Nick: Ladies and Gentlemen, WE - - ARE - - LIVE!!!

Richard: Right on the heels of what might have been the single greatest night in the HISTORY of PRIME!

Nick: Hard to disagree with that, Richard. Colossus VI is in the books, folks, and I hope you caught it. What a night it was! Every single match, Richard, I think you’ll agree, was incredible. Titles changed hands and history was made!

Richard: And Jay Phoenix QUIT! Don’t forget about that part, Nick! Jay Phoenix is finally gone for good.

Nick: Hessian took home the Elite title. Chainz made a lot of his supporters look like geniuses, winning the Intense championship, AND pulling his winning streak to an incredible seven matches!

Richard: And lets not forget the biggest moment of all, Stuart. The Main Event – quite possibly the biggest match in the history of PRIME. And when the dust settled, Jason Snow was BOTH the Universal Champion and the 5-Star Champion!

"Right Next Door to Hell" by Guns N’ Roses

Nick: Speak of the devil…

Richard: Speak of the champion!

Nick: …and he will appear.

He emerges through the curtain, triumphant despite a pair of crutches to keep him propped up, sneering wild-eyed at the booing audience. He’s one snake skin boot short tonight, as his left foot is wrapped heavily. And on his face many subtle mementos from Kaiser Vashaun have yet to completely fade – pale bruises that surround his left eye, trailing all the way to his ear. And yet still, despite his hobbled state, there’s no doubt that this is a triumphant return to Revolution – the Universal Championship is strapped tightly around Snow’s waist, and the 5-Star title is draped over his shoulder beneath his open leather jacket.

Richard: Take a look at the sacrifice he made to put on a show for these idiots, and listen to the reception they give him! It’s a disgrace!

Nick: There’s no one in the world that doesn’t respect Jason Snow’s talents, Richard – it’s his mouth they have no use for. I tell ya, sometimes, it’s painfully clear that this is just an act that Snow puts on. But still - does that make it better, or is that even worse?

Richard: What the hell are you talking about!? The man says he’s the best because he’s the best! Look at all that gold! Look at his resume! Tell me, Nick, is there anyone - anyone - in the history of professional wrestling with the kind of accolades that that man has racked up in the last ten years?

Nick: Well, he definitely has a case.

Richard: You’re damn right he does!

Nick: But lets not forget about Kaiser Vashaun’s effort at Colossus. How close, Richard - how close - did close did he come to dethroning Snow? We were literally inches away from Kaiser Vashaun standing there with both titles.

Richard: Horseshoes and hand grenades.

Snow takes some time for obligatory scowls as he slowly makes his way to the ring, obviously still a bit wobbly on the crutches. It’s unclear what the extent of the ankle injury is, or if it had been worse before tonight. Once at the apron, Snow struggles to slide under the bottom rope, but eventually, he pops up in the center of the ring. He leans his crutches on the ropes to free both of his hands, and then he takes a moment to raise his prizes high above his head. Despite the boos, the arena erupts in flash bulbs.

As the music fades, Snow props himself up on his crutches again and swings himself toward the center of the ring, sloppily holding both titles in one hand. Finally, someone throws him a mic.

He waits for the crowd to stop booing.

Richard: If these plebes would just shut up! The champ’s trying to speak.

Snow shakes his head, looking out at them, their boos growing only louder.

Snow: That’s fine. That’s great. Boo. Boo me all you want – it doesn’t change that fact that I walked into Colossus VI and I did EXACTLY what I said I was going to do! It doesn’t change the fact that I left Kaiser Vashaun lying in a heap in the middle of Fenway Park. Do you think I give a damn if you inferior bastards respect me!? The fact is, plebes, your great, great grandchildren will read about me in text books and they won’t even know your God damn names!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

On crutches, Snow can’t manage his usual pacing, so he stays still in the center of the ring, looking from side to side, eyes defiant. After, finally, the crowd begins to quiet themselves, he speaks again.

Snow: You see, I told you at King of Kings that your nightmare was about to begin. I told you at Culture Shock that we were entering a new era. And just like every time I say something, anything, I followed it through to the letter! Hell, I did more!

Snow raises both titles again in one hand.

Snow: And I told you something else too. I told you that every other damn peasant on the roster would be fighting for second best!

He smirks.

Snow: Well, sometimes peasants, even I can’t grasp the true scope of my greatness. Because it would seem, that not only am I the BEST wrestler on the planet…

Holds up his Universal Championship.

Snow: … But I am also the second best wrestler on the planet!

Holds up his 5-Star Championship.

Snow: I guess that means the rest of them are fighting for third.

The audience boos heavily again, but Snow maintains his smirk this time.

Snow: And you know what the most frightening part is? For the rest of you? Let me paint the picture for you… When I first came into PCW, they called me a prodigy. A phenom. When I first came to PRIME, they called me a legend. Well get a good look folks, because I am most certainly am all of those things, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER!

Half-crazed eyes scan the audience.

Snow: If you couldn’t beat me yesterday, you sure as hell can’t beat me today! And if you can’t beat me today, then tomorrow you won’t have a prayer! I keep telling you, you simple bastards, I am the best in this business! At Colossus VI, I made history one more time, and damn it plebes, buckle up, because I’m just getting started!

Richard: Preaching the gospel.

Nick: The gospel of Snow…

Snow: Better get used to it, plebes. This is what PRIME is now – Jason Snow and the losers that can’t beat him, but damn it if they don’t try once in a while.

Nick: He definitely didn't leave Colossus without his scars though, he went through one hell of a battle to get to where he is tonight folks.

Richard: I think right now we're witnessing gre...

HOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nick: WHOA!

Richard: WHAT THE?!

"The Beast And The Harlot" hits over the speakers, ushering in the entrance of the Wolves Of Slaughter. Jason Snow glares down towards the entrance while the fans jump up to their feet. It might just be the moment they think it's going to be.

Nick: Are they?!

Richard: They wouldn't...

Elise Ares walks out first holding her arms out as if she's relishing in the worshiping cheers of the crowd that don't exist. A very vocal mixed reaction greets them as Kazys Jankauskas enters behind her. Much to Jason Snow's disbelief PRIME referee Max Newell runs out from behind The Wolves Of Slaughter, making the already deafening crowd go up a decibel or two. Pointing towards the time keeper Max attempts to bark out some instructions towards PRIME Ring Announcer Vince Howard, who tries desperately to hear the instructions.

Nick: What’s this!? Wait a minute!

Meanwhile Jason Snow just glares at the PRIME Tag Team Champions as Elise Ares dances her way down towards the ring, and behind her Kazys Jankauskas locks eyes with the champ. Even the deafening roars of the crowd can't be heard by either Jason Snow or Kazys Jankauskas as they narrow in on each other.

Vince: I've just been instructed by PRIME official Max Newell that the following is a match for the PRIME UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP and is for ONE FALL!

Nick: WHOA!!!

Richard: What!? Now!? NOW!?!?

Elise Ares makes a belt motion across the waist of Kazys Jankauskas as Jason Snow backs up on his crutches.

Nick: Kazys is cashing in his shot!

Richard: Snow's on crutches!

Nick: I think they're well aware of that.

Richard: What a brilliant move! If no one on the roster can beat Snow... beat him on crutches! Why didn't I think of that?!

The Wolves Of Slaughter enter the ring as Jason Snow backs up into his corner and is asked to hand over his championships. He doesn’t. Instead, he looks worriedly from the audience to Vince Howard, and then to Kazys Jankauskas, marching down to the ring.

Nick: The roof is about to come off this place! We’re kicking off Revolution with a bang!

Snow wipes the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily, his eyes shifting wildly. In the opposite corner are now Wolves Of Slaughter, Kazys stretching behind Elise Ares who marches to the side of the ring and demands a microphone from Vince Howard. Reluctantly he hands it over and the music stops.

A very vocal crowd is psyched about the title shot happening.

Before Elise can speak, Snow raises the microphone to his lips.

Snow: What the hell is this? You want your shot now!?

He glances down at the crutches – at his over all state.

Snow: Really?

The grin on Elise Ares’ face could make the Grinch cry.

Nick: Snow’s trying to think of a way out – but there’s no way out! Kazys has a banked shot!

Snow takes a moment to stare down at his titles, both the Universal and 5-Star… and then suddenly, he tosses them aside, along with one of his crutches. Hopping on one leg, he slings the other one over his shoulder and spit flies when he shouts into the microphone.

Snow: FINE! FINE, GOD DAMN IT! LETS DO IT THEN! RIGHT NOW!

Snow never gets pops – but those words make the place explode.

Nick: Oh my God!

Richard: Crutches or not, Snow believes he can take on the entire world! If there’s one thing you can’t question about him, it’s his ego!

Nick: I don’t know if he’s courageous or delusional, but Kazys Jankauskas is about to tear him apart!

In the ring, Kazys takes a step forward, smiling. Snow holds his ground, leaning on the ropes to support his weight, still clutching his lone crutch like a weapon. Their eyes are locked on each other, Kazys’ confident and Snow’s wild…

…when Elise Ares steps between the two.

She raises a microphone of her own to her lips. Smirking.

Elise: Well... that's exactly what would be happening right now...

Nick: Would be?

Jason Snow looks perplexed a bit as she continues.

Elise: If we didn't just sell the PRIME Universal Championships shot.

Nick: THEY WHAT?!

Richard: THEY WHAT?!

A smirk crosses across the face of The Swaggeriffic One as she finishes making her announcement. The fans, once on their feet in excitement of seeing a PRIME Universal Championship shot are now booing at the tops of their lungs. It almost looks like music to Elise's ears.

It seems to take Snow a moment to digest that. When he comes himself, he puts his crutch back under him and calls for the other one. Vince Howard steps up onto the apron to return Snow his championships, and with a wary eye on the Wolves, Snow clutches them to his chest, on both crutches now. With his other hand, he’s still got the microphone.

Snow: Can’t say I blame you I guess.

Nick: He just dodged a bullet. I don’t even know if that self-absorbed lunatic realizes it.

Snow takes a brazen hop forward.

Snow: I wouldn’t want to fight me either. I wouldn’t look at it as a lost title shot, you big bastard. Look at it as the ass beating you don’t have to take. Now, if you’re not down here to fight, HOW ABOUT YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF MY RING WHILE I’M ADDRESSING MY FANS!?

OOOOHHHHHHH!

The crowd response is much akin to "Oh no he didn!" as The Iron Wolf steps past Elise Ares in the corner. Walking towards the middle of the ring, Kaz stares down the PRIME Universal Champion who doesn't back down an inch... even on crutches. The big man doesn't say a word, he just glares at the champ. Almost as if he's looking into the soul of Jason Snow. Snow, for his part, stares defiantly upward.

When the Wolves don’t budge, Snow goes on.

Snow: That wasn’t a request.

Kazys Jankauskas grabs the microphone out of Jason Snow's hand. He doesn't say anything at all, just throws it onto the ground. Moving a little closer The Iron Wolf gets right into Snow's face. But still the champ doesn't budge. Not only does he not budge, he throws a crutch to the ground in defiance. The crowd begins to get hot again as all of a sudden Elise Ares tries to squeeze in between the two.

Elise: Whoa, whoa, whoa... WHOA! We didn't come out here to fight, we came out here to make our own announcement, alright? You can have back your "fans" or what not. I just thought that you'd appreciate the information that Kazys will no longer be going after your Universal Championship. I... just can't make promises for anyone else.

The comment gets its intended affect. Snow’s eyes turn to Elise Ares. Her, grinning wickedly, and him, with a thoughtful tongue between his teeth, perhaps finally realizing how fragile his grip on the 5-Star championship is. For years, Snow’s refused to step into the ring against women, but he can’t avoid the fact that she has a title shot.

Nick: We all know what that means. I really don’t know how Snow will handle that situation if it comes up.

Richard: And knowing Elise, she’s going to hang it over his head for as long as possible.

Slowly, Snow kneels down to pick up the microphone, never taking his eyes off the looming Jankauskas. Only when he rights himself, he turns them on Ares. He gives her a harsh nod.

Snow: Well you do what you gotta do. But either way, I suggest you get this -

Points to Jankauskas.

Snow: - big ugly son of a bitch out of my face because, I swear to Greatness, wench, Fenway left an impression on me and I’m about to swing for the fences!

Hopping on one leg, he slings the crutch over his shoulder, ready to discard the microphone at a moment’s notice.

Elise: We'll see about tha...

Before she can even finish her sentence, Snow’s microphone hits the ground and he makes good on another promise - going for the homerun! Ares uses her lightning reflexes to hit the mat and roll out of the ring. But the shot isn’t for her anyway. Kazys barely moves, save for the hand that comes up like a rock to protect his face. The crutch snaps over his forearm in a shower of splinters and chips, leaving Snow to discard it with the other. Kazys’ face remains stone for a time, and then he smiles menacingly down at the champ. For his part, Snow, hopping, doesn’t back down an inch. All the while, Elise Ares is calling from the outside, and after one final glance at the Universal title, and a brazen smirk for its champion, Kazys steps out of the ring and joins his tag team partner on the outside.

The Wolves back pedal toward the locker room, their eyes locked on Snow’s.

Nick: I can’t believe Kazys sold the title shot! This has Elise Ares written all over it, but what’s the plan!? What could they possibly have traded the shot for?

"The Beast and the Harlot" plays the tag team champs out.

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 sweat, standing over the broken bodies of Desade and Wyatt Connors with the Elite Championship held high above his head.

Yeah, I get it
You're an outcast.

Tony Gamble makes The Original Villain, Jason Snow, tap out to his Smile for Me finishing maneuver.

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.

Kazys Jankauskas eliminates Elise Ares over the top rope and is declared the winner of ReVolution's 200 battle royal.

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 and flashes the Intense Championship.

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.

Elise Ares does a little dance, shouts "Que Tal Eso" and spits into the camera.

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

Brandon Pierce slams Troy Douglas into the canvas.

To explain,
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.
When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?
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.
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.

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

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

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

To explain,
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.
When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?

The Redeemed are ready to make an impact on PRIME.

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

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

To explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun.
When you gonna wake up...
When you gonna wake up and fight...

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

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.

Jay Phoenix pounds on Jason Natas for all he's worth.

You can sleep with a gun.
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 over Chandler Tsonda at Culture Shock the new Universal Champion.

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

And over Kaiser Vashaun at Colossus VI, the new 5 Star Champion. A double champion.

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

PRIME...Number One by Definition.

