another right now! This is great!

Alexa Black breaks up the party with a big knee to the stomach. She grabs NCM by the head, but he breaks free and takes Alexa Black down with a big lariat! She is slow to get up but, when she does, he drives her into the mat with a spinebuster! NCM sets up Alexa Black now….

Jerry Andrews: Powerbomb!

Ace Anderson: A cover!

1….
2….

Jerry Andrews: Alexa Black grabs the bottom rope at the last second!

Ace Anderson: Great presence of mind by Alexa Black there!

Both competitors slowly get to their feet. Alexa Black kicks NCM in the knee, dropping him down to one knee. She then delivers a drive-by kick right to the skull!

Ace Anderson: A cover! Is that enough?

1….
2….

Jerry Andrews: No! NCM kicks out!

Alexa Black pulls NCM up, but he drives his shoulder into her midsection, doubling her over. Mentis now hits her with a big DDT, but he remains down on the mat.

Jerry Andrews: NCM just hit a huge move, but it doesn’t look like he has the energy to go for a cover here.

Ace Anderson: This has been a grueling, hard-hitting match.

Finally, NCM rolls Black over and covers her:
1….
2….

Alexa Black kicks out.

Jerry Andrews: The time it took NCM to recover gave Alexa Black the energy she needed to kick out and this match is still going!

Non Compos Mentis uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet. He hits Alexa Black with a knee drop. He then slowly stands up again and stomps on the challenger. Again. And again. And again.

Jerry Andrews: NCM just trying to stomp the life out of Alexa Black now!

NCM with an elbow drop now. And another and another and another. He then goes for a cover:
1…
2…

Alexa Black kicks out!

Jerry Andrews: Alexa won’t stay down. She wants this victory.

Ace Anderson: But so does NCM! Something's got to give!

NCM pulls Alexa Black up. She kicks him in the stomach. She then drives the point of her elbow into the back of his head as he doubles over. Alexa Black now hits him with a knee strike to the face, sending him staggering into the corner. She walks towards him, but NCM explodes out of the corner with a clothesline! Alexa hits the mat hard. He pulls her up once again, but again she breaks free, striking Mentis in the face with a forearm shot.

Ace Anderson: This is just a FIGHT. A pure, knock down drag out fight. I love it!

Alexa swings again, but NCM ducks the shot. He then spins and hits her in the side of the head with a spinning back fist!

Jerry Andrews: Blunt Trauma!

Alexa hits the mat hard. NCM with a cover….
1….
2….

Jerry Andrews: Somehow Alexa Black kicks out!

NCM stands up and he waits for his opponent to rise. She does and she charges at him. He grabs her…

Ace Anderson: Dum Dum Drop!

Alexa Black hits the mat hard. NCM wastes no time pulling her up and….

Jerry Andrews: Fractured Mind!!!

Non Compos Mentis with a cover:
1….
2….
3!!!

Jerry Andrews: NCM retains!

Ace Anderson: What a battle!

NCM slowly gets to his feet and he’s handed the PCW North American Championship. He raises the belt above his head with one hand.

Winner, and still PCW North American Champion: Non Compos Mentis via pinfall

NCM looks out at the crowd when suddenly…..

Jerry Andrews: What the hell!?

Ace Anderson: Baby Jenks!

Jenks rushes into the ring! She’s holding a barbed wire-covered baseball bat!

Jerry Andrews: What the hell is she holding!? Get her out of here!

NCM cuts her off with an attack, stunning Jenks with a series of shots and causing her to drop the bat. The two begin to trade shots, with NCM managing to fight off his attacker.

Ace Anderson: NCM fighting back, but he just went through a tough match! He can’t have much left in the tank!

Suddenly, Alexa Black cracks him in the spine with the back!

Jerry Andrews: My God!

NCM crumbles to the mat, holding his spine. Alexa Black stands over him laughing, holding the bat by her side. Baby Jenks smiles at her and the two begin to stomp away on Mentis. Jenks then pulls him up and throws him into the corner.

Ace Anderson: Okay, somebody has to stop this.

Alexa Black charges at him with the bat, but NCM gets his feet up and he kicks her in the face. The crowd cheers as he bolts out of the corner, taking down Baby Jenks with a clothesline. Alexa charges at him again and the two begin trading shots.

