No Brand Wrestling Presents: SLAM! Episode VII on Hulu.Com!
Live from The Epic II Arena in St. Louis, Missouri
| Previously on the Fighting Zone |
|---|
It was 1963, November to be precise. It was during the time when Giuseppe Di Maggio was getting bigger and bigger in the United States. His businesses were flourishing and he was getting richer by the hour. Meanwhile the Fighting Zone was on a high. It was only a few years earlier when an unknown fighter by the name of Cassius Clay made a dominant five match run in the Fighting Zone. Using the momentum gained with Cassius Clay’s gold medal win in the 1960 Olympics, The Fighting Zone was getting stronger and stronger and more future big names started taking part in the underground.
It was the period of the Kennedy administration. Some of the new laws that John F. Kennedy started to do were affecting Giuseppe Di Maggio’s businesses. But things took a turn to the worse when Giuseppe asked for a meeting at the whitehouse with the President and he was refused such meeting.
This started the domino effect of things that happened next. Early in November 1963, Giuseppe Di Maggio met with a person called Lee Harvey Oswald. During the next two weeks the two had a number of meetings in discreet locations, mostly in the Underground before The Fighting Zone matches.
On November 22nd 1963, President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed at 12.30pm by Lee Harvey Oswald.
After the change of administration some of the laws that were affecting Giuseppe Di Maggio’s business were removed.
Nobody really knows what went on during those meetings between Giuseppe Di Maggio and Lee Harvey Oswald, but the coincidences are quite high not to have a clear view of what really went on during that dreaded month in 1963.
| The. Conclusion. V? |
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"It's the time of reckoning, ladies and gentlemen.
Over the last several months, you all have been involved in various trials of excellence. You've endured a lot. And for some of you, the pay-off is right around the corner. As a man who's dabbled in every corner of this industry, it's never easy to tell who deserves a spot and who needs to try harder.
At the end of the day, NBW is an organisation that is determined to stand out and become a player in the national wrestling scene. Eventually, the hope is that NBW becomes a global phenomenon. That'll take a lot of hard work, which will boil down to the talent available on the roster. A wrestling promotion is only as good as its wrestlers.
Without any further ado, let's get right down to it.
The following three individuals have excelled above everyone else, and will have the pleasure of being personally represented by me:
01. Marian Heller
02. Arturro 'Bulldozer' Benz
03. Raphael
The following individuals have shown enough promise to be given one-year contracts with NBW. Although you won't have the benefit of my day-to-day guidance, I'm sure that you'll all be able to carve out your own niche and succeed within time:
01. 'The Black Death' Rath Sammarino
02. Jupiter
03. Wyman
04. Solex
05. Hoa Linh
06. Carlos Avion
07. Gauzho Supremo Maximus
08. Patrice Priestly
09. Kirk 'Masterpiece' Butler
10. Lana Kazumbo
The rest of you? I'm sorry, you didn't make it.
If you should so be inclined, NBW's developmental promotion -- 4 Corners Wrestling -- would be glad to welcome you with open arms.
If you are already a member of 4CW; keep at it. You'll get there eventually.
Thank you all for your efforts.
Yours,
Biron Sexton"
--
Everybody that was huddled around the notice-board read the letter posted by the super-agent that Thaddeus Boyle had entrusted with bringing new talent into NBW. A few gasped in disappointment at not being named by Sexton. Those that were? Smiles, laughter, and other forms of celebration.
There were three notable exceptions; the first three names listed by Biron. They stood in a corner of the hallway, arms folded and watching on stoically. They already learned of their fates before this night. Each had been separately spoken to by Biron over the course of the last few months. They knew what they had signed up for. Marian, Raphael and Arturro continued to observe as the crowd eventually dispersed upon learning of what the future entailed for each of them.
NBW was about to get a shot in the arm. An injection of new faces.
... Question was, how successful would they end up?
We'll find out, won't we?
| No body's watching, they are now! |
|---|
The ever-familiar voice of the Icon echoed throughout the arena.
 |
 |
 |
| Zed | Versus |
Ampske |
|---|---|---|
| Exhibition Match | ||
The first match of NBW's seventh episode of SLAM! started with one of the competitors already in the ring.
That man would be Zed. He raised his left arm up in the air, acknowledging the fans with a tight smile. He wasn't involved in the 10 To 1 Gauntlet to crown a new NBW World Champion, but Zed didn't mind. His time would come soon.
His adversary? A new signee. A former pit-fighter and bare-knuckled warrior, as annnounced by the ring announcer. Once the introductions were done, Gott Sein by Megaherz started to blare over the speakers.
Out from the back came the debutant, Ampske! Odd name? Of course, he was Danish.
Ampske, with a face littered with scars and cuts, marched down the ramp and eyeballed the fans. This would be Ampske's first match on American soil ever since late 2003. Fun fact for you there. Zed looked on, unimpressed by his opponent. The feeling was mutual; Ampske snorted at the sight of Zed in the ring, adjusting his mask.
This would be fun, Ampske thought to himself. Zed? "This will be an easy win!" he muttered to himself.
Without wasting much time, Ampske reached the bottom of the ramp and slid into the ring, the referee ringing the bell to indicate the start of the match. And without any hesitation, Ampske cracked his knuckles and smiled. Before charging at his opponent.
Zed, being a NBW veteran and in spite of his formerly heelish tendencies, delighted the crowd by ducking and taking down the former pit fighter with a tremendous clothesline. The audience roared loudly again, thrilled that Zed was looking so focused and intensified. However, Ampske's instincts were taking over. Quickly rolling to his side, he raised himself into a push-up position, then swung his legs... nailing Zed with a tremendous legsweep. The latter fell to the mat after a second or so of playing up to the crowd, and that cost him big time.
Zed was soon to find himself experiencing more pain, as Ampske quickly picked his opponent up and connected with a ferocious right hook, that sent the masked man tumbling out of the ring. Smiling, Ampske jumped through the ropes and landed with a double-footed stomp to the spine of Zed, causing the latter to holler out in pain. Early on, the battle was already getting heated.
Ampske slowly got up and picked up the struggling Zed to his feet and knocked him with a flying forearm. He went for another… and another… Nearing the steel steps, Zed knew he was in for big trouble if the vicious shots that he was receiving would go on. He saw Ampske lunge… but he ducked…
DROP TOE HOLD!
The tremendous thud of Ampske's face onto the steel steps was a horrific crack. The fans gasped in horror as they saw the steel steps flying, before they cheered, egging on Zed. Zed snarled and looked at Ampske in anguish as he picked him up by his soft, flattened hair and began to pummel him onto the bottom steel steps…
Again… and again… and again.
Ampske, amazingly, was still not bleeding from these vicious strikes. The pain was truly immense… almost searing to the point of total unconsciousness… but he couldn't lose. There was no way in hell that could happen. At least, he hoped.
With the referee demanding for order to be restored or else (!), Zed finally stopped his relentless assault and picked the limp body of Ampske off into the ring and followed. The fans were at fever pitch now, especially when Zed quickly went for the cover;
ONE!
TWO!
T - NO!
As Zed saw the shoulder of Ampske come up, his eyes showed a feeling of surprise… maybe he had underestimated Ampske a little too much. The masked man then began an onslaught of elbow drops, finally relenting for a brief moment only to bounce off the ropes and into an unreal-esque springboard, only to moonsault back in dazzling fashion!
Fancy moves for a man that was more famous for being a methodical powerhouse. With the fans equal parts surprised and delighted, Zed transitioned into the cover and held on for the pin;
ONE!
TWO!
TH - NO!
Nope, no dice. Once again, Zed looked in surprise almost to an extent of horror. He looked at the top of the arena, wondering what he had to do to keep the fighter down and out. Tonight was his big chance to prove himself, and Zed wasn't going to waste it. He picked up Ampske's lagging body and whipped him to the ropes. Ampske returned sluggishly only to be hit with a terrific looking moonsault dropkick (how was Zed pulling off these moves nobody quite knew). Ampske got up slowly and was hit once again, right on the button, with the same dazzling move. Zed had terrific steam now as he went over to Ampske and jumped over him, bouncing off the ropes and hitting a text book leg drop. He went for the cover;
ONE!
TW - REVERSAL. WHAT?
Yep, you read correctly.
Too sluggish with his pinfall attempt, Zed had too loosely held the legs of Ampske and was not suffering the consequences in a deadly armbar… to no avail for Ampske, Zed had been to close to the ropes and easily reached it with his left foot. However, Ampske could now feel his energy coming back… and that could only mean bad news for Zed.
Ampske slowly got up with the help of the ropes and looked to the side to see Zed charging at him from the other side… Ampske ducked his opponent's intended clothesline, and immediately hit the bouncing and off balance wrestler to his back with a vicious springboard flying knee. Although Ampske was a pure pit-fighter, he used the ropes, which had never been available in the realm in which he fought in, to his advantage. Many a days, he would think about how much he could've humiliated his opponents by using the ropes for more leverage… this was his chance.
Ampske landed hard onto the mat on one foot and felt the electric pain once more. He went over to Zed and kicked him with his in-seam onto the shoulders, trying to weaken it for a crucifix armbar. He quickly fell to the mat on his knees and began to contort Zed's body with an abdominal stretch. However, he could feel his grip slowly loosening… his back was an important strength in performing his many suplexes and submissions, and this one was no exception.
Zed sensed an opportunity… he slowly got up to his knees and reversed the submission with a snap mare takeover followed by his own neck wrench. Holding it for several seconds, he saw a bigger opportunity… he quickly jumped back up to his knees and jumped once more over the body of Ampske, whipping himself off the ropes, coming back and hitting a VILE dropkick straight onto the face. He laughed as he saw Ampske squirming in his pain… then he looked at the top rope…
He climbed up and screamed belatedly… the fans responded, cheering as loudly as they could. Zed jumped high into the night air and landed on Ampske full force with a tremendous elbow drop! Immediately, he went for the cover;
ONE!
TWO!
THR -- Almost.
Zed was amazed, equally with the fans, with Ampske's tenacity. So was BIRON SEXTON as he came down the ramp, sleeves rolled up, watching the match with interest. What was the super-agent up to? I'm sure we'd find out soon enough. Zed went right back to work, largely ignoring Biron Sexton. He picked up Ampske with malicious wishes; first he nailed Ampske with a straight jab and threw him to the ropes. Ampske ducked under the masked man's clothesline attempt and ran against the opposite ropes to come back with a spear that only happened to turn into a huge, flipping DDT.
Heh, wait. No.
Ampske flipped right onto his feet and maintained his posture as he heard Zed's footsteps, amidst all these voices and nailed him in the back with a tremendous heel first straight kick. Zed stumbled to the ropes before turning around and seeing Ampske running at him with full force, knocking him over the top with a huge clothesline.
The fans rose in a huge collective show of disdain, not appreciating the brutality shown by the former pit fighter. This wasn't a feature presentation for TFZ; this was meant to be a wrasslin' match! Yeah, well, tough luck. Ampske grabbed his back in pain, but the adrenaline was overtaking it now… the pain was going away temporarily.
Zed slowly rose to his feet only to see the feet of his opponent come sailing into him, but he moved out of the way just in time and pulled Ampske down onto the mat and then nail him straight in the back with a vicious fist drop. He picked up Ampske and hit him with stiff punch before grabbing Ampske by the arm and throwing him to the ropes. Ampske reversed the whip… but Zed now reversed with his own and gave a vicious knee shot to the gut and slammed Ampske with a flapjack right onto the barricade.
The only thing Zed could do was laugh… and he did. He laughed while he was being cheered on a majority of the fans.
Reaching down, Zed figured he was about one minute away or winning. Give or take.
POW~!
What was that? Oh, just Ampske levelling Zed with an uppercut.
Ampske arose and grinned, delighted at his handiwork. He dragged Zed by the hair and tossed him inside the ring just as the referee's count reached 8. Ampske jumped onto the canvas before stepping up to the top rope, lurching like an eagle for his prey… Zed slowly got up to the concern of the fans and turned around…
Amspke flew for the cross-body block…
Zed saw… and reversed…
FALLAWAY SLAM! FLIPPING BRIDGE!
ONE!
TWO!
ANOTHER REVERSAL! AMAZING! ZED WAS THE ONE BEING PINNED NOW!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
... No! A last-minute kickout! Quite unbelievable.
The fans gasped in amazement that even Zed could come out of a reversal, much less believe how Ampske managed to even reverse a bridge pin into one with his legs pinning Zed's shoulders to the mat. More concerning was Ampske's back… Ampske grimaced with pain getting up and went towards the fallen body of his masked adversary, picking him up and nailing a big forearm shot, sending him stumbling backwards. Ampske pulled forwards, whipping Zed across…
As Zed came back, Ampske extended his arms… as did Zed… the two clashed together and fell onto the mat onto their tired and aching backs. The referee, after a while, had no choice but to start counting;
ONE.
TWO.
THREE.
FOUR.
FIVE.
Signs of life emerged as Zed started to slowly get up, but the exhausted Ampske lied limp on the mat with his arms strewn across.
SIX.
SEVEN.
Zed had finally managed to get onto his feet to see Ampske still lying limp on the mat. He walked over still dazed from the fallaway slam and sluggishly picked up Ampske to his feet.
UPPERCUT PALM STRIKE. Ampske had played possum all along. The fans were furious as Ampske got up to his feet in stunning fashion with a kickflip and then went running towards the corner.
It was coming. What was coming? The train.
...
... Actually, a springboard knee attack.
Zed laid on the opposite turnbuckle, his chin in immense pain, his mind blurred from the outside world. Ampske slapped his knee and brushed against his mat with his right foot, much like a bronco and ran…
He jumped… he springboarded…
REVERSAL. Zed ducked just in time sending Ampske out of position and onto the ropes, now tied between his legs. Ampske howled in pain as he looked at Zed with vicious fury, but all the masked man could do once more was to smile. He made his way up to the adjacent turnbuckle and started to climb onto the ropes, walking across to Ampske howling in pride.
TURNBUCKLE HURRICARANNA! Holy shit.
Ampske fell onto the mat hard as Zed gracefully fell to the floor. He then springboarded once more off the ropes and jumped into the air, landing a picture-perfect Asai moonsault (!) onto the body of Ampske. He landed with tremendous impact and went for the cover;
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
... Denied. Yet again, Ampske kicked out. Zed screamed out in anger, his face no longer the attributed by the confident smile but rather by a vicious snarl. He picked up Ampske and sent him to the ropes and knocked him down with a shoulder barge. He then pointed to the turnbuckle, as his eyes met Sexton's, who had been quietly observing all along. Sexton ignored Zed, instead keeping his eyes peeled to Ampske.
The fans roared as they saw Zed shrug run to the turnbuckle and jump up, arching his back, trying to get the most momentum he could possibly get. He then jumped and began to flip.
Awww, what a miss.
Zed's luck finally ran out, as hid body fell straight onto the mat, bouncing back off awkwardly and violently. Ampske, limping up, signaled for the end of the match as he stalked Zed from the back as he got up slowly. Turning around, Zed swung a wild punch but was too high to hit Ampske. Ampske then grabbed Zed in the Northern Lights Suplex position and lifted him up high into the air and with a tremendous thud, dropped Zed's back straight onto his knee. He went for the cover;
ONE!
TWO!
THRE - NO!
Somehow, Zed survived. Ampske was stunned, and as he returned to his feet, kicked at Zed's head. He was sure that last sequence would have done Zed in. Turning, Ampske glanced at Sexton, who responded back with the slighest of nods. What was that all about?
Nobody knew. They were focused on Ampske pulling Zed up, only for the latter to kick out at Ampske's groin. SHOCKER~! The best part? It was undetected by the referee. Everybody in the crowd sensed something magical was about to take place. And it did.
Small package. Yes, you're not dreaming. Small package, and Ampske's eyes widened in shock, as he had his shoulders pinned to the mat;
ONE!
TWO!
THRE - REVERSAL!
Ampske now had Zed trapped in a small package.
Annnnnd, with a handful of tights, too.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Ampske rolled away from Zed and out of the ring, raising his arms in victory. Zed bolted to his feet, astonished by what had happened.
Gott Sein by Megaherz blaring over the speakers only reaffirmed the result; Ampske had been victorious in his debut match, pipping Zed to the victory. The fans didn't quite know how to react. Some cheered, others jeered, a small group of fans started to remove their clothes and did the Numfar Dance of Shame.
Ampske? He just wheeled past Biron Sexton, sneered at the super-agent and continued up the ramp.
In the ring, Zed kicked the bottom rope in frustration. He'd been outwitted by Ampske. Victory had been denied.
Hell of an opening match, innit?
| Winner by Pinfall, Ampske! |
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| Contractual Agreements |
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Knock Knock
The audible sounds led into the fading in view of Thaddeus Boyle’s office. “Come in.” Shortly thereafter the door opened allowing two well dressed men to walk inside.
“To what do I owe the pleasure tonight gentlemen?” spoke Boyle as he looked up from his paperwork and immediately recognized the two before him.
“The Fighting Zone.” spoke the younger man, before being interrupted by the lead man, a tall six foot seven male in his 40’s, renowned world over as Loghan 'SilverFox' Collins, with his hair already graying over. “Or Rather, 4 Corners Wrestling.”
“I figured as much. Please,” he gestured to the two chairs in front of his oak desk. “have a seat.” To which they obliged. “Listen, I know your talent have been getting-“
“Exactly. Our contract with NBW states that our talent will get face-time each show, with no less than one match featuring them. Ever since April, this agreement has hardly been followed up on, Mister Boyle.”
Boyle leaned forward, his arms crossed over the papers beneath him. “Loghan, I understand. I do. But with the recent acquisition and partnership of The Fighting Zone, we did some shuffling around; however we have still lived up to the agreement. Your talent still gets time out there. Even against some of our best.”
“THAT IS THE PROBLEM!” voiced the younger red-haired gentlemen from behind. “They are being treated as enhancement talent! To make NBW's superstars look good! You had our, I stress this greatly, OUR World Champion Xiang take a dive in a house show against Zed of all people. Seriously? I also see you have the former champion, Man Mountain, listed in the TFZ Championship defense tonight. This man once wrestled and won a 6 on 1 handicap match, and you are going to feed him to the Fighting Champion?”
“Mr. Buster, or can I call you Dave?” He got a nod. “Dave, we also quite recently in fact, gave Xiang and his contender Lexia Hart a full Fifteen minute slot on Slam Five. As for the Fighting Zone, I would appreciate it if you did not spoil our fans with the opponent for Mr. Castonovo tonight. I would also appreciate if you didn't... how do I phrase this... break the illusion? The cameras are still rolling.”
“Apologies for that. And we do thank you for the match on Slam Five, Boyle.” Spoke Loghan. “However that is just one instance in what, a two hour timeslot that NBW gets with Hulu? This is nowhere close to what was in our agreement.”
Boyle smiled nervously, for once hoping he didn't have a cameraman stationed in his office at all times: “I do apologize gentlemen; however we are living up to our end of the contractual agreements.”
David Buster shook his head and went to speak however Loghan cut him off.
“I understand Mister Boyle. All we ask is that they get fair time for marketing of our promotion, as well as to help them exceed. After all you do want fresher talent, do you not?” He smiled and extended his arm for a shake with Thaddeus. “We will be in touch.”
The two slowly walked out of the ring with the camera crew close behind trying to get a few words out of them but they remained silent until they went outside the arena. Would this be the last we hear from 4CW's Owner and leading Colour Commentator slash Talent Chief.
| A D-T Detour |
|---|
"Draw the Line" by Aerosmith played in the arena. Like a Pavlovian response, the nbW crowd went batty as D-T went down to the ring along with their new teammates, FTW. The four men entered the ring. Chris Noid grabbed a microphone.
"I have it on good authority," Noid said, "That Dark Ninja has acquired a copy of Gray's Sports Almanac and a Time Machine. That is the only possible way he is currently the nbW Tag Team Champion."
The crowd cheered this Back to the Future reference. Noid continued, "Ninja lives in a Pleasure Palace while the city all around him crumbles, crying out for champions like D-T or FTW!"
He completed the metaphor then passed the microphone along to Showtime. The tone got a bit more serious.
"As much as I would love to get a chance to do my part to silence Dark Ninja once and for all, there is a bit of bad news, which I'm sure some of you may have heard about. You see, as you know, tonight, in addition to the monumental 8-man tag match between us four and DW and the Creeps-- er, that is, the Creedes, sorry, typo on my cue card... in addition to that match, there is of course the tremendous 10-to-1 match. This is an Earth-shattering match featuring 10 of the greatest superstars in nbW and will determine the fate of the World Championship. Unfortunately, their 10th man, Kaliban, was last seen prowling the Pacific Northwest and posing for Sasquatch pictures."
"Woah, bro, don't joke about Sasquatches," Noid interjected.
"Fair enough. In any case, you can't go around calling a match the 10-to-1 if it only has 9 guys in it. So they asked everyone they could. I mean everyone. Uncensored, Tyke, Mane Miaate, Wosret, Shawn Jessica Hart, Trevor McKnight, Brian McKnight, Bryan Adams, both the singer and the wrestler... Fred "Typhoon" Ottman, Repo Man, Lance Storm, Lance Armstrong, Neil Armstrong, Neil Diamond, Dustin Diamond, Dusty Rhodes, Rusty Nails, Nailz, Justin Bieber, the Gobbledy Gooker, Nelly Furtado, The Philly Fanatic, The Original Broadway Cast of Rent, disgraced former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich, Weird Al Yankovic, Al Borland, former Limp Bizkit Guitarist Wes Borland, Sasha Obama, Zombie Buddy Holly, Perry Robbin, "Bottled Lightning" Tom Childs, Blood Boy, Revenger, Jaliec, Big Dog Thomas, Pat Gordon, and Krazy Karl, the homeless guy who exposes himself to me every time I walk in through the north parking lot to this very arena... a lot of people were asked, I'm saying. But all of them were busy. So finally, they asked me. And I reluctantly accepted. A few months ago, Proteus and I made a pact to renew our attention to regaining the nbW Dynasty Tag Championship for D-T. And as painful as it is to divide my focus this way, we discovered ourselves an ingenious loophole. With a team like FTW under our banner, there's no doubt that the nbW Tag Team Championships will soon be where they belong."
