Trauma 235 Results

[Rick Majors]

Pure Class Wrestling Trauma 

Thursday, July 19th, 2018

The show opens showing the ring, where Sasha Greene is standing by in the ring with a local competitor, who is a fat, balding man, of middling height, wearing a button up starched yellow shirt and a pair of pleated slacks. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like a nebbish, suburban man, and yet he is here in the middle of a Pure Class Wrestling ring.

Jerry Andrews: Well folks, welcome to Trauma and... we're not sure what is going on right now. Let's watch and listen.

Sasha Greene: I'm standing by with a local talent from right here in this county... I'm told you want to go by the name --?

Usher: Eustace the Usher, yes.

Sasha Greene: Usher, you have been given an opportunity tonight to wrestle a Pure Class Wrestling superstar and impress the folks at home. What do you say to that?

The man licks his lips over his dead caterpillar mustache, before delivering what he probably means to be a sermon, in a reedy, wavering voice.

Eustace the Usher: Ladies and gentlemen, have you heard the good news of our Lord and Savior?! I come bearing you tidings of salvation. Of redemption. Of - of sweet prognositication, even. I am an usher in the holy church. This book has revolutionized my life. I go to his revivals and sing his Psalms. And it has provided guidance and structure in my life. I am a member of the Church of Salmonism.

Sasha takes in the spiel from the usher with an incredulous, "Am I really seeing this with my own two eyes" open-mouthed stare, completely at a loss from the string of these local flavor idiots that come for open challenges.

Sasha Greene: ...Did you say Serominism?

Eustace the Usher: ...No, no I did not! We are a legally safe and lawsuit proof religious sect known as Salmonisim. And tonight I wanted - most of all I want to take the time to say that I am going to prove tonight that I am a bigger star than anyone they- they send out here, because I am the light of my Lord, and I will -

Suddenly, the opening notes of "In The Morning And Amazing" by Circa Survive begins to play. Sasha Greene, smiling broadly, steps away from Eustace the Usher.

Sasha Greene: And his opponent, weighing in at 218 lbs... he is the Pure Class Wrestling World Champion... KYLE SHANE!!!

"And how could anyone

You are in my dreams

Half human, half machine

You with someone else that I have felt and seen

I cannot rest, or my consciousness contest

Looking right through the lens

From winter brings the spring again"

Kyle tilts his head back and holds his arms out, taking in the reception of the crowd. For the PCW faithful that are just getting to know him, there is a modest show of respect, but the truly dedicated that have followed his career stir mightily. Some on the sides of the aisles even make a fanning bow motion as Kyle walks by. 1/2 the way down the aisle, Kyle pivots, holding his arms up to either side of him. He climbs onto the apron. Kyle balances on the ropes for a moment, points to himself and smirks, holding his arms out, and then he hops down.

Kyle is wearing a t-shirt that boasts a monogrammed black slogan on a white shirt - "I GOT MY ASS HANDED TO ME BY -"

(The camera pans down)

"NOTORIOUS!"

Jerry Andrews: Kyle using his entrance garb tonight to make a veiled, probably sarcastic jab at the absent Johnny Matthews and Justin Michaels.

Ace Anderson: Someone's still salty, it looks like.

Non-Title Singles Match 

Eustace the Usher vs Kyle Shane (PCW World ©)

Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.

Kyle removes the World Title belt, handing it to the referee, and he stretches against the ropes, leaving the sarcastic message t-shirt on. His opponent, Eustace the Usher, unbuttons his collared shirt, letting a prodigious belly come hanging out. Kyle holds his arms out, taking in the reaction of the crowd, and Eustace the Usher looks from side to side, helpless. He gulps. He just signed up to get the message of his church out there and he is met with an open challenge from the World Champion. He doesn't know what to do. So, he charges at Kyle Shane, who has his back turned.

Ace Anderson: Oy, where did we find this tomato can.

Jerry Andrews: The kind of church that has one room in the shopping center next to an old CVS, it looks like.

Eustace the Usher gets within two feet of Kyle, but the champ meets him with a spinning back kick that doubles him over, right in the breadbasket. The walrus stached Usher blows out a few breaths, looking badly winded already, and Kyle backs up a few steps, then he floors the puffing, out of shape Usher with a standing bicycle knee. Eustace the Usher falls back, nearly dead, looks like. Kyle holds his arms up, to receive a reaction from the crowd.

Ace Anderson: Looks like they're gonna be passing around the collection plate to pay for his medical bills.

Jerry Andrews: Who's going to take that duty, though? It's usually the usher that handles it.

Kyle motions for Eustace the Usher to rise, and Eustace does, complaining, puffing, red faced, and his church best disheveled and pulled out of his tucked in pants. He turns in a circle, and he runs right into Kyle, who crouches down and performs a leaping, turning uppercut familiar to anybody who's played a lot of arcade games.

Jerry Andrews: SHORYUKEN!!

The hit floors the smaller, flabbier competitor. Kyle calmly, not too fussed, walks over to where he fell on his back, grabs an arm, and turns him onto his belly... then he locks in a painful looking over the shoulder crossface. Eustace the Usher's eyes bug out of his forehead. He taps immediately.

Jerry Andrews: Shane has the Old World Blues locked in and - Oh! He gives up!

Ace Anderson: I'd love to say he gave it his best shot, but... he really didn't.

Jerry Andrews: Quite an embarrassing advert for this legally safe, totally not parodied local church that isn't affiliated with Seromine.

Kyle releases the submission with a jerk and gets to his feet, pacing over to the ropes and taking a house mic.

Kyle Shane: You know, it's been a roller coaster few weeks around here, both in the broader sense of the show, and personally for me. I rode a wave of momentum past Tyler Scott at Living A Legacy and retained my World Title, and I put his name on a list of challenges that I have overcome in my year and a half run here. But then, just before I could start getting too cocky, I got beat. Oh, yes, it's true.

He sarcastically plucks at the monogrammed t-shirt, flattening the chest out so the camera can pan in on it's slogan. And to his credit, Kyle is playing this with complete, deadpan solemnity in his voice, only betrayed by the fact that he's pointing to the shirt.

Kyle Shane: I thought, and preached, that I was the best, and as always happens when I get a little too up my own ass with my own hype, I got a sobering setback. You see, I did get beaten... by Notorious. It was SCHEDULED, mind you, to be a tag match between myself and my partner versus Justin Michaels and a partner who WAS NOT Johnny Matthews. But Tyler Scott, well, he's falling into the camp that only jumps when Seromine tells him to... and Stacy hasn't been the same since she lost at Living A Legacy, maybe it's a confidence thing, I dunno... so take them out of the equation and, for some god awful reason the referee allowed about three different match changes on the fly instead of throwing it out and it comes down to just Stormm and Shane. Right?

He chuckles, and then the solemn, introspective mood becomes hard and bitter.

Kyle Shane: Except someone didn't inform Justin Michaels it wasn't a tag match. But I'm not surprised, because every single God damn match that's worth any stakes at all that Michaels gets himself into is a tag match, Justin Michaels, didn't BEAT ME. Notorious, beat me. Justin Michaels can't do SHIT without his little running buddy.

Kyle pulls the shirt off and throws it down in disdain, kicking it out of the ring.

Kyle Shane: I have one, very simple question. Is it SO HARD to beat Kyle Shane without bullshit, without controversy, cleanly in the center of the ring? I'm 218 pounds, Justin Michaels has over me about 50 pounds of muscle, minus his half a gram of shrunken testicles. Diminutive as I am, and he still cannot outwrestle me. He had to drag out an extra 200 pound sack of donkey crap known as Johnny Matthews and THEN try to even the score.

The champion is fired up now as he addresses the crowd, pacing back and forth. The crowd, cheering him on, responds with his fervor.

Kyle Shane: So as angry as that makes me, I would have laid out a challenge to Michaels and Matthews. I am always itching to prove myself. Had Justin Stormm Michaels come out here on the very next Trauma, schmoozed with Johnny Boy in one of their awful, toilet break, never ending, asinine Club Vivacious segments out here and talked about the great things he's accomplished, I would have been the first guest out here to get in his face and ask him if he wants to try that again. You'd almost expect him to be bragging, right, I mean in his mind, he is THE greatest champion, THE greatest at everything, people hang on his every word and he is THE antagonist of Seromine and his Followers. He's THE North Amer- I'm sorry, he wants to be called the International Champion. And he just got the biggest lucky break of his damn life. You'd expect them to be bragging about it.

He shrugs, washing his hands of it.

Kyle Shane: Nope. Club V has been quiet on that front. Johnny V is currently trying to murder Horacio Mortimer and incur the wrath of Dominator, but Notorious are amazingly not out here crapping up our TV and wasting our time... and they're not bragging about beating me because they knew I'd call them on it, and put Justin in a position where he'd have to try it again. And he can't.

His hand rockets up, his finger extended in the understood "One moment" gesture.

Kyle Shane: But... But, but... before you think that my business is all rehashing the developments with Michaels, I have other concerns. Because Notorious aren't the only group of toilet breaks running wild on this show. And it's high time I address the elephant in the room, this drama with Tyler Scott, Gabriel, and Seromine.

Kyle reaches for, and is handed by the timekeeper, the World title belt, and he holds it in his hands.

Kyle Shane: When I was going in to Living A Legacy fighting for my own honor and this World Title, Tyler Scott was running backstage trying to find Seromine. And it's obvious he listened to Seromine's pitch and decided to hear him out because every week now, we get some of this "Is he or isn't he" drama with Tyler and the followers. Is he a member of the punch bowl brigade, is he going to shave that patchy beard and get an Amish set-up just like Gabriel, is he going to come out in one of those masks. Is Tyler going to relegate himself to just a foot soldier for Seromine? I think we need to examine this.

Kyle flips the strap of the title over his shoulder.

Kyle Shane: Is Tyler giving up his spot, after he fought me like a man and lost after giving it his best shot? Just like Seromine expected Gabriel to just lay down for him in the semi-finals of The Icemann Invitational. Gabriel refused, and he was beaten down mercilessly for his transgression... and yet he persevered, and he got past Seromine when Seromine saw to his surprise that he wasn't getting an easy win handed to him for once. Gabriel went to the finals... and Gabriel failed against Grimm. So you have two acolytes, Seromine, two men who are currying for your favor... who went in to Living A Legacy trying to give it their all, and who fell short. And then there's you.

Kyle looks stone cold into the camera, his free hand resting on the title belt.

Kyle Shane: From the moment I won this title in December at Collision Course I've known that I'm on a course to collide back with you at some point. Even if you haven't earned it through merit you have weaseled and connived through your followers, you've browbeaten them into thinking they owe it to you. That you are their path to success. So I'm saying this right now, I'm watching all of this, Seromine. The segments with the followers. Tyler and Gabriel. All of it. And I'm not going to sit back and wait for you to build your power up. I'm going to do something about it. Just like I'm going to do something about Johnny and Stormmy. I've proven my case here... it takes everything you idiots have got to knock me down once... but I always get back up. And I am here to stay. This... IS. MY. SHOW.

He brings the mic close to his lips so they touch it, and his eyes are the most intent and focused we've seen on Kyle Shane in half a year.

Kyle Shane: Get ready.

Kyle flips the mic between his fingers, letting it tumble to the mat, and then he slings the title down and slides between the ropes, exiting around the ring. He holds his hands and the World title belt up, receiving a huge reaction from the crowd.

Jerry Andrews: Strong words from the champion. We'll be right back.

The show returns with Gabriel backstage. Where he’s at backstage is of no importance. It could be a random locker room. It could be in the interview area. It could be catering. It could even be in the boiler room.

But it’s none of the above.

The only thing one needs to know is he’s in prayer and asking for forgiveness. He’s conflicted about his actions of last show and seeking guidance for his showdown tonight with Gerard Angelo. Gabriel never reaches ‘AMEN’ before a pair of shadows cast dominance over him. With his concentration now broke, an irritated messenger turns his head to see…

Seromine and Destiny. They receive a villain’s welcome from the faithful. Gabriel stands, but is motioned by Seromine to finish what he was doing. This time Gabriel gets to ‘amen’ and is now ready to receive words from his LORD AND SAVIOR!

“My Lord, I---”

Seromine stops him.

“I already know what you’re going to say. GOD has already heard what you’re going to say. He told us, Brother Gabriel. He told me. He told her. He told EVERYONE!”

Seromine throws his arms in the air with his head titled back. Destiny grins as her eyes shift to Gabe. It then disappears into a scowl.

“Wrath is one of the seven deadly sins.” she informs “By your own admission, you engaged in it by attacking Gerard...”

Destiny ‘tsk tsk tsks’ as she wags her finger in the air. Seromine no longer feels overcome with holiness. Gabriel hangs his head in disappointment with himself. You get the sense that if there were a hole large enough to crawl in, he would do it.

“A Falls Count Anywhere match is your chance to repent!”

“It’s also a consequence which brings about your punishment.”

“But don’t worry...” Seromine pauses. “Gabriel.”

The fact there is no ‘Brother’ in front of that is not lost on him. “GOD still believes in you!”

