Trauma 171 Results

[Rick Majors]

PCW Trauma: Tuesday April 14th, 2015 Billy Sadistic and Phinehas Grimm. The Hangtown Horrors. Casually making their way to the ring. Jerry Andrews: This can't be good. It’s no secret what’s in store for two valiant gladiators. Grimm takes a run at NCM who has NO idea what is coming. Grimm begins to unload into NCM as Eddie Lane looks on. Kelli, on the other hand, is the apple of Sadistic’s eye. She rolls back into the ring just as Sadistic gets there. Kelli looks trapped by the oncoming maelstrom but ... AHA! A bright, shining light pours forth from the back and out rushes Nathan Saniti! God let’s hope he gets there in time! Jerry Andrews: NATHAN SANITI IS HERE! The crowd is cheering, elated at the seemingly in time save! Hell, even NCM is fending Grimm off! Maybe this won’t end so badly. As Nathan reaches the ringside area ... a shock. Twofold. The first? The ringside bell ringing. That seems to stop both Nathan AND NCM in their tracks. Winner: NCM via disqualification @ 19:32 The crowd is stunned ... ... but not as stunned as what Nathan Saniti, Non Compos Mentis, and the whole wide world find standing dead center of the ring. Kelli Starr, arms wrapped around Billy Sadistic’s waist in a safe and almost comfortable embrace. A smile stretched across her makeup smeared countenance, as calm as can be. Unharmed in the SLIGHTEST, the look on Nathan’s face is a complete contrast ... shock and horror ... to Kelli Starr’s restful and nearly HAPPY grin. Jerry Andrews: Oh my God..... we’ve run out of time, ladies and gentlemen! We'll keep the cameras rolling! Kelli Starr and the Black Hand?! Ace Anderson: What is going on!? Where does that leave Nathan Saniti? Jerry Andrews: How even does that a thing?! Tune in to the next Trauma to find out!

Tuesday April 28th, 2015

Inside the arena the crowd is as hot as ever as PCW Trauma hits the airwaves. Without wasting much time, the cameras cut to the announce team standing at ringside.

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, PCW is in a state of chaos and confusion and no one quite knows what is going on!

Ace Anderson: Is Kelli Starr with the Black Hand!?

Jerry Andrews: I'm Jerry Andrews and I assure you that I don't know.

Ace Anderson: I'm Ace Anderson and I hope we get some answers here tonight!

Jerry Andrews: Well you know what we'll definitely get here tonight!? Action!

Ace Anderson: Woooooo!

Jerry Andrews: THREE huge Icemann Invitational Tournament matches, plus Gem faces off against Eira with PCW World Champion Sadistic as the referee!

Ace Anderson: And the night caps off with the Last Chance Battle Royal! I love battle royals!

Jerry Andrews: We've been hearing speculation all week! Who is going to be in this battle royal? We know Grimm will be in it, but it's open to ANYONE so we could have a few surprises here tonight!

Ace Anderson: Hell, I could enter it!

Jerry Andrews: WHAT!? ARE YOU!?

Ace Anderson: No.

"Dystopic" by Position Music weaves its way out of the PCW loudspeakers as Eira makes her casual way from the back, hair loosely flowing rather than bound in its match-ready tight braid. She continues onward to the ring, her crowd interaction conspicuously absent; a camera zooming in on her face catches what could either be deep circles or an extreme smokey eye makeup effect. Eira reaches ringside, a few words and a smile getting her a mic from a nearby sound tech. A quick nod of thanks and she rolls smoothly into the ring, making a circuit along the ropes while the crowd noise dies down.

Jerry Andrews: Well, THIS is unusual.

Ace Anderson: Not one of our more talkative talents, for sure.

Eira: Now... I don't usually do this. In fact, I don't think I've done this but once or twice. Coming down here and standing in the ring to yammer isn't how I prefer to do business, but the time has come..."

A malicious smirk crosses her face as she stares out into the crowd.

Eira: ...the time has come, the Prophet said, to talk of many things."

Mention of the Prophet getting her a cheap pop, she goes again to speak.

Eira: I think you know exactly what I want to talk about - Billy Sadistic."

Eira looks around, her silvery white hair rippling down her back as she nods. The crowd hoots and hollers, a few boos here and there coming from the fans holding signs such as "BLACK HAND ARMY" and "I FOR ONE WELCOME OUR BLACK HAND OVERLORDS" (it's a big sign, okay?).

Eira: Sadistic is PCW's World Champion, right? Let's be honest with each other, he's hardly the first insufferable asshole that's held the belt. But let's take a closer look. Sure, Whitey Ford was a douchebag, but at least he had the balls to back up his claim to the gold. Sadistic, on the other hand? Have you seen him defend that belt even ONCE?

Jerry Andrews: Well it's hardly HIS fault, he doesn't manage the booking.

Ace Anderson: Still though, she has a point.

Eira looks around, waiting for a moment before bringing the mic to her lips once more. "Neither have I. People might be quick to point out how fast I lost the World Championship when it was mine, but I also had to defend it at the Pay Per View immediately following the win! Sure, that's no excuse, and a loss is a loss - but where has Sadistic's turn been? Who is he that he gets to slide through on defending that belt for HOW many months now?!

Taking a moment to compose herself amidst the noise of the crowd, Eira rakes a hand through her hair to brush it back from her face.

Eira: Now, I'm not saying that Billy Sadistic is a slimy backwoods hillbilly who can't get the mud out of his ears to hear a direct challenge when he hears one, but -

Eira is cut off mid sentence as a burst of feedback drowns out the mic and the arena lights begin to flicker. Clearly unimpressed, she rolls her eyes as the lights go dark and “God's Gonna Cut You Down” by Johnny Cash starts up. A percentage of the crowd stomps and clamps along, but mostly they just boo.

*STOMP!* *CLAP!* *STOMP!* *CLAP!*

PCW's Phenom appears from the back with a heinous grin upon a heinous face. No, he's not an extra from House of 1,000 Corpses. Or Deliverance. He's PCW's World Champion and he's come in response to his arch-nemesis, Eira.

Jerry Andrews: Well, well, well. Ask and you shall receive.

Sadistic makes his way down the aisle and into the ring dragging the championship belt along like an old blanket. The lights resume as he enters the ring and approaches Eira with a grin on his face. His salt and pepper hair and beard are as wild as his genuine green eyes. Retrieving a microphone from a ring assistant, he raises it to his mouth as the music cuts out. The booing persists until Sadistic speaks.

Sadistic: ... You don't like me, do you?

The question is rhetorical. Quite rhetorical, but humorous to Sadistic as he lets out a chuckle.

Sadistic: Don't answer that. Because this goes far beyond likes and dislikes. You HATE me. That's okay, because I hate you, too. Gem is annoying, sure. I dislike her, sure. But not like I...HATE...you. And leave it to someone as gutless as you to pull a stunt like this. I get it, I get it. I really do. You can't beat me in the ring because you, my trollop, are a loser. You've lost to me. You've lost your lover and life partner. You've lost any friend you've ever had. And you've lost your *cough* child.

The crowd hisses at such a disgusting remark. Eira drops her microphone and strides purposefully towards the bastard, but Sadistic backs away and holds up his palm to halt her.

Sadistic: Wait. Wait! Because you did say one thing that's true. I haven't been much of a fighting champion. You can all send your thanks to Mr. Foley, for Billy Sadistic is no coward...and I'll prove it.

Eira stops, curious where Sadistic is going with this.

Sadistic: I'm going to issue an open challenge...RIGHT NOW...for the PCW World Heavyweight Championship!

He thrusts the big, gold belt with the black handprint on it high into the air. The crowd roars at this announcement. Looking to answer the challenge, Eira scrambles for her microphone to accept...but she's a split second too late...

...because "Xerxes" by Audiomachine blasts over the speakers and the PCW Faithful ERUPT!!!

Jerry Andrews: That's...that's Murdoc's music!!!

Both Eira's and Sadistic's heads snap to the entrance. Eira's face is a look of surprise and hope while Sadistic's is a look of surprise...and horror. Billy's mouth hangs open as he glances frantically from Eira to the stage as the bassline continues to thump throughout the arena like a heartbeat. Talk about making an entrance. Nearly thirty seconds have passed when the music slowly cuts out. Sadistic and Eira continue to watch the entrance when Billy suddenly breaks into hysterical laughter. It was a ruse...and the boos shower down from the heavens.

Ace Anderson: What a dirty bastard...

Eira composes herself as the last trace of hope melts from her face. She picks up her microphone.

Eira: Well, if the fun and games are finally over, I'd like to officially acce...

But before Eira can officially accept Billy's challenge, “Rock Star” by Nickelback twangs over the speakers.

Ace Anderson: What the...?

A mammoth specimen of a man struts out from the back and his physique is quite impressive. His name is Buck Brochamp and he looks very pleased with himself. The fans give him a mixed reaction as he jogs down the aisle. Eira is confused as to what in the hell is happening. Sadistic, on the other hand, takes in the monstrous newcomer with a worried look.

Jerry Andrews: Well, I guess anything can happen when you issue an open challenge and Billy Sadistic may have just bitten off more than he can chew!

Ace Anderson: He's still a bastard...

Jerry Andrews: But look at his opponent! He's huge

Ace Anderson: Where did he come from!?

Eira reluctantly exits the ring as the muscular rookie dives into the ring and immediately goes to work on the Phenom with some meaty right hands! Eddie Lane hustles out from the back to start this impromptu title defense.

Open Challenge World Championship Singles Match
Sadistic (World ©) vs Buck Brochamp
Referee: Eddie Lane

The series of punches has Sadistic rocked and Brochamp lets out a howl before hitting the ropes with a head of steam and charging the champion. Unfortunately for Brochamp, the sneaky Sadistic was playing possum and he catches the newb with a wide open boot to the mid-section that doubles the big guy over. And just like that, the Phenom plants him with a Sadistic DDT so forceful that it jettisons Brochamp back up to his feet where he staggers back into the ropes. Clearly out on his feet, Brochamp rebounds towards the center of the ring. Waving his arms around in a bit of twisted misdirection, Sadistic suddenly lunges forward with a wild scream and latches onto Brochamp's esophagus with his black-gloved hand!

Jerry Andrews: Oh! I'm told he calls that the Hangtown Death Grip, and he's latched on tighter than a pitbull!

Sadistic shakes his head violently as the life slowly leaves Brochamp. Buck drops to his knees before slowly folding onto his back. Billy continues to suffocate his opponent as Eddie Lane mercifully makes the three-count! Lane calls for the bell and moments later Sadistic decides to release the hold. Wild-eyed, he finds Eira on the outside and points a crooked finger in her direction. She replies with mock applause as Sadistic grabs his belt and heads to the back.

Winner: Sadistic via Pinfall @ 0:37

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, we're back and we're ready for what was originally SUPPOSED to be our first match of the night but, hey, you never know what's going to happen on Trauma!

Ace Anderson: That's why I love it!

Jerry Andrews: In this upcoming Icemann Invitational Tournament match the veteran technical savant Mr. Showtime, a favorite to win this year, will square off against rookie Seth Archer.