The crowd cheered. They were really getting behind FTW of late, and it only helped that they had D-T's endorsement.
Showtime continued, "So you say to yourselves, 'But Showtime? What about the match tonight? Surely you are not planning to wrestle two massively important matches in one night?' And you're right. But as soon as this problem arose, the solution presented itself. If I may call down Proteus' one-time student and occasional opponent, El Avestruz."
"Holding Out For a Hero" hit and El Avestruz came out to a mixed reaction.
As he stepped into the ring, Showtime addressed him. "Two Slams ago, you donned a Dark Ninja costume and wrestled Proteus in a submission match."
Avestruz replied, "That is correct. And I regret that lapse in judgment!"
"We want to believe you, El Avestruz. Unfortunately, you've gotten yourself mixed up in a war with stakes far beyond your comprehension. Now that you're 'in it,' you need to prove yourself to us. Join team D-T tonight, fight alongside us and prove your intentions."
"I won't let you down!" El Avestruz said. He went up for a high five, but nobody reciprocated.
"Hey Kids" by Jet, the official theme of FTW, played, and the quintet went to the back to strategize.
| The Last Vine |
|---|
The EpiCenter shows what’s been happening for the last two shows and a review of the 10 to 1 competitors and what’s on the line. The camera cuts to outside of the arena which shows the surrounding city of St. Louis and then cuts back to the nBW crowd before finally slowly it pans to the commentary table.
Com1: Marc Gordon- Fans if you are just tuning in we are well on are way to declaring a new nBW World Heavyweight Champion. Stay glued to your set and expect the unexpected tonight on Slam.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Yeah Marc looking forward to our main event tonight. For all you new guys in the back take notes. This is what it is all about; day in day out you bleed and sweat for this company. You get the honour of a shot at the most prestigious title that this company has to offer.
Com1: Marc Gordon- If you’re not familiar with the history of nBW World title. Let’s take a trip down memory lane.
The EpiCenter shows all the great matches that have gone on over the past half-decade.
Com1: Marc Gordon- A lot of legends were born in the pursuit of this title. And many of our younger superstars hope to engrave their names in the history books; the greatest of nBW World Champions, such as Ali Amore, High Flyer, Uncensored, William Arthur Reagan, Jason Kain and that list continues.
Before Terry can reply he’s interrupted by Judasbleek’s theme music.
The lights dim to a pulsing red and blue hue. The EpiCenter shows the letters T.F.S and images of gorilla groups going to war, buildings crashing to the ground, and a series of violent moments across the globe.
The arena grows silent. ‘Animal I have become’ by Three Days Grace is heard throughout the Epic II Arena. Judasbleek calmly walks down the ramp then stops at the ring. Rolls his neck and slides under the bottom rope. At that time a red cluster of fireworks goes off around the ring while Judasbleek taunts the crowd.
While the music fades away Judasbleek calls for a microphone.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Sighhhhh! And so it speaks
Judasbleek speaks into the microphone- “From the days of Adam to our own time, a great enemy has been exercising there power to oppress and destroy. The men behind the shadows are now preparing for there last campaign against mankind. All who embrace there freedom of will, will be brought into conflict with this relentless foe. Satan assailed Christ with his fiercest and most subtle temptations, but he was repulsed in every conflict. Those battles were fought in our behalf; those victories make it possible for us to conquer.
No man without his own consent can be overcome by temptations of the human mind. The tempter has no power to control the will or to force the soul to sin. They may distress, but they cannot contaminate. They can cause agony, but not defilement.
The world is a "great whore" because she is GREATLY impure; she has left her first husband, God’s, only son and "committed fornication" with the "kings of the earth."
I have stepped outside the box you have allowed yourself to be put into and I started from scratch, getting to know my self all over again and will not make the same mistakes. In shorter terms I will destroy you and your feeble attempts to bring glory back to Slam. You so proudly claim you are the saviour and protector of virtue and order in nBW.
How can you fight someone and so easily be distracted? Because you are conflicted with your inferior human emotions, lost within your self. You might have heard that there is a time coming when the world will be in chaos. It's been called everything from the End Times, to Armageddon, to the Conflagration to the Tribulation. “
{Fans scream} WHAT?
“You've heard that it is a time that will be upon us soon. Guess what? It isn't "going" to happen...It's happening right now. Why do you think you hear the word "chaos" everyday on television and read it in newspapers and magazines? It's because - even though many of you haven't realized it yet - we are in the midst of The Chaos. Just take a look at events in your own neighbourhoods and in the world around you...”
{Fans scream} WHAT?
“But the chaos isn't something to be afraid of or worry about. This is just a time of change of transformation. You blame each other for your own undoing looking for some hero to save you from drowning in your on sorrow. You want to be saved start with the one force that is enslaving you all – ORDER.”
{Fans scream} WHAT?
“Society of individuals who enjoy complete freedom without government or the denial of any authority that has established order. Stop living by man’s law and walk the path of true freedom of will. The purpose of The Forgotten Son is to bring down the walls that keep man trap with in themselves. “
{Fans scream} WHAT?
“To expose secrets that are kept from them. Am searching for true outer peace, not needing to let go and accept my full spectrum of emotions. You rejoice at the sight of your inferior champions. Winning a championship doesn’t make a legend it’s the legacy you leave behind. I plan on leaving a legacy of destruction that will not be influence or controlled by any authority that has established a so call order”.
{Fans scream} WHAT?
Judasbleek grips the microphone tight.
“You silly whore monkeys!
Through me the way into the suffering forest,
Through me the way to the eternal pain,
Through me the way that runs among the lost.
Justice urged on my high artificer;
My maker was divine authority,
The highest wisdom and the primal love.
Before me nothing but eternal things were made,
And I endure eternally.
Abandon every hope, ye who enter here. Am the vine and you are the branch without me you are nothing!"
Judasbleek drops the microphone and kicks it outside the ring and starts to relax his self for the up coming match.
Com1: Marc Gordon- No order!
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- “What the hell is he talking about? Look kid you want to make a name for yourself here. Then you need to put in work like every other great nBW World champion before you did. There no short cuts, just hard work. Damn rooks need to know their place in the food chain”.
Com1: Marc Gordon- “Hey! Don’t forget about our Keystone division. There are some great Keystone Champions as well as World champions. When thinking about all the awesome matches that are associated with the Keystone championship one match comes to mind. Domination PPV on May 5th 2005. Straightjacket Match for the Keystone Championship, featuring Rey Campbell Versus Lunatic”.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- That takes me back when getting a pure ass whooping was in FULL EFFECT for all you rooks who thought they were the next big thing.
Com1: Marc Gordon- I kinda understand what the kid is trying to say.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- When did you start speaking psychopath?
|
|
|
| Judasbleek | Versus |
4CW's Benjamin Jones |
|---|---|---|
| Exhibition Match | ||
The nBW camera cuts to a over head look of the EpiCenter and stage ramp.
Ring Announcer: Brent Williams- The following match is scheduled for one fall.
‘Monsters’ by Matchbook Romance blew through the speakers of The Epic II Arena. 4CW vet Benjamin Jones walks onto the stage ramp from the backstage area. Stands on stage and stars at Judasbleek, while decked with a 4CW letter jacket.
Com1: Marc Gordon-: A 4CW veteran Benjamin Jones is 6’6 and weighs 275lb; this should be a good match seeing that both competitors are strong grapplers.
Benjamin Jones runs down the ramp, slams the 4CW jacket to the ground and slides into the ring. Judasbleek and Benjamin Jones start to fight like two well train pit bulls.
Referee: Tal Nedrick calls for the bell.
DING
DING
Com1: Marc Gordon-: 4CW has been around since the early 50s as a training juncture for circus routines and soon became the defacto in Missouri and later the central US.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Who cares about the history lesson these two gorillas are going at it. Hell Yeah! Get some.
Benjamin gets the upper hand in the exchanges of punches. Judasbleek is pushed back to the ropes and Benjamin performs a strong Irish whip to the opposite side of the ring ropes as Judasbleek returns to the center of the Benjamin jumps up falling against his opponent with the core of his body. Benjamin Jones Using Judasbleek’s momentum and weight to impact, Body Press. A still stun Judasbleek falls flat on his back. Benjamin Jones picks Judas up and a strong Irish whips to the turnbuckle.
Benjamin runs at his opponent, who is upright in the corner, then jumps forward so that he splashes his whole body stomach-first, squashing his opponent between him and the turnbuckle, Stinger splash. As Benjamin rebounds off Judasbleek’s body and regroups in the center of the ring. Judasbleek stumbles forward, Benjamin goes for a Flying clothesline.
Before Benjamin can connect Judasbleek ducks and catches him in mid air on the side of his opponent locking his arms around his opponent's waist (near arm in front of the opponent and far arm behind) and lifting Benjamin up and slamming him over back-first down to the mat, Gutwrench suplex. Benjamin curls up in pain as Judasbleek comes to his feet. Judasbleek picks Benjamin up and tries to strong Irish whips him into the turnbuckle but Benjamin counters and stops Judas in mid stride and whips him into the turnbuckle. Benjamin follows up with a monster of a Spear inside the turnbuckle.
Judasbleek folds inward and then Benjamin stands on the top rope and begins delivering repeated punches to the face of Judasbleek while he is backed up against the turnbuckle. The crowd starts to count the punches,
{nBW Crowd} 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..
As Benjamin readies him self for the last punch Judasbleek grabs him by the tights and walks forward holding Benjamin up. Then Judas slams him on his back, Powerbomb but keeps a firm grip and picks Benjamin back up and Sit-down Powerbomb. Judasbleek picks Benjamin up and then Judasbleek stands behind Benjamin and bends him forward. One of Benjamin arms is pulled back between his legs and held, while Benjamin’s other arm is hooked by Judasbleek manoeuvring his arm around in front of his opponent's shoulder and securing it behind the head (a quarter-nelson). Judasbleek then lifts his opponent up over his head and falls backwards to slam his opponent against the mat back-first Pumphandle suplex Benjamin back arches off the canvas after the violent impact.
Judasbleek picks Jones up off the ground but while coming to a vertical base Benjamin drives an elbow into the mid section of Judasbleek. Benjamin runs to the ropes while Judasbleek is bent over in the middle of the ring. Benjamin bounces off the ropes, jumps, driving his leg(s) into the back of the head and the neck of Judasbleek, Scissors kick. Judasbleek’s face becomes one with the mat. Judasbleek is on all four’s trying to regain his composer. Benjamin follows up with a Dropping Knee to the back of the head of Judasbleek. Judasbleek rolls around holding his head in pain.
Benjamin starts stomping the head of Judasbleek. Judasbleek slides out of the ring not shortly after Benjamin slides out the ring behind Judas and pushes him from the back forcing him to smacks head first with the Ringpost, DINGGG! Judasbleek’s body turns halfway while slamming into the barricade.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- 1……2……3
While Judasbleek is daze on the barricade Benjamin runs and leaps up into the air, before connecting with a forearm smash. Judasbleek catches him in the air and drives his back into the Ringpost.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- 4…..5…..6
Judasbleek slides into the ring to break the count. Judasbleek stands over Benjamin while he is still on his stomach. Judasbleek locks in a waist lock and picks Benjamin up.
Com1: Marc Gordon- Looks like The Forgotten Son is going for a German suplex
Before Judas can snap his hips Benjamin breaks the waist lock and spins around to catch Judasbleek off guard with a stiff DDT.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Counter for counter, blow for blow, and its getting good baby.
Com1: Marc Gordon- Yes! Indeed it is. But you have to ask yourself what is the game plan for Benjamin Jones? Both grapplers are equally match when it comes down to the power and all around ring wits, shown with that amazing DDT out of no were.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Pretty much the game plan is to stay one step ahead of your opponent and take full advantage of ever mistake your opponent makes.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- 7……8.
Benjamin cuffs the head of Judasbleek and tosses him into the ring. Judasbleek slowly rolls to his back, daze and confuse. Benjamin hops into the ring and has a crazy look upon his face. Benjamin mounts Judas and holds both of Judasbleek's arms under his own, and delivers a series of head butts to his opponent, who is unable to counter.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Start the count, 1..2..3..4
Benjamin stops the attack and time and stands up to pick Judas off the mat. Benjamin puts Judasbleek in a front facelock, hooks his tights, and lifts Judasbleek up as if he was performing a vertical suplex. Benjamin then jumps up and falls on to his back so that Judasbleek lands on his head while remaining vertical, Brainbuster. Benjamin go’s for the first pin in this match.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Slides into action. 1..2 ½ NO!!!!!!!!!! Kick Out
Benjamin while on his knees is extremely piss off. Judasbleek rolls to his side and holds his head.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- checks to see if Judas is able to continue.
Benjamin swiftly walks over to the turnbuckle with out alerting the ref. While the ref is tending to Judasbleek Benjamin starts to uncover the top buckle to expose the three metal connecting rings. Benjamin waits in the corner plotting his next move as Judasbleek comes to his feet and faces his opponent. Benjamin approaches picks Judas up like he’s going to perform a Spinebuster but instead falls backward. Judasbleek’s head smacks the top of the expose buckle; Judasbleek’s body crumbles inside the corner of the ring. Benjamin picks Judasbleek up then tries to strong Irish whip him into the expose turnbuckle.
But Judasbleek counters, then Judasbleek wraps his arms around his opponent in a waist lock position and flips Benjamin over by violently bridging his own body so the opponent lands on the expose buckle on his back, Belly to belly suplex. Benjamin drops on top of his head inside the turnbuckle corner.
Judasbleek is not happy about Benjamin having so much experience and the fact that he’s been getting the better of him. Judasbleek doesn’t waste any time and picks Benjamin off the canvas and stands behind Benjamin and grabs hold of one of the Benjamin's wrists, tucks his head under that arm's armpit, and wraps his free arm around near leg of his opponent. Judasbleek then lifts his opponent up on to his shoulders sideways, and at the same time spins 90° and falls down on to his back, slamming Benjamin down to the mat back first, Angle Slam.
Judasbleek stands over Benjamin and applies a wrists lock to bring Benjamin to his feet then Judasbleek strong Irish whips him to the ropes as Benjamin returns to the center of the ring. Judasbleek stands facing his opponent. Judasbleek bends the opponent down so they are bent facing in front on Judasbleek’s body. Judasbleek reaches around his opponent's body with their arms and lifts them up, spinning Benjamin in front of his body, to deliver a Tilt-the-world backbreaker.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton-Ohh! Benjamin is trying to support his lower back as he rolls on his stomach.
Judasbleek cuffing the head of Benjamin looks like he’s going for a power slam but wait Benjamin wiggles out.
Benjamin places Judasbleek in a argentine backbreaker rack position. Benjamin then falls sideways, driving Judasbleek’s head to the mat. While holding the far arm of his opponent across the Judasbleek's own throat and maintains it by holding the Judasbleek's wrist before performing a Inverted Death Valley Driver. Benjamin goes for a pin.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Slides into action. 1..2 ½ NO!!!!!!!!!! Kick Out
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- So close but no dice. What is it going to take to put this dog to sleep?
Com1: Marc Gordon- Nice counter by Benjamin. That is considered an extremely dangerous move, as the opponent's body cannot roll with the natural momentum of the move to absorb the impact. In a cut-throat variation of this driver, instead of holding the body of the opponent, a wrestler holds the far arm of the opponent across the opponent's own throat and maintains it by holding the opponent's wrist before performing the deadly inverted Death Valley driver. Takes a lot of hart and power to kick out of that.
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- Yeah, it does. Judasbleek is showing a lot of hart tonight.
Com1: Marc Gordon- Judasbleek is showing that he has the drive to keep up with the Big Dogs here in nBW. Giving his all, what do you think Terry?
Com2: Terry 'Rents' Renton- He hasn’t proven to me yet that he belongs among the top contenders of nBW.
Benjamin goes nuts and start to coke Judasbleek.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- 1...2...3..4,
Benjamin breaks the hold and picks up Judas off the mat and places Judasbleek an a Tombstone position before he can execute Judasbleek wiggles his legs forcing Benjamin to fall backwards. Judasbleek is now in a vertical base holding Benjamin in a Tombstone position. Judasbleek executes the Tombstone. Judasbleek goes for his first pin of the match.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Slides into action. 1...2 HELL NO! Kick Out
Judasbleek slowly crawls to the turnbuckle and starts to climb upward mean while Benjamin is doing the same. Both wrestlers a standing and they charge each other as they are about collide Benjamin tries to connect with a big boot. Judasbleek ducks under and Benjamin turns around and then Judasbleek while facing his opponent. Judasbleek then grabs his opponent around the waist, lifts him o up, and tosses him forward and slams Benjamin down while landing on top of him Spinebuster.
Com1: Marc Gordon- Judasbleek is going for something. Looks like a modified clover leaf, standing with his knee and back (Enslaver). Some type of submission.
Judasbleek yeahs out- “YOU WILL ENBRACE ME WHORE MONKEYS!”
Judasbleek digs his knee deep in the back of Benjamin while pulling Benjamin’s legs back.
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Slides into action- “what do you say Benjamin, do you want to quit?
Judasbleek has Benjamin dead in the center of no mans land. Benjamin’s face shows a picture of unbearable pain
Referee: Tal Nedrick- Slides into action- “what do you say Benjamin, do you want to quit?
Benjamin grabs the ref by the ankle and passes out. Referee: Tal Nedrick- Calls for the bell.
Ding
Ding
Com1: Marc Gordon- Judasbleek is not letting go the submission, he’s on a mission of pure cataclysm.
After four attempts to get Judasbleek to release the hold he finally lets go of the submission. ‘Animal I have become’ by Three Days Grace- is heard throughout the Epic II Arena once more. Judasbleek calmly exits the ring and walks up the ramp then pauses for a second looks back to admire the fact he left his opponent in a unconscious state. Judasbleek rolls his neck and continues backstage.
| Winner by Submission, Judasbleek! |
|---|
| No Order |
|---|
Jay Hucks- Catches up with Judasbleek backstage.
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- Judasbleek if I can have a second of your time?
Judasbleek- “What do you want whore monkey”?
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- Early before your match with Benjamin Jones you stated that and I Quote “The men behind the shadows are now preparing for there last campaign against mankind. All who embrace there freedom of will be brought into conflict with this relentless foe”. If you don’t mind me asking who are you referring to?
Judasbleek –“Understanding nBW’s ability to cash in on anything TFZ Zone, 4CW. It changes the wrestling order of over all dominance. That means that nBw holds us all in an iron grip, so far, your future as reporter begins to creep inexorably into the failing Wrestling capitalist era, so nBW's calculated economic strategy begins to unfold. Guess where their knowledge and tactical supremacy is derived. Guess who is at the vanguard of the emerging TFZ and 4CW success. Well, they can enjoy their scheming nastiness and pursuit of power at any cost. Only one brand is more devious and cunning, smart and dictatorial than ever the nBW have been, and that would be 4CW.
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- As a whole you can’t think that nBW by promoting 4CW is hurting their chances of wrestling dominance. That will only bring more success to nBW.
Judasbleek – “If you believe that then you’re already lost within your own self denial. You want to be saved start with the one force that is enslaving you all – ORDER. There need be no violence, no guns, no banners, no slogans, no group think, just a united act of global non compliance. Remember that it is much easier to fight for principles than to live up to them and it takes a far braver man to stand up for what is right and spit in the face of authority than it does to blindly follow orders due to fear of the consequences. Understand that we are all one and the key to real change and unity in this world. It is time for the people of the world to stop and realize that the divisions that supposedly exist amongst us are an illusion. There IS NO division and its time for everyone to understand the truth of this. It is through the constantly promoted illusion of division that the system is able to function but in order for it to do so, it needs public compliance. Stop complying with it and you will shut it down. Eventually enough people will be resisting, if no one signed up there would be any soldiers to fight. If soldiers lay down their arms, there would be no wars. Sounds idealistic? Yes, but all great movements are founded at first upon dreams that can be made reality!”
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- If so who do you feel is behind this so called take over?
Judasbleek-“Given the manner in which an appointed individual exploits wrestlers to enrich his own pockets, those wrestlers are evidently expendable. Their bloodied bodies create a massive profit for the international wrestling scene. The original advocates of order, acquired through warfare, usually followed by sanctions, reparations and finally obedience to an international entity”.
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- Were is the proof in your logic?
Judasbleek- Hah, the proof is in the every day broadcasting of Slam. Enhancement talent! You all are lambs to the slaughter if you embrace it.
Judasbleek calmly walks away.
(Reporter) Jay Hucks- Well there you have it folks. Judasbleek’s Conspiracy theory, Jay Hucks looks confused as he looks into the camera as it fades out.
| Boxes and Boxes |
|---|
In the back, Dark Ninja sat amidst boxes and boxes of black t-shirts emblazoned with a catchphrase he'd attempted to get over many months ago, but that didn't catch on. In every size available, both men and women's, "THAT JUST HAPPENED" tees. Although his mask mainly hid his expression, you could tell he was irritated.
Psycho entered, eating a bagel with cream cheese.
"What's up boss?"
