• L E G A C Y
  •  

    L E G A C Y

    No Brand Wrestling Presents: LEGACY
    Live from Thomas & Mack Center - Las Vegas, NV.



    Intro

     

    The opening drum beats and guitar strums of ‘Legacy’ by the Black Veil Brides erupted over the speakers as the cameras panned through the arena giving great focus to the fans live in attendance. Showing their support with tshirts, signs, masks, and all sorts of merchandise for this extravaganza. It then focused in on the stage which had been redesigned with LEGACY in mind. The stage was filled with poker and blackjack tables on either side, while the entrance was the bottom corner of a much larger Ace playing Card that made up the wall, along with a slot machine which had the EpiCenter I's tron screen within it. The Thomas & Mack Center had come to life as the EpiCenter showed the Champions of NBW, one by one. Resulting in nothing but resounding cheer for each one.

    Racing faster
    Escape disaster
    Partners in crime will leave their mark
    We make our own way
    No thoughts of yesterday
    Black hearts of chrome and battle scars
    (Chrome and battle scars)
    Oh

    The video started to show the moments that have come to pass to lead us to this very moment in time. The Hall of Fame inductee's were shown setting up a match to end their feud over the years. The highly active and contested tag team division, leading to the Dynasty Tag Team Championship defense later against The Rich Family, as well as A-List facing The Entertainers. The video then transitioned to the Six man tag for later in the night featuring HMMS and the Different Breed..

    The legacy,
    Born from a dream
    On leather wings
    Rose from the streets
    With the hands on destiny

    The EpiCenter then went on to show as the dueling Giants set forward for one final showdown - with the prize of a NBW World Heavyweight Championship, at the end of the line. We then transition to The Zone where Keegan would be facing brother Willis later this night..

    We came from nothing,
    But promise one thing
    We'll change the world with these guitars
    So listen closely
    And don't stop working
    No one can tell you who you are
    (Tell you who you are)
    Oh

    The video continued with the kidnapping of Sally Renolds, followed by the announcement of the Laddervault, setting forth Newbludd's defense against Ravage. The footage then showcased the fight at Scorched between Benjamin Jones and Ali Amore, and the encounters the two have had leading up to this very night.

    The legacy,
    Born from a dream
    On leather wings
    Rose from the streets
    With the hands on destiny
    The legacy
    Born from a dream
    On leather wings
    Rose from the streets
    With the hands on destiny

    The footage came to rest on the NBW World Heavyweight Championship, which had been heavily contested over the past few months, thanks to the current reigning champion - Lucky Carter. A side by side split of Carter and Derecho filled the screen, coming in from the left and right respectively, until their faces were merging into one.

     

    The Thomas & Mack Center erupted with cheers as the cameras panned the arena once more and the festivities begun. Pyro exploded all over the entrance stage and from the large hanging LEGACY logo over the ramp. Streamers and screamers shot off from the EpiCenter II hanging high above the ring. The entry ramp glowed in glory as it was lined with a spray of golden sparks from the top to the bottom of the rampway.

     

    The drone camera continued to float about the arena for a few moments before they rested on a close-up of the announcers for the evening; Melissa ‘Tinsel’ Vanderart and C.G. Gains.

     

    “IT IS EXPLOSIVE here tonight folks! I'm Melissa Vanderart and with me as always is Mr. C.G. Gains himself.” welcomed Melissa Vanderart while she smiled widely at the camera. “Welcome to LEGACY everyone!”

     

    “The atmosphere is electric here tonight.” Added Gains.

     

    “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the grandest stage of the NBW. And tonight our card is stacked! Every single one of our Champions will be in action looking to retain their championships. We will also see the return of The Zone, and even a duel between the two Giants of the NBW.”

     

    “Not to mention, we'll also see Derecho reclaim what is rightfully his, just like Benjamin Jones will do when he collects the bounty on Ali Amore.”

     

    “There is plenty of action tonight. So rather than give you the full run down, how about we get to the action. What do you say Craig?”

     

    “I say... bring forth the sacrifices!”

     

    "Or in other words, let's get to our first match of the evening where two recently inducted Hall of Famer's will face off!"

     

    The cameras pulled back from the announcers section and panned to the stage in wait.

     

    Max Hopper Versus Travis Martinez

    Hall of Famers Match

     

    The voice of Reverend Norb announced the name of the song “U.F.O.” by Boris the Sprinkler, followed by the rest of the band chanting, “U.F.O! U.F.O! U.F.O! U.F.O!” It wasn’t long before the crowd in the packed, sold out, standing room only with a waiting list of six months to get in Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, Nevada, started to chant along.

    Only one person in nbW history, no, pro-wrestling history, NO… 10th grade WORLD history would ever be daring enough to enter to this song for any match, let alone a match at nbW’s biggest pay-per-view blowout spectacular of the year - Legacy - and that was ½ of the 2016 nbW Hall of Fame Class… “MaX-Files” Max Hopper! Not only did he enter to a song about being taken by a U.F.O., but he did so wearing his new trunks he just got in the mail, with smiling alien faces on either side, along with a t-shirt sporting a picture of his face and the words “I WANT TO BELIEVE” underneath.

    Oh, and he was accompanied to the ring by a group of dancing, green, alien women. It was his first time on a Legacy PPV and he was really trying to make it as memorable as possible. The fans seemed to be enjoying it.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome… to… LEGACY!” Brent Williams began. “Tonight’s opening bout will feature BOTH of nbW’s newest Hall of Famers. Introducing first... “ Brent Williams scratched his head in confusion. “His weight is classified... His hometown is classified… Is there anything about him that isn’t classified? Anyway, introducing… MAX… HOPPER!

    Former Blitzkrieg, Keystone, and World Champ, at one time the greatest monster ever to roam nbW (and this included Torment, just to shine some light on what an accomplishment being the biggest monster was) turned beloved fan favorite, Travis Martinez, was out next. He was the second half of the 2016 nbW Hall of Fame Class, and he looked like he could have been on the cover of every Wheaties box and Muscle & Fitness magazine since 2006. The fans cheered so loud that it looked like their heads would explode.

    “Introducing the former nBW World Champion, fighting out of Chicago, Illinois. He is THE FORGOTTEN SON, TRAVIS MARTINEZ!” Brent Williams 
     
    Immediately the lights in the arena deaden to black as Last Man Standing by Black Water Rising flowed into the speakers. The lights erupted with Travis Martinez already emerged from the back area, spotting his usual wrestling tights. The crowd erupted with applause as the superstar’s stock had risen in recent weeks. He moved slowly but efficiently walking along motivated as he psyched himself up for the upcoming contest. Despite not being in a wrestling ring for a year and half Travis looked as he was ready to uphold his legacy here tonight. The fans reached for the former monster as he walked to the ring with pride before sprinting and diving underneath the bottom rope.
     
    Immediately he hopped on to the middle turnbuckle with his arms firmly hoisted into the air. An leap and turn off the buckle and positioned himself facing Max Hopper.
     
    Wait, wait, wait. No expository bit? Nothing telling the history between these two? That can’t be right, so here we go. Back when Travis Martinez was “The Forgotten Son” Judasbleek, he ended Max Hopper’s career… Not once, but twice! Finding times, dates, episode numbers, and video footage was going to be an extremely time-intensive process, so we’ll just bypass that and you can take my word for it. The first time this happened, Judasbleek put Max Hopper on the sidelines with ribs that were fractured so badly that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Hopper’s ribs back together again. The second time, well Max Hopper had to offer up his career as a means to get a rematch with Judasbleek and a shot at the Blitzkrieg Title and lost. If you don’t believe me, you’re more than welcome to comb through nbW’s extensive archive to prove me wrong, but then I’ll just counter claim you by saying it took place on some random house show in Kenosha, Wisconsin…

    Anyway, the two have had history. Bloody history. Warring history. They were like North and South Korea, Japan and China, Michigan and Ohio State. Enemies and rivals of the deepest degree. And most recently, they were both announced as members of the nbW Hall of Fame. However, many have criticized on call-in radio shows, Twitter, the Today Show, and yes, even Maury an episode of Maury entitled “My Twelve Year Old Hall of Fame Is Running Wild” that Max Hopper was not deserving of his induction. Travis Martinez, on the other hand, had become a beloved and applauded Hall of Famer.

    Max Hopper had never beaten Travis Martinez before and this would be his very last chance, possibly his last chance to prove that he belonged immortalized among the constellations of “The Villain,” “The Superstar,” and the “Snow Selling, Time Traveling, Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic” in nbW’s Hall of Fame. For Travis Martinez, however, there was no doubt.

    This had the makings for a spectacular opening bout.

    Someone, somewhere, had thought that it would have been a good idea to let the nutball speak, so Max Hopper was holding a microphone as he approached Martinez.

    “I just want to RE-introduce myself. I’m the ‘Space Pimp’ Max Hoppa, making you feel dizzy like a bottle of grappa and smackin’ dat azz like an angry papa. I learned from the best - JKJ and SJH- they taught how to grab the mic and show the world I’m great! Now I’ve been dealin’ with a lot of Hall of Fame hate from people who fund Kleenex every time they mastur… WAIT! Now, without any further delays, it’s time to come aboard… the U.F.HOOOOOOE train!”


    Amidst the laughter of the crowd, Max looked at Martinez, who had to fight for all he was worth to hold in his own laughter. This had apparently been completely unplanned and Travis had no idea Max was going to do this.

    “Now I’m going to offer you a choice. We can either wrestle in front of all of these fans here in the Thomas & Mack Center here tonight, at nbW’s biggest event of the year, Legacy… Or you can go to the locker room and get a sweet oil massage with a CLIFFHANGER ENDING from one of my U...F...HOOOOOOOES! What will it be?”

    Max passed the microphone over to Travis Martinez, who was shaking from trying not to laugh.

    “Something told me you were going to pull some crazy stuff here tonight. Hell, it’s expected, you are one hell of a performer Hopper but the antics won't help you win this match.”

    And with that last statement Travis dropped the mic before he took Hopper’s head off with a big clothesline that sent the U.F.Hoes scrambling out of the ring!

    PIMP DOWN! PIMP DOWN!! PIMP DOWN!!!

    The fans around the arena chanted as Hopper lost all his sonic rings with that hellish clothesline he received from Martinez who was all business here tonight. The bell sounded and the Man Who Replaced Kirk Cameron on the Cover of Tiger Beat struggled to gain his composure as he used the ropes to stand up. “You taking this match serious yet, Hopper!!” Travis blurted out as he charged at his old rival. With the cobwebs dissolving Max answered the only way he could and shot a stiff gator boot into Martinez’s gut. With the big man keeled over, the ticked off Max Hopper removed his shirt, wound it up, and used it to snap Martinez right in the junk in his trunk!

    Travis jumped, grabbing his posterior as he snapped his head toward Hopper just in time to see the soles of the Space Pimp’s boots collide with his face! The dropkick only staggered Travis Martinez, but Max was right back on his feet and darted back to the ropes for another one! Martinez still didn’t go down, so Hopper went back to the ropes again and this time, he sent the Genetic Entity to the mat with a tilt-a-whirl headscissor! The smaller man in the match was quick to follow up with an Asai moonsault.


    ONE!


    Martinez powered out of the early pin attempt as both grapplers clambered to their feet. The Forgotten Son lunged toward his foe and caught him by surprise, locking in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. This of course, put Max Hopper at a distinct disadvantage, since Travis Martinez was by far the stronger of the two. However, the height differential gave Hopper room to duck underneath with a go-behind and put Martinez into a waistlock. The Genetic Entity used a standing switch to reverse positions. He bent Max’s arm behind him like he was trying to make him holler “Uncle!” In response, Hopper ducked underneath, reversing the hammerlock, and then quickly transitioned into a standing side headlock. Martinez hoisted Hopper up, looking for a back suplex, but Max rolled his hips and landed on top of his adversary with a lateral press!


    ONE!


    TWO!!



    KICKOUT!

    Hopper had nearly surprised Martinez, who was showing his frustration. You could see it on his face. Normally this would be the point in the match when the man formerly known as Judasbleek would lose his cool, however he didn’t. As Hopper got to his feet he was slammed  with a forearm smash before being whipped to the far corner. The Forgotten Son bolted into action as he charged into the corner and connected with a clothesline that left Hopper on noodle legs. With Hopper wandering into the center of the ring, Travis followed in behind him with a Northern Lariat.The Simone Biles of His Generation was getting a lesson in thuganomics as Travis bullied him into a cover.


    ONE!

    TWO!!


    THR-
    KICKOUT!!!


    Thanos himself couldn’t have kicked out of that any better. It wasn’t enough and Travis knew it but didn’t let it deter him from pressing forward as he brought Hopper up to a vertical base. In control Martinez peppered his foe with some chops before he finished with a head butt. On wobbly legs Hopper was losing his footing but countered with some chops of his own. Not to be out done Travis fought through the pain and returned the favor with some more chops that finally took Max down to mat. The hulking man from Chicago circled Hopper as he stood holding his chest. Travis slipped in behind and tried to lock in a waistlock, but Hopper was ready and countered into a front roll up.

    ONE!

    TWO!!


    THR-
    KICKOUT!!!

    Max quickly attempted to follow up, hurling himself against the ropes and returning with a kick to Martinez’s chest.

    SMACK!

    The kick put Martinez flat on his back, clutching his chest. Hopper then took to the top rope, but the Genetic Entity was quick to his feet. He was only playing possum! He grabbed MaX-Files by the groin and throat, and Max knew he was about to get Lost in Space. He shook his head “no.”

    “Oh no. No, no!” he cried out.

    But Travis Martinez launched him clear across the ring to the other corner! The Forgotten Son stalked his prey, who was so out of it that he put his pinky and thumb up to his head like a Gadget phone yelling, “Beam me up, Scotty!” To everyone’s surprise, a voice was heard to answer, shouting, “I’m givin’ her all she’s got, Captain!” It turned out to be someone from the crowd, but it got a lot of laughs. Hopper’s call was quickly interrupted by Travis’s size sixteen boot as it crushed his face. Before Max could collapse Travis followed up with some right hands before whipping the dazed Space Pimp into the far corner.

    With a head of steam, the Genetic Entity tried to connect with yet another Yakuza kick but Hopper limboed underneath in the nick of time with a Matrix move. nBW couldn’t afford CGI but lucky for them Hopper does his own stunts, just like Jackie Chan. Travis turned around to find Max Hopper jetting toward him at warp speed! However, he had just enough time to get his hands on the charging Mexican Grasshopper and launched him over his head. Lucky for Max, he landed on his feet on the top turnbuckle. Unlucky for Max, Travis Martinez knocked his legs out from under him as soon as he turned around to try to mount an offensive. The Space Pimp found himself crotched on the top turnbuckle, prone and ready for the picking.

    Travis Martinez scaled the ropes, lifting his opponent high into the air for perhaps a superplex. Instead of a superplex, though, he dropped Max Hopper’s head straight into the top turnbuckle with a BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH~!

    Hopper got dropped like a bad habit, falling to the ring apron. Martinez reached over the top rope and grabbed Hopper by the hair to drag him to his feet. The Perfection Purged from Imperfection proceeded to pull MaX-Files, who looked out on his feet, into the ring, stopping with his feet hanging on the top rope.

    HELIX OF THE FORSAKEN!

    Hopper was draped on the ropes as an enraged Travis twisted the Cosmic Cat Daddy down into the mat with that nasty rope-hung dragon screw neck whip! The ring rattled to its core upon impact as the crowd cringed. Martinez seizes the moment and drags Hopper’s limp body to the center of the ring for a cover.

    ONE!


    TWO!!

    THR-
    KICKOUT!!!

    Travis checked in with the referee after the close fall, but the official assured him it was only a two count. Again showing signs of frustration, this time at not putting his opponent away, The Forgotten Son simply grabbed Max Hopper and threw him through the ropes to the ringside floor! He backed to the far side of the ring and waited for his target to stand. Then he bolted toward him, diving between the ropes to crash into Max Hopper with a suicide dive!

    The crowd was over the moon with excitement. Both men were sprawled out in what looked like a trainwreck. It appeared as though Travis Martinez had taken the worst of it, having crashed into the barricade. The referee began his mandatory ten count.

    ONE!

    TWO!

    THREE!

    Max Hopper began to stir first.

    FOUR!

    FIVE!

    Martinez was still down and Max slumped against the ring apron.

    SIX!

    SEVEN!

    Hopper rolled inside the ring beneath the bottom rope, breaking the referee’s count. He pulled himself back to his feet, and spotted Travis Martinez on the ringside floor trying to get back to his feet. Max Hopper’s eyes lit up behind his SeX-Ray Specs™. He pointed to the crowd on the left side of the ring, and they answered back.

    “GOTTA!”

    Then he pointed to the crowd on the right.

    “HAVE!”

    He then turned to the crowd opposite of his fallen foe, raising his arms like a conductor with an orchestra.

    “MYYYYYYYYY…”

    Max Hopper took off running with a full head of steam, high-jumping over the top rope with a moonsault-esque maneuver and flattened Travis Martinez, who had made it to his feet. At the same time, the crowd shouted out, “HOPS!”

    GOTTA HAVE MY HOPS!

    Both grapplers bodies laid on each other as they both looked like one of Seth Brundle’s failed teleportation experiments. The crowd instantly erupted into chants.

    “THIS IS AWESOME!”

    Clap, clap. Clap, clap, clap!

    “THIS IS AWESOME!”

    Clap, clap. Clap, clap, clap!

    The referee had pretty much lost all control at this point, but he started a ten count anyway.


    ONE!

    TWO!


    THREE!


    FOUR!


    FIVE!

    Max and Travis started to stir as they clambered back into the ring at the same time. Max Hopper stood up to his feet again as he showboated some more to the crowd. Afterwards he rushed towards the ropes; bounced off them again and rushed in at Travis Martinez who pulled himself up to one knee. As the Space Pimp closed in, Travis Martinez reached out and stopped him dead in his tracks by wrapping his hand around Max’s throat as he rose up.

    Pulling him even closer, he planted his free hand on Hopper’s back and lifted up before slamming him down with a brutal choke slam! Martinez backed up before jumping up and dropping a big leg drop across Max's throat. Getting back up again, Martinez reached down to grab hold of Max, but the Mexican Grasshopper managed to latch onto him. He contorted his legs up, catching Travis by the neck and pulled him towards the canvas, hooking his leg and going for a roll-up variant.
     

    ONE!
     


    TWO!!

     


    KICKOUT!!!
     
     
    Managing to evade being held down for the three count, Travis Martinez once again deprived the fans of a reason to cheer. Pulling himself up slowly, Travis looked around and spotted Max planning his next move. Watching him circling around, trying to get behind him, Travis Martinez quickly pushed up and lunged out at him with both arms outstretched. As The Forgotten Son tried to latch onto his opponent, Max hit him with a stiff elbow strike to his exposed ribs. Stunning the former nBW World Champion, Max brought him over his shoulder with a Snapmare takedown.

    Getting back up, Travis Martinez went to step forward, but Hopper leaped in, smashing him in the chest with a spinning wheel kick. Staggering backwards into the ropes, Martinez tried to catch his breath, but before he could even think, Max ran in. Jumping towards the turnbuckle first, Hopper landed on the middle rope and catapulted himself off, knee first, smashing into the side of Travis's head and sending him outside of the ring. Crashing down off the apron and onto the floor below, Travis Martinez landed flat on his face. Max Hopper climbed out of the ring and disappeared into the crowd.

    Laying there for a moment, Travis shook his head and held his face. Realizing that underestimating Max early on in the match was a big mistake, he began to crawl towards the announcer's table. Reaching up, he pulled himself up using the table as a support and tried to steady his shaky legs. After getting to his feet, he steadied himself before letting go of the table and slowly turning round. As he stepped towards the ring, he looked up to find Max Hopper, who had emerged from the crowd on top of the giant playing card near the entryway! There was no way… Just no way!

    Martinez couldn’t believe his own eyes when the Space Pimp launched himself with a corkscrew plancha, all the way from the top of the giant playing card in the entryway to where Travis was standing at ringside! And it connected!

    IT CAME FROM OUTER SPACE!
     
    “HOLY SHIT!

    “HOLY SHIT!

    “HOLY SHIT!

    “HOLY SHIT!”

    Getting everyone in the venue up on his or her feet, the applause was thunderous. With both competitors down on the outside, the ref started the ten count. Max was the first to show some signs of recovery. Pulling himself-up, he looked down at Travis Martinez lying there flat out on his back and then looked to the announcer's table. Not wasting this chance, Max climbed up onto the table and took one last look at Martinez before jumping off with a Diving Double Foot Stomp to the Chicagoan’s chest.

    Jolting in pain on the floor from the impact, Travis Martinez held his chest and grimaced. This was not the match Travis was expecting from Max Hopper and given how hard his strikes were getting, he knew he only had one real chance to swing the match back in his favor. Otherwise, Max Hopper would completely run rings around him and wear him down. Reaching up, Martinez used the announcer's table once more as an aid in lifting himself up. As he got back up to his feet, Max grabbed hold of him.
     
    THREE!!.......FOUR!!
     
    Running on adrenaline and the backing of the crowd, the Space Pimp helped his rival up to his feet before resuming his attack. Trying to force Travis Martinez into the ring, he pulled at him, but even in his slightly subdued state, he could not shift Travis’s dead weight. Lashing out, The Forgotten Son managed to bring his knee up and drive it into Hopper's stomach, doubling him over for a moment. Buying himself a few seconds, Travis Martinez took hold of Max’s hair and pulled his own head back before throwing a big head-butt into Hopper’s face. Staggering backwards, Hopper stopped himself on the apron and shook his head. Knowing that Travis was coming in for him, he threw one leg forward, trying to kick Martinez in the mid-section, but the Genetic Entity caught it. Smiling, thinking he had MAX at HIS mercy, Travis Martinez went to reel him in. However, Hopper jumped up, twisted hitting him with a Pele kick variant of the Enzuigiri.
     
    FIVE!!.......SIX!!
     
     
    Subduing Travis Martinez once more, Max took hold of him by the neck and managed to get him back into the ring, rolling him under the bottom rope. Climbing up onto the apron, Max quickly leapt up onto the top rope and launched himself-off in a front flip motion. As he went over, he extended his legs and looked for the
     
    FRONT FLIP LEG DROP!!!
     
    However, Travis Martinez managed to evade it at the last second by rolling out the way. Wincing from the impact of the missed move, Max got back up, using the ropes, and looked over to Travis Martinez.  Max Hopper advanced on Travis Martinez for what he hoped would be the last time of this evening. Knowing he could rush in now and catch him with another huge knee strike, potentially landing the knockout blow, he picked up speed. Breaking into a run, Hopper closed in, but as he went for the jump, Travis Martinez flicked his head up and caught Hopper’s knee in mid air while converting the momentum of the move into a monstrous, CAPTURE SUPLEX!!

    Strongly resembling a World War II soldier braving heavy fire, Travis Martinez dragged himself toward the enemy hand-over-hand, urged on by the cheers from the crowd. He knew the opportunity was there to end the match, and he had to take it. He inched toward Max Hopper ever so slowly. When Martinez finally reached him, he draped his arm over Hopper’s chest. How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? Let’s find out.

    ONE!


    TWO!


    THREE
    - NO!!!!

    Hopper flung his shoulder from the canvas with only a hair separating the referee’s hand from the mat. Travis Martinez rolled off him. Completely spent, both men lay staring at the Zone overhead while the official started a mandatory ten count.

    ONE!

    TWO!

    THREE!

    FOUR!

    FIVE!

    Martinez started to move first, pulling himself toward the ropes.

    SIX!

    Hopper crawled toward the ropes in the opposite direction.

    SEVEN!

    EIGHT!

    They were both using the ropes to get to their respective feet.

    NINE!

    Both men had made it to a vertical base, ending the referee’s count. Max bolted toward Travis, but the Genetic Entity turned in time to pop the Space Pimp up into the air, grabbing him for a stunner as he came down.

    ELEVENTH PLUNDER!

    Travis Martinez had yet another opportunity to put this match to rest and be able to enjoy watching the rest of the night’s action. This time, he wanted to be CERTAIN of victory. So he peeled MaX-Files from the mat, hoisted him onto his shoulders, and spiked his skull into the canvas with a cut-throat inverted Death Valley Driver.


    CONSPIRATOR’S CROWN!!!


    That should do the trick. Lateral press for the win.

    ONE!


    TWO!


    THR -
    NO!

    Max Hopper’s foot realized how close it was to the bottom rope, and that was exactly where it went.

    The Genetic Entity looked like one of those Captain Picard facepalm memes. He was getting desperate to end the match, so he grabbed a fistful of Max Hopper’s “Hall of Fame” hair to bring him to his feet the hard way. Feeding him a couple of punches along the way, Travis Martinez ushered his weary victim to the corner. He set Max Hopper on the top turnbuckle facing the crowd and began his own ascent to the top rope from the ring apron. Martinez pulled Hopper to his feet, locked up for a suplex, and lifted him up like a sack of potatoes, hooking both of Max’s legs.

    The scenario was a bad one for professional wrestling’s chief liaison to the world of the weird and bizarre. There was a super muscle buster in his near future!

    Looking like a fly stuck in a spider web, Max Hopper started to wriggle and kick his legs in an effort to free himself. However, the Perfection Purged from Imperfection was just too strong. So he did the only thing he could do.

    WET WILLY!

    Yeah, that happened. Max Hopper moistened his finger inside his mouth and then used it to swab Martinez’s ear. Yuck! Travis was so grossed out by the squishy feeling of the saliva-covered finger in his ear that he lost his grip, allowing Max Hopper to flip forward, latching his legs around the Genetic Entity’s head.


    HOPPER

    CAN

    RANA!!!



    It was the top-rope hurricanrana that Max had tried, ever so unsuccessfully, to use to put the match away on their last encounter. Only this time, it had connected. Hopper sat atop Travis Martinez’s shoulders and hooked both legs under his arms. The Forgotten Son pumped his legs wildly in an attempt to escape.

    ONE!


    TWO!



    KICKOUT!


    Just playing.


    THREE!!!

    Max Hopper had done it! He had defeated all odds and gotten his first nbW pay-per-view win. Moreover, he had finally beaten his old nemesis Judasbleek, now known and loved by fans as Travis Martinez - former Blitzkrieg Champion, Keystone Champion, nbW World Champion, and rightful Hall of Famer. Victory over the man who had ended his nbW career not once, but TWICE!

    The crowd roared their approval at the spectacle provided by this opening contest as a dumbfounded Max Hopper shot to his feet. Unable to believe it himself, he got confirmation from the referee, who raised his hand in the air.

    “Here is your winner,” Brent Williams declared, “MAX… HOPPER!!!”

    Travis Martinez knelt with his head on the canvas. He couldn’t believe this happened, either. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to find Max Hopper’s hand, palm up.

    “Temba, his arms wide,” the Space Pimp told him.

    Travis Martinez was confused. “What did you just say?”

    “Temba, his arms wide,” Hopper repeated, motioning his hand. “Take my hand and I’ll help you up!”

    Travis Martinez took hold of Hopper’s hand and accepted the help back onto his feet. He tried to walk away, but Max hung onto his wrist. When Travis turned back around, there was the hand again, waiting for a handshake. Martinez stared at him for a second. The fans tried to convince him to do it. He looked at Max Hopper, who was still over the moon (but when was this guy ever NOT over the moon?) and then at his hand, until finally…

    Martinez reached out…

    And shook it! Max tried to turn away, but this time it was Martinez who was latched on.

    “Aw hell, bring it in, Max.”

    They hugged in the middle of the ring and Travis leaned in to Max Hopper. “You earned this,” he told him.

    Hopper turned to the crowd. “Darmok and Jalad… AT TANAGRA!” he shouted from the top of his lungs, raising Travis’s arm into the air. Max then motioned for all of his U.F.Hoes to get into the ring. He urged Travis to join them, and the entire group, INCLUDING Travis Martinez, broke out into a dance!

    What a way to kick off the granddaddy of them all, Legacy!

     

    Payback is a Bitch

     

    “-next thing I know, he’s invited over his neighbor and best friend.”

    The voice belonged to one Circe Hellion as the scene faded in on her and her sisters stepping out of their car.

    “Never made it to the movie that night. Or the next.”

    The girls laughed, “Remind me of boy toy back home.” Melantha responded with a grin, or at least tried to. She had one of those faces where it seemed a permanent scowl was melted on her face.

    The three continued across the parking lot towards the back entrance to the Thomas and Mack Center.

    “You’re from Maine, Melantha, and you’re from Canada, Circe. Yet Sisters?” Michelle Couli spoke for the first time.

    “Complicated,” replied Circe, “but we are sisters. And no matter, we are your Hellion Sisters.”

    “Exactly what I like to hear,” Couli stepped back as Melantha pulled the door open for her. “Melantha, be a dear and see if you can find somebody in this place that is worth a dime to make me a tea.”

    “As you wish Ma’am.” Melantha followed her up the step and through the doorway but stopped abruptly, as did the other two women.

    “Hello girls,” smiling wide, sitting indian style on a chair before them sat Mariella Jade Flair. “Been looking for you.”

    Michelle caught sight of the singapore cane in her lap and quickly turned about to head out, only to halt once more.

    “Sorry ‘chelle,” spoke Zhalia Fears with a grin as the fans in the arena cheered, “but we have waited weeks to get our hands on you and you are not leaving quite yet.”

    She pulled her hands from her back, showing she also was brandishing a singapore cane. With a matching nod of her head with MJF, Mariella leapt from the chair and swung the cane into the gut of Melantha to double her over, then straight across the back. Fears did the same with Circe but Michelle waited until Circe was doubled over and reached out to grab the cain and yanked it from Fears grasp.

    Circe plowed forward taking Zhalia through the door while Couli blocked Flair’s overhead strike and struck out with her own. The two giving a bit of a show with clashing sticks of destruction, their smacks echoing throughout the corridors.

    The scene swapped to a camera outside followed Circe and Fears tumbling down the steps to the parking lot. Fears landed on Circe but only momentarily before she was shoved off of her. Fears met Circe as she rose to her feet with a swift kick to the head to keep her down, but instead her boot was caught and she was shoved backward into the security cart.

    Circe charged at Fears, missing with her intended shoulder causing her to bash the side of the cart instead, however that was only the start of her predicament. Next up would be a hard whip into the railing of the stairway. Fears treating it like a set of ropes ran after her and leaped in the air with a dropkick that sent Circe through the pipes and hanging over it by her stomach.

    Reaching through she put pressure on the legs forward and wrenched back on Circe’s neck holding her there for several moments, as the cameras swapped back to inside the arena where MJF had just taken down Michelle only to have the taller Melantha yank her up and off her feet, to hurl her across the floor into the equipment crates.

    Couli shouted out in anger for Melantha to collapse the crates on her, to which she served up several hard kicks and shoved box after box forward hoping to crush Mariella. However MJF was quick on her feet and scurried back, rolling to her feet and avoiding the crates as they dropped. Couli however had snuck around to the other side and expecting this very outcome, caught Flair as she turned around with the cain straight to the forehead.

    Then simply shoved her backward, right into a high kick to the back of her head by Melantha, causing her to fall face forward. Couli swung the cane down repeatedly on MJF and pointed over to the discarded one earlier for Melantha. Who then joined her in the rapid strikes to the back, ribs, shoulders, head and legs of Flair.

    Neither person aware of what Circe was up to or how she was faring outside with Fears. Speaking of which… the cameras swapped again back to the outside. Fears no longer had Circe in her clutches, as Circe at that very moment sent a bleeding Fears straight into the camera man. A quick replay showed Circe fighting back in the railing pipes and reaching back to grab Fears head and slammed it forward onto said pipe.

    The connection had split her open and Circe took the advantage to get free and spiked her head a second time on the second railing pipe before hurling her away. Fears came to a stop, not of her own accord, thanks to smacking up against the side door of Couli’s car. Circe charged at her and with sheer force speared her into the car door window, breaking it on impact and sending Fears halfway in the car.

    Circe had a ‘oh shit’ look plastered on her face as she realized whose vehicle that was, but that didn’t stop her from taking several shots at the stuck Fears. Anger ensued and Circe locked Fears head under her arm, and hauled her out of the window, and drove her flat on her face on the concrete as the cameras swapped again.

    Back inside Flair stood over Melantha with a crate in hand, bashing it down across the chest of her while Michelle was off to the side laid out over a preparation table. The replay came to life and showed as Melantha and Michelle struck at her with the cane’s, and MJF caught Melantha’s in her grasp, tripping her up inside the mess of crates, giving her a chance to block Michelle’s and strike at her legs ,then bounding to her feet she blasted her across the back with the cane with rapid shots until it shattered in her grip.

    It wasn’t long after that that Melantha got clocked in the head and served up with several hard shots from those heavy equipment crates. She tossed the crate aside and went for the remaining singapore cane, looking to crack that one over Melantha’s head however soon as she found it and got it in her grasp she was being lifted up and tackled into the tower of crates, courtesy of Circe.

    The stack tumbled and fell along with an assortment of preparation rods and staging equipment, all around and over the two. Couli slapped the table as she shook off the blows and cackled at the sight before her. Making a quick stride over she shifted the boxes around and locating MJF, pulled her forward by the wrist.

    “I told you and the others, WE run this place.” She pulled her up to her feet, and swung her leg over her extended arm, “the rest of you bitches will kneel at my feet.” With that she drove Mariella Flair skull first into the equipment crate with her version of the scissored ddt - BLACKOUT!

    Couli left her there planted on the crate, “Melantha!” She shouted over to the mess and shortly after the taller sister emerged, pulling the round steel object out of her bust, she tossed it to Couli who leaned forward and clipped the steel boot cap on.

    Circe also crawled out of the mess and stumbled over to place her boot across the back of MJF’s neck so Michelle Couli could get some distance from them to begin her sprint for her Lights The Fuck Out kick to the skull.

    It never would come to be as she rushed across the corridor only to have an air-Fears come at her from the side, using the mess of crates for the height. Couli was blasted atop the head and knocked aside. Melantha charged at Fears only to be met with a face from a fist of shards of glass courtesy of Fears shorts pockets.

