No Brand Wrestling Presents: SLAM! Episode LXXXIV
    Live from The Epic II Arena - St. Louis, Mo.





    V/O - “Over ten years ago a small-time promotion out of Reading, PA came to existence. Over the years superstars have debuted and grown, some have retired, and others are still around today. Owners have changed. Locations have shifted. But one thing has always stayed the same. The name. Three Initials that have survived through the thick and the thin.”

    The NBW logo is shown as it fades in and out showing the various designs from past to present. The voice-over by Trent McKnight continues.

    V/O - “Those initials represent the past, the present, and the future. No Borders. No Boundaries. No Bull. Nothing But Wrestling. Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to the NBW!”

    A video package rolls showing past wrestlers and on-screen talent from the original promoter Alex Styles to Xander Napoli onto the current: Thaddeus Boyle. Three different men with three different agendas, all of which were responsible for the success that is NBW.

    V/O - “Many athletes have paved the way for the current generation entertaining the fans every week.”

    Shots of Jason Kain, Maximizer, Frost, Rey Campbell, Cal Roberts, Blake Gray, Rejection, Uncensored, Jade Greene and Alan Helms filled the screen before being replaced with shots of macWICKED, Ali Amore, Lunatic, D-T, Max Hopper, High Flyer, Sam Potright, Dream Warriors, Rik Bone, Callie Urban, Heaven and Hell, Shawn Jessica Hart, Remy Leroux, Brock Metzer, The Gordon Brothers, Andrew Martin, Mat Walton, William Arthur Reagan, Nightlife USA, Sweet Daddy K, Techno Dragon and numerous others as the clips speed up to a blur.

    Side to side ‘Special K’ Keegan and ‘the Colossus’ Spike Saunders fade into view before being replaced by an imposing image of the former Double Champion, ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs and his Cheshire-like smile.

    His image is replaced by clips of the members of his Upper Echelon; Judasbleek, Warren Spade, and the Son of Malta.

    They are soon replaced by the likes of Vic Gravender, Chris Moliano, Derecho, Judasbleek, Son of Malta, Torment, RaVage, Tremoid, Lexia Hart, Benjamin Jones, For The Win, Johannes Antonious de Castonovo and Aleczander of Family Keeling, Handsome Man Modeling School, Supersquad, Zed, and more as the clips speed up once more.

    V/O - "The time to break the mold is now. To be somebody. To make a mark. To be..."

    The NBW logo spins to life once more and fades out to the simple initials before the opening video for SLAM plays and then the initials return with the logo once more.



    Welcome to SLAM!


    Following the NBW opening package the scene switched to an outside view of the Epic II Arena. Typically we'd see the fans waiting in line and making their way inside. Instead the steps and whole frontal section of the arena is filled with zombies clawing at the fences and clamoring their way up the large steps incline. It was much like the beginning of Dawn of the Dead, and clearly a bit over-exaggerated.

    A roaming flyby shot coutesy of the NBW drone followed the gathering from the steps down the lot, before pulling back up into the sky. The NBW logo appearing with the words: SLAM! Hallow's Eve Special.

    We then blast through the doors and inside the arena where the footage returns live, fans cheering and shoving their signs up in the air. Over half of the fans wearing their halloween costumes and cosplay for the contest announced previously. Everything from the usual ghosts, goblins and witches to superheroes and villains to wrestlers and athletes. Plus thing in between from famous movies and videogames. The contest would definitely have competition.

    Following an overhead shot by the drone we come to focus on the commentators desk section. Melissa Vanderart smiled as the camera came on her, while she was currently dressed as Cleopatra. And next to her was a chair turned around with long flowing hair over the back of it.

    "Welcome everyone to a very special edition of SLAM!" Was the greeting by Vanderart. "It's Halloween tonight, both outside and inside this arena as can be seen. "With me as usual is C-" she was interupted by a cough. "What?"

    "Do it."
    Came the voice behind the chair.
    "No way. I'm not saying it."

    "Come on. Get into the spirit, Cleo."

    She sighed, "Fine..." Melissa paused and took a deep breath, "and joining me tonight is none other than the legend and former NBW Multi-Champion... 'SUPERSTAR' Vince Jacobs."

    The chair spun around to reveal C.G. Gains dressed up as his idol, hero, or whatever SVJ was to him. The hair, the strap on goatee, and of course the pants.

    "The best damn wrestler. Period. Exclamation Mark. Dot dot dot. TM." Gains was full of confidence, obviously.

    "I'm sure he's watching at home, Craig. But that's enough of that. We have a LONG night ahead of us on this special episode of SLAM! Matches and action. That includes the contract signing between NBW WOrld Heavyweight Champion Derecho and his number one contender in Warren Spade."

    "Also don't forget our Main Event, Mel. Tonight we'll find out who will go to PRIDE and save the Blitzkrieg championship away from that villain Brock Newbludd. Two great men which has me at odds as to who to back."

    "We will also have another match in the first round of the Keystone contenders tournament when Matt Haddon takes on the debuting Matt Meyhu!"

    "But first, it's time to add a bit more handsome out here. Your truly already included of course. So Brent, if you would!"

    Count Dracula, aka Brent Williams, stood at the center of the ring ready to do what he did best.




    “This opening tag team match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first-”


    “Talk Dirty To Me (HMMS Edit)” by Jason Derulo feat. 2 Chainz.

    The crowd jeered and booed as the Handsome Man Modeling School arrogantly walked out on the stage. The three men were sporting their usual wrestling gear, leaving their designer clothing in the back.

    “Making their way to the ring at this time, accompanied by Benny Reyes, at a combined weight of four hundred and forty nine pounds… ‘Photogenic’ Peter Pham and ‘Tantalizing’ Taylor Smith… they are The Handsome Man Modeling School!”

    The trio walked down to the ring and stepped up the steps and on into the ring. Smith yanking the microphone from Brent Williams grasp.

    “I’ll take that uggo. I see you like all these infested wastes of space have dressed down to your true forms.” Smith frowned and shook his head. “Halloween. The day that you all get to go about your normal days dressed like morons, and looking like a donkey just shat you out.”

    Reyes and Pham laughed.

    “Then again, that’s everyday for you all!” Smith laughed at their misfortune. “Yet even we have partaken tonight.” He pointed to his left arm which had a slash of yellow paint on it, “some moronic flesh bag splashed paint on us while walking into the arena tonight.”

    Sure enough both Reyes and Pham had similar splashes on their arms.

    “How dare they ruin our skin! I hope their bags of candy have holes, and their children get razor blades!” Smith looked back at Pham and Reyes who nodded in unison. “Tonight we have to face that clown wig duo while our beautiful skin has been desecrated. For the Win have it easy tonight. But we’re looking past them uggo’s and at the Dynasty Tag Team titles. Or maybe the three of us can collect some singles gold to wear around our luscious waists after we beat For the Win tonight.”

    “For The LOOOOOOOOOOSERS” remarked Benny with a chuckle. Then started to cough and doubled over, holding his gut. “I think… I may have caught something.”

    Reyes swayed and Smith dropped the mic while he and Pham helped him to the ropes, and down to floor. Benny took a seat next to the announcers desk then laid back, and covered his forehead with his palm while Gaines next to him offered him his bottled water.

    “HURRY! Anybody in the back listening, get out here quick! Call 911!” Gains called across his headset. “This is an Emergency!”

    “... I hear snoring.” Vanderart remarked, and sure enough Reyes eyes were closed and he was clearly snoring as Smith and Pham hovered around him.

    “And their opponents-” continued the Count as he recovered the microphone that Smith had dropped.

    The lights then suddenly shut off. Static filled the PA system. Bursts of static upon static. Then a voice broke through.

    “Boomer spotted! Flanked by two witches!”

    “Bit busy here!”

    The EpiCenter I lit up to an outside view of The Epic II arena. Except it was anything but a normal sight. The steps were littered with corpses and charging zombie-like men and women. Shot after shot rang out in the air as bullets collided and pierced through the zombies.

    “Incoming!” was shouted moments before an explosion rocked the steps and sent bodies in all directions.

    A spitter shot off and immediately the searing sound of flesh starting to melt and rot away filled the PA speakers.

    “Hey, toss me the first aid!”

    “Got it.” A first-aid pack was flung and caught. Wrap then placed around the wrists before the same hands reached over at the wall and pulled off the emergency fire axe. Swinging it forward just in time to decapitate a jockey before it had a chance to land on him.

    The EpiCenter I continued to show as they pushed their way through and up the steps, entering the main lobby. Security, clearly infected, swarmed them and were blasted away by repeated shotgun blasts. The action suddenly took a speed increase as they sprinted down the corridors, shooting anything and everything that came upon them, before drawing to a stop at a large double-door.

    “Hurry it up!”

    He fired off several shots from his shotgun while backing into the door and kicking it open. The fans went nuts as two men in survivalist gear backed out through the curtains, their backs to the ring. From view they were wearing some odd looking gadgets, and to the technophiles, it was clearly a pair of Microsoft Hololens. On screen the zombies continued to encroach as the door swung shut.

    “We’re safe… for now.”

    The screen faded to black while revealing the words:

    “Left for Dead 3...Coming in 2017 to the Hololens and all VR devices and next-gen consoles.”

    With a sigh of relief they turned and pulled their headgear off, followed by the Hololens. Their trademark red and blue hair immediately giving rise to the fans as Brent finished up.

    “Weighing at a combined weight of three hundred and ninety seven pounds, they are the team of Chris Noid and Tony Spark… FOR THE WIN!”

    The two ducked down and placed their helmets and Hololens gear down gently before turning towards the ring and sprinting on down, sliding inside and immediately taking to opposite corners. Sparna and Noid bounded off and went to their corner while HMMS stepped back on the apron and waited out the bell.

    Ding ding ding!

    The NBW faithful were still raving from the entrance for FTW and gameplay of such a anticipated title, they nearly missed the opening bell which saw the two teams right off the bat. Noid met Smith with a series of punches and heavy kicks, looking to gain a bit of distance to fire off with a dropkick that knocked Smith back into the ropes. Whatever was to follow however wouldn’t thanks to Smith ducking low and sweeping behind Noid, catching his neck and twisting him off his feet.

    It’d be Noid that rebounded into the ropes only for Taylor Smith to chop him across the chest. He then grabbed the arm and whipped him out of the ropes into the corner, which he followed suit with a running knee that doubled Noid over. Whipping him out of the corner again, this time rather than release he hit the breaks and yanked him back into the same corner chest first, and unfortunately head to steel.

    Smith followed with a running elbow that Noid managed to block, then stumbled forward, still feeling it, out of the corner. Smith spun around and nail Noid with a diving clothesline! Immediately going for the pin.


    If even that. Smith pulled him back to his feet, dragging him over to the corner and tagged in Peter Pham. Still sporting his blazer which was commonplace for him, Smith held the arms back while Peter fired off several quick shots to the chest, and ended with a hard chop to the chest that nearly knocked the FTW member to the mat.

    This did leave Noid open for a battering of shots from the shortest of the Handsome Man Modelling School, Peter Pham. He completed this task knocking him into the corner, whipping him out and following with a running splash. Peter followed with a bulldog out of the same corner.

    At least attempted to however Noid was able to prevent it having scouted it and instead tossing Pham forward onto his back! Noid rushed the ropes and sprang into Peter with a double axehandle, taking him down, then hit the opposite end of the ring to connect a second time as Peter stood. Finally with a breath he rushed past and made the tag to Tony Spark.

    Spark vaulted over the ropes and caught Pham with a sidekick as he tried to attack Noid from behind. The two then used the ropes to whip him into it and pulled off a double team gourdbuster. Noid left the ring while Spark went on the assault, dropping down with a pair of elbows that he followed up by wrapping his legs in from behind, and locking his arms under the chin.

    While Peter struggled to get free Spark used his left leg to pin down the flailing arm, clenching in the submission even moreso. Of course Taylor Smith wouldn’t let it continue and rushed into Spark with a knee to the side of the head. Warned off by the official but it mattered little as he left the ring once more.

    Spark was up first but before he could get a hole of Pham he at a spinning wheel kick to the face! Peter spun around and dropped the leg over the gullet before scooping the taller wrestler up and driving him down with a powerslam. Once again he scooped him up and this time drove him down into his knee!

    Pham backed off a moment while Spark rolled in agony. He then grabbed him by one arm and dragged him a few feet over to his corner, placing a boot over the chest of Tony while tagging in his partner. Pham ducked low and Taylor pulled him between his legs, raising him up for a powerbomb and drove his partner down onto the chest of Spark.

    Clutching his ribs and back Pham rolled out of the ring while Smith dropped to a knee and pounded his fist down into the forehead of Spark. He then pulled him back up to his feet, swung him around so he was at the side and delivered a russian leg sweep. Once they hit the mat he maneuvered his own leg over the head of Spark, locking it down in an awkward looking submission.

    Spark fought to free himself but Smith simply turned his struggles into a pin rollup!


    Nope! Kickout!

    No matter. Smith waited for Tony to get back to his feet, and charged forward with a forehead-splitting knee, that sent him twisting to the mat once more. Smith took a few steps back and then jumped forward with a stomp to the spine of Spark. He did this a second time from the opposite side of the ring afterward.

    Again he waited and once Spark was up he went low for the legs, only to get pounded on the back and pulled between the legs of Spark, however Smith shot his elbows out at his head and pushed off backward, hooking the neck and delivering a spinning neckbreaker.

    This time he didn’t wait. He went for the legs of Spark, wrapping them with his arms while pivoting around, what followed was a monkey flip that sent Spark colliding with the corner. Smith charged at him with a flying clothesline but Tony ducked low and at the same time lifted Smith so he went chin first to the top of the post.

    Using the ropes to keep himself up he maneuvered behind Smith, caught the neck with his arm and delivered his own neckbreaker. Seizing the moment Spark crawled across to the opposite end of the ring, looking for the tag. With a desperate leap and arm extended he swiped down into his partner’s palm.

    Or would have, if not for Pham coming up behind Noid and pulling his feet out from under him. After sending him into the barricade Pham returned to his side of the ring, while Smith caught Spark from behind. Clubbing down on his back, then sent him into the ropes to catch him on a rebound. However Spark fought back with forearms to the head, until Smith drilled his left knee up into the gut of Spark.

    Smith grabbed him by the head and whipped him around to tackle into Tony, slamming him back first into the corner where Smith tagged in Peter Pham. Smith drilled a second knee to doubleover Spark, then Pham vaulted the top rope, and dropped both boots down across the exposed back.