Jerry Andrews: The battle between these two isn’t over! There’s still unloading on one another!

Finally, PCW security rushes into the ring to break up the chaos. They manage to drag Alexa and Jenks out of the ring while the medical team tries to check on NCM, who doesn’t seem too intent on sticking around for a full medical evaluation.

Ace Anderson: Look in NCM’s eyes. He’s not happy.

Jerry Anderson: Well obviously not. But look in Alexa Black’s eyes. She wants more blood.

Ace Anderson: I’d rather not look in her eyes. She gives me the creeps.




The house lights fall to darkness and smoke fills the stage as 'New Divide' by Linkin Park erupts over the PA system. A single spotlight lands atop the ramp and a yellow strobe starts going off over the crowd. Suddenly 'The Cream of The Crop' Camron Creed rushes out of the darkness onto the spotlight illuminated stage. He is wearing a black poncho style 'C2' t-shirt. Creed throws his arms into the air and yells at the top of his voice; a meaningless gesture lost to the sound of the sold out PCW crowd.

Jerry Andrews: Who the hell is that?

Ace Anderson: That right there is Camron Creed, one of newly signed PCW Superstars!

Jerry Andrews: and what is he doing out here now? We were expecting the International title match next!

Ace Anderson: I'm not sure Jerry, I didn't expect him to debut until next week.


Creed starts down the ramp toward the ring rolling his shoulders and shaking his limbs loose as he goes, readying himself for what awaits. At the bottom of the ramp Creed sprints forward, sliding under the bottom rope and skidding into the middle of the ring on his knees. As Creed climbs back to his feet he moves toward the ropes and calls for a microphone as his entrance music fades and the houselights return to normal.

Creed takes a few moments to find his comfort zone in the PCW ring, soaking in the atmosphere of an American crowd for the first time in years. A small smile spreads over his lips and slowly he raises the microphone to his lips.

"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Camron Creed and I am 'The Cream Of The Crop' the tip of the top, the mutha fukka who's better than any other!!!... and for those that do know me; and I know there's at least one man in the back that does, I'm baaaccckkkk!!”

The crowd cheer loudly for the new superstar as he struts around the ring grinning. As the crowd quietens down, Creed lifts the microphone back to his lips.

"I have spent the last few years of my life building a name for myself on the Japanese touring circuit, electrifying fans in the land of the rising sun, honing my skills, paying my dues and climbing that ladder; all the while just waiting for the day that the phone would ring and I would once again get to return to my home land and perform in front of the best crowds in the world, and now that I'm here....”

Creed delves a hand into his pocket and pulls out what is clearly a boarding pass for an airplane. He grins before crushing it in his hand and throwing it out into the crowd.

"I'm not going ANYWHERE!!"

The crowd cheer and those near the barricade scramble for the discarded scrap of paper.

"So PCW, enjoy the rest of your night. Make the most of Mass Destruction... Because next week at Trauma a new era begins and I will prove why I am The Cream of The PCW Crop.”

'New Divide' by Linkin Park hits the PA once more. Creed drops to the mat and rolls under the bottom rope to the outside, leaving the microphone on the ring apron behind him. The crowd cheer loudly and Camron strikes the outstretched hands of fans as he makes his way up the ramp toward the back.

Ace Anderson: Well hey, if there ever was a time to make your presence known, one of the largest shows of the PCW calendar is certainly the place to do it!

Jerry Andrews: No arguments there! But we gotta keep moving - next up we have the International Championship featuring reigning champ Mr. Showtime -

Ace Anderson: PRESIDENT Showtime.

Jerry Andrews: Next up we have the current champ up against challenger Crazy Boy!

Match Five
International Title Championship Match
Michael "Mr. Showtime" Wryght (International ©) vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
Referee: Nigel Gale

The following contest is for one fall and is for the International Championship!

The crowd pops its approval.

Introducing first, the challenger. Hailing from Biloxi, Mississippi, and weighing in at 227 pounds... Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith!

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 arena 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. He walks down the entryway and climbs the ropes of the ring. He bounces around the ropes a few times, pumps his fist in the air one last time and waits for his opponent to come.

And now introducing the International Champion and the President of PCW, Weighing in at 253 pounds, "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght!