A massive wave of fireworks and pyrotechnics hit the stage inside the Honda Center as every cameraman gears up for what is slated to be another groundbreaking ReVolution in PRIME. The men manning the overhead portables scan out into the 18,000 plus who have jam packed the building, eager to see PRIME. Some are coming for the first time and others are veterans of the PRIME audience.

Regardless, the energy flowing through the building is electric and every soul in the joint is pumped.

The camera fades over to Richard Parker and Nick Stuart, both looking especially swank in their suit and tie getups.

Nick: I know we came to you just a few moments ago, but Jason Snow interrupted our run down. Welcome, everybody, to ReVolution 203, live from the Honda Center in Anaheim, California.

Richard: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!

Nick: I am Nick Stuart alongside Richard Parker and we are ready to navigate you through this 90 minute extravaganza that is PRIME. We are coming off the heels of one of the most historic Pay-Per-Views.

Richard: Snow sure as hell changed the landscape of PRIME.

Nick: You better believe that. And I doubt we have seen the last of him this evening as I'm sure he'll want to gloat like hell about his winnings some more.

Richard: And it's pretty safe to say we haven't seen the last of the Tag Team Champions, either. What a statement they made.

Nick: It's only going to get better. Three big time matches have been made for this evening. New Intense Champion Chainz is looking to keep his winning streak alive. Tonight he will face Brandon Pierce, who is coming off a heartbreaking loss to Troy Douglas on the Pay-Per-View.

Richard: So long as he hangs around Claire, he's never a loser.

Nick: And in a match that PRIME fans have pondered for a long time, Tony Gamble will be making his return to the ring and facing Tyler Nelson.

Richard: A heels dream match if there ever was one, Nick.

Nick: And in the Main Event...Hessian, the new Elite Champion, will take on 'Megatron' Troy Douglas.

Richard: It should be an exciting evening to say the least.

The cameras find themselves backstage with nothing to do nor anyone to talk to. It's a boring night so far and aside form the Wolves of Slaughter announcement, not much has gone down. As the camera crew looks for a story they see two of PRIME's lovely ladies standing together conversing about an important topic.

Claire: Don't they hurt your back?

Tracy: Well they did at first, but now I'm used to them. They sure do fill out a bikini though.

Claire leans in and takes a good look at Tracy's top. Yeah, it's a damn important topic. She reaches out to touch them and all the men in attendance collectively hold their breath, but Claire stops just short.

Claire: You mean there is a bikini that those will fit into?

Tracy: Well of course. They're not for everyone, but I like them. So how've you been Claire? It's nice to actually find someone decent to talk to around here, most of PRIME is filled with degenerates and lowlifes.

Claire: I know exactly what you mean, every where you look it's just a load of egotistical chauvinistic men preening themselves. So out of interest I have to ask your man...he's a little on the strange side isn't he? What do you see on him?

Claire still captivated by Tracy's more than ample chest. Not wanting to be beaten adjusts her top to reveal as much cleavage as possible.

Tracy: A lot of people ask me that and I know here in PRIME he does some odd things, but people don't see what he's like at home. Together we have so much fun and deep down he's more than just another wrestler. I know it's hard to imagine, but he can be really sweet sometimes.

Claire nods, although deep down she knows Tracy is just fooling herself. Everyone in PRIME knows what kind of man Sloan is. Still, to Claire Tracy is as close a friend as she's had in PRIME so she keeps her mouth shut on the subject.

Tracy: Say how's your man doing lately?

Claire: He's alright yeah, still a little bit sore about the Colossus loss, but all he can do is keep moving forwards, which I suppose brings us to tonight. Still at least we can be civil around each other and know that it's just a job.

As though on cue Brandon Pierce rounds the corner and spots the two women talking to each other. He approaches them silently and slides an arm around Claire kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Brandon: Hey hun, what's going on here?

Claire: Nothing dear, me and Tracy have just been catching up, a bit of girly talk you know how it is.

Just as Claire finishes her sentence a much darker image appears in front of them and literally sucks all the good feelings out of the area. Unlike Brandon Pierce, Chainz grabs Tracy by the arm and spins her towards him before locking lips forcefully.

Tracy: Jeez, I'm glad to see you too.

Chainz: Who are you?

He asks, pointing to Brandon.

Brandon: The person who is going to beat you tonight.

Not one to be out done, Brandon proceeds to kiss Claire long and sensually although his eyes never actually leave Chainz'. As he comes up for air he returns to a much more aggressive posture, positioning himself in front of Claire.

Brandon: Now have you got any more ridiculous questions?

Chainz: I just want to know, who the hell are you?

Chainz asks the same question bringing a look of anger into Brandon's eyes.

Chainz: They told me I was wrestling some scrub tonight. Are you that scrub?

Tracy: Michael, be nice.

Chainz: Hey I am being nice. Watch this, scrub just leave the arena tonight and you won't get hurt.

Taking a step forwards towards Chainz, Pierce physically shoves Chainz backwards but as he steps forwards to retaliate Pierce simply holds up a solid fist, causing Chainz to stop momentarily.

Brandon: You might want to listen to your delusional lady there and be nice. I don't want to have to hurt you before we even get in the ring and believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure.

Claire: Look Brandon, why don't we just leave it and go get ready?

Chainz: Hold on little lady, the men are speaking now.

Claire shoots him a death stare and in return he grins at her. It was enough to have her back up and hide behind Brandon.

Chainz: You're gonna hurt me? Ain't you the guy that lost to that pathetic Troy Douglas at Colossus?

The jab pierces Brandon.

Chainz: You haven't hurt anyone, hell I bet you couldn't hurt a fly. I've won 7 matches in a row and I'm a champion. What have you done? Nothing. You know why this match is non-title? It's simple, no one in their right mind thinks you even deserve a sniff of my title. The only reason this match is even happening is for my personal practice.

Showing as much restraint as he possibly can, Pierce takes a moment for a deep breath to calm himself and not lunge at Chainz.

Brandon: Listen chief, you may scare Tracy over there. A woman who is so terrified of you she has convinced herself she loves you. But you don't scare me. You want to be thankful that this match isn't for your title, not because I'd take it from you but because under Intense rules I would not hesitate to introduce you to a world of pain neither you, nor your butt buddy Hessian can begin to comprehend.

Brandon turns his attention to Tracy.

Brandon: When are you going to realise that this guy is nothing more than a tool. Those funbags you've got there, they weren't your decision were they? It was all him. To men like him, you are nothing more than a walking living doll and you would be better off without him.

Tracy stands speechless, not knowing what to say, but Chainz is quick with a reply.

Chainz: So wait, you're going to teach me about pain? Me? Son, I know more about pain then anyone on this roster. Both in how to deal with it and how to deal it. You watch your mouth, Meat, or I'll bust your face so bad you'll have to undergo another name change.

In a flash Pierce bursts forward and grabs Chainz by the throat and begins to squeeze tightly.

Brandon: You call me Meat again, I'll put your face through the wall.

Chainz simply smiles and doesn't even try to fight back. Instead he whispers something only he and Brandon can hear.

Chainz: I'd be more concerned about your prize slut right there. After I'm done with our sultry boss I may make her next.

Brandon turns his head to look at Claire, the fear in her eyes is evident and she doesn't want to be here any longer. Maintaining his hold on Chainz he leans in close so the two are nose to nose. Chainz' face doesn't change and remains a static sadistic smile.

Brandon: I'll tell you this now, if you ever lay a finger on her. I will kill you.

Pierce lets go of Chainz and turns back towards Claire and begins to usher her away from the area.

Chainz: You should be wise who you throw threats out at Meat. You can't kill me, I am death.

He turns to Tracy.

Chainz: Don't be talking to them anymore. I got a feeling they won't be around much longer.

Tracy looked concerns as Chainz smiles whilst Brandon and Claire disappear behind a corner.

Commercial Break

At least he was released from the shackles of wearing that ridiculous backstage interviewer clown suit. That’s what Tyler kept telling himself as he sifted through the duffel bag on the floor next to his chair. His dressing room was plain, and that’s probably an understatement. There were two folding chairs situated around a cheap card table, and a couple of hooks on the white walls to hang his clothes on should he choose to do so. In any of his previous incarnations as a wrestler, Tyler Nelson always had the luxury of lavish dressing rooms with any amenity he wanted. Of course, in his previous incarnations as a wrestler, Tyler Nelson was rich.

Tyler Nelson: Did you pack the athletic tape? I don’t see it in here.

Mr. Simmons, the personal bodyguard/human shield of Tyler Nelson, comes over and helps dig through the contents of the duffel bag. Simmons smiles and stands upright.

Mr. Simmons: Got it!

The bodyguard produces the roll of white tape and hands it to Tyler. The Greediest Player in the Game frowns, annoyed that it only took Simmons mere moments to find the roll. Nelson quickly drops the tape back into the bag.

Tyler Nelson: Thanks. Now I know where it’s at.

A clatter startles Nelson, and he looks up to see a shiny gold belt lying in a heap on the table in front of him. Beyond that, towering over him is a giant of a man, arms folded and a wry grin plastered on his face. Beside him another figure stands, slightly smaller but just as imposing as the giant, with yet more gold draped over his shoulder.

Tyler Nelson: Hello, gentlemen.

Hessian and Chainz nod their heads while Mr. Simmons stares up at the intimidating forms standing before him and his charge. Unfolding his arms, the Murder Show gestures to the belt lying on the table between them.

Hessian: You see this?

Nelson sits forward and examines the belt. Turning it every which way for close inspection, he whistles approvingly at the large golden medallion fastened to the leather strap and examines the title.

Tyler Nelson: Since I am a betting man, and I only make bets I can win, I’m willing to wager that this is the PTC Elite Title belt.

The Murder Show smirks and takes the belt back from the King of Greed’s clutches and drapes it over his shoulder. Chainz shifts his weight and leans to get a look at the belt himself. Adjusting the belt, Hessian gestures to Nelson once more.

Hessian: So what does that make me?

Nelson looks at Hessian warily, wondering where the game of 20 questions is leading.

Tyler Nelson: That would make you PTC Elite Champion.

Hessian: (raising a correcting finger) Ah, that would make me...indebted to you, sir. After all I have you to thank for the opportunity, don't I?

The Greediest Player in PRIME licks his lips and raises his eyebrows, an arrogant smirk beginning to cover his face.

Tyler Nelson: Indeed you do. Your gratitude is appreciated Von Kelsig, I'm sure I'll be able to find use for your services at some point in the foreseeable future, if that is what you mean by indebted.

Hessian: Of course! The way I see it you gave the meanest son of a bitch in Primetime Central the means to officially become the number one son in Primetime Central. I dropped the supposed Elite God like a bag of shit and now I've brought the gold home. You made that possible Nelson, and I'm letting you know after all that crap with the bin man my allegiance lies with PRIME, and with Tyler Nelson.

The King of Greed flashes his pearly whites and clasps his hands.

Tyler Nelson: You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Von Kelsig.

Nelson looks over at Chainz, who proudly massages his Intense Title.

Tyler Nelson: I see you had a successful weekend at Colossus as well.

Chainz: Yeah, but there’s only one trophy around here that matters to me. A little fiery red-headed trophy that I’d like to-

Nelson quickly interrupts Chainz’ daydream.

Tyler Nelson: I’ll figure the rest out for myself.

Michael Sloan smiles and closes his eyes, thinking what are sure to be impure thoughts, to say the least.

Tyler Nelson: What do you see in her anyway?

Chainz: I just thinking breaking that bitch and putting her in place would be fun.

Suddenly a knock comes at the door and Nelson glances at Mr. Simmons, nodding his head toward the dressing room entrance. The bodyguard reaches the door and presses his ear to it, trying to listen for any sounds. Hearing nothing, he grabs the doorknob. Pulling the door slightly ajar, he pokes his head out and at once his posture seems to tense. Holding the door he looks back at Tyler and then glances at Hessian.

Mr. Simmons: Someone at the door for Hessian.

Nelson waves his hand.

Tyler Nelson: Well, send them in alre-...

Hessian: No, no. I'll take it out in the corridor. Wouldn't want to mix business with pleasure.

A guttural chuckle emanates from his throat, and clutching his Elite title Hessian walks out of Nelson's locker room and steps out into the hallway.

And on the toes of Lisa Tyler, complete with Dam accessory.

Hessian: Well hello down there. How can I help you, ma'am?

Lisa folds her arms and glowers at the Murder Show, taking a step closer to the giant and staring him in the eye.

Lisa Tyler: I thought I might make the effort to personally seek you out and congratulate you on representing PRIME so professionally at Colossus. I have to say I enjoyed the look on the faces of your SCCW counterparts when you tore that title from their golden boy.

The Murder Show cockily takes a bow and grins ear to ear, hoisting the title back up onto his shoulder once more and shining it up with his forearm.

Hessian: I appreciate the sentiment. Thanks for giving me the shot at the-...oh wait...

The Murder Show's expression turns to one of puzzlement before becoming stoic all of a sudden. Lisa furrows her brow.

Hessian: No, wait that's right you never made me a contender for the title...it was that thorn in your side, Nelson, wasn't it?

Lisa Tyler: While that...employee may have given you the means of contention, he was acting in the best interest of PRIME and, thusly, of me.

Hessian: Strange, considering before the pay-per-view your only concern with me and your beau Sloan seemed to be ensuring we worked in the interest of PRIME instead of rallying behind some GCW waster. Your only promise to us was a little more empathy towards us. At the end of the day given our history and our talent that means nothing.

BLT shifts on her feet, her glower turning to a frustrated glare.

Hessian: As far as I'm concerned Tyler Nelson delivered the goods. Regardless of your quarrel with him he took care of me and my needs. What have you done?

Lisa Tyler: Von Kelsig, you'd do well to remember who signs your paycheck because it damn sure isn't Tyler Nelson. And if you're so concerned with PTC and its Elite championship arrangements can be made for a transfer to, oh...I don't know...SCCW?

Hessian: Please. You've got more business sense than to sell one of your greatest assets to the competition. Just consider this: I'm the biggest and the best in PTC, and I expect to be treated as such now. Before it was all hardcore, hardcore and that was fine. Nelson gave me the chance to showcase my talents to a wider audience and I did just that. So as far as I'm concerned PRIME owes me.

Before Tyler can open her mouth in retort, Hessian walks off. Lisa fumes in anger.

"What’s the matter, sweet thing? Big guy get you all hot and bothered?"

BLT whips her head around to find Chainz leaning against the doorway to Nelson’s dressing room.