    Pham wasted little time returning with a series of stomps to the grounded and secured FTW member. Locking in a sidelock he dragged flipped him from the corner and pulled the arm back. This proved to be the wrong move as Spark pushed himself from the mat and got to a standing base, shooting two side elbows into Pham, getting loose and then rebounding from the ropes only to eat a dropkick from Pham!

    Pham with the cover.



    No! Shoulder up from Spark, just in time. Pham couldn’t believe it and spun around to whip Spark back up to his feet by the blue hair upon his head. He whipped him into the ropes, but Spark put on the brakes, pulling him in while ducking low and then lifting him up and over his head for a bridging northern lights.



    No! But Spark immediately rolled over to his hands and knees, sights on his corner he went forward but Pham met him with a spinning wheel kick which he rolled forward under, making the tag to Noid!

    Noid shot into the ring and immediately ran over Pham with a powerful clothesline! Waiting for him to get back to his feet Noid charged forward again with a spinning uppercut that sent Pham back into the corner.  Noid sprinted back a few steps then dashed forward with a leaping clothesline once more.

    The red-haired wonder picked him up with a powerslam, spun him around in the air before delivering a one-handed powerslam. Looking to add to it he pulled Pham back from the mat, sending him into the ropes however when he ducked forward Pham leapt and rolled off his back. Meeting him with a standing heel kick which Noid avoided but that just left him open for the enziguri. Pham then made the tag.

    Smith immediately charged into the ring and across the short distance with his running double-knee strike to Noid. He hooked Noid and raised him up to his feet, then hoisted him up in the air for what looked to be his Face Eraser, however before the hangman’s facebuster could be completed Noid caught him in the side of the head, dropped back to his feet and speared himself forward into Smith, driving him into the corner.

    Noid backed off and started to raise his shirt under that survival gear. The women in the audience hooted and swooned as his abs were revealed, while the men and gamers in general cheered for the reveal of the NES controller belt buckle. They all knew what was next. Pressing up twice, then down, then-

    “STOP THAT!”

    Everyone’s attention, including Noid’s, was averted and redirected to the stage where a short prison guard stood next to a towering inmate.


    On commentary Gains and Vanderart were questioning the actions of the Rick Strongbern given he had a main event match still to come which could secure him a shot at the Blitzkrieg Championship once more - not yet his title.

    Not that it mattered. ‘Little’ Ricky stomped down the ramp while Big Rick stood at the top with his arms crossed and sneered. Benny Reyes, clearly feeling fine, stopped Little Ricky at the bottom of the ramp and got shoved aside and knocked over the barricade for his troubles.

    Inside the ring Smith used the distraction to roll up Noid from behind.




    Noid barely with the escape.

    ‘Little’ Ricky Strongbern pulled Spark from the apron, yanking him back into the barricade then proceeded up the same steps of that post, and stepped into the ring. At this the official called for the bell.

    Ding ding ding!

    Noid rolled out to check on Spark while Little Ricky grabbed Taylor Smith, and whipped him across the ring into the ropes. Smith did the smart thing and slid to the outside while Pham came flying off the top rope with a kick aimed at the face. Instead, he was caught.


    Pham was down for the count, if there were one. Noid and Smith stared at Little Ricky from opposite sides of the ring.

    “I WIN.” ‘Big’ Rick Strongbern gloated in his mic from atop the ramp before turning and heading to the back. This signaled Little Ricky to leave the ring and do the same.

    “What the hell is he doing?” questioned Vanderart.

    “I wonder…” Gains responded, his attention to the matter a bit more welcoming. But just as confused. “Looks like the biggest man in town is standing above everyone in NBW.”

    One would think as the feed faded on out to Spark being helped up the ramp with Noid as support, and Smith and Reyes pulling Pham from the ring.


    Green Giant


    In the middle of a food court, a mother is urging her eight-year-old son to eat his greens when the petulant brat throws his plastic plate of broccoli, carrots and roast potatoes on the floor.

    "Danny, don't be so silly.  What's wrong with you?  Eating vegetables is good for you.  You'll grow up to be big and strong..."

    Danny gets up out of is chair:  "I hate vegetables..."

    Our newfound guardian angel, Chris Smith, is now stood to the side of the table and he points at Danny:  "Eating vegetables IS good for you."

    "Exactly," the mother nods.

    "But, taking a look at you, you're what?  Four feet seven?  Looking at your mom and your natural height...well, unless your dad's the big green giant, you can eat all the vegetables in the world and you still won't be six feet.  Eating can only take you so far.  It's also down to genetics and you simply don't have them, young man."

    Both the boy and mother look surprised.  Chris holds his hands up apologetically: "My name's Chris Smith and I'm keeping it real...for the kids."


    JAC Appreciation Night


    "The festivities has only just begun with this edition of SLAM." Vanderart mentioned as the camera focused on her and Gains.

    "Indeed! And up next is one moment I've been waiting on. It's time to appreciate the former The Zone and Dynasty Tag team Champion with the official Johannes Antonious de Castonovo Appreciation Night!"

    "Oh yay. And hopefully get some answers about his assault on Saunders." She stated less than enthusiastic. Suddenly one by one a steady stream of security personnel walked out and down the ramp, circling the ring and lower part of the ramp way. "Oh give me a break!"

    "Preparation is key, Mel."

    "Ladies and gentlemen. At this time I ask that you all please rise." Williams called out from his usual seat over by the commentary desk. Of course the fans were only selectively standing.

    The moment that 'Bring it' by Trapt started up, those standing took their seats. Brent's purpose was finished as he took a seat the fans jeered the arrival of JAC.

    That is, if he stepped out. He didn't. Instead for those watching at home the feed swapped backstage at the gorilla position. For a moment JAC walked towards the double-doors, and the next he was flying backwards courtesy of being flung by one Spike Saunders.

    Saunders and JAC traded lefts and rights while the fans in the arena, and security, were oblivious at the moment. Those watching at home or on their mobile devices were watching as two men were chipping away at each others skin down to the bone. Saunders would avoid a return strike only to get tackled into the wall. Promptly JAC got a hold of the back of his head and sent his face forward into the concrete.

    This led to an elbow from Saunders right at the forehead which he followed with a stab at the throat. These two had no weapons with them, just their fists and that was all it was going to take. The bruising and gashes on their knuckles were already telling the tale.

    Finally in the arena the EpiCenter II lit up and showed as the two were fighting which alerted security to charge up the ramp. Moments later they were surrounding the two and separating them. Neither man however wanted to step down and instead resorted into tossing the security personnel at each other until an opening was established which Johannes took with his KO Flying Knee Strike.

    Which missed its target and took out two of the guards holding Saunders back. Saunders took that moment to let loose with his Big Boot, which missed Castonovo, and JAC quickly pulled another guard in front of him as a human shield just as Spike drove his fist downward with BOOM! HEADSHOT! JAC capitalized on the miss with a wild uppercut that he followed by slamming his full weight into Saunders, causing the two to crash into the remaining security guards trying to restore order, and tumble down the prestage steps.

    It wasn't pretty. The group crumbled at the bottom of the steps, which thankfully weren't a full flight. Yet somebody in control deemed the right thing to do would be..





    Giving Camera Time to Anybody


    “And did you see the cans on that girl?”

    “Dude, come on, we’re at work.”

    “Who gives a shit?”

    The camera opened quickly to two of the stage-hands walking backstage, about to go do maintenance on some of the stage lighting. The older, portly of the two men laughed.

    “You worry too much, Mark,” said the stage-hand. “I’ve heard the wrestlers say way way worse on TV.”

    “Uh … all right, Bob.”

    Mark and Bob as they are now known had a ladder set up to fix a light backstage. This seems like an unusual thing to give a lot of camera time to, but then the camera backed up and a short and well-built man with black hair and a leather jacket approaching.

    “Hey … “ said the man. “Cock-gobblers … you seen the locker room of the Unstoppables?”

    Mark turned to the man.

    “Nice Halloween costume, prick,” he said. “And they’re down that way.” He said pointing down the corridor.”

    “Bob!” yelled Mark. He then turned to the man in the coat. “I’m sorry. Mark may have been hitting the punch a little hard if you know what I mean.”

    “I don’t give a shit.” said the man in the coat. “This ain’t a costume, asshole. This jacket is worth more than your life.”

    The man in the coat walked past the two stagehands and Mark and Bob went back to their business as the show moved on.


    Amore vs Donny Rich


    On Slam 83, The Rich Family essentially declared war on two fronts; one with Ali Amore, headed by 'The First,' to snatch the Keystone crown and opposite The Entertainers, who got caught in the crossfire.

    Darren Best had been intentionally barricaded in The Entertainers' locker room, the faction well aware he'd try to chip away at the four-on-two odds, and Alfie had to be taken out due to his association with Ali, he was bound to fight back.

    As a result, Alfie kicked off at Darren, not only for not being there, but for berating the Brit in his negligence; he, unlike Benjamin Jones or Xiang, hadn't gone for Amore's arm - the most-known injury in nbW in Lucky Carter's absence.

    In a recent poll on the nbW.com, Donny was the overwhelming winner to face Ali tonight, much to big brother Freddie's chagrin, as we saw earlier.  Well, some of you.  Just checking you read the show

    Donny was already in the ring.  'That's Amore' played, provoking a wonderful ovation for the Keystone champion, that title wasn't on the line tonight, and if Declan or Todd had been in there, I'm sure Freddie would've licked his lips at the Colombian getting a stern examination ahead of their impending title tie.  Mind you, Freddie still insists he's not been cleared to compete, but will be prepared for Pride.  Do you think he might be lying?

    As soon as Ali pulled off his customary front flip over the top rope entrance, Donny moved a few paces forward and threw a right that Amore blocked with ease.  Poor Brent Williams didn't even get to introduce either participant and fled like a getaway driver.  Anyway, not only did the Keystone champion defend, he attacked too, unloading with three rights of his own, putting Donny on the backfoot and up against the ropes.  Wait, he wasn't there much longer...

    Clothesline and a 360 landing of his own for Donny!  With the wonderful energy being fed to him, Amore posed for the audience to great applause, climbing onto the second rope.

    Or was it a decoy?


    Young Rich didn't know where he was right now, and that wasn't helped by another brace of blows bestowed on his forehead by the former World titleholder.

    Rich was rolled back in.  Amore re-entered with significantly more style:  A Slingshot Legdrop.



    Donny wasn't done - yet.

    He most definitely was on Dream Street.  However, at least he was up to his feet and retreated to the corner in the top left-hand side of the squared circle, seeking to put a bit of distance between him and his more experienced opponent.  It worked and Donny struck Amore with a boot as the Superstar of Bogota cornered him.  The second one, by contrast, was caught effortlessly.  Rich begged Ali, who responded by tripping him and scoring with another Legdrop, one of a standard variety, yielding the same result as before:  Otros dos.

    Ali applied a simple Side Headlock.  Curiously, we're not sure why because Amore didn't need to rest nor wear Donny down  and he's not the type to rub it in.  Donny couldn't muster enough to escape this most elementary of moves and the Colombian cashed in with a Bulldog!  Beautifully done, though enhanced by the ordinary opposition in front of him.

    Backstage, big brother Freddie was lamenting his youngest sibling's showing.  Beside him, Todd told Freddie to go out and support the hapless pup.  Pondering it for a moment, Fred stated 'fuck it' and slammed the door shut.  He was coming out here to guide the clueless combatant.

    Meanwhile, Ali picked Donny up and rained in a pair of Uppercuts before completing his neat combination with a sweet Swinging Neckbreaker.  This, in essence, was a sparring session and not providing him with a thorough examination at all - a stark contrast to 'The First.'

    Speaking of which...

    Here, he is.

    BOO!  The head of this Rich generation was its best, most experienced, eldest and yet least popular cog.  Ali didn't spot him until he had vacated the ring and was poised to climb to the summit, perhaps to put Donny out of his misery.  Seeing Freddie confused the Colombian and forced a rethink.

    Instead, Ali returned to inside the ropes and asked the official what Freddie was doing here.  Fred ignored their prying eyes, headed to the far right-hand corner near the commentary desk and urged his sibling to get himself into this contest.

    Doubtlessly distracted, Ali's dominance ceased as Donny whacked him with a wicked Chop.  Looking to make up for lost time, the rookie placed an Arm Wringer on Amore, at least doing something which Alfie Button had neglected last week.  Darren Best, the other half of The Entertainers, lambasted the Londoner for giving the Colombian the night off.  Thus far, Donny had, albeit for different reasons.  Here he was, though, transitioning into a Wristlock and this pushed Amore into the bottom right-hand corner.  Ali's other arm was on the rope, causing the official to call for a break.

    Predictably, Donny didn't observe that correctly, kicking Ali's injured arm twice.  Before he could take his ticking-off, Donny deposited Amore up and over the top rope, via the buckles, given the shocking velocity and force he put behind the Whip.

    Donny took a break as the official began counting the Colombian out.  Rich hovered closely just in case.


    Ali  returned to the ring, but Donny cut him off with a wicked chop and follows up with an Arm Wringer, doing something Darren Best lambasted Alfie Button for not doing, and going back to Amore's injury.  Donny turns it into a Wristlock and forces Amore into the bottom right-hand corner of the ring with Freddie applauding him for it.  There's a break, not observed by Donny, who kicked Amore in the arm twice and whipped him into the opposite corner.


    All of the air in Donny's lungs left when the poor bugger smashed the buckles, sternum-first.  Amore now had the opportunity to head upstairs.  Freddie anticipated this, so he stood up onto the apron...

    DROPKICK BY AMORE sends Freddie off the apron! 

    The official admonished Ali for that impolite gesture; Ali spat, figuratively, he hadn't asked Freddie out here and that it was a case of him or Fred.  It looks like Freddie had to go, and the audience approved!

    Moving past that...


    Fantastic Frogsplash.  Ali didn't even bother to hook the leg...


    ...He didn't have to.  That will rank up there, alongside dismantling Deke, as one of the easiest workouts of his entire career.  He had dispatched two Riches in less than 60 seconds and that was a sweet feeling.  Even still, he wasn't going to push his luck.  He left the ring just as Freddie was starting to stir, nursing an instant headache.  Nonetheless, I suspect his pride had been dented much more.

    Donny, on the other hand, didn't budge and he hadn't put a dent in Ali's armour at all.  Freddie had gone against his gut instinct and been talked out of it by others.