Destiny smirks. “We’ll say a prayer in your honor!”

“Matthew 24:42. Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.”

Seromine links arms with his wife. “Good luck tonight.” They leave Gabriel with those words as the show goes to ringside.

Jerry Andrews: Well, ladies and gentlemen we're back and I think we'll finally have the opportunity to officially welcome you to Trauma here ton.....

Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, he weighs in at 227 lbs... TYRONE "CRAZY BOY" SMITH!!

Jerry Andrews: Everyone cuts me off these days. It's just like...

Ace Anderson: Hey look at Crazy Boy!

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.

Jerry Andrews: The crowd is on it's feet tonight for Crazy Boy, and he is getting them hyped up for this match!

Ace Anderson: Are you absolutely sure? I think I see that guy getting up to get some nachos. See, right there, fifth row... HEY! I SEE YOU!!

Jerry Andrews: Will you stop! Look at the fans at ringside, they're clearly reacting to him running out to the ring.

Ace Anderson: Maybe they think he's going to sell them some nachos?

Jerry Andrews:... *deep sigh*

Sasha Greene: And his opponent, he weighs in at 225 lbs... "THE TRANSGRESSOR", TYLER SCOTT!!

Can you feel it coming? Can you feel it coming?

'Switchblade Smiles' by Kasabian gradually rises in volume to announce the arrival of Tyler Scott. The lights dim and flicker as the crowd react with alternative waves of boos and cheers.

Move back this wrecking ball,

Rips through the blackest hole,

Violence is coming. It's coming. It's coming

However, as Tyler Scott appears through the curtain, the boos surpass the cheers. He pauses at the top of the ramp and takes a moment to adjust the strapping around his wrists and direct a few abusive words to the front row crowd. A quick turn of the wrist and crack of the knuckles and Tyler continues his descent down the ramp.

Jerry Andrews: The mood of intensity has shifted since Tyler's music hit, he appears to be all business as he's walking out here.

Ace Anderson: That I can agree with you. This man has a dangerous energy.

Jerry Andrews: The questions still remain... what does Tyler have to do in his dealings with Seromine and the Followers?

Ace Anderson: If there's anyone that knows, Tyler ain't talking.

Singles Match
Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith vs Tyler Scott
Referee: Eric Russo

The bell sounds, the crowd is invested early on, and the eagerly anticipated staredown between two Pure Class Wrestling’s most exciting wrestlers begins with a quick lockup in the center of the ring, which ends up resulting in a deadlock. Although Tyler the two high fliers are about evenly distributed as far as weight goes, Tyler finds out that Crazy Boy is surprisingly strong, and decides to break the tie-up. The two risk-taking superstars circle around the ring again, the feeling out process still underway. Crazy Boy decides to make the aggressive move by going for another tie-up with Tyler, but after another deadlock between the two, the grapple turns into a shoving match, with both competitors taking turns pushing each other. Tyler gets the best of this matchup, and finally shoves Crazy Boy into the corner. Backing up a few steps, the Transgressor gets a head of steam and charges at Crazy Boy., who instinctively ducks, sending Tyler crashing into the tur-oh wait, no.

Jerry Andrews: And a great sign of athleticism by Tyler!

Tyler actually hops atop the turnbuckle and just as Crazy Boy turns around to take advantage of the situation he believes he put Tyler into, he jumps from the turnbuckle and sends Crazy Boy flying with a missile dropkick. Not being the one to waste any time, the Transgressor hops to his feet and jogs toward the near set of ropes, and upon his return, sends a quick leg drop straight to Crazy Boy throat, sending the dynamic superstar rolling around the mat in agony, clutching his throat. Tyler, instead of attempting to capitalize on the situation and go for the quick pin, decides to apply a rear headlock, in an attempt to wear down who some would say much quicker, challenger. Crazy Boy’s arms begin to flail around, attempting to first grab Tyler’s arms and head, but after realizing this would be a total failure, begin to reach desperately for the ropes.

Jerry Andrews: Tyler knows he doesn’t exactly have what it as far as Tyrone's flying ability goes. Crazy Boy might have him there. He knows he needs to ground the young superstar and keep him out of the air if he wants to keep this match at a pace he can manage.

Finally, after a few moments, Crazy Boy manages to grasp the bottom rope, prompting the referee to pry Tyler from his challenger. Tyler basks in the fact that he’s grounded his opponent, resulting in thousands of boos being thrown his way. Crazy Boy has since rolled out of the ring and is resting on the outside barricade. He finally decides to slide back into the ring, but is met by mudhole stomps. Tyler doesn’t let Crazy Boy even think about getting back into the ring without any trouble, and this forces Crazy Boy to roll back to the outside before he suffers any more damage.

Jerry Andrews: Tyler knows that on the outside, Crazy Boy can’t take to the air. Good strategy so far from the Transgressor.

Pacing back and forth on the outside, Crazy Boy continues to keep an eye on his opponent. Tyler finally gives in and backs away from the side of the ring that Crazy Boy wishes to enter, and rests his body on the ropes on the other side of the ring. Smith uses this opportunity to roll back into the ring, and he hops up onto his feet just as Tyler comes barreling toward him. Luckily, Crazy Boy rolls between Scott legs and waits until the Transgressor turns around before delivering a quick spinning heel kick straight to Tyler’s head. On the mat, Tyler rubs his jaw and begins to use the ropes to climb back to his feet before he feels himself being yanked upwards. Crazy Boy, holding Tyler up by his scalp, shoves the Transgressor into the near turnbuckle and winds up before sending a backhand chop smacking straight across Scott’ chest, drawing a "WOOOOO" from the crowd.

Ace Anderson: Unless you wear a flamboyant sparkling robe down to the ring and have bleach blonde hair, I don’t think you can use that move.

Crazy Boy rears back yet again and sends another chop into the Transgressor’s chest.

WOO!

Ace Anderson: COPYRIGHT!

Another chop.

WOO!

Ace Anderson: INFRINGEMENT!

Yet another.

WOO!

Ace Anderson: STOP, STOP, HIS BEAUTIFUL CHEST IS BEET RED!

Tyler stumbles out of the rope, gasping and panting for air, and the Transgressor clutches at the new wound inflicted by Crazy Boy. Crazy Boy, meanwhile, has taken the opportunity to take a few paces back and come crashing into Tyler’s abdominal region with a corner spear. Crazy Boy grasps the ropes on either side of Tyler and uses them to catapult his shoulder back into Scott midsection repeatedly, before Tyler finally crumbles down to a seated position in the corner. Smith sends a number of boots into Tyler’s face before backing away to set himself up to hopefully put this match to rest. He comes to a stop at the turnbuckle across from where Tyler is seated, and, getting a head of steam, sprints toward the Transgressor. Crazy Boy leaps toward Tyler’s head as if for a bronco buster... however, thanks to a last second dodge from the line of fire, comes down crotch-first on the middle turnbuckle. The crowd lets out a loud groan of sympatico. Crazy Boy falls back-first onto the mat, clutching his groin in pain.

Ace Anderson: You just hate to see a fellow masculine adjacent in that kind of turmoil.

Jerry Andrews: This might be the opening Tyler needs to get back in this match!

Tyler slides back into the ring, where he drapes an arm over the downed Crazy Boy and the referee slides in for the pinfall.

The referee: One…















Two…Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: Quick kickout by Crazy Boy!

Ace Anderson: What a shame.

Tyler rolls off of his downed but still kicking challenger. He slowly makes his way to his feet but drops another quick leg drop across the throat of Crazy Boy. Tyler follows up with a quick elbow drop to the sternum, along with a slap to the head of Crazy Boy, taunting Smith for more of a competition.

Jerry Andrews: What a pathetic move by the Transgressor. If he’s gonna do this, just go in for the win right now.

Ace Anderson: I think you're forgetting who you're talking about. Tyler is a world class athlete. At the last big show, he took our own World Champion Kyle Shane to the limit.

Tyler pulls his opponent up by the head and sends him flying toward the ropes. Scott heads in the opposite direction and the two meet in the center of the ring, where Tyler plants Crazy Boy with a Michinoku driver! Without hesitation, Tyler goes for the cover.

The referee: One...















Two... Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: It’s not over!

Tyler gets to his feet, and he turns his head as he lifts Crazy Boy up, jaw jacking at the crowd and taunting them. He doesn't seem to be acting like an overtly holy man. But still, the crowd responds with a vociferous shower of hate. Tyler goes to lift Crazy Boy all way up, but Crazy Boy responds by rolling Tyler into a small package!

Jerry Andrews: Oh! He may have Tyler by surprise!

The referee: One...













Two... Kickout.

Both men kick out and Tyler lays on the mat, his look questioning what just happened. However, Crazy Boy is the first to a vertical base where he reaches down picking Tyler up before sending Scott out to the floor through the top and middle rope. Crazy Boy measures Scott as he starts working his way to his feet. Crazy Boy bounces off the far side where he looks to deliver a baseball slide dropkick, Tyler side steps Crazy Boy which brings Crazy Boy out to the floor where he lands on both feet, Tyler spins Crazy Boy around before driving Crazy Boy lower back first into the ring apron. Crazy Boy groans and bends over, holding his lower back in pain.

Jerry Andrews: Things are breaking down on the outside.

Tyler brings Crazy Boy out off the ring apron before driving him lower back into the apron a second time which is followed by a European uppercut. Tyler takes Crazy Boy by the hair before taking him towards the steel steps where he looks to smash Crazy Boy face first off the steps. Crazy Boy puts on the breaks with his hands before jabbing Scott in the ribs which allows him to break Tyler's grasp before sending Scott bouncing face first of the steel steps to a roar from the crowd. Crazy Boy drives Scott face first off the steel steps a second time before throwing him back into the ring where Crazy Boy climbs up on the ring apron before looking to climbing the nearest set of buckles. Tyler reaches his feet where he lunges into the ropes causing Crazy Boy to crotch himself on the top turnbuckle! The crowd boo's as Scott steps up on the middle top where he locks a front face lock, Tyler steps up to the top rope before hoisting Crazy Boy up in the air! Tyler stands on the top rope with Crazy Boy up in the air in a vertical suplex, for at least five more seconds before falling backwards with a delayed superplex! Tyler floats over into the cover hooking the near leg.

The referee: One...













Two...













Thr- Kickout!

Crazy Boy kicks out to a roar from the fans at ringside.

With the kickout from the high impact move, Tyler’s beginning to become frustrated, not to mention more cocky by the second. He begins to saunter around the ring, taunting the crowd, and then turning his attention to Crazy Boy and subsequently taunting him to stand up.

Jerry Andrews: Tyler’s annoyed by Crazy Boy’s never give up attitude, and it’s starting to show!

Ace Anderson: Or maybe he gave him some disease and THAT’s why he’s pissed. I mean, I would be too.

Crazy Boy finally makes it up to his feet, with the help of the ropes, and takes a few steps toward Tyler, who is eagerly awaiting his arrival. The two tie up again, and it’s immediately apparent that Tyler has the advantage now. He backs Crazy Boy up into the ropes and sends him hurling toward the opposite side with a hard Irish whip. Instead of bouncing off of the ropes himself, Tyler waits for Crazy Boy with open arms, but instead, Crazy Boy sends him crashing to the canvas with a hard leaping lariat!

Jerry Andrews: Crazy Boy rebounding now!

Crazy Boy, with help from his second wind, leaps to his feet and begins sending boots repeatedly into Tyler’s sternum. He pulls Tyler to his feet by the back of his pants, sending the back of Tyler’s head straight into the canvas with a quick German suplex. Instead of releasing his hold on his opponent, Crazy Boy bridges the end of the move and goes for the pinfall!

The referee: One...















Two...















Thr- Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: I am impressed, Crazy Boy has been showing some fire.

As if to underscore this, a fired up Crazy Boy waits by as Tyler Scott reaches his feet, and his crazy opponent slaps the piss out of the Transgressor's mouth, drawing a shocked hush from the crowd. Like a guy who's pissed off because, you know, he just got his mouth slapped, Tyler Scott sends a forearm right into Crazy Boy face. He follows it with a hailstorm of blows that sends Crazy Boy backwards. One right hand in particular sends Crazy Boy into the ropes. Tyler Scott charges his challenger, but Crazy Boy pulls the rope down and the Seromine acolyte topples over the top and spills to the ground.

Ace Anderson: Things are looking bad for Tyler!

Crazy Boy has caught the scent of wounded prey, and like the animal he has shown he can become he begins an assault. Without wasting time. He springboards himself over the top rope and lands a devastating frog splash on the prone Tyler on the outside!!

The referee is counting!



Referee: One!









Two!









Three!









Four!

Crazy Boy can't help but play to the crowd a bit, though perhaps this costs him as Tyler Scott has reached his knees. Crazy Boy turns to get a handle back on the situation, but Scott makes sure that doesn't happen so easily with a headbutt directly into Crazy Boy's privates.

Referee: Five!!

Crazy Boy hurls over in pain, falling to a fetal state. Scott, jumps to the ring apron. Then he jumps to the 2nd rope and flies backward, landing a perfect moonsault on the outside to the prone Crazy Boy.

