At first glance, they appear to be two simple doors, side by side, the 'EXIT' sign above them seeming to state that they are an escape from the XL Center, leading out into a cool summer evening in Hartford, CT.

But on this night, on this occasion, at least one individual doesn't seem to care that the doors are marked as an exit out of the arena. For him, they're the quickest way to get where he's going.

The door on the left is pulled open in violent fashion. Leaving the bustle of the streets behind, The Next in Line steps into the confines of the XL Center, and over 15,000 fans immediately make their voices heard.

RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
Boooooooooooooooooooooo!

All of the cheers, the handfuls of boos... none of them phase the 5 Star Champion and #1 Contender to the Universal Title. Kaiser Vashaun simply lets the door slam shut behind him and begins a fast-paced march down the corridor, clearly some place to be.

Slowly, the camera pans away and in his right hand, dragging across the tiled floor, is a Mattingly baseball bat.

This sight raises a pop from the crowd. They don't care what its intended for (although it probably wouldn't take more than one guess to figure out), they just want to see it put to good use.

As Kaiser barrels down the hallway, he rounds a corner and bumps into the always-ready Matt Mills.

Matt Mills: Kaiser! Kaiser, you look like you're making a b-line for some place very specific.

Kaiser Vashaun: Someone very specific.

Matt Mills: You appear to be carrying a weapon with you there? What's going on?

Kaiser Vashaun: At ReVolution 200, I made a deal with the devil. I agreed to team-up with Jason Snow at his urging. And not surprisingly, he stabbed me in the back first chance he got. So tonight... tonight I'm looking for a little bit of revenge.

The Next in Line begins to continue on, but Mills quickly steps in front of him, not quite done with his interview.

Matt Mills: Kaiser, a lot of people would say you already got your revenge. After Snow caused your elimination via the superkick known as Snake Eyes, you returned the favor with The Weight of...

Kaiser Vashaun: That was a reflex, Mills. Instinct. Don't confuse that with retribution. Just like I told Snow, I'm a man of my word. And I promised him that if he crossed me at ReV 200, I'd take his head off.

The 5 Star Champion lifts the bat into the shot, staring at grains of the wood with a cold look in his eyes.

Kaiser Vashaun: Time to make good on that promise.

YYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

While the vast majority of the fans go nuts, The Next in Line shrugs past Mills and heads off down another backstage corridor in search of revenge.

Wherever it may be hiding.

A loud thumping drumbeat mingles with a heavy sounding guitar and a new wave of music introduces itself to ReVolution.

The overwhelming frame of Hessian wields itself into the scene. He's covered in blood, standing over the broken body of Fusenshoff with the Intense Championship held high above his head.

Yeah, I get it
You're an outcast.

Nine delivers a series of throws in the Dual Halo, making his presence felt as one of the best judo specialists in the world of professional wrestling.

Always under attack.

Christian Daniels catches Lindsay Troy in the middle of her Crowning Glory, lifts her off the canvas and launches her through the announce table.

Always coming in last,
Bringing up the past.

Wade Elliott sneers at Bryan Dawkins and puts a boot into his ribs.

No one owes you anything.
I think you need a shotgun blast,
A kick in the ass,

Chainz stares into the camera with a sadistic glare.

So paranoid...
Watch your back!

Kaiser Vashaun spikes Lindsay Troy into the canvas, putting the Weight of the Worlds on her shoulders for the pinfall victory, cementing his status in PRIME.

Oh my, here we go...

Another lose cannon gone bi-polar
Slipped down, couldn't get much lower.

Duke Williams staring into the camera, preparing to get whiskey bent and hell bound.

Quicksand's got no sense of humor.
I'm still laughing like hell.

Lindsay Troy stands, hands on hips, smirking at the camera, a Universal Championship over each shoulder.

You think that the cryin to me,
Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe,
You've been infected by a social disease.
Well, then take your medicine.

Devin Shakur lifts Tyler Rayne high into the air and powerbombs his unconscious body into the canvas with authority.

I created the Sound of Madness.
Wrote the book on pain.
Somehow I'm still here

Meat taking full advantage of an opportunity, wraps his arm around Skillet's head and DDTs him onto a steel chair from the ring apron.

To explain,
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.

A trademark pair of red sunglasses stares back at the camera, belonging to the man who holds the most titles ever in PRIME, Killean Sirrajin.

When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

DUI fight for their lives in a bar room brawl against Wicked Ways.

I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality,
If there's an afterlife,
Then it'll set you free.

Soaring through the air like nobody else on the roster, Bryan Dawkins delivers a 'Hang Loose' gesture in mid-air before slamming into the body of High Flyer.

But I'm not gonna part the seas
You're a self-fulfilling prophecy.

A well manicured hand swings the camera around to view the self proclaimed most gorgeous face in PRIME, Chandler Tsonda.

You think that cryin to me,
Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe,
You've been infected by a social disease.
Well, then take your medicine.

Garbage Bag Johnny eliminates Jason Snow and Chandler Tsonda to acquire a shot at the Universal Championship and win the Golden Ticket.

I created the Sound of Madness.
Wrote the book on pain.
Somehow I'm still here,

Jonathan Rhine puts both Hessian and Wade Elliott down with individual Rhine Rewinds.

To explain,
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.

David Noble coldly blinks into the camera. Soon, he will be known to the wrestling world as an absolute beast.

When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

The Redeemed ready to make an impact on PRIME.

I created the Sound of Madness.
Wrote the book on pain.
Somehow I'm still here

Veljumin Rippa and Scraps throw Tyler Rayne through a window at ReVolution 187.

To explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.

The Wolves of Slaughter interacting with an unfortunate Matt Mills, signifying their arrival in PRIME.

When you gonna wake up...
When you gonna wake up and fight...

Jason Natas slugs Jay Phoenix with a powerful right hand, returning to PRIME with a vengeance in the Dual Halo.

I created the Sound of Madness.
Wrote the book on pain.
Somehow I'm still here,
To explain,
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.

Troy Douglas sends Dusk to the End of the Road and captures the Intense Championship back at UltraViolence 08.

You can sleep with a gun.
When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

Jay Phoenix soars through the air and takes out Hunter Sabuani.

When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

Lisa Tyler sits behind her desk, arms folded across, creepy boss glare into the camera.

When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

Jason Snow stands with the Universal Championship firmly over his shoulder. The top dog of PRIME.

When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

PRIME...Number One by Definition.

Backstage, meet Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas, seven-time holder of the hardest-name-to-spell-in-pro-wrestling award. Also: he's kind of popular.

[RAH]

Oh, wait, that doesn't work on this side of the tracks, does it? Let's try that again.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Better.

As is his wont, PRIME's head of security is standing at the Wrestler and Guest Entrance, his arms folded over his chest, his jaw set, eyes forward. All business is our Dam, at least right this instant. Something has caught his eye, something he's rather more than a little disconcerted by.

"Jesus, that's a big guy. Isn't he a big guy?"
"'E's a fuggin' big sumbitch, yeh."
"Has anyone ever told you you're pretty big?"

What is the sound of two assholes clapping? Let's pan slightly to the left to find out what kind of jerks we're faced with tonight. It's two men, that's for sure. One of them is big, build like a barrel with a head like a bucket. There's a cigar jammed between his lips, bushy eyebrows curled over beady, hazel eyes. The other man – the one who'd done most of the talking – scratches at the back of his neck. He's lanky, with a sharpness hidden by his sunken eyes. In contrast to his bigger associate's utilitarian garb, the second man wears tan slacks and a "Did You Know You're A Stupid Whore?" t-shirt. He's also carrying a title belt that sure doesn't look like any PRIME hardware we're familiar with.

Of course, given that the faceplate says this is the "World Championship of Beating Dusk," that probably isn't a surprise.

These gentlemen are Roderick Ashe and Lane Stevens, respectively, and the swell of boos from inside the building probably means that they are just about as happy to see them as Dam is.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: Whatchu boys think you doin'?

Stevens – they call him the "River Rat" – flashes a grin that could only really ever be called "unsavory".

Lane Stevens: We were thinking of going inside. I thought that was obvious. Was I being too subtle?

Roderick Ashe: I unnerstood.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: That don' work for me, hoss.

Lane tips a grin up to his larger associate.

Lane Stevens: Oh, shit. That doesn't work for him. I think we should just leave.

Roderick Ashe: Mebbe, but we don' really need his permission, do we?

Here's a secret: while Ashe and Stevens are particularly objectionable folks, there's a reason any savvy PRIME fan is unhappy to see them – nor are they the cause for Dam being a little on edge.

"Roderick, no."

No, the real reason for all this animosity would be the third member of their party, striding briskly towards the vanguard that proceeded her. If you haven't guessed yet (and shame on you if you don't know), here are some more hints:
1.) Features chiseled from porcelain.
2.) Hard, stony gray eyes, like chips of granite.
3.) A mass of messy curls the color of clotted blood.
4.) An immaculate white pantsuit, pleats sharp enough to cause a papercut.

You may remember her from the explosive Cataclysm last fall. Her name's Alexandra Pierce. You can call her "Desade".

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: Was wonderin' when you'd show.

Desade: Good evening, Fuqueiawytas.

She says it flawlessly.

Desade: I am gladdened so little has changed during my time away.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: S'okay. You still a stone-cold biatch.

Desade: I will ask you nicely to please stand aside, Dametreyus. I have no quarrel with you.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: Maybe I gots one wit'chu. Angie ain't been back to work since you had her dropped on a damn car hood, you know. What makes you figger I just let you in, this time with an all-new set of goons?

The River Rat steps forward to the Spider's shoulder, his grin a small, brittle thing.

Lane Stevens: Now you're just being rude. The lady asked nicely and everything, and this is how you treat her? Did your mother not teach you respect? Because I'd be happy to give it a shot.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: Bring yer puppy to heel, Pierce. Ain't but one way you gettin' in tonight, an' that's—

" Dametreyus."

As with Pierce earlier, it takes but a single word to quiet the big, brick wall of a man, spoken by a soft voice that brooked no disagreement. Dam slides to the side, revealing the slight form of Lisa Tyler, who'd somehow crept up behind him. Lisa steps forward, her expression unreadable. Dam folds his arm over his chest in triumph.

Desade: Good evening, Ms. Tyler.

Lisa Tyler: Ms. Pierce. You are not here to cause any trouble in my arena tonight, are you?

Desade: I am merely an observer.

Lisa Tyler: And those two?

Desade: I thought it wise to bring some assistance, in the event there is discord in regards to my being here.

Lisa Tyler: Certainly a reasonable fear.

Desade: Well... (Her smile tightens.) I would not term it a "fear".

Lisa's hand lifts, touching her chest in a gesture meant to convey regret, but the emotion never quite reaches her eyes.

Lisa Tyler: Forgive me; I must have misspoken.

Desade: As you say.

There is a certain tension in the air; these are two alpha females, each unwilling to back down. Were it just them, we could have been here for hours.

Luckily (or perhaps not), it isn't just the two of them.

Lane Stevens: Look, can we go in or not?

Lisa flicks just her eyes at the River Rat, letting just a touch of her scorn leak into her gaze, enough that Lane's lips curl downward.

Lisa Tyler: Of course you may.

Nick (OSV): What?

Dam's arms unfold, the only sign of his irritation.

Lisa Tyler: Your skybox has been arranged as agreed. I hope you enjoy the show.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: You can't just let this bitch in here, boss.

Lisa turns her cool gaze to the big man, her lips pressed together.

Lisa Tyler: Ms. Pierce and her associates are honored guests in conjunction with her bout at Colossus VI. I apologize if I left her name off the list, Dametreyus.

She never looks away from the Director, however.

Lisa Tyler: If you;ll just head inside, Alexandra, one of my staff will show you the way.

Pierce's expression doesn't even flicker as she strides past the pair, but Lane stops to throw an arm around Dam's shoulder. He has to reach up to manage.

Lane Stevens: Tell you what there, buddy. I think you should be nicer to Miss Pierce. She's a sweet lady, and... well, if you keep calling her bad names, I may have to get offended. And I'm far too lazy to waste energy on a rent-a-cop, okay?

He slaps Dam on the shoulder with a cheery grin.

Lane Stevens: I like you. You're fun. And that name! (low whistle) IM-pressive, my man, really.

Desade (OSV): Lane.

Lane Stevens: Whoop, stayed too long. Gotta go, bye!

Once the River Rat catches up with his fellows, Dam turns his glower on his boss, but she does not offer him an answer and the big man keeps his own counsel, so let's cut elsewhere.

Nick: Let's get things started Hartfo...

HOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

Immediately the crowd jeers at the sound of a wolf howl that goes directly into "The Beast And The Harlot" by Avenged Sevenfold. Elise Ares breaks through the curtain first, her eyes closed staring upwards and her arms stretched out. She showers herself in the large cheering crowd reaction that she only hears in her mind as Kazys Jankaukas follows behind her. Wearing a leather bikini style top with blue-violet tribal patterns across it, Elise comes to a stop and looks across the arena with a smirk as the powerful Kazys towers behind her. He walks down with his usual stoic persona still in tact. She looks back at her personal bodyguard/tag team partner/possibly only friend/maybe just a hint of envy of Universal Title shot holder in before focusing back down towards the ring.

This shining city built of gold
A far cry from innocence
There's more than meets the eye round here
Look to the waters of the deep
A city of evil

Nick: And it looks like we're starting things off with the top two in last weeks huge Power Play Battle Royal. The last image we saw on ReVolution was the victory of The Iron Wolf Kazys Jankauskas. Now the holder of a banked Universal Championship shot. His last elimination is the woman who is... prancing (?) out to the ring with him.

Richard: I'm kind of curious on how Elise Ares is going to handle this. She hasn't been in PRIME long but she doesn't seem to be a graceful loser thus far. She's in it to win it, one has to wonder if there is any hostility here? I mean no one shows up for second place, but she sure seems to be taking it well. Look at her!

Nick: I think you can feel just a little tension in the air between the two as they come out here. Something is just a bit off, wouldn't you say?

Richard: What did you say? Sorry I wasn't paying attention, I was looking at that ass.

Nick: I hope you're talking about Elise.

Richard: I'm sorry, did you say something again?

Vince Howard: Introducing... Elise Ares and Kazys Jankauskas, THE WOLLLLLLLVES OF SLAAAAAAUUUUUUUGHTER!

Running up the stairs Elise wraps her arms around the ropes and faces the crowd, shaking her hips to the music with a smile before sitting on the middle rope and letting Kazys into the ring. With a bit of hesitation (the man isn't a big fan of confrontation), The Iron Wolf steps into the squared circle with a conflicted confident yet uncertain aura as Vince Howard greets them in the ring with a microphone. Elise takes it without thinking twice and literally shoves him aside before putting it up to her lips.

Elise Ares: AHEM.

As the music cuts off the volume of the arena certainly doesn't as jeers shower down upon them from the rafters. This Hartford crowd was definitely looking forward to a Jay Phoenix victory speech after Revolution 200. Sometimes wishes just don't come true.

Elise Ares: Who were you expecting to see down here to open the show? Chandler Tsonda? Jason Snow? Or maybe you were expecting to see Jay Phoenix rise from the ashes of mediocrity to finally lay claim to a shot at the big one in PRIME. I know! I know... those stories would've been HUGE, am I right? But something even bigger happened here last week.

Nick: Oh please...

Elise Ares: The TRUE biggest names in PRIME dominated the headlines of the newspaper. Elise Ares and Kazys Jankauskas win big at Power Play. We walked into the middle of Madison Square Garden in the middle of the so-called Greatest City In The World... and we put on the single greatest show that this company has ever seen. When all the dust settled, there was a shining star with their name up in lights at the top of the sports universe and that name was...

The Havana Harlot looked back at Kazys Jankauskas with a smile and then back out at her "adoring" fans.

Elise Ares: Elise Ares.

Nick: WHAT?!

Richard: WHAT?!

The look on Kazys Jankauskas' face shows that he's thinking the same thing as Elise looks back at her tag team partner, who is obviously either insulted or infuriated. Either isn't good. Kazys is handed his own mic into the ring by a daring crew member as The Wolf In Sheep's Clothing is trying to figure out what the problem is.

He raises a thick, dark eyebrow at Elise, and speaks only one word.

Kazys Jankauskas: And?

Elise Ares: And... you're welcome for me talking you into joining PRIME so you could win the battle royal and gain a Universal Title shot for The Wolves Of Slaughter?

Kazys rolls his eyes.

Kazys Jankauskas: Something like that. I guess.

Nick: You know, there are some things Elise Ares just doesn't seem to... grasp.

Richard: What I don't grasp is why these fans are so rude. I mean, what she said was pretty much true, right?

Nick: If you believe that the world revolves around Elise.

Richard: It doesn't?

Elise Ares: You did a good job out there, I'm proud of you. You see what you proved to millions of people around the world is that I hired the only person in this place who can keep me from getting what I came here for. The love and adoration of millions... well... you know, most people. Give or take a few, a talented girl like myself can afford to be a little picky about who she has hanging all over her. And the opportunity to show the world that when I... and Kaz. See I didn't forget you! When me and Kaz put our minds to it, we can do whatever in the hell we want.

Nick: How noble of her to put herself out here in public for all of us to worship her.

Richard: It truly is a sacrifice.

Nick: I was being sarcastic.

Richard: You'll never understand.

Nick: I agree, I don't think I will. Are they almost done?

A slight smirk comes over Kaz's rugged features.

Kazys Jankauskas: I'd think they'd be more offended by the fact that I wasn't really trying...

BOOOOOOO!

Nick: That... just... -really?- He's going to disrespect the efforts of the entire roster in that match?

Richard: What, can't you take a joke? I know a joke when I hear one.

Nick: And I know plain arrogance when I hear it too.

Elise Ares: Except for there at the end right?

Elise looks back at Kazys, who just stares blankly back at her. Luckily for Elise Ares, she has the attention span of a Goldfish with A.D.D. on Cocaine.

Elise Ares: Alright, back to business. The reason I came out here tonight is to show all of you fans exactly what I'm talking about. You're looking at the single greatest female competitor that PRIME has ever seen. I made my rounds backstage at Revolution 200, no one wanted to face me. Hiding behind facades of acting like they didn't know who I was, but I know better. I'm a smart girl, you see... I can sense fear in hearts of my opponents. I'm not just another wolf in the PRIME pack, I'm the Alpha Female of PRIME.

BOOOOOOOO!

Elise Ares: And tonight I'm going to prove it. You see a month ago or so, give or take, when I was mesmerizing the world with my existence a certain woman on the PRIME roster had a shot at The Elite Championship. She tried to show that she belonged in a man's world, and instead of looking pretty and walking people down to ringside she decided to try and step into the ring and represent the women of this promotion and frankly... her performance was embarrassing.

Nick: I'm not Ruby's biggest fan but she left it all in the ring!

Richard: She still lost.

Nick: I thought you liked Ruby?

Richard: I do, but Elise does have a point.

Elise Ares: She let some SCCW "hotshot" come in here and walk all over her, and ever since then I can't just sit back and let that loser represent what females here in PRIME are all about. That's why tonight I'm calling you out Ruby. I'm challenging you to a one-on-one match in this very ring. You've had time to heal from your injuries so you can't use that as an excuse. Now if you have time between talking up Wicked Ways and letting them know what good little doggies they've been winning those Tag Team Championships they haven't defended, I'd like to show you an ass-kicking that you could never get from a member of the SCCW locker room.

MIXEDREACTIONZZZZZZ

The cause of it all is KoRn’s energetic "Falling Away from Me" blasting through the XL Center audio system. Two mean mothers step from the back, golden belts over their shoulders, and stand atop the rampway. Neither has mic nor breasts, so it is clear the person Elise is looking for is not either of them. By way of the Red Sea, they part, revealing a woman who some would love to knock out while others would only dream of knocking up.

Ruby.

Ruby: Can you please shut up, Elise? I saw the whole Special Show shenanigans between you two, and well, to be quite frank? The way you two work together reminds me a lot of, well, that outfit you have on. Trashy, trite, and full of holes.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH

Ruby: So now, you two really need to consider if you want me to put one of you through a wall or both of you? Please, discuss.

Elise Ares: I'm sorry... I don't speak fail. I tried to follow but I got lost after your lips started moving. It was all "blah, blah, blah, me no talk good I just look pretty and walk boys down to the ring." So I need to ask you something, and I want you to try to articulate this in a language I can understand as best as you can. I'll talk slowly ooookkkaaayyy? Are... you... ready... to... lose... to... Elise... tonight?

Ruby: You’ve got yourself a date.

Elise Ares: That's fantastic! Because while last week was the emergence of The Wolves Of Slaughter to greatness... tonight is when our dominance begins. You see we're not content on earning some quick championships and camping on them as long as PRIME allows. While you guys are in the back looking at your tag titles amazed that you managed to find the single team out there more incompetent than you are, we're winning... and we're making it look easy. You know, easy... just like you Ruby.

She answers just with a glare, Wicked Ways appear to be holding her back from ripping Elise Ares in half right now.

Elise Ares: But alas I'm a busy girl and I'm in demand, I don't have all night to stand here and look beautiful for you all. That's a valets job, right Rub? Kaz lets go get ready to teach this bitch a lesson in Pack Mentality. Then after we humiliate little miss thinks-she's-a-big-girl-wrestler, we can talk a little bit more about our Universal Title shot.

Kazys' eyes grow a little wide as if he's saying "You really are out of your mind, aren't you?"

Elise Ares: ...Your Universal Title shot. Hit our music.

"Beast And The Harlot" by Avenged Sevenfold hit as Ruby puts the mic up to her lips to respond, but it's too late. Tapping the mic she tries to get a response, and Scraps quickly reassures her that she'll get her chance to respond in the ring tonight. She points back up at The Wolves Of Slaughter in the ring and mouths something along the lines of "Truck fool, you're Fred tonight." Only it wasn't exactly like that.

Nick: I do sometimes really question if Elise Ares is mentally capable of competing in PRIME. Yet every week she seems to pull it off somehow.

Richard: Her IQ scores were off the chart, though.

Nick: Who told you that?

Richard: Elise did. Did you know she scored 2650 on the SAT?

Nick: That's not even possible.

Richard: I didn't think so either, but she did. She's just that good.

Nick: You'd believe anything if it came out of Elise's mouth.

Richard: I never pay enough attention to anything above her chest to realize where it's coming from.

Nick: I figured as much. Regardless it looks like we're going to have a match between Ruby and Elise Ares tonight. It's time to see if the runner-up of the Power Play Battle Royal can back up her performance with another show stealer tonight!

Richard: I'm looking forward to it, you have to think Kazys Jankauskas and Wicked Ways are going to find their way into this match.

Nick: As much as I'd like to see a clean match, I can't disagree with you there.

Richard: Or ever Nick, or ever.

"How are you feeling, Ty?"

Tyrell Dawkins looked up to find Marquis Peeples standing in front of a door that is slowly closing. He smiles and gives the man a nod, then returns to taping up his wrists.

Tyrell Dawkins: Yeah, I'm fine, man.

Marquis walks over and puts his hand on Tyrell's shoulder, the one that got hit with splintered wood during the attack on his life a few nights prior.

Tyrell Dawkins: Hey, watch it!

Dawkins winced under the slight pressure, and Marquis just shook his head.

Marquis Peeples: Look, I know this match is important for us, to you, but you need to take it easy. What happens to us if Meat hurts you even more? The guy isn't going to take it easy on you. Hell, he might focus on your shoulder.

Tyrell pauses, looking up to face his partner.

Tyrell Dawkins: I've got some bruising, and one of the splinters wasn't able to get pulled out, but I can do this. You better believe that the bullet would have had to go through my chest to keep me from competing tonight.

He continues to tape his wrist.

Marquis Peeples: I'm sorry about that, you know.

Tyrell Dawkins: I know you are, but you don't need to be. You did the right thing by turning Sandman into the cops, and that is something you'll never have to apologize to me about.

Marquis stares at the ground, a sudden uneasiness can be seen.

Marquis Peeples: But it's my fault. They could've killed you.

Tyrell Dawkins: They didn't. I'm here, and that is all that matters. So, stop worrying about what could have happened and get ready for what is going to happen.

Marquis lifts his attention away from the white speck on his black boots and looks back at Tyrell.

Marquis Peeples: So you're ready then?

Tyrell Dawkins: I guess we're about to find out.

Marquis Peeples: Then let's go find out.

Nick: We're just about to get our first match of the night underway.

Richard: Are you sure there isn't anything we can cut to?

Nick: I'm positive.

Richard: Hessian isn't taking a drink of water backstage? That's going to be more entertaining than this catastrophe.

Nick: You know we dedicate a good amount of time on each show to wrestling. We are a wrestling company after all.

Richard: But dude, The Redeemed are like a cup of weak coffee and Meat is past his expiration date.

Nick: Those are the best insults you can come up with?

Richard: I'm cranky, dammit. This is going to be worse than watching a women's match circa 1995.

Nick: Well, regardless of whether or not you like it, we're going to fade up to Vince Ho-

Richard: Is that your new pet name for our ring announcer?

Nick: Hang on, I'm getting something in my ear.

Richard: How can you get something there when nothing exists to begin with?

Nick: ...Well, apparently you are going to get your wish because I'm being told we have something going down elsewhere and have to cut there.

Richard: Hallelujah!

Out in the XL Center parking lot, things are quiet. Most of the superstars have already packed into the building after hearing Lisa Tyler was in one of her moods, hell bent on targeting GCW. Even though everybody outside of GBJ and Hessian are loyal followers of PRIME, nobody wants to draw ire from The Boss in any capacity.

Well except those with a permanent Get out of Jail Free card and have the boss wrapped around their finger like a yo-yo.

The camera turns on and is immediately invaded by high beam headlights. The unfortunate sap holding the equipment has to shift his head to the side and avoid shattering his assignment all over the concrete. He doesn't get enough money annually to pay for the damage that could be done.

However, the camera manages to get a look at the license plate on the front of the vehicle.

ASSHOLE

Its evident that the person driving the car intentionally flashed the camera because he enjoys the role of nefarious douchebag. A shade of black darker than a desert night swoops around the corner and nestles comfortably into a parking space. Coming to a rest one spot over is a motorcycle, engine roaring like an alpha male signaling his arrival. The blatant arrogance and pseudo debonairness causes 16,000 stomachs to knot up and produces a single wave of discontent.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick (OSV): Well, ReVolution just got a lot darker.