    Perhaps, for once, he was within his rights to be pissed off.

    Poor Donny!


    Shall We Play A Game?


    The EpiCenter II lit up to a familiar bloodsoaked smile.

    "The players have been chosen."

    A selection screen of various wrestlers in NBW filled the screen. Zatch Rollins, Max Hopper, Nemo, Spike Saunders, Freddie Rich, Alyx Norwood, Xiang, Zhalia Fears, Warren Spade, Derecho, Davey La Rue, Matt Haddon, Brock Newbludd, JAC, Ali Amore, and E.Z. Blaze.

    "The selection process was tedious, but simple."

    Boxes started to grey out such as with Amore and Newbludd.

    "The game has begun."

    The selection screen faded away and was replaced by a figure standing in a dark room, alongside another. Both wearing creepy looking masks that seemed to be all the camera caught.

    "We shall give you a hint. The player chosen has spent at least a decade here. Their Championship aspirations and dreams never quite fulfilled. "

    The selection screen showed again.

    "Our turn is complete. It is now your turn. You have two weeks."

    The selection screen remained for a few more seconds before the EpiCenter II went dark.




    Born in China had hit the speakers over the EpiCenter II as the fans in attendance let their imaginations race as to what the Artist of War and his Great Wall would walk out as. As if they didn’t already know, a small crush of disappointment replaced with the standard fare of boos as Xiang and the Wall slipped out of the back, sans costume, and on the way to ringside. With an arrogance he’d call grace and poise, the duo took position in the center of the ring.

    The loudspeakers went soft for only a moment before being picked back up wtih Digging Deep by Jakalope calling for the entrance of Quinlan. But, there was nothing from the back.

    The song kept playing as the perma-smirk on Xiang’s face turned Cheshire. Brent Williams stepped to the center of the ring as the song finally died out.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that Quinlan is not medically cleared to compete,” he confirmed the dirt sheet stories that there must have been a complication with the reported rotator cuff injury. If the people were booing the lack of action, they really hated the next part. “Therefore, the winner of this contest, by forfeit, is the Great Wall.”

    The Wall raised up his massive club as Xiang went about mocking the people in the first few rows. A cameraman traced closer to Xiang, and then in the ultimate display of fireable offenses for any crew member, struck Xiang across the face with his camera.

    As the crowd roared in delight to see Xiang being knocked down on the outside, the cameraman began to peel away his false face. As the bits of latex were tossed aside, it was revealed Xiang’s attacker was Zed, taking his revenge for last Slam’s shady win.

    It took a beat for the Wall to notice his employer had been floored, but once he had, the big man motored as fast as he could to interrupt. Zed took his time to gloat but escape from Wall at the last second. Zed hoped over the railing and into the crowd.

    Wall took a glance to his boss, and then over to Zed trying his best to not let anyone in the crowd touch him. He made the decision to storm after Zed, but was held back by the security that sat ringside. When Wall yelled at him to move in a series of grunts and his native tongue, the guard reeled back to throw a haymaker that actually took the Great Wall to a knee. The guard then made off with Zed cutting to the back as fast as they could. The guard was probably Rune, either without his patterned red mask, or maybe just another mask on top of that mask.

    The legitimate camera crew took its final looks to Xiang and the Great Wall huddled together, seething in anger before we cut away to break.






    Ali Amore had brushed Donny Rich aside earlier, just as most of us had predicted.  This match, though, was a lot tougher to call.  The Entertainers wanted to get at anyone connected to The Rich Family; Button had been battered by them and Best had been prevented from butting in, locked in his own changing room as the pre-planned beating, predominantly designed for Ali Amore, took place.

    Neither Alfie nor Darren had heeded the warning by The Rich Family and the two outfits were now involved, not romantically, but most definitely physically.  Alfie Button's Twitter account was used to fire some warning shots at The Rich Family in return and as a result, this match had been signed.

    They don't want to hang around; who am I to prevent it? 

    Declan and Todd, no shock on that pairing with Freddie still allegedly ruled out due to injury, walked the aisle to some boos.  They didn't have the heat that 'The First' did and were more guilty by association.

    "Weighing in at a combined four hundred and sixty pounds...representing The Rich Family....TODD AND DECLAN RRRRRRICH!!!!"


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

    With a red cap on, a blue and white jacket, accompanied by denim jeans and snazzy red trainers, Best cut a completely different figure to the one we were used to seeing.  The crowd got a kick out of seeing him dressed up as Ash from Pokemon!

    'Let Me Entertain You.'

    Joining Darren, the cocky Cockney, Alfie Button.

    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.  Darren had to do a double-take as the Englishman paid homage to his cape-wearing compatriot - no, not Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Strange.

    Complete with a wand, it was...Alfie Potter!

    "Trick or treat?  Treat for the fans and defeat for you ;)"

    The Entertainers, fresh off a loss to A-List in spite of a sparkling performance at Legacy, were pissed off at The Rich Family for attacking Ali and Alfie.  Don't forget, Eternal Judgment saw an outstanding performance by The Entertainers in the 10 to 1 gauntlet, only for The Rich Family to jump The Unstoppables after the bell and sign themselves in as number one contenders, essentially stealing what many believe would've been The Entertainers' calling otherwise.

    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...

    Talk about jumping the gun...

    While Alfie and Darren were on the second ropes on diagonally opposite sides of the ring, The Rich Family struck.  Less dramatically, Declan dragged Darren down, only to be decked by Best.  On the other side, Todd ensured Alfie took a tumble with a terrific Belly-to-Back Suplex.  Todd then made it a double by defending Declan's honour and cracking Best with a corner, fresh off Darren's early blow.  Todd's handiwork continued with four stiff right-handed shots to Best in The Entertainers' designated corner.

    Normally, The Entertainers were raring to go after completing their entrance.  What they didn't allow for was it being cut short prematurely.

    Oh, wait a second...

    Todd's luck ran out when an attempted Irish Whip was turned into an Arm Wringer and a DDT.  Best then booted the elder Rich out of the ring.

    From the blindside, Declan, who'd wandered back into the fray illegally and had escaped everyone's attentions, double-sledged Dazza in the back and threw him out of the ring to join cousin Todd!  Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.

    Declan, who looked pretty pleased with himself, switched off for a moment.  And, his lights were too...


    If you follow these matches, I don't need to tell you who doled that out.  Alfie then mounted the second rope to pose, albeit Darren's at the outset, properly  and gained a great reception as a result.  Just as he climbed down, he and Declan were deemed the legal men.

    With Best and Todd, surprisingly staying apart from one another and now returning to their respective corners, all focus was on the action in the battleground.  Right now, Alfie was large and in charge...


    As per, the fans chanted as the Englishman dished out a pair of European Uppercuts, forcing Declan up against the ropes.  A whip sent Declan into the eastern set of ropes, The Entertainers' half of the ring.  A Leapfrog for the sake of it, or at least that's how it seems, was a smokescreen for a cheeky Mule Kick to exploit the youngster's inexperience; a far cry from when Alfie suffered at Ali Amore's hands in their recent Keystone clash.

    Mule Kick...


    Alfie is an equal opportunities employer - he's given each member of the opposing outfit a free Superkick for turning up.

    Todd interrupted the subsequent cover just prior to two.  Button berated the odd one out among the Riches (the others are all brothers) Declan used the distraction to chance his arm with a sneak Roll-up and gained a two.

    Alfie's denial, a kick, directed Declan towards Todd and while there, a tag was exchanged.  Therefore, Todd's entrance took Alfie by surprise and the biggest man in the match steamrollered the quickest competitor.

    Not hanging around, Todd sent Alfie to the top right-hand side of the ring with authority and nailed him with another Lariat.  With Alfie where he wanted him, Todd unleashed a couple of stinging, echoing Knife-Edges and then took a step back to admire his handiwork, smiling at the anguish etched on the brash Briton's bracket.

    However, he took too long and when you do that, then I don't...


    Two excellent European Uppercuts terminated Todd's advantage in a hurry.

    A knee took it back and the crowd out of it, just as they were generating noise.  Oh, you love a hope spot. A couple of spiteful punches to the left side of Alfie's noggin cemented Todd's lead again.

    An Irish Whip on the Englishman - Todd telegraphed the Clothesline that time, hitting the buckles.

    Boy, did Alfie explode back into life to get the spectators on side...


    The gorgeous Kip-Up Hurricanrana was flawlessly executed and the Londoner decided it was high time to tag out to Darren.

    Isn't this perfect for Best?  Todd's arm, clearly hanging after his failed Lariat, was an immediate target for Darren, a grappler renowned for picking that particular part of the body apart.  Unsurprisingly, the straight man of The Entertainers didn't mess about, getting off a Single Arm DDT to complement the standard DDT in the early stages.  Todd had felt both!!

    No wasted motion from Best, who'd torn into his other half for not seizing Ali Amore's injured arm a month or so ago.  Darren was going to give the Englishman the opportunity to right that wrong  as Best held Todd's arm out.

    Alfie headed to the top...

    Needless, but easy on the eye and also effective (not efficient.)

    Shooting Star Axe-Handle to the arm!

    Darren hadn't tagged out and patted his partner on the back before taking Todd down with an Armdrag and placing him in an Armbar.  Was it a resthold or a wear-down one?  Either way, it was easier on The Entertainers.  Todd rebuffed the referee's queries about quitting.

    When Todd got to his feet, Darren kept the Armbar intact and steered Todd into the right-hand set of ropes before whipping Rich into the opposite ones.  It was the right call, not done prematurely, with Darren delivering a superb Dropkick right on the point of Todd's arm.  The ensuing cover extracted 2.

    As Todd sat up, the Armbar brought him down again.  In fact, Darren dragged the cousin closer to Alfie, tagging the speedster in.

    A whip by Alfie, which saw Todd hurtle towards his own corner, was a set-up for his Hesitation Dropkick, otherwise known as a Commercial Break.  Unfortunately for The Entertainers, it was also the break The Rich Family needed.  Declan tagged Todd by touching him on top of the head and pulled straight into Alfie's allocated parking space, surprisingly beating the electric Englishman to the punch with a Dropkick!  Yes, that phrase was intended to read that way.  Beer's not my cup of tea either.

    Declan drove Alfie's face into BOTH of his knees.



    Only 2.

    Would a beautiful Bridging Northern Lights Suplex gain any headway?

    Let's find out.  Beautifully-done by Declan, who is the most overlooked yet potentially most talented member of the quartet...



    2 and a half that time.

    Declan's joy was short-lived.  Button threw two spanners into the works, punches to the breadbasket.  In retaliation, Declan sluggishly aimed a kick at the Brit's abdomen, only for Button to catch it...

    And an Enzuigiri gave Declan the initiative again!

    However, he threw it away by deploying a Figure Four that the ultra-quick Cockney countered with an Inside cradle...




    Declan made a mockery of my previous statement, once again reacting more rapidly than Alfie and he made the TV wannabee pay with an excellent Heel Kick to scramble Button's equilibrium all the more.

    And if that weren't enough...

    A Brainbuster would be!



    Darren reacted this time, interjecting himself just in case the cat-like reflexes of Alfie had been dimmed.  While the official ensured Darren departed, Declan didn't waste any time dragging Alfie over for a spot of double-teaming comprising of punches in bunches.

    After the referee turned round, Declan tagged Todd in, who had returned literally a second following his exit.

    Cousin Todd stuck the boots to Button.  They were a simple prelude to a Jumping DDT and another 2-count.

    Clasping the Cockey's waist, Todd bounced the Briton off the rope gently with a Slingshot Belly-to-Back, similar to how the two of these had kicked the clash off originally.

    For some reason, Todd neglected to pin Alfie and brought Declan in instead.  The youngest member of the match waited and waited, timing it perfectly so he could enter in style with a fabulous Springboard Missile Dropkick.  The only drawback was that it launched Alfie closer to The Entertainers' corner, making it easier for Darren to step in and stop Declan's attempt once he draped his weight across Button's chest.  Declan's complaint, in addition to the official's, fell on deaf ears.

    Declan's Inverted Suplex Slam attempt went awry.  He pulled off the Dragon Sleeper stage, though went no further when his Cockney counterpart caused separation in the way of two desperate kicks, laying the foundation for an outstanding Overhead Kick...

    Match of the Day!

    Could Alfie make the tag?

    Just as Declan regained his senses...

    It was too late.


    Declan was mowed down by a lovely Lariat by the incoming Best.  Just as Todd came through the ropes, Darren squashed him with a Corner Splash!  A handful of multiple Knife-Edges with Todd's name etched on them and they still didn't mean Darren neglected the cousin's arm, which was given the proper affection and love it deserved with a duet of boots to the aching limb.

    A shout from the crowd gave Darren a heads-up and he heeded the warning, turning around in time to keel Declan over with another punt to the pectoral area and finishing the sequence off with a Fireman's Carry Gutbuster!  Declan's open-mouthed reaction wasn't one of admiration, I assure you.

    Like Declan hadn't suffered enough...

    Darren stood him up and shoved him towards Alfie for a scintillating SUPERKICK!!!

    The Entertainers joined forces to unleash a Double Clothesline that led to Todd careering out of the spotlight and to the arena floor.

    Alfie's gestured for the audience to pay attention to Best, who hooked young Declan in the South-East area, The Entertainers' part of town...


    The Wrist-Clutch Exploder on Declan, coupled with Todd's presence on the opposite side of the ring, led to a POP from our capacity crowd. 

    As Darren hooked Declan's leg, they counted along...




    In what had been a disastrous double defeat for The Rich Family, Freddie was caught cursing the backstage cameras as he saw Declan and Todd improve on Donny's showing against Ali earlier, yet ultimately end up with another loss on their record.

    "TWO DEFEATS!  Am I the only guy in this family who can do anything anymore?  These guys are a disgrace to the Rich name!  Fuck me, guys!  Donny...you're a disgrace.  I don't care if you're my brother or not," he said, folding his chair up and slamming it off the wall.

    Pacing the floor with his hands on hips, Freddie shouted 'FUCK'  at the top of his voice:  "Dec, Todd, come on guys!  We're dragging this proud name through the mud.  Next week, we get this shit done.  Ali, Alfie and Darren...rematch next week.  Six-man.  The three of you against my three and with me guiding these guys, we'll get this shit done once and for all."

    Basking in their victory, Best and Button wouldn't have heard Freddie's request.  They'd no doubt take him up on it.  For the moment, they posed on respective turnbuckles, pleased to have gained revenge to an extent and an overdue victory to go along with it.  However, these two feuds - Ali v Freddie and The Entertainers v The Rich Family - which had started in one segment on Slam 83, was far from over.  The 6-man next week, should everyone agree, would up the ante more en route to Pride.

    For now, there was no PRIDE within The Rich Family.




    It always ends up like this, doesn't it?


    As we come back from commercial break, we see Trent McKnight standing near the mid-point of the ropes in the ring.  A table adorned with a red cloth is laid out before him with two comfy-looking black leather office chairs on either side.  On the table is a contract for the NBW World Heavyweight Championship match between Warren Spade and Derecho.  All that was left was for these two men to sign on the dotted line and make it official!

    “Ladies and Gentlemen… Warren Spade and Derecho have been on a collision course and at NBW Pride, Derecho is set to defend the NBW World Heavyweight Championship against Warren Spade.”

    The crowd cheered that.

    “Before we get to Pride, we need to make this official.  So at this time, I would like to call the participants down to the ring in order to sign the contract!”

    McKnight took a brief pause before continuing on.

    “Up first, he is YOUR NBW World….” At this point, this is where the crowd began to boo wildly, almost drowning out McKnight “....Heavyweight Champion…. DERECHO!”

    The lights in the arena dimmed.

    “I am….”

    “....I am”

    “Charisma” by WASP

    The music hit… the spotlight shone down on the top of the entrance ramp and there stood…. Nobody?

    Typically, this is where Derecho would be standing with his back to the crowd, waiting for his lyrical cue to turn around and march down to the ring, but the spotlight hit the stage and Derecho wasn’t there.  The song continued playing for a few moments and the crowd looked around, wondering if he was going to appear from another location, but there was still no sign of the world champion.

    A few more short moments passed and the song went off and the arena returned to normal.  Trent McKnight was holding his ear as if he were trying to hear a message being relayed to him from the back.  McKnight nodded his head and then brought the microphone back up to his lips.

    “Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ve been told that Derecho feels that coming out first is an insult to him as NBW World Heavyweight Champion.  He is demanding that Warren Spade come out here and watch him make his, quote/unquote, glorious entrance to the ring.”

    The people booed heavily as McKnight sighed.

    “With that being said… allow me to introduce to you… the challenger and number one contender to the NBW World Heavyweight Championship…. WARREN SPADE!”

    Unlike his opponent for Pride, there is no wait.

    The crowd was baited with anticipation and when words appeared on the EpiCenter they went crazy.


    OF THE


    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 the crowd cheered him.

    Spade let Fenton off on the apron and then he himself jumped on the apron! He pushed the ropes down and the seven footer stepped over them to enter the ring. The large fan favorite surveyed the arena before flipping up his shirt to reveal the new Warren Spade “RAGE FACE” that had become all the rage. He had his fun playing Spike Saunders for Halloween tonight, but this was serious business they were dealing with now.

    “Warren Spade ... “ said Trent. “Thank you coming to the ring.”

    Fenton Woods waited for a moment and then brought out his own microphone … a new one that was actually attached to his cane!

    “Thank you kindly for that introduction, Mr. McKnight, but I’ll be taking over from here. We’ve got a party to get back to so we’re going to make this short and sweet for the so called ‘King of Hell.’”

    Warren Spade had his arms folded and let his manager say a few words on his behalf.

    “Derecho, for the last two shows, you’ve tried to get the drop on my monster because you know that face to face, there is no man on this roster that can compare! And for the last two shows, you’ve learned that despite the impressive body count you’ve racked up to get to the top, you’ve screwed with the one man that can destroy you any time he wants!”

    Warren grinned.

    “With respect to the beasts Warren has fought in the last few months, none of them could stop him on his quest to the top. The Great Wall, Rune, and even former world champions like Spike Saunders and Vic Gravender could not stop him. My giant is focused on only one thing now and that is ripping the NBW World championship right from your hands and cementing his place as the best big man that has ever set foot in this ring!”

    “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!”Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap.  “STAMPEDE!” Clap Clap. 

    The “Stampede” chants were loud and proud from the NBW fans tonight! Warren motioned for Trent McKnight’s microphone and made his point.

    “I can’t blame him for not wanting to come out here, Fenton,” said Warren. “The last time he came face to face with me, I dropped his ass through the announce table. He’s probably back there wetting his panties because he knows I’d put his ass through this table.” he said, patting the table the contract was on. “I’m done talking if he’s not going to show up. Give me that contract.”

    Warren exchanged Trent’s microphone for the match contract. He took the pen and signed it quickly then dropped it back on the table.

    “Fenton, let’s go.”

    Warren Spade made his way to the ropes.  Fenton, being the good manager that he is, let Warren step out of the ring first.  As Fenton was about to step out, a masked individual hopped the guardrail and swept Warren Spade’s legs right out from under him, causing him to land back first on the ring apron!!

    “OOHH!!!” moaned the crowd!

    The crowd instantly booed as this masked individual put the boots to Warren Spade’s back, adding further damage and pain! The masked man was smaller than Warren, but tall enough to give him problems and continued to stomp away on the Monster of the Mid-South. After a few moments when he was sure Warren was incapacitated enough, the masked individual pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped one end onto Spade’s wrist and the other end to the guard rail.

    The people booed as the masked man took a step back and looked into the ring at Fenton Woods.  Woods began to back away from the ropes as the masked man edged closer to the ring.  Just then…


    From behind, Derecho leveled Fenton Woods! 

    Derecho had come into the ring from the opposite side of the crowd!  Many thought that this masked individual was Derecho himself, but that wasn’t the case!  Derecho grabbed Fenton Woods and pulled him up to his feet. Warren Spade looked into the ring and began to struggle to break free from the handcuffs.  Spade was absolutely furious, but powerless as he was forced to sit there and watch.

    Derecho grinned as he hoisted Fenton up onto his shoulder.  Spade sprung to his feet and used all his might to pull at the handcuffs, trying to snap the chain, but the cuffs refused to break.  Derecho looked right at Spade and…


    Derecho dropped Fenton Woods dead center in the middle of the ring. Spade became even more enraged as Derecho stood up, cracking another grin in Spade’s direction.  Derecho backpeddled out of the ring and exited, joining the masked man.  The two of them walked away from the ring and up the ramp and Spade had finally broken free from the cuffs, snapping the chain on them.

    “FENTON!!!” screamed Warren.

    Spade quickly limped back into the ring to check on Fenton before standing up and shooting a death glare in the direction of Derecho and the masked man.  Derecho and the masked man turned one last time at the top of the ramp, staring down at Warren Spade who paced back and forth and dared the two of them to get down to the ring.

    Neither obliged and made their exit as Spade went back to checking on Fenton Woods.

    “Get him some help. NOW!” yelled Spade at Trent, who remained in the corner petrified over all that had just transpired.






    “It’s time now for the next match in our tournament to crown a Keystone Championship contender.” Melissa van der Art announced.

    “And the hopefully exciting debut of Matt Meyhu!” responded C.G. Gaines.

    “La… La, La La… Wait till I get my money right.”

    ‘Can’t Tell Me Nothing’ hit the speakers and ‘The Marvel’ Matt Meyhu stepped out onto the ramp, ready to make his NBW debut. As he walked down the ramp, with green lights flashing along the way, he dodged and faked fans, earning several thumbs down. Equipped with a signature smirk, he leapt up onto the ring apron where he paused for a moment before climbing through the ropes.

    “From Chicago, Illinois… Weighing 240 pounds. He is ‘The Marvel!’ MATT MEYHU!”

    Meyhu shot a confident nod toward ring announcer ring announcer Brent Williams.

    ‘Hero’ by Skillet hit the speakers, which caused the fans to cheer.

    "And his opponent, at two hundred and seventy pounds. He is 'The Founding Father'... MATT HADDON!"

    Matt Haddon stepped out onto the ramp and began to head down the aisle, dressed in a hockey mask and torn short and shirt. Unlike his opponent, Haddon embraced the fans cheering him on. He climbed the steps and through the ropes where he faced his opponent.

    The bell rang and both men met in the middle of the ring. Without hesitation, Meyhu turned a brief lockup into a knee to the gut that doubled Haddon over. Meyhu managed to quickly lock in an arm bar. After a few seconds of squirming to break free, Haddon connected with an elbow to the jaw of Meyhu. The hold was released. Haddon hit the ropes with a head of steam. As he returned to the center of the ring, Meyhu’s shoulder connected hard in the center of his chest. Haddon crashed to the mat hard as Meyhu stood over him.

    A knee drop connected next. Haddon sat up following the impact, holding his chest. This put him in perfect position for Meyhu to wrap him up in a chinlock. The ref crouched down to check on Haddon, who refused to quit. He rolled onto his side and forced his way up to his knees. After pushing up to his feet, Haddon backed Meyhu into the ropes and sent him across the ring. Meyhu hit the ropes and rebounded toward Haddon before ducking under a clothesline attempt. Meyhu hit the ropes once more and returned with a lariat of his own that removed Haddon from his feet. Meyhu dove on top of Haddon for the cover.




    Haddon got the shoulder up with plenty of time to spare. Meyhu returned to his feet and waited for Haddon to the do the same. Haddon turned around right into an uppercut that knocked him back into the corner. Meyhu grabbed his opponent by the wrist and whipped him across to the opposite corner. He ran in after Haddon and connected with a corner clothesline. He wasted little time in sending Haddon back into the opposite corner and repeating the process. The second clothesline connected. Meyhu signaled for one more. As Haddon crashed into the corner for a third time, he lifted his left foot up into the air. Meyhu smacked face first into his boot and staggered back toward the middle of the ring.

    Haddon dropped to one knee in the corner to catch his breath as Meyhu checked his own jaw. Meyhu snapped back into it and charged at the downed Haddon. Haddon rolled out of the way and Meyhu hit the corner hard. Again, he staggered backwards. This time, Haddon got behind Meyhu and lifted him up onto his shoulder before driving him into the mat with a back suplex. Haddon hooked the leg.




    The fans sensed the shifting in momentum and began to cheer. Meyhu scrambled to his feet but took a big chop to the chest that stopped him in his tracks. The second chop echoed throughout the arena and produced a groan from the Marvel. Haddon feigned a third chop before instead drilling Meyhu with a hard right hand, much to the crowd’s approval. Meyhu stumbled back into the ropes, where he used the top rope to keep himself up. Haddon ran back off the ropes and looked to send Meyhu tumbling to the floor. However, Meyhu beat him to the punch. He retreated through the ropes and onto the floor to regain his composure.



    The referee began to count Meyhu out.



    The fans began to boo Meyhu as he shook his head at them and walked a lap around the ring.



    He placed one knee on the apron and attempted to climb back into the ring. Haddon lunged toward him and he hopped back down to the floor. Still holding the top rope and towering over his cowering opponent, Haddon looked around at the crowd. He shouldn’t have taken his eyes off Meyhu, though. Meyhu hopped up again and grabbed Haddon by the neck, dropping him across the top rope. Haddon falls to the mat holding his throat as Meyhu reenters the ring.

    Haddon managed to pull himself up off the mat before Meyhu could take advantage, but turned around right into a boot to the mid section. Meyhu grabbed him by the head and hoisted him up into the air for a vertical suplex. Picture perfect. Meyhu rolled over with Haddon still in his grasp and performed a second one, this time stalling a bit before driving his opponent hard into the mat. He returned to his feet with his hands in the air, only to be showered with disapproval by the audience. Meyhu shrugged it off before grabbing Haddon by the head and raising him back to his feet. He draped his arm over the head of Haddon and held up one finger, letting the fans know one more was on it’s way. Meyhu was met with a little resistance before being pulled to the mat in a small package.




    Both men exploded out of the hold. Haddon shot to his feet as the collective sigh is released by the crowd. Meyhu rested on his knees with a smirk on his face as he shook his head. He returned to his feet and the two men locked horns in the middle of the ring again. This time, it was Haddon who won the exchange with a wristlock that sent Meyhu down to a knee. Meyhu’s attempts to break free ended in failure as he ended up on his back after a swift kick to the chest. The crowd cheered on Haddon as he invited Meyhu to get up. Now slightly red in the face, Meyhu stood back up and charged Haddon, but again came up empty. Haddon tripped his opponent up with a drop toe hold and quickly turned it into a single leg boston crab.

    The fans began to encourage Meyhu to give up as the ref crouched down to check on him. After shaking off the ref, Meyhu began to crawl toward the ropes as Haddon attempted to apply extra pressure. Leaning back, Haddon managed to put a stop to Meyhu’s movement momentarily. Again, he shook off the ref and lunged for the bottom rope. His fingers wrapped around the rope in a firm grip.





    Haddon finally released the hold and looked on as Meyhu used all three ropes to help pull himself up. Haddon marched up to his opponent, who leaned through the ropes in defense. The ref put a stop to Haddon’s progress. With his attention on the man in stripes, Haddon got clocked by a right hand from Meyhu. After a quick kick to the gut, Meyhu managed to plant Haddon with a DDT. He rolled him over and covered him.




    Not enough. Haddon barely managed to pry his right shoulder off the mat. Now back in control, Meyhu showed his athleticism by leaping into the air and connecting with an elbow drop right to the chest. He returned to his feet with another smile on his face as Haddon did his best to get back up. Before he is even back to his feet completely, Haddon is grabbed by the head and drug to the corner. Meyhu drove Haddon head first into the top turnbuckle. Haddon rested in the corner with his arms draped over the ropes before receiving a back elbow. Meyhu continued to apply pressure under the chin until the ref finally pulled him off. He backed off with his hands in the air.

    Haddon took a few deep breaths before Meyhu was right back on top of him again. Meyhu looked to send Haddon into the opposite corner. Haddon managed to turn it around though! Meyhu was then sent crashing into the corner Haddon was just sitting in. A smile came over Haddon’s face before he began to shop Meyhu repeatedly, leaving his chest bright red. An irish whip then sent Meyhu crashing into the other corner. Haddon took a moment before charging in shoulder first for Meyhu. Nobody home! Haddon’s shoulder connected hard with the ring post. He staggered out of the corner holding his shoulder and turned around right into a superkick from Meyhu! Meyhu went for another cover.




    Haddon once again managed to get his shoulder up at the last possible moment. Meyhu exchanged a few words with the ref before returning to his feet well before his opponent. Haddon finally got up, groggy. He turned around to face Meyhu.

    Ego Trip!

    A flatliner planted Haddon face first into the mat. Meyhu rolled him over and hooked the leg.




    The bell rang, signalling the end of the match.

    “Pretty impressive stuff out of the newcomer!” said Melissa. C.G. was quick to respond.

    “It was a little sloppy, but a savvy victory for Meyhu to kick off his career here. This guy is going places.”

    “To the next round of the tournament, at least.” Melissa was there to finish the thought.

    As “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” played again, Meyhu winked at the fans before slipping through the ropes and heading up the ramp, arms raised in victory.


    Tour for the New Girl


    Opening up backstage we're met with the masked visage of The Second Coming, until she started to speak to the young woman with cat ears next to her, the two walking down the corridor.

    "So glad you got called up Sora." The voice was unmistakable and belonged to one Zhalia Fears, apparently cosplaying as 2C. "It was great fighting alongside you last week in Kansas City."

    "We lost," responded the Asian woman.

    "True," Zhalia smiled, "that happens. But it took both the Hellion Sisters and Michelle to accomplish that. I would say, given my condition as well, that is a rather telling statement."

    Sora Hikari nodded her head. The two passing by a odd-looking guy covered in tattoos that caught their eyes. Enthralled by the conversation on his phone he paid them no mind, despite Fears saying hello.

    "Soon enough MJ will be back in action," she continued on with enthusiasm but dwindled, "hopefully."

    "I replace?" Sora questioned. Her grasp of the english language was small.

    "MJ? No no no." Zhalia grinned and tossed her arm around the neck of Sora, like she often did with anybody and everyone. "For now maybe but do not think of yourself as a replacement or stand-in either, Sora. You got mad skills out there."

    She gauged for a reaction from Sora, however her face remained neutral.

    "Anyhow you will love it here hun. This place has all the eats you could want, with a full cafeteria and a employees only diner in the back. Plus an awesome arcade, with fighting and racing games, plus pool and air hockey, even pinball machines!" She was quite giddy speaking of the arcade. "We also have a pool and spa, and for some reason there is a dojo type room." Upon saying this Sorta's ears perked up, "Although it seems unused. From what I have gathered this Epic II arena was built as a training facility, recreation, management headquarters, and arena itself -- all rolled into one."

    "Where dojo at?"

    "Down this way, I believe it was before the arcades. Should be next up."

    Zhalia sighed as she noticed the door they had just passed in the corridor which read - Fitness Room.

    "Were you sure?" Sora questioned with an upset glare.

    "Well... "


    The room's door flung open behind them, courtesy of Johannes Antonious de Castonovo being smashed into the door by the form of Spike Saunders. What followed was a succession of weights being tossed through the doorway at JAC.

    Saunders charged at JAC, who dodged him and caught him upside across the back with a swift heel kick. JAC rushed at Saunders as he knelt forward, and drove his knee into the temple, sending him to the ground.

    Wasting little time Castonovo grabbed him by the head and hammered down with several blows. Saunders was yanked from the ground with a show of strength resulting in an overhead belly to belly tossing him backward down the corridor.

    Scrambling on all fours Saunders narrowly avoided JAC's rushing knee to his head, and instead swept his legs out from under him. Only to catch him before he fell to the ground, in order to pop him up in the air and strike with a brutal European uppercut. He followed suit with a Big Boot that sent JAC around the corner.

    "What was that?" Sora questioned her guide.

    "Some people take their training too seriously." Zhalia replied with a serious look. "Now as for that Arcade. I believe it is a left up here."

    "Dojo. No arcade."

    The two continued on down the corridor as the scene faded out. Destination set for the dojo... or arcade.




    Gravender highlighted his mammoth size by stepping over the top rope and it cost him somewhat as El Principe came out of the blocks with an immediate punch to the head.  Opportunistic, albeit smart:  Spade had dropped Vic on his noggin at the last Slam.  A second blow followed and a third.  Vic shook all of that off with a HEADBUTT, which hurt him just as much as it did Principe!  In fact, the beast stooped to one knee to nurse his newfound migraine.

    The bell rang and Principe, still wobbly, came over only for a massive paw to find its way round his throat.  The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre begged off.  Gravender wasn't forgiving; neither was Principe.  He was also aware of Vic's gammy knee and zeroed in on that with three well-placed boots to bring Gravender  back down to size.

    As Principe brought Gravender back up, Vic socked him on the jaw with a straight right and it almost drove Principe directly to Dream Street for a low taxi fare.  It was a mere set-up as Vic hooked his opposite number's arms and unleashed one of his favourite Suplexes...

    Delayed Double Arm!

    He'd milked the pause, drawing applause.  Very few people in nbW possess this grizzled veteran's strength.

    An Irish Whip sent Principe to the north-west set of buckles with authority.  The attempted Hip Thrust missed!  Principe send Vic back into the corner with a cracking kick to the head, not something he's noted for, and he followed that beauty up with another couple of perfectly-taken penalties.  At this point, Gravender was only being held up by the second rope and Principe changed Larry Tact to stomp away at that well-worn knee on Gravender, who slumped down to the bottom buckle.  Fair play to Principe for doing a number on the 481-pound powerhouse.

    Quite confidently, the Mexican lifted one of Vic's legs up, which must've been an effort in itself, and measured Gravender with a devastating Dragon Screw Leg Whip.

    The Prince wasn't hanging around as he slapped on the Figure Four, known for putting pressure on 7 separate different points of the leg.  That was all good, but Gravender was still fairly close to the ropes and grabbed the middle one before the luchadore could cinch it in really tight.  Of course, Principe didn't release it until the referee's count reached four.

    A Seated Senton, using the ropes as leverage, didn't do Vic's cause any good whatsoever.  Principe then dragged Vic, by the legs, towards the middle of the ring and returned his focus to The Unstoppable's equilibrium, using the ropes again for added momentum...

    Kneedrop to the head.

    Principe wasn't finished...

    He complemented that with a Fist Drop to the forehead!

    And as these things come in threes apparently...

    A Legdrop to boot!

    Nobody could believe this master cheater was having his way with the former nbW World champion and The World Class Badass, Vic Gravender.



    Vic got his shoulder out of there with plenty of time remaining, though he seemed dazed and disoriented. 

    Two Kneedrops caused Gravender to fall back to the mat.  Principe was doing a great job thus far.  Another cover resulted in the same outcome.

    Rather than stay on top of Vic, Principe decided to play funny buggers with the official and question the count.  Ridiculous, really.  In the meantime, Gravender sat up and got to one knee.  Assuming he was still in charge, Principe approached Gravender nonchalantly...


    Vic had stood up and with just one move, he had taken a fair share of oxygen away from the masked man.

    Gravender exacted a bit of revenge with an ENORMOUS Elbow Drop and the fans got a kick out of seeing the spiteful Vic unleash the evergreen Giant Swing, doing four turns before tossing the 230-pound Prince like he was a burger at a barbecue.

    Vic pulled Principe back up by his mask; he wasn't done with him by any stretch of the imagination.  A Scoop Slam threatened to make Principe a permanent part of the canvas.

    Foolishly, Gravender took a risk with a Leg Drop that missed.  Principe, still rocked, managed to stand up and punish Vic with a Dropkick to the point of that knee.
    And, with a twist, Figure Four!  Fortunately for our face, he denied the Mexican again, pounding him with punches until Principe flopped to the floor hopelessly.

    Struggling to get to his feet for various reasons, but doing so nonetheless, Vic held his head before socking Principe with his free left hand...


    He was about to plant Principe with a World Class Bomb Drop; a Spiral Bomb to most of us.

    Here's VIP!

    Price, nearly 25o pounds, broke his personal best for the 100m and stopped Gravender dead in his tracks with a Chopblock!

    VIP adopted a mount position and plastered Gravender with a barrage of hard blows while Principe regained his composure.  The bell rang and Brent announced Vic had sealed the victory via disqualification, though that seemed irrelevant right now.

    Tyson XL was seen backstage, which prompted a brief cheer.  But, he was battling  Brady and Strauss, collectively know as The Law, and they were beginning to get the better of Ty.

    VIP saw this on the EpiCentre and raised his thumbs to El Principe.  Obviously, things were going according to plan.

    Principe re-applied the Figure Four while Price exited the ring to get a steel chair.  Before he did, the interfering official was thrown over the top rope with no regard and plenty of force.

    For once, the Mexican had the Figure 4 Leglock on properly and as Vic, cursing him for it, sat up in defiance, Price knocked him back down with an unprotected chair shot to the top of the head!  They were working his age-old knee injury AND capitalising on Warren Spade's handiwork from our last show.

    Meanwhile, The Law had been joined by three other colleagues to dominate the outnumbered Tyson XL, who as great as he was, couldn't cope with a 5-on-1 attack, especially with strapping geezers like these.  They were all in excess of 6'3 and 240lbs.

    Then, satisfied with his sedation, they all unveiled batons and in a sickening example of police brutality...

    Wait, The Players are here!

    Chameleon waded in on one with a Flying Forearm, but a Baton to the knees immediately restrained him while Sanders' joy with Strauss was short-lived and swiftly stopped by Brady and another.  5-on-3 was still too much.

    Price and Principe had brought Vic, assuming one arm each, over to the bottom right-hand side of the ring.  Firstly, VIP smacked Gravender's knee twice, making a horrendous noise and extracting a tremendous yelp from the heavy-set hard-hitter.

    VIP exited the ring as El Principe started to choke Gravender.  Before getting to the good part, Vic whacked the other Vic's knee into the ringpost and then took a page out of Bret Hart and El Principe's playbook...

    Figure Four around the ringpost!

    Choke by Principe!

    Gravender was really up against this.  The Players and Tyson XL were too.  Chameleon was thrown through a pile of tables by the 6'9 Brady, who is one of those with phenomenal powers.  Sanders was beaten with a baton by one of the random officers and Strauss led a 3-pronged baton attack.

    "Fuck it," Brady barked.

    Strauss looked up:  "Do you mean...?"

    "Yes, gas them."

    His partner was confused:  "Sure?  We're goin' above and beyond."

    Brady's hands-on-hips stance gave Straus his answer and they used CS Gas to stop the little resistance Tyson XL and Paul Sanders had been giving them with the odd punch here or there.

    With all three down, The Law had quashed the fightback and took off in their van.  Like The Rich Family, I strongly suspect they'd have to watch their backs on two fronts.  It might've been safer to continue working with the Riches, but A-List were the ones obviously brandishing the cash and this pre-meditated mission had worked wonderfully well.  Hopefully, the hired help will have been paid enough.

    In conclusion, and Vic was barely conscious at this point, Price let go and allowed Principe to get his dues with a Guerrilla Clutch around the ringpost!  When Gravender inevitably passed out, Principe got up and raising their arms in celebration, A-List were booed to fuck as they walked off, proud of themselves.

    FINALLY, officials ran out.  Where the fuck have they been? At last!  An ambulance was also on with a stretcher big enough for the 381-pound Gravender.

    A-List and The Law's superior numbers, 7 v 4, had wasted The Unstoppables and The Players.

    They may not have stopped The Unstoppables...

    But, they had definitely shut them down for tonight at least.




    Trick or Real


    Several schoolchildren all dressed up as witches, ghosts and one as Frankenstein were enjoying a happy Halloween.  Then, they knocked on this man's door.

    They all shouted enthusiastically as the door creaked open:  "Trick or treat?"

    The 6'6 rotund, strawberry-topped guy put his hands on his hips and moaned:  "Do any of you actually want a trick?  Really?"

    They replied with the question again rather than answer his.  So, he said:  "Okay, I know you all want treats," he said, pulling out a box of ready-made candies, chocolates and lollipops.  He held his hand up for a moment, whispering he had more as he gently closed the door...

    Only to open up again with a scary clown mask and sharp teeth:  "TRICK!"

    All of the kids scurried away, dropping the vast contents of their basket as they fled.  Removing the mask and retrieving most of the sweets, presumably to do it again to anyone unfortunate enough to bother him later, our welcoming house owner reminded us:  "My name's Chris Smith and I'm keepin' it real...for the kids."


    That kid from 4CW


    Backstage once more, this time with Adria Hoyt as she stood next to a face soon to be seen again in the Main Event.

    "Joining me at this time is one of the two men competing tonight in our Main Event to determine who will go to PRIDE and face Brock Newbludd for the Blitzkrieg championship." The camera pulled back to show Ravage, in his singlet ready to compete. "Thank you for joining me Ravage. Later tonight you and 'Big' Rick Strongbern will be fighting for that very spot."

    "I heard what Rick had to say. He's determined to take hit shot again. At Scorched he was beat."

    "At Legacy however you were knocked off the Laddervault which gave Brock the time to secure the championship title."

    "I lost my footing. Have you seen the mess that establishes the roof of that vault?" Ravage glared at Adria, "I won't make excuses though. Brock won. He probably thought I would be off my feet for months, but this isn't the first time I've fallen from that height or from the Laddervault. It hurt like a bitch but I'm ready to fight and tonight I'm going to show Ricky just that."

    "I believe it is just Rick, Ravage."

    "No, it's Ricky Strongbern. I first ran into him when helping train some of the kids years ago in 4CW. His shtick is that he is all tall and mighty like a giant. Good for him. I know giants. Heck one of them happens to be my daughter's favorite uncle-"

    "You have siblings here?"

    "No." Ravage laughed before continuing, "Saunders has been at our home, and invited us to his, more times than I can count over this past decade. She looks up to him, like most kids seem to, and calls him Uncle Spike."

    "He must not like how she's been acting lately then, right?"

    "My daughter is none of your concern Adria. And she's an angel, no matter what Newbludd says." The look on Ravage's face told Adria to drop it. He then walked off set but immediately came back with a t-shirt, that he held up in front of her. "What do you think?"

    "Is that new to the NBW shop?"

    "It's my costume for tonight. After we're done here and I get home we're going trick or treating!" Ravage rolled the shirt up and tucked it under his arm. "Anyhow I've seen all this before. I'm only five foot nine, Adria. That's an inch taller than Ricky. Yet I made it to the top of the mountain without any of this pretending to be who I'm not. Rick is parading around with a former monster in Tremoid, using the 'Little' moniker. It's a joke and a rather bad one."

    "Well I know you don't want to hear this but I've been asked to ask you, Ravage. If you don't win tonight, or if you do but not at Pride, then what will be next for the Savage of the Ring?" Adria cautiously asked.

    "I'm going to Pride and taking the Blitzkrieg Championship back. After that, Derecho's going back on my radar. Or that monstrous sideshow freak Spade. There is no IF here, Adria." Ravage replied before turning and heading off set, "I've got to make a call to my daughter, enjoy the rest of your evening."

    "Well back to you guys I gu-"


    The interview set fell forward towards Adria who quickly skirted aside. What followed were the sounds of the support pipes clanging as they hit the concrete.

    The source?
    Hard to tell as the wall was shaking from heavy impacts on the other side of it.

    With the interview over, Adria off-camera, and nothing else to do the feed cutaway.




    It was now time for the next match pitting two men who were looking to start a new streak of wins. The enigmatic and mega-talented high-flyer EZ Blaze was set to go one on one with a veteran of No Brand Wrestling and one who was looking to follow up with a big win over Ravage some time ago. It would simply be a battle of whichever man wanted it more. The veteran or the high-flyer and that match was coming up next!

    Whitesnake’s “Still of the Night” played first and that heralded the arrival of Alyx Norwood! A man who at one point considered himself wrestling royalty, he came out in his familiar wrestling garb and looked ready for action tonight against the very young and very athletic EZ Blaze. Norwood took in a mixed response from the crowd who looked out and then headed to the ring.

    “This is my time, you hear me?” yelled Norwood.

    The question was rhetorical of course and he didn’t care who heard him or not. He was looking to follow up what was a big victory over Ravage about a month or so ago and parlay that into a win streak here tonight against EZ Blaze. Norwood sat atop the turnbuckle and raised both hands in a diamond pattern before he climbed back into the ring and got himself ready for what was to come.

    “The Angels Among Demons” played for the crowd next and like a bullet, EZ Blaze ran right through the double-doors and pumped his fists for the fans. The NBW fanbase cheered Blaze as the masked man pointed towards the ring and then charged like a crazy person for the ring. He slid underneath the bottom rope and he ran back and forth across the rope multiple times until he came to a stop and rolled forward, pointing to the ringside camera like he meant business. Blaze was showing some personality here tonight and that could serve him well against Norwood tonight.




    The referee known as Slim J was responsible for officiating this contest and after he called for the bell, EZ Blaze approached Alyx Norwood. The five-foot five of frenzy extended a hand for his opponent as a show of good sportsmanship. Norwood took the handshake and the crowd applauded the two men for their show before getting down to the action.

    No, scratch that.

    Norwood planted a boot firmly in the chest of Blaze! Blaze gave up a lot of weight to the two-hundred twenty-pound NBW technician and he followed that boot with an open hand chop to the chest to double Blaze over. EZ could feel the pain burning in his chest and things were worse when he got caught with a straight elbow to the jaw! Already, Blaze was on the proverbial and literal ropes and Alyx knew it too. He zoomed off of the ropes and planned on an attack.

    Blaze was quicker than a hiccup as the kids say and he leaped right over Alyx and scooted off like he had a rocket lodged where the sun didn’t shine. Norwood was quick enough to duck down and let Blaze keep on running. He came right back and planned a backbody drop but Blaze flipped right over and landed on his feet! He rolled backwards and then locked his legs around the head of Norwood before propelling forward and launching him across the ring with a neat head-scissors toss!

    Blaze had the crowd popping with each and every move. Norwood tried to secure himself in the corner when EZ Blaze launched himself at him and landed a drop kick to the side of his face! Blaze ran all the way across the ropes a second time and then he threw himself full speed at Alyx Norwood with a double running knee strike right to his chest. The blow knocked the wind out of Norwood and that’s when Blaze made one jump over the ropes and then right back in with a springboard drop kick! Norwood covered now and went to the corner.

    1 …

    2 …


    Norwood pushed Blaze off of him and tried to shake off the damage that had been dealt. Blaze came out guns … well, blazing tonight and he was about ready to launch another aerial attack when …


    Strutting out from the back was a man who made a very blunt debut two weeks ago by stealing Melissa Vanderart’s headset and proclaiming he was here to change NBW for the better. The blonde man known as Jake Tockwell had another microphone and he was damn sure intent on using it.

    “This flip-shit and this cross-eyed window-licker are boring the crap out of everybody! Nobody wants to see an NBW has-been and a never-was bore these people half to death!”

    Blaze didn’t take kindly to the interruption, but Norwood was more than willing to take advantage of the distraction by grabbing Blaze and slamming him into the ring post!

    “Owwwww!” yelled Jake. “That’ll smart!”

    Norwood then pulled him out of the corner and hooked Blaze into a vertical suplex. He took him over with one but pulled him right up into suplex number two and hooked the leg with a fisherman suplex. With a hook of the leg, Norwood could steal this one!

    1 …

    2 …

    Blaze kicked out!

    “Aw, damn, you almost stopped being zero for the decade, Norwood!” yelled Jake again. “Almost had it there for a minute!”

    “Shut up!” yelled Norwood without a microphone.

    The man nicknamed Big Talk backed off from the ring and watched Norwood bring down elbow after elbow after elbow into the side of the head. EZ Blaze’s mask covered almost his whole face but he was in very clear pain taking the beating he was taking. Norwood continued and then locked the arms of Blaze to throw him up and over with a big snap underhook suplex. Norwood made another cover.

    1 …

    2 …

    Close, but no!

    “Cool, you can do a suplex!” yelled Jake. “Do something good like … I don’t know … win?”

    It seemed Jake Tockwell was dead set on antagonizing wrestlers to get his point across but Norwood was a veteran and he tuned out Big Talk so he could focus on attacking EZ Blaze. The masked wrestler was now close to defeat when he grabbed a leg and pulled him to the middle of the ring to try and STF submission. Blaze surged to life and then slipped around to catch Norwood on the side of the head with a enziguri kick from the ground level!

    “Ouch! See, what did I tell you? Should have stayed on him! God, turn this crap off! I’m sure Hilary and her emails are still more newsworthy than these two!”

    Jake’s verbal attacks continued on the two competitors and the crowd jeered Big Talk for his disrespect of the NBW wrestlers. Norwood was rolled up from behind by Blaze, but instead of a roll-up pin Blaze rolled him through and spun out to deliver another wicked kick to the head of Alyx.

    “Good God almighty end this crap!” yelled Jake. “Put these two out of their misery!”

    Blaze and Norwood were both done indulging him at this point and went back to their match. Tockwell continued watching the match as Blaze struck at Norwood with a few well placed elbows. He ran off of the second rope and came right back with a springboard corkscrew crossbody to knock him down. Blaze stood on him for the cover again.

    1 …

    2 …

    Kickout by Norwood!

    Blaze was on fire now and he was about ready to end things once and for all. He charged at Norwood and then tried to take him down with his signature crucifix driver, but Norwood had the strength advantage and knew where he was in the ring. He grabbed the ropes and shot Blaze away from him. EZ rolled back on his feet and blocked a kick from Norwood before spinning him around and taking him down with a standing shiranui!

    “Oh, crap, look another flip! Shock of all shocks!” yelled Tockwell. “It’s time to pay attention to somebody with a future in NBW!”

    Blaze shut out all the distractions Jake Tockwell was trying to instigate and he pulled Norwood to the closest corned he could get to. He quickly ascended the turnbuckles and raised both arms to the heavens …


    The insanely beautiful double rotation moonsault landed and Blaze covered.

    1 …

    2 …


    EZ Blaze was the victor of a hard fought match and he had his hand raised by the referee. Before the announcement could officially be made …


    Tockwell ran right into the ring and he straight-up clobbered Blaze with a massive lariat that turned him inside out! Big Talk still had the microphone in his left hand and smiled.

    “I’m here to introduce to you the winner of our match … “ he said. “Me for mercy-killing this crap!”

    The booing came out for the big Tennessean.

    “My name is Jake Tockwell and what I say goes! And what I say is this … Norwood, you’re a has-been and Blaze, you’re a never-was! I told No Brand Wrestling last week that I was here to change the game and make some noise. This is me turning up the volume!”

    Norwood was already out of it thanks to the Blaze of Glory from EZ Blaze, but that didn’t stop Jake from picking him up off the ground. While the microphone was still in hand he ran ..

    GIFT OF GAB~!!!

    Another lariat turned Norwood inside out now and after he rolled out of the impact, he was back on his feet.

    “Damn, he delivers a vicious lariat and takes the head off this jamoke! He’s done for!” yelled Tockwell. “See, I can do commentary’s job better than commentary!”

    Melissa Vanderart and C.G. Gains did not like that dig.

    “This is just the start of the things I’m changing for NBW,” said Tockwell. “With this gorgeous body and this even more gorgeous voice, I’m strapping NBW on my back and taking it to the top one week at a time and there ain’t a damn thing anybody can say to prove me otherwise! Big Talk … out!”

    Jake Tockwell did the mic drop and walked past Blaze, but not before delivering another kick to the chest of Blaze! Big Talk walked out of the ring and raised his hands to a growing choir of jeers.


    Outta My Way


    The camera opened up again to the man in the coat that annoyed young stage-hands Mark and Bob just earlier today.

    “Good fuckin’ lord! How fucking far is this stupid locker room?” he asked aloud.

    He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver flask.

    “Oh … fuck right, I took a drink break.”

    “Guy! You see what happened earlier?”

    The man in the coat finally stopped when he was about to knock.

    “Tyson … Tyson … Tyson, I have a great opportunity for you!” he said aloud. He was practicing some sort of sales pitch it seemed.

    “Dude, the Unstoppables got the shit knocked out of them!”

    The man in the coat turned around again and there were Mark and Bob from earlier walking around.

    “Hey!” The man in the coat said. “What? What happened to Tyson? What happened to the Unstoppables?”

    “The A-List and the Law happened to them!” yelled Bob. “They got beat BAD!!! They were checked on by medical.”

    “Damn it …” said the man in the coat. Though the look on his face suggested that this was not entirely bad music to his ears. “I’ll get him next week.”

    The man in the coat walked right past Mark and Bob.

    “Outta my way fucksticks!”


    Who pissed in their Fruitloops?


    Switching over to the commentary table.

    "Folks we're just getting word that the commotion that caused the set to nearly fall on Adria was due to the fighting of Castonovo and Saunders." Vanderart opened with as they came into view.

    "We're told that unfortunately the camera crew has been unable to keep up with the two, in fear of their own well-being given what happened with security earlier tonight. However we do have in-house security camera feeds available and at this time are bringing up the feed from the room on the otherside of that wall, which is the Arcade Room."

    The EpiCenter II lit up to a security camera view of the Arcade. The usuals present such as arcade cabinets, pinball machines, ping pong, and more. There were various objects around the floor and amongst flipped tables and chairs. What was most noticeable however was the pool tables. One currently on it's side, and the other looking like it was drilled into the concrete wall.

    "Look at that warzone!" stated Gains as the footage continued and flipped to an alternative shot of the Arcade. More damage. "That's going to cost them."

    The feed cut-away from the Arcade room and re-opened to the cafeteria area. Likewise, a mess.

    "Just two weeks ago we had an impromptu Blitzkrieg match in that very room, and it looks like we had a repeat tonight!" Added Vanderart as the camera panned left to right and showed the demolished carts and tables. Food was splattered all over the floor, but it didn't look like anybody was actually in there at the moment. Except for one Richie Keal, dressed up like Rip Hunter, currently on his knees wiping up what must have been spilled coffee by the upturned coffee machine next to it. Looking both directions like crossing a street or a kid ready to reach in the cookie jar, Keal winged out the towel into a mug next to his knee..

    The feed cut away again. This time to the loading dock. Immediately in focus were three broken pallets on the ground covered with a red tarp with a newly acquired seven foot three tall hole.

    "HAH! Looks like Saunders got his ass beaten!" Gains gloated off-camera, as the security camera panned further right to shards of glass as Gains cut back in. "We've just been informed that the two are fighting in the parking lot. A camera crew's been dispatched and we'll have that here in a moment!"

    Indeed as the security feed cut out and was replaced by an in motion camera. The walls of the Epic II arena blurring by before a steel door's pushed open and the view comes to a halt on the commotion outside. Several fans and onlookers are scattered about, likely those that didn't pay for tickets this night. Center of them all lays a battered giant, kneeling over him being the former Fighting Zone champion on the bed of a pickup truck.

    Saunders has lacerations everywhere but most evident are the ones on the face and chest which are forming and splitting with each strike from Castonovo. The reason being his fist wrapped in a steel chain which is not-so-gracefully tearing into the flesh. He's getting zero return from the giant, who seems out cold.

    Looking around it would seem that Spike had been sent head first into the car next to the front window. Given the large cracked hole and the shards of glass around on the ground.

    "That's ENOUGH!" The voice belonged to The Doctor, in particular the Eleventh - or the NBW General Manager Jack Harmen. He stood at the outer doors with a swarm of security and officials, pointing at the two. "Pull them apart! Two hours of this and I didn't even get to promote it in advance... "

    Off they went. Capturing JAC's attention. As well as the sleeping giant's, whose eyes popped open, his hands shot to the side of Johannes and flipped him off him backwards, right off the truck to the asphalt.

    Security jumped on JAC, two men putting the knees to the spine to force his arms back and hold him while the others checked on Saunders inside the truck bed. Johannes was dragged away,

    At least that gave Saunders some much needed breathing room while the security and EMTs arriving on the scene checked on him.

    Seconds passed on by while Harmen had JAC escorted slash dragged off the lot.

    "Hey wait!" Came the call from one of the EMTs as they were trying to check on Saunders and he pushed her aside, pulling up from the bed. JAC grinned as the seven foot three colossus charged and stumbled across the lot, attacking Johannes.

    The two went into each other once more. Security personnel surrounding and pulling them apart while they still tossed punches and connected with more than one body.  JAC still had the chain and managed to connect with the ear which sliced it and rang the giant's clock. He wasn't down and out though and fired back at Johannes, grabbing the chain before he hit him again.

    Yanking JAC with the chain, unraveling it and immediately striking with the other hand. Johannes released the chain from his grip, only to get it whipped at him by Saunders. Spike got him across the forehead and JAC immediately backed off, putting distance and bodies, via security, between the two. While Saunders tried to get at him again, he was being held back while Johannes got in a parked Hummer, most likely his own as he turned on the ignition and peeled out of there.

    Harmen walked up to Saunders and waived off the security force.

    "Always choose Treat, rather than Trick, Spike."

    He left him to the EMTs and headed back in the building. After all, still a Main Event left to manage from his office!