Jerry Andrews: Christ on a cracker!!

Ace Anderson: These two men have let it all hang out tonight.

Tyler Scott scoops up the aerialist Crazy Boy and slides him into the ring. Crazy Boy crawls to all fours as Scott once again steps onto the apron. The crowd is warning Crazy Boy to look, though their cries fall on deaf ears. He blasts Crazy Boy with a superkick while he's still in the kneeling position.

Jerry Andrews: Switchblade Superkick! It's lights out for Crazy Boy.

Tyler sinks down into a cover, hooking the leg and laughing at the crowd, who are heavily booing. The referee sinks down and starts a count, but Tyler Scott pulls off, wagging his finger back and forth.

Ace Anderson: Uh, what? I don't think Tyler is done?

Tyler hooks Crazy Boy's arm behind him, shaking his head in a remorseless fashion, before dropping back with a jumping hammerlock DDT. Crazy Boy is laid out.

Jerry Andrews: Insult added to injury. Come on, there was no need for that!

Ace Anderson: Tyler just destroyed Crazy Boy with a Straightjacket DDT. And now, mercifully, it's over.

Now it is. Tyler pins Crazy Boy again, grinding his forearm into the prone Crazy Boy's face. The crowd is booing heavily.

The referee: ONE...















TWO...















THREE!!

Ding Ding Ding!

Sasha Greene: Here is your winner... TYLER SCOTT!!

"Switchblade Smiles" by Kasabian begins playing on the PA as Tyler Scott gets to his feet, laughing and holding his arms up. The referee raises his arm in victory and Tyler Scott snatches it away, celebrating in his own way.

Jerry Andrews: Well, Tyler doesn't seem to have the same pentitent attitude that the other followers of Serominism have.

Ace Anderson: Who knows if Tyler even subscribes to their beliefs? But Tyler has learned something hanging around Seromine... he's learned a mean streak.

The referee is attending to Crazy Boy and Tyler is standing in the ring holding his arms up, and Tyler snarls. He looks down at Crazy Boy with a dark look and he shoos the referee out of the way, then he begins laying the boots to the fallen Tyrone. The crowd boos loudly. The referee orders the bell rung again and again.

Jerry Andrews: Aw, come on! Someone stop this!

Tyler gets in a few more good stomps, while suddenly, a figure slides into the ring behind Tyler. The crowd, who had been reacting negatively to Tyler's lack of sportsmanship, breaks into a thunderous cheer as they recognize the stabilized and revealed figure, who is brandishing a steel chair in hand, that he brings crashing across the back of Tyler Scott. It's Kyle Shane!! The returned World Champion has made another appearance, and he brings a reckoning down on Tyler Scott. The steel chair shot impacts loud enough to echo, and Tyler arches his back and rolls out of the ring, spitting and cursing. He turns, seeing Kyle, who holds the chair up in one hand like the sword Excalibur.

Jerry Andrews: Kyle Shane has just driven Tyler from the ring!

Tyler feints like, chair or no chair, he steps forward angrily, ready to get back in the ring, but then he stops short, shaking his head with a curled lip. Kyle, for his part, hunkers down, and swings the chair back and forth in front of him. Tyler makes a "screw this" hand wave and turns his back. Kyle Shane calls for a mic.

Kyle Shane: Now Tyler, I don't know if you're officially welcomed into the church bake sale club yet, but from where I sit, if you lie down with Seromine and his dogs, that just makes you another one - of his BITCHES.

He hurls the jab with extra force in it, trying to goad Tyler into turning around and getting back into the fight. It has the effect of making Tyler pause, and cock an ear, at least.

Kyle Shane: I'll make this shorter and sweeter than I did earlier... for WEEKS Seromine has been flooding our program with shenanigans with you, with Gabriel, and with his crew of goons. And I'm going to be honest, I'm sick of it. This is my damn show. And I am not going to let it become overrun by the choir. So I'm drawing my line in the sand and I'm putting up the flag for my crusade. You sure you want to be one of the holy lands that gets sacked, Ty?

Tyler looks over his shoulder at Kyle with disdain. Kyle holds his arms out, daring Tyler to do something. Tyler shakes his head, and keeps walking up the ramp. Kyle just chuckles, and he paces around the ring.

Kyle Shane: That goes for all the rest of you too. You know where to find me.

He drops the mic, and holds his arms out to the crowd, smiling broadly, knowing he's planted a kernel of something that is going to grow. He takes his time exiting the ring, before walking to the back himself.

Sasha Greene: The following is a fatal fourway match! Introducing first, she weighs in at 150 lbs... STACY JONES!!

At ringside, all of the lights turn off suddenly, unceremoniously plunging the entire arena in darkness.

Spotlights appear, in purest white light and begin searching across the crowd, ring, ramp and eventually settling on the stage.

The lights flicker from white, to blue, to white again before the sounds of shattering glass are heard echoing through the arena and the spotlights seem to dissipate.

A moment of silence that hangs throughout the arena until the lights flash on and off, bright and sudden, like a strobe effect before a pyrotechnic crackles around the big screen as "Awake and Alive" by Skillet plays, the spotlights back now, the bright white light appears to dance around the crowd as a blonde haired woman walks out on to the stage ready to tackle the challenge ahead of her.

The camera gets up close to the stage to get the woman on screen. She is wearing black wrestling tights emblazoned with an angel wing design around the top and a white belt. On top, she wears a black and white matching top and shoulder pads with a pair of sunglasses as she confidently walks to the ring to face her opponent.

Ace Anderson: Look at Stacy tonight! Good god those pants!

Jerry Andrews: Don't make me slap you, Ace. You never get pervy until the one girl hits the ring.

Ace Anderson: What can I say, Stacy is a rising star. Coincidentally, my star is...

Jerry Andrews: STOP IT. It's 2018!

Sasha Greene: And her first opponent, he weighs in at 350 lbs... DARREN "MONSTER" SILVAIRA!!

The lights dim in the arena and the opening drum beats of A Warrior's Call begins to play with strobe lights synced up. The crowd stands as the opening guitar riffs begin playing. The first words of the song -"Let's get ready to rumble!"- scream out of the speakers as Monster's huge frame steps out onto the stage. The crowd erupts into cheers at the sight of the big man. He raises an arm into the air and then brings it down as he begins throwing both arms down to his sides hard, warming up like a MMA fighter would before a fight. Monster begins shadow boxing in sync with the song and begins his descent down the ramp high-fiving and bumping fists with the fans along the way. The words "Feel the power of a warrior" play and some in the crowd begin chanting the next part of the song.

Fans: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Let's get ready to rumble!"

Fans: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Monster throws his arms in the air each time they chant the word "fight", pumping them up more. Monster finishes ringside and walks the steps up to the ring. Without even grabbing the top rope, he throws one huge leg over and repeats with the other, effortlessly stepping over the ropes and into the ring. Monster immediately heads to the opposite side of the ring and throws his arms in the air just as the song is coming to the next chorus. Monster pumps his arms in the air in sync with the chanting crowd.

"Feel the power of a warrior!"

Fans: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Let's get ready to rumble!"

Fans: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"A gladiator's left-hand hook!"

Fans: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Jerry Andrews: Stacy just took a big gulp when she saw the pure size of her first opponent.

Ace Anderson: I'm going to resist the pervy comment here because, I, too, am terrified by this dude. I mean, this guy is a colossus. And he's got scary intentions. And lots of tattoos.

Jerry Andrews: There are other heavyweights in this match, though. It will be interesting to see him go toe to toe with them.

Sasha Greene: And their opponent, weighing in at 500 lbs accompanied by his manager Alexa Black... He is "THE DESTROYER" HIROSHI YUKIO!!

The crowd looks to the entrance way as "Rising Sun" roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage and they start booing loudly almost drowning out the music.

Hiroshi Yukio steps through the curtain his face lit up with an evil smile followed closely by Alexa Black who loudly proclaims his greatness to the camera.

He walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back for the mountain man from Japan.

He waves mockingly to the crowd which pisses them off even more as he walks and when he sees a kid at ringside and holds up his sign and rips it in half then laughs

As he 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.

He goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope and into the ring After he does he does a purification ritual by throwing salt in the ring to cleanse it before the match.

The music fades out as Hiroshi stays in the ring waiting for his opponent.

Jerry Andrews: You've got Hiroshi versus Monster in there, staring straight across. It's like two big bulls ready to lock horns.

Ace Anderson: I hope they reinforced the ring... I'd hate for Stacy to fall and hurt her butt.

Sasha Greene: And their final opponent... 

The pipe organ of “Be Still for the Presence of the Lord” echoes throughout the arena. As the Beverley Minster Congregation begins to sing the hymn, Seromine and Destiny enter from around the ramp in an open carriage, horse-drawn buggy. He halts the clydesdales, then assists her out of the ride. Slowly, the pair make their way down to the ring, stopping to “bless” some of those close to the barrier as a negative reaction churns from the crowd.

Sasha Greene: ... from Anaheim, California. He weighs two hundred and forty pounds. Being accompanied by Destiny Willard is SEROMINE!

Seromine, dressed in preacher’s garb straight out of the 1800’s, walks arm-in-arm with his wife, who is also dressed in a very conservative, black dress with a white collar and cuffs and two white buttons on the front. His wide brimmed black hat and black coat lend a severity to his appearance as they make their way to the ring steps.

He lends his wife a gentlemanly hand up the stairs, holding the ropes for her as she enters, following quickly behind. He slowly makes his way around the ring, “blessing” the audience to a somewhat ungrateful reaction. Finally, he removes his hat and coat, handing them to his dutiful wife, while leaving his white button-up shirt and black ribbon bowtie on. Destiny kisses her husband as he holds the ropes open for her. She exits to ringside while he waits for his opponent.

Fourway Match
Hiroshi Yukio vs Seromine vs Darren "Monster" Silvaira vs Stacy Jones
Referee: Nigel Gale

Jerry Andrews: Seromine has been building his power base since the finals of the Icemann Invitational, his motives are steeped in mystery, and we can't even be sure if his followers that routinely accompany him are welcome anymore based on what we've seen. But one thing is for sure, Seromine has a devious, calculating mind.

Ace Anderson: I don't think any of them know what the deal is. Not Gabriel, not even Tyler Scott. We're all as in the dark as they are.

A general consensus is made and Seromine seems to be the obvious person to go after. Stacy and Hiroshi make their way toward the champ while Monster remains in his corner watching. Seromine fends off a thundering Hiroshi with a kick to the gut, and ducks a punch from Jones shoving her one of his own. She falters but Hiroshi is up again and he hits Seromine's back. Seromine spins and ducks another punch and delivers a kick to Yukio's gut. Stacy is back and throws her forearm into Seromine's spine. Seromine now stumbles and Hiroshi, on the ground, uses a drop toe hold to take him to the mat.

Jerry Andrews: Well there's the strategy. Stacy and Hiroshi have gone at Seromine and although he tried to fight them off he couldn't quite keep it up.

Ace Anderson: Look at Monster though! He's watching all of this.

Jerry Andrews: He will most likely continue to do so. People don't want to mess with him.

Jones and Yukio seem to have forgotten about Monster completely and work on stomping Seromine into the mat. Seromine tries to stand but the double team is too much. Hiroshi takes the initiative to lift Seromine and when he does he snaps him over for a suplex. Stacy Jones watches and doesn't realize where she is. Monster spins her and he drops her with a big boot to the nose.

Jerry Andrews: And now he's in! It was a waiting game for him.

Ace Anderson: And that's bad news that Stacy took that boot. She's done for.

Hiroshi continues to work on Seromine as he mounts him. His fists flurry across Seromine's face and the crowd shows their appreciation. Hiroshi takes Seromine up again and this time whips him across the ring. Seromine returns but as he does he is lifted up overhead in a gorilla press slam. Seromine's head whips back and forth quickly as he looks down at the height from which Hiroshi presses him. Hiroshi lets Seromine fall to the mat as he calmly walks forward. Seromine gets to his feet, holding his sternum. Hiroshi motions over to Darren... the Monster and Hiroshi lift Seromine up and punish him with a double vertical suplex. Hiroshi drops an elbow across Seromine's chest, then backs up as Monster comes in and gives him a leg drop across the throat. Seromine rolls around on the mat in pain. Hiroshi lifts Seromine up, applying a modified abdominal stretch so Monster has a clear shot at him, and Monster lays into Seromine's stomach with a few kicks. Finally, Monster punishes Seromine with a knee lift to the side of the head, and Seromine flops to the mat. Monster goes for the pin, but Hiroshi immediately pulls him off. Monster snarls at Hiroshi, and tackles him down to the ground and begins mounting him with punches. Hiroshi starts to cover up from the onslaught, but finally he is able to throw Monster off. Monster gets to his feet immediately, and begins clubbing Hiroshi over the back. Hiroshi fights back with elbows, and as he gets to his feet, he lays into Monster with stiff right hands.

Jerry Andrews: Looks like the alliance is over!

Ace Anderson: Those two bruising bastards were never going to work well together.

Hiroshi and Monster are trading blows back and forth. Hiroshi staggers Monster back with a headbutt as Seromine waits behind Hiroshi, giving Monster a few clubs to the back. Hiroshi turns around and Seromine goes for a Cyanide Punch. Hiroshi moves, and Monster is the one that eats the springboard punch. When Seromine gets up, Hiroshi goes for a clothesline, but Seromine ducks and locks onto his back with a sleeper hold. Hiroshi flails his arms around, as Seromine tightens the hold, and Seromine asks if he gives up, but Hiroshi shakes his head no. His face is starting to turn red. He immediately runs backwards and drives Seromine back first into the turnbuckles with force. He squashes Seromine into the corner again and again, and finally Seromine releases the hold enough for Hiroshi to shift him around, grip him by the side and walk him out into the center of the ring for a sidewalk slam. He covers, and Seromine drops down for the count.

The referee: One... (Monster breaks it up.)

Monster lifts Hiroshi up and begins hitting knee lifts to the face. He plants Hiroshi with a snap suplex. He goes to lift Hiroshi up again but Hiroshi gives him a European uppercut that makes him stumble back. Hiroshi gets to his feet and nearly takes Monster's head off with a mongolian chop. Hiroshi turns to Seromine, giving him a few clubbing blows to the back, then he grips Seromine's arm and whips him with force into the corner, following it up by charging in and hitting a nasty looking corner spear. Seromine is doubled over nearly in half, his eyes open wide in pain, and Hiroshi pulls him out and hits a short DDT. Hiroshi lifts Seromine up and hits a shoulder backbreaker, then drops into the cover.

The referee: One... (Stacy breaks it up.)

Hiroshi gets up, complaining of being hit in the back of his head. The tenacious, but light Stacy continues hammering Hiroshi over and over with clubbing blows. He simply reaches a tree trunk arm out and shoves her away. Stacy comes right back in. She shoots in, attempting a hurricanrana to pull Hiroshi over the ropes. Hiroshi simply locks his arms on her pants, and the 500 pounder lets her hang, and then he slams her to the mat out of the hurricanrana. Hiroshi holds his arms up and yells to the crowd, receiving a shower of boos. Seromine returns again and DS whips him over with an arm drag. Seromine gets to his feet and Hiroshi measures him, going for his finisher, but he is met by Monster, who charges in and hits a running big boot. Hiroshi is hit with such impact that he is sent over the ropes to the outside, and some people groan as they see the 500 pounder land awkwardly on his knee and begin cringing and holding it.

Jerry Andrews: Oh my GOD!!

Ace Anderson: That left an impact crater when he fell over the damn ropes!

Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi tumbled HARD on the outside, we have to get someone out here to look at him while the match goes on...

Ace Anderson: I think Stacy will end up having a short night tonight at this rate also, Monster has turned his attention to her and he is not looking very forgiving.

Monster lifts Stacy's body onto the top rope and climbs onto the second ropes. He straddles them and forces her head down. He grabs her for an inward powerbomb and achieves the flip. She's about ready to fall when she grabs the ropes. Monster smashes her face against the pads but she keeps her grip strong. Monster attempts to rip her upwards but she still holds strong.

Jerry Andrews: Stacy is avoiding that powerbomb now and I think Monster is going to fix that one way or another.

Ace Anderson: Sure looks like it. He's stepping back now with her still in hand.

Jerry Andrews: Jones is fully extended now and still holding on.

Monster winds up his leg and delivers a spine shattering kick to her back. She releases her grip and Monster grins to the crowd's disapproval. As he's about to powerbomb her though, Seromine charges at the mass of bodies with a jumping body splash.

Ace Anderson: Sandwich served!

Jerry Andrews: Seromine just inadvertently saved Stacy there and in the end smashed both of them in the corner. He's got some momentum for sure right now.

Ace Anderson: Look at Monster! No!

Monster falls flat on his face and Seromine mounts him for a pinfall.

The referee: One...

















Two... Kickout!

Jerry Andrews: Seromine just fell on Monster there and almost got the pinfall. Could you imagine what would happen if that just went down?!

Stacy Jones shakes off her headache and uses the ropes to get back to her feet. She sidesteps the bodies warily as Seromine and Monster begin to get up. Stacy moves in first knocking Seromine onto his knees with a swift kick from behind. She knees Monster in the nose before she lines up and dropkicks both in the face! Stacy springs off the near second rope dropping an elbow drop across Seromine's chest. She gets up and grabs his legs and is able to spin him around for a brutal Boston crab. As this is happening, Monster makes it back to his feet and spots Stacy. He grabs her from behind and tosses her over the top rope to the outside. The crowd boos as Jones sits against the barricade holding her head.

Ace Anderson: See! Monster's back into the mix and he just eliminated Stacy!

Jerry Andrews: Smart move by Monster. Let's see what he has in mind after that.

He kicks Seromine in the ribs and pulls him up for an impromptu DDT onto the canvas. He raises his hands as if he were the champion and the crowd shows their approval. Monster comes toward Seromine quickly and tries to grab him for a slam. Seromine evades him with a roll and tries another dropkick. Monster hardly feels it and lifts Seromine up for a sidewalk slam. Seromine drops onto Monster's knee and then the mat, and he groans in agony, holding his back. Both men are taking a short breather, but Seromine is trying to get some feeling in his lower back.

Ace Anderson: I'll bet Seromine is offering a prayer to any deity that can keep him safe in there right now.

Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi is moving outside, also.

The camera does get a quick shot of Hiroshi with two trainers, who are stretching out his leg and attending to his knee. The stubborn sumo waves them away. Stacy doesn't instead keeps trying to gather herself. Monster has Seromine in the air for the Monstrous Powerbomb as Stacy Jones is climbing the turnbuckle quickly. Monster spins around to show off his catch and as he does Stacy leaps off hitting a low crossbody on Monster. Monster falls backwards and Seromine falls on his back behind Monster. Stacy hooks the leg and tries for a pin.

The referee: One...















Two...















Th- Kickout!



Stacy looks shocked as she looks at both men still in the ring, Hiroshi still on the outside as they haven't decided what to do with him. Stacy goes to lift Monster up, but he cuts her off with a headbutt that sends her staggering, her head bouncing. Seromine staggers to his feet, and Monster charges at him, catching him around the throat with an STO hold and slamming him with a lot of force down to the mat. Monster lifts Seromine up, hitting a few knees to the midsection, then he whips him into the corner. Stacy is getting up as well, and Monster grips Stacy's arm and whips him into the corner on top of Seromine. Monster paces to the opposite corner, and he comes charging in, looking for a huge corner splash, but Seromine pulls himself out of the predicament, leaving Stacy to get sandwiched in the corner. Stacy drops down, trying to catch her breath. Monster turns around, and Seromine begins flaring right hands at him, backing him up to the ropes. He goes to whip Monster to the ropes, but Monster hooks his arm around the rope and refuses to budge. Seromine tries again, but again Monster doesn't move.

Jerry Andrews: Seromine has a size advantage over Stacy, but he's still the smaller man in this match.

Finally, Monster pulls with all his might and pulls Seromine to the ropes with force, and Seromine goes tumbling over the top rope to the outside. Monster follows after him. Monster slams Seromine's head off the announce table with force, gripping him by the hair and walking him around the ring. He lifts Seromine up on his shoulder, and goes to run him face first into the steel ringpost. At the last second Seromine kicks his legs and pushes off Monster's shoulder, and pushes Monster into the steel post. Monster stops himself at the last second, but Seromine performs a tightrope-walking maneuver across the guardrail, moving quickly and then he flies off the guardrail with a shoulder block, knocking into Monster and making him fall back. The crowd pops for this maneuver, and Seromine gets to his feet. Stacy takes the opportunity to baseball slide into his back, knocking him into the guardrail. Stacy slides out of the ring and walks after Seromine. The ref is telling them both to get back in the ring.

Ace Anderson: It will take more than that to keep Seromine down, because he always rises again, sometimes a day or three later in a cave.

Jerry Andrews: He may think he's a Messiah, but he's not Jesus.

Stacy lifts Seromine up, and gives him a Russian legsweep into the steel guardrail. Seromine falls limply to the aisle. Stacy takes a moment to play to the crowd as the crowd responds with a positive burst of energy. Stacy lifts Seromine up, and she goes for a suplex on the concrete, but Seromine blocks it by hooking his leg around Stacy's. Finally, Seromine is able to suplex Stacy across the concrete. Stacy screams and holds her lower back. Seromine lifts Stacy up, and rolls her in the ring, as he climbs on the apron. He grips the ropes, and uses them as a slingshot to the top, where he balances for a second, then he comes off with a springboard flying punch. The crowd pops again, and Seromine drops down for the cover.

Jerry Andrews: And another Cyanide Punch!!

The referee: One...















Two...















Thr- Kickout!

Seromine gets to his feet, frustrated. He motions that it's over for this sinner, and he hooks her for a double underhook flip piledriver, but Stacy resists one of her arms getting clamped. Seromine fights with her, frowning, trying to lock her in position, and then Stacy comes in with a low blow uppercut, perfectly legal under fatal fourway rules! The crowd loves it. Seromine, well, he doesn't, as his eyes pop out of his head and he doubles over. Stacy grabs a hold of Seromine before he flops down, gripping his head under her arm and pushing off the ropes, hitting a Stratusfaction style springboard bulldog. Stacy holds her arms up to the crowd, pacing around, intending to keeps up her assault. She spots a giant movement behind her and she goes to plant a kick on Monster, however he reverses and nails her with a European uppercut that dazes her for a second so he can perform a successful reverse chokeslam.

Jerry Andrews: There's one big man still in this match.

Monster gets back to Seromine. He mounts him and attempts to locks in an armbar. The Messiah immediately feels it and rolls out of it. He rolls to his feet, just as Monster gets to his. Monster goes for the first strike, but Seromine ducks underneath. Monster turns around and his arm is gripped, and he is hit by a STIFF short-arm clothesline that has him stumbling back, shaking the cobwebs out of his head, and then Seromine folds his head down under his arm and crushes Monster with a DDT. Monster looks to be out.

Jerry Andrews: Ouch! Down goes Monster! Seromine has taken control again.

Ace Anderson: And he may have just snapped Monster's neck with that one.

Seromine gets to his feet, disdaining the pin, focuses on Stacy Jones as he gets back up. Stacy is still dazed slightly from the chokeslam and gives into him easily. He forces her into the corner and lowers his shoulder for a battering ram. He shoves into her three times before springing up onto the second rope and kicking her clean in the head. She fumbles but he catches her and flips her over into a tree of woe position. He backs up slowly and smiles. Seromine lines up with Stacy and charges drilling his weight and knee into her head and body.

Ace Anderson: AH! She's dead! She must be dead!

Jerry Andrews: She sure won't be moving after that explosion. Seromine may have just obliterated her with that one.

Seromine covers after pulling her off the top rope.

The referee: One...













Two...















Thre- Kickout!

Seromine checks on Monster, and then on Hiroshi, who is disdaining all medical advice and pushing trainers away. He focuses back on Stacy who has obviously taken the most punishment. He begins to lift her but as he does she raises her arm and, for the second time of the night, gives him a low blow to remember. The referee misses the hit as Seromine falls to his knees. Stacy uses him to help herself up and grabs his head. She jumps up and does a standing leg drop of sorts crushing his face into the canvas.

Jerry Andrews: Stacy with the counter and now she has some leverage.

Ace Anderson: She's taken a damn good beating though out there already. This could be a short triumph for her.

Stacy uses her second wind and leaps giving Seromine an enziguri. Seromine falls against the ropes. She springboards off the ropes and drives him down with a bulldog. She looks to cover her up. The referee counts...

The referee and the crowd: One...

















Two...















Thr-- (HIROSHI BREAKS IT UP!)

Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi leapt into the ring!

Ace Anderson: You could almost say it was a landslide, or a lava flow, that 500 pound frame rolled from the apron and coated Stacy just before she got the pin.

Hiroshi winces and he can't hold his weight on his knee. Alexa Black, on the outside, is slapping the mat, yelling that he's too hurt. Hiroshi struggles to stand, and he turns, pushing Monster out of the ring with his good foot and using the ropes. Both Stacy and Seromine are looking up from their places on the mat, in a look of disbelief that the injured sumo is still trying to get in this match. Stacy stands up first and charges at Hiroshi, but he catches her in a goozle. Stacy's eyes fly open wide as the giant sumo flings her to the mat. He cries out in pain as he hobbles over to her, and he bends and lifts her up. He cringes with pain as he tries to gut it out, and lift her up onto his shoulder to give her a fire thunder driver. However, as Hiroshi has the Rikishi driver set up, Seromine cruelly comes from behind and picks the bad leg of the big man with a chop block. Hiroshi's leg bends nastily as he falls down. Seromine doesn't show any remorse. He picks Stacy up by the back of the head and throws her out of the ring. Then he takes the foot of Hiroshi and drops back, performing a foot DDT into the mat, sending waves of pain shooting up the injured leg of Hiroshi.

Jerry Andrews: Oh, come on, the man is clearly injured!!