Richard (OSV): If they come out here, I'm busting out the poncho because I get soaked in beer by all these haters and I can't have my dress shirts ruined on a weekly basis.

The bike comes to a stop at the same time the Lamborghini door shoots into the air. A black trenchcoat glides over the concrete while the camera pans up to get the money shot of The Man in Black, Devin Shakur. Just the sight of his face is enough to send the crowd into a state of anger they won't reach for the rest of the evening. Jason Snow might be the most condescending, Hessian and Garbage Bag Johnny might be the scariest, and Chainz might be the sickest, but Shakur and Daniels are the most evil entity on the roster.

The Biker stops his humming piece of machinery and joins his brother in walking across the parking lot toward the building.

Nick (OSV): Tonight, Dawkins and Shakur are going to attempt for a second time to sign their Colossus contract. After the events of ReVolution 200, I can't believe Dawkins is going to be in much of a mood to negotiate.

Richard (OSV): He will be left with no other choice. Shakur doesn't do anything that isn't on his terms.

The cameraman is just about to turn his device off when the entrance door opens and someone steps out, impeding the brothers path into the building.

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick (OSV): Oh boy.

The sight of Bryan Dawkins brings a smile on Shakur and Daniels face. Last week, they were able to pull off the ultimate con and make everybody believe that Tyler Rayne returned to extract his revenge on Shakur. Dawkins bought it. Tsonda bought it. The crowd bought it. Even the fans at home who freaked out on the message boards bought it. Yet in the end, Shakur was revealed to be "Tyler Rayne" under heavy makeup.

However, Dawkins is not rushing at them with a pipe or screaming his head off in anger. Instead, he's leaning against the door with a smile of his own. This is not lost on the brothers who share a glance with one another before moving forward a few more steps.

Christian Daniels: You lost or somethin', boy? I'd suggest gettin' while its good, otherwise you gonna end up thrown out like yer boy, T Rayne.

The smug look doesn't leave Dawkins face and he doesn't move.

Devin Shakur: Look, if you want an autograph, since even you have to admit we got one over on you, I'll be more than glad to give you one after I get settled with a few Pepsi's.

The Bruh still doesn't move from his stance, but is now shaking his head back and forth, chuckling lightly.

Christian Daniels: The hell you find so funny?

Bryan Dawkins: Well bruhs, I will give you credit where credit is due. Last week, you got me. I got punked, bruh. Kudos to you fruit cakes for cookin' that one up. Although, rest assure, bruh, ain't none of that going to matter when we get in the ring at Colossus. You ain't gonna have the big ogre to help you once the bell rings. I'm gonna make you pay.

Devin Shakur: Kid, let's get one thing straight, you haven't beaten me before when it counted. I've beaten you twice and humiliated you a couple other times. Just because the venue changes doesn't mean the game does.

Bryan Dawkins: You can keep believin' whatever you want, bruh. I got a wider skill set than you and a hell of a lot of motivation. You ain't gonna keep me down when all the chips go in, bruh.

Devin Shakur: Quit believing your own hype, junior. Nobody expects you to win against me because we all know that you don't have what it takes to finish me off.

Bryan Dawkins: I don't need to finish you off to pin your shoulders to the mat, bruh, and that's all I gotta do. And hey, lemme ask you this since it is tradition, how about we do another Pardon the Interruption on 203 where I laugh in your face while you sulk like an emo pansy.

Shakur rolls his eyes and looks over to The Biker.

Christian Daniels: Why don't you save all the chit chat for the ring, punk, and step aside.

Bryan Dawkins: I'm afraid I can't do that, bruh.

Christian Daniels: Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you in the hospital.

"Actually, Mr. Daniels, you won't be putting anybody anywhere this evening."

From behind The Biker, a cavalcade of blue and red lights illuminate the parking lot. Daniels turns around while Shakur stares straight ahead and is forcefully backed up by three police officers. Daniels sees the cars come to a complete a stop and two more officers step out from the vehicles walking toward the duo.

Christian Daniels: The hell is this?

Bryan Dawkins: I'd like you bruhs to meet Officer Parker and some of the Hartford Police Department. They are gonna be your guardians for the next couple weeks.

Shakur surveys the scene with a slight amount of shock on his face.

Devin Shakur: This is a joke right? Dawkins, hanging around with Tsonda, you more than anybody ought to know that you need a cowboy, construction worker and Jay Phoenix to create the Village People. Five cops doesn't cut it.

Officer Parker steps in front of Dawkins and into the private space of The Biker, while the other officers surround his hulking seven foot frame.

Officer Parker: Mr. Daniels, we are going to have to place you under arrest.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Devin Shakur: (bug eyed) WHAT?

Christian Daniels: ...You gotta be shittin' me.

Officer Parker: We aren't, sir. Place your arms behind your back.

Christian Daniels: The hell I am.

Devin Shakur: I'm not allowing this shit to happen!

Officer Parker: You have the right to-

Devin Shakur: Hold the phone a minute, Sarah J. You aren't taking him anywhere until you tell us what he's being arrested for. I'll buy your damn police force out and fire your asses before you even get back to the station.

After glancing over at Shakur and reaching at his pocket for a nightstick, Parker looks up and addresses The Biker.

Officer Parker: Mr. Daniels, do you remember earlier this afternoon when you were at Johnny's Tavern?

Daniels rolls his eyes and scans the officer, fists tightening in preparation for battle. He won't go without a fight.

Christian Daniels: No fuckin' way. That stupid son of a bitch started the damn fight. I just happened to finish it!

Officer Parker: Sir, be that as it may, you beat Mr. Patterson unconscious and he's over at the hospital as we speak. He wishes to press charges against you.

Christian Daniels: Bullshit. He was crawlin' out of that bar on his hands and knees like a little bitch after I got done whoopin his ass.

Officer Parker: And he collapsed on the sidewalk while you left out the other door on your bike. I'm afraid you aren't going to be seeing any wrestling rings for quite a few months, maybe even years considering your track record.

The backup moves over to Christian and take control of his arms, clasping them together and placing the metal cuffs on. Shakur is left like a deer in the headlights while Christian tries to dig his feet into the concrete and move away from the officers. The five of them push together and move The Biker toward the lead squad car.

Christian Daniels: I'ma bust out of that damn cell, you can bet your asses on that. I'll be back, Dev, hold down the fort while I'm gone...Get the hell off my damn hair you motherfucker.

Officer Parker opens the back door and assists Christian into the vehicle.

Christian Daniels: I ain't gonna tell you fuckin twice.

Officer Parker: You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney...

While Parker continues reading the Miranda Rights, the camera cuts back to Bryan Dawkins, face brighter than ever, while Shakur scowls at the scene behind him. The Bruh puts a firm hand on Shakur's shoulder and leans in close.

Bryan Dawkins: I'll see ya out there in the ring tonight, bruh. When you are all alone with nobody to protect ya.

The Bruh pats his rival on the shoulder and strolls back into the building whistling a Hawaiian tune. Shakur watches as the door shuts and his brother is escorted from the arena and up the parking ramp.

A close up look on his face shows a slight twitch. His blinking is growing more rapid by the second and the look in his eyes suggests that he's definitely not a happy camper.

His enforcer has just been kicked out and now he must go through the night all on his own.

Devin Shakur: GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The Man in Black turns around and puts his boot into the steel door, sending it swinging backwards. Shakur palms the door when it rebounds and storms down the hall, kicking tables and shoving stagehands away en route to his locker room.

Back to ringside with Nick and Richard.

Nick: Shakur's security blanket has been taken away. Bryan Dawkins gave him up.

Richard: What the hell? That's so bush league.

Nick: I don't think it's bush league if someone is as severely injured as the officer said.

Richard: He was faking it if he really did get injured at all.

Nick: Dawkins was all too happy to concede to the officers and now Shakur has to face Dawkins later tonight with no help.

Richard: You can't treat a man of his caliber like this!

Nick: We're going to take a quick commercial break and be right back with our opening bout.

Commercial.

Richard: You know I am not really sure what just happened but I think that we may have had a power surge, or something, because I have just been told that the folks at home missed the ring entrance of both of the men now in the ring.

Nick: That is a shame, a real shame, as I can guarantee that their ring entrances are something that just shouldn’t be missed.

Richard: Oh well, it looks like we will just have to jump straight into the action instead.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick: And here we go!

Neither Meat nor Dawkins seems to want to make the first move. Warily they circle each other in the middle of the ring, neither man taking his eyes off his opponent. Meat keeping his hands up near his head and Dawkins slightly more relaxed, hands at his waist. There are fans of each of them in the audience and a quiet back and forth chant starts to ring out.

Richard: The fans are doing more than the guys in the ring.

Both men suddenly explode into action, moving forward at the same time. An immovable object meets an unstoppable force as Dawkins leads with a vicious right hand while Meat throws a clubbing forearm smash.

Nick: You were saying?

Richard: This is more like it – when was the last time we had two big guys simply try to smash the life out of each other?

Nick: Erm – last week. This is PRIME after all.

Richard: … oh yeah.

Both connect, both stagger back a step and then – as if dancing to the same unseen music – both move in synchronisation yet again. They fire a second, a third and finally a fourth time, powerful punches, forearms and uppercuts flying, until they lock up in the center of the ring.

Nick: Both men seem pretty evenly matched right now.

Richard: True enough. You have to give Meat a slight advantage, though.

Nick: Because he is more used to singles wrestling?

Richard: Yeah – that too, but mostly because the eye candy in HIS corner is much better looking. RWOAR!

Meat looks to power Dawkins into a quick headlock but is beaten to the punch; actually there isn’t a punch, it is a knee shot to the low ribs that explodes the air out of Meat’s lungs that does the trick. Meat doubles over for the briefest flicker of a second, but that is all it takes. Moving to one side Dawkins pulls Meat down into a tight side headlock, dropping to one knee as he brings his opponent to the canvas with a short hiptoss. Lying back Dawkins presses his back into Meat’s chest, twisting his neck as he tries to wear him down.

Nick: I would normally say that Dawkins is playing to his strengths – namely the power game of wear and tear – but that is both guys strengths.

Meat reaches up, grasping at the back of Dawkins head but as soon as he does Dawkins calls out for the referee who, after a quick glance, tells Meat to let go of the hair. As soon as he does so he finds his head and neck wrenched again as Dawkins resumes his groundwork. Once more his hand goes to the hair and, this time, before the referee can break the hold, he forces Dawkins to release the hold just enough for him to squirm out of it. Both men scramble to their feet.

Richard: Not the cleanest of moves but it did the trick.

This time it is Meat who gets the initiative, striking with a stinging left that does nothing but start the battle afresh as Dawkins answers directly back with a right.

Another left from Meat!

Another right from Dawkins!

An elbow strike from Meat!

A forearm strike from Dawkins!

Nick: This is is going to come down to who can take the most punishment.

Meat swings one more time, but Dawkins manages to duck under and jumps forward like a madman, pushing his shoulders into Meat’s stomach before grabbing his opponent with both arms wrapped around his waist. Meat doesn’t miss a beat and, before Dawkins can capitalise on the momentum, he is forced face first to the canvas as Meat’s elbow strikes him directly between the shoulders. First he goes to one knee, then both touch the canvas until finally - with a third mighty strike from Meat – his face connects with the mat.

Nick: Well that is the very definition of ground and pound in action!

Dropping down on top of Dawkins Meat grabs him around the face and chin, pulling back and torquing the neck as much as he can. Considering that this is Meat, that is a lot of torque. Unable to stop himself Dawkins growls out in pain and frustration, reaching forwards for the ropes that are too far for his fingers to touch.

Richard: Meat capitalising here and starting to focus on the neck.

Nick: While his finisher can come out of nowhere, the Meatbag works best when the neck and back have been weakened so he is showing some ring smarts here.

As Meat settles into the move, wrenching back on his opponent's neck, the referee kneels down in front of Dawkins and starts to ask if he wants to quit. Dawkins shakes his head, as much as he can, and growls that he isn’t finished. He starts to buck and shake, moving from side to side as Meat tries to hold on like a caricature of a cowboy on a bucking bronco rodeo ride.

Richard: This is taking its toll on Dawkins – his face is flushed and sweat is pouring down him.

Inch by inch Dawkins manages to move himself – and his near three hundred pound passenger – towards the ropes. The referee keeps a close eye on things and, as Dawkins hand is mere inches from the salvation that is the ropes, he looks up at Meat, hand ready to indicate that he needs to break the hold. Meat, however, doesn’t wait for that. Breaking the hold he quickly stands up, then drops the full weight of his body back down onto Dawkins back with the point of his elbow. Dawkins body arches, his forward momentum stopped, and the ropes are forgotten as Meat repeats the move.

Nick: Ouch – that has GOT to hurt.

Richard: Want me to ask Meat to demonstrate it, on you, after the match?

Nick: No thanks.

Richard: Are you sure? A real journalist always does his research.

Nick: Have you taken that move?

Richard: Nope – but I am not a journalist, I’m an announcer.

Pulling Dawkins back up to his feet he places his arms around his waist, locking his hands tightly together and starts to lift him up. Unfortunately he is too close to the ropes and, reaching out, Dawkins uses them to block the move. Not seeing the cause of the blockage Meat grunts, face reddening, as he puts all of his energy into lifting Dawkins off his feet – but thanks to the ropes Dawkins is able to save himself once more.

Nick: Good tactics from Dawkins – if Meat hits a German suplex he is going to be in complete control of this match.

Realising that he can’t hit the move Meat drops Dawkins to the mat, spinning him around and lashing out with a wild swing. Dawkins is ready, this time, and brings his arm up to block the punch as he responds with on of his own. Bodies close, arms tangled, and any and all grace forgotten about they tumble onto the canvas, rolling back and forth, each getting the upper hand for brief moments until they’re rolled onto their back once more. Meat looks for an armbar but Dawkins lands a right to the face! Dawkins starts to offload a barrage of strikes but lands barely a shot before Meat bucks him off and both men scramble to their feet and lock up again. This time it’s Meat with the knee strike, returning the ‘favour’ that Dawkins gave him earlier in the match. Without a pause he brings his right leg up, then his left, driving them ferociously into Dawkins’s abdomen and sternum, forcing him back toward the corner as he keeps a tight grip around Dawkins neck.

Richard: Meat’s experience – and ruthlessness – starting to shine here and now.

As Dawkins is forced into the corner he staggers, back connecting with the unforgiving post, and his hand reaches out automatically to make the tag to the man who isn’t there. Seeing this Meat’s face breaks into a broad grin and, stepping back slightly, he moves forwards as he swings a short-arm clothesline. Dawkins, not as out of it as his pretend tag made him appear, ducks under, and immediately takes hold of Meat’s arm as he fires him into the ropes.

Nick: Did Tyrell just play possum?

Richard: Well if possums have tag team partners and, when under attack, pretend to tag out to them in the hope of catching their opponent off guard then, yes, I would say that he did.

Meat rebounds off the ropes, his momentum turning him int a juggernaut, as he ducks Dawkins’s own clothesline attempt, hits the opposite ropes once more, and launches himself instantly into a Lou Thesze style press!

Nick: You don’t see Meat take to the air often.

Richard: … and that’s why!

A look of horror, for a split second, crosses Meat’s face as he hits nothing but air. Dawkins, somehow sensing what was coming, has already dropped to his face and rolls forward as Meat crashes to the mat. Dawkins clambers to his feet and as Meat unsteadily gets back to his own feet he’s met with a hard chop to the sternum that drives him back to the ropes. Dawkins chops a second time, then a third, as Meat clutches at his already reddening chest.

Richard: Do I hear a ‘WOOOOOO’?

Nick:No. No, you don’t.

Reaching out Dawkins wraps Meat up for a DDT attempt, but with a quick burst of energy, Meat lifts Dawkins up, popping his head out from beneath the arm, and dropping him down for a sickening atomic drop. With missing a beat he pulls the stunned man forwards and lifts him in a half circle ready for a pumphandle slam.

Richard: Here come’s the Meatbag!

As Meat pushes forwards, attempting to drop Dawkin’s on the back of his head, he staggers to a stop. A quick glance behind him shows that Dawkins has, somehow, managed to hook one hand and one foot on the ropes, halting his momentum. That second is all that Dawkins needs as, surprise on his side, he uses the ropes to push himself forwards and, as Meat’s body weight does the rest, slams his opponent’s face into the mat and then pulls him into a tight, small package. The referee is quick to move in.

ONE

Nick: Where the Hell did that come from?

TWO

Richard: Desperation move from Dawkins, there!

THREE

Nick: … desperate or not, it worked!

DING DING DING

Vince Howard: Your winner of this match – TYRELLLL DAWKINSSSSSSSSS!

"Are they here?"

Sitting at her desk is the face of PRIME, Lisa Tyler. Fresh off a rule-breaking, king-making ReV 200, she's back on her proverbial grizzy, with just a couple weeks left until the Grandaddy of 'Em All. She scratches away at one last piece of paperwork before she nods to Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas, who's standing just inside the threshold, nodding.

The massive Head of Security opens the office door inward, peering out into the hallway.

Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas: Y'all unruly assholes are welcomed into the office of Lisa Tyler.

Strolling into the office is the beast known as Hessian, the sight of whom elicits a massive set of jeers from the crowd. He casts his steel eyes at Dam for a moment, pondering how to make the former bodyguard eat his words, but he decides against it, moving towards the back of the room and Tyler's desk. In tow is Chainz, who's wearing a perverse Cheshire grin as he passes Dam and plops down in one of Tyler's seats. Hessian opts to stand.

Lisa Tyler: Gentlemen.

Chainz: Evening, beautiful.

Lisa Tyler: (ignores Chainz) Let's not be coy about this. We all understand what's going on.

Hessian: You're making us jump through hoops because we're too hot to handle...even for you?

Lisa Tyler: Let's just say that this show could be a preview of the next few months for you, with me pulling strings to have each and every one of you mutinous employees "jumping through hoops," as you put it. Or it could be the only difficulty you have on the job for quite a long time, if you play ball.

Chainz: Pull our strings? Play ball? You flirting with me now?

Lisa Tyler: Mr. Sloan, I don't have time to verbalize just how foul I find you, but let's imagine that we've touched on that point already and move on.

Chainz: Some girls love to be degraded and some find my foulness to be quite attractive.

Hessian: Lemme guess. By "play ball" you mean follow all your rules, keep our hands to ourselves and be good little cub scouts? We're the best at what we do and you want to censor it all again?

Lisa Tyler: Quite the opposite, actually. I have no problem with the general chaos that you two both perpetually find yourselves causing. In this case, it's that you've chosen to make problems on the behalf of the Golden Ticket holder.

Hessian: Johnny?

Lisa Tyler: Yes. While his attempts to undermine my authority are beyond pathetic, they're a distraction that no one needs as we approach Colossus. All I need is for Chainz and Hessian to be lone wolves again. Blow up all the gas stations you like, beat up crippled children, I don't care. Just as long as it's not in collusion with that particular element of the roster.

Chainz: So I can either be a lone wolf and get punished by you every time I do something unPRIME like, or I can side with Johnny and Hess here and basically get the same treatment? Come on honey, why don't you make me a real offer?

His gaze is clearly not on her eyes.

Hessian: Might I raise the matter of incentive? Johnny and his ilk have deep pockets.

Lisa Tyler: I'll double all the incentive clauses in your contract. Title wins, awards, PPV appearances, it'll more than make up for whatever spare change is being tossed your way.

Hessian: And if I say yes?

Lisa Tyler: If you agree, then this week becomes an opportunity. A chance for both of you to prove that you're terrifying on an individual basis, that you don't need Johnny or anyone else to dominate this federation. Hessian, you'd be taking down one of my best, the longest-reigning Universal Champion of all-time. And Mister Sloan would prove himself by making the Dual Halo winner bleed. Think of the exposure.

Chainz: Do I look like I need any more exposure?

Lisa Tyler: On the other hand, I could always have the two of you wrestling handicap matches for the rest of the year.

Chainz: (cracks a wry grin) I never knew you were into the whole two-on-one scene? You be nice and play along and maybe you can join me and Tracy.

The Murder Show shoots a disgusted glance towards Chainz as he leans low over Lisa's desk, his barrel chest just inches from the wood, his head perched like a predator's on the same level as Tyler's.

Hessian: I'm not much for negative reinforcement, Tyler.

But the boss doesn't back down, not an inch. Her icy blue eyes gleam as she answers the Construction of Destruction.

Lisa Tyler: I'll be sure to send you a box of chocolates on Employee Appreciation Day this year, then.

With a snarl, Hessian turns on his heel, making for the door.

Hessian: (over his shoulder) I'll take it under advisement.

The man known to a very select few as Michael Sloan chuckles to himself as he watches Hessian leave, turning back towards the Vice President of Talent Relations.

Chainz: Funny bastard, isn't he?

Lisa Tyler: (deadpan) An absolute riot.

Chainz: I'll think about it too Lisa, but I've got plenty of offers on my plate. Of course, there is something you could do to make up my mind. I could drive you-

Lisa Tyler: Get out.

With the same devilish smirk he's been wearing this entire segment, Sloan rises from his chair, blowing a kiss to Tyler.

Chainz: I'll be seeing you around Lisa, even if you don't see me.

A disgusted sneer on her face, Lisa Tyler watches as Chainz slinks out the door, before shaking her head and returning to her paperwork.

"And I still say that you shouldn’t be here!"

The discussion – which is more polite than calling it an argument – is obviously in full flow as Jay Phoenix and Rick James appear backstage at the PRIME arena. Phoenix is looking at each door, as he passes, checking out the name attached to each but also, warily, checking to see if the door is closed before passing it.

Rick: … and I still say that you are wrong.

Jay: But what if Natas is waiting …

Rick: So what. Jay, listen to me, I love you but you are driving me nuts! I already told you that we can’t live our lives in fear of that guy.

Jay: But what he did to you …

Rick: Was rough, yeah. I am not going to lie to you and say that I enjoyed having my head caved in by repeated shots from a steel chair but, you know what, it didn’t kill me!

Jay: So, you saying it made you stronger then?

Rick: Nope, I am saying that it hurt like Hell but that is it. The stitches are out, there is barely a scar, even.

Jay: Just the memory.

Rick: Which seems to be worse for you than for me.

Jay: Yeah, well you weren’t the one finding the other in a pool of their own blood!

Rick: True … though I WAS the one lying in their OWN blood, remember.

Jay: ‘course I do. That’s the problem; I can’t forget.

Rick: Maybe you should try – we showed Natas that, together, we are strong. After what we did last week he won’t be stupid enough to try anything else, you know.

Jay: That’s the problem, Rick, I think that after we ganged up on him last week, after we beat him up and – to be honest – made him look stupid twice in one night I think that he WILL try something else.

Finally reaching the door with his name on it Phoenix stops, hand held out, and pauses before turning the handle. A bead of sweat, slight and almost imperceptible, forms on his brow and a slight shiver runs through his hand.

Rick: Here, let me.

Before he can be stopped Rick gently moves Phoenix’s hand to one side and opens the door, moving into the darkened room. The light from the hallway is enough to show a shadow of movement to the side of Rick, against the wall, and Phoenix screams a warning as he pushes Rick to one side and leaps past him. His body slams into the wall, his breath exploding out of his lungs, as the room is filled with light. Rick stands by the door, hand on the light switch, gingerly holding his side where Phoenix connected with him on the way past. His eyebrow rises as he sees the full-length coat that is tangled around Phoenix’s body.

Rick: Oh yeah, so now I am in danger from someone’s forgotten clothing?

Phoenix: I thought …

Rick: I know what you thought, Jay, but you have to stop. Seriously. You have other things to think about tonight, surely?

Phoenix: The match, you mean?

Rick: Yeah.

Phoenix: I have figure it out, you know. I am pretty sure that Tyler …

Rick: Which one?

Phoenix: Who knows … but anyway, one of them has made this match so that I can prove to them that I should get Natas.

Rick: You didn’t prove that last week??

Phoenix: You would have thought so but, hopefully, this will be the match – this will be the night – where I finally get what I have asked for. I am SURE that if I win that match, if I beat Noble and Douglas, that they will give me Natas, one-one-one …

A noise from outside the door takes Phoenix’s attention away from what he was saying and, as Rick gasps in shock, he finds himself pulled away from the opening as Phoenix – once more – puts himself in front of him. A grey haired man in janitorial clothing glances in, nodding a greeting at the two men, before continuing pushing a broom down the hall. With a sigh Phoenix relaxes, his whole body quivering as adrenaline floods his system, and leans back against the wall.

Phoenix: Phew – we’re ok, it wasn’t him.

Rick: No, Jay, we are not ok. This HAS to stop! You have to stop jumping at shadows and thinking that Natas is going to appear at any moment to do something …

Phoenix: He is, though, don’t you see?

Rick: Even if he does you can’t keep doing this – you can’t keep worrying about it, about me, so much that you lose track of everything else!

Phoenix: You are right.

Rick’s mouth opens and closes, his next words bitten of as he brain realises that the expected argument from Phoenix didn’t happen.

Rick: I am? I mean I am!

Phoenix: Yes, I can’t keep worrying about you and make sure that I win that match and get Natas. You have to leave.

Rick: WHAT?!

Phoenix: You have to go back to the hotel, Rick, and wait there. Lock the door and keep your phone on; I will ring when I am leaving and you will know it is me before you open the door.

Rick: Are you serious?!

Phoenix: Totally.

Rick: Do I get a say in this, at all?

Phoenix: No; I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner but you are right. Great idea, Rick. If you aren’t here I won’t worry about you – at least not as much. Hang on while I phone the front office and get them to get you a limo, or a cab, or something.

Phoenix pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and dials a number, turning his back to a stunned Rick as he begins to speak into the handset.

Nick: Next up we have what I think we could only call a fight for the alpha female of the tag team division.

Richard: Everyone loves a cat fight!

Nick: Well that may or may not be true, but this one could get ugly in a hurry. Earlier tonight Elise Ares, one of the newest members of PRIME, challenged Ruby to a match after her defeat at the hands of Wyatt Connors. One has to wonder how fast she'll be able to bounce back from that loss.

Richard: It was certainly a humiliating moment for all of us here at PRIME. This next one is going to be great though, I guarantee it! I don't have a clue who I'm going to root for.

Nick: Strangely enough, I don't either.

Vince Howard: The following match is scheduled for one fall with a 20 minute time limit.

