Vince Howard: Ladies and gentleman would you all please give a warm welcome to PRIME’s NEWEST signing "The Topeka Thunder" Tony Tagliabue.

Nick: Just signed today, right here in his home town of Topeka, an Indy circuit favorite in and around the Midwest, especially in Kansas. Tony is a big man standing 6’4" and weighing on at 265 pounds. Tony is known as "The Topeka Thunder" due to his booming fists and high flying moves.

Richard: Sounds like a real tool.

Nick: And like any other tool he should be useful around PRIME.

"Sex on Fire" by Kings of Leon starts to rock the stadium as out from the back enters the twenty-two year old rookie making his big league debut on the number one wrestling show in the world. He shakes hands with a few fans and has a huge smile on his face as he makes his way from the back to the ring.

Nick: No doubt excited to be here in front of his home fans what a way to start his career here in PRIME coming off of one of the greatest pay-per-views in wrestling history.

Richard: Well at least one person is excited to be here in Kansas. You know why he has that smile on his face?

Nick: He’s home and he’s loving it!

Richard: Nope, he’s deranged.

The young man gives an "I’m not worthy" bow in front of both Nick and Richard before entering the ring.

Nick: I spoke with the young man backstage and he is excited as hell to be here and both a fan of yours and mine.

Richard: Clearly deranged, I’m getting a restraining order.

The young man hops into the ring and a small chant of "Thunder" is heard as local wrestling fans are familiar with the hard working young superstar.

Tony Tagliabue: WHAT UP KANSAS???

The crowd pops.

Tony Tagliabue: As a young man I dreamed of one day standing in this ring….in my home town….and introducing myself to you the fans. My name is Tony Tagliabue and I’m going to lay the ‘boom’ down on any dude who dares stand in front of my dream. Not just my dreams but OUR DREAMS KANSAS!!

Nick: These people in Kansas love him.

Richard: They are ALL deranged.

Tony Tagliabue: I want to start at the bottom and work my way to the top just like every other hard working person in this arena. I may not be the smartest, I may not be the quickest, I may not be the strongest, biggest, or even toughest but NOBODY will work harder than I will to become the best. That is my promise to you and all the viewers at home.

Another pop.

Tony Tagliabue: You work hard to buy these tickets. You work hard to pay the cable bill to watch this show. You work hard to provide for your family. Well I’m right there with you. I’ve worked my ass off and I won’t stop out of respect to my family and my fans. Tonight I got the best news of my life, and the worst.

Richard: Probably got the results of his IQ test back.

Tony Tagliabue: On the day I found out I got signed by PRIME I also found out my father has brain cancer.

Nick: Oh my.

Tony Tagliabue: It’s ok. Because I have come to PRIME to honor my father and I’m dedicating my career to him and every father who has ever taken their son to a wrestling show, or stayed up and watched wrestling with them. To my dad and dad’s everywhere the "The Topeka Thunder" will represent in the first degree. Before I leave here tonight I’d like to ask everybody to take a second and pray for my father, it would mean the world to him and also to me.

Nick: Let’s take a moment of silence.

Richard: I was napping anyway.

The lights dim and most of the crowd is silent the camera zooms in on a young boy of about seven with his head bowed and his hands clasped in prayer.

Drums start drumming and the lights start flashing white to the beat of the drumming as the crowd and Tagliabue seem confused and stunned.

"Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone whos there"

"Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode plays as out from the back enters PRIME Hall of Famer "Your Personal Jesus" Hoyt Williams. The seldom seen wrestler is wearing a white robe and brown sandals, next to him is a scantily dressed sexy blonde woman wearing a white one piece leather dress with a cape and matching white diva glasses.

Nick: What the hell is this?

Richard: The SAVOIR IS HERE!!

Both Hoyt and the young lady ignore the crowd as they hurry to the ring where she holds down the ropes as Hoyt enters. Tony Tagliabue just stares on as Hoyt walks up to him and snags the mic from his hand like he doesn’t matter.

Hoyt Williams: Sinners rejoice redemption is upon you!!

The crowd jeers loudly as Hoyt points to the little seven year old who was shown praying just moments ago.

Hoyt Williams: Son your prayers have been answered your savior is here to end the boredom that this waste of carbon is producing. The lord hears your prayer!

The kid gives Hoyt the finger after some encouragement from his dad.

Hoyt Williams: That is right!! The one and only is BACK!! The King of Kings. The Pontifffffffff of PRIME. The Savior of the Squared Circle. The Second Coming of Christ. PRIME HALL OF FAME INDUCTEE. UNIVERSAL CHAMPION. PTC EXTREME CHAMPION. GOD’S CHAMPION. THE POPE’S BOSS. The BEES KNEESS! THE CRIPPLER OF SIN. THE SON OF A SON OF A SAVIOR ….