Ace Anderson: He ignored medical advice and demanded to stay in this match! That's a special kind of arrogance right there.

Stacy is trying to get up on the outside. Suddenly, she is dropped by a shoulder block from Monster. Monster flexes his arms and roars. In the ring, Seromine is performing a series of six, six, six stomps, concentrating on the injured limb of Hiroshi.

Jerry Andrews: This really isn't neccessary, he's Absolution stomping Hiroshi's limbs to oblivion.

Monster lifts Stacy's limp body up on his shoulder, and he goes running, charging her forward and intending to dash her face first into the steel ringpost. Stacy counters, however, sliding down behind his back and pushing the giant Monster forward, so Monster goes flinging shoulder first and hits the steel ringpost with a crack. He falls down, moaning, and Stacy takes a second to recoup in the aisle. In the ring, Hiroshi is agonizingly trying to move, roll onto his side to take some of the pressure off his bad knee. He rolls onto his stomach and Seromine mercilessly places him in a Last Chancery. His entire body now firmly in the red, Hiroshi yells in pain as he's choked off.

Jerry Andrews: Original Sin is locked in. Hiroshi is too damaged, he can't push out of this in any way, shape or form.

Ace Anderson: Seromine took advantage.

Hiroshi limply taps out, and the referee orders the bell rung. Seromine releases the hold and sits up as "Be Still For The Presence of the Lord" begins playing. Destiny Willard enters the ring and helps her husband up as Seromine holds his hands out in jubilation.

Sasha Greene: Here is your winner... SEROMINE!!!

Stacy Jones is looking on, disappointed, but also too winded to have gotten back in the ring in time. Hiroshi is near tears as he is describing the new pain in his knee to a doctor over by the ropes.

Jerry Andrews: Seromine picks up another win tonight, and Hiroshi desperately needs to go to the hospital.

Ace Anderson: But they're going to need a bariatric stretcher and a crane to move him!

Seromine taunts his foes, as he and Destiny exit the ring. A large group of EMTS are bringing the big stretcher over to ringside and the crowd is getting hushed for the injured Hiroshi.

Jerry Andrews: All I know is that Hiroshi's knee took a bad hit in that fall, and then Seromine did a lot of damage to it afterward. I have no idea how hurt he could be.

It takes the help of Alexa Black and multiple EMTS to help Hiroshi onto the big stretcher.

"I'm from a planet both in and out of space...."

...A piano begins to play...

"I am that weeping joy you feel when you accomplish something difficult...on your own...The triumphant trumpet sound one hears when an evil unjust is corrected!"

Bright lights flash. Thunder rolls. And lightening strikes at the top of the stage, for a second you catch a glimpse of a masked figure. With another flash it's gone.

"...However I am also that pit of despair that someone feels when they do bad and are about to get caught...a sinking feeling of strong justice like PURE joy! Those of unjust motives beware!"

The music suddenly picks up and from above the ring a masked man with a elgoant flowing cape is slowly lowering from above. His arms stretched out palms up, masked head looking down, and his legs together as if he was concentrating on lowering himself.

"I AM MISTER PURE! THE HERO OF THE MASSES!"

Another flash of blinding light and smoke! Mr Pure is now standing in the ring when the smoke settles. His arms crossed looking down. Smoke! A flash! Mr Pure is standing on the ring post balanced perfectly with his arms above his head small traces of lightening erupting from the palms of his hands! The crowd is cheering loudly for the newcomer as he climbs down with nimble grace.

Jerry Andrews: "The crowd loves this guy, but I don't know yet."

Ace Anderson: "He is flashy! And just!"

Jerry Andrews: "Oh and pure?"

Ace Anderson: "Exactly! We need more charm in Pure Class, a real Pure Class hero?!"

Jerry Andrews: "Yeah sure bud! Anyways Mister Pure this relatively unknown masked hero debuted at last Trauma after issuing a blind challenge."

Ace Anderson: "And Gabriel, formerly Rick Majors, answered that challenge."

Jerry Andrews: "And lost."

Mr. PURE!: "Thank you people of Earth and fans of the Pure Class WRESTLING WORLD! It feels me PURELY..."

He pauses to give a big thumbs up!

Mr. PURE!: "Full of joy and positivity that I know coming here will turn things around for Everyone! It only takes a moment out of your day to help a neighbour, an old person across the street...which oddly enough happens a lot!...or just being a decent person. We can do anything! Now on to business as it goes, the man Gabriel who heeded and accepted my challenge I usually extend my gratitude towards a fellow warrior, win or lose, because it takes a strong man to step into a challenge unknowing of their opponent!"

Mr. PURE! takes a moment to cross his arms into a quick X and bow.

Mr. PURE!: "Also I'll give your God a call! I know him very well, he's oddly enough a Space Pirate for a collective group of religious heads like Budda, Muhammad, Guru Nanak, and Steven the Atheist! All a buncha great warriors just like you Gabriel, but trust me they all have their short comings with millions upon millions looking up to them for answers...."

In a overly dramatic fashion he does a quick twirl which ends with him pointing towards the backstage.

Mr. PURE!: "...Look upon yourself young man and find that inner peace that YOU DESERVE!"

A small rumble of thunder rolls over the arena. Mr. PURE! puts his hand down on his hip scanning the crowd from side to side.

Mr. PURE!: "You have my respect in simpler terms, and any time you feel ready to try again I'll be here. With that I must move on to my second matter of business, you all have seen what I have to offer in the form of competition so I again am reaching out to the Pure Class combatants, another challenge! However I would like the man or woman who accepts this challenge to accept it here and now! Let the people of the Pure Class stew in anticipation of something PURELY AMAZING!"

"Ghost" by Clutch starts to play over the PA system, and the crowd starts to buzz with interest. Not much is known about Arsen Goodstone, but it is known this is his first appearance after his loss to "The Monster." The quiet yet imposing man casually walks out onto the stage, using his cane as a light aid in his venture. Goodstone stops in the middle of the stage to slowly survey the crowd with a lightly interested, but ponderous gaze. Both of his hands are resting on top of his cane, set in front of him. Tapping it twice on the floor, Arsen descends the ramp towards the ring, seemingly in no hurry.

Ace Anderson: This is the first time we've seen this Goodstone character since he took a loss! What I want to know is, how much stock can you put into a 'hitman' if he loses?

Jerry Andrews: Not very much is known about Goodstone, but he did have a powerful showing against Hiroshi Yukio.

Ace Anderson: I still wouldn't hire him. If I invest my money into something, I expect guaranteed results!

Jerry Andrews: I can't really debate that, but what I can debate is: why is he out here now to accept Mr. Pure's challenge?

Goodstone has reached the ring and climbs the steps onto the apron. His gaze is now intently fixed on Pure as he enters the squared circle over the second rope. Stepping calmly into the center of the ring, Goodstone stands a few feet away from the man who's making a mark issuing open challenges. Mr. Pure simply nods in approval, and offers his hand to Arsen for a handshake and a token of good sportsmanship. Clutch fades away, and all is heard now is the crowd buzzing. The hand is still extended, but Goodstone only slowly glances down at it for a moment...then cuts the tension by shaking his hand! The PCW arena lets out a good cheer, as they anticipate another great showing by Mr. Pure.

Jerry Andrews: Now this is interesting, Ace. From what little I know about these two men, they are virtually polar opposites. It looks like we have ourselves another open challenge matchup, and it's happening right now!

A referee enters the ring, and Mr. Pure backs up to his corner before being told, ready for a fight and adhering to the rules. Goodstone stays in the center though, and raises a perplexed eyebrow at the referee, who's asking him to go to his corner for the match to begin. Goodstone waits a few moments, but then appears to be taking off his wide brimmed hat. The fans cheer again, loving the slow build to this interesting matchup. Their cheers turn sour, however, as Goodstone places the hat back on his head.

Ace Anderson: What's going on here? I thought we were getting a fight?

The referee admonishes Arsen for not complying and backing into his corner, and places a hand on his arm to force him back. "Wrong move son," Arsen can be heard saying before reversing into an arm grab of his own, and tossing the referee back into the corner he was just then being forced into. The referee holds his hands up in fear as Goodstone takes his turn doing the admonishing, just in a more vulgar fashion, jabbing a finger into the zebra's chest. Mr. Pure has had enough, and attempts to step in and stop the altercation by spinning Goodstone around by his arm! Arsen spins, and waves his cane over his head, threatening to brain Mr. Pure with it for touching him. The latter only steps back into a fighting stance, waiting for the swing.

Jerry Andrews: I'm not sure what's going on here, but it appears that Mr. Pure won't attack Goodstone until the bell rings! Those are the rules...right?

Ace Andrews: I guess. Polite people who follow the rules don't do very well around here, though.

The strike never comes, however, and Goodstone lowers his cane back to rest by his side. With his free hand, he reaches inside his coat and pulls forth a microphone.

Arsen Goodstone: Before I made my way out here, I heard you talking about helping your neighbor, being nice to people, talking to God...but for someone with so many moral scruples, you forgot one: DON'T ASSUME. Just because I walked out here and shook your hand, you assumed I was answering your open challenge. How did you know I'm not just a fan? How did you know I didn't just...just respect you or something of the sort? You instantly turned your mind to fighting me. Don't get me wrong, we ARE going to fight. Make no mistake, mate. Just not tonight. I shook your hand because where I'm from, we were taught respect too. Before you beat a man within an inch of his life, you shake his hand and introduce yourself. While you didn't give me enough time to do that, I'll just do it now. My name is Arsen Goodstone, and I am going to help you meet your maker.

The fans boo at this, and PURE only stays in his fighting stance, waiting for the first blow to come.

Arsen Goodstone: Now usually, on a regular day, I wouldn't bother going through such formalities, but my most recent employer wants you hurt...and very badly may I add...but he wants it to be so fuckin' public that everybody in the world sees it. So I'm laying it out there on the table for ya, for the whole world to see...we ARE going to fight, boy. But it'll be on my terms.

Mr. PURE! releases himself from his combat stance finally, neither man would fight here today, and places a hand under his chin, where he proceeds to tap his chin in thought.

Mr. PURE!: "Mr. Goodstone, I do extend my apologies, I found your moral fiber to be questionable with the innocence of the referee and I still stand here with it in question. However you've accepted my challenge, or as it seems you've been contracted to accept it, so beware."

Mr. PURE! dramatically points at Goodstone with his other hand in his hip.

Mr. PURE!: "You make a mistake to fight for money and in bastardly ways! A warrior? Ha! I will beat you at whatever game you decide Mr. Goodstone, so make it worthwhile little man because it'll be the only one you get."

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, we're back. There's certainly had a lot of carnage and injury here tonight and something tells me that's going to continue.

Ace Anderson: You're telling me. What we have next is a falls count anywhere match between two guys who simply do not like one another.

Sasha Greene: The following contest is the Falls Count Anywhere match! Introducing first…

The lights go out. Suddenly the arena is completely lit up with white light as the opening notes of "There's a World" by Neil Young play.

Sasha Greene: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Weighing 219lbs, GABRIEL!

Gabriel emerges, wearing a tan button up shirt, brown overalls and heavy dark boots. He clasps his hands together and smiles widely before walking down to the ring.

"There's a world you're living in
No one else has your part
All God's children in the wind
Take it in and blow hard.

Look around it, have you found it
Walking down the avenue?
See what it brings,
could be good things
In the air for you.."

Gabriel climbs the ring steps and pauses. He then enters the ring, says a quick prayer, and awaits his opponent/the start of the match.

Sasha Greene: And his opponent!

The arena goes dark and the hook to Kanye West & Jay-Z’s “Who Gon Stop Me” Starts to play and lights start to flash from the stage before a red carpet is rolled out down the ramp and a big spotlight appears on the stage, out walks the Hollywood Hero, Gerard Angelo. Dressed in his wrestling gear and his trademark shades, he extends his arms and does a spin as he soaks up the cheers from the fans.

Sasha Greene: From Hollywood, California. He weighs 221lbs, “The Hollywood Hero” GERARD ANGELO!

Gerard walks down the red carpet, smirk plastered on his face. As he gets to the bottom, Gerry slides into the ring and leaps onto the second turnbuckle and extends his arms again, soaking up more cheers. He repeats this on every turnbuckle before he lays across the top turnbuckle like a hammock awaiting his opponent.

Falls Count Anywhere Match
Gabriel vs Gerard Angelo
Referee: Charles Lim

Gerry is chomping at the bit for the bell to ring after he removes himself from the turnbuckle. Given what transpired at the last show, who can blame him? Gabriel himself looks ready to pick up where he left off. The referee gives both men a look and has to issue restraint to the individuals as they move closer. Knowing he will be powerless to do anything, he calls for the bell.

DING!
DING!
DING!