"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 wipes 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 locked making a “W.” He pulls his arms down setting off some small pyros behind him, as the lights return to normal.

Ace: I wonder if Crazy Boy would still have a job is he actually wins?

Jerry: You don't think Wryght would fire someone for winning against him, do you?

Ace: Ever heard the term, "At-will employee?"

The ref calls for the bell. Wryght and Smith circle each other to size the other up. The lock up in the center, Showtime using his slight weight advantage to shove Cray Boy to the corner. Nigel Gale calls for a break, starting a count. Wryght backs away long enough to get the zebra to quit his braying and deliver some chops to the chest of the Crazy One. Finally, Wryght slings Smith to the opposite turnbuckle with authority. He follows Tyrone in, but the high-flyer scampers up and over the ropes to avoid impact. To add to the momentum, Crazy Boy pulls Showtime's head down into the top turnbuckle.

As Showtime's head snaps back from the blow, the quick acting Crazy Boy shimmies back into the ring, hitting Michael with a neck breaker. The overzealous Smith goes for an early cover, but barely gets a one count. He yanks the champ to his feet, burying a knee into the Golden Child's midsection, doubling him over. Rushing the ropes, CB springs back for a scissor kick, but Showtime ducks out of the way. Wryght chop blocks the leg with all the weight on it in a single, fluid motion, driving Smith to meet the mat.

Michael wastes no time in grabbing the leg, contorting it, attempting to ground the high flyer. He wrenches in the torture as Gale checks CB for a submission. No dice. Wryght slams the knee into the mat a couple of times before locking in a figure four leg lock. The ref checks CB again, but the Crazy One isn't giving up. He struggles through the agony, scooting himself back enough to be able to reach the rope for the break. Showtime keeps the hold in place for as long as he can before breaking away.

Jerry: Showtime has the right idea. Keep Crazy Boy on the floor.

Ace: He's one of the best technical wrestlers we have for a reason.

Jerry: Suck up.

Ace: What? I like my paycheck, thank you.

Wryght pulls CB out of the corner, greeting him with a short-arm clothesline. Grabbing a fistful of golden locks, Showtime whips Crazy Boy to the ropes, attempting another clothesline off the rebound, but CB ducks under the first attempt. A second go at it is met with the same results. Tyrone bounces off the third time, delivering a pair of boots to Michael's well insured face.

As Showtime reels backwards, CB rushes him with a cross body block that send both men spilling out onto the floor. The pair lie there pondering the rafters as the ref begins to count them both out.

1!

2!

CB is the first to get up, snatching Showtime by the scalp and introducing him to the ring post.

3!

Smith rolls inside to shake the pain out of his leg as he lay in wait for Wryght to get back into the ring. He stalks Michael as he shakes the clouds from his head. Showtime climbs up on the ring apron as CB charges, but drops the Crazy One throat first across the top rope for his efforts. Wryght slinks back into the ring, giving Tyrone several boots to the back of the head in a fit of rage. Once he gets his temper back under control, he pulls up the nearly unconscious CB, sending him into a corner. Showtime charges in, smashing CB with a spinning European uppercut.

Wryght attempts to send CB to the opposite corner, but Smith reverses it, following closely with a jumping leg lariat. As Showtime begins to topple face first, CB assists gravity in the motion. CB pulls Michael closer to the center of the ring. He scampers up the turnbuckles, quickly flying off with a frog splash before Wryght can recuperate. Without hesitation, Crazy Boy leaps off of the second rope, landing a lionsault.

Jerry: Crazy Boy hooks the leg!

Ace: NO! Only a two count!

CB grabs his head in disbelief. Scrambling to a vertical base, he yanks his foe onto his shoulders. Crazy Airlines - Destination Samoa! Another pin attempt only gets another two count. Smith rushes to the corner for some altitude.

Ace: Is he going for the Crazy Spin?

Jerry: NO ONE HOME!

Showtime stands up like a man possessed, a glare of determination in his eyes. Spinning CB over onto his stomach, he finds the knee he was working on earlier in the match and spikes it into the mat a few times. Without letting the leg go, Wryght pulls Smith to his feet, only to pull him back down with a series of single leg takedowns. He cinches in a half Boston crab, pulling back with all of his weight in the small of the Crazy One's back.