Tony Tagliabue approaches Hoyt with a "what the fuck" face and without missing a beat Hoyt touches his forehead and Tagliabue falls backwards and passes out flat as a board.

Hoyt Williams: …The Hitman of the Heavens. The Cat’s Meow. The Lords Vengeance. The Rough Rider of the Apocalypse. The PRINCE of Man. The FATHER of BROTHERHOOD. The PRIME RIB of PRIME. The Pope of the PIN. The deity of the piledriver. The Moses of the Mat. "Your Personal Jesus" HOYT WILLIAMS!!!!!!!!!!

A massive jeer shakes the arena as the crowd "boos" as loud as they can.

Hoyt Williams: I know why you are upset, but hear me out.

Nick: This ought to be good.

Richard: This is the greatest moment in the history of PRIME.

Hoyt Williams: You are all upset that I’m here because you are worried about my Hollywood career. I know I’m upset too, but this is much deeper then tinsel town. Sure my last movie "Sleeping In" was a massive MASSIVE…dare I say biblical hit. My spy movies "Malice Undercover" one through three have all been blockbuster hits, and if God hadn’t given me the Academy of Heaven Award for best actor you know I would own the Oscars just as I owned PRIME. HOYT WILLIAMS...Number One by Divinity!

"You Suck" chant starts up as Hoyt shines his toothpaste ad smile to the crowd.

Hoyt Williams: Calm down I’ll get to her in a second.

Hoyt points to the sexy blonde next to him.

Hoyt Williams: I ruled Hollywood just as I ruled PRIME. You see sinners…which by the way everybody from Kansas is…and you are all going to hell.

Crowd boo’s.

Hoyt Williams: I know I’m just as upset about it as your obese bodies are, but the choices we make. When you point a finger in awe of my body you have four fat fingers pointing back at you. Deal with it. So last week I was on the set of "Pulp Fiction 2" when God called me on the hot line. We spoke about family, friends, 2012, hot pockets, Disgraced Teens, Obama, Glenn Beck, CSI, Ted Kennedy’s arrival, mental midgets aka Kansas, DA BEARS, Jay Cutler the Third Coming, and my career. God told me it was time to give up acting as my legend in wrestling was fading. I laughed at him - if I have one piece of advice to any of you sinner NEVER EVER laugh at God. After pulling the lightning bolt out of my ass I knew he was right, it was my time to return to PRIME and reclaim my status and spread the words of the R.I.S.P. back to the masses using the simpleton medium of wrestling and its massive airwaves. So here I am. Back again.

Crowd: You’re an asshole *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*… You’re an asshole *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*… You’re an asshole *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*

Hoyt Williams: To speak of this poor kid lying on the mat in that language is the reason EVERYONE OF YOU are going to hell. Sickening. Before I get to him let me get to this pretty young thing over here. You see in Hollywood I found this whore working the streets and I took her under my wing and made her a clean living soldier, and the enforcer of "Hoyt’s Witnesses’" Now she uses her beauty for God and only God and I have canalized her the patron saint of wrestling valets our Lady of Gaga!!!

The young lady makes the sign of the cross before bowing down to Hoyt.

Hoyt Williams: Now to wake the kid.

Hoyt stands over Tony Tagliabue and places his hand on his head again this time the young man wakes up and cautiously stands up.

Hoyt Williams: Ok kid. I heard your prayer and I’m willing to make you a deal. I will cure your father from cancer if and only if you give me your roster spot.

The kid is stunned and the crowd is mixed.

Nick: What a sickening offer.

Richard: Seems fair to me let the old man die!

Hoyt Williams: Now I could be full of Hades stench. I can be just a con man with no real power. I also could probably get back on the PRIME roster with or without your spot- but faith is full of choice. So trust in me to save your father and give me your roster spot, or let your daddy die a painful death thanks to the dirty life he has lived and go on to be a midcarder. The choice is in your hands and I’ll give you a moment to make up your mind while I show the girls what heaven really looks like. Our Lady of GAGA if you would please.

The kid looks out at the crowd as his eyes water up as he realizes his dream could be over. While he’s tearing up in an emotional outpour our lady of Gaga removes Hoyt Williams’ robe exposing the perfect body on his 6’9" and 320 pound frame. He poses for the fans doing a few ‘jumping jacks for Jesus’ as the crowd remains mixed on what the kid should do.