    Main Event


    Coming back from the break, the NBW drone zoomed around the arena as costumed fans waved their arms and cheered loudly, before finally coming to a stop to highlight NBW’s dynamic announcing duo of Melissa Vanderart and C.G. Gaines.

    “Well C.G., if you ask me this has been one of the most memorable nights we’ve had here on Slam in a long time, and now we’ve finally come to the main event.” Vanderart said as she adjusted the Cleopatra wig on top of her head before turning to face her broadcast partner.

    “I’d have to say the ‘main event’ has been sitting next to you all night Mel.” Gaines said back in a tone that dripped with arrogance, and Mel rolled her eyes in disgust.

    Slowly leaning back in his chair, C.G. Gaines tried his best to look as cool and confident as the man he was emulating tonight, NBW legend ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs, but failed miserably when his wig slid forward and covered his eyes. Quickly adjusting his wig with a frown, Gaines quickly sat back up in his chair which caused his glued on goatee to fall off his chin and land on the announce table. Letting out a grunt of frustration, the frazzled Gaines quickly snatched the goatee up off the table and slapped it back on his chin.

    Mel couldn’t help but grin at her partner's struggles, especially when Gaines turned to address her and she noticed that he put his goatee back on upside down, giving him a ridiculous looking handlebar goatee.

    “What?” Gaines asked her with a annoyed look covering his face.

    “Oh nothing C.G., sometimes you just remind me to enjoy the little things in life.” Mel explained which confused C.G. even more and Vanderart chuckled as she straightened her notes on her desk. “I was saying that this special episode of Slam has been eventful to say the least, and now we’re on to the last match of the evening, which should be a good one as Big Rick Strongbern and Ravage will do battle to claim the coveted Blitzkrieg number one contender spot.”

    Gaines propped his elbows on the desk and sighed.

    “I’m so torn on this one Mel, it’s going to be watching two of my own children do battle. It’s going to be hard to watch, let alone pick a winner, but somebody has to stop that conniving Newbludd’s sham of a title reign. It’s going to be a real treat watching these two heroes of the squared circle lockup to decide which one will have the honor of taking the Blitzkrieg title off the waist of Newbludd at Pride.

    Leaning back once again in his chair, Gaines rested his hands on his belly and a grin crossed his face.

    “The man is nothing short of a weasel, and I’m counting the days until either Big Rick or Ravage runs him out of town for good after he is crushed at Pride.” he mused gleefully.

    Vanderart simply nodded her head and let out a chuckle.

    “What’s so funny Cleopatra? This is going to be traumatic for me watching Big Rick and Ravage come to blows!” a shocked Gaines exclaimed to her.

    “C.G., I take it you didn’t read any of the notes to prepare for tonight’s show, as usual.” Mel asked and Gaines let out a boastful laugh.

    “Preparation is for rookies! A cagey and charismatic veteran such as myself is at his best calling it like he’s sees it, and how I see it is this... Brock Newbludd days are numbered as Blitzkrieg champion, for one simple reason. He isn’t MAN enough to beat Ravage or Big Rick twice in a PPV title match! Hell, I’m surprised he’s been able to hold on to that belt this long!” Gaines ruefully shot back.

    “Bold words C.G.!” Vanderart commented, and the smug Gaines just folded his arms across his chest as he shrugged.

    “Like I said, I’m just calling it like I see it Ms. Cleo!” Gaines arrogantly replied, as Mel scooted over to get closer to him, while a NBW ring tech slid a third chair over behind the table. Gaines raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything Vanderart put her attention on the camera.

    “Alright fans, we’re about to kick this main event off, and joining us tonight on commentary will be none other than NBW Blitzkrieg Champion, ‘The Innovator’ Brock Newbludd!” an enthusiastic Mel said while Gaines face turned white.

    “What!?” Gaines yelled out in shock as he leaned forward in his chair, and in a moment of perfect timing Newbludd’s music hit the speakers causing the crowd to let out a generous ovation. Grumbling, Gaines just sat back in his chair as the camera cut to the entrance ramp.

    ’Seek and Destroy’ by Metallica

    The camera stayed fixed on the closed double doors underneath the Epicenter screen for a long moment as the Blitzkrieg champion’s music played before another roar from the crowd caused it to cut away and change it’s focus to the rafters of the arena where Brock Newbludd stood on one of the catwalks high above the ring. Clad in his Halloween costume, black tactical gear that was no doubt from his days in the military, Brock raised the Blitzkrieg title to the crowd as a lone spotlight illuminated him in the darkness.

    The crowd buzzed as Brock swung one leg over the railing of the catwalk and then the other to sit on the railing. Looking down to the ring below, Newbludd smiled as he threw his title belt over one shoulder before pushing off the railing with his hands! Several audience members could be heard screaming in shock as Newbludd began his free fall, but that was quickly drowned out by cheers when it was realized that Brock was hooked up to a rappelling rope.

    Descending quickly, Brock used his hands to slow his momentum about halfway down before landing softly on his feet in the middle of the ring. Releasing the rope, Brock quickly removed the rappelling harness and then tied it to the rope. As the rope was being pulled back up to the rafters, Newbludd quickly climbed a turnbuckle to hold the Blitzkrieg championship high above his head.

    Jumping down from the turnbuckle to land on the ring apron, Newbludd then hopped down and walked over to the announce table, bumping fists with a fan wearing a SPARK mask who was sitting directly behind it, before sitting down next to Vanderart and Gaines. Taking his black Kevlar helmet off, Newbludd replaced it with a headset.

    “Welcome Brock, and happy Halloween!” Vanderart said as she shook Newbludd’s hand.

    “Thanks Mel, and you too. Hey C.G., how are you doing man!?” Newbludd sounded genuine and C.G. perked up a bit in surprise.

    “I’m...I’m doing great Brock! Just real excited about this main event, as I’m sure you are too!” an overly friendly Gaines replied and Brock nodded his head in agreement.

    “You got that right Gaines, I can’t wait to find out which one of these two REAL men are going to end my sham of a title reign and run my conniving, weasley ass out of town at Pride…” Newbludd said with a grin as he leaned forward to lock eyes with Gaines who just gulped in response his face white once again.

    With a smile, Brock pulled the headset off of one side of his head and reached up to pull out a small black earpiece out of his ear.

    “The production team had me listen to the live feed so I could time my entrance.” Brock coldly said as he tossed the earpiece to land in front of a shocked C.G.

    “I...I..didn’t mean…” Gaines mumbled out and Newbludd cut him off with a chuckle as he slid his headset back on.

    “Relax Gaines, it’s your job to have an opinion, even if it’s a shitty one. I’m not like some guys, like Davey LaRue for example, who write down in a journal every single bad thing a certain announcer has ever said about him with the intention of someday ripping out each page one by one to shove them down that announcers throat, literally making him eat his own words...no, I’m not like that C.G.” Newbludd told the color man with a wink and a smile.

    Gaines swallowed hard at that thought, because if there was one person he openly criticized more than the Blitzkrieg champion, it was NBW cult hero “Fat Tuesday” Davey LaRue. Looking up to the camera, beads of nervous sweat ran down his face.

    “Right then...let’s send it up to Count Brent Williams!” he managed to croak out and the camera cut away to show Williams, dressed up like Count Dracula, standing in the middle of the ring.

    “Arise children of the night! For it is time for the main event of the evening, and will determine the number one contender for the Blitzkrieg championship!” Williams bellowed out doing his best impression of the Count, as referee Tal Nedrick made his way into the ring to stand beside him.

    “Pyscho” by Psyko Dalek

    The crowd rained down boos as Big Rick and Little Ricky Strongbern made their way through the double sliding doors and onto the stage. It was obvious that Big Rick chose the costumes for the two as he was dressed up as a prison guard, and while Little Ricky wore an orange jumpsuit to be the prisoner. Big Rick stopped at the top of the ramp to spread his arms wide and let out a intimidating roar as he scowling employee stood behind him with his arms crossed.

    “Introducing first, being accompanied by his employee Little Ricky Strongbern! From Pasadena, California, standing at an unconfirmed height of over seven feet tall and weighing in at an alleged three-hundred and seventy five pounds...this is ‘The Biggest Man in Town’...Big Rick Strongbern!”

    “Here comes Big Rick, and as always his employee Little Ricky is with him. The same Little Ricky who viciously attacked you with a chair on the last SLAM.” Melissa pointed out and Brock let out a growl.

    “Yeah, here they come alright. Save my seat Mel, I’m going to go have a word with that big orange idiot Little Ricky. And not a peep from you Gaines, you don’t want to know what I did to the last guy that blew my cover.” Newbludd said and the sound of his headset hitting the table was heard.

    “Yea yea…” C.G. grumbled as the camera showed Brock grabbing the helmet off of the table before crouching low to avoid being spotted by the Strongberns and making his way around the ring. Making it to the ring steps, Brock dropped down to roll underneath the ring.

    You don’t want to know what happened to the last guy...I was in the army blah blah blah…” Gaines whispered in a mocking tone.

    Stomping their way down towards the ring The Strongberns looked as determined as ever, making sure to give any fan who heckled them a menacing glare or a threatening fist. Although they did share a confused with each other as they heard the crowd start to cheer. Spinning around, Big Rick had his fists up thinking that someone was coming down to attack from behind. Not seeing anyone, the paranoid Big Rick signaled for Little Ricky to get in the ring while he slowly walked down the entrance ramp backwards with a wary eye on the double sliding doors.

    Getting up on the ring apron the near seven foot Little Ricky swung one massive leg over the top rope, while on the outside Newbludd rolled back out from under the ring and crouched to see that he had the man who beat him down with a chair on the last Slam right where he wanted him. The roar of the crowd made Little Ricky stop himself from swinging his other leg over the ropes.

    “WATCH OUT YOU DUMMY!” Big Rick screamed as he spun back around to see Brock, with the helmet strapped to his head, now perched on the turnbuckle right next to Little Ricky.

    If Little Ricky would have looked first looked to his right instead of his left, he might have been able to dodge the incoming Newbludd, but unfortunate for him he didn’t and Brock rocked him with a headbutt off the top rope!

    The helmet enhanced head butt caused the big man to sway back and forth as he straddled the ropes. Big Rick charged into save his employee, but Brock waved the helmet at him threateningly and Strongbern stomped on his foot in frustration. Taking the helmet off, Brock clocked Little Ricky in the head with it one more time before clotheslining the knocked out Strongbern back to the outside of the ring to crumple to the ground in front of his boss.

    “Karma’s a bitch Strongbern! Let’s see if you’re a big enough man to win without your lackey!” Newbludd yelled out before rolling out of the opposite side of the ring and making his way back to the announce table.

    “Karma’s a bitch, and so is payback Mel.” Newbludd said after putting the headset back on.

    “That it is Brock, that it is.” Mel agreed, while C.G. remained silent.

    Kicking Little Ricky’s limp form a couple times, Strongbern let out a frustrated roar and rolled into the ring. Popping up to shoot daggers at Newbludd who gave him a friendly wave back.

    “Wanted Man” by Rev Theory

    The cheers of the crowd from Little Ricky’s demise, instantly turned back to boos as ”The Savage of the Ring” Ravage walked through the double doors. Looking all business, the former world champion wasted no time on the stage and immediately made his way down the ramp at a determined pace. Wearing a white t-shirt over his singlet tonight, the camera zoomed in to see that it read  "World's greatest father ... to the world's best little princess.” in plain black print.

    “And his opponent! From South Dakota! Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds...this is ‘The Savage of the Ring’...Ravage!” Williams belted out before exiting the ring.

    Seeing the camera man, Ravage broke his laser focus to grab the camera and pull it in so that the shirt took up the whole screen for a brief second, before roughly pushing the camera aside. Making his way down to the bottom of the ramp, Ravage grinned when he saw Little Ricky laying in a heap in front of him. Looking up to Big Rick, Ravage kept that grin as he lifted Little Ricky up off the ground…


    If Little Ricky wasn’t knocked out completely, Ravage just made sure he was and the former world champion let out a evil laugh as he made his way up to his feet. Inside the ring, Big Rick completely lost it and grabbed referee Nedrick by the shirt.

    “RING THE DAMN BELL!” he screamed out before sprinting towards the ropes and Nedrick obliged.


    The sound of the bell surprised Ravage and he looked up to the ring to see Big Rick already in mid flight towards him…


    Big Rick had never been known as a high flyer, but his rage had pushed him over the edge and the high risk move paid off big time as he leveled Ravage with his signature clothesline!

    “Perfectly executed flying midget line!” Brock exclaimed.

    “It’s called the Strong Arm Lariat, Newbludd! You should know, you’ve eaten a few of those yourself!” C.G. blurted out defiantly, and Brock let out laugh.

    “There we go C.G.! I’m glad you’re back to being yourself! And I sure have, just like you’ve eaten far too much Halloween candy!” Brock gleefully replied and the camera cut over to see him poking Gaines in the belly while he made a farting noise. Mel put a hand up to cover a grin as Gaines face went red with anger.

    Focusing back on the match, Strongbern got back to his feet and gave the downed Ravage a few hard kicks before picking him back up to his feet. Lifting Ravage up, Big Rick showed off his impressive strength by holding Ravage completely vertical for a few long seconds before PLANTING him into the hard floor with a jackhammer! Hooking the leg, Big Rick went for the first cover of the match and Nedrick was right there for the count!




    Strongbern shook his head in frustration as he brought himself and Ravage back to their feet.

    “YOUR ASS IS MINE OLD MAN!” Strongbern screamed right into the woozy Ravage’s face.

    Grabbing the Savage of the Ring by the arm, Strongbern irish whipped him into the barricade and immediately charged in after looking to Ravage a hard running knee. Hitting the barricade hard with his back, Ravage grimaced in pain but got his eyes open just in time to see Strongbern soaring at him, looking to land his knee right in Ravage’s chest. Diving down just in the nick of time, Ravage narrowly avoided Strongbern’s knee and Big Rick yelped in pain as his knee cap hit the barricade!

    Strongbern steadied himself with the barricade while he held his hurt knee up, moving it back forth to get the feeling back in it. Getting to his feet, Ravage saw an opening and seized the opportunity to take advantage by rushing in to slam Strongbern’s head off the barricade before throwing him backwards to hit him with a release german suplex! Strongbern’s body made a loud thud as he landed back first onto the hard ground and the crowd was in a frenzy from the hard hitting opening moments of the match.

    “You’re in this old man’s way!” Ravage yelled as he walked over to the ring steps and pulled the top half of them off.

    Holding the stairs up high as he walked over to Strongbern, the former world champion let out a roar and smashed the steps down hard onto Big Rick’s back causing him to writhe in pain on the floor. Eyes filled with bloodlust, Ravage then brought the steps back up and smashed them down again….

    And again…

    And again!

    Satisfied with his work on Big Rick, Ravage looked over to see two members of the NBW medical staff lift the concussed and bleeding Little Ricky up before draping one of the big man’s arms over each of their shoulders. Still holding the steps, Ravage grinned as he watched the two staff members struggle to walk Little Ricky up the ramp.

    “Oh, this is going to be good!” Newbludd exclaimed as Ravage ran up the ramp.

    “Are you pulling for Ravage, Brock?” Mel asked honestly.

    “Hell no Mel, I’m just enjoying watching these idiots destroy each other!” Newbludd replied just as Ravage reached the three men and SMOKED Little Ricky in the back of the head with the steps!

    The force of the blow along with the weight of Little Ricky falling sent the two staff members down to the ramp as well. Letting out a laugh, Ravage dropped the steps and walked back down the ramp to go back to work on Big Rick, who was trying to pull himself up by the ring apron.

    Reaching Strongbern, Ravage delivered a series of rights and lefts as he tried to pummel Big Rick back to the ground. Dropping back down to one knee, Strongbern was in dire straights as his opponent rained down hard fists, and in desperation threw his arm up between Ravage’s legs to deliver a stiff nut shot!

    “Classic Strongbern, I’m surprised the cagey vet Ravage didn’t have that scouted!” Newbludd said sarcastically as Ravage doubled over in pain and backed away from Strongbern.

    Staggering back to his feet, Strongbern rolled underneath the ropes into the ring and laid on his back for a split second as he tried to shake off some of the pain from Ravage’s assault. With a determined growl Strongbern stood back up to find himself locking eyes with a furious Ravage who was standing on the ring apron. Big Rick telegraphed a forearm to the head, hoping to knock his opponent back to the outside. Ravage predictably saw it coming as he held onto the ropes to lean far back and avoid the blow.

    But unbeknownst to Ravage, Strongbern had purposely telegraphed the forearm and with Ravage leaning far back, Big Rick dropped his other forearm down in a chop to break Ravage’s grip on the ropes, sending him tumbling back down to the floor!

    “Look at Big Rick out smarting the veteran!” C.G. pointed out.

    “Falling off that cage must’ve killed quite a few brain cells, because it takes a really special person to be outsmarted by Strongbern.” Newbludd concluded.

    Watching Ravage crash to the outside, Big Rick rushed over to the turnbuckle and began to climb up, intending to go aerial for the second time in the match. Not known for his high flying abilities, Strongbern reached the top rope and stuck his arms out to balance himself as he began to slowly stand up. Big Rick’s novice navigation of the top rope had him wasting precious moments, and with that an even angrier Ravage managed to get back to his feet.

    “Watching Big Rick climb a turnbuckle is like watching a monkey hump a football…” Newbludd muttered.

    With his eyes down and focused on maintaining his balance, Strongbern was a wide open target as the agile Ravage hopped back up on the apron and ran over to climb the turnbuckle from the outside. Landing a stiff shot to Rick’s gut, Ravage wrapped his arm around Big Rick’s neck...he was looking to suplex him back to the outside!

    What Big Rick lacked in grace, he certainly made up for it and then some in strength. Throwing a fist into Ravage’s side, Strongbern then let out a roar as he wrapped his arms around Ravage before powering him up and leaping off the turnbuckle to plant Ravage in the middle of the ring with a huge TOP ROPE BELLY TO BELLY! Strongbern with the cover!




    “COUNT FASTER! FASTER!” Big Rick screamed in rage at Tal, and the veteran referee just backed away as he emphatically held two fingers up.

    Frustrated, Big Rick began to stand up as he looked down at Ravage but changed his mind halfway up and dropped down to his knees to start violently choking the Savage of the Ring with both hands!

    “THAT BELT WILL BE MINE! YOU HEAR ME OLD MAN!? MIIINEE!!!” Strongbern screamed as he squeezed Ravage’s neck, causing the former world champion to kick his legs violently as he tried to pry Rick’s hands off.

    Taking one hand off of Ravage’s throat, Big Rick rained down a succession of hard punches, while he still squeezed with another. Convinced that he had Ravage subdued, Strongbern relented his brutal attack and rolled out of the ring on the side closest to the announce table. Shooting a crazed glare over to Newbludd, Big Rick then stomped over to the timekeeper’s table and commanded the him to get out of his chair. Not wanting anything to do with the psychotic competitor, the timekeeper quickly hopped up and got out of his way.

    Grabbing the chair and folding it up, Big Rick pointed it at Newbludd menacingly.

    “AFTER I’M DONE WITH THIS TRASH, YOU’RE NEXT BROCK!!” Big Rick screamed at his most hated rival, still pointing the chair at Brock as he walked back towards the ring.

    “Why wait Strongbern! Why don’t you come over here so I can shove that chair up your ass!?” Newbludd yelled back as he stood up with his arms spread wide.

    “Easy Brock...I don’t want that lunatic anywhere near me…” Mel quietly asked Newbludd who didn’t even acknowledge her, his focus completely on the chair wielding Strongbern.

    Big Rick took a threatening step towards Brock before grinning at him and deciding to roll back into the ring.

    “That’s what I thought!” Newbludd yelled out as he sat back down in his chair.

    Back in the ring with chair in hand, Strongbern scrambled back to his feet and whacked Ravage hard across the back of the head with the chair when he saw the Savage of the Ring getting back to his feet.

    Throwing the chair down, Strongbern then grabbed Ravage by the head and brought him back to his feet. Shoving the jelly legged Ravage’s head underneath his arm, Big Rick positioned himself next to the chair before lifting Ravage high in the air, looking to his his patented Head Strong Brainbuster on the chair!

    The crowd was in a frenzy as Strongbern held Ravage up. The roar grew even more as Strongbern began the motion to drive his opponent's head into the chair when out of nowhere Ravage was able to shift his weight and reverse the move so that he landed on top of Strongbern in a cross body, causing Big Rick landed back first onto the chair! Ravage with the cover!




    Ravage rolled off of Strongbern and ran his hands through the back of his head before pulling them away to see that Strongbern had drew first blood with the chair shot. The sight out of his own blood lit a fire under the Savage of the Ring, and he quickly got back up to his feet. Big Rick did the same after he rolled off of the chair to stand toe to toe with Ravage.

    Ravage struck first with a series of hard shots that stunned Big Rick, then he grabbed Strongbern’s arm and fired him into the ropes. Rebounding, Big Rick ducked a clothesline and hit the opposite set of ropes before lowering down looking to hit Ravage with a spear!

    Nope! Ravage with the leapfrog!

    Big Rick managed to keep his balance from the missed spear attempt and hit the ropes once again! Coming back with fury in his eyes, Big Rick saw that Ravage was still spinning around from the leapfrog, and Strongbern saw the opportunity to hit another STRONG ARM LARIAT!

    The only thing that Big Rick hit was the steel chair lying on the mat with his face, as Ravage managed to take him down with a drop toe hold! Rolling over onto his back, Big Rick blinked his eyes as blood ran into them from a gash in his forehead. Pushing himself back up to his feet, Ravage grinned as he saw that he was able to make things even in the bleeding department for the match.

    “Those two better keep their heads on a swivel with all that blood pouring out of them! Who knows how long Count Dracula will be able to contain his hunger!” Newbludd jested and the camera cut over to show Brent Williams cleaning his fake fangs with a pencil eraser as he whistled.

    “The Lord of the Night looks ready to strike at any moment!” Mel replied playing along with Brock.

    “Who cares about Williams!? I don’t know how much longer I can watch these two valiant warriors go at!?” C.G. moaned, obviously upset about seeing two of his favorite wrestlers make each other bleed.

    Back in the ring, Ravage stalked over to Big Rick and lifted Strongbern up to his feet but didn’t stop there and this time it was Ravage who showed his impressive strength as he lifted Big Rick high up with a military press! Seeing the chair below him the groggy Big Rick tried to squirm his way free, but it was too late as Ravage impressively dropped Rick onto his shoulder before driving him down onto the chair with a sick looking Military Press Powerslam onto the chair!

    Standing back up, the audacious Ravage plugged one nostril and sent a snot rocket down onto the laid out Strongbern before spreading his arms wide to soak in some boos.

    “Big Rick is done for! Why isn’t he going for the cover!?” Mel exclaimed.

    “As you can see by his boogering of Big Rick, a legend like Ravage needs to get his grandstanding in. He just can’t win, he needs to win with style, he needs to live up to the myth he’s built up in his head.” Brock answered.

    “Ravage is a legend, Brock! I know it, you know it, and everyone in this building knows it!” C.G. retorted.

    “Maybe he is, but what do you call the man who beat his legendary ass so bad that he had to be carted out on a stretcher, Gaines?” Brock fired back and Gaines had no answer.

    Dropping a quick elbow onto Strongbern, who was still laying on top of the steel chair, Ravage then rushed over to the corner and climbed up to the top rope. Setting his sights in on Strongbern, Ravage gave his downed opponent a double middle finger before leaping off the turnbuckle…

    CANNONBA---NO! Big Rick rolled out of the way!

    A desperate Big Rick kept his dream of being number one contender alive by avoiding Ravage’s patented frog splash at the last moment and Ravage hit nothing but cold steel on impact!

    “Pin his ass Strongbern!” Brock cried out as the building exploded from the turn of events.

    “So, you’re rooting for Big Rick now!?” Mel asked and Brock just laughed.

    “I don’t care who I face at Pride, Mel! But god damn, Big Rick is showing some heart out there tonight!” Newbludd said as he slapped the desk to emphasize his point.

    Staggering to his feet, Big Rick let out a howl as he stood over Ravage before spitting on him, which incited more boos from the crowd.

    “Big Rick showing heart andclass!” Newbludd pointed out.

    Grabbing Ravage by the hair, Strongbern lifted him up and did a dramatic throat slash before slamming Ravage’s head under his arm, looking to finally put him away with the Headstrong Brainbuster! With a grunt, Big Rick started to hoist Ravage up…

    Reversal by Ravage! Small package!

    Somehow Ravage was able to reverse the deadly move and he had Big Rick cinched into the same pinning maneuver that gave Brock the victory the last time he faced Strongbern! Tal dove down for the count!



    Big Rick shifted his weight and rolled, now having Ravage pinned!!!




    The rafters of the Epic II arena were shaking from the near fall as both men staggered back to their feet. Locking eyes, both men let out roars and began trading wild haymakers with each other!

    Ravage with a right!


    Big Rick with a left!


    Kick to the gut by Ravage!


    Uppercut by Big Rick!


    The hard uppercut by Strongbern snapped Ravage’s head back and sent the former world champion stumbling backwards! Looking to seal the deal, Big Rick acted fast and picked the dented chair back off of the ground and charged in, looking to destroy his opponent with a baseball swing!

    Bicycle kick by Ravage!

    The veteran acted on pure instinct and connected with the chair sending it slamming back into Strongbern’s face! Dropping the chair, Big Rick stumbled backwards to awkwardly bounce off the ropes and stagger back towards the waiting Ravage….

    V FOR VICTORY ON TO THE CHAIR!! Rolling over, Ravage strained and threw an arm over Big Rick!




    “Ladies and gentlemen! The winner of this contest, and NEW number one contender for the Blitzkrieg Championship...RAVAGE!!” Williams announced over the frenzied crowd.

    “What a match! Well Brock, it looks like you’re going to have your hands full at Pride when you square off with the former world champion once again!” Mel exclaimed.

    “Ravage better enjoy this moment while it lasts, because come Pride....”

    Suddenly Newbludd was cut off and a loud thud sound was heard.

    “What the hell!? Security! SECURITY!” a shocked Vanderart exclaimed.

    “Holy hell! A fan just attacked Newbludd!” C.G. yelled out as he jumped out of his chair.

    The camera’s focus turned from the ring to the announce table to see Newbludd lying on the ground next to it, and standing over him was the fan wearing the SPARK mask that Brock had fist bumped before the match started.. A confused Newbludd tried to push himself up, but the man in the mask raised a fist high in the air, and in doing so revealed that he held a pair of brass knuckles. Coming down hard with his fist, the masked man connected with the back of Brock’s head, sending him back down to the ground. The camera zoomed in to see that Newbludd had just joined Little Ricky in the land of unconsciousness.

    The crowd went into a frenzy of boos as the man took off the SPARK mask to reveal HMMS de facto leader ’Tantalizing’ Taylor Smith! As he got his hand raised by the referee, Ravage nodded his head approvingly before rolling underneath the ropes to join Smith. Snatching the Blitzkrieg title off the announce table, the Savage of the Ring began whipping the knocked out Newbludd with it before kneeling down to roughly picked Brock’s head up by the hair.

    “Come Pride this belt will belong to me...it will belong to a LEGEND...and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it!” Ravage growled out in between heavy breaths. “Mark my words hero, I don’t intend to just beat you at Pride...I intend to end you...in a LAST MAN STANDING MATCH!”

    With that, Ravage threw the Blitzkrieg title on the ground and picked Newbludd’s limp body up by the arms…


    Getting back to his feet, Ravage high fived his laughing cohort and the two triumphantly walked away from the destroyed Blitzkrieg champion. With the NBW credits crossing the screen, the camera slowly zoomed in on Brock as blood began to run across the Blitzkrieg title and spill onto the floor, before finally fading to darkness..










    Welcome to SLAM - Dusty
    HMMS vs FTW - Dusty
    Green Giant - Undisclosed
    JAC Appreciation Night - Dusty
    Giving Camera Time to Anybody - Undisclosed
    Ali Amore vs Donny Rich - Keegan
    Shall we Play a Game? - Undisclosed
    The Great Wall vs Quinlan - Mitchell
    The Rich Family vs The Entertainers - Keegan
    It Always Ends up like this, Doesn't it? - Josh/Markus
    Matt Meyhu vs Matt Haddon - Brenden
    Tour for the New Girl - Dusty
    Vic Gravender vs El Principe - Keegan
    Trick or Real - Undisclosed
    That kid from 4CW - Dusty
    EZ Blaze vs Alyx Norwood - Markus
    Outta my way - Undiclosed
    Who Pissed in their Fruitloops? - Dusty
    Big Rick Strongbern vs Ravage - Gorman