Gale asks CB if he wants to quit, but he's not having it. Growing impatient, Showtime releases the hold, gathering him up, but CB clasps Michael's head to the back of his own and drops down. Showtime staggers back as CB runs the ropes for a cross body block, but the President catches his underling, dropping him over his knee once, twice, and finishes it off with a sidewalk slam. Not giving him a moment's rest, Wryght grapevines the legs and inverts the Crazy One.

Jerry: The Spotlight!

Ace: This is it!

Showtime kneels down to add pressure. Crazy Boy screams in pain as the zebra checks on him. Smith tries his best, but the pain is just too excruciating. He finally relents, hammering one fist on the mat in tap out.

Winner: Michael “Mr. Showtime” Wryght via Submission

Your winner and STILL International Champion: "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght!

Jerry Andrews: God DAMMIT, Ace, SIT DOWN!

Ace Anderson: You can’t tell me what to do. YOU’RE not the President!

Jerry Andrews: Oh for the love of -

Jerry’s words are cut off as The Black Keys ”Gold on the Ceiling” blasts out of the speakers, Showtime giving Crazy Boy a hand up and manly pat on the back before lifting his International Championship up high as gold sparks rain from the fixtures above. Both men take their leave of the ring, a disappointed but resolute Crazy Boy preceeding the victorious Showtime into the back.

Suddenly the lights go down in the arena, putting it into darkness. The only illumination, beyond the random flashes of the faithful’s cameras, is the PCWTron. Upon its black background, the white text simply reads:

NO ONE CAN STOP ME!

#DAMNNATION

After a couple of minutes the text fades away and the arena lights come back up.

Jerry Andrews: What the hell was that?

Ace Anderson: Was that a typo? A typo at a Pay Per View!? Who the hell is editing this crap!?

Jerry Andrews: Unless it was Damn Nation instead of Damnation? You can’t have spaces in hashtags, you know.

Ace Anderson: I still think it looks unprofessional.

Jerry Andrews: Says the guy who can’t even stay seated.

Ace Anderson: He’s the PRESIDENT!

Jerry Andrews: I’m not having this conversation again - and it looks like I don’t have to! We’re just about to head in to the match we’ve ALL been waiting for: THE MAIN EVENT!

Ace Anderson: The entire show has been building to this point when our PCW World Champion Grimm will be defending his title against Justin Kaard!

Jerry Andrews: I can’t WAIT to see this - LET’S GO!

As has been anticipated for much of the night, a familiar and widely dreaded percussion taps its way out of the speakers. Sparse and devastating, it resonates throughout the arena and is soon joined by a droning, distorted bass line. At that, A Perfect Circle’s ”Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” stomps out of the speakers and marches through the aisles. The drums, the distortion, the cries of the fallen – 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. PCW World Title slung over his right shoulder, microphone already clutched in his left, Grimm’s black boots bear the marks of a thousand kicks. The knees of his dark green pants grow threadbare from the wear and tear of the Science of Eight Limbs. And tonight, the Hanging Tree of Hangtown on the front of his black shirt is woven from intricate Celtic knot work. 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 and scatters off the belt. 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 while still balancing the title on his shoulder, he casts his gaze out over the crowd, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down, steps to the middle of the ring, and brings the microphone to his mouth.

“There is an expectation as PCW World Champion to deliver the occasional State of the Title address. To either thank the greatest fans in the world for this opportunity and for standing behind me, or to curse your very existence and insult everything you hold dear.”

Grimm shrugs his shoulders to steady the belt.

“However, I prefer to act like I’ve been here before…because I have. Several times, in fact. So I’m not going to waste your time with any pandering or abuse. I haven’t come out here to disparage or challenge anyone. There is only one reason I have EVER come out here. And that is to fight.”

Grimm turns his attention to the top of the ramp.

“So come on out here, Justin Kaard. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Grimm hands the microphone to the official…and waits.

Main Event
World Championship Match
Grimm © vs. “The Adrenaline King” Justin Kaard
Referee: Eric Russo

[/i][/b][/div]

Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the PCW World Championship! Introducing first...

The arena darkens as the stage fills with a heavy white smoke. “Light 'Em Up” by Fallout Boy begins as the lights strobe through the smoke, teasing a shrouded figure standing on the stage.