Chainz: That’s nothing compared to what I can do for you. You just say the word.

Lisa Tyler: Nauseating comes to mind.

Chainz: Oh, come on now. Don’t be that way, baby. How about you let me take you to dinner sometime, and then you can treat me to dessert?

Lisa Tyler: Ugh.

Chainz: You know I've tried to be nice and cordial about this whole thing, but girly you're not making this easy on me. You're really going to make me work for your honey because I can tell you it will just be harder on you in the long run. Trust me, just like this title, I get what I want. I want you Lisa. You should feel complemented, I've had tons of women and I find you just so purrrty. Don't you wanna try and top the women of my life?

Lisa Tyler: Mr. Sloan, go to hell and burn there.

Chainz: If that's what it takes then I'll do it.

Sloan licks his lips as Lisa casts her famous icy glare upon him. She spins on her heel and heads off down the corridor. Dam pauses momentarily, his gaze fixed on Chainz. The Intense Champion winks at the behemoth and smirks before Dam turns and follows Lisa out of sight.

"Sympathy of Destruction" by Megadeath

Nick: Here we go, folks.

Claire emerges through the curtain first, and close behind comes Brandon Pierce. He looks more intense than he’d previously been – ready for war. And he’ll need to be tonight.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for ONE fall, and is a NON-title match.

Nick: For those of you that missed Colossus, you might know the man heading toward the ring as Meat. But things have changed.

Vince Howard: Coming to the ring, hailing from Denver Colorado and weighing in at two hundred and seventy-eight pounds… "The Sympathy of Destruction," Braaaaannndon Piiiiieeeeerrrce!

Nick: That’s right folks – Brandon Pierce. A new look, a new attitude, and a new start.

Richard: Facing the monster Chainz? Not an ideal start.

Nick: A win here tonight would be incredible for Pierce’s young career. Chainz has been tearing through PRIME for months now.

As they get to the ring, Claire and Pierce exchange a few words.

Nick: Is it just me or is Brandon Pierce looking like he’s in better shape every time out?

"My Gift to You" by Korn

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Richard: Hide your children!

Vince Howard: And HIS opponent! Weighing in at two hundred and ninety-five pounds, from Hell’s Kitchen, New York… Ladies and Gentlemen, your Intense Champion!

Richard: NEW Intense Champion!

Vince Howard: Chaaaaaaaaaaaiiiinnnnzzz!!!

The beast saunters out from the back looking massive and angry and terrifying. In contrast to all of that is Tracy, following behind. The Intense title is folded neatly and she holds it out in front of her proudly.

Nick: There have been many great, great Intense Champions in PRIME’s history. You don’t even have to go that far back to see Hessian and Kaiser Vashaun’s reigns. And who could forget that Devin Shakur is a two time champion? Killean Sirrajin. Vangelus Olsig. That title has had a long list of incredible champions, and now Chainz is going to try to live up to that hype.

Richard: He already has. Are you kidding? The man’s won seven matches in a row! In PRIME! 2009 PRIME. He comes out every week to face the very best in the world, and so far, he’s eaten them all for breakfast.

Nick: Well, I won’t argue with that. My God, look at the size of him. Look at the size of Brandon Pierce for that matter – we’ve got nearly six hundred pounds in that ring, folks. Hold onto your hats.

As Chainz steps into the ring, his music begins to fade. Tracy holds the Intense title up to get a small pop from the crowd, but it’s mostly drowned out by the response to Chainz.

Nick: I’ll never understand that relationship.

Richard: You’re just not a romantic.

With both valets out of the ring, the two competitors stare each other down from their respective corners. Pierce’s eyes are intense while Chainz wears an evil grin.

Nick: That’s a sick, sick man, folks.

Richard: Which one?

Nick: I think you know which one.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick: We’re under way!

At that instant, Brandon Pierce storms across the cage and drives a powerful elbow into Chainz’s jaw.

Nick: Whoa! Are we ever! Nothing like a 280-pound bull coming at you to start the match!

Chainz, caught off guard, is rocked against the ropes where Pierce immediately takes him by the throat and begins raining down chops to his chest.

Nick: Pierce is showing right away that he’s not going to be intimidated by Chainz! It’s not often that he steps in against a larger man, and he’s taking the fight right to him!

Pierce whips Chainz toward the opposite ropes, and when the champ comes back, Pierce scoops him up and they roll in the air in a beautiful powerslam. Nearly six hundred pounds come crashing thunderously into the canvas.

Nick: This whole arena just shook! Wait a minute – he’s hooking a leg!!!

1!!


No!

Chainz pops up, still a bit dazed and surprised, but before can react, Pierce has already hit the ropes and is flying back for a big splash. It connects with more thunder, but Pierce doesn’t go for the pin this time. Instead, he pops quickly back to his feet and begins delivering rapid-fire boots to Chainz’s midsection. The beast rolls away to protect himself, and ultimately winds up underneath the bottom rope and dropping to the outside, where Tracy is waiting for him.

Nick: I don’t think Chainz is used to someone coming out firing at him quite like this, but Brandon Pierce is showing that he’s determined to make a name for himself here in PRIME! What a start!

In the ring, Pierce is amped, and he slaps the ropes to fire up the crowd behind him.

On the floor, Chainz is recovering while Tracy rubs his back. He turns his eyes toward the ring and the scowl that takes hold of his face could melt ice. He rises slowly from a knee and waits out there for a moment, letting the referee’s count rise. We can see the wheels turning in his head.

Richard: He’s not about to be caught off guard again. Brandon Pierce can thank his lucky stars that he got that much offence in – it’s all down hill from here.

Nick: Time will tell. Pierce looks pretty damn good right now.

Chainz takes the steps back up into the ring while Brandon Pierce waits on his haunches in the opposite corner. As soon as Chainz enters the ring, Pierce is off again, bulling forward. But Chainz is ready for him this time, and the pair of mammoths collide near the ropes in a flurry of fists, forearms, and elbows.

Nick: Look at them go at it! Every haymaker’s coming with nearly three hundred pounds behind it!

Richard: They’re going to need a lot of aspirin in the mor- OH! THAT’S BRAINS! THAT’S INTELLIGENCE RIGHT THERE!

Nick: Disgusting!

Back in the ring, Chainz is stalking forward while Brandon Pierce is stumbling away, holding his eyes – the latest victim of the cheap dreaded eye gouge.

Nick: See, that’s my problem with Chainz. The guy has all the physical gifts in the world, and yet he still plays dirty! The man actually enjoys damaging people! He’s not in it for the wins and losses.

Richard: Maybe not, but he’s racking wins up anyway. Size and strength are only going to get you so far in this game – it’s about being willing to go the extra mile! It’s about being willing to stick your thumb in another man’s eye socket!

Pierce is blinking furiously, recovering slowly, and when he turns around, he walks directly into meaty clothesline from the Intense champ. He crashes down to the mat on his back, and Chainz immediately is on top of him, straightening out Pierce’s arm and dropping hanging knees onto his shoulder joint.

Nick: Looks like Chainz is targeting that shoulder. Along with pure power, he tends to try to take people apart methodically.

Richard: Like a surgeon with a chainsaw.

Nick: Keylock now.

With Pierce’s arm straightened, Chainz patiently slips his free hand underneath, grabs his own wrist, and uses his body wait to turn the arm. Pierce struggles, but flailing with his own free arm, but to no avail.

Nick: You can see the pain in Brandon Pierce’s face, but he’s not about to give up.

Richard: He’s about to give up the use of his right arm for the rest of his life. Chainz is going to tear it off his body.

Finally, one of Pierce’s swings connects with Chainz’s ear, and it buys him a moment to lean forward and wrap his free arm around the champion’s neck. He begins pulling back, trying to pry the beast off his arm. But a moment later, Chainz gives up the hold to jam an elbow into Pierce’s face. Even while dazed, Pierce manages to roll out of harm’s way. Meanwhile, Chainz gets to his feet.

Nick: Close call for Brandon Pierce there. The last place you want to be with Chainz is locked in one of his submission holds.

Richard: The last place you want to be with Chainz is in the ring.

An instant later, Pierce is on his feet, and again he’s rushing at Chainz! He catches the champ with a forearm to the face this time, and Chainz, stumbles toward the corner!

Nick: I can’t believe this! What intensity! Pierce can’t be fully recovered and he’s already going right after Chainz!

He wallops Chainz with a right hand and then another. Chainz tries to respond with one of his own, but Pierce closes the distance and fires a crunching headbutt that crosses the champ’s eyes.

Nick: OH!!!

Richard: That’s dirty! DISQUALIFY HIM! DISQUALIFY THAT MAN!

Chainz is still on his feet, but he’s clearly seeing stars if he’s conscious at all. Before we find out either way, Pierce hits the closest ropes to the corner, does a small turn and slams into Chainz with a massive clothesline! The champ rolls over the top rope and spills out onto the floor.

Nick: WOW! This crowd is really getting behind Brandon Pierce! What a performance! What a – OH MY GOD!!!

Richard: HE DID NOT JUST DO THAT!!!

He did – two hundred and eighty pounds leaping over the top rope and crashing into Chainz on the floor below. Tracy narrowly gets out of harm’s way and watches in shock as Brandon Pierce picks himself up. The champ is so dazed now that it’s not clear if he really knows where he is.

PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT!

Nick: Good God! Two hundred and eighty pounds! Do we have a replay of that?

On a split screen, we again see the action from moments ago – Brandon Pierce slingshotting himself over the top rope and crashing shoulder-first into Chainz (on one knee) on the outside.

Nick: He didn’t come here to be number eight on Chainz’s list! He came here to win, and he’s pulling out all the stops!

Pierce pulls the groggy champ to his feet, takes his arm, and whirls around, firing the champ chest-first into the side of the ring. Chainz stumbles backward, only to have Pierce wrap an arm around the front of his neck from behind and deliver a devastating inverted DDT!

Nick: I don’t know how much more Chainz can take! Brandon Pierce is out here to make a statement tonight!

Richard: Get up, champ!

But Chainz doesn’t seem to be able to. His eyes are open but unfocussed. Again, Brandon Pierce picks the beast up to his feet, and this time he rolls him beneath the bottom rope and back into the ring. He follows him in and after a pair of knees to Chainz’s back, drags him up once more.

Nick: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! He’s going for the finish! This crowd is going nuts!

Richard: NO!

Nick: The streak is ending! The Devastator! Here it comes! Here it – OH!!!!

Low blow.

Richard: YES! BRAINS! BRAINZ!

Brandon Pierce stumbles away, doubled over, while Chainz falls back over onto his side, still shaking his head and trying to gather his wits. A moment later, Pierce is bulling toward him again, but this time, Chainz is ready for him, even on his knees. He spins away but leaves a leg behind, just enough to trip Pierce and leave him falling toward the corner. Before he has time to react, Chainz is already on top of him, flattening Pierce’s body, chest-down, and sitting low on his back.

Richard: Camel Clutch!

It starts out that way, but a moment later, Chainz transitions into a hammer lock, wrenching Pierce’s right arm behind his back.

Nick: After all that, Chainz is right back on that arm. He’s looking to injure it – to give himself a target.

Richard: It’s never been about that with Chainz, Nick. He’s looking to hurt that man, and he figures that arm is the most vulnerable thing at the moment.

A moment later, Pierce gets a hand out and grabs the bottom rope. Of course, Chainz takes a 4 ¾ count before he gives up the hold. On his feet now, Chainz delivers a series of stomps into the back of Pierce’s shoulder before pulling him to his feet. He rattles off a series of chops that back Pierce up into the ropes and then…

Richard: IT’S OVER!!

Brandon Pierce is lying in a heap at the champ’s feet.

Nick: SPINE BUSTER OUT OF NOWHERE FROM CHAINZ!

Chainz kneels down slowly and rests his knees on Brandon Pierce’s chest. The referree drops down for the count.



1!!





2!!!




NO!!!!



Nick: Pierce gets a shoulder up! He’s determined to get the W tonight! Determined to break the streak!

Chainz looks frustrated, but a little amused as well – a kick out means more pain to inflict. He moves toward the corner to exchange a few words with Tracy on the outside, when suddenly…

Nick: WAIT A MINUTE! ROLL UP PIN!

Chainz crashes down on his shoulder with Pierce popping up with plenty of leverage. Chainz’s massive legs wave in the air while he tries to get something of a center of gravity. The referee is in position…


1!!





2!!!




3-NO!!!


Nick: How close was that!?

Richard: Chainz kicked out! Chainz kicked out!

Both men scramble apart, and when they come together again, Chainz throws a clothesline, but Pierce gets underneath. He’s off to the ropes! When he comes back around, Chainz bends down for a back body drop, but Pierce, with surprising agility, tumbles over top of him for a sunset flip!


1!!




2!!





3-NO!!!!

Nick: He kicked out again! Pierce is pulling out all the stops.

As soon as they’re up, Pierce is off and to the ropes again. He comes flying at Chainz this time, elbow out, but Chainz is just quick enough to lean back out of the way and send Pierce off to the opposite ropes. Pierce comes leaping off with a cross body block! But Chainz sees it coming.

Richard: POWERSLAM!

Nick: Out of nowhere! He hooks the leg!


1!!



Richard: It’s going to end the same way it started!




2!!!




Nick: Come on, Pierce!




3-NO!!!



The kick out comes very late, but in time to save the match for Brandon Pierce. He gets up slowly, and then explodes into a wild right hand that breezes by Chainz’s nose. The champ whirls Pierce completely around, and when they come face to face again, Chainz drives a boot into his gut. Quicker than anyone can imagine, he hoists Brandon Pierce into the air and slams him into the mat. Powerbomb.

Nick: I can’t believe how fast that was! Brandon Pierce is a massive man!

Richard: And now he’s a massive heap! Lets see number two!

Chainz takes his time with the second powerbomb. He pulls Pierce’s ragged body up and he seems to take great pleasure in hoisting him up the second time – he holds him there for a moment. The impact of the second powerbomb gives you a new respect for the craftsmanship of the PRIME ring.

Pierce isn’t moving.


1!!




2!!!





3!!!


Richard: Number eight! The body count is up to eight!

"My Gift to You" by Korn

Nick: Chainz was awfully impressive in victory, but how about Brandon Pierce’s performance? Despite the defeat, he took the fight to Chainz all night long, and nearly pulled of a stunning win in the final seconds.

In the ring, Chainz appears to be contemplating inflicting a little more damage, but when he feels Tracy’s hand on his back, he soon follows her out of the ring and up the ramp.