Ace Anderson: Don't sell Archer short, Jerry. He may not have the experience or size of Wryght, but the Brit is a technical and submission expert in his own right. I think we're in for a grappling clinic, my friend.

Right on cue, “Bulletproof” by 12 Stones rings throughout the Pure Class Arena. The PCW Faithful react favorably for the handsome youngster. The guitars kick in as pyros blast from the stage and out walks Seth with a smile on his face. Heading down the ramp, he breaks into a sprint and slides in under the bottom rope. Scaling the turnbuckles, he unleashes his signature Bow and Arrow Archer pose to the approval of the fans.

Jerry Andrews: I heard a little rumor that Seth may or may not be romantically involved with pop sensation Chris Winters. The paparazzi love this guy!

Ace Anderson: His opponent is no stranger to the lights and the cameras, either. Aside from being an accomplished actor, Showtime was winning his first World Championship when Seth was in grade school.

The very catchy “Gold on the Ceiling” by The Black Keys blares over the speakers as the arena darkens. Aside from a small smattering of cheers from Black Hand followers the majority of the people boo Mr. Wryght. A single spotlight illuminates the stage finding “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght standing with his arms folded across his chest. The spotlight follows Showtime all the way down the aisle where he wipes his feet on the ring apron before entering. A couple other spotlights join in as Wryght spins around with his arms shot out to each side. Heading to the corner he crosses his wrists and locks his fingers to make a “W” as a small pyro display bursts from the corners behind him. When the lighting resumes and the music fades out Michael looks back at Seth with wry smile on his face.

Jerry Andrews: There's a little history here between Seth Archer and the Black Hand. Seth took a pretty good beating at their hands not too long ago. He may have a little bit of revenge in mind.

Ace Anderson: Well, these tournament matches have 20 minute time limits, so he'll have exactly that much time to exact his revenge.

Icemann Invitational Tournament Singles Match
Seth Archer vs Michael Wryght
Referee: Charles Lim

After briefing both competitors and checking for foreign objects, Charles Lim calls for the bell. Wryght and Archer begin to circle one another slowly before they lock up. Showtime uses his nearly 70 pound weight advantage to muscle Seth back into the corner. Lim calls for a clean break and shockingly, Wryght backs away. Another circling process and another lock up sees Wryght power Seth into the corner once more. Again, Charles Lim call for the clean break and again, Showtime gives him one. Archer appears puzzled. For a third time, they lock up and once again and Michael takes him to the corner again. Lim calls for a break, but Showtime continues to hold Archer in the corner. Charles tries to pry himself between the two and Wryght uses the opportunity to slap the taste out of Seth's mouth! The fans don't like it and they let Mikey know about it.

Ace Anderson: What an open-handed slap by Showtime! Jesus!

Jerry Andrews: Already Showtime is playing mind games with the rookie. Trying to get in his head a little bit.

Showtime backs away chuckling, clearly pleased with himself. Archer tries to adjust his jaw as he goes straight for Wryght. The technicians lock horns again and Showtime immediately powers the smaller Seth Archer towards the corner...but Archer quickly executes a beautiful drop toe hold sending Showtime face-first into the middle turnbuckle. Wryght quickly spins around and Archer is there to catch him with a loud bitch slap! Immediately, Wryght complains to the official about Archer's insulting tactics.

Jerry Andrews: Seth gives Wryght a taste of his own medicine, and he didn't like it!

Wryght quickly grabs a headlock, but Archer works his way out the back transitioning Michael into a hammerlock. Wryght steps to the side, ducks under, and reverses the hammerlock, but Archer reacts quickly with a drop toe hold and floats over into a side headlock. An excellent display of chain wrestling ensues with each technician using crafty reversals and pinning predicaments to score quick nearfalls. A belly-to-back suplex attempt by Archer sees Wryght somersault to his feet behind Seth and the veteran immediately chop blocks Seth's knee!

Ace Anderson: Oh! Nasty chop block and if you know Showtime, you know he's going to weaken that knee.

Sure enough, Wryght locks in on the knee and goes to work. Stomps, kneedrops, leglocks. Showtime does anything and everything to keep Archer grounded. Seth tries to fend off Wryght, but the Jersey native is just too big and strong. Michael executes a spinning toe hold that Seth is able to counter into a small package for a two-count! Both men scramble to their feet and Archer connects first with a roundhouse kick! The move causes Seth to wince as he's moving gingerly on his bad knee. And now Archer starts in on Showtime's knee!

Jerry Andrews: Both of these guys are trying to soften the other up for their respective submission finishers. Great strategy. Great wrestling.

As Showtime tries to stand, Archer meets him with a dropkick to the kneecap! Now it's Seth's turn to go to work on Michael's limb. Seth transitions from the knee to the ankle with a tight ankle lock as he decides to just damage the entire leg in general. Wryght is able to make the ropes and Archer reluctantly breaks the hold. Archer and Wryght both get to their feet and both are hobbling around on bad wheels. Seth continues to push the pace of the match with a kick to the gut followed by a gutwrench suplex that gets him a two-count. Archer strikes with a stiff Shining Wizard that gets another nearfall. Seth lifts Wryght into the air for a vertical suplex and as they land the youngster shifts right into the Archer's Armbar out of nowhere!

Ace Anderson: Beautiful transition and he's got Showtime trapped right in the center of the ring!

Wryght struggles frantically to break free but Archer holds steady. Michael tries to find a position to escape, but he's got nowhere to go. Showtime looks like he's about to tap out as Seth continues to apply pressure. In a last ditch surge of power, Showtime turns into Seth stacking him up. Showtime gets to his feet, but Archer still has him locked in. In a fantastic show of power, Wryght torques Archer high into the air and splatters him all over the canvas with a nasty modified powerbomb! Michael with the cover and Seth barely gets the shoulder up!

Jerry Andrews: What an amazing move! A unique escape from Archer's Armbar.

Both men are completely gassed as they crawl around on hands and knees. They meet in the center of the ring and exchange blows from their knees. Archer is to his feet first and Showtime isn't far behind him as they slug it out. Showtime unleashes a flurry of chops – chops are served! - before backing Archer to the ropes. Wryght with an Irish whip and Archer bounces off the ropes before ducking a clothesline. Gaining momentum, Seth rebounds and leapfrogs a backdrop attempt. Showtime turns and charges as Seth ricochets off the ropes again and the two meet with each throwing a nasty lariat! Both men connect and the result is something akin to a head-on car crash! Seth and Michael are folded into nasty positions with each man “covering” the other. Seeing the unintentional pin attempts, Charles Lim makes the count.

1...2...DING DING DING!!!

Ace Anderson: What the hell?

Jerry Andrews: What's going on here?

Puzzled, Lim looks to the timekeeper. Ah! The twenty minute time limit has come and gone! The fans begin booing at the shady ending as the match is declared a time limit draw.

Winner: Time Limit Draw @ 20:00

Frank Foley: Now hold on just a minute.

Mr. Foley emerges from the back with a microphone in hand.

Frank Foley: I didn't like the finish to that match anymore than you did. So here's what's gonna happen: Next week we're gonna have a rematch! Seth Archer vs. Michael Wryght Part Two!

The fans erupt at the thought of another showdown between the technicians.

Frank Foley: And the winner advances in the tournament!

With that, Foley disappears backstage. Meanwhile, the technical team manages to catch “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght walking back towards the Black Hand’s private dressing room directly after his match. The sweat from his brow has yet to cease, and he’s left his shimmering black robe open to help cool down. He turns the corner only to be met by the sound of beads shaking. It’s an ominous sound, constant, as it grows louder the closer it gets. One of his eyebrow jets upward as Justin “Stormm” Michaels turns the corner. Justin is just as ring ready as Showtime is. His orange and white wrestling tights actually match Wryght’s, though it is missing the dominant color of green that he sports. In Stormm’s right hand he grips the Pure Class Wrestling North American Championship Belt and around his neck hangs two rattles connected with an orange ribbon, one pink and one blue, both with tiny black handprints.

“This is a round about way to the ring from your dressing room,” comments Showtime.

“I've been hoping for a chance encounter, you might say.” Stormm replies with a sneer. "Some people are more difficult to come across than others."

Stormm lifts his title belt from his side and drapes it over his right shoulder. The championship's center medallion disrupted the ribbon in which the baby rattles are hanging from around the Force of Nature's neck, and the haunting sound repeated itself. The noise seems to irritate Justin despite him wearing the Black Hand's gift to his children like a medal. He's ready to be rid of them.

"But I guess I don't need to tell you that, since you've done a bang up job of avoiding me since Mass Destruction, do I?"

Showtime scoff at the comment before saying, “Funny I don’t see it that way, considering we did face off right after the pay-per-view, and I even paid you a visit at your own home. I see that your little ones received their gifts, just too bad you weren’t there to thank me in person.”

“You leave them out of this you sick son of…” Justin calms himself, knowing full well this is the kind of reaction that Showtime is after.

Showtime gasps in horror at the comment, using his acting skills to its fullest. “Sick son of a? I am hurt and offended, Justin. Mostly hurt. I mean, we only wished to congratulate you in this joyous time. What kind of sick freak do you think I am?”

There was only one way for Justin to react to Showtime’s antics, and that was with a smile and a shake of his head. “There are so many ways I could answer that question, but it would only further drag me away from why I tracked you down.” Stormm grabbed the orange ribbon, and lifted the rattles from around his neck, the beads inside singing their song the whole way. “You can twist your actions every which way, but the best way for you and the Black Hand to congratulate me and my family would be to leave us alone!”

“Then how would you know we care?” jests Showtime, trying to get Stormm to feed into his nonsense. “I don’t know what you think our intentions are with your family, but no harm has come to them, nor will it. We aren’t in the business of hurting children, no matter what you think of us. It was truly a gesture in welcoming the twins into the world. When it comes to the Black Hand’s intentions, don’t worry, they are entirely focused on you.”

Gripping the ribbon tightly, Stormm’s knuckles begin to turn white. He does his best to bite his tongue, knowing full well what Showtime is trying to accomplish. “The Black Hand doesn’t strike me as an organization that can be bothered with such things. You also mistake me for someone who gives a shit what you all think.” With force, Stormm shoves the rattles onto Wryght, holding them against his chest. “You can keep your business, your intentions, your focus, and take them elsewhere!”

“Now this is a real insult. I mean, I can handle you speaking poorly about my mother, who is a beautiful human being, but returning a thoughtful gift with such disrespect is shameful,” Showtime growls, not giving up if he is serious or not before spitting towards Stormm’s feet in disgust.

The Force of Nature doesn’t break eye contact with Mr. Showtime at all, despite his discourteous act. “I’m only showing you the same amount of respect you showed me by coming into my home uninvited, something I’ll be damned if I let happen again!”