Hoyt Williams: Ok times up. Death to daddy or death to your dreams? No. I’m sorry. That is negative. Save your dad or SAVE your dreams!! Much better. So kid what is it?

Tony Tagliabue: This is my dream…I don’t know what to do. I think I can get back into PRIME someday….

Hoyt Williams: Unlikely.

Tony Tagliabue: But you only have one father….

Hoyt Williams: Not me, I have two!!

Tony Tagliabue: So as hard as it is for me, please save my father.

Hoyt Williams: So you are giving me your roster spot?

Tony Tagliabue: If it means saving my father, yes.

Hoyt Williams: SO MOTE IT BE!! REJOYCE IN HIS NAME!!!!! Come on kid lets go save your daddy even if he is from Kansas and going to hell anyway. As for the REST of PRIME be SAVED OR GO TO HELL as ANYBODY who stands in my way will be crucified and saved.

"Personal Jesus" plays as Our Lady of Gaga holds the ropes for Hoyt as he and the kid exit. Hoyt is all smiles as the kid is clearly broken hearted.

Nick: What a sick and evil man.

Richard: Yes! I’m so happy Hoyt is BACK!! IN THE NAME OF HOYT Hallelujah!!!!

Nick: Hell of a way to start off ReVolution-

Richard: More like a heavenly way.

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.

Jacob Cross glares into the camera, ready to make an impact on PRIME.

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 beatdown both the Wolves of Slaughter and Wicked Ways.

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 slam into the Landon Arena in Topeka, Kansas. The seven thousand plus that have crammed into the building rise to their feet in eager anticipation for what has already been a landmark ReVolution, and promises to be that much more with the forthcoming action.

The overhead camera gets a good shot of those in the upper panels of the audience, roaring so loud the building is shaking. Perhaps that is a sign that the sun Gods are working their magic. Kansas is a pretty odd place after all.

Camera 4 swings over to Richard Parker and Nick Stuart, looking into the camera and shuffling papers, ready to go for another installment of ReVolution.

Nick Stuart: Welcome, everybody to ReVolution 204.

Richard Parker: Get your damn Bible out because Hoyt is back, baby!

Nick: If you missed our opening segment folks-

Richard: You are already in hell.

Nick: A local talent out and poured his heart to the Kansas faithful, but Hoyt Williams-

Richard: THE SAVIOR!

Nick: Made his presence felt and decided to take the moment for himself, declaring himself back in the greatest federation on the planet.

Richard: And kids, we're not just catering to the big religions. Tonight, we have something that will delight all groups, pure and unadulterated violence!

Nick: Three matches coming up. The first of PRIME's new signees, Jacob Cross, is set to go one on one with Troy Douglas.

Richard: Nice way to get your feet wet, taking on a former Intense Champion your first night in the company.

Nick: After that, the hottest star in the company, Intense Champion Chainz, looks for his 9th, you heard that right, 9th consecutive victory when he takes on one half of the Tag Team Champions, Elise Ares.

Richard: And let's not forget she has a banked 5 star Championship match to use whenever she desires.

Nick: Jason Snow is in the building so that could very well happen.

Richard: And our Main Event...Well, we have no idea about that.

Nick: We know one of the participants to be Tony Gamble, but the other remains a mystery. Hopefully, we'll find out before the match, but that's no guarantee with Lisa Tyler.

Richard: A horde of superstars have also been seen roaming around.

Nick: We expect to hear an address from Devin Shakur, get an update on Jay Phoenix, and no doubt get some kind of information on Hessian. Last week, he was arrested and taken away at the conclusion of ReVolution 203.

Richard: One wonders if Lisa Tyler is going to come out and shed some light on it.

Nick: A lot of bad media coverage came from that so you'd think she might.

Lounging back into the padded leather of her office chair, Lisa Tyler rested her feet on the desk as she continued multitasking. One hand held her cell phone to her ear while the other held a packet of papers kept together with a staple.

Lisa Tyler: Well Blaine, I appreciate your concern, but all I really am worried about is how our ratings do. Hopefully we can do better with the time we have on FX now. It certainly isn’t going to hurt.

Her back was away from the door, her concentration more on the phone call than her surroundings. Dam was maintaining guard duty, his senses sharpened by the awareness that disturbed giants and embittered power-players might be ready to strike them at any time.

Lisa Tyler: I’ll worry about Kelsig’s legal situation once we have something more to go on. We finally get the Elite Championship, now it might be held up thanks to his legal problems.

Lowering her legs underneath the desk and motioning forward with her hips, Lisa put her paper packet down. Stifling a cough, she took a brisk gulp from a bottle of water that had been hanging on the edge of the table. Letting out a refreshed breath through her nostrils, she continued speaking to the only man in the company she had to answer to.