Like a bull that is seeing red, Gerry pounces on Gabriel, rushing him back to the corner to unload consecutive shoulder blocks to the midsection. Gabriel clubs Gerry about the back to halt the progress as he trades places to drive in a few of his own. Gabriel is clipped in the teeth with a sharp knee as position switches a second time. Angelo lacerates Gabe’s chest with some brutal, stinging knife edge chops that are so loud even the fans in the nose bleeds are cringing. Or WOOOO-ing. Or both. Gabriel covers up as he takes a stroll down the side of the ring. Angelo gives him a high knee to make him speed up. Gabriel deposits in the corner where he gets a boot into the gut of The Hollywood Hero, doubling him over. Angelo finds his face thrown into the top turnbuckle before taking some stiff forearms to his lower back.

Gabriel turns him around to go for an Irish whip. It gets reversed. Gabriel reverses that. Angelo hits the ropes and comes back with a blockbuster! He rolls over for a mount, issuing ground and pound fists to the head of Gabriel. As Gabe covers up, Gerry takes to slamming the back of his head instead. Gabriel is brought upright and run to the buckles himself. Angelo spins him around and reintroduces him. He follows again only this time, Gabriel is flung face first into the steel ring post. On the rebound he is catapulted with a back suplex. Gabriel lands with a crunch before he tries rolling out of the ring. Gerry isn’t about to let him succeed. Gabriel is bounced off the ropes but wraps his arms around them to avoid a return. Gerry charges like he is going to clothesline him. It suckers Gabriel into giving his thinking away, allowing Gerard to catch his feet and dump him outside to the apron.

Gabriel blocks a right hand from his position, turning Gerry around for the slightest of seconds. Gabriel reaches over to pull him neck first over the top rope, slingshotting him onto his hands and knees. Gabriel re-enters to hit a knee trembler. Angelo is rolled onto his back so the offense can continue via knees to the head. Each one coming with aggression. Angelo is swung to the ropes while Gabriel crosses in the opposite direction. His attempted chop block to the previously injured left knee is leapt over. The two men exchange European Uppercuts at the same time, knocking the other away from themselves. Gabriel is able to shake it off a hair quicker. His running charge nets a clothesline that takes both men over the top and to the floor. They brawl back up to their feet with neither gaining the upper hand. The self professed “Man Without Peer” is able to spin around Gabriel in order to push him into the ring post. Not satisfied, he takes Gabriel by the hair before slamming his head right off the very spot. As he goes down, “Gerry” Springer slaps some hands and fires up the anti-Gabriel faithful.

Jerry Andrews: The action is coming fast and furious here, but one of PCW’s rising stars has himself the upper hand.

Ace Anderson: These two dislike each other so much, you’d think they were Tyrese and Dwayne Johnson.

Gabriel is propped against the barricade, but he never allows Gerard the chance to leave him there. Angelo is deposited spine first across the top of the rail, forcing him into an arch as he goes down. Gabriel stomps him about the head while pushing his foot down on the final. He demands the nearest fan to move so he can take their chair from him. Gabriel aids Gerry to his feet before taking position with the chair. He doesn’t swing for the fences like some may expect. He jams it in the ribs to force Angelo to move away. THEN he swings for the fences with repeated shots to the back. The chair is thrown in the aisle. Gerard is lifted up and dropped right on it with a nasty looking brainbuster. Gabriel hooks the legs for the first pin of the match.

1.

2.
Angelo kicks out without much trouble. Gabriel questions the count, but otherwise remains the aggressor. Angelo is taken further up the ramp with the chair in Gabe’s free hand. Gerry sees an opening by pulling him into a sit-out powerbomb that lands right where the stage and ramp meet. The chair slides across the steel frame. Gabriel clings to the back of his head while flailing his feet about. Shaking out the cobwebs of the brainbuster, The Hollywood Hero collects Seromine’s messenger. Seizing him in a hammerlock, Gabriel is powerslammed right on top of that chair. Angelo muscles it from under him and returns the favor of last week by pummeling his body until the chair whimpers no mas. What’s that you say? Chairs don’t feel? Well everytime they are dented, they feel something, buddy!

Angelo basks in the adulation of the fans and their chants of GERRY! GERRY! GERRY! Gabriel is placed in a headlock and run right into the LED wall. He leans against it for support while Angelo backs up. Gerry charges him THROUGH the very LED wall, pushing the center out and knocking it offline. That further gets the fans cheering him. Angelo remains on top for a pin.

1.

2,

Gabriel kicks out as this match moves backstage. Gerard suplexes him onto the stairs that lead up to the stage after blowing the black curtain back out of his way. Gabriel writhes as he is forced to crawl past the gorilla position. Gerard rips out a monitor while stalking Gabriel into the concourse. He picks his spot, but in actuality has waited just a little too long, as Gabriel sweeps the left leg out. Down goes Gerry and down goes the monitor on top of him. With Angelo curled into a ball (the object landed on his chest), Gabriel is finally afforded a break from further punishment being dished out. This gives him a chance to retrieve a trunk. He wheels it right into Gerry, then lifts it so he can roll it OVER him. Gerard fights for air following the pressure applied. Gabriel brings him to his feet, slamming his head right off the trunk’s lid. It goes for a momentary roll and Gerry moves further down the concourse.

Jerry Andrews: I shudder to think of where this may end up.

Ace Anderson: Does your mother live nearby? I hear its been a long time since anyone pinned her in bed!

Gabriel whips Angelo into one of the cement columns. Like he were staggering out of the corner, Gabriel back body drops him onto the arena’s hard floor. The splat echoes around the corners with some noticeable cringing from staff that pass by in the background. Gabriel reaches down to retrieve his opponent, but Angelo surprises him with an inside cradle!

1!

2!

3!!

Not really. Gabriel kicks out at two. He then introduces mister forearm to mister face. Gerard is guided by the wrist to his feet. Gabriel kicks him in the left knee, taking him down to a kneel. “That’s right, GERRY!” this is said in mocking fashion. “Bow down and PRAISE Seromine as your Lord and Savior! Only he can save you from your sins!” Angelo strikes with a low blow in response. “Fuck your savior and FUCK YOU!” he says in no uncertain terms as Gabriel clings to his nether region. Angelo lifts Gabriel’s legs in the air and then forces him to make a wish. This is followed with a slingshot into the wall. Gabriel stumbles around the corner where he opens the first door he comes upon. Angelo blasts him from behind and proceeds to repeatedly slam the door into his head before shoving him into an empty locker room.

Gabriel is suplexed into the metal lockers themselves. Angelo digs his fingers into the small openings and with some mighty fine display of power, is able to rip a section down onto Gabe! Angelo double stomps them further down onto him and...lays across for a pin?

1!

2!

3---KICKOUT!

Or what would constitute as one as the referee feels he sees enough from underneath to count. Gabriel is dragged out, only to be put right on top with a swinging neckbreaker. Gerard uses another section of lockers for a springboard, scoring with a moonsault with absolutely no give. There is an audible splat as air is driven out of both men. Angelo punches him about the head to remain in control. He peels Gabriel off of the lockers and turns him upside down like he were going to tombstone him. Instead he powers Gabriel into a trash can and since it has wheels, he is able to transport him out of the locker room and further backstage. He pushes him into the Men’s bathroom! The faithful are heard cheering and returning to chants of GERRY! GERRY! GERRY! Gabriel frantically kicks his legs about to tip the trash over. Gerry orders everyone out. He finds some custodian supplies, one of which is an ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign that promptly gets displayed.

CHOP BLOCK takes him for a tumble onto the cold tiled floor. Angelo clutches his left knee like it just exploded on him again as Gabriel finally gets a chance to breathe. He uses a sink to pull himself up. The Hollywood Hero is lead to his feet and thrown face first into one of the mirrors. Gabriel whips him into a stall door and then into the edge of a sink. Angelo drops an F-bomb before falling to his knees. Gabriel BREAKS a mop over the back of Gerard, again drawing an obscenity as he favors his back. With a new pair of weapons, Gabriel clubs the left knee with the wooden handle like it were a baton. Satisfied with himself, Gabriel pushes it down on his throat to choke the life out of him. The mop remnants are displaced as Gabriel takes Angelo to his feet. His face is slammed over the stainless steel of a nearby urinal. Angelo is shifted into a stall where Gabriel returns the locker room door spot. Over the shoulder of Gerard, he looks at what may (or may not) be left inside of the toilet. The ghost of Jim Varney must be around because Gabriel channels his inner Ernest with an “EHHHWWW!”

It doesn’t stop him from trying to shove Gerard’s face into whatever is there. Angelo resists with all of his might as he manages to flush the toilet in the process. Gabriel runs him face first into the stall wall. He then maneuvers around so that his back is to the toilet. Angelo is pulled into a stump piledriver where his head lands partially on the seat itself. Angelo slumps backwards against the door as his body just narrowly falls through the opening. Gabriel pulls the door towards him in order to leave the stall. Action departs the bathroom and down to scattered props (tables, chairs etc). Soon enough, Gabriel takes the fight out onto the loading dock! Gabriel tries to piledrive (or powerbomb) Angelo right off the concrete platform, but he’s having none of it. Back body drop! No! Gabriel rolls him through like a sunset flip and instead has himself a pin.

1.

2.

Kickout!

Gabriel picks Angelo up following another kick to his left knee to keep him hobbled. Gerard responds with a sudden release German Suplex that shoots Gabriel OFF of the dock itself and to the pavement below!!

Jerry Andrews: OH MY---THAT COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY HURT GABRIEL!

There isn’t an ounce of genuine concern behind those words.

Ace Anderson: Gerard Angelo must think poor Gabriel is a stuntman and that the PCW Arena is some sort of movie set. Horrible landing.

Jerry Andrews: Conspicuous by his absence, you have to wonder where Seromine and his cult are at…

Ace Anderson: Seromine is wherever God needs him to be. You just mind your own business and call the match.

The referee is below the dock level to check on Gabriel’s well being as he favors his neck. Luckily for him he didn’t hit pure pavement, but rather had his fall broke by some discarded pallets. Gerard works his knee back into working order. He’ll have a limp, but that’s a small price to pay in order to get to that pay window and a move up the ladder. Gerard rolls himself down to ground level to retrieve Gabriel in the cover of night. He fires some basic shots to move him along one of the trailers. Gabriel is forcefully ran against the trailer itself, taking him down to a knee. Gerard DEMANDS someone fetch him the biggest ladder that can be found. That someone is the cameraman. Angelo operates the camera as a stand in operator. The PROPERTY OF PCW is flung into Gabriel’s face. Gerard gently sets the camera down. Gabe finds himself ran backward into a concrete slab and taken down with a double arm DDT. Angelo gets a pin.

1.

2.

3---KICKOUT.

Angelo looks up at the stars while shaking his head disapprovingly. Within minutes he has himself a rather massive ladder. Gerard instructs the cameraman to prop it against the trailer. Once that is done, he demands him to drive a car around where to park it. There is understandable hesitation. Gerard tells him not to worry. PCW will make sure he is paid more for his time. In the meantime, Gabriel is forced to climb to the top of the production trailer. Angelo instructs the referee to be on standby. Gabriel catches him with one foot on top, scoring with a fisherman DDT. Both men are down on top of the trailer with a watchful moon high in the sky. Anxiety and anticipation are being felt by everyone in the arena as they watch this on the tron. Gabriel slams the left knee of “Mr Star-power” off the trailer several times to continue working that over. If this were an actual wrestling match, and not a glorified street fight, he may show off his submission skills.

But Gabriel is here to punish the sinner in the name of Seromine! (his words) and if that means deviating from the norms of an actual wrestling match, then so be it.

Gabriel pulls Angelo into a snap suplex. This is followed by half hatch knee strikes as Gerard moves precariously close to the edge of the truck. Gabriel looks over the back of it to get a look at the parked car (the model is unimportant). A sick smile comes across his face. Angelo is kicked about the body to remain down. Gabriel brings him slowly to his feet. He pulls him into a front face lock…

Jerry Andrews: DON’T DO IT, GABRIEL!

BELIEVE IS HIT FROM THE TRAILER DOWN ONTO THE HOOD OF THE CAR!!!

HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!

The hood of car is completely pushed in. The windshield has been blown out with the driver and passenger side windows. Gabriel finds himself rolled onto the ground while Gerard looks flattened on top of the vehicle. Neither man is moving, which leaves the referee beside himself. He frantically checks on their well being in the meantime as that was one massive spot in the match. No less than fifteen minutes go by before Gabriel is shown limping back towards the inside of the arena, leaving the view of the framed shot. Gerard is being helped off by numerous officials, but can be heard mumbling a question about where Gabriel went. Without realizing it, he shorts the feed to the show in going after him. Tech support, do your job!

Trauma returns with a live shot of commentary at ringside.

Jerry Andrews: Well fans, we have to apologize for the technical difficulties. We don’t know where Gabriel or Gerard Angelo are at this moment, only that they are somewhere in the arena. More importantly is their well being following that massive signature from Gabriel.

Ace Anderson: This was booked as a falls count anywhere match and it has certain lived up to the billing. With that said, professional wrestlers are trained athletes and what none of what you see them do, should ever be attempted at home.