"From Seattle, Washington...Weighing in at one hundred and seventy-five pounds and standing five feet, nine inches...”

An explosion erupts from the stage, clearing the smoke as the lights come back up, leaving Justin Kaard posing on the stage, stance staggered with one arm raised in the air.

“The Adrenaline King”...Justin...KAAAAARRRRDDDD!”

Kaard strides purposely down the ramp, stopping about half way down as he pumps his fists into the air.

Jerry Andrews: The Adrenaline King is prepared to fly high against the World Champion here tonight.

Ace Anderson: But I know from personal experience that going up against Grimm is as tall a task of any. If Kaard doesn't bring his A-Game tonight, it's over before it even starts.

Continuing down the ramp, Justin 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 sprinting across the rings.

Justin steps up, balancing himself on the second and third rope while pointing across the audience. Bouncing with the ropes, he jumps back into the ring and waits for Grimm to surrender the belt so the match can begin.

Grimm slowly raises the belt into the air, right into the face of Justin Kaard before handing it to the official. Eric takes the title and raises it high in the air, behind Grimm and Kaard's standoff.

Jerry Andrews: That's what it's all about, ladies and gentlemen; The PCW World Championship.

Ace Anderson: To be called the PCW World Champion...there's no better title in all of sports entertainemtna and professional wrestling.

Eric hands the title to Sasha at ringside and then calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

As soon as the bell sounds, Grimm and Justin begin right away with rights and lefts to one another. Justin takes the slight advantage and wobbles the World Champion, but Grimm ends the exchange with a knee to Kaard's midsection. Grabbing the hunched-over Kaard by the head, Grimm whips the challenger into the ropes, but when Kaard comes back, he catches Grimm on the side of the head with a beautifully-placed leg lariat that drops Grimm down to one-knee.

Kaard quickly follows that up with a pele kick to take the World Champion to the mat and follows it up with a quick pin attempt that only garners a one-count.

Ace Anderson: Kaard tried catching Grimm off-guard by making a pinfall there, but the World Champion said, “Not today.”

Kaard and Grimm are both up to their feet at nearly the same time. Kaard runs up the body of Grimm and backflips off while looking for a momentum clothesline, but Grimm ducks under the attempt, which causes Kaard to go crashing to the mat....

Jerry Andrews: ...Kaard back up to his feet and Grimm nails him with a European uppercut, knocking him off his feet.

Ace Anderson: I didn't know Grimm knew ANYTHING about Europe, but that uppercut showed he is a man well-traveled.

Grimm drops to the mat and begins blantenly choking the challenger, right in-front of the face of the referee. The referee warns Grimm to break it up, but Grimm defies and the referee starts the mandatory five-count. Right before the ref counts to five Grimm releases the choke just to go right back to it. The ref tries to pry Grimm off of Kaard and Grimm levels a stern glare at the man and barks in his face, “I have 'til five!”

Ace Anderson: Grimm is using an illegal choke but knows that he has until five to break it. Hey, it's in the rulebook!

Senior Official Russo begins the count again, and again at four does Grimm break the hold. Instead of going for the choke a third time, Grimm gathers himself off the mat and begins stomping at The Adrenaline King methodically; First targeting the left shoulder, then the right shoulder, then the right side, then the right leg, then the left leg, to finally the left knee specifically.

Jerry Andrews: Remember folks, Kaard had injured that knee in his match with Mr. Showtime at Trauma 187 and was seen wearing a brace at Trauma 188. Grimm knows exactly what he is doing.

Ace Anderson: Sound strategy. Grimm didn't become World Champion by fluke, ya know? Besides, how can the high-flier fly with a bum leg.

Grimm continues to stomp at the left knee, then drops down and begins hammerfisting it. Grimm then applies a single-leg-lock on the damaged knee. Referee Russo begins to check on Kaard, asking him if he wants to submit but Kaard screams no.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm's really wrenching in that leg lock. I don't know if Justin's knee is going to hold.

Ace Anderson: Kaard should have wore that brace.

With Kaard locked into the submission hold and the referee focused on him, Grimm reaches out and grabs the bottom rope to add leverage to the submission, causing Kaard to scream out in even more pain. The Faithful in attendance are just as vocal as the man in the hold, jeering out so that the referee might be able to catch Grimm, but when Russo turns to face Grimm, Grimm lets go of the ropes right before. Russo notices the ropes shaking and asks Grimm if he had anything to do with it, but Grimm says, “NO, now ask him!”