Lisa Tyler: I can’t control Tsonda either. You saw him throw us under the bus at Colossus. I just—

Stopping for a moment, Tyler pursed her lips together. She slowly started looking towards Dam.

Lisa Tyler: You have someone who can? Are you—

Whatever she had just heard from Blaine caused her eyes to shoot wide open. A meek smile radiating across her face, she patiently waited for a chance to respond.

Lisa Tyler: Oh is she? Well I will get right onto hyping that—

She stopped again, scanning over the front sheet of the packet with her index finger.

Lisa Tyler: Well, I have the itinerary right here. I can fit something in but it’s going to be a bit snug. We might have to cancel a commercial—

Once again interrupted on the other line, she stopped to listen to what Blaine was telling her. As this was taking place, a noticeable tremor started to shoot through her arm.

Lisa Tyler: You mean Lindsay Troy is coming back tonight? I’ll spread the news then.

The scene quick cuts from the office to the announce table, where a visibly excited Nick Stuart tries to yell over the screaming Topeka PRIMEates. Of course, Richard is parked in his chair with his head buried in his hands.

TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY!

Nick: Oh my word is that big news!

Richard: (muttering) Yeah yeah yeah.

Nick: I can’t believe she’s back. The former two time Universal Champion makes her return tonight. And we can only hazard a guess as to what she is returning for.

Richard: Probably to give us a blow by blow account of how Christian Daniels beat her ass.

Nick: Or maybe she’s here to deal with this Nelson situation. You can’t believe that she would stand by idly while Chandler Tsonda is possibly making a deal with the Greediest Player in the Game. Either way fans, this show just got even more interesting!

KNOCK KNOCK

Before PRIME's Woman-in-charge can answer, he office door is shoved open anyways. The 6'5" hulking frame of The Next in Line casts a shadow over her desk, as she glances up, an annoyed look on her face.

Kaiser Vashaun: I'm back.

Lisa Tyler: I thought I told you to take a few weeks off.

Kaiser Vashaun: I stayed home last week. Besides, I'm not really the vacationing type and I don't do requests.

Lisa Tyler: You must have misunderstood me when I told you to stay home for awhile. It wasn't a request.

The Next in Line folds his arms across his chest and looks down at his boss.

Kaiser Vashaun: Doesn't matter. I don't take orders either.

This comment causes Lisa to push back her chair and rise to her feet. Now it's her turn to strike a pose, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at the former 5 Star and Intense Champion.

Lisa Tyler: Your attitude as of late... has been poor. I suggest you take this little rebellious anti-authority streak and lose it fast. Now, why don't you sit back and enjoy the show tonight, from the comfort of the backstage area. Curl up in front of a TV monitor and watch some of the best athletes in the world do their thing. We'll talk next week about getting you back into the swing of things.

Kaiser Vashaun: I've got other plans for tonight.

Lisa Tyler: Such as?

Kaiser Vashaun: Why don't you sit back, curl up in front of a TV monitor and just watch.

The Next in Line turns and leaves the office, slamming the door shut behind him, Lisa Tyler's glare burning a hole through her office door.

The room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single light suspended from the ceiling. The black tin shade around the light bulb focuses the light down onto a square card table. There are four chairs situated around the table, two of which are occupied. On the right is The Model Citizen, Chandler Tsonda. He sits back on his chair, which is positioned off to the side in such a way that he can cross one leg over the other. He looks bored, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table before checking his watch.

Chandler: He’s got to know that I have important things to do. This is soooo wasting my time.

Situated across the table, his Intense Title slung over his shoulder is Michael Sloan. You might know him as Chainz. The sadistic one glares across the table at Tsonda, sizing him up. Cast in the shadow behind him, but still able to be recognized, is the beautiful Tracy. She runs her soft hand lovingly over the Intense Title.

Chainz: You're chafed little penis and pink hairy hands can wait a few minutes.

Tsonda opens his mouth to respond, but before any words can come out the door to the dark room opens, allowing a good amount of light in. For those brief moments we can see that it appears to be a dressing room, but you might have already guessed that. The door quickly closes, extinguishing the revealing light.

"Sorry I’m late, gentlemen."

A hand reaches from the darkness and pulls one of the empty chairs out from under the table. The Greediest Player in the Game slithers into the chair, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the two men already seated. Nelson unbuttons his black suit jacket and slides his chair forward, clasping his hands on the table.

Chandler: Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Captain Pocket Lint.

The sarcasm drips off of Tsonda’s words as he folds his arms across his chest.

Tyler: I had some things that needed attention. Have we heard anything from Von Kelsig?