“You got me all wrong, but don’t fool yourself Stormmy, the Black Hand is the type of organization that bothers itself with all things,” Showtime rebuff, as Michaels is noticeably annoyed by the use of the name ‘Stormmy’. “We are on a mission here, you have to be able to see that. We may not have much in the field of finesse, and though no one realizes it but we are the good guys here. Without chaos there can be no order, and we will eventually bring that order back to PCW and the world. Your being marked is just another step towards the ultimate goal. Believe it or not, it’s nothing personal.”

Justin shakes his head with a subtle grin at the insanity spewing from Mr. Showtime’s mouth, and then released his grip on the ribbon holding the rattles. Michael extends his hands just in time for the noisemakers to fall into them. “What you need to understand, Mikey, is that I don’t care. We don’t care. Nobody cares! It’s all the doings of three grown men, brainwashed into thinking the world needs them, when what the world really needs is to be rid of them!”

“No one cares?” scoffs Showtime, actually being serious for once. “Since we’ve come together all PCW has done is talk about us. Oh how the once mighty bleat about us week after week. They proclaim our horrors, but turn a blind eye to the fact that if they weren’t the scum of the Earth, we’d have no business here. PCW has forced our hand. A place that once had a good balance between heroes and villains had become over run with the wretched. The wicked were allowed to spill their carnage, infecting the other, to think that this was an acceptable way to act. We were all tainted leaving the last of the good men to rot by the wayside. I can’t say that I was innocent either, maybe one of the worst, but I at least was given another chance, no matter how it cost me. PCW will become our finest conquest, laying the path to a better home for all of us.”

Growing tired of Mr. Showtime’s mindless ramblings, Justin moves in closer and lowers his voice. “You mistake our concern for PCW as caring for your mischievous behavior. The Black Hand has no business trying to force their influences on any of us back here or out there. Truthfully, I was going to keep my nose out of your affairs, to avoid the mistakes I made going after you and Marshall’s Law two years ago, but then you got my family involved.” Using the hand he held the rattles with moment earlier, Stormm grabbed ahold of Mr. Showtime’s robe and pulled him in even closer, whispering into his ear. “Your conquest will bring you nothing. The Black Hand can rage war on PCW, and we will not fall. You three can run around, spitting your plagues, but your hunger for ‘order’ will only be met with starvation. I’ll make damn sure of that.”

Showtime looks down at Stormm’s hand gripping his robe. When he looks back up, it’s with that cocky half smile of his and he speaks softly, almost kindly, at Michaels, “You’re only fooling yourself, Justin. We have every right to take action, and now I see you are obviously part of the problem. What authority do you have to judge anyone? Who gave you the scales to balance justice? You are just as naive as the rest of the sheep in PCW. You’re predictable Stormm, I always knew that’d you’d fall into the same mistakes you did last time, but last time was personal. You know why you hate me so much, Justin? It’s because we’re too damn similar. The difference is that I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not, and it makes you sick. Nex Addo.”

Showtime breaks Stormm’s grip with a heavy shoulder, knocking Michaels away. Showtime storms off towards his locker-room without a second glance. Stormm is left steaming, from the confrontation, but happy he was able to at least keep Showtime from making him completely lose it.

Content with how their confrontation played out, finally, he takes a few steps towards the area when he notices the shaking of the rattles. Just when Justin thought he got rid of them, Showtime somehow hooked them to the NA Title belt. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Stormm adds his own conclusion to the conversation, in a tone low enough that only he can hear. “You’re only fooling yourself.”

The arena goes dark and the rhythm of "The Pride" and whilst in darkness, Kristoff comes and stands on stage with his head down, allowing his hair to cover his face and a small fog begins to drift in underneath him. As the pace quickens and the drums finally come into play, Kristoff slowly lifts his head and arms as flashing strobe lights begin to light up the stage. With the vocals starting, Kristoff allows his arms to drop before walking slowly to the ring.

"JOHNNY CASH AND PBR! JACK DANIELS! NASCAR!"

"Introducing...from Round Rock, Texas....weighing in at 190 pounds..."

Kristoff walks past the crowd's outstretched hands by staying in the middle of the ramp whilst walking. He will look around the crowd with disdain before getting to the ring.

"I AM....WHAT YOU FEAR MOST....I AM....WHAT YOU NEED"

"...Kristoff Michaelson!!"

Kristoff steps onto the ring apron and steps into the ring before looking around at the crowd once again before stepping onto the middle rope and leaning against the top rope to stare at the crowd. Finally smirking and then stepping away from the ropes.

The arena lights dim down to a gentle glow and the sound of pouring rain fills the arena to the brim as an orange fog begins to cover the entrance way. Hardly containing themselves already, the fans start to rise to their feet as a sudden bright flash of orange lights flood the crowd before a deafening crash of thunder rattles the foundation and leaves the arena in darkness. "Immortal" by Eve to Adam instigates a small riot amongst those in attendance as orange flashes, like lightning, illuminate the way for the Force of Nature, and Justin Michaels appears through the curtain and onto the stage with the North American title in tow.

"I AM IMMORTAL, I'LL NEVER FADE AWAY!"

"And his opponent..."

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

"I'M A LEGACY THAT LIVES BEYOND, FAR BEYOND THE GRAVE!"

"... from Kansas City, Kansas; weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds..."

Having made it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring and gives a salute towards Ace and Jerry before hopping up onto the apron, and motions to the crowd once more.

"I AM IMMORTAL, I'LL NEVER REST IN PEACE!"

"... he is the PCW North American Champion, the Force of Nature... JUSTIN "STORMM" MICHAELS!"

"AND YOU'RE NEVER GONNA BE, NEVER GONNA BE, NEVER BE, NEVER GONNA BE, NEVER GONNA BE, NEVER BE ME!"

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

Icemann Invitational Tournament Singles Match
Kristoff Michaelson vs Justin "Stormm" Michaels (North American ©)
Referee: Nigel Gale

Suddenly, “Gold on the Ceiling” by The Black Keys blares over the speakers and no one really knows what's going on. Slowly, "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght makes his way through the entrance and down to the ring.

Jerry Andrews: What is he doing here!? His match is over!

Ace Anderson: Stormm doesn't look happy about this.....

Showtime walks up the steps and he's about to step through the ropes when he smiles and shakes his head. He then walks around the ring to the announce table and picks up an extra headset.

Jerry Andrews: Oh.... so you're joining us?

Wryght puts on the headset and sits down beside Andrews and Anderson.

Michael Wryght: Test, test... is this on?

Jerry Andrews: Oh it's on alright. What are you even doing here?

Showtime just laughs. Meanwhile, the bell rings and Stormm takes the advantage right away with a headlock, slamming Kristoff to the mat with a swift DDT, the crowd getting pumped with action from the start. Kristoff gets to his feet quickly, pushing his way forward with a flurry of punches to the chest and stomach of the veteran, pushing him towards the ropes until Stormm shoves him away, bouncing off the ropes to deliver a clothesline to Michaelson.

Jerry Andrews: Nice clothesline by Stormm!

Michael Wryght: Yawn.

Both men are pumped and ready to go at it. They lock up in the centre of the ring, with them both jockeying for position, Stormm breaking the stalemate with a knee to the gut, doubling Kristoff over and then grabbing him for a German Suplex, his body hitting the mat hard as Stormm poses for the crowd. Kristoff eventually gets up and wipes his face before running at Stormm who dodges his spear attempt, getting Kristoff angry as he then rebounds off the ropes to hit a clothesline of his own, rushing the downed Michaels to lock in a sleeper hold, his arm wrapped round the neck of the North American champion.

Jerry Andrews: Big sleeper hold here!

Ace Anderson: This could be it!

Michael Wryght: We can only hope.

Michaels shrugs his shoulders, trying to get Kristoff off of him, eventually getting to the ropes forcing the referee to get the hold broken. Both men are forced apart as they get to their feet, Michaels seemingly favouring his left shoulder. He seemed pissed as he rushes at Kristoff with a flurry of punches with his right hand and another knee to the gut, delivering another DDT to the mat but not with as much power as usual, his arm clearly bothering him. Kristoff trips Michaels on the floor, attempting to lock in an ankle lock.

Michael Wryght: Ha ha ha.

Michaels screams out as his ankle is twisted in Kristoff’s grip, trying desperately to crawl to the ropes but finding it hard to use his sore arm to crawl. Kristoff twists harder, making Stormm call out in agony but with a lot of effort, he manages to crawl just enough to get his fingers around the bottom rope, the referee having to break the hold once more.

Jerry Andrews: And the hold is broken, but the damage may have been done already!

The crowd are loud and proud as they watch this back and forth between two men who seem to be meeting each other in the middle. Kristoff tries to get close to Michaels once more but the referee holds him back as Stomm got to his feet, ensuring a fair fight. Both men being angry, the match turns swiftly into a fight in the centre of the ring with both men punching, kicking and kneeing each other, trying to punish each other.

Michael Wryght: I hope they never stop hitting each other.

Eventually, it’s Stormm that gets the upper hand, getting Kristoff in position to hit a Belly to Back Suplex, then lifting him up to deliver another, punishing him with hard suplexes to the canvas. He smiled out to the audience, pumping them up as he lifts Michaelson for one more suplex, this one however, was the Force of Nature, slamming him down hard. Stormm poses for the cheering crowd before turning to go back to the downed Michaelson, dropping and pinning him with a hooked leg when suddenly, the crowd roars as "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght stands up and takes off his headset.

Jerry Andrews: What are you doing!? Sit down!

The referee turns to see what the commotion is as Wryght slowly walks out from behind the announce table. Storm lets go of Kristoff and heads over to tap the shoulder of the referee, telling him. “I had him, ignore him and count the pin!” Showtime smiles. Stormm is now leaning over the ropes, threatening Wryght. The referee is standing by in case the fireworks start to fly between these two men. Meanwhile, Kristoff Michaelson is back on on his feet and he's wondering exactly what is going on. Everyone looks confused as Showtime seemingly gives up and starts walking away from the ring. But then Wryght smiles, tapping his watch and nodding to the referee who checks with the timekeeper's table just as the bell suddenly rings.

Jerry Andrews: Not again!

Ace Anderson: Another draw!?

Jerry Andrews: You have to figure Showtime caused this one with his antics.

he ring announcer gets into the ring with a microphone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen… the result of the match is a draw due to a time limit ending. No competitor was able to secure a victory within the 20 minute time period. As previously announced by PCW President Frank Foley, a draw results in a rematch being scheduled for the next episode of Trauma!”

Winner: Time Limit Draw @ 20:00

The crowd is upset at yet another non-finish. Stormm looks down at Showtime, who is mockingly applauding his efforts with a golf clap. Stormm is visibly angry as the show heads backstage and the camera pans in on Nathan Saniti gently rapping on Frank Foley's door with his cane. A loud pop from the crowd encourages him as he sets himself like a gentleman awaiting an answer. From within the office, he gets an invitation.

Frank Foley: Come in.

Nathan curtly opens the door, stepping in with confidence. The camera follows him to witness. Foley looks up from a small mountain of paperwork to see his guest and smiles.

Frank Foley: Ah! Mr. Saniti! What may I do for you?

Foley stands up, extending his hand, which Nathan graciously accepts. Foley gestures for Nathan to have a seat. Crossing his legs at the knee, he awaits his host to be seated before the conversation starts.