Ninja groaned. "This, I don't need. Boxes and boxes of t-shirts for a catchphrase I have been forgetting to say. You'd think that just the fact that it's an awesome catchphrase would get it over, but the fact that those jackholes in the audience have not been chanting it along with me shows they don't know crap about what makes a good catchphrase."
"Agreed," agreed Psycho, agreeably.
"What do I gotta do? I need to get more outrageous. I need to be remarkable. I need to be 200% Ninja. Shit, that's an awesome catchphrase. 200% Ninja: That Just Happened. They should be paying me royalties for this shit."
"They are paying you royalties," the unusually-astute Psycho noted. He may be a space case, but he cares about his finances.
"Well anyway. It's hard to focus."
"Because we've gotta face 8 guys tonight?"
"What? We don't have to face 8 guys. That's not how an 8-man-tag works. We're on a team of four, we're facing four-- Goddamnit Psycho, just listen to me when I tell you something for once. It's not about the match. It's something else. It's the 10-to-1 match. How can they have asked Showtime and not asked me? What gives him the right? They asked all those people he mentioned, and not me."
"I'm pretty sure some of them were made up," Psycho replied, finishing half his bagel and starting on the other. "I never heard of this Justin Bieber."
"In any case. It's not right. Showtime is filler. He's just there to make the name make sense. He's not worthy of the match. He's not worthy of this company. Psycho, take a note."
"Wha? Where?"
"Just listen. I need to get those assholes out of here soon. I'm sick of being associated with them. I feel like I've said this every week."
"Yeah, you do."
"Well, I mean it!" Dark Ninja continued to rant, "I wouldn't complain about Showtime chickening out of his match with me, but to do so for a world title shot? That's like being kicked upstairs. Straight up, hardcore peter principle shit."
"Straight up?" Psycho said, "Great, now I've got that Paula Abdul song stuck in my head."
"Showtime can't be allowed to win the 10-to-1 match, Psycho. I'll do whatever I need to do to keep that from happening. Including, indeed especially interfering in that match."
As Dark Ninja pondered his own statement, he knocked the remains of Psycho's bagel out of his hand. After a moment, he declared, "That just happened."
Dark Ninja was about to make a dramatic exit, but he stumbled over a cardboard box. "Goddamn boxes!"
|
|
|
| Wyman | 'The Black Death' Rath Sammarino | Jupiter |
|---|---|---|
| Exhibition Match | ||
Earlier in the night, 13 new wrestlers had been officially signed to NBW, acting as the concluding chapter in super-agent Biron Sexton's search for the next big things in NBW. At least, that was the plan.
And with an already loaded card in store for the fans in attendance, they were about to -- legitimately for the first time -- witness three of the aforementioned new signees do battle inside the famed NBW squared circle. But before we got to the action, everybody got a quick look at each of the three competitors, courtesy of the jazzed-up NBWtron affectionately called The Epicentre.
- 28 Aug. 1986
- Victoria, TX, USA
- 5'7" | 122 lbs.
- Twist Of Destiny (Springboard Hurricarana Takedown)
- This firecracker of a Texan girl is dynamic in the ring, and when pushed, Wyman has a fightin' side that'll shock most that are sure to underestimate her. Oh, and that scar running across her left cheek? There's a story behind that which'll make you think twice about dismissing Wyman as a naive girl who can't hurt you.
- 05 Jun. 1981
- Brooklyn, NY, USA
- 6'1" | 237 lbs.
- Reset Button (Slingshot Suplex)
- This former boxer made the rather smooth transition to wrestling during a time when everything in his life crumbled around him. Now, Rath is on a mission. He's encountered many horrors in his travels, and he only wishes for one thing: the ultimate reset button. Wrestling? A means to an end. For now.
- 04 Jan. 1978
- Calgary, Alberta, Canada
- 6'1" | 412 lbs.
- Callisto's Fall (running hip attack in corner -> bodyslam to stumbling opponent)
- Jupiter's a big man with a mean streak, but what he has in size he lacks in experience. His brother was one of the few lucky to have trained under the late Yokozuna, and after his brother's passing, Jupiter decided to stop being a fan and live out his brother's life, hoping to do him proud.
Nicely done by NBW's behind-the-scenes team, just as the three competitors took their place in the ring. Considering that Jupiter was the biggest person in the ring by far, it made sense that Rath Sammarino and Wyman reached a telepathic agreement. Jupiter's face told the story of outrage as his two opponents gunned for him at the outset, backing the big man into a corner and laying into him with fists and kicks. Rath and Wyman worked rather well together, managing to combine their individual strength to take Jupiter down after a variety of strikes aimed at the big man's legs. A fierce chopblock to Jupiter's legs and the follow-up springboard dropkick from Wyman was enough to send Jupiter tumbling out of the ring. It was a miracle the ring ropes didn't snap.
Once that was done, Rath immediately pounced on Wyman, knocking her senseless with a barrage of hard-hitting moves. To her credit, Wyman held strong; even when Rath had her trapped in a sleeper submission. Wyman reached the ropes with her foot, which saved her butt. Funnily enough, her flailing foot caught the recovering Jupiter in the face, and he collapsed back down on the protective mats, tending to his possibly broken nose. In the ring, Rath Sammarino broke the hold after very nearly drawing the disqualification and dragged Wyman back to the middle of the ring. That almost proved to be his undoing, as Wyman rolled away from Rath's clutches and shocked the man known as 'The Black Death' with a La Magistral crade pin. It was only the timely return of Jupiter into the ring that saved Rath. For a short time.
Back inside the squared circle, Jupiter began to impose his authority over his other two adversaries. He had an obvious size and power advantage, and used that to throw Wyman and Rath around like rag-dolls. Unfortunately for Jupiter, he was not able to capitalise on his execution of a boot to Wyman's face, for the sheer impact of that move saw Wyman bundle out of the ring. That allowed Rath Sammarino to plot his next moves -- 'The Black Death' slipped out of Jupiter's fireman carry and scored with another tremendous chop-block. From there, Rath introduce Jupiter's face into his right knee, and that was enough to keep Jupiter down with a three-count. A good debut performance from all three competitors, but in the end it was 'The Black Death' Rath Sammarino who triumphed. Wyman appeared a tad bit disconsolate, and Jupiter was just outright pissed.
The fans? They cheered for the nice little match they'd seen.
| Winner by Pinfall, 'The Black Death' Rath Sammarino! |
|---|
| A brief and strange interlude |
|---|
There was a sudden lull in the action.
The fans in The Epic II Arena were growing restless. Listless. Impatient.
They wanted something to happen. Anything. It didn't matter what.
Suddenly, there was a fan that jumped over the barricade and ran over to the timekeeper's table. Why didn't anybody stop this fan? Well, for one, this fan happened to be a woman with huge tits.
Secondly, she was an Asian woman. It's not often you see an Oriental chick with large knockers.
Anyways. This large-chested female fan grabbed a microphone, clumsily rolled into the ring (showing off her panties as she did so considering she was adorned in the tiniest denim skirt imaginable) and took her place in the middle of the squared circle.
There was two other things rather outstanding about this Asian woman.
a) She had very slanty eyes.
b) She also had rather enormous teeth.
Without any reason to do so, the large-chested female fan began to dash around the ring in circles. The fans didn't know what to do, so they laughed.
They stopped when the lady raised the microphone to her lips.
"CHING CHONG CHANG, HO HO HO~!"
What do you think they did next?
... Of course they all shat their pants and died laughing. That was HILARIOUS.
So, yeah. That was the end of this brief and strange interlude.
| The Violence in Malta |
|---|
It all started in 1981 during the general elections in Malta. The Nationalist Party got the majority of the votes. They got 50.9% of the votes but due to an anomaly in the Maltese Legislation during that time, the Malta Labour Party was put in power yet again due to the fact that they had elected more member of parliament than the Nationalist Party.
This anomaly led to one of the darkest periods in the history of Malta. Years of violence occurred. There were villages in Malta which were off limits to Nationalist Party supporters. Bormla was one of them, and Zejtun was another. They were Labour strongholds and if they knew that you were a PN supporter then you will be in deep trouble. At least in Bormla there was a strong PN member of parliament known as “il-Gross” and his supporters were known throughout Bormla.
One of these Bormla PN supporters was Joe Borg. Joe Borg was a 25 year old married man to Carmen. He was born and bred in Malta but since his father was a PN supporter, helping out “il-Gross”, he continued his path.
In 1984, Joe and Carmen, had their first son. They were really happy. With all that political turmoil in the country at least they had that one thing that could make them happy.
Fast forward to 30th November 1986. A PN meeting was going to be held in “Tal-Barrani”, Zejtun. Rumours had been going around for weeks that the Labour supporters and the Labour-led-Police were preparing to attack. Carmen pleaded with Joe not to go to the meeting for the sake of their son. But Joe didn’t want to hear anything. He has been with “il-Gross” and he wanted to be there with him in this momentous occasion. Little did he know that his actions during that dreaded day will change the history of politics in Malta forever.
30,000 Nationalist Party supporters met and led by the leader of the Party, members of parliament and their trusted supporters on the front. They started walking towards Zejtun. When they arrived at “Tal-Barrani”, they found the road blocked by burning tyres and stones. Suddenly a lot of Labour supporters wearing balaclavas started throwing stones at the front of the group. But that didn’t stop them. They continued walking towards the stage.
But suddenly they were met with the police force fully armed and hundreds of Labour supporters. Shots were heard and all hell broke loose. In one decision that stopped the country from having a fully blown domestic war, the leader of party turned to the 30,000 contingent to retreat. There were lots of people hurt. Joe Borg was one of them. He had been shot twice and he was bleeding.
As they retreated, the leaders of the party took Joe Borg to the hospital and immediately called his wife Carmen to come to the hospital with their son.
As soon as they arrived they were greeted by the party leader who told them that things weren’t looking for Joe.
Carmen and their son spent the whole night with Joe, but at 8.00am of the 1st December 1986, Joe Borg died with his wife Carmen, their son, “il-Gross” and the party leader standing near him.
Those accidents and the death of Joe Borg changed politics in Malta forever. It was the start that led to the Nationalist Party’s win in the election of 1987. It was the start that gave Malta its democracy again.
On the 15th of December 1986 the funeral of Joe Borg was held in the Bormla Parish. The church was full and there were even people on the outside that came to give Joe Borg the last goodbye. His coffin was held high by the party leader and “il-Gross” amongst others. As the coffin of Joe Borg was taken to the cemetery, Joe Borg’s son, who was just 2 years old, asked the party leader for the party emblem and the flag of Malta, and the party leader gladly gave them to him. Joe Borg’s son grabbed both of them and kissed them and then put them with his father’s coffin.
Joe Borg’s son was The Son of Malta!
| El desafio suicida |
|---|
CUE UP: Dale Pa’ Tra by Notch
The Epic II Arena went dark as red, green, and white strobe lights circle all around the arena. Suddenly all three lights hit the stage as the Mexican flag popped onto the tron. The man who made his appearance at Slam VI came out on to the stage with his manager Raul Salazar. The Mexican born wrestler who was simply known as EDL or El Dragón Loco looked around the arena listening to the jeers of the fans. The two men made their way down the ramp. Both men looking to make another statement like the one they made last week. The climbed into the ring as Raul had a microphone in one hand and holding his cane in the other hand. El Dragón Loco stood next to his manager dressed to wrestle. I guess he wanted to prove why he was signed to the nBW.
“Last week St. Louis you were introduced to this man right here, El Dragón Loco.”
Fans started to jeer.
“See we felt that you all got to meet EDL but you were not really introduced to this man. You were not able to witness the talent this man possesses. This is the reason we are out here tonight. We want to show all you fans and non-believers that EDL is what we say he is --- and that is the best damn cruiserweight in the world today.”
Fans continued to jeer Raul.
“Why do you people boo this man? I can see why people think you Americans are idiots. You are showing your ignorance right now.”
Oh that did it. Now the fans were jeering very loudly now.
“This man comes all the way here from Mexico to show you what real wrestling is all about and you don’t appreciate it.”
GO HOME!!
GO HOME!!
GO HOME!!
GO HOME!!
Raul smiled as he looked out into the arena pointing his cane at the fans at ringside.
“That’s what you ignorant fools would like for us to do right. But that will not be the case. EDL has told me that if he comes to St. Louis then he wants to wrestle. He doesn’t want to sit in the back and watch action. He wants to be the action. So tonight EDL has something important to say to you fans and the wrestlers in the back.”
Raul hands the microphone to EDL. Before El Dragón Loco could even speak he got those familiar chants from last week.
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
EDL put the microphone to the lip of his mask.
"Estoy de aquí hacer una cosa sólo y eso es lucha y gana el campeonato de peso semipesado de nBW. He hecho mi nombre en México y por todo el mundo. Pero esta noche yo le mostraré por qué yo conquistaré América".
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
ENGLISH
"Tan si cualquiera de esos llamados peso semipesado en la espalda tiene las pelotas para dar un paso en el anillo conmigo entonces lo causa. Le mostraré por qué ellos me llaman el maniaco suicida".
EDL hands the microphone back to Raul.
“If you fools didn’t understand what EDL just said. He is challenging any cruiserweight in the back to a match. So come on nBW cruiserweights we are waiting.”
The crowd calmed down to a little lull as the fans looked at the stage waiting for someone to come down to shut EDL’s mouth up.
The high-strung energy of 'Ready' from the Japanese sensation Folder 5 gave way to the arrival of the equally energized Zatch Rollins. He rushed to the left side of the stage and through his arms high before rushing to the right side to do the same as the fans cheered for the California-raised Japanese superstar. He then turned his attention to the ring and with a series of flips and handsprings he landed on the outside apron. A microphone was handed to him and he then directed his focus to EDL and his manager.
"You guys. You know. These fans, they like a English. I know I not the best speaker to say to you this. Unlike you tho I earn respect here. You. You not."
The fans cheered as he smirked from behind his mask.
"Nemo want fight you. I say no. I cruiser. Nemo injured too much for match so I take you on. Challenged accept."
He sprung over the rope and handed the mic to the referee.
|
|
|
| El Dragón Loco | Versus |
Zatch Rollins |
|---|---|---|
| Cruiserweight Match | ||
Rollins stood in the ring motioning for EDL to step into the ring but the Mexican superstar took his time which got the fans in an up roar. The ref finally slid in the ring as Raul spoke something to EDL in Spanish.
The masked wrestler made his way into the ring as the ref asked for the bell.
DING… DING… DING
Rollins went after EDL but the masked man side stepped Rollins and started to nail him with swift kicks to the legs and midsection. EDL continued the onslaught which sent Rollins back to the ropes. EDL grabbed Z and whipped him into the ropes. Rollins bounced off the ropes and nailed EDL with a dropkick that got cheers from the fans. EDL got back to his feet but was sent in the corner with a thrust kick from Rollins. The man also known as Z raced into the corner and nailed EDL with a sickening knee strike. Zatch let EDL fall out of the corner and quickly hooked his leg for the cover.
ONE..
KICKOUT!!
EDL was not going down that quickly. Zatch picked up EDL and slammed him back down to the mat. Rollins picked up EDL again and whipped him into the corner. He raced into the corner with a handspring back elbow but EDL was waiting for him. He caught Zatch from behind and quickly turned it into a belly to back suplex. There was no wasted motion with EDL as he sprung to the top rope and nailed Rollins with a Vuelo de dragon - Asai moonsault. EDL went for a pin.
ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT!!
Rollins still had fight in him. EDL picked up Rollins and drove him into the mat with a DDT. He grabbed Rollins and looked at Salazar before sending the kid over the top rope to the floor. Rollins fell at Salazar’s feet as the ref warned Raul. EDL went over to the ropes but the ref tried to keep him back. This gave Salazar the opportunity he needed as he took the cane and drove it into Rollins midsection. Then the manager took Rollins and rammed him back first into the guardrail.
He quickly backed away from Rollins as the ref turned around to see what was going on. EDL looked at Rollins as the ref was about to start the ten count. But before the ref could do that EDL had flipped over his back to the floor landing on Rollins with a flipping back senton splash.
ONE…
TWO…
Some fans jeered as others started to cheer the high flying action from EDL. Raul came over to help his young wrestler to his feet. EDL stood near Rollins looking up at the ref.
THREE…
FOUR…
FIVE…
EDL rolled into the ring to break the count. He rolled back out to the floor and watched as Rollins was getting to his feet. EDL sprang onto the guardrail.
HURRICANRANA TO THE FLOOR
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
EDL held his mask as Raul kept giving him encouragement. The masked man finally got to his feet. He picked up Rollins who looked like he had no idea what just hit him and threw him into the ring. EDL stood on the apron waiting for Z to get to his feet. Rollins staggered to his feet as EDL came off the top rope.
OHH MY GAWD!!
The fans looked shocked as EDL caught Rollins with a springboard DDT that planted Zatch into the ring like a spike. EDL was going to go for the pin but Raul pointed to the top rope again. There was a reason why this man is a suicidal maniac.
Raul wanted EDL to inflict more pain on this cruiserweight. EDL slowly pulled Rollins into the corner. He picked up Z and placed him on the top rope backwards. The fans still looking on not knowing what this man was going to do next. EDL climbed to the top rope. What came next shocked all the fans in nBW as EDL flipped over Zatch and drove him off the top rope with a big power bomb.
Raul smiled as the jeers started to het deafening now. Raul didn’t want a win; he wanted to hurt this cruiserweight.
EDL positioned Rollins near the corner as he sprung to the top rope again. The Mexican wrestler looked down at Rollins before coming off the top rope.
THE ELL DROP – SHOOTING STAR LEG DROP
Raul raised his cane in the air as EDL went for the cover on Rollins. The ref dropped down for the cover.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
It was finally over. EDL had one his first match in nBW by dominating Zatch Rollins.
Looks like the cruiserweight in nBW better take notice. This guy is for real. Raul climbed into the ring and raised EDL’s arm as the fans jeered the two men.
Great start for EDL in nBW on his way to the nBW Cruiserweight title.
| Winner by Pinfall, El Dragón Loco! |
|---|
| Checking in with Special K |
|---|
Keegan was alone in a dark room, watching TV. The curtains were open and it looked like it was going to rain. The former superstar was sat upright, staring into space with his big right hand nursed against his chin in thoughtful mood. His trance was broken by the arrival of a doctor with his customary clipboard.
“How are you doing, sir?”
The Englishman ignored him and bit his nails. The doctor, a patient individual, persisted: “Keegan, I know…”
Special K turned to him and cut the poor man off: “You know nothing doctor. I bet not many people tell you that, do they? Sure, you know about bodies, diseases, conditions, medicine and surgery. You’re great at that. You’ve got the hardest but best job in the world. You have, I’ll always say that. The reward of helping people must be amazing. Is it?”
A nod gave the injured import his answer: “It is.”
Keegan nodded to himself: “I thought it was. But your feeling is probably a sweet one, one that touches you inside, not an adrenaline rush. You see what I do, what I did, was I went out and entertained people. My job was far less important than yours but the feeling I had wasn’t one of content or relief… it was one of exhilaration. As you stand behind the curtain, you’re literally shaking with nervous and excitement. The music hits and people react to you, the rush kicks in. It’s more powerful than anything you’ve given me, any doctor has ever prescribed to me or any of the other stuff I’ve dabbled with. That’s my life-saving moment.”
The doctor tried to be encouraging: “Well, never say never. At the moment, let’s focus on your recovery…”
“You’re trying to keep my spirits up and I understand that. But you along with everyone in here knows my career is over. Or you THINK it’s over. I’ll tell you something Doc. We say never say never in our business and you really can’t. The difference here is you think it’s never going to happen for me again. I’m not sure but as a man of thirty-five, almost thirty-six, I’ll tell you now I’ll do anything and everything I can to step into the ring one last time. ANYTHING. I said goodbye to my fans last month just in case… but I haven’t said goodbye properly.”
“Keegan, I’m like you. I can’t say right now. I don’t want to give you a false promise nor do I want to crush your dreams. All I can say is that you need to rehabilitate yourself, not for your career, but for your life. Rehabilitation is something we can’t predict but depending on how it goes, you could wrestle again. If it doesn’t go well, you may never heal properly. You need to go through with it.”
The broken-down fighter turned away from the doctor and stared back into space: “I will do it doctor. Just give me time. For now, please leave me in peace. We’ll talk in the morning.”
With that, the doctor left as he was asked to and Keegan stood up and moved over to the curtains to draw them close. He meant what he said to the doctor. He needed his peace. He needed to block out every distraction. He needed to be boxed in.
But just as rain began to beat down on the garden outside, Keegan's eyes narrowed. He thought he saw something out in the garden. Or rather, someone. An individual he hadn't seen in ages.
An individual he had come to know a long time ago, when he was just starting out in a little place called... TFZ.
"B-Brian?" Keegan mouthed, the insides of his mouth going dry.
Special K took one step back, unable to fathom what his vision was presenting to him. "That can't be you, Brian. Why here? Why now? Besides, I thought you were a dead man.
More importantly, I thought we were done with our business."
The sound of a man clearing his throat snapped Keegan back to reality. He slowly turned around, brows furrowed.
"Hello, Mr. Keegan. I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
Special K cocked his head sideways. "As a matter of fact, you are. Who are you?"
The visitor took one timid step forward, using a handkerchief to dab the sweat off his forehead. "Ah, right. My name is Simon Blythe. ESQUIRE. I-I am an agent in your chosen field of industry; I'm currently plying my trade in SlySports Entertainment LLC, which you may or may not know is working in conjunction with... All-Star Championship Wrestling."
"Oh. ACW. My, that... that is a blast from the past." Keegan commented softly. He sat back down in his rattan chair, scratching the side of his cranium with his right hand. All the while, Simon Blythe watched nervously for any sign of an violent outburst from Keegan.