"Remember The Name" by Fort Minor kicks in over the PA to the slight cheers from the crowd. While not a fan favorite by any means, her recent attempt to secure the Elite Championship for PRIME has endeared her to spattering of fans. Not to mention her opponent thus far has done a fantastic job of gathering tons of hostility from PRIME's crowd. Her eyes narrow as she walks down to the ring, ignoring the crowd. She was focused on redeeming herself two weeks after her title loss. This is a chance to put her back in the hunt for another opportunity in the future. One more loss, especially to someone like Elise Ares, and her Elite Title hopes may be done for.

You ready?! Lets go!
Yeah, for those of you that want to know what we're all about
It's like this y'all (c'mon!)

Vince Howard: Coming down the aisle from Baton Rouge, Louisiana! Weighing in at 121 pounds... RUUUUUUUUUUBY!!!

The reaction is cheering mixed with boos as she slides under the bottom rope and into the ring. Walking over to the ropes, she pulls on them... stretching out before the match with no members of Wicked Ways in sight. Again she decides to prove her worth alone with no one to help her at ringside. One quickly questions whether Elise Ares is willing to do the same thing, and if Ruby's sense of honor is going to be her downfall as she backs into her corner and leans over a bit, staring down towards the PRIME*tron waiting for her opponent.

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

Nick: With neither miscreant from Wicked Ways at ringside, this might be an uphill battle for Ruby. We've never seen Elise Ares compete in singles action here in PRIME since Jewel In The Crown. There was no Kazys Jankauskas then.

Richard: I would've brought them out. Why not? Any advantage you can have to win a match you take. In the end it's about winning, not about pride.

The sound of "Remember the Name" quickly fades into the mixed reaction from the crowd. Flashbulbs continue to pop around the arena as they await the entrance of Elise Ares. Soon, their wishes are granted.

All I wanna do is... BANG! BANG! BANG!

Arena fades to a blue-violet color base with gold lighting highlights.

So Swaggeriffic
S-So Swaggeriffic
So Swaggerific
S-So Swaggerific
How can you call it a lifestyle, when you don't live your life in style?
How can you call it a lifestyle, when you don't live your life in style?

As the pounding bass beat of "Swaggerific" by Verbz begins to play over the arena, it's greeted by a choir of jeers. Blue-violet and gold lights move around to the beat as Elise Ares explodes through the curtain making her way out into the arena. The usual cocky smile and arrogant trot on her step is gone as she pauses in the entrance under the PRIME*tron. Holding a microphone she looks around at the booing masses in disbelief.

Vince Howard: And her opponent from Miam...

Elise Ares: Cut the music!

The crowd boos louder as the arena lights return to normal and Ruby stands, aggravated, in the ring as her Cuban-Asian nemesis stands with a microphone up to her lips, glaring around at various paying fans around the arena.

Nick: Hasn't she talked enough?! Now what?!

Richard: The girl has something on her mind.

Nick: She always has something on her mind...

Elise Ares: Excuse me, please... please. I know you're excited to see me. I'm excited too, but I have something to say. You see unlike many of you, when I talk it's important! So you should all shut your mouths and pay attention while the object of your affection has the microphone. Understood?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Elise Ares: I know, match of the night right? You get to see The Swaggeriffic One go one-on-one with... whatsherface! I know it's great. But listen you see, we're in Hartford tonight...

A huge pop from the crowd erupts, as the passionate fans of Hartford embrace the cheap pop. Even from Elise.

Elise Ares: Yes, yes I've actually heard of this city before. Go me! Right? This place has seen some crazy things! I mean in this very building the Hartford Whalers used to play NHL games. The banners are still on the ceiling and everything! Look up there!

HERE WE GO WHALERS HERE WE GO! CLAPCLAP!!
HERE WE GO WHALERS HERE WE GO! CLAP CLAP!!

Elise Ares: Wow, that's insane. It's been twelve years since you guys lost your hockey team and you still haven't managed to get over it? That really is special Hartford. You see, the reason the Whalers left is because they got sick and tired of busting their ass to play in front of the richest fans in this country who wouldn't shell out the money to come and attend their games. You guys sat at home on your loaded bank accounts and watched your precious Whalers spiral into bankruptcy to the point where they packed up and got the hell out of this hell hole.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Elise Ares: And just like how the Whalers were too good to win a Stanley Cup for the biggest fan base of conceited assholes the National Hockey League has ever seen... I'm too good to perform in front you too. As a matter of fact, I'm going to sit out this match in protest of the way that you treated your hockey franchise. You guys make me sick.

Nick: Oh give me a break! She'd do anything from having to face Ruby one-on-one tonight wouldn't she?!

Richard: You can't say she isn't strong in her convictions.

Nick: She really knows how to garner the support of a crowd doesn't she though?

Elise Ares: But while my disgust for standing here under these banners in front of all of you is very... VERY large, it's not nearly as big as my desire to watch Ruby there get torn limb from limb like a piñata on Cinco De Mayo. Therefore, I'm going to announce a replacement.

In the ring Vince Howard simply shakes his head as the crowd continues to boo.

Elise Ares: Ladies and Gentlemen introducing Ruby's opponent, your friend and mine... REVOLUTION 200 BATTLE ROYAL WINNER KAZYS JANKAUSKAS!

"Pyhä Maa" by Teräsbetoni plays over the arena to another chorus of hatred emitting from the crowd. Pushing the curtain aside, The Iron Wolf entered the arena with a hint of a smirk on his face. Behind that smirk was violent intentions as Ruby looked down at the much... much bigger opponent on his way down to face her.

Nick: Ruby is in no way, shape, or form ready or prepared to take on a monster like Kazys Jankauskas. The very little preparation, probably entirely mental, that Ruby got to do was against the lightning quick Elise Ares.

Richard: I think that's the point, Nick. Guerilla Warfare!

Nick: This isn't fair at all!

Richard: I'm surprised Wicked Ways didn't think to do it first!

Nick: That is a bit surprising...

Elise Ares: Hailing from some place in Eastern Europe I probably couldn't find on a map but is now residing in MIAMI, FLORDIA! Weighing in at 280-ish pounds... my tag team partner, personal bodyguard, and the instigator of your nightmares... KAZYS JANKAUSKAS!!!!!

Kazys shoots Elise an annoyed look but quickly focuses back on Ruby in the ring. Ruby is jittery, waiting to get a piece of the Iron Wolf as he walks up the steps and stops on the apron... staring down his much smaller opponent. His eyes narrowed with bad intentions as she then steps into the ring through the ropes. Cracking his neck, he never takes those eyes off of Ruby.

Nick: He's almost three of her!

Richard: At least it's not Hessian.

Nick: Well... yeah. Hessian didn't win the Revolution 200 Battle Royal! We're just starting to get a glimpse of the kind of damage this guy can do! We don't even know what he's capable of one-on-one, especially against a girl Ruby's size!

Richard: Always a good combination. This should at least make for exciting television!

Elise Ares: Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go back to my locker room and watch the DVD set of the Carolina Hurricanes road to the 05-06 Stanley Cup Championship while wearing my red and black Ron Francis jersey while you all sit around and cry about what could have been. So sad, so tragic... have fun kiddies!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

"Pyhä Maa" fades away as the bell tolls to begin the match.

DING! DING! DING!

Ruby slowly rotates her focus to the smiling Tsunami-size mammoth at the opposite aide of the ring. Kazys simply folds his hands together, smiling at the opportunity to smash the Muse into smithereens. Seconds pass and the only movement is the sound of a locomotive train heading toward Ruby as she turns to notice her attacker.

THUD

Richard: What an animal!

Nick: Kazys nails a surprise clothesline on the Muse to start us off. I don’t like how this is looking for the manager of our Tag Team Champions.

He lifts her up, above his head, and spins around a few times before dropping her on her back with a bodyslam. He follows up quickly with an elbow drop the brings in some boos followed by some cheers in the crowd nearby.

Nick: This is going to be a long one folks. It looks like Kazys is going to play with this victim a little bite as he picks her up off the mat.

Richard: You don’t even know!

Nick: …know what?

Richard: How…umm, fast this match will be! Ha!

The big man bends Ruby over and puts her head underneath arm. He drops her like the nastiest of habits with a DDT. She rolls around, holding her head, and the big man rolls over for a pin.

ONE!!

TWO!!

TH-

Nick: Quick kickout by the woman in black.

Richard: Quick? Slow count! End this, Kaz!!

The beast picks her up again, and this time, spins her around for a sitout shoulder driver. The girl falls down on her back lifelessly before the big man begins to stroll around the ring, catching his breath and teasing the crowd a little.

BOOOOOO

Richard: Let’s get some love here, people. This guy is a foreign gem!

Nick: Don’t forget Ruby just wrestled Wyatt Connors for the Elite Strap, Dicky Poo.

Richard: And lost, sap. And lost.

Kazys tosses Ruby into the ropes and then she comes right back for a clothesline, but ducks it. She stands upright then sends clobbering blow into Kazys’ right cheek.

Richard: You see my man in there? Takin’ it like a pimp knows how. Respek.

Nick: I agree, Richard, he did take Ruby’s shot like a cool breeze right there. He even seems to be…laughing.

The big man grabs her by the hair and then mouths some very inappropriate words to her before tossing her into the turnbuckle, face first. Ruby staggers backward and Kazys catches her, lifts her up onto his shoulder, and then drops her down for back body drop.

Richard: That’s it! Cover.

Nick: She never had a chance.

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRE-

Richard: Oh-Em-Jee. What?

Nick: Last second kick out and now Kazys has Ruby to her feet, one more time.

Richard: Boooooriiiiing.

She tumbles backward, rolling to her back. Her hair falls out of the ponytail and she looks through the wild strands to Kaz, who boasts to the crowd. Grinding her teeth, Ruby gets a full head of steam and leaps two feet before the bigger Wolf notices what’s happening.

Richard: Whatthe!? NO!

Nick: Big move by Ruby! She lands a Tornado DDT on Jankauskas! Great use of her aerial advantage.

Richard: It’s no use, Nick. Watch this.

Kaz charges her after rushing to regain his footing, grabbing her and spinning her toward the ropes. She returns the spin and then leaps off the ground, pulling herself into Kaz, and drives her shoulder into his chest.

Richard: Erroneous! That’s erroneous.

Nick: Meaning…?

Richard: … Don’t look at me, Mr. Ivy League.

Sticking with it, Ruby mounts her opponent and begins reigning down lefts and rights. Finally, with one final and much more emotional right haymaker, the Muse stands up, looks around, and then performs a marvelous standing Moonsault onto Kaz for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-

Richard: Thank God! I thought we were about to watch another Title IX incident happen right here in PRIME!

Nick: Ruby was close. No matter which half of Ares’ Army she faces, Ruby is here to win.

Richard: She was Jankauskas’ plaything earlier.

A slight argument between the ref and Ruby gives Kaz enough time to get to his feet. He shakes it loose, justifying himself to the fans with a stretch and yawn, and then rushes the Muse with a full head of steam – hot steam, mind you.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Nick: Snap Sidekick by Ruby! Kazys goes down again!

Richard: Strip search her! It’s obvious what’s happening here!

Nick: What?

Ruby: Get up, bitch!

SMACK

Ruby helps Kaz to his feet by pulling his hair and then rattles his chest with a hard knife-edge chop.

SMACK

And another connects, popping more capillaries on the big man’s chest to make it even redder.

BOOOOOO!!!!!!

Richard: Here it comes!

Kazys grabs Ruby by the wrist, wrenching her arm underneath and bringing about a sense of extreme violence over the crowd. He wrenches the arm more into her side as she winces in pain. He does it one more time and she buckles one knee, dropping down. Finally, the big man sends a boot into her chest.

Nick: That is despicable.

Richard: What? Being amazingly strong and being able to beat up women? In my old gang, we give that mad props, yo.

Nick: The Happy Hands Club isn’t a gang, Richard.

Ruby leaps to her feet right when Kazys comes too close, sweeping her legs around and knocking him to his back. She mounts him and does the last thing he wants her to do.

Nick: Ruby gearing up for a series of closed fists.

ONE

Richard: These broads, always thinking they can just take control. Hit her back, Kaz! Hit her right in the baby-maker.

TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE

Ruby lets her sharp knuckles fly into Kazys’ face. She keeps her mount secure, legs wrapping around his thick legs, and plays the role of UPS delivery lady. What she’s dropping off this time? A beaten, broken face of one Lithuanian monster who the china doll sends down to fight her fights.

Nick: This is getting ugly!

SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE

Richard: Damn feminists!

Nick: What? Where?

Ruby stops, letting the thunderous counting screech to a halt. She takes her eyes off Kaz long enough to make a gesture to the backstage area, most importantly in Elise's general direction, then to Kazys. A kind of gesture that, in some circles, would be improper and disrespectful. She slowly raises one of the clubs she is using on Kazys, raises it in a fist, and sloooowly lifts her middle finger.

OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Richard: Oh no she ditn’t!

Ruby’s eyes burst open, like burning doors in a dark apartment building. They glow with rage. Ruby, who has since locked the finger in that position, simply smiles on at the fans through the ropes. Her eyes narrow just before landing-

TEN!!!

Nick: Ruby is sending a message tonight, Richard! It’s almost like she wanted to take on Kazys.

Richard: Beginner’s luck, Nick.

Jumping off of Kaz, Ruby then backs away glaring at the Rev200 Battle Royal winner as he leans dazed in the corner. With a bit of a wobble in his step he begins walking out of the corner, leading Ruby to plan her next move. The crowd begins to stir as Ruby's eyes narrow, hoping that maybe one more strike could end the match. Kazys is so large that she is unable to use her finisher, but she had something else in mind. Unfortunately at this point it becomes obvious to Ruby that the crowd wasn't stirring because of the end of the match...

CRACK!

Or... maybe they were.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick: Oh my Jesus! Elise Ares just ran out here with a chair and just LEVELED Ruby from behind! Did you see that shot?

Richard: Not only did I see it, I FELT it! That was some torque she got on that steel chair.

Nick: Ruby did win the match! But not quite how she wanted to, this one has been throw out by DQ!

Richard: But Elise is just getting started.

Ruby lies motionless on the mat as Elise Ares looks at the dented steel chair in her hand. Kazys Jankauskas goes back to rest in the corner again, trying to get a grasp on where he is and what is going on. Raising the steel weapon into the air, Ares slams it back down on the skull of Ruby once more. Again. Then Again! The crowd doesn't even like Ruby but are sickened by her brutal assault from behind and begin to boo each shot louder and louder. The Havana Harlot throws the steel chair down to the mat before rolling Ruby onto her back with her foot. She then places her boot on Ruby's chest.

Elise Ares: QUE TAL ESO?!

She steps over Ruby using her chest like a placemat before.

Nick: Here come Wicked Ways!

Richard: Elise doesn't even see them coming!

Scraps is the first one to hit the ring, blindsiding Elise Ares with a flying shoulder block to her side knocking her down to the canvas. As Rippa comes into the ring, Kazys storms out of the corner to intercept them. It isn't long before the big man from Sweden and the big man from Lithuania begin a slugfest in the middle of the ring. One huge haymaker followed by another. On the other side of the ring Elise Ares has managed to make it to the outside getting away from Scraps, but he doesn't give up that easily.

Scraps slides under the bottom rope to chase after Ares. Catching up to her, he grabs her by the back of her pants throws her head first into the barricade surrounding the ring. As she's down he begins to pummel her with stomps. Meanwhile inside Rippa has got the upper hand on the exhausted Iron Wolf. Punching him into the corner, The Swedish Shark begins ramming his shoulder repeatedly into the ribcage of Kaz. On the outside Elise Ares has managed to pull Scraps head first down into the top of the barricade. As he's dazed she manages to get past him and slide into the ring.

Nick: We're going to need some security or some type of control out here!

Richard: Let them fight! This might be the best brawl of the night! Who'd want to miss that?

Rippa doesn't notice Elise Ares sneak into the ring behind him, she gets into position before landing a well placed punt right between his legs. The shot sends him crippling to the ground in agony, leaving Kazys open to get an upper hand. As soon as she turns around however, Scraps is back in the ring and hits her with a great crossbody. Landing punches to her skull, Scraps gains control before he's lifted into the air by the back of his neck by Kazys Jankauskas.

Nick: He's in trouble now!

Richard: I don't know who to root for!

A beat kicks in...

WE HAVE A PROBLEM!

The crowd rises to their feet in cheers.

WE HAVE A PROBLEM!

Richard: Now I know who I'm not rooting for!

Nick: The crowd has certainly made their choice!

The team of Marquis Peeples and Tyrell Dawkins, also known as The Redeemed, rush down to the ring taking this opportunity to get a taste of the action themselves. Kazys drops Scraps to the ground as the team slides under the bottom rope. Immediately they target the Iron Wolf and his efforts to dodge their attacks fail immediately as they nail a double dropkick sending him tumbling backwards and over the top rope. The fans in Hartford are going nuts as Elise Ares then gets up next and her eyes grow wide as she looks at who is now in the ring.

Richard: RUN!

Nick: This isn't going to end well for Elise!

Elise Ares tries to call timeout, which for whatever reason she suddenly feels is legal in wrestling, but as expected it's useless. The Redeemed pick her up together over their heads into the air, before throwing her over the top rope on top of Kazys outside of the ring who was just getting back up to his feet. Sending them both down with a thud. Scraps attacks Peeples from behind immediately afterwards but it isn't long before Dawkins stops him with a huge right hand. Behind them Rippa begins to cut his loses, pulling Ruby out of the line of fire and escaping out of the ring with her.

Richard: Scraps is left to fend for himself!

Nick: I think Veljumin did the right thing getting Ruby out of harms way there! She was out cold.

Richard: You can't say the same thing for Scraps!

Scraps is thrown into the corner by Tyrell Dawkins as Marquis gets back in control of himself. Both members of The Redeemed meet him in the corner. They begin hitting him with vicious chops as the crowd eggs them on.

Richard: This isn't going to be good...

Dawkins climbs up to the second rope as Marq puts Scraps into position.

Nick: THE REDEEMING QUALITY!

Scraps hits the mat with authority and sluggish rolls out of the ring and falls to the ground. The sound of "Houston We Have A Problem" begins again over the arena as The Redeemed celebrate in the ring, hyping up the crowd who have at least on this night seen The Redeemed come out looking like one of the stronger tag teams PRIME has to offer. They were winners on this night, and have appeared to prove themselves as legitimate threats to Wicked Ways titles.

Nick: And with a cleared ring, The Redeemed find themselves alone in a company that once included the top two from the Revolution 200 Battle Royal and the PRIME Tag Team Champions! They certainly appear to have thrown their name into the hat of people who deserve their shot at the championships here.

Richard: The other two were exhausted!

Nick: Wicked Ways was just as fresh, as was Elise Ares.

Richard: Elise wasn't willing to compete! Who could concentrate in front of these Hartford Whiners?

Nick: Classy.

The scene fades into the next as The Redeemed stand on the turnbuckles, looking at Wicked Ways retreating up the ramp battered and The Wolves Of Slaughter looking up at them from the outside of the ring in disbelief. It's appeared at least, the fans have made their choice about who the next big threat for the Tag Team Championships are. They're names are The Redeemed.

Hessian and Chainz stalk down the corridor toward who knows where, having recently left the office of Lisa Tyler after her near-indecent proposal. The Murder Show grumbles and growls to himself, while Chainz looks as if he’s daydreaming of a scantily clad Lisa Tyler dancing seductively in a blow-up pool full of ReddiWip. Two very different men with the same penchant for destruction and mayhem.

Just what the doctor ordered.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. May I have a moment of your time?"

The smooth, slimy, unmistakable voice of Tyler Nelson calls out to them from inside a room they had just passed. Hess and Chainz stop as Nelson appears in the doorway of some random, empty multi-purpose room.

He probably calls it his office.

The two men stare down the smug King of Greed as he fastens a few buttons on his suit coat. People who didn’t know better would think that his grey pinstriped suit looks pretty nice, but closer inspection finds that the pinstripes are crooked. Anyway…

Tyler: Word has it that you just had a little sit-down with our overwhelmed, underperforming Vice President of Talent Relations.

The Construction of Destruction and the man also known as Michael Sloan trade a brief glance, both trying to figure out how Nelson knows and what exactly he wants.

Hessian: Word has it right. Her knickers are in a twist over this situation with Johnny and she's worried Chainz and Hessian might be negatively influenced by his...behaviour.

Chainz: I think she was just trying to tease me. (lightly backhands Hessian on the shoulder) Did you see the way she was eye fuc-

A revolted King of Greed quickly interrupts, his face contorting into a disgusted frown.

Tyler: That’s quite enough! (shakes head to try and clear the image from his mind) I could have done without that particular visual, Chainz.

Chainz snickers and shrugs as The Murder Show takes a pull on his beard as he looks down at the smarmy Nelson.

Hessian: So what exactly are you after, Nelson? Last I heard you weren't one for idle chit-chat.

Tyler: Very astute of you, Hessian. See, I would like for the two of you to continue on your present course of action, aiding the vagrant and this GCW insurrection. As a matter of fact, I would like to see more GCW fueled discord and chaos caused by the two of you. Turn this place upside down for all I care.

Chainz: You know it's funny how all of a sudden everybody needs something from us. Where were these offers earlier? Now that Lisa Tyler and you need something you come running to us like lost little children. Why should we help either of you? At least I can have some fun with Lisa Tyler's ass, but yours is something I don't want to see.

Nelson smirks, in a used car salesman kind of way.

Tyler: You certainly are a blunt instrument, Chainz. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. What the both of you need to realize is that Lisa Tyler is a lame duck. I’m going to run her out of here eventually, so why not speed up the process a bit. The more she has on her plate, the more she struggles and fights, the quicker she’ll sink in the quicksand. With you two, and the vagrant, of course, drawing some of her fire away from me it’ll make things just that much easier to bring about the inevitable.

Hessian: And when the dust settles, you think you’ll be left in charge?

Tyler: The Board will have no choice but to put me in charge. My recent body of work speaks for itself, and believe me, they know it. (points at Hessian) And you know that I take care of people who help me out.

The last set of words from Nelson seemingly strike a chord with The Murder Show, his future Elite Title shot quickly coming to the forefront of his mind. He takes a long, pensive pull from his beard.

Hessian: And after you get your crown, what becomes of the GCW issue? I can't imagine you condoning it if it affects your product.

Tyler: Depends on potential benefits for me. That’s a road to cross at a future date. For right now, I want turmoil.

Chainz: Turmoil we can do, but let me just warn you Nelson. Killean is nothing compared to me and what I can do. You screw me and there won't be a place on this planet that you can crawl into to hide from me. Trust me, I'm the last person you want on your trail.

Nelson gulps, smiling nervously. He like everyone else knows what Chainz is capable of and truly doesn't want to get on his bad side. Chainz looks over at Hessian.

Chainz: Looks like we got a few things to think about, eh big guy?

Hessian: (slowly nodding his head) Indubitably...

Nick: Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re just moments away from our second contest of the evening, and this one is sure to be a competitive battle as the highly accomplished veterans Troy Douglas and Jay Phoenix square off against, not only each other, but the talented young superstar…

Richard: And #1 Contender to the Intense Championship…

Nick: David Noble. It’s triple threat action.

Richard: You make it sound dirty.

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a twenty minute time-limit, and is a triple threat match-up. Introducing first.

The guitar riffs that signal the start of Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name" blast throughout the arena, and are quickly accompanied by a brass section that reaches a crescendo after ten seconds. Flashing on the PRIME*View are four words in succession.


END.


OF.


THE.


ROAD.


Then...


BOOM!


BOOOOOM!


BOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!


Three rapid-fire cannon blasts, each one louder than the last, and the song immediately cuts to the start of the chorus as Cornell's voice kicks in.


Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you, and I will replace you.


Vince Howard: He hails from Greensboro, North Carolina and weighs in at 260 pounds...


You can't deny the prize; it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you, are you willing to die


Vince Howard: He is ... TRROOOOOYY DOOOUGGGLAAAASSSS!!!


The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name.


Red and white lights flash throughout the building as the song works through its second verse and Troy Douglas makes his way down to the ring, slapping hands with some of the crowd. Behind him on the PRIME*View, a montage of his greatest highlights play, interrupted every few seconds by END. OF. THE. ROAD.


As the song hits the chorus one more time, he slides into the ring, and salutes the crowd in all four corners. As the chorus ends, the music fades and the lights return to normal.

Vince Howard: And the opponent…

Flashing lights fill the arena as the house lights dim. Then a few notes are heard over the sound system until ‘Let It Rock’ by Kevin Rudolf is heard in the arena. The fans rise to their feet as on the PRIME*Tron it reads on thing.

David. Noble


I see your dirty face
Hide behind your collar
What is done in vain
Truth is hard to swallow


Then, from the back area emerges David Noble, who gets a small pop from the crowd. While many hadn't seen him before, there were some who were familiar with him for his past work in a few other places. Yet, he was as fresh as they came and his face was filled with energy as he clapped his hands as the fans responded in kind. He stands at the top of the ramp, wearing a pair of black and white tights with his name printed upon it.


So you pray to God
To justify the way you live a lie, live a lie, live a lie
And you take your time
And you do your crime
Well you made your bed
I'm in mine


As the chorus hits the arena, Noble hops up and down a few times before he races down the ramp, fireworks following alongside him all the way down the ramp until he hits the ring.


Because when I arrive
I bring the fire
Make you come alive
I can take you higher
What is this, forgot?
I must now remind you
Let It Rock


Noble then runs up the steps and alongside the ring apron before he runs up the nearby turnbuckles and hops onto the top turnbuckle as he looks out at the crowd! Some are still cheering him on while most of the fans are waiting to see if he's worth anything yet. He then hops off the top turnbuckle and lands in the middle of the ring as the four corners light up with fireworks going off!


Let It Rock
Let It Rock


Vince Howard: Weighing in at 225 pounds and standing at 6 feet and 2 inches, he hails from Buffalo, New York... DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVID! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBLE!


The song then fades out as Noble waits for his opponent.

Vince Howard: And their opponent… from Flagstaff, Arizona, weighing in at 215lbs, standing 5'11", this is the HOTTEST star in wrestling … JAY PHOENIX!!


A haunting guitar melody plays over the PA system as on the VideoTron flames start to appear, curling up to completely cover the blackness of the screen.


A drumbeat fills that air as words, sung in a powerful, pure voice can be heard mingling with the melody as a bass driven counter melody joins with an electric guitar to complete the music.