Jerry never gets the chance to speak again as commotion from the faithful alert everyone to the emergence of GABRIEL! He is shown slowly limping onto the stage and not much further before dropping onto his hands and knees. Like with Gerard, officials come to check on him. He pushes them away as they try to render help. LOUD, and I mean, LOUD cheers suddenly break out. GERARD ANGELO IS ON THE TRON! Not just projected from the video feed, he is physically standing on the display around it. Camera flashes like a hollywood premiere provide a striking visual. The moment Gabriel realizes what is happening is the moment everything is too late…

CORKSCREW CROSSBODY BLOCK OFF OF THE TRON!!

Gerard topples into EVERYONE on the stage as he winds up rolling down the ramp. Gabriel has been buried under referees, cameramen, and random staff members!! GERRY! GERRY! GERRY! Angelo clings to his midsection following the ariel, but did what he had to do do. He digs deep for that extra ounce of grit to see things through. He came to prove something to himself and to everyone else tonight. Somehow, someway he is able to stand under his own power. Angelo takes himself up the ramp and finds where Gabriel is at. CENTER OF ATTENTION hits with authority! Gerard doesn’t give Gabe the chance to fall. A transitional powerbomb is the only thing in his future---a RUNNING powerbomb that is…

RIGHT OFF THE STAGE AND INTO THE ELECTRICAL EQUIPMENT!

Sparks fly everywhere in the wreckage! Angelo muscles Gabriel into a pin. A new referee races from around the corner to make the count with help from the faithful.

1!

2!

3!

NO! NO! NO! NOT SO FAST, ACTION STAR!

Gabriel NARROWLY kicks out!! Somehow, someway, he manages to stay alive. The sheer punishment these two are putting each other through is ridiculous. Time further elapses before Gerard is able to shift the fight into the crowd. Gabriel catches everyone off guard with a second chop block to the left knee. Gerard goes down instantly. Gabe crawls little by little to the concrete steps where he has the rail to assist himself up with. He takes some time to dump Angelo in the upper deck of the arena floor. Gabriel fights tooth and nail towards one of the tunnels. When he returns, he returns with two tables. Gabriel strains to lift his head towards the second deck of seats. He orders nearby fans to move out of his way.

The table legs are pulled out so that the objects can be stacked. Gerard is slowly pulled into a headlock driver, WORD OF THE LORD into rows of seats. Gabriel isn’t satisfied with taking the pin. He wants to make Gerard pay as much as he can. Angelo is picked up and spread across the top table. Gabriel brushes the referee out of his way as he disappears backstage. When he returns, he’s in the SECOND DECK! Gabriel goes down step by step, looking beaten and exhausted while also favoring his neck. He peeks over the edge. Gerard remains where he put him.

“PRAISE SEROMINE!”

Mass boos...

“PRAISE THE LORD!” Gabriel demands as he grips the safety barrier.

Jerry Andrews: Gabriel can’t….you don’t….

Ace Anderson: He hit Angelo with his finishing move!! Gabriel, DON’T DO IT!

Gabriel puts a foot on the edge. Then takes a sharp inhale. He checks to make sure Gerard is still there. Gabe says a quick prayer and takes flight!! ELBOW DROP OFF THE SECOND DECK!! ANGELO MOVES! GABRIEL CRASHES THROUGH BOTH TABLES IN SPECTACULAR FASHION!!

HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!

Gabriel crashes and burns and the impact is not good. The tables are history. Chairs are bent out of shape. He’s motionless from the spot. Cameras pick up a shot of SALVATION looking down from where he jumped. Seromine looks detached from the situation. Destiny has a base level of concern, but is it genuine? The creepiness of the animal masks that cover the followers faces is only enhanced when one looks at them from the ground up. Seromine tilts his head to the side with his eyes looking up to heaven for a split second. He then mouths something in Destiny’s ear. She nods and leads everyone in a prayer. Once that finishes, they turn and march back up the steps.

Down in the upper deck, Gerard initially has Gabriel pinned, but decides to roll off of it. He isn’t so quick to his feet, but has just enough left in him to drop Gabriel with a rotating, spectacular, HOLLYWOOD STUNNER! The impact of which throws Gabriel in the air and over the wall, where he lands on the ground floor. Angelo crawls over the wall and this time, stays on him for a pin.

1!

2!

3!!

The referee motions not only for the bell, but also EMT’s as this match is thankfully over.

Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, Gerard Angelo!!

The Hollywood Hero finds himself asking for help from the fans to get back to his feet. He only gives the slightest of looks back to Gabriel before being assisted away in mass celebration. Medics arrive to Gabriel’s position while “Who Gon Stop Me” fills the arena. As time goes on, Gerard’s music is cut and those boos for Gabriel turn into a hushed silence as he is carefully put on a stretcher. While being wheeled out, those one time boos actually become cheers. Gabriel is shown being loaded into an Ambulance, as well as driven away to the nearest hospital.

As Trauma returns, that unmistakable sound of a Zippo lighter flipped open, sizzling tobacco and a deep draw of breath echoes out over the masses. Then, the arena lighting shines brightly, flickers and dims with the bending of steel guitar string reverberating off of the walls of the arena. While not pitch-black darkness, the arena is dimmed just enough to enhance the fluttering dance of reds, oranges and yellows. Large billows of smoke escape from under the stage and ramp then rise into the rafters. Dallas Moore gets into the first verse of “Dark Horse Rider” as the heathens amongst the Faithful make themselves heard.

“MADE-IN TEX-AS!”

And, Johnny Matthews doesn't leave them waiting long. He drifts out from behind the curtain; finally, with the music that ushers him to the ring in every other building coast to coast strumming from the sound system of the Pure Class Arena. Widely, yet unfavorably, known; he remains every bit as notorious as he was two weeks ago, when he attacked Horacio Mortimer. Standing at the top of the ramp, smoke from a cigarette pinched in his crooked, yellow grin swirled and spun up, past the blacked-out Aviators that hid his green eyes and up under the brim of the Stetson fedora that shadowed his face. From the black Harley¤Davidson Badlands tucked under the pant legs of his heavily-patched jeans to the officially-licensed PCW “Return to Glory” T-shirt under his signature vest, the crazed country rebel was headed down the ramp.

Jerry Andrews: After weeks of blindside attacks, Matthews is on his way to the ring with something on his mind.

Matthews idles down the ramp, braking frequently to slap hands and bump fists with fans along both sides of the ramp. As he passes by, the camera catches a flask in the rear left pocket and a microphone in the rear right pocket of his jeans before changing angles. At ringside, he ascends the ring steps, wipes his feet on the apron and ducks the top and middle ropes, entering the ring. He goes to the center and takes position, looking out into the crowd as the majority cheers for him and some show their disapproval. He banks on the mixed reaction, it allows him to sell a “RESPECT JOHNNY!” T-shirt right next to one that boldly states, “FUCK JOHNNY!” That second one, a multipurpose statement, or so he tries to sell it to the ladies.

Jerry Andrews: You cannot deny his popularity, Ace.

Ace Anderson: Popularity will only get you so far, Jerry.

Inside the ring, surrounded by the Faithful heathens that he has entertained for more than a decade and a half, Matthews retrieved the microphone and raised it to his shaded glare. He waits nearly a minute as they continue to chant and cheer for him. When they finally settle he clears his throat into the live microphone, sending feedback out of the speakers.

Johnny Matthews: Let me tell you something, I have a lot I need to get off my fucking chest and there are a few people backstage that need to pay attention. Did any of you know that, in the last fifteen years, I have worked more than five-hundred matches? A dozen or so here and a dozen or so there, but a majority of those matches worked right here, in the Pure Class Arena? I know, in twelve years, I have only had about fifty matches here in this ring, but that's more than anywhere else.

Matthews pounds the coffin nail to his kisser until it gives him a scorched kiss in return. He spits it to the mat and grinds it into the canvas under the toe of his boot before continuing.

Johnny Matthews: I know in our time shared together I have been on a hiatus or two, but I've always returned to Pure Class Wrestling. I've been told to lead all of you to believe I have been away from the ring for this, that and the other because PCW refuses to acknowledge the existence of a bigger world outside of the Carolinas, but the Internet won't allow me to bluff any of you fuckers tonight. Most of you are aware that Seromine and Dominator recently invaded my supershow in Texas to get my attention. I've worked in New York, Boston and Miami all in the last two months. To attempt to make you believe any different would be idiotic. Like I said, a dozen matches here and a dozen more there, all in the name of entertaining you.

The camera goes wide left, over the shoulders of a group of Faithful in the far section. In the ring, Matthews pulls the sunglasses from his face, folds them and hangs them in the neck of his T.

Johnny Matthews: While I'm not quite finished entertaining you, I am going to wrap up my doing so actively competing within these ropes. I'm doing so over the next twelve months. I'm doing so to follow in my father’s footsteps; to follow his father's footsteps; to finally settle down in a promoter’s role and bring good old-fashioned wrasslin’ from Texas to the mainstream wrestling audience.

The camera sweeps right and pans in on Matthews as he continues.

Johnny Matthews: My last match won't be with Dominator, but it will be with Pure Class Wrestling next year at Living a Legacy. Between then and now, I plan on having a dozen or so matches here and there to close ties and work with some talent that I have never worked and always wanted to.

Matthews’ bloodshot emeralds pierced the lense of the camera as he continued.

Johnny Matthews: One of those matches will be against Dominator at Return to Glory on August nineteenth. Last man standing. That's me. I'm not going to make this easy for Dom, I've already eliminated his soundboard. Until it is you and I, man to man, right here, I will keep eliminating elements of your order until there absolutely isn't any. Chaos, you don't bode well. Catastrophe, you tend to fall apart. That is where I thrive, Man! And, Dom, as much as I'd like to take that big head off of your shoulders, I do not want your fucking crown.

A collective gasp silenced the entire attendance. Everyone was shocked at what he had just said, their jaws on the floor as their eyes widened.

Johnny Matthews: I've only held one championship title in these fifteen years and I don't want another one. My sole desire is to cut you down and leave you lying there. Plain and simple, I am going to stand over you like I did your mouthpiece last show. I am going to leave you, not broken, but damaged. You, Mortimer and Grimm’s mom will all feel the anguish of defeat for years. The sour taste of them Hungover Blues will ring in your head until the end of time. Long after I’ve concluded this End of the Road Tour, you will NEVER be the fucking same big guy. Count the days…

“THANK-YOU JOHN-NY!”

Matthews lowered the microphone as his music hit the speakers and Dallas Moore drove home with a growl, “I ain't no bad guy.” Matthews made his exit to one helluvan ovation.

As Trauma returns, we join this backstage encounter already in progress.

Grimm and Dominator stand not far from the entrance to the arena proper. Grimm, with arms crossed, all red hair and beard and stoicism, looks up at the Zenith. This newest member of the Black Hand grinds his teeth. Spit flecks the corners of his mouth as he rages.

“I’m sick of him, Phinehas!” he rants, passionate in his hatred. “I’m sick to the back teeth of him. I’m sick of hearing his name. I’m sick of seeing his face. To break him will be my medicine. I’ll break his bones! I’ll tear his face off! I’ll grind him into putty!”

Grimm nods. “Yes. I get it. I really do. But I suggest you rethink all of that.”

Dominator vibrates with a consistent low-level fury. He clinches and unclenches massive fists. “And why is that? Matthews deserves all of that, and more.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But that’s not the issue. The issue is that if you do carry out even a fraction of that, he’ll be in no condition to compete at the pay per view. In that Last Man Standing match.”

A grunt. “Yes, but…”

Grimm rocks back and forth on his heels. “Sure, it would feel great to pound him into dust. But if you wait, you’ll be able to do anything you want to the guy. And do it in an officially sanctioned match in front of God and everyone. Believe me, it will be worth it.”

Dominator rolls his shoulders and cricks his neck from side to side. “Fine. Let’s say you’re right. But we know how Johnny Matthews operates. Heck, we know how Justin Michaels operates. Just because I stay my hand doesn’t guarantee they won’t attempt their usual nonsense. Their blindside attacks and interference is basically implied at this point.”

“True, but that’s where the Black Hand comes in.” Grimm uncrosses his arms and raises his left hand, wiggling his black leather fingers. “I may not be prancing around ringside during your matches, but I will be watching. Those two have set a nasty precedence and I’ll be ready to…even things out should the need arise.”

The Black Hand may, on occasion, kill its darlings. But not always.

A stagehand approaches. “Five minutes ‘til go-time, Mr. Atkinson.”

“Five minutes and seventeen seconds, you ignorant git!” scolds Dominator with a hiss, tapping the face of his wristwatch with the tip of his finger. He moves to find his mark. His myriad watches glint in the lights shining through the entryway onto the stage. Grimm reaches up to rest his hand on the titan’s shoulder. Dominator looks into those pale blue eyes. Down there, where rests a cold calculating malice just biding its time until a great thaw. Dominator sees, and understands.

Grimm says, “I’ll be watching…as will you.”

“Of course,” says Dominator, turning towards the curtains.

Sasha Greene: The following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the PCW Underground Title! 

Given how these matches usually go, the announcement draws nothing but praise.

Jerry Andrews: I'm not sure what else we could see here tonight folks, after what we've already seen, but I know that the Underground always delivers.