    Circe stomped down on the back of Flair and warned Fears away, who staggered herself forward, clutching her back and looking to finish what they started as blood seeped from her back and front.

    “About time-” mumbled Mariella, face against the crate, “you got here.”

    Circe stomped down again but this time MJF slipped to the side, causing the boot to miss and Flair yanked it out from under her, tripping Circe up. Shaking off the cobwebs with her own share of the red stuff leaking out of the re-exposed cuts from few months back - Flair pushed up from the crates and waited for Circe to stand and met her with a quick fury of kicks and jabs.

    Couli meanwhile cornered Fears as Melantha confronted her for throwing glass at her. Fears feigned apology, only to have Melantha to strike forward with her Superkick! Fears ducked, or fell, forward, and Couli ate the full force of the kick! The taller Hellion sister couldn’t believe what she had done and Fears took advantage with a leaping kick to the side of the head which she followed with a dropkick that sent Melantha across Couli.

    Meanwhile Circe had failed to keep up with MJF’s strikes and found herself victim of the HOLY EXPERIENCE which she had locked in and held on tight. It wasn’t a match per se, but Circe was tapping for all she was worth as Fears looked on.

    To everyone watching in the arena  and at home, the former 2 Badass for a Name were standing their ground firm, after all those weeks of attacks and escapes.

    A satisfying night and finally some well dealt revenge was had this ni-

    ZNNIHILATION!

    The Tony-Jaa inspired flying knee crushed the side of Fears face, as the dastard known as Zed caught her unaware. Mariella saw this and immediately released Circe, shoving her down forward and went for the rescue. At least that was the plan if not for the massive arms of one Rune catching her from behind and hauling her up in the air.

    MJF struggled to get free as her life was being squeezed out of her by the reverse bearhug. Rune then vaulted her up in the air, and SPIKED her face forward on the ground courtesy of a reverse of his DEFCON-3’s popup catch spinebuster.

    Rune stood next to her while Zed lingered around Fears.

    “Looked like you were having some trouble with these two,” Zed stated while turning around and leaning down to accept Michelle’s hand, pulling her out from under Melantha.

    “Bitches don’t know that their place is to kneel, so a lesson was taught.” Couli said as she stood to her feet, brushing herself off and looking up into Zed’s eyes. “Thanks babe.” And with that much to the distaste of every fan watching she stepped up and the two locked lips in a deep and passionate kiss. Melantha Hellion meanwhile got back to her feet and went to check on her sister. Helping her up, the two turned around to Couli.

    “Dears, why don’t you two go entertain Rune for awhile. We have some matters to discuss.”

    Circe shook the cobwebs from her head and looked up at the taller Hellion in confusion however that was soon no matter as Rune scooped her up and over his shoulder, while doing the same with Melantha. “Bitches come.” stated Rune as the two hung across him and he stomped his way across the floor and down the corridor. Their mouths hung open while Michelle waved at a distance.

    “Mariella,” Couli walked across Fears and over to MJF. Leaning down and pulling her up by her hair to stare into her phased out eyes. “When you and your little friend wake up, we’ll gladly finish this.” She laughed and took a seat while Zed watched over Fears. “This is LEGACY! The star event that supersedes all other events in the pro wrestling industry. My bae isn’t even on the card, and neither are we. So tell you what girl,” she forcibly twisted her head to stare up at her, “when you’re done napping and your friend’s stopped hacking up her lungs, go find yourself some more happygolucky friends and the five of us will finish what we started here with you.”

    She cackled and dropped Flair back down, before grabbing her arm again and executing a second BLACKOUT!

    “Sounds like a plan. The General Manager has continued to deny us our shots here and if we have to take out every single person he knows, then so be it. The marquee tonight should read ZED Versus Lucky Carter for the NBW World Heavyweight Championship. I should be the one in the Main Event every single night and-”

    “Yeah,” Couli interrupted his tirade, “enough about them. That time will come, but for now, let’s go finish what WE started last night.” She smiled as Zed helped steady her on her feet and the two walked on out of the room, just in time for the EMTs and other personnel to arrive to check on Flair and Fears.

    The cameras fading on out elsewhere.

     

    You Will know my Face.

     

    It was the definition of a newsworthy night tonight at Legacy which was No Brand Wrestling’s biggest show in years. The NBW World title was up for grabs between the hard working fan favorite Lucky Carter and the two time former champion “King of Hell” Derecho. One of the marquee matches would determine who would get the next title shot against the winner of the Legacy main event and one of those two men was now standing with the beautiful Adria Hoyt.

    “Hello,” Adria said with a grin. “Coming up in just a few moments we have one of the marquee matches of Legacy! It will be a Number One Contender’s match pitting two men with a tremendous and violent history. I have with me Fenton Woods and his client – “The Monster of the Mid-South” Warren Spade.”

    Fenton Woods casually strolled up to Adria and tipped his carnival barker hat in her direction.

    “Darling thank you for this time!” said Fenton. “All right, big man, let’s do this!”

    The camera moved next to both Adria and Fenton before moving upwards to the face of Warren Spade. In addition to his regular attire he had on a black shirt with “You Will Know My Face” written out on the front and Fenton made sure to tug on it and show the new shirt off.

    “Welcome gentlemen,” said Adria. “My first question is this – tonight you will be facing Spike Saunders and look to close the book on a very long story between the two of you. What’s going through your minds right now?”

    Fenton was about to speak for his client as usual but then Warren interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder.

    “Adria, you weren’t in the company when we had the last Legacy show a few years ago, were you?” asked Warren.

    “I was not,” replied Adria.

    “Let me tell you what happened: I went after Spike Saunders because back around that time, he was the premier giant in this place. He was what many called the best big man wrestler in NBW history so I targeted him because I wanted to prove how false that was. At the last Legacy show NBW had – I defeated him in a steel cage. I didn’t do it on my own. I had help from Tremoid and Fenton Woods, but I beat him in a cage. I won but looking back on that now – I was so obsessed with being the best that it made me a piece of shit. I had a two-year undefeated streak, but never won gold in that time because all I was obsessed with was ending the career of Saunders. I don’t want to be the man I used to be.”

    “You fought Spike in a number of matches, did you not?” asked Adria.

    “Yeah,” said Warren. “I beat him in most of those except for our final encounter when he handed me my first loss. I left after that and everybody knows by now what happened. I was not well – I had cancer that was found early and thankfully I was given a second chance. When I got a clean bill of health and got back into fighting shape, NBW was the first place that I came back to because it was my home.  I will <I>not</I> squander this opportunity by being the piece of shit that I was before. I don’t care if Saunders believes me anymore. I’ll make him a believer tonight when I beat him once and for all - on my own - then I go on to win my first World title from either Derecho or Carter. You will know my face along with the greats of NBW history and the first step starts tonight.”

    Fenton pointed his finger at the shirt he was wearing.

    That is what this shirt is about, Adria,” said Fenton. “You want to market things, you put your face out there. You’ll all get to the face of the next Number One Contender and then you’ll see your next NBW World champion!”

    Adria looked confused.

    “I … I don’t see a face on that shirt.”

    Fenton looked at Warren. “Warren?”

    Warren flipped the front of the shirt inside-out.  He put it over his face and underneath it was an animated version of the growling face of the Monster of the Mid-South!

    “Look at this face, Spike,” said Fenton. “Spike, we’ve been trying to earn your respect for weeks, but we’re through playing that game. To get to the future, we’re putting our past behind us and after tonight, you, Lucky Carter, Derecho, and everybody else will know this face!”

    The One-Man Stampede flipped his shirt down and the two departed the stage.

     

    A-List Versus The Entertainers

     

    Let's go back to the beginning:  2014 and Wrestlecade II, jOlt's showpiece, was in Tokyo.  As was El Principe, set to take on talented technician and the hardest-working guy in the game, Gordon Patrick, during the 3-day Xperience before the big event.

    Darren Best and Alfie Button had record a victory to keep their jobs.  They attacked El Principe, sent him packing and he was never seen again.  Best stepped in to substitute for the Mexican and overcame Gordon.  The Entertainers went on to win the Sin City Series, challenge The House for the straps and do a reasonable job in the end.

    Added to that, A-List were taking teams out in the 10 to 1 at Eternal Judgment, legitimately and illegally, until The Entertainers turned up and stuck it to Principe again.

    The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre may've been forgiven for believing they had his number.  They seemed to.

    And it escalated even further when Principe, not too discreetly, got up to his customary chicanery at Scorched in the triple threat tag team match, also featuring The Players.  Eventually, the official, encouraged by cheerleader Darren Best, disqualified Principe and Price after a few too many warnings and left it to The Players and Entertainers to settle who'd meet The Unstoppables.

    After The Entertainers' failed bid, A-List saw the ideal opportunity to strike and they did, laying Best and Button out.

    Since then, Principe attained some satisfaction by beating Button a month ago and more recently, Best atoned for Alfie's failure, seeing off Price and exacting revenge for a pinfall defeat to Victor in a triple threat, singles this time, ahead of Eternal Judgment.

    We're done with that.  Onto the extravagant entrances these outfits insist on.  I don't know whose is more farcical.

    ME's rap song with the same title brings out a competitor with that very name - Darren Best.

    Two hands aloft, sporting blue full-length tights with white text bearing his name, Darren is rewarded with a really good reception.  Oh wait...

    'Let Me Entertain You.'

    Joining Darren, the cocky Cockney, Alfie Button.

    "This next tag team match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, at a combined weight of four hundred and thirty seven pounds, they are the team of Darren Best and Alfie Button... THE ENTERTAINERS!"

    Waggling all of his fingers, clearly seeking attention and actually attaining it, Alfie playfully barges into Best, who doesn't budge, from behind.  Upon doing it a second time, Best responds by looking and Alfie's index finger instructs him to gaze up at the big screen.

    "Vic and Principe will pay the price."

    Clever, eh?

    Afterwards, Alfie storms to the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope and onto the top turnbuckle in the lower right-hand corner of the ring, where he gains more acclaim from an appreciative audience.  He urges Darren to join him, but the more level-headed member of the pair takes him time; a stark contrast to the psyched-up Englishman, who leaps off the turnbuckle with a bounce and a distinct swagger in his step, blurring the lines between arrogance and intensity.  Either way, The Entertainers are raring to go.

    "And their opponents-"

    Backstage, we see the duo of El Principe and VIP leave their private locker room and make the short walk to the curtains where a couple of guards salute them and march towards the ringside area.  Waiting there, and we're talking about a matter of yards, is a limousine.  One of the guards hands the esteemed individuals over to a chauffeur, who opens the door for them to get in.

    Ridiculously slow and short, the driver escorts them for ten seconds or so prior to getting out himself and holding the door yet again, this time for the ego-inflated outfit to step out.

    A red carpet leading to the steps is trodden by the twosome, Principe in front, and they wipe their feet again before the ring is graced with THEIR presence.

    "-at a combined weight of four hundred seventy eight pounds, they are the team of Victor Ingram Price and El-"

    The chauffeur was brushed aside, Williams cut off, as Best and Button couldn't wait to get at Principe and Price.  Alfie dragged the Mexican out of the car while Darren actually went into the limo to wail away at VIP in the backseat, a frenetic start that our supporters appeared to appreciate.

    "I PITY THA FOOL!"
    "I PITY THA FOOL!"

    Two rock-hard European Uppercuts prompted further audience interaction.  An Irish Whip paved the way for an 'AY' and...

    A Superkick!

    Expect to see more of those.  Meanwhile, Best had VIP by the spoiled brat's long locks and rammed said head off the barricade before unleashing a mini Snake Eyes onto the railing as well.

    Alfie rolled Principe in, who wanted a time-out.  He got a second Superkick for his troubles, and it must've hurt more in a kneeling stance.

    Not that Button was done.  He grabbed Principe and took him for a ride, shades of the late Randy Savage, oh yeah...

    Cliffhanger.

    The Hair-Pull Hangman was effective and Principe fell back upon impact, Button taking a bow before hurrying back in.  Best delivered Price's head into the apron and whipped him...

    Only to see it reversed and take a tumble into the ring stairs instead, marking A-List's first offensive move between them.  The ref slid out and instructed Ingram to go to his corner.  He did as he was told, but not before sneaking in a sly kick en route.

    Alfie waited for Principe to stand up, set off and BAM!

    That's what he calls the Springboard Reverse Elbow and boy, does he execute it exquisitely.

    1...

    2..
    .just about.

    "I PITY THA FOOL"
    "I PITY THA FOOL."

    Then, Alfie turned away, ran to the ropes again, and this time, it cost him...

    Wheelbarrow Backbreaker by Principe!  Cracking counter!

    Eager to get even, Principe proceeded to rake Button's back and took his telling off well for once.  Not that he showed any remorse.

    He tied Alfie up with a ten-a-penny Hammerlock, though it was the gateway to another Backbreaker.  Principe is starting to get warmed up.

    Just as I said that, he booted Button in the head and tagged Price in.  A canny choice in all honesty.  Like always, Vic pointed at  Alfie, who was in a compromising position, and indicated the Englishman was nothing.  The crowd vociferously begged to differ. Vic would have to prove otherwise.  The humbling defeat to Best hadn't humbled him at all!

    A third Backbreaker in about a minute did damage, how could it not, and a Belly-to-Back Suplex set the table.

    Ingram enjoyed himself a bit too much, posing, and fell flat on his face - literally - courtesy of missing a Kneedrop.  Alfie was out of there, performing a forward roll and while it may not have been brilliant for his back, it got him out of a tight spot and in a position to tag Darren.

    Best ran in - and straight into trouble.  After a moment of silliness, Vic had his brain switched back on and cut the New York native off with a Drop Toehold that transitioned into a Front Facelock.

    He didn't miss on the third move this time:  Snap Suplex.

    1...

    "Do your job!"

    Uh-oh.  Someone's not pleased with the official's conduct.  Notwithstanding, Ingram was still in control and planted Darren in the middle of the ring with no regard, via a Scoop Slam.

    Somewhat surprisingly, Price picked to exit right and perched himself on the top rope, seemingly seeking a Slingshot DDT.

    Seemingly.

    Northern Lights Suplex by Best!

    Brilliant rebuttal.

    1...

    2....


    Vic sought to reverse fortunes and ended up with egg on his face as he ate the Drop Toehold and Facelock combination from Best!

    Unhappy, Ingram's temper rose and he banged away at Best's midsection with a couple of terrific punches, pushing Darren back into the corner and leading to a clean break.

    No such thing with VIP.  From point blank range, he released a stern elbow and ignored the referee, laying it on thick with another four elbows and a trio of stomps.  Best was laid out in the corner.

    Everyone knew it.

    Price took three paces back and honoured Darren with his derogatory Bronco Buster...

    A Brush with Greatness!

    Ingram was pleased with himself and posed.  Unfortunately for him, he took a bit too long, probably because he wasn't thinking straight amongst the heat he was getting.

    When he turned round, he was subjected to a boot to the stomach, a barrage of blows...Best of Both!!

    It would've been had Vic not had his wits about him, dug his heels in and stubbornly fell to the ground.  Darren threw a few shots to the spine so Ingram wouldn't gain much rest and brought him back to a vertical base.  This exchange wasn't over.

    While Price was so wary of Best of Both, he swallowed a DDT!

    1...

    2..
    .

    It's taken a little longer than expected, and he didn't even get started on it in their head-to-head clash most recently, but Best picked apart at Price's arm, weakening the strongest man in the match and possibly setting Best Submission Ever up later.

    Two, three Arm Wringers.  Darren dragged Victor towards The Entertainers' half of the ring and tagged out to Alfie, who entered in style with an Axe Handle to the targeted limp from the top rope.  An Arm Wringer of his own meant Alfie was building on Darren's handiwork.

    A rake to the face spat on all that had preceded it and if you think that changed things...

    RED CARPET TREATMENT!

    And it did pay off for Price this time.  Yes, Vic had hurt his arm while pulling the Flatliner off, but he was still in a position to put Alfie away.

    Desperately, Darren broke the cover up.  Ingram was annoyed and told the official so, though he was also more bothered about getting a rest, hence his reason for bringing Principe in, who must have been happy to inherit this situation.  The Mexican was used to inheritance, after all.

    He tried his luck by going straight for the fall on an unconscious and oblivious Alfie...

    Uno

    Dos...


    Try again!

    Principe exaggeratedly flung his arms in the air, again implying the official couldn't do his job correctly.  I reckon that's harsh.  Anyway, it was time for Principe to highlight what he specialised in.

    Prolonging punishment and suffering with his ground-based game.  For me, he should be looking for Crowning Moment, unleashing two of them on the poor Englishman a month ago, but another part of me thinks he wants to punish Alfie for spoiling his time in jOlt and terminating it prematurely, not to mention raining on A-List's parade at Eternal Judgment, when they appeared to be in the ascendancy in the 10 to 1 bonanza.

    A Backbreaker was succeeded by a Backbreaker Hold.  Both logical and hurtful, pouring the pain on.

    After several seconds of rejections by Alfie refusing to lie down, Principe cheekily tried a cover that resulted in two, no point in beating around the George, and it got worse.

    Principe questioned the count again, smacking his own hand three times.  The ref reminded him of the real count by replicating the peace sign.

    Returning to the action, a whip to the buckle saw Button smack spine-first and cause him to keel over in pain.  Principe then proceeded to turn him round, firing away with three hard shots, all to that sore spot.  Alfie was now face-first on the bottom turnbuckle and in a lonely place, far away from home and a dejected Darren.  This match was going the way A-List had planned after a bright start by the Brit and his buddy.

    The heir brought Button to the bottom rope...Seated Back Senton.  He then placed Alfie on the middle rope...

    Leapfrog Body Guillotine.  From the middle rope to the middle of the ring, Principe ordered the ref to count as he place the sole of his boot on the Londoner's beating chest...

    1....

    2....


    No way, Jose.

    Hands on hips.  Again, Principe was pissed off! 

    At least, A-List had slowed things down and set the pace that they wanted to operate at.  Price was poised to return.  Tag.

    Adding insult to potential injury, a Standing Backbreaker and a show of no regard with a toss that looked like Vic was throwing some gum in the bin was met with an equally nonchalant cover, barely any weight on Alfie's anatomy and counting along with the official.  Thankfully, it only got to two.

    Darren was anxious to put it mildly.  He needn't have been.  When Price sent Button into the ropes, the Englishman ducked underneath, his superior speed in spite of a bad back telling...

    Tilt-a-whirl Backbreaker!

    Yes, they're screwed.

    "COUNT," Ingram barked.

    One...

    Two...


    No!

    Hands on his knees and shaking his head, Ingram was illustrating his displeasure.  Regardless, being professional for once, he got on with it and set Alfie up superbly in fairness...

    Uranage Backbreaker!

    One...

    Two...


    Nearest fall yet!

    "I'm starting to get pissed off with you," Ingram informed the official, daring to shove him.  Price was then warned that wouldn't be tolerated.  Remarkably, Vic told the ref to relax!  Can you believe this guy?

    Still firmly in control...

    "I PITY THA FOOL!"
    "I PITY THA FOOL!"

    A glimmer of hope...

    ...followed by a knee to the ribs and a sledge to the back! 

    And a tag meant Principe was with us again.  He would minimise the risks and errors even more than Ingram.  He set about Alfie with the second Back Rake of the bout.

    Principe ushered Alfie towards the corner and tagged out quickly.  Wow, that was fast!  It was a means to an end.  Vic climbed to the second rope as Principe put Button in the Backbreaker Hold!

    Diving Kneedrop by Price!  RISE TO FAME by A-List!  Would it lead to a rise in the rankings and a shot of our Dynasty Tag Team championship clash later on?

    One...

    Two...


    Best cut the Mexican off!  In Spanish, Principe was swearing and going off his nut.  Don't forget that he was disciplined for doing the same last month and it was Best who'd led the charge to get him disqualified, so I have a shred of sympathy.

    Principe prepared Alfie for a Dragon Screw Leg Whip, changing focus a little...

    Big mistake!

    Enzuigiri counter by the Englishman!

    That gave the Entertainers and the audience hope.  Darren started a chorus of clapping, thousands joined in, trying to resurrect Alfie and with him, their chances of securing a second title shot.

    Alfie was still down and the member of Mexican wrestling royalty cut the Cockney off with two hard axes to the back, going with what he knew was in the bank.

    Powerbomb....Ratings Slump!

    That was Button's DDT counter from the Powerbomb position, you'd think these people would learn, but the fans cheered as Principe kicked the canvas in discomfort, allowing Alfie some room to breathe as Price and Best looked on eagerly, hopeful of altering this all-important encounter.

    Of course, Principe got to Price first, but Button was also close to the corner.  Would we have two complete changes?

    Yes!

    Price met Best with a knee to the ribs, but like two shows ago, Best anticipated it and rolled through, rolling Price up.  Like then, he got 2.

    Principe, who we'd just got rid of, returned pretty sharply and it appeared the official might lose control of this.  The meddling Mexican got a Dropkick to the mush, sending him back where he came from.  As Best came back up, Price halted the New Yorker's fire with a hard shot to the mouth, suspiciously resembling a fist.  Nautrally, Price protested his innocence.  Somehow, he convinced the official and then wandered into three Japanese-like shots to the side of the head. They wobbled Ingram considerably.

    Speaking of Japan...

    Backdrop Driver!  One of Best's best moves!

    One...

    Two...


    Time for Principe to stick his oar in, as Best had, courtesy of a kick to the pectoral area.  Best, like everyone, had had enough of the second generation wrestler and with a couple of almighty shots, sent Principe up and over the top rope, much to the audience's delight.  It's amazing how that can still work crowds all these years later.

    Price got sent spiralling towards the Entertainers' area and Best unloaded with a super Corner Splash!

    Button was back in.  Dropsault!  Truly beautiful.  Smart?  Well, you'd have to ask him, especially now he's favouring his spine.

    He gritted his teeth and lit the crowd up.

    I PITY THA FOOL
    I PITY THA FOOL
    I PITY THA FOOL

    Three tremendous European Uppercuts and a Hiptoss by the Brit put Price in a prone position.  As quickly as he could, considering the circumstances, the Cockney left to go north...

    COME ON DOWN!!!

    His phenomenal Frogpump Elbow!

    One...

    Two...


    No, sir!

    He sat Price up and went to the second rope.

    Cut.  It.  Out.

    Basement Reverse Elbow.  Superkick to the back of the head!  Alfie, whose back was clearly bothering him, told Best they'd need to switch.  He walked over and tagged Darren, who didn't complain on this occasion, as he had in the past when his partner fancied a rest.

    Instead, Best went up top.  The Flying Headbutt had worked earlier.  Could it succeed again?

    No, it couldn't.  Darren missed and the crowd seemed genuinely shocked that he hadn't pulled it off, a collective grasp reverberating around the arena, and Alfie most of all.

    Momentarily, the Londoner covered his face.  Then, he forgave and forgot, dumping his disappointment in the nearest garbage can and clapping, encouraging, supporting and imploring Darren, just as his partner had done for him.  They were united and the fans were on their side.

    Darren and Victor stood up.  Best swung first, then VIP and they went back and forth, three apiece, until Best blocked Price's fourth right and the Entertainer took charge with a kick, an Arm Wringer and Irish Whip, but Vic reversed that and responded with a boot to the gut...

    Red Carpet Treatment!  By PRICE this time!

    Surely, it had to be over.

    One...

    Two...


    Alfie Button, COME ON DOWN!

    He demonstrated a gorgeous reconstruction of that five-star Frogpump Elbow, sprinkling in substance to support its unquestionable style.

    The fans loved it, but not as much as what happened next.

    Principe wandered in to accuse the referee of being unprofessional.

    Is it a bird?

    Is it a plane?

    "Ay."

    NO, IT'S A SUPERKICK!

    Right on the jaw!

    That shut Principe the fuck up and some fans lost their shit.

    Alfie didn't.

    When Vic came over to the corner and pushed Alfie, provoking him, he got a...

    SUPERKICK!

    Smarting, the victim of much suffering in this match was the only man standing.  I lie.  As he left, hundreds, perhaps thousands were, commending the Cockey.

    Where were we?

    Best and Price were out of it.  A count commenced and the crowd continued clapping, not just Button, but all four individuals, even though it was clear who they backed in this two-horse race to clinch the number one contenders' spot.

    Alfie asked them to increase the volume a notch or two and they obliged him.  Principe was, by contrast, lifeless on the apron.

    Vanderart:  "CG, do you pity tha fool?"

    A glare was shot in her direction.  She blanked her co-commentator.  The count reached 8.  Predictably, Price got to his feet just before Best and looked for more Red Carpet Treatment.  Best second-guessed that and as soon as Price lined him up for it, Vic went into a neutral corner's middle buckle, back-first.

    Best of Both, but Ingram evades that and socks Darren with another stiff right!  These two are so wary of each other's signatures and seem to know each other that well, this early on in their careers.

    A Lariat by Vic went missing yet unreported as Ingram kept on sprinting.  That was until Best relieved him of his vertical base with an elbow...

    And a Fireman's Carry Gutbuster!

    We have Alfie again.  Tag.

    One Frogsplash!

    Alfie straddled straight over to the opposite corner after turning Ingram over, ironically exposing the Californian's back...

    Second Frogsplash, hence completing...Action Replay!

    Would it be shown as the match-winning manoeuvre?

    One...

    Two...

    Thre...
    .easy, tiger!

    Heart-in-your-mouth - and that was just for the paying public.  Imagine how Alfie and Darren must've felt, only for Ingram to hang in there, albeit on life support.

    By hurting Vic's back, Alfie may just have aggravated his own.  Principe was back in the corner, still cutting a drunken figure like Flanagan, but in the world of the living, which could not always be said of the Irishman.

    HEEEERE'S ALFIE!

    Stunning Shooting Star Press!

    One...

    Two...


    Vic is still alive!

    Credit to the Hollywood-born prick, who's putting up a heck of a fight and one that far surpasses his recent defeat to Darren.  You could tell this match counted, really mattered and that was to all four of them.

    A slam took more out of Alfie than Vic, as Button fell suddenly, clutching his spine.  Again, he gestures towards Darren and comes out of there, receiving applause like a footballer being substituted.

    Miraculously, despite an ordeal recently, Vic grabbed Button's left leg in a last-ditch attempt to isolate the Englishman once and for all.

    Never!

    He stopped the tag, tripped Best and Vic was the one escaping, not Alfie, as he handed the Londoner over to El Principe.

    Our heir knew where to go and he didn't deviate!  Three horrible axes to the back and a Seated Senton to the back, double it, no, treble it.

    A Delayed Backbreaker.

    One...

    Two...


    Alfie expended vital energy on that.  Principe was calm and composed, firing Alfie into the ropes, who offered a sign of hope by avoiding the Clothesline.  Unexpectedly, El Principe's reflexes were superior to Button's for once as he thought on his feet and took Alfie off his with a Dropkick to the knee.

    No pauses now.  All systems go.

    Knee-Clutched Boston Crab.

    Alfie shook his head several times.  How could he cope with this?  Oddly, Principe broke it up, answering that question, only to set up a Mexican Surfboard!

    Again, Button persisted with the drill, denying appeals to throw it all away at this stage.  After several seconds, Principe, content at least, kicked Alfie up into the air and opted for a pin rather than submission.

    Uno...

    Dos...


    Try again, Principe!

    He would and not on my say-so.  A Kneebreaker, not one of those again, led to a Belly-to-Belly Suplex, which was the beginning of the end for the Englishman when these two clashed weeks ago, even if it were from the summit.

    1...

    2...
    .

    Close!  It almost resulted in a similar outcome.

    Would a Blue Thunder Bomb be the tonic?

    No...change the channel!  Canal Plus, a Poisoned Frankensteiner, saved the day as it had done for Darren earlier, in what now seemed to be a long time ago.

    Let's fast-forward the count.  You're not falling for a draw.  It terminated and a slugfest between Button and Principe had some sections on the edge of their seats.  Alfie was coming out on top, dominating 4-2, when he turned to tag out...

    Shot to the spine by Principe and all of that changed as Darren saw Alfie stoop, like a gunshot victim.

    Principe pointed the finger at Best, who was minding his business until Principe got in his face and shoved the New Yorker, which was a ploy Best didn't buy until the Mexican waggled his index finger in his face and then...

    The referee tried to separate them.  Best, raging, felt his blood pressure go through the roof as he saw Price pick Button in on the other side, the sly shit smiling as he did so and sticking it to Alfie with a Last Ride, which it might just be.

    That's the VIP Treatment!

    Best went MENTAL at the official, who was not paying attention to his begging and intent on seeing the well-rounded wrestler out.

    Guerrilla Clutch by Principe!!!  Surely, this was curtains.  Alfie braved and battled desperately as the audience, one final time, tried to get Keegan's student into the game again.  It seemed to be having an effect yet at the same time, every occasion Alfie rallied, Principe tightened his iron grip on this move, a specialty of his. 

    Button's hand was cocked and locked, ready to release and relieve the unbearable pain, but he didn't when the audience implored him not to with a roar.  The referee continued to ask, but the brash Brit lost the will and ability to keep rebuffing him. His head dropped.  Was he unconscious or was this his method of managing the impossible pain he was under?

    A camera shot suggested it could be the former.  The referee raised his hand and it went down HEAVILY.

    Second time...it was the same.

    Would it be a case of third time lucky?

    It would!

    Not.

    The disbelief on Darren Best's face summed the story up when the referee waved it off and the bell sounded to signify the end of a captivating clash.

    "Your winners of this match... VIP and El Principe... The ALIST!"

    Principe relinquished and was greeted by a chuffed VIP.  They vacated, celebrating, there'd be no chauffeur out, but there didn't need to be as they had an exclusive invitation to a grand ball - they'd take on the champs, whoever they were, in a short while.

    Amidst boos from the audience, VIP and El Principe raised their arms and ran off into the night.  They'd taken their revenge on Button and Best, who had got them disqualified the last time we were on pay-per-view and besides one or two moments, A-List, unlike then, had got their strategy spot on.  What a contrast to Scorched.

    CG Gains, the only guy in the arena who was delighted with the decision, quipped:  "Yes, Melissa, I do PITY THA FOOL! HA HA HA!!!"

    He wasn't the only one.  As Alfie came round, Best aided his other half in getting up to receive a great ovation.  They exchanged manly pats, not on the back given Alfie's problems, apt given the courageous performance they'd put in.  Boys in jOlt.  In a short space of time, they'd matured into men in nbW.

    Even though they had lost, you felt they would come again.  Unfortunately, they'd come up against an excellent unit this evening, a team that had got it tactically right.

    A-List deserved an A.

     

    Face-To-Face w/ Trent McKnight

     

    Four years ago, Keegan sat down with a smug 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs ahead of their all-important all-or-nothing clash for Vince's Keystone and World belts while Keegan put his wrestling career up.

    The brave Brit was banished to retirement.  He has, however, reappeared a couple of times and was challenged to a fight inside The Zone at Legacy by John C. Willis, his younger step-brother.

    Ahead of their scrap inside the steel structure later on this evening, a pre-taped interview conducted by Trent McKnight a few days ago was being aired to give some background to an on-and-off rivalry that was into its second decade.

    Take it away, Trent:  "Tonight, the fourth fight between former three-time Fighting Zone champion, Keegan, and John C. Willis, his half-brother and former TFZ champion himself, takes place.  Gentlemen, welcome."

    Our host gestured for the battle-hardened pair to sit down.  Willis smiled:  "Do we call murderers gentlemen?"

    Keegan shook McKnight's hand, ignoring that jibe and then sat across from his smiling and sadistic stepsibling:  "Keep smiling, John."

    McKnight playfully requested a handshake.  He got nothing, except for a dirty glare from Keegan, in return:  "Move on."

    So Trent did:  "Keegan, it's been four years since you sat there, opposite 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs.  We know the result that night.  Why will it be a different outcome this time round?"

    Mentally, K clicked in:  "Different environment and a different opponent.  I'm not wrestling the world's best wrestler and I'm not fighting the best fighter on the planet.  I'm against someone I know, someone I've beaten two out of three.  In fact, I don't know why we're here and don't you dare tell me it's about murder or we'll flip this table over here and now," Keegan declared, pointing at the powerhouse across from him, who responded with that trademark, toothless grin.

    McKnight gestured for Special K to sit down and make himself comfortable:  "He's physically strong..."

    His compatriot interjected, buttoning his shirt up as he sat down:  "But mentally weak," Keegan reckoned, pointing to his noggin again.

    Turning his attention to John, Trent brought the beast into it:  "John, why are you here?"

    Special K shook his head as Willis sat up straight:  "Many, many reasons."

    "Like?"

    Looking his elder brother in the eye, John licked his lips:  "You'll find out in time.  You've got many enemies and a short memory, Keegan."

    Smarting, Special K stated:  "You've got a snail's brain and the face of a Yorkshire Terrier sipping tequlia.  You've not got the IQ to put anything together.  You're a henchman, hired muscle, a mug and you're getting knocked the fuck out.  That I DO know."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah, really.  John, cut to the chase.  If you're here because I've beaten you twice, say so.  If you're here because I supposedly killed someone who you were mates with for a while, come out and say it.  I didn't.  But even if I did, the two of you threw me twenty feet of a cage and practically broke my back.  We forget about that...."

    Laughing, Willis wanted to wind his opposition up further:  "We broke your heart too, didn't we?"

    Pointing and smirking to himself, Keegan couldn't contain his amusement or annoyance:  "See, that's not you.  Someone's pulling the strings here.  You don't say things like that.  You're not bright enough, offence intended."

    "Keegan, you've been all around the world and committed crimes in different countries.  You're gonna pay for them real soon, starting with Legacy.  That's your legacy."

    Puzzled, Special K shot a strange look back:  "Trent, next question.  No, in fact, I doubt we're related at all.  Have I ever said that?  Look at my handsome bracket compared to that pig-ugly puss over there.  Who removed your teeth?  Oops.  That would be me.  Two-one, John.  You've got no business coming back.  Sure, you're strong, hit hard and what-have-you, but you've got no heart, no bollocks and no wits about you.  You're an idiot, someone's puppet and once I've brayed you, I'll go through whoever has sent you because I always have the last word.  Always."

    "Oh yeah?"