"Day by day, watching you disappear
Wishing that you were still here beside me
On my own, swimming against the tide
There's nobody on my side but your memory"


The flames on the VideoTron die down, leaving the screen completely black again … until suddenly with an explosion of light and noise the flames reappear, this time in the easily distinguishable form of a Phoenix that fills the whole screen.


"Then I'll rise, right before your eyes
On wings that fill the sky
Like a Phoenix rising
Like a Phoenix rising"


The crowd are on their feet, cheering and screaming as the realisation of just who it is hits them.


"Wings of fire, tearing into the night
Screaming into the light of another day
Carry me out of the hurricane
Into the smoke and flame and we'll fly away"


On either side of the ramp way two bursts of flame leap out, sending two fan shaped flares of fire across the entrance, through which a silhouetted figure walks as on the screen, superimposed on the mystical flame bird symbol, two words appear … JAY PHOENIX.


"And I'll rise, right before their eyes
On wings that fill the sky
Like a Phoenix rising
Like a Phoenix rising

Higher, higher hear the thunder roar from above
Fire, fire, fire make me whole"


Phoenix stands on the ramp way, the flame still bright behind him, as the music still plays. He is dressed in a black leather look body suit, flame motifs running up the side of both legs, meeting at the thigh where they join together to form almost a belt of fire. The arms are cut off at the shoulders exposing muscular biceps, the left one covered with a glistening tattoo of a stylised Phoenix in flight surrounding by bands of gold and red flames. Black and red elbow pads are met by taping that covers his forearms and wrists. A silver necklace hangs around his neck, falling down to his chest, and when the light catches it at the right angle it can be seen to be a disc containing thin interlocking strands, a bright purple amethyst at it's centre … a dreamcatcher.


"And I'll rise, right before their eyes
On wings that fill the sky
Like a Phoenix rising
Like a Phoenix rising

Wings of fire, tearing into the night
And we'll fly away ... "


A smile plays across Phoenix's face as he pans his attention around the arena before slowly walking down towards the ring. When he gets to the ring, Phoenix, with a quick move, jumps to the ring apron and climbs the turnbuckle, holding an arm up to the fans, who resume their cheering in response, before vaulting over the ropes to land in the centre of the ring.

Vince Howard exits the ring as the three superstars stare each other down.

Nick: We’ve got some successful and athletic competitors here tonight and you know each of these men would like to pick up a huge victory just three weeks out from CVI.

Richard: With only one other stop on the road to Colossus, tonight is critical. This is the chance to put that little thing called momentum squarely in your corner.

Elvis Nixon calls for the bell, and just like that, we’re underway.

‘Ding Ding Ding’

The three men slowly circle the ring, sizing up the situation. Phoenix and Douglas suddenly explode forward, charging into one another. The two superstars immediately begin to exchange punches while Noble sits back and surveys the situation, thinking things through before jumping in head-first.

Troy Douglas gains the advantage, locking Phoenix in a clench and delivering some perfectly executed knee strikes. After several knees, Douglas releases his grip and fires off a massive European uppercut, nearly breaking the jaw of Phoenix. Firmly in control, Megatron delivers a snap suplex, driving Jay into the mat. Holding his grip, Douglas rolls over and lifts Phoenix with him, looking to land a second suplex. As he hoists Phoenix vertical, David Noble interjects himself into the situation with a beautiful dropkick, one foot connecting with Troy’s chest, the other with his chin.

The force from the dropkick sends Douglas falling backwards, helping him to execute the second suplex, spilling Phoenix to the canvas.

Nick: Two for one!

Richard: Heads up move by Noble

A standing moonsault to Douglas and Noble immediately hooks the leg as the crowd pops for the impressive athletic maneuver. Elvis Nixon quickly moves into place and makes the count.

ONE…



TWO…



T…

Nick: Kickout by Douglas!

Noble isn’t deterred. Quickly jumping to his feet, he steps over towards where Phoenix lays on the mat and again leaps into the air, landing another standing moonsault. And again, Noble makes the pin, looking to score a quick victory.

ONE…




TWO…



TH…

YYYYYEEEEAAAAHHHH!

The crowd pops as Phoenix gets his shoulder up at the count of two. Noble rolls to his feet and drags the Eternal Flame with him. An elbow staggers Phoenix. A second does so further. On the third time, Noble spins on his heels, looking to add extra momentum behind the shot, but as he turns on his heels, Troy Douglas explodes forward with a colossal clothesline that nearly knocks Noble out of his boots.

Nick: Noble was looking for a spinning elbow, but when he spun around, he found a tree trunk of an arm waiting to knock his teeth out!

Douglas peels Noble off the mat and locks in a half nelson, then goes up and over, delivering a suplex from the hold. Megatron begins to stomp away on Noble, smashing his boot into his opponent’s torso over and over. After a half dozen stomps, Douglas leans over to pull Noble up. As he rises up, tucking Noble under his left arm, looking for a DDT, Phoenix rushes into the scene. Coming up on Douglas’s right side, he wraps an arm around Megatron’s neck and steps over his ankle. Flinging backward with all his weight, Phoenix plants Douglas with a Russian leg sweep. When Douglas crashes down, he brings Noble with him, spiking the young superstars skull into the mat with a DDT.

Nick: What a combination!

Richard: I don’t know if that was planned or sheer luck, but Jay Phoenix just went from a corpse in the ring to the only guy standing in one simple move!

The Eternal Flame wastes no time, picking Noble up and whipping him into the ropes. As Noble hits the ropes, he grabs the top cable to try and halt his momentum. But Phoenix takes two fast steps forward and leaps into the air, driving his knee into his opponent’s face. The force of the blow sends Noble toppling over the ropes, spilling to the mats outside.

With the ring emptied of one competitor, Phoenix turns his attention to Megatron. A few well placed elbows return the affective MMA knee strikes from earlier in the match. An irish whips sends Douglas smashing into the corner, and Phoenix moves in with a well-placed dropsault, landing on his feet. When Douglas stumbles out of the corner, Phoenix rolls him up with a lightning fast small package.

ONE…




TWO…



TH….

Nick: Kickout by Douglas! This match is moving at a helluva rate.

Richard: These clowns are gonna burn themselves out quick if they’re not careful.

Nick: I think Phoenix is wanting to try and close this thing out while Noble is hurting outside the ring.

A snap kick to the gut doubles over Douglas and the Eternal Flame immediately hooks under both arms and delivers a double-arm DDT. Douglas crumples to the mat. On the apron, David Noble has gotten to his feet and is about to re-enter the match. From the corner of his eye, Phoenix sees it and rushes forward, driving his forearm into Noble’s teeth and sending the superstar crashing right back to the mats.

Douglas gets to his feet and Phoenix goes back to work. He looks to connect with a good ol’ fashioned boot to the gut, but Megatron catches the foot. Without hesitating, Phoenix leaps into the air and spins around, nailing the back of Douglas’s head with his free foot.

Nick: Enziguri!

Troy stumbles forward, his arms and head draping over the middle rope. The crowd begins to roar as they since what’s forthcoming. Phoenix hits the far set of ropes and comes barreling back. Jumping through the middle and top ropes, he grabs the cables and swings his legs around, crushing them into the skull of Troy Douglas.

Nick: Burn Out! And now Phoenix is measuring him up.

The Eternal Flame grabs hold of the top rope and leaps into the air, springboarding off he lands in seated position across Douglas’s shoulders, looking for the hurricanrana. But the much larger and stronger Megatron catches Phoenix, not allowing the superstar to pull him over. With Phoenix seated across the top of his shoulders, Douglas runs forward and tosses The Eternal Flame clear over the top rope.

Nick: Oh my god…

Richard: Head’s up, kid!

Noble doesn’t see it in time, though. Still shaking the grogginess from his head. He turns just in time to see a flying human coming his way. Phoenix crashes into Noble, and both men land in crumpled heaps on the ringside mats.

Nick: I don’t believe that! Douglas just caught Phoenix and powerbombed him outta the ring and into David Noble!

Megatron doesn’t give either man a chance to recover. He exits the ring and picks up Phoenix, flinging him overhead with a release german suplex. Phoenix lands hard on the mats and rolls into the ring steps. Douglas follows in pursuit, slamming the Eternal Flame’s face into the steel steps. Once, twice, then a third time.

Then, picking Phoenix up in a military press, he walks over to the barricade and drops Jay face-first across the top railing.

Richard: Brutal offense right there.

When Douglas turns around to head back towards Noble, he sees he’s in for some trouble. Noble, having already recovered, runs forward, jumping onto, then off of, the ringside steps, he spins through the air and lands a picture perfect wheel kick.

With Douglas down, Noble turns his attention to Phoenix. Picking The Eternal Flame up, Noble leaps high in the air, wrapping his legs around Phoenix’s head, he arches back and lands the hurricanrana Phoenix wasn’t able to. The moves sends Jay somersaulting over the barricade and spilling into the fans at ringside. Security immediately does its job, circling the PRIME superstar, preventing him from being mobbed.

When Phoenix climbs to his feet, he turns and sees that Noble is perched atop the barricade. The Intense Title #1 contender flies through the air, landing a cross body block that takes out Phoenix and a half-dozen folding chairs in the stands.

YYYYEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Nick: David Noble is bringing the offense up close and personal for the fans!

Hopping back over the barricade, Noble makes his way over towards Douglas and rolls him back under the bottom rope. In the ring, a snap mare followed by a kick to the spine leaves Megatron wincing in pain. Grabbing two fistfuls of hair, Noble lifts Douglas and delivers an old school scoop slam on his larger opponent. Taking to the top rope, Noble takes to the air, crashing down with a huge leg drop. After impact, Noble goes for the pin, hooking a leg. Nixon does his job.

ONE…



TWO…


Nick: Phoenix!

Whether or not Noble would have picked up the three count… we’ll never know. Jay Phoenix comes rushing into the ring, breaking up the pin with a baseball slide. Noble doesn’t take well to the interjection. Grabbing Phoenix, he uses the rare case of size advantage to throw the Eternal Flame overhead with belly to belly suplex.

Jumping back to his feet, he returns his attention to Douglas. Dragging the superstar up by the arm, Noble attempts to send Douglas into the ropes, but Megatron reverses momentum, pulling Noble right back towards him.

Wrapping around Noble’s torso, Douglas lifts and plants his opponent with a spinebuster that nearly busts a hole in the canvas.

Richard: Short-arm spinebuster by the former Intense Champion!

Douglas hooks a leg, looking to score the pinfall.

ONE…




TWO….




THR….

Nick: Not this time! Noble was able to get the shoulder up.

Douglas steps over to Phoenix and lifts the Eternal Flame. Picking him up in powerbomb position, he staggers over towards where Noble lays on the canvas.

Nick: he’s going to powerbomb Phoenix onto Noble for the second time tonight.

Not so fast. Phoenix bursts to life with a flurry of punches to Megatron’s head, causing him to release the Eternal Flame. A boot to the shin drops Douglas to one knee and Phoenix pushes off his larger opponents thigh, leaping up and connecting with a close-quarters shining wizard.

Phoenix stars to climb the ropes, back to the ring, likely looking for a moonsault. But Noble ruins the plans. Sliding under Phoenix, he steps away from the corner with Phoenix seated atop his shoulders. Falling backward, Noble delivers an electric chair drop, sending Jay crashing down across Douglas.

Nick: Payback!

Noble pushes Phoenix off of Troy and hooks Douglas leg.

ONE…



TWO…



THREE…

Richard: Douglas got the shoulder up!

Noble isn’t discouraged. He drags Douglas up and fires off several punches that work Megatron back towards the ropes. A haymaker is ducked and Douglas delivers a big boot to the gut, then scoops Noble up and holds him across his shoulder.

Nick: Could be a running powerslam…

Douglas sprints across the ring, but at the last second, Noble slides down his back and delivers a simple shove. Coupled with Douglas’s momentum, Megatron is sent flying over the top rope. As soon as Noble turns around, he’s met with a roundhouse kick to the jaw that lays him out.

Nick: Phoenix outta nowhere!

Jay drops to his knees, still clearly in pain, but back in the battle.
Grabbing Phoenix by the arm, Douglas propels him into the ropes then, as he sees that Phoenix has managed to grab a desperate hold of them to stop himself rebounding back, Douglas decides not to wait and runs directly at the smaller man, arm outstretched for a clothesline that will send him out of the ring.

If it had connected.

At the last possible moment, arms wrapped around the top rope, Phoenix sat down, pulling the ropes down sharply and as Douglas connected with nothing but thin air he brought his shoulder up into his mid-section – giving momentum and gravity a helping hand as he threw the man known as Megatron to the unforgiving floor below.

Nick: Phoenix getting rid of Douglas.

Richard: Which still leaves Nobel in the ring, and we both know that he has beaten Phoenix before.

Nick: There were reasons for that…

Richard: Don’t care.  Nobel beat Phoenix, simple as that, in one of the quickest matches in PRIME history too!

Nick: Sure, he has a win in the books but he has to give credit for the assist t Jason Natas for that.

As Phoenix turns back to the ring he sees David Nobel approaching him and, with a flurry of speed and agility, Phoenix throws himself forwards, leg snapping out to catch Noble directly in the chin.

Richard: LIGHTS OUT!

Nick: You see – without distractions Phoenix is capable of holding his own.

Without pausing Phoenix reaches down and drags Noble up by his neck, placing him between his legs as he signals to the crowd that he is ready to finish things with his patented Phoenix Rising.

And he possibly would have – if it had connected.

"Yo, Flamebird."

A hoarse, gravel-rough voice crackles through the speakers, immediately distracting the attention of the fans, the announcers, and Jay Phoenix.

"BOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Nick: It’s Natas! Natas is on the screen!

Richard: Speak of the Devil – this is your fault, you know.  It’s like you summoned him or something!

Up on the PRIMEview, Jason Natas sparks up a cigarette and flashes the crowd a yellow-toothed grin. As The Anti-Superstar takes a long, cathartic drag, Jay’s head snaps up towards the screen.

Nick: I don’t like this one bit, Richard…

Richard: Let’s just hear what he has to say first, Nick. Jay’s already sent Rick home for the night – it can’t be anything too bad…

Slowly nodding his head as he exhales the toxic fumes through his nose, the rough-shaven New Yorker shifts his weight from foot-to-foot as the camera zooms out a little. White walls with oak panelling provide the backdrop of a dimly lit room that’s unmistakable as a standard-issue PRIME locker-room.

Natas: S’right, get yer mitts off that fuckin’ waster an’ take notice, ‘cause this is gon’ require every last drop ‘a yer attention.

Locked in a dreadful trance at the sight of a man he’s been trying to avoid all night, Phoenix drops Nobel limply to the mat and steps towards the ropes.

Natas: Helluva stupid thing you an’ yer boy went an’ did at 200, son. Helluva stupid thing. For a man s’been doin’ this for as long as you have, you really ain’t all that smart, are ya? Been tellin’ you for months, boyo; this game ain’t for you no more. Yer getting’ old – them legs ain’t movin’ as fast as they used to, an’ that pe-brain ‘a years ain’t workin’ like it used to. Ya ain’t what ya used to be, boyo, an’ ya can’t afford t’be makin’ enemies of men like me no more.

Nick: What’s his point?

Richard: If he’s trying to distract Phoenix, he’s going about it the right way; Douglas and Noble aren’t going to be out of action for long.

Natas: I think I’ve been pretty damn lenient on ya thus far, shithound. Been willin’ to let a lot ‘a yer shit fly… but when you an’ yer boyfriend decided t’go layin’ yer hands on me last week? Well, let’s just say ya can forget ‘bout any more compassion from now on. Ain’t nobody in this fuckin’ company goes layin’ their hands on me; not you, an’ ‘specially not yer boy. An’ speakin’ a’ which, it such wasn’t one ‘a yer better ideas lettin’ ‘im go home alone t’night…

Face rife with worry, Phoenix leans over the top rope as the camera pans out inside the locker-room. Jay recognises the layout of the locker-room immediately – it’s his own.

And the motionless figure all tied-up on the chair behind Jason?

… you do the maths, Einstein.

Nick: Oh my God…

Richard: He’s… he’s got Rick! For the love of Hoyt!

Nick: Jason Natas has Jay Phoenix’s partner tied-up and at his mercy!

The camera’s too low to pick up Rick’s face, but Phoenix can tell from the attire that it’s him. Instinctively he drops to the mat, rolls under the bottom rope, and charges up the ramp. On the screen, Jason smiles.

Natas: Hurry ‘long now, boyo; ‘lil fairy here ain’t got much time left…

Suddenly the feed on the PRIMEview switches away from the match again. Jay Phoenix sprints through the corridors; ducking and diving passed objects and technicians like a professional boxer.

Richard: Phoenix is on the move! Guess he’s thrown all out aspirations of winning this match…

Nick: He’s gotta get to Rick before that sick bastard Natas does something stupid! His partner’s well-being is a lot more important than pinning David Noble or Troy Douglas …

Jay comes round a corner at such speed that he almost knocks himself to the floor, but he rights himself and continues on his way. He slows to a jog as he nears his locker-room, taking time to cast a hasty glance over each door.

Vashaun, Rhine, Korver. Time seems glacial as he passes by doors belonging to other men. His pulse quickens and perspiration flows freely from every pore, but he does not stop. Eventually he reaches the one marked "Phoenix", and without knowing what dreadful sight awaits him on the other side, Jay barges through with the precision and grace of a rhinoceros.

Vision darts around the room at 1,000 mph. Can't focus. Can't steady himself.

Flashes his gaze back and forth. By the bathroom. No Natas. In the corner. No Natas. Behind the door. No Natas. At the other side of the room. Rick.

Nick: Thank God!

He can't find Jason but he doesn't care. Rick's there, and Jason isn't. Phoenix leaps across the room towards his partner – his quickened pulse refusing to allow him to breathe easy.

Phoenix: Rick...

Sees Rick isn't moving. Panics. Grabs his shirt, shakes. Nothing happens.

Richard: Is he...?

That's when he realises that something is very wrong.

Nick: Wait a minute...

Richard: ...that's...

Nick: It's a DUMMY! That's not Rick!

Richard: HAHAHAHAHA! Are you kidding me?! That was a dummy all along ... and not just any old dummy but one of those inflatable guy-dolls that Phoenix has, perhaps, seen before, ey?

Nick: You are disgusting.

Richard: Who cares? Phoenix has been duped again!

Jay Phoenix is incandescent. Pushing his frustrated palms into his temples, he violently kicks out at the chair, toppling both it and the Rick dummy to the deck. It's then that a small, folded piece of paper stuffed into the gaping hole that passes for a mouth on the dummy catches his attention. Grabbing it Phoenix sees the untidy handwriting scrawled across it.

Too fucking easy.

Oh – and that noise?  That would be you losing.  Again.

- Your friend, Jase.

P.S. Keep the doll.

With things down to just two, the fans rise to their feet in anticipation. Troy Douglas pulls himself up with some help from the ring apron. In the ring, Noble begins to stir, then slowly starts to stand.

Nick: Jay Phoenix is gone, and now it’s just Troy Douglas and David Noble, both fighting to find that second wind.

Megatron slides under the bottom rope and slowly heads towards Noble, just as the Intense Title contender gets to his feet. Douglas fires off with a right hook that rocks Noble, but the young sensation fires right back. The shot causes the former Intense Champion to stagger, but Douglas keeps his balance, slamming home another hard right.

RRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

The crowd roars as the two warriors stand in the middle of the squared circle and exchange punches, each connected shot drawing an increasingly louder reaction from the fans.

Nick: Look at these two men just slug it out!

Richard: They’re gonna knock each other out!

After what seems like twenty punches, Douglas gains the advantage, connecting with four massive right shots in a row. A left hook follows all the rights, knocking Noble back to the corner. Grabbing David by the tights, Megatron hoists his opponent up and onto the second rope. With cautious steps, he begins to follow, climbing the cables.

Nick: Both men in dangerous territory.

When Douglas has joined Noble on the second rope, he begins to hook his arms under Noble’s, but the #1 contender to the Intense title rips an arm free and slams a forearm into Troy’s jaw. The blow does just enough to push Douglas back, leaving him teetering from the second turnbuckle. A second forearm knocks Douglas from the rope.

As Troy crashes to the mat, he lands high on his shoulders and rolls through with his momentum, popping right back to his feet. Noble realizes he can’t waste a moment. Leaping off the middle turnbuckle, Noble spins ninety degrees, springboarding off the adjacent rope. As he soars through the air.

Just as Douglas gets to his feet, he’s driven to the mat with a three-quarter facelock reverse DDT.

Nick: The Noble Ending!

Taking a deep breath, Noble drapes his body across Douglas and hooks a leg as Elvis Nixon makes the count.

ONE…




TWO…




THREE!

‘Ding Ding Ding’

Nick: He got him!

"Let it Rock" cues up as Noble rolls off.

Richard: That came outta nowhere.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner of the match…David Nooooobbbblllleeeee!

Noble rises to his knees, then to his feet as Nixon raises his hand in victory.

Nick: It was a short, fast-paced, crazy match that saw one of the competitors bolt from the ring, leaving in the middle of the match. And through all the chaos, David Noble found a way to win this thing.

Richard: Just the sort of momentum a guy with an Intense Title shot would love to carry into Colossus.

Nick: And just three weeks from CVI, its hard to argue against the chances of David Noble.

Nick: It’s been a great night of action so far, folks, and we have plenty more to come. Our main event promises to-

Our esteemed announcer is cut short by the futuristic (for those days) keyboard opening of "Karn Evil 9" by Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.

Welcome back, my friends
To the show that never ends.
We’re so glad you could attend
Come inside! Come inside!

Richard: Yes~! Now this show is gonna have a little class.

Nick: (disgusted) Oh, great! What does HE want?

Richard: Whatever it is, it’s bound to be WAY over your head. You have no comprehension of superior intellect.

As expected, here’s what the crowd thinks:

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Not that he cares. Tyler Nelson steps out from the back, flanked on his right side by his personal security detail, Mr. Simmons. The former owner of PRIME curls his upper lip in a disgusted snarl as he looks out upon the mass of fans that despise his very existence. Nelson marches toward the ring, his grey pinstriped suit getting pelted by a few ice cubes and various other debris along the way. He simply brushes any remnants off as Mr. Simmons makes a path down the aisle.

Nick: The hatred for this man runs so deep with many of our fans.

Richard: Too bad your wife doesn’t know about anything running deep.

The King of Greed ascends the ring steps and climbs through the ropes, followed by the black suited, black sunglasses wearing Mr. Simmons. Nelson commands the microphone from Vince Howard, arrogantly snatching it from his outstretched hand as Simmons sets up shop in the far back corner of the ring so he’s able to see almost the whole arena, especially the ramp leading to the ring. Nelson raises the mic to speak, but he has to pause.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nick: If only that’s all it took to shut that man up.

Richard: Shut up!! Can’t you see DA BOSS~! is trying to speak?!.

Nelson’s eyes dart angrily from side to side as he glares at the capacity crowd, who haven’t let their vocal disdain for him subside. The show must go on, however, and Nelson bellows loudly into the microphone to be heard.

Tyler: As much as you people try to act like you can’t stand me, I’ve proven time and again that you’re drawn to me like a moth to a flame. You flock to the arenas, tune in on your television sets, and open up your wallets for pay per view events just to get a taste of what Tyler Nelson has to offer.

A cocky smirk slithers across the face of the Greediest Player in the Game for the first time this evening.

Tyler: And judging by the ratings for the last two weeks, every single one of you absolutely LOVES IT!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nick: As much as I hate to admit it, the ratings for the last two weeks have been noticeably up.

Richard: Tyler Nelson is the King of Ratings, Nick. He has a proven track record.

Tyler: That’s right, people. The sight of me may not cause orgasms, but my presence most definitely causes ratings to go through the roof! It is a documented fact. Over the last two weeks we’ve seen a direct correlation between Tyler Nelson on camera and ratings being the highest they’ve been in recent memory.

Nelson gets a devilish glint in his eye as he stares into the camera.

Tyler: Isn’t that right, Lisa?

The Greediest Player in the Game grins and winks, his arrogance oozing.

Nick: The vendetta that Tyler Nelson has against Lisa Tyler for making him her subordinate has got to be reaching a boiling point. He sent her to Nicaragua for God’s sake!

Richard: What? Are you racist toward people from Nicaragua?

Nick: Well…no, of course not! I was just…

Richard: Yeah, quit while you’re behind genius.

Tyler: That’s just got to be eating you up inside, Lisa. Knowing that you can’t compete with me…that I’m better than you. You put on this tough bitch façade, but I know it’s just a cover to hide the fact that you’re scared someone might find out how weak you really are. You’re scared of me! You’re in way over your head, Lisa, and while you might have thought keeping me under your thumb was a good idea at the time, I’m quite positive that you now regret that decision with your every waking moment. I know the board of directors is second guessing themselves for putting you in charge after what I’ve given them the last few weeks.

Nelson sneers as the crowd continues to shower him with angry boos. They might think Lisa Tyler can be a bitch sometimes, but they absolutely, unequivocally hate Tyler Nelson.

And he loves every minute of it.

Tyler: So….what to do for an encore? I’ve already taken over one show, and did a DAMN fine job, if I may say so myself. Do I go ahead and hijack Colossus VI? Do I do what Lisa Tyler can’t and actually turn a profit on a pay per view? (shakes his head slowly from side to side) Nah, ol’ Lisa can put that one in the tank, too, just like Ultraviolence. Then the Board will be literally begging me to take over for her.

Nelson takes position in the center of the ring, puffing his chest.

Tyler: No, I think I deserve a match. I mean, last week I single handedly carried my team for that entire match. While Chander Tsonda and Wade Elliott were outside having a girly slap fight, and Vangelus Oslig and Killean Sirrajin were busy counting arena lights, it was Tyler Nelson who was kicking ass and taking names.

The King of Greed reaches inside his suit jacket’s inner breast pocket, producing a 3x5 note card. He quickly looks it over before tossing it aside.

Tyler: As a matter of fact, the name on the top of that list happens to be the number one contender for the Universal Title, Kaiser Vashaun!

Crowd: RUAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A nice pop for Kaiser, made all the more louder by the fact it was Nelson giving him the badmouth.

Tyler: Now, back when I ran things, beating the number one contender made the person who beat them the number one contender. So, with that being said, I am demanding that I replace Kaiser Vashaun in the Universal Title match at Colossus VI to face Jason Snow!