Ace Anderson: There's a lot to follow here, but I believe Dominator and Holden will tear this house down tonight. Perhaps literally.

The grinding guitars and drums begin their assault. After a few moments Holden steps of from the back. He surveys the crowd and lifts both fists into the air before beginning his trek to the ring.

Sasha Greene: Making his way to the ring, standing six foot-five and weighing in at three hundred and twenty-five pounds and hails from SLO; he is "The Bastard" Hoooooool-den Rrrroooossssssss!

He launches himself onto the apron from the floor in one quick leap before climbing into the ring. He heads to his corner in anticipation of the start of the match.

Sasha Greene: And his opponent…

The lights slowly fade to black. Flashes of cameras give intermittent glimmers of the darkened surroundings. There is a moment of silence as the crowd awaits with anticipation. The Tron slowly illuminates with the image of a ticking clock as the opening drum beats to Breaking Benjamin’s “Evil Angel” echo throughout the arena. The crowd suddenly comes alive as the guitars make themselves heard. As the first verse begins to play, he finally appears on the top of the stage…

…DOMINATOR…

The Zenith glares towards the crowd massed to his left, then to his right before slowly raising his left arm into the air, revealing a gold plated watch that envelopes his wrist. A shower of orange sparks begin to fall from the top of the Tron, briefly masking the Entrance Video as Dominator shows off his bulging biceps to the crowd.

Sasha Greene: From Salisbury, England. He weighs three hundred and sixty-five pounds. He is the PCW Underground Champion, DOMINATOR!

Jerry Andrews: And he is exactly as billed, folks!

He slowly walks down the ramp with a gleam in his eye, a wicked and arrogant smirk spread amidst his dark stubble. He makes no attempt to slap hands with the fans. He reaches the ring apron, grabbing the middle rope to haul him onto the side of the ring. He pushes down the top rope with his right hand, throwing one foot over the top before the other follows.

PCW Underground Championship
Underground Rules
Dominator (PCW Underground 👑) vs Holden Ross
Referee: Ed Lane

Jerry Andrew: Ross is wasting no time!

No sooner does Dominator get into the ring does he wind up back outside of it, courtesy of a running clothesline. Dominator tumbles to the floor and has no recovery time as Holden Ross, a fresh opponent, has leapt out after him. Dominator is run backwards into the steel ring steps. But it isn’t just once or twice, Ross does it a total of FIVE times. He then powers the champion up to introduce him into the ring post the same amount of times. The Underground Title itself becomes a whip as the plate sides are down and leaving their mark into the flesh of the champion. Dominator is in complete agony following all of this. Ross arrogantly straps the title around his waist before picking Dominator back up. He slings him into the rail, following in with a nearly botched clothesline that dumps him into the crowd. After all of the wars he has been in, is Dominator finally slowing down in the division??

Ross steps over to follow Dominator. He takes some stiff shots into the midsection, but they are deflected thanks to the large faceplate. Dominator instead bloodies his knuckles for his troubles. Ross boots him square in the left ear, tumbling him over as fans have departed their seats. Ross loves steel chairs. He loves hitting people with steel chairs. Dominator is about to find that out the hard way. OR NOT! A MASSIVE fist punches a massive dent in to the steel, sending it backwards into Holden’s face. He scatters chairs everywhere like he were a runaway bowling ball. Dominator stretches his back for a counted amount of time. It isn’t nearly enough, but it will have to do. Ross staggers right into a gorilla press slam. Dominator doesn’t get him in the air as high as he would like as his back gives out. Ross safely lands on his feet. He displays power of his own by pressing DOMINATOR over his head. The champ finds himself being dumped back first onto the cold cement.

Mass cringing commences.

“The Bastard” flexes the title in the air, proclaiming it looks better around his waist than anyone who came before him. As Dominator is left writing on a floor that has no give, Ross prepares his follow up. Time elapses before he does as the rookie shows his green side. Dominator is picked up into a powerbomb. Ross gets a running start. Dominator is LAUNCHED into the steel ring steps. He collapses immediately as his back is unable to absorb that kind of punishment. Ross takes his time rejoining ringside. Dominator is clutching his back as he lies face down. Ross picks him off the floor with a deadlift. Dominator is bodyslammed HARD off the thin mat. “THIS is your champion?!” he defiantly roars. A wooden table is pulled out from under the ring. Make that two. They are both pushed under the bottom rope. Ross rolls in to collect his toys. The tables are propped against each other, only one has its legs facing out. Dominator is really, really, slow to find his way back to his feet.

Jerry Andrews: You have to wonder what Johnny Matthews is thinking of this. He has a score to settle with the champion after all.

Ace Anderson: He may be the ‘Last Man Standing’ without actually having to compete for it.

Ross brings Dominator into the ring through the ropes. The Zenith picks him up to slam him down with standing spinebuster from out of nowhere! He collapses in the corner, but he finally has himself the upper hand. How long is to be determined. Ross takes the belt off in the process of getting up. He sees that Dominator can’t defend himself. Ross runs right in to a massive big boot that knocks him three steps back. He tries again and eats a second one, but does not go off his own feet. Ross shakes them off with ease. He charges a third time (because it’s the charm) and...is caught mid-air! Dominator runs full sprint across the ring to drive him with absolute power through BOTH tables. The back one explodes while the first is folded partially in two. Holden is occupying spasm city following the devastating impact.

Dominator’s inner clock gets him an adrenaline dose that is sorely needed for his back. He rolls out of the ring and amidst the pained expression, sees someone who looks similar to Flavor Flav standing in the crowd! He approaches the doppleganger with his eyes set on his oversized clock necklace.

“YEAH BOYEEEEEEE!” is the animated response to Dominator ripping it off his persons. Dominator returns to the ring to size up Holden. The moment he turns around, CRACK!! The clock is broken into an indeterminate amount of pieces. But Holden’s head is seen popped out of it. The gorilla press slam that failed earlier is now successful. Ross is flung into the fifth row like he were a cruiserweight! Given his own size, that row soon becomes the eleventh as fans and chairs are sent collectively into chaos.

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Jerry Andrews: Did you see how far he just tossed another large human being? It could be reasonably argued that he was picturing that being Johnny Matthews.

Ace Anderson: If that were Matthews, he would have been piledriven to HELL!

Dominator remains inside of the ring to watch Holden crawl his bastard ass back to the ring. He lets him get back to ringside. Dominator practically snaps the top rope as he pushes it down to step over. Ross actually surprises everyone (himself included) by launching a surprise LEAPING clothesline that dumps Dominator back into the ring on his head. Holden remains outside of the ring and on his back. With his left hand the closest to the ring, he reaches under and drags out a steel chain. It gets wrapped around his massive arm like a snake before he re-enters. Dominator is lifted to his feet and sent crashing to a corner. Ross clotheslines him with that chained arm! He runs the opposite corner, bounces off, and returns to hit a more powerful version. The ring rattles from world’s colliding. Dominator is only standing because of the top ropes keeping him that way, but rest assured, the clothesline definitely will be felt tomorrow.

Ross throws himself off the ropes. Dominator staggers into a botched discus clothesline that catches him across the face! He drops with authority as Ross falls over him for a pin.

1!

2!

3---KICKOUT!

Holden unwraps the chain only to rewrap it like an unwanted Christmas gift (Fruitcake being the worst offender) around his neck. Dominator digs his fingers underneath to prevent the full effect. Ross tries to strangle him, BUT DOMINATOR SNAPS THE CHAIN!! Holden can’t believe what he saw and neither can anyone else. Dominator has suddenly, unspeakably, found a whole new gear. Every ounce of punishment he has taken has seemed to just be absolutely absorbed. Nothing Ross fires off is having any effect. Dominator swings for the fences with his meat hooks. Ross is knocked into the ropes. He sends him across. BIG BOOT! Dominator picks up a piece of the table that still has a partial leg left. He makes sure that is set on top of Holden’s face.

He hits the ropes, jumps in the air and...comes down with a MASSIVE stomp, putting his foot through the splintering and directly in Holden’s grill. Were you expecting something else? Ross is picked off the mat by his neck and flung into the corner. Dominator charges only to eat nothing but turnbuckle pads. Holden gains some momentum off a running charge, STEAMROLLER! Dominator is sent off his feet. Ross falls on top of him again for an other cover.

1!

2!

3!--KICKOUT!

It’s more like a press out, because Dominator is having none of that three count bullshit. Ross again can’t believe that Dominator has as much left in him. It’s like as if the match were beginning all over. Dominator stops Holden dead with a massive lariat of his own. Ross looks groggy following it, but he is on his feet still. Not for long. Dominator sends him way past seven feet in the air for a long drop to the outside floor with a one handed chokeslam! It’s as nasty of a landing as it sounds. Dominator BREAKS the top rope this time. To hell with stepping over it. He takes to reaching under the ring and comes away with...a plastic Santa Claus…?

Jerry Andrews: Someone must think they are the Hallmark Channel around here. This is July, not December.

Ace Anderson: Seriously. The eight reindeer are probably thankful for not having to carry Santa’s big fat ass.

Dominator is unamused by the prop, but a weapon is a weapon. Ross has it thudded on his head over and over and over until he can no longer stand. It then gets further dented by colliding with his face. Dominator, sick of the jolly smiling, PUNTS it clear across the arena. Where it lands nobody knows. The next weapon he pulls out is no better.

Jerry Andrews: –-WHO puts this stuff under there?

A garden gnome. Yep. The bearded lawn ornament (maybe someone was thinking of Grimm) of resin material is SMASHED right over the head of Holden Ross as he dares attempt to stand back up. Pieces of colorful debris are everywhere and once again, Ross is groggy. Chants of GARDEN GNOME have been taken up. Dominator powers Holden in the air as he muscles him over his right shoulder. Ross is ran a short distance before being powerslammed over the remaining two ropes. Dominator hooks the legs for a pin of his own.

1.

2.

3---KICKOUT!

The champion is slow to return to his feet. The shot of adrenaline has finally worn off. Underground matches take years off one’s career. You have to be a real sadist to love competing in the division. Ross is sent like he is being Irish whipped only be to be pulled right back into a Scoop Slam Piledriver! Dominator picks himself back up. His gold plated watch is slipped over his massive right fist. With the available left hand he pulls Holden to his feet. Dominator reaches back and...has the punch blocked! In fact, Holden makes sure Dominator punches himself between the eyes. Ross turns on a dime to run close to the far ropes. When he returns, Dominator counters with a FORCE OF TIME! But Ross has also managed to pull him into a DDT, so neither one gets the better of the other. What they do get is some down time to question the meaning of life as everything goes dark. Their bodies are beaten up and showing battle scars. All for the prize of the Underground Title.

The referee can’t count them as there are no rules. Instead the waiting game begins and given then amount of punishment levied, this could be a while. They practically meet one another around six minutes for a ‘can you top this?’ exchange of punches. They are practically animated as neither gives an inch. IT BECOMES A BRAWL! Remember, Dominator still has that watch slipped over, so he’s busting Holden wide open with each shot. The blood loss actually slows Holden down. Little by little his shots have something taken off of them as he can’t see through the crimson mask. Holden is scooped up for a DAY BREAK. He is an unwilling participant to the signature. Ross manages to get himself back onto his feet. He kicks Dominator LOW...and to take advantage, he feels his way to a transition...Dominator is picked up for a Kudo Driver (also called a Vertabreaker)…

SINS OF THE FATHER HITS!!

And boy does it! Holden got ALL of his finisher on that delivery. The fans energy switches to anticipation as a title change may be on the way…Ross has a pin!

1!

2!

3!---NO!!

Dominator at the LAST possible second manages to get his shoulder off the mat. Ross wipes the blood out of his face while rolling onto his back. Champion and Challenger are down again. There’s commotion in the crowd!

Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross nearly had thi---wait a minute---I can’t make out who is coming through…

Ace Anderson: Johnny Matthews is here!

Jerry Andrews: WHAT IN THE HELL?! Can he not wait his damn turn?!

Matthews is over the railing and into what’s left of the ring. Clad in black, he gets right in line with his arch nemesis. Clutched tight in his hand is the Underground Title. Matthews has some unsavory words for Dominator and one big piece of spit for the face plate. Matthews gets himself a wide swing like he had a Louisville slugger in hand...and HITS HOLDEN ROSS BY MISTAKE!! Dominator yanks Johnny by the collar of his leather jacket and without a second wasted, FLINGS him out towards the ramp. When Ross turns in Dominator’s direction, he is put THROUGH THE RING WITH ANACHRONISM!!

Jerry Andrews: OH MY GAWWWD!!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Dominator eventually emerges with A lifeless Holden Ross. He rolls him over for the cover.

1!

2!

3!

The bell is called for and mercifully this one is OVAH!

Sasha Greene: Here is the winner and STILL Underground Champion, Dominator!

There is no rest for the weary, Matthews is heading back to the ring. Dominator gears up to face him.

Jerry Andrews: I'm sorry folks, but that's all the time we have!!!

Ace Anderson: No! DON'T CUT THE FEED NOW! This is......

- CLICK -