    The Newcastle native nodded:  "Always.  That's MY legacy.  Pleasure, Trent," Special K said, standing up and leaving, fed up of Willis, who sat there and smiled. 

    Had he just struck a psychological blow?  He nodded his head when McKnight thanked him and could go away believing he wasn't mentally weak as Special K had insinuated, but in a better frame of mind than his brother and inside Keegan's head.

     

    Tailgating Donnybrook

     

    Outside of the arena in the parking lot, a tailgating party had assembled.  Jonny Bedlam, who was always the ringleader behind these events, stood in a group of three people.  All sipped from plastic cups.  Many laughs rang out through the lot.

    “So, Jonny, you had a pretty good bout the other week.  You got anything else on the horizon?” a woman in the group surrounding Jonny asked.

    “Jan, nothing yet.  I guess I’m not making enemies quickly enough in this promotion.  Haha.”  Jonny responded.

    “Well, maybe you’ll just end up being the Party Planner in No Brand.  Seems like a gig you could handle,” another as yet unknown man said.

    “Well Joe, that could save a lot on my medical bills for sure.  I wouldn’t complain too much.”

    The assembled group chuckled.  Many more laughs were heard throughout the lot.  Two people  were not in a laughing mode though at the entrance to the parking lot.

    “WHO ARE ALL THESE TRASH?” a voice demanded rudely.  The voice belonged to Big Rick Strongbern.  Big Rick and his behemoth bodyguard Little Ricky came into view.

    “I dunno, Rick.  Looks like a party,” Little Ricky responded.

    “OF COURSE IT IS, YOU DOLT! THE VERY IDEA THAT NBW WOULD ALLOW SUCH A GROUP OF INBREDS TO ENJOY THEMSELVES S SUCH INSULTS MY SENSIBLITIES. LET'S SEE WHO'S AT THE HEAD OF THIS!”

    Rick and Ricky wandered through the cars and groups of partiers, occasionally being offered a shot or a grilled meat.  Ricky tried to accept a couple of the offerings, only to have them slapped away by Rick.  “DON'T INDULGE THESE SISTERFUCKERS, RICKY! LORD ONLY KNOWS THE CONTENTS OF THEIR MEATS!”

    Rick and Ricky finally came upon Jonny and his circle. 

    “OHH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT RICKY, IT'S JORDY BETHLEHEM. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SUCH A DUNCE WOULD BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS NONSENSE.”

    Jonny smiled down at Rick.  “Well if it isn’t Strongbern-y Shortcake and his Gal Friday.”

    “YOU SHOULDN'T DARE TO PRESENT ME WITH SUCH INSOLENCE.”

    “What’s a Gal Friday?” asked Ricky.

    Jonny looked at the people assembled around him.  “You guys are going to have to excuse me for a moment.  Please, drink up though.  Enjoy yourselves.”

    Jonny’s group quickly disbanded, leaving Jonny, Ricky, and Rick standing alone.

    “Can I get you two a drink?”

    “NO, I DO NOT COME TO WORK AND IMBIBE ALCOHOL!”

    “Actually, I wouldn’t mind…” Ricky interjected.

    “AND NEITHER DO YOU!  NOT ON MY TIME RICKY!”

    “All right boss.”

    “All right, so no drinkypoos for either one of you.  Why are you two out here then?”

    “WE ARE OUT HERE TO PUT A STOP TO THIS NONSENSE. I REFUSE TO WORK FOR A WRESTLING PROMOTION THAT BROOKS THIS SORT OF TOMFOOLERY!”

    “Ahh, gotta love that G.E.D. try-hard vocabulary of someone who reads ‘Great Books’ and educates themselves largely via Wikipedia,” Jonny fired back smirkingly.

    “WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT BEDLAM?” 

    “Ohh nothing, little one.  Nothing at all.  You two have fun.  I’m not wasting any more time on you.”  Jonny reached down and pat Rick on the head and began to walk away.
     
    Rick’s rage began to visibly boil over as Jonny began to walk back towards the party.  Rick charged at Jonny, while Ricky followed him in his lumbering gait.  Rick moved low and leaped at Jonny, trying to get a rear double leg takedown, but Jonny spinned away at the last moment, which sent Rick scraping along the asphalt of the parking lot.  Ricky was there a few moments later, and Jonny stared up at the giant bodyguard, calculating.

    Ricky charged at Jonny, tried to deliver an enormous Yakuza kick and Jonny moved to the side, dropped to one knee and punched Ricky directly in the Pork and Beans, making the giant fall to his side mid kick.  At this point, some of the partiers had gathered round the violent encounter. 

    Jonny turned to the crowd and smiled.  They cheered as Little Ricky writhed in pain, but quickly changed expression.  They all began to yell at Jonny in warning, but it was far too late as he was hit in the back of the head with an empty barbecue plate, recently emptied of meat, by an angry and scraped up Rick.  The plate shattered and Jonny stumbled onto his knees  Rick Strongbern cackled in delight.  Ricky was still in tremendous pain, but started to get to his feet.
    The crowd was very unhappy and was beginning to be vocal about it.  Rick and Ricky turned towards them, clearly afraid that things might get out of hand.  The throng had grown larger and left many other areas of the parking lot.  All of a sudden, three people emerged from the crowd that did not resemble the rest and charged quickly at the Strongberns.

    The threesome turned out to be Davey La Rue, SPARK, and Ai Tso, who had recently showed up and been enjoying the festivities before the fight began.  Davey La Rue had a plastic cup in hand and tossed it into Big Rick’s eyes.  Rick howled in agony, as the liquid was very clear and was likely a very high proof straight alcohol knowing La Rue. 

    SPARK and Ai Tso squared off with the now recovered Little Ricky.  He stared at the two Asian men and they stared back.  Little Ricky charged first and attempted a double clothesline on SPARK and Ai Tso, both ducking underneath his outstretched arms.  Ricky then stumbled, but kept his footing and faced them again.  Ai Tso and SPARK chuckled at the lumbering lummox.  This was foolish though, as they were given a nasty surprise.  While they’d been engaged with Ricky, two men had ascended the hoods of two vehicles and both leaped off of them and delivered dropkicks to the backs of their heads in tandem.  These two men turned out to be Taylor Smith and Peter Pham, or the HMMS. 

    Davey La Rue had a writhing Rick Strongbern in a headlock and was giving him a wedgie at the same time.  Rick screamed repeatedly in embarrassment and his eyes still burned.  As La Rue was doing this, the third member of the Handsome Man Modeling School, Benny Reyes snuck up behind him with a bat and took a swing at La Rue’s back, causing him to break his grip.  At this, Big Rick scampers away.  La Rue began to trade blows and wrestled with Reyes. 

    Ai Tso and SPARK are clutching the back of their heads as they are kicked savagely by the HMMS on the ground.  Jonny was back on his feet, a slight amount of blood welling from the back of his head, and took off at Smith and Pham, who then scampered away from their kicking.  Jonny helped Ai Tso and SPARK to their feet.

    At this point, NBW security appears and finally manages to separate the bunch into two sides, with assistance from the crowd.  The factions began to swear at each other while being held apart. 

    Jonny turned to three men who came to assist him, “Guys, you mind if I join in on your match a little later against these tubs of shit?  I think I could add a little much needed insanity to the match, and I wanna tear that sawed off prick Strongbern to pieces.”

    All three members of Different Breed nodded back at him.  La Rue spoke first, “Laissez le bon temps roulez, mon ami.”  He slapped Jonny on the back jovially. “I like de way you party brotha.”

    Jonny stared across the line of people at HMMS and Big Rick.  “How about you Strongbern and Sweet Baby Bitch 1, 2 and 3?  You mind making this a 4 on 4?  I mean, I know Handsome Men Deepthroating School never minds adding another man.  So how about it catfuckers?”

    Big Rick and HMMS growled back and pushed against the security guards in response, then nodded.  “SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT YOU INSOLENT PIECE OF WHITE TRASH!”

    “I’m sorry Rick, try jumping up and down, I couldn’t quite hear you.” 

    The scene faded off back to ringside.

     

    Spike Saunders Versus Warren Spade

    Clash of the Giants

     

    There were many years of history between the two combatants of tonight’s match. While both men appeared to be on the same side (both fan favorites), the deep-seeded issues between them had lasted years going back to 2012 when Warren Spade had beaten Spike Saunders and forced him out of No Brand Wrestling for a long time. Spike Saunders eventually came back and handed the Monster of the Mid-South his first loss and after that, Warren was nowhere to be found.

    Warren Spade disappeared from the spotlight but it had come out that the One-Man Stampede suffered from stage two brain cancer. After the giant received a clean bill of health he was able to train and make a comeback that brought him back to No Brand Wrestling in 2016. Spade had come back and tried to make amends for his past with Saunders, but the Colossus didn’t buy what his old rival was selling. They were able to remain civil as a tag team but when making a play for the Dynasty Tag Team championships, miscommunication led to a loss and led to tonight’s path at Legacy.

    Spike Saunders and Warren Spade wanted one more match with each other in order to put their pasts behind them. To make matters even more interesting, the General Manager Jack Harmen made this match a Number One Contender match for the NBW World Heavyweight title which meant that either Lucky Carter or Derecho would have a giant coming their way after this match. Warren Spade and Spike Saunders had defeated each other in the past but tonight was their most important match yet. Which of the two giants would come out the winner?

    ‘Spike-It-UP!’

    That music meant it was the first of their two massive opponents for the evening and it appeared that the Crimson Tide didn’t seem that concerned. Very few opponents would share that sentiment about a seven-foot three monster, but the Crimson Tide technically had singles victories over Saunders and Spade so they looked very confident even with an angry giant now making his way out.

    “Introducing first from Beverly Hills, California, standing at seven foot three and three hundred thirty-seven pounds... he is the Colossus, SPIKE SAUNDERS!”

    Immediately the crowd rose to their feet and cheered as the seven foot three Colossus walked out through the double doors and made his way down the ramp while Brent Williams introduced Saunders. He wasted little time with the fans this time and simply stepped down to the ring. The crowd was massive tonight. Spike Saunders had been to the mountain top before as a former Keystone and a former NBW World champion and he was eager to get back to the top, but before he could do that he would first have to deal with the Monster of the Mid-South and close the door on a painful chapter of his life.

    “Gather around, everyone, gather around!”

    The arena went dark and a lone spotlight was now on the entryway. Whoever this person was had their back turned to the camera so as to hide his face, but he was a man in jeans, a black coat and a red and white carnival barker hat. He was very short and couldn’t have been any more than five-foot four, but he certainly had a gift of gab. This was Warren Spade’s manager, Fenton Woods!

    “Spike Saunders …”

    Fenton Woods stopped himself from talking any more. This would normally be the point in time where he’d say something witty or something incredibly verbose, but tonight he was all business.

    “Nope … tonight, enough words. Saunders, we’re putting this issue to bed. For Good!!!

    He tapped his cane on the ground and his spotlight disappeared. The crowd was baited with anticipation and when words appeared on the EpiCenter they went crazy.

    MONSTER

    OF THE

    MIDSOUTH


    Warren Spade was here!

    “Deliverance” by Corrosion of Conformity played and The Monster of the Mid-South basked in the reception from the crowd. After enjoying the response, he hunched over to let Fenton Woods ride on his shoulders. The monster who once boasted a two-year undefeated streak in No Brand Wrestling was approaching the ring fast. The large giant from the Mid-South stomped his way toward the ring and locked eyes with the Colossus. Spike Saunders and Warren Spade were now locking eyes yet again. They had traded victories with each other back in 2012 but four years later, both giants were considered to be at the top of their game.

    Only one giant could be the Number One Contender.

    DING

    DING

    DING!!!


    Warren Spade made the first attack when he launched himself right at the Colossus and struck him with a huge running clothesline that didn’t knock him down, but it did send him stumbling backwards intoa nearby corner. The Monster of the Mid-South caught Spike off-guard and the attacked him some more.

    Chop!

    Punch!

    Chop!

    Punch!

    Chop!

    Punch!

    Chop!

    Punch!

    Chop!

    Punch!

    “Get him! Show him who the one true giant of NBW is!” yelled Fenton Woods.

    Warren had taken Spike into a corner and rubbed the heel of his foot on the ground like he was preparing for a charge. The crowd knew what was coming next after that and this was only the start of the match …

    THE TRAMPLE~!

    The One-Man Stampede had used his mammoth spear to take Saunders to the ground! It was a move that Saunders had been beaten with a long time ago when the two giants had last waged war and just like that, Warren could end this quickly!

    1 …

    2 …


    KICK OUT BY SAUNDERS!!!

    It was a very good attempt to beat the Colossus off the bat that he did not see coming, but Saunders was a very tough giant to defeat. Warren grunted and walked back up to his feet and took Spike with him. A few more punches sent him back to the corner and another charging clothesline was enough to send Spike Saunders flying over the ropes and to the floor below! Warren stomped across the ring like he owned and then he climbed over the ropes to greet Saunders on the floor.

    The Monster of the Mid-South struck a blow on the recovering Saunders by punching him in the face. He then attempted a massive irish whip that would have surely sent Spike Saunders heading into the barricade.

    However …

    *CRASH!!!*

    That was the sound of Spike Saunders putting a spin on Warren’s attempt to throw him into the barricade. Instead it was the massive Monster of the Mid-South who crashed into the barricade! The strike had doubled Warren Spade over and then gave Spike Saunders a much needed opening for the first time since the match started when he grabbed Warren. He dropped him with a massive DDT on the floor!

    That was a dangerous move all by itself but with it being even worse on the floor, Warren Spade crumbled over in a heap and both giants were down on the ground trying to make a play to get up first. The official of the match was now about to count both of the giants out. What would a double count-out mean if neither monster could get back up first.

    ONE …

    TWO …

    THREE …

    FOUR …

    FIVE …


    Spike Saunders was just now about to get back up first.

    SIX …

    Warren Spade cradled his neck in pain but he sat up slowly and tried to make it back into the ring.

    SEVEN …

    Spike and Warren locked eyes.

    EIGHT …

    They both started to get back towards the ring.

    NINE …

    Both giants had rolled back into the ring right before the official’s count ended this match! Warren and Spike both locked eyes again the very second the giants rolled into the ring and they picked up where they left off at the start of the match.

    Punch!

    Punch!

    Punch!

    Punch!

    Punch!

    Punch!

    Punch!

    The giants were on their knees trading punches and even then, they looked about as tall as an average-sized person!

    “Stick and move, Warren, stick and move!” shouted Fenton.

    Warren was sticking to be sure, but he was trading blows with Spike. The two giants both inched to their full height and it was here where Spike had blocked a punch from Warren and fired back an head butt to the face of Warren. The Monster of the Mid-South struck back with a shot between the eyes with a head butt and then made Saunders retreat to the ropes by punching him in the face. When he was sure that Saunders had enough Warren Spade ran all the way of the ropes. He could have been trying another Trample or something else but Spike made sure nobody would ever find out because he stuck a big boot to the face and knocked Warren off his feet!

    “LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE! LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE! LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE!”

    The dueling chants for both giant fan favorites were music to the ears of Saunders but right now it was the seven-foot three Colossus standing tall. Fenton Woods did not looked pleased with the situation when he picked up Spade and struck the six-foot eleven monster with three knees to his chest to double him over. Spike then charged all the way across the ring for some extra force in his next attack which was a running splash in the corner. He kicked Spade’s knee out from under him and then of all the things Saunders could do, it was a running drop kick to the face! The seven-foot three Colossus had plenty of tricks in his giant bag and he looked to become Number One Contender by pinning Warren Spade.

    1 …

    2 …


    And another kick-out!

    Spike wanted so badly to become the Number One Contender by defeating his rival tonight so the two giants could finally put their issues to bed but Warren wasn’t going to go quietly. Unlike Spike, Warren Spade had yet to taste any type of gold in No Brand Wrestling despite boasting a two-year undefeated streak at one point in his career. In order to do that, he had to weather the storm of Spike.

    The Colossus took Spade’s arm and then threw a good elbow right into his mouth, but Spade fired right back with a big right hand into his gut. More right hands and more right hands caught Saunders in his large abdomen and that gave the One-Man Stampede a huge opening. He tried to set Spike up in the torture rack position. The crowd buzzed thinking that Torn Asunder or one of his torture rack-type finishers were up, but Saunders had done his homework and elbowed the top of Spade’s head to get him to let go. He then ran off the ropes and collided with Warren Spade, courtesy of a flying lariat!

    Saunders, a very decorated and experience veteran, was turning back the clock tonight and breaking out any move he could think of to catch Spade off his game. He covered him right after the impact of the move.

    1 …

    2 …


    But Warren made with another kick-out!

    The Colossus didn’t waste any time arguing with the official. Instead when Spade was trying to get back to his feet he had a few knees thrown into his face.

    “Don’t let him get to you, Warren, fight back!” yelled Fenton.

    Warren Spade had been a monster that dominated the ring since making his triumphant comeback, but tonight he was at the mercy of Spike Saunders who had come in with a game plan. Spike continued to assert his dominance on Warren Spade by throwing him up against the middle rope. Spike Saunders slowly ran off the ropes doing a great impression of a freight train and then drove all his weight down on the back of his neck with a running knee to the back of Warren’s head!

    Spike climbed over the ropes and he climbed out to the floor so he could set up Warren for his next attack. He had Warren Spade up in his grip and then put his neck so it would hang out on the ring apron. Warren was too beat down by Saunders in the last few minutes to mount much resistance. The crowd was starting to come alive once again as Saunders made a grand move to end things with Warren once and for all …

    GUILLOTINE LEG DROP ON THE RING APRON~!!!!

    The Colossus jumped off the ring apron and brought down a mammoth leg across the neck of his rival! Warren was in the worst dire straits he had ever been in ever since he had returned to No Brand Wrestling earlier this year and now Spike appeared to have his number! Spike made a cover and now he could feel that Number One Contender status coming to him!

    1 …

    2 …


    But no!!!

    Warren denied him the opportunity to do just that just yet!

    “Warren, you need to get back in the damn game! Come on!” Fenton yelled. He started to clap and chant.

    “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap. “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap. 

    “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap-clap. 

    His clapping and chanting got the crowd into things, but Spike expertly shut the crowd out and turned his focus to more punishment on Warren. He pulled up Warren by his beard and a head butt rocked the giant from West Memphis. Spike had him doubled over from the shot and then grabbed an arm before he snapped him down with a massive short arm lariat to take down the Monster of the Mid-South. It looked like no amount of chanting or fan support was letting Warren get much in the way of offense after he had started out hot against his rival. 

    For the second time Spike had pulled Warren back onto his feet and then reared back before he could deliver a throat thrust uppercut to the jaw before he followed him up and put him down with another short arm lariat! Warren was down and fighting from behind against his rival Saunders who was now going for another cover to end things for good!

    1 …

    2 …


    CLOSE, BUT NO!

    No matter what Saunders had thrown at Warren Spade, the Monster of the Mid-South had kicked out each and every time, but he may not be able to keep it up for much longer. Now Spike shot a look of disbelief to the official.

    “Look, kid, you can change for all I care,” said Saunders, “but after tonight, I’m moving on to the World title!”

    Spike seemed very sure of himself as he geared up to end things. He got his hand back and tapped his fist close to his chest. All it was going to take was one Boom Headshot! punch for Spike Saunders to close the door on a painful chapter of his career so he could focus on one more rise at the top. Warren on the other hand was still reeling from the beatdown that had been handed down to him all match from the Colossus. The One-Man Stampede was having trouble standing and he was in a very rare and vulnerable position before he cocked back a right hand. Spike ran at him.

    BOOM HEADSHOT …

    He closed in for the kill but Warren moved out of his way and then powered him up with a samoan drop! It was a desperation move without a doubt, but it was a good one. Warren fell back to his side and instead of going for a cover, he sat up and the Monster of the Mid-South let loose a guttural roar. He had taken a beating from Spike Saunders, but did his very best to gut out the pain he was in right now.

    Warren then had the chance to fight back now! He fired back with a head butt right between the eyes of the Colossus! He got in close and two more head butts and then an elbow that sent him reeling against the ropes. Warren Spade then ran off the ropes and off all the things a man his size could do, he used a sunset flip and managed to turn Rune over into a roll-up attempt! This was unheard of!

    1 …

    2 …


    Sure the Colossus had just kicked out but the crowd was still amazed by what they had just seen! Spike and Warren were both very slow to stand but Warren charged into his corner and a potent clothesline lit up the chest of Spike!

    Warren used all the strength in his body and sent Spike Saunders across the ring. The Colossus was left jarred from another clothesline and that’s when Warren Spade let out a loud roar! He pulled Saunders mid-ring and then elevated him for a suplex …

    But this was no ordinary suplex …

    Because he was stalling every bit of that suplex!

    The strength on display from the Monster of the Mid-South was completely unreal! In Spike Saunders’s career, you may have to look real hard and real far if there was any point that somebody had hit a stalling suplex on Spike Saunders, but the Colossus was up in the air! The crowd was amazed by the fierce display of power as Warren dropped back and threw Spike down with a stall into a drop suplex! Warren Spade now made the cover on Spike to hopefully get that coveted Number One Contender spot!

    1 …

    2 …


    KICKOUT!

    He had kicked out, but the Monster of the Mid-South could feel the match becoming his.  Fenton Woods and the crowd were all pumped up from Warren’s show of incredible strength. Since this was pay per view time, Warren had decided that all bets were off as he stepped over the ropes and started to frighteningly scale the top rope. Spike Saunders had just started to get awake when he noticed Warren Spade was on the top rope! He took flight!!!

    MISSILE DROP KICK BY WARREN SPADE!!!

    Warren had flown through the air and actually took down Spike with something that would certainly be on the highlight reel of his NBW career. The crowd loved every second of the action. Fenton tapped his cane and pointed at the ring.

    “Lucha monster yeeeeeeeeeaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!” yelled Fenton Woods

    The One-Man Stampede took a few seconds to recover from a move he didn’t use a lot and then he rolled over to Spike Saunders and his fallen massive frame! Could the risky big move from the big Monster of the Mid-South get him one step closer to his goal of being a champion in No Brand Wrestling?

    1 …

    2 …


    No!!!

    Warren couldn’t believe that Spike Saunders had kicked out now, but he had just done that!  The crowd could not believe it and they were all on their feet!

    “LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE! LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE! LET’S GO SAUNDERS! WARREN SPADE!”

    The chants of all of the No Brand Wrestling fanbase were very loud and very proud and they respected both men for pulling out all the stops to become the next challenger to either Lucky Carter or Derecho. Warren Spade was the first of the two men to get back up to his feet as he rubbed his foot on the ground a second time. The first time he called for it, he had nearly put away Saunders with his incredible spear called the Trample. Like a charging bull, Warren ran off the ropes to deliver what might have been a killing blow, but instead Spade rose and deflected it with a knee to the head! Warren spun out of the move …

    BOOM HEADSHOT~!!!

    Right on the dome! The move rocked Spade by cracking him in the side of the head and now Spike wrapped his massive hand around his throat.

    CHOKESLAM!!!

    JUMPING ELBOW DROP!!!

    THREE massive moves in succession could spell the end for the title hopes and dreams of Warren Spade’s comeback story! Spike Saunders covered him and hoped to end his rival’s dreams once and for all.

    1 …

    2 …


    NO WAY!!!

    Spade had just kicked out of what was Spike’s best shot to win the match between two of No Brand Wrestling’s premier giants! The crowd could not believe it and neither could Spike Saunders as he wondered what it was going to take to beat Warren Spade. The two monsters had thrown everything in their respective arsenals at each other but Spike was not through yet. He scooped up Warren Spade slowly and with a crude bit of effort he was able to muscle him across his broad shoulders with a dirty look directed right at Fenton Woods. SPIKED was coming up next …

    Or was it?

    Warren Spade kicked and elbowed his way until he got back out behind him. He took hold of Spike’s back and tried to do some big move of his own but Spike swung a big back elbow that caught him on the temple. Spike then ran to the ropes again …

    WEST MEMPHIS TWISTER~!!!

    The spine-rattling spinning side slam spiked Spike into the mat and from there, Warren went right into a cover now!

    1 …

    2 …


    NO!!!

    There were a lot of close falls from the two monsters but Spike and Warren were giving it their all tonight! Warren had enough of this and looked to put him away. Spike was up on his shoulders now and it looked like he was trying for Torn Asunder or the Asunder Bomb … Spike didn’t go up and instead he elbowed his way free to land right behind Warren. He charged from the ropes and a clothesline looked to put him away, but Warren Spade busted him in the face with a wicked head butt! The blow was enough that it sent a trickle of blood down the forehead of Warren, but he fought through the pain and he unleashed another roar!

    THE TRAMPLE~!!!

    Spade broke Saunders in half for the second time in this match courtesy of a titanic spear but that was not all! Warren Spade then picked up Saunders from off the canvas! Fenton Woods cheered him on as he hoisted the Colossus on his shoulders!

    THE ASUNDER BOMB~!!!

    The torture rack led to a spinning powerbomb and now it could lead Warren Spade to the Number One Contender spot! He leaned back and he hooked the far leg of the Colossus!

    1 …

    2 …

    3!


    The battle between the two giants had spilled all over the place and the two behemoths threw out everything they could including moves that big men should not be able to do all in the name of success, the name of glory, and forever closing a door that had been reopened when Warren Spade had walked back into No Brand Wrestling. The chapter was finally closed and here tonight, Warren Spade had taken the biggest step towards reinventing himself by defeating Spike Saunders!

    The sight of Warren Spade standing over Spike Saunders with blood still running down his face was a telling one. Warren had fought so hard to convince the world and convince Spike Saunders that he was not the man that he used to be. Just as he said he would, he fought through everything Spike Saunders could dish at him and walked out the NEW Number One Contender to the NBW World championship!

    Fenton Woods walked into the ring with the crowd continuing to celebrate the hard hitting match between the two premier giants in No Brand Wrestling and Warren stood over Saunders who had not moved.

    “Here is the winner of the match … your new Number One Contender and the ONE TRUE MONSTER in No Brand Wrestling … Warren Spade!!!”

    Saunders sat up and as the words garnered applause from the crowd, he looked completely defeated. Spike had thrown everything he could at Warren Spade, but it was his hated rival that had fought through everything to defeat him at Legacy! Spike looked over …

    And saw the hand of Warren Spade.

    “For fuck’s sake, take my hand,” said Warren. “We’re done, Spike. We’re done.”

    Spike hadn’t forgotten what Spade had done to him at the last Legacy. He had ran his name through the mud and beat him so badly in a cage match that Spike had been forced to take a sabbatical from the show. Fast forward several years later and now Warren had defeated him, but this time he had no help. He manned up, proved to Spike Saunders that he was a changed man by defeating him without any controversy or cheap tactics. The memories came flooding back …

    He pushed Spade’s hand away!

    The crowd now booed Spike Saunders as he sat up and slowly wobbled his way out of the ring. He was punch drunk and defeated. Spade and Fenton both looked exasperated trying to earn the approval of a rival that he had ruined the career of several years ago, but they had to look ahead. Warren raised his hands and his music played for the crowd as they enjoyed the celebration of Warren’s biggest victory since returning to No Brand Wrestling …

    He raised his hand …

    And Spike came back to raise it!

    That earned him a tremendous pop from the crowd! The Colossus and the Monster of the Mid-South gave a glance to one another.

    “Congrats, you earned it.” Said Spike.

    That was probably as nice as he would ever be to Warren Spade but for tonight it was good enough. Warren actually shot a smile at Spike as the NBW veteran patted Warren on the shoulder and did the same to Fenton Woods and then left the ring so the Monster of the Mid-South could bask in his moment of glory. One door had finally closed for the career of the two giants that waged war a long time ago.

    Now another door opened as Warren Spade would soon finally have his chance to cement himself among No Brand Wrestling’s greats by winning his first title.

    The NBW World championship.

     

    Different Breed/Johnny Bedlam Versus HMMS/'Big' Rick Strongbern

     

    “Up next we have a match that as a result of a tailgate brawl earlier, is an Eight Man Tag Match.” Melissa Vanderart said as the camera faded in to show ring announcer Brent Williams standing in the middle of the ring.

    “Dang, I’m sorry I missed it.  I hear Jonny gets a rockin party going.” A genuinely bummed out C.G. said back to his partner.

    “Well, the party got rocky for sure.  The Strongberns came in and tried to crash the party and then Different Breed came in to help, then HMMS….a huge mess resulted and now we have this 8 man tag match.  Emotions are very high.” Mel continued on, not caring about her partner’s current melancholy.

    “Sounds like a real drunk tank donnybrook.” C.G. answered back.

    “You got it, bud. Originally, this was going to be a six-man tag match featuring HMMS taking on the Different Breed, which stemmed from the Brock Newbludd and Ravage rivalry. Throwing the newcomer Jonny Bedlam and Big Rick in to the mix is going to make this match real interesting!” Mel said with excitement in her voice.

    “Watching Big Rick and the HMMS wipe the floor with LaRue’s band of losers is going to be a real treat. Too bad Bedlam got into the mix, I can appreciate any man who gives away free booze!” C.G. replied.

    “As do I, but I think Big Rick and the HMMS are going to have their hands full. Bedlam and the DIfferent Breed are as skilled in the ring as anybody. But, only one team can win, so let’s send it down to Brent Williams for introductions!” Melissa said as the camera focused in on the entrance ramp.

    “The following 8 man tag team match is scheduled for one fall!” Brent announced to the sold out crowd.

    “Missing Link” by Dinosaur Jr. featuring Del

    The opening riff spilled out over the arena, and Jonny Bedlam as well as Ai Tso, Davey La Rue, and SPARK of Different Breed all emerged from behind the curtain, to achieve greater strength in numbers. 

    “Introducing first, at a combined weight of seven-hundred and fourteen pounds...Ai Tso, SPARK, and “Fat Tuesday” Davey LaRue...The Different Breeeeed!!” Brent Williams announced to the roaring crowd and all three members of The Different Breed high-fived each other.

    “And their partner, from El Paso, Texas...weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds...he is the “Paddy Wagon Party Animal”...Joooonny Beeedlaaamm!”

    Bedlam threw one fist above his head, and the crowd gave the NBW newcomer a great ovation.

    All four men were holding red plastic cups, which they all downed in unison as they reached the beginning of the ramp, to the cheers of the crowd.  They then tossed the cups into the crowd and made their way to the ring, all pounding their chests.  Once inside the ring, each man ascended a turnbuckle and lifted both fists into the air. 

    Psycho" by Psyko Dalek

    The lights flashed in rapid-fire random series of white as smoke billowed out from both sides of the entrance ramp as Rick Strongbern walked out, huffing out a puff of smoke he probably just inhaled.  The members of Handsome Man Modeling School appeared at each side of Rick and then one to his rear. Not paying any attention to the jeering crowd, Rick and HMMS strode towards the ring with maximum cockiness.

    “And their opponents! First at a combined weight of six-hundred and sixty eight pounds…”Tantalizing” Taylor Smith, “Photogenic” Peter Pham, and “The Beaut” Benny Reyes...they are The Handsom Maaaan Modeling Schoooll!” Williams announced, and all three members of the HMMS flexed their biceps to the crowd while they talked trash.

    “And their partner...from Pasadena, California! Weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-six pounds...he is “The Biggest Man in Town”...he is Biiiig Riiiick Stroooongbeeernn!” Williams voice echoed throughout the arena, and the crowd HATED them some Big Rick as he joined in on the flexing with HMMS.

    Rick walked to the ring apron and crawled up, dramatically stepping on the ropes one at a time before he climbed over and headed inside.  Strongbern let out his trademark loud roar for the crowd as the music faded out and the crowd showered boos down on him and his squad. The HMMS boys all climbed through the ropes after him and they all took their positions on the side of the ring opposite Bedlam and Different Breed’s corner. 

    Jonny and Strongbern decided to be the starting tag men in the match. Strongbern stomped his foot like a miniature bull, and Jonny laughed at him, causing Big Rick’s face turn red with anger. The referee for the contest, Tal Nedrick, saw that both teams were ready, and with that he called for the bell!

    DING! DING! DING!  

    The bell rang and Rick, with surprising speed and gusto grabbed Bedlam in a waistlock and moved around to his back. Bedlam hopped up and caught Big Rick in a waistscissors, locking him into a pin, but Strongbern struggled out before the ref could even get a one count and shuffled away.  Bedlam and he both got back on their feet while the members of Different Breed and HMMS jawed and gestured at each each other from across the ring.

    Big Rick charged again at Bedlam and attempted a double leg takedown, but Bedlam hopped up and dropped down with a double stomp to the shoulders/upper back of Strongbern as momentum carried Rick forward, resulting in a sort of pancake.  The crowd cheered at this development as Rick squirmed under Jonny’s feet.

    Jonny quickly stepped off of Rick’s back and dropped a knee to Strongbern’s hamstring. Then Jonny grabbed Big Rick’s ankle and cranked his leg up and back with a modified Boston Crab.  Rick shrieked and managed to violently roll sideways to get out of the move.  Rick crawled quickly towards his corner and made the tag to Pham, with Jonny Bedlam’s smirking approval.  Jonny did a quick bow towards the crowd then high five tagged La Rue, and stepped through the ropes.

    The NBW’s cult hero charged quickly towards Pham, and seemed to get a couple of steps on him before hopping into a Lou Thesz press, which crashed Pham to the canvas.   La Rue tried to slam Pham’s head into the ring, but Pham brought a knee up into La Rue’s groin which sent a gasp of air out, making La Rue roll to the side.  The ref managed not to see the move, and Pham leapt onto La Rue’s exposed back to apply a rear naked choke, scissoring him around the waist and rolling sideways. 

    La Rue, though in pain, still had much of his wits about him and brutally elbowed Pham in the ribs once.  La Rue did it again, and weakened the hold enough to pull his head out of the hold and roll away onto his knees, before getting up to his feet.  Both La Rue and Pham were up and facing each other.  Pham charged at La Rue, and attempted a body press, but was caught in mid air by La Rue and spun into a brutal powerslam, to the roar of the crowd.  La Rue stood up from the move and pumped both fists into the air, enjoying the adulation.