Nelson smirks and nods his head affirmatively as the crowd reacts as expected.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nick: Can you believe this man’s arrogance? He thinks that after one match, in which he did little more than cheat, he deserves a shot at the most prestigious title in wrestling?

Richard: His resume speaks for itself, Nick. He has a pinfall victory over the number one contender.

Nick: Gimme a break!! That was in a 10-man tag team match where so many other factors were involved!

Richard: Did Nelson pin Vashaun?

Nick: Yes, but…

Richard: ‘Nuff said.

Tyler: Just imagine it….Nelson versus Snow….the biggest event of the year! Scratch that. The biggest event in HISTORY! The mere thought of that would certainly cause the Board of Directors to orgasm!

Richard: I don’t know if Snow is gonna like Nelson using his lines like that.

Nick: It’s free pub.

"Right now, the only thing I can imagine is putting you in front of a firing squad, Nelson."

The voice is familiar, and so is the woman behind it. Lisa Tyler strides out from the back and stands atop the ramp, looking down at the ring. She’s flanked by the massive head of security for PRIME, Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas. The crowd gives her a huge pop, understandable given the circumstances. Nelson looks up at Lisa, a greedy smile on his face.

Tyler: I was wondering when you would come out here and try to sponge some of my success. And you’re right on cue, killing a match that would set gate records and send pay per view buys through the atmosphere. Typical of your business sense, I suppose.

Nelson rolls his eyes and points a thumb toward Lisa, who just stands there stone faced, and icy glare aimed at the ring.

Lisa: While I was losing brain cells listening to your little tirade, I was forced to agree with one of the points you made. Nelson, you do deserve a match at Colossus.

Nelson smiles big in the ring.

Tyler: Nelson versus Snow, Universal Title! Nothing else makes sense!

BLT shakes her head.

Lisa: Not at gunpoint, Nelson. You will never have a Universal Title shot as long as I'm the steward of this company.

Crowd: RUAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The King of Greed furrows his brow, and now it’s his turn to glare at Lisa Tyler.

Lisa: But that doesn't mean I can't use you to boost our buyrate. My marketing team tells me that there are literally hundreds of thousands of people in this country who'll tune in if there's a decent probability of Tyler Nelson getting his ass handed to him on live TV.

BLT smiles as Nelson mouths some inaudible unpleasantries.

Nick: Lisa Tyler has come out and silenced the massive ego of Tyler Nelson.

Richard: She’s riding coattails, Nick. She’s just trying to get a rub.

After a few moments, Nelson angrily raises the microphone to his mouth.

Tyler: So are you going to tell me who it is, or do I have to come up there and do that for you, too?

Lisa: Please, Nelson. As if you don't know.

BLT smiles that indomitable smile of hers, shifting to the left of the stage for the superstar about to emerge form the back.

"Ladies and gentlemen please, would you bring your attention to me.
For a feast for your eyes to see, an explosion of catastrophe.
Like nothing you've ever seen before, watch closely as I open this door.
Your jaws will be on the floor, after this you'll be begging for more."

All semblance of anger and arrogance disappear from the visage of Tyler Nelson. His eyes grow wide and his jaw becomes slack. The arena, predictably, absolutely explodes.

Crowd: RUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nick: Oh my GOD!!

Richard: That devil woman! This is a conspiracy!

"Welcome to the shooooooooooow.
Please come insiiiiiiiiiiiide!"

The Wal-Tron flickers to life, two words flashing on the screen, one after the other.

Supreme.

Machine.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" ("BOOM!")

Crowd: RUAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

The Supreme Maching himself, Killean Sirrajin, steps out through the curtains, thrusting them aside and releasing a primal scream as he steps to the top of the ramp.

"DO YA WANT IT?! ("BOOM!")

"DO YA NEED IT?!" ("BOOM!")

"LET ME HEAR IT! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" ("BOOM!")

"DO YA WANT IT?!" ("BOOM!")

"DO YA NEED IT?!" ("BOOM!")

"LET ME HEAR IIIIIIIT!!!!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

Crowd: RUAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nick: This crowd is going absolutely apeshit!! Killean Sirrajin is finally going to get some payback on Tyler Nelson for what he did on Rev 196.

Richard: Killean is a LIAR!! He said last week that he forgave Nelson for that!

Nick: Not so fast my friend! He said they couldn’t go back and change it. He never said anything about changing Nelson’s appearance in the future….at COLOSSUS VI!

In the ring, the King of Greed takes a few steps back and spins on his heel, turning his back to Killean and Lisa. He covers his mouth with his hand for a few moments, taking in the gravity of the situation. On the top of the ramp, BLT actually smiles. Killean looks pumped up as ever, wrenching his hands as he leers down at the ring and his opponent for Colossus.

Lisa: Since your audiovisual comprehension skills aren't exactly up to snuff, I'll put the pieces together for you. It's time to pay the piper at Colossus VI, and the piper's name is Killean Sirrajin.

Crowd: RUAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nelson’s face slowly starts to contort from one of shock and fear, to one of anger. A scowl covers his face, his lips curling and eyes narrow. The Greediest Player in the Game slowly turns around, first his head, then the rest of his body. He looks up and sees a smiling Killean Sirrajin standing next to a rather satisfied Lisa Tyler.

Tyler: So this is how it’s going to be, eh? The two of you were conspiring against me last week, weren’t you? Plotting and planning your next move to try and keep me from my rightful place at the head of the table? (pause) (explosion) NO ONE MAKES A FOOL OUT OF TYLER NELSON!!!

The King of Greed froth’s at the mouth slightly as he points toward at a smirking Lisa Tyler.

Tyler: You think you got one over on me? You think you’re one-upped Tyler Nelson? Think again, sweet-cakes! All you’ve manage to do now is PISS ME OFF!

He then points at Killean.

Tyler: And YOU!! Heh…I’ve seen you in action recently. Your retirement couldn’t come at a better time, because last I checked you were getting punked out by a limp wrist while I was pinning the shoulders of the Universal Title number one contender to the mat.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Tyler: You know what? We don’t have to wait for Colossus. I’ll kick your ass RIGHT NOW!!

Nick: WHOA!! Tyler Nelson just called Killean Sirrajin out!

Richard: Umm…Mr. Nelson, let’s not be hasty here.

Nelson angrily peels his suit jacket off and tosses it over the ropes as he orders Mr. Simmons out of the ring. He paces the squared circle and loosens his tie as Killean looks out toward the fans, raising his arms to his side as if looking for approval.

Crowd: RUAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

He resoundingly gets it. Sirrajin starts toward the ring as Nelson stands on the far side, motioning with his hands for Killean to come down. The PRIME Cut gains a head of steam and slides in under the bottom rope. Nelson is on him immediately with stomps to the back and head. The King of Greed maniacally pounds away on the body of Sirrajin, but the former 2-time Universal Champion powers his way to his feet. He stands face to face with Nelson, who fires a right hand to the jaw of Killean.

Nick: Nelson put everything he had behind that punch and Killean didn’t even flinch!

Richard: RUN!!

Nelson frowns and fires another right hand that lands square, but all it does is knock Sirrajin’s sunglasses crooked. The PRIME Choice carefully reaches up and removes the sunglasses from his face. He calmly folds them and tosses them to the mat. Nelson immediately starts to beg off and backpedal, but he’s still within reach of the Hall of Famer. Killean reaches out and grabs Nelson’s tie, pulling the King of Greed in close, wrapping the tie around his fist. The crowd erupts as Killean raises his free hand slowly in the air while Nelson squirms and tries to free himself.

Nick: DO IT!!

Killean plants a kiss on his fist before firing a devastating right hand that sends Nelson crashing to the mat. The Greediest Player in the Game scrambles back to his feet only to be send sprawling back down by another vicious right hand from Sirrajin. The Supreme Machine quickly pounces on Nelson, pulling him up to his feet again and whipping him into the far corner. Like a freight train out of control, Sirrajin follows him in and almost takes Nelson’s head off with a huge clothesline. The former owner of PRIME collapses in the corner, dazed and confused. The crowd roars as Killean stalks around the ring, arms in the air.

Nick: This is what Tyler Nelson has to look forward to in two weeks!! Killean Sirrajin is going to destroy him!

Richard: How about you be fair and impartial? Nelson wasn’t prepared for a match tonight!

Nick: He called Killean down!!

Richard: He’ll be ready come Colossus.

Sirrajin looks back at Nelson, who is using the ropes to pull himself up. Killean walks over and positions Nelson in the corner before mounting the second turnbuckle. More fists rain down on Nelson’s head, ten of them in fact. The crowd counts along with each thunderous right hand to Nelson’s skull.

Crowd: One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six…Seven…Eight…Nine…Ten!!!

Killean hops down and drags Nelson to the middle of the ropes, then sends him in for the ride to the other side. Nelson bounces off the far ropes, but goes face first to the mat as Mr. Simmons grabs his boss’ feet and pulls him out of the ring.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Nick: Mr. Simmons just earned every bit of his paycheck, because he just saved Nelson from getting annihilated by The Supreme Machine.

Simmons throws Nelson’s arm over his shoulder and helps the staggering King of Greed toward the back. In the ring Killean looks on with a smirk on his face, playing to the crowd. As Simmons and Nelson reach the top of the ramp, they stop in front of Lisa Tyler. Dam steps forward to make sure there weren’t any silly ideas running through Nelson’s head. The Greediest Player in the Game glares, then winces in pain and clutches his head as Simmons helps him to the back.

Nick: Two weeks…Colossus VI…Killean Sirrajin….Tyler Nelson…One on One!! I can’t wait!!

Richard: Not good, Mav.

The crowd is still cheering, one of the last times for the man ready to step through the curtain into the backstage area. As "Ladies and Gentlemen" still plays, the curtain parts and The Supreme Machine comes down the steps. Before he could set his feet on solid concrete however, Matt Mills is quick to intercept. Killean greets Mills as he takes his place beside one of the Colossus Six promotional banners hanging around the arena.

Matt Mills: Killean, I gotta say you handled business out there just a second ago and now you have your final hurrah at Colossus against Nelson. Did you request this match or was it Lisa's decision?

Sirrajin smirks at the question, knowing that The Greediest Player in the Game would love his answer.

Killean: To be honest Matt, and I'm sure you figured this out before, Lisa and I both came up with the decision to make this happen. I didn't have an active contract and she suggested the idea, so I said sure. Why not get Tyler Nelson in the middle of the ring before I bid my final farewells and hand his ass to him like never before? I'm in possibly the best shape of my career and I will accept nothing less than tearing Nelson apart limb from limb in front of millions of people.

The PRIME Choice reaches to his side and grabs the promotional banner hanging beside him and shows it to the camera and to Matt Mills.

Killean: This right here is what it's all about. The biggest show of the year and possibly the biggest show this business has ever seen. Colossus is the godfather of wrestling events. I've been at every Colossus except the fourth one and I'll never forget it. I'll never forget Colossus VI because it'll be when I enter that ring for the final time as an active roster member and make Tyler Nelson pay for everything he's done to me and to Lisa Tyler. I say to him now, bring Simmons, bring some weapons... hell bring the entire New England Patriots football team to Fenway Park. I doubt they'd ever help that greasy worm but they couldn't even stop me from giving Tyler every bit of pain his pathetic body can handle...

Killean is suddenly cut off by a bottle of water flying by his head. Matt Mills ducks out of the way and turns around to see numerous security personnel holding back the much smaller frame of Tyler Nelson.

Killean: You gotta be kidding...

Yes you heard it right, it's taking a good handful of security to hold back the former owner of PRIME from getting his hands on his Colossus opponent. One has to wonder if the security knows that it's really playing the role of protecting Tyler Nelson instead of preventing him from getting in a fight.

Tyler Nelson: YOU! YOU BASTARD! JUST WAIT TILL THESE APES LET ME GO AND I'LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER GET TO COLOSSUS...

Either Nelson is really fighting against his restraints or he's gonna win the best actors awards at most major shows next year cause he's really putting on a great performance. One would have to assume the latter is true as security gets a push in the right direction by Sirrajin himself as he takes a couple steps towards the group. They begin to pull The Greediest Player in the Game back away from the stage area again as Killean and Matt Mills look on.

Matt Mills: Can't help but smile at that huh?

The Supreme Machine does just that, shaking his head.

Killean: Could he really fathom what's gonna happen to him at Colossus?

Matt Mills: Tyler Nelson in pain makes me a happy person. Take it easy out there champ.

Mills pats Killean on the shoulder, a friendly gesture from the interviewer who has possibly been around PRIME just as long as Sirrajin himself.

The PRIME Choice puts his hands on his hips and smiles as he watches the last of Tyler Nelson disappear around the corridor.

Fans in the XL Center are already buzzing. ReVolution is just that fucking good. But when the sounds of "Jackson, Mississippi" bust through the arena, that buzz increases ten-fold.

Nick: Looks like we’re about to be joined by the 5 Star Champion.

Richard: Listen to these clowns.

Nick: I’m not sure if they’re cheering for Kaiser so much as the though of a face to face confrontation between Vashaun and Snow… and the baseball bat.

Richard: Well I’m not among the blood-thirsty. Our Universal Champion doesn’t deserve to be assaulted with any sort of deadly weapon. These fans are just sick. How about a call for peace?

Nick: I wouldn’t hold your breath.

The Next in Line emerges at the top of the stage, bat in his right hand, 5 Star title in his left.

The black t-shirt and jeans are a departure from his typical pin-striped suits, but given his intentions for the evening, an expendable t-shirt and jeans is probably the best bet.

Blood doesn’t always wash out so easily.

Vashaun makes his way down to the ring, up the steps and through the ropes. He immediately drops the 5 Star title belt on the canvas and crosses the squared circle, calling for Vince Howard to hand him a microphone.

Richard: He better offer up an apology for causing Snow’s elimination in the main event ten man tag at ReV 200.

The Next in Line marches to the center of the ring and taps the end of the bat on the canvas.

Kaiser Vashaun: I’ve just spent entirely too much time trudging through every backstage hallway in this building looking for our Universal Champion. Unfortunately, Snow seems to have gone into hiding.

Richard: How dare he say that! Jason Snow has steam rolled every opponent ever set in front of him. He doesn’t hide from anybody.

Nick: He sure seems to have made himself scarce here tonight.

Kaiser Vashaun: At ReVolution 200, Jason Snow double-crossed me. Forced to team together in the Elimination Challenge, we made a deal to put our differences aside for one night and do what needed to be done to just win, baby. But, as I figured, Snow was just looking for the best opportunity to strike.

The Next in Line lifts his bat and points it towards the massive PRIME*View.

The screen comes to life, replaying the events of ReV 200. Just as Kaiser is about to hit The Weight of the World and eliminate Tyler Nelson, Snow strikes out of nowhere, slamming home a perfect superkick. The result is Vashaun collapsing to the mat, Nelson falling right across him. One three-count later and The Next in Line… eliminated.

As the video wraps up, Kaiser shakes his head.

Kaiser Vashaun: And that was just the first time. Because one good double-cross wasn’t enough, Jason Snow did it again in the battle royal, waiting like a weasel in the shadows for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Nick: A fair point. Jason Snow waited till Kaiser Vashaun was pre-occupied to make his move.

Richard: Nothing wrong with using the element of surprise to your advantage.

Nick: You could argue that it was more cowardice than ‘surprise’.

Richard: And you’d be wrong.

The Next in Line paces back and forth for a moment, wearing a spot thin in the middle of the ring.

Kaiser Vashaun: I came here tonight looking for a little payback… something I promised The Original Villain he’d get a taste of if he got in my way. And I’ve spent the better part of the evening looking and looking. Now, I’m done looking. Plan B looks like an appeal to that massive, uncontrollable ego that Snow walks around with.

Richard: He better stop runnin’ his mouth.

Kaiser Vashaun: Jason, I know you’re here, somewhere in this building. I gave you my word that there’d be hell to pay if you crossed me at ReV 200, and its time I deliver on that promise. If your sorry ass has the sack, why don’t you come down to the ring, and we’ll give these fans a Colossus preview.

YYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!

The thought of seeing Champion Vs Champion three weeks early draws a thunderous cheer from the crowd.

Richard: He's going to regret calling out the best guy in this business.

The 5 Star Champ stands in the ring, title belt at his feet, microphone in one hand, the Mattingly bat in the other. Every set of eyes in the building are locked on the entrance set. But, as two or three seconds of silence turns to twenty or thirty, the crowd grows impatient.

So does the Next in Line.

Kaiser Vashaun: C'mon, Champ. I'll tell ya what... I was just trying to keep with the spirit of CVI at Fenway Park, but if it'll make ya feel better...

The Next in Line holds out his arm and drops the baseball bat. The weapon lands on the canvas and rolls off to the side.

Kaiser Vashaun: I don't need the bat to knock your head off anyways.

RRRRRAAAAAAHHHH!

Richard: He's completely lost his mind.

Again, there's a few moments of silence. A few members of the crowd start to boo. But no sooner do their jeers begin, then the sounds of 'Right Next Door to Hell' silence the critics.

Richard: Here he comes!

Nick: I think things could get ugly! Lisa Tyler is NOT going to want to give away her CVI main event on free TV. But by God, we're going to love seeing it!

Only there doesn't seem to be anything to see. The Champ's music continues to play, but no one emerges from behind the curtain at the top of the stage.

Richard: where is he?

Offering an immediate answer, the PRIME*View flicks to life, Jason Snow's smirk filling the screen.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: What the hell is this?

Jason Snow: Looking for me, plebe?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

In the ring, Kaiser bites his bottom lip, a clear look of frustration on his face.

Kaiser Vashaun: I should have figured. All that talent, that track record of impressive accomplishments, and yet, when push comes to shove... a gutless coward at heart.

Jason Snow: Ya know something, champ... all that complaining about being stabbed in the back at ReV 200, I'm beginning to think we're going to see the first ever 5 Star Champion to break down and cry in the middle of the ring.

Nick: i haven't heard anyone complaining. Just Kaiser speaking the truth.

Richard: In a really whiney sorta way.

Jason Snow: Let's face facts, plebe. You said yourself earlier tonight... it came as no surprise when I dislodged your jaw with my boot. You knew it was coming. You knew it was coming and you couldn't do anything to stop it. And that's the important thing to take away from ReV 200, Kaiser. Even when you know its coming, you can't do anything about it. I'm faster than you. I'm quicker than you. I'm smarter than you... just all around better than you. And no matter how much you study tape. No matter how much you train your heart out between now and Colossus, when you step into that ring with me on August 16th, you just won't be better than me. It isn't happening, champ.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Jason Snow: I hope you enjoyed getting me eliminated from the tag match at 200, because that's the closest you'll ever be to getting one over on me, plebe.

Nick: What a pompous ass!

Richard: Truth hurts, pal.

The Next in Line, nods his head, taking it all in. His gaze never leaves the screen, burning a hole into the massive image of the Universal Champion.

Kaiser Vashaun: Are you finished now?

There's no response from Snow.

Kaiser Vashaun: Good. Cuz I was going to use that bat to put me out of my misery if I had to listen to another second of that shit. The truth is, Jason...

As the 5 Star Champion begins to call a spade a spade, there's movement in the crowd. Fans begin to part as a figure hops the barricade and slides into the ring.

Nick: Wait a minute...

Kaiser Vashaun:... you can act like you're not afraid all you want. At the end of the...

Before he can finish that thought, Kaiser feels a hand on his left shoulder spin him around. Before he's even spun a full 180 degrees around, he's dropped to the canvas in the blink of an eye.

CRACK!

Richard: Snake Eyes!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

The crowd showers the ring with a chorus of boos as The Original Villain stands over his fallen CVI opponent.

Nick: This whole thing was a set-up! That was a pre-recorded promo on the PRIME*View!

Richard: It was brilliant!

Nick: It was disgusting. The whole thing was a ploy to set Kaiser up!

Richard: He did say he was smarter than Vashaun.

The crowd continues to rain down with boos as Snow looks down at the unconscious Kaiser. A sick smirk begins to spread across the champion's face as his eyes move towards the 5 Star title belt lying on the canvas.

Reaching down, Snow grabs his own Universal title that he'd dropped in the ring, then leans forward and peels the 5 Star title belt from the mat.

Richard: They call this a 'sneak peek', Nick. We're getting to witness what it's going to look like at CVI when Jason Snow makes history... becoming the first man to ever hold the Universal and 5 Star Championships at the same time!

'Right Next Door to Hell' once again fills the XL Center as The Original Villain lifts both arms high into the air, the Universal title in one hand, the 5 Star title in the other.

And at his feet, The Next in Line lies motionless, courtesy of Snake Eyes.

That makes three times.

Nick: Our next contest features the leader of GCW's movement, Garbage Bag Johnny, taking on one of his own associates, perhaps the hottest associate running through PRIME right now, Chainz.

Richard: Lisa Tyler made these matches earlier in the evening, an attempt to try and sway Chainz and Hessian back onto the PRIME side.

Nick: Personally, I don't think it's going to happen. Hessian went around Lisa to get his Elite Championship match and hasn't been convinced since UltraViolence. Chainz has been an outcast since his return and its pretty hard to persuade someone so depraved.

Richard: You know Nick, I, like anybody, enjoy a good red headed dominatrix-

Nick: Why did I pass up that job to be guest General Manager of Raw for this week?

Richard: -But even I know that a team like Hessian, GBJ, and Chainz won't be overthrown easily.

Nick: Well, we're going to see if their unity can pass through a test. Vince, we await the introductions.

Vince Howard: This contest is scheduled for one fall and is under First Blood rules. If you do not know the rules for this match by now, you are a complete dope.

"My Gift to You" by Korn hits the speakers and the crowd goes in a frenzy of boos and any other insults they can hurl as perhaps the most hated and evil wrestler in PRIME history emerges from the backstage area.

Vince Howard: Introducing first, from Hells Kitchen, New York, weighing in at 295 pounds...CHAINZ!

The menacing Chainz doesn't look pleased as he makes his way towards the ring. His lovely wife Tracy is walking by his side smiling like usual and waving to the fans.

As the boos continue to rain down Michael Sloan slides into the ring and paces back and forth waiting for his opponent.

Nick: He's reeled off five singles victories in a row against two of PRIME's champions and a slew of others. Tonight, he goes for six against the current Dual Halo winner.

Vince Howard: And his opponent, hailing from the dumpster just behind GCW headquarters-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Vince Howard: Weighing in at 221 pounds, the 2009 Dual Halo Winner and Dirtiest Dude in PRIME...GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!

"Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero II Hero" by Garbage Bag Johnny rolls out from the backstage area and receives a massive amount of boos. Not many fans are fond of the GCW crusade and they are letting Johnny know how they feel. Although, there's a high probability he is both drunk and high, which is why he waves like the Queen and screams "Down with Churchill". He rolls under the bottom rope and waits for the referee to call the bell.

Richard: Well, you know what they say, even geniuses can sometimes look like idiots upon first glance.

Nick: Yeah, but we've known GBJ on and off for about two and a half years and he hasn't done anything except put on pants.

Richard: Considering his constant use of teabagging, wouldn't you consider that an improvement?

Nick reluctantly agrees and the match is underway.

DING! DING! DING!

Chainz comes out of the corner a tad reluctantly, as does Garbage Bag Johnny. Neither of them really want to compete against the other, but Lisa Tyler has backed them into a corner. Word running through the locker room is that she'll give both of them pink slips if they back out or refuse to battle. The Monster and Dirtiest Dude in PRIME exchange some words before going into a collar and elbow lock up. Chainz uses his distinct power advantage, backing GBJ into the corner and over the turnbuckle. Bernie Roberts comes in from the side and taps Chainz on the shoulder, demanding a clean break. To his amazement, the Monster complies and backs away, allowing GBJ access into the center of the ring.

Nick: That's something I've seldom seen out of Chainz. You have to wonder how long these two are going to keep the kiddie gloves on before going to war.

Richard: A boss shouldn't make friends fight for the sole purpose of promoting her own agenda.

Nick: She wants to nip GCW's uprising in the bud before it gets out of control.

Richard: She's a sad excuse for a boss is what she is.

Chainz and Johnny lock up again. This time, as GBJ is being backed into the corner, he's able to slip free from the grasp and push Chainz back. Roberts calls for another break and receives one from the Dual Halo winner. Chainz walks out and summons Johnny.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Chainz and Johnny are going to talk this thing out. You know Tyler has to be watching and waiting with anticipation.

Richard: PRIME was able to survive SCCW's invasion without getting run over. I'm sure we are capable of handling this one.

Nick: Lisa Tyler wasn't at the helm for that and as we've seen since her takeover, her style of running PRIME is vastly different than CP Cantrell's.

The Monster and GBJ continue talking, each nodding their head in affirmation when the other one speaks. Roberts tries to get in the middle, but receives two paws to the chest and is shoved away. After two more attempts, he moves back to the corner and taps his foot impatiently. Chainz and Johnny nod their heads simultaneously and begin throwing haymakers on each other. Chainz gets the first blow with Johnny right behind him.

Richard: Is this what you've been waiting to see, Nick? Are you happy now?

Nick: Chainz and Johnny finally hooking it up. Chainz is using his body weight and putting Johnny on his heels.

The Monster has a 70 pound weight advantage and is using his big reach to keep GBJ away from getting inside. He gets Johnny against the ropes and fires him across the ring with an Irish whip. Chainz goes for the clothesline, but Johnny ducks underneath, bounces off the opposite side, ducks under another lariat, and runs the ropes for a third time. Chainz fakes a clothesline and goes for the body, extending his foot out and landing a big time kick. Even someone with a black lung is going to feel the kind of force Chainz brings with his size 18 boot. The Monster moves closer, locking his hands around GBJ's neck. He brings a razor sharp knee into the forehead of GBJ. The Dirtiest Dude tries to slip out, but Chainz has such a powerful grip that escape isn't possible. GBJ eats another knee while Chainz moves him closer and closer to the corner.

Nick: Chainz utilizing a strength advantage in this Muay Thai stance. With it being so early in the match, Johnny isn't slippery enough to sneak away on command.

Richard: That's going to knock out a few of his yellow and black teeth.

Nick: Those knees aren't being pulled back either. Chainz is unloading with all of his might.