Russo goes to check on Kaard again, and again Grimm grabs the bottom rope. This time, however, Referee Russo speeds around to Grimm and catches him holding onto the ropes. The fans cheer when the referee orders Grimm to break the hold, but again, Grimm holds onto the submission until the referee counts to four.

Jerry Andrews: It really seems as if Grimm does not care if he's disqualified here tonight.

Ace Anderson: You might be right. The title wouldn't change hands due to disqualification, Jerry.

When Grimm doesn't break the hold at five, the official takes it into his own hands and kicks at the arm of Grimm to break the hold.

Ace Anderson: Russo is the Senior Referee, so he's been through a lot, but it takes a lot of nerve as an official to physical get involved with any competitor, let alone Grimm. That man must have a brass pair.

Breaking the hold, Grimm gets to his feet and begins walking towards the referee who backs off smartly. Grimm then turns around and reaches down towards Kaard, who surprisingly catches Grimm in a small package.

Jerry Andrews: One-two-and a kickout by the World Champion.

Ace Anderson: I wouldn't call Kaard defeating Grimm an upset, but the bookies state that Grimm is the odds-on-favorite and Kaard nearly got him there.

Grimm gets back to his feet and does a fist drop onto Kaard's left knee. Kaard instinctly grabs his leg but Grimm doesn't give him the opportunity to tend to it and violently pulls him up off the mat before drilling him with a Samoan Drop.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm with the pin attempt. One, two, and...no, Kaard kicks out.

Ace Anderson: And to the unskilled person, it may have looked as Kaard just kicked out, but to a trained professional, you can clearly see the power he used for that kickout came from his right side. Clearly, the damage has been done to the left knee.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm may have permanently grounded the high-flier.

Grimm once again picks himself and Kaard up off the mat, then takes him down with a drop-toehold before covering him again. Kaard once again kicks out at two, which causes The Lord of Misrule to pierce through the official with his gaze of contempt.

Ace Anderson: Referee Russo may really want to rethink getting on Grimm's badside. Things tend to go snap, crackle, and pop when that happens.

Lifting Kaard off the mat, Grimm tries to whip Kaard into the ropes, but Kaard's knee buckles before he even reaches it. A satisifed grin appears on The Hangtown Horror's face as he grabs Kaard off the mat and walks him over to the nearest turnbuckle. Kaard gets thrown in back first and Grimm scales the ropes to rain down with blows to the face of Kaard.

The fans count along to eight, but Kaard somehow slides underneath Grimm as Grimm hits his fist on the top turnbuckle on the ninth blow. As Grimm turns around, Kaard delivers a right-on-the-money single leg dropkick to Grimm's face.

Ace Anderson: What a clutch dropkick.

Grimm falls into the corner and Kaard, hobbling, rushes in with a spinning wheel kick, dropping Grimm all the way down to the bottom turnbuckle. Kaard hits at his left knee, then tries shaking it off a bit, as he backs up. He looks into the crowd and then, with as much speed as he could muster, comes running in and hits Grimm with his signature flip senton!

Ace Anderson: Kaard ROLLS THE DICE!! He meant the HELL out of that move!

Jerry Andrews: But The Faithful are eating it up- listen to the roar of that crowd, Ace![/i]

Kaard gets off of Grimm and backs up as Grimm pulls himself up from the corner. He comes rushing at Kaard, who ducks a clothesline, then ducks a wild swing, before...

Jerry Andrews: Pele kick from Kaard brings the World Champion to the mat.

….Kaard back to his feet waits for Grimm, who gets to a kneeling position. When Kaard sees this, he rushes out and does a projectile hurricarana. With gusto, Kaard drops down to make the pin, but Grimm once again kicks out at two.

Ace Anderson: Another close near-fall. Those kick-outs are getting closer and closer to three as this one continues on.

Kaard positions himself in a corner and waits for Grimm to get to his feet, and when he does, Kaard comes sprinting forward and nails him with a running knee smash.

Jerry Andrews: Mach Five!

Ace Anderson: And notice how Kaard used his right knee to hit that manuever and not his left. Very poise ring awareness there.