    That was a large mistake, however, because he had took his eyes off of the opposing corner.  In doing so, the HMMS’ remaining members had entered the ring and charged at La Rue.  Taylor Smith and Benny Reyes clobbered La Rue with a double clothesline to the back of his head.  La Rue crumpled and ended up laying on his belly.  The crowd exploded with boos as the referee tried to push Reyes and Smith out of the ring.

    Reyes and Smith argued with the referee, causing the ref not to notice that Ai Tso had entered the ring and charged in their general direction.  Ai Tso used the ref’s shoulders to spring over him into a body press across both Reyes and Smith knocking them into the ropes.  Smith actually hit the ropes hard enough to fly out. The ref considered disqualifying Ai Tso, but shrugged and allowed the match to continue since he was technically assisted him.  Reyes then exited the ring and checked on Smith who’d flown to the outside. 

    Pham and La Rue had rolled to their knees and began to head over to their respective corners, while oth SPARK and Strongbern were leaning their arms out wildly for the tag.  Bedlam was pounding his foot on the ring boards to get La Rue’s attention, and the crowd clapped in rhythm to help urge Davey on. Ai Tso had resumed his proper position in the corner at this point as well.   Both La Rue and Pham reached the corner at the same time, but Reyes managed to get his hand in front of Rick’s at the last moment, seemingly wanting more of a piece of SPARK than Strongbern had. 

    “WHAT IN THE SAM HILL ARE YOU DOING?” shouted Rick.

    “Relax Shrimpfart, I got this,” replied Reyes as he hopped the ring ropes and headed towards SPARK. 

    Apparently, Reyes had not “got it” as much as he’d thought though.  The speedy SPARK drilled him with a beautiful spinning wheel kick right to the face.  Reyes fell hard.  SPARK, having smelled blood in the water, charged at the ropes and hopped onto the second rope and bounced off, turning slightly in the air and dropped a senton splash onto...the bare canvas.  Reyes had been playing possum and rolled out of the way!

    Seeing Spark hit the mat, Reyes quickly got to his feet and bounced off the ropes. Sprinting across the ring, Reyes brought his arm up for an apparent elbow drop but stopped in his track right as he got to SPARK. Putting on the biggest shit eating grin of his life, the arrogant Reyes flexed his bicep while he began thrusting his hips. In the corner, the other two members of HMMS cheered their buddy on as they also flexed their muscles and began dry-humping the air as well. Strongbern simply shook his head at the idiocy of his partners as they performed their awkward dance.

    The crowd rained down boos as Benny gave one last thrust with his hips and leaped high in the air to deliver the big elbow to SPARK. To no one’s surprise, Benny had wasted too much time dancing and hit nothing but canvas when SPARK rolled out of the way at the last second. Getting to his feet, the speedy SPARK hopped onto the second rope again and this time connected with a beautiful senton splash! Standing up, the usually reserved SPARK mimicked Reyes dance, causing the crowd to explode in cheers! Forward rolling to his corner, SPARK stuck out his hand and tagged in Ai Tso!

    Ai hopped over the top rope, and delivered a stiff knee to Benny’s back as Reyes was just getting back to his feet. The knee sent Benny stumbling forward towards his corner, and Reyes stuck his hand out looking to make a tag to Strongbern. Benny’s hand was inches away from getting the tag when suddenly he went flying backwards towards the middle of the ring, courtesy of a big time release German suplex from Ai!

    Reyes flopped like a fish in the middle of the mat and Ai made his way over to him quickly for the pin!

    ONE!

    TWO!


    KICKOUT BY REYES!

    Benny managed a kick out, and all three members of his team pulled their heads back from in between the ropes, not needing to run in to break up the pinning predicament. Pulling Benny back to his feet, Ai hooked an arm around Reyes’ neck, setting him up for a suplex. Still showing some fight, Reyes began wiggling his feet as Ai lifted him up, causing Tso to put him back down. Letting out a grunt, Ai tried to lift him again and when he did, Benny countered with a swinging neckbreaker! 

    Benny made it to his feet more quickly and heads to the corner for a tag, and Taylor Smith was the man tagged.  Smith charged in, then strutted, as if down a runway toward Ai, who was struggling to his feet.  Smith smirked, moving in behind Ai and swung his leg out and drilled Ai with a roundhouse to the side of the head, crumpling him to the ground.  The crowd booed.  Taylor put his arm over his face and began to “Dab” for a few seconds.  The boos became deafening. 

    Smith’s arrogance yielded instant karma, however.  Ai was not as injured as he’d thought and rolled towards his corner and tagged the outstretched and eager hand of Jonny Bedlam.  Bedlam nearly leaped through the ropes and charged at Taylor Smith.  Taylor Smith managed to see Bedlam coming right as Jonny leaped into the air, placed his knee against the back of Smith’s head, grabbing his hair with his hand and brought him down with a vicious Branding Iron bulldog.  The crowd erupts. 

    Smith was in pain, Jonny yanked him to his feet and dragged him over his corner, nearly throwing him.  Jonny gave a hard stare to Strongbern, then pointed at him.

    “YOU!  TIME TO DANCE RICK!”

    Rick slapped the hand of Smith, who then had to be helped out of the ring by the ref and his friends.  Rick charged at Jonny, they both locked up in a collar-and-elbow tie up and moved about, each trying to get the edge.  Rick moved an arm away and cheaply elbowed Jonny in the solar plexus.  Jonny bent over in pain.  Rick moved slightly to the side and began to run at Jonny to deliver a high knee/punt kick possibly.  At the last second, Jonny stood straight up, spun, lifted both legs into the air and hit Rick full in the face with his Bethlem Royal Hospital!  Strongbern hit the mat sickeningly, and Jonny got on top of Rick, hooking the leg deeply for the cover!

    ONE!!!

    The HMMS, in unison, head for the ring, but all three are met by members of the Different Breed so they can’t interrupt the pin.

    TWO!!!

    THREE!!!!!


    The crowd burst into cheers as Jonny rolled off of Big Rick, while the Different Breed cleared the ring of the HMMS.

    “The winners of this contest by pinfall...Jonny Bedlam and The Different Breed!” Williams announced and all four men celebrated by climbing the turnbuckles one more time to raise their fists.

    “A big win for Bedlam and the Different Breed, C.G.!” Vanderart exclaimed.

    “I can’t believe it! I thought Big Rick was going to seal the deal in the end, but that was one helluva kick by Bedlam!” C.G. shot back.

    “Indeed it was partner, and it looks like Big Rick is just starting to get to his feet. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a serious concussion.” Mel surmised.

    Strongbern slowly staggered to his feet as he held his head, and the referee attempted to give him a helping hand but an angry Big Rick pushed him away. All four members of the winning team were still standing up on the turnbuckles celebrating with their backs turned to Strongbern. Still holding his head, a seething Big Rick spotted Jonny Bedlam and began to make his way over to him.

    Standing on the corner across from Jonny, Davey LaRue spotted Strongbern rushing over to Jonny.

    “Jonny! Turn around bon ami!” LaRue yelled out as he jumped off the turnbuckle back into the ring.

    The crowd’s loud cheering made it impossible for Bedlam to hear Davey, and LaRue charged towards Strongbern in hopes of cutting him off, but the angry little man was far too quick. Reaching Jonny, Big Rick snarled and shot a arm up between Bedlam’s legs to deliver a low blow!

    Boos rained down as Jonny doubled over in pain, causing him to nearly fall off the turnbuckle. The crowd’s reaction caused SPARK and Ai to turn around to see what had just unfolded. Seeing LaRue was only a few feet away, Big Rick quickly rolled out of the ring to avoid him.

    Davey and the rest of the DIfferent Breed glared at Strongbern who had quickly made it up the ramp to join the HMMS on top of it where they greeted Strongbern with high fives and slaps on the back. Letting out a hearty laugh, Big Rick looked to be reveling in the moment.

    Back in the ring, Bedlam was now back in the middle of the ring and waved off his new friends, signaling that he was ok. Jonny stared up towards the stage to the man he had just beat and an insane look filled his eyes.

    Turning their backs to Jonny and his teammates, HMMS and Big Rick disappeared behind the curtain before the camera slowly faded out.

     

    Plus one more makes FIVE

     

    “You guys sure that you’re up for this tonight? I mean…”

    Backstage, a small posse has formed in the corridors of the Thomas and Mack Center. At the front of the pack was the tag team of Tony Spark and Chris Noid. Behind them, walking slowly, and purposefully were Zhalia Fears and Mariella Jade Flair. The duo known as 2 Badass 4 a Name were showing all the scars of the brawl earlier in the evening.

    “No, what do you mean?” MJF asked with eyebrow arched.

    “It’s just…” Spark couldn’t really bring himself to say it.

    But his partner could. “You two look rather gnarly.”

    “All the more reason we’re ready for this fight,” the bandage over Fears’ forehead creased and crumpled as she smiled. “And thanks for the assist.”

    “Oh, that is no problem. But, this is a five on five fight, right?”

    “Too right,” Fears answered.

    “Then,” For the Win looked at each other, then the women, “aren’t we one shy?” Indeed, the headcount only reached four, Noid’s thumb still turned in.

    With an impish grin, Fears said, “I’ve got that covered.”

    “You aren’t thinking?” MFJ asked in shorthand.

    “Actually, he should be just around the corner here…”

    As the view turned the corner, a pair of legs came swinging up out of a doorframe. Clad in silver shorts and taped ankles they went up, left, right, down.

    “Mitchell?” Fears addressed the man in mid exercise.

    “Mitchell?” Flair asked Fears, disappointed.

    “Mitchell?” For the Win asked amongst themselves, completely out of the loop.

    Dropping from the metalwork he’d framed around the door to do his captain’s leg lifts, Quinlan stepped into the hall. He swept back his dirty blond mop and double thought wiping the sweat from his face with the home Raiders #21 jersey he was wearing.

    “Ms. Fears,” he nodded. And, “Twin-C,” as he saw the rest of the group. “You two look like you’ve gotten into some fun tonight,” he spoke with a twinge of sarcasm.  “I hope the other guys look worse.”

    “That is what brings us around, as a matter of fact. We have something of a math problem we would hope you could balance.”

    “Always up for some algebra. What’dya got?”

    “We’re one team member shy of a full deck. Seems Zhal thinks you’d fit the bill,” Mariella half informed Quinlan.

    “It’s Crimson--” Noid again employed the time trusted finger counting, only to be cut off.

    “I am in.”

    “What?”

    “You need help; I am in. Gives me a chance to do something other than cardio tonight.”

    “It’s not like we couldn’t do this with four,” MJF continued, proud as ever.

    “I think what Mariella is trying to say is thank you,” Fears teased her friend and partner.

    “Good,” Quinlan concluded.

    ‘Good,” Zhalia agreed.

    “Great,” Tony Spark wanted to join in.

    An awkward silence hung in the air for five seconds before Quinlan broke it with more awkwardness.

    “Well, I’ve got to get changed… so…”

    “Right, right,”

    Fade.

     

    Brock Newbludd Versus Ravage

    Laddervault for the Blitzkrieg Championship

     

    The camera slowly faded in to show the Laddervault ominously hanging high above the ring. The structure looked immense, and seemed to fill up the entire ceiling of the Thomas and Mack Center. Then in an instant, the camera zoomed high up and closely ran along the edge of the chain link fence, before ducking in to show the interior of the unique cell. A quick cut away to another camera revealed that the up close and personal view was courtesy of one of the NBW drones in place tonight.

    The state of the art piece of technology made a few more quick passes around the Laddervault before zooming away out of the picture. With that, the camera panned over to show NBW’s dynamic duo of Melissa Vanderart and C.G. Gaines sitting behind the announce table. Both commentators acknowledged the camera with a small wave before Mel swung in her chair to face C.G.

     “Here we are C.G., we’ve made it to a match that I know you personally have been looking forward to, the Blitzkrieg title match between reigning champion “The Innovator” Brock Newbludd and former world champion Ravage.” Mel said and C.G rubbed his hands together as a big smile grew on his face.

    “You got that right baby! It’s time for one of NBW’s new heroes, Brock Newbludd to get his ass handed to him courtesy of one Mr. Ravage. I hope Lucky’s watching, because this is going to be nothing to what Derecho has planned for him later tonight!” C.G. said gleefully.

    Melissa cocked an eyebrow at him as she rolled her eyes.

    “I will let you calling me “baby” slide, and blame it on your excitement level. And you’re right, Brock has been a “hero” for the fans of NBW. His arrival and capturing of the Blitzkrieg title along with Lucky Carter’s ascension to the World Heavyweight title has given the fans a couple of fighting champions they can rally around!” Mel argued back to her colleague.

    “Bah! These peasants in the crowd don’t have the mental capacity to distinguish a hero from a zero! One thing is for sure tonight Mel, Ravage is going to be a hero in his WONDERFUL daughter Cassie’s eyes after he successfully takes that title from Newbludd, and that’s all that matters. Who knows, maybe after he’s done beating Newbludd, he’ll throw that leash back around Sally’s neck and make her Cassie’s permanent playtoy?” Gaines said ruefully.

    “I think Brock would die before that happens--” Mel began to say, but C.G. quickly cut her off.

    “Maybe it will actually be over his dead body! This is the match that made Ravage. The Savage of the Ring owns the Laddervault!” Gaines said confidently.

    “Right again partner, but if Newbludd can beat a psychopath like Big Rick in the Blitzcage, he has a fighting chance against Ravage in the Laddervault!” Melissa pointed out.

    “More like no chance Mel.” Gaines said as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

    “We’ll see Gaines, but first let’s take a quick look back to the events that led to this championship confrontation!” Mel replied as the camera faded out.

    Symphony music began play as black and white clips of Newbludd’s match against Big Rick Strongbern at Scorched were shown, ending with a slow motion replay of Brock’s flaming elbow drop to his bitter enemy that won him the Blitzkrieg title. This was followed by a bloodied and battered Newbludd being helped out of the Blitzcage and up the ramp by Sally Renolds while he held his newly won title high above his head. Suddenly  music crescendoed as Ravage appeared and delivered a swift kick to the back of Newbludd’s head.

    Highlights of Ravage’s brutal beatdown of Newbludd followed. This was culminated with a slow motion shot of Ravage leaping off the Epicenter and hitting a massive Cannonball on Newbludd while the music was drowned out by the sound of Sally’s horrified scream. There was silence for a brief moment before the music picked back up again as replays of the two men’s backstage brawls were shown. But, it once again fell silent as Sally Renold’s kidnapping was shown, which then faded out to be replaced by Ravage’s daughter Cassie creepily brushing a detained Sally’s hair..

    Once again intensifying, the music switched to an almost creepy tune as flashes of Cassie, the HMMS and Ravage keeping Sally prisoner were shown until finally relenting to a more triumphant tone as it highlighted her release back to Brock and her subsequent minor revenge she got on Cassie when she got her hand’s on Ravage’s daughter on Slam 81.

    Finally, the screen went black before a picture of Ravage standing protectively behind Cassie appeared, followed by Brock doing the same with Sally. The two pairs glared at each other until they faded out as an image of the Blitzkrieg title took up the entire screen.


    There was a seamless transition from the video package to the ring, showing referee Chuck Radford standing in the middle of it, next to tuxedo wearing ring announcer Brent Williams. Both men necks were strained back as they stared high into the rafters while they exchanged some small talk. The veteran referee had a wary look covering his, and his longtime friend gave him a reassuring pat on the back as they both brought their heads back down.

    Radford reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of blue nitrile gloves and began putting them on while Williams reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket to produce a microphone. Snapping the last glove on, Chuck flexed his hands to check the fit before looking over to NBW ring tech Denny Davidson who was holding a  industrial two button remote in his hands. Quickly looking back up once last time, Chuck let out a deep breath before locking eyes with Denny and giving him a thumbs up. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, Davidson hit the bottom button on the remote.

    The packed house came to life as the lights in the arena cut out, covering them in darkness.The sound of a rapidly increasing heartbeat started to play, increasing the buzz of anticipation that now flowed throughout the Thomas and Mack Center. Suddenly, the lights above the ring flipped on, and the crowd let out another roar as the steel structure known as the Laddervault made it’s descent. Meanwhile, NBW ring techs were busy setting up standing ladders on each side of the ring, strategically placing them so that they would be in between the ring and the cage itself.

    As it slowly made it’s way down, the sound of the heartbeat continued to play, until turning into the sound of a flat line just as the Laddervault came to a rest around the ring. With that, the rest of the arena’s lighting slowly came back on, and Brent Williams's put the microphone to his lips as he spread one arm out wide.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a Laddervault match, and it is for the N...B...W Bliiiiitzkriiieg Chaaampionshiiiip!” Williams bellowed out over the cheering audience.

    “For our newer NBW fans, why don’t you tell them exactly what a Laddervault match is, and the rules C.G..” Mel directed her partner.

    “There ain’t no rules Mel, so that takes care of that! As far as what it is, it’s a ladder match  combined with a steel cage, essentially. As you can see, all three sides of the cage are your standard chain link, but the roof is entirely made of ladders. And hanging above that death trap of a ceiling is the precious Blitzkrieg title.” C.G. answered.

    “Oh my, that sounds dangerous…” A surprised Mel replied..

    “It’s going to be awesome Mel! The winner is somehow going to have to make it up to that roof and make his way across it to the center without falling through the ladder rungs. If he can manage that without falling through, and also manage to keep his opponent at bay, the Blitzkrieg title will be hanging there for the taking.” Gaines said quickly just as the first combatants entrance music hit.

    ”Wanted Man” by Rev Theory


    The crowd rained down boos as former world champion Ravage confidently walked through the curtain. Pyro shot off from the top of the Epicenter and showered him in sparks as he spread his arms wide. A man once loved by the fans, his recent actions against Brock Newbludd had drastically changed their view towards him, and the veteran Ravage could care less about that. He had only one care in the world, and that was becoming Blitzkrieg champion.

    “Introducing first...the challenger! From South Dakota...weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds...he is “The Savage of the Ring!” He...is...RAAAVAAGEE!” Williams announced.

    As the Savage of the Ring made his way down to the ring, he kept his focus on the Laddervault and as he made it closer to the cage a twisted smile spread across his face. Ravage’s first world title win came via him beating three other men in the first ever Laddervault match, and he gazed at it like it was a long lost friend.

    Opening the cage door and stepping inside, Ravage slid underneath the ring ropes before popping up to his feet. The confident smile was still present on his face as he brushed past Williams and Radford to a turnbuckle and climbed up it to receive even more jeers as he raised both fists above his head as even more pyro shot off from the stage. Lowering his arms, Ravage gave the crowd an arrogant smirk before climbing down. Using the ropes to stretch in his corner, he now set his gaze to the entrance ramp.

    ”Seek and Destroy” by Metallica

    Passing through the curtain onto the stage, NBW Blitzkrieg champion ”The Innovator” Brock Newbludd received an ovation from the crowd that was the polar opposite of Ravage’s and he acknowledged the crowd’s thunderous cheers by climbing up onto one of the prop blackjack tables to throw a fist up.

    “And his opponent! From Milwaukee, Wisconsin...weighing in at two-hundred and twenty nine pounds, he is the N...B...W Blitzkrieg Champion...this is “The Innovator” Broooock Neeeewbluuuudd!” Finished with his job, Williams walked down the ring steps and exited the soon to be warzone.

    Atop the table, Newbludd soaked in the cheers while he looked out to the crowd, before turning his head and setting his sights on the Laddervault. Newbludd’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Ravage through the chain link fence and he hopped off the table to make his way down the ramp. Stopping halfway down, Newbludd unstrapped the title belt around his waist and lifted it high above his head. Red pyro shot up the ramp and quickly back down while Brock held the title up with one hand and pointed a finger at Ravage with another. A quick cut to the challenger showed that he was neither impressed nor intimidated by the display.

    Bringing the title down, Brock slung it over one shoulder and continued towards the cage. Sticking his arm out to slap a few fans hands, Brock eventually made it to the cage door and entered. Slamming the door shut, Brock walked up the ring steps and slowly entered through the ropes, his eyes never leaving Ravage. Upon entering the ring, Newbludd was immediately greeted by referee Radford who asked him for the belt. Taking the title off his shoulder, Newbludd looked at it for a long moment before handing it over to Chuck.

    Radford instructed both men to stay in their corners while he made his way to the center of the ring, both men nodded their heads but fury burned in both men’s eyes as they stared across from each other. This fight was going to be about much more than the Blitzkrieg title, both men had scores to settle.

    Standing in the middle of the ring, Radford grabbed the cable that was lowered from the rafters before grabbing the hook on it’s end and attaching the belt to it. Giving a thumbs up, Radford backed away and all three men watched as the belt was lifted up...and up...and up, until finally coming to a rest roughly six and a half feet above the roof of the cage, smack dab in the middle.

    Taking a deep breath, Radford looked from one man to the other before raising his hand and calling for the bell…

    DING! DING! DING!

    The crowd popped and Radford had to quickly get out of harm’s way as Newbludd and Ravage both shot out their respective corners like rockets to collide in the center of the ring for a rough collar and elbow tie up!

    Brock was the first to act, tossing Ravage down to the mat with a nice side headlock takedown, but Ravage quickly escaped and both men quickly got back to their feet. Grabbing Newbludd by the arm, Ravage whipped him into the ropes and took Brock down to the mat with a picture perfect drop toe hold. The quick follow up elbow drop by Ravage missed as Brock rolled out of the way, and both men were quickly back to their feet.

    Circling each other for a couple brief moments, Ravage went to grab Newbludd but Brock ducked behind him and quickly took Ravage down with a side russian legsweep. This time it was Newbludd who missed, hitting nothing but mat with his follow up fist drop and once again both men squared off on their feet as they circled each other.

    Both men had the same plan as they both took off towards the opposite ropes, bouncing off them. Meeting in the middle of the ring, Ravage tried to hit a clothesline but Newbludd ducked it and bounced off the opposite ropes before flying through the air to hit his opponent with a flying forearm! The veteran Ravage saw it coming, and quickly ducked the incoming Brock and Newbludd rolled through the landing to pop back up on his feet.

    Not skipping a beat, both charged back in. Locking up again, the two men went into some intricate mat wrestling as they traded hold for hold and reversal for reversal. Newbludd finally gained an advantage and took Ravage down with a waistlock, but couldn’t capitalize when Ravage wriggled free and took Brock down with a waistlock of his own. Fighting through it, Brock brought both men up with a nice bridge before taking Ravage down with a textbook hip toss. Standing up, an angry Ravage stomped towards Brock.

    Meeting in the middle of the ring, the crowd was in a fervor as Newbludd and Ravage got nose to nose and began talking trash to each other. Ravage then shoved Brock backwards causing a loud “smack” to be heard and Newbludd returned the favor.

    The initial wrestling display then quickly dissolved into pure brawling as the two men began trading blows, the built up rage in each man finally getting released with each stiff punch. The two men tussled and jockeyed for position as they continued trading haymakers, bouncing from turnbuckle to turnbuckle…

    Ravage landed a hard right hook, rocking Brock’s head back!

    BOOOO!!

    Newbludd came back with a sharp elbow to the jaw, causing Ravage to stumble!

    YEAAAA!!

    Ravage retaliated with a fierce lunging headbutt, snapping Brock’s head back once again!

    BOOOOO!!

    Still dazed, Newbludd telegraphed a wild hook and Ravage avoided it by dropping to his knees…

    NUT SHOT!!!

    BOOOOOOOOOO!!!

    Things had turned ugly quickly, which was unsurprising considering the hatred shared between the two. Brock immediately doubled over in pain from the punch to the groin. Stumbling backwards, Newbludd grabbed the top rope with one hand to keep himself from hitting the mat while he remained bent over and coughing.

    Seeing an opening, Ravage bounced off the opposite ropes and charged in at full speed. Brock had lifted his head up just in time to see his opponent coming towards him and when Ravage brought his knee up to smash into his skull, Newbludd rolled out of the way towards the turnbuckle. The Savage of the Ring hit nothing but air as his knee shot through the ropes, while his momentum caused the rest of him to crash into them awkwardly. The only thing that stopped Ravage from tumbling to the outside was his crotch impacting the middle rope and slingshotting him back in!

    YEEEEAAA!

    Now it was Ravage who was dealing with severe ball pain as he rolled around on the mat groaning in agony. In the corner, Newbludd used the ropes to pull himself back to his feet. Turning to look at the downed Ravage, Brock took deep breaths as the last of the groin pain left him and he turned to face the turnbuckle before vaulting to the top. Spinning around, Brock set his sights on his target and leapt off. The crowd let out a roar as he began to twist in the air...

    SKY TWISTER PRE---NO!
     
    Playing possum like the veteran he was, Ravage waited until the last possible second before rolling out of the way and Brock paid the price for it when he crash landed onto the mat. Brock grimaced in pain as he laid on his back staring up at his title hanging high above him through the ceiling of ladders. Slowly rolling onto his stomach, Newbludd began to push himself up, but Ravage was kind enough to give him an assist by grabbing Brock by the scruff of the neck and jerking Newbludd to his feet.

    Brock had no time to get his hands up to block the series of rights and lefts that Ravage pummeled him with, and the Savage of the Ring quickly followed up his barrage of fists by irish-whipping Newbludd into the corner. Brock’s back hit the turnbuckle hard, but the clothesline that Ravage delivered seconds later hit even harder. Ravage then got low, grabbed the ropes and rammed his shoulder right into The Innovator’s midsection.

    Not letting up one bit, Ravage threw another shoulder into Brock’s midsection before grabbing Newbludd’s arm and firing across the ring into the opposite turnbuckle. Once again smashing hard into the turnbuckle, this time chest first, Brock let out a gasp as the air left his lungs upon impact and he stumbled backwards. Ravage sprinted across the ring and showed some great agility when he grabbed Brock by the back of head and delivered a sick one-handed bulldog that ended with Ravage smashing Brock’s face into the middle turnbuckle while Ravage glided in between the bottom and middle rope to land on his feet on the outside!

    Newbludd looked dead to the world as he slumped forward on his knees, face still buried into the middle turnbuckle. Ravage let out a burst of laughter as he stood on the outside to look at his handiwork, and the crowd returned his arrogance with a showering of boos.

    Crawling back into the ring, Ravage casually walked over to Newbludd before grabbing him by the hair and jerking Brock’s limp body out of the corner. Brock flopped backwards onto the mat and sprawled out, his eyes closed. Ravage looked down at his opponent and laughed again while he shook his head. Turning to face the corner, Ravage grabbed the top turnbuckle and quickly removed the protective cover to expose the steel underneath. Throwing the cover down, Ravage walked over to Newbludd and began picking him up.

    Struggling to get Brock to his feet, Ravage finally managed to get a jelly legged Newbludd up, and the instant he let go, Brock crumpled to a heap back down to the mat. The Savage of the RIng mockingly nudged Brock in the ribs with his foot, imitating a hunter checking to see if his prey was dead, which drew more boos from the crowd.

    “THIS IS YOUR CHAMPION!? PATHETIC!” Ravage screamed out as he pointed down to Newbludd.

    Ravage tried to lift Brock up again, but he was simply dead weight and Newbludd hit the mat again. This time Ravage looked frustrated, and gave Brock a sharp kick to the ribs which elicited no reaction at all from the Innovator. Shaking his head, Ravage bent down low and grabbed Brock by the ears to turn his head towards Ravage.

    “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TANGLE WITH A LEGEND BROCK! THIS IS THE BIG LEAGUES!” Spit flew out of Ravage’s mouth and sprayed all over Brock’s face as he screamed.

    Crouching as low as he could possibly go, it appeared that Ravage was going to have to deadlift the unconscious Brock up to his feet. Locking his arms under Brock, Ravage began to rise to his feet…

    And that’s when Brock’s eyes opened up and they held a laser focus. Either Ravage had wasted too much time trash talking, or Newbludd had just played one of the longest games of possum in wrestling history, either way, Ravage had no clue as he lifted Brock up.

    The challenger quickly found out though when the crowd exploded into cheers as Newbludd sent a knee into Ravage’s side, causing him to drop Brock. Taking advantage off Ravage’s shock, Newbludd gave his opponent a quick kick to the gut, causing Ravage to double over. Slamming Ravage’s head underneath his arm, Brock spun both men around to get them into position…

    SNAP SUPLEX INTO THE EXPOSED TURNBUCKLE!

    The small of Ravage’s back was driven right into the exposed steel and he screamed out in agony from the damage done. The suplex had also left the Savage of the Ring in the precarious position famously known as the tree of woe. Getting back to his feet, Newbludd wasted no time in laying the boots to the vulnerable Ravage to the enjoyment of the crowd.

    Brock finished off the mudhole stomping by grabbing the ropes and using them to stabilize himself as he jumped up to nearly do a handstand before coming back down with a vicious knee to Ravage’s face that busted him open!

    Blood poured from the upside down Ravage’s nose and ran down his forehead, and it was Newbludd’s turn to laugh. Taking a step back, Newbludd took his eyes off Ravage to examine his surroundings before locking his eyes on one of the ladders that were set up around the ring. Hopping over the ropes, Newbludd quickly made his way to the ladder and folded it up before sliding it into the ring.

    Heading back in himself, Brock got to his feet to see that the bleeding Ravage was still hanging upside down in the corner. Grabbing the ladder, the crowd started to buzz in anticipation as Brock placed the folded up ladder on the mat right in front of Ravage with the top of it only a few feet from his bleeding head.

    Satisfied with the ladder’s placement, Newbludd walked to the opposite corner of Ravage and lined himself up with the ladder. The crowd’s buzz had turned into a hush as they all collectivly held their breath when Newbludd sprinted forward…

    After a few quick steps, Brock leaped up and stuck his legs out to dropkick the bottom end of the ladder, looking to ruin Ravage by doing a baseball slide to send the ladder straight into his exposed face…

    Brock connected squarely with the ladder as he hit the mat, sending it sliding right towards Ravage’s head! But, the Savage of the RIng had presence of mind enough to see it coming and did a sit up to pull himself up right before impact! The ladder slid underneath the turnbuckle and made a loud CLANG as it connected with the ring post!

    Newbludd screamed in pain right when the ladder hit the unforgiving post to badly jam his knee on the other end! Clutching his knee, Brock got back to his feet and began to hobble around to walk it off. Grabbing the ropes, Newbludd held his knee up and moved it back and forth, checking the damage. Putting his foot back down, Brock let go of the ropes and turned around…

    To receive a ladder right in the face from Ravage!

    The Savage of the Ring had the ladder placed on his shoulder like a battering ram, and his first initial shot had caused Newbludd to start bleeding from the forehead. Taking a few steps back, Ravage charged in again and rammed the ladder into Newbludd again! Lucky for Brock, he was able to get his hands up just in time to cushion some of the blow, but Ravage hit him hard enough to send him flying over the ropes!

    Brock tumbled over the ropes and looked to be headed to the floor, but instinct kicked in and he grasped the top rope as he head over. Feet dangling, a bloodied Brock hung on to the ropes for a second as blood began to pour down his face and onto his chest. Then, the crowd got behind him as he began to skin the cat!

    Seeing Brock pulling himself back in, Ravage threw down the ladder and dashed over to ropes. Perfectly timed, Ravage was able to reach Newbludd just as he was flipping over back into the ring. Newbludd’s eyes went wide with surprise when he realized that he didn’t land back onto the mat, but instead he flipped right onto Ravage’s shoulder!

    With an iron grip, Ravage situated Newbludd on his shoulder and spun around back towards the ladder lying on the mat. Taking a few quick steps, Ravage dove down with Newbludd on his shoulder…

    RUNNING POWERSLAM ONTO THE LADDER!

    HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

    Ravage drove Newbludd into the ladder and Brock’s back made a sick thud upon impact! Rolling off of Brock, Ravage used the ropes to pull himself back to his feet while Brock squirmed in pain and rolled off the ladder as he held his back. Looking to keep the pressure on, Ravage sprinted over and leaped over the ladder to hit Newbludd with a knee drop right into Brock’s back!

    Getting back to his feet, Ravage grabbed Brock’s jammed knee and stuck in between the legs of the ladder. Newbludd tried to free his leg, but Ravage was the quicker and stomped down hard on the ladder, smashing Brock’s knee!

    Brock screamed out in pain, and boos rained down on Ravage as he continued to stomp down on the ladder. Finally satisfied with his work, Ravage backed away and pointed up to the Blitzkrieg title hanging high above him.

    “Time to put you away, boy!” Ravage screamed at Newbludd, who had finally managed to free his leg from the ladder, and now laid on his side clutching it.

    Stomping over to Brock, Ravage lifted him up and hooked both of Brock’s arms with his and then positioned himself so that the ladder was behind him….

    V FOR VICTORY ON THE LADDE---NO! NEWBLUDD REVERSED IT!

    Brock’s survival instincts kicked in, and just as Ravage was about to break Newbludd’s face on the ladder with his patented double underhook DDT, Brock was able to get an arm free! Using his free hand to fire punches into Ravage’s kidney, Newbludd then wriggled his second arm free. Knee still weak, Brock looked like he was going to crumple back down to the mat. But, before he did he grabbed Ravage by the ankles and jerked upwards with all his might, causing the Savage of the Ring to fall backwards and land right on top of the ladder!
    Hitting the back of his head hard on one of the ladder rungs, Ravage was dazed. Struggling to his feet, Brock limped over and hooked both of Ravage’s legs under his arms before falling backwards to catapult Ravage right back into the exposed turnbuckle!!!

    Ravage’s skull bounced off of the steel for a second time which led him to stumbling backwards and falling flat on his back to end up spread eagle on the mat. Meanwhile, Brock had staggered to his feet, and once again was checking his knee. Slowly moving it back and forth, Newbludd winced in pain. Then, he looked up to his Blitzkrieg title hanging above his head and a look of determination washed over him.

    Looking back down to his injured knee, Brock suddenly sprinted to the ropes and bounced off of them, and then hit opposite side before stopping in the middle of the ring. Even with a noticeable limp, Newbludd still looked quick and it appeared that he was going to fight through the pain, no matter what.

    Ravage had began to stir and pick himself back up. Newbludd rushed over to him and stuck Ravage’s head between his legs and began to lift him up…

    PILEDRIVER!