Chainz delivers the last in his series of painful strikes. A forearm finds the side of GBJ's head, sending him into the corner. Chainz lands a boot to the midsection and clutches Johnny's wrist. He swings around and makes Johnny believe he's going for another ride. At the last second, Chainz pulls back and looks for a short arm clothesline. Johnny has a knack for avoiding clotheslines, ducking underneath. Before Chainz can turn around, Johnny makes his move, grabbing the massive head of The Monster and planting his body into the canvas with an Electric Chair drop.

Nick: Johnny with one of his favorite moves. A sudden impact drop on the neck will stop almost any forward momentum.

Richard: And he appears to be taking advantage of it.

The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME pushes off Chainz's shoulders and mounts him, dropping hard left and right hands on the unprotected forehead of The Monster. Chainz doesn't like this position, and if Johnny keeps throwing punches of this caliber, the match will end shortly. Johnny drops a sixth right hand and relinquishes the pressure on Chainz upper body.

Nick: All it really takes are a few accurate strikes above the eyebrow and blood will easily come out. I'm sure Chainz has some scar tissue which hasn't gone away.

Richard: I think he's about to send Johnny back to the fourth dimension.

Chainz throws GBJ off like a paperweight, tangling The Dirtiest Dude of PRIME in the ropes. The Monster rises up to a standing position, but a persistent GBJ is one step ahead of his temporary adversary. Swinging around Chainz's body, GBJ locks in a snap front Chancery and drops Chainz on his head in a Wrap DDT.

Nick: This match is not going to be traditional. These guys aren't trying to pin each other, but rather make them bleed. Simply put, they are looking for openings to strike rather than pinfalls.

Richard: It would be much easier if they were allowed to go the Devin Shakur route and cut their wrists. That would be a cheap way to throw the match.

Nick: From what I understand, the cut has got to be significant and caused by the opponent. The referee won't be looking for small scrapes on the arm or leg, but on the head, back or chest.

GBJ clubs Chainz across the back and delivers a sideways left hand to the head. The Monster shoves GBJ away, leaving The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME to his own devices. He elects to sneak out of the ring and springboard onto the top rope. Once Chainz rises up, he turns around and finds two very disgusting feet right in his face, sending him backwards into the turnbuckle. Momentum plops Chainz into a seated position. GBJ bolts forward, throwing those same unwashed feet into Chainz's groin with a baseball slide dropkick. Chainz clutches his boys and rolls onto the floor.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: Do you really want to kick a man like Chainz in the balls?

Nick: Even if Johnny doesn't want to, that just signified the match is underway.

Richard: If by match you mean the biggest beatdown GBJ has ever received, then yes I agree.

An angry Chainz slams his hands off the ring apron and monitors the ring. Without hesitation, GBJ bounces off the ropes and leaps overhead, attempting a running flip splash onto the floor.

And gets caught in the iron tight grip of the Monster.

Richard: Somebody better call Mama Garbage Bag.

GBJ clubs vehemently to escape from the clutches, but gets little to no where in progress and slammed into the ring post back first for his efforts. Chainz doesn't relinquish, opting to back up and make GBJ suffer a second time. Chainz swings GBJ from a vertical position into a horizontal and launches him backwards into the barricade with a brutal fallaway slam.

Nick: Now we are going to see the brutality of Chainz on display. Johnny will have to bring his A game of amazing resilience and ability to take hordes of punishment if he wants to come out of this one.

Chainz slowly gets up to his feet, knowing very well that the match is in hand. He stalks over to GBJ and puts a boot into the side of his head. The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME is reeling, but not about to give up, clawing and scraping up to a vertical base. He throws a wild right. Chainz counters with a big forearm smash. The Monster goes for some head on head action, driving his skull into GBJ's and rocking the Dual Halo winner back into the steps.

Nick: Perhaps the most effective move executed in this entire contest. Chainz might have one of the hardest and thickest heads in PRIME. Even if that doesn't stop the match, GBJ is going to be in dire straits.

GBJ looks for an avenue of escape but only finds Chainz's massive hand on his chest in a nasty open hand chop.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

Chainz throws another chop and puts enormous pressure on GBJ, who is trapped trapped between the stairs and 295 pounds of pure evil.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

The Monster grabs GBJ by the ungroomed hair and flings him into the ring before sliding back in. GBJ pushes off the canvas and walks right into a big elbow on the top of his head. Chainz acquires wrist control on his opposition and shoots GBJ into the cables. On the comeback, Chainz extends his right foot into the air and lands The Chain Link. GBJ hits the canvas like a ton of bricks, trying to figure out exactly where he is at or where he would like to be.

Nick: Normally one wouldn't think of a superkick as a move that could bust somebody open. If you have a 295 pounder delivering that move, however, that usually changes.

Richard: I'm wondering if Hessian won't come out here eventually. I know he's got to compete against Tsonda in a few minutes, but I can't see someone like him sitting by idly and allowing this to go on.

Nick: Who he would help is probably a bigger question.

Chainz takes Johnny by the arm and yanks him up to a standing position. A right hand finds the forehead. GBJ looks for retaliation, but Chainz sticks his hand out and prevents the boot from reaching his midsection. The Monster then comes across the back, landing a clubbing blow to the neck. He pulls Johnny in close and wraps his big arm around the head before hoisting GBJ into the air and holding him in place.

Richard: Someone get a stopwatch and order a pizza, Chainz could keep him here all day if he wanted to.

GBJ is forced to let all the blood rush to his head for well over twenty seconds before Chainz falls backwards. The 2009 Dual Halo winner bounces off the canvas like a ping pong ball while The Monster gets up to his feet and smiles. He snaps a boot into the forehead and puts both hands into GBJ's hair, pulling him from the canvas and back into the corner. A forearm finds the chin. GBJ's legs turn in different directions while Chainz lands a headbutt. GBJ isn't busted open just yet, but Chainz is going to make sure that happens. He brings Johnny out of the corner and fires him into the ropes one more time. The Intense Title contender goes for a nose breaking boot, but GBJ catches the foot and holds Chainz in place. The Monster is off balance and at the mercy of GBJ, who extends his right fist out.

Nick: Uh oh.

Richard: Oh yeah, this is gonna be bad for Chainz.

GBJ: VAGINA PUNCH!

Chainz can't get his paws down to his package in time to block the blow and is sent down in a heap, running around in circles on his side. GBJ takes a moment to catch his breath, having been on the receiving end of a wealth of offense from The Monster. Tracy stands at ringside, cheering on her man and holding a slight bit of worry. She knows what GBJ is capable of when he is on his game and from the looks of things, he appears to be.

Nick: Johnny has got to take advantage right now and go for broke. If Chainz is allowed to get up again and back on the attack, it might be too late for another run.

Richard: I'm surprised neither of these guys have resorted to weapons.

Nick: It can't be far from their minds as a last resort.

The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME hops out of the ring and ascends the ropes, grabbing onto the top for support. Chainz grunts and groans his way up to a kneeling position. At the particular moment Chainz starts to rise, GBJ takes flight through the air and lands a top rope diving spinning wheel kick onto the exposed back. Chainz goes down face first while GBJ shoots up, off the ropes, and connects on the running flip splash he missed earlier.

Nick: Two big time moves one after the other. Johnny is gaining some momentum.

Tracy's cheers become that much more vocal. Chainz pushes himself up to one knee and feels 221 pounds across his neck. GBJ drives him face first into the canvas after jumping off the second rope. The bulldog has immediate ramifications for Chainz, moving him over to his back and giving GBJ an opportunity to sneak out of the ring and grab a steel chair from ringside.

Nick: This is what you talked about Richard, and Johnny is looking to end this one in a hurry.

Richard: Whatever he's got planned, he better do it and do it fast. He doesn't want Chainz getting a hold of that chair.

GBJ drops the chair in the corner and swings himself around, staying on top of his much bigger adversary. Johnny applies a front face lock and backs Chainz the short distance into the corner. A knee finds the forehead and GBJ steps up to the top rope, swinging himself around and putting Chainz head first into the canvas with a Tornado DDT. GBJ looks down at the chair and the body of Chainz, only inches apart.

Nick: Chainz saw the chair on the swing around and used all of his available strength to push away. He was able to do so ever so slightly.

After repositioning the chair, Johnny moves back over to the ropes and jumps up top, waiting on Chainz to join him in some fun.

Nick: But Johnny isn't going to stop, going back to the well.

Richard: He might have to pick the damn thing up and start swinging for the fences if this doesn't work.

Chainz pushes off the canvas and assesses the situation he's in. He looks left and doesn't find Johnny waiting on him. He looks to the right and doesn't feel Johnny's knee slam into the side of his head. He knows that nobody is behind him, so that must leave only one place.

The Monster notices the steel chair again and turns his body 180 degrees. GBJ doesn't have time to change his move. He's only able to switch legs and slip his right kneecap around the neck of Chainz, driving him face first into the canvas. Both wrestlers slam into the mat and the chair is kicked from the ring by Chainz. Johnny sighs, swears in German and French, and rolls out of the ring, limping over toward the chair and tosses it back into the ring.

Nick: Chainz landed directly on his head but he's not busted open. GBJ could have hurt himself there and ruined his chance for victory.

Richard: He needs to find his inner Babe Ruth and knock this shit out of the park.

Chainz is weary and GBJ isn't going to take his foot off the gas after coming this far. An elbow finds the back of Chainz's dome. The Monster doesn't drop back to the canvas, which gives GBJ all the more incentive to run off the ropes and put a knee into Chainz's face. When Chainz still doesn't go down, GBJ moves back, uses Chainz as a springboard, leaps to the top rope and goes for a moonsault.

The monster rises from the ashes and catches GBJ over one shoulder.

Nick: Uh oh!

Richard: GBJ is about to have a close encounter with death.

Chainz rushes from the corner, moving Johnny around on his shoulders like a play toy. The Monster gets the position he desires and slams all of his weight into GBJ's chest, violently bringing him to the mat with a spinebuster.

Nick: Chainz trademark spinebuster. Perhaps the hardest and most devastating drop in PRIME today.

Richard: I don't know about that, but it's certainly a move you don't want to take.

Tracy claps in approval and urges Chainz to finish the contest, pointing out where the chair is. The Monster, breathing heavy, gets up to his feet. It's time to up the game a level. Johnny somehow pushes up to his feet and stumbles into the corner. Chainz bulrushes across the ring and splashes all 295 pounds into GBJ's sternum, which expels the air from his lungs. Chainz grabs the wrist and slings GBJ into the ropes. The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME doesn't have enough time to prevent Chainz from lifting him off the canvas and down in an overhead T-Bone suplex.

Nick: If he doesn't have the most brutal slam in PRIME, we can both agree that his suplexes are the worst.

Richard: Most definitely. He doesn't just throw you over nonchalantly. Chainz makes sure he is right there with you and brings all of his weight down every time.

The 2009 Dual Halo winner, entire body aching from head to toe, pushes off and gets back to his feet. Chainz rushes off the ropes and catches GBJ around the throat with a massive lariat, sending him down another time. GBJ almost no sells the move, staggering up to his feet. Chainz launches off the ropes and connects on a second lariat. GBJ again gets up to his feet, brushing himself off and charges Chainz. The Monster sticks out a massive paw, encapsulating GBJ's throat. Swinging the Dual Halo winner around, Chainz slams GBJ into the canvas with a chokeslam. Refusing to give GBJ any time to rest, Chainz pulls GBJ up a second time and sends him crashing down into the canvas.

Nick: Two chokeslams in a row. Chainz has got to be thinking victory right here.

Richard: Does internal bleeding count because I'm willing to bet a yacht I don't own that GB is busted open on the inside.

Nick: The referee has to see blood in order to stop the match.

Richard: Just trying to look out for his health.

Putting a fist into the ground, Chainz rises from the canvas and takes a hold of the moppy hair style GBJ rocks. A knee finds his forehead and before GBJ knows it, he's stuck in between the powerful legs of Chainz. Tracy nudges the chair forward and puts it right under where Johnny's head is likely to end up.

Nick: Uh oh, Chain Reaction could be on the way. He's right under the chair and Bernie Roberts is on top of the action.

The Monster grasps the waist and pushes GBJ up onto his shoulders, locking the arms around his chest. Chainz goes for the first powerbomb, but GBJ captures him one more time and flips Chainz over with a hurricanrana. Neither man touches the chair and the match goes on.

Nick: Johnny reaching down deep into the bag of tricks for that one. He needed that in the worst way possible.

Richard: Both men struggling to their feet. Whoever gets there first is going to have a massive edge on the other guy.

Nick: Thanks for stealing my catchphrase you knob.

Richard: Always happy to help.

Chainz presses off the ropes and across the ring, showing that he still has power after all the punishment dished out. The Garbage Man rises up to a standing position, doubling over and looking at his opposition. GBJ has got to end this now while Chainz is on the defensive. He's already felt what its like to be on the receiving end of The Monster, and he's not particularly fond of said beatdown. The Halo winner steps between the ropes and grasps onto the top, waiting on his former partner to rise.

Nick: GBJ is set, Dumpster Dive on the way. Chainz's head slammed into the canvas on that hurricanrana and it knocked him for a minute. If a cut develops on his bald head, Roberts will stop the match before Chainz can blink.

Richard: The big man is playing possum. I know it. You know it. The audience knows it.

Chainz rolls over onto his stomach and pushes up with his hands. GBJ pulls the rope back and coils into position, ready to leap into action and bring home the victory. The Monster puts a hand into the canvas and gets to his feet. GBJ springboards to the top rope and extends his body horizontally, coming straight down from a deceptively high height at Chainz.

The New York native turns around right as GBJ drops onto his body with the beautiful Dumpster Dive.

Nick: DUMPSTER DIVE! Chainz IS GONNA FALL BACK ON THE CHA-

Richard: Uh oh.

Only he's found enough energy to catch GBJ in mid-air.

Nick: The strength of Chainz! How did he catch GBJ after he came in from that high?

Chainz swings Johnny around and plants him face first into the canvas with an inverted powerbomb. He pulls on the legs violently and swings GBJ up, wheelbarrow style, and plants him one more time into the steel chair.

Bernie Roberts turns GBJ over and sees the streaks of crimson flowing from his forehead.

DING! DING! DING!

Vince Howard: Your winner of the match...CHAINZ!

Nick: I'll be damned, Chainz was able to pull out yet another victory.

Richard: The man is damn near unstoppable. The hell with David Noble beating Douglas and Phoenix earlier tonight.

Nick: Six. Six victories in a row for Chainz. Now he can add a Dual Halo winner to his list of victims.

Richard: Jonathan Rhine and Noble need to watch out. I don't care what anybody says, if that man isn't dead by the time you want to go for a pinfall, you might as well not go for one. He'll rise again and stop you. He has to be the favorite going into Colossus.

Nick: I can't deny that. We haven't seen much of Rhine and Noble has been back and forth. If you take out the Rumble match, Chainz has gone undefeated since UltraViolence.

Richard: Lock it now, that is your new Intense champion once we leave Fenway.

While Johnny is on the canvas recovering, Chainz yanks his arm away from the official and goes over to The Dirtiest Dude in PRIME. He hovers overhead, looking down and shaking his head back and forth.

Nick: What have we got here? Chainz might not be through with GBJ yet.

Richard: Hessian might want to get his running shoes on, because he might have to break this one up.

Nick: Johnny didn't play favorites, hitting Chainz below the belt on two different occasions. That might not sit well with The Monster.

He kicks the chair away from Johnny, leaving no room for any surprises. The beast looks out into the crowd and methodically cracks his knuckles.

Richard: I hope Johnny has good health insurance.

The lights in GBJ's home come on and he looks up at the macabre Michael Sloan.

Chainz looks down and meets his eyes, the sick smile still on his face.

Johnny looks around, unsure of his fate.

Nick: And Johnny has just recognized that he might not be leaving here under his own power-

But then a smile forms on his face. Chainz reaches down and extends his hand forward. Johnny accepts and The Monster pulls his adversary up to a standing position, patting him on the shoulder and raising his hand into the air.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Awww come on!

Richard: Woo-ha! I knew Chainz wasn't going to do it.

Nick: Well, that pretty much settles the dispute. Chainz is not going to side with PRIME in this endeavor. He's opting for Johnny's crew.

Richard: And considering the run he is on, that can only mean bad things for anybody who decides to cross GBJ.

Fade to the back.

Backstage... meet Hessian.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Oh, you're already acquainted.

The Murder Show is preparing for his big main event match with Chandler Tsonda in a few minutes. And by "preparing," we mean, "he's punching himself in the face repeatedly as he prowls the backstage area". Yes, you read that right. Yes, he's punching himself in the face to prepare for a match. We didn't say he was the picture of sanity people – keep up.

It's times like this that you realize exactly how big the Construction of Destruction really is – seven-foot-two and three hundred fifty-five pounds doesn't come around these parts very often, and he's the largest athlete in any of the PrimeTime Central federations for a reason.

"Good evening, Mr. Von Kelsig."

And that... wasn't his voice. Pan down – no, further than that. We're going to probably have to zoom out a little to keep up here. The woman at the end of the hall in the white pantsuit, hair only tied back in theory, rather than in practice, is only five-nine, so we're talking about a seventeen-inch height advantage. We'd talk about weight, but she's a lady and she can probably kill us with her mind. Her name, in case you just crawled out of a whole and joined our broadcast already in progress, is Alexandra Pierce. But you can call her...

Desade: I had hoped for an occasion to meet you this evening before your match with whichever of the puffed-up primadonnas it is you are scheduled against.

But it's not just the height difference that's a problem here. These two are scheduled to meet the Elite Champion – whomever he may be – in Fenway Park in just a couple of weeks.

Hessian: (Getting in a final smack to the temple) I knew it was only a matter of time before someone showed up to pester me about this Elite match.

Desade: I believe you will find that "pestering" is the least I do, Von Kelsig. My predilections are a good deal more controversial than mere "pesterings."

It's not that she smiles – that would involve a creasing of those lips that would seem somewhat out-of-place on the all-business-all-the-time Spider in the Web. It's more that she seems to be relishing the opportunity.

Desade: And forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is—

Hessian: Yeah, I know who you are.

Desade: Ah. Then might I suggest the easiest way to avoiding being bothered in reference to our bout would be to simply not take the match. Jared or Wyatt and I can solve our own personal differences, even if we must do so here. And you can go back to... whatever it is you would rather be doing.

The Murder Show regards the foreign invader. There are a fair few beasties running amok in the undergrowth of PRIME's backstage area, but for a unique specimen like Desade to show up unannounced is like striking oil. The goliath works the kinks out of his neck, emphasizing the cracking of the tendons and maintaining the Killer Giant demeanour.

Hessian: You came all the way to ReVolution to talk me out of it? Are they really that nervous over at Primetime Central that they sent you to change my mind? What kind of crap is that?

Her only immediate response is a soft chuckle, more of a rasp than a laugh.

Desade: Mr. Von Kelsig, I believe you have me mistaken for someone else. My reasons for suggesting you abandon your pursuit of the Elite Championship was not because I wish to talk you out of it. I was merely... making small-talk, I believe is the phrase. It is not my forte, I know, but I spend so much time in Sin City having to squint my eyes and mutter deprecations that I thought it wise to try a different approach.

She steps forward – one of few women who would so brazenly approach the monster – extending a hand.

Desade: And I do not represent Primetime Central. I will be standing across from you at Colossus. A right I earned with far more than folding my arms and being oversized, as I believe you witnessed.

This time Hessian takes a step forward so that Desade has to tilt her head back to keep a lock on his gaze. Struggling to hold back a sneer he holds his arms out at his side and looms over the little miss.

Hessian: Did you ever stop to think why they might give away a contender spot to me while the rest of the wannabes were made to fight for it? Every time that old broken record plays I hear someone spouting off on my size or intimidation and bragging about their destiny and toppling the goliath. Every time I see another 'W' against my record, so play it again Sam.

Pierce's smile curls, just barely but it's there, as she narrows her eyes.

Desade: Oh, I am not concerned about destiny or toppling the goliath or that I will not back down. (She chuckles again, a sound that would make lesser men's skin crawl.) If Wyatt puts Jared Sykes down like the overactive, sugared-up sprite I know him to be, I will not even be the smallest person in our match.

She actually steps back a step, not in fear, but to right the angle of her stare.

Desade: You must understand that I am not Lindsay Troy, plucky underdog with a heart of gold and more wrestling talent than I know what to do with. I am going to go into Colossus well aware that I am undersized, underpowered, and underestimated. And I am going to do the same thing that I do every week.

Her hands (ungloved, which is commonplace now in Sin City, but this is the first time she has appeared in PRIME since the change) fold at her waist.

Desade: I will come with a gameplan to cut you down to size, no matter what it takes or how low I might have to stoop. I have been in Sin City for a year and a half, Mr. Von Kelsig. And I have yet to be pinned or made to submit by anyone in her walls.

There's a measure of pride in her voice when she speaks of the sins she has racked up in SCCW – and there are a number of them.

Desade: For six months, I played two roles, one in a ridiculous pink wig and plastic mask, waiting for my opportunity to pounce – and I drove a man named Jonathan from my federation and to yours. I believe you might be acquainted? If you do not think I will come to Boston with every trick you have ever seen and several you could not imagine, then ask him. Ask Lindsay. Ask this entire bloody federation what I am capable of.

Hessian unleashes a guttural bellow at the mention of "this entire bloody federation", and as quickly as he erupted with laughter he returns a sinister stoicism to his face.

Hessian: Were you capable of winning the PTC Global Title?

Desade: There was no Global Championship when I came to this place, Von Kelsig.

She bounces back and forth in using the honorific, her irritation mounting.

Desade: I am not here to compare penis sizes. Merely to inform you that I care very little about your size or your power. I have been thrown around by strong men for a year and it has never once broken me. I felt it my duty to exchange pleasantries and to be certain you are fully aware of the situation you have been faced with. Do not expect a cakewalk, a scared little girl, or a valiant attempt to overcome your size. And in return, I will expect more than a thick-headed, mentally deficient psychopath.

The smile cools in a moment, as if it was plunged into ice water.

Desade: I am not your enemy, Mr. Von Kelsig. Merely your opponent. Toe that line all you wish, but when I have "screwed" (The quote marks are audible.) you out of a fair shake at Colossus, rest assured: it is not personal.

The quiet grandeur in Hessian's poise slackens, a sigh escaping his throat as he takes a step back and folds his arms once more.

Hessian: To be fair, I'd be more inclined to show some respect if you could throw some stats my way instead of enunciating and pronouncing yourself into a delusional stupor. Your efforts in the ring over at SCCW might impress the stalagmites but in PRIME that kind of thing is run of the mill. I've conquered entire companies, I've beaten the best PTC has to offer and it's a well known fact that you don't fuck with the Murder Show. Now I appreciate you coming down here for the chinwag and everything but do yourself a favour and loosen up. From the sound of it this is the biggest match of your career, and the last thing you want to do is have Connors down for the 1...2......ohhh there's Hessian with the break. Do you honestly believe you can shut me down and tame the PTC Elite Champion in the same ring? I know I can.

Pierce chuckled dryly, again. It was becoming a recurring theme, as her rictus-grin latched hold of her skull like some kind of barnacle.

Desade: I am well-aware of what happens in PRIME. Like six of my fellows, I came to PRIME – to the same city you and I will face off – and we left that city with PRIME's blood on our hands. Only Kaiser Vashaun survived with a victory – not Shakur, not Rayne, not Troy, not Kannon, not Flyer or Nova or Tsonda or a single PRIME wrestler left that building without first staring up at the lights. In the pink mask, I won the Infinite Gauntlet. There is another woman in a pink mask holding that very title now, but that is of course not myself. I have held two separate championships in Sin City, and just three nights from now, I will climb into the ring with the best the federation have to offer, perhaps to claim the Universal Title for myself.

Pierce dropped her head briefly, her smile stretching into something otherworldly as she stepped backward.

Desade: But you choose to think of me however you wish, Hessian.

She says his ring name like it's a curse.

Desade: Whether it is Connors or Sykes in that ring with us, I promise you will never look at me as beneath your notice again. I have kept you for too long, however. By all means, go hit Mr. Tsonda several times in the face for me. Tell him Amy and Alex said "Hello."

The Murder Show finally puts up a big smile across his Beard of Doom and claps his hands.



Hessian: Alright. NOW we've got an Elite Title Match! Put 'er there!



The Murder Show extends a hand, waiting for reciprocation. Pierce takes it gently, her own hand dwarfed by the behemoth's bear-like paw. With a free hand, she tosses the stubborn curls from her face.

Desade: This is where you squeeze it to see if I submit, I take it.

In contrast to their rather animated discussion, Alex's humor – a genuine thing – warms the words up.

Hessian: No, this is the first step towards a new Elite Champion.

His words are stern and hard and true. He wraps his other hand over Pierce's and squeezes, if only to humour her.

Hessian: Best of luck, you're going to need it.

The Spider chuckles – and this time, it's in actual good humor.

Desade: I look forward to hearing Nick Stuart scream about the injustice of it all, much as David Gibson does. Have a pleasant evening, Von Kelsig. Ms. Tyler has arranged for my associates and I to have premium seating, and I wish you all the luck, for tonight at least.

Chandler Tsonda's deep in the zone. Before a match of this magnitude, it would be crazy not to prepare (although the Model Citizen is already a bit neurotic about his pre-match preparations). Hessian is the same man who put Tsonda out of commission as a preface to Jason Snow's win at Culture Shock, the same man who screwed with his rematch at UltraViolence, and the same man who has only been beaten once in one-on-one action.

The picture you're seeing now is merely the calm before the storm.

That picture is of Tsonda, seated in his locker room. Wrists taped, eyes closed, arms folded across his chest. Not known for his zen-like patience, the Model Citizen is certainly in a happy place.

"Me 'n you've got some fuckin' words ta have, cunt."

Only one man with a mouth that filthy in PRIME, and Tsonda knows who it is without having to open his eyes.

Chandler Tsonda: My ninja senses detect a drop in the room's overall hygiene.

The camera rotates ninety degrees to the side, offering up a profile look at Wade Elliott. His features are as menacing as they've ever looked, his mouth curled up in a nasty half-sneer.

Wade Elliott: I'm done havin' slap fights. Gimme my match at Colossus.

Chandler Tsonda: I'm not giving you anything, Country. Babysitting you cost me my shot at the Universal Title at ReV 200.

Wade Elliott: Yer movin' those pussy lips o' yours, but I'm not hearin' anythin' I like, priss.

Chandler Tsonda: Perhaps it's your defective southern DNA.