Nathan Saniti: I have a simple request of you, Mr. Foley.

Frank Foley: What would that be?

Nathan Saniti: I wish to face Mr. William Dillinger one-on-one.

Frank Foley: William Di... Oh, You mean Sadistic?

Nathan Saniti: Indeed.

Foley sits and ponders this for a second, and then begins to shake his head.

Frank Foley: I hate to say this, but even if you ignore the fact that he's already competed tonight, you'll have to wait in line. He IS our World Champion.

Saniti gets a somber look on his face, but seems to comprehend the statement.

Nathan Saniti: I'm afraid you misunderstand me, Mr. Foley. It is not his title I desire. If Fate wishes it, I will have earned that right. I simply ask that he and I have a chance to square off for the honor of Miss Starr. I simply cannot sit idly by whilst he sullies her name and her soul.

Frank Foley: No offense Nathan, but it didn't look to me like her actions weren't her own.

Saniti's eyes darken with rage, but he turns it inwards to keep his poise. Slowly he rises, both hands on his cane and severity in his eyes. Foley takes an obviously guarded position as a knee-jerk reaction. Nathan speaks slowly and deliberately.

Nathan Saniti: I'm not convinced. Either way, I refuse to do absolutely nothing as the Black Hand darkens one of the brightest Starrs this federation has had the privilege of witnessing.

Frank Foley: Nathan, have you considered that maybe it isn't Kelli that is involved, but perhaps her alter ego?

Nathan Saniti: I did, in fact, consider that. I have seen both sides of Miss Starr. I remain unconvinced that her more aggressive counterpart is in control.

Frank Foley: Well, I can't have you running amok and injuring our World Champion any more than I could allow the Hand to do damage to you. You understand, right?

Nathan Saniti: Sir, I SHALL have my day with Mr. Dillinger, one way or another. Your blessing is not needed. The Black Hand have gotten out of control, and I shall become more than a mere thorn in their side.

Now Foley stands, leaning on his desk with authority.

Frank Foley: If I have to, I will put out an order to prevent you from coming within 50 feet of Sadistic. I know you want revenge, Nathan. Right now, the best way for you to get it is to win the Icemann Invitational.

Saniti huffs his disapproval, beginning to turn towards the door.

Nathan Saniti: An unfortunate decision, Mr. Foley. I DO hope you don't end up regretting it.

Frank Foley: Are you threatening me?

Nathan Saniti: Not at all. I'm simply forewarning you of the maelstrom to come. There is a brush fire burning in your organization called the Black Hand. Sometimes, to fight a brush fire, one must burn down a forest. Nero shall once again ready his fiddle, my good man. Please make sure you are fireproof.

Saniti strolls out of the office, rage in his heart, and a renewed steam in his step.

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

Ace Anderson: Uh oh here we go again!

Jerry Andrews: After what she did last week how the hell was she allowed into the building??

Ace Anderson: Word going around is that PCAS won't go anywhere near her, especially after last week. Dave Brant is still in the ICU and Domino D'Angelo only got out yesterday!

Jerry Andrews: So what is Frank Foley going to do?

Ace Anderson: I don't know but something has to be done.

Alexa Black steps through the curtain her face lit up with a wicked smile. She walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back their hatred of this evil woman.

She mocks the crowd and badmouth fans on the way using various profanity which has to be bleeped out. In her hand is her weapon of choice the bloody pipe that has so far destroyed many and if Alexa has her way many more will follow.

Ace Anderson: It's that damn pipe again...

Jerry Andrews: And where it goes pain and suffering follow.

As she continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing. She reaches the ring and Alexa climbs up on the ring apron. She enters the ring and the crowd starts throwing rubbish at her. Food and cups of beer fly in from all directions but she simply doesn't care.

The music fades out as Alexa stays in the ring with a microphone.

Alexa Black: Hello PCW!

As you can see despite my actions last week it seems that our beloved PCW President Mr Frank Foley chose to ignore my warning and once again left me out of this weeks Trauma. Apparently, I'm being held out of tonight's battle royal due to my actions last week, but Foley didn't even tell me that himself. His assistant sent me a text. Foley is so stubborn and selfish. I can see why now Whitey Ford hated this guy.


The crowd cheers at the mention of the former PCW World Champion.

Alexa Black: I try to be a good employee I do but it seems no matter what I do for him it's never good enough. For over a year now I've been in that ring busting my ass and for what? Not a God damn thing!

Ace Anderson: She tries to be a good employee!?

Jerry Andrews: Maybe the Alexa we're seeing IS Alexa on her best behavior.

Ace Anderson: That's scary.

Alexa Black: I'm stating that right here right now I'm not going to stand for it any more so it seems another sacrifice needs to be made in the name of progress.

Maybe you'll listen when I speak Frank cos until you do this will keep happening and the bodies will keep piling up on your conscience.

She leaves the ring and grabs a table and sets it up in the ring. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bottle of lighter fluid. Gleefully she spurts the fluid all over the table and then pulling a match from her boot and sets it ablaze and as she does her eyes light up like a kid in a candy store.

Ace Anderson: She's out of control where does it end? What is she doing!?

Jerry Andrews: There is only one man who can stop this and that's Frank Foley.

Suddenly Alexa leave the ring and she grabs a ring attendant from ringside and rolls him in the ring!

Ace Anderson: Oh come on! That's not a wrestler!

Alexa Black kicks the attendant in the gut and then plants him with a huge powerbomb through the table, sending bits of flaming table everywhere! The victim remains motionless in the wreckage.

Alexa Black stares directly into the camera and screeches

THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS FRANK!
WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?
THE NEXT MOVE IS YOURS...

She drops the mic and walks calmly up the ramp and backstage as we see medical personnel attending to the ringside technician as we go to commercial.

The crowd in attendance wait patiently and suddenly the lights in the PCW Arena slowly dim to complete darkness, save for the bits of light coming from several entrances and the flashes of cameras going off. A video package begins to play on the big screen above the entrance as Prelude (The Family Trip) by Marilyn Manson begins playing through the sound system in the arena. The video package on the big screen is a parody of the scene from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory with Joka taking the place of Willy Wonka at the bow of the boat. The minute long song and video play out with Joka reenacting the memorable scene. At the end Joka looks down and Joka walks out onto the stage dressed in a tattered white old timey evening gown. He brings a mic up to his mouth and looks up into the camera.

"Stop the boat!"

The crowd begins booing him viciously as Monster walks out behind him. Monster raises both of his huge arms into the air and red pyrotechnics explode on the stage, with Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag opening in unison with the explosion. Red lights fill the arena and Joka begins headbanging, whipping his long green and black dreadlocks in the air as the crowd boo louder, with a few cheers sprinkled in. At the beginning of the song when the words "All the goose step girlies with the cursive faces. We know it's all Braille beneath their skirts" are sung, Joka lifts up his ankle length white dress over his head and then turns around and playfully bends down, lightly flipping the dress up as Monster crosses his arms and looks out into the hate filled crowd.

”Introducing first, from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma....”

Joka begins skipping down the ramp to the ring as Monster slowly walks behind him. Joka reaches the the ring and with one fluid movement, rips the dress off and throws it into the crowd as he windmills his dreads; fans in the front row all jumping up to catch the dress as Joka stops headbanging and seamlessly jumps straight up to the ring apron outside of the ropes. Joka walks over to the corner post and crawls up it like a spider, jerking erratically and violently, looking out into the crowd with a maniacal look on his face. Joka jumps down off the corner turnbuckle as the huge seven foot Monster steps over the top rope and Joka spins into the middle of the ring as Monster meets him. Joka flips off the crowd as Monster raises his huge arms in the air and red pyrotechnics explode from the turnbuckles.

”... THA JOKA!”

Jerry Andrews: I have a feeling that this match going to be... well.... strange.

Ace Anderson: You think?

"Circus Envy" by R.E.M. starts as Saniti strolls out from the back. He pays no attention whatsoever to the audience. Standing atop the ramp, cane planted firmly in front of him, purple smoke envelopes Saniti completely. Just as the smoke enshrines him, a line of pyro blasts a path straight down to the bottom of the ramp.

”And his opponent, he is the PCW International Champion....”

Once the smoke clears from the final boom, Saniti has appeared! He then casually strolls up to the steps and into the ring, his unsettling and unhinged smile decorating his face.

”... NATHAN SANITI!”

Jerry Andrews: These have not been a good couple of weeks of Nathan Saniti.

Ace Anderson: To say Kelli Starr’s return didn’t turn out exactly the way he wanted it to would be a serious understatement.

Icemann Invitational Tournament Singles Match
Tha Joka vs Nathan Saniti (International ©)
Referee: Ty Little

As soon as the match begins, Joka throws a closed fist towards Nathan's face. Nathan just barely ducks the punch, and comes back for one of his own. In a blink of an eye, Joka leaps up and he takes Saniti down with an armbar! Joka tightens his grip, but Nathan latches onto his hands, preventing the hold from going any further. Joka tries to break the lock with shots to the ribs, but Saniti will not give in.

Jerry Andrews: These two going at it right from the opening bell!

Ace Anderson: Both men seem to be going 100% here tonight and they look determined to drive right through one another!

Nathan rolls up his locked grip from the laying down position, coming to a stand with his arm still hooked. Saniti breaks free and he turns and clotheslines Joka down to the mat. He waits for him to stand and then leaps up with a flying leg lariat. Both men quickly get to their feet, and clash in the center of the ring. Joka quickly rolls behind Nathan, waits for him to turn around and then drops Saniti with a big boot. Joka then pulls Saniti up and he drives him down with an exploder suplex. He goes for a cover....

Jerry Andrews: And a two count!

Joka pulls Saniti up, but Saniti starts unloading on him with strikes. Joka is all too happy to return the favor and the two men begin unloading on one another in the ring. A thudding left Muay Thai kick is thrown into Nathan's ribs, sending a loud smack through out the audience. Nathan cringes, doesn’t back down. Joka obliges and gives him another stiff kick to the ribs, causing him to crouch but beg on for even more. This time Joka swings a roundhouse Saniti's way, and he catches it! Before Joka can counteract, Nathan swings Joka to the ground with a dragon screw leg whip!

Jerry Andrews: Nice move!

Saniti now climbs the ropes. He then leaps off, but Joka catches his flying clothesline and turns it into a power slam with a pin!

One..
Two..

Ace Anderson: Kick out!

Once he stands, Joka throws Saniti towards the ropes. Tha Joka then bounces off the opposite ropes and and he comes barrelling back towards Nathan. Before Joka can connect with a high knee, Saniti dodges the move. He races to the other side, repels off, and slides under the legs of the disorientated Joka. Saniti then leaps up and he drops Joka with a drop kick to the back of the head!

Jerry Andrews: Boom!

Ace Anderson: What a match! These two are out crazy-ing one another!

Joka slowly pushes up to his feet. Saniti swings at him and Joka ducks it. Joka then starts delivering boot after boot to the chest of Nathan Saniti, driving him down with thudding boots to the chest!!!