Nick: Folks, we'll be right back after another quick commercial break.

"What's the matter, big guy?"

A comment like that would cause most people to do a double take, since the person we see the question is being directed to happens to be Tony Gamble. Big guy and Gamble are rarely ever used in the same sentence, unless his wife is in the room and making the comment. Patronizing as it is, the words do actually stand true for once. You see, the person asking the question goes by the name of 'Burgundy', and happens to be one of the members of Gamble's Oompa Loompa entourage.

It is a long fall from his former employment as a member of the EPW roster when he and his partner - the other Oompa Loompa - went by the name of Rollin Large. While hardly a secret, the two don't go flaunting the fact they could outwrestle half the tag teams on the roster. If those tag teams happened to be Wicked Ways, Copps and Robberson, and DUI.

Tony Gamble: Were you not watching the monitor a little while ago? Tyler Nelson already has his lackeys.

Burgundy: And?

Tony looks up wide eyed.

Tony Gamble: And... And? Are you kidding me? I have a match with him tonight, the guy that could be running PRIME by the end of the year. Do you realize how pissed he is going to be when I beat him tonight... What that does to my chances for challenging for something other than the Five Star title for the umpteenth time?

Burgundy: So that's why you've been trying to get out of the match?

Tony Gamble: Of course... not.

Tony stumbles through his sentence, the realization that no one ever knows when they are being watched washing over him like a Gatorade bath at the end of a college football game. Charlie Weisz wishes he knew what that felt like.

Burgundy: What?

Tony Gamble: My boo boo hurts.

Tony takes a hold of his finger, extending his arm toward Burgundy.

Tony Gamble: Go tell Tyler that I said if she comes and kisses it, maybe it will get all better and I'll be fine for my match.

Burgundy: You're kidding right?

The look on Tony's face, as his lips struggle to force a frown onto it say it all.

Burgundy: You're not kidding.

The shake of his head answers that one.

Burgundy: Dammit. FINE!

Burgundy mumbles something under his breath as he lowers his head and stomps slash shuffles out of the room.

Tony Gamble: Bring me back some ice, too!

He isn't sure if Burgundy heard him, but the knock on the door causes his eyes to light up like the strip on Las Vegas.

Tony Gamble: I just wanted you to bring me some ice.

Tony says the words with a genuine - albeit awkward looking - smile on his face. That is, until he realizes that he isn't looking into the eyes of his miniature counterpart, but the crotch of a dingy pair of jeans belonging to Christian Daniels.

Christian Daniels: Up here, shrimp.

Tony looks up into the eyes of the madman, glancing past the smirk that seems to be chiseled onto his stony features. Stony, not stoned.

Tony Gamble: I thought you were a midget.

"He said the same thing to me about you."

Standing just behind and to the left of Daniels is the 'Man in Black', Devin Shakur.

Tony Gamble: What up, G?

Oh, you'll see.

Nick and Richard are sitting ringside, amongst the crowd that's anxiously awaiting their next bit of entertainment.

Nick: We're still suffering the effects of Colossus VI hangover yet these people still can't get enough!

Richard: Savages... I can't wait for my head to hit the pillow tonight.

Nick: Well then moving on, we have...

The arena goes dark. The big screen lights up to snow and static.

Richard: We have a power problem. Let's go home!

Richard gets up from his chair but Nick drags him back down to his seat. The crowd looks on as the snow disappears from the screen, replaced by the following.





The screen quickly returns to static and the lights in the arena return.

Richard: What in the hell was that?

Nick: No idea, but apparently change is coming to PRIME in something like 50 days from now.

Richard: If it means I can get more sleep, it'll be a welcome change.

Knock. Knock.

"Little pig, little pig! Let me come iiiiin..."

The knocking startles him but the guttural threatening rhyme spooks him even more. Dropping his kit bag, the Symphony of Destruction approaches the locker room door and extends a hand to open it when it swings open and there standing before him is the giant Hessian, complete with Elite Title.

Hessian: Bonsoir, sir.

Pierce takes a moment to gauge the situation, quite frankly he isn't in the mood for any of Hessian's fun and games. Needless to say the Elite Title that is draped lovingly over the rugged shoulder of Hessian drew his attention.

Pierce: Whatever you're here for make it quick. I haven't got time for your games tonight.

Hessian: Just thought I'd pop by and congratulate you on your match tonight. You put on a good show.

Pierce stares into Hessian's eyes but gains nothing. The Murder Show seems almost vacant, airheaded almost.

Pierce: Thanks, I do what I can.

Hessian smiles contently, then glances around the locker room.

Hessian: Say, you wouldn't happen to know where Meat is would you? I asked an intern where his locker room was and they said something about Brandon Pierce, didn't really catch what exactly, my title was casting too much of a glow for me to properly ingest what they were putting my way, y'know? Is he around?

Lurching forwards in a move of anger and mostly stupidity Pierce wraps a hand around Hessian's throat and stares with a fiery intensity into Hessian's eyes. The Elite Champion doesn't flinch, even maintaining his cheeky grin while Pierce squeezes his hand around Hessian's throat.

Pierce: Meat's not here any more there is only me, you got that?

Hessian: (Squeakily voiced) Well if you see him around can you tell him I'm looking for him? I like his style so I got him an Elite Title shot, urgh...can you loosen your grip?

Gradually Pierce lets go of his grip, half out of interest at what Hessian has just said and half because common sense was beginning to prevail.

Pierce: What are you talking about?

Hessian: (Massaging his neck) Like I said tough guy, I thought Meat put in a hell of a show before that minge-wipe Douglas pinned him. I put in a good word and got my first defence granted against him. So if you see him can you point him in my direction?

Pierce, beginning to sense more than a little bit of sarcasm in Hessian's voice, sneers and shakes his head at him.

Pierce: Didn't you hear what I said? I said he's not here any more. He's no longer on the payroll. It's just me!

The Murder Show sighs and places his hands on his hips. He starts to turn as if to exit, but slowly turns his head back and stares at Pierce.

Hessian: Oh...alright. Soooo......I'll just go..and uhh...cancel that match then. Shame, he was a class act. Y'know you look kinda like him.

Pierce: Probably because I was him. Change of name, change of identity and more importantly a change of attitude. Now if you are done why don't you go and shine up that title nice and bright, looks just about big enough for your ego after all.

The Murder Show takes the insult as a compliment and flashes a set of pearly whites through his bushy beard and pats his belt. Still not fully understanding Pierce's metamorphosis the Murder Show shrugs off any confusion and steps out of the locker room.

Hessian: Alright well good for you man. Keep up the good work and maybe some day we'll go toe to toe out in the ring, huh? Be safe.

Pierce: You too, that big shiny belt of yours is nothing more than a target. Watch your back.

With that the Murder Show takes off down the corridor while Pierce slams the door shut. As he paces down the empty hallway, he starts whistling "Tom Thumb" by The Piranhas with a spring in his step. As he turns a corner and starts down another length of corridor he-...

HOOHOOHOO HA! HA! HA!

All of a sudden a massive stuffed effigy falls from the girder-work that comprises the ceiling of the corridor. Flopping just off the ground Hessian stops dead in his tracks, his body chilling at the sudden fright as the impact of the drop triggers some kind of vocal device in the dummy. Catching his breath from the fright, Hessian sees a noose tied around the effigy's throat, with a photo print of his own face plastered across the faceless head of the dummy.

Hessian: Jesus CHRIST. Who the hell did that?! I nearly turned golden brown, texture like soup!

No answer. Staring up into the girders Hessian hears the pitter-patter of feet skittering across the iron and into the darkness. Another chill runs down his spine as he reaches up and grabs his picture from the dummy, and notices a message scrawled across where the face should be.

All debts paid in full.

Hessian: I don't owe anyone money. I'm a mercenary...how can I owe anyone money?

Crumpling up the picture, Hessian holds his chest as his heart pounds beneath the skin and carries on about his business, while up in the rafters a shadowy figure watches him disappear around another corner into another part of the arena.

Nick: Someone is going to regret making the mistake of stalking Hessian.

Richard: When they are in the grave, bank on it.

Nick: We'll be right back after another quick commercial break with Tyler Nelson vs Tony Gamble.

Backstage alliances are typically the norm around the wrestling business. Even the stingiest of characters often have to meet up with others in order to survive in the cut throat world where everybody is looking to get even the slightest edge over their competition. Throughout the annals, a plethora of alliances have come and gone. In PRIME, specifically, massive mergers have shaped the landscape and divided the roster when their inevitable split occurred. Those which rummage through the roster today will at some point find themselves put to the ultimate test. Menacing as it is, Chainz and Hessian will more than likely not last whenever their stocks reach the glass ceiling and one sees the other as an obstacle rather than a helping hand. The Wolves of Slaughter are on the verge of exploding, already the tag team champions and holders of a significant amount of weight in PRIME.

But there is one combination which has managed to last through the test of time. Even though they aren't featured prominently on camera anymore, these two were the original pranksters of PRIME and, when they desired to be, a feared entity throughout the locker room. Despite their joking nature, both have achieved multiple individual championships and could reasonably be seen as an all time dominant force.

We are, of course, talking about Devin Shakur...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And Tony Gamble.

LILBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The Grin is taking extra precautions, moments before his encounter with The Greediest Player in the Game, on his injured hand. A doctor cleared him to wrestle and Lisa Tyler demanded that Scarface step into the squared circle this evening, but The Grin has his reservations.

Tony Gamble: Lisa Tyler is a big stupid doo doo head.

Off in a far more sadistic and cruel world, Devin Shakur sits on the couch and facepalms behind his friend's back. Christian Daniels-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Pays the scene absolutely no mind, twirling a knife between his fingers.

Devin Shakur: You cannot be the same guy who headlined Culture Shock and UltraViolence 07.

Tony Gamble: Of course I am. This face

Gamble doesn't necessarily flash a smile because he's always forced to due to the scar.

Tony Gamble: Can never be imitated or duplicated.

Christian Daniels: (muttering under his breath) Not ta mention nobody'd wanna be dat damn short all'da fuckin time.

Tony Gamble: What's that?

Christian Daniels: Hmm?

Tony Gamble: Thought you said something.

Christian Daniels: Nope.

Tony Gamble: Anyway, you think I can't go out there and still bring the house down?

Devin Shakur: I doubt you remember what a hip toss is.

Tony Gamble: Of course I know what a hip toss is.

Devin Shakur: What is it then?

Tony Gamble: It's...Well...I toss someone at the hip.

Devin Shakur: Unlike kindergarten, I don't give effort points. You fail.

Tony Gamble: I'm facing someone who couldn't buy his way out of a wet paper bag-

Devin Shakur: Whereas you can't wrestle out of one.

Tony Gamble: Don't hate because you never got the chance to hold the Internet belt.

Devin Shakur: You are becoming washed up, man. I think I even see some gray hairs.

Tony Gamble: WHAT? DON'T BE PLAYIN!

Gamble frantically rushes over to a mirror and examines his dome meticulously for any signs of gray.

Tony Gamble: Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY? I can't be having this!

Devin Shakur: You don't have any. That was just a small mental test to see if you are close to ready, which you aren't.

Christian Daniels: 'N people wonder how we're still employed.

The Grin goes from freaking out about his gray hairs to ensuring that his injured finger is going to be ready.

Devin Shakur: How does a blister get you this tied up in knots?

Tony Gamble: My skin is a precious entity that can't be destroyed due to my several endorsement deals.

Devin Shakur: Wait...C, I think we are in the wrong locker room.

Christian Daniels: Ya think?

Devin Shakur: I'm sorry, Mr. Tsonda, we didn't mean to interrupt your beauty exercises. Let's go, C.

The insult resonates within Tony Gamble, somewhere deep down the competitor inside of him rumbles, yearns to be let out.

But the comedian on the outside doesn't translate the rumbling that well.

Tony Gamble: Why you gotta hate?

Devin Shakur: Just get ready because you got to figure out some kind of plan in the next few minutes if you want to bring home the bacon.

Tony Gamble: Bacon? Ooos, where?

Devin Shakur: Dugh. I'll see you after the match.

Shakur goes to exit, but pauses and asks Gamble one more question.

Devin Shakur: Before I go...Did you really knock over a kid in a wheelchair on the way out of the doctor's office?

Tony Gamble: Dude, I said left and he totally no sold me.

Devin Shakur: [sighs] Have fun out there, Gambs.

Shakur shuts the door while Gamble checks, makes sure nobody is there, and runs a few fingers through his scalp.

Tony Gamble: I might need some hairspray.

Nick: Tony Gamble still doesn't want to wrestle tonight. What a surprise.

Richard: He has a boo-boo, what do you expect? For someone to come out here under such grave conditions...Nothing short of heroic.

Nick: You can't be serious.

Richard: We need to throw a parade in his honor.

Nick: The man got a BLISTER opening a POWERADE bottle.

Richard: Dude, are you aware how malicious those bottles are? I've seen them cut so many down in their PRIME. I heard that's what made Angelo Deville retire-

Nick: I don't think that was-

Richard: And...I don't know if I should be letting this information out...It was the real cause of death for Rich Rollins.

Nick: Oh come on.

Richard: FIGHT ON, GAMBLE! BE STRONG, PLAYA!

Nick: We really need to go back to commercial free ReVolution. It's made Rich even more insane.

Richard: And the man he's facing this evening...An even bigger trooper.

Nick: Well, at least Tyler Nelson has something to hang his hat on. At Colossus VI, he managed an upset victory over Killean Sirrajin after withstanding a Supreme Machine.

Richard: It's one hundred percent heart, baby.

Nick: Stop stealing Terry Tate promotional lines.

Richard: Tony Gamble bout to find out tonight that when it's GAME TIME...IT'S PAIN TIME BABY! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOO!

Nick lets out a monstrous sigh and points up to Vince Howard, who takes his cue and looks toward the camera.

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and has a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from the overhead compartment on your flight, weighing in at 187 pounds...TONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GAMBULLLLLL!

An old school hip hop beat begins to play through the Public Announce System of the arena. While the music is new, the man that steps out from behind the curtain is someone very familiar. Wearing a grin the size of Texas, and an ego twice the size of Canada, Tony Gamble stands at the top of the ramp and stares out into the sea of fans chanting his name.

*ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!*

## Life's got me mad
But if I had a midget I'd be glad
To watch him jump around on my nintendo powerpad
He'd have a big head short legs and long torso
The name that I give my pet midget is little Gordo
I'd teach him tricks like backflips and side kicks
When company came over he'd perform and get tips
While I'm eatin at night, in the kitchen he'd be able
To get the food scraps that I threw under the table
If my midget was ever bad and acted enraged
Then I'd take him to the bathroom and put him in his cage ##

Confident that he has soaked up enough of the crowd's cheers, The Grin marches proudly down the small portion of ramp. Up above his head on the Wal*tron, footage from Revolution 94 when Gamble locked The Illustrious Face Eater into his 'Smile For Me' submission and won the Internet Title plays.

## But If he kept acting up and really made me sick
I'd hang him upside down and poke him with a stick
Little Gordo would be good most of the time though
He'd like to wear a helmet and run around yelling Kaiyo
I'd take him for walks in the park on the weekends
And if he saw other midgets he'd say Can we be friends ##

Tony takes his time walking up the ring steps, staring into the ring for a few seconds with his left hand on the top rope, before ducking between the top and middle rope to step into the ring. The Wal*tron now shows footage from Revolution 106, where Gamble slams Kenjiro Ito face first into the mat with his 'Stop Laughing At Me' signature move.
## He'd only need a 3 foot coffin when he was dead
And he'd be in the guiness book for the world's biggest head
What a funny little fellow, but don't call him a shrimp
Or he'll attack your leg cause Gordos a tough gimp
He'd have a pogo ball that he'd bounce on for hours
And dirty little fathead Gordo would'nt take showers
When Halloween came, he wouldn't be a chump
Gettin all the candy goin round as a tree stump ##

Tony stands in the center of the ring, arms spread out toward the corners of the ring as he circles slowly. Another clip shows on the Wal*tron, this one from the Great American Nightmare; where Tony Gamble became the Five Star Champion by pinning Chandler Tsonda.
## Midget is a midget
Midget Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Midget
Midget is a midget
Hey you guys- Word
Midget is a midget
Midget Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Midget
Midget (wo-wo-wo-wo-word) is a midget
Like a midget in a urinal, I was gonna have to stay on my toes ##

Gamble drops his arms and starts bouncing from one foot to another like a boxer as he backpedals toward his corner.

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

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: And here he comes. Tyler Nelson. UNDEFEATED this year.

Nick: He's only had two matches.

Richard: And he's won both of them, against two Hall of Famers. Retire now and go out at the top of your game.

Nick: No way is Nelson going to do that. He wants to dethrone Lisa Tyler before he steps away from PRIME again.

Richard: And that is only going to take a matter of time.

Nick: Not if she books him against more menacing competition.

Richard: Are you implying Tony Gamble is not menacing?

Nick: A spider is more frightening than Gamble.

The Greediest Player in the Game steps out to a raucously negative crowd response. The more things change, the more they stay the same. He makes a slow march down to the ring, flipping off a small child. In fairness, the kid's sign does say "My Father is Named Al Bundy but I'm Richer than Tyler Nelson".

Richard: Hey, David Faustino got a ticket to the show. Glad to see him around again.

Vince Howard: The following match is for one fall! Coming first to the ring...weighing in at 225 pounds...from Dallas, Texas, The Greediest Player in the Game...TYLEEEEEEEEEEEEEER NELSON!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Tyler Nelson steps into the squared circle and stares across at The Grin.

Nick: This is one of those rare instances where Nelson is going to have a size and power advantage over his opposition, and maybe even a talent edge.

Richard: You are looking at a former Internet champion, Richard. He almost defeated Nova twice to become the Universal Champion.

Nick: In 2007.

Richard: Doesn't change the fact that when he brings the A game, Gamble is one of the most lethal personalities on the PRIME roster.

Nick: Maybe he'll have Shakur come out and kick Nelson in the head, that'll even up the odds.

DING! DING! DING!

Tyler Nelson and Tony Gamble glance back and forth, gauging crowd reaction and their opposition. Neither man is particularly fond of wrestling one another this evening. It was fine when The Greediest Player in Game was able to wrestle with all the tricks up his sleeve, but now he's been thrown out with no Mr. Simmons against a technical wizard in Tony Gamble. Meanwhile, The Grin is keeping his injured hand behind his back, not wishing to glorify the damage already done and perhaps actually breaking something.

Nick: This one ought to be damn entertaining. These guys really look ready for an all out barnburner.

Richard: Two men with such auras of greatness should not have to demean themselves in this fashion.

The Grin and CEO meet in the center of the ring and have a running conversation amidst Elvis Nixon's urge for them to lock up. Neither man pays the cult hero referee any mind and continue their discussion. Gamble and Nelson are both motioning toward the ground and looking at the other one.

Nick: What could they be discussing?

Richard: Probably working out the details of a joint lawsuit against Lisa Tyler for unsafe working conditions.

Nick: Unsafe working conditions?

Richard: That ring is a hazard just waiting to ruin the career of an upcoming prospect or veteran.

Nick: We've been a company for over five years and the ring is just now becoming an issue?

Richard: All the wear and tear has made it that much bigger of a hazard.

Elvis Nixon again interjects and demands that the disgruntled veterans lock horns, but both extend hands and shove him into the ropes. A jam packed Honda Center lets the duo in the ring know how they feel.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Over 17,000 plus letting their voices be heard.

Richard: And yet not a single one matters.

Nick: They are the ones keeping PRIME afloat.

Richard: Wrong, my sexy calendars are keeping PRIME afloat.

Nick: How many storage sheds do you have for those now?

Richard: [Sigh] 14

Gamble and Nelson take a step back and jump in place, pumping themselves up for what is sure to be an odd but exciting meeting of the minds.

Nick: I never thought they'd get away from each other long enough-

Gamble and Nelson slam their right fist into their open left hand three times and present identical hand gestures.

Nick: What in the world is this?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: Oh this is going to be a gem, folks. Gamble V Nelson in the classic and universally recognized game of skill, Rock, Paper, Scissors~!

Nick: There is no way we can provide commentary for such a travesty.

Richard: Speak for yourself. Alright, here we go, Gamble and Nelson Round 2. THEY SMACK ONCE! THEY SMACK TWICE! OH MY GOD WHAT ARE THEY GONNA-OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! DOUBLE PAPER! LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THAT AGAIN!

The PRIME*Vision Instant Replay: Tony Gamble sneaks a glance at Tyler Nelson just before they have to reveal their play in an attempt to get a read on what he might throw down. He can see the dollar signs in Nelson's eyes and opts for paper.

THIS IS BULLSHIT! CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP
THIS IS BULLSHIT! CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP
THIS IS BULLSHIT! CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP

Nick: I'm pretty inclined to agree with the masses on this.

Richard: Do you know the history behind Rock, Paper, Scissors and PRIME? It's how Clyde Walkins actually won the Universal Championship against Tchu.

Nick: How do you-

Richard: It's how Devin Shakur beat Cozen and Lindsay Troy at UltraViolence 08 because honestly who is gonna wanna break that up rather than look for a hand held camera?

Nick: I'm wondering how long it will take for Lisa Tyler to come out here and stop this catastrophe.

Richard: She knows a good battle when she sees one, and folks this is legen...wait for it...dary. Tony Gamble, a once great champion of the hand and Tyler Nelson, recognized around the world as perhaps the most evil person in the business of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Both lives hang in the balance.

Gamble and Nelson eyeball one another intensely, refusing to wipe the sweat off their brows because neither wants to show any weakness. Each raises their hands up one more time and drop them three quick times, perhaps hoping to seize a false start out of the other so defeat can be declared.

Nelson throws his hand out, waiting until the last moment possible to reveal his choice.

Gamble sees Nelson and looks to invoke a little bit of roulette magic, switching his hand shape around after the fact.

But, once again, its the same choice.

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

They both low blowed each other. Neither man can help themselves from falling to the canvas and clutching their boys. Gamble, for one reason or another, does a Dwayne Johnson Stunner backflip and flails his legs about while grasping his package. Camera 4 gets a close up shot of the crooked face of The Grin.

Tony Gamble: IT HURTS LIKE THE DICKENS...THE DICKENS! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Tyler Nelson rolls around and forth like a turtle on its back, pounding the mat and looking for some relief. He screams out for Mr. Simmons to rush down the ramp with an ice pack, but the body guard is no where to be found.

Nick: Well, I can definitely say this match might be worse than the Fingerpoke of Doom.

Richard: Are you insane? We had colorful entrances, a white hot game of Rock, Paper, Scissors and now two men who are giving it ALL for the sport they love. What more can you expect out of a ReVolution match?

Nick: Some actual wrestling?

Richard: That's the problem with you greedy folks, never can appreciate what you get, always gotta want more.

Nelson and Gamble continue their overselling long enough for Elvis Nixon to shrug his shoulders and lay down the count.

Richard: If they are smart enough then they should stay down, both get counted out, and declare the match a No Contest. How much do you think that would irk the boss?

Nick: I can't imagine she would be too happy with either individual.

Elvis looks at both men and shouts "ONE". He waits another second and it appears the idea Richard just spoke of has hit both Nelson and Gamble, who nod to one another and stay on their backs.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX!"

Nick: I can't believe Lisa Tyler is getting treated like this.

Richard: If you are capable of being called the Female Hitler by your roster, I don't think anybody should be surprised when people you hate refuse to work.

"SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE!"

Nick: You can't be ser-

Elvis Nixon is just about to tell the timekeeper to ring the bell when the PRIME*View lights up.

"Hold it, right there!"

Tyler Nelson cringes when he hears the voice of Da Boss.

Lisa Tyler: If you two imbeciles think for one second I'm going to allow such tomfoolery on my program then both of you are dumber than I took you for. I am going to count to five and if both of you elect to stay down, I'm going to call Hessian and Chainz out and book a Last Team Standing match.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: See, nothing but pure dictatorship right there!

Lisa Tyler: ONE...TWO...

Tyler Nelson shoots up to his knees and screams "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!". Gamble sighs and pats his band-aid.

Lisa Tyler: THREE...FOUR...F-

Gamble and Nelson rise to their feet and reluctantly look over at one another to lock up. The stern glare of Lisa Tyler is unsettling to Gamble, since he is the one facing the PRIME*View. He moves forward and backs Nelson into the corner. Gamble glances over at the View and breaths a sigh of relief when the visage of Lisa Tyler dissipates.

"OOF!"

Nelson noticed the distraction and used it to his advantage, kicking Gamble in the package and rolling him up in a small package (I make myself laugh sometimes).

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble somehow thrusts a shoulder out and struggles to his feet. Nelson puts a boot into the ribs and drops a double ax handle across The Grin's back. Gamble goes down to the canvas but Nelson yanks him back up and smoothly lands a knife edge chop in the corner. He gets absolutely no "WOOOOOOOOOO" in response. So he does it again. And once again, squadush. Extending a middle finger to the crowd, Nelson clutches Gamble's wrist and fires him into the buckle. The Grin holds onto the arm and displays his technical wrestling prowess, ducking underneath the clothesline of Nelson, snaking behind him and locking him in an abdominal stretch.

Nick: Even though he's a through and through jokester, Gamble still has one of the most technically sound minds of the PRIME roster. Not many people can put a submission hold on better than The Grin.

Richard: It's about time you gave the man some props after all the haterade you drink.

Nick: At least I don't get blisters when I open the bottle.

Richard: Powerade is the stuff of legends and you know it. All the former Intense Champions chug a bottle before matches.

Nelson looks to flip Gamble over, but The Grin has stuck his available foot underneath the bottom rope, unbeknown to Elvis Nixon. Nelson is having his rib cage worked on and finds it impossible to escape from the hold.

Nick: Gamble is also one of the most prolific cheaters in the game.

Richard: There is no other way to go about a successful wrestling career unless you cheat at some point.

It is then The Greediest Player in the Game gets a novel idea. He looks up at Elvis Nixon and tells him of the observations.

Tyler Nelson: He's cheating! He's got his foot under the rope. Break the hold.

Gamble's eyes go big and he quickly slips away from the ropes, shaking his head at Elvis when he tries to inquire about whether or not The Grin was cheating. The Greediest Player in the Game seizes the opportunity given and flies off the ropes. Gamble wants a band-aid change because his hand is getting sweaty.

Instead, he receives a massive helping of clothesline right across his throat.

Nick: Supreme Justice! Tyler Nelson...What a disgrace.

Richard: Paying homage to the man who dropped that move on him a few times. You never have to ask Nelson to stay classy.

Nick: And he's going to try and end this one with a cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

But much like at CVI, Gamble is able to avoid defeat by sticking his foot underneath the bottom rope. Nelson looks over at Elvis and shouts that he doesn't know how to count to three. Elvis, never one to pass up the opportunity to act like a complete douche, reaches into his pocket and pulls out three one dollar bills. He counts out the first, second, and third ones. Nelson gives him the third finger on his hand and gets back to work, bouncing off the side ropes and landing a swinging neckbreaker on The Grin. Nelson drops down for another cover, shifting his body toward the ropes so Gamble doesn't have anywhere to stick his leg.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Nelson also uses the advantage and puts his own feet on the ropes.

Richard: This is going to be such a huge win for Nelson!

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble manages to defeat the stacked deck and kick out at three. Nelson sighs and wipes the sweat from his brow, slowly rising from the canvas with The Grin in tow. He lands an elbow across the top of the head and fires Gamble shoulder first into the turnbuckle. Gamble's shoulder smacks the steel and The Permascar Superstar recoils into Nelson's telegraphed low blow.

Nick: How many of these can even someone with Gamble's...testicular fortitude withstand?

The Grin senses the move coming and is able to grab Nelson's foot before it reaches his genitals. He uses the wheel to pull Nelson down onto the canvas, spin around and lock in a Figure Four leg lock on The Greediest Player in the Game.

Richard: The former Internet Champion showing everybody that he's got some wrestling cells running through that brain of his.

Nick: That figure four is locked in pretty tight and Nelson doesn't have the massive reach to get near the ropes.

Nelson rises up to a sitting position, avoiding the pinfall, and wails in agony. Elvis asks if he wants to submit and, being the former CEO that he is, Nelson tells him to shove it. Gamble locks his legs even tighter and prods Nelson with a massive slap across the face. There's nothing Nelson can do to swing around or out of the hold at the moment. His shoulders drop to the canvas and Elvis counts.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nelson grunts and groans as his shoulders rise from the canvas. Gamble extends his finger forward and thumbs Nelson in the eye. Elvis observes the illegal move and forces The Grin to break the hold, even though he claims there was something in Nelson's eye and he was just trying to be a gent and get it for him.