The Blue-Collar Brawler cracks his knuckles loudly, a warning shot, a notice that he won't be ignored. Tsonda stays in his seated position, eyes still closed as he tries to filter out this particular distraction.

Wade Elliott: What's t'stop me from puttin' a boot up yer ass right now? Other'n the fact that ya might enjoy it.

Chandler Tsonda: You found me out. I'm part of the rapidly growing Footwear-In-Ass fetish group.

Wade Elliott: I'm losin' my goddamn patience listenin' to yer prattlin' on. You got an answer fer me? One that I wanna hear?

Chandler Tsonda: Did you ask me a question? In the episode I was watching, you walked in here and demanded a match that I've said since day motherfuckin' numero uno was above you.

WHAM!

The 'Bama Brawler slams his hand into the room's wooden shelving, making a loud sound that would have a less zen-like man jumping out of his seat. But Tsonda remains sitting with eyes closed, which seems to be getting under Wade's skin even more.

Chandler Tsonda: Can't you just go ask Lisa Tyler to take a break from her Raging Bitch Crusade to sign the match?

Wade glares at Tsonda in return, a silent anger simmering in the Drifter's veins.

Chandler Tsonda: Oh, that's right, my PRIME contract stipulates that I can't be placed in a Pay-Per-View match without my consent. Is that what's got your goat, Wade?

Wade Elliott: I'll rip yer fuckin' gizzard out in the hotel lobby. You think ol' Wade's waiting for a sanctioned match on yer fuckin' say-so?

Chandler Tsonda: Wade, we're both reasonable...okay, well, I'm a reasonable human being, and you're close enough to one. You ask me politely for the match at Colossus, and not only will I give it to you, but I'll let you name the stipulation.

Wade Elliott: Fuck yerself.

Finally, the Model Citizen opens his eyes, staring right at the Bad Dog. The tension is thicker than Rosie O'Donnell's thighs as the two men's gazes finally meet.

Chandler Tsonda: I guess Troy was right. You're just a big coward.

There's nothing but the same silent, deadly glare from Wade. However, these words hit closer to home, referencing the woman who was once Elliott's closest ally (besides Angus). Perhaps it's a low blow by Tsonda, but in this showdown, all's been deemed fair.

Chandler Tsonda: You gonna ask me nicely?

Wade Elliott: I'm gonna knock yer fuckin' head off yer shoulders if y-

Chandler Tsonda: Fine, you've got your match, ya pest.

The Blue-Collar Brawler doesn't "do" emotion, but there's a recognition in his eyes that he's got what he wants, that Tsonda has bent, slightly, to his will. But don't you dare call it happiness, on Wade's part. Oh, hell no.

Wade Elliott: We been runnin' around for goin'-on-goddamn months and now all of a sudden, yer happy as a fuckin' clam to have this match?

Chandler Tsonda: It's time someone euthanized the delusion that you're in the same league as me, Wade. Might as well make a million-dollar Pay-Per-View bonus while I'm at it.

Wade Elliott: 'Bout time you sacked up.

Chandler Tsonda: Whatever you say, Country. Since I've been so obliging, you mind taking Wade's Travelling Roadshow of Mongrel Tongues & Obscure Swear Words down the road?

Wade Elliott: You got less than two weeks left on yer goddamn imaginary throne, Tsonda.

The Blue-Collar Brawler spits on the ground of Tsonda's locker room as he turns to leave, making sure to slam the door on his way out. The moment for an expected quip from the Model Citizen passes, and instead of a pithy one-liner, he merely shakes his head, closes his eyes, and returns to the happy place.

The scene isn’t pretty. The Greediest Player in the Game, fresh off of being embarrassed by Killean Sirrajin, stalks around his ‘office’ like a caged tiger. His chest heaves in and out beneath the now untucked white button-up dress shirt, which has a few buttons that have mysteriously disappeared. The tie that used to set neatly around his neck is now askew, pulled loose and off to the side. The suit jacket that he wore, then took off so brashly, now sits in a crumpled wad in the corner of the empty multi-purpose room. If there was a desk, he would definitely kick it.

Tyler: That BITCH! How dare she humiliate me like that? And Sirrajin? Ooooh…wait until I a hold of him at Colossus. He’s going to rue the day that he ever laid his greasy, slimy, Neanderthal hands on Tyler Nelson.

Mr. Simmons, who up to this point was content to just stand off to the side and watch, decides it’s time to speak up.

Simmons: Now, boss…you need to calm down a bit. Stop pacing around, take a few deep breaths, and just relax.

Nelson frowns at his head of security at first, then reluctantly stops moving. He closes his eyes and rolls his head around while shaking his arms and legs, trying to release the built up tension inside of him. Finally after a few moments he stops fidgeting and takes several exaggerated deep breaths. The room is quiet, save only for the King of Greed inhaling and exhaling. It seems to be working. His shoulders slouch a bit, his breathing regulates, and his face looks calm.

Mr. Simmons: See, isn’t that better?

The slight beginnings of a smile begin to sneak across the lips of the King of Greed when the silence is interrupted by music blasting from outside the room. Nelson startles, eyes wide and mouth agape, as "Shorty the Pimp" by Too $hort rattles his eardrums.

Standin on the corner, in a white godfather hat
He drives a long black gangsta cadillac
He can steal broads nine man, three or fo' minutes
It's not how long you talk bruh, it's what you put in it

Tyler: What in God’s name is that?

All Mr. Simmons can do is shrug as he heads for the door to find out. Just before he reaches the doorway, two midget luchadores, dressed in orange and green, come flying into the room. They jump and spin around, a bundle of energy. Nelson just watches on in horror as the two wee-men perform some sort of twisted circus act of lucha moves on each other. Simmons starts, then stops, then starts again to try and wrangle the two midgets up. As he chases them around…

Look out! for shorty the pimp!
Yeah
He walks with a limp!
Cool man
Shorty the pimp *echoes*

In comes Tony "The Grin" Gamble, strutting his stuff in a ridiculous looking silver sequined pimp suit. Following close behind are the two Oompa Loompa’s, carrying a massive boom box between the two of them. Tony smiles, as he always does, and takes a sip from the bejeweled gold pimp cup in his hand. The King of Greed, looks flabbergasted by the bizarre parade that just entered his ‘office’.

Tyler: Shut that Goddamn radio off!

Gamble motions toward the Oompas. Burgundy presses the power button, ceasing the noise. The two Oompas set the massive radio down on the floor. Nelson looks at ‘The Grin’.

Tyler: Now what the hell do you want?

Tony: Come on now, Mr. Boss Man! I just came in to see how my favorite owner of all time was doing after that brutal sneak attack a little while ago. That Killean is a dirty, sneaky, no-good son of a gun.

Nelson becomes a little less defensive after hearing Gamble’s opening comments. Meanwhile in the background, Simmons is still chasing the two midget lucha’s around like greased pigs.

Tyler: Yes…yes, he is.

Tony: I would have come out there and helped you, but I had to see a man about a horse.

Tyler: I’m sure.

Tony looks around the room, nodding his head as his bottom lip juts out a bit over his top lip.

Tony: Nice place you got here. I use to roll in exquisite suites like this, but I’m more of a nomad now, wandering around letting life take me down the road of…life.

Tony chuckles nervously, as he realizes that what he just said made absolutely no sense. Not to mention it was a complete and utter lie. Snickers and chuckles can be heard from the Oompas, but a quick glance from Tony puts an end to it. Simmons finally gets a hold of the Baby Carrot, but a quick kick to the shin by Gerkin makes him release his hold.

Tony: One hell of a security team you got there, boss man.

Tyler: Well, WalMart had them on special. I got a free George Foreman grill and a Zune with the purchase. Unfortunately, he is the only one still working. Somewhat.

Tony nods.

Tony: So, I was sitting there talking to that man about that horse a little while ago, and it suddenly hit me like a splash of water on your cheeks.

Another fit of laughter from the Oompas gets no reaction from Gamble as he continues.

Tony: You don’t have a marketable star! I mean, we both know it is only a matter of time before that bitch gets hers and you’re running shit like Slim Thug, and when that happens you’re going to need someone like me to steer this ship in the right direction. I already have my own crew and everything.

Tony motions toward the Oompas and Tossed Salad; the former still giving Simmons a hard time, as they run between his legs just as he is ready to grab one of them.

Tyler: Well, it is something to consider.

Tony: Awesome. Look, I need to jet. Can’t stay in one place for too long without feeling locked down like my homies in the pen, but I’ll have my people cal your people and we’ll do lunch.

Gamble limps over and gives Nelson dap, which the Greediest Player in the Game returns awkwardly as most white folkds do, before waving his crew down.

Tony: Let’s roll, home skillets!

The music pumps again and the travelling circus takes it’s leave. Nelson and Simmons can only look at each other, wondering what in the hell just happened.

Nick: It’s been a great show so far with some big matches. Only the main event is left.

Richard: I can’t believe Lisa Tyler is punishing Hessian and Chainz the way she is.

Nick: They’re supporting GCW Richard.

Richard: Yeah, but they’re also the two best destructive forces on the roster. I don’t really think her threats and punishments are going to work.

Nick: Well, we’ll see later tonight when Hessian takes on Chandler Tsonda, but until then I…

Flashing lights fill the arena as the house lights dim. Then a few notes are heard over the sound system until Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolf is heard in the arena. The fans rise to their feet as on the PRIME*Tron it reads one thing.

David. Noble

I see your dirty face
Hide behind your collar
What is done in vain
Truth is hard to swallow

David Noble emerges from the back with a scowl on his face and a microphone in hand.

Richard: What’s he doing out here?

Nick: I think we’re about to find out.

David Noble slides into the ring and waits for his music to die down.

David Noble: I know you’re all wondering what I’m doing out here.

He gets a pop from the inquisitive audience who are confused as Noble was not meant to be out in the ring.

David Noble: If you watched Revolution 200 you’ll know exactly why I’m out here. Last week I put down a challenge and Chainz accepted it.

The crowd boos vehemently at the mention of Chainz’s name.

David Noble: Yeah, I know, I hate his guts too. That’s why I’m out here. Chainz, I know we’ve got a match at Colossus VI with Rhine for the Intense title, but I can’t wait that long. Week in and week out I’ve been sitting in the back watching you parade out here and bringing down PRIME. You’re a sick bastard who shouldn’t even be allowed to step foot in the ring and now you’ve sided with GBJ and GCW? I was just going to kick your ass for the things you’ve done to me, but now I’m kicking your ass for all the PRIME fans who hate you just as much as I do. In two weeks at Colossus VI I’m going to prove once again that your methods don’t work and I’m walking out with the title.

The crowd cheers once again anticipating the huge match that’s going to take place at Colossus VI.

David Noble: So I figured I’d give this audience a sneak preview.

The crowd cheers again at the unexpected news. They’d just witnessed Chainz and GBJ do battle, but seeing Chainz get his was something they couldn’t wait to see.

David Noble: So come on Chainz, get your ass out here.

David Noble motions for Chainz to come out from the back, but his music never hits and nothing happens. David smiles a bit as he brings the microphone to his lips once more.

David Noble: For all that talk you sure aren’t very brave. Maybe I should…

Chainz: Hey David, how’s it hanging out there?

Chainz’s smiling face appears on the giant PRIME*Tron. He’s in the backstage area standing in front of a wall.

Chainz: You know, I’d love to come out there and beat your ass, but I’ve already made one appearance tonight and these fans don’t deserve to see me again.

David shakes his head in frustration.

David Noble: Whatever it takes to convince yourself Chainz.

Chainz: Oh come now, don’t pout. All in due time. We’ll have our fun soon enough, but you know I was sitting back and thinking about our little relationship and I thought that maybe we should take it to another level.

David Noble frowns at that statement; it has nothing but bad intentions behind it.

David Noble: What are you talking about now?

Chainz motions for the camera to follow him. He talks as he walks.

Chainz: Well like I said, we’ve been going back and forth for a while now and it’s just felt so impersonal. See, I like to get to know my opponents and I like to find a way to get into their lives. I mean, what’s a match between two random people? Nothing, but a match between close friends is unforgettable.

Chainz turns a few corners and stops.

Chainz: And what do friends do? They share. Look where I am now.

Chainz motions for the camera to focus on the door which shows David Noble’s name on it. David Noble’s eyes fill with fear and rage.

Chainz: I saw you bring your sister in earlier. I heard she’s been dying to come with you to a PRIME show and see what you do and who you work with. So I thought, us being such good friends, that maybe I should introduce myself. What’s her name again, Sarah I think? I don’t know if I ever mentioned, but I just love high school kids, they’re eager to learn so much and I have so much to teach her.

David Noble drops the microphone and runs out of the ring and towards the back. The audience has fallen silent at the prospect of what Chainz might do. They know he’s capable of just about everything. David Noble emerges in the back and sprints towards his locker room. As he approaches Chainz is nowhere to be seen. Fearing the worst he bursts through the door.

David Noble: Sarah! Sarah!

His sister stands up suddenly from her chair, dropping her book in the process. David runs over and hugs his sister, holding her tight.

Sarah: What’s the matter David?

David Noble: Come on, we’re leaving.

David turns to lead his sister out of the room and notices a note on the ground. He picks it up and reads it aloud.

David Noble: Love ‘em young.

He crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash as he leads his sister out of the arena.

Nick: I'm being told through headset that the contract signing featuring Devin Shakur and Bryan Dawkins is scheduled to happen right now.

Richard: Great, maybe Shakur has called the cops on Dawkins and will arrest him.

Nick: If you are tuning in late, Bryan Dawkins informed Hartford police about the whereabouts of Christian Daniels, who got into a bar fight earlier in the day. They arrested him before The Biker could get in the building.

Richard: Such a travesty. You wait Dawkins, when Shakur's legal team gets here you are going to be sorry for becoming a snitch.

Nick: We haven't seen Shakur since. Word around the back is that he's been held up in his room, screaming periodically and tearing the locker room apart.

Richard: I hope Shakur brings the Immigration guy back. Dawkins needs to find out what true suffering is like.

"WOOHOO!"

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: Speak of the prick and he enters.

"Song 2" by Blur.

The PRIME*View comes to life with the theme, accompanied by pyrotechnics, orange and aqua lighting, and the video package of "The Flyin’ Hawaiian" Bryan Dawkins. Dawkins strolls out of the back to an ovation from some of the crowd, to which he replies with the Hawaiian "hang loose" hand gesture, before jogging down towards the ring. He slaps hands with the ringside fans and has a smile on his face, mugging for the camera by throwing the hang loose gesture again.

Richard: So proud of himself.

Nick: Considering the massive prank Shakur pulled last week, Dawkins has evened the playing field tonight. He's produced results by doing considerably less and letting the brothers hang themselves.

Richard: Dawkins will wish he did that before Colossus.

The Bruh plays to the crowd before sliding into the ring. The plain blue mat has been replaced with red carpet and a black table with an office chair on each side occupies the center of the ring. Dawkins avoids the table each time, jumping up to each turnbuckle to give the crowd his signature "hang loose" hand gesture.

He looks over to Matt Mills and gives him a "Sup bro" head nod.

Once Song 2 fades away, Dawkins strolls over to the large table and seats himself, pushing the chair forward and folding his arms across the table. He fiddles with the pen while the crowd prepares themselves for the arrival of The Man in Black.

GOD SAID THAT A MAN SHOULD WORK WITH HIS HANDS!

The infamous words spoken to Tyler Rayne moments before he was decimated in the Dual Halo resonate throughout the building. The source of said voice sends white hot heat through the crowd.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

All the lights shut off. Pitch black. Sporadic lighters pop up throughout the crowd, but the rage of enthusiastic PRIME fans only intensifies as Peter Frampton slowly glides his fingers over an acoustic guitar in the fashion of Chris Cornell. This man doesn't have many fans anywhere he goes.

A cascading wave of black pyrotechnics sends smoke out into the people and a pair of dark brown eyes invade the PRIME*View.

The curtain is thrown open and out steps Devin Shakur. He's looking worse for wear, jet black hair in about seventeen different directions. His blinking is still awkward. One can imagine he tried every ploy in the book to get out of facing The Bruh and Hartford fanatics. With his face still twitching ever so slightly, Shakur's eyes dart back and forth, looking at each individual person in the first few rows while coming down the aisle.

He doesn't know which of them might come over the barricade and try to get a piece of him, but he's ready. Strategically, Shakur reaches up and quickly wipes away a patch of sweat forming on his brow.

Richard: Look at him, Nick. He's stressed out. Dawkins had no right to rat Daniels out like that.

Nick: I would call this fair play, Richard. Shakur is known as the master of mind games. He's the bully that loves to manipulate everybody and now he's having the tables turned.

Dawkins slides his chair back and kicks his feet up, knocking Shakur's pen off the table. Methodically, and extremely paranoid, The Man in Black continues to walk the aisle, his head swinging around whenever a fan makes a snide comment. He doesn't go over toward the ring stairs and taunt the fans while making a slow entrance. Instead, he rolls underneath the bottom rope and picks up his blue pen from the carpet. When he goes to situate himself, his head smacks the edge of the table, leaving him embarrassed and giving Dawkins another good laugh. Shakur snarls at the crowd and plops down into the chair.

Matt Mills: Alright, ladies and gentlemen, coming up on Colossus weekend, we are going to be treated to a heated rivalry coming to a fiery conclusion. The Grudge Match as it has been called will feature The Flyin' Hawaiian, Bryan Dawkins-

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Matt Mills: -Taking on The Man in Black, Devin Shakur-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Matt Mills: In a cell match. No doors. No escape. The only way to win is by pinfall or submission. Now, if we can get through this contract signing without interruption like last time, then the matter will be done with and you two don't have to see each other until the match. Mr. Dawkins, if I can get your name on the contract first.

The Bruh reaches forward and takes the contract from the table, pulling it close to him and signing his autograph onto the last page of the paper. Dawkins slides the contract over to Shakur.

The Man in Black takes a brief look at the contract to see where his name is supposed to go and moves his eyes up to Dawkins. This is truly a role reversal from many ReVolutions past. Dawkins had an army of clones come out and he didn't get to Shakur. He was able to beat The Man in Black up and surprise him with a return, but neither of those events got to Shakur like tonight has. He hasn't been so lost on a ReVolution since losing the Universal Championship last year to Chandler Tsonda.

Dawkins keeps his Tony Gamble-esque smirk on his face while Shakur puts pen to paper and inks his name onto the contract. Mills walks over, slipping his hand on the edge of the table and gliding under, not wanting to get in the way of the staredown between these two.

Matt Mills: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is official. Devin Shakur and Bryan Dawkins will go one on one at Colossus. Good luck to both participants.

Just as Mills is getting ready to exit the squared circle, Dawkins extends his hand out and asks for the microphone. Mills lobs him an alley hoop, which Dawkins catches. The interviewer makes his way up the ramp while Dawkins holds the mic up to his lips.

Bryan Dawkins: You know something, bruh, I find it kinda ironic that for all the times you come out and try to make everybody else suffer, the one time someone takes even the slightest thing away from you, ya start whining and begging for your bottle.

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The Flyin Hawaiian pushes back in his chair and gets up to a vertical base, which causes Shakur to do the very same thing. Shakur paces back and forth in the small amount of space available to him.

Bryan Dawkins: But, I can see this is upsettin' ya pretty bad so I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, bruh. Since I'm a nice guy and all, I'm goin to let you in on a little secret.

Shakur's pacing stops, his fists tighten and he focuses squarely on Dawkins.

Bryan Dawkins: We all know Daniels really got in a bar fight earlier today...But, the guy isn't exactly as injured as the cops made him believe.

Richard: ...What?

Nick: Uh-oh.

Bryan Dawkins: In fact, the people that arrested him...They aren't even real cops. They are just some of my boys from back in Hilo.

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: I friggin knew it!

Shakur is on the verge of snapping.

Bryan Dawkins: Your lover – I mean brother, isn't really arrested. Yeah, you saw him leave the parking lot, but he didn't really go down to a police station.

Nick: Shakur got played!

Richard: He's going to beat that little foreigner dead.

Shakur stalks forward, forcing Dawkins to back up with a hand in front of him.

Bryan Dawkins: Hold on a minute, bruh. I know you want to see your big Hells Angel, and you can. He's round front in the general parking area.

Shakur looks over at a nearby exit, but quickly swings himself around and continues to pursue Dawkins.

Bryan Dawkins: If ya don't believe me, bruh, check out the PRIME*View right behind you.

"THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Shakur hears the voice of Daniels and turns himself completely around, staring up at the PRIME*View. The device shows The Biker stuck in the back of a police car, vehemently kicking at the window in order to escape.

On all sides of the car are a heap of fans laughing at The Biker's misfortune. Since they know he can't break from the vehicle, they taunt him in every possible way. They throw eggs at the windows. Moon him. Flip him the bird. Tell jokes. Daniels has to sit there and take it, looking for any avenue of escape.

Shakur is frozen looking at his older brother. Dawkins, meanwhile, has hopped on over behind the table and picked up a metal folding chair.

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Bryan Dawkins: [whistles] Bruh...

The picture fades away and Shakur turns around. Dawkins is waiting for him.

CRACK

BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Shakur falls straight back and smacks the canvas while Dawkins spikes the chair into the red carpet. The Bruh goes over to the table and picks up his microphone and puts a foot on Shakur's chest.

Bryan Dawkins: Yeah, bruh, I'm ready to play. See you at Colossus.

"Song 2" kicks up again while the picture of Christian Daniels being prodded by fans is shown for the enjoyment of the inside audience. The Bruh hops over the top rope and lands safely on the floor, reaching out and slapping five with a lot of the fans. Dawkins celebrates all the way up the aisle and through the curtain.

Shakur lays in the center of the ring looking up at the lights and trying to look over his shoulder at the PRIME*View.

Nick: Score one for Dawkins, bruh.

Richard: What a sorry excuse for a wrestler.

Nick: Dawkins got one over on The Man in Black and played a little mind game of his own. He proved that he can be just as psychological as Shakur.

Richard: He better have a lot of support in Fenway because he's going to need every last bit of it to get through the beast that will awaken from this. Shakur is gonna make Dawkins his bitch.

Nick: Tonight, Dawkins gained some much needed momentum. He didn't let the Rayne Game get him down. Instead, he opted to fight fire with fire and was more than successful.

As Bernie Roberts stands in the ring, checking the ropes and turnbuckles, the familiar voice of Nick Stuart can be heard.

Nick: Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a special treat for you coming up next. A fed versus fed ‘standard bearer’ match …

Richard: I see what you did there, flag-on-a-pole / standard-bearer. Pretty witty.

Nick: Thanks.

Richard: I will be interested to see who …

Richard falters to a stop as, as one, the crowd leaps to their feet and start to cheer. His chest swells with pride before he realizes that every single eye is looking away from him and towards the entrance ramp and the figure moving, with a fixed stare, towards ringside.

Jay Phoenix.

Nick: Not who you were expecting?

Richard: Nope.

Still dressed in his ring attire from earlier in the night, hair sweat soaked and matted to his head, Phoenix walks around the ring, grabbing a microphone from the announce desk as he passes, and then climbs the steps to the ring. As he makes his way through the ropes his entrance music begins to play.

Phoenix: Great timing, genius, now why don’t you see if you can find the ‘off button’ for that and give me some peace and quiet?

Nick: This isn’t the Phoenix we have come to know.

Richard: Unless he is out here to resign – again – then that would be pretty normal.

Nick: I don’t mean that, I mean his tone of voice and the fact that he looks a little … dishevelled.

Richard: Understatement – he hasn’t showered since his match even, I can smell him from here.

As Phoenix’s music cuts of before it can really begin he stands there, in the middle of the ring, and turns a small circle in place as Bernie Roberts glances at the announcers, shrugging his shoulders in confusion.

Phoenix: I know that I wasn’t meant to be out here, right now, and you are all waiting on the oh so important pissing contest that is meant to be between GCW and PRIME, so I will try not to keep you back too long … but I have something to say.

Richard: Told ya – resignation number 320 coming up!

Nick: Quite Richard, this REALLY isn’t like Jay.

Phoenix: I was sitting back there, in my empty dressing room, trying to figure out just how long this has been going on – just how many times I am going to keep on repeating my own personal, PRIME controlled Groundhog Day?

Richard: I preferred Ghostbusters but Murray was ok in that too, I suppose.

Phoenix: Another meaningless match and another meaningless loss. How many nights, how many weeks, do I have to face the same old same old of facing people in this ring that I have no desire to face – and no benefit other than selling tickets and merchandise, and giving the powers that be an easy night in the office, of course?

Nick: What?

Phoenix: Seems to me that whenever they are having a brain fart, and don’t know what to do, they simply put some names in a hat and decide who I am going to be facing … sure, they think to themselves, ‘That Jay, he’s a nice guy, he will do whatever we say’ … usually they are right. Usually I just smile, nod my head and do my job.

Richard: … well he is definitely good at ‘doing the job’ alright.

Phoenix: And more often than not someone else decides to get involved, making a meaningless match mean even less. Since I started here in PRIME I have been pushed around, walked over, insulted, beaten up and mostly screwed with backstage.

Richard: I thought that he liked that?

Nick: RICHARD!

Phoenix: From day one the powers that be, here, have thought that they knew what was best for me, meaning that they really knew what was best for themselves and their little careers … from Cantrell right down to Tyler – whichever one you care to choose as they all seem to be the same – all they are interested in is what they can get out of me.

Nick: I am sure that isn’t …

Phoenix: They are not interested in me, or my needs, in the slightest!

Bernie Roberts puts a hand to his ear, looking backstage as he listens to an unseen and unheard voice. With a small nod of his head he slowly walks over to Phoenix, a soft smile on his face.

Phoenix: Each and every week I ask for something – never very much, normally something that is easily within PRIME’s power to give – and each and every week I am either ignored or told that I have to ‘prove’ something to someone. Is that fair? Am I asking for too much, here?

Oblivious to Bernie following him Phoenix begins to pace around the ring and, while he still talks into the microphone, it is almost as if he has forgotten where he is – that he has an audience – and appears to be speaking more to himself than anyone else.

Phoenix: I mean it isn’t like I have demanded an entourage of staff to accompany me to every arena; I haven’t asked for a bigger dressing room or a personal limo to every show; I haven’t even asked for title shots – as I recall I have given those things away! I have only ever asked for one thing – the right to face who I want to face – NEED TO FACE – which, when you think about it, must be good for PRIME too …

Bernie Roberts catches up to the aimlessly moving Phoenix and places a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear. With a shrug of his shoulder Phoenix pulls away, glaring at the older man before.