Jerry Andrews: Oh man!

Joka pulls Saniti up, but Nathan shoves him away, shoves him into the corner. He then charges at him as he steps out of the corner, hitting him with a hurricanrana! Saniti now mounts Joka and he unloads on him with forearms to the face!

Jerry Andrews: And now these guys are just beating the hell out of one another!

Saniti stands up and waits for tha Joka to do the same. When he does, he kicks him in the chest and then hits a big double underhook suplex! Saniti now starts to bunny hop in a semi circle around the fallen Joka before executing a standing moonsault splash.

Jerry Andrews: March Hare Hop! The cover! This could be it!

Ace Anderson: Kickout at two!

Jerry Andrews: And what’s Saniti doing now!?

Perhaps feeling that the moonsault needed more height, Saniti climbs to the top turnbuckle. He then leaps off of the top rope with a moonsault, but no one is home! Joka takes advantage of the wounded Saniti and he pulls him up!

Jerry Andrews: Sadist Slam!

Ace Anderson: And the cover!

One..
Two..
Three!

Jerry Andrews: Tha Joka advances!

Winner: Tha Joka by pinfall @ 14:32

The lights are dark in the area of the stadium the cameras emerge into after the commercial break. Through the gloom only the clunking and clattering plumbing in the bowls of the PCW Arena can be seen, and a shuffling of feet can be heard. Moments later, emerging from the shadows is… Kelli Starr?

As she meanders carefree out of the dark, still sporting her trademark technicolour garb and candy-sweet appearance, she gives a brief glance backwards as if checking her path. It’s not the path behind her that she should be worried about - another shadow looms into view from in front of her. Dollface, halts mid-skip and looks up at the man who takes a step into view.

Non Compos Mentis stares down at Starr, a solemn expression on his face. “Kelli, we need to talk.”

A pretty little scowl replacing the shocked look on her face, Dollface shows her belligerent side and pushes past NCM, leaving him dumbstruck and shocked for a moment. The normally uber-cheerful Starr is about to walk away when Mentis shakes off his astonishment and calls out.

“Hey! You think you can just avoid me? Sooner or later you’ll have to face me and if you win tonight it won’t be just a talk next time.”

Stopping once more and cutting a hesitant and frustrated figure, Starr takes a second and swivels like a ballerina to face her imposing inquisitor. Still managing a smile on her face, if not a very pleased one, the psychedelic beauty hits back.

“Pro tip? Looming out of the shadows like some kind of serial rapist isn’t the way to start a conversation. I ALREADY faced you, and I LOST. You won, NCM, you did great, you beat me, YOU ARE KING OF THE WRESTLERMANS. Is that what you want from me?”

NCM‘s finger stabs towards Kelli‘s chest, stopping inches away from an actual touch. “I want to know what the HELL you were doing two weeks ago! We came back a month before that to beat the crap out of The Black Hand and force them out of PCW and now… what? One month later and you’re jumping in bed with those sons of bitches? What did Sadistic do to you?”

“Okay, for one, you and I came back AT THE SAME TIME, not TOGETHER. Second, who are YOU to imply I'm jumping into bed with anyone? Is it because I'm a chick, or are you always so dirty minded?” Kelli gives him a long glance up and down, his well worn clothing clean and neat; a far cry from his days as the Hobo King. “At least the REST of you isn't as dirty as it used to be. I'll tell you what I've been telling everyone else. Everyone, and I mean pretty much EVERYONE, has come up against the Black Hand - and LOST. It hasn’t seemed to occur to anyone that maybe being FRIENDS with them might help us all out a lot more than what already hasn’t worked!”

NCM leans in closer, close enough to bring out a slight look of worry in Kelli’s face, and stares hard into her eyes. Their faces so close Kelli can feel the warmth of his breath on her face as he speaks with a low, urgent intensity.

“I don’t know if he’s got leverage on you, or if he brainwashed you into believing his bullshit, but Sadistic isn’t as good as he thinks he is. You might have everyone else fooled, but I know doubt when I see it.”

Kelli’s eyes widen, looking almost tearful - only for her to take an involuntary step back, her eyes snapping to a point just behind NCM’s shoulder.

“Well well well. Poaching already, King Nothing?”

Tension in the musty corridor goes ratcheting up several notches as none other than Sadistic himself closes in on the scene, his antifreeze green eyes holding tight on Dollface with a possessive, almost jealous stare as he slips past NCM to stand by her side.

For his part, NCM‘s expression hardens as he squares his shoulders back. “I know what you’re up to, Dillinger.”

“Do you now?” Sadistic’s gaze shifts from Kelli to NCM and back again. “So she told you about the ice cream? She DOES love her sweets, you know.” He slides an arm around Kelli’s waist, pulling her tight against his side. “Don’t you, dear?” Kelli nods against his chest, avoiding NCM’s searching gaze. “Why don’t you tell him why you’re with the Black Hand, sugar cookie?”

Kelli keeps her eyes on Sadistic, the very picture of earnestness. “I TRIED telling him but he just won’t LISTEN!” Her voice cracks on the last word, stress clear in every syllable. She places a delicate hand to her ivory throat, massaging gently. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve been SO upset about all this. Here I am trying to be friends with everyone but there’s all this turf warfare going on and everyone is expecting me to take sides!”

“Ohhh, that’s a shame. Have no worries there, my little Dollface, I want you to play with EVERYONE.” Kelli rests her head against his side, arms loosely wrapped around his middle as Sadistic smiles over her head at NCM’s helpless frustration.

“This isn’t over, Sadistic. I’m going to find out what’s going on, and then I’m coming for you.”

Sadistic sighs, almost as though disappointed with the decorated former Champion.

“And here we’d thought you’d noticed - I believe my dear brother has plans for you, NCM. As for myself, I have better things to occupy my time with these days - wouldn’t you agree?” A cracked, snaggle toothed grin shows off his jagged maw as he leers down at Kelli, his arm locked firmly around her waist. Kelli’s eyes remain fixed on NCM, as if willing him to leave. Several long, heavy seconds later, NCM turns on his heel and vanishes into the darkness, leaving Kelli standing alone with Sadistic.

“Now for you, sweetling, I think I need to remind you of our mission statement...” Sadistic’s virulent gaze bores into Kelli’s wide eyes as the camera fades on the scene.

Kanye West‘s “ALL OF THE LIGHTS!” hits the speakers as the lights drop out inside the arena. As the horns of the song start to sound, LIGHT jogs out onto the stage and starts bouncing up and down warming up for the match. He heads down the ramp, light on his toes and clapping his hands with the fans. In one easy hop, he moves from the floor and up to the ring apron, lit by a single spotlight the entire time. He jumps over the top rope and runs across the ring, jumping up to the middle rope and pointing to that side of the arena as the lights in that half of the building come up. LIGHT jumps off the middle buckle, twisting in mid air and slamming his fist to the mat as the lights in the rest of the building come up. He stays on one knee, and looks up directly into the camera outside with a smile before standing up and waiting for the bell.

Jerry Andrews: Looks like he’s recovering well from that bear trap attack. I guess you could say he’s even... LIGHT on his feet?

Jerry stares straight into the camera and slides on a pair of sunglasses as Ace looks on in unimpressed disgust.

Ace Anderson: That was uncalled for.

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 the match to begin.

King of the Underground Championship Match
LIGHT (Underground ♚) vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
Referee: Eddie Lane

Eddie Lane steps forward to issue his instructions, LIGHT and Crazy Boy offering each other a quick handshake before Lane calls for the bell. They circle for a few seconds before clashing in the center of the ring, LIGHT looks to be attempting a test of strength - a test of strength cut short as LIGHT’s weak leg gives way. Crazy Boy is quick to press the sudden advantage, going in for an attack just as LIGHT steps in and stomps on his right foot, taking him over with a wheel throw and a quick pin attempt!

... - no!

Crazy Boy gets a shoulder up just before the one count. The two men get to their feet and Tyrone is put down with another wheel throw and hard soccer kick to his back. Crazy Boy kips up to his feet and whirls to face his opponent, LIGHT quick on his feet despite the damaged leg. LIGHT leads, quickly trying to pull Crazy Boy into a clinch, but pushes her to the ground and performs a guitar solo, much to the chagrin of the crowd – but he seems to be growing on them, oddly enough. LIGHT gets to his feet, wasting no time and going for Crazy Boy again, but he’s ready. Tyrone hits a quick hip toss, then hits a leg drop across LIGHT’s sternum as he lays prone on the mat. Before Crazy Boy can go for a pin, he’s taken up and over in headlock for a near one count! Getting to their feet again, LIGHT leaps into the air with an impressive show of athleticism to catch Crazy Boy with a leg scissor, bringing them both down to the mat with a thudding crash.

Jerry Andrews: That looked rough!

Ace Anderson: Nah, doesn’t look like it was too bad.

Jerry Andrews: Now now, Ace, let’s not make... LIGHT of what these competitors put themselves through!

The shades come out again, Jerry slipping them into place while giving the camera an enthusiastic thumbs up. Ace sticks one large hand in front of Jerry’s face, gesturing towards the ongoing match without saying a word; his message to the camera tech MORE than clear. Enough of that silliness - back to the ring!

Rolling off the mat, he staggers to his feet and catches the rushing LIGHT with a quick snap DDT and a two count to go with it. The two exchange blows back and forth, neither seeming to get an edge, and soon Crazy Boy gets the upper hand after laying on series of stiff kicks, LIGHT digging deeper for grit and returning the salvo. Pulling Tyrone into a clinch, he lays on a barrage of knees to his chest before falling backwards and tossing him over with a monkey flip. Hopping the ropes with the barest of hitches in his movements, LIGHT comes down across Crazy Boy’s chest with a textbook perfect senton! As Crazy Boy measures his length on the mat, LIGHT goes for the cover.

...1!

...2!

- kickout!

Crazy Boy gets the kickout, LIGHT maintains control until they reach their feet, taking a few running steps to hit a high dropkick and getting ANOTHER two count from the referee as Crazy Boy kicks out. Expression unreadable behind his mask, he bends down to pick up Tyrone, LIGHT is met with a quick fist to the chin, staggering him backwards onto the mat, clearly fighting a one way ticket to dreamland!

Jerry Andrews: Oh no! Is it... LIGHTs out?!

Cheesy grin pasted on his face, Jerry slides his shades on again, waggling his eyebrows at the camera. Meanwhile, Ace buries his face in both hands, his muffled words barely audible.

Ace Anderson: Please make it stop.

Crazy Boy stands, purposefully striding towards LIGHT hauling him up to his feet and into a backbreaker, barely giving LIGHT the time to writhe in pain before using the momentum to drag his masked opponent into the corner. He throws LIGHT bodily into the corner and laying in some boots, Lane warning him off. Crazy Boy relents only to pull LIGHT outwards and planting him on the mat with a vicious body slam! A hasty, heedless Crazy Boy takes to the middle rope and fires himself straight at LIGHT in a haphazard slam, tying him up for the count!

...1!

...2!

- not yet!

LIGHT gets a shoulder up RIGHT at the two-count, both men climbing to their feet. and they exchange momentum back and forth. LIGHT takes it away with a backbreaker of his own with the aid of Crazy Boy’s long blonde ponytail, that gets a dirty response from the crowd and Crazy Boy taking it back with a running body check! LIGHT springs up, a definite hint of stagger showing in his injured leg, and goes for a step up ‘rana - but Crazy Boy shoves him up and over the ropes! Landing on the apron, LIGHT takes to the top rope and springs off and catches Crazy Boy with a beautiful high angle dropkick! LIGHT gets a pop from the crowd as he absorbs the impact of the landing in a quick roll and stumbles to his feet, waiting for Crazy Boy to regain a vertical base!

Ace Anderson: LIGHT’s leg is really starting to show some match fatigue. I wonder how much longer he can go on jumping around like that?

Jerry Andrews: I couldn’t say, but I CAN say that in his top form he makes... LIGHT work of all that aerial assault!

Jerry slides his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out the shades... only to have them snatched out of his hand and snapped in half by Ace Anderson!

Ace Anderson: No.

The camera goes from Jerry’s crestfallen face back to the ring action - and not a moment too soon!

With Crazy Boy still struggling to rise, LIGHT goes tearing across the ring in a clear last ditch effort, catching Tyrone with a nasty looking spear to the ribs! As Crazy Boy lays flat on the mat, head lolling, LIGHT mounts the turnbuckle. Facing the crowd, he points at the crowd with both hands, their cheers enormous as he then points straight up! Hopping straight up in the air, he touches on the top ropes JUST long enough to launch himself into a gorgeous Imploding 450 Splash! THE IMPLOSION!

Collapsing to the ground with Crazy Boy, LIGHT hooks a leg and waves Lane over, the ref sliding in for the count.

...1!

...2!

...3!!

Winner: LIGHT (Underground ♚) via Pinfall @ 19:13

As ”All of the Lights” by Kanye West thumps its way out of the PCW speakers, Lane raises LIGHT’s hand in victory as LIGHT lifts his retained Underground Championship belt to the crowd’s cheers!

Jerry Andrews: A big, hard fought victory for LIGHT!

Ace Anderson: He really gutted that one out, injury and all, against a determined Crazy Boy.

As LIGHT raises his championship in the air and turns to the ramp, he sees Cory "The Bear" Steel standing at the top of the ramp looking right at him. LIGHT glares right back as the shot cuts backstage.

The camera catches up with all three members of the Black Hand standing in a dimly lit corridor somewhere within the Pure Class Arena. Showtime, the largest of the trio, leans against the painted CMU wall while the Dillinger brothers face him. But wait...they're not alone. There in the darkness stands a fourth man with a very similar body type to Michael Wryght.

Sadistic: You got your instructions, correct?

The fourth man, garbed in a hoodie, slowly nods.

Grimm: You know the drill. This is a well-oiled machine and each cog needs to serve its purpose. As long as Billy holds the World Title the Black Hand has the power. I will deal with Non Compos Mentis accordingly. You guys do your part.

All four men nod in agreement, but the hooded man occasionally shoots Wryght a side-long glance.

Showtime: The Black Hand grows stronger. You're right underneath their noses and they'll never even see it coming.

Showtime holds his black-gloved fist into the center of the circle. Grimm and Sadistic follow suit and the hooded man isn't far behind them. After breaking their huddle, the mystery man heads off down the hall...accompanied by a rhythmic rattling sound.

Sadistic: Fellas, PCW is one step closer to enlightenment...but I've got a match to referee.

And with that, the trio walks out of view as Trauma goes to commercial.

Trauma returns from commercial break to find PCW World Champion and all around ugly guy Billy Sadistic already in the ring with a striped referee's shirt on. The fans don't like the man.

Jerry Andrews: This is something of a preview for the World Championship match at Living a Legacy...except Sadistic will be defending his title against Gem and Eira instead of refereeing.

Ace Anderson: Gem and Eira have met in the ring once before and Eira came out victorious. Perhaps things will pan out differently tonight with Sadistic as referee...

The hard edge of Anberlin's opening chords sound throughout the arena as Gem appears at the top of the ramp with Grant at her side. As the full power of “Little Tyrants” soars out over the PCW Faithful, she makes her way down the ramp. Gem awkwardly but enthusiastically moves glides along, acknowledging her fans, touching her hands along their outstretched reach, occasionally offering a smile or nod of appreciation as Grant follows. Aggressive, edge vocals with a counterpoint of intense, percussive guiar support joins the music as Gem approaches the ring, her gaze tightening on her goal. Her trademark focus comes to the fore as she ascends the steps and wipes her feet on the apron, stepping between the ropes and stretching out as she waits for the match to begin, Grant taking up a position ringside.

Jerry Andrews: Gem can't stand Sadistic. You can tell by the look in her eyes.

Ace Anderson: She's got good reason to hate the guy. He's had nothing but awful things to say about her. That, and the fact that he tried to paralyze her at Mass Destruction. She's still walking with a bit of a limp.

The arena lights lower to a shadowed dimness as "Dystopic" by Position Music begins to play over the PCW speakers. The somber opening notes soon joined by a heavy drumbeat, gradually augmented into what sounds like a full orchestra. At 0:41 when the vocals begin, a 20 foot pillar of purple flame explodes out of the center of the stage, the roaring fire screaming up to the rafters as smaller flames burst alight and race towards the ring. The conflagration dies down, and twin purple spotlights angle in to reveal Eira. She stands absolutely motionless for a few seconds, her left leg with its gleaming, spiked black metal knee brace crossed in front of the right; arms outstretched and head tipped back in a mockery of the Crucifixion. She lowers her arms and walks towards the ring, her relentless stride perfectly in sync with the heavy background beat, following the trail of flickering purple flames to either side of her path.

Jerry Andrews: There's definitely no love lost between Eira and Sadistic. They've been at each other's throats since the beginning of time as arch rival members of the Order and the Black Hand.

Ace Anderson: That shiny knee brace is a souvenir to remind Eira of when the Black Hand put her on the shelf for months.

While Eira keeps her primary focus on her goal, she offers an occasional smile or nod in response to fans on her way to down the ramp. Reaching ringside, Eira slowly ascends the stairs and walks to mid-apron ... wiping her feet before slipping between the ropes to enter. Swinging her long, silvery white braid behind her, she remains absolutely still and waits with predatory focus for the match to begin.

Jerry Andrews: Just to be clear, Gem and Eira aren't exactly friends, either. With the grandest prize in the game up for grabs, there isn't any room for friends.

Ace Anderson: There's no way Sadistic doesn't involve himself in this contest...beyond his officiating duties, I mean.

Special Referee Singles Match
Gem vs Eira
Referee: Sadistic

Sadistic stands in the center of the ring ready to start the match when something on Gem's person catches his eye. He slowly approaches her in the corner and demands to pat her down to check for foreign objects. The fans start booing, but Gem reluctantly obliges and holds her arms out. Sadistic is very slow and methodical about it, a sarcastic smile on his face all the while. Not satisfied with his search he orders her to turn around so that he can continue his thorough and humiliating search. Sadistic takes extra special care as he reaches her hips prompting Gem to roll her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. Watching her squirm is very gratifying for the Phenom. Suddenly, Grant is up on the ring apron demanding that Sadistic cut the crap...but it's actually Eira that puts a stop to it when she grabs Sadistic's arm.

Ace Anderson: Look at this! Eira coming to Gem's aid?

Jerry Andrews: I don't know that she's aiding Gem so much as she's just sick of Sadistic being a scumbag.

Taking exception to Eira interfering in his probing of Gem, Sadistic turns his attention to his arch enemy. Specifically her knee brace. Pointing at it he motions for her to get rid of it. She refuses, but Sadistic insists. He points to his referee's shirt and tells her that it's an illegal weapon and if she refuses to remove it he'll disqualify her. Begrudgingly, she unstraps the brace and drops it outside the ring.

Jerry Andrews: I don't know that she's medically cleared to compete without that brace, but Sadistic couldn't care less.

And FINALLY the match is able to start. Eira and Gem give sidelong glances to Sadistic every so often waiting for him to strike without warning. Billy posts up in a corner and drapes his arms over the ropes with a smirk on his face as the women tie up. Although the younger of the two, Gem has a slight size advantage over Eira. The two jockey for position with neither able to assert any sort of strength advantage. Eira attempts a high kick which is ducked and Gem unleashes of flurry of confident strikes, but the silver-haired warrior is able to block each one of them. There are several punches and kicks that come within millimeters of hitting their mark with the target dodging, rolling, or flipping out of harm's way! It looks like a real life fight sequence out of a Jackie Chan movie.

Ace Anderson: Wow! That was something else! While not the most physically imposing superstars on the roster, you won't find a more lethal striker than either Gem or Eira.

Even Sadistic appears impressed by the exchange and offers up mock applause to go with the crowd's genuine appreciation. Paying him no mind, the two lock up and Gem grabs a side headlock that she uses for a takedown. Eira is quick to counter with a headscissors but Gem handsprings out to her feet as Eira nips up to hers. Tired of the formalities Eira lays a heavy chop into Gem's chest! The impact echoes throughout the arena. Gem cringes but returns fire with a chop of her own! Back and forth they go exchanging knife edge chops! Chops are served!

Jerry Andrews: Good grief! Those shots are making MY chest hurt.

Gem strikes first with an uppercut! Eira staggers but retaliates with a spin kick to the gut. Gem with a throat thrust! Eira with a headbutt! They are tearing into one another and Sadistic is loving it. Gem lays a kick into Eira's bad knee and the rage on Eira's face is blatant. Eira doesn't hesitate to attack Gem's bad knee and this wrestling match has quickly escalated into a street fight! Like two small tanks exchanging explosive shell fire, they unleash on each other with every bit of deadly martial arts know how. Gem wraps her hands around Eira's throat as Eira goes for her eyes!

Ace Anderson: This is getting out of hand in a hurry! Where's the referee? What the hell is he doing?!

Sensing that he should probably do SOMETHING, Sadistic forces his body between the two to separate them. Gem and Eira glare at him indignantly. Having a change of heart, Sadistic shrugs as if to say “screw it” and motions for them to go at it some more, drawing Sadistic rare cheers from the crowd. Gem takes advantage of the interruption and levels Eira with a thrusting kick to the jaw. Gem makes the cover, but Sadistic is painfully slow getting into position and Eira kicks out at one. Gem glares at Sadistic angrily as she continues the assault on Eira.

Jerry Andrews: Hey, nice count, ref!

Gem heads to the top rope and connects with a big missile dropkick! Gem with the cover and again Sadistic takes his sweet ass time only giving Gem a one-count. Gem is clearly infuriated and she approaches the champion. Sadistic feigns innocence and Gem turns back to Eira...and walks right into a spear! Gem clutches her ribs as Eira goes for the pin. Sadistic drops down quickly and fires off a fast count. 1.2.kickout! Gem barely gets the shoulder up due to the quick count and Eira is clearly puzzled by the favoritism. Not wasting any time, Eira runs to the corner and connects with a springboard senton splash. Eira makes the cover. 1.2.kickout!

Ace Anderson: That was so close! I don't understand. Why is Sadistic favoring Eira in this match?

Jerry Andrews: Perhaps he wants to prove to Gem that she really doesn't belong in PCW's upper echelon?

Pulling Gem up, Eira plants her with a bodyslam before climbing to the top rope. Fall of the Morning Star! Eira connects with the double foot stomp and that should do it! Eira with the cover. 1.2.Sadistic suddenly recoils as if he's got something in his eye! Eira looks up with confusion as Sadistic points to his eye.

Jerry Andrews: Oh, give me a break...

Clearly frustrated, Eira walks over and gives him an ear full. She doesn't believe him for a second. Gem has recovered and nails Eira in the back of the head with a precision kick she calls Cold! Eira is down and Gem makes the cover. Miraculously, Sadistic's eye has recovered...but as he drops to make the count, he seemingly pulls a muscle in his back.

Ace Anderson: What's he gonna do next, have a heart attack? It's amazing that the guy is able to get through a wrestling match, what with his injury prone nature...

Sadistic hobbles to the corner reaching for his lower back and Gem is right behind him. She spins him around and has a few words for him. Sadistic simply laughs in her face, prompting her to shove him into the corner and turn her attention back to Eira. Sadistic looks to his referee's shirt, then to Gem. Back and forth he looks. Then, shaking his head in disgust, he calls for the bell. Having a brief discussion with the timekeeper it is announced that Gem has been disqualified for putting her hands on a PCW official. The PCW Faithful are IRATE!

Winner: Eira by Disqualification @ 12:10

Jerry Andrews: Oh, come on! That was a bunch of horse crap!

Sadistic points his finger at Gem and chastises her for putting her hands on him...so she kicks his hand to the side and catches him with a thrust to the throat. As this is going on Eira rolls to the outside. Although exhausted from the match, Gem has enough strength to hop on Sadistic's back to lock in the Endless Night! The fans erupt!

Ace Anderson: She made Sadistic tap with that very hold!

Sadistic staggers around with Gem on his back trying to fight her off, but she's tenacious. The Phenom reaches the ropes...but there's no referee to break the hold! How ironic! In a flash, Eira is back in the ring holding her spiked knee brace and she charges! She aims for Sadistic's head, but he ducks down and Eira catches Gem across the side of the head with a glancing blow that causes her to release the hold. If it was an accident, Eira doesn't seem remorseful. Instead, she waits for Sadistic to turn around and then lays him out with a sickening blow to the forehead!

Jerry Andrews: Sadistic is down!

Gem is up...and Gem is down, too! Eira clobbers her with the knee brace and she's dropped right beside Sadistic. The crowd isn't sure how to react but Eira's made it abundantly clear that there will be no allies at Living a Legacy.

Once again, the cameras catch Nathan Saniti knocking on a door with a look of determination on his face. The cameras swing around to see just who is behind door number two. The name on the door is Tyrone Smith. After a few seconds, the portal cracks open, and Crazy Boy pops his head out to his gentlemanly visitor. Saniti smiles, though tonight's transgressions weigh behind his eyes.

Nathan Saniti: I apologize for interrupting your night, Mr. Smith. May I have a few moments of your time?

Crazy Boy's eyebrows furrow for a few seconds, but then he opens the door wide without a word. He motions for Saniti to step in. The cameras begin to follow, but Nathan stops them cold.

Nathan Saniti: I'm sorry, dear Faithful. I'm afraid some conversations are meant to be private, at least for now. Be patient.

With that, the cameras cut back to ringside.

Jerry Andrews: What is going on on Trauma tonight!? This has to be the most chaotic episode we've had in a while, and that's saying something!

Ace Anderson: And things are about to get a little more crazy because right now it's time for the Last Chance Battle Royal!

Jerry Andrews: The winner of this match earns a spot in The Icemann Invitational Tournament and a chance to become number one contender for the PCW World Championship!

Ace Anderson: We've been hearing rumors for weeks about returns and debuts and guesses about who is going to be in this match and now we're just minutes away from finding out!

Jerry Andrews: You think Dazz will be in it? I liked him.

Ace Anderson: I seriously doubt that.

The cameras now cut to the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is the Last Chance Battle Royal! In this match, a participant is eliminated when he or she is thrown over the top rope and both feet hit the floor! The last competitor remaining in the match will be named the winner and will be given a spot in The Icemann Invitational Tournament!"

Sparse percussion resonates throughout the arena and is soon joined by a droning, distorted bass line. At that, A Perfect Circle’s ”Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” stomps out of the speakers and marches through the aisles. The drums, the distortion, the voices – all work to herald the arrival of Grimm.

"Introducing first, representing The Black Hand: GRIMM!"

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

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

Jerry Andrews: This man has to be a favorite in this match!

Ace Anderson: Wait, is Sadistic coming down here with him?

Jerry Andrews: He certainly is, I guess he's making sure that his brother wins this one.

Ace Anderson: Come on, get him out of here!

"Guillotine" by Death Grips plays and Kurt Kafka walks past the curtain and stands on the stage, shifting his gaze from one side of the area to the other before slowly walking down the ramp. Upon reaching the ring, he rolls in and hops onto the second rung of the closest turnbuckle and shifting his eyes as his face remains stoic.

"KURT KAFKA!"

"JOHNNY CASH AND PBR! JACK DANIELS! NASCAR!"

Jerry Andrews: WHAT!?

Ace Anderson: But he's still in the tournament!

Jerry Andrews: I guess technically the rules say 'Open to anyone who wants to participate that hasn't advanced in the the tournament' and he didn't advance tonight so.....

Ace Anderson: So if he wins this match tonight and his rematch next week, he'll have two tournament slots!?

Jerry Andrews: I have no idea.

Ace Anderson: Smart move by Michaelson to be honest.

Kristoff walks past the crowd's outstretched hands by staying in the middle of the ramp whilst walking. He will look around the crowd with disdain before getting to the ring.

"KRISTOFF MICHAELSON!"

As the frenetic percussion and rapid vocals of Mindless Self Indulgence's "Prescription"sound out over the PCW loudspeakers, the entire arena's light system begins to strobe with a rainbow of multicolored lights flashing over the crowd and the entranceway as Kelli dances out into a white spotlight and the cheers of the crowd. As the uptempo music continues, she makes her way down the ramp, giving high-fives, blowing kisses, dispensing hugs, and posing briefly for pictures with fans as she makes her energetic way to the ring! As she reaches the ring, she slips under the bottom rope and bounces around, pink sparks showering down from the ceiling as she darts from one corner to another and hops up on turnbuckles to fire the crowd.

"'DOLLFACE' KELLI STARR!"

Jerry Andrews: Kelli Starr is another person that many are betting on tonight.

Ace Anderson: What's up with her anyway?

"You Are A Pirate!" by Alestorm begins to play. With very little lighting and effects that simulate lightning, High Tide (in a pirate outfit) walks down the ramp slightly crouched over, as if he was sitting. He holds a large pirate flag in one hand, and in the other he is imitating steering a ship. He does this until he gets to the ring where he motions dropping and anchor and proceeds to hop on to the turnbuckle and dive headfirst over the ropes, rolling into a standing position. Then he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and pulls out a spyglass, looking around at the audience. He mimics loading a cannon and as he motions firing it, he jumps off the turnbuckle into the ring (to imitate recoil) as fireworks shoot from all four turnbuckles.

Chelsea escorts him into the ring, also wearing a pirate "costume" though she has no illusions of being a pirate, but does it to help High Tide get his point across.

"HIGH TIDE!!!"

Suddenly, a man jumps over the barrier at ringside and he slides into the ring.

Jerry Andrews: Sorry, I think we have a fan in the ring right now folks. Security!

Ace Anderson: Well, I guess technically he's allowed to enter and... wait... is that...?

The man had a thick, unkempt beard as if he hasn't seen a razor - or a mirror - in months. His hair redefines the word "disheveled." He's wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. He looks over at the referees and the ring announcer and nods.

Jerry Andrews: That's.... Rick Majors!?

Ace Anderson: Woah... we haven't seen him in competition in almost a year!

Jerry Andrews: Well, he won the Last Chance Battle Royal last year and made it all the way to the semi-finals!

Ace Anderson: And, from the looks of it, he's been sleeping under a bridge ever since!

"RICK MAJORS!"

"This is Gonna Hurt" begins to play as the arena goes dark and smoke begins to fill the stage. Multi-colored lasers strobe in time with the beat, revealing a silhouette in the smoke. As the music picks up an explosion rocks the stage, clearing the smoke and revealing...... Loki!

Jerry Andrews: WOAH!

Ace Anderson: This guy almost won the whole tournament last year!

Jerry Andrews: This is amazing!

Loki strides confidently down the ramp as the audience cheers, half way down the ramp he breaks into a sprint and slides under the bottom rope.

"LOKI!"

With that, the bell rings and the Last Chance Battle Royal is underway!

Last Chance Battle Royal
Open to anyone who wants to participate that hasn't advanced in the the tournament
Referees: Charles Lim, Joseph Buckland & Eddie Lane

All of the competitors in the match begin to circle, sizing one another up. No one wants to be the one to make the first mistake. Outside the ring, Billy Sadistic slinks around, obviously up to no good. Suddenly, as if on cue, a huge brawl breaks out! High Tide battles with Kelli Starr! Grimm takes on Kurt Kafka! Kristoff Michaelson locks up with Rick Majors. And Loki watches it all go down, waiting for his chance to strike.

Jerry Andrews: Here we go folks!

Michaelson kicks Majors in the stomach, doubling him over. He then drives his elbow into Rick's spine. Majors crumbles to the mat. Michaelson kicks him in the ribs. Majors crawls to the ropes and he uses them to pull himself to his feet. He doesn't stay there for long as Kristoff Michaelson charges at him with a clothesline... sending him over the ropes to the outside!

"Rick Majors has been eliminated!"

Jerry Andrews: Well, that didn't take long.

Ace Anderson: See you next year, Majors.

Loki immediately attacks Michaelson from behind and the two begin to brawl. Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring, Grimm in manhandling Kurt Kafka in the corner. He unloads on him with a series of strikes before driving his shoulder into Kafka's stomach. Nearby, Kelli Starr kicks High Tide in the stomach. She then takes him down with a reverse Russian leg sweep. Grimm pulls Kafka out of the corner, only to send him down to the mat with a DDT.

Jerry Andrews: Six competitors remaining in this match and no one wants to screw up and cost themselves a chance to enter the tournament.

Ace Anderson: This battle royal can change lives! You can quickly go from the outside looking in to a chance to compete for the PCW World Championship!

Loki throws Michaelson into the corner. He charges at him, but Michaelson gets his feet up and he kicks Loki right in the mouth. Michaelson now runs out of the corner and he clotheslines Loki down to the mat. Meanwhile, Grimm pulls Kafka up, only to drop him back down with a big wheelbarrow facebuster!

Jerry Andrews: Foddershock! This could be the beginning of the end for Kurt Kafka!

Grimm picks Kafka up and he throws him over the ropes and down to the floor below.

"Kurt Kafka has been eliminated!"

Grimm looks down at his fallen victim on the outside. Suddenly, High Tide is behind Grimm and he lifts one of his legs over the ropes!

Jerry Andrews: High Tide attacking Grimm from behind! He's almost got him over!

Ace Anderson: You always have to watch your back in a battle royal!

Grimm is almost over and out when High Tide is attacked from behind by.... Sadistic!

Jerry Andrews: Oh come on! Get him out of here!

Ace Anderson: Why isn't someone stopping this!?

Sadistic slugs High Tide in the back and then he throws him over the ropes to the outside!

Jerry Andrews: What!? No way! Come on now!

Ace Anderson: Unfortunately, it counts! You know the rules: "a participant is eliminated when he or she is thrown over the top rope and both feet hit the floor."

Jerry Andrews: This sucks!

"High Tide has been eliminated!"

Jerry Andrews: We're down to our final four now and...

The sounds of Eve to Adam’s ‘Immortal’ blast over the P.A. system, the opening refrain eerily prophetic.

I am immortal ...
I’ll never fade away.
I’m a legacy that lives beyond from beyond the grave.

I am immortal
I’ll never rest in peace
And you’re never gonna be
never gonna be
never gonna beeeeeee ...

BOOM!

The bass suddenly shifts to a more ... RECOGNIZABLE sound. That driving heartbeat, that inexorable march of war ... could it be?? ‘Xerxes’ by Audiomachine begins its’ ripple effect around the whole of the arena as the lights dim to nothing, save for the entranceway. Columns of fire and smoke erupt from nowhere. Billy Sadistic laughs maniacally in the ring. Maybe he knows what we ALL are beginning to realize, that it’s just another clever ruse on the part of the Black Hand!

... imagine his abject shock and horror when a rather large, hulking figure emerges from the backstage area. Straggly hair, muscles tensed and ready to strike ... gasoline for blood. HE’S HERE. PCW’s one and only Curse. The crowd erupts and Sadistic is absolutely gobsmacked. He’s pointing wildly towards the man, almost in complete denial.

Jerry Andrews: NO WAY! IT'S REALLY HIM!

Ace Anderson: THIS TIME HE'S ACTUALLY HERE!

A quick cut backstage to some of the talents watching the monitor, keeping track of the action unfolding. A singular head stands above the rest, a mane of silver. Eira. Eyes wide and unbelieving, she hurls her bottle of water across the room and tears out of the communal dressing room towards the entryway.

And for all his frantic gesticulations, Sadistic cannot wordlessly convince the demon to stay. He’s halfway down the ramp now, Sadistic having nowhere to go. The monster is cut and bleeding from several slices on his back and chest, bruises underneath the leather straps at his wrists. Links of chain drag behind him as he walks, it looks as though he’s been restrained quite well. But ... not well enough. And if there were any questions as to whether or not this is a ruse ...

‘DO YOU THINK YOU’VE BEATEN ME?!’ That gravelly, unmistakable voice booms over the loudspeaker ... heavier than any pyro blast or musical cue. Sadistic does NOT look amused. In fact, in light of this new development, has WILLINGLY hopped over the top rope and out of the ring! Backing up against the nearby barricade, his eyes are frozen on the figure as he stops in place. The forward advance is halted and the lights suddenly return to full power with a pyro blast from the four corners of the ring. And once everyone’s eyes have adjusted, the Curse has been lifted and the match continues, with Sadistic no where near the ring this time.

Jerry Andrews: What is going on!?

Ace Anderson: We'd he go!?

Everyone is stunned for a brief moment until the final four competitors remember that there's still a match going on. the four of them adjust themselves and prepare for battle. Loki, Kelli Starr, Kristoff Michaelson and Grimm stand in the ring. One of these competitors will win this battle royal and move on to The Icemann Invitational Tournament.

Jerry Andrews: Who's going to win this, Ace?

Ace Anderson: I have absolutely no idea. Any one of these four could walk out of here the winner.

Suddenly, Michaelson charges at Starr and he clotheslines her down to the mat. He pulls her up, but she fights him up, battling him towards the ropes with a series of strikes. On the other side of the ring, Grimm stands face-to-face with Loki. After a brief pause, the two men begin unloading on other another. After several shots are thrown, Grimm manages to get the upper hand and he drops Loki down to the mat. Meanwhile, Kelli Starr takes a step back and she charges at Michaelson, hitting him with a spear. The force of the move sends him through the ropes and to the outside!

Jerry Andrews: No! He's still in this! He went through the ropes NOT over the top rope!

Ace Anderson: If I was him, I'd just say outside for the rest of the match and rest. He's already competed once tonight!

Loki gets up to his feet and he blocks a shot from Grimm. He then hits him with a stiff kick to the stomach, doubling him over. Loki then grabs Grimm, sets him up, and hits him with a t-bone suplex! Loki now pulls Grimm up and he shoves him towards the ropes, trying to shove him over. Suddenly he's attacked from behind by Kelli Starr!

Jerry Andrews: Is Kelli Starr attacking Loki... or saving Grimm?

Ace Anderson: I've given up trying to figure out what's going on around here!

Starr grabs Loki and she hits him with a big strike to the chest. She then sets him up, but she's now attacked from behind by Kristoff Michaelson who has returned to the ring! Michaelsone begins to unload on her. He then sets her up and drops her with a belly-to-back suplex. As he stands up, he's dropped by a big clothesline from Grimm. Grimm now pulls Michaelson up but, before he can act, he's struck in the back by Loki!

Jerry Andrews: No one can quite get the upper hand in this match right now.

Ace Anderson: All it takes is one opportunity Jerry, and one person seizing that opportunity!

Loki takes Grimm down with a huge fisherman buster! Kelli Starr charges at Loki with a clothesline, but Loki ducks underneath. Loki turns around and Kelli connects with a round house kick, staggering Loki back. Dollface connects with another kick. Loki staggers backwards. Suddenly, Kelli Starr leaps up and she connect with a big Enziguri kick! Loki drops face first to the mat. But suddenly Michaelson comes in from behind and nearly kicks the head off of Kelli Starr with a big missile drop kick!

Jerry Andrews: BOOM!

Meanwhile, Grimm uses the ropes to pull himself up. Michaelson grabs him and he whips Grimm off of the ropes. Michaelson charges at Grimm with a clothesline, but Grimm ducks he. He then connect with a huge boot right to Kristoff's head, taking him down. Grimm pulls Michaelson up, but Michaelson hits him in the stomach. Kristoff brawls his way up to his feet and the two start exchanging rights and lefts. Suddenly, Loki connects with a forearm to the back of Michaelson’s head as staggers onto the ropes. Michaelson fires back though with a huge elbow across the jaw leaving Loki to stagger back. Michaelson bounces off the ropes and goes for a clothesline, but Loki ducks underneath as he bounces off the ropes and connects with a fallaway slam!

Jerry Andrews: Big move there by Loki!

Suddenly, Starr connects with a diving axe handle smash to Loki's back just as he stands up. She throws Loki towards the ropes and he goes over! But he lands on the apron. Dollface charges at him, but he steps out of the way. Kelli Starr almost throws herself over the ropes but she catches herself at the last second and stands up inside the ring. Loki runs at her and drops her with a clothesline. He then returns to the ring.

Meanwhile, Grimm stands he pulls Kristoff Michaelson up. Grimm sets him up, but again Michaelson battles back. He swings at Grimm, but Grimm dodges it. He then sets Michaelson up and drives him into the mat with The Harvest! Before Grimm can take advantage of his battered opponent, however, Loki attacks him from behind.

Ace Anderson: These four competitors giving it their absolute all here tonight!

Loki turns and he's hit with a throat strike from Kelli Starr. Dollface now turns and she hits him with the Candygram, knocking him down to the mat! Kelli Starr tries to pull up her fallen opponent, but Michaelson is somehow back on his feet and he attacks her from behind! He meets the same fate as Loki and he's dropped with a Candygram!

Jerry Andrews: Dollface is dropping people left and right here!

Kelli Starr pulls Michaelson up and she throws him over the ropes. He tries to hang on but he just can't do it. He hits the floor with a thud.

"Kristoff Michaelson has been eliminated!"

Jerry Andrews: And now we're down to three!

Ace Anderson: Do you think Dollface and Grimm might actually work together here to take out Loki?

We don't have the chance to find out as Loki tackles Dollface down to the mat. He then unloads on Starr with a series of strikes. Grimm approaches, but Loki responds quickly, getting to his feet and hitting him with a belly-to-belly suplex! Kelli Starr is up and she charges at Loki. Loki stops her in her tracks with a big kick to the midsection. He then sets her up!

Jerry Andrews: Ragnarok!

Loki pulls Starr up and drags her towards the ropes. But he's stopped by Grimm. Grimm sets him up, but Loki fights out of it. The two exchange shots before Loki gets the upper hand and he tackles Grimm down to the mat! Loki stands up now just as Kelli Starr charges at him! He bends over and gets under her, lifting her up and over the ropes! She lands on the apron! He runs at her with a clothesline. She dodges it and swings at him. Loki blocks it and he shoves her backwards! Kelli Starr's feet hit the floor!

"Kelli Starr has been eliminated!"

Jerry Andrews: There are just two competitors left!

Ace Anderson: One of these men will move on to face Non Compos Mentis in The Icemann Invitational Tournament!

Loki turns around and he's immediately attacked by Grimm. Grimm grabs him and he throws him into the corner. Grimm now charges, but Loki dodges out of the way and Grimm hits the turnbuckle. Loki grabs him now but Grimm breaks free. He then sets him up and drops him with Whisper's Wrath!

Jerry Andrews: This could be it!

Loki pulls Grimm up, but Grimm drives his elbow into Loki's stomach. He sets him up for a piledriver. Grimm lifts Loki up, but Loki blocks it. He then hits Grimm with a back body drop... over the ropes... and down to the floor! The bell rings!

"Grimm has been eliminated!"

The crowd erupts!

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the Last Chance Battle Royal: LOKI!!!"

Loki stands with his arms raised in victory as the crowd cheers.

Winner: Loki @ 32:41

Jerry Andrews: What a match! What a return for Loki!

Ace Anderson: And what a night! Loki just earned himself a spot in The Icemann Invitational Tournament and an opportunity to compete for the PCW World Championship!

Jerry Andrews: That's all the time we have! Good night everyone! Thank you as always for watching!

*CLICK*

Seth Archer & Michael Wryght fought to a draw
Kristoff Michaelson & Justin "Stormm" Michaels fought to a draw
Tha Joka def. Nathan Saniti
LIGHT def. Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
Eira def. Gem
Loki wins the Last Chance Battle Royal defeating Grimm, Kristoff Michaelson, Rick Majors, Kurt Kafka, High Tide, & Kelli Starr 

Everyone who sent in segs made this show what it was. Thank you. Also thank you to the creative team who put out amazing work this week as always. The next card will be up tomorrow.