Nick: We all know Nelson as greedy, but that time Gamble's desire to cheat got the better of him.

Richard: He put that blistery and disgusting finger right in the face of Tyler Nelson. That can't be good for his vision.

Elvis untangles the superstars legs and motions them back to action. Gamble is the first one to his feet and grabs the right arm of Nelson, spins around, rolls Nelson onto his side, and spins him up into a La Magistral cradle roll.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nelson pushes his shoulders back and weasels his way out of the pinning predicament. Tony Gamble stalks forward, pulling Nelson from the canvas and sticking out a finger from each hand. He wets them with saliva and gives Nelson the dreaded and feared double Wet Willy.

Richard: OHHHHHH! THE AGONY!

Nick: How in the hell is that a wrestling maneuver.

Richard: This is a submission and Nelson can't hear the referee asking if he wants to give up.

Nick: He's too busy marching in place, hopping around like a jumping bean.

Gamble uses the opportunity to snake his leg around Nelson's and drives him backwards with a Russian leg sweep. Cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nelson shoots his legs out just before the three count to the amazement of Richard Parker.

Richard: Tyler Nelson...is...not...human. He just kicked out of the Wet Willy/Russian leg sweep combination.

The Grin sighs and keeps himself on the offensive, rising up and firing Nelson into the ropes. The Grin charges ahead, looking for a running Northern light suplex. Nelson watches Gamble's head drop to the canvas and slams his knee forward, sending The Grin back toward the ropes. Gamble's momentum carries him into the center of the ring and a devastating eye rake from The Greediest Player in the Game.

Richard: Nelson looking to gain some momentum with that eye rake.

Nick: The logic of this match was lost when the bell rang.

Nelson taunts the crowd and brings Gamble around into a side head lock, jabbing his thumb into the throat of The Grin. Tony looks to escape out the back door, but Nelson uses his weight advantage for the first time and rushes ahead, landing a bulldog. Gamble's head spikes from the canvas, putting him in optimal pinning position for Nelson.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble slips a shoulder out. Nelson clutches the short hair of The Grin and brings him up to a standing position. After Irish whipping Gamble, Nelson sets himself up in the middle of the ring. His head drops at exactly the right time, allowing Gamble to get the maximum elevation while Nelson rotates his body around for the Money in the Bank spinning spinebuster. Nelson rushes off the side ropes and plants an elbow into Gamble's sternum before looking for another cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble fires a shoulder out one more time. Nelson looks out to the crowd and motions that the match is on the verge of termination. He hoists Gamble up by the arms and catches him with a swift low blow unseen by the eyes of Elvis. The Greediest Player in the Game props Gamble on the second rope and decks Scarface good with a right hand across the jaw. Nelson scales the ropes and delivers an elbow strike before positioning himself on the top with Gamble.

Nick: This could be a high impact maneuver coming up, although knowing Nelson he would probably just low blow Gamble on the way down.

Richard: The last of his trademark moves coming up right here.

Nelson cradles Gamble's head into his arm and falls backwards, contorting his body so that he lands atop Gamble once both superstars slam into the mat.

Richard: Hostile Takeover! Cover from Nelson!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Gamble tries to slip out the side door and sticks his legs up. Nelson uses the advantage and locks the tights.

Nick: NELSON HAS THE TIGHTS!

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nick: GAMBLE REVERSES AND NOW HE'S GOT THE TIGHTS!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Richard: OH NO'S!

DING! DING! DING!

Gamble slithers out of the ring and jumps up and down in front of a group of children, taunting and prodding them, shouting "I DID IT! I DID IT!" Elvis Nixon begrudingly walks over and raises Gamble's hand into the air. It's his injured hand, but like a true warrior of the street, Gamble doesn't flinch. He does hope that Shakur brought a lolly though because the pain is excruciating.

Vince Howard: Your winner of the match...TONYYYYYYYYYYY GAMBLEEEEEEEE!

Richard: I think we all know what this means.

Nick: It just goes to show what happens when two heels get into the ring. One is going to come out the winner via cheating.

Richard: No. It actually means that now Gamble > Nelson > Sirrajin > Tsonda. Gamble is better than the longest reigning Universal Champion and the Grand Slam Champion of PRIME.

Nick: You are a pathetic mark, Richard.

Richard: A mark for greatness and that is what Gamble has achieved here tonight, picking up a crucial victory.

The look on Tyler Nelson's face says it all. What in the hell just happened and what have I gotten myself into?

Mr. Simmons, now free from the oppressive stare of Lisa Tyler, walks out and lends Nelson some support, but its safe to say he's not a happy camper.

Nick: Ladies and gentlemen, we at PRIME are very excited to tell you about the upcoming release of the autobiography of one of our most popular stars. "Bumpy Road: The Troy Douglas Story" hits shelves worldwide - not to mention ShopPRIME.com - on Sept. 15.

Richard: A roller coaster ride I couldn't put down.

Nick: You haven't read it yet.

Richard: And I won't.

Nick: Anyway, in advance of the book's release, Troy has granted a rare, exclusive and very personal interview with our own Matt Mills. Over the next several weeks, will be bringing it to you here on ReVolution as a multi-part series. Here is the first installment...

The scene shifts to a comfortable sitting room, where both Douglas and Mills each sit on leather armchairs. In the space between them is a brand-new LCD TV proudly flashing the PRIME logo, along with various PRIME highlights.

Mills: Troy, I'd like to thank you for granting me this interview.

Douglas: No problem, Matt.

Mills: Now, you've been notoriously shy about discussing many details of your private life with the media, a few well-documented episodes aside. Why choose now to write this book, and grant this interview?

Troy unfolds his hands, leaning forward in his chair.

Douglas: There's really no complicated answer, Matt. I've had this story in me for a long time, I thought it was about time I told it. To be honest, I just started writing down a few things one day, spitballing some memories, and before you know it, there's a book deal in place. It's been a pretty long process, but everything's done now, and we're all set and excited for the release.

Mills: As are we at PRIME.

Douglas: Well, you are distributing it.

The two both chuckle for a moment, but quickly regain their composure.

Mills: Well, Troy, during the course of this session, we really want to give the PRIME audience a closer look at your life, from childhood to now.

Douglas: Then let's start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.

Mills: Alright, then. Tell us a little bit about growing up. You were born in Greensboro?

Douglas: Yeah, right in the heart of wrestling country. Guess it was kinda predetermined from the start that I'd end up here.

Mills: And your parents?

Douglas: Well ... I never really knew my mother. From what my dad told me years later, it was a pretty rough pregnancy. They'd tried to have kids for a few years, and already had two miscarriages when I came around. Mom ... umm ... she got real, real sick at the latter stages, and about six days after I was born, she passed away.

Douglas looks down for a moment, pausing, before looking straight back at Mills.

Douglas: You know, that's something I've never mentioned in public before.

Mills: Well, thank you, then. That must've been an incredibly difficult time for your father.

Douglas: It was, but Jack Douglas wasn't the kind of guy who was ever going to let something like that stop him. My father ... after all these years, I still don't know how he did it.

Mills: Did what?

Douglas: Kept his sanity. He was a history teacher and a basketball coach, not to mention a single father, and he was great at all of it without ever complaining. Y'know, a lot of people seem surprised that I'm not more depressed about what happened to my mother, but I've never thought of it that way. I wouldn't be who I am without the way my father raised me, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Mills: So, your father never remarried.

Douglas: Nope. Always said he never would, and he never did. Friends tried to set him up ... they begged him to get in a relationship, but he never did. He said we were just fine the way we were, and I took his word for it. That's the thing with my father ... you could trust him implicitly. It's why he was such a good teacher, and such a great coach.

Mills: Speaking of coaching, you did play under your father, right?

Douglas: Yeah. Four years of high school basketball. I grew up my entire life wanting to play for him, and when I finally got to ninth grade and made the team -- and trust me, it helped that I was already 6'3" -- I just couldn't believe it. Hell, after everything I've done in my life, playing in the NFL, winning wrestling titles all over the world, I still think the thing I'm proudest of is winning my dad a state championship my senior year.

Mills: But, basketball wasn't your only sport.

Douglas: Nah, and, to be honest, it wasn't my best one, either. Football was my calling - at least I thought so at the time. Basketball was dad's love, and it's got that soft, special, gooey place in my heart, but there was something about football, about that raw physical contact and the struggle of it all that drew me to it.

Mills: Maybe it's the same thing that drew you to wrestling.

Douglas: Maybe, maybe you're on to something there.

Mills: Speaking of wrestling, you mentioned it earlier, growing up in Greensboro, was wrestling always a part of your life?

Douglas: From day one, pretty much. Dad was always a fan, and as a kid, he'd take me to shows on the weekends whenever he could. Became a regular ringside at the Coliseum, and once we had cable, every Saturday night I plunked myself in front of the TV, lying on the floor in front of the couch, elbows propped up, same every week.

Mills: And then, of course, you went to a very historic show.

Douglas: Indeed I did. It was April of '88, I hadn't even turned 12 yet, but there was a start-up little company running in an old warehouse that, for all intents and purposes, was basically in my backyard. It was that night when, after being a fan for so many years, that I really fell in love with this sport. It's that moment, as I watched Hornet and Joey Melton and Mark Windham on that very first CSWA show more than two decades ago, that served as my inspiration to get into wrestling when I couldn't play football any longer. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be that.

Mills: But it was football, after all, that got you to college, and later the NFL.

Douglas: Exactly. I'm still a proud Orangemen, even after the school dropped the "men" part. Those were four fantastic years of my life, four years I'll never forget, and if not for what I learned there, we're probably not talking about me, of all people, writing an honest-to-God autobiography. The NFL, well, my time in Eagle green was fun - if brief - but after that injury, after my neck and back went out, everything really became a blur on the road to what my true calling was.

Troy relaxes, and the shot changes to a series of still photos: Douglas in mid-tackle on the Veterans Stadium turf, Douglas being carted off the field on a golf cart, Douglas standing next to an attractive brunette, an engagement ring prominently displayed on her right hand.

Mills V/O: Next week, Troy and I discuss his devastating injury and long road to recovery, his entrance into the world of professional wrestling, and his relationship with his late fiancee.

"Kingdom of the Worm" by Motorhead

RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!

Nick: Wow! Would you listen to that reception!

Richard: Doesn't compare to the reception Hall of Famers get on their induction...

Nick: But boy is it close.

The 7'2" Murder Show appears on the stage with his title belt draped over his shoulder as it has been for most of the night. His normally sullen expression is gone, replaced with a cocky smirk that has been glued to his face, again for most of the night. The cheers get louder as he hits the ramp and raises the title for all to see.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome at this time...the PTC ELITE CHAMPIOOOOOON.........HESSIAAAAAAAAAAN!!

Nick: I don't think Hessian's had a reception like this since he came to PRIME!

Richard: He's a boo merchant.

Nick: He was until he annihilated his opponents in the Elite Title match at Colossus! Anybody that kicks SCCW's ass like that is gonna get cheers no matter who they are.

Hessian approaches the ring and steps up onto the apron, climbing over the top rope and jogging over to Vince Howard, who recoils when the Murder Show playfully shadow boxes him, faking a couple jabs to his ribs. Grinning confusedly, Howard provides him with the microphone and backs out of the ring leaving the Elite Champion to take in the refreshing cheers as he holds the belt aloft once more.

Nick: This seems like a new Hessian...

Richard: Maybe he just came off an eight month period?

Nick: Your world is twisted, you know that?

Eventually the cheering dies down and Hessian raises the mic.

Hessian: Hello ANAHEEEIIIIIM!!

A monstrous pop fills the arena.

Richard: Did he-...did he just go for a pop??

Nick: Apparently so Richard. This isn't the Hessian we know and loathe any more...

Hessian: You lucky, lucky people. The first stop after Colossus to behold the greatness of PRIME's first dual Five Star and Universal Champion...and the PTC Elite Champion under one roof!

Another cheer.

Hessian: The glory days are back! PRIME can hold its head up high from the shame of the past and say: We are BETTER than SCCW!

Nick: Hessian showing a lot of patriotism towards PRIME here. It seems his success at Colossus has gone straight to his head!

Richard: The one on his shoulders or the one between his legs?

Hessian: So when their sideshow rolls into Oakland on the 10th of September you take your asses up there and give 'em hell for PRIME! Two of their best walked into my house and ran their mouths about taking down a giant and proving how dominant they were. Desade get off on Aimz but it's obvious none of her talent seems to be "rubbing off" on the Spider. Full marks for trying though, you can take solace in the fact you're the only dyke capable of hanging tough with the Murder Show.

Some wolf whistles and mocking chortles emanate from the first several rows.

Hessian: And Wyatt Connors?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Nick: The Ana-PRIME chapter not fans of the Devil In The Details at all.

Richard: Ana-PRIME. Cute.

Hessian: ...More proof there's something in the water over in Vegas. Congratulations, short ass, on staving off the competition for nine whole months to remain Elite Champion. Steve Knox, Ruby and King Blueberry must have really taken you to your limits...

The Murder Show rolls his eyes sarcastically and grins once more.

Hessian: But hey I'm glad I could be the one to show you how much of a "Wise Guy" you really ain't.

Nick: Hessian really sticking it to the former Champion, adding insult to injury.

Hessian: See that's the thing about Hessian; I make things happen. I might not come close to having the same kind of reign that Connors did, but I'll go down in history as being the man who ended his prestigious reign. Let them throw their contenders at me, because win or lose that is my legacy. I defeated Wyatt Connors. One. Two. Three. Just like that. If I hold this title past a first, second or third defense then that's just a bonus. Like the old saying goes, "Take the boy and bring back the man". Well to PTC I say bring me your men and I'll send back the bodies. For you see...

The Murder Show licks his lips and saunters over to the corner, leaning on the turnbuckle and staring into the camera at ringside.

Hessian: PRIME, boys and girls, is Number One by Definition. How do we "define" that?

Ominously he rises up and holds the Elite Championship up for the camera and the fans to get a good look at.

Hessian: Because we are the Elite. Now!

He spins back to the middle of the ring and looks up the ramp.

Hessian: What does this mean for the number one federation in PTC? Well, the way I see it I can take my pick of who gets the honour of being my next victim. Do I...exact revenge on David Noble for side-lining my partner Nerezza?

RAAAAAHHHHHH!!

Nick: The fans like that idea.

Hessian: Do I...smack the Sex Panther out of Chandler Tsonda?

RAAAAAHHHHH!!

Richard: Oh they like that idea too...as gay as he made it sound.

Hessian: Or...do I stick my name in the hat for a shot at a certain Universal Champion?

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

Nick: We have a winner!

Richard: Hessian versus Snow? Elite versus Universal? Can it be done?!!

Hessian: Na. As tempting as that would be I don't think Snow's on the same level as the Elite Champion. Maybe I could...

A burst of static fills the air. Hessian continues to speak though no sound comes from the microphone. Suddenly, the PA crackles back to life, though it's not the Murder Show's voice booming through the speakers.


...Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Hessian stops talking into the microphone and glances all around the arena in confusion.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Nick: What the hell? Hessian wasn't reciting anything there. What is that?

Richard: That my dear charlatan is "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe.

Nick: And how would you know that?

Richard: I have no idea I'm just guessing at the reference to a Raven.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.

Tapping the microphone Hessian can't even summon static. The device is dead. Clutching his title he cocks his head and listens to the ominous poem as it is recited over the tannoy.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Suddenly the arena lights die out and a silhouette steps onto the stage, illuminated only by a faint light underneath the stage.

"Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'"

As quickly as the lights cut out they flash back on, however the mysterious figure on the stage has disappeared. Tossing the microphone to the mat another burst of static fills the arena signifying the return of power to it. Hessian can only stand confusedly in the ring, uncertain of who, what or why this has happened.

Nick: Some strange things have been happening to Hessian tonight but it seems this has finally gotten his attention. Someone seems to be stalking the Murder Show.

Richard: Wouldn't be the first time, he's always getting stalked or hunted or whatever.

Nick: Well in any case folks let's head backstage where it seems Brandon Pierce and Claire Saunders are meeting with our overlord Lisa Tyler!

A quiet knock on the door of her office, to be honest confuses Lisa Tyler. She had spent most of her time in PRIME having people barge into the office, so the knock whilst not un-nerving her, had her more confused than anything.

Tyler: Come in.

The door opens slowly and in walks Claire Saunders and Brandon Pierce, Pierce looking quite tired from the events earlier in the evening.

Claire: Miss Tyler, may we have a word?

Tyler: Certainly, take a seat.

Claire nods in acknowledgment and takes a seat directly opposite Tyler, Pierce simply remains standing and silent rotating his shoulders.

Tyler: So what can I do for you two?

Claire: Well it's more of a query to be honest Lisa. I was just wondering why my man's match earlier was non title?

Tyler: Well I could give you many reasons Claire, as a businesswoman yourself, I'm sure you understand that from a fiscal viewpoint, a show directly after the biggest event of the year, with only three matches on the card, is not the best of times for a high profile title match.

Claire can only nod in agreement with the very true sentiments coming from Lisa Tyler's lips.

Claire: Of course.

Tyler: Then we have the profile part of the equation. Brandon Pierce is not worthy as of yet of an Intense Title shot Claire.

Claire: He's been here for months and proven his worth, why shouldn't he at least have a shot?

Behind the meeting of minds Pierce is stood quite still, his mind clearly elsewhere however he cannot help but roll his eyes as Claire persistently fights his corner.

Tyler: Well I'm sorry but Brandon's contract says otherwise. When you came in here last week, demanding the new contract and the name change, it meant just that. In the eyes of PRIME, Brandon Pierce before tonight had only wrestled once....and lost I may add.

Claire: You know that's just paper work Lisa.

Tyler: No Claire, it's a legal document, if Brandon wants a title shot I'm afraid he's going to have to prove his worth, just like every other person that will be walking through my corridors over the next few weeks. Now if we're done here, I am a very busy woman.

Claire: I have to say, I think the way you are handling this is....

Brandon (Interrupting): Leave it Claire. Miss Tyler has given her piece, all I can do now is prove myself.

Brandon turns and opens the office door signalling for Claire to leave, she glances back at Tyler who simply nods in approval and leaves the office, stomping her heels for dramatic effect.

Brandon: Thank you for your time.

'The Symphony Of Destruction' closes the office door behind him, leaving Lisa Tyler once again alone in her office.

Nick: Our last commercial break of the evening. The Main Event is coming up momentarily.

Inside his notably un-lavish dressing room, Tyler Nelson packs up his belongings. Dressed in a black Adidas running suit with white accents, he pulls the zipper closed on the duffle bag at his feet on the floor. The Greediest Player in the Game looks up from his project, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead after the battle with Tony Gamble in the ring. His brow furrows as he scans the room.

Tyler: He’s never having Mexican food again before a show.

The ‘He’ is Mr. Simmons, who is absent from the room. Tyler shakes his head, annoyed that his bodyguard has been gone for almost thirty minutes now. He turns and reaches down, scooping the strap of the duffle bag up with his hand. Hoisting the grip onto his shoulder, the King of Greed turns to head toward the door. He’s frozen in his tracks, however, taking a defensive position.

"Hellllllllllo, nurse."

In the doorway stands The Model Citizen, Chandler Tsonda.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Dressed fashionably as usual, Chan leans in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. Nelson drops the bag he had just picked up, just in case he either has to fight or run.

Tyler: What the hell do you want, Chandler? I didn’t order any Mary Kay products.

Chandler: I got business, Nelson. That’s what you do, isn’t it?

The Greediest Player in the Game casts a wary eye upon Tsonda as he slowly relaxes his guard.

Tyler: Always. What is it that Tyler Nelson can do for you?

Chandler: Number one is no more speaking in third person, ya goddamn creep.

The former owner of PRIME frowns as he takes a seat in one of the folding chairs situated around the cheap card table in the room. He never takes his eyes off of the Model Citizen, and it’s not because he’s admiring Chan-Chan’s clothing. Tsonda moves inside the room, shutting the door behind him.

Chandler: We need to talk about your little jihad against Big Boss Bitch Lady.

Tyler: Seems like we’ve already gone over this, Mr. Tsonda., and I loathe repetition. You’ve sufficiently expressed your position on the matter already. Just stay out of my way.

The Model Citizen walks up to the table and leans forward, propping himself up on his fists. There’s a certain look in his eyes…a fire of sorts.

Chandler: I want in.

Tyler: I’m not going to disc-…you what?

Chandler: I want the she-hooker gone. She tried to screw me at Colossus, and I sure the fuck didn’t need a cigarette afterwards. Homie don't play that shit. Ever.

Nelson looks Tsonda in the eyes, sizing him up. It’s certainly an intriguing proposition from the hot-headed Viet Viper. Another disgruntled PRIME superstar in the growing line would certainly strengthen his position, something that the Board of Directors would definitely need to be made aware of.

Tyler: You can understand if I’m skeptical, Chandler. I mean, it wasn’t all that long ago that I offered you the opportunity to speak out about the ineptitude of Ms. Tyler and you refused. How am I to know whether you’re sincere, or whether you’re just her lap dog sent in to try and get information from me?

Tsonda chuckles as he stands upright across the table from Nelson.

Chandler: Chandler Tsonda is no one’s lap dog, Nelson. (shakes his head) Jesus, now you've got me doing the third person. Point is, she's pissed off the biggest dog in the yard. Rayne was right all along. She's scum.

Tyler: Well, in that case, I’ll take your offer under consideration. You do bring a certain star power to the table that cannot be ignored. If you’re genuinely interested in the ouster of Ms. Tyler, perhaps I’ll have use for you.

"DAMN IT WENCH I WON’T STAND FOR THIS!"

Lisa Tyler lets out a sigh before she ever looks up from her desk. Her eyes, staring down at her desk top, are easy enough to read: This lunatic again. Unfortunately, this lunatic is own position of both of the organizations top two titles. Gathering the entirety of her patience, Lisa Tyler folds her hands in front of her and looks up.

Lisa: Problem, Snow?

Snow: You know damn well there’s a problem! I was out there, right in the middle of God damn Shakespear when those… those…. those…

Lisa: Peasants?

Snow scowls.

Snow: Don’t put words in my mouth, woman!

Lisa can’t help but smile when Snow tries to hobble forward. He’s on both crutches again, however, the one that broke over Kazys Jankauskas’ forearm earlier tonight has been taped back together – poorly. It’s a good nine inches shorter than the other, leaving Snow’s strides clumsy at best.

Snow: I’m your champion, damn it! Hell, I’m your champions! Both the G-reatest wrestler on the face of the planet and the second greatest! I demand to be treated with some respect!

Lisa leans back in her chair.

Lisa: You demand?

Snow: That’s right! Who knows what brilliance might have spewed forth from my mouth had those… those…

Lisa waits for Snow to come up with a word. Apparently, "peasants" is the only thing that comes to mind, because he only scowls.

A moment passes, and then Lisa pulls herself to her feet.

Lisa: You know, Snow, I might be a little more open to your requests - not demands, requests – if you were a little more open to some of mine. If you acted a little more like a champion both inside the ring and out.

Snow: I’m the epitome of a champion!

Lisa: Really? When was the last time you did promotion for us? An autograph signing? A radio show? It’s like pulling teeth to get you to show up for a poster photo shoot.

She sighs.

Lisa: We’ve been on this merry-go-round for a long time, Snow. I can’t keep you from winning, but if you want any kind of perks at all around this place, you’re going to have to start acting like a real employee. Until then, I don’t really give a damn if Elise and Kazys interrupt everything you do.

Snow: Think of the fans! This might be the only time they ever see me in person! And damn it, I’ve got important things to tell them! How else will they ever realize that they’re inferior wastes of space and that I am perfection in skin!

Lisa Tyler rolls her eyes.

Lisa: I think that part came across perfectly fine.

She circles her desk to face Snow directly.

Lisa: It’s a shame really. We could make a good team, me and you. If you didn’t insist on being such a constant ass.

Before Snow can speak, she goes on.

Lisa: But as is, to be blunt, for as good as you are in the ring, you’re just as terrible an employee. Not to mention you’re obnoxious. Or at least you pretend to be.

She waves a hand.

Lisa: Either way, we’re stuck with each other. You as my champion and me as your boss. But until you’re willing to rub my back, don’t expect me to rub yours. No favours. And you know what that means? Whenever Elise Ares decides she wants her title shot, you’re going to have to either get over your little moral dilemma, or you’re going to have to hand that shiny belt over to her.

Snow: But wenches have no place in the ring! They’re for cooking and laundry! Making babies! And how are they going to have time for any of that when they’re wasting their time wrestling!? They’re useless by time they’re thirty, damn it!

Lisa leans back on her desk and chews her lip her eyes like steel on Snow.

Lisa: You just keep digging holes for yourself, don’t you Snow?

Snow: Damn it, wench, I don’t ha-

Lisa: Get out of my office.

Snow freezes.

Snow: But they’re in-

Lisa: Out of my office.

Snow sputters for a moment before clumsily turning around on his uneven crutches, muttering curses about wenches under his breath.

Lisa: Whenever you’re ready to play ball, come talk to me. Until then…

She closes the door behind him.

Nick: Welcome back to ReVolution, live on the fX Network!

Richard: Gee, just in time for the main event, too. It's almost like this show is timed or something.

Nick: Astute observation, my friend.

Richard: Just doing my job.

Nick: And it is indeed time for our main event of the evening, and this one should be a hard-hitting affair to say the least. Troy Douglas and Hessian met once before, in a BRUTAL Last Man Standing match several months ago, and while the rules are different this time around, the intensity may pick up, because Hessian's got a target known as the Elite Championship around his waist, and Douglas promised at Colossus to make the next 12 months his best yet!

Richard: Breathe, Captain Run-On Sentence. Breathe.

Nick: Let's go to Vince Howard!

Vince Howard: The following is your main event of the evening, and it is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first...

END.

OF.

THE.

ROAD.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!

As soon as the echoes from the cannon blasts settle, the rushing guitars kick into the chorus of Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name" and the crowd in Anaheim rises as one to greet the man they call Megatron, who steps confidently down the stage, pausing to slap hands with a few fans on the way. This is a different Troy Douglas than the distracted, lost man from the weeks before Colossus. He seems more focused, more collected as he makes his customary slide underneath the bottom rope and pops up, raising his arms to the crowd.

Vince Howard: He hails from Greensboro, North Carolina and weighs in a 260 pounds ... TROOOOOOOY DOOUGLAAAAASS!!!

Douglas bounces off the ropes a few times, getting himself warmed up, then settles into a corner, bouncing on his heels and stretching.

Vince Howard: His opponent...

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.

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, emerging out onto the stage to a chorus of boos.

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!

Vince Howard: Hailing from Detroit, Michigan, he stands seven feet, two inches tall and weighs in at 355 pounds ... HEEEEESSSSSIIIAAAAANNNN!!!!

Richard: Anyone else hot? I'm a little hot, and I've got no idea why.

Nick: Think maybe the FIRE has something to do with it?

Richard: Fire? What fire? There was fire?

Nick: This is why sleeping on the job is frowned on, pal.

Referee Tommy Giles quickly checks both competitors, then takes his place in the middle of the ring and calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick: And here we go!

Richard: Somebody's getting a legal letter in the morning.

Hessian looks to start deliberately, stalking forward, but it's the normally patient Douglas who strikes from the starting gate, taking advantage of the big man's attempt to lock up by going low with a dropkick to the left knee. The Hardcore Monster drops to one knee, and Douglas responds with a flying knee strike that sends the Elite Champ the rest of the way to the canvas.

Nick: Douglas on fire early with that enziguiri! Quick cover...

ONE...

TWO...

Hessian kicks out! Big Hess got stunned at the start with that flurry from Douglas, but he won't go down that easily.

Richard: Man, that woulda been one anticlimactic main event.

Nick: I KNOW. Besides, we've got about 15 minutes left to kill, and nothing scheduled to go on after this.

Richard: Maybe Dawkins could come out and strum us a tune on his ukelele.

Nick: Let's not go there, Richard.

Megatron waits a moment for Hessian to get to his feet, but pounces quickly after by driving a knee into his stomach, then unloading with a series of open-handed strikes to the head and neck. After following up with a rapid-fire barrage of chops to the chest, the Construction of Destruction shoves Douglas away into the ropes. Hessian fans on a clothesline, and as Troy ducks under, he swings his body horizontally and pulls the big man to the mat in a crucifix.

Richard: Well, that was pretty cool.

Nick: Crucifix by Douglas has Hessian down!

ONE...

TWO...

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nick: Another close near fall for Douglas here in the early going, and he's got the big man off balance!

Richard: When you give up nine inches in height and 95 pounds in weight, hitting the bigger guy first is a good strategy ... right up until the moment the big guy hits you. That's when you immediately regret not running away like a little girl.

Nick: Like you would do.

Richard: EXACTLY.

Douglas tries to follow up after the pinning combination with a kick to the body, but it's caught and Hessian spins him around. The Hardcore Monster's back suplex attempt is denied by a few elbows to the skull that allow Douglas to slip free, hit the ropes and spring off with a flying forearm that sends the big man stumbling backwards. Keeping the pressure on, Douglas connects with a seated dropkick to his doubled-over foe, sending Hessian stumbling to the outside of the ring.

Richard: Well, maybe Megatron wasn't lying about that whole "reinventing himself" deal.

Nick: Troy Douglas has certainly stepped his game up in the early going here tonight, so far he has completely outmatched one of PRIME's most dominant performers of the past six months.

Hessian pulls himself to his feet on the outside, but once again, Douglas is ready to go, this time hitting the ropes and launching himself to the outside.

Nick: Douglas going high risk...

Troy flings himself between the middle and top ropes like a torpedo, slamming his right elbow into the side of Hessian's face as he reaches the outside, causing the monster to slam into the barricade.

Richard: ...and high reward!

Nick: Wow. That sounded really dumb.

Richard: Yeah. Let's not do that again.

Nick: Tremendous elbow suicida from Troy Douglas, and right now, Hessian's looking a little lost out here!

Douglas scrambles to his feet, waving his arms to implore the crowd, and charges at Hessian once again. Finally, however, the Hardcore Monster shakes off the cobwebs and is a step ahead, pressing Troy into the air and dropping him - throat first - across the barrier. Megatron immediately clutches his throat and wobbles backwards, propping himself up against the ring apron.

Richard: That'll bruise the ol' Adam's apple.

Nick: Hessian just powered up the 260 pound Troy Douglas with ease and dropped him like a rag doll against that retaining wall! Troy's throat will be sore for a week after that one!

Richard: I'm just going to avoid the myriad of double entendres you left at my feet just then. Wouldn't be right.

Hessian delights in finally slowing the pace down, walloping Douglas with a few punches to the body before Tommy Giles' count reaches seven and the Construction of Destruction simply tosses Douglas back under the bottom rope. Once inside, Hess keeps up the assault, trapping Troy's head and launching him into a high-angle release belly-to-belly suplex.

Nick: Gigantic belly-to-belly by Hessian, and Douglas landed badly on that one!

Richard: What the hell is a good landing when Hessian lawn darts you across the ring?

Nick: Douglas wobbly ... back to his feet ...

Richard: Umm, not for long, pal.

Troy Douglas hitting the deck is brought to you courtesy of a thunderous boot to the face from Hessian.

Nick: This monster just about knocked Troy Douglas' face clean off with that running boot!

Richard: Well, now you've gone and screwed me up.

Nick: How?

Richard: You mention that, I immediately start thinking about the movie "Face-Off" and now I'm seeing EVERYTHING in slow motion. So screw you, Nick Stuart.

Not done with his regimen of abuse yet, Hessian drags the groggy Douglas to his feet and whips him into the corner, following up with a charge and a MASSIVE avalanche, sandwiching Megatron against the buckles. As Douglas staggers out of the corner, Hessian spins him around in mid-air and connects with the Kiss of Death!

Nick: Kiss of Death from the big man! Tilt-a-whirl backbreaker drop absolutely CRUSHES that surgically repaired spinal column of Troy Douglas!

Richard: That's vintage Troy Douglas getting his ass kicked right there.

Nick: Hessian with the cover...

ONE...

TWO...

YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Nick: ONLY TWO! Hessian absolutely punished Troy Douglas with that series leading up to the Kiss of Death, but Douglas powered free!

Richard: Good for him. Wanna cookie?

Nick: Only if you brought enough to share for everyone.

Richard: We're in an arena, Stuart! There's like 20,000 people here!

Nick: Well, you make a lot of money.

Richard: More that you, anyway...

As the banter continues on the outside, Hessian's assault continues inside the ring, as the Construction of Destruction keeps the former Intense Champion grounded, driving a knee or elbow into the small of his back every few seconds. Done with that particular brand of torture, Hessian pulls Douglas to his feet and hooks in an inverted facelock, lifting him up into reverse vertical suplex position.

Nick: Hessian looking for that Sword of Damocles here!

Richard: Hey, I found it! I found the Sword of ... oh, wait, that's an extra chicken finger from catering. Tasty, too.

Nick: That's very nasty, Richard. And oh, by the way, Hessian's got Douglas in the air like he's a damn feather right about now, and he's showing no signs of tiring.

Richard: Big strong dude in big strong dude shocker.

Hessian continues to let the blood flow to Troy's head, but finally, Douglas takes matters into his own hands, trying to break free on his own with some elbows to the side of the head. A half-dozen finally get the job done, allowing Troy to deftly land on his feet and bounce of the ropes, charging back at the big man.

Nick: Douglas charging ... YAKUZA KICK ... CAUGHT!

Richard: FAIL.

Nick: Hessian caught the kick ... and turns it right into a leg-trap belly-to-belly! WITH A BRIDGE!

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

Nick: Douglas kicked out again! Hessian powered him down with that suplex and had him all tied up, but Douglas managed to break free at two point eight!

Richard: Speaking of all tied up, I think that's what Hessian's going for here.

Nick: Right on the ball, Richard, as he's rolling Troy off the mat and straight into the Stigmata!

The pressure of the standing bow-and-arrow backbreaker causes Douglas to grimace in pain, but when Tommy Giles comes in to check him, Troy violently shakes his head. That only serves to piss off Hessian even more, as he redoubles his effort to invert Douglas' spinal column. Troy tries to twist himself to get free, but Hessian remedies that by releasing the hold, only to heft Douglas onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Nick: Hessian could be looking for the Chasing the Dragon here ... Douglas goes up ... BUT HESSIAN GOES DOWN! Douglas countered into a DDT!

Richard: And I think he's stuck, Nick. He's not letting go.

Nick: That's because he's switched right into that guillotine choke! He's got that choke locked in, the legs are scissored, he's trying to put the Monster to sleep!

Richard: Rock-a-bye Hessian, on the tree -- I'm going to stop singing now.

Nick: Good, because I was just about to dive for the pyro guy's ear plugs.

Richard: I wouldn't do that, Nick. Dennis is very possessive about those things.

Douglas tries to tighten his grip on the choke, but Hessian posts an elbow on the ground to keep himself elevated. The other arm follows, then a knee, and very slowly, the Hardcore Monster pulls himself and Troy Douglas off the mat, finally deadlifting Douglas into the air, though Megatron still holds on to the choke.

Nick: Douglas is just suspended in midair as he tries to hold on to this choke!

Richard: Time is standing still. I knew John Woo had something to do with this!

Nick: Hessian powered Douglas into the air, but he can't get him to let go of the guillotine!

Richard: DAMN YOU WOO!!!! DAMN YOU AND YOUR SLOW MOTION!!!!

Nick: Alrighty then.

At long last, Hessian gets enough oxygen into his brain to think of a plan: ramming Douglas straight into the turnbuckles. Unfortunately for the big man, Douglas thought of the exact same idea, and before Hessian can compact him against the turnbuckles, Troy lands his feet on the top turnbuckle and pushes off, rolling through with a sunset flip.

Nick: What a counter by Douglas!

ONE...

TWO...

THRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Nick: So close! So very, VERY close for Troy Douglas, but Hessian powered free!

Richard: And now Douglas is going all teeter-totter.

Nick: Douglas aiming for that rebound lariat ... STOPPED COLD BY HESSIAN!

Richard: Jeez, what a punch.

Nick: Hessian reared back and DRILLED Troy Douglas smack dab in the jaw with a vicious right hand! Douglas is almost out on his feet!

Richard: I think he just tried to hail a cab.

Douglas' dazed state gives Hessian a chance to fold his opponent up, swing him upwards into a crucifix, and toss him violently to the canvas with the Ballista!

Nick: BALLISTA! That devastating powerbomb, and Troy Douglas landed RIGHT on the back of his neck!

Richard: That looked like it sucked so much that I need some Advil. That's Advil, the official pain reliever of PRIME and all its stars! Also, morphine, but you can't just get that over the counter. You gotta know a guy.

Douglas manages to roll to his feet despite the impact of the Ballista, but that doesn't make him any less susceptible to further evisceration at the hands of Hessian, as the Hardcore Monster takes the groggy Douglas, crosses his arms and lifts him skyward, planting him headfirst into the canvas with the HessPlex!

Nick: Cross-armed brainbuster from Hessian! He is just DECIMATING Troy Douglas right now!

Richard: You sound surprised. I'm surprised that you're surprised.

Nick: The Murder Show isn't going for the cover ... he's going to finish it off!

Richard: Hellevator, baby! Cut, print, fade to black, all that jazz and whatnot!

Hessian elevates Douglas into the Canadian backbreak rack, but before he can transition into the Ganso bomb and drive Troy's spine through his brain stem, the lights in the arena begin to flicker.

Nick: What the...

Richard: Don't ask me. Weird crap and Hessian just seem to be a match made in heaven.

The lights quickly return to normal, but with Hessian distracted for a moment, Douglas leverages his feet towards the mat and brings Hessian down with a backslide!

Nick: Backslide from Douglas! Another beautiful counter!

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEEEEEE...

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Richard: Aww, so close. Pity it's professional wrestling and not horseshoes or hand grenades.

Nick: What does that mean?

Richard: I dunno.

Nick: Douglas is a little hazy, but he's still in action ... OKLAHOMA ROLL! Hess' shoulders are down again!

ONE...

TWO...

THRRRRRRRRNOOOOOO!!!!

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Nick: Troy Douglas has come within fractions of a second of stunning the Murder Show on several occasions, but just can't put him away!

Richard: Not surprisingly, that's the exact blurb I'm writing for Whining and Failing: The Troy Douglas Story.

Taken off his game, Hessian pulls himself to his knees, but Douglas is finally sharp enough to strike with fury, drilling the Murder Show with a shining wizard. Hessian doesn't topple, but stumbles backwards into the corner. Seeing his opponent trapped there, Douglas charges.

Nick: Here comes Troy ... HORNET SPLASH!!! Shades of his boyhood hero!

Richard: Imitation is the sincerest form of bulls**t, you know.

Nick: Douglas isn't done yet, here he comes again ... EUROPEAN UPPERCUT! Right across the jaw with tremendous force!

Richard: I think that cracked Hessian's beard.

Douglas slumps over slightly, exhausted, but begins pumping his right fist in the air and stomping his right foot, urging the crowd on.

ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME!

Richard: Well, two out of three ain't bad.

Nick: But Douglas is going for the hat trick ... AND GETS IT! Connects with the Yakuza Kick!

Richard: Damn the Japanese mafia and their kicks of doom.

With Hessian reeling, Douglas pulls the Hardcore Monster out of the corner and locks in a double underhook.

Nick: Douglas trying to finish this monster off ... but can he get him up for the twisting brainbuster?

Richard: I'm thinking, no.

Unfortunately for Troy Douglas, Richard Parker passes this particular test with flying colors, as Hessian sandbags him on the End of the Road '08, then plows Troy into the corner, from there, it's just a quick spin and lift before Troy's back in the backbreaker rack, and this time, there's no flickering lights.

Nick: Hessian on the verge of finishing this one off!

Richard: Here goes Dougie for a ride on the Hellevator...

Nick: And DOWN HE GOES! THAT DESTRUCTIVE GANSO BOMB! Douglas is down, and he is out!

Hessian hooks Troy's leg for the cover, but the pressure isn't really needed. Megatron is all out of Energon.

ONE...

TWO...

THRRRRRREEEEEEEE!!!!!

Nick: And Hessian comes off his Colossus dominance with yet another win! Troy Douglas was game tonight, but right now in PRIME, there may be nobody who can stop the Murder Show.

Richard: Don't I know it.

Vince Howard: Here is your winner ... HEEEESSSSSIIIAAAAAAAANNNN!!!!

Nick: That'll do it for us on ReVoltion, for Richard Parker, I'm Nick Stuart ... see you next time!

In the ring, Troy Douglas crawls to his feet, weary but disappointed. Across from him stands the victor, arms held high, snarling in the crowd.

Unstoppable.

The scene opens backstage. The main event is over and the majority of fans have already vacated the premises. Von Kelsig packs the last of his things away into his kit bag after having had a shower, carefully folding his Elite belt in on top of his stuff and zipping the bag up. Whistling a tune to himself that cocksure grin is still plastered on his face after a night of glee, gloating and running riot in the main event yet again.

"Von Kelsig."

He turns around. To his surprise, Lisa Tyler is standing arms crossed in the doorway between two of Anaheim's finest.

Von Kelsig: Uh...yeah?

Lisa Tyler: These police officers are looking for you.

Her tone is flat and Von Kelsig can tell as the police advance towards him that she is far beyond angered by their presence. This isn't some theatrical Rayne/Shakur riot cop segment.

Officer #1: Angelus Von Kelsig, in accordance with the Memphis Police Department we're arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Gloria Carmichael and Larry DeLancy.

The second officer takes Von Kelsig by the arms, moving them to his back and barely managing to get the handcuffs around his wrists. Lisa Tyler's eyes narrow as she juggles both anger and confusion at why one of her biggest draws is being put in cuffs.

Officer #1: You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence in court if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.

Von Kelsig is in shock as the second officer leads him from the locker room into the corridor, where his face turns beetroot as a few remaining PRIMEates watch aghast as he is led away by the cops. Brandon Pierce and Claire Saunders whisper between themselves, backing into their locker room as he passes by. Several of Chandler Tsonda's interns study the giant's emotions as the police clear the way ahead. Even Tyler Nelson peeks out from his new abode amongst the roster to see his prize giant being led away.

Tyler Nelson: What is the meaning-...

Lisa Tyler: -...You shut up. This is no time for in-show politics.

Nelson's eyes widen as the Elite Champion passes him. Lurking in the last locker room they pass by, Devin Shakur and Christian Daniels watch with sly grins on their faces as the giant is led away from the arena. Glancing up at them Von Kelsig snarls, locking eyes with the two scumbags.

Lisa Tyler accompanies them through a set of double doors, and the PRIMEates linger nearby as she pulls the first officer aside and begins talking at him, her arms busily gesturing. Shakur sees all he needs to and turns to his brother in arms, his smirk turning into a sadistic grin. The first officer dismisses Tyler and follows his partner and Von Kelsig as they leave the arena with the giant in handcuffs.

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