Keegan thought back to his short spell in ACW, in the later months of 2003. He thought about Quinton May, and the Scorpion Fighting Title, and what Keegan did with Quinton's... son. Inevitably, Keegan began to remember Vincent Pembridge, that soddin' maniac. And when Vincent popped into his head, memories of TFZ came flooding back.
"That couldn't have been Brian." Keegan muttered to himself.
Simon Blythe's ears were sharp. "I'm sorry. Brian?"
"Nothing. What do you or SlySports want with me?" Keegan queried, rising to his feet once more.
Blythe picked up a hint of rudeness in Keegan's tone. He had anticipated that. "Perfectly wonderful question, Mr. Keegan. The answer is rather simple. I am an agent to the stars, yet I currently do not represent anybody. Hence, I believe that our union will be a rather natural one. My superior, Mr. Jeremy Hunt, values talent that operate at an extraordinary talent. You are such an individual, and therefore, the rewards that lie in your future... will be immense."
Keegan folded his arms across his broad chest. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
"If you permit me to ask one more question; how exactly did you get wind of my current whereabouts?" Keegan posed, speaking as slowly as he possibly could, as if he was chosing the words he was putting out very carefully.
Simon Blythe began to feel a tad bit uneasy. "I, ah, got that information from a fine gentlemen that works with you in NBW; a Mr. Biron Sexton. Incredible man, that Sexton. A visionary, some might say."
Keegan chewed on that answer. Then, he nodded his head exactly two times.
POW~!
Then, he knocked out Simon Blythe with a single uppercut.
"Thank you kindly for your visit. But I'm not interested." Keegan surmised with a sneer.
Not too bad for a man feared crippled a while back, eh?
tbc
| We'll see |
|---|
Trent McKnight caught up with Showtime, making last-minute preparations for the 10-to-1 match.
"Oh hey Trentz0rz," Showtime said to the interviewer, "I thought you were fired for that intern scandal."
"Nothing of the kind happened, Showtime. I was wondering if I could get your thoughts on the 10-to-1 match. You've been very dedicated to the cause of the Dynasty Tag Championships lately. If you win the title, how will this affect your future with D-T?"
Showtime paused a second and replied, "Trent, in case you hadn't heard, D-T is bigger than just me and Proteus now. FTW is officially, for all administrative purposes, under the D-T tent. If and when they defeat DW, D-T will hold the Dynasty Tag Championships, as is our right. And with me as the World Champion, the four of us will be an unstoppable force in nbW, that neither Dark Ninja nor any other challenger will be able to overthrow."
"What about Proteus? How does he feel about your designs on the highest honor in nbW?"
"Well see, there's a common misconception that the success of Showtime is the end of D-T. That's not the case, Trentypants. D-T as an entity has been around far too long and accomplished far too much to be defined merely as a tag team or even now two tag teams. We aim for the Tag Championships because there's nothing that can stop us. And now that they've pointed me at the World Championship, I intend to claim that for us. Showtime's success will be D-T's success. After all, what kind of champion would I be if I didn't have anyone there to enjoy my victories with?"
"Yes," Trent answered, "But I seem to recall Proteus being in a similar situation not long ago. Proteus was quote-unquote, 'aimed at the World title,' and it wedged a pretty big crack in the solidarity of D-T's cause. How can you be sure that, as you claim, 'Showtime's success is D-T's success'?"
"Well," said Showtime, "As for Proteus, you can turn around and ask him yourself."
Trent turned to find Proteus practicing some Cat's Cradle with a length of string. "Oh hey Ptrent, I was wondering how long it'd be before you noticed me here. Eight minutes. That's longer than this segment so far!"
"My name's not Ptrent, it's just Trent."
"Is the P silent?"
"Proteus," Trent composed himself, "what do you have to say about Showtime's bid for the world championship?"
Proteus thought for a minute, then answered, "...Good luck, man."
The two tag partners shook hands and Proteus walked off, focusing on his Cat's Cradle. Trent turned back to Showtime and asked, "Showtime, what do you make of Dark Ninja's vow to interfere and cost you the 10-to-1 match and the title?"
Showtime smirked. "Dark Ninja's obsession with my career is positively perverse. One minute he says I'm nothing, the next it seems like nothing's more important than screwing with me. Talk about mixed messages. I have no problem letting him keep his scheming up, I'll fight him every inch of the way. The only reason we can't co-exist is that he won't let us. So as long as both of us are in nbW, we're going to be doing this, no matter how loudly he insists we aren't. So if he wants to interfere in the 10-to-1 match, keep me from winning? Let him. He'll be lucky if he gets a shot. With nine other guys in the match, what's one more thing to worry about?"
"Lastly," Trent said, "can you comment on your choice for a replacement in your 8-man tag match?"
"El Avestruz?"
"Yes... he's shown himself to be somewhat... inconsistent... in his mentality lately. He hired himself out as a Dark Ninja impersonator, and he's not typically thought of as a championship-level performer."
"Well, as far as El Avestruz' talents, I think he's underrated. Maybe he never has proven himself to be on the level with D-T, or FTW and DW. But he's got talent. He's quick, and he's got a strong arsenal. He's got the underestimation factor going for him. I'm excited to see El Avestruz perform in this kind of big match environment. Is he the right guy to replace Showtime? I don't think it matters. When you have three competitors as tough and formidable as FTW and Proteus, you could replace me with a Chihuahua named Philippe Cortez III and still have a great team."
"Yes, but what if El Avestruz's traitorous streak shows again and he sides with Dark Ninja?"
Showtime exhaled deep, and looking confident as usual, replied simply, "We'll see."
|
 |
|
| Johannes Antonious de Castonovo | Versus |
4CW's Man Mountain |
|---|---|---|
| TFZ Championship Match | ||
Johannes Antonious de Castonovo arrived to the Zone in his normal fanfare, before running down how he treated Simon Starks in his first ever defense and that nobody else could amount to him. He spoke in a mix of Italian, Spanish, German, and Slovak. Speaking in each dialect separately, catering to the fans that knew it, while also talking down the locker room should anybody happen to discover this fact, you have to wonder what outcome might follow.
He then called out anybody in the back and what he got was a 4CW decked out superstar. A massive one. MM, Man Mountain, which unfortunately most in the audience and watching at home were aware of thanks to David Buster and Jim Thomson earlier in the night. Nonetheless just the sight of the 450lb, six foot even human being gave an idea to what to expect.
The Adriatic Gargoyle started off with a series of jabs and punches, even a haymaker. The blog that was MM took it all and gave a powerful forward rush knocking the champion off his game to the ground. While JAC would then roll to get back up MM came down with a MASSIVE body splash, clearing all the air from the lungs of poor ol’ Johannes. Referee Chuck Radford started his count and reached a seven before JAC finally returned to a standing base. A series of kicks from him to the blubber of flesh would cause MM to kneel and get a sweet uppercut to the jaw.
But like all Sumo’s, he did not fall. MM charged again, SMACK, into Johannes, crushing him against the corner pole. And if we did not know better, that pole gave a little. JAC gasped for air as he slumped forward to the mat and the Man Mountain looked secured in victory. This would be a victory for the wrestler. A victory for the non-fighters. And a victory for 4CW if he managed to claim the TFZ Championship.
Not yet however. A the eight count Castonovo returned to his feet and drove his shoulders into the man blob. Pushing, pushing and pushing to get him to budge. When it all looked sour he seemingly gave up. His legs took a firm stance and he pushed forward again. His arms wrapped around the fat, and his hands seeking each other out clasped together. He heaved backwards, like deadweight the 450lbs raised from the ground and in an instant was dropped to the mat with quite possibly the loudest impact the Epic II or even the predecessor The Epic, Arena’s have Ever heard. The fans too were in amazement and started a holyshit chance at the feat accomplished as the arena may have just been knocked a few feet downwards in the base below them.
Radford despite the shock had started the fifteen count but at twelve the Man Mountain rose. Not quite gracefully but he rose. Johannes seemed shocked unsure what he could do to take the man down. He charged again and MM bounced him forward and caught him before Side Slam. Castonovo rolled out of the way of another splash attempt and this time instead of charging he walked across the ring, planted his feet and pulled back his fist. Gave MM a ‘come and get me’ look and MM charged across the ring, his hands out for the final blow.
JAC cocked back his arm, and upon a foot from him he fired forward, his arm and fist twisting at the same time, impacting the flesh, causing Man Mountain to stop in his tracks. Something was hit, something that had worked. Not wanting to allow him time to recover the Adriatic Gargoyle leapt upwards in the air and delivered a spinning back elbow to the side of MM’s head. MM wobbled before falling forward having been knocked out. Radford realized this and went for the count, meanwhile Castonovo was already grabbing his championship belt and waited for the fifteen to be up. Once it was, his victory secure he shot a smile at the fans and rolled back in the ring, laying the belt across his big belly.
JAC climbed up on the turnbuckle and soaked in the boo's and jeer’s as he jumped forward with both his feet planting down on the belt, into the massive blob of flesh. He retrieved the belt and rolled out of the ring, heading up the ramp not even giving a second glance back. Fans cheered, booed, and jeered at him as he left. His second defense was a success on SLAM, and after surmounting a Mountain, who would be able to stand in his way?
| Winner by 15 Count, Johannes Antonious de Castonovo! |
|---|
| Challenge |
|---|
clap clap clap
"Congratulations, Johannes. Well done on another victory!"
Having nearly reached the top of the ramp with his TFZ Championship hanging on his left shoulder, Johannes stopped and looked up at the man that had decided to make his presence felt. The fans cheered loudly; not because they cared particularly for this individual. No, they just had a feeling something was gonna go down.
And judging by the smile on the face of one Alexandre Michelle Pierre, perhaps something was.
Decked out in his wrestling gear, Alexandre raised his microphone to his lips: "Your second title defense was an impressive one, Johannes. I wrestled Man Mountain before in 4CW, during my very brieft stint there... but my victory over him was nowhere as comprehensive.
You, on the other hand, made it look EASY. But that's why you're the Fighting Zone's Champion, eh?"
Alexandre chuckled as he moved from his position on the stage towards Johannes. Within seconds, the two men were within inches of each other. JAC didn't look like he'd anticipated Alexandre's arrival, and was more than a little puzzled at AMP sneering at him with contempt.
"You know, it's been a whirlwind of a couple of months for me." AMP started up after the fans simmered down some. "Late last year, I signed a contract with 4CW, looking for something different. I've been in so many fighting leagues and kickboxing-esque promotions, I figured a traditional wrestling organisation was just what I needed.
Then in April of this year, NBW adopted 4CW as a development territory. By that time, I'd already added a new dimension to my repertoire of in-ring excellence. Still first and foremost a fighter, but I'd become a pretty good wrestler at the same time. I was proud. Happy. Elated when I got the call to square off against Elijah Buster on NBW programming, way back on SLAM! Episode III. I figured NBW's fanbase was big enough, that a win would open up doors.
The following episode, I got another great opportunity. I was given a shot to partake in a 15-Person Battle Royale. You remember that, don't you, Johannes? We were in that match together. It was a hell of a match.
One which I actually co-won with Keegan and Zed, as a matter of fact. A messy conclusion to a clusterfruss.
Nonetheless, my stock rose. And after the episode, Thaddeus Boyle approached me with an offer. A full-time NBW contract, as well as a reward for being one of the three winners of the Battle Royale. A reward which, as I've come to learn, has no strings attached. It's sort of a Golden Ticket, Johannes. Naturally, I was over the moon. I of course decided to seek Silverfox's blessing prior to accept the full-time NBW offer. He gave it to me, and told me to do what I do best.
And after taking some time off to enjoy the finer things in life... I've decided to follow that advice."
Johannes narrowed his eyes, just as the fans cheered again. They had an inkling of what AMP was hinting at. Especially when they caught on to Pierre's eyes transfixed on the title belt that Johannes had on his shoulder. Oh yeah, the almighty TFZ Championship.
Alexandre took another step forward, watching as Johannes flinched ever so slightly. "Here's the deal, Johannes.
I want a match with you on the next episode of SLAM! just for the fun of it. But to make it interesting, I would like to propose that we compete in a traditional wrestling match. I know you're now a fighting icon and you're enjoying being the new face of the new Fighting Zone. But frankly, I've been wondering about just who would win in a straight-up wrestling match between the two of us.
Call it an obsession if you will. My curiousity in TFZ has been piqued after watching your fights, and as a fighter myself, I can't think of anything more intriguing than the two of us in a wrestling match. So, what say you, eh?
Will you accept my humble offer, Johannes? Pretty please?"
Alexandre lowered his microphone and placed his free hand on his hip. Castonovo peered over his shoulder, at the structure known only as The Zone that now hung above the ring. He didn't know what AMP's game was, but as TFZ Champion... he had a reputation to uphold.
Hence, his answer was simple.
"Of course. It'll be my pleasure to beat you."
The fans cheered. Alexandre smirked. Johannes grinned smugly.
Neither man knew it, but this was the start of a beautiful rivalry. Oh yes, it was.
AMP backed up, pleased with the response. He had one last thing to say: "Excellent, Johannes.
... I'll see you when I see you."
Tell all your friends, kiddies -- Johannes versus Alexandre, on SLAM! Episode VIII. It'll be a slobbahknockah.
| disturbing |
|---|
fap fap fap
Jack Mongo, a diehard NBW fan, frowned as he turned on a tap at the sink in the de facto male washroom of The Epic II Arena. By all accounts, Jack thought he was alone when he entered the washroom. He'd even whistled to himself while expelling his bodily fluids.
Yet, there was now the strange fap fap sound, seemingly out of nowhere. Wetting his hands clumsily, Jack slowly turned off the tap and turned around, surveying the stall which had been closed. It was the only closed one.
"Funny. I thought it was open!" Jack mumbled to himself.
Just then, there was a slight moan to accompany the fap fap sound. Jack was freaked the hell out.
Especially when the door of the stall swung open, and out stumbled a man with his pants bunched up around his ankles, and his right fist clutching his... y'know, swollen member.
Jack grimaced. "Aw fuck, man. Are you masturbating?!"
"Who the fuck are you?" the man shot back, his eyes darting around. There was a photograph in his other hand.
Upon closer inspection, Jack's eyes widened. He recognised the face in the photograph. Unfortunately.
"Are you... are you jacking off to SPIKE SAUNDERS?!"
And that, thankfully enough, brought the end to the most disturbing segment in NBW history. Ho hum.
Time for TEN TO ONE!
| TEN | TO |
ONE |
|---|---|---|
| World Heavyweight Championship Match | ||
The first-ever 10 to 1 match was just moments away and one thing was absolutely certain…
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Ali Amore Height? 5' 10" Weight? 212 lbs Signature? Frogsplash |
| What does he bring into the match? » Ali's hot off a near one-year reign. He's been there before and feels he was robbed of winning the world title for a second time. » One of the quickest men in wrestling today, his lightning-like speed dazzles most opponents. » He isn't afraid to take a risk in order to win a match. He can also trade blows with big men. » His experience is growing and his strategy has 'smartened up' since his return against Torment last year. » Ali's win-loss record since returning to the nbW is immaculate. On record, he hasn't been pinned yet. What to watch out for? » Ali is still prone to 'blonde moments' inside the ring. While his risk-taking has been listed as a strength, it's also a weakness and sometime he's too eager to please. » Speed kills - his opponents, but Ali himself. In the 10 to 1 match, he'd better pace himself and pick his spots. » While he's a good puncher, he's not a powerhouse and the likes of Torment, Spike, Willis and SOM will take their toll on him - if they can catch him. » RaVage. He JUST CAN'T BEAT HIM! » Keegan's injury. The supposed retirement of his mentor is weighing heavily on his mind. Will he channel those feelings into a stellar performance or will it distract him from the task at hand? |
|
A new world champion would be crowned here on Slam, another first, given the new flagship’s recent history. Slam 3 had proven to be a false alarm as RaVage’s pinfall victory over Ali Amore was never recognised and Slam 5 couldn’t separate them either, Keegan’s fatal fall bringing a premature end to proceedings.
Which brings us to this.
Let’s get started.
Oh, sorry. I almost forgot. The rules…
It’s a gauntlet. Do you remember when you used to play pool with your friends and the stipulation was winner stays on? That’s what we’ve got here.
You can win by any of the normal methods. Disqualifications and count-outs do apply. So the winner of participants 1 and 2 will meet number three and so on after that.
Now, we’re ready to go.
Dean Martin’s soothing voice interrupted the chatter and got the fans on their feet as Brent Williams, the announcer, introduced the very first participant in the special offering’s history: “Ladies and gentlemen, the man who drew number one in tonight’s 10 to 1 match, hailing from Bogota, Colombia, is the last-recognised world champion… ALLLLI AMOOOORRRE.”
The Colombian walked out calmly and respectfully waved to the crowd. There was nothing spectacular about his entrance. The somersault was omitted and the reason was unclear, whether it was the magnitude of the match and the sheer misfortune of coming out first or whether the damage done to Keegan was weighing on his mind. Speaking of which, when the cameraman stood on the apron zoomed in on the youngster, he looked into it and had a message for his mentor: “Keegan, thank you for everything. This is for you.”
After stepping away, Ali bounced off the ropes and into the opposing set, throwing his right fist into the air to acknowledge the crowd’s adulation.
Steam Engine roared to life next as the former Blitzkrieg and World Champion pushed past the entrance wall to greet his not-so-loving fans. They booed him as he took his sweet time down to the ring. Ready to take care of Ali once and for all.
Marc Gordon said: “Somehow, it had to be. Fate has brought Ali Amore and RaVage together to FINALLY conclude their feud once and for all and there HAS to be a winner. Stay tuned to see which one of them it is following this commercial break.”
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? RaVage Height? 5' 9" Weight? 230 lbs Signature? V For Victory |
| What does he bring into the match? » Championship experience. RaVage proudly tells people he never lost the belt in the ring and knows what it's like to be the man in nbW - something he has over a lot of guys in tonight's battle. » Desire and determination to be the best. He has been there and recently, he has been single-minded and bloody-minded in his pursuit of Ali Amore and the gold. He literally craves what he feels is HIS championship. » Multi-dimensional. RaVage is strong despite his size, can move around the ring well and is technically proficient. He can wrestle and fight. He'll need to use all of his attributes and experience in this match, where there are so many different styles. What to watch out for? » Small size: RaVage is strong but he'll be overmatched by Spike, Willis and even SOM, who dominated him at last year's Memorial Day FE. » Ali Amore: They can't be split, hence why we're here. RaVage has pinned the Colombian but needed help from Willis and unfortunately it wasn't televised. » Last chance? RaVage can't be written off, as he was after his defeat to SOM. But, after failing to beat Ali in their meetings, fairly at least, can his rejuvenation continue? Will he do anything out of desperation? |
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nbW returned from the short interval as was RaVage staring up at Ali Amore, smirking, both proud warriors ready for combat in what would be their third battle in the space of five shows. Fittingly, it the two men who couldn’t resolve their championship conflict in two highly-charged title encounters that were going to kick us off here.
DING
DING
DING.
We were officially underway and what seemed to be the standard tie-up didn’t actually happen. Ali agreed to hook up but quicker than Boris Becker in a broom cupboard, was up behind RaVage and took control with a waistlock. From there, Amore managed to sweep Randy off his feet, though not in a romantic way, and kept Viscel within his grasp. Randy was struggling but just couldn’t break the Superstar of Bogotá’s grip. Finally, the South Dakota Dynamo got up to a vertical base and backed Amore up into a corner. The referee was just about to intervene when Randy incurred the disdain of the fans and the official himself by throwing an unforgiving elbow that connected just below the Colombian’s eye.
AA was nursing his pretty face, checking to see if his eye socket was still intact, but RaVage didn’t care and fired Amore into the opposite corner. However, the precocious prospect repaid Randy by catching him coming in with a boot to the face, which staggered the Human Steam Engine who had the spring speedily taken out of his step.
The audience exploded as Ali manhandled RaVage and turned him round, backing him up against the top turnbuckle and throwing bombs, seven stiff and lightning-like punches to the ribs and midriff. After he had finished, Viscel slumped down in the corner and the fans increased the volume. Ali remained focused on the task in hand and raised RaVage by grasping a chunk of his hair, virtually deleting Viscel’s teeth by taking a page from his trainer’s textbook and lashing RaVage with a couple of rock-solid European uppercuts.
Ali took a few steps back and then charged at his recent rival, pulling off a stunning stinger splash. As RaVage stumbled past Amore on the way out of his corner, Ali stopped him with a boot to the midriff and came off from the adjacent ropes with a beautiful bulldog.
Amore motioned to the top rope and didn’t even climb to the outside. He ran up the turnbuckles and was perched 10 feet in the air, barely, balanced perfectly with his hands in the air and the spectators standing up firmly in the palm of those outstretched mitts…
FROGSPLASH!
1
2
3.
Three minutes and a three-count.
Number three awaited Ali.
Rents: “I can’t believe it. Two previous meetings… stalemate. Tonight, he takes him out in a minute. Why couldn’t he have done that in the first place? Or the second place?”
Gordon had to, begrudgingly, agree with his broadcast partner: “You’re right and it seems that simple but it isn’t. Plus, I’ve never seen Ali Amore this fired up before. He’s got a lot of heart and determination, we know that from following his rise to the top, but tonight, he’s so tuned-in that it’s scary.”
In the meantime, Ali gently nudged RaVage out underneath the bottom rope, adding insult to elimination.
No music was apparent but the fans’ jeers told everyone that the third man was a villain…
The ultimate villain of this piece as it turned out.