Chainz: It's been sorted, just a misunderstanding is all.

Nelson furrows his brow.

Tyler: I tried to get some information from the authorities, but as with anything you need money for that. That’s something I’m obviously a little short on right now. We’ll just have to move on without him and catch him up later should he avoid the death penalty.

Tracy snickers, drawing a look from Chainz.

Chainz: Don't worry about that. He was just questioned, nothing more. We've all been suspected of things we weren't guilty of in the past.

Chandler: How about we get down to business already? I’m not here to be one of your lackey’s like Sloane over there. I’m in this discussion for one reason, and one reason only. Get the bitch the hell out of Dodge!

Tyler: You’re enthusiasm is appreciated, Mr. Tsonda., but I’m sure you can understand that we need to make sure we do this right. Going into battle with guns blazing will only serve to put bullet holes in the wall. We only need one shot as long as we make it count.

Tsonda sits up, leaning forward onto the table.

Chandler: Then make it count. I’m doing image more harm than good by dealing with you, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Lisa get away with what she did. If it means backing your miserable ass, then so be it.

Chainz: No need to get all high and mighty on us, Superstar. We’re all tryin to show Lisa who the boss is. Some of us just have different ideas of how to go about it.

Sloan snarls sadistically.

Chandler: That’s Tsuperstar to you. And you’re a sick fuck.

Tyler: Gentlemen, please! Let’s keep focus on the task at hand. Revenues are down, the roster is thin, and I have to believe that Ms. Tyler is fighting just to keep her head above water. I’d like to be the one to put a foot on that red head and hold it under. I’m going to give her one more chance to vacate her position willingly. If she continues to play the stubborn, I-am-woman-hear-me-roar role, then we will be forced to take more drastic measures.

Tsonda rolls his eyes.

Chandler: We’ve heard this song and dance before, Nelson. Lisa obviously doesn’t take you seriously.

Tyler: This war is not about the battles fought, Chandler, but about the ultimate victory won. I’m giving Ms. Tyler plenty of rope….she can either save or hang herself with it.

Chainz: I can think of other uses for that rope, Ty.

Tyler: Yes, I’m sure you can.

Tsonda rises from his chair, nearly hitting his head on the dangling light above.

Chandler: I’ll assume that we’re done here, since you’re going to painfully drag this out instead of just cutting the head off the snake.

Tyler: In due time, Mr. Tsonda. In due time.

Chandler: Whatever. I’m out like your suit.

The Sultan of Style storms off, slamming the door behind him as he leaves the room. Chainz begins to get up from his chair, directing Tracy toward the door.

Tyler: Mr. Sloan….can you stay behind for a minute? I need to discuss something with you.

Nelson glances toward the Tracy.

Tyler: Alone.

Tracy: But I'm his wife, anything you say to him you can say to me.

She looks on the verge of tears. Chainz pets her delicately and gives her a peck on the lips.

Chainz: This will take just a minute, why don't you go to our locker room. I'll be there shortly with a surprise.

Her eyes shone brightly, she loved surprises. With a smile she jogged off as an irritated Michael Sloan turned to face Tyler Nelson who suddenly seemed much smaller than before.

Chainz: Next time Nelson, watch your mouth. Now I gotta find something to give her to cheer her up. I don't need a sobbing woman on my back all night.

Tyler: I'm sorry Mr. Sloan, but this is important.

Chainz: Unless it's how I'm gonna stick my penis inside a certain redhead I don't really want to hear it.

Nelson smirks as the feed cuts out.

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 20 minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Marlow, Oklahoma, weighing in at 230 pounds...JACOB CROSS!

"Unbound" by Avenged Sevenfold blasts over the speakers as Jacob Cross steps out from behind the curtain to a mild ovation. He's not well known throughout the PRIME world and only a small portion of the audience is familiar with his PCW and Alias background. Nonetheless, he is excited and glad to be in the big leagues, slapping fans with the little kids who extend their arms out. He rolls underneath the bottom rope and walks over to his corner.

Nick: Jacob Cross, ladies and gentlemen, a former Alias Tag Team Champion and PCW Heavyweight Champion.

Richard: I have no idea about either of those places. I eat, sleep, drink, and fornicate PRIME.

Nick: How exciting. I'm sure Cross' family are watching this and will now have the memory of you saying that in their heads when purchasing this on tape.

Richard: You really think I give a crap what other people think of me? Man you are delusional.

Nick: Cross is going to have to bring his A game right away because Troy Douglas is no slouch.

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

END.

OF.

THE.

ROAD.

Then...

BOOM!

BOOOOOM!

BