CONTENT

Victory XXXIV

6 Jul 2015

The WrestleZone at Universal Studios, Orlando, FL (seats 1,400)

As the stream fades up from black, the Monday Night Victory logo comes across the screen. The funky beat of Living in America by James Brown begins. The logo pulses until we get to the first chorus. As it fades out we get a shot of screaming fans. We pan across, getting a good lookk at the new Victory ring aprons and stage.

As we come along the other side of the fans, the camera pans down to an upward angle. Suddenly a series of red, white, and blue pyrotechnics begin to explode on the stage. The theme music continues to go off as the camera changes angles. We get shots of the fans singing along to the sounds of the Godfather of Soul.

From the ring post, red, then blue sparklers begin to crackle up from tops. As the music fades out, the fans are even louder and we pan down to the commentator's booth where former VCW Champion, Dick Fury, and Jennifer Williams are standing by.

Williams: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to a post-July Fourth episode of Monday Night Victory. I'm Jennifer Williams and with me as always, none other than Dick Fury.

Fury: A little more enthusiasm Jen! Everybody loves the Dick.

Williams: You would be the first person to light fireworks off of his manhood and make the news, Dick.

Fury: Sounds hot!

Williams: In either case fans we have a great night ahead of you here from the Wrestlezone! Marie Van Claudio gets the opportunity of her lifetime as she goes one on one with the UTA World Champion. And that very title is in fact on the line.

Fury: That will be exciting.

Williams: I figured even you might enjoy it.

Fury: Dick already knows the finish. Marie shows us her upward-facing dog pose, much to Dick's delight, and then WHA-BANG-GO! Champion retains few seconds later.

Williams: I wouldn't count Marie out so easily Dick. Championship matches bring out the best in most folk.

Fury: Too bad there is no championship on the line for The Second Coming. Dick will be quite happy when she is spouting out blood like a tractor sprinkler.

Williams: You do have to think that in a First Blood match, Crimson Lord has the advantage here especially after what he did to her at Black Horizon.

Fury: Let there be blood. And let little dick be happy for retribution.

Williams: Wouldn't that involve Beckman?

Fury: No comment.

Williams: Well let's not forget that Chris Hopper goes one on one with the only confirmed Chamber participant, Kendrix, while Blackbeard and Samuel Owens battle it out for a spot in that very match at Ring King.

Fury: Before all that though - time for the old, creepy and the ugly.

Williams: Ron Hall may be a bit old but after that superkick to Wingate, you can't deny he hasn't lost his step.

Fury: Dick was talking about that woman that makes little dick shrivel up. Not even MVC Yoga helps.

Williams: Well then let's get to our first match of the night!

Williams: And we open this show up with the man who a mere week ago took it upon himself to be the voice of the fans, shoving his cowboy boot into the face hole of our boss as he takes on the 

Fury: Dick knows what it’s liked to take a stiff shot to the face, condolences go out to James Wingate and his family. 

Williams: You know, there’s a real question of legitimacy about Hall’s actions, a recent poll on the Wrestle UTA website had the fans TORN about whether his actions were justified…

Jessica is cut off by the sounds of Gold Medal as out from the back skedaddles UTA Hall of Famer and face kicker extraordinaire, Ronald Q. Hall. He does a little sassy dance atop the entrance ramp to the excited and feverish support of the Wrestlezone crowd, a small section of the crowd however takes umbrage with the man, yelling “Free Wingate” which doesn’t really make much sense.

Announcer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall Introducing first… making his way to the ring at this time, a UTA Hall of Famer, please welcome to the ring THE SOUTHERN REBAL… RONNNNN HALLLLLL!

Williams: A lot of support from the crowd here tonight but it seems like there’s a small contingent vehemently unhappy with the Outlaw’s actions last week. As a man who came out with the view that he was representing all fans, you have to wonder if that will impact his psyche in this upcoming contest. 

Fury: Dick has had to deal with a slow trickle of anger before, it can really jam a man up. 

Williams: I don’t think that even makes sense.

Hall hops up into the ring and poses once more to the vast majority of the fan’s delight, a few grumbles are barely audible and spread in between to shrieks and screams of the delighted crowd. 

The arena lights suddenly shut off. Four blood red spotlights shine on the ramp as All Hail Hell by Midnight blares through the arena. 

Fury: DICK THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD!

A burst of flame shot up from an opening at the top of the ramp. Following that the self professed daughter of Satan himself was seen rising up from the source of the fire.

Announcer: Ladies and gentleman hailing from Maplewood, New Jersey.....

Jalante stepped from out of the "pit." Beginning to make her way down the ramp. The arena lights slowly turned back on. Jalante shot nasty stares at the fans in attendance. They returned the favor by booing her. 

Fury: Dick always thought Satan’s daughter would be.. chunkier… like a real Bobby Dean style heifer. Just seemed right. 

Williams: Ignoring my colleague for a brief moment, it will be interesting to see how Jalante handles her return to action here tonight. The rumour mill has been stirring suggestion she may not be in top form and many predictions give Ron Hall a strong upper hand here. 

Announcer: Weighing it at one hundred and nineteen pounds! The Daughter of Satan......JALANTE!

As Jalante slid into the ring she grabbed the pentagram necklace that hung around her neck then lifted it up high in the air screaming out at the top of her lungs. She then rested the pentagram in the corner - turning her cold gaze back to the ramp. 

Williams: She certainly looks ready for action but is she going to be able to take down a renewed Hall of Famer. 

Fury: Well, if she doesn’t take down Ron, Dick’s right here for afters. 

Williams: What are you… THE BELL RINGS AND THIS ONE IS UNDER WAY.

As the bell rings, Ron Hall and Jalante begin to circle around the middle of the ring, taking measure of each other. The two go in for a lock-up and Ron Hall is quick to toss down Jalante to the match with the clear weight and height advantage. A frustrated Jalante looks up at Hall and tries to summon some form of Devil powers, this does not provide her with great success as Hall slides in and takes her over with a headlock takeover.

Williams: Not too often we can say Ron Hall has the size advantage in the ring… DICK DO NOT DARE.

Fury: Huh? Sorry, Dick was too busy working out what he would bargain for with Satan. What are your feelings on being a minion of hell Jessica?

Ron Hall keeps the headlock in tight, wrenching the neck of Jalante as the official goes in to check on the submission. Jalante refuses to tap, instead she sends a few sharp elbows to the gut of Hall, getting him to loosen up his tight grip on her. A quick and flexible kick to the skull allows Jalante a little breathing room as Hall tries to shake the cobwebs free from his mind. 

Williams: What do you think of Jalante’s flexib… nope. Nope. 

Fury: What, what were you going to ask?

Jalante springs back up on her feet, perhaps infused by mysterious devil powers, she rushes towards Hall and dropkicks him right in the knee. Hall winces in pain as Jalante backs up to go for a second kick straight to the knee but as she goes in for the kill, she gets an uppercut straight under the jaw. Staggered Jalante wobbles back as Hall hobbles to his feet.

Williams: A bit of wobbling and hobbling going on the middle of the ring. Jalante trying to use her youthful edge to increase the pace on Hall but the wily veteran, and there is no other way to put this, smashed her right in the face. 

Fury: Seriously, Dick wants to know what you were about to ask him about Jalante?

Hall looks at the staggered Jalante and turns to the crowd for a brief second, a roar of excitement flows through the Wrestlezone as Hall nurses his weakened knee, taking measure of Jalante. He lays in wait for Jalante as she slowly enters the kill zone. With the crowd on his side, Hall goes in for the kill…

Williams: Looks like we’re about to see some Country Chin Music… Hall has Jalante measured! NO! JALANTE SEES IT COMING AND ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY.

Fury: The devil must have told her that was going to happen.

Jalante rolls back up to her feet and gestures to the crowd how intelligent she was to dodge out of the incoming Country Chin Music. She forgets however that Ron Hall is still up on his feet and as she turns back around to the action…

Williams: COUNTRY CHIN MUSIC! The first was dodged but Jalante’s cockiness got the better of her and the wily veteran laid in wait. 

Fury: And the fans are going cock-a-hoop.

Williams: I hate you a lot. 

Fury: That’s what they all say. 

Jalante crumbles to the mat as The Outlaw does a little dance to the crowd, overcome with excitement the he managed to catch her in the moment. He doesn’t waste much time however, dropping down for the cover. He hooks the human pile of flesh formerly known as Jalante’s leg as the official slides in for the count.

Williams: I can’t see Jalante getting up from this, that was picture perfect from Hall. ONE! TWO!

Fury: KICKOUT! … Just kidding.

Williams: No seriously, I cannot put it into words how much I hate you.

The officials hand slams the mat for the three count as Hall leaps back up, a gleeful crowd all too happy to count along with his victory. The referee raises Hall’s arm high as “Gold Medal” plays once more.

Williams: Hall of Famer Ron Hall was just too much for the returning Jalante here tonight. Perhaps an ill-advised return to the ring, Dick? 

Fury: She shot her load pre-maturely from all signs of her match this evening.

Announcer: Here is your winner… by pinfall… THE SOUTHERN REBEL. RONNNN HALLLLLL

The crowd roars its approval once more, Ron Hall basking in his victory ON VICTORY as we fade out and off elsewhere. 


When Faith Meets Chance

We are backstage in the WrestleZone, our camera focused on the Man in the White Mask looking around the hallway. He is dressed in black shorts, white Pumas and a white Death from Above 1979 tee. Oh, and the mask.

Sanctus: This certainly has grown since I’ve been here.

OSV: Sanctus! Sanctus! Over here!

Tilting head and mask, Sanctus looks over his shoulder. Finally noticing the camera that’s trained on him, he walks defeatedly back to camera left and “Rumor Man” Stan Davis. Davis is standing in front of the Wheel of Chance.

Davis: Sanctus, time you a few questions?

Peering down to the fictional wrist watch, the would-be White Knight chuckles.

Sanctus: Since when did time factor into such things?

Rumor Man Stan briefly looks confused, but presses on.

Davis: Did I just hear you say that you had been here, at the WrestleZone before?

Sanctus: Not perfectly accurate, no. I meant that this, Victory itself, has become something so much bigger than when I was apart of it.

From off screen we hear three familiar voices. Baritone, Hot Gravel, and Husky. Sanctus and Davis turn their heads to see the oncoming freight train of pain.

Walker: Bruh, that don’t count at all.

Greer: According to the rules of the contest, I am a one time UTA Legacy Champion.

Walker: Then that means Zhalia gorram Fears is like, what, three or four time Legacy Champion? Mayne, I don’t wanna live in a universe where that’s reality.

Greer: Yeah. Well, I’m still better than you.

Ty stops and looks at the KoP, squaring up. Dane meanwhile stops and watches as this plays out, the annoyance building to a fever pitch.

Walker: Square up, fool!

The KoP looks at his partner, shrugs and squares up, adopting a fighting stance that matches his best friend and tag team partner.

Greer: You wanna do this?

Walker: You’re gotdamn right.

As Greer and Walker begin circling as if something is going to happen, The Only Star’s patience has reached critical mass. Quietly he attempts to massage away the annoyance by massaging his temples, but the pure idiocy of his partners in crime does so little to assuage any of this. He turns his head and notices Sanctus and Davis who are standing by the Wheel of Chance. Having his curiosity piqued, he turns to Greer and Walker and uses his best “Dad” voice.

Dane: Ahem. Stop it. Now.

The Terrible Twosome stop mid-grapple and look over at Dane, then back to each other.

Greer: Still better than you.

Walker: Pssh, whatever…

Ty turns his attention to Sanctus and the Wheel of Chance.

Walker: The HALE is this thing?

Greer: The Wheel of Chance?

Walker: Nah, this Shang Tsung or whatever.

He looks Sanctus up and down, scratching his head.

Greer: I thought he explained himself last week on Wrestleshow? Something about being a Saint. High praise, but is he a former one time Legacy Champion?

A vein in Eric Dane’s head starts pulsating.

Dane: STOP! NOW!

Team Danger frown.

Walker: Fine, Jayzuss. Gotta be all mad an’ stuff.

Greer: Yeah, dude. Increase your chill or whatever Ty and his people say.

Rumor Man Stan takes a look toward the trio, he shoots another glance at Sanctus before taking himself and his microphone over toward Team Danger.

Davis: Team Danger, all three of you are scheduled to compete at next week’s Wrestle Show. What are you thinking knowing that you could compete in any of these matches?

Davis does his best Vanna White impersonation, pointing to the ominous prize wheel and it’s various match iterations.

Dane: You want me to ruminate on the possibility of having to face Will Haynes in a Rock, Paper, Scissors match? A Tuxedo match? Or worse yet, letting that little twat Amy Harrison pick the stipulation?

The Only Star sneers at the very thought. Meanwhile, Greer has ideas of his own.

Greer: Could be worse, you and your nonexistent knees versus anybody in a Dance Off would be completely unfair.

Dane: Yeah, until I broke out a picture perfect River Dance and SHOCKED the world. Shocked, I say. SHOCKED!

A smirk as only Eric Dane is allowed to deliver. Walker nods with a grin.

Walker: Hilarious, gotta be honest though. I’d be down for some Are Pea Ess action.

Greer: You would, you scared coward.

Walker: How does that make me a scared coward?

Greer: You just don’t want to get tapped out again… Speaking of which, doesn’t that mean an I Quit match is right up your alley? What with how hard you were tapping to the Sektor Stretch and all.

Ty scoffs at this.

Walker: Psssh… Whatever, bruh. I’m talkin’ about how I could not only WIN the Prodigy Title. WIN Mike Best’s Twenty Grand. AND. WIN my way into the next round of the Ring King. That’s easy money all around, homie.

Ty snorts, thumbs his nose.

Walker: Besides, I’m the KING of Rock, Paper, Scissors. The KING. Plus, can you imagine the meltdown Mike Best would have if his pride and joy lost the Prodigy Title AND Twenty Gees in a game of chance without havin’ to even catch these hands?

Ty shadow boxes a little at the KoP who swipes his hands away, laughing at the thought. Meanwhile, Sanctus stands there watching this all go down in front of him as though he was invisible.

Sanctus: Interesting as this all is, I don’t think we’ve met.

The Man in the White Mask extends a hand as he walks toward the group. In unison all three of Team Danger form up, looking down at Sanctus’ hand, then at his masked face. Dane’s face is stone, Greer’s brow furls, while Walker stands there contemplating… until something hits him.

Walker: Ooooh shoot, mayne, I remember this dude now.

Ty slaps Stevie on the shoulder and then points at Sanctus. Greer’s brow perks up as he looks at the Black Jesus.

Walker: You’re fighting him next week, bruh.

The KoP looks back at Sanctus.

Greer: Well, this isn’t awkward all of a sudden.

Meanwhile, Sanctus is looking at his hand. He pulls it back and wipes it on his shorts. Again, he extends it… waiting. Greer ponders, but Walker steps in with a suspicious look for Sanctus.

Walker: How do we know you ain’t got some kind of disease, bruh? I mean, you got that mask on and that makes you shady, tryna do my boy here like he’s David Palmer at the end of season two of 24?

Greer guffaws and takes Sanctus’ hand, because the King of Pain has banged so many rats in his time he’s got all of the diseases anyway and some that haven’t even been discovered yet.

Sanctus: From one luchador to another, I look forward to this fight. Slightly less so if it requires a tuxedo…

Greer: God, I hope not.

Dane: If you two aren’t going to kiss, we might as well keep moving.

The Only Star draws looks of disgust from Greer and Sanctus as they step one more step back from one another.

Dane: Look, this has been fun and all, but I’m positive there’s got to be some better use of our time. Yours too even. Fellas fan out, let’s see if there anything worth getting into here tonight in Orlando...

The boys back away, both scanning around for potential shenanigans as they make their way off-screen. The Only Star’s eyes linger on Sanctus.

Dane: And you… Get rid of the mask, ya look like gorram Szalinski. Or worse, La Flama Blanca. If I may be so blunt, from one wrestler to another, nobody wants another LFB or Madman running around this place, capicé?

Sanctus: When the Faithful tell me that this mask means nothing to them, to us, maybe then I leave it for dead.

Eric turns toward his departing brethren. 

Dane: Whatever you say, man. Keep the faith, or whatever. By the way, no hard feelings next week if Greer tries to kill and/or eat you. That’s just his way.

He finally takes his leave. Sanctus cocks his head, maybe even scrunches his eyebrows a bit under his mask, and watches on silently as the Trio of Terror make their way on down the hall. For his part, Rumor Man Stan stays happily out of the way.


Advice

Backstage, the camera pans around to see the figure of CBR sitting on a stool, his arms folded.  Wearing an Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt, black and white, tight around his biceps and a pair of light blue jeans, the Canadian star with his hair tied back is watching a monitor showing replays of the opening match.  

A ring crew girl walks past, as Ranier checks her up and down, before the camera pans out to show a finger tapping him on the shoulder.  Zooming further out it shows Kendrix standing behind him in ring gear.

Kendrix: ‘Scuse me Maaa’...uh, Mr Ranier.  You got a moment bru...I mean sir?

Claude turns his head and brushes his shoulder with his hand as if fleeing the dust from himself and turns back to look at the ring hand walking away again.  JFK waits a moment before once again tapping him on the shoulder.  

Kendrix: I said excuse me.  I got something to ask you, yeah?!  

Ranier looks back, visibly annoyed, brow furrowed and turns on the stool to face Kendrix.  

CBR: What?

He looks Kendrix up and down with a confused look in his eye.  

CBR: Oh.  Yeah.  I know you.  

Kendrix folds his arms and stands up straight, nodding with a grin on his face, looking proud with himself.  

CBR: Yeah, a banana and protein smoothie Jack.  

Ranier turns back to look down the hallway. Kendrix, looking pissed off and slightly insulted, Clenches his fist and prods CBR's shoulder hard making him turn around again.  

Kendrix: I don't think you understand Mr Ranier. I ain't no ring hand and I certainly ain't getting you no shake!

He prods Ranier hard in the chest with each word, causing him to rub his solar plexus.  

CBR: Alright...

Ranier stands, a few feet taller than Kendrix, stepping forward, his large muscular frame causing JFK to take a step back before standing his ground.  

Kendrix: Nah nah mate.  It's not like that yeah? I just wanted to ask your advice, innit bruv?! You know, about Hopper.

Ranier, his own fist clenched, blinks a moment, not moving and waiting to hear out JFK.

Kendrix: You see, if you'd been paying attention at all, you'd know that JFK is the one man sensation, the rising star here in UTA.  You'd know that I've already beaten the likes of Pin Smith, Graeme Clauson, Ron Hall and a whole load of other

He makes an inverted commas sign with his fingers.  

Kendrix: ...Superstars here and that this week I gotta go up against Chris Hopper.  

CBR's face softens a bit and he sits back down in the stool.  

CBR: Yeah?

Kendrix nods.  

Kendrix: Yeah bruv.  I got Chris Hopper tonight and I was gonna ask if you had any you know...pointers for an old friend like me?

His smile bright, showing off his teeth, Kendrix lifts his arms open in a welcoming sign. Ranier looks him up and down again.  

CBR: Oh yeah...I remember you kid.  You're that little guy with the mouth.  

Ranier smirks.  

CBR: Three things you got to remember about Chris Hopper.  One. He's bigger than you.  Two...Icebreaker.  And three...who do you think you are disturbing my time sitting back here?

Claude stands again, Kendrix taking a step back.  

CBR: I've beaten Chris Hopper twice now, but he's no joke.  And how a little pipsqueak like you is going to be any kind of challenge for him, I don't know.  He's a veteran of the game, technical and powerful.  I doubt you can outthink him, I doubt you can out wrestle him and you certainly can't out manoeuvre him.

Ranier prods Kendrix with his finger, causing him to step back again.  

CBR: Listen 'mate', good luck out there, cos you'll need it.  And next time, have something achieved in this business before you think you can ask my...

Does his own inverted commas.  

CBR: ..."advice"...

Ranier smirks, steps back and turns, leaving the scene.  Kendrix stands and looking at the camera, then over towards where Ranier is walking and back at the camera again.  

Kendrix: Yeah boss, and you better walk away! I told you innit to get out of my face bruv! I'll take him out all on my own.  

JFK steps to the camera, shaking his head.  

Kendrix: What a wanker...

The scene fades.


Brought to You By

 

Kill the lights. Passing synthesizer squeals pierce the silence, each one sending a brief swoop of light across the arena. AFI's I Hope You Suffer soon kicks-in with its pounding drums and heavy, foreboding horns and Cayle Murray appears through a storm of strobe lights.

Williams: The younger brother of wrestling legand, Andy Murray making his debut here tonight.

Fury: Wrestling legend? How? He never set foot in the UTA before. He never went one on one with Dick. Legend... laughable Jennifer.

Cayle gazes across the audience from beneath his hood, and sweeps an extended hand across the scene. He walks down the ramp as the blizzard of lights continues, slapping hands with fans on one side, before moving across the ramp and repeating the act.

Announcer: Hailing from Aberdeen, Scotland...

He finally reaches the ringside area and hops onto the apron. Pausing to salute the audience, Murray finally enters between the middle and top ropes.

Announcer: Standing at 6'1" and weighing in at 220 pounds...

Cayle hops onto a turnbuckle. The song's powerful chorus hits, and bathed in the spotlight's glare, he throws his hood back and stretches his arms out, completely lost in the moment.

Announcer: Cayle Murray!

He stays atop the turnbuckle for the chorus' duration, then loosens his posture and drops his arms. Murray can't help but smile at the crowd's positive vibes.

Williams: Murrary looking to make a big impact in his debut match here tonight, but has two obsticles ahead of him.

Finally, Cayle hops down from the turnbuckles and uzips his hoodie. He tosses it aside and takes to a corner, loosening his muscles and preparing for a fight.

Williams: This should be a good match.

Better Must Come by Geego begins to play over the loud speakers and Lisil Jackson walks out with a bold smile on his face raising his arms up bobbing his head to the music.

Williams: The highly anticipated debut of Lisil Jackson here tonight folks.

Fury: Highly anticipated? Really? Dick's just glad those stupid videos about him debuting are done.

Lisil walks down the ramp slapping the hands of many fans as he does.

Announcer: Hailing from Kingston Jamaica.

Lisil continues toward the ring.

Announcer: Standing at six feet and three inches and weighing in at two hundred and fifty three pounds...

Lisil slides into the ring and gets on the top rope and points out to all of the fans before he slides off his sunglasses.

Announcer: He is the Jamaican Inspiration! Lisil Jackson!

Lisil slides off his Hawaiian Shirt, gold chain, and his fedora setting them down on the ring apron.

Williams: The fans are pumped to finally see Lisil Jackson in the ring.

Lisil throws a few punches in the air with a bold smile ready for the match.

Williams: The Jamaican Sensation looking to make his mark here tonight!

The unfamiliar theme of Monster by Skillet begins to play over the arenas sound system as the UTA fans in attendance turn their attention towards the entrance way. As the instrumental beginning merges into the opening lyrics, Colton Thorpe backs out from the curtain with his head slightly cocked. He slowly turns, facing the audience with an unimpressed expression.

Williams: Colton Thorpe looking to create a streak by leaving with a big win here tonight.

Fury: The only guy in the match who has had a UTA match before, this is Dick's pick to win.

Announcer: Hailing from Cleveland, Ohio...

Thorpe saunters down the entrance ramp, looking out into the mass of people as the red and white strobe lighting lights the rampway. His appearance is disheveled: Hair is unkempt, soaked with water dripping down his face. Sports a black jacket which has the sleeves torn off, the initials “CT” appear to be spray painted onto the left breast pocket. His walk is slower, and is constantly adjusting his neck and rolling his shoulders.

Announcer: Standing at 6'3” and weighing in at 228 lbs...

Thorpe walks around towards the left side of the ring with a lack of acknowledgement for the ringside fans. The audiences reaction towards the UTA newcomer is mostly silent, yet boos and jeers can be heard from various sections in the arena. He climbs up the onto the apron, and takes off his jacket, tossing it onto the floor outside the ring.

Announcer: COLTON THORPE!

Williams: Triple threat action!

Fury: Dick loves a lil triple threat action.

Hearing his name brings the slightest of a smirk to his face, but very little emotion is shown. He splits the ropes into the ring and begins to pace back and forth, throwing phantom punches as a type of pre fight/match routine. He adjusts to the center of the ring bouncing up and down, shifting his weight from left to right.

The bell sounds.

Williams: Murray takes off attacking the Lisil Jackson with a series of rights and lefts to start the match.

Fury: Yea! Shut him up! Finally.

Williams: The Jamaican Sensation being rocked by those fist.

Colton Thorpe moves into action, grabbing the shoulders of Cayle Murray and yanking him back and down to the canvas.

Williams: Colton Thorpe now getting involved here.

Fury: You notice how he attacked Murray and not Lisil Jackson? That's how you know he isn't racist.

Williams: Are you kidding me?

Fury: No. It's facts Jennifer.

Williams: Thorpe now stomping Cayle.

Lisil Jackson comes forward and begins to stomp him as well.

Williams: Temporary alliance here with this almost gang-like beat down on Cayle Murray.

Fury: If you can't hang, you get beat down. It's as simple as that Jennifer.

Williams: Lisil pulling Murray to his feet.

Lisil Jackson and Colton Thorpe look at each other. Thorpe grabs the other side of Murray and working together they send him into and over the top rope, crashing to the floor outside.

Williams: This triple threat now, at least temporarily, down to just Colton Thorpe and Lisil Jackson.

Jackson and horpe look at each other before locking up in the center of the ring.

Williams: Collar and elbow tie up now.

Lisil Jackson tosses Thorpe into the corner and lands a few combinations.

Fury: Jackson seems to have a little strength behind him.

Lisil Jackson lands several boots into the mid section of Thorpe. He lands a powerful right fist that knocks Thorpe to the canvas.

Williams: Lisil landing some boots as Thorpe grabs the ropes to bring him to his feet.

Lisil Jackson goes in for a waist lock but is meet with elbows to the side of the head.

Williams: Thorpe breaks the hold. Thorpe runs at Lisil Jackson and his sent to the canvas by The Jamaican Sensation.

Fury: That was a big hip toss.

Lisil Jackson exhales and walks over to the in pain Natural Boy.

Williams: Thorpe is holding his lower back with Lisil Jackson now focusing on the injured area.

Fury: See a weakness and exploit it.

Lisil Jackson starts to land some forearms to Thorpe’s back. Lisil Jackson rakes his nails across Thorpe’s back.

Williams: That looked like it hurt.

Thorpe walks from Lisil Jackson in pain. He turns and lands a quick right jab to the upper chest of Jackson.

Williams: Looks like Thorpe is getting the offense going.

Colton Thorpe grabs Lisil Jackson in a side headlock and begins to crash knees into Jackson’s face.

Williams: Thorpe going to Knee City on Lisil.

Thorpe takes a few steps from Jackson and rushes him and lands a boot to the side of his head.

Williams: A vicious boot to Lisil Jackson. Lisil is back on the canvas with Thorpe going to work.

Colton Thorpe grabs Lisil Jackson’s legs and begins to stomp on the insides of Lisil’s legs.

Williams: Thorpe  looks like he could be setting Jackson up for a submission move.

Fury: Dick would love if Jackson submitted his first match. It'd be great.

Williams: Looks like Thorpe is going for a Figure Four.

As Thorpe comes in on Lisil Jackson, Lisil begins to fight him.

Fury: Lisil Jackson trying to fight off the hold.

Lisil is able to push Colton off of him, causing him to stumble back and into the ropes before falling to his knees.

Williams: What shear strength displayed by Jackson.

Thorpe gets up and greets Lisil Jackson with a kick to the stomach as he rises, quickly grabbing his head and falling down to the canvas.

Williams: SNAP DDT BY COLTON THORPE!

Fury: YES!

Williams: Colton Thorpe looking to end this right now as he covers Lisil Jackson.

Fury: Get him!

Cayle Murray slides into the ring and as the referee raises his hand for the third time, Murray leaps through the air and comes down with his fist across the back of Colton Thorpe to break the count.

Williams: Cayle Murray saving Lisil Jackson, but for no other reason than he wants to win this match himself.

Fury: Greedy.

Murray quickly gets to his feet. Colton Thorpe begins to get up as well.

Williams: Murray runs, rising knee lift takes Colton Thorpe off of his feet! Cayle Murray showing an impressive come back here tonight.

Colton Thorpe pushes back to his hands and knees. he reaches up and holds his face as Cayle Murray comes toward him, booting him in the abdomen. Thorpe is sent over and lands back first on the canvas holding his stomach.

Williams: Murray trying to take Colton Thorpe out so he can hopefully capitalize before Lisil Jackson comes back to after that DDT.

Murray grabs the top ropes and uses them for leverage as he puts his feet into the side of Colton Thorpe and pushes him across the canvas and under the bottom rope. Thorpe rolls off of the apron hitting the floor.

Williams: It is down to Lisil Jackson and Cayle Murray now as this triple threat match continues.

Lisil Jackson begins to get up. Cayle Murray quickly turns to him, grabbing his arm.

Williams: Lisil Jackson whipped into the ropes. As he returns, Murray lifts him up on his shoulders and falls back. Samoan drop!

Murray rolls out to the apron, and stands up. He then begins to climb the nearby turnbuckle from the outside.

Williams: Cayle Murray goes up top.

As he leaps he throws his arms out.

Williams: Murray connects with a headbutt!

Fury: That's no problem for him. It's not like that idiot has anything in there to hurt.

He immediately readjust himself and hooks the leg of Lisil Jackson. The referee drops to count.

Williams: Kick out at two, Lisil Jackson isn't out of this yet.

As Murray gets up, he pulls Lisil Jackson up with him.

Williams: Half way up, Lisil pushes Cayle back. Quick jab to the eyes.

Fury: How about your fan favorite now Jennifer?

Murray grabs his eyes in pain, turning away from Lisil Jackson.

Williams: Jackson runs, BULL DOG! He plants Murray's face into the canvas after that eye jab.

Lisil Jackson gets on his knees, lifts Murray's head and begins to slam it repeatedly into the canvas.

Williams: Lisil Jackson uses pure aggressiveness and power to regain control in this match up.

Lisil Jackson drops Murray's head and gets to his feet.

Williams: Lisil Jackson rolls Murray over and lifts his leg. Elbow drop to the inner thigh of Murray.

Lisil Jackson gets up again, and lifts both legs this time.

Williams: Stomp to the inner thigh of Murray, followed by another.

Fury: What's this guy have? Like five moves of doom or something? Switch it up!

He then grasp Murray's legs tighter and leans back, falling to the canvas.

Williams: Slingshot! Murray slams into that turnbuckle!

As Murray bounces off the corner post, he stumbles back and turns into a boot to his gut from Lisil Jackson.

Williams: Lisil Jackson jumps, lifting his knee into the face of Cayle Murray.

Murray hits the mat as Lisil Jackson runs and bounces off the ropes.

Williams: Lisil leaps, leg drop across the chest of Murray. It may be over for Murray.

Lisil Jackson covers his opponent and waits for the referee to count.

Williams: Kick out by Cayle Murray!

Fury: How did he kick out?!

Lisil Jackson slaps the mat and gets to his feet. He yanks Murray up with him.

Williams: Irish whip by Lisil Jackson, no, reversed. Jackson off the ropes, spinning heel kick by Murray!

As Lisil Jackson flies back to the canvas, Murray collapses to one knee.

Williams: Murray still recovering from the damage done by Lisil Jackson.

Fury: And this is the brother of a so called legend?

Murray stands up, but falls to one knee again.

Williams: I think Cayle Murray may have injured that knee. This can't be goodfor him.

Lisil Jackson uses the ropes to get to his feet. He looks at Murray, struggling to get up.

Williams: Lisil Jackson takes this opportunity as he runs at Cayle Murray. Shining Wizard... NO!

Murray grabs up under Lisil Jackson's legs as he come sat him, lifts and falls backward.

Williams: Murray able to counter! Murray able to counter!

Murray gets up. He shows a bit of uncomfortableness in his knee as he walks over and drops an elbow to Lisil Jackson.

Williams: Murray lifts Lisil Jackson. Irish whip. He catches himself by the top rope!

Lisil Jackson holds onto the top rope as Murray runs at him with a clothesline that sends both of them over and crashing to the floor.

Williams: Both men hit the floor on the outside with momentum. That's got to hurt.

Fury: The outside of the ring tonight has seen more action than Cayle Murray has his entire life.

The referee leans over the top rope and begins his count.

Williams: On the outside, Lisil Jackson trying to get to his feet.

Once up, Lisil Jackson grabs Murray and pulls him halfway up, before he hits Lisil Jackson in the gut.

Williams: Murray not out yet.

Cayle Murray takes Lisil Jackson and directs him to the ring, rolling him back in under the bottom rope. As Murray reaches up to grab the ropes and pull himself up to the edge of the apron, Colton Thorpe runs around the ring and grabs the back of his tights, pulling Murray down from the apron.

Williams: Cayle Murray yanked from the apron back to the floor.

Colton Thorpe quickly slides into the ring and immediately is stomped by the foot of Lisil Jackson.

Williams: Lisil now pulling Colton Thorpe to his feet. Pushes him into the ropes, using them for momentum to send Thorpe across the ring. Lisil Jackson follows. Thorpe off of the ropes... HUGE clothesline by Lisil Jackson!

Cayle slides into the ring behind Jackson.

Williams: Murray back in the ring.. Jackson turns. Goes for another thunderous clothesline... Murrary ducks...

Lisil quickly turns around as Cayle leaps back and twist, connecting with a Pele Kick.

Williams: SEEING STARS BY CAYLE MURRAY! HE HIT IT!

Fury: That was right on the mark.

Williams: Murray covers Jackson...

The referee slides into place and begins to count. As his hand hits the canvas for the third and final time, the bell begins to sound.

Announcer: The winner of this match via pin fall... CAYLE... MUUUURRRAAYYY!!!!

Williams: Big debut win here by Cayle Murray as he looks to create his own legacy in the UTA.

Murray stands tall, his arm lifted by the referee as his music hits and he celebrates his win.


Civil Engineering

Backstage in the WrestleZone, a member of the UTA Crew leans against the hallway wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He’s a smallish man, his “STAFF” t-shirt two sizes two big. The man that he’s conversing with is no stranger to making friends with the so called “little people” of the United Toughness Alliance-- he is one of the nicest guys in professional wrestling when he’s not between the ropes-- and his name is Tyrone Walker.

Whatever they’re talking about, we are joining them mid-conversation.

Crewman: ...you’re out of your mind, man.

Walker: Tell me I’m wrong. TELL ME I’M WRONG. The plot was perfect. The dialogue was complex an’ immersin’. The musical score was top notch, an’ the actors put on a performance that defined an entire generation. You don’t even know, bruh.

Crewman: ….there is no way that White Chicks should have gotten an Oscar, Ty.

Walker: Mayne, you don’t even know about movies.

Crewman: Do you know what movie won the Oscar in 2004, Ty? LORD OF THE FREAKING RINGS. The Wayons brothers should have beat Lord of the Freaking Rings? I can’t even believe that--

The crewmember suddenly trails off, his eyes falling just over the right shoulder of Tyrone Walker. He nods his head to the Mocha Mogul of Team Danger, gesturing that he may want to turn around.

Slowly, Ty does just that, though he’s perhaps less than impressed with what he sees before him. Michael Best, looking like a sleazy used car dealer, straightens his tie and adjusts the lapels on his coat, standing face to face with Tyrone Walker for the first time in over seven years. He’s flanked at his right side by Cecilworth Farthington, the veritable Mr. Moneybags of The Machine.

Best: Mr. Walker.

He nods his head at the man who ended John Sektor’s undefeated streak, extended his hand in a showing of friendship. It’s not exactly appropriate, considering they have never resembled what anyone on planet Earth or the International Space Station might call friends.

Walker: ...Sup?

Having left his hand extended for just long enough for it to look awkward and foolish, Michael quickly pulls his hand back and rests it at his side. He clears his throat, trying to pretend as though he wasn’t just disrespected by a man whose respect he has never bothered to earn.

Best: Alright, formal it is, then. Just wanted to wish you luck next week, Mr. Walker. There’s a whole lot riding on your match, you know. The Prodigy Championship. Enough cold hard cash to keep your various… baby mama’s…?

He turns toward Farthington, a quizzical look on his face as if wondering if he’s just used the correct terminology. Farthington wears an assured expression as he nods his head, patting Michael on the back and silently letting him know that he’s still hip to all the kids watching at home.

Best: In any case, your many illegitimate children will be well taken care of. And hey, Ring King is really coming down to the wire… seems to me like your luck is bound to run out sooner or later.

With a look of amusement on his face, Tyrone Walker crosses his arms in front of his chest and tries to hold back a condescending chuckle. Seeing the smile on his face, Farthington smiles too. Because a good mood is contagious, and he doesn’t entirely understand subtlety.

Walker: So… what? This is your move? You gonna try an’ Intimidate me here? Talk me into not showin’ up?

Michael gives him a nod, and a smug smirk.

Best: That’s exactly the plan, Mr. Walker. You’re a glorified tag team wrestler. A walking fluke. You beat John Sektor and I was reasonably impressed, but we both know that you tapped out in the middle of that ring. You beat Bronson Box by what, a disqualification? Meanwhile, my client was busy breaking Lamond Robertson’s arm in a thousand piece puzzle in the opening thirty seconds of her first title defense. You should ALREADY be intimidated-- if I were you, I’d be the first American to ever hop on a floating door and defect TO Cuba.

He takes a look at his watch, as though counting down the amount of time that Tyrone Walker actually has left to bail out of this match at next week’s Wrestleshow. He raises the watch to his ear, checking to make sure that it’s keeping time.

It’s a very nice watch. He’s being an ass.

In any case, Walker doesn’t look impressed.

Walker: Yanno, you might be right, mayne. Maybe I can’t beat your little, sheltered Prodigy. Then again, maybe I can. An’ honestly, bruh, when I take your girl’s belt an’ a big briefcase full of your money, it’s all gonna be worth it to watch you flip ass and go crazy in a Chipotle like a little kid who just found out they didn’t have a Happy Meal. Might even auto-tune that nonsense an’ make you famous on a mixtape.

Staring at Michael Best, Ty grins as wide as a Super Bowl shark-- it’s as though he’s replaying Michael’s Burger King meltdown in his head all over again, and imagining what it might sound like with a beat. Michael not only doesn’t look amused, he looks downright angry.

In any case, he tries to keep it business-like.

Best: Alright, Mr. Walker. You wanna have your pride, that’s fine-- I know the language “you people” speak, so let’s just get down to it.

Walker: ...you people?


Walker raises an eyebrow, but Michael simply rolls his eyes.

 

Best: ...Team Danger. Last week, Stephen Greer was a smart man and he took a smart path in the Championship Scramble with my client, Cecilworth Farthington. And he did it for cheap. The question is, are you as smart as Stephen Greer? Because we have a much more… lucrative… deal for you than the one that we made with your partner.

Walker: I’m listening.

Cecilworth Farthington pulls his right arm out from behind his back, where a very large leather briefcase emerges. He holds it out in front of him, unlatching the snaps and opening the lid to face Tyrone Walker. The camera slowly pans down to reveal the sum of money inside.

A twenty, a five, and two single dollar bills.

Seriously, it’s ridiculous-- literally an entire giant briefcase that contains four bills.

Walker: ...twenty seven dollars? Get the HALE outta here with that, mayne. If you want me to whore myself out, it’s gonna take more-- A LOT more than twenty seven dollars, psssh!

Cecilworth Farthington clears his throat, reaching into his pocket and fishing around for a moment.

Farthington: I see, sir, that you drive a hard bargain. Allow me to “sweeten the deal”, as they say.

He drops the contents of his pockets out into the mostly empty briefcase, and now the offer has indeed become more lucrative. Two more single Washington’s, rounding out the total to twenty nine dollars, and a single packet of some kind of grape drink. They aren’t paying The Machine for a product endorsement, so it’s in the briefcase label side down.

Tyrone Walker simply stares down at the open briefcase, his eyes full of disgust. Not just because he’s been hilariously lowballed by Farthington, the worst negotiator in the history of finance, but because this is pretty goddamned racist.

Best: So what do you say, “homie”... we have a deal?

Walker: ...For twenty nine dollars? Yeah, “homie”, I think I’mma take my chances on your kid not bein’ the Terminator.

Michael swallows the anger in his eyes, taking a deep breath as he stares into the eyes of the man who has already provided one big disappointment to The Machine in this year’s Ring King tournament. As he calms himself down, though, the look on his face turns to one of smug satisfaction.

He shrugs.

Best: Well, Mr. Walker, that’s your prerogative. I’m disappointed that we couldn’t do business, and I do sincerely wish you luck against Alex Beckman next week.

He hails for Farthington, who is ready to leave at his heels. They turn to walk away, but Michael suddenly turns back around, his smirk widening.

Best: ...you’re about to find out why you’ll need it.

The sentence has hardly left his mouth when Tyrone Walker’s head explodes forward toward the unforgiving concrete floor of the Wrestlezone. He crumbles into a heap, as a powerful snap front kick hits the back of his skull, taking him to the ground like a piece of raw meat falling from a kitchen countertop.

Alex Beckman stands over him, the UTA Prodigy Championship slung over her shoulder as her chest heaves up and down. Michael crosses his arms, looking pleased with this turn of events.

But Beckman isn’t finished. She drops onto his back, mounting him in a ground and pound predicament, but this isn’t an MMA fight and there aren’t any rules. She begins throwing vicious elbows down onto the back of his head, twelve to six, and gutting a gash open into skull as she rains blows down upon him. One after another, Walker is helpless and face down as she goes to down on the back of his unprotected head, taking full advantage of an unfair ambush.

Michael leans down, putting his hands on his knees as he speaks condescendingly to Tyrone Walker.

Best: Should have taken the money, Mr. Walker. If I were you, I’d do what you and your homeboy do best-- quit before you suffer an embarrassing loss.

Cecilworth Farthington looks horrified, clearly not knowing what was about to take place here tonight. Michael reaches into the briefcase, scooping up the contents and throwing them down onto the body of Tyrone Walker. He snaps his fingers, as the two cogs in his Machine follow behind him and they make their way down the hallway.

Only Beckman looks back, seeing Tyrone Walker lie unconscious as crimson leaks through his cornrows and onto the floor below.

UTA Monday Night Victory continues.


One Chance

In the back, Marie Van Claudio was preparing for her match by swinging her arms around and cracking her neck. Her hair is up for this occasion as she is ready to go. The UTA World Championship match was getting closer and closer as the matches were going by. As Marie was warming up, there was a knock on the door as we see Jamie Sawyers come in.

Van Claudio: Um, you cannot just barge in here to get a word with me. The focus is NOT on an interview with you! My focus is on this World Championship match I have! NOT for some stupid questions!

He looks at her as Marie keeps warming up.

Sawyers: Marie, we know that, but we just need a couple of words about how you’re feeling going into this match as the eyes in the crowd will be on you tonight.

Marie looks at him as she stops warming up her arm and looks at him with a serious look.

Van Claudio: Jamie, how do you think I’m honestly feeling? How do you think I feel about my first ever shot at the UTA World Championship?

Sawyers goes to answer, but Marie cuts him off with a finger.

Van Claudio: I’ll tell you how I feel. I knew the days were going to be getting shorter, with the hours getting longer for this match. Each time, I fell asleep at the end of the day, I couldn’t even keep my eyes shut because the only thing on my mind....IS the World Championship that La Flama Blanca’s holding right now!

She goes back warming up.

Van Claudio: And every time I think about the World Championship, I think about what could happen. One of them is the fact that I have ONE CHANCE. ONE CHANCE of a life time to go out there and PROVE to La Flama Blanca that I’m CAPABLE of taking his World Championship away from him! I have ONE CHANCE to prove EVERYONE in the UTA that has said that I can’t be on top of the world….WRONG!

Marie stops for a second.

Van Claudio: But if I lose this match, I think of what could happen in the future and if I lose this match, there could be a possibility that I will NEVER have a CHANCE at having a shot at the World Championship EVER AGAIN! It would kill me and I would FOREVER BE LAUGHED AT for never living the hype of being on top of the World!

Marie has emotion in her eyes.

Van Claudio: But I am NOT here to lose! I came here ready for a fight and ready to give La Flama Blanca the biggest battle of his life AND I’m also to unleash a different side of Marie Van Claudio that nobody has EVER seen before!

Sawyers looks at her.

Sawyers: And what would that be?

Marie looks at him.

Van Claudio: You and the rest of the UTA fans will just have to wait and see in my match.

Marie looks at him one more time.

Van Claudio: La Flama Blanca, in less than an hour, you and I will be in the middle of the ring fighting for our lives and I hope you are spending every last minute with that title because ONCE our match is set and done, the UTA World Championship will be in the hands of Marie Van Claudio!

Marie looks at Jamie before backing up.

Van Claudio: Tick Tock…Tick Tock….Tick Tock….

Marie walks out of the locker room for her match as Jamie looks at her as we fade out.


Brought to You By


Thank You

Open on Will Haynes standing in front of a Wreslte UTA banner. He wears a black v-neck t-shirt, dark washed denim jeans, and a pair of black trainers. He waves at the camera slightly, indicating that he's ready to begin.

Haynes: Eric, before things get underway. I just wanna say one thing.

Haynes pauses, letting the fans at the Wrestlezone and at home settle in. He wants people to hear this. 

Haynes: Thank you.

Some fans in attendance scratch their heads, some fans at homes take to Twitter to air their confusion. The THRILL he just smiles and continues.

Haynes: Thank you for remdin' me a' somethin' I found out a long time ago. Thank you for reminin' me that anyone in this business, n' I mean anyone, can turn on ya in the blink of an eye.

He is of course discussing not only the events surrounding Bobby Dean at Black Horizon, but Mikey Unlikey's unlikely return last week at Wrestleshow 40.

Haynes: Thank you for teachin' me a lesson, Eric, before we even stepped foot in the ring. I appreciate it, I really do.

Haynes nods his head. He's trying to convey that he's serious even if people will take the entire thing for sarcasm.

Haynes: That's the thing about you Eric, you're a great teacher. You could train someone for years n' that cat would be the next big thing in this whole industry.

You got a keen eye for talent. Hell if you didn't that other place you're runnin' wouldn't be nearly as successful as it is.

I mean just look what you're doin' with Bobby Dean. You're takin' him from nothin' n' you're buildin' him int' somethin'. I gotta admire that. You know what - no - I gotta respect that.

Haynes nods his head again. Respecting the enemy, very Art of War of him.

Haynes: I respect what you've accomplished, Eric. All the titles, all the glory, all the Hall a' Fames. It's been a great run. I'd be a fool not t' acknowledge that. Hell that's half the reason I was excited about Mikey's final battle in the UTA cause it meant goin' up against the likes a' you, n' Ty n' Greer. 

Y'all are established all over the place. From Milian to Minsk.

Haynes smiles at his nod to Seinfield.

Haynes: That's why this match means more. It means more t' me than beatin' Zhalia Fears, though she's no slouch. It means more t' me than gettin' yet another win over Sean Jackson, regardless a' the finish. 

You're the Only Star, Eric. The end all, the be all. An immortal. 

And now I get the chance to get in that ring with you, one on one, n' see if you've still got it, or if the rumors are true - n' see if you've lost a step.

Haynes shakes his head. He's hoping that isn't true.

Haynes: I hope that last part ain't true. I don't want a watered down version a' Eric Dane. I want the extra strength version. N' I think - knowin' how much you love to use World Titles to validate your legacy - I'm gonna get dat extra strength version. 

In spades.

Haynes rubs his hands together. He can hardly stand the wair.

Haynes: I'm ready, Eric. I'm ready. I know the fans are. Now, the only question, is are you?

Williams: Next up folks, we see more one on one action as Samuel Owens attempts to get a little momentum going up against Blackbeard.

Fury: YARGH! 

Figure It Out by Royal Blood blasts around the arena, and the crowd greets the imminent arrival of Samuel Owens with a mixed reaction. Owens walks out from behind the curtain, pausing at the top of the ramp for a moment to scan the crowd.

Williams: Owens certainly took the fight to Eric Dane a couple of weeks back but came up short and is now hunting to get the elusive momentum. Do you think he can get the job done against the Pirate King? 

Fury: Dick is uncertain if he can even score, he used to be a hobo you know.

Williams: I’m almost certain that isn’t true. 

Owens begins his walk down the ramp, ignoring the outstretched hands of the fans trying to touch him as he passes, looking focused.

Announcer: Making his way to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California...

Owens reaches ringside and quickly climbs the steps, as the announcer concludes his introduction.

Announcer: Standing at six feet, two inches and weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds...

Owens stretches in the ring, pulling on the ropes as he warms up for the match ahead.

Announcer: SAMUEL... OWENS!!!

Owens finally acknowledges the crowd, raising his arms in the air briefly at the sound of his own name.

Williams: Owens is focused, Owens wants this win, you can see it in his eyes.

Fury: Of which he has two. 

Owens bounces on the spot for a moment, as he waits for the referee to make his final checks and begin the match.

Williams: If you beat a Pirate King, do you become one? Can Samuel Owens become a Pirate King here tonight on Victory? 

Fury: Dick doesn’t want to live in a universe where Pin Smith can be considered a Pirate King. 

The Pirate King  from The Pirates of Penzance plays as a group of men dressed in rags all walk out, chained together with shackles. The chains are all linked behind them and the men pull the chains and a large litter, where the Dread Pirate King, Blackbeard stands.

Williams: Quite the arrival by Blackbeard here tonight… a man who was very close to arriving to this week’s Victory as the new Wildfire Champion.

Fury: Sadly he didn’t use that sweet assed parrot to distract the ref or he would have totally won!

Announcer: And his opponent, currently being pulled out on a boat… he is the Dread Pirate King… BLACKBEARD!

A fearsome look is in his good eye as he snarls at the men. He has a live, talking parrot on his shoulder he calls Parley, a black eye patch over his bad eye, a hook over his left hand, and a thick black beard that trails to the center of his chest. Blackbeard climbs down from the litter and climbs in the ring. 

Williams: I don’t know if Owens quite knows what to make of Blackbeard. 

Fury: Dick can vouch that Owens has known a few bearded loons in his day. 

Owens looks on at Blackbeard, a little uncertain of how exactly to approach the man who is wielding a cutlass in his direction. The official steps in and gestures to Blackbeard that he must leave his parrot and cutlass with a ringside attendant. Blackbeard glares at the official, turning the attention of his cutlass to the man who dares to take it away from him. The referee gestures that if he does not comply, he will be disqualified. 

Williams: Blackbeard could very well be disqualified before this match even begins!

Fury: All for a parrot.

Williams: I’m sure it’s the cutlass that’s the more hostile issue in our esteemed official’s mind. 

Owens just looks on from his corner, not entirely sure what move to make as Blackbeard continues to make vague threats about what will happen if anyone touches his parrot. After a good thirty seconds of tension, Blackbeard finally acquiesces and tosses the cutlass out to ringside, the parrot still sitting proudly on his shoulder. The referee looks towards Owens, who just throws up his arms in frustration. The parrot, as if having a mind of its own, jumps off Blackbeard and plunks itself down at the front of the announce table. 

Williams: It looks like we’re being joined by a guest here fans. Not sure whether he’ll have much to say.

Fury: Someone get that bird a headset! It’ll probably be smarter than half our guest announcers. 

With the ring free of all distractions, the bell is finally signalled for and Owens wastes no time, rushing towards Blackbeard and throwing lefts and rights. Blackbeard, no slouch at brawling himself, returns the favour and the two men slug it out in the centre of the ring, firing lefts and rights back and forth. Owens gains the upper hand with a few stiff rights that send Blackbeard staggering towards the ropes.

Williams: Well, this is what happens when you have two predominately brawlers step into the ring against each other. You have to know that Owens is letting out his frustrations with the pre-match shenanigans. 

Parrot: SHENANIGANS! SQUAWK! SHENANIGANS!

Fury: Dick… err… Dick has no words.

Owens hoists up Blackbeard and sends him crashing backwards dead in the middle of the ring with a belly to belly suplex that gets the crowd fired up. Not satisfied with one, he lifts up Blackbeard and drops him with a second belly to belly suplex, the crowd eager to see more, a scant “one more time” chant breaks out. It falls on deaf ears however as Owens goes in for the cover.

Williams: Owens thinks he’s done enough with those two HUGE suplexes.

Fury: Dick believes they were Trump-esque YOOGE LUXOURIOUS SUPLAH! 

Parrot: …

Williams: Guess he had nothing for that one. Here’s the cover! One! Two! No! Blackbeard gets his shoulder up.

Owens looks up at the referee to check the count and is informed that it was indeed a two count. Not deterred by this in the slightest, he hoists Blackbeard up once again by the hair and looks to hit a third belly to belly. This time however, Blackbeard sends a few knees to the gut of Owens, sending him backwards and gasping for air. 

Williams: Blackbeard able to create a bit of space for himself here.

Fury: But for how long? He needs to strike now.

As if heeding the words of Dick Fury, Blackbeard hoists Owens up with hands gripped around his neck. Owens flails in the air, gasping for air as Blackbeard refuses to break the hold. The referee warns Blackbeard that he has Owens in an illegal choke which doesn’t appear to impact much. The brief referee distraction however, loosens the grip enough for Owens to drill his boot directly into the sternum of Blackbeard, causing Blackbeard to drop him. 

Fury: Referee bias! That was a clear distraction.

Parrot: DISTRACTION. SQUAWK! DISTRACTION!

Williams: It was clearly not a distraction, that was an illegal choke and the referee was doing his duty to warn Blackbeard. He’s lucky he wasn’t disqualified. 

Owens crumbles on the mat, clutching his neck and trying to regain his composure as Blackbeard clutches his chest and yells at the referee. Owens sees the opening and quickly scramble back up to his feet. Owens yells at Blackbeard to get his attention and get it he does as Blackbeard snaps his head over to Samuel. Blackbeard goes for a wild swing but Owens ducks out of the way, causing Blackbeard to hit nothing but air. A pain shoots up the back of Blackbeard, causing him to clutch it in pain.

Williams: Perhaps Blackbeard showing signs of injury from the belly to belly suplexes. 

Fury: Perhaps he’s just getting old and stiff. That reminds me…

Williams: Sorry to cut you off partner but Owens seems like he’s just spotted his opportunity. 

Owens rushes in and hooks the leg of Blackbeard, lifting him up and over his head with a textbook Fisherman’s Suplex.

Williams: He calls that the Ode to Monaco. This one may be over. Owens hit it picture perfect. 

Parrot: OVER! SQUAWK! PERFECT! SQUAWK!

Owens keeps the Fisherman Suplex hooked in for a bridge, he hoists himself up high to hook everything in snug as the referee goes in for the count.

Williams: A bridging pin. This could be it! One! Two!

Parrot: THREE! SQUAWK! THREE!

Fury: How did it even…

Williams: Never mind that Dick! The bird is right! That’s a three and Samuel Owens has defeated the Dread Pirate King. 

Owens breaks the bridge as the referee’s palm slaps down for the three as “Figure It Out” begins to play again over the announce system as Owens rolls back up to his feet. The referee presents him to the crowd as the victor to a positive audience response. A smattering of high pitched whoos are mixed in with some applause as Owens soaks in his victory for a few moments.

Announcer: Here is your winner… by pinfall… SAMUEL! OWENNNNNNNS!

Williams: An impressive win by Samuel Owens here tonight, Blackbeard is not an easy man to take down.

Fury: Can someone get this demon parrot out of here? Call animal control or something! Or Jalante! She knows voodoo, right?

Victory fades out on Owens rolling out of the ring and slapping a few fans hands as he makes his way back up the ramp.


A Segment

We cut backstage to the trainers rooms of the Wrestlezone where we find Tyrone Walker sitting on a metal folding chair while getting stitched up by one of UTA’s medical staff. Milling around behind the staffer is Stephen Greer who paces like an angry lion, while Eric Dane stands motionless, but you can see the wheels turning.

Dane: And you didn’t do anything to provoke this? Nothing to give that punk Best a reason or an excuse?

The KoP shoots a serious glare at the Only Star.

Greer: What the hell kind of question is that?!

Dane doesn’t even look at Greer, his focus locked in on Walker.

Dane: An honest one. If we’re going to breaks some legs, I want to know what happened. Also it’s a matter of severity. We’ve never went up against a guy like Mike Best. He reminds me too much of me, so I’m trying to trace the logic in this. Am I really supposed to believe that he thought twenty-nine dollars was enough to buy off the guy who just came off of whipping Sektor and Box’s ass?

Ty looks up, wincing a little due to the glare of the ceiling lights hitting his now sensitive eyes.

Walker: Heh, thanks for the benefit of the doubt, D’, but you gotdamn right it don’t make no sense. That’s what I’m sittin’ here tryna tell you.

Dane’s brow rises briefly.

Dane: Look, I’m just saying that I wouldn’t put it past you to have done something-- ill advised, something so very you, that would have set her off like that. You know, not everyone thinks those Blackaconda jokes are cute.

Ty scoffs.

Walker: Psssh. An’ I’m tellin’ you, that I was standin’ there talkin’ to some dude when Mike Best rolled up on me, tryna get me to back off the match with Becksy. Then that Shang Tsung, chop saki hooker, laid my ass out after I turned down Mike Best’s offer to punk out so she could walk on through to the next round. Next thing I know, I’m on the floor an’ you bastards are draggin’ me in here… Besid--

Practically frothing, the KoP cuts in.

Greer: What more do you need to hear, man? They jumped one of us, unprovoked, and even if he did “provoke” something, THEY STILL JUMPED ONE OF US!

Dane considers this for about five point four seconds.

Dane: We’ve gone to war for less.

Greer: Exactly. Lets do this then.

Dane: Yep. Lets burn it to the ground.

They turn to walk out, rage set on both of their faces. Before they can get too far Ty makes to stand up.

Walker: Aye, hold up…

The staffer struggles to keep Ty seated.

Medic: I’m not done, please, si-sit dow--

Walker: Get outta my face, dude, you ain’t even wantin’ to be testin’ me right now.

Greer and Dane turn back, their eyes see their comrade attempting to stand up to join them as he pushes the staffer aside.

Walker: Now then, I’mma tell y’all to back off here.

Dane and Greer doubletake as they have become Jack’s complete and total surprise. Pushing up, Walker feels a sudden light headedness from the blind side kick that he took from Beckman and stays seated.

Dane: Don’t work that way. They put hands on us, we put hands on them. End of story.

Greer: Yeah, what’s the problem?

Walker: I’m tellin’ y’all to stand down on this one, because that kid’s gonna get herself a primo asswhuppin’, but I’mma be the one to do it, ya heard?

Dane and Greer look skeptically at each other, then back at Walker, who shakes his head and finally stands up, though still a little wobbly as he approaches.

Walker: She don’t know who the HALE she’s messin’ with, because I ain’t all a’ these other jokers she’s been foolin’ around with, an’ after this?

Ty points to his head.

Walker: Y’all better believe it’s a lesson that I plan on teachin’ her personally next week on Wrestleshow. I ain’t no indy jerkoff, an’ I ain’t no Lamond Robertson. Little Miss Big Girl wanna play dirty with Black Jesus, I’mma crucify that ass. Dig it?

Dane and Greer nod as Walker sits back down, letting the staffer finish up with his examination.


Brought to You By


Hope for the Future

The scene fades in backstage where one of UTA’s latest signees - Lisil Jackson - is busy resting off his debut match while sitting on a production crate. Numerous members of the crew are busy with their duties while walking past him.  

L. Jackson: Eyy chu, any of ya tink ya can -

Never able to finish his words as suddenly a young woman shouts out ‘Lisil!’ and leaps at him; clutching her arms around his shoulders from off to the side.

L. Jackson: Holy mudda! Don’t startle a brudda like dat! Ya almost knocked off me fedora! Do I know ya?

Zhalia Fears looks up at the hulking Jamaican and steps off, swings her duffel bag aside and takes a seat on the crate next to him.

Fears: Nope. Not really. Not yet.

L. Jackson: Den why dee hug? Not dat I mind… If everybody as a whole hugged more dis world would be a betta place.

Fears: Friendly face to welcome you to the UTA? Consider me the welcoming committee or something. Before you know, you have to deal with the sour faces.

L. Jackson: I see… Don’t worry I already had an encounter wit dat bumbaclot Colton Thorpe…

She smiles back at him.

Fears: Come with me!

Jovial and energetic as ever Zhalia leaps from the crate, grabbing the wrist of Jackson and pulling him along with her down the corridor. For some reason Jackson was intent on following to see what was up.

The two screech to a stop. Well Zhalia stops, and Jackson crashes into her from behind, causing them both to stumble forward as Zhalia jumps Lew Smith from behind and wraps her arms around his neck and legs wrap around him.

Fears: Lisil, this is my friend Lew Smith. THE rightful UTA World Champion.

L. Jackson: Ummmm eyyyy brudda…...

She releases her grip and steps back as Lew turns and faces the two.

Smith: Ha! Hey Zhalia, always a pleasure to encounter you. My head is still sore from the attack and the match, need to treat me nice, I’m fragile, ha!  And you must be Lisil, right? Nice to meet you! Couldn’t have been a better introduction.

Fears: The humble Lew Smith of course. Buuuuuut, things happened. Wingate took his glory and tried to steal his smile. And failed, of course.

Smith: Ha! We all have to fight on. If you think my smile is what gets me through, then I’ll smile harder than I ever have done before. His decision was...interesting. I do feel that my over-exaggeration of the match made it the show of the year, no doubt, but he is the owner...what say do I have? All I can do is hope that there will be another chance to topple La Flama Blanca before Ace In The Hole.

Fears: Still, you deserved to walk out as the champion. You should have the title, and I know you will one day soon. Until then, I got you this dude!

She swings her duffel bag back around and unzips it. Then pulls out a UTA World Championship title. Replica of course. Handing it to Lew.

Fears: Yeah it is not the real thing - available on the UTA Shopzone - But as far as I am concerned, as well as the fans, and numerous of our colleagues -- this here title is worth more than the one around La Flama Blanca’s waist right now. No fault of his own of course.

L. Jackson: I seen what happened… Real shame mon… Such travesty….

Smith: Ha! Thanks Zhalia. It means a lot! I’ll use it for my next interview, show a little bit of who it should belong to. Ha!

Lew winks and smiles.

Smith: And no worries man. I’ve been beaten down by and overcame the impossible mountains of talent here. There will be that day where the real deal will come around. People all across the world will be proud to see it happen. It’ll be just one of those things you’d love to see once.

Fears: Keep it until you win the Ace in the Hole. Sell it. Or you know do like I would do and give it to some lucky fan after the show with your autograph.

Zhalia smiles and pats them both on the back before stepping aside.
 
Fears: You two play nice now. I have some nachos to grab and a seat to get to so can watch The Second Coming prove the naysayers wrong! Lisil, nice to meet you big guy!

With a lasting wave Fears sprints off down the corridor in the direction they came from, leaving Smith and Jackson to get acquainted.

Smith: Absolutely great to meet you, man. Ain’t she something, eh? Ha!

L. Jackson: I will say one ting… Dat lil woman sure has dee cheeriness of an Islanda!

The two chuckle and shake hands.

Smith: I’ve got nothing to do and you’ve just finished your match. Why not walk and talk for a bit?

L. Jackson: Sure mon! I’m always open ta conversation!

Lisil nods as he holds out his arm to let Lew lead.

Smith: So, what brings you to the UTA? I hear that their recruitment system is relentless.

L. Jackson: Brudda I came to dee UTA fo a new chance at life. Ta spread dee word of inspiration! Ta make tomorrow a betta day! Dat and competition is ma new addiction!

Smith: Sounds inspirational in itself! Good on you. I’d like to see that unravel!

Lew smiles.

Smith: With me, one of my old fed’s wrestlers ran the development league here. I wasn’t in the best of places back in England and my manager, best friend, got in contact with him and pulled me out of my rut. The money was good to help me out but…

Lew sniffs and wipes his nose.

Smith: Soon enough everything was dandy and it no longer became about money. Being the VCW champion after three matches must’ve got the attention of the highers. It’s the people you know I suppose the moral of the story is. Ha!

They continue to proceed down the corridor.

Smith: And then, as Fears so rightly pointed out, I had my UTA World title shot.

Lew pats the replica proudly.

Smith: Eventually you become what people expect of you and you’ll continue to impress. Which brings me to my next point.

Lew halts their walk as Lew turns to Lisil.

Smith: What’s your dream?

L. Jackson: Ya know mon… I can easily say dat dee dream I have is ta redeem maself from past mistakes… But dee real goal in dee end is bringin gold home to dee islands! Bring glory back ta Jamaica! Let ma people sing proudly in celebration!

Lisil says pondering for a few seconds.

L. Jackson: Ya know mon… Don’t let dis setback get ya down. Because brudda I know all ya gotta do is believe in yaself! Believe in ya pride! On dee islands dee struggle is real… But we neva give up hope! Trust me mon… Today is one day but tomorrow is anotta! Betta must come….

Lisil suddenly breaks out into song spontaneously.

L. Jackson: BETTA MUST COME!!!! I FEEL A NEW DAY DAWWWNIN!!! ON DEE WINGS OF A DOVE BRIGHT AN EARLY DIS MORNIN!!!!

Lew smiles and taps Lisil’s back with a light palm.

Smith: Well, all I can hope for is that you reach your dream. Not only for yourself but for your home too. After your match tonight, and all the future ones, no matter the outcome I hope you get what you fight for. But this is where I must wrap our little conversation up. My neck’s tightening up and I’ll need to rest up more. See you about, Jackson!

Lew smiles and waves as he puts a spring in his step.

L. Jackson: Eyyyy stay breezy brudda! Don’t be afraid ta come to me wheneva ya need a word o’ encouragement!

Jackson says as Lew Smith leaves the scene and it fades out.

We return to the packed Orlando arena, where the fans are really into the show so far.  A few banners are waved in the crowd, including I Laid MVC, My name's James and Mikey Sucks. Ringside at the announce table, Dick Fury is sitting back with a smile on his face whilst Jennifer Williams leans forward, looking into the camera.

Williams: Good show so far tonight as we take another big step towards Ring King.

Fury: Dick loves when it's big.

Williams: Still to come we have a huge grudge match between Crimson Lord and Second Coming.

Fury: Crimson looks mad Jennifer.  Dick wonders how 2C will cope when the red mist rises.  

Williams: And in our main event, in an unprecedented second world title defence in as many weeks, La Flama Blanca goes against MVC.

Fury: Fighting champ Jennifer!

Williams: Well, I'm not sure about that after the match with Lew Smith, let's hope there isn't a repeat tonight! But up next is a big match and first ever contest between the up and coming Kendrix and Chris Hopper!

Before Fury can retort with something Witty about up and coming, the lights go out in the arena as the opening lead up to Let 'em come by Scroobius Pip blares out over the PA System. Lights flash black and white as the camera pans the centre of the stage by the ramp, we immediately see Kendrix appear at the top center of the stage, his back facing the ring. Wearing a white England Football Jersey with 'JFK' and '#Bruv' emblazoned in red on it, a Union Jack Hackett Scarf and his trademark JFK black and green ring tights with green boots. As the track's marching style drumming picks up pace and the line "no one likes us but we don't care hits", he rotates his neck twice to stretch it before slicking his hair back with both hands. Returning his arms down back to his sides he ever so slightly turns his body over to the left. The camera zooms in up close as he tilts his head to peer over his left shoulder, sporting a smug smirk on his face.

Williams: Well here comes a man on quite a role as of late, making a name for himself in the UTA.

Fury: Dick loves Kendrix.  Dick hopes Kendrix loves Dick?

As the shot returns to the center of the stage, zoomed back out fixed on Kendrix, Red colored pyro, the colors of the English National Flag, explodes from the ramp as the chorus kicks in;

If the bad times are coming, let 'em come!

JFK puts his weight on his left foot as he spins around quickly to face the stage and begins to make his way down the ramp slowly towards the ring, looking at the fans with a disgusted look on his face.

Announcer: Hailing from London, England

Kendrix stops in front of one young fan holding a pen and paper in front of him and takes the pen. He then takes from another young fan, a large poster they've brought from home of one of there UTA heroes and rips it to pieces. He signs one of the pieces and gives it back to the original fan with a genuine smile on his face. He gets to the ring, walks up the steps, looks back at the crowd shaking his head looking disgusted again before stepping through the middle rope into the ring.

Announcer: Standing at 6 feet, 2 inches tall and weighing in at 218lbs

He climbs up onto the 2nd turnbuckle in the corner closest to the entrance ramp. Looking around at all the fans shaking his head with a disapproving look on his face he looks down at the English Crest on the left side of his shirt.

Announcer: JFK...KENDRIX!

If the bad times are coming, let 'em come!

Kendrix raises his head up proudly he beats his right fist on the crest twice before opening his arms out wide while shouting out words that can't be repeated on TV while making a "wanker" sign with his fist and pointing at the fans with the other hand.

Williams: I still cannot believe he gets away with that gesture on television.  But no matter what you think of Kendrix, you have to respect what he does in the ring!

He takes his shirt and scarf off and looks like he is ready to chuck them into the crowd. Instead he chuckles to himself and just leaves them in the corner of the ring. He jumps down, turning round in one motion and walks to the center of the ring, rotating and stretching his neck. Arriving dead in the center of the ring he hops from toe to toe, ready to face his opponent.

Williams: Coming off the back of a huge win against a UTA hall of famer, Kendrix has secured himself a spot at the Ring King Pay Per View Chamber match.  The question is, can he now add Chris Hopper to his impressive list of conquests?

Fury: The answer Jennifer is yes.  Dick has faith that Kendrix will snuff out Hopper tonight!

As Kendrix stretches on the ropes, the crowd goes nuts suddenly as the loud voice of Brian Johnson cut through the crowd noise as he screamed, beginning the hard-rocking riffs of AC/DC's TNT.

As the pyro explodes, the figure of "Too Cool" Chris Hopper steps out from behind the curtain. Hopper is wearing his blue wrestling tights, black boots, complete with sunglasses and the crowd gives him a loud reception.

Williams: And here comes a true legend of the sport!

Fury: Did you say legend Jennifer? Dick thinks Hopper is overrated.  

He walks down to the ring, reaching out to slap hands with the fans on each side of the barricade. Chris even stops and allows one lucky female fan to take a selfie with him.

Announcer: Hailing from Paoli, Indiana

He reaches the ringside area and slides under the bottom rope and enters the ring.

Announcer: Standing at six feet-eight inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred, eighty-eight pounds...

Hopper bends down and flexes for the crowd as they cheer him yet again. He jumps back to his feet and begins climbing up the first corner and raising his arms to the crowd. He works every side of the arena and the fans are really rewarding his showmanship.

Announcer: Here is the King of Cool, the Count of Monte Fisto...."TOO COOL" CHRIS HOPPER!!!

Hopper just continues nodding at his fans, who are already chanting his name over and over.

Williams: There's no question that Hopper was screwed out of his Ring King place two weeks ago by Dynasty, but perhaps getting a shot at the Chamber Match or Ace in the Hole when Mr Wingate decides them is on the cards?

Hopper grabs the top rope and bends down and stretches as the music fades out. Now he is standing in the corner and ready for the opening bell.

Williams: He's already seen as a lockeroom leader and being a captain for the draft after Ring King would be a natural fit for the King of Cool!

Fury: More like the king of drool! Dick believes Hopper has outlived his usefulness and Kendrix needs to show him up tonight!

In the ring, Kendrix is limbering up, the much younger superstar quick on his feet as he hops between left and right feet, while Hopper closes his palm around his right fist and stretches his back.  Chris comes forward and exchanges a word or two with the referee as Kendrix looks on with a smirk.  The King of Cool walks slowly to the middle of the ring to where JFK is standing and leans down, saying something to the smaller man.  Kendrix simply laughs and backs off, folding his arms and shaking his head.  

Williams: It looks like Kendrix has impressed Chris Hopper recently, but doesn't want to hear the praise of the multi time world champion.  

Fury: Who wants to get patronised Jennifer?

Hopper extends his hand, palm open and nods down at it and to Kendrix, who looks left at the fans then right.  The fans in Orlando pop and start to goad Kendrix to take the hand.  JFK steps forward, slowly reaching his hand outwards and a little more...until he backs up with a jump, flings his right arm under his left and launches it upwards in a derogatory sign, his left hand gripping the right bicep.  

Fury: That gesture is called the Bras d'honneur Jennifer! It means f...

Williams: I think our viewers know what it means Dick.  

The fans boo loudly as Hopper's hand drops to his side, shaking his head slowly at the disrespect.  Kendrix, a wide grin on his face turns to face the fans and repeats the gesture once, then twice to another section before making the wanker sign with his open fist and pointing out at the audience, who rise in their volume, shouting insults down at Kendrix and booing en mass.

Williams: A complete lack of class shown here by the young Englishman!

Fury: This is brilliant!

Kendrix finally turns back to face Hopper, satisfied with the reaction and rubs his hands together, coming forward, shouting at Hopper "you ready or what old geezer?"

Chris steps to the center of the ring, where the ref mentions a couple of quick ground rules, before calling for the bell.  

Williams: And this one's off! Look at the size difference between these two men!

Hopper immediately lunges in to lock up with Kendrix, who pushes with all his strength, only for the big man to shove him to the mat with authority.  JFK scrambles backwards a bit to the turnbuckle, looking slightly shocked at the strength of his opponent.  He lifts himself slowly on the corner ropes.

Fury: Dick thinks Kendrix needs a different tactic!

Williams: Back on his feet, JFK is coming forward again.  

Once more, the two lock up and Hopper this time uses his strength and leverage to force Kendrix back into the corner.  Hopper raises his arms into the air as the ref calls for the break and slowly backs off.  

Williams: Cheap shot by Kendrix! He just took a swipe at Hopper there.

Indeed, a right fist from JFK finds its mark and Hopper rubs his jaw, before lunging forward in anger.  Kendrix holds onto the top rope tightly though, turning his back to the big man and the ref gets between the two, stopping Hopper's assault.  

Williams: Cheap tricks by the Londoner there.  

Hopper backs off, shifting his jaw and patting his bicep as if ready to lock up again.  Kendrix comes out of the corner cocky and confident, spreading his arms out, showing his chest and shouting audibly "And What?!"

The fans boo once more as JFK laughs to himself and points at Hopper mouthing "look at you bruv!"

Williams: What is Kendrix doing? He needs to concentrate on the match!

Fury: Dick knows exactly what he's doing...Kendrix is getting under Hopper's skin and looking at his face, it's working!

Chris Hopper steps forward quickly, taking a swing with his right hand.  Kendrix ducks and backs away laughing "too slow boss!" Hopper turns back and swings his left arm in a knife edge chop, but once more JFK dodges it and circles the ring, throwing fists out as he does, mimicking boxing footwork.  "Float like a butterfly innit old man?"

Williams: This isn't going to end well...

Hopper once more goes for a right fist, but Kendrix skips past it and raises his arms at the crowd, leaning on the ropes, back to the King of Cool.  Hopper though, doesn't miss a beat and grabs Kendrix by his waist, hoisting his arms up and drilling him to the mat with a huge Full Nelson Suplex!

Fury: Hopper got him!

Williams: I told you Dick...and he's down slowly for the cover.  One...two...

Kendrix kicks out, rolling to the side, holding his neck and gripping the bottom rope with his arms, motioning for the referee to make Hopper back off, which he does.  Hopper takes a few steps back, hands clasped together as he looks down at Kendrix on the mat, who slowly gets back to one knee, shaking off the proverbial cobwebs and returning to a standing position.  He circles to the corner, bent forward, the show boating gone.  

Williams: Kendrix looking all business now, I think Hopper beat some sense into him!

JFK comes forward, tapping his left bicep with his right hand as if to motion for a lock up.  As Hopper comes forward, Kendrix Ducks his outstretched arms and wraps his own around the King of Cool's waist.  He tightens the grip, before levelling two quick right forearms into the ribs of Hopper.  Kendrix backs off and motions for Hooper to come at him again.  

This time, JFK ducks again and throws a left knee into the ribs, before running to the ropes and returning with a hard boot beneath the arm of Hopper.  JFK lifts Hopper's arm and sends another boot to the ribs and another, which Hopper catches! Kendrix hops for a few seconds before delivering a quick enzeguri to the large man, who almost drops to a knee.  JFK runs to the ropes, off of them only to be met by a hip toss to the mat! Hopper goes for an elbow drop but Kendrix rolls out of the way, back to his feet and runs again...hip toss again!

Williams: Chris Hopper looking calm and collected as always here.  He's scouted his opponent.  

Hopper doesn't release Kendrix's arm and curls his own under it, applying force and leverage, JFK yelling out in pain and trying to roll through.  Hopper stops him with pure strength and drives his free elbow into the shoulder of Kendrix, tightening the hold and lodging his right knee into the back of JFK.  Kendrix slams his foot on the mat and twists his body, using the strength of his legs to launch himself upwards and over Hopper into a bridging pin!

One...t...kickout!

Fury: Hopper needs to be careful not to get caught! Kendrix has his number Jennifer.  

Kendrix, back to his feet drives a boot into the face of Hopper before running to the ropes as Chris gets to his feet and coming off with a cross body bl...

Fury: Get out of there Kendrix!

Too late.  Hopper catches JFK in mid air and throws him back over his head in an impressive and perfect looking fall away slam! Kendrix hits the mat, rolling with the momentum onto his front then onto his back as he reaches the opposing ropes.  

Williams: Impressive ring awareness by Hopper! And what power he's shown there.  

JFK takes the opportunity to roll out of the ring, onto the outside, where he props himself up with his arm against the ring apron.  Chris Hopper, looking somewhat pleased, raises his arm to the fans, who pop for "Too Cool" as he turns slowly around to face them all.  After a few moments, Hopper makes his way outside, walking down the ring steps to the padded flooring and slowly towards the kneeling Kendrix.  He gets to his opponent, wrapping his hands around the smaller man's head.  Before he can do anything though, Kendrix has used Hopper's own momentum and all his strength to pull hard backwards, falling onto his back and shoving Hopper viciously onto the steel steps, knee first!

One...

Williams: The ref starting the count and Hopper is down! That looked painful Dick.  

Fury: That's what happens when you've got an ego the size of Jupiter, you take your eye off the ball.  Dick thinks Hopper got what he deserved.  

Kendrix is back to his feet, using the ropes to pull himself to a vertical base.  

Two...

He walks over to Hopper, still holding his back a little, before firing an aggressive boot into Hopper's side, and another.  

Three...

Kendrix lifts the leg of Hopper, before slamming it down against the outside.  He repeats the move and then comes down with a two footed stomp onto Chris' knee.  

Four...

Kendrix lifts Hopper's leg and drags him over towards the steps again.  JFK takes the leg and with all his strength cracks it against the steel once...twice!

Williams: I think Kendrix has found a weakness!

He places Hopper's leg on the top of the steps, the big man on his back, eyes closed and mouth open betraying pain.  

Five...

JFK backs up a few steps, looking at the crowd and putting his middle finger up at a small boy with a Chris Hopper t-shirt before charging forward with!

Fury: Woah! Did you hear that crack?

Williams: Oh my god! Kendrix just drop kicked the knee right into the steel!

Hopper is on the ground rolling back and forth clutching at his knee, the pain audible.  

Six...

JFK walks around the larger man, getting down onto one knee and slapping Hopper across the face.  "Not so big are you now maaaate?"

He repeats the slap before getting to his feet and dropping his own knee down mercilessly onto Hopper's.

Seven...

Hearing the count of seven, Kendrix decides it's time to take Hopper into the ring.  He lifts the King Of Cool upwards, using both arms to steady Hopper and pushes him against the apron.  Kendrix lifts one leg of Hopper, trying to get it onto the apron and under, but Hopper fires a right fist and a second into Kendrix's head, reeling him backwards.  JFK responds with a boot to the mid section and a right of his own, that Hopper blocks!

William: Huge right hand from Hopper and Kendrix is down on the ground!

Fury: Get up! Get up!

Chris limps forward as Kendrix immediately gets to his feet only to be downed by another huge fist.  He gets up again...

Eight...

And down again with the same fist.  Kendrix to his feet, groggy, moving backwards as Hopper fights through the pain to run with a clothesline.  

Williams: Kendrix Ducks!

Fury: Chop Block! The big man is down again Jennifer.  

Indeed, Hopper is on his knees, holding his leg.

Nine...

Kendrix hears the count and rolls into the ring, before rolling back out.  The referee shouts down at him and Kendrix holds his head in despair and a bit of shock.  

Williams: I think it completely skipped Kendrix's head that he could have just won this one via count out!

Fury: No he...he meant to Jennifer! Dick knows it was intentional!

Williams: Whilst JFK is doing well here in the UTA, there's still a few basics he needs to learn.  

A few fans laugh and point at Kendrix, who walks up to them, shouting in their faces the he knew what he was doing.  The friends laugh more and one of them waves the wanker sign in front of JFK, who takes exception and grabs his drink.  Kendrix takes off the top of the drink and pours it out in front of the fan, causing the section around them to boo madly.  JFK then slaps a box of popcorn out of another fan's hand and into the crowd, before taking the jacket of a third off of his shoulder and holding it up.  

Williams: I'm not sure this is what we mean by fan interaction.  Kendrix may be close to crossing a line here.  

JFK steps back, holding the jacket up to the fan, just out of reach who tries to grab it using the barricade.  Kendrix laughs and waves the jacket at the rest of the fans, more of whom are booing.  He puts the jacket on, slipping his arms into it as now the whole stadium is booing!

Williams: This is totally uncalled for Dick.

Kendrix steps away from the fan and into the ring, looking down at them and mock hugging the jacket, whilst shouting out at the fans that this is what they deserve and it's his now.  He takes off the jacket and drops it onto the mat before dropping an elbow onto the leather and a second! He then rubs his boot on the leather and spits down on it, before kicking it out of the ring, raising his arms into the air.  

Fury: He's just showing the fans his opinion on the latest fashion crazes.  He's helping them Jennifer.

Williams: Yeah right, he's helping them.  

The ref goes outside, shaking his head down at Kendrix who shouts "what"! The ref picks up and dusts off the jacket before handing it back to the fan, who shouts abuse up, the whole stadium booing at Kendrix in the ring.  The boos suddenly turn to cheers and JFK lifts his arms into the air, nodding and soaking in the applause.

Fury: They're not cheering for you Jesse! Turn around! Quick!

He does, too late

Williams: Big boot! Kendrix is down! Kendrix is down!

After the impact, the large frame of Chris Hopper falls awkwardly, holding his knee.  He rolls onto his front and rises once more to his feet, limping over to Kendrix and lifting him by his hair.  Hopper whips Kendrix to the ropes and on the return, lifts him into the air, onto his shoulder and hard down onto the mat with a running powerslam! Once again, Chris loses valuable moments tending to his knee before rolling into the cover.  

One...two...kickout!

Hopper gets back to his feet, taking Kendrix with him and into the corner as he delivers a sequence of rights, the noise in the crowd getting louder as they sense the King of Cool is firing up! European Uppercut! Then a second!

Williams: JFK is reeling!

Kendrix stumbles out of the corner, right into the waiting embrace of Chris Hopper who launches him backwards in a huge belly to belly suplex, immediately falling to one knee, pausing for a moment and rising back up.  He walks back over to JFK, lifting him to his feet and motioning to the crowd it's all over! Hopper kicks Kendrix in the gut and places his head between his legs.  

Williams: He looks determined to put JFK away Dick! Up onto his shoulders now, he's going for a powerbomb!

As Hopper goes forward, his right leg gives way, dropping to one knee.  Kendrix drops out of the elevated position to his feet, jumps into the air with one leg and kicks Hopper aggressively across the face!

Fury: Yes! Modified shining wizard! He's got him Jennifer!

Hopper reels backwards, his knelt position keeping him from falling backwards and as he comes forward, JFK knees him in the face, wraps his arm around the King of Cool's neck and drops back into a vicious DDT! The crowd shouts out in horror as Hopper's body lays prone on the mat.  Kendrix immediately drops down, wrapping his legs around Hopper's arm and reaching for his face.  

Williams: He's got it locked in Dick! Kendrix Cross! Kendrix Cross!

JFK yanks back on the hold, in the middle of the ring as the ref immediately drops down to check on Hopper, who is back awake and shouting at the pain.  He uses his large, powerful free arm to drag himself against the mat towards the ropes.  Kendrix applies more pressure as

Hopper shouts no! Every time the ref asks for his submission.  

Williams: It's common knowledge that Chris Hopper has had some horrific injuries to his neck! Kendrix is playing on that here.

Hopper keeps clawing forward and finally reaches the ropes.  The ref calls for the break, but Kendrix just releases the arm and sits on Hopper's back, yanking hard at his head, pulling it back and stretching the big man's neck before winking at Jennifer Williams and more thing "thanks girl" who is just outside the ring.  

Fury: Haha I think he heard you Jennifer! You just gave JFK a strategy! Dick loves you.  

Williams: What a dick!

Fury: What?

Kendrix continues to apply pressure as the ref counts to four...finally releasing the hold.  Hopper drops down a crumpled heap on the mat, holding the ropes with his arms as JFK backs off, arms in the air and a large grin on his face.  The ref checks on Hopper but backs away just in time as Kendrix comes flying in with a huge Dropkick to the head of Hopper, snapping his neck back against the bottom rope and slipping out of the ring himself.  JFK, back on his feet outside, immediately doesn't miss a beat and wraps his hands around Hopper's head pulling it backwards against the bottom rope.  The ref slides out of the ring and jumps between Kendrix and Hopper, forcing him to split the hold and getting into his face.  

Williams: The ref taking exception to Kendrix's tactics here!

Fury: You mean your tactics Jennifer?

Williams: No, I...

Kendrix backs off before pushing the ref out of the way and jumping with another Dropkick to the lower back of Hopper.  The ref again gets in his face, shouting he will DQ JFK if he continues.  We hear Kendrix retort.  

"You gonna DQ me yeah bruv? I'll give you something to DQ!"

Kendrix walks purposefully over to the ringside area, pushing a stage hand off his chair and folding it up.  He slides it into the ring, slipping in himself and getting to his feet.  Kendrix drags the chair to the middle of the ring and then moves over to Hopper.  He lifts the big man to his feet and pulls him over to the chair.  JFK pulls his thumb across his neck with a sick grin on his face.   

Williams: I don't think Kendrix cares about winning or losing here! I'm sorry Chris!

He puts Hopper's head between his legs and using all his strength lifts Chris up, holding him in place.  

Fury: This is amazing! Do it Kendrix! Break his neck! Break his neck with a piledriver!

Williams: No Jesse! Don't do it!

Hopper falls back to his feet, the weight too much for JFK.  He tries again, lifting the King of Cool off the ground as the crowd boos incessantly, the volume louder than all night so far!

Once again, Hopper falls backwards.  Jesse tries a third time, looking determined, clenching his teeth as he lifts and gets Hopper into position, his huge legs pointing to the side as Kendrix wraps them up into a package.  The ref runs over, grabbing at Jesse's arm, who shoves the official away.  Hopper manages to get back to his feet suddenly and out of the hold.

Williams: ICEBREAKER! Icebreaker onto the chair!!

The crowd goes absolutely nuts! The cheers ring out as both men go limp and out cold.  The referee gets back to his feet and claims he didn't see the move onto the chair, looking down at both men and starting the countdown!

One...

Two...

Three...

Williams: Cover him Chris!

Four...

Five...

Hopper stirs and crawls slowly to Kendrix, flailing an arm over his prone body.  

One...two...thre...no!

Kendrix kicks out at the last moment! Hopper goes for the cover again this time hooking the leg.  

Williams: He's got him! He's got...no!

Once again Kendrix kicks out and rolls a few times over to try and get away from the large man.  Hopper shakes his head on all fours, slamming his fist into the mat and looking up at the referee for answers, who just backs away and starts the count.  The King of Cool gets labouringly to his feet and walks over to Kendrix, who is on his belly, holding his jaw.  Hopper takes JFK's ankle and pulls him out to the middle of the ring, before dropping an elbow to his back.  Hopper gets back up and repeats the move, this time staying in position and pressing his knee into the lower back of Kendrix, applying pressure with his huge hands to the jaw and legs of the smaller man.  

Williams: Innovative submission by Hopper.  We sometimes forget how technically excellent the King of Cool can be because of his size and presence.  

Fury: And cos of that damned Icebreaker!

Kendrix yells out in pain, struggling against Hopper's mass, who cinches the move in tighter.  He applies further pressure, the crowd rising in anticipation of a potential tap out.  Chris, buoyed by the noise, has an intense look on his face, gripping at the appendages harder, pressing his worn knee further against the lower spine.  The ref drops to one knee but Kendrix is shaking his head.  Hopper lifts backwards, pulling Kendrix with him and off the mat.  Using his knee to lift JFK off the ground, Hopper pulls at his thigh and jaw in opposite directions to increase the pressure on the Essex wrestler's back, who looks in a hugely uncomfortable position.  

Williams: The crowd are really into this.  He might tap Dick! Look at his face!

Fury: Lies! He's smiling!

JFK is definitely not smiling as the ref drops down, asking if he wants to tap again.  Kendrix's face is contorted in pain, as the crowd are louder still, behind Chris Hopper.  JFK, eyes closed, yells out before opening his eyes, looking on the verge of passing out.  He beckons the ref closer.  Kendrix shouts a groan of pain, and asks the ref to come closer still, almost out.  The ref, inches from JFK asks again if he wants to give up.   Kendrix raises his hand, bringing it down but before it hits his thigh he makes an "O" shape with his fingers and moves them up and down repeatedly.  

Fury: Wanker sign! Look Jennifer! Wanker!

Kendrix leans back and like a scene out of Braveheart bellows out in full volume and pain "Waaaaannnkkkeeeeeerrr!!" Before grabbing the referee's shirt with his free hand and pulling him over him and straight into Hopper, breaking the hold!

Fury: What fortitude! What bravery Jennifer! What...I have no words for the courage this man is showing!

Williams: What just...did he scream Wanker? He...that was oddly impressive and I'm not offended.

Kendrix drops to his side, crawling instantly towards the ropes.  Hopper shoves the ref off of him, who is on his knees and looking confused.  Chris limply runs over to Kendrix, who turns to face the big man, launching his right leg out, pulling down on the top rope from his position laying on his back and with his foot launches Hopper viciously over the top and to the outside! Hopper connects with the ring apron and onto the ground, holding his side, as Kendrix looks outside from his laid out position, struggling to pull himself up.  

Williams: Wow, Kendrix using Hopper's own momentum and the ring against him!

On the outside, Chris rolls onto his side, one hand on his neck, the other on the steel railings as he tries to lift himself up.  Kendrix, smelling blood, gets to his knees and uses the ropes to lift himself up.  The crowd are chanting for both men suddenly as they don't want this match to end! JFK uses the ropes to walk across the ring, looking groggy and holding his back with one hand.  He gets to the turnbuckle and places a foot on the bottom rope, then on the second and uses his strength to pull himself upwards.  

Fury: He's going up top! Dick is afraid that...OH MY GOD!!

In a moment, Kendrix flies off the top rope with a modified Senton and crashes into Hopper who was resting his back against the steel barricade.  The metal flies inwards and the crowd scatters, a drink flies off and the piece of steel fencing beside it comes loose, falling awkwardly on its side beneath the right leg of Chris Hopper.  Silence grips the crowd for a moment, the gasp damning in its quiet...the scene of broken flesh, Kendrix laying in an unnatural heap on top of Hopper, who's head is wedged up awkwardly against the seat of a steel chair.  

"Holy Shit! Holy Shit!" Suddenly erupts from nearby and the entire arena explodes in unison.  

Williams: I can't...Kendrix just flew Dick!

Fury: That was awesome! Dick never thought he'd see JFK flying Air Force one again, and he crashed hard!

The ref, having paused in shock for a few moments, starts the count.  

One...

Two...

Three...

No movement.  

Fury: They're dead Jennifer! JFK is dead! Who shot...

Williams: Stop it!

Four...

Five...

Six...

Kendrix rolls off of Hopper, clutching at his back and rolling towards the ring.  Chris Hopper's head falls of the steel chair and onto the ground, as he turns onto his side.  

Seven...

JFK is to his knees and using his arms on the ring apron to prop himself up.  He gets to one foot, but then crumples down again to his knees.  

Eight...

Kendrix tries again, this time launching himself up and rolling under the bottom rope, face down on the mat, gasping for breath.  Hopper is rising to one knee.  He looks destroyed.  

Nine...

Chris Hopper suddenly comes to and looks to his left, right and at the ring as the ref is holding the ten count a moment.  With a roar, Hopper gets to his feet and lunges forward, springing under the top rope and into the ring.  

Williams: How the hell can he stand! Let alone move?

In the ring, Kendrix looks at Hopper, both men on the floor.  He rolls onto his back, looking at the lights and closing his eyes in pain, slamming his right hand on the mat in anger and rage.  Hopper is out, the last burst of energy having been exerted to get into the ring.  JFK starts the arduous crawl towards the larger opponent, piece by piece getting closer.  The ref gets to four on the count by the time Kendrix is at his foe.  He lifts up and drops down onto Hopper's back, lifting his left arm and placing it between his legs.  Kendrix then wraps his fingers together against the face of Hopper and pulls violently back.  

Fury: It's over! Kendrix cross!

Hopper, out cold doesn't respond, the ref rushing to his knees to check on the big man.  He checks Chris' eyes and then his face, as Kendrix yanks harder, lifting his body off the mat to apply more pressure.  The ref lifts Hopper's hand, it falls to the mat.  Again, the same.  A third time..

Williams: No way! Hopper's hand! Look...

Chris' hand doesn't touch the mat, instead clenching his fist and pressing it hard into the canvas, lifting his body upwards.  He rolls backwards, turning Kendrix over and into a pin attempt!

One...two...no!

Back over, Kendrix applying the hold.  Once more, Hopper uses his strength to roll onto his side, pinning Kendrix.  

One...two...thre.no!

Kendrix rolls forward, back into the hold, the crowd going nuts with a "Let's go Kendrix, Lets go!" chant betraying the British indie wrestling members of the audience.  This is quickly countered with "Hopper! Hopper! Hopper!" as the former World Champion uses his power once again, his face redder than beetroot and up onto a knee.  He lifts further, onto both knees and then to one foot.  In a swift motion, Hopper lifts up, Kendrix holding onto his neck for dear life, the King of Cool's arm between JFK's legs using shear strength to wrap around one and lift him into the air, twisting around JFK, lifting his left arm up and wrapping it around Kendrix's head and dropping hard.  

Williams: Icebre...no!

In a brilliant move, Kendrix uses the momentum to throw his legs down, curl his knees up and arch his body, escaping out of the hold and ensuring that Hopper lands the back of his head first into the upturned knees of the smaller man!

Fury: What a counter! What a damn counter!

Hopper rolls onto his front, holding the back of his head and yells in agony, JFK scrambling back and clearly shaken and somewhat relieved...

Williams: I don't think even Kendrix knows what he just did!

Fury: Dick doesn't care! Dick loved it!

The King of Cool crawls towards the ropes, his aging body bruised and reddened, as Kendrix slumps up to his feet in the corner, putting both his arms over the top ropes, leaning back in a state of pain and exhaustion.  He sees Hopper, who lifts himself to one knee using the ropes and steadies himself.  Kendrix looks at the crowd and shouts it's over! He slaps his knee once and again, a look of determined anger in his face.  As Hopper finally stands, turning round Kendrix charges forward, and...at the last moment the huge boot of Chris Hopper fires up and forward, sending JFK inside out and face down onto the mat! Hopper immediately falls to one knee again, shaking his head and pressing his fist into the canvas.  

Williams: How are these two still going?

Kendrix, on his front stirs, but looks out of it, Hopper taking a few moments to catch his breath.  He stands slowly to his feet and shakes the cobwebs off, slapping the side of his head with the palm of his hand.  He walks groggily over to the downed body of Kendrix, lifting him up by his head and placing him under his arm.  Lifting the tights of JFK, Chris holds Kendrix in the air a few moments, before dropping hard down with a suplex! He drops down to the cover...

One...two...kickout!

Hopper once again, looking exhausted lays on the mat, shouting at himself to get up.  He slams the mat with his palm and rises.  The large man gets to his feet slowly and sits down onto Kendrix's back.  He uses his large mammoth hands to take the left leg of JFK and pull backwards, the huge mass crushing down against Kendrix's spine.   

Williams: Single leg Boston Crab here Dick! Kendrix has no where to go.  No way he can get to the ropes with Hopper on his back!

Kendrix flails in the hold, realising exactly what Williams just said.  He curls his body to the side with all his strength and grabs at the right leg of Hopper, slamming hammer fists into the side.  Hopper grimaces, before using his weight to lay Kendrix flat again, yanking hard on the move.  Kendrix again turns onto his side, reaching at the right leg.  He wraps his right arm around it, curling further, the pain on his lower back excruciating.  Using all his leg strength, Kendrix breaks Hopper's hands' hold on his leg and quickly yanks back at Chris' leg making him fall forward to the mat.  

Williams: Kendrix has locked Hopper's leg!

Fury: Knee bar!

Hopper shouts in agony, and turns away, using his free leg to fire into the face of Kendrix who backs off groggily.  Kendrix runs forward after a moment and straight into a devastating Spine Buster by the King of Cool, who drops onto his back immediately after the move, breathing hard!

Fury: These two are spent Jennifer!

Williams: Hopper has nothing to lose Dick.  He wants the win, wants the momentum!

Fury: He needs this!

Hopper is slow to his knees and lifts Kendrix with him.  Chris places his arm around Kendrix' chest, the young man barely able to stand.  Hopper lifts him high into the air...

Williams: Surely! The Powerload! Kendrix can't....kickout!

Somehow, Kendrix gets his shoulder up, immediately turning onto his side, eyes closed and looking out.  Hopper sits up, a broken man, his hands up and against his face.  

Fury: What does he need to do Jennifer?

Once more, Chris rises to his feet.  He looks down at JFK and stalks...bent forward, the crowd rises in noise, in volume...they know what's coming! Kendrix stirs.  

Fury: Get out of the ring Kendrix! Get out of the ring!

Hopper has one hand on the canvas as he's bent forward, eyes focused, completely on JFK who gets to one knee.  He lifts to a standing position and falls back to a knee.  He tries again and turns...Hopper immediately springs up, wrapping his arm around Kendrix's head for a finisher, Kendrix pushes him off in one last show of strength.  He goes for a clothesline, Hopper dodges.  Kendrix comes off the ropes, returns...ICEBREAKER!!!

Williams: It's over! It's over!

Hopper covers!!

Fury: Noooo!!

One...two...crowd going wiiiild!

The lights cut out completely and the ring comes into darkness! Boos ring out from the crowd, no bell sounds.  Phones and cameras go off with their flash to illuminate parts of the audience, but nothing else.  

Williams: What the hell? Hopper won? What...

Fury: It's a blackout Jennifer, who knows if the referee's hand hit the mat?

Still darkness, the boos rise...rise further.  Boos turn to anger.  A you suck YOU SUCK YOU SUCK CHANT opens up at no one in particular and is replaced by a huge chorus of boos!

A single spotlight shines on the stage, where the figure of Claude Baptiste Ranier is seen walking down the ramp, steel pipe in hand.  The spotlight follows him, a sickening smile across his face.  Getting to the ring, a light shines down on Hopper, who looks around him in expectation, then explodes to the ropes, shouting over at CBR who drops down to the outside.

Fury: These two have such history here in UTA! Get him CBR!

The boos continue, a great match seemingly ruined.  Slowly, the figure of CBR lifts his hands up and out, into a shrug.  A second spotlight shines behind the ring as Claude points behind Hopper.  Chris turns, seeing...

Fury: The champ! The champ! It's La Flama Blanca here to show up Chris Hopper!

LFB jumps onto the ring apron, the crowd going nuts with angry boos.  He shakes his head at Hopper who runs forward with a forearm before LFB drops down to the outside! Slowly...he lifts his hands, up to his mask and piece by piece inches it up.  

Williams: What? He can't!

Further, revealing a white jaw, further...

Fury: Oh my gawd! He's American!

Williams: No he's...Mikey??

The smiling, gleaming face of Mikey Unlikely beams up at Hopper, shaking his head and wagging his finger.  The lights come back on and Kendrix is up! The ref is outside of the ring, shouting his protestations at Mikey Unlikely, who grips his referee shirt.  

CRACK!

The steel chair in the hands of Kendrix comes down hard against the back of Chris Hopper's head, dropping him to one knee.  JFK lifts the steel up, a sadistic look on his face and drives it down hard again against the back of Hopper's head, the big man laid out on his front out cold.  Kendrix drops, tying up Hopper's arm and wrapping his own hands around Hopper's face.  

Williams: Not like this!

Fury: You've got him Jesse! Kendrix cross!

Mikey points into the ring as he backs off from the ref, who turns around and slides under the ropes, checking on Hopper.  Arm up once...falls to the mat.  Twice...drops down.  Third time...

Williams: His arm's up!

Fury: What?!

Hopper's arm is up and he raises to one knee under Kendrix.  The large man lets out a roar, using raw power to lift further, Kendrix's arm releasing from his head and lifting into the air and straight down with a huge Belly to Back Suplex! Hopper is up to his feet again but groggily stumbles back into the corner.  

Fury: Here comes CBR! Get him!

Ranier runs into the ring and is met by a vicious right from Hopper, followed by a huge boot! The Canadian Star rolls out of the ring in pain as Kendrix is back to his feet and charges at the King of Cool.  Hopper though, catches him into a huge powerslam!

Williams: He's back! Hopper's on fire here Dick!

Hopper lifts JFK to his feet and whips him to the ropes, before falling to one knee.  As Kemdrix returns though, "Too Cool" launches forward, arms up...

Williams: Icebreaker!

He hooks the leg hurriedly, knowing this is his chance.  

One...two...THREE!

Williams: He did it! Hopper did it!

Fury: No!

Hopper falls onto his back, exhausted from the march, eyes closed as the ref drops to check on him.  

Announcer: Here is your winner...by pinfall...CHRISS....HOOOOOPPPEEEERRRR!!

The fans erupt in cheers as TNT hits the PA system! Hopper lifts his head into a seated position, looking at the carnage in the ring and Mikey holding his head in shock outside of it.  The fans chant for Hopper, who looks on in bewilderment, slowly to his feet.  

Williams: What's he...no!

The cheers turn to sudden boos though and the music stops abruptly as CBR is in the ring and brings the big man down with a chop block! Mikey Unlikely enters the ring and checks on Kendrix, who groggily gets to one knee.  CBR grabs the chair inside the ring and brings it down hard against Hopper's knee, who rolls in pain.  The bell rings again, the ref trying to get in front of Claude, who drops the chair with a sick smile.  The boos erupt again though as Kendrix drops down and places Hopper in the Kendrix Cross!

Williams: This is sick! Stop it! Get some help out here!

The bell rings again, Kendrix cinching the hold in tighter.  A ref slides under the ropes, but is met with a huge right hand from Unlikely as pieces of trash start to get thrown at the ring.  Hopper looks out.

Fury: Look, atop the stage!

The fans boo again as La Flama Blanca appears, in ring gear, the World Title over his shoulder, slowly clapping his hands together.  Security suddenly flanks him and runs around the World Champ, charging the ring.  They get in and Kendrix finally breaks the hold, looking down at Hopper.  The security team drags the King of Cool from the ring, who holds his neck, as Mikey Unlikely, and CBR lift Kendrix to his feet, each holding one arm of JFK's aloft, LFB clapping at the entrance way.  

Fury: Look at that Jennifer! Dick is looking at perfection in the ring! No, not that Perfection...THAT perfection.  

Williams: Wrong...just wrong!

"Short Change Hero" hits as the three men stand proudly, CBR pointing at Kemdrix with his free hand and shouting that he's the future of the UTA.  The fans continue to boo.  

On the outside, Hopper pushes security away and gets up, walking up the ramp, holding his neck.  He shares a stare down with LFB, thinking better of attacking the champ in his condition and walks to the back.  

Williams: A statement made by Hopper tonight!

Fury: A statement made by Dynasty tonight.  

The scene fades as LFB looks back at the ring, raising his World Title into the air.  


Brought to You By


We Are Dynasty

The scene opens with the camera looking at a closed wooden door in the back. Sounds can be heard along with muffled music through the material.

The door, slightly ajar, moves as the cameraman's hand gently pushes it forward, revealing the figures of Mikey Unlikely and a masked La Flama Blanca inside, along with Sean Jackson seated in the corner quietly.  Marshall Owens stands in the middle of the room with a bottle of 1997 Bollinger R.D. and a glass, pouring the liquid at an angle against the flute and tilting it upwards.

Mikey runs a towel across his neck, drying the sweat, a grin across his face as Marshall is laughing about something, most likely a witty remark made just out of earshot.  The camera pauses, looking around the room before being violently shoved forward, almost dropping down.  The lens spins round, to see the large frame of Claude Baptiste Ranier wearing a red and black Dynasty shirt, his arm outstretched from the push and Kendrix behind him in a t-shirt and his ring gear, looking exhausted, but pleased.

Owens: Mr Kendrix, sir! Please.

Marshall beckons with his fingers as Claude closes the door behind them, leaning his body against it and shaking his head slowly at the camera...most likely a gesture not to try an escape like he might be planning.  Kendrix smiles wide and walks to the middle of the room with what can only be called a swagger.

Kendrix: Yes, yes Marshall! You alright bruv?

Owens bows his head a little, before standing back upright and handing the glass to JFK.  He repeats the feat, passing a glass to LFB, who keeps his mask on, looks down at the drink and passes it to the side and to Mikey.

Jackson sits back on his chair, ignoring a lot of the fracas, glancing at La Flama Blanca then back at Marshall.  The drinks are slowly passed around as pleasantries are shared.  CBR moves off of the door and takes a flute, Jackson taking his on his lap as he sits quietly.

Marshall raises his glass and looks around the room.

Owens: To our newest member!

A selection of cheers are heard as glasses raise and generous gulps are taken down.

Kendrix: Lads, Lads, please!

Kendrix holds the palm of his hand out in front of him in a calming fashion, gesturing for a moment;

Kendrix: Listen, yeah?! Everyone knows that I’m not the biggest talker. JFK isn’t one to big himself up to every man and his dog out there. He’s renowned as a humble man. But, if I may, I’d like to say a few words;

Kendrix looks out at every member of Dynasty before him;

Kendrix: I look around this room and I see nothing but the very BEST...that this company, hell, this industry...has to offer. Men of class, respect and honour. Champions, each and every one of you.

Ranier nods at the words as JFK looks around the room, taking another drink.

Kendrix: And it fills me with pride...JFK is proud and humbled that Dynasty have seen the way forward. That Dynasty have invested their time in the FUTURE of this business, while those sat upstairs, the bellends in the back and the...UNGRATEFULS...wouldn’t know the future if it came up to them and slapped them in their fat, filthy faces!

As he finishes, the camera is turned aggressively around, the face of CBR inches from it.

CBR: You see UTA? Never underestimate Dynasty! Forget what you think you know about all these insubordinate monkeys from Chicago and old pieces of trash...this is our yard.

He shakes the camera to the side, smacking it on its side causing static briefly.

CBR: Are you watching? Are you watching this moment? Did you watch last week? Lew Smith.  Chris Hopper.  Scott Stevens.  It doesn't matter who they throw at us.  Tonight La Flama Blanca makes an example of Marie Van Claudio! Tonight, is a Dynasty night.

Ranier backs off, a smirk on his face as the camera turns to see Mikey right in its face.  Unlikely grabs the lens hard and pulls it to his face. Instead of speaking though, he just smirks, pushing the camera away with his palm, the man almost falling to one knee.  La Flama Blanca offers a hand down, that the cameraman graciously accepts.  A large arm is circled around his neck and shoulder, visible only as the camera turns to see the smiling face of CBR behind him, then back to LFB.

LFB: Two weeks in a row, the UTA saw Dynasty continue to dominate and continue to shock the world. Now’s not the time to take our feet off the gas. We… are stronger than ever!

The Champion laughs as JFK springs back into view, downing the rest of his champagne, standing behind Blanca and putting his own arm around the champ.

Kendrix: UTA…you’re officially on notice! It’s all about this bad boy right here;

He dusts off LFB’s title for him with the back of his finger tips;

Kendrix:  And this guy here is the man bruv! The UTA World Championship stays with Dynasty for as long as we want it maaattteee!

LFB and JFK bump fists. The lens turns to Sean Jackson, seated, looking away.  The former World Champion looks up at the camera with a solemn, serious look.  The pause lasts for a few moments before his head turns away again, taking a slow drink from the flute.  The camera turns to face Marshall, the champagne bottle hanging down in his left hand as he holds the glass in front of him.

Owens: Gentlemen, tonight we celebrate.  Two new members and the successful defence of the UTA World Title.  And, to the future…

Ranier opens the door as Kendrix spreads his arms threateningly at the cameraman, who backs away.  Taking one last look around the room he leaves.  


These 5 Words I Say to You...

Sawyers:  I have the unfortunate displeasure to be forced to be here to interview this man..

Crimson Lord steps in from the right and Gaze from the left.  Crimson stares directly at Jamie emotionless.  Gaze snatches Jamie’s arm and forces him to move the microphone to her mouth.

Gaze:  Your adorable Jamie, you have nothing to fear I am here I doubt my beloved will do anything to put you in the hospital again.

Crimson just continues to stare a hole through Jamie, his mere towering presence just continues to make Jamie even more uncomfortable. He takes the microphone from Gaze’s mouth as she is about to say something.  He looks up at Crimson and tries to get these words out, as Gaze now stares at him coldly.

Sawyers:  You know what I have known you for fifteen years.  I have been verbally assaulted and physically assaulted.  You got something to say to The Second Coming? Then do it yourself I don’t care if Mr. Wingate fines me for not doing my job!  I have been around you far too long to know what to expect!

Sawyers drops the microphone the crowd gives him a decent pop as he walks off as Crimson watches him leave.  Gaze kneels down and picks up the microphone. While she watches him leave.  She directs her attention to the arena, shortly after Crimson does as well still emotionless.

Gaze:  Tsk,Tsk has my beloved must of struck a nerve?  Never the less, forget that peasant my beloved has FIVE little words to say to you Two-Cee.

Gaze raises the microphone to Crimson’s mouth his breathe slowly vibrates the microphone throughout the arena before breaking his silence.

Crimson:  I will make you BLEED!

Gaze drops the microphone as Crimson walks off camera and toward the ring, soon followed by Gaze.

Announcer: This next contest has a twenty minute time limit… and it is a FIRST BLOOD MATCH.

Fury: Dick’s been waiting for this. The bitch needs to bleed.

Williams: Will you stop?

Fury: Never.

Announcer: INTRODUCING FIRST… from Parts Unknown…

Genghis Tron "Board up the House [Renholder Remix] plays. The arena turns a dismal red. Smoke rises from the stage. Out steps Crimson Lord. He stands at the top of the ramp looking down. He his wet navy blue hair hangs over his face. He has a dark red gothic style leather coat on. He has dark red tights with gothic symbols on the hips moving to the front of the tights. The words “BLOOD LUST” going down his right leg in red and gray letters. He also has new black and red strap boots on.

Gaze walks from the backstage to stand next to him. She has her black and blue hair hanging down to her shoulder also wet. With black eyesadow and black lipstick. She wears black open vest. Gaze also has torn red jeans with black high heel boots.

Williams: Crimson Lord looks ready for action, and Gaze is carrying… oh my lord.

Fury: She’s got an X-Act-O Knife and what looks like a switchblade! Dick loves this woman!

Williams: Crimson Lord brought up things like brass knuckles and cheese graters on Wrestleshow, but it looks like Gaze isn’t taking any chances.

Gaze stands at the top of the ramp. She looks up toward Crimson Lord. Crimson Lord looks down toward her. Gaze walks in front of him and leads him to the ring. Crimson Lord slowly turns his head to face the ring as he follows her. He slowly begins to walk down the ramp with each step smoke rises from under his feet.

Announcer: Accompanied to the ring by Gaze, the Wicked Queen...

Crimson Lord and Gaze reach the end of the entrance ramp. He stares coldly into the ring. Gaze slides in under the bottom rope, and walks to the turnbuckle and sits on the top turnbuckle. She raises her right index finger toward Crimson Lord and motions for him to come into the ring.

Announcer: Standing at seven foot and one inch and weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds...

Crimson Lord quickly grabs the top rope and steps over the top rope. He walks over toward her. She grabs the sides of his face and they kiss. Crimson slowly turns from the kiss to look toward his victim.

Announcer: “The Plague of Darkness”….CRIMSON LORD!!

The lights slowly come on.

Williams: The fans are oddly silent, they’re not sure what to make of - oh.

As Crimson Lord removes his leather jacket, his hands and wrists come into view. They are fully taped up, with broken glass stuck at all angles on his knuckles, the back of his hand, and the back of his forearms.

Fury: Dick thinks this match will be over soon.

Announcer: And his opponent…

“Epidemic” by New Years Day fills the arena, and the crowd goes wild.

Williams: This has been weeks in the making - the rematch from Black Horizon.

Fury: Dick knows this, and he can’t wait to see Crimson Lord spill the rest of this little thief’s blood on the mat.

Announcer: From New York, New York… standing at five feet six inches and weighing in at one hundred thirty six pounds… she is one half of the current reigning UTA World Tag Team Champions…

Williams: The only title, I might add, that’s stayed put since All or Nothing.

Fury: All due to the current reigning World Champion, La Flama Blanca.

Williams: I’ll remind you that the Second Coming took the victory in that big four corners match before Black Horizon.

Fury: Dick remembers, and he thinks there were extenuating circumstances.

Announcer: THE… SECOND… COMING!!!

Black and silver strobes pan the crowd, while the Second Coming enters the arena. She walks out without her typical black hooded sweatshirt - and her hands and wrists are wrapped to her elbows. Around her waist is her UTA World Tag Team Championship title belt.

Fury: Hahah! The dumb broad didn’t bring any weapons with her! Dick’s sure now, this is gonna be over quick!

The Second Coming stands at the entryway for several seconds, taking in the cheers. She nods slowly and deliberately, then turns to the entryway and gestures for someone to follow her.

Williams: It’s Zhalia Fears! The Second Coming’s partner is coming out with her! It’s smart strategy to have backup with a match like this.

Fury: How smart is it when your backup is carrying a container of nachos?

As Zhalia Fears approaches her partner, they high five and hug, and Fears enjoys her tasty snack while the women walk toward the ring. They’re not alone, however.

Fury: Hey - Hey, Fears - come on this way. Dick is hungry and he wants some nachos!

Williams: That’s it? No crude comments about Ms. Fears?

Fury: Dick’s horny, not stupid. Dick knows you don’t mess around with crazy. Also, Dick is hungry.

Behind the ladies, five UTA Security Guards follow the ladies to the ring, almost as an afterthought. Both the Second Coming and Zhalia Fears slap hands as they’re reached for, all the while Crimson Lord waits in the ring. He’s not patient or impatient: he’s stalking her like a wolf.

Williams: There’s the bell, and we’re official! The Second Coming hands her title belt to Zhalia Fears and slides under the bottom rope to come face to face with her opponent! The referee tries to give some direction, but Crimson Lord takes a swing!

Fury: Bleed, bitch!

Fortunately for the Second Coming, she appears to have expected Crimson Lord to do that - and she ducks out of the way of his fist. He fires a second, and she sidesteps, straight - arming him chest first into the turnbuckle in a motion that was eighty percent leverage and twenty percent Crimson Lord being off balance from his attack.

Williams: Good strategy by the Second Coming. She clearly learned at Black Horizon that she can’t match him toe to toe, and she’ll need to keep him off balance.

Fury: If she didn’t know that going into the Black Horizon match, then Dick thinks she hasn’t learned enough to survive tonight.

The Second Coming steps toward Crimson Lord with a forearm shot, however he sees her coming and hooks her, lifts her, and drops her with a Samoan drop.

Williams: That’s… exactly one more wrestling move than we thought we’d see tonight.

Fury: Boring… get to the blood!

On impact, the Second Coming slides out of the ring under the bottom rope and paces. Crimson Lord pulls himself to his knees and stares: his frenzy seems more controlled tonight. The flip side is that he probably wants to make her suffer.

Gaze yells at him to destroy the Second Coming immediately, which lends credence to the theory.

Williams: This match is clearly going to be touch and go. Usually a wrestler who gets busted open can take a second to regroup, then reengage and possibly win the match. This time, the first sight of blood is the clincher.

Fury: Dick is aware… why are you telling him things he knows?

The Second Coming makes an attempt to slide back into the ring, but pulls out when Crimson Lord makes a grab for her. She paces for another few seconds while the fans slowly start to chant her name.

Zhalia Fears whispers something in the Second Coming’s ear: strategy, maybe?

She subtly pulls down her mask and eats a nacho, so probably not.

Fury: Seriously… Dick needs chips!

As if she has a new lease on life, the Second Coming climbs to the ring apron on the steps, keeping the post between her and Crimson Lord as long as she can. She reenters the ring, in time for Crimson to backhand her across the face, sending glass shards and dust all over the ring. The fans gasp, though while the Second Coming’s facemask is scraped to hell, there is no sign of blood.

Williams: That mask just saved her, I think.

Fury: It saves us all every time she comes out. Dick shoots, Dick scores!

Crimson Lord looks pleased with himself, and why not? One shot put his opponent down: if he hits another, he could potentially end the match right there. Gaze agrees with this thought and shouts toward him to finish her off. Crimson Lord nods, but he continues his methodical stalking.

Williams: Another backhand by Crimson Lord, but the Second Coming rolls with it!

Fury: She’s bleeding!

Williams: She is not!

The camera zooms in close on the impact point and shows a split - screen replay. Crimson Lord fires a right hand toward her forehead, but she sidesteps and puts up a hand to partially block. There is a raised, reddened scrape on the side of her head, but no blood.

Williams: I think the referee does need to act with a certain amount of discretion here - a small scrape, a little cut - those shouldn’t end a match.

Fury: Making excuses already? Dick thinks it’s sad.

This time, Crimson Lord didn’t wait. He grabs the Second Coming by the throat with one massive hand --

Fury: Here’s what you do, Crimson! One handed lift and scrape her face off her face!

Williams: THE SECOND COMING WITH A BOOT TO THE KNEECAP! ANOTHER!

Two quick kicks stagger Crimson Lord and he drops his opponent back to the mat. Before he can react or recover, the Second Coming drops her heel right above his other kneecap, and he sinks to his knees.

Williams: Forearm to the face by the Second Coming-- OH MY GOODNESS!!

The bell suddenly rings as Crimson Lord’s face explodes in a spray of blood. The Second Coming steps back and lets herself fall between the top and middle rope as the video screen catches a close up of Crimson Lord’s face.

Blood is streaming out of his clearly broken nose, splattering all over his face. He looks more stunned  than anything over how quickly things turned. Gaze slides into the ring to check on him, but they both move toward the edge of the ropes.

It was at that moment that the Second Coming and Zhalia Fears step behind the extra security that had followed them to ringside.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match… THE SECOND COMING!!

The fans cheer as security holds Crimson Lord and Gaze back, while the Second Coming slowly unwraps the gauze from her right forearm, to reveal…

Williams: She loaded her forearm with a steel plate! This was a setup!

Fury: Setup nothing! She cheated!

Williams: How was that cheating when there’s no disqualifications? When you applauded Crimson Lord’s preparation of broken glass and straight razors?

Fury: ...Dick hates her.

The fans continue to cheer the Second Coming and Zhalia Fears, even as 2C drops the steel plate and raises her title belt. Security remains in between the two while the Second Coming says something inaudible to a member of the ring crew.

In the ring, Crimson Lord seethes. It’s written all over his face: this isn’t over.

At the top of the ramp, a folding chair and a microphone are waiting. The Second Coming picks up the microphone, turns the chair around, and sits down, facing Crimson Lord, with her elbows resting on the back of the chair.

Coming: How’s that for a return match, Crimson?

The fans cheer, while she looks around the arena, nodding.

Coming: Your problem is that you’re too short - sighted and too myopic to understand what really counts in this business. At Black Horizon, you beat me from pillar to post and got your hand raised. You talked openly about how all you wanted to do was ‘put me out of the sport,’ and how angry you were with yourself that I was able to get back in the ring. Do you see now, how easy it was for me to goad you into taking this match tonight?

Fury: She set him up!

Williams: Brilliant!

The fans appear to agree.

Coming: So there you are, in the middle of the ring. Seething. Livid. Seeing red. You’d like nothing more than to come down here and finish the job you started at Black Horizon, wouldn’t you?

That does it. Crimson Lord shoves one of the security guards out of the way, but wisely holds up as the others put their hands on their weapons: tasers, stun guns, and at least one revolver.

Coming: You were blinded by rage, and now you’ve lost. But that doesn’t matter, Crimson.

Next to her, Zhalia Fears comically offers the cameraman a nacho. The Second Coming barely moves while she pauses before her next statement, but her eyes are widely scanning the crowd.

Coming: Your victory at Black Horizon? Meaningless. My victory here? Meaningless. You didn’t pin me or make me submit, and I was still coming. I didn’t beat you up or beat you, I just made you bleed. What matters isn’t the wins or the losses, Crimson. What matters is this,

She points to her head.

Coming: And this,

She holds her hand over her heart.

Coming: And these guys.

She holds her hands out away from her body, toward the crowd. They cheer at their acknowledgement.

Coming: I fight for them, Crimson. I do my best for them. That’s why, no matter how badly you beat me at Black Horizon, no matter how many battles you might win… you’ll never win the war.

She stands up and steps away from the chair.

Coming: Have a nice day.

Williams: Wow! The Second Coming with the verbal bitch slap, and an exaggerated bow! She and Zhalia are out of here, and Crimson Lord and Gaze, whoo. If looks could kill, we’d all be dead.

Fury: Not Dick. If the clap couldn’t do it--

Williams: Just don’t.


Brought to You By


Abused Wives

Backstage, the frenzy of the evening had nearly come to an end. All that was left was the Main Event, which means that all of the prep work is complete.

All the better for 2 Badass 4 a Name to take a victory lap in the… victory… backstage.

Zhalia Fears: That was epic.

The Second Coming: Thank ya much, m’dear. We’re on a roll, I feel like getting ribs. Why don’t we find a cow and slaughter it, and build a fire, and cook ribs. And make barbeque sauce at the same time.

She stops, and stops Zhalia in her tracks.

2C: Even better! Let’s find a cow and take pictures of the cow, and send ‘em to Sean Jackson with the caption ‘You’re next’?

Zhalia stops, and laughs at the mental image while discarding her empty tray of Nachos in the bin.

Fears: I expect that the next time I faced him it would be just as brutal if we did that first… although, probably worth it!

VOICE: Look, Cecil - a flock of 'almost'-champions.

The women turn to view the off - camera voice, and Cecilworth Farthington and the new Legacy Champion, John Sektor.

Fears: Former Champions, dear. And one-half the tag champ.

Sektor: Heh, look at them..can't even hold a full compliment of the Tag Championships..

Farthington: Exactly, not like us - the Legacy Champions.

His comment hangs in the air, awkwardly. Sektor blinks a few times, regarding Farthington out of the corner of his eyes with a confused expression, before shaking it off as though it's something not worth going into.

Fears: To be fair, Smokey and the Bandit, we were the Legacy Champions first -- together -- just saying.

2C: Yeah, that was a fun match last week. Glad to see you’re taking your loss well, Fartington.

Farthington: It’s Farthington.

2C: Sure. So… what do you want?

Sektor: Nothing..just noticed you two Dame's lingering around here. I suppose you're waiting for a couple of eligible bachelors to sweep you off your feet?

Sektor winks at Farthington whilst Fears and 2C just give each other a knowing look.

Sektor: Well, sorry to burst your bubbles, Sweethearts..you ain't our type. We're just here to scope out the..'competition.'

2C: And?

He smirks.

Sektor: I’ll let you know when I see some.

The Second Coming steps toward him, but Zhalia holds her back.

Fears: Easy hun. The color green mixed with brown can block their eyesight.

The three just look at her before the Second Coming speaks up.

2C: You’ll have a hard time doin’ that next week, too, after I shove your head up his ass.

Fears: Even more brown.

Sektor laughs, while Cecilworth studies his head.

Farthington: That’ll… hurt.

2C: Ahh, you won’t even notice, though the mustache might tickle.

Fears: Easy, MJ. You do not want to push this before it is time. We got a week.

Sektor: Listen to her, sweetie. You’ve got girl balls between those legs,  but they’re gonna get you beat worse than the tall, mood ring, did at Black Horizon.

That quiets everyone.

Sektor: Now, The Machine is here to dismantle Dynasty and rule the UTA. You two don’t fit into Column A, and Column B is just business. I don’t care if we have a friendly match where we win, shake your hands, and move on with our careers, or if we have to smack you both around like a couple of abused wives..It’s your choice.

He folds his arms over his chest, holding the Legacy Title belt close to him. The Second Coming steps toward him.

2C: How about option three?

She points between herself and Fears.

2C: One of us makes you submit.

And she points at Sektor.

2C: While the other one of us makes him watch.

She points at Cecilworth.

2C: And makes him cry.

Sektor and the Second Coming stand nose to nose.

Sektor: Seven days, bitch.

2C: Beautiful. You can count.

Fears: Awesome TV show too. Only in this case you fellas can not hop in the blue orb and go back in time and change what happened.

The three look at her before MJ simply waves, exaggeratedly, in Sektor’s face, as the two women walk around The Machine.

John Sektor watches them go with daggers in his eyes.

Sektor: Yeah I can, and when the time comes I’ll be countin’ to three, just before we get our hands raised.

Fears looks back over her shoulder.

Fears: That is the officials job, John.

Sektor rolls his eyes and pushes his tongue into his cheek as Farthington kills his big moment.

With a shake of her head she swings her arm over The Second Coming’s and the two head down the corridor.

We linger on the Legacy Champion, who stares angrily after 2 Badass 4 a Name… until a hand touches his mustache. He swats the hand away and looks incredulously at Cecilworth.

Farthington: That’d be more itchy than ticklish.

Sektor: Seriously?

 


Whether You Like It Or Not

Cameras fade in to a close up of the UTA World Title. We zoom out to get a full shot of La Flama Blanca, glistening under the bright lights backstage. The Champion stands alone in front of a UTA banner. No crowd noise can be heard.

La Flama Blanca: Well... it's that time once again. It's time for La Flama Blanca to crush another hopeless soul's dream. 

LFB looks down at the UTA World Championship title that resides on his left shoulder. He adjusts it and never takes his eyes off the prize.

LFB: First, it was Lew Smith that thought he could walk into MY ring and leave with MY title. We ALL know how that ended. There's nothing wrong with your television screen... The title is still here, where it belongs. I am STILL champion.

The Champion pauses for a second, tilting his head towards the camera as he gestures with his right hand. Keeping his left hand on the title.

LFB: So tonight, Marie Van Claudio gets her first and last UTA World Title shot... you better make this count. I've heard you all week... talking all kinds of trash about the FACE of the UTA.

Blanca turns to face the camera, head on.

LFB: You called me scum and you called me a coward... That's good.

He nods his head and laughs for a second, almost liking it.

LFB: I'm the ideal World Champion... all my hard work shows that it does pay off in the end. All the events, the meet and greets, the Make-A-WIsh appearances... I did it all. Did more than anyone on the roster. I carry this place on my shoulders and have since the day I walked in here. 

Blanca looks off to the side and thinks about something.

LFB: My mother used to tell me... you should surround yourself with people better than yourself. To drive you, to make you want to be more. Don't lower yourself for any reason. I took my mother's advice. That's why I joined Dynasty... and look at me now.

LFB chuckles as he shakes his head. Still not able to believe his opponent.

LFB: So I'm scum? I can hear the jealousy in your voice. You wish you had the fans in the palm of your hands like I do. These beat nuts hang on my every word like it's the gospel. Eating whatever I feed them. 

They always have and always will. 

LFB: So I'm a coward? Funny... I don't remember needing help to defeat The Spectre inside a steel cage. I don't remember needing help to capture the UTA Legacy Title from Will Haynes and I sure as hell don't remember getting help to win the UTA World Title by drawing first blood.

The Champion gets a little stiff in front of the camera.

LFB: I did it all on my OWN!

You can tell the mood is getting more serious. 

LFB: But... there's one thing I am not and will never be... a coward. I don't back down from a fight. I don't need Dynasty to defeat you. I don't need anyone. You... on the other hand, could use the National Reserve, the Army, Navy and the Coast Guard. 

LFB takes his title off his shoulder and holds it in his hands by his waist. The camera gets a great shot of the title.

LFB: You are going to need all the help you can get tonight. This match is for this. The most prestigious title in our business. You have your shot to be a REAL star. This isn't some indie no one will ever remember... this is the United Toughness Alliance. 

Cameras zoom out as Blanca puts the title back on his left shoulder. 

LFB: I'm sick and tired of being forced to carry dead weight. I'm tired of having to say your name and give you fifteen minutes of fame inside the ring. I'm going to make quick work of you and then I'm getting on a charter flight. I paid for two seats... one for me and one... for this.

He taps on the face plate of his title.

LFB: The "Year of The Luchador" continues, Marie. Whether you like it or not... 

We quickly fade.

 

The Bitch Is Back By Elton John plays as the fans are booing

Marie Van Claudio walks out of the back and into the arena as she walks onto the ramp while flipping her hair around. Marie dusts off and walks to the ring as the fans boo her

Williams: Marie Van Claudio getting the chance of a life time right here on Victory!

Fury: Who did she bl-

Williams: DICK!

Fury: EXACTLY!

Williams: Ugh.

Marie keeps on walking to the ring as the fans are booing at her gets on the apron while wiping her feet.

Announcer: Hailing from Montreal, Quebec, Canada

Marie gets right in the ring and looks at everyone yelling at her before yelling at the top of her lungs that they better RESPECT her.

Announcer: Standing at 5’7 and weighing in at 127 pounds...

Marie looks at the referee and yells at him that he better not mess up her match this time.

Announcer: MARRRIIIEEE VAN CLAAUUDDDIIOOOO!!!

Moves her head left and right as she still has her theme song playing.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio could walk out tonight, the UTA World Champion!

Fury: Absolutely no way.

Marie moves back and forth while waiting for her opponent.

Williams: She doesn't look nervous at all.

Fury: Wait until the champ is here!

Down by Yelawolf begins to play. The crowd starts to stir as they await La Flama Blanca. The booing starts almost immediately.

The song is in full swing and Blanca walks through the curtain with a probable big smile on his face. Marshall Owens walks out behind his client. Flaunting his Dynasty apparel, his UTA World and Tag Team Championship title belts stacked on his waist. He stops, putting his fist high into the air. Owens claps for LFB.

Williams: The UTA World Champion has proved to be a fighting champion, having matches  almost every week and becoming one of the only people to successfully defend the title since two thousand and thirteen.

Fury: He went through hell to get that title, and now he plans to never lose it!

He gets a nice round of boos as he stands at the top of the entrance ramp. He pauses for a few seconds seeing fans devilish faces hate his guts. He loves it. Owens loves it as well.

Announcer: Hailing from Durango, Mexico...

Blanca walks down the ramp and gets major heat from the fans. He attempts to smack a fan but pulls himself back. Owens gets between his client and the fan. LFB points his finger in the face of another fan.

Williams: Marshall Owens trying to keep Blanca focused.

Fury: Trying to save that fan is more like it. And people say Marshall is a bad guy!

Announcer: Standing at Five Feet-Eleven inches and weighing in at Two Hundred-Fifteen pounds...

When Blanca finally gets to the ring he jumps up to the ring apron in one leap. Marshall stands by the ring steps looking up at his client as he claps him. The fans continue to boo the current UTA World Champion.

Announcer: He is a member of DYNASTY, he is one half of the UTA TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, he is the current UTA WORLD CHAMPION... He is LA FLAMA BLAAAAAANNNNCCCAAAAAA!

He hops over the top rope and bounces around the ring. The Luchador puts his arms in the air. Marshall moves both arms towards Blanca pointing at him.

Fury: There is the champ! The greatest champion of all time! Better than Ron Hall! More marketable than The Spectre! The only masked man to ever hold the title that wasn't a complete joke! THERE IS LA FLAMA BLANCA!

Williams: Wow, really Dick?

Blanca walks from side to side in the ring looking into crowd of mouth breathers. Flama Blanca comes to a halt in his corner; La Flama Blanca wipes his feet clean as the fans continue to boo. Owens yells at fans by ring side.

Williams: The World Champion hoping to continue to hold the title until Ring King.

He is not giving the fans any attention as he takes of his belts, handing them to Marshall outside the ring behind him.

Fury: Hoping? He will be champion until Ring King next year and beyond!

Marie stands in her corner, her fingers moving as she is ready. La Flama Blanca shrugs her off as he turns his back and bends over the top rope to talk to Marshall Owens.

Williams: The champion showing no respect to Marie Van Claudio here tonight.

Fury: Why would he?

As the bell sounds, Marie takes off. Blanca nods to Marshall and turns. As he does, Marie leaps up, grabbing the back of his head as she brings a knee into his mid section.

Williams: MARIE VAN CLAUDIO OUT OF THE GATE WITH THAT RISING KNEE!

Fury: Oh come on! He wasn't ready! What a cheap shot!

Williams: Cheap shot? The bell had rang! Maybe is La Flama Blanca paid more attention to what is at hand!

She brings a series of follow up knees into his gut before yanking his head as she steps backward.

Williams: Claudio in control early on, showing a side we just haven't seen before from her. That training from her family, coming out.

She pushes Blanca into a standing position before raising her hand up and coming forward with a thunderous chop to his chest.

Williams: What a chop to the chest of the champion there.

He grabs his chest and stumbles to the side, grabbing the top rope with his free hand as he moves a few feet further up. Claudio follows him. She grabs his shoulder, and turns him back first into the ropes.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio pinning the champion up against the ropes. Another huge chop.

La Flama Blanca lets out a yell as Marshall watches on, screaming for him to fight back.

Williams: And another!

She grabs his left arm and pushes forward, bending the ropes backward before pulling back hard.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio sends La Flama Blanca across the ring... follows behind... Blanca off the ropes, on the return now... MARIE VAN CLAUDIO LEAPS!

As she jumps, she throws her body out to the side, and catches Blanca, sending him to the canvas hard. The fans go crazy.

Williams: CROSS BODY BLOCK CONNECTS! CLAUDIO QUICKLY HOOKS THE LEG OF THE CHAMPION! THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET!

Fury: Whoa.. whoa.. WHOA! This can't be how it ends!

The referee slides into position and begins his count.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio one count away from... NO! Kick out by La Flama Blanca!

Fury: HA! I never doubted it!

Williams: Yes you did Dick.

Fury: You have Dick confused with Tommy.

Marie slaps the canvas in anger, but quickly begins to get up, pulling Blanca by his mask as she raises up.

Williams: Marie pulling Blanca to his fe....

La Flama Blanca sends a fist into her stomach. The fans boo.

Williams: Quick shot by the champion, may be what he needs to slow Marie down

Fury: Certainly not the first time she's had a guy punch her in the stomach. Just this time not to rid the world of a mistake.

Williams: Wow. Really Dick? That was just dark and quite frankly disturbing.

Fury: That's what guys say when they see Claudio naked and look down.

Williams: You make me sick.

Marie, whom has now turned away from the champion, holds her stomach. Blanca moves to the side, wrapping his left leg around the front of her right. He slides his body behind her as he bends her to the side and places his left arm around her right, pulling it back.

Williams: La Flama Blanca applying an abdominal stretch now, to slow the pace back down. We saw this in his match against Lew Smith, keeping things mostly ground and the pace slow, a complete opposite of what people expect when they think La Flama Blanca.

Fury: He's just showing how versatile he can be Jennifer. La Flama Blanca is the biggest person in this industry and has a tool kick that is rivaled by no one.

Marshall Owens heads over to the ropes near them. In his hand is a water bottle. Still holding Marie, he reaches out motioning for Marshall. Owens looks confused but passes the water bottle up to the champion through the ropes.

Williams: I've seen it all.

Fury: A little beverage break is all Jennifer.

Williams: Except his mask covers his whole head.

La Flama Blanca, still holding Marie, reaches over, offering the referee a drink, who declines.

Fury: See! What a nice guy! He knows the zebra is parched!

Williams: Oh come on.

He begins to dump the water out of the bottle over Marie's head, her hair dripping, before reaching back out and handing the little that remains back to Owens. The fans boo.

Williams: La Flama Blanca making a mockery of the challenger.

Fury: She was hot from all that initial running around Jennifer! he was just trying to help cool her down!

Williams: Yea, that's it.

He places his hand on her lower back, pushing down as he continues to hold.

Williams: The longer La Flama Blanca holds this in, the more it takes out of Marie Van Claudio.

As he continues to stretch, Blanca moves his hand now from her back over to the top rope, grabbing it and pulling back to add additional pressure to the stretch. Marie cries out.

Williams: La Flama Blanca putting Marie through pain tonight.

Fury: She deserves it! She needs to know her place in the food chain. The fact she showed up tonight is just embarrassing.

The referee sees him holding the ropes and warns Blanca, beginning to count.

Williams: La Flama Blanca releases the hold so not to get disqualified.

Marie falls to the canvas, holding her side in pain.

Williams: This is where La Flama Blanca shows just how mean he really is as he now brings a foot down and into the ribs of Marie Van Claudio.

Fury: Not mean at all. Methodical.

He brings another stomp down, before reaching down and grabs her by the hair, before beginning to pull her to her feet.

Williams: The champion in full control, using Marie Van Claudio's hair to bring her to her feet.

Fury: Rip it out!

As he pulls her up, La Flama Blanca pushes Marie back as he steps back himself. He then comes forward, shooting his leg up and out.

Williams: ESTUP- NO! Marie ducks!

As she ducks the kick, Claudio drops down, wrapping under his thigh, and using his lost balance and her momentum to pull, bringing him over and down, shoulders to the canvas. She leans in as hard as she cans as he kicks and the referee drops.

Williams: SCHOOL GIRL! SCHOOL GIRL! THE REFEREE COUNTS... TWO... TH- KICK OUT BY LA FLAMA BLANCA!

Fury: He waited that long for dramatic effect! That's all!

Williams: THE SECOND TIME IN THIS MATCH THAT MARIE VAN CLAUDIO ALMOST BECAME UTA CHAMPION!

Both opponents roll over and start to get to their feet.

Williams: The champion up first, rushes Claudio.. she catches him.. arm drag take over!

Blanca quickly rolls up and rushes again.

Williams: Claudio catches him a second time with an arm drag! The momentum is building now!

As La Flama Blanca rolls over and up again, this time when he rushes, Marie drops down.

Williams: Blanca leaps over Claudio. Hits the ropes, on the return.

She gets up, placing her body down to catch him.

Williams: Leap frog by the champion.. off the ropes again.. Marie goes for another arm drag...

This time, Blanca locks her arm and stops in motion, twisting around behind her, where he pulls and then holds her arm.

Williams: Standing hammerlock...

Marie ducks down under his arm reversing it.

Williams: Reversal by Marie Van Claudio who is showing a lot of good technical wrestling her tonight.

A Claud-i-o chant breaks out.

Williams: She is even getting the fans behind her!

Fury: UNGRATEFULS!

Blanca does the same, rolling behind her.

Williams: Reversal now by the champion, he grabs her by her waist. Belly to back, as he squeezes tight.

Fury: Be careful Blanca, she likes that!

He lifts her up, turning to the side, and slams her to the canvas, still holding on.

Williams: La Flama Blanca still holding tight after trying to knock the air out of Marie.

Fury: Unsure how effective that is. She has a bit of cushion on her chest.

Williams: As a woman I can tell, you, that is not pleasant.

La Flama Blanca releases her waist, and scoots across the canvas, grabbing around Marie's neck, pushing his shoulder's into hers and applying pressure.

Williams: La Flama Blanca once again slowing things down here, trying to keep Marie Van Claudio locked in and unable to fight back.

Marshall Owens applauds his client from the outside. Blanca maneuvers around, before he begins to roll across the canvas.

Williams: Like an alligator subduing his prey, La Flama Blanca rolls.

As he ends the roll, Blanca pushes up to his knees, pulling Claudio with him before pushing all the way up. He pulls Marie Van Claudio toward the center of the ring before bringing a knee up to her midsection.

Williams: Blanca working the midsection of Marie Van Claudio. Another knee.

He readjust Claudio, continuing to hold her neck with one arm, with his free hand goes down, grabbing the side of Claudio's shorts. La Flama Blanca then lifts Marie Van Claudio straight up, holding her steady.

Williams: La Flama Blanca with Marie Van Claudio up vertically.

Fury: It's over for Claudio! This is great!

Claudio begins to kick her feet. The fans start to rumble as Blanca's eyes grow large.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio fighting back...

She throws his legs back down from where they came with such force that Blanca is brought forward, down head first into the canvas.

Williams: Claudio reverses what would have been a huge vertical suplex into a devastating DDT! Both competitors now down!

Marshall Owens throws his hands in the air and shakes them as he begins to pace back and forward.

Williams: The referee is counting. One of these two have to get to their feet!

Fury: Can you believe that DDT Jennifer? It seemed as if La Flama Blanca had held Marie Van Claudio vertically for an eternity. The force alone may have just knocked Blanca out for good! This is horrible!

Marie Van Claudio rolls over to an elbow, shaking the cobwebs out before rolling over more and starting to push up. La Flama Blanca raises a hand up before moving it to his head.

Williams: Both of these superstars starting to come to as the referee continues.

Marie Van Claudio crawls on her elbows toward the ropes as La Flama Blanca rolls over to his stomach, still holding his head.

Williams: Claudio looking to get to the ropes and hopefully use them to get up before the referee can reach ten.

Fury: GET UP BLANCA! GET UP!

Williams: The referee still counts... we may have a new champion here! MARIE IS UP! MARIE IS UP!

Fury: No.... no.. no.. NOOO!!!

Marshall quickly slides halfway into the ring and grabs Blanca's foot, pulling him across the canvas and out under the bottom rope. the fans boo like crazy.

Williams: Marshall Owens making the save, and yet again proving that La Flama Blanca relies on others to-

Fury: Stop right there! He didn't ask Marshall to do that. Being the great representative he is, Marshall did that on his own free will to protect his client!

Williams: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Marie yells at the referee who throws his hand up to tell her to calm down. Outside of the ring, Marshall talks to Blanca who holds himself up by the edge of the ring. The referee comes forward and yells at Owens, before pointing to the back. the fans get on their feet as Marshall can't believe it.

Williams: MARSHALL OWENS IS BEING EJECTED!

Fury: BAD CALL HERE! To think, Blanca offered this guy a drink! WHERE IS THE RESPECT?!

Owens stomps around before starting to head up the ramp. La Flama Blanca begins to pace, his hands on his hips. Finally, aggravated, he turns and reaches up, grabbing the middle rope.

Williams: La Flama Blanca using the ropes to pull himself to the apron.

Marie sees him, runs back and hits the opposite ropes, before shooting forward.

Williams: MARIE VAN CLAUDIO OFF OF THE ROPES!

She leaps over the top as Blanca bends his neck down. As she flips over, she grabs around his waist, throwing her legs forward and down, yanking him hard from the apron, back, and down to the floor.

 Williams: SUNSET FLIP OVER THE TOP ROPE AND INTO A POWER BOMB! MY GOD!

The fans get on their feet and even the referee leaps back.

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Williams: The fans are amazed and so am I!

Fury: THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!

La Flama Blanca lays motionless as does Marie who landing hard on her tail bone. The referee quickly gets into action and begins to count.

Williams: Marie Van Claudio may have hurt herself with that, but the damage done to La Flama Blanca may have taken the champion out for good!

Fury: First Lew Smith, now Marie Van Claudio! WHO DOES WINGATE KEEP BOOKING THE CHAMPION AGAINST THESE UNSAFE COMPETITORS!

Williams: Unsafe?! You will do whatever it takes when everything is on the line as it is here tonight!

The referee continues to count. The fans start to get even louder as from the back we see... Chris Hopper.

Williams: CHRIS HOPPER! IT'S CHRIS HOPPER!

Fury: What is this idiot doing here?!

Williams: Chris Hopper has had problems with La Flama Blanca for a long time, heating up as La Flama Blanca super kicked him just a couple weeks ago.

The referee reaches ten and starts to call for the bell.

Announcer: Due to a double count out... this match is a no contest.

The fans boos.

Announcer: STILL.. UTA WORLD CHAMPION... LA FLAAAAAMMMAAA.... BLLAANNNCCAAA!!!

Williams: La Flama Blanca is still the champion, but he may have bigger problems here as Chris Hopper has hit ring side.

Hopper reaches down, and grabs La Flama Blanca's lifeless body, yanking it up and rolling him into the ring. Suddenly from the back, all of Dynasty run down. The fans boo more. Hopper turns to see them, but it is too late as a barrage of fist start to pummel him outside of the ring.

Williams: A gang like beating now commencing as Jackson, Unlikely, Kendrix, and CBR beat Chris Hopper outside of the ring.

Marie Van Claudio uses the nearby barricade to pull herself up, looking around and seeing what is going on. Just as she does, the fans go insane as Lew Smith burst down the ramp.

Williams: LEW SMITH IS HERE!

Marie moves forward, where she grabs Mikey Unlikely, turning him around.

Williams: Marie with a boot to the gut of Unlikely... SNAP DDT TO THE FLOOR OUTSIDE!

The fans cheer loudly. Lew rushes behind Kendrix, throwing his arms under Kendrix's. He leaps up, and wraps his legs around Kendrix before falling back to the floor and squeezing.

Williams: LEW SMITH LOCKS ON HEAVEN'S JUDGMENT TO KENDRIX!

Jackson and CBR turn to see what is happening. As they do, Chris Hopper pushes up from a knee.

Williams: Both men stomp Lew Smith, causing him to release his grip. Marie runs.. DROP KICK TO SEAN JACKSON OUTSIDE OF THE RING!

Jackson stumbles back and turns. As he does, Hopper shoots forward, leaps, catches his head as he turns and drops.

Williams: ICE BREAKER OUT OF NOWHERE!

CBR turns and screams at Hopper as he pushes up.

Williams: CBR runs... hard into the gut of Hopper.. lifts.. SPINEBUSTER!

The fans boo.

Fury: YES!

Williams: Pure power by CBR!

As he gets up and turns, he is met by two feet. One from Lew Smith and one from Marie Van Claudio.

Williams: Temporary alliance her as they lock CBR... both lift... CBR heavy.. however, able to get him over... DOUBLE TEAM SNAP SUPLEX! THE FANS ARE ROCKING THE CEILING OFF OF THE WRESTLEZONE!

Fury: How dare they sneak attack Dynasty!

Williams: WHAT?! YOU ARE DELUSIONAL!

Smith and Claudio head over, checking on Chris Hopper. As they do, La Flama Blanca begins to get up in the ring.

Williams: The champion getting to his feet, as the referee, who has lost all control here, hands him his titles.

Smith and Claudio help Hopper to his feet. As he gets up, the three turna nd look at Blanca in the ring.

Williams: La Flama Blanca is targeted now...

Hopper points Lew to one side of the ring, and Marie to the other. Blanca turns, trying to watch all three as they climb the apron from three different sides.

Williams: These three have a serious problem with La Flama Blanca and look to solve it here tonight.

As they all enter the ring, Blanca drops down and rolls out of the ring on the side with no one. The fans boo.

Fury: That is why he is champion. Look how intelligent he is!

LFB never turns his back on the ring as he makes his way around to his fellow stable mates who are starting to get to their feet. A stare down commences from inside the ring to Dynasty outside.

Williams: Tonight, Marie Van Claudio brought it folks. Tonight she almost became World Champion. An unlikely teaming has shown that Dynasty is in fact human. It has shown that they can be defeated.

Fury: Defeated? THEY WERE AMBUSHED!

Williams: They should have never been out here in the first place Dick!

Standing in the middle fo Dynasty, La Flama Blanca who is obviously still in pain, raises both the tag title and World title high up, mocking all three as they watch on from inside the ring and we fade to black.



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