    Blitz1


    The classic move was as devastating as ever, and Brock rolled away from Ravage before getting back to his feet. Grabbing the ladder, Brock walked over to a turnbuckle and leaned it into the corner at an angle. Hobbling back over to the still down Ravage, Brock picked his opponent back up.

    Newbludd glanced at the leaning ladder for one quick second before irish whipping Ravage towards it. Things didn’t go the way Brock had planned when in a burst of adrenaline, Ravage RAN UP THE LADDER AND LEAPT OFF TOWARDS THE CAGE!

    Soaring through the air with his arms outstretched, Ravage hit the side of the cage about halfway up and hung on!

    HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

    Newbludd couldn’t believe it, and it appeared as if Ravage couldn’t either! Getting his bearings, Ravage then began to slowly climb upwards towards the ceiling of ladders.

    In a panic, Brock rushed over to the ladder and grabbed it. Looking at Ravage slowly make his way up the cage, Newbludd had to act fast if he wanted to prevent his opponent from getting to the top of the Laddervault where the Blitzkrieg title was.

    Newbludd took his eyes from his enemy to stare down at the ladder he held in his hands. Taking a deep breath Newbludd adjusted the ladder in his hands before raising it high above his head. Focusing in on Ravage, who was still struggled his way upwards, Brock took a few quick steps back with the ladder still held above his head. Suddenly Brock charged forward before letting out a roar and THROWING THE LADDER AT RAVAGE!

    The ladder flew like a javelin through the air and Newbludd’s aim was true as he hit The Savage of the Ring square in the back, causing him to lose his grip! The ladder tumbled to the floor and Ravage was soon to follow, landing right on top of it!

    BLITZ BLITZ! BLITZ!

    Ravage groaned as he rolled off the ladder and onto the ringside floor while Brock rolled underneath the ropes to make his way towards him. Reaching Ravage, Brock picked him up to his feet and tossed Ravage into the side of the cage. Charging in, Newbludd threw a shoulder into Ravage’s gut before unleashing with rights and lefts to the face!

    Newbludd continued to pummel Ravage until the Savage of the Ring was able to get a hand up to deflect one of Brock’s incoming punches and then connected with a wild headbutt that sent Newbludd stumbling backwards. Wiping the blood from his eyes, Ravage let out a snarl before locking his arms around Brock and driving Newbludd into the side of the ring apron!

    Delivering a sharp elbow to the side of Brock’s head, Ravage then followed that up by grabbing Brock and whipping him into the ringpost! Brock’s head bounced off of the steel post, causing him to stumble around and fall into the cage. Ravage then rushed in to keep the barrage going, but Brock lashed out at the charging Ravage with a SUPERKICK!

    MISS! Ravage ducked it!

    Brock’s desperation kick sailed over Ravage’s head. Sliding around Brock, Ravage lifted Brock up into the torture rack position before delivering a REVERSE DEATH VALLEY DRIVER INTO THE SIDE OF THE CAGE!

    Brock slammed awkwardly against the cage before crumpling down to the floor. Picking himself back up, Ravage gave Brock a few kicks in the ribs for good measure before bringing a groggy Newbludd back to his feet. Spinning around to face ring post, Ravage landed a fist in Brock’s gut before picking him up….

    Ravage lifted Newbludd high, and it was clear his goal was to POWERBOMB BROCK INTO THE RINGPOST!

    The crowd roared when at the last second, Newbludd reached out and grabbed the cage, effectively stopping Ravage from sending him into the post. Still sitting on Ravage’s shoulders, Newbludd punched viscously with one hand, while he gripped the cage with the other. Struggling to defend himself, Ravage relented and dropped Brock. On his way down, Brock was able to get an arm wrapped around his opponents head….

    IMPLANT DDT! Ravage’s head made a sick crunching sound as it smacked the hard ground!

    Staggering back to his feet, Brock stared down at the unmoving Ravage and then looked over to another one of the ladders that had been setup around the ring during the prematch. Newbludd dropped a quick elbow onto Ravage before making his way over to the ladder. Dragging the standing ladder closer to his fallen opponent, Brock began to climb up the ladder.

    Reaching the top of the ladder, Newbludd stuck his arms out to balance himself at the very top, his gaze locked in on the still prone Ravage. Taking a deep breath Newbludd cocked his knees and prepared to leap off...when suddenly Ravage’s eyes opened!

    Seeing Newbludd perched high above him, Ravage instinctively lashed out with his leg and kicked the bottom of the ladder! Brock had to cancel his flight as he reached down to hang on to the wobbling ladder, trying not to tumble off. Kicking the ladder once more, Ravage caused the ladder to wobble from side to side even more! Now Brock was trying to just hang on as he was trying to climb his way back down.

    But, Ravage had bought enough time to crawl to his knees and with that, he grabbed the bottom of the ladder and pushed it over sending Newbludd flying towards the cage! And now it was Brock who showed great agility by grabbing the cage to hang on!  Nearly ten feet up the cage, Newbludd almost lost his grip and hung briefly by one hand before getting his other hand locked into the chain link.

    Looking down to see Ravage getting to his feet, Brock pushed off of the cage and twisted into the air as he soared down towards him!

    CROSSBODY OFF THE CAGE!!! NO! RAVAGE CAUGHT HIM!!!

    In a astounding show of strength Ravage caught Brock! Holding Brock in his arms, Ravage roared as he ran forward and sent both men CRASHING THROUGH THE CAGE DOOR!!

    THIS IS AWESOME! CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP! THIS IS AWESOME!

    The door to the cage simply exploded off the hinges, and both men spilled out to land on top of it. Both bloodied and battered competitors writhed in pain on top of the cage door, but it was Ravage who staggered to his feet first. Giving Newbludd a few swift kicks, Ravage then picked up his opponent and then lifted him up high…

    BRAINBUSTER ONTO THE CAGE DOOR!

    The frenzied crowd let out a chorus of boos as a crimson masked Ravage stood over Brock and spit on him! Laughing out to the crowd, Ravage gave them a middle finger before spitting on Brock one more time.

    “You can’t beat me Brock!” Ravage screamed at Brock before stomping him a couple more times, “I’m a LEGEND!”

    Grabbing Brock by the arms, Ravage lifted him up and looked out to the crowd and smiled, the white of his teeth contrasted brightly against his blood covered face. Locking his arms, Ravage looked to put Brock away with a V FOR VICTORY!

    Newbludd broke free from the hold again!

    Wiggling free, Brock fell to his knees and shot a fist upwards hitting Ravage in the throat! Grabbing Ravage’s legs, Brock yanked upwards and sent Ravage down. Wrapping Ravage’s legs around his arms, the crowd cheered when Newbludd then spit directly into the face of Ravage before flipping him over and locking him into a TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!

    Ravage screamed in pain as Brock torqued as far back as he could on the hold. Newbludd continued to apply as much pressure as he could for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was about twenty seconds. Then, Newbludd screamed in rage and started hammering down with one fist onto one of Ravage’s knees before finally releasing the hold!

    Standing up, Brock staggered forward and had to catch himself on the ringside barrier to prevent from falling over. The brutality of the match combined with blood loss had taken it’s toll on both competitors. Looking down at Ravage who was holding his knee on the ground, Brock then looked up to the Blitzkrieg title and pointed his finger up to it, causing the crowd to burst out in cheers!

    Lumbering over to the side of the cage, Newbludd began his ascent to the top. Each grasp of the chain link looked harder than the next as Brock slowly made his way up. About halfway up Brock lost his grip and nearly fell, catching himself at the last moment. Holding on to the cage, the camera zoomed in on Brock’s face to show the internal battle of will he was having. The fans saw it on the Epicenter screen and started to rally around Brock.

    NEW-BLUDD! NEW-BLUDD! NEW-BLUDD!

    The crowd’s chants lit a fire in Brock, and he resumed struggling his way up the cage, but it also put a stir in Ravage who crawled over to the cage and began climbing as well!

    Seeing Newbludd getting closer to the top, Ravage dug deep and had an adrenaline rush causing him to close the gap on Brock. Getting to the top, Brock threw one leg over and pulled himself up onto the dangerous roof of ladders. Newbludd laid on his back for a few seconds before carefully rolling over onto his stomach and bringing himself to his feet.

    Being careful to secure his footing and not fall through one of the rungs of the ladders, Brock could see the Blitzkrieg title hanging in front of him only a mere ten feet away and he started to make his way towards it. The crowd let out another roar, causing Brock to stop in his tracks and turn his head behind him to see Ravage standing on top of the cage as well.

    Newbludd looked one more time at his title, before turning to face his bitter enemy. Standing his ground, Brock signaled Ravage to bring it and The Savage of the Ring smiled at Brock as he came at him.


    The arena brightened with flashbulbs as the two men began trading blows as they struggled to keep their balance. One wrong step could spell disaster as they fought on top of the ladders, and each man focused on their footing as much as they focused on pounding their fists into each other. With every landed shot, a mixture of blood, sweat and spit flew off each combatants head.

    Ravage was slowly pushing forward, slowly taking both men closer to the hanging title belt. Brock ducked a left hook, and was able to stun Ravage with a quick jab to the nose. Brock looked to capitalize with a haymaker when suddenly one of his feet slipped causing Brock to bend over to catch his balance and that was the opening that Ravage was looking for all match…

    V FOR VICTORY!!!

    The crowd let out a collective gasp as Ravage smashed Brock’s head into the roof of ladders! Miraculously, the ladders withstood the impact, and only bent slightly. Brock was laid out, his arms hanging down between the ladder rungs. Some nice camera work from inside the ring showed that his bloodied face held nothing but a blank stare. The cameraman was also given a surprise when the blood dripping off Brock’s face fell down like rain drops and splattered right on his lens.

    Ravage laid next to Brock as he held his back. Carefully rolling over, to lie right next to his bitter rival, Ravage smiled at his handiwork and began to slowly get to his feet. Standing up, Ravage could see the Blitzkrieg championship was now only a couple of steps in front of him. Looking confident, The Savage of the Ring took his first step towards victory. Then he took his second step and began to reach out towards the hanging title.

    Newbludd slowly picked his head up to see that he was mere seconds away from losing the match…

    Ravage took another step forward and his fingertips were inches away from the belt, he was going to be the new Blitzkrieg Champion!

    Brock let out an animalistic roar as he somehow popped up to his feet!

    Ravage hesitated for a moment before reaching out with both hands to grab the belt..

    NO! Right before Ravage could get a grip on the title both of his arms jerked backwards!

    Brock had him in a standing full nelson!

    FENRIS-PLEX!! NO! RAVAGE BACK FLIPPED THROUGH IT TO LAND ON HIS FEET!

    In an unbelievable counter of the modified dragon suplex, Ravage had landed both feet perfectly on the ladders! Although the move had sent him only a couple feet from the edge, and he wobbled back and forth, desperately trying to regain his balance.
    Waving his arms back and forth to get back his equilibrium, Ravage had his head down to help center himself and he didn’t see Brock stagger back to his feet…

    Finally getting himself situated, Ravage looked up ready to take the fight back to Brock…

    SUPERKICK! NEWBLUDD SUPERKICKED RAVAGE!

    The kick caught The Savage of the Ring square in the jaw! Brock lost his balance from the kick, and his planted foot slipped off and fell between the ladder rungs. Newbludd looked like he was going to fall through the ceiling down to the mat, but at the last second he was able to catch himself.

    The crowd’s roar was deafening and Newbludd’s eyes looked like they were going to burst out of his head when he looked up to his opponent…

    The kick had sent Ravage stumbling backwards. Waving his arms frantically, Ravage was grabbing at air until suddenly one foot slipped off the edge…

    AND RAVAGE FELL OFF THE LADDERVAULT!

    Blitz2


    The Savage of the Ring’s body made a sick splat as it crashed into the thinly padded ringside floor. Ravage breathed heavily as he rolled onto his side, holding himself from the pain.

    HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

    Brock couldn’t believe it as he climbed up to his feet. Newbludd ran a hand through his blood matted hair as he looked down at his broken opponent. Shaking his head, Brock turned around to face his title belt.

    With the crowd urging him on, Brock slowly walked towards his title. Reaching out as he got close, the crowd exploded when he unstrapped it!

    “The winner of this Championship bout….and STIIIILLLLL the NBW Blitzkrieg Champion…”The Innovator” Broooock Neeeewbluudd!” Brent Williams bellowed out to the delight of the fans.

    A battered Newbludd soaked in the cheers and pumped his fist to the crowd while he held the belt up high with his other hand. After a few more moments of celebration, Brock limped his way to the edge and began to climb down. While the exhausted Brock slowly climbed down, a team of NBW EMT’s carrying a stretcher rushed through the curtain and sprinted over to check on the downed Ravage, who was still laying facedown on the floor.

    Just as the medical staff reached Ravage, Sally Renolds  also made her way onto the stage and hurried down the ramp. Renolds had a look of concern on her face as she watched Brock nearly fall over as his feet hit the floor. Using the cage to support himself, Brock managed to smile through the pain when his girlfriend reached him. Brock handed Sally the Blitzkrieg title, before throwing an arm around her. Sally slung the belt over her shoulder before putting her hands on Brock’s side to help support him.

    Looking over to his fallen opponent, Brock looked relieved when he saw that Ravage was now sitting up and talking to the trainers and EMT’s. Then in a show respect, Brock joined in with the crowd’s applause as Ravage was lifted to his feet and placed on the stretcher. Even Sally, who suffered greatly at the hands of Ravage, gave an approving nod. Turning their attention away from Ravage, the two began to head up the ramp. Even using Sally as a crutch, Newbludd winced in pain with every hobbled step.

    Reaching the top of the ramp, they turned around to acknowledge the crowd one last time and Newbludd threw a fist in the air while Sally held up the belt. Suddenly, the crowd’s cheering switched to intense booing. Brock and Sally exchanged a confused look, before turning around to see Big Rick Strongbern and Little Ricky Strongbern stomping their way towards them. Brock told Sally to get behind him, and she quickly did.

    “Strongbern!? The fuc--” Newbludd began but was cut-off by Big Rick’s signature booming voice.

    “SHUTUP BROCK! I’M STILL OWED A REMATCH FROM SCORCHED, BUT FIRST YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR PUTTING ME IN THE HOSPITAL!”

    “You can have it shitstain! So why don’t you and---” Brock was cut off again as Big Rick yelled out a roar and charged in at the battered Blitzkrieg champion. Strongbern wasn’t there to talk, he was there for revenge.

    Sally let out a frightened yelp and ran back down the ramp, while Newbludd tried the best he could to brace for impact. With the charging Strongbern closing in, the crowd exploded in cheers and a smile grew on Brock’s face when he looked up to the stage

    SMACK!

    THUD! THUD! THUD!

    Confusion hit Big Rick, and he put on the brakes before snapping his head backwards to look up to the stage to see the man who pinned him earlier in the night, Jonny Bedlam standing next to Little Ricky, who was now slumped over the blackjack table, right next to a dented steel chair.

    “BEDLAM!!??” Strongbern howled in anger.

    “Shrimpfart! You think you can punch a guy in the nuts and get away with it!?” Bedlam answered back before grabbing Little Ricky by the back of the head and slamming it into the table a few more times.

    THUD! THUD! THUD!

    Big Rick looked back to Brock, who grinned back at Big Rick while he leaned on the ramp barrier to help keep himself up.

    “I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU!” Big Rick screamed at Brock before taking a few steps towards Bedlam.

    SMACK!

    The crowd exploded in cheers when Sally Reynolds ran up the ramp and hit Big Rick in the back of the head with the Blitzkrieg title! While not the most powerful blow, it still was enough to send Strongbern stumbling forward. Seeing his opportunity, Bedlam lined up Strongbern, and for the second time that night Jonny destroyed Big Rick with the Bethlem Royal Hospital!!!

    Looking down at the fallen Strongberns, Bedlam softly chuckled before looking up to Brock and Sally.

    “Remember this champ, you owe me.” Bedlam said matter of factly.

    “Fair enough, first round is on me.” An exhausted Brock said as he and Sally made their way up to him.

    “That’s a good start!” Bedlam said jokingly as he gently knocked his fist on the Blitzkrieg belt on Sally’s shoulder and gave Newbludd a wry smile.

    Brock raised his eyebrow at Jonny, as he watched him admire the title. Locking eyes with him, Brock returned Jonny’s grin and clapped him on the shoulder.

    “Let’s go get that drink then.” Newbludd replied before grabbing the title off of Sally’s shoulder to raise it high in the air to the cheers of the crowd, while Jonny jumped back on top of the blackjack table to raise his fists as well. Panning over to the downed Big Rick, the camera began to slowly fade out as it zoomed in closer and closer on his blank, unconscious face.

     

    Itís Dangerous to Go Alone, Take This Tournament

     

    Starting from the base of a rich oak desk, the camera craned skyward to reveal the nameplate sitting precariously at the edge, "General Manager Jack Harmen." The nbW faithful popped at a sighting of their GM and Hall of Famer, who hadn't been seen in quite some time. Harmen, looking as busy as ever, doing his best to appear busy while actually doing nothing. It was a tactic he'd perfected as a child in order to avoid any semblance of the word "work." Part of the reason why he hasn't been seen in ages. Another reason?

    "Hey Richie." Harmen said, not taking his eyes away from his laptop as he shuffled a bunch of blank papers. "I really like that new security force we hired." Richie Keal shuffled out from the corner of the office, wearing a dunce cap. "It lets me get a lot more..." Harmen pulled at the collar of his pink bow tie keeping together his three piece suit. "Uhm, work, done. Yes." The camera dollied around behind Harmen, framing an over the shoulder shot of Jack watching 'Dr. Phil.' Harmen nodded to Richie, "These people are crazy. Did you know he's been on the air for 15 seasons?"

    "President Harmen," Richie said, nodding slightly as Harmen smiled at the forced show of respect Richie showed. "Uh, you are aware we're paying for the security force that has been keeping the nbW wrestlers away from you for the past few months out your personal fund, right?"

    Harmen narrowed his eyes and blinked. "Yes." Harmen sneered, agitated. "And?"

    "And..." Richie gulped. "Your credit card expired yesterday..."

    Then it happened.

    “Hey, Father Time, Guy!”

    When Max Hopper walked in, Harmen’s eyes bulged out of the sockets, like he had just been caught with his pants down. Pumpkin spice latté spewed all over the room. Richie took this time to quietly exit unnoticed by his boss.

    “Max Hoppa! What brings you here, Space Pimp?” Harmen asked, standing to his feet and extended his hand to the perplexed Max. Harmen frowned, raising a finger, “Wait a minute… Don’t you mean, ‘Moth Man?’ It’s me, the Moth Man, remember?“

    Max Hopper’s eyebrows twisted as he inspected Jack Harmen. “Hmm. Nope. Moth Man’s hair was green, and he was much, MUCH younger. He didn’t have those lines all over his face,” Hopper said, getting ALL UP in High Flyer’s face to get a good view of his laugh lines. Harmen frowned, which only showcased the age of his face further. “You’re clearly the Guardian of the Gateway to the Past, Holder of the Keys to the Future, and Disgruntled Groundskeeper of All Time Itself. I’d recognize that angry old man, shaking his fist every time I travel through time, yelling at me to keep off his lawn, anywhere! And trust me when I say that angry old man is YOU. You know most people don’t realize that there are lawns in the realm of time...”

    Clearly and rightfully offended by being called old, Harmen, who had done his fair share of time travel himself, put his face back to his “paperwork,” yet again bursting into laughter. “Ahem. As you can see, I’m very busy here, Max. So please hop back in your time travel whatsits machine and come back sometime in my future. It'll be instantaneously for you.”

    “Okay, sorry Father Time, guy, but time is of the essence. We don’t have anymore of it. Hey, why are you laughing at your paperwork, anyway?” Hopper queried… CURIOUSLY!

    “It’s none of your business,” Harmen snapped back, shutting his laptop and picking up a blank stack of paper. “And time is relative, so stop wasting mine. What do you want?”

    “Alright, Guy, it’s like this,” the Space Pimp began. “There’s a tournament coming up, and it’s KEY to the life as we know it that I am in it. I just need you to make sure that I get a spot so I can do my thing and save the world from being enslaved by hyperintelligent octopus overlords from the Crab Nebula. Can you do that for me? Can you get me into that tournament?”

    Harmen squinted. “I thought the octopus overlords came from the Ant Nebula?” Harmen looked up as if seeing a light bulb. “A tournament you say? I hadn’t had the idea yet, but, it’s a good one.”

    “You hadn’t had the idea? Hmm. I might be breaking the temporal prime directive more than I should be, but look, Father Time, there’s going to be a tournament soon. And I need to be in it. I did just beat a former World, Keystone, and Blitzkrieg Champion, so what do you say? Can I get a spot in the tournament? It’s pretty imperative, you know, to time and space and stuff,” Max pleaded.

    "I told you to come back later. It was to avoid paradoxes." Harmen crossed his arms over chest. “Now, there's no telling what I'm going to eat for dinner next Thursday." Harmen sneered. He eyed up Max from head to toe and nodded. “Yet, that’s no reason to disrupt the fourth dimension further. Who knows, we could get booted from Hulu and wind up on Sling. Nobody knows what Sling is…” Harmen rubbed the back of his head. “Alright. I’ll set up a tournament, about something, for something, sometime in the near future…” Harmen’s eyes narrowed. “Did the future old man version of me give you any idea what this tournament was supposed to be about? Or did he just yell at you to get off his time lawn?” Harmen looked off fondly, lost in fantasy.

    “You’ll know by... “ Max looked at his watch. “Hey, can I borrow a piece of paper and a pencil? I have to crunch some figures real quick.” Hopper snatched a piece of paper and a pencil off of High Flyer’s desk and got to work, his tongue protruding from his mouth as he was deep in thought. “Carry the 1… Dot the i… Cross the t… Account for the covariant of the local sports team’s record last season in ratio to the density of the moon…” Max looked up, having proudly finished. “Two weeks! You’ll have the idea and the tournament will be announced by the next episode of Slam!”

    Harmen nodded to Max and shouted, “Hey Richie! Get in here!”

    Richie rushed back into the room, tripping over a janitors mop bucket. “Yes sir.” Richie looked wildly around the room and began to wring out his pants. “I just finished organizing that produce for you. I don’t know why you like to put the oldest tomatoes in the front…”

    “So they get used. Duh.” Harmen sneered. “Alright Richie, your next task is a big one. I’m putting an awful lot of trust in you. I need you to book me a tournament. Try to get Max in it, or the world might end.”

    “I’m sorry?” Richie frowned. “What scientific basis does that conclusion draw from?”

    Harmen laughed, nudging Max in the shoulder. “The young protege thinks he knows more about time and space than us.”

    “Kids these days,” Hopper joked.

    Max and Harmen both let out deep belly laughs. Harmen stopped on a dime and turned to Richie. “I pay you to work, not to think!” Richie seemed deeply hurt by this, so Harmen came to his side and put his arm around his shoulder. He lightly play punched him in the chin. “So, kiddo, go save all of time and space.”

    “Thanks, Father Time, Guy!” the Space Pimp nodded.

    And with that, Jack Harmen had gotten Max Hopper out of his hair.

    Harmen quickly took out his wallet and handed Richie his credit card. "I want turrets, I want snipers. No one gets past that front door ever again. I don't care if they have a time machine or NOT."

    Appearing directly behind Harmen was the Paranormal Investigator, MaX-Files, Max Hopper from 2008. Jack turned away from the door as Richie exited and noticed the young Hopper standing before him. Young Hopper waved excitedly.

    Jack did a double take, looking back to the door, before looking back at Hopper... who had mysteriously vanished.

     

    You FAILED

     

    "Daddy!" The voice belonged to one Cassie as she ran the corridors of the Thomas & Mack Center, before stopping near the EMTs and Ambulance where Ravage was being carted in. "LET HIM GO!"

    She screamed and clawed at the nearest person, until Ravage opened his eyes and waved them off: "Give me a moment with my daughter guys."

    With a shrug to one another they stepped away and Cassie jumped up on the back bumper of the Ambulance.

    "I see that went well, Daddy."

    "-" Ravage remained silent.

    "You failed."

    He cast his eyes to the side, avoiding her glare.

    "You failed, D...a...d...d...y." she said while leaning down close.

    She gripped him by the chin and turned his head to face her.

    "No," Ravage stated, "you did. You were supposed to be out there. The HMMS were supposed to be out there. Newbludd should never have made it to the top of the Laddervault. You failled, Cass... Bethany."

    "I failed?" She looked at him, then down the length of his body which was strapped down making movement impossible. "You and I agreed, specifically mind you, that I would not be physically harmed. At all. And you let that CUNTY wrinkled bag of bones fat ass Sally Renolds SPANK ME!"

    "I was busy-"

    "You failed me, your family, and your fans... and most importantly you failed your pathetic daughter-"

    She couldn't get the next word out before Ravage's hand managed to clutch her wrist and squeeze it hard.

    "Watch it." He stated, no longer with a look of dispair. "This is your only warning."

    "Fine." She yanked her arm free, as he released. "We're done. The contract is terminated, old man."

    "-" he remained silent for the moment.

    "Once they let you free, I want my final payment delivered as agreed."

    She jumped down from the Ambulance, taking her time to pull the ties out of her hair and let it flow free. Turning back she smiled: "Nice working with ya'." And with that she walked around the Ambulance towards the front and on towards the exit as the EMTs returned to finish securing Ravage, before the doors swung shut.

    Fade.

     

    Ali Amore Versus Benjamin Jones

    Keystone Championship

     

    In all truth, Ali Amore and Benjamin Jones hadn't interacted each other with a while; Ali had been suffering from the injury he sustained in their maiden clash at Scorched and Benjamin Jones, a bona fide celebrity, had been multi-tasking and working on numerous projects.

    While there will be more heated feuds on this show, this bout contained two of the roster's most capable athletes and don't forget it was for this company's secondary strap.  That in itself counted for something.

    A rundown:  Ali Amore doubted his own credentials as a top-level performer here in nbW.  Benjamin Jones, sensing a big-money battle, convinced the Colombian to stay and face him.  They did at Scorched with the vacant Keystone crown an enticing reward for the winner.

    Totally contradicting his own claim, Amore added another memorable moment to his fantastic career in No Brand by beating Benjamin and joining a select group to hold the World and Keystone titles.

    So, no matter what happens tonight, that'll always be part of Ali's legacy. 

    But, Benjamin could add yet another reign to his list of impressive accomplishments and do it on the grandest stage of them all - ultimately giving him what he wanted.

    1.  A win over Ali Amore.
    2.  The Keystone title.

    No more to be said.  This has been a long night in Las Vegas and this could be a long fight.  Let's find out.

    ďGenesisĒ by Justice

    Flanked by Smitty, Chris, Deke and Mateo, 'Bounty Hunter' Benjamin Jones, decked out in a white robe with a blue trim, held the hand of his manager and girlfriend, Dina St. James, for one of the biggest nights of the KO King's career.

    His hangers-on had all of their readies with them and BJ, once a fan-friendly fighter here in nbW, didn't let the negative reception affect him in the slightest, ascending the steel stairs without missing a step and stepping between the ropes, accepting no adulation, but aqua, a gumshield and a rubdown from the four-strong supporting cast.  Not to mention a kiss from the lioness herself, Dina.

    "From Albuquerque, New Mexico...weighing in at two hundred and forty-three pounds.  Accompanied to the ring by Dina St. James and Club KO...THE BOUNTY HUNTER, BENJAAAAAAMIN JOOOONES!!!"

    Some shadow boxing ensued.  Benjamin looked ready to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

    He'd have to go through this man first.

    'That's Amore'

    The sweet Italian chimes and Dean Martin's soothing voice brought out the Keystone champion, Ali Amore, who should've saved the Bailando entrance for tonight.  Despite this being a big match-up, both men were treating Legacy as an ordinary night and this as a regular fixture.  That may make sense to these championship athletes.

    "From Bogotá, Colombia...weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds.  The KEYSTONE CHAMPION...ALLLLI AMORRRRRRE."

    Speaking of that, Ali demonstrated his gifts by executing his customary forward flip into the ring.  At Scorched, the Colombian kick-started the match with a Suicide Dive.  Well, here, BJ had taken a leaf from his conqueror's playbook and was already in place to meet Amore from the get-go.

    However, Amore was quick enough in mind and in body to react and tried to resist the MMA specialist's invasion of space with a superb Roundhouse Kick.  Credit where it's due, Benjamin read that himself and took the titleholder down with a clever Drop Toehold.

    Jones straddled Amore from the back, no jokes please, and rained rock-solid elbows to the face until the official intervened and ordered Jones to stand up.  Early doors, the KO King did as he was told.

    When he was waved back in by the authority figure, Benjamin resumed his assault - or at least tried to - with a Suplex.  He got Ali up with consummate ease.  By the same token, AA landed on his feet flawlessly, escaping the predicament in mid-air.  Jones wouldn't let him rest, attempting a straightforward Lariat that Ali ducked underneath.  On the rebound...

    PELE Kick!

    It wobbled Jones without dropping him.  Ali sought to correct that, only to get caught steaming in with a wicked Snap Powerslam!

    Cross Armbreaker!

    Now, we're underway!  Club KO cheered their charge on, who was definitely no dummy and hadn't forgotten the arm he'd taken apart when we were last on pay-per-view and that Xiang had exploited in a subsequent showdown with the South American as well.  Fortunately for the champ, he was able to reach the ropes pretty quickly, the submission taking place towards the east side of the squared circle, and Jones was forced to release the hold, though not before putting an extra four and a half seconds in the bank for later.

    Amore took time out to attempt to get the feeling back.  So, why on earth did he go back into action with a Collar-and-Elbow?  That was anyone's guess, and the rhetorical question was proven correct when Benjamin forced him back into the bottom right-hand corner of the ring with next to no problem.

    A clean break was called - and observed - by the official.

    SLAP!

    Well, it had been to that point.  Jones decided to push his boundaries a bit there.  Amore, somewhat hot, was about to retaliate when Deke grabbed his leg and prevented him from doing so.  The referee, reprimanding Benjamin all the while, didn't see any of this transpire.

    To add injury to insult, Benjamin waded in with a fabulous Reverse Elbow to the jaw that caused the Colombian to drop instantaneously.

    Job done and a wink by BJ to Deke demonstrated the governor's appreciation.  Back to business with an Irish Whip by Jones, who followed Ali's progress closely, following up with a quick Clothesline in the opposite corner.  A wince by the champion was in contrast to the smile that enveloped the challenger's bracket.

    The KO King wound Amore's up with a couple of Wringers and pushed a palm striker into the upper arm to once again bring the Superstar of Bogota down to size.  Thereafter, he went back to the well by hyper-extending the arm and locking on a second Cross Armbreaker, seeking more success with this rendition.

    Ali wasn't going to just sit there and battled the submission gravely and bravely, repeatedly rejecting the referee's requests to end the encounter.  Summoning the strength from somewhere, the South American elevated the bout's bigger man into the air and Powerbombed him, provoking cheers from the capacity crowd and, above all, causing separation from the submission specialist.

    It wasn't without any cost: the Colombian flopped, favouring his arm.  Crucially, Jones rose to his feet a second before Ali did and regained the lead with a timely Dropkick to the upper arm, not too far away from the shoulder, and then returned to his feet looking for a profitable sequel.  It worked, albeit with a different take as Benjamin opted for a Shoot-Style Kick that felled the ex-World Champion and reigning Keystone kingpin.

    A couple of stomps and a Shoulderbreaker showed that Benjamin was systematically going about this task in an efficient manner to settle the score from Scorched.

    An arrogant 2-count was a smokescreen for...

    THE CLINCHER!

    The lethal Kimura Lock wasn't cinched in and the Colombian was able to scurry away and extend his leg, akin to when a heel raises it for extra leverage, to again save his own pancetta and frustrate the early aggressor.

    Not that Jones cut a moody figure, smiling at Ali instead and demonstrating how close he believed the champion came to submitting by showing a short space between his right index finger and thumb respectively.

    Knowing he was in control and that the champion was in deep water could console Jones.  With his tail up, he suggested an old-fashioned round of Roman Knucklelock.

    For some reason unbeknownst to the masses and confounding the experience and pedigree Ali possesses, Amore agreed.

    And, uncharacteristically, he took a shortcut by being the one to boot Benjamin in the abdomen with only one hand locked.  Not messing around, Amore steered Jones towards the ropes on the left-hand side of the ring and fired him into the opposing set, only to see it reversed...

    Ali slid through Benjamin's legs and once Benjamin, a tad slow to react, turned around, Amore executed a dazzling Hurricanrana.

    One...

    That's all.

    Remarkably, Jones stared at the official and questioned a quick count in spite of rebuffing it at a paltry 1.  He was rewarded with a SUPERKICK by Ali!

    The hangers-on outside, better known as Club KO, complained to an uninterested official about the Colombian capitalising.  Needless to say, Ali couldn't care either and built on his handiwork with a lovely Legdrop from the second rope. 

    One...

    T
    ...

    Not a marked improvement.  Anyway, Ali got on with his business, but bringing Benjamin up, he found his Snap Suplex attempt not only blocked - it would be countered as well.  The advantage shifted back to Benjamin, who took a moment out to assure Dina and his entourage that 'he had this.'

    A Divorce Court Armbreaker added weight to that claim.  Could it be here and now?

    One...

    Two...


    No, it would take a bit more than that.

    A Waistlock by Benjamin was stopped by a stiff elbow and then Ali switched positions with a go-behind of his own.  Jones reached for a leg.  Amore used his right one to kick Benjamin towards the ropes, who came back with ENORMOUS interest...

    ONE HITTER QU....

    CLOSE!

    Ali evaded a car crash with a smart backroll and a collective 'OOH' from Club KO may or may not mirror how close this contest was to being over. 

    Thankfully, the KO King kept his cool and waved Ali in, perhaps applying some kidology.  Either way, Amore took the bait and engaged in another Tie-Up, losing it in exactly the same fashion as earlier with Jones backing him into the north-east set of turnbuckles.

    A clean break, but Ali had at least learned his lesson in this department, denying a Benjamin punch and slapping him with supreme speed!  This ENRAGED Benjamin, who punched Ali over the top of the intervening official's head, sparking boos from several sections of the audience.

    Poor ref!  Ali wasn't taking that, not this time, and he shrugged the official aside to take Jones down where he stood and let the contender have it with five rapid blows to the head.