Kaard once again looks out into the crowd and you can tell he's feeling their energy. He rushes to the nearest corner, his limp nearly gone.

Ace Anderson: The adrenaline's running now.

Scaling to the top, Justin looks out to the crowd and then leaps off with a beautiful corkscrew shooting star press.

Jerry Andrews: SEATTLE SPACE WALK! SEATTLE SPACE WALK! THIS ONE'S ALL OVER!

Upon impact, Kaard hooks the leg and makes the pin. With The Faithful and Jerry Andrews counting along, the ref makes the count.

Jerry Andrews: ONE-TWO-THRENOOOO! Grimm kicks out!

Ace Anderson: I really thought Justin had it there! What a match! These two will battle on.

Kaard cannot believe Grimm kicked out and pounds at the mat in frustration and then holds three fingers to the ref as the fans chant:

PCW Faithful: “THIS-IS-AWE-SOME! *CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP* THIS-IS-AWE-SOME! *CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP!*

Not knowing what else to do, Kaard slowly gets to his feet. As Kaard gets to a standing position, Grimm has managed to get to his knees. Kaard uses this opportunity to begin throwing lightning fast kicks at the chest of Grimm, but after the fifth kick, Grimm manages to catch one of the kicks.

Getting onto his feet while still holding Kaard's leg, Grimm dragon screw leg whips Kaard to the mat. Both men get to their feet and Grimm tosses Kaard down with a Wheelbarrrow Facebuster. Now it's Grimm's turn for a pin only for it to be kicked out at two.

Grimm gets up and gets directly into the face of Referee Russo. Russo backs down, but assures Grimm it was only a two. During this exchange, Kaard pulled himself over to the corner and up to his feet. Grimm comes over to Justin but Justin comes running out and hits Grimm with a...hug? Not a bearhug, but a hug. Eyes closed and everything.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm is completely befuddled.

Ace Anderson: I AM completely befuddled.

Grimm...returns the embrace?

Ace Anderson: What the hell is going on here?!

….Except, Grimm uses his version to throw Kaard over his head in a release belly-to-belly suplex!

Ace Anderson: Much better.

However, Kaard lands on his feet. When Grimm turns to face him, Kaard kicks him in the gut, hooks the head, and then delivers the Adrenaline Rush! Grimm goes down and Kaard hops on top of him and hooks the leg.

Jerry Andrews: ONE-TWO-THREE!

Ace Anderson: KICKOUT!

DING! DING! DING!

Sasha Greene: The winner of the match...AND NEW PCW WORLD CHAMPION...JUSTIN KAAAAARRRRD!

Ace Anderson: WAIT, WHAT?! Grimm kicked out!

A replay of the pin shows Grimm kicking out right after the official's hand hits the mat for the three count.

Winner: Justin Kaard via Pinfall

Jerry Andrews: It looks like Grimm kicked out just a tic too late. Grimm can't believe it!

Grimm is livid and slides out of the ring. He begins tearing up the announce table, tossing chairs around, and throws a video camera half way up the entrance ramp. Inside the ring, referee Russo hands Kaard the belt, but when Grimm sees this he slides into the ring and charges at the ref, taking him down with a spear. Kaard interjects and pulls Grimm off of the official but is rewarded with a spectacular headbutt that he calls the Sword of Heimdall!

Kaard begins to fall back, but with cat-like reflexes Grimm catches Kaard and nails him with The Harvest. Grimm follows it up with an arm triangle choke that he calls The Winding Stair.

More officials come pouring from the back, as well as Pure Class Arena Security. Grimm finally releases the hold and then grabs the PCW Title. The fans are booing so loudly the view we see from the camera is shaking. Grimm drops the belt onto Kaard's face and then exits the ring as the feed fades out!!

-CLICK-

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So hey, a GREAT BIG thank you to EVERYONE! You guys put out great RP's, I got some awesome segs submitted, and of course my mule team brought their A-game like the badasses they are. Thanks for all the hard work, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed the show!

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Buck Brochamp d. Baby Jenks

Raven Hex d. Disco Stud
Psychedelica d. The Shaw Brothers

Jury d. =Q=

NCM d. Alexa Black

Showtime d. Crazy Boy

Justin Kaard d. Grimm