Phoenix: Talking here, Bobby – back off!

Nick: Whoa, that DEFINITELY isn’t the Phoenix that we know talking.

Richard: Well unless Dawkins has discovered that he REALLY likes dressing as other people …

Phoenix: I have done everything that has ever been asked of me, here in PRIME, even if it hasn’t always been with a smile. I haven’t been a prima donna and thought that I ruled the place, I haven’t walked around making my own rules or attacking everyone and anyone that I felt like … basically I haven’t been like ninety percent of the current roster, including all of our vaunted champions and legends!

Nick: Who do you think that he is talking about?

Richard: … what, the ‘nice’ ten percent?

Phoenix: I mean do you ever hear ME call anyone a plebe?

Nick: Ah – one down.

Phoenix: No, I just come in, night after night, week after week, and get the job done. And I come in, night after night, and week after week, and get screwed over in return … just like tonight, yet again I chalk up a loss, in a match that I didn’t want, while the one person I WANT to face is kept away from me.

Nick: Strike two – Natas, obviously.

Phoenix: For the majority of my time here in PRIME Natas has been a thorn in my side, even if I didn’t know about … he has cost me titles, he has hurt my physically, he has tried to play mind-games with me and break me down – that won’t work, of course, not a chance! – but he crossed the line when he laid his hands on Rick …

Richard: It was a chair, actually.

Phoenix: … he crossed the line when he started, and kept on, using Rick as a weapon against me. Tonight might not have actually been Rick, back there in the dressing room, but that doesn’t matter … the message is clear – Natas is willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

Nick: Can’t argue with that.

Phoenix: … so maybe it is about time that I did the very same thing!

Richard: Natas has a boyfriend that Phoenix is going to use against him?

Nick: … Richard, shush.

Phoenix: You see I keep getting told by every damn person in charge that I have to prove myself every time I ask for something – and all I have asked for is simple … GIVE. ME. NATAS! Last week I proved that I can beat him up, I proved that I can even get him beaten in a match. What I want to do, what I need to do, is prove that I can beat him – once and for all – one-on-one, in this damn ring.

Bernie Roberts gets in front of Phoenix, reaching out one hand to take the microphone away from him as he places the other on his upper arm. Without missing a beat Phoenix simply leans forwards, pushing out and knocking the older referee onto his backside before he spins into the ropes.

Phoenix: NOT.NOW!

Nick: Oh my goodness!

Richard: Clean up in aisle four …

Phoenix: I think that I have ‘proved’ myself pretty fine, already. Just last week, in fact, I think that I did enough proof for anyone – whether their name is Tyler or not. I carried my whole damn team to victory; I personally pinned the greatest man to ever step foot in PRIME, Killean Sirrajin and his female counterpart, Karina Wolfenden … in case your memories fail you, right now, they are both PRIME Hall of Famers too.

Richard: He is actually talking sense – for a change – he did do that, after all!

Phoenix: Where was the rest of my team? Where were the two men who seem to be able to do whatever they damn well please simply because they wear shiny gold belts – Jason Snow and Kaiser Vashaun? Oh yeah – they were pinned. Eliminated. They didn’t make it to the end! I started that match, and I ended that match, as the last man standing. I then went right on, without a break, into the rumble and fought right to the end again. Where was Snow, where was Vashaun? Where were ANY of the movers and shakers in PRIME? Oh yeah – eliminated. AGAIN!

Nick: More referees coming out now, and Bernie Roberts looks ok, just shaken up.

Phoenix: Just like back in the Halo when - after a gruelling match with Natas’ glove puppet, Sabuani, where he had to put my face on fire to beat me – I lasted longer than any other PRIME or independent superstar I went right to the limit in the Rumble match too. It took a tag team – two people working together – to defeat me and, even then, me wasn’t easy.

Richard: Is it wrong that I am actually liking Phoenix a little?

Nick: … that just speaks more about Phoenix than you, unfortunately.

Phoenix: And let’s not forget that, last week, I was responsible for Natas getting eliminated during our match AND in the Rumble too. That was twice, in one night, where I ‘proved’ that I had what it takes to whoever the Hell was interested. Last week I earned a shot at the Intense Title and, as far as I know, I still have a shot at the 5 Star Title – that means that I have ‘proved’ that I am good enough to be in line for TWO frikkin’ PRIME belts.

On the outside of the ring the huddle of referees are whispering between themselves before they move around so that there is a couple of refs at each side of the ring.

Phoenix: When Snow, Vashaun and the others were busy getting pinned I proved that I can win the match; when Snow, Vashaun and the others were busy getting eliminated I proved that I could go the distance; I proved that I can beat Natas. Twice. So I am done. I. AM. DONE!

Richard: Aha! Resignation number 320!

Phoenix: I am done asking nicely. In fact I am done asking at all for what I want …

Nick: What?

Phoenix: So, to whoever the Hell is actually running this place, whichever Tyler has the control this week – for all I know it could be Steve frikkin’ Tyler from Aerosmith – I am not asking for what I want anymore.

The referees begin to climb onto the ring apron, a concerted effort to surround and control Phoenix but, with a smile, he just looks at them – turning a full circle – as he begins to leave under his own steam, one parting comment barking out of his mouth before he drops the mic to the canvas with a scream of static.

Phoenix. From now on I’m taking it!

Nick: Lisa Tyler wasn't bluffing tonight. We already watched Chainz lay a beatdown on his supposed ally.

Richard: But in the end, as is so often the case, their shared hatred united them, transcending their other differences. It was beautiful!

Nick: Unfortunately, yes. It doesn't look like this alliance will be shattered tonight, but PRIME still has one man to defend its honor.

Richard: That's right: Hessian.

Nick: No, Richard, he's serving under a GCW flag.

Richard: That can't be right, Stuart. Hessian and I are close family friends. This must just be a misunderstanding.

The arena lights fade to black and smoke and strobe fills the entrance and the stage as thrashing guitar and bellowing bass fill the ears of the fans in attendance, blaring out of the PA.

Vince Howard: The following match will be contested under Flag-On-A-Pole Rules. It will be decided by one fall. Above one turnbuckle is a PRIME flag, the other a GCW flag. The match is contested under normal disqualification rules, with each flag being considered a legal weapon. To reach the flag-

You remember, You remember me, yes,
I remember what we are, I remember only scars,
I remember only stars, I remember hell and mother,
I have seen the eye of god, Youth trust gone forever.

As the lyrical tome depicting the Hardcore Monster blasts through the air a massive silhouette approaches the stage, bleeding through the smoke which has a bluish hue through it until he stands before the ramp, shrouded by a long, flowing cape and embraced by the shadows as the light dances around him.

Nick: Apparently Hessian didn't need a primer on any further rules of the match.

Richard: Grabsmashkill isn't a style that differs a lot based on the rules of a match.

Nick: Well he's not going up against just anyone tonight, but PRIME's favored son, Chandler Tsonda.

Richard: It'll be like swatting a tiny effeminate gnat for the Loch Hess Monster.

Nick: You just come up with that?

Richard: I'm printing bootleg t-shirts of it as we speak.

See only the master, risen, risen,
After all the silence, all of him laughing
After all the strangers, beaten, driven,
Try to place all things, in a certain rhythm
Do as the book told you see the pages torn,
Make the spell upon them, in human form,
So we come to call it, the great & awesome dance,
Do you see before you, the Kingdom of Romance.

Breathing in the atmosphere, Hessian raises his arms to the sky and from his open hands a pair of fireballs burst forth suddenly, much to the delight of the screaming crowd who watch as he seems to tame fire.

You remember, You remember his face,
You remember what I am, I remember only weeping,
I remember only sleeping, I remember tearing flesh,
I can only taste the devil, Your tears when you cry,

Closing his eyes for a moment he tilts his head back, quickly looking forward again and roaring as he throws the balls of fire from his hands to the floor in front of him and listening as the applause becomes louder.

Wasted with the children, singing just a hymn,
You can hear them only, crying, crying,
After all the horses gallop to fathom,
Try to fell under you, spine of the dragon,
Do as you consider, writhe & spin alarm,
Spell tricky magic, nails for your savior,
So we bravely gather, though we moan with dread,
Do you see before you, the Kingdom of the Dead.

The entire ramp from his feet at the stage to the ring apron itself ignites and bursts into flame, licking at the air almost four feet high. Hessian pauses for a moment, looking off to the fans at his side before snarling and continuing on down the ramp through the fire as it falls a couple of feet and licks at his legs as he walks on.

Can I remember, I remember you, no,
Can I remember gold, I remember silver eyes,
I remember silver skies, I remember awesome pain
I can hear the horse in darkness, Only he dreams of glory.

Keeping pace Hessian briskly marches towards the ring through the fire as the lights flicker like lightning throughout the arena and the heavy metal of Motorhead bursts the eardrums of fans around the arena. The smoke soon dissapates on the stage and the fire dies down almost completely as Hessian reaches the ring apron.

Standing at the edge of all, Looking down at last,
Can you see the others, running, running,
All the horses burning, sinking, dying,
Do you feel destiny or are you lying,
Do what you were made for, all must endure,
Soon the door closes, for good or evil,
Are you the ice queen or do you want to burn,
Here see before you, the Kingdom of the Worm

Holding his open hands in front of him, Hessian stands almost in prayer for a moment, finally clenching his fists and reaching up for the top rope. The Hardcore Monster climbs the apron and over the top, stepping forward. He throws his arms out, fists clenched again and tenses his muscles to a barrage of flashbulbs, unleashing an animalistic roar to the death of the flames and the return of the lights.

Kingdom of Romance... Kingdom of the Dead...
Kingdom of the Worm...

ALL MEN MUST SUFFER!

Richard: He doesn't lack in pomp.

Nick: Does that make up for what he lacks in civility, sense of right and wrong, respect for other human-

Richard: Whatever you're going to say, yes, it does.

"I said 'kiss me, you're beautiful'
These are truly the last days'"

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: And listen to that ovation!

Richard: This is your last hope against Hessian? Jon Rhine beat the man and it took everything he had left. When's the last time you saw that guy?

The weathered voice from the beginning of Godspeed You! Black Emperor's "Dead Flag Blues" fades into the short acoustic section that begins Coheed & Cambria's "Welcome Home." After twelve seconds, the bitchin' guitars start to kick ass, as green and silver pyro goes off in perfect timing with the power riffs.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!

As the PRIME*View displays the words "Model Citizen" in white over a black background, Tsonda swaggers out from behind the curtain. He soaks up the fans' reaction at the top of the ramp, staring down at the might Hessian. And amidst the hazy green and silver smoke, he sprints to the ring, slides in under the bottom rope, and climbs one of the unoccupied turnbuckles, gesturing to the crowd.

Nick: So, like Vince was saying, this is a Flag-On-A-Pole Match.

Richard: No way. How'd you figure that out?

Nick: Unlike a Ladder Match, just grabbing the flag doesn't end the match. However, it does give that competitor a legal weapon within the squared circle.

Richard: The hell kind of weapon is a flag? Tsonda would probably just turn it into a fashionable neckerchief.

Nick: Well, that's to WHAT THE HELL?

As Tsonda's getting the crowd riled up, Hessian simply walks up to him and tosses him from the corner into the middle of the ring. The Model Citizen lands on his shoulder, touching down for just a second before he rolls up into a standing position, where he stares down the mercenary.

Richard: As the Romans used to say...tu snoose, tu lose.

Hessian charges, just barely missing a shoulder block that Tsonda sidesteps. Hessian swings a giant right that Tsonda ducks, and the smaller competitor tries to rise up with an uppercut, but it's caught by Hessian, who wrenches Tsonda's arm behind him in a powerful hammerlock. Continuing to wrench at Tsonda's right arm, Hessian forces Tsonda to his knees, execution-style. And simultaneously, the big man's able to drop his hold of the arm and surge forward with a knee strike right across the back of Tsonda's head.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Hessian showing absolutely no respect for Tsonda's years of service to this company.

Richard: We're talking about a guy who stormed in here and had beaten Tyler Rayne and Killean Sirrajin faster than you can say "amateur pornography." Respect is due both ways. And certainly more to the guy who doesn't play tonsil hockey with other dudes.

Putting a hand to the back of his head, feeling the spot where he'll have a massive goose egg tomorrow, Tsonda rolls to his left, just barely escaping under the bottom rope before Hessian can grab him. Tsonda leans on the apron, his eyes daring Hessian to come out after him. And the big man obliges, stepping through the middle ropes adjacent to where Tsonda is and landing feet-first on the cement floor. He gets a couple steps closer to Tsonda before the Sultan of Style slides back under the bottom rope into the ring. Hessian follows, only for Tsonda to once again slide under the bottom rope. The crowd seems to be taking great delight in watching Hessian's frustration.

Richard: What is this, second grade? Get in there and fight!

Nick: Tsonda's trying to bait Hessian into a mistake. It's perhaps Hessian's only weakness, that he can get impatient with a particularly pesky foe.

Hessian approaches the apron, ready to chastise his opponent for cowardly tactics, but he doesn't get a word in. Tsonda strikes like lightning, running at the apron, propelling himself up over the ropes, and knocking Hessian to the ground with a springboard leg lariat. Not down for long, Von Kelsig rises with an ugly sneer across his face. Tsonda blocks a right that's intended for his gut, swings his left leg over Hessian's arm, and pulls the big man down with a la magistral cradle pin.

One...



NO!

Nick: Easy shoulder up from Hessian.

Richard: Cheap pins won't get P.F. Chang far in this match.

Nick: One of Tsonda's tactics is using pins he knows won't beat the opponent to wear them down.

Richard: I know. I'm literally sitting next to you every time he comes out here.

Tsonda tries to catch the rising Hessian with a cross body block, but the Murder Show catches him and lifts him high overhead, showing off his otherworldly strength. With Tsonda suspended in a military press, Hessian goes to slam him forward, but the slippery former Universal Champion shifts his weight, dropping down the back of Hessian and sweeping out the big man's legs with a low kick. With the monster momentarily down, Tsonda goes for the gusto, running for the turnbuckle where the PRIME flag is suspended. Hessian quickly gets up, trying to prevent Tsonda from securing the weapon, but instead of climbing for the flag, Tsonda turns around, bounces off the second rope, and flies at the behemoth, swallowing him up with a dragonrana.

One...




Two...



NO!

Nick: Another kickout by Hessian, but he was clearly surprised by that sequence. He's used to reactionary wrestling, simple give-and-take. Now, Tsonda's throwing him curveballs and we'll have to see if The Murder Show can handle it.

Richard: He's back on his feet, and he looks even meaner than usual. Not quite sure if that's even possible.

Tsonda advances on Hessian, connecting with two rights before he grabs the monster in a front facelock. But Hessian's easily able to power out, wrapping both tree-trunk arms around Tsonda's midsection and lifting. It not only breaks the hold, but leaves Tsonda suspended in a bearhug in the middle of the ring. Hessian's vice grip grows tighter around the injured back of the Viet Viper, a fact evident from the pained cries that he lets out.

Richard: There's no crying in wrestling!

Nick: How long have you been waiting to say that? Years?

Richard: Ever since that one ReV where Geena Davis showed up asking for Ian English's autograph. Weirdest day of my life.

Bernie Roberts finally comes over to break up the holdd, and after a few extra seconds of inflicting pain, Hessian drops the Model Citizen to the mat, where he falls to his knees. Hessian stands over Tsonda, grabbing him by the hair. But the Sultan of Style is ready, exploding upwards with a weak right kick that serves as a prelude for a swinging left foot connecting with the back of Hessian's head, sending him staggering towards the ropes.

Nick: Enziguiri! Hessian's dazed!

The big man takes one step towards Tsonda, but he's on unstable footing, and the bicycle kick that follows from Tsonda puts Hessian on his back, garnering much crowd support for the San Diegan.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: Boo hiss.

Nick: Hessian's slow to his feet, and Tsonda's stalking his prey!

As Hessian stands upright, he senses his opponent behind him. He reaches out, somewhat blindly, with both arms, and finds his mark, catching Tsonda around the neck with two meaty paws. His two-handed choke has the Model Citizen gasping for air, and he lifts Tsonda into the air to increase the move's effectiveness. This, however, gives Tsonda an opening. The Tsuperstar sends a sharp kick into Hessian's mid-section, eliciting an "oof" and forcing the Construction of Destruction to drop him. At this point, it's just good policy to grab one's opponent in a front facelock. Due to Hessian's size, Tsonda is forced to forgo the "stalling" part of his favorite DDT, instead turning Hessian's weight into a weakness as he drives the big man's neck into the mat, all Von Kelsig's weight coming down atop him.

Nick: Golgotha Drop! Right on the neck!

Richard: As opposed to all those DDT's that are usually performed on the inner thigh.

One...



Two...
NO!

Richard: Just not gonna cut it, Chan Chan.

Nick: Hessian is as tough to bring down as the tallest redwood.

Richard: So you're saying you need a chainsaw? That actually might not be all that off-base.

Nick: The two men are up and staring one another down, circling. Neither has been able to find much momentum, but it seems that the slight edge is to Tsonda right now. He's kept Hessian off the offensive.

Richard: Mere survival isn't the same thing as an advantage.

The two lock up for a millisecond before Hessian's strength allows him to put Tsonda in a crossed-arms front facelock. He lifts the Viet Viper high and stalls there, flashbulb going off because, I mean hey, it's fucking impressive. What follows is the sudden smash of Tsonda's back into the mat as Hessian brings him down violently, the brainbuster knocking the wind out of Tsonda. Hessian drapes his torso over Tsonda's as he goes for a pin.

Nick: Hessplex!

One...



Two...



NO!

Richard: What was that about a slight edge to Tsonda?

Nick: Big move from the big man. Tsonda's reeling.

Tsonda pulls himself up with the ropes, right to where Hessian is waiting. Von Kelsig snags Tsonda and lifts him into a fireman's carry, but Tsonda uses a capoeira back roll to slide across Hessian, end up on the other side, and hit a jumping two-handed facecrusher that brings the crowd to life once again.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: This Hartford crowd won't stand for Hessian's unscrupulous alliance with Garbage Bag Johnny's GCW campaign.

Richard: Please. They're rooting for Tsonda because it's fun to root for David. But ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Goliath wipes the floor with David.

Hessian up. Tsonda spinning heel kick. Hessian down.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Tsonda's found his groove, and it's nothing but bad news for Hessian.

With Hessian rumbling to his feet, Tsonda bounces off the nearest rope. He uses the momentum for a Yakuza kick, but Hessian ducks, and Tsonda keeps charging towards the opposite turnbuckle, off of which he rebounds and clocks Hessian with a flying elbow smash. It leaves Hessian wobbling in place.

Richard: Do it for your ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War!

Nick: They fought for the British, Richard.

Richard: How would the British have beaten the Spanish without the help of-

Nick: Revolutionary War.

Richard: Right. How would the British have beaten the Chinese without the help of-

Nick: NevermiRUNWAY VAULT!

The PRIME*View shows a hugely helpful replay of Chandler Tsonda running at Hessian, grabbing him under the chin, ascending the turnbuckle, and flipping off backwards with his own version of Diamond Dust (which, did you know, also has a confusing ass Japanese name that Will neither knows nor cares to type out every time Tsonda uses it), sending the crowd into a frenzy.

TSON-DA! TSON-DA! TSON-DA!

Richard: It's not be enough.

Nick: Are you saying that to convince me or yourself?

Richard: NOT GONNA BE ENOUGH, ALRIGHT!

Tsonda, winded in his own right, crawls over to Hessian and hooks the man's massive leg, going for the win.

One...




Two...



ThreeNO!

Nick: SO close!

Richard: Great. Tsonda will have a good story about the time he almost pinned Hessian to tell his grandkids.

It's Tsonda who's up first, waiting for Hessian to reach his feet. He waits behind Hessian, ready to pounce on The Murder Show the second that he's up.

Richard: Active your Spidey-Senses, Hess!

Von Kelsig reaches full height, only to find Tsonda sliding in under his right arm. Tsonda grabs the arm and drapes it across his shoulder, then lifts for his patented rack neckbreaker, a move that's yet to be kicked-out-of.

Nick: Narcissist's Noose!

Richard: No!

Hessian carries a massive amount of bulk, and it's only by shifting all of his weight at the perfect moment that he's able to stop Tsonda from lifting him. But he does, leaving Tsonda stuck in very close quarters with the monster. A massive right hand interrupts Tsonda's continued attempts to lift Hessian, and sends the Model Citizen staggering towards the center of the ring.

Nick: Counter! Hessian stopped Tsonda from pulling off the finisher!

Richard: That chump rack neckbreaker isn't taking down m'boy H.

The speed of the big man is deceiving, as Hessian charges Tsonda and threatens the structural integrity of the Tsuperstar's upper vertebrae with a ring-shaking clothesline. Of course, it's not the clothesline that shakes the ring, but the impact of Tsonda spiking into it, an event which is followed by an impressive set of jeers for Hessian.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: This crowd wanted Tsonda to pull it out right there.

Richard: This crowd is a bunch of ninnies.

Letting out a roar, Hessian pulls Tsonda up by the hair before lifting the Viet Viper up onto his shoulder in a chinlock.

Nick: I've seen this before. Too many times...

Richard: You must be this tall to ride the Hellevator, dickweed!

Hessian pulls Tsonda into the Canadian backbreaker rack, as the crowd shouts for Tsonda to come to life. Mid-move, something stops Hessian. As he peers out into the crowd, he sees...someone. It's the sight of this face that causes Hessian to drop Tsonda, who still suffers an unpleasant meeting between his chest and the mat.

Nick: Something's got Hessian vexed.

Richard: Look no further than right the hell there, Stuart.

It's easy to follow Hessian's eyeline into the first row (which the camera does). It finds the eerily unmoving face of a familiar, perhaps not as familiar to Hessian as some PRIMEates, but he knows the face all the same. The night's earlier events told us this much. Even as The Murder Show shoots a most vile look her way, she doesn't flinch, doesn't blink, doesn't even appear to be alive, save the rhythmic ebb and flow of her chest.

Richard: I still have nightmares about that broad.

Nick: I think we know why she's here.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Those are for Hessian, to some degree.

But they're also for the pain and suffering that the Spider has previously inflicted on PRIME.

Desade.

Nick: Folks, Alexandra Pierce, better known as SCCW's Desade, is here scouting Hessian for their upcoming PTC Elite Title Match! We saw her backstage, but she's out here in the flesh! It's a damn disgra-

Richard: You know she made a joke about this already?

Nick: Shut it.

Richard: (shakes his head)I still can't believe Tyler let freakin' Public Enemy Number One in here.

Nick: The enemy of my enemy...

Richard: IS STILL FREAKIN' DESADE! Do you see how retarded this is?

Nick: Lisa Tyler's fighting a multi-front war right now. Against Tyler Nelson. Against Garbage Bag Johnny & Co. She doesn't have the luxury of picking her allies. And, regardless of your opinion on the woman, Desade certainly has Hessian's attention.

The massive German snarls, using a massive hand to point to Desade, as if to say "I haven't forgotten you, Spider." He shouts at her, tries to goad her into jumping into the fray. But the always-five-steps-ahead Director of SCCW remains motionless, watching with an imperviously stoic facial expression.

CRACK!

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: It's Tsonda! He's just brought the metal flagpole down on Hessian's back!

The Murder Show now roars in pain, spinning around to see Tsonda holding the six foot-long metal tube connected to the PRIME flag. Tsonda swings the metal like a staff, connecting with Hessian's shin, as the Murder Show momentarily forgets Alex Pierce and focuses on the very painful matter at hand.

Richard: What a coward.

Nick: Hessian was lost in Desade's eyes, and Tsonda took advantage.

With Hessian hobbled, Tsonda swings high with the flagpole/staff and catches Hessian on the side of the head. The blow knocks the big man into the corner, where Tsonda charges and connects with a moonsault kick.

Nick: Hessian's in a bad way here.

Hessian topples out of the corner, falling to the mat. And just like that, Tsonda's on top of the turnbuckle. He looks down at Alexandra Pierce, who remains statuesque. For posterity's sake, the Model Citizen offers up a middle finger to the Spider.

Richard: She just gave you a colossal assist, douchebag!

TSON-DA! TSON-DA! TSON-DA!

Facing the crowd, Tsonda leaps backwards, rotating end over end towards the downed form of Hessian.

Nick: Model Citizen! Model Citizen!

Richard: FML.

Tsonda crashes against the huge mercenary, hooking the leg as Bernie Roberts slides in for the count.

One...




Two...




Three!

Nick: He did it! Tsonda took down Hessian! Just the second man to score a pinfall over the imposing mercenary!

Richard: With a huge goddamn hand from Desade, might I add.

Nick: That's the truth. Without Desade at ringside, this is a totally different match, and probably one that Hessian wins. But you know that The Murder Show is going to be bloodthirsty for his upcoming PTC Elite Title Match!

As Tsonda huffs and puffs, bell ring still echoing, he rips the PRIME flag from the pole, looking down first at Hessian, and then meeting eyes for a moment with Desade. With "Welcome Home" rocking on in the background, Bernie Roberts raises Tsonda's right hand, and the Model Citizen raises his left, which tightly graps the PRIME flag.

Nick: Somewhere, Lisa Tyler is quietly celebrating. She forced both Garbage Bag Johnny and Hessian into tough situations, with each man taking a loss.

Richard: One loss? Pfft. They'll stay the course and come back ready to kick insane amounts of ass next week.

Tsonda pumps his fist, PRIME flag within, to the triple beat of a favorite chant.

PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT!

Nick: It's a chant usually reserved for insane spots, but tonight in Hartford we're seeing it used as a battle cry.

Richard: This is bull.

The irony is not lost on the fans, as one former enemy from outside has cost an enemy from inside an important match. But PRIME has survived Alexandra Pierce, and with any luck, it will survive this new GCW rebellion. For right now, all questions of how Garbage Bag Johnny, Chainz, and Hessian will respond are put aside, as the Hartford faithful rise in unison, cheering Tsonda, yes, but also cheering for a victory of PRIME over its splinter group.

The PRIME logo comes up on the righthand corner of the screen as Tsonda continues to lead the cheer, three pumps of his fist as he holds the flag tightly within his grasp.

PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT!

This battle is over.

Stay tuned for the war.