    Just as the crowd fed the energetic Amore more as he stood up...

    ACHILLES HEEL!

    Was this crowd in Las Vegas Ali's fundamental flaw?  He didn't have time to ponder that through the pain created by the devastating Heel Hook!

    Amore kicked with his free leg to secure freedom.  Albeit it with a slight limp, the South American sprinted away from Jones, clutching his face on the canvas, and punished him with a Springboard Moonsault...

    LEGS UP!

    Ah, though Amore also anticipated Benjamin's quick-thinking, thus landing on his feet.  Ali paved the way, stomping on Jones like a mule wiping its feet, and scoring with a Standing Moonsault instead!

    Uno...

    Dos...


    Try again, Ali.

    And Ali was also attempting to ignore his hurt arm.  Temporarily, he did, finding the strength to connect with his Snap Suplex, which wasn't resisted by his confident opponent on this occasion.

    The South American stood up.  When his rival did likewise, Amore was about to unleash a second, stunning Superkick...

    Only to have it foiled by a catch by Jones, whose baseball skills aren't his strong suit.  Judging on this evidence though.

    He pushed Ali, who did a backflip.  Benjamin careered towards him, only to be leap-frogged at the last possible seconds, clutching at air instead of Amore.  Conversely, Amore applied a Waistlock on Jones and took the Suplex specialist down with a German variation!  That'll gnaw at the number one contender.

    Instinctively, the Bounty Hunter retreated to a corner.  Thus far, Jones had been relentless and now it was Ali's turn...

    STINGER SPLASH!

    An Irish Whip to the diagonally opposite corner...

    Second Stinger Splash!!

    Benjamin strutted out of the corner on wobbly footing and fell flat on his face, like he'd had too much to drink.

    One...

    Two..
    .

    Ali grabbed Benjamin by the head for a Bulldog...No, the KO King pushed him off into the buckle shoulder-first, aggravating Amore's injury as a result.

    Turnabout is fair play...

    One German Suplex by Jones!

    Keystone1


    Two Germans!

    Eins...

    Zwei...


    Denied!

    Following the closest fall of the contest, the New Mexico MMA expert slowed proceedings down by wrenching on Ali's weak spot in the form of an Armbar.  A determined 4th Emergency Service tried to fight it, but Jones wrenched on the left arm further to nip that idea in the bud.

    In fact, Benjamin turned it into an Arm-Trap Choke.  That woke Ali up, ironically, and he fought his way free with three Elbows.

    Ali and BJ both stood up, Amore tying to escape and Jones giving chase, but Amore's superior speed told here and he drilled BJ with a DDT and then headed upstairs.  At last, he was able to take to the skies.

    Again, Jones rolled out of the way of a high-impact move.  Yet, like last time, Amore sensed it and converted the original Ghetto Stomp into a standing variation!

    UNO....

    DOS....


    NO!!

    Amore didn't give Jones any time to rest, burying a couple of knees deep into the abdomen and rounding the quick-fire combination off with a Gutbuster.

    Ali caught his breath while looking to take Benjamin's away from him, applying a Front Facelock and letting rip with several shots to the ribs.  BJ was feeling it.

    The champion whipped Benjamin to the buckle and steamed in head-first, catching the KO King in the stomach.

    SEVEN Punches!!!!!!!

    Keystone2


    The last Uppercut scooped Jones up onto the top turnbuckle, much to the crowd's amusement.  The Best Thing You've Seen in The Ring was all at sea!

    Creatively, the Colombian stepped up onto the second rope and jumped onto Jones with another Double Foot Stomp!

    As Benjamin fell south, Ali tried his luck...

    One...

    Two...


    That was close.

    Amore softened Jones up with another flurry, four-strong, to the ribs.  He then clearly wanted to take it to another level, figuratively and literally, by hoisting Benjamin back up on the second rope in search of a Superplex.  A couple of headbutts denied Ali momentarily...

    ENZUIGIRI!

    I did say momentarily!

    Both men fell to the canvas.

    The count was on.

    1...
    2...
    3...
    4...
    5...
    6...
    7....

    Ali crawled over and quashed that count by starting another, courtesy of a draped arm over Benjamin's beating chest.  Club KO could barely watch.

    One...
    Two...


    Benjamin was still in it.

    What Ali had in mind may put him out of this once and for all.

    AA was going up to the top.

    Cabin crew, we're set for landing.

    FROGSPLASH!!!!!  THAT'S AMORE!!!

    Ali had re-injured his arm.  The official asked if he were okay and Ali, grimacing, held the ravaged left with his functioning right, insisting he was going to continue, no matter what.

    Not only was he going to compete, he was going to win.

    Cover...

    1...

    2....

    3?!?!?!


    YEA...NO!

    That was an incredibly tight call.

    As Ali surveyed the wreckage...

    A survivor's hand emerged...

    THE CLINCHER!

    You've got to be kidding me! 

    From the jaws of defeat, could this lethal submission live up to is name and hand the Keystone crown to the KO King?

    Ali was set to win this and now he faced defeat squarely in the face as Club KO danced with a sprinkling of desperation and a handful of delight!

    Another Kimura.  It was locked on better, but not quite as Ali uses his free hand to relentlessly punch Jones in the face until the hold was broken.

    Back to square one.

    Both men were down in what had been a gruelling battle so far.  The worrying thing for our competitors, though not for our fans, was it looked like it was over on two occasions in less than a minute and now the finish line appeared to be further away than it had been before.

    As they broke an 8-count, a wild swing by Ali, normally measured with his punches, was punished...

    Belly-to-Belly by Benjamin!

    1....

    2...


    Not quite.

    EXPLODER!

    One...

    Two...


    Still not enough!

    Okay.  Jones tried a third Suplex in this sequence - and third overall of this kind in the match -

    GERMAN SUPLEX...Countered by a Victory Roll by Amore...

    1...

    2....


    He nearly nicked it from Jones there!

    Back and forth.

    Benjamin missed with another Clothesline and was promptly punished by a textbook Hangman's Neckbreaker.

    No wasted motion from Amore...

    Bulldog!

    1...

    2...


    NO!!!

    Ali set the table with a desire DDT.  Wait, no, it was countered by a Fisherman's Suplex for another 2-count.  When the combatants regained their vertical base, roughly at the same time, Benjamin finally fired a Clothesline in after failing to get one off in previous attempts.

    What succeeded that cracking shot was an Arm Wringer, no he hadn't forgotten, a series of repeated punches and a Wakigatame submission!

    With Amore's shoulders down, the referee registered 2 and it made Amore rally back against the move even more, eventually wriggling to the ropes and ultimately, safety.

    The New Mexico native kneed Ali to the ribs once the two gunslingers came together again, but Ali smacked him back with a straight right.  They traded three each until  Benjamin edged ahead with a kick to the shoulder, wise move my man, prior to tying the titleholder's weakened arm over the rope for leverage.

    Our authority figure broke this on four.  For good measure, Jones got a Chop off before whipping Ali into the ropes, who returned to form and evaded not only another Clothesline, but a Reverse Elbow, which had actually served Benjamin well in this clash...

    Spinebuster!

    He couldn't and didn't avoid that though!

    Cover by the KO King.

    1...

    2...


    Ali was down; not out. 

    Could a Butterfly Suplex remedy that?

    It connected so let's find out, shall we?

    1...

    2....


    No, it couldn't, though it wasn't far away.

    Jones smacked the canvas, born out of sheer frustration, and the audience mocked him for it.  He was averse to his crew members' words of encouragement, especially when he saw the South American stir.

    This was make or break.

    Ali was dead central.  Johnson jogged away, picking up pace until he was a juggernaut, a runaway train poised to WRECK Ali, emotionally and physically...

    ONE HITTER QUITTER!

    Benjamin's brutal yet beautiful signature Sliding Knee Strike had CONNECTED!

    Jigs and jumps of delight by Club KO as Jones scurried over to cover the unconscious Colombian and hook the leg...

    ONE...

    TWO....

    TH...
    AT'S IMPOSSIBLE! 

    ALI.  KICKED.  OUT.

    With his head nursing on Ali's chest, BJ shook his head and held up three fingers.  Heartbreakingly, the referee, amidst a crescendo of cheers from the majority of the Thomas and Mack Center crowd, reiterated it with an index finger and a thumb - the same fingers Jones had shown Ali at the outset of what was turning out to be a war.  He had done it to suggest Amore was that close to being locked in a submission.  More realistically, Jones had been much closer to going home with the Keystone crown.  Normally though, that strike puts people away and he didn't know what to do.

    His eyes bulged out of his head as the audience calmed down and it dawned on him that he hadn't got the job done - YET.

    Benjamin tested the water again with another cover.  Surely, it was a fluke?

    Uno...

    Due...


    Try again!

    No, it wasn't.  Benjamin rose to his feet, distressed, outraged and confronted the startled official, who took a step back, fearful of being a punching bag with the mood the KO King was currently in.

    His team were trying to reach out to him and when they gradually got his attention, the advice was clear:

    Make it a Two Hitter Quitter!

    Jones glanced at them all and accepted their universal and unison advice.  He'd been close.  There would be a cigar waiting for him if he simply repeated the feat.  He waited for Ali.

    Dina and Deke urged him NOT to wait.  "Pick him up, baby," Benjamin's manager and other half insisted.

    Benjamin listened to her and sat Ali up straight.  Throughout the contest, he'd poured it on and that approach would work better here.  Take two...

    ONE HITTER QUITTER FOR THE SECOND TIME!!

    In the nick of time though, Ali had sat up of his own accord and caught his rival's leg.  Standing up with Benjamin's pin intact, Amore was about to...

    ...get hit by an Enzuigiri!  The kind of move you'd expect from Ali himself!

    Could that do it?

    One...

    Two...


    No was the answer.  Club KO was going through the wringer here while Benjamin stomped the canvas with bitter disappointment.  He changed tact a wee bit, sending a dreamy Ali, surviving by the skin on his scrotum somehow, into the corner.  The expected Running Step-Up Knee Strike, not quite a One Hitter Quitter, might suffice...

    Only he missed.

    It gave our audience and Amore a glimmer of hope and Club KO, along with Benjamin, were on the backfoot again.  They knew their man had been in control for large portions and the closest to victory, conveniently ignoring Ali's flirtation with triumph after That's Amore, but what they were acutely aware of was Amore's ability to bounce back and win if you didn't seal the deal.  They'd seen that at Scorched.

    Benjamin was hobbling.  The Colombian kicked at his leg and then took him down with a decisive Dragon Screw Leg Whip!  A Seated Senton to the knee kept the KO King grounded.

    Just when you thought Ali was out, he pulled you back in.  Now, he was in the driver's seat as he ascended north, a place thousands upon thousands of spectators followed him to, in expectation.

    Perched up there, this was now do or die for Ali.

    SHOOTING STAR PRESS!!!  LIBERTY AND ORDER!!!

    Had order been restored for the champion?

    No, he'd hurt himself AGAIN.

    Meanwhile,  Dina was keeping her men, well Benjamin's boys, together.  In fact, the group had all jumped onto the apron as a gut reaction, only to be told to get down.  They did so when they realised the Colombian couldn't capitalise.

    Let the count and heavy breathing commence.

    1...

    2...

    3...

    4...

    5...

    6...

    7...

    8...

    Jones was waking up from a hangover.  Ali got up from one knee, his arm busted and battered...

    A kick by Jones won't help Ali's cause.  He fought through the pain and retaliated with a right hand.  Rinse and repeat.

    On the third round, Amore caught Benjamin's kick and when the second Enzuigiri attempt went awry, thus leaving the KO King on the floor, the 4th Emergency Service called in a marvellous Muta Lock!

    It was ON until Jones turned the tables on Ali, crawling out of a submission as the champion had done and reaching the promised land in the shape of the bottom rope, much to his and Club KO's relief.

    Ali released immediately.  He also resumed his intentions when Jones needed the ropes to stand up.  Benjamin ducked between the ropes as Amore stalked him, stealing some extra seconds.  Was he afraid of Ali?

    No!  He came forward, hoping to benefit from the brief delay and instead, got a taste of his own medicine as the South American surprised him with a Double Leg Slam, something we're used to seeing from the Bounty Hunter.

    The 4th Emergency Serviced whipped the attendees into a frenzy with a five-pronged right-handed attack after diving on his defenceless challenger.

    While Benjamin had assembled Club KO for valuable support, Ali had the majority of this terrific crowd to rely on and they urged the former Heavyweight and current Keystone belt-bearer to cash in on the Bounty Hunter!  Hunt the hunter!

    A Crossbody Block kept the bewildered and bruised Benjamin down.  It was Ali's time to shine.  Would it be with another Shooting Star? 

    Amore planted the pretender with a Reverse Swinging Tornado DDT and shook his arm, which was visibly bothering him, but not enough to halt the expected climb back to the top - in more ways than one.

    Let's try this again.

    Ali climbed to the summit, steadied himself and clutched his arm, a worrying sign ahead of take-off in which he'd have to use both to execute whatever it was he had in store for us.

    THAT'S AMORE!!!!!!!!!!

    Fortunately, his arm wasn't an issue upon that landing.  At the third time of asking, could Amore KO the KO King once and for all?

    ONE...

    TWO...


    Club KO couldn't look.  Dina was biting her nails.  Nobody uttered even a murmur over in that corner.

    THREE!!!

    The crowd did though, exploding with glee as Ali Amore, for the second time, had overcome the almighty 'Bounty Hunter' Benjamin Jones to RETAIN the Keystone title!

    Sat upright, Ali clutched the arm that had bothered him not just tonight, but ever since their initial meeting for the vacant prize.

    "And your winner of this Championship match, and STILL Keystone Champion... ALI AMORE!"

    The official, as he had done then, kindly raised the Colombian's other limb and helped him stand up, gaining a round of applause from the masses in the Thomas and Mack Center, not only for that, but a brave, battling and brilliant performance.

    Club KO, who had kept their beaks out besides one minor discrepancy at the beginning, had their mouths on the floor.  How could they pick Jones up after a second, successive harsh defeat when it could easily have been two in his favour?  They needed picking up themselves.

    If you include Benjamin's unsuccessful quest for Lucky Carter's World championship, this made it three failed title tilts for the Best Thing in a couple of months.  Where would he go from here?

    He hadn't been careful about what he'd wished for.  The Bounty Hunter had got greedy and wanted Amore as a name on his wish list, looking for easy money by beating on a guy in decline.  Instead, he'd been handed two defeats instead of claiming a notorious scalp.

    And what about Ali Amore's resurgence?

    Writing himself off, he didn't believe he belonged at the top level anymore until the KO King coaxed him out of an early exit.

    Here, on nbW's grandest stage, the former poster boy had proven once again why he'd become one of this promotion's most popular performers and a potential hall-of-fame inductee.

    In fact, while contrasting emotions would last long into the night, looking back on it, both Ali Amore and Benjamin Jones had added another chapter to their wonderful careers on this night.  They'd both been champions in nbW before this bout and would be remembered as such way after its conclusion.

    That was THEIR legacy.

     

    Hungrier

     

    Adria Hoyt was about to interview 'The First' Freddie Rich, the figurehead of this generation's Rich Family.

    Take it away, Adria.

    "I've interviewed this man on a number of occasions.  Freddie, what will make tonight different?"

    Rich wondered:  "Different to what?"

    Hoyt cleared her throat:  "Different to the last time you faced The Unstoppables?"

    Coming to terms with the disappointment at Scorched can't have been easy for Freddie or his relatives:  "We've regrouped.  We're more prepared and we're hungrier, if you can believe that, than these fat bastards.  Yeah, that's right.  There are more of us and we want it that bit more.  Sure, they've got power and size, but we've got brains and beauty, Adria.  We've tasted victory, defeat and everything in between.  We have never trained, none of us, like we have for tonight.  So, whether it's Declan and Todd, me and Donny or whoever...we'll be ready."

    With that, 'The First' strutted off, disinterested in answering Adria's queries.  Obligation fulfilled here.

    Would The Family get the job done in the ring with their second bite at the cherry?

     

    Mariella Jade Flair/Zhalia Fears/For The Win/Mitchell Quinlan Versus Michele Couli/Hellion Sisters/Crimson Tide

    Ten Person Tag Match

     

    Back to ringside we go as Brent Williams adjusted his tie and raised his tool of choice.

    “Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is a ten person tag team match, with the first pinfall to the finish and is scheduled with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first-”

    'Oh, oh, oh. Oh, Here we go.'

    The crowd came to to their feet with 'Pretty Little Psycho' by Porcelain Black, and the curtains were swooshed aside; out stepped the most energetic woman to step in the ring; much to many a person’s chagrin.

    "Currently on leave from the Broadmoor Institute in Crowthorne, at five foot eight, she is the Kimera... ZHALIA FEARS!"

    'Walkin', talkin' like you know...

    I want your
    Pretty Little Psycho.'


    Zhalia stopped at the middle of the stage, nursing her back from the earlier beating, she crooked her head to the left and peered over her shoulder just as her music was fading out and something else was overtaking it, Epidemic by New Year's Day.

    "And introducing her tag team partner-"

    'We are infected and no one is protected
    we're so, we're so contagious
    we're apathetic and no one's sympathetic
    we're so contagious
    you can't contain it,'


    The Unbranded, as she came to know the faithful that filled the Epic II Arena each and every week, lit up as the father's daughter, the former Second Coming, Mariella Jade Flair walked out to the stage.

    "-from New York, standing at five foot nine, she is the Second Coming, she is... MARIELLA JADE FLAIR!"

    'you know, you can't escape it
    we're so, we're so contagious
    our hearts betrayed us,
    and no one's gonna save us
    we're so contagious'


    Joining Fears, the two bumped fists and dashed down to the ring, sliding inside. Either taking to opposite corners where they leaped to the second buckle and tossed their arms in the air.

    “And their tag team partners-”

    ‘Hey Kids’ by JET.

    Pumped up and ready for a fight the other duo of gamers emerged on the stage. The red and blue haired phenomenons, the Sonic and Knuckles of the NBW.

    “At a combined weight of three hundred and ninety seven pounds, they are the team of Tony Spark and Chris Noid… they are... FOR THE WIN!

    The duo sprinted down the stretch and slid into the ring, immediately tossing their fists in the air and joining 2 Badass 4 A Name in the center, bumping fists and waiting their final tag team partner.

    “And their final partner of the evening-”

    Digging Deep by Jakalope

    A vocal section in the lower bowl of the Thomas and Mack Center erupted for that former Sin City Saint, the old Spirit of the Livewire.

    “Weighing two hundred and thirty seven pounds, hailing from Canada…. Mitchell Quinlan!

    Mitchell Quinlan strode from the back clad in the biker jacket and his usual fight gear. He had a look of reverence as he made his way down to his compatriots. Along the way, he was stopped by a sign along the rail that read, “Quinlan fears announce tables.” He tapped fists with the group of four for the inside joke referencing his many past dives out of the ring.

    “And their opponents-”

    ‘Frontline’ by Pillar.

    The cheers in the arena turned to boos and jeering by force when Zed stepped out on the stage, with Rune flanking him.

    “-at a combined weight of five hundred and twelve pounds, they are the ‘Paragon of the Industry’ Zed and Rune, they are… CRIMSON TIDE!

    The two waited atop as their music died off and was replaced with-

    ‘Confident’ by Demi Lavato.

    The fans continued to boo and jeer as the trio of women walked out on the stage. Dead-center was the Mascara Massacre Michelle Couli, flanked by her two cohorts in the Hellion sisters, Melantha and Circe.

    "And their tag team partners, 'The Mascara Massacre' Michelle Couli and The Hellion Sisters!"

    Leading the way Michelle held her left hand out at the crowd to her left, then the same to her right, making her way down the ramp to the ring. She wanted nothing of them tonight, like most nights, and therefore ignored their calls and jeers. The expressions of the two sisters never changing from the mostly emotionless stare into space, or at least at the ring they approached, those stares which could pierce her opponents very souls at that rate!

    Zed and Rune followed behind the three, and once at the ring pulling the ropes open for each to step inside. The five immediately getting into the grills of their opponents. Jack-jawing back and forth, while Couli and MJF got into a shoving match and Circe barked her worth at Fears. Quinlan stood toe to toe with Zed, not daring back down while the two enforcers in Melantha Hellion and Rune were met with the eager For The Win duo.

    The official Jerry Peterson got between them, eventually, and separated the teams off to their corners warning of disqualifying if they didn’t abide.

    With things finally somewhat ordered, Peterson called for the bell.

    Ding! Ding! Ding!

    In the ring stood Michelle Couli, and Quinlan opposite of her. The two approached each other, Quinlan with an outstretched fist, but Couli looked utterly confused by the sign of respect from a competitor.

    “That’s stupid,” she shrilled. “You are stupid.”

    With a shrug of his shoulders, Quinlan took back the outstretched fist and rose it snug to his chin, ready to fight.

    “Not you. I don’t want to fight you,” the microphones picked up. “I want her!” the Raven-Haired Beaut belted, calling out Zhalia Fears with a point. The crowd swelled with anticipation as Quinlan acquiesced to the friendly corner.

    Ms. Fears took but a few steps into the squared circle before Michelle Couli had backed away into her corner. With a slapping of hands, the anticipation of maybe, finally seeing resolution to a hatred that has simmered for months now had just shifted into a heavy, heavy chorus of boos for both Couli, and Zed, the now legal competitor.

    Zed sneered across the ring as he and Fears circled. Zhalia tossed a right hook when close enough, but Zed was able to swiftly duck beneath and take a rear waist lock. She struggled as he dug his fists tight in her abdomen before a finding escape via the ramming of the back of her head across the bridge of his nose. It’s not enough to draw blood, but the immediate forearm shot that followed aimed to do the job.

    Trying to keep the pace, momentum was switched when Fears got caught by Zed landing a leaping enziguri kick. To his feet quickly, he lifted and dropped her to canvas with a back suplex; Fears arching her back after the impact.

    Forearm underneath the chin, Zed kept the ‘action’ on the mat with a headlock bordering on choke. It seemed the night’s toll was too much for Zhalia, or it would if the woman was ever concerned with pushing herself through any limit, screw what tomorrow may bring.

    Away from the action, the sound of Christopher Noid stomping on the steps got the crowd to liven up after a spell of rest. Fears made the motions, from belly, to knee, then finally back upright as Zed continued with his grip. Reaching around for escape, Zed was conscious to keep his head far away from her’s, but with both arms still in use, his ribs were wide open.

    The crowd popped with each swing of Fears’ elbows. Left, then right. Left. Right. Left. And finally free, Zhalia tried to make it to any of the four outstretched hands looking to get in. She was inches away when Zed, being the gentleman he is, grabbed her by her hair to pull her back. A well placed mule kick got her free, and a conversation with Mr. Peterson, but Zed dropped to the ground in obvious pain.

    Slapping the first hand she could reach, Zhalia rolled out of the ring to recover. It was Tony Spark’s turn at bat.

    Spark made an impact quickly, hitting a low dropkick to Zed who was trying to scooch backward to his corner. Dragging Zed by his foot back toward the center, Spark took aim and then dropped a leg, spinning one full rotation along the way. It was clear that the pacing of this match was going to pick up with the more agile member of For the Win.

    Tony took off to the opposite ropes and rushed back with something in mind, but the thing is, Zed saw it coming and swept Spark's legs. Zed dropped a quick elbow that caught nothing but mat, Spark rolling out of the way and sinking quickly a stiff kick across Zed’s back and spine. Backing a few paces, Spark then ran and leapt, or rather tumbled, overtop of Zed, grabbing the back of his head in a somersault neckbreaker.

    Zed was stunned as Tony Spark was pulling him to his feet, unable to block as he got spent back down with a scoop slam. Zed was splayed prone in the center of the ring, and Spark had ideas of gravity assisted violence. Tony made his way to the top in a neutral corner, but Michelle Couli had made her way back through the ropes. Jerry Peterson was quick to escort her back out, but it was the opening for Circe Hellion to grab hold of Spark’s foot. Tony struggled to get loose, but it wasn’t long before the cavalry in the guise of Mariella Jade Flair made her way around the corner and pulled one of half of the sisters Hellion to the floor. MJF whipped Circe hard into the barricade.

    Back in the ring, the distraction has given Zed the time to recover and the self proclaimed Paragon of the Industry wisely rushed off the ropes, causing Spark to lose balance and leave himself hanging gingerly on the top ropes. Moving from desperate to in control, Zed stalked his prey.

    Meanwhile, back outside, Mariella Jade Flair and Circe Hellion’s little brawl had gone to a two on one with Melantha Hellion defending her sister, taking MJF from behind. Melantha took MJF from by the scruff of the neck and slammed her head against the ring apron. The second time she tried, MJF was able to get a hand out and stop the barrage. Then Zhalia Fears came running along the apron and rocked Melantha’s jaw with a sliding knee strike. The large Rune had dropped from the apron to perhaps join the fray. Again, the referee was pulled away from the action.

    Back inside, Zed stood on the second rope, and fed a measured fist to Tony Spark’s forehead. The second was blocked by Spark. As Zed went to throw the third, he felt himself being carried away and he got nothing but air. Christopher Noid had entered the ring and had Zed up in the Electric Chair Lift. Tony Spark leapt off with a flying leg lariat and all three men hit the mat in a loud bump. Noid rolled out the ring immediately. Spark made the cover, and a second later, our ref was over to make the count.

    1!

    2!


    Kickout!

    Zed had shot out of the cover and started crawl/running on his knees to his corner, where only Michelle Couli stood. Zed stuck out his hand looking for the hand, but she just pointed behind him. Tony Spark had grabbed him and pulled him first to his feet, and then in the air looking for a reverse suplex, but Zed had managed to free himself at the apex and land on his feet behind Spark. Zed rushed Spark back into his corner, where Rune was now waiting with a forearm. Zed tagged in his partner and held up Spark’s arm for Rune to land a shot to his ribs before exiting.

    With Spark reeling from the rib shot, Rune lifted his chin and landed a chop to the chest that took the air away from Spark and could probably be heard in the cheap seats of the Thomas and Mack Center. Sadistically, Rune kept the cruiserweight from hitting the mat, yanking his arm up and toward him for a short-armed lariat that flipped Spark inside out.

    Rune paused his assault to look back to his corner for adulation but only got instruction from the raven-haired ball of hate.

    “Keep on him,” Couli shouted.

    Rune laughed while glancing Zed’s way, but took to the motivation. With a clean jerk, Rune had deadlifted Spark up and over with a gutwrench suplex. He got back vertical and kicked at the downed Spark, like a cat playing with an injured mouse. Eventually he just rested his foot on Spark’s chest with the most lazy of covers. The ref didn’t even get into position before Spark rolled up a shoulder.

    His reward for the act of valor and pride was the monster simple walking over. In an act of self-preservation, Spark got to the ropes and the corner. That didn’t stop Rune from gaining a head of speed and just crushing him in the corner. Rune hoisted Spark up on one shoulder looking to nail the Snake Eyes, but Spark slipped out the back and shoved Rune chest first into the turnbuckle.

    With signs of life, Spark drove a forearm to the small of Rune’s rather large back. Again. Tony took to the opposite side of the ring, and ran into… a sized 17 wide.

    Rune stood over Spark. He could have gone for the pin if he wanted. Instead, he waited for Tony to start his desperate attempt to get to his corner. Then, five feet away, Rune stomped and held Spark’s ankle. With a smile, he yanked Spark up by the back of his pants and tossed him backward with a release German suplex. He traced over and again tossed Spark, only to have Spark land on his feet.

    “FUCK!” he yelled as the leg buckled. His momentum was enough to carry him back into his corner, and seeing his tag team partner injured, Chris Noid made the tag and bumrush Rune, who looked surprised that Spark wasn’t just a oil stain on the canvas.

    Noid unloaded with right hand after right. Rune was left staggered by the onslaught, and was nearly brought to a knee when Noid threw out a shoulder tackle. The next time back, Noid didn’t go for the shoulder takedown, going low with a chop block to finally take the behemoth down.

    Noid continued to pour it on, targeting the knee. Leg for a leg, I suppose. He laid stomps on the right knee, dropped an elbow on the inside of the knee, and cinched in a knee bar. He held it until Zed came in to break up the hold.

    Zed pulled, or assisted in getting Rune back to the corner, saying all the way, “I have ‘til 5!” to the zebra.

    Circe Hellion tagged herself in, and was in quickly. Quick enough to catch Noid with a knee to the thigh. She worked in forearm shots while ignoring Zed’s protests for the tag that she stole right out from under him. A swift barrage of kicks to the inside thigh would follow with a neckbreaker.  Circe then went with the neck clinch, working Chris down to the mat, every so often wrenching his neck for added pressure. The object clear - make Noid submit. Not entirely an easy process despite the technical wrestler she was, but it was working.

    Noid had already been taken off his feet but the ring awareness was still fresh in his mind and his left hand grabbed the ropes forcing Peterson to call of Circe. She wasn’t too pleased with that and immediately tried a jumping knee-drop to Noid’s ribcage, only for him to roll under those ropes to the outside.

    Circe gives him no quarter, quickly sliding under herself and meeting him on the floor. Noid hardly has time to recuperate his neck before the shorter Hellion Sister is grabbing at his hair and trying to pull him back up to his feet. She succeed, but he meets her with a knee jolted to the gut, then spun her around to thrust her back into the side of the ring shoulder first. Raising her head he slammed it down on the apron several times to the delight and count of the crowd, while the official also had his own count going.

    With a hobble in his steps the young man considered his options, such as tagging in one of his teammates or going for a pinfall. He opted for the second, rolling Circe back in, to which Peterson turned to check on her and miss as Zed sprinted around the corner and speared Noid out of his boots. The official turned back around in time to warn Zed back to his corner and catch as Tony Spark, leg withstanding, ran the edge and leaped off to catch Zed with a swinging hurracarrana.

    This angered Rune who made short work of Spark with a devastating double axehandle, followed by tossing him into the barricade.

    The loud thud of carcass crashing into barricade pulled Peterson’s attentions, for the nth time in this contest. He warned Rune to back away, but the monster shrugged him off. He pulled Noid up violently and sunk an uppercut to the body. With ease, he pulled the two hundred pounder overhead in a gorilla press.

    “Damn it, I mean it. Do anything and this one is over,” Peterson bellowed. “Let go of him,” his clumsy choice of words.

    Rune launched Noid back into the ring, between the second and top rope, and Noid skidded a few feet. Both competitors were back in the ring, but neither looked able to take advantage of the other.

    “Tag me in!” Zed called.

    Slowly Circe made her way back to her corner and Zed got his much overdo reintroduction to the match. He got in to see Noid army crawling back toward Quinlan, MJF and Fears. He rushed past Noid to blast Quinlan off of the apron with a forearm shot. Noid got his head up in time to see Zed’s knee flying, shining wizard.

    Noid was laid out on the mat. Zed could have taken a 50/50 pinfall, but opted to set up for the spear takedown he called Downcast. When Noid got to one knee, Noid took off to the far ropes. He didn’t feel the hand slap his back as he launched in and drove Noid spine first to the pine.

    Immediately, Zed dropped to make the cover.

    Only, there was no pinfall.

    Zed yelled with the ref for refusing the pin, and just pointed Zed back to his corner. Further protest was met with the universally understood clap-point back to the corner. Finally turning his eye back to his teammates, Melantha Hellion was making her way through the ropes.

    She traced over, as the legal competitor to make the pin attempt, but was cut short by Zed. He got a few second of grief off of his chest before the ref began the five count. Melantha dropped for the cover, and when Zed was finally out, the ref started the count.

    1!

    2!


    Kickout!

    Noid had just enough time to get his second wind thrice and lift a shoulder. Melantha looked shocked, but coolly she pressed on with the attack.

    Grabbing Noid’s arm, Melantha locked in a shoulder lock. Slowly, Chris made his way back up to the anticipation of the Vegas crowd. Melantha popped that bubble, doubling him over with a kick across the stomach. She whipped him as hard as she could to the near, neutral corner.

    Desperately Noid avoided a running boot from Melantha, ducking low and making the dive to the corner where Mariella Jade Flair’s hand awaits. MJF sprung off the top rope with a leaping knee to the face of Melantha, and charged across the ring to clock Couli before turning her attention once more on the taller sister.

    She rushed forward, dodging to avoid a lariat and coming up behind, hooking her under leg and waist for sidewinder suplex, complete with 180 degree rotation. MJF followed with a trio of elbows before going to pick her up again. This feat doesn’t work out as Melantha would shove her off and into the ropes. Melantha charged at her, however her aim misses and Mariella caught her with a backhand, sending her into the near corner.

    Once there she followed up with several Muay Thai kicks, to the delight of the fans, but not to Couli or Circe who were being quite vocal with their orders and demands to the official Jerry Peterson. MJF having her trapped chopped her in the corner before mounting the second buckle and delivering several hard punches  accompanied by the crowds own count.

    The same count would be when Peterson had to call her off and to back away, which she did. For the moment. And then she charged back into the corner with a flying forearm that took Melantha off her feet and slumped down in the corner.

    Mariella backstepped across the ring and then sprung forward with a basement level dropkick, however Rune and Circe pulled Melantha out of harm's reach just in time. Just the same, their efforts brought her well into the arms reach of Michelle Couli, who made the tag and ran across the edge of the ring to where MJF had collided with the post. Although not that shaken up, she was only just rising to her feet which enabled Couli to club her from behind.

    MJF, like Fears, were still feeling the effects of earlier and as luck would have it, rather easy pickin’s. Couli yanked Mariella up to her feet, holding her by the back of her head and openly slapped her across the face. “I told you! I RUN THIS PLACE!” A second slap, which she followed with a front chancery, however MJF maneuvered out, getting behind her and propped her head under her arm for another back suplex.

    Couli stomped down on the boot, and struck back at Flair, then cranked down on her head until she could spin around and shoved MJF into the corner where she followed with a quick football-esque tackle dummy thrust into the midsection, which was so good for her she followed with a second that doubled over the Father’s Daughter.

    Couli took this as an invitation to whip her into her corner, where she quickly followed and avoided MJF’s attempt of recovery, opting instead to lock her in the corner and send her heel straight into her jugular. Peterson would start his count and upon reaching four Couli tagged Melantha in, whom let Mariella slump down in the corner before stomping down on her chest and shoulders.