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? John C. Willis Height? 6' 7" Weight? 323 lbs Signature? Lamb to the Slaughter |
| What does he bring into the match? » Size. At 6'7 and 323lbs, John isn't the biggest or even the 2nd largest man in this match but he's got a huge frame with little fat on it and he'll take some shifting. » Strength. In abundance. He has a power-based repertoire, mainly slams and suplexes. » Sadistic. All of the S words so far and we haven't even got to savage. John genuinely likes hurting people so he wears that horrible, ugly smile quite often in the ring. The previous two categories enable him to do exactly that. Look what he did to his half-brother. » Unknown quantity/unpredictability. Yes, the nbW faithful have seen him in action but have they seen the real John C. Willis? He's been in TFZ and tA, but that was years ago and where is he at right now, besides away with the fairies? His finishing move 'Lamb to the Slaughter' deserves its own category but given that nbW hasn't seen much of it yet, we'll include it here. What to watch out for? » Lack of mobility? John could move a little in his prime. We don't know whether he's past it or not but after a lay-off, it could be argued that the younger and quicker athletes may have joy against him if they stick and move, which they'll have to do. » Stamina. Once again, the lay-off and lack of matches since returning, only a couple of notable outings really, raise question marks over the big guy's stamina. Also, his size may work against him here. At 34, he isn't old but there are younger competitors in this match and at this stage of his career, he's only going to decline in this department. » No fear factor: In the past, Willis has lived off his 'bully' reputation. In nbW, he hasn't been able to physically dominate his opposition in a manner he would've liked or had done in the past. Therefore, why would anyone fear the Kokomo Colossus? Be wary of and respect? Yes. Fear? Not sure on that one. » He's a fighter, not a wrestler. Say Willis gets his hands on people, he'll destroy them. But he is prone to being tagged by the athletic performers and technical wrestlers, if they can figure a way in, may also expose his limitations. |
|
John C. Willis.
Ali turned his head to see the toothless grin of his trainer’s evil half-brother. Willis stands at 6’7 and 323lbs with little fat on his sizeable frame. He outweighed Amore by over 100lbs and as he stepped up onto the apron, still smiling, Ali pounced and attacked. He brought the behemoth in between the ropes and set about him, laying in with solid shots to the head and face, forcing the Kokomo Colossus to retreat and cover up. Ali wanted to attempt an Irish Whip but the beast hit the brakes, way too strong at this stage, and Amore showed aggressiveness previously unseen in him and rocked the ex-Spawned Terror with two stiff knees to the stomach. That gave the 4th Emergency Service the green light to try his whip but Willis elbowed him square in the face and Ali, who was visibly dazed, wandered straight into the giant’s clutches…
Belly-to-Belly.
1
2
Near-fall. On his knees, Willis clapped three times whilst smiling at the referee, who showed him two fingers, keeping a healthy distance throughout, and Renton quipped:
“That’s why this match is called Ten to One – Ali hit Willis 10 times and still could only ruffle the big man’s feathers. On the other hand, one solid elbow by John and Ali was hung-over.”
As Ali started to stir, Willis helped him up and then slapped on a bearhug and reaffirmed his power, in case Amore didn’t already know, putting the squeeze on the South American starlet. Eventually, aided by the audience, Amore drew energy from the crowd but the Kokomo Colossus stopped him in his tracks, upping the ante and unrelenting in his vice-like possession of his long-term enemy’s protégé.
Once again, the Colombian fed off the crowd’s energy and rallied back. Out of nowhere, he used a bell clap, which took the titanic Willis by surprise and broke the bear hug, just like that. Eager to convert the half-chance, Ali ran towards John, but the behemoth used his opponent’s momentum against him and planted him with an emphatic powerslam…
1
2
No.
John didn’t question the referee’s claim this time. He was too focused on Amore and it was his time, the animal, to put baby, I mean Ali, in the corner. Willis punished the kid with two knife-edge chops. He then whipped him into the ropes and met him in the middle with a strong lariat. Coming off the ropes, adding insult to injury, John splashed Ali…
1…
2…
NO.
Now, that was close and John was questioning the count again. He wasn’t smiling either and the official almost left the ring out of fear.
Frustrated, the former Fighting Zone champion did depart, nowhere near the official fortunately, and walked towards the timekeeper, who disappeared on seeing the artist formerly known as Spawned Terror coming towards him, like any sane, normal human being would.
The bully took the steel chair and headed inside, evil intentions in mind, and brushed past the referee who tried to plead with him, though that fell on deaf ears…
CRACK.
DING.
That was Willis smacking the South American in the forehead with the chair as he stood up, only to be emphatically put back on his behind.
The second sound was surely Willis’ near-certain disqualification.
At this point, he didn’t care and rammed the seat down into Ali’s sternum not once, but twice. The referee called for the bell again and this time, Willis did chase the man in the middle out. The beast was barking at Ali to ‘GET UP’ and courageously, the Colombian stood up, holding his ribs, though not as much as he would be literally a second later…
A second chair shot.
With Ali keeled over, though still on his feet, Willis brought the steel chair back down on Amore’s neck and that flattened the youngster, who was now sprawled out. John gloated as the spectators voiced their disapproval. He raised his arms in the air and that only incensed everyone even more. He pointed at a few in the front row and told them to ‘SHUT UP.’ He was just about to leave, but he paused and then turned back, looking down at the poor, laid-out import.
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Showtime Height? 6' 1" Weight? 219 lbs Signature? Standing Ovation |
| What does he bring into the match? » He's been one of nbW's most celebrated stars since his arrival in 2006. » Years as the tag team champion have taught him well in combating multiple opponents of different styles. » His flashy, innovative technique will surely take the other competitors by surprise. What to watch out for? » May have trouble keeping his head in the game, having concentrated on Dark Ninja these past few weeks instead of this match » With no tag team partner to rely on, will he be out of his depth? |
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Marc Gordon: “Oh, COME ON! Don’t you think Ali’s suffered enough?
He was going to leave the fans who’d booed him something to remember him by. Effortlessly, he hoisted Amore up into the air and held him there, the fans hoping AA would somehow find a way to sneak out of it, but Ali was, quite simply…
LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER!
John’s wicked and reckless Canadian Backbreaker.
He flipped the fallen ex-champion off, the youngest man in the match, and then turned to the crowd and repeated the feat. He left, disgracefully, not that he cared and he took his chair with him, no apparent reason in mind but you never know with John C. Willis.
Backstage, it showed EMTS getting the stretcher ready for the ex-champion, who’d been well and truly pole-axed.
A buzzer sounded to indicate the arrival of the next participant in this all-important gauntlet match…
Steve Tyler’s distinctive voice, this theme being ‘Draw The Line’ told everyone that it was…
SHOWTIME!
The popular performer emerged and came running out. The D-T member was well-received as he entered the battle for the big belt, one that he, like everyone else in the locker room, craved. He shrugged his shoulders and covered a motionless Amore…
1…
2…
You didn’t think he was going to recover, did you?
3.
Just as the Maltese national anthem marked the halfway point with the arrival of Son of Malta, the nbW cameras stopped rolling for three minutes to go for a short break.
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Son of Malta Height? 6' 2" Weight? 250 lbs Signature? The Maltese Cross |
| What does he bring into the match? » A Mediterranean flavour » A Violent past which led him not to be afraid of anything » The chance to emulate his mentor and friend William Arthur Reagan » A combination of technical moves with a small amount of high flying make him a deadly combination What to watch out for? » His temper sometimes gets the better of him and that will easily get him into trouble » He needs to be careful of the big guys like Torment and Willis cos they will use a lot of their strength and his body is weak compared to them » Reversal of The Maltese Cross can easily cause him the loss since he's cocky enough to believe that nobody will come out of the Maltese Cross, and thus if someone reverse it or comes out then he will get distracted |
|
Following the conclusion of the commercial break, viewers saw the snapshot of Ali Amore being hauled onto a stretcher before Son of Malta was allowed to enter the fray. Marc Gordon at ringside speculated when fans would next see Amore, who ironically was last carried out after a meeting with the latest entrant, SOM.
Fans were wondering what the Leader of the Showtime Generation was doing, but he answered any critics when it appeared he was going for a tie-up. The elusive Ontarian beat ‘Son’ to the punch, literally, with a blow to the breadbasket that had next to no effect but coming off the ropes, he was determined not to be denied…
Clothesline by Son of Malta.
A nonchalant cover led to barely a one count but Showtime was suffering and trying to shake the cobwebs loose. Once again, Showtime seemed intent on a test of strength, luring SOM in, who was more than willing, but just as they were about to lock up, the master of the Standing Ovation shot through the pride of Malta’s legs and by the time the import turned round, Showtime finally hurt him with a kick to the abdomen and then took him over with a smooth snap suplex, which only extracted a one count, but it was better than being on the receiving end.
SOM was pissed off, and Showtime definitely had his attention. ‘Son’ pushed his opponent but the Toronto native wasn’t one to eat shit so he returned the compliment. The Malteser missed with a wild clothesline. Showtime brought up and down again with an inverted clothesline and with SOM nursing his lower half, the superstar in the making came back off the ropes with interest and scored with a lariat of his own…
1
Still only a one count but ‘Son’ was slower than Showtime anticipated in getting up off his feet. This gave the 219-pound entertainer the opportunity to go outside and ascend the turnbuckles, which he did and was now balanced on, just waiting to strike…
Missile Dropkick connects.
2
The first 2-count of this match within a match. Showtime deducted that if SOM was slow in getting up from a 1-count, the 2-count meant he could return to the well. It wasn’t that Son of Malta was particularly slow; it was that the man he was up against was nimble, athletic and explosive. This time, Showtime moved to the turnbuckles adjacent to the previous ones where he’d connected. Again, he waited for the European to get to his feet…
Big mistake.
Son of Malta had expected it and caught the cruiserweight in mid-air…
Fallaway Slam.
1..
2…
Only 2. They were one-apiece in 2-counts now. Son of Malta brought Showtime up by the chin and then put him back where he found him with a clubbing forearm to the back. Standing over Showtime, he utilised all of his weight to come crushing down on the Original Spectacle’s spine. Thereafter, he poured more punishment on using axe handle after axe handle, rather like the man with that particular name used to do so quickly and effectively for Demolition once upon a time.
Son of Malta shouted something out in his native language, which drew boos from the crowd, and pulled Showtime’s head between his legs, effortlessly and magnificently elevating the cruiserweight into the air for a powerbomb…
Or what seemed to be one. You see, Showtime was fighting with everything he had to ensure ‘Son’ wouldn’t complete this transaction, raining down with fists on the powerhouse’s forehead. ‘Son’ swivelled and turned round, facing the commentary desk side, and even elevated Showtime further into the air, but it made no difference because as he was about to drop him, the more agile participant somehow negotiated a head scissors which took both men over the top rope and down to the floor in a heap.
‘Son’ recovered first and broke the referee’s count at six by placing his just underneath the apron. The timekeeper, who had managed to find a spare seat earlier, now lost this one as SOM borrowed a page from Willis’ playbook. The official came running out of the ring and faced Son of Malta, advising him not to do this or he’d be disqualified. Showtime, who had now recovered and was standing next to the steel post, resting his back on it and trying to get a breather, seemed ripe for the pickings. ‘Son’ stupidly ignored the referee and ran towards Showtime…
SMASH!
“HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT,” was the cry of the crowd.
Showtime had seen it coming, remember what I told you about his clear advantage in agility and speed…
He had rocked Son of Malta with a SPINNING HEEL KICK, ASSISTED BY THE STEEL CHAIR.
Nearby, you could see the two commentators standing up, both for different reasons. Rents complained: “The referee warned Son of Malta that he’d disqualify him and he didn’t even use the chair! Where’s the justice?”
Gordon responded with: “You reap what you sow,” and he was right. The referee must’ve adjudged that Showtime was acting in self-defence,
Showtime stood up again and rolled back into the ring. SOM was knocked out and a camera close-up revealed he was also bleeding profusely. The official counted again and was up to 7 when ‘Son’ started to stir and even think about returning to the ring. At that point, Showtime, a former world champion a decade ago and who has dreamed about returning to the summit ever since, came out after ‘Son’ and the team of Gordon and Renton debated whether this was a wise idea or not.
They were proven right. The moment Showtime approached ‘Son’ he was driven back into the ring apron three times, each occasion with more venom and velocity than its predecessor. SOM then threw his antagonist; remember the two do have history together, back into the ring like he was a rag doll.
Some people were spooked by what SOM did next. He smeared his face with his own hands so he had blood on them. He looked down at them, a wild look in his eyes, like he was ready to maim Showtime, who was just getting up, unbeknownst to what awaited him. Son of Malta barked in his own language, which I guess if translated would mean ‘Come on’ or ‘Get up.’
He got his wish…
Cobra clutch.
If you thought Showtime had been treated like a rag doll earlier, you should have seen this. He struggled but he needn’t have as ‘Son’ tossed him from side to side, displaying his considerable strength. The official asked the Original Spectacle if he wanted to give up but the Ontarian was fading so fast he couldn’t answer the query. Back on Memorial Day, Son of Malta had treated RaVage with no regard and had beaten him with the slam variation of this same move. You had to wonder if that was what he had in mind for Showtime.
Whether it was intentional or unintentional, Showtime slumped to his knees, seemingly straying from the land of the living and dipping into a state of unconsciousness. SOM remained upright and shouted at the referee, who didn’t understand, but knew he had to check the Canadian’s arm. Showtime’s arm stayed up at the first attempt but now on his feet, it appeared he should have remained on the floor as ‘Son’ lifted him up into the air, by his throat with the move applied…
1
2
NO! NO! NO!
That wasn’t Son of Malta connecting with the slam or else it would have been the final curtain, pardon the pun, for Showtime. No, the innovative Canadian had taken heed from his countryman Bret Hart’s past exploits and high-profile victories over Roddy Piper and Steve Austin respectively, using Son’s own momentum against him, almost beating SOM with the counter, until the import released the hold in order to avoid pinning himself.
Showtime wanted some distance and got it, but he also wanted to get this over and done with so he ran back at SOM, who smartly kicked him in the left leg as he was coming in. He’d done his homework after all. Two kicks to the knee and shin area confirmed that and suddenly Showtime was being reminded of his weakness.
Son of Malta had found it and delighted in exposing it. He planted an elbow to the inside of the leg and then dragged Showtime into the middle of the ring…
Marc Gordon: “In the United States, we call this the Reverse Texas Cloverleaf but in Malta, they know it was the Maltese cross because of this man.”
The small nation’s biggest export had his signature move cinched in. There was nowhere to go for Showtime, except home it seemed. However, the former UEW champion, who tasted singles glory for the only time in 2003, refused to give up. No, he’d relinquished his spot in the main event for this. He owed it to himself and his partners to fight this.
Showtime never had to ask the audience to cheer for him. They would do that anyway, he had earned their respect. He started to move and arch his back, which had been worked on, and alleviate some of the pressure. Son of Malta’s confidence seemed to be wavering and he shook his head repeatedly, incredulous that the D-T star was defying the odds. The Maltese Cross had never been broken before but it was in great danger of happening here as Showtime raised his legs and back further into the air and then…
YES!
He’d done it. Not only had Showtime broken the Maltese cross but he’d reversed it and had his own version of the Boston Crab applied but by the time it really set in, SOM was reaching for the bottom rope.
The official separated them but SOM took a shortcut when they came back together and kicked Showtime in the stomach and fired him into the buckle. Possibly out of desperation, SOM took off, no longer sure of himself and ran into a turnbuckle, not for shits or giggles or even good TV, but because he had hoped to squash Showtime. However, the tag-team specialist avoided contact just before he became the proverbial bug and then floored the Islander with a picture-perfect dropkick when SOM turned round to garner a two-count.
Showtime tried to assist SOM up and set ‘Son’ up for an arm wringer, but the European import buried a hard knee, though he didn’t fully connect with it and Showtime’s momentum took Son of Malta with him into a roll-up…
1
2
Not quite. Both men were back up and an irate Islander was poised to behead Showtime but the quicker and more agile performer was already two steps ahead of his competition, bending down and cleverly grounding the powerful prospect with a drop toe-hold, which led into a smart and dead-centre…
STF.
Rightfully so, the audience applauded for Showtime’s exquisite example of chain wrestling, immaculate mat work, and not only that but he’d rounded it off by trapping SOM in an STF and ‘Son’ was feeling it, judging by his squeals and with claret dripping down his face and onto his upper torso.
Several times, the official asked SOM if he wanted to give up and ‘Son’ defiantly said no. After half a minute, he could no longer reply and upon teaching the powerhouse’s hand, ready to raise it, the referee realised ‘Son’ was unconscious and called for the bell.
Following a quick commercial break, Torment entered and Showtime went for him like a dog eyeing up a human leg. He pounded on the mammoth even as he stood on the apron and hammered him even more, backing him up into the corner, and Torment took everything Showtime could muster before calmly picking him up with one hand and chucking him into the corner…
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Torment Height? n/a Weight? n/a Signature? Rule of Three |
| What does he bring into the match? » Power. If there is one thing known about Torment, it is that the monster is quite powerful in the ring. There has not been one single entity inside the nBW ring that he could not lift and drop with the Torment. » Mind Games. Former nBW superstar Alan Helms could tell you the tale of Torment's first rising, and the mind games he played on the fans as well as every superstar when it was finally revealed that he was no mere one man, but two. The other contenders had better be aware of this fact in case it repeats. » Darkness. Not entirely but as his identity remains a secret behind that cold hard mask, so does in fact his emotions and signals of pain. If he feels the end is near for his opponent, then the end is near. What to watch out for? » Speed. Torment may be able to take what is delivered however the speed will catch up to him. And with the right person, a victory may be right around the bend. » Rules. Asking Torment to stop at a ten count, or release a strangling choke hold is like asking a pilot to stop the plane. It won't happen. Disqualification is more than likely for this monster. » Focus. Is the World title really in his outset right now, or does he and the Harbinger have other plans in motion, with this series' as nothing more than a passing happenstance? |
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"Showtime may be forgetting about Dark Ninja's pledge to interfere... with Torment in the match, he's got bigger, more pressing concerns!" stated Gordon.
Renton replies, "Yeah, but you can tell he's only got one eye on his opponent, trying to keep a look out... you can see his timing's off! If he makes one mistake, he's done!”
There was no fury but there was plenty of force as Torment peppered Showtime’s ribs and internal organs with big-time rights and lefts. Thereafter, he manhandled the Canadian again throwing him halfway across the ring via a hip toss. Unwilling to stay down, but maybe not thinking straight, Showtime got back to a vertical base and then lost it again as he ran into a big boot…
1
2
Kickout. Torment was already taking his toll on Showtime, like he would with anyone on the roster. The mysterious giant then picked his poor victim up and hoisted him up into the air for a vertical suplex and a subsequent two count.
Showtime, not of his own accord, was up again and Torment drove a hard forearm across the back and held the Original walking down the aisle. The masked skyscraper was a former nbW world champion, who wasn’t allowed to enjoy his success, a bit like Showtime, who didn’t take his eyes off the big man.
Spectacle up, only to drop him with a…
Chop block?
Sorry for being presumptuous. Showtime had avoided that almighty right hand at long-last and the last possible second, ducking underneath and cleverly going downstairs, though rather than falling down like a redwood, Torment hobbled and stayed on his feet. A dropkick downstairs, however, and that was enough to send the near seven-footer to the canvas for the first time in this bout.
Showtime’s submission work had seen off SOM to get here. Could it work on Torment? We were about to find out as he tried to turn the titan over and put him in a Boston Crab. They were already near the ropes so the first attempt resulted in Torment kicking Showtime off easily and the Original Spectacle bouncing off the ropes, his momentum taking him back into the path of Torment who, before Showtime even gripped his legs, did it again and this time it did send the tag team specialist up, over and out.
Well, almost. You see, he was clutching the bottom rope and about to skin the cat. Torment hoisted him up onto his shoulder and you could hear the crowd gasp and then let out a sigh of relief as Showtime slipped out of the door…
STANDING OVATION!
BLOCKED!
Torment swivelled Showtime around by his leg, up in the air like a whore, and nailed him with a massive lariat instead.
1
2
He was still in this and the fans were firmly behind him. Kneeling down, Showtime struck first with two uppercuts but they had little effect on the ex-titleholder. The Original Spectacle then grabbed the leg, rather like Hogan did in the past; hanging on for dear life trying to take the titan down but he merely leaned over and punched Showtime repeatedly in the back until he was forced to release his grip. He was then left crumpled up after tasting Torment’s size-fuck-knows to the mouth.
Torment picked Showtime up and put him into the ropes but lowered his head and was rightfully rewarded for his naivety in the shape of a neckbreaker. The count was on but Torment sat up at 4. Showtime started to crawl seconds later. When Torment picked him up, everyone thought he was there for the taking but the D-T captain, though not tonight, had other ideas by targeting the leg again and following it up with a DDT!
They were down again and the count was on again until Showtime draped an arm across the heavily-beating chest…
1
2
2 and a half count. Gordon was excited: “Showtime is still going here. He took the decision to miss the main event to be here and while it’s all uphill, he refuses to lie down, refuses to lose and refuses to give up on his dream, a seven-year itch he believes needs to be scratched and believes that tonight could be the night just to do it.”
As neither athlete had moved since, the count was up to 5 when Showtime stood up and looked down at Torment, who was only just starting to move. The Canadian suddenly thought: Why not?
He was going to attempt a suplex, which was wrong on so many fronts, least of all because of his bad back and it was hardly surprising when he tended to it after trying to lift Torment, who then made matters worse by showing Showtime how it’s done and using his own idea on him and that got another 2.
Torment screamed something inaudible and grabbed Showtime by the throat. He shook his head and just as the mammoth lifted him into the air, Showtime got his feet to touch the floor again by elbowing the massive enigma twice in the cranium and then sealing the deal with a tasty Russian Legsweep, but that was only enough – yes, you’ve guessed it – to warrant a 2 count.
Showtime had had enough. He was daring, willing, hungry and ready to capitalise. He’d missed, not by much, with his patented Standing Ovation earlier but with the giant down, he was going to try his luck outside and ensure, at least for tonight, it was Torment’s final curtain.
The Toronto native was up on the top rope and the fans weren’t seated either. Rather like Ali Amore earlier, everyone wanted to see what would happen here and they wanted a similar outcome. If Showtime could connect, he’d be in the second half of this gruelling gauntlet match.
SPLASH!
He’d hit his trademark Moonsault!
Wait…Why isn’t anyone cheering?
He connected with canvas as Torment managed to roll out of the way. Now, his back, left leg and ribs all ached. The titan knew he’d had a lucky escape and with a kick to the sternum decided he had to act…
POWERBOMB…
Showtime didn’t have the nous nor energy to counter it, like he had with SOM earlier…
SECOND POWERBOMB…
AND A THIRD!
They were the words of Marc Gordon as Torment folded Showtime up and leaned down on him with all of his body weight to complete the pinning predicament…
One.
Two.
Three.
As fans were brought back to on-screen events, they heard Lady Gaga’s ‘Pokerface.’
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is she? Callie Urban Height? 5' 4" Weight? 120 lbs Signature? Gentrification |
| What does she bring into the match? » The fast talking, business tycoon finds herself back in familiar territory, once again running amok with best friend and fellow nbW legend, the giant Spike Saunders. Hot off a massive run in fWo that saw her win not just the Cruiserweight title, not just the Tag Team title but the Hardcore title as well, and a run in ACW as co-tag team champion with Saunders, Callie is back in nbW, looking for the one elusive title she never got a chance to wear. World title gold. » Known for her seemingly inhuman endurance and resiliency, Callie can back up her talk in the ring with her martial arts background and in ring speed. » Plus, it never hurts to have a giant for a best friend. A giant that is just as much of a strategizer as she is. What to watch out for? » The neck. Her achilles heel, her once broken neck is her greatest weakness. » Do not, we repeat, DO NOT punch her in the boob. Just ask RaVage how that turns out. |
|
Terry piped up: “Uh-oh. It’s Callie Urban, Gordon. Callie Urban.”
Callie Urban is a top-notch performer and one of the greatest superstars in nbW. She was the first ever individual to hold both the Dynasty and Keystone titles and only a broken neck and perhaps management held her back from accomplishing her ultimate goal and winning the world title. Could she upset the applecart and do it tonight?
First, she’d have to get past a man who outweighed her by 150 % and stood a staggering seventeen inches taller than her.
Ding.
The two started to circle and Callie, straight off the bat, tried to slap Torment but she couldn’t quite reach him. Torment came forward, possibly encouraged by her misjudgement, but it proved to be one on his part as she stunned him with a kick to the knee and then wound him up with a back hander that the Mafia would be proud of. That only served to enrage the monster, who made a lunge for her but also made him look stupid, as he side-stepped him and followed up with a kick to the back of the left leg. When he turned round, she’d already rotated 360 degrees and was now face-to-face with him again.
She beckoned him to come forward and he did but she decided to pass on the tie-up and hit him in the kidneys with repeated punches. Just as he was about to squat her like a fly, she moved into the corner and when he tracked her down, Urban waited for him to swing with a lariat that missed and then she mounted the man mountain…
One
Two
Three…
No, she hadn’t won. She’d managed to get three punches in before he brushed her off. However, Urban remained undeterred and tried again.
One
Two…
The same result. Torment shoved her off and she almost landed on the other side of the ring. Callie was determined though and went back for some more…
Only to receive a size-God-knows to the mush and that took the wind completely out of her sails. Like he did with Showtime in the early part of their encounter, he hauled Urban up and then hung her out to dry with a vertical suplex, which got a two-count.
With no regard, he then tossed her through the ropes like a dart and she connected with the steel ring post, shoulder-first. Callie seemed to be in great pain and didn’t move until Torment had had enough of her just lying there and gave her a toe-punt in the ass and pulled her hair back, only to drop a fearsome forearm across her neck, which was her real weak point, given that she suffered a broken one a few years back.
Torment made a sloppy cover but it still brought about a 2, which was more than it deserved. You could see Urban already suffering as the 6’9 powerhouse lifted her up again and Callie’s eyes rolled as if to say ‘here we go again.’ She was right.
The enigma softened her up with two jabs that sent her into the corner, though she tried to fight back with another swift kick to his knee and a second one after he hesitated but an astonishing haymaker put an end to that, threatening to send her out of the ring completely. She stayed in, only just, but maybe wished she hadn’t as Torment constantly kicked her in the ribs and while she was sat down in the corner, hit her around the head and neck area with three blows that made most wince just by hearing and seeing the impact they had on poor Callie.
She was a fighter but who wouldn’t have problems with Torment? He completed a simple scoop slam and then scaled the second rope…
Leg drop.
1
2
No!
Callie barely, and I mean barely, survived that and her neck had to be hurting even more following that. The crowd chanted her name to try and get her back into the game, which was going to be difficult as Torment, a former nbW champion and one of the most dominant individuals since its inception, was in total control. He was relaxed and dictating the pace. Torment was determined not to allow her and cut her off again with a boot to the gut and then signalled for a powerbomb.
Cleverly, Callie dropped to her knees. How could she resist? Well, she did again, you know but Torment dropped an axe handle across her spine and that all it took to soften her up and then she was ready for take off…
POWERBOMB!
Countered by a Hurricanrana as Callie rolled through…
1
2
2.5 by my reckoning and Urban was limited in her movement, but it was better than nothing. She then exploited her advantage over the giant by smacking him with a roundhouse kick that rocked him but didn’t knock him off his feet. She was up again and tried a delightful dropkick but that couldn’t do it either. Torment was into lists of three. Would he like this one?
NO!
LOW BLOW!
The referee warned Callie but she didn’t care. With Torment pole-axed, she sought to capitalise and when he sat up, she kicked him in the face twice, one to each cheek and then put him down with another superb dropkick to the bridge of the nose for a 1 count. She then stomped on him around the chest/ribs area until an outstretched paw stopped her and just as it looked like she was about to fall to the ground, she used her free foot to stand on his fingers and then stamp on his head as he lay there.
Once again, the official tried to warn her but she brushed past him and stood on the top rope waiting for Torment to stand up. When he did, she made the leap and connected with a gorgeous missile dropkick…
1
2
She was back in two-count territory. Rather than dwell on it, she was up and at him again, deciding to leap on his back like a rabid dog, applying a sleeper in an attempt to sap his energy and with a bit of luck, prepare him for bed.
Instead, Torment found his bearings and brought Callie over his shoulder and countered the move into an earth-shuddering powerslam…
1
2
3?
Callie hardly moved her shoulder but whatever she did proved to be enough. Torment was keen to cut through the field and he went back to the well, using a slight variation with a hanging brain buster, keeping everything elementary, high-impact and again affecting that prone neck of Miss Urban’s to extract another ‘Dos.’
Torment wasn’t frustrated but rather impatient. He easily moved Urban across the ring and then took her head off in the centre of the squared circle.
1
2
Urban was showing great heart and resistance. How much longer could it last?
Not long by the looks of it. Torment knocked Callie down with a solitary knife edge chop and then hoisted her up onto the top turnbuckle. It became apparent that, upon moving into position, his plan was to powerbomb her from a tremendous height, like over 7’ was enough. He lifted her up, no problem at all, but her legs started to kick at thin air and she also swivelled around while up there and with the big man off balance, and Callie’s perseverance, it paid off as she negotiated a victory roll…
1
2
3!!!
“SHE GOT HIM,” Gordon proudly proclaimed, clearly in shock she’d taken the 300-plus pound powerhouse off his feet and tied him up long enough to get the duke. Urban, who’s upset the odds her entire life, had done it again here at 10 to 1.
Meanwhile, Torment went mental. He’d just been beaten by a woman, who is one of the most talented females to ever enter the sport, but you couldn’t tell the skyscraper that right now. He picked his hapless opponent up, who’d overcome the odds yet again, and lifted her so high into the air that she needed her passport…
CHOKESLAM.
You know the drill by now, don’t you?
Yes, you do. Torment hangs on…
CHOKESLAM V. 2.0
If that wasn’t enough…
TRIPLE CHOKESLAM!
Now, it was sufficient. Torment’s work was done and what handiwork it was.
Terry smirked: “He’s left a defenceless woman in a position where if she was out on the street like this, you’d worry about her. Or have a go yourself. The fact that he’s done it here means anyone who comes out, forget that we’ve got the top ten stars in nbW in this match, will have to do absolutely nothing to advance.”
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs Height? 6' 5" Weight? 258 lbs Signature? Superstar Kick |
| What does he bring into the match? » He is a multi-time world champion all over the world. » Uncanny quickness for a man his size. » He bring ring intelligence and experience. No one in this match has been in as many big time matches as SVJ and that gives him the edge. » Even though he's older he can still wrestle with the best of them. » He doesn't give up especially if gold is involved. » He also brings moves that are rarely seen by a man that weighs close to 260lbs. What to watch out for? » Vince has a huge ego which sometimes gets him in trouble if he underestimates someone. » Even though Vince can fly like most high fliers he usually can't go toe to toe with some of the younger daredevils in the business today. » He is not a sound submissions wrestler. He can sometimes have trouble against really good submission specialist. |
|
Rents was right. Then a sweet xylophone sounded and paved the way for a chorus of boos…
“GORDON, GET UP! THE WRESTLING SUPERSTAR IS HERE! BOW DOWN TO YOUR GOD!”
Terry Renton stood up and applauded the emergence of one Superstar Vince Jacobs.
Before Cypress Hill did their thing, the fans heard Vince’s voice: “I didn’t need to come to nbW to be a superstar… I brought my own spotlight with me.”
How can anyone say anything about this guy that hasn’t been already said?
He has won EIGHT different versions of the heavyweight championship.
He was the first - and only - man to hold the world title in the legendary CWL.
He’s been a star everywhere he’s ever worked and wrestled everyone from Alias to Zimmerman.
And, finally, he was in nbW.
Say hello to YOUR GOD.
He paid no attention to the audience, though it was hard to ignore the universal voice of disapproval, and smiled as he approached the squared circle, his office, an environment he excelled in. Vince looked down at Callie and put one foot on her chest…
1…
2…
3.
“CALLIE KICKED OUT! CALLIE KICKED OUT! CALLIE KICKED OUT!”
Rents brought his broadcast colleague back down to earth: “Just because she was hit with a triple chokeslam doesn’t mean you have to scream three times just because she raised a shoulder. Big deal.”
Vince dragged Callie up and looked down at her but there clearly wasn’t anyone home…
FALLING STAR.
Of course, ‘Superstar’ had been smart and targeted the neck with his devastating inverted DDT
“To a fallen star,” Rents quipped.
Uno..
Due…
Tre.
Vince wiped his hands, as if to say it was all too easy.
What would you know?
It was another remix. This time for Kiss…
Which only meant one thing…
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Spike Saunders Height? 7' 3" Weight? 317 lbs Signature? Spiked! |
| What does he bring into the match? » Size and Strength. » Never once held the World Title in nBW so can be expected to go full throttle. » The Big Boot to level the playing field. What to watch out for? » Saunders is a giant, but like any giant’s they can be knocked down. » He needs to watch for the low aimed attacks; while although he can swat the high-flying attacks aside if you take down his ability to stand, the right follow-up could state the end. » The right kick from SVJ or Showtime or a Gentrification from Callie could have the right oomph to slay the giant. Likewise, whittling down his massive legs can work just as well. |
|
SPIKE SAUNDERS.
Gordon shrieked: “After what happened earlier between these two and last week of course, this is going to get very physical real quick. SVJ vowed to have the last laugh at the end of the night. He’ll have to repeat what he did two weeks ago to do it. Who will pass this, the penultimate stage of the match?”
Vince Jacobs saw the 7’3 emerge and tower over the crowd as we walked the aisle with intensity and intent. The smile had had when Double S appeared soon vanished as the big fella stepped over the top rope. SVJ, already inside Da Dragon’s head, hit the bricks and vacated the battlefield momentarily, taking a time-out to suss out how to deny Saunders once again.
Fans also believed Spike would be foaming regarding Urban’s exit. He was here to get retribution for the Entourage, an outstanding force and two of the brightest stars in nbW history.
SVJ taunted a fan at ringside: “Kid, is that what all the fuss is about? He’s your hero? That long streak of piss in there? He’s no problem. I’ve already beaten him. Didn’t you see Slam six? Oh wait, must remember what Voss told me about nbW… stands for nobody’s watching. Well, they are now. Boyle, you can thank me later,” Jacobs told the cameraman and every viewer as he concluded his rant and glared at the referee, who was up to five with his count. Jacobs flipped Spike off and told him ‘to fuck himself’ which prompted to Saunders come out and meet him on the arena floor.
Saunders proceeded to chase ‘The Reason There Is A Show’ right around the ring but Vince outran him and when Spike slipped back in, he was two steps behind ‘Hollywood’s Brightest Star,’ That was all it took, Jacobs punishing him with a hard boot to the back.
Vince picked Spike up and backed him into the corner when the referee asked for a clean break. Both men abided and the California native held his hands up in an apologetic manner before he reverted to type and slapped Sanders in the kisser.
Seeing the rang in the monster’s eyes, who made a beeline for Vince straightaway, Jacobs took off and literally leapt through the ropes to get away from the giant, who had been awoken. ‘Superstar’ had Spike’s attention, along with everyone else’s as he continued to fraternise with fans. Jacobs walked around the ring and came back in, ascending the steel steps and instructing the official to order Spike to give him some space. Sarcastically, yet also eagerly, he sat on the ropes, holding them open and inviting Vince back in. Jacobs accepted his proposal and the fans clapped for the gesture shown by their hero.
SVJ incredibly challenged Spike to a test of strength. Saunders accepted, despite the fans’ pleas not to, fearing it was a trap. Just as their fingertips touched, Vince paused and then wipes his paws on his pants, suggesting he didn’t have enough grip. He said sorry to Spike and then hesitated again just before locking up…
SLAP!
He’d done it a second time and Saunders was seething at this state, blinded by rage, so much that he sprinted at SVJ, who anticipated it all along and took him down with a delightful drop toe hold and slapped on a front chancery. Vince rained in punches from that position but Spike was back on his feet in no time, though unable to break the hold. Suddenly, he scooped up Vince, who still had it cinched in, and rammed into the turnbuckles, which caused separation. Spike followed it up with a couple of elbow smashes to the head and then he whipped his latest antagonist into the opposite corner, scoring with a bone-crunching clothesline.
Vince stumbled out of the corner, resembling a piss head in aimless pursuit of an elusive kebab shop at 5am, and was about to fall on his face, unattended, when Spike caught him and hooked the tights…
Jacobs was going for a ride.
Vertical suplex.
Colossus connected and went for the cover, which brought a 2-count. Jacobs’ kickout wasn’t authoritative but he was one of the most resilient athletes in the sport and with a world title at stake, he was tougher than a year-old beef curry in a Chinese buffet.
Spike hauled Jacobs to his feet and then let out a huge cry for a cheap pop…
Double underhook suplex.
1
2
No. SS was now in control. Jacobs was stunned and with good reason. He was finding out what it was like to get on the giant’s wrong side. Spike fired ‘Superstar’ into the opposing set of ropes and like a boomerang; SVJ came back to Saunders, who’d anticipated it perfectly…
Big boot.
It nearly took Vince’s face off.
1
2
NO!
The faithful honestly thought he had SVJ there, but Mr. CWL managed to escape in the nick of time. Keen to capitalise, Spike returned Jacobs where he came from and there was nothing fancy about the resultant lariat that put Vince on his ass, close enough to the apron, where he rolled out of harm’s way for a breather as he held his head, probably wishing he had a couple of aspirin on him.
Jacobs again came in via the ring steps and glared at Spike, trying to suss out a way to tame the titan. Usually very vocal in the ring, Vince had had little to shout about so far.
They came together for a tie-up and Vince actually negotiated a headlock. However, one second later, he was travelling on ‘The Big One’ as Spike dumped him with a side suplex.
Vince’s equilibrium was all over the place as Spike stood over him, like he did with virtually everyone in the industry anyway, who hit him with two ferocious forearms to the point of the spine. He implored Jacobs to get up, who couldn’t of his own accord, thus Double S assisted him and then unforgivably slapped on a bear hug to compound the Californian’s misery.
SVJ hadn’t got out of the blocks and he was in serious danger, not from submitting, but Spike was dictating the pace, dissecting him and physically dominating this encounter. When in doubt…
BOO.
Take an eye out. For all of his finesse and expertise, ‘Greatness himself’ resorted to a cheap, nasty, dirtier-than-a-dog’s-ass eye rake to slip Spike’s possession. He decided to exploit the moment of weakness and nail Saunders with a running knee strike that caused Colossus to bounce his head off the top turnbuckle and slump to the mat, his noggin’ resting against the bottom rope.
From there, Vince kneeled down and choked the big guy, the referee unable to wrestle him away, and unleashed a flurry of fists that Spike tried to repel but couldn’t. Jacobs pointed to the crowd and then at Saunders. He was laughing as Spike crawled away from the corner only to be put on his back by a beautiful low dropkick to the temple.
Arrogantly, SVJ slouched down and made a cover…
1
And that was an AUTHORITATIVE kick out, which almost sent SVJ outside of the squared circle. He’d have to use much more of his awesome ability and arsenal if he wanted to beat the biggest man on the roster for the second successive Slam.
Just as Spike was about to get to one knee, SVJ made a dash for it…
Star Gazer.
‘Superstar’s’ Shining Wizard was spot on, just like it was at the last show…
1
2
Spike powered out and his rejections were gradually becoming less assertive. Vince was undeterred and once again used his speed and agility, plus the ropes to rebound and return with a gorgeous Asai Moonsault…
That Saunders had well-scouted and was able to raise his ridiculously long legs at the last moment, causing Vince’s ribs and spleen an awful lot of discomfort, signalled by Jacobs rolling around on the canvas like he was infested by worms.
Both men had a brief break, the referee counting them both down for five before Spike stirred, though Vince wasn’t far behind and given his quickness advantage, he headed straight over to Spike to get the first shot in…
Blocked.
Spike’s right paw connected.
SVJ tried a second time, but it was luckless, like the preceding effort and was again met by another bomb. After that, he had no answer as Spike backed him up against the ropes, which only served to hold him up, waylaying him with ten rock-solid shots that involved the crowd chanting along. They loved it, especially when the titan turned the tables of SVJ and complemented his hard work with a…
CHOKE BOMB!
1…
2….
SHOULDER UP!
It shot out like Peter North from ten metres away. There was no way Jacobs was going to be beaten by one of his own signature moves, but while the denial appeared grand, he’d used yet more energy in what was proving to be a physically-taxing battle for two household names, battling here for supremacy at the semi-final stage.
Spike once again picked the so-called JLV fan, revealed to be Vince at Slam 6, up off the mat and bench-pressed one of the most talented performers above his head, like he was deadweight…
SPIKED!
Well, that was the intention, except Vince Jacobs made a getaway and then tried to roll up Spike, who simply brushed him off as they approached the ropes. However, Jacobs, an experienced campaigner of two decades, had other ideas. He was already heading in the other direction when Saunders turned round to meet him in the middle of the ring…
THE REASON THERE IS A SHOW!
It lived up to the billing, motherfuckers.
The Asai moonsault on this exchange was successfully-converted into a DDT this time round. The fans couldn’t help but applaud and admire the efforts of the two participants, who were now flat-out on the floor as the official could go to work again.
Spike got to a knee at 6, just as Vince was starting to come round. Saunders broke it mere milliseconds later as ‘The Ratings Grabber’ returned to his feet at the same time. There was a stand-off in the middle of the ring and they had exchanged six, stiffer than hell knife edge chops and were three apiece before Spike had the final say with the seventh and then clasped a handful of hair and steered the Superstar towards a turnbuckle in order to ram his head into it. Thereafter, he whipped him into the other corner so hard that the Californian came out of it like a cannonball but Spike’s presumption that he’d come back to him if he set Vince free was turned into a (normal) DDT.
The official was poised to count but the multi-time heavyweight champion decided it against it and elected to drop an elbow across the titan’s throat and choke him out…
“Hey Spike, I heard this is how Callie likes it: Rough and ready,” smirked SVJ as the referee demanded he broke on the count of 5. SVJ told him to cool down and then stomped on Spike’s head. Da Dragon appeared to be enraged, especially at the last smug remark.
As Pro Wrestling’s Phenomenon started to appear assured and confident, taking the fight to his fearsome opponent, he was met with a low blow that instantly floored him and caused Colossus to receive a reprieve from the referee.
Maybe Jacobs had that one coming.
The arena was rocking as the audience urged their hero to get up and silence ‘Hollywood’s Brightest Star.’
With Vince still down, Spike decided to take a chance, though not the ultimate risk, as he boarded only the second rope rather than go all the way to the top. He was tall enough…
Not anymore he wasn’t.
Hi Spike. My name’s Mat. Nice to meet you.
Ever the opportunist, Vince removed Spike’s pin as he quickly tried to re-establish an upright stance with a chop block and then slapped on a single-leg Boston Crab.
Fortunately, the face of nbW wasn’t sufficiently-weakened downstairs and his height advantage in fact did come into play as he bore the pain for a matter of seconds before sticking out a paw to reach safety in the form of the bottom rope.
Mr. CWL ignored the official and dragged Dragon back into the centre of the ring, dropping two sharp elbows to the point of Spike’s spine and then flipping him over to lay them in with three illegal-looking fisticuffs to the ribcage. Saunders tried to respond with a right, but it was feeble and SVJ hit him with a much harder effort in return and then stomped on him again, which forced Spike to lie on his stomach. The nbW faithful were learning first-hand why their favourite superstar’s opposition had already been inducted into TWO Hall of Fames and they wondered what he had in mind as he exited the ring and climbed to the summit, going one better than the giant just moments ago…
FIVE STAR!!!!!
Gordon roared: “That’s the second frosplash we’ve seen tonight! Will it be the same outcome?
Immediately, Vince turned the titan over…
ONE…
TWO…
Marc answered his own question: “NO, IT WON’T!”
Vince whispered to Spike: “Give it up and save yourself the trouble. I’m just getting started and there’s plenty more of where that came from.”
Jacobs lifted the largest athlete on the roster up and hooked the leg looking for a Russian Legsweep. His first attempt didn’t work and after his second failed to take the titan to the mat, SVJ realised they were being blocked by a stubborn SS. Spike chopped the living hell out of SVJ and backed him up into the ropes before depositing him into the opposing set and he successfully elevated Vince up and over on the back body drop…
Yet, ‘Superstar’ somehow landed on his feet and when Saunders turned round, he not only discovered this point but was treated, in the centre of the ring, to a…
STARBURST!
Vince’s take on the spinebuster shook the ring and piled more pressure on Spike’s spine…
ONE…
TWO…
THR…
That almost had him and Vince’s frustration grew as he pounded the mat three times, unlike the referee. He cursed under his breath and then had Spike’s ear again: “You won’t win. You can’t win. So… give it up now. I’ll get the last laugh… I always do. Do yourself a favour and take Callie out to a restaurant while they’re still open. She needs cheering up after what Torment and I did to her.”
SVJ lashed the chest of Colossus who was now up but Spike hit back with his own and then a head butt. ‘Superstar’ was staggering towards the left set of ropes and was helped over them when Spike ran at him with everything he had left in the tank with an impressive lariat and nobody landed on their feet this time.
1…
Spike stood up.
2…
Vince regained his vertical base, though it was thrust upon him.
3…
Saunders elevated his latest and perhaps greatest enemy into the air.
4…
Only to bring him back down to earth with a thud, dropping him across the steel rail, which the ringside fans also lapped up.
5…
Vince’s back was arched and in serious jeopardy. Spike was turning the tables and he confirmed that by ramming Jacobs further back against the rail, almost breaking it in the process as security moved to ensure fans stepped back.
6…
Spike whipped Jacobs into the ring apron. But ‘Hollywood’s Brightest Star’ reversed.
7…
Spike came back to Vince, the distance between the apron and rail not long to travel at all and the speed resembling a top-of-the-range car going from 0 to 60…
8…
SUPERSTAR KICK!
From out of nowhere, for the second successive Slam, Spike had tasted the most devastating weapon, the crown jewel if you will, in the Ratings Grabber’s tremendous repertoire.
9…
Vince was stood against the apron and put a knee up. Could he make it in time?
10.
Time had run out…
For Da Dragon.
You just knew Jacobs was on the canvas when the official made it to double figures and then back on his feet, jumping up and down on the spot when the bell sounded. He laughed loudly as the ring announcer regrettably informed the audience that this portion, the penultimate and lengthiest instalment thus far, had come to a premature ending.
SVJ was just one step away from adding yet another world championship to his priceless collection.
One man stood between Greatness and …
Greatness?
“Space Oddity.”
| Meet Your Future | World Champion |
|---|---|
 |
Who is he? Max Hopper Height? 6' 0" Weight? 223 lbs Signature? Trend Setter |
| What does he bring into the match? » Good looks, charisma, and the ability to connect to the crowd » One of the younger and more athletic participants in this match » Excellent basics and chain wrestling, a few flashy high flying moves, and sound brawling makes for a good all-round style » Good ring presence, knows where he is at all times What to watch out for? » Although he's been wrestling for the past 8 years, he probably isn't as matured as some of the other wrestlers in this match and can lack the mental discipline necessary to pull off the big win » Will play to the crowd, trying to entertain them, which can leave openings for opponents » Will protect his hair, even at the cost of the match » Can become cross if someone musses his hair » Gives up obvious size advantages to some of the other wrestlers (Saunders, Willis, and Son of Malta) |
|
He was an oddity, alright. However, he was an nbW mainstay and an entertainer who had a connection with the masses. He hadn’t been seen since Slam 3 and now he was back…
Max Hopper, sunglasses and all, was the great nbW hope. As he was about to enter, Spike finally stood up and shook his head. The camera zoomed in on him: “Next time Jacobs…”
SVJ waved at Saunders: “Get off the TV. You’re HI-STO-RY. I’m The Reason There Is A Show and the Ratings Grabber… and you’re not.”
Hopper was wearing shades because his future was so bright. Unfortunately, High Flyer’s great friend had stagnated since the return of No Brand but here he was, in his late twenties, against a veteran who’d competed against everyone who was anyone for the past two decades. As Max walked the aisle, he exchanged a handshake with Double S, who patted him on the back and told him to do it for the company.
The native New Yorker climbed the steps and hopped, no pun intended through the ropes and posed, but that was brought to a premature end as Vince Jacobs ran through him with a hard clothesline and the bell sounded to signal that the grand finale of the first-ever 10 to 1 was finally here.
‘Superstar’ sneered: “I’d say you don’t even belong in the same ring as me but you know that. So I’ll go one better: You shouldn’t even be in the same company as me because you’re not in MY LEAGUE.”
The fans booed SVJ. Sure, he was amazing and those who had lived on the moon for the last decade and were only getting to see him for the very first time, Vince Virgins, were starting to see that the Living Legend was just that. Meanwhile, the two commentators were hyping up this, the final stop on a 9-match journey.
“Fans, you’re looking at the world champion. One of these two men…
Rents had to butt in: “YOUR GOD will be YOUR WORLD CHAMPION.”
The Living Legend had started where he’d left off – kicking ass. Hopper was already back up but knocked back down again as Jacobs ran through him again like a truck with a massive football tackle, utilising his 260-pound frame there to bully the smaller Max, who he outweighed by 40 pounds.
“Well, well… Talk of the devil and he shall appear. You know, I’d forgotten about your existence Hopper. You’re another one who’s tried to base himself on me. When will you little internet marks give up the game and see I’m THE ICON.”
WHOO!
WHOO!
WHOO!
The chops affected Hopper, who hadn’t had time to find his feet, and was now being propelled into the ropes. Fortunately, Vince missed with the clothesline attempt and Hopper rebounded and caught him…
Clone of Pele Kick!
SVJ fell flat on his face and Max electrified the crowd by pulling his sunglasses down just a tad to show off his eyes as girls swooned everywhere and boys admired his element of fun, especially opposite SVJ in what had to be the grandest stage of his career.
The Icon was on his knees and begging for mercy from a person he’d berated only moments ago and in an interview earlier this evening. He extended his hand as Hopper looked at the crowd, seemingly looking for their input as they told him to ignore the gesture and hand the cocky newcomer’s rear end to me. Max was clearly enjoying his time back in the spotlight and pointed at SVJ, which prompted a wide chorus of jeers, which were then replaced by as many cheers when he pointed at himself. He smiled and dropkicked Jacobs right in the kisser and made a cover…
1.
He wasn’t done there. As soon as the official raised his index finger, Hopper got to his feet and performed a stunning standing moonsault…
1
2
No.
Progress had already been made. Vince Jacobs stood up and walked over to Hopper, getting in his face: “Give it up. The truth is out there… I’m the Ratings Grabber and Max, you can thank me later for your career getting a bigger boost than anything you’ve ever done for it.”
Max shoved Vince on his backside and was about to zero in but the Californian crawled away from the incoming Hopper and put his head between the ropes, demanding that the official ‘get him back.’ As Hopper complied with the rules, the referee was happy until Max returned to the scene where a crime actually happened. SVJ’s outstretched foot accidentally on purpose caught the man who replaced Kirk Cameron on the cover of Tiger Beat somewhere down south, where I hear it’s quite chilly this time of year.
The referee reprimanded Vince but knew the most prestigious prize in the promotion couldn’t be decided on a disqualification, even if there was cause for it. Vince, the crafty and wily veteran, knew this as he apologised profusely and then grinned from ear to ear the moment the man in the middle turned his back. He knew what he was doing.
Vince attempted to pull Hopper up by his hair, but Max slapped his hand away. Jacobs did it again, only to meet the same response. SVJ, amused by the childish reaction, placed his hand on ‘Pure Style’s’ chin: “Oh… What’s the matter? Scared to mess your hair up?”
Hopper paused and nodded his head: “As a matter of fact…”
Vince kicked him in the face and stood superior over ‘Fantasy.’ He lapped up the negative response. He was born to do this.
Jacobs did grab Max by his hair, which the Mexican Grasshopper tried to resist, but by the time he could do anything about it, he was whipped into a neutral corner and then floored by a resultant dropkick when he came out of the Asian off-licence. He didn’t stay down too long but he may’ve wished he had as SVJ, unable to commit Spike earlier, was successful with the Russian Legsweep second time round and floated over to garner a two count.
Not wanting to waste any time in his quest to be number 1, which is the case everywhere he goes, SVJ stood his opposite number up and slapped him, which Hopper was powerless to prevent. This time, he fired him into the ropes and as Max returned to him, Jacobs met him halfway and planted him with a powerslam…
1
2
And only two. However, Hopper’s bright start had disappeared and the longer this contest went, despite Max’s lighter mass, had to favour The Icon, given American’s Most Popular Athlete’s lay-off.
Vince was in cruise control and determined to utilise the aforementioned weight advantage. He lifted Fantasy up into the air like he was a bag of sugar and held him there for several seconds before dumping him with a delayed vertical suplex…
1
2
Two and a half.
Jacobs questioned the count to reaffirm his status as an asshole because he didn’t have to. He did it because he could but the arrogance allowed Fantasy to settle a debt…
LOW BLOW!
Vince, clutching his crotch, rolled around and pointed at MaX-Files, telling the referee he should be disqualified. The designated individual for this all-important clash simply shrugged his shoulder and the fans cheered.
Do unto others and all of that shit. They were level.
Vince stood up, lacking that swagger in his step, but still beat Max to his feet, who he greeted with a chop to the chest. Looking to get back into full gear, he hooked Hopper’s head and was clearly seeking another suplex, but the Pat Gordon Wrestling Academy graduate slammed on the brakes and then, surprisingly, overpowered Hollywood himself with a northern lights of his own…
1
2
Kickout!
Not quite as the Shooting Star’s shoulder shot up at the last split-second. However, he was flustered, hot and bothered, and swung with a wild clothesline that Max avoided and then he put him on his ass, literally, with an atomic drop that had Vince checking to see if it hadn’t fallen out. When he returned to his feet, Max sprinted towards him…
STARBURST!
Superstar’s 2nd spinebuster of the evening was every bit as powerful as its original airing…
ONE…
TWO…
HOW DID HOPPER KICK OUT?
Jacobs, knowing it irritated Max immensely rubbed his hand through Hopper’s hair, but the Mexican Grasshopper’s lower back was bothering him so much that he couldn’t bear to remove his hand from it to preserve ‘the look.’ Hopper was using Jacobs as a ladder to get himself up but Vince removed himself from that role, leaving the Prince of Propah to slump to the mat again. In the mood to stir it up, Superstar put his hand on Max’s hair again, who immediately reacted this time, but as Jacobs then did a 360 and approached America’s Most Popular Athlete with a smile on his face, he did something despicable…
He spat right in the face of Max Hopper.
Was Max Hopper, one of the federation’s best babyfaces, representative of nbW as an institution?
To add injury to insult, he gave the Pat Gordon graduate an open-handed slap and then a backhander and went for a cover, neglecting to hook the leg, which brought barely a 2. Its nonchalance was rewarded with disrespect.
“LET’S GO HOPPER.”
SVJ even joined in, mockingly of course, before slapping Max on the head, touching his hair thereafter, taking the piss out of the talented performer for his apparent obsession with his own locks. Jacobs started his run-up from behind his opponent but made sure he looked him straight in the eye as he lashed him with a…
STARGAZER!
ONE…
TWO…
TH…
Hopper was still alive. Jacobs tried to get into the New York native’s noggin: “Let’s go Hopper. Didn’t you hear what they said?”
Jacobs grinded his knuckles against Max’s ‘set’ and then drove hard right hands into the cranium until his fellow LoC worker fell to the mat in a heap, unable to take much more of this.
Vince, as if he hadn’t already, decided he wanted to teach this upstate New York upstart a lesson and clasped a handful of hair and motioned the cameraman over to catch this. SVJ asserted his dominance by ramming the defenceless athlete’s head into the top turnbuckle ten times to no fanfare whatsoever. As he did so, Jacobs gave a running commentary: “See this guy? He’s why nobody’s watched this dump and I’m the reason you’re now watching. Tune in next week to see my first speech as the new world champion. Boyle, you can thank me later.”
With Hopper breathing heavily, sitting down against the bottom rope like an old man peacefully going to sleep, Jacobs interrupted his rest period by forcing his right boot down the kid’s mouth and it didn’t resemble Maccheroncini Al Fume, let me tell you. Max fell through the ropes and fell to the floor head-first, which was concerning, though the perpetrator merely laughed.
Vince appeared to be looking for a count out, adjudging America’s Most Popular Athlete to have taken a bigger bump to the head than he did, when he resurfaced between six and seven. He allowed Max back onto the apron and then put his opponent into a front facelock and hooked the tights. ‘Superstar’ was going to bring the New Yorker back in the hard way with a suplex. Well, that was the plan. As Vince elevated Max into the air, the lighter athlete managed to escape out of the back door. Before ‘Hollywood’s Brightest Star’ could turn round though…
TRENDSETTER!
Nobody could believe it. Unfortunately, Vince, despite being goofy and not knowing where he was, bounced out of the ring underneath the apron and onto the floor.
Hopper wanted to go outside and continue his attack but the official convinced him to stay in the squared circle while he counted. Max looked at the crowd, waved to them and corrected both his hair and sunglasses.
The referee was up to eight when Jacobs stood up next to the ring apron. In a moment of madness, Max thought ‘fuck it’ and let fly…
FAUXBERRY FLOP!
The nbW faithful were chanting their own company’s name now as both men were a mess on the floor. At 8, Hopper rolled SVJ in and pounced, making a pinfall attempt…
1
2
Foot on the rope!
Max held his head, but was careful not to touch his hair. He then dragged Vince into the middle of the ring…
1
2
No. Say what you want about SVJ, but he can dish it out AND take it.
Just as Hopper was helping Jacobs up…
A STELLAR PERFORMANCE!
The choke bomb was succeeded by a cover, Vince leaning on his opposition with all of his weight…
ONE…
TWO…
MAX KICKS OUT!
‘Superstar’ afforded himself a smile as the two of them struggled to get up: “Hopper. We both know you won’t win so do yourself a favor and stop kicking out. You weren’t born to be a world champion so get the thought out of your head. You can’t be disappointed that way.”
However, all of the trash talking did Mr. CWL no good at all, as he missed with his attempted punch as Max ducked it and then came back off the ropes with a cross body…
1
2
Denied!
Max was living up to his nickname of Mexican Grasshopper as he refused to give Vince a second’s peace and took him down with a dazzling headscissors!
SVJ was wobbly but back on his feet and searching for Hopper, who came right back at him but what for was anyone’s guess…
STAR STRUCK!!!
We would never find out as Jacobs cut him off with a kick to the gut and planted him with his devastating finishing move, similar to Adam Copeland’s Edgecution – but better because it’s SVJ, sucka.
He was on Hopper like a fly around shit, hooking the leg for everything it was worth…
1…
2….
3?!
Damn right.
“YOUR GOD IS YOUR NEW WORLD CHAMPION! I TOLD YOU ALL!”
Rents was ecstatic with his prediction while Marc Gordon remained objective: “In two weeks, Superstar Vince Jacobs has not only boosted our ratings but beaten THREE of the best and most popular superstars in ONE night. Love him or hate him, you have to respect the Living Legend. He has proven he is one tonight.”
SVJ was handed the championship belt, the latest in a long line for him, and a feeling he never tired of. He smiled as he suddenly snatched it from the official’s grasp and raised it high in the air for all to see, prompting boos for ‘Hollywood’s Brightest Star.’
ACW’s heel of the year in 2003 had attracted huge heat everywhere and that was also true tonight among nbW fans.
He had brought his own spotlight with him…
Unlike ECW in 1995, No Brand was fixed to find out what a ‘true superstar’ was supposed to be.
| Winner by Elimination, And the NEW World Champion, 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs! |
|---|
| Not a Thing |
|---|
Showtime was sitting in the locker room. Elsewhere, FTW, Proteus and El Avestruz were going over strategy for their 8-Man Tag match. Showtime was sitting the planning session out to ice his shoulder. He'd managed to eliminate two top-tier wrestlers in the 10-to-1 match, but the powerbombs from Torment had taken their toll -- he certainly remembered the feeling from the days when he first took the Tag Belts from the former Torment team many years ago. In the doorway, a shadow appeared. Showtime looked up and said, "You're late."
The camera panned over to see Dark Ninja, wearing his "That Just Happened" tee, with his arms folded just below the lettering so you could clearly see the phrase. Showtime continued, "I was told you'd be making an appearance at the 10-to-1 Match."
Dark Ninja walked over to Showtime. "Oh, did that already happen? I must've lost track of time. I got so distracted focusing on my upcoming 8-Man Tag main event that I'll soon be winning. How did that 10-to-1 thing go for you? Are you World Champion, or what?"
Showtime said, in a snarky kind of way, "Nope. Not yet."
Ninja grinned wide, "No kidding! Showtime not winning a title. What a surprise."
"At least I got to wrestle for the World Title."
"As far as I'm concerned, the most important title in this company is the one you can't get. So either way, I'm happy. But me being Tag Champion? Yeah, that makes me happy. I know you were looking forward to me interfering, giving you an excuse for losing, and giving the whole segment the Ninja bump... but I decided to let you fail on your own. I hope you weren't too distracted."
"Oh, I wasn't THAT distracted. I don't consider you interfering to be THAT big of a deal. I'm used to it by now."
"I hope it was worth it, Showtime. Bowing out of an important match with His Almighty Ninjaness -- yet another awesome new catchphrase -- to roll the dice on becoming champion."
"Being champion is worth any risk, Ninja. It means I'd never have to worry about you anymore, because I know you'd never get there."
"Hey! I could totally get there! Anywhere you can get, I can go too. I could be World Champion anytime I want."
"Yeah, maybe. But you'd have to drop the tag titles to get there. And I know you don't want to do that."
Ninja scowled. "You're fuckin' repugnant, you know that? I don't even know what that word means, but you're it. I could totally lose the titles if I wanted to."
"If you say so."
Dark Ninja stood and reared his fist back, as if for a punch. The two men just stood there staring at one another, Showtime waiting for Ninja to throw the punch, and Ninja just waiting for the right moment.
He punched the locker instead, making a loud BANG. Showtime didn't flinch.
Ninja sneered. "That just happened."
As Ninja walked off, Showtime replied, "That's not a catchphrase, Ninja! That's not going to be a thing, no matter how hard you try!"
| On The Case |
|---|
"Hmm."
Thaddeus Boyle's eyes narrowed as he walked out of his office and down the hallway to his left. He had a stack of documents in his hands, and seemed rather engrossed in the contents of the paperwork. So much so that he almost collided into a couple of stage-hands who were loitering around doing nothing at all. The meeting with Loghan earlier in the night still plagued his mind, as well as the recent attacks on his paid talent. There was however one brightside tonight, NBW had a World Champion again; despite the nameplate reading the three sinister letters - SVJ.
At the back of his mind, Boyle thought about the viewership numbers on Hulu.com and hoped that the numbers for SLAM! Episode VII would be just as good if not better. By all accounts, it had been a solid episode from the get-go, and he was more than pleased with how it'd turned around, barring a couple of tiny hiccups. It would be a great way to bounce back after a recent PR fiasco.
You know, the one where nBW's website was supposedly hacked? Which led to a story about nBW being bought out by Scottish businessmen (one of them rumoured to be the nefarious Zezu *cough*) and being renamed 'New Britain Wrestling'? Only for NBW's intrepid head interviewer slash reporter Trent McKnight to post a retraction on the website?
... Aye. Talk about an interesting couple of weeks for nBW in the media, huh?
Thaddeus Boyle was outraged to hear that the nBW website had been hacked into. And he intended to find out who the e-vandal was. Luckily for him, he knew just who to delegate the task to.
"Mr. Boyle."
Thaddeus looked up and smiled warmly. "Ahhh, Mr. Sexton. Apologies for being late."
Yes, super-agent Biron Sexton. He with the horn-rimmed glasses and handsome handsomeness.
"Not to worry, I figured you might be overwhelmed." Sexton responded, arms folded across his chest. "How can I assist you? You sounded nervous on the phone."
Thaddeus looked around his surroundings and shot an annoyed frown at the camera-man. "Ah, yes. Well, before I go into that, I just wanted to thank you for your talent search. I have a good feeling about some of the people that have been brought in. I also got your text regarding Ampske; I have to apologise to you again.
I met him just several days ago, and something about him made me want to sign him immediately before any other promotion snapped him up. Besides, his ban on competing on American soil had just expired a short while ago and he already got six offers. I simply had to make a move first, but... I should have sent his dossier to you first. After all, that's why I hired you."
Biron chuckled, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. He was indeed surprised to see Ampske in nBW.
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I have his dossier now. And. You're the Boss. You can hire whomever you want whenever they strike your fancy. That's the best part of being the Boss, isn't it?" Biron responded, flashing his most charming of smiles.
Thaddeus nodded. "I suppose. Thank you for being understanding. Anyways, I'm sure you're aware of the PR fiasco that we were subjected to a a while back. While it did help in raising our profile here in Missouri a tiny bit, many people are calling us jokes for allowing our website to be hacked. This e-vandal has to pay the consequence of his actions.
In my hands here are all the investigative reports that I've ordered regarding this hacking. IP address look-ups and all that stuff. Most of it goes over my head. Suffice to say, Mr. Sexton, you're a man of many skills and you have a lot of resources at your disposal. Therefore, I want you to find out who was behind the hacking and bring this e-vandal to justice. Time is of the essence here, Mr. Sexton.
Think you could crack the case?"
Biron took one step toward his superior, his friendly smile transforming into a devious sneer.
Not only was his response in an affirmative tone, but it was kinda badass: "I already know who did it."
Thaddeus's mouth gaped mouth in utter shock. The super-agent laughed, and then placed his hand on Boyle's shoulder, guiding him down the hallway and out of sight of the cameraman.
What an intriguing turn of events, no?
| As the World Turns |
|---|
Time for a beautiful face on camera, might you agree?
Melony Vice, the Fighting Zone’s exclusive special reporter, stood in front of the NBW logo that Trent McKnight himself used to frequent with his interviews. She, on the other hand, was here to speak with two men not seen since losing their chance at the Tag Team Titles at Slam’s fifth episode.
The Myth and The Legend.
“Thank you boys for allowing me this interview moment. As you are well aware, I am now one of your colleagues, which means a lot of things. Bad and good. Kind of like your loss at Slam Five!”
Mercury looked at Miaate whom simply shrugged: “Melony, doll, I have no idea if we should slap that pretty face of yours or punt you in the gut to do your job the proper way, but-“
“Sure.”
“we-“ he paused, glancing at the smiling and now lip licking canuck. “We are here tonight, after speaking with Boyle about having a chance to re-affirm ourselves within the tag team division. Unfortunately he deemed us not worthy of air-time and put us in as the opening dark match. He wants us to repackage ourselves and our gimmick.”
“How are we supposed to show FTW or even the champions for that matter, that we are worthy contenders? If we can not wrestle for those watching each week, how do we convey that information? We were the ones the women swooned over, not Noid and Spark. And The Creedes are old broken down Volkswagens, while we’re the Ferrari’s of this generation.” Continued Miaate before Mark chimed in again.
“This bullshit is driving us up the wall. We have been in NBW far longer than any of these other teams, only exception being D-T, for how long we have been a team. And yet these new hiphop gaming punks stuck up on some unknown crack, get the shot at the gold before we do? What the fuck is going on here! Who the fuck do we have to fuck to get to the top?”
“Me.”
Melony butted in but Mercury chose to ignore and continued: “It is times like this we miss having Xander Napoli around. He may have been a jackass and a bastard, even a tad sadistic in his hatred, but at least he knew talent when he saw it.”
“Still, you two are nothing special. I mean, sure Miaate’s a hot Asian whose Sushi roll I’d love to taste; and you aren’t that bad lookin' yourself. The Creedes are too old for my taste. But Proteus? Noid? They make me wetter than the hover dam at the thought. That Malteese Son of Malta is-”
“What The Fuck!” hollered Mercury, barging into her spiel. “This isn’t The View, or fuckin’ Jerry Springer shit. We don’t care what you think, and what your fantasy’s are. Go take a break and slip a vibrator in for a few minutes. Leave tha-“
"I have. It’s already in!” she pulls out a small oval remote and shows him the switch. Miaate, curious, turns the dial a bit and Melony suddenly utters out a moan. “Ooooooooooh god”. He adjusts it a tad more, but Mercury rips it from his hand, accidentally hitting the highest setting. Vice drops to her knees shaking as she’s overcome with pleasure. They watch for a bit before she stops moving.
“Dude, you killed her!” argued Miaate. “She was going to go down on us. Well me anyway.”
Mercury shook his head, tipped her with his foot to which she showed signs of breathing still: “See, she’s fine. Now let’s go.”
Miaate sighed as the two walked away from her only to run into two more gentlemen.
“Evening Mercury, Miaate.”
Their pressed jackets and unforgettable faces thanks to Thaddeus’s earlier rant away from the camera, postering the two’s faces in the back, wanting immediate acknowledgement of their presence in the arena in the future.
“Yes?” spoke Mercury, rather disturbed they were being hindered yet again.
“Listen gentlemen. David and I, well to cut to the chase, we would like for you to come work for us.” Spoke Loghan.
“With you.” Replied Mercury.
“In 4CW?” commented Miaate.
“Yes. We saw that spectacle on Slam Five. And ever since we have been watching some earlier tapes from NBW’s past, including quite a few of your own. You two have Great talent, which is being capped by your lower-rung status here.” Stated David Buster.
“Come to 4CW. You will be champions within weeks given your extradornary talents. That on top of the payout. How does a 40% raise sound?”
Mercury and Miaate looked at each other and Mark queried: “And face who will we face for the championships? Do you even have a tag division to even have championships?”
Loghan smiled in return. “Exactly gentlemen.”
The Myth and Legend huddled up and voiced their thoughts on the matter before returning to face the head honcho’s of 4CW.
“Ya know what, deck us in 4CW colours, we’re in.”
“Excellent.” The four shook hands. “Follow us to the Limo and we’ll get the paperwork drawn up for you two. You’ve made a great business decision.”
The two followed Loghan and David as they headed out of the building. The camera returning back to the recovering Melony Vice.
“Ugh,” she nearly tripped and fell on her face standing to her feet. “Where’d those hunks go? I could of sworn that Asian one knew what that controller would do to m-“ CLANK “Wha’ was that?”
Vice rushed, as best as she could, around the corner into the mess hall, at least it was now. The room was a mess. It looked like a twister had spun through and tossed the tables on the sides, food and utensils everywhere.
In the dead center of it all, beneath two broken tables-
-“OH MY GOD!” screamed out Melony as she turned and rushed out to get help-
-because in the middle of it all was the unmoving body of the man that had at Slam Six fought for his life in The Zone, Simon Starks. His head cracked open, blood seeping from the exposed space as he hung over the destroyed tables.
Laying upon his abs was a single playing card, small in size, black in colour. The joker-like symbol in view.
    |
|
    |
| D-T And For The Win |
Versus |
Dream Warriors And The Creede Bros |
|---|---|---|
| 8-Man Tag Match | ||
What a difference fifteen days can make. Am I right? Why do I ask? Simple really.
‘Draw the Line’ from Aerosmith alerted the fans to the arrival of the former champions, the team of Proteus and Sho---- Supersquad’s El Avestruz? What the hell? Oh right, Showtime may still be suffering from his time in the Ten to One. None the less, D-T of tonight, made their way to the ring and saluted to the fans from the corners.
While D-T stood inside the ring in wait, sans Showtime still of course, ‘Hey Kids’ by Jet kicked into gear. Rather good song for this duo, oh my bad trio, as they came out with the lovely Cammy. I hope she gets naked again, don’t you? Aww, she got sent back to the back after a peck on the cheek of both men. Oh well.
For The Win rolled into the ring and took to their corner with D-T. However not to be overdone ‘Dream Warriors’ replaced their music and out walked the Dynasty Tag Team Chumpions, sorry Champions, alongside Brothers Creede, or the Creede Brothers.
Heck of a team or alliance made with those four men. Who do you suppose is the pitcher? The catcher? The hitter? And of course the shortstop? The latter I suppose would go to Dark Ninja. Wink wink. But hey, to the action as that bell rings.
“Here go Marc, time for that pathetic excuse of a team to get schooled by the age and experience of the Creedes and our Champs.” Remarked Renton to start things off.
“For The Win have been mighty impressive as of late, and tonight I expect no different.”
While Gordon rambled about the greatness that is FTW, rightfully so might I add, Ace Creede and Tony Spark squared off in the ring. They started off with a collar elbow tieup which escalated into a headlock by Ace, followed with a reversal into an wrist lock. With the wrist tied up Tony delivered an applaud worthy dragon screw to Ace sending him on his ass.
Ace furious from the showmanship assaulted Tony, and with a vicious polish hammer he dropped Tony to the ground, slid him across the ring and laid him in their corner for a tag to his brother. Both Creedes then raised Spark’s legs and yanked him clear off the mat with what looked like a double leg flapjack perhaps? Who really cares about the name though. Maybe 5% of the live audience had a clue, so whatever, right.
The referee, Ed Gates, ushered Ace back to the corner allowing Spade to drop a knee right in the young Spark’s lovesack.
“Ouch, come on Gates, you know that is a disqualification!” hollered out Gordon at commentary while Noid echoed his statements from the ring apron.
“Get real. The referee didn’t see anything. Even if he did, Ace tripped.”
Terry Renton could be right, who knows. What we do know is that Ace was drug across the ring to the ropes and then strangled on the bottom rope for a full four count before releasing. On the break of four he drove a boot into the kid’s face and walked casually to the corner to tag in the monster Psycho. The tallest man in the match charged across the ring and delivered a high boot right as Spark was recovering to his own two feet. Sending him out of the ring.
Chris Noid hopped the ropes and assaulted Psycho while The Creedes walked around the ring steps and double stomped on him. With Noid pushed back to his corner by the referee this allowed Ace to hit his infamous Ace up the Sleeve ddt on the hard floor outside the ring. They rushed to their corner as Gates leaned over the rope and started the ten count.
“Come on ref. Look around, clearly he was attacked!” cried Gordon into his head set. But alas the referee reached the count of seven, and miraculously the Win teammate stirred, at Eight he dove to the ring, And nine he pulled himself up with all his strength, rolling just prior to the ten; saving the match. Psycho however was quick to bear down on him with a series of stomps. Spark rolled back out of the ring to avoid them and stumbled to his corner where he rolled back in.
With a smile, he held out his hand and tagged in Proteus. Proteus launched into the ring and immediately assaulted one half of the champions.
Gordon smiled, “Business is about to pick up!”
“Lies.” Retorted Renton.
Proteus ducked the big ham fist’s attempt a clothesline, and rolled through for a nice swinging neckbreaker in retort. He followed with a series of stomps and punches to the back of the head before pulling him to his feet and hitting a nicely done Russian leg sweep. To be fair neither man was Russian so we will simply say a Canadian leg sweep. Politically correct folks.
Proteus attempted a pin cover but was tossed off to the side and the giant rejuvenated caught him with both arms for a spinning spinebuster. He then pulled him by his head for a Psychobomb presumingly but instead Proteus maneuvered free to the side and with the aid of the rope behind him, pulled off a second rope flipping ddt.
“That had to hurt!” stated Marc in admiration of the team of good doers. “Psycho was drilled to next week.”
“Come on Dream Warriors! D-T is one man short tonight, and those two kids don’t even equal one man! You can do it!” he screamed in reply. Psycho must have heard him as he avoided a legdrop by Proteus and tagged in Spade Creede. “YES! Time for some Serious Business now Gordon. Spade is a future Hall of Famer.”
Serious Business indeed. Psycho dropped a vicious chop to the chest on Proteus while Spade raced across the ring and speared Noid off the apron, followed with a spinning heel kick to Spark. Avestruz ducked his attempted backhand and kneed him through the ropes, but Spade kicked the kid square in the face sending him off the apron.
The camera panned the ring side where For The Win and Avestruz were all rolling about, and DW plus Ace cheered Spade on as he hit a basement level dropkick on Proteus. Raised him up by the arm and with a droptoe hold he applied a chinlock for good measure. He requested a check by Referee Gates but a second arm raise was followed by a kick from Chris Noid, furious at the attack and itching for some action.
"Look at that pent up aggression from Noid. He's ready to erupt!" called out Gordon while Renton simply scoffed in reply. Noid received a boot from Psycho but the damage was done, the hold was broke. Spade argued with Gates that Proteus was tapping and when disagreed upon he raised his hand to Gates who smiled and simply stated: "Do it, and pay the fine." And that was that, either Spade wised up or Proteus's grabbing of his ankles followed by the roll up pin did the job. Either way a two count was achieved, but Proteus had rolled over to the welcome corner.
He could make a tag to the eager Noid, resting on his laurels Avestruz, or even Stark... He opted to return to Psycho and deliver a few rounds more of energy from the hyped up crowd. Calling for the Switch Press DDT he was avoided thanks to the timely distraction by Ace trying to get in the ring, allowing Spade Creede to make the tag to Psycho.
Psycho began to dominate Proteus, forcing him to pay the price for not tagging out. The big man whipped him from pillar to post, giving him a championship-calibre beatdown in the turnbuckle. Proteus struggled to mount a comeback as Psycho made a quick, casual tag to Dark Ninja. Ninja entered the ring, delivered a kick to his midsection, then, deciding he'd delivered enough punishment, tagged out to Ace Creede.
"Ninja not seeming to want to spend a whole lot of time in the ring there tonight," Gordon remarked.
"He's biding his time, Gordo," Renton replied, "He's waiting for the right moment."
"Let's hope the crowd's still here when that happens!"
Ace continued to beat on Proteus, but being a less physically dominating opponent, fell prey to Proteus' lightning-quick takedown, dispatched just long enough for Proteus to get in the corner and tag in the very eager Chris Noid. Noid came alive with a running clothesline, followed by another, followed by a third, then when Ace ducked the fourth, Noid stopped short and smacked him with a back elbow. He covered.
ONE...
No, not quite enough to put them away.
"You know why that pinfall wasn't successful, Gordo?" Rents asked.
"No Terry, please enlighten me."
"It's because FTW is lame."
Gordon, rolling his eyes as audibly as possible, replied, "Terry, the level of discourse in your observations is astounding."
Noid tagged out to his partner. Spark and Noid whipped Ace off the ropes and caught him on the rebound with a flapjack. As Noid went back toward his corner, Spark prepared to lock Ace in a deadly submission hold, much like the one he had used effectively on Ace's brother on Slam V.
But before he could lock it in, Spade rushed in to break the hold. He continued to stomp on Spark as the referee attempted to force him back into the corner. As the referee's, and Spark's, back were turned toward the DW corner, Ace came up from behind with a bulldog on Spark, following it up with a slingshot legdrop to add a little spice. He covered.
ONE...
T-- no, not really enough.
"With eight men in the ring, it could be a long while before any one of these men is sufficiently weary to succumb to a pinfall!" Gordon said.
"Well let's hope it doesn't take TOO long... I've got several hookers waiting!" said Renton.
Gordon answered back, with an uncharacteristically cutting remark, "Yes, but enough about your mom and her friends."
Renton sufficiently burned, Gordon got back to calling the action, which saw a stunned Spark walk into a Polish Hammer from Ace Creede. Dazed, he was also hit with a reverse DDT and a long series of restholds, before Ace had lowered Spark's stamina to the point where he could tag in the champion himself, Dark Ninja.
Ninja caught Spark in the act of crawling over to the D-T corner to tag in one of his partners, dragging the future challenger back over to DW's corner and... tagged Psycho back in!
Ninja turned to the audience and delivered his "signature" phrase -- "THAT JUST HAPPENED!"
"Dark Ninja, again avoiding seeing any action in this match," Gordon commented.
"Gordo, I think you're seeing patterns where no patterns exist."
Nevertheless, Psycho began to hold the boot to Spark's throat, grabbing the top rope for leverage, until the count of five. He then lifted Spark over his head and gave him a mighty press slam. He put his boot over Spark and held it there for a "cocky pin." Of course, Psycho being Psycho, it was more of a "blank staring" pin, and it's just as likely he put his foot there, forgot about it, and got distracted by something in the rafters, as he appeared to be staring off into space while doing it. In any case, the referee counted...
ONE...
TWO...
No, it was not enough. Spark kicked out. The crowd went nuts. Psycho brought Spark up to his feet, but Spark managed to get control with a powerful shove, tagging out to Proteus!
Proteus ducked Psycho's initial strike, coming alive like a seasoned vet, throwing Psycho to one corner with a hip toss, knocking Spade Creede off the apron into the guardrail, hammering Ace Creede's head into the turnbuckle, sending him to the apron, and pulling Dark Ninja into the ring. The crowd went nuts, as the man who had very obviously been avoiding actual physical work all night was now being forced to take some serious punishment.
As a gesture of good will, Proteus tagged in El Avestruz. Avestruz was determined to make a stand against Dark Ninja. Proteus whipped Ninja against the ropes, and El Avestruz hit him with a huge dropkick! The crowd went nuts!
With Dark Ninja laid out in the centre of the ring, El Avestruz ascended the top rope. This could very well be the most important Shooting Star Press he had ever delivered...
He hit it! On the outside, Proteus and FTW were urging their support that El Avestruz finish the match in short order. But in all the commotion, he forgot one key fact...
Dark Ninja was not the legal man. And the legal man, the towering Psycho, had been playing possum. He dropped Proteus on his head outside the ring and was fixing his sights on the legal man for team D-T.
Psycho began to toy with El Avestruz for an extended period of time. No matter what offence the small Avestruz could mount, it wasn't enough to overcome the sheer size and brutality he represented. All his speed and guts were not proving very helpful. He couldn't break away to tag out, as Psycho was constantly keeping himself between El Avestruz and D-T's corner. And all the while, Dark Ninja was making his way back to DW's corner.
Finally, Psycho laid El Avestruz out with a Psycho Bomb!
He covered...
ONE...
TWO...
NO! El Avestruz managed to kick out!
The kid from the Super Squad suddenly managed to get to his feet. He was panting in exhaustion, but he was ready to come alive! He got Psycho down with a low drop kick and started hammering on him like it wasn't funny anymore! The audience began to throw their support behind the undersized speedster, stomping and clapping for his comeback. Psycho whipped him against the ropes and got him up for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, but El Avestruz managed to reverse him into a headscissors! With Psycho down, he sprung off the ropes with an Asai elbowdrop, that most-improbably maneuver! He covered!
ONE...
TWO...
No, Psycho pushed El Avesteruz off him and high up in the air. El Avestruz wasn't done yet, though. Avoiding a powerslam attempt, climbed on Psycho's back for a sleeper hold. Psycho sluggishly schlepped the smaller superstar around the ring.
"If El Avestruz can cut off Psycho's air supply, he won't be able to continue the match!" Gordon explained.
"Yeah-- also, he'll be dead!" Renton added.
However, there was another important facet he'd neglected. In all the commotion, Psycho had tagged out to Dark Ninja.
DIRECTOR'S CUT!
On the outside, the Creedes had kept FTW distracted with a wild brawl on the outside, and Proteus looked seriously injured. In the middle of the ring, Dark Ninja covered the man who was not supposed to be in the match.
That Just Happened.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!!
"Here are your winners... team DW!"
The crowd booed vehemently as Ninja gloated over his bittersweet-at-best victory. FTW took notice of this, and after disposing of the Creedes with a couple of well-aimed ringpost irish whips, took to the ring to face down the two men they'd soon be challenging for the titles.
A staredown ensued. Before long, the champions were joined by their cohorts, the Creedes. The challengers were outnumbered 2 to one. That's when "Draw the Line" by Aerosmith hit and the crowd erupted. Injuries or no, Showtime was on the scene!
It was still a 4-on-3 effort, but FTW managed to dump the Creedes over the top rope while Showtime kept both members of DW busy in the ring. He hit Psycho with a right, then Ninja with a Right, then Psycho with a left, until the two grabbed him and whipped him against the ropes. He baseball slid under the bottom and came back with a slingshot dropkick with alarmingly sharp reflexes.
"It makes you wonder why he didn't just participate in the match!" Renton said.
"Better late than never!" Gordon replied.
DW were both about to get back up to their feet when Proteus rushed into the ring and knocked Psycho down with a SHINING WIZARD! Showtime looked to be aiming his Standing Ovation superkick at Ninja, but he bailed through the ropes, calling his teammates over to him in the aisle, as FTW joined theirs in the ring.
The second last image of the show was Ninja pointing at the assembly in the ring and shaking his head.
The last image was of Noid and Spark, with the former champs Showtime and Proteus, ready for the next round. Showtime mouthed three words to a livid Dark Ninja: "That Just Happened."
| Winner by Pinfall, Dream Warriors And Creede Bros! |
|---|
CREDITS
Previously on the Fighting Zone - Keith
The. Conclusion. V - K
No body's watching, they are now! - Ed/Dusty
Zed Versus Ampske - K
Contractual Agreements - Dusty
D-T Detour - Scott
The Last Vine - Cordero
Judasbleek Versus Benjamin Jones - Cordero
No Order - Cordero
Boxes and Boxes - Scott
Wyman Versus 'Black Death' Rath Sammarino Versus Jupiter - K
A brief and strange interlude - K
The Violence in Malta - Keith
El desafio suicida - Ed/Dusty
EDL Versus Zatch Rollins - Ed
Checking in with Special K - K/Keegan
We'll see - Scott
TFZ: 4CW's Man Mountain Versus Johannes Antonious de Castonovo - Dusty
Challenge - K
disturbing - K
World Championship: Ten To One - Keegan
Not a thing - Scott
On the Case - K
As The World Turns - Dusty
8-Man Tag: D-T/FTW Versus DW/Creedes - Jake/Scott
The Keystone Championship was defended as a part of the NA Championship in an interpromotional match at F.A.T.E?
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