    After several moments she made the tag to her sister Circe, who continued the assault by ramming her knees forward in rapid succession, striking the head of Flair. The opposite end of the ring Fears and Quinlan were getting anxious and requesting the official put a stop to it as once again a tag was made and this time it would be Couli back on the assault.

    Again choking her with her boot and this time Peterson finally got between the two, ensuring she gave Flair some distance. However with his back to the friendliest of corners, he was unaware as Circe pulled MJF’s head over the ropes and snapped it back, to which Zed followed with a running driveby.

    This got Chris Noid and Tony Spark dropping to the ground and walking over to argue with Zed, while Fears and Quinlan waited in the corner for the relief if Mariella could make it there. Michelle taunted the two before turning back to a weakened Flair.

    Couli pulled Flair up and onto her shoulder in one move. She walked a few paces away from the ropes, but before she could execute the rolling fireperson’s carry, MJF had slipped out the back, and into a reverse rollup.

    1!

    2!


    Kickout!

    The force of Couli thrusting her legs forward guided Flair clear away… and into a tag with the fresh man: Quinlan. He leapt over the ropes and made a b line toward Couli. She swung with a lariat, he ducked. He carried on to the ropes and back, she turned around to get nailed with the running crossbody block.

    Quinlan grabbed Couli’s wrist as she was searching for her breath. He wrung the arm and pulled her into the corner. He backpedaled up the ropes and began to tightrope toward his corner. Halfway he leapt off and took Michelle over with a deep arm drag that carried her two thirds across the ring. The crowd was revelling the opportunity to cheer on the good guys.

    Couli was on a knee as Quinlan closed in again, and tossed up her hands, begging for a timeout. It stopped him for a moment before he shook his head and kept closing. Using the low position, Couli landing an uppercut that she swore to the ref was to the high, inside of the thigh. With Quinlan doubled over in shock and pain, Couli dropped him with a neckbreaker.

    She made a pin attempt, that Quinlan angrily kicked out of before a count got going. Couli landed a knee as he was getting to his feet, but was shoved back. She hurried back in close, but it was Quinlan’s turn to toss a knee into her abdomen. He took the rear position and locked on arm with a half nelson, but before he could hook the other back for his 7/4 suplex, Couli’d spun out and drove a front kick to the back of Quinlan’s knee.

    With Quinlan on a knee, she stunned him with another knee, this one to the jaw. She grabbed the near arm and wrapped her leg around the back of his neck. Looking for the Blackout, Quinlan was able to gain his senses in time to pulled out with a reverse, taking Couli up with a pump handle and tossing her some distance with the fallaway.

    Couli landed near to her corner, and immediately tagged Zed. The Paragon hit home with a forearm to Quinlan jaw. Another landed. Then Quinlan unloaded with a throat thrust that took Zed off of his feet. He took the full mount and rocked Zed with a headbutt. Quinlan then wrapped an arm behind Zed and yanked him up in an arm triangle.

    Quinlan had cut off the air supply and was in control, only breaking the hold after Couli had re-entered the ring to smack him across the back of the neck. That brought Zhalia Fears into the ring to escort Couli, by the neck, over the top rope and out of the ring. That started a cascade of every member not in the ring coming to blows and making a scene that looked like a hockey scrum.

    With Quinlan attention pulled to the scene ringside, Zed tried to quickly hit his tiger suplex, Znnihilated from behind. Quinlan reversed position and suddenly landed a scary northern lariat. Zed was face down, out of it.

    Quinlan rolled Zed to his back and hooked the leg.

    1!

    2!


    And with everyone else too distracted on the outside, there was no one to interfere with this one.

    3!

    Ding! Ding! Ding!

    “Ladies and gentlemen! The winners of this match! The team of For the Win, Zhalia Fears, Mariella Jade Flair and Quinlan!”

    At the announcement, the fight died down and the winners slid into the ring to celebrate. Couli and the Hellion sisters left ringside in a huff, while Rune carried Zed over his shoulder to the back.

     

    The Art of War

     

    “What a night it’s been!” Melissa Vanderart greeted the fans as the cameras came upon their booth once again. “In a Hall of Famer’s match, Max Hopper finally put a notch in the win column against the former Judasbleek, Travis Martinez!”

    “If Travis hadn’t gone soft, it would have been a different story Mel. We all know that the Forgotten Son put away his share of Hall of Famer’s and Legends in this industry. And that was in the span of a few years unlike Hopper’s decades in this industry.”

    “Say it as you wish, Craig, but the facts are still there. Max Hopper is leaving Legacy with his head held high and a victory in the record books on the grandest show there is.”

    “Well at least we still have a light at the end of the tunnel tonight when Derecho takes back what is rightfully his,” Craig replied smugly. “The NBW World Heavyweight Championship. We’ll finally put a nail in the coffin of Carter’s parading around with the fans every week.”

    “That’s still to come,” responded Vanderart in kind.

    “Yeah, once the mess is cleaned up at ringside.”

    The shot cut away from the commentators booth back over to where the ringside medic was looking after Quinlan, who clutched at his shoulder in obvious discomfort. Zhalia Fears and Mariella Jade Flair stood off to the side.

    “Let’s take you back to just moments ago, after the match…”

    Victorious in the 10 person battle, the team of Zhalia Fears, Mariella Jade Flair, Tony Spark, Chris Noid and Quinlan slowly made their ways backstage. Quinlan was slower than the rest, stopping to talk with a group of guys sitting in the front row he seemed to know.

    Then, from out of frame he was bull-rushed and knocked over by Xiang.

    Quinlan got quickly up and started to trade shots with the Chinese Patriot. He was getting the upperhand before he was clocked in the back by the massive man that goes by the moniker the Great Wall. Xiang laid in a kick before delegating the rest of the assault to his employee.

    Quinlan tried to put up a fight, but was sent hard into, and exploding through, the ring steps by Wall. He was huddled on the ground when Wall pulled him to his feet. To the glee of Xiang, the Great Wall wrapped two hands around Quinlan’s neck and then lifted him up for a chokebomb against the ring apron.

    Quinlan laid face down on the mats ringside, kicking a foot in frustration and pain.Then came Fears and Flair, charging back to chase off Xiang and the Great Wall, who receded back through the crowd, happy with the damage they had done.

    The feed cut back live to Quinlan being helped to the back, with an obvious grimace on his face and his left shoulder hanging limp, before cutting away to a hype video package for The Zone.

     

    Keegan Versus Willis

    The Zone

     

    Regardless of your generation, background or sport, a genuine grudge match between the right guys captures your attention.

    Two brothers by different mothers, Keegan and Willis, had that, dating back FOURTEEN years and had fought on three separate occasions in three different promotions, the last one being here in nbW that Keegan clinched en route to facing William Arthur Reagan.

    And that's part of the reason why we're here.

    On that night, albeit accidentally, Keegan murdered Reagan and Wills alluded to that as being a motive for challenging Special K to a battle inside The Zone.

    The truth is...there's always been more loathing in their love-hate relationship and Willis was keen to get even with the Englishman.

    John came out to a chorus of jeers, smiling, lapping the heat up.  As he was going to the steel structure not far from the aisle, he didn't have to put up with the negativity for too long, which was probably a shame for the sadistic bastard who got off on violence and winding people up.  He stepped through the cage door, licked his lips, apparently ready for action.

    'Club Foot' by Kasabian was first heard as Keegan's theme here four years ago on that fateful night in Oz.

    It remained intact here and as soon as it played, Keegan took control of this crowd.  He waved and afforded himself a grin, totally different to his brother's permanently-etched evil version, and then it was down to business.  The short journey to The Zone could mean a brief stay or a long drawn-out battle.  Let's find out as the Englishman, teacher to Ali Amore and Alfie Button, looked to atone for his two star students' respective defeats and make it third time lucky and seal a third victory over his pain-in-the-ass step-brother.

    Here we go!

    Keegan ran right out and clumped his half-brother on the head with what would've been a hard blow if John hadn't ducked and taken some of it on his shoulder instead.  Fast start by Special K, who you'd expect to have the speed advantage here.

    Willis moved back and fired off a left, but K feigned and then came with a left of his own to the body.  Willis was on the back foot, though pawed away with another left-hander with the ribs in mind.

    Two stronger, quicker lefts by Willis caught Keegan high up on his cheeks.  The Brit didn't budge though.

    Why?  Well, a left-handed body shot by Keegan set up an outstanding overhand right!  He put more money in the bank with a left, but the money punch, a massive overhand right again, missed.  Fortunately, for Willis and the fans.

    A punishing right hook to the body by Keegan ensured Willis would stay still for a wee while though.  Wait, scratch that.  Catching K coming in, John exploded with a left uppercut and a right hook.

    Keegan, relentless pressure, tied Willis up, though not for long and Willis escaped.  They were still vertical.

    Again, Keegan tried to take his beast of a brother off his feet, but a terrific right by the larger Willis stopped Special K in his tracks.

    A one-two by Willis, hardly befitting of the behemoth, staggered Keegan a little and the Kokomo Colossus was now in charge of this contest.  Keegan rallied with a left hook of his own and slipped two attempted punches by the US-born powerhouse.

    Somehow, a left caught Keegan on the chin and that hurt our hall-of-fame athlete, who clung to Willis, attempting to slow the ex-Spawned Terror down with two bodyshots.

    It worked and Keegan clinched Willis up against the cage wall, refusing to let go.  Bodyshots in return guaranteed the 315-pound strongman's safety.

    A left to the chin by Keegan didn't!

    Both men then missed with massive punches; Keegan with a left and Willis with a right.  They were both off balance.  Like a tiger, Willis lunged with a right, catching Keegan, but tamely and K connected with a shot dangerously low, just above the belt line and held his hands up to the ref, who was poised to warn the Englishman.

    Willis teed Keegan up with a left to the side of the head, but a bobbing Brit made Willis miss with his next two shots and tied the Indiana Buffalo up.

    Whoah!

    A left, a right and then A HUGE left uppercut wobbled Willis as this fight, in its infancy, swung back and forth.

    Willis returned the favour with a left jab, a left hook and a straight right, but Keegan tagged him back in exchange with a hook of his own.  They had set a heck of a pace for two strapping lads, seemingly searching for a knockout and were intent to have a slugfest.  Was that reflective of the deep hatred they shared for one another, throwing all submissions out of the window and opting to go to war, dangerous given how potent they were in either hand, as they'd shown by battering the other with both lefts and rights.

    They grappled with each other, struggling, pushing, when Willis started to move Keegan...

    Left hand by Special K and back to square one.

    A long left from Willis was blocked by his elder brother, who came forward, fearless.  Special K circled, hands down, when Willis reminded him he should always keep them up with a right to the jaw.

    Willis caught K on the button with a left, tame but precise, showed he could be surprisingly fast at times.

    Not that fast though!  On the way out, K rocked his stepsibling's head back with a superb straight right!

    Standing off, Willis missed with a one-two and Keegan beat his larger foe to the punch - literally - with a left to the body and a stinging right uppercut.

    Somehow, the Kokomo Colossus got his hands up to deny Keegan a third free shot in the form of a left and while Willis then telegraphed his own left, he did catch K by surprise with a right to the chin again.

    Willis missed with two lefts, Keegan ducking, but a third found its way through and caught K on the chin.  But, the Brit pressed on, taking a right from Willis to the top of the head, though not allowing the Indiana native to flee the scene scot-free, arrowing a left to the side of the body as the beast backed off.

    Keegan then scored with a one-two of his own, but the smile on John's face followed by a shove suggested he didn't feel it.  Was he bluffing?  K wasn't deterred and marched on, landing with another suspiciously-low yet legal blow just above the belt.  Willis didn't complain, perhaps not feeling it, focused on landing with a left of his own.

    A fabulous right by Willis followed.  The fans' appreciated the see-saw scrap between two stepsiblings who couldn't stand each other and the variety of this offering, throwing the mechanics of wrestling under the bus and knuckling up for a down-and-dirty duel.

    Not that anyone had been down - yet.  Here, Willis was proving to be the quicker of the two, picking K off at will with three strong yet unclean shots around the chin and jaw regions.

    As Keegan stood up, a trickle of blood on his forehead was visible.  The Englishman had been opened up and nobody truly knew which blow had been responsible, nor did it matter in the grand context of things.

    Instead, Keegan got down to business, slamming Willis in the body with a one-two and forcing him up against the knee, making the beast eat a knee too.  K had been keen on using his feet against the fighting Irishman, Conan Doherty, a fortnight ago, but had elected to trade with Willis here and the fans had enjoyed their doses of Zone action thus far.

    Willis grabbed K by the head, looking to tie him up, but Keegan backed away and then lunged forward with a left hook and a gorgeous overhand right -  clearly one of his preferred punches.

    John felt K out with two lefts, but the right was the one he wanted to get off and did, finding Keegan's chin.  A clean uppercut tested Keegan's resistance.  Did he deal with it?  A shove in return certainly suggested so and Special K forced Willis back up against the wall.  Not for long.

    Left by Willis; right by Keegan!  They were so evenly-matched and couldn't sustain this pace, surely, but the adrenaline hadn't worn off.

    A right uppercut from Willis made its way to Keegan's chin while a left bullet by the Brit flew through the air and exploded onto John's temple.

    A grazing blow to the body set up a left-handed uppercut for the fan favourite.  He headbutted Willis from close range, tagged him with a left hand and a right, which threatened to unseat John from his vertical stance.   The bull-like younger brother had to hang on and did, even though he had to taste another uppercut before causing separation with a couple of shots to Keegan's kidneys.

    At range, the Englishman extended his leg and caught John with a boot to the abdomen.  A right by Keegan, another headbutt, a close-range left and a right hook had Willis rocking, though not in grave trouble as proceedings heated up even more.

    John ducked time and time again, The Yardstick tagging him with a left and a hopeful right, which was poorly executed.  Notwithstanding, and I don't know how nobody had gone to ground yet, this was anyone's fight.

    Up against the walls, the battle degenerated and deteriorated into flailing arms and punches landing, missing, grazing and berating, but the fans didn't see it as a slump in action whatsoever, quite the opposite!  Tiredness could be detected, though that alone wasn't going to stop either of these warriors at this minute in time, desperate to land a decisive blow and walk out of the showpiece with their legacy enhanced.

    A cracking left by Willis!

    An even better right by Keegan as John stumbled backwards.  What a breakthrough for the Brit!  Willis kept him at bay as Keegan searched for the kill, three punches asking questions of Keegan as Special K sought the answer to end this fight once and for all.

    A cracking left by Keegan!  Wills GRINNED In return, Willis picked away at Keegan with several shots to deny his more experienced relative a clean road to glory.  He'd been hurt, no question, but it now appeared it would take much more or something special at least to break the beast's beating heart here at Legacy.

    A huge overhand right might've been the answer, but Willis absorbed most of it on the forehead as he'd been walking away when it was launched.

    Willis sent a strong left to Keegan's chin; it didn't stop Special K in his tracks, as he piled forward.

    The 315-pounder pawed away with a left, but Keegan countered with a right that stunned the ex-Spawned Terror for a second time!!

    Willis was wobbly.  He kept himself in it with left, but two accurate rights had the beast on the back foot again.  It was odd how Keegan had taken centre-field and forced Willis to retreat umpteen times thus far, given the height and weight disadvantage he had.  It could possibly be attributed to his superior footwork.

    MASSIVE overhand right from Keegan forced Willis to turn his back! We talked about that shot potentially being the one to unlock Willis.

    K tagged Willis again, forcing him up against the wall, piling it on with bodyshots as the audience turned the noise up a notch or five.

    Willis clung on, left uppercut by Keegan, a right knee and a right uppercut felled the giant!

    The 3-time Fighting Zone franchise flopped on top; a one-two combination and knee after knee after knee and a downward right.

    It's over!!!

    "And your winner of this contest is... KEEGAN!" announced Brent Williams at ringside.

    Special K had sent his stepsibling to sleep and now led 3-1 in their series of four fights!  Surely, the elder of the two siblings had decisively decided this rivalry and cemented his legacy, four years on from being forced to retire at this very event.

    It had been hot, fast, furious while it lasted at a surprisingly high tempo for two big guys, weighing in at a combined 575lbs.  Keegan punched the air, not Willis thankfully, and smiled.  Relief; it was all over - just as his wrestling career was.

    This was redemption in many ways though:  He'd come back to Legacy, exorcised some ghosts, put Willis to sleep yet again, perhaps the last we'd hear from him altogether and made up for two separate defeats to his star students in the same night.

    He scaled the top of the wall and immersed himself in a Union Jack handed to him, which he'd caught.  While he'd come up short against SVJ four years ago in Australia, he'd made his countrymen proud tonight by owning his younger brother in a formidable fight.

    A roar went up from droves of fans as Keegan did the same thing; a caged lion that had been set free from the disappointment of that bitter night on the other side of the world.

    Nobody knew what the Newcastle native's future held.  What was sure and secure?  His place in the annals of this promotion.

     

    PULSE RETURNS

     

    A video package started up, showcasing an empty ring sporting the classic NBW colors of purple and white. What followed were multiple clips of different wrestlers competing within the ring and the hundreds of fans cheering them on.

    "Coming Soon to thenbw.com, Friday Night Pulse Returns!"

    The voiceover was from a woman's voice.

    "New faces and some old familiar ones make their return."

    The clips continued, showcasing some familiar faces such as Girard King, The Ritz, The Hightowers, Conar Grandeur, Titan and more.

    "A New Night. A New Time. A New Brand. A New Leader."

    A black silouette appeared on the screen.

    "Welcome back to the most exciting brand produced by the NBW, PULSE. MY Pulse!"

    The male voice laughed as the clips came to an end and rested on the PULSE logo before fading out to black.

     

    The Rich Family Versus The Unstoppables

    Dynasy Tag Team Championships

     

    Ever since nbW returned at Eternal Judgment, The Unstoppables have reigned as Dynasty Tag Team titleholders.

    And, invariably, The Rich Family, who attacked them after they won the 10 to 1 Gauntlet match to become champions in the first place, have been their challengers.

    Sure, Vic Gravender and Tyson XL have turned back challenges from Warren Spade and Spike Saunders, The Entertainers and even The Rich Family themselves.

    But, it's the quartet they're going to meet for the second time running on pay-per-view and the ones that have got under their skin the most.

    Tonight, both teams can add a chapter to their DYNASTY and secure their LEGACY.

    The Unstoppables are no strangers to performing on the grandest stages.  Vic headlined the last Legacy.  Meanwhile, Tyson XL's defining moment occurred at ACW's Legends when he won their version of the World strap.  These guys have done it at the top level, individually and collectively.  This is The Rich Family's first time at such an event and what a way to mark it.  All they have to do is correct the mistakes at Scorched and do what they've been promising for months...

    Stop The Unstoppables.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, this next next match is scheduled for one fall and is for the Dynasty Tag Team Championship!" Williams announced to the cheer of the crowd.

    No fanfare or theme music accompanied Freddie and Todd Rich.  Yes, for all of the discussion about who would team here, they hadn't changed anything.  The most experienced hands in the unit had got the nod to right their wrongs and have another crack at the most feared team in nbW history.

    "Introducing first, the challengers, at a combined weight of four hundred and seventy seven pounds, Todd Rich and Freddie Rich... THE RICH FAMILY!"

    Freddie walked up front, holding his arms up, seeking heat and getting some of it.  Todd looked ahead, presumably focused on the almighty task that awaited them and the pressure of all their family tuning in on pay-per-view.

    A pep talk by Freddie awaited a diligent Todd inside the ring.  The jewel of the faction, Freddie, felt more comfortable being supported by his cousin, who he trusted more from an in-ring perspective than either of his brothers, something that probably bothered Declan and Donny respectively.   Right now, they were the best fit out of the various combinations on offer.

    "And their opponents..."

    'A Warrior's Call' by Volbeat was Tyson XL's theme and would represent the combined might of these two monsters as the masses reacted to the former Night Life muscleman who realised his dream at Legends in an emotional moment four years ago, ridding ACW of the evil Z and entering his name in the history books as a World Champion.

    "-at a combined weight of six hundred and sixty six pounds... they are Vic Gravender and Tyson XL, the Dynasty Tag Team Champions... THE UNSTOPPABLES!"

    Vic had done the same thing.  They'd had a great right and it wasn't over. The Unstoppables had plenty left in them as they assumed the spotlight at Legacy, ready to kick ass and take The Rich Family's names for the second straight PPV running.

    Speaking of running, Freddie and Todd vacated the ring temporarily.  They'd be back, but they had no desire to lock up with The Unstoppables before they had to.  The veterans had their moment, scaling the turnbuckles and surveying this 18,000-strong crowd gathered in Las Vegas, Nevada.  Who's your money on?

    When it all died down...


    It looks like Tyson XL and Todd Rich are going to start.  Surprisingly, a Collar-and-Elbow Tie-Up starts us off.  It's somewhat of a smokescreen by Todd, who transitions into a Go-Behind.  His two attempts to lift Tyson are ambitions and he can't budge the big guy at all.

    While the audience found amusement at this, Todd changed Larry Tact by leathering XL with an Enzui Lariat.  Unfortunately, it barely registered and as Tyson turned, Todd started to apologise for the cheap shot.

    One Headbutt later and Todd was on the floor.  As Todd started to come round, Tyson helped the poor prick up and whipped him to the south set of ropes...

    Bossman Slam!

    1...

    2....


    2 and a half.

    Todd was already in deep water.  Tyson wasn't in a forgiving mood and elevated Todd up into a Fireman's Carry...Slam!  Then, Tyson was on his bike, rebounding off the ropes with an assertive Elbow Drop.  XL was unquestionably in charge.

    In fact, Ty neglected to cover Todd and whipped the Family's cousin into The Unstoppables' corner...

    HIP ATTACK!

    I almost feel sorry for Todd.  That was the first bit of emotion from Freddie in the corner, who winced at his cousin's plight, though must've been secretly pleased the beatdown wasn't happening to him.

    Tag to Vic!

    Here, he comes and a huge cheer greeted The Grave Maker's maiden appearance at this year's Legacy, somewhat different from his last appearance on this pay-per-view, closing the show against Chris Moliano two years ago.  I won't tell you the outcome of that one.

    Anyway, just because he could, Gravender fucked with Todd by treating him to a Giant Swing that everyone else, besides Freddie, enjoyed and got a big kick out of.  Vintage Vic.

    Todd was suffering and if Vic, setting himself on the second rope in the South-West corner of the battlefield, had his way, it would continue momentarily...

    THE INCREDIBLY FLYING WRECKING BALL...only served to wreck Vic's head as Todd somehow had the presence of mind to move at the last possible second and avoid definite defeat.  The Flying Headbutt threatened to turn the title tie on its head, particularly with Vic trying to shake the cobwebs loose.  That had hurt the man mountain than we first thought.  He looked a little intoxicated.  Could this be a chance for Todd to exit left and give the crowd a thrill by introducing them to the head of The Rich Family's new wave of athletes?

    BOO!

    Yes, he could.  Freddie was on his way.  What a moment for the most talented, currently at least, member of the four-strong family unit to enter.

    FIRST CLASS STAMP!  (Facewash)


    One...

    Two...


    Leave it there.  Freddie kept busy, repeatedly kicking Vic in the side of the head, trying to make the irritable 40--year-old, near 400-pounder even angrier.  Are you sure that's the right way to go about it, Master Rich?

    In fact, Vic was visibly getting more and more irate.  Freddie didn't see that, let alone respect it and elected to drill the World Class Badass with a DDT instead.  Now, that could be considered smart strategy.

    Freddie followed up his good work by leaving the battlefield briefly and composing himself ahead of a superb Slingshot Elbow Drop.

    Turning, Fred asked Todd if he was okay.  His partner had born the brunt of the bout's brutality here in its tender stages.  Todd nodded, though not convincingly from this writer's point of view.  Not that it mattered.  A tag was made and Todd came in anyway.

    He took a risk to begin with.  Sat up on the second rope, a Flying Clothesline did pay off and a two-count was what it equated to in the aftermath.
    Vic, reminiscent of Goldberg in WCW, was more bothered than injured and shook his head.  Todd couldn't let that get to him psychologically, and didn't, choosing to unleash a High Knee, aided by the ropes at the top end of the ring, and a hook of the leg brought about another straight two.

    A Dragon Sleeper was Todd's next go-to hold.  Ty, on the outside, tried to get the crowd and, consequently, his sidekick into this by clapping.  There was no doubt the masses would get behind The Unstoppables, and they did.  All of a sudden, perhaps sensing a resurgence from Vic that we couldn't see, Todd let go and unleashed three thunderous Elbow Drops without a response.  Still, the end game was two and only that.  The Rich Family hadn't registered a meaningful near-fall and glanced at Freddie, seeking assurance or advice.  The senior thoroughbred in the stable told Todd to try again.

    So, he did.  Another three times, each count getting shorter, with the last one culminating in one and a half.  Were they wearing the heaviest contestant out by making him repeatedly kick out?

    DynTag1


    Todd returned to the Dragon Sleeper, which Freddie applauded profusely.  The Rich Family was here to get results rather than seek approval and Fred urged his cousin to keep his chin up and continue along this path, hopeful of it yielding results.  Admittedly, the Dragon Sleeper was doing fairly well, but when Vic threw a pair pf punches, it didn't take long for the ex-World champion's scary power to tell.  Both men were on the mat and neither of them were fully with it.

    Shouts of encouragement became shouts of desperation.  They proved useful as a tag found Freddie, who unloaded with a Fist Drop to stop a kneeling Gravender from making any further progress and a Legdrop to the back of the bonce to keep him there.  Would it be permanently?

    One...

    Two...


    The same as before.

    Rich and Todd exchanged some words, inaudible to us all, talking tactics.  Worryingly, Gravender was now stood up, shaking his head.  Freddie ran the ropes on his and Todd's side of the ring...

    CAPTURED!

    Nowhere to go...

    Belly-to-Belly Suplex!  Talk about a game-changer by The Grave Maker.

    Uh-oh.  Evil intentions on Gravender's mind here.  Rich had retreated to a corner.  This may well be a match-winner if it makes contact...

    BULLDOZER - MISSES.

    Had Freddie lulled Vic into that or was it completely unintentional?  Either way, he'd avoided a 400-pound missile.

    Freddie dragged Vic to a more central position and hoped to capitalise on The Human Wrecking Ball's cardinal error. 

    One...

    Two...


    Slightly better, but in essence, Vic had been the architect of his own punishment here.  However, as Gravender got back to his vast vertical base, Freddie assumed that roll and waylaid the 381-pound powerhouse with a SICK KICK! 

    Freddie's Nightmare!

    Would The Rich Family's dream come true?

    One...

    Two...


    Two and three-quarters!  That's the closest fall by far.

    Freddie shot Todd a look, and the two of them were beginning to believe they could do this.  Well, I'm sure they believed before, but their confidence was undoubtedly increasing.  That had been a breakthrough.  Oddly, the biggest bastard in this bout had been identified as the weakest link and they had to keep  the colossal figure in the ring at all costs.

    "Put him away, Fred." cried Todd.

    The heir had every intention of doing just that. 

    Freddie's Nightmare became that as Vic caught his foot and a Leg-Clutch Exploder changed the complexion of the clash quicker than it takes for Usain Bolt to put his spikes on.

    Todd cut a concerned figure.  The audience encouraged Gravender, who in spite of the onslaught he'd suffered, seemed to be in a better state than Freddie right now.

    TAG TO TYSON!  No, not The Amazing Gabriel.

    A deer in the headlights...no, it's Freddie Rich and he's about to digest a Running Crossbody courtesy of the Walking Tank!

    Ty took it up another notch with a Scoop Powerslam.  Make that a pair for the interfering Todd, keen to turn the tide, and getting suitably punished by the powerhouse for sticking his oar in, which our fans adored. 

    Still, Freddie remained the one they really wanted to see get his comeuppance.  Todd was more guilty by association.

    That'd have to wait.  But, it would be worth it as Tyson cleared the ring of Todd Rich, throwing him through the middle ropes on the left-hand side.

    What they were waiting for...

    At first, Freddie appeared to be set to get his own back by approaching Tyson from the blind side...

    What happened was Freddie getting put on his back...

    RUNNING SPEAR FROM XL!!!


    ONE...

    TWO...

    THR..
    .GREAT RESILIENCE BY FREDDIE TO GET A SHOULDER UP!!!

    Love him or hate him, and most who cared about The Rich Family at all fell into the latter category, you had to respect 'The First' for digging in to try and secure the tag team straps for him, his team and the rest of his clan.  He wasn't going down without a fight.

    Even Ty nodded, apparently impressed by the cocky kid's courage.  It was time to go up a notch then and a Bodyslam set the table nicely.

    Tyson was going to give the Thomas and Mack Center a treat...

    METEOR CRASH (MOONSAULT.)

    MISSED!!!

    Was it greed?  We'll not dwell on that.  Above all, this match was quickening by the second rather than coming to a close, which it would have if Tyson had landed how he wanted, regardless of all Freddie's will in the world.

    Now, the eldest Rich of the new brood looked to exploit the ex-ACW franchise's weakened state and drape an arm across for a 2.  To prove there was still plenty left in The Walking Tank, Ty almost launched Freddie out with the commanding kickout.

    The relentless Rich wasn't deterred.  Instead, he ascended to the second floor and returned with interest in the form of another Fist Drop, recording a two as a result.

    Meanwhile, on the far side, Todd was just returning to the corner after a nasty trip to the outside.  Freddie didn't mess about and tagged his cousin back in.

    Perhaps keen to get even, Todd darted in, and who knows how much he's got left, using whatever was in him to test Tyson's resolve with a gorgeous Jumping DDT, which even drew begrudging claps from a crowd firmly behind the defending champions.

    One...

    Two...


    Two and a half.

    A Hangman's Neckbreaker brought Todd another solid near-fall and a whole load of exasperation, letting out a frustrated sight.  The Rich Family had talked about stopping The Unstoppables for months; it was quite another thing to do it.  Get past their hard-hitting offence and you see these guys can take it as well as dish it out.  Todd and Freddie would have to produce career-best performances to make their opposition break and take the tag team titles home.  That fact was starting to dawn on them.  Were they up for it?

    Freddie offered to give his cousin some respite, though before Todd left the stage, his relative asked for a favour on the way out.  Between them, they managed to whip Tyson into their own corner.  As Todd stepped between the ropes, he must've been surprised to see Tyson fall hard following a FIRST CLASS Dropkick!

    One...

    Two...


    Not there yet.

    Fred stood up, whispered in Todd's ear, presumably talking tactics and Todd returned. after a tag.  And how.  He showed fine strength of his own, suddenly lifting Freddie above his head for all to see...

    And dropping the future king of The Rich Family onto Tyson's hide with a Gorilla Press Slam/Splash combination.  Would it unlock the door?

    One...

    Two...

    Th..
    ey're getting closer!!!

    Todd even had the temerity to check.  However, it seemed that he was getting ideas above his station, which was unlike him.  Buoyed by lifting Freddie up with contemptuous ease, he bought into his own hype and thought he could do the same to Ty...

    Only to find resistance.  In fact, Todd's Northern Lights Suplex was swapped for a standard Suplex, though that one came from Tyson, who countered and again broke The Rich Family's spell of dominance.

    A count ensued.  Todd was torn between tagging Freddie or trying to stop Tyson.  Whether it was out of tiredness or not, Todd's indecision and inability to make the right decision may come back to haunt him.  He tagged Freddie when he really should have halted Tyson's crawl to safe quarters...

    It was now down to Freddie, who couldn't get there!

    Tag!


    Fuck me, what an arrival!

    BATTERING RAM HEADBUTT knocked Freddie the fuck out!

    Just like that, The Rich Family's spirited quest had been quashed...

    One...

    Two..
    .

    Todd stopped the count!

    And, now, he was in deep shit.

    Nothing or nobody would help him.  Todd threw a feeble punch in vain.  Vic caught it in his mitt, applied a Full Nelson and pasted Todd's head into the Family's turnbuckles four times until Todd went limp.  On that note, Vic dropped him like a smoker kicking the habit.

    A Running Body Block mowed Freddie down emphatically.  A Splash at point-blank range really hurt the arrogant bastard to the point we almost felt sympathy for him.  Vic still wasn't done.

    When Todd dared to show signs of recovery, and he's shown he can take it, a Delayed Double Arm Suplex, one of Gravender's favourites, might have finally negated Todd as a nuisance.

    If it didn't...

    A Military Press Slam to chuck him out of the ring, and there was no question Vic's outstripped Todd's in every department, could add injury to insult.

    Speaking of injury...

    THE WORLD CLASS BOMB DROP!!!

    Surely, that'll be it.

    Wait...

    A tag to Tyson.  Oh, Freddie was getting it...

    The crowd cheered as Ty held his arms out by his side and set Freddie up for the ride of his life...

    NUCLEAR XL BOMB!

    DynTag2


    The Running Liger Bomb planted Freddie and threatened to leave him permanently part of the nbW canvas.

    With a lateral press, the crowd counted along as the referee did the honours...

    One...

    Two....

    Three!!!


    That was that.  Tyson XL's theme had accompanied them on the way in; 'Warrior' by Disturbed aired to signify these two tremendous warhorses were triumphant.  Presumably, that was part of the plan.

    While Tyson and Vic celebrated retaining their belts and revelled in the roar of the crowd, Freddie lay there limp.  Not many had realised, but he was unconscious nor moving an inch.  Todd wouldn't discover this for another minute or so as the adrenaline wore off and presented him with pain that would last for days.  Truth be told, nbW didn't have many guys who could prepare you for XL or Gravender and The Rich Family hadn't met any suitable sparring partners on either route to pay-per-view car collisions with the heaviest-hitting nbW Dynasty duo of all time.

    "The winners of this Championship match, and STILL your Dynasty Tag Team Champions... Vic Gravender and Tyson XL... THE UNSTOPPABLES!"

    For our fans, they were pleased to see the ultra-powerful pairing hand out a deserved beating.  They had conclusively overcome The Rich Family twice and would no doubt move onto new opponents.

    Unfortunately, for 'The First,' he may be looking at a spell on the sidelines.  It now dawned on others that Freddie may seriously be hurt.  Personal feelings aside, let's see how he, his cousin and brothers rebuild as a unit - with or without their de facto leader.

    Tyson and Vic's alliance had been forged to leave both of them with more long-lasting memories when they finally hang them up.  Earlier in their careers, they'd enjoyed more prominent parts on shows like this, but the two unbelievable units seemed content to be big-hitting support acts and if that's the case, they played those roles to perfection tonight.

    As it stands, nobody, and definitely not The Rich Family, can stop the twosome of Tyson XL and Vic Gravender from successfully defending the Dynasty titles.

    In a promotion noted for its double acts, would Tyson and Vic's mission to become the best team in this organisation's existence?

     

    Our Main Event

     

    The camera shot returned to the drone's hovering view of the cheering masses that filled the Thomas & Mack Center, before focusing the normal camera down upon the commentators booth.

    "We're nearing the end of this long journey folks! Coming up next we will have our NBW World Heavyweight Championship match as Lucky Carter and Derecho clash for the ultimate prized possession in NBW."

    "Derecho will win! He'll make things right. I trust in Derecho." Remarked Gains.

    "If he does we will have our FIRST and ONLY championship change hands tonight. After a hard fought battle Ali Amore was able to retain the Keystone Championship against Benjamin Jones."

    "And The Unstoppables somehow got past The Rich Family yet again to retain their Dynasty Tag Team Championships."

    "And let us not forget that Brock Newbludd conquered both Ravage and the Laddervault to reclaim the Blitzkrieg Championship!" Added Vanderart. "It remains to be seen if Carter can continue that streak tonight."

    "He won't. And let's say that even if he does... we now know who will be facing the NBW World Heavyweight Champion next time we come to you all on pay per view from the Scottstrade Center in Kansas City, Missouri for PRIDE! After putting the sack of waste in the gutter, the monsterous Warren Spade will be collecting on his number one contendership!"

    "Leaving quite the future outlook for both men tonight, knowing the type of man they will face."

    "That's still months away however." Added Gains before continuing, "Now, it's time for our Main Event and the SLAUGHTER of Lucky Carter! Let's do this!"

     

    Derecho Versus Lucky Carter

    World Heavyweight Championship

     

    Derecho was a man who was full of confidence… perhaps, too much confidence.  He looked past Lucky Carter and for the second time in his career, Derecho lost to the ultimate underdog. While a pair of losses isn’t something that is typically damaging to one’s career, this one stung because the second loss cost him the NBW World Heavyweight Championship.  Lucky Carter became the new top guy in NBW and he was the complete opposite of Derecho.  He defended the World Title against all comers week after week after week.

    Despite his successful defenses, Derecho continued to loom in the shadows.  He was owed a rematch and to say that Derecho cherry picked his spot is a massive understatement.  He backed Carter into a corner and used his “never back down” philosophy to goad him into a championship rematch.  Lucky quickly accepted before Derecho could lay out the terms and he placed Lucky right inside of his wheel house.  Tonight, Derecho gets another shot against Lucky Carter in a match where Anything Goes!

    The crowd had seen some tremendous action here tonight.  All that was left was to see Lucky Carter battle Derecho for the richest prize in NBW. The silence before the main event was a clam before the impending storm.  All of a sudden, the lights in the arena went out and were replaced by a crimson hue.

    Four guitar riffs hit before stepping it up a couple of notes.  This theme was very familiar…

    “One Reason” by FADE

    It was Derecho’s original theme upon arrival here in NBW.  A theme he had used throughout the time in his career when he was known as the King of the Underground and The King of Hell. The beat kicked in and Derecho walked out from the backstage area clad in a black trench coat and his King of Hell black skull crown. He stood there at the top of the ramp and looked around the audience, surveying what he believed to be his world.  Derecho then began to slowly walk down the ramp where he stopped at the bottom.

    Derecho turned to his left and then walked up the ring steps and onto the apron.  Derecho stepped in between the ropes and entered the ring where he made his way to the center. A crimson spotlight illuminated the middle of the ring and Derecho tilted his head back and outstretched his arms, soaking in all of the admonishment the people were giving to him.  Derecho then slowly removed his skull crown and revealed a black scar over his right eye, something he hadn’t worn in years.

    Derecho passed off his crown and trench coat to ringside as the arena returned to normal.

    “This is Letting Go” by Rise Against

    The opening chord struck and the crowd hit their feet immediately.  The song kicked in and Lucky Carter darted out from the back with the NBW World Heavyweight Championship around his waist.  He went back and forth on the stage and psyched up the crowd. Carter, despite taking a beating at the hands of Derecho, seemed in high spirits and unphased.  When the lyrics kicked in, Carter made his way down to the ring with a smile on his face.  He rolled in under the bottom rope and walked right up to Derecho, unfastening the NBW World Heavyweight Championship and holding it up right in Derecho’s face!

    It was obvious that Lucky Carter was sending a message to Derecho that he wasn’t afraid.  Maybe it was Carter that was a bit overconfident.  Afterall, he won every match as NBW World Heavyweight Champion, he holds a 2-0 record against his challenger here tonight as well.  Carter knew that Derecho was the one in the uphill battle here tonight and the fact that he was holding the championship was the proof.

    Derecho just stood there and stared into Carter’s eyes, not letting his antics get inside his head.  Carter turned away from Derecho and ran to the corner, climbing the turnbuckle and hoisting the championship high into the air to a roar from the crowd.  The fact that Carter turned his back on Derecho after meeting him face to face was the ultimate sign that he was not afraid here tonight.  Carter hopped down and ran past Derecho to the opposite neutral corner and posed atop the turnbuckle once again.  Derecho simply stood there and cracked his neck as meant to convey the message that he was taking this match seriously.

    Carter hopped down and walked back to the center of the ring where he handed the NBW World Heavyweight Championship over to the referee who awaited the announcements from ring announcer Brent Williams.

    “Ladies and Gentlemen… the following contest is your MAIN EVENT for this evening and it is set for one fall under Anything Goes rules.  This match will be for the N-B-W… WORLD… Heavyweight Championship!”

    The crowd cheered.

    “Introducing first, the challenger… from Stuart, Florida… weighing in a 234 lbs…. The self-proclaimed “King of Hell..”  DE----RE----CHO!!!

    Derecho stood motionless through his introduction.  He just kept his eyes on Carter the entire time.

    “And his opponent… from Bismark, North Dakota… weighing in at 209 lbs… he is the N-B-W… WORLD Heavyweight Champion… “The Quick Pin Kid…”  “The Heart of NBW…” LUCKYYYYYY… CAAAARRRRRRTER!”

    With that, senior referee Chuck Radford held up the NBW World Heavyweight Championship high into the air and then passed it off to ringside.  He checked to make sure both combatants were ready and then he called for the bell.

    DING

    DING

    DING


    Immediately Derecho…… walked away!?

    Derecho turned his back to Carter and exited the ring.  He walked over to the ringside area and grabbed a steel chair from the time keeper’s position. Derecho walked back over to the ring where he rolled inside, stood and walked over to Lucky Carter.  Then, Derecho did the most puzzling thing…

    He handed the chair to Carter!!

    Derecho looked at Carter dead in his face and he told Carter to take the first shot!  Derecho did the same thing in their previous match and this decision ultimately cost Derecho the NBW World Championship!  He was about to repeat his mistake here tonight!  Was Derecho really still this overconfident after everything that has happened!?

    Carter paused because he remembered winning his last match when Derecho gave him a free shot.  The idea to hit Derecho was tempting, but something just wasn’t quite right about it.  Carter had this nagging suspicion in the back of his head that there was some treachery afoot here.  So Carter did something Derecho did not expect one bit.

    Cartner handed the chair back to Derecho!

    He put The King of Hell’s favorite weapon right into his hands.  Derecho gritted his teeth and threw the chair down onto the canvas and took a swing with a big right hand, but the counter-plan was a success and Carter ducked it!  The two traded positions and Carter went to town on Derecho!

    Right hand!
    Chop!
    Right hand!
    Chop!
    Right hand!
    Chop!
    Right hand!
    Chop!
    Right hand!

    Each blow backed Derecho towards the ropes!  Carter grabbed Derecho by the arm and went for an Irish Whip, but Derecho reversed and sent Carter to the ropes instead.  Carter bounced off of them and leapt into the air, taking Derecho down with a Flying Forearm!  Derecho popped back up, but so did Carter.  Carter then nailed a standing Dropkick that took Derecho down again!  Derecho rolled out of the ring to the outside to recollect himself as this crowd continued to rally behind the World Champion! 

    Carter got a full head of steam as he saw Derecho get to his feet.  Carter flipped over the top rope and took Derecho back down with a Tope con Giro!  The crowd was firmly behind the champion as he got to his feet!

    “LUCKY CARTER!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “LUCKY CARTER!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “LUCKY CARTER!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “LUCKY CARTER!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “LUCKY CARTER!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap

    Carter grabbed Derecho and pulled him back up to his feet.  He lit him up with a Knife Edge Chop across the chest that staggered him back.  Carter hit another chop, then a third, then a fourth, then, finally, a fifth before he grabbed Derecho by the arm and whipped him towards the barricades, but Derecho reversed it once again and sent Carter on his way instead.  Carter leapt up onto the top of the barricade and moonsaulted off onto Derecho, taking him back down to the floor once more!

    Carter rolled into the ring and grabbed the steel chair that Derecho had left behind.  He rolled back to the outside and waited for Derecho to stand.  Carter then jammed the business end of the chair into Derecho’s stomach, doubling him over!  Carter swung and cracked the chair over Derecho’s back, bringing him down to a single knee!  Derecho winced in pain as Carter lined up Derecho to take another shot.  Carter used an overhead swing, aiming for Derecho’s head when Derecho put his arms up and blocked the shot!

    Derecho got back to his feet and ripped the chair out of Carter’s hands.  Derecho quickly took a swing for Carter’s head, but Carter ducked the shot and the two traded positions.  Carter shuffled back and lunged in…

    HORSESHOE!!

    Carter just Super Kicked the chair right into Derecho’s face and he hit the ground hard!!

    “OOOOH!!!” groaned the crowd.

    Carter saw this as an opportunity. He quickly grabbed Derecho and rolled him into the ring. Carter re-entered and immediately went into the pinfall attempt, hooking the leg.

    One…

    Two..


    Derecho got the shoulder up!


    Carter rolled out of the ring and grabbed the steel chair once again.  He rolled back in just as Derecho was getting back to a vertical base.  Carter jammed the chair into Derecho’s stomach once more and cracked it over his back, bringing back down to a knee for a second time. Carter wasted no time and swung the chair into Derecho’s back once again, this time putting the former champion down on all fours. Carter took a couple of steps back and dropped the chair.  He ran at Derecho, but Derecho popped to his feet, grabbed Carter, spun and planted him…

    ANDERSON SPINEBUSTER!

    Derecho connected with his first piece of offense of the match and it leveled Lucky Carter!  Derecho stood up and cracked his neck from side to side as the icy stare of his blue eyes pierced a hole through Lucky Carter.  Derecho pulled Carter back up to his feet and sent him off to the ropes. Off the rebound, Derecho picked Carter up and for a second time…

    ANDERSON SPINEBUSTER!

    Derecho popped back up to his feet and stared down at Carter once again.  He then meandered over to the ropes and exited the ring, lifting up the ring apron.  Derecho reached underneath and pulled a ladder out from under the ring!  Typically, Derecho would find a multitude of steel chairs, but not this time!

    Derecho grabbed the ladder and made a bridge with it between the ring apron and the announce table.  Once that was set up, Derecho rolled back into the ring and picked up the steel chair off the canvas.  Carter was slowly getting back up after having the wind knocked right out of him.  Derecho stood up and came face to face with a smiling Derecho.  Carter backed up and lunged in, trying to catch Derecho off guard with another Super Kick, but Derecho side stepped it and returned the favor from earlier by jamming the chair right into Carter’s stomach, doubling him over!  Derecho dropped the chair at his feet, quickly grabbed Carter’s head and in one fell swoop, spiked him into the chair with a DDT!

    Derecho popped back up to his feet and he grinned as he knew Carter should be out for a bit after a move like that.  Derecho grabbed Carter by his ragged hair and pulled him back up.  Derecho walked Carter over to the ring ropes where Derecho stepped out first and then pulled Carter through onto the ring apron.  Derecho then hoisted Carter up onto his shoulder as it became very evident that he was looking to hit A Forever Reminder onto that bridged ladder!

    Derecho took a couple of steps towards the ladder, but Carter kicked and squirmed his way off of Derecho’s shoulder, landing on the ring apron behind him.  Carter pivoted, leapt up and…

    HANGMAN’S NECK BREAKER ON THE RING APRON!!

    Carter took the brunt of that as well and flopped down to the floor.  Derecho remained on the apron as the impact to his spine caused his body to tense up.  Derecho gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. He couldn’t move after a jarring hit like that.  Carter held his back as he rolled around on the floor as the toll from that move was taken on him as well.  Carter rolled towards the barricades and used them to pull himself up. The fans patted him on the shoulders and back as Carter stared at Derecho just laying there on the ring apron.

    Carter stumbled over and drove the point of his elbow into Derecho’s sternum a number of times.  Carter then flipped Derecho over onto his stomach and positioned him back into the edge of the ring.  Carter then grabbed Derecho’s head and pulled it off the ring apron just a little so that it was handing over the edge.  Carter then drove the point of his elbow into Derecho’s upper back a few more times for extra damage.  Carter then walked away and told the crowd to hush for a moment and they did..  Carter turned and…

    SMACK!!!!!

    HORSESHOE TO THE SIDE OF DERECHO’S HEAD!!!

    WT1


    The kick sandwiched Derecho’s head between Carter’s boot and the ring apron!!!!  The smack was sickening as it echoed throughout the arena!  Derecho’s limp, dead body, flopped to the outside, landing with a thud on the floor!!

    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”

    The former World Champion was being bested in a match that was considered his wheel house!  Lucky Carter was doing it again!

    Carter was taking this time to stretch his back as he needed to ward off the effects of that neck breaker he executed earlier.  After two major hits like that, he knew that Derecho wasn’t going to go anywhere any time soon so he took as much time as he needed to get his back muscles warmed back up.  Once Carter was feeling a bit better, he walked over and pulled Derecho to his feet.  Even with the amount of time that had passed, Derecho was still dead weight and Carter thought that maybe… just maybe… Derecho was completely out cold.

    Carter rolled Derecho back into the ring where he followed quickly with a pinning combination.

    One….

    Two…

    Th..
    NO!!

    Derecho popped the shoulder up and even though it had been a minute or two, Carter was still able to get a really close nearfall on the former world champion!  Carter knew he was one good move away from going 3-0 against Derecho! 

    Carter stood back up and pulled Derecho to his feet.  Carter kicked Derecho in the stomach to double him over before turning his back to Derecho and hooking the head!  He was looking for the standing Shiranui..  The Lucky Break, but as he flipped over, Derecho reached up and wrapped his arms around Carter’s waist!  He had Carter on his shoulder and…

    A FOREVER REMINDER!!!!

    From out of nowhere, Derecho countered Carter’s finisher with his own!  Derecho; however, couldn’t follow up as he was only able to pull himself up to a seated position.  He was shaking his head, still feeling the effects of that Super Kick against the ring apron.  It really must have scrambled Derecho’s signals because he didn’t exactly know where he was, still. Derecho looked over and saw Carter laying on the canvas and then he realized just what had happened.  Derecho crawled over and made the cover without hooking a leg.

    One…

    Two…


    Carter kicked out!

    Too much time had passed and Derecho couldn’t capitalize off the Emerald Flowsion.  Derecho rolled off of Carter and shimmied over to the corner where he sat against the turnbuckles, leaning his head against them.  Derecho was hurting and he needed this time to regroup and recollect himself, much like Carter did after the neck breaker. Referee Chuck Radford even checked on Derecho to make sure he wasn’t showing signs of a concussion and initial protocol dictates that Derecho was fine.  He just had his bell rung pretty good as it seems.

    Derecho grabbed the middle set of ropes and used them to get back to his feet.  Derecho began to walk around the ring and once he realized he had full control of his motor skills, he turned his attention back to Lucky Carter with a look that could kill. 

    Derecho bent down and pulled Carter back to his feet, but Carter shocked Derecho with a Jaw Breaker!  Derecho staggered back into the corner where he had to use the ropes to prop himself up!  Carter popped back up and charged the corner, looking for a heat seeking missile dropkick, but Derecho moved out of the way!  Carter crashed and burned in the corner, but when Carter got back up, his back was to Derecho!  Derecho charged in and nailed a Northern Lariat from behind and the impact sent Carter face first into the middle turnbuckle pad!!  Now it was Carter that took a huge blow to the head and he was down and out on the canvas!!

    “OOOOH!!!”

    Derecho exited the ring and lifted up the ring apron.  He reached inside and pulled out another ladder!  He slid that one into the ring, but he didn’t re-enter.  Instead, he reached back under the ring and pulled out not one but two steel chairs and threw those back into the ring as well. That was when Derecho rolled back inside and put the boots to Carter to make sure that he stayed down in the corner.  Derecho turned his attention to the ladder he brought in and he turned it on its side, positioning it in the middle of the ring.  Derecho then grabbed a steel chair and unfolded the ladder slightly.  He placed the chair upright in between the ladder and closed it back up so that the seat was sticking up out of it.

    Derecho left the second and third chairs in the ring alone for now.  Derecho turned his attention back to Carter where he pulled him up to his feet.  Derecho walked Carter over to the ladder contraption that he just set up, but Carter began to fight back with rights to the side of Derecho’s head, but Derecho countered that with a swift knee to the mid-section!  Derecho spun Carter around and got underneath him from behind.  Derecho lifted Carter up and…

    ATOMIC DROP ONTO THE CHAIR STICKING OUT OF THE LADDER!!!

    Every man in the audience doubled over in pain.  Everyone else just covered their mouths!  Carter flopped to his side and the ladder tilted over with him.  Derecho cracked a grin as he was just getting warmed up.  Derecho opened up the ladder and fastened it so it stayed opened.  He then dragged Carter onto the ladder and then closed it, sandwiching him between.  Derecho picked up one of the three steel chairs in the ring and began to rain down shot after shot on the ladder.

    WT2


    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    CRACK!
    Ten sicking, echoing shots caused the steel of the ladder to reverberate throughout Carter’s body! Derecho told the crowd to hush, but they booed him instead.  Derecho acted like he was going for a big swing of the chair onto the ladder, but he changed it up and…

    DERECHO SIDE SLAMMED THE CHAIR ONTO CARTER’S EXPOSED FACE!!!

    Only Carter’s torso was trapped between the ladder. Carter’s head was sticking out like a sore thumb and with nowhere to go, Derecho jammed the chair dead into Carter’s face! 

    NOW the crowd went silent.  If Derecho knew how to do one thing, it’s how to make a crown go silent when they won’t shut up when he asks them to. 

    Derecho stood back up and the look of sanity slowly began to slip away on Derecho’s face.  This is where he was at home.  With his opponent like a wounded animal on its last leg and with the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted to them… that was where Derecho was at home the most in these kind of matches.  Lucky Carter had put up a hell of a fight, but now it was time to watch The King of Hell school the world on just why he was given that nickname.

    Derecho pulled the lifeless Carter out from between the ladder and pulled him up to his feet.  He brought Carter over to the corner and placed him into the tree of woe.  Derecho then placed one of the steel chairs against Carter’s head.  He then placed a second steel chair against the first and then the third against the second!  Three chairs on their side stacked against Carter’s head.  Derecho then maneuvered the ladder in front of the chairs with the top of the ladder pointing right at them.  Derecho backed away into the corner, turned and charged in.

    CRACK!

    CRASH!!

    BASEBALL SLIDE INTO THE LADDER INTO THE CHAIRS INTO CARTER’S FACE!!

    People in the crowd continued to cover their mouths as Derecho just sent that ladder into the worst possible place!  Derecho stood up and began to laugh to himself as he was practically frothing at the mouth to peel back the layers and witness the results of his work.  Derecho, moved the ladder and the chairs plopped over on their own.  What was revealed was a pool of blood under Carter’s head and his forehead quickly becoming a crimson mask.

    The people in the audience clamored amongst themselves as they started to fear for Lucky Carter’s safety after seeing that blood.  Derecho unhooked Carter from the corner and let his limp body flop back into the ring.  Derecho dragged Carter away from the corner and then placed the ladder on top of him.  Derecho made his way to the corner and climbed up to the top turnbuckle pad..  Derecho took aim and leapt off…

    FROG SPLASH ONTO THE LADDER AND CARTER!

    Derecho held his own ribs in pain after that one. Maybe it wasn’t such a smart move, but any who has seen Derecho in this environment knows that Derecho is more than willing to destroy himself in order to destroy others.

    Carter has taken shot after shot after shot of some of Derecho’s best.  Derecho felt that the end  had pretty much come and gone. All that was left was to claim his world championship for the third time.  He crawled over to Carter and shoved the ladder off of him.  He made the cover, hooking the leg.

    One…

    Two…

    Three…


    The people in the crowd looked away in disgust, but when some of them heard the roars from the crowd, those who looked away looked back and saw Carter’s shoulder up in the air!!!

    IT WAS A TWO COUNT!  LUCKY CARTER KICKED THE FUCK OUT!


    Nobody could believe it!  The crowd couldn’t believe it… Derecho couldn’t believe it… even the damn referee who made the count couldn’t believe it!  Lucky Carter just kicked out of all of that and nobody except Lucky Carter knew why or how!

    Derecho stood up, maintaining that shocked expression. He grabbed Carter and pulled him back up to his feet.  Derecho rocked him with lefts and rights, combinations blows as Carter did his best to maintain his balance, but he fell to a single knee.  Derecho pulled him back up and whipped him to the ropes by the announce position.  Carter grabbed the ropes and held on.  Derecho, blind with rage, charged in at Carter, but Carter ducked down and lifted Derecho up and over. It was at that moment, Derecho remembered the ladder he had set up earlier between the ring and announce table because his face just bounced off of it!!!!

    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”

    WT3

    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”


    Lucky Carter immediately collapsed back down to the canvas.  When the camera panned over to where Derecho was, we all learned that Lucky Carter wasn’t the only one wearing a crimson mask now as Derecho had been busted open as well!  Both men were down, but Radford was unable to make a ten count due to the Anything Goes rules.

    Carter slowly turned over onto all fours and began to crawl towards the center of the ring where the ladder laid there.  Derecho was still down and out on the outside, bleeding. Carter turned the ladder on its side and used it as a prop to get himself back up to a vertical base.  Carter took a moment or two to get his bearings straight and to wipe the blood out of his eyes.  Carter looked back and saw Derecho beginning to stir.  Derecho used the announce table to pull himself up and that’s when Carter motioned to C.G. Gains and Melissa Vanderart to move.  Gains and Vanderart looked at each other and nodded as they got out of Dodge.

    Carter picked up the ladder and held it in his arms.  As Derecho staggered to his feet he turned around to see Carter running at the ropes.  Carter then lawn darted the ladder over the top rope to the outside!  Derecho put up his arms, but it wasn’t enough to block it completely!  Derecho ate it right in the face!

    “OOOOH!!!!!”

    Derecho fell down against the announce table while the ladder bounced off of him and fell to the floor at ringside.  Carter held onto the ropes to keep himself vertical as Derecho continued to sit there in a heap with his back against the table.  Carter then grabbed the top rope and pointed to the outside.  The crowd, who already saw his condition started a chant for his safety.

    “PLEASE DON’T DIE!”
    “PLEASE DON’T DIE!”
    “PLEASE DON’T DIE!”
    “PLEASE DON’T DIE!”
    “PLEASE DON’T DIE!”


    Carter looked out to the crowd and yelled back.

    “SAY THAT TO HIM!”


    With that, Carter leapt to the top rope and flew off…

    SHOTGUN DROPKICK DEAD IN THE FACE!!!

    Carter flew from the inside of the ring to the outside, slamming both boots straight into Derecho’s face which, in turn, slammed the back of his head into the announce table, but Carter didn’t take into account that the ladder he threw out of the ring was on the floor and he landed tailbone first onto the steel!  Needless to say, writhing in pain only began to describe the look of angst on Carter’s face!

    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”
    “HOLY SHIT!”

    Soon after that chant died out, it was replaced by

    “THIS IS AWESOME!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “THIS IS AWESOME!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “THIS IS AWESOME!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “THIS IS AWESOME!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap
    “THIS IS AWESOME!” Clap Clap ClapClapClap

    Chuck Radford exited the ring amongst the chants to check on both men.  Derecho slumped over into a heap on his side while Carter was laying face down on the floor holding his tailbone in pain. Carter audibly told Radford he was still good to go while Derecho simply nodded that he was good as well. 

    Carter slowly crawled over to the ring steps and used them to pull himself up.  He then turned and sat down on the top step.  While the surface was hard, it was also cool, being metal and all, and it soothed him just a little bit.  Carter tried to stand and it was still a bit tender to do so, but being the NBW World Heavyweight Champion meant pressing on until the job was done.  Carter used the ring apron to guide himself as he walked over to the ladder he fell on and kicked it out of spite which garnered a couple of laughs from the crowd.

    Carter then stopped and took a good look at the ladder. He looked up and saw the one still bridged between the apron and the announce table and then Carter had an idea.  Carter gingerly bent over and picked up the ladder and then hobbled it over, placing it on top of the other one, creating a double thick ladder bridge!  Carter turned his attention to Derecho as he pulled him back up to his feet.  Carter mustered up whatever strength he had left and lifted Derecho up, placing him on top of the double ladder bridge face up.

    Carter rolled back inside the ring and used the ropes to get back up.  He went to the corner and climbed up to the top turnbuckle pad ever so slowly.  Derecho; however, rolled off the ladder and landed on his feet.  Carter saw it, but before he could react, Derecho hopped up onto the ring apron and punched him in the head with a right hand.  Derecho hit another and another until Carter was dazed.  Derecho then turned his back to the ropes and hopped up to the middle rope/turnbuckle from the ring apron.  He pulled Carter onto his shoulder as the crowd stood up and held their breaths, but Carter fired elbow after elbow into Derecho’s head and eventually squirmed free, landing back inside the ring.

    Derecho turned around and saw Carter try and shoulder block through the ropes, but Derecho stepped back and kicked Carter dead in the chest!  Derecho rolled back into the ring and grabbed Carter from behind.  He pulled Carter out of the ropes and went for a German Suplex, but Carter still fought back with more back elbows to the head which got Derecho to release the hold.  Carter reached back and hooked Derecho by the head!  He flipped over…

    THE LUCKY BREAK…

    ...COUNTERED

    A FOREVER REMINDER….

    …COUNTERED!!

    Lucky landed behind Derecho and shuffled back and when Derecho turned around…

    HORSESHOE….

    ...SIDE STEPPED!

    Derecho went back into the German Suplex, but he turned and tried to throw Carter into the turnbuckles with it, but when he went to lift Carter, Carter blocked and rolled through with a Victory Roll!!!

    One…

    Two..

    Thre..
    NO!!!!

    Derecho kicked away!

    Derecho immediately got back up, but Carter was still a bit slow due to the damage he sustained. Derecho saw his opportunity and lunged in…


    SHINING WIZARD!!

    It was Derecho who now had the cover…

    One…

    Two…

    Thr..
    NO!!!

    Luck Carter got the shoulder up!

    Derecho began to pull his hair out!  The biggest stage NBW had to offer.. The richest prize up for grabs… the most brutal match and Derecho could not seize his destiny! 

    Derecho looked over at the corner and saw the three steel chairs that were used earlier in the match.  Derecho got up and walked over, picking up two of them.  He unfolded them one by one and placed them in the center of the ring with the seats facing each other, but not touching.  He then grabbed the third steel chair and left it folded. He placed that on top of the other two, forming a bridge between the two unfolded chairs.  Derecho then made a slashing motion across his throat as he walked over and picked up Lucky Carter.

    Derecho walked Carter over to the chairs and hooked him for a Vertical Suplex.  He lifted Carter, but Carter placed his leg between Derecho’s a blocked the move!  Derecho tried it again, but Carter blocked it a second time.  Carter then reversed it and lifted Derecho up into the air.  Carter pivoted 90 degrees and hit a Vertical Suplex onto the canvas rather than the ropes.  Carter held on, turned over and pulled Derecho back up. He hooked the leg and lifted Derecho up, but he pivoted again and…

    CRASH!

    FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX THROUGH THE CHAIR BRIDGE!!

    WT4


    The chairs broke under the weight of the impact!!  Carter turned over and draped his arm across Derecho!  The crowd hit their feet and counted along…

    ONE!

    TWO!!

    THREE…
    NO!!!!

    DERECHO KICKED OUT AGAIN!

    Now it was Lucky Carter who wanted to pull his hair out.  Both men, broken, tired, bloodied, and on the verge of their limits, but neither man could put each other away!  Carter dragged Derecho out of the chairs and placed him between the wrecked chairs and the corner.  Carter staggered to the turnbuckles and climbed up top.  He took aim, but Derecho did something rather resourceful. He grabbed a steel chair with his left arm right as Carter was about to leap off, Derecho flung it into the corner!  While the chair only hit Carter in the leg, it was enough to distract him!  Derecho pulled himself up and grabbed another mangled chair and he ran at the corner…

    CRACK!!!

    MANGLED CHAIR TO THE SKULL!

    Carter was about to fall, but Derecho held him up!  Derecho then stepped out onto the ring apron and assumed the position he was in before. He hopped to the middle rope and pulled Carter over his shoulder, but Carter was upside down….

    No…

    Derecho wouldn’t…..

    Derecho did….

    CRASH!!!!!!

    VORTEX DDT OFF THE MIDDLE ROPE ONTO THE DOUBLE LADDER BRIDGE!!!!!

    The Vortex DDT.. the Candian Backbreaker, flipped into a DDT… almost like an inverted Emerald Flowsion.. Just drilled Carter’s face and chest into the ladder!  The worst part of that impact…. With it being double thick…. The ladders didn’t break and both men bounced off the steel!

    While the ladders didn’t break, the impact did caused them to move and collapse which sent both men down to the floor!

    The referee immediately exited the ring to check on Lucky Carter.  Derecho barely absorbed any of the ladder thanks to Carter, but Carter was hurt and hurt bad.  The referee asked Carter if he could continue, but Carter wasn’t responding.

    Derecho sat there against the edge of the ring looking over at Carter’s lifeless body and he was grinning from ear to ear.

    The referee continued to check on Carter, but Derecho pulled himself up.  He shoved Chuck Radford out of the way and Derecho grabbed Carter, who was pure dead weight, back to his feet.  He hoisted Carter onto his shoulder.  The referee begged and pleaded Derecho not to do it.  In fact, the referee yelled out.

    “STOP!  HE’S INJURED!  STOP!”

    But, Derecho simply shrugged.  He walked over and…

    A FOREVER REMINDER ON TOP OF THE THE LADDERS!!

    The referee held the top of his head in disbelief.  The referee had no choice…

    DING

    DING

    DING


    The referee quickly told Brent Williams the decision and then got between Derecho and Lucky Carter.

    “STOP!  IT’S OVER…. YOU WIN… JUST STOP!”

    When the ringside area heard the referee’s words, they began to boo loudly. Then, Brent Williams followed.

    “Ladies and Gentlemen. The referee has stopped this match because Lucky Carter cannot continue.  Therefore, the winner via Knock Out and NEW NBW World Heavyweight Champion…. DERECHO!”

    No music played.  Instead, emergency officials rushed from the backstage area, complete with a stretched.  Once they swarmed Lucky Carter, Chuck Radford grabbed the title and handed it to Derecho.

    Derecho didn’t even look at the title.  He didn’t even care that he just became the world champion for the third time here in NBW.  He acted like the championship was his all along and that he had just gotten it back from someone who was holding onto it for him. He just stood there and stared at the medical personnel preparing Lucky Carter for transport.

    Derecho got closer and looked down at the unconscious Carter.  Derecho grabbed one of the medical personnel and shoved him out of the way.  They all tried to stop him, but Derecho bent over and wiped some of the blood off of Carter’s forehead.  Derecho then used the blood to smear it across Lucky Carter’s name on the NBW World Heavyweight Championship and then he hoisted the title up into the air for the world to see.

    The amount of boos Derecho got for that was staggering.  Derecho backed away from the carnage he caused.  The camera panned back. The EMTs working on Lucky Carter in the foreground… Derecho holding the NBW World Heavyweight Championship up in the background.

    That picture was worth over a thousand words.  Call him The King of the Underground… Call him The King of Hell…. Call him The World Breaker…. It didn’t matter.  What did matter was that for the third time, you could call Derecho NBW World Heavyweight Champion.

     


    CREDITS

    FROM ALL NBW AND ASSOCIATED, CONGRATS SETH & SARAH SHEEHAN ON YOUR NEW BORN SON!!!
    -----
    Intro - Dusty
    Max Hopper Verus Travis Martinez - Ernie/Cordero
    Payback is a Bitch - Dusty
    AList Versus The Entertainers - Keegan
    Face to Face w/Trent McKnight - Keegan
    Tailgating Donnybrook - Jonny
    Spike Saunders Versus Warren Spade - Markus
    Different Breed/Johnny Bedlam Versus HMMS/'Big' Rick Strongbern - Jonny/Gorman
    Itís Dangerous to Go Alone, Take This Tournament - Ernie/SIR THOMAS EDITH FORD, III
    Brock Newbludd Versus Ravage - Gorman
    Plus one more makes FIVE - Mitchell
    You FAILED - Dusty
    Ali Amore Versus Benjamin Jones - Keegan
    Hungrier - Keegan
    Mariella Jade Flair/Zhalia Fears/For The Win/Mitchell Quinlan Versus Michele Couli/Hellion Sisters/Crimson Tide - Mitchell/Dusty
    The Art of War - Mitchell
    Keegan Versus Willis - Keegan
    Pulse Returns - Dusty
    The Rich Family Versus The Unstoppables - Keegan
    Our Main Event - Dusty
    Derecho Versus Lucky Carter - Josh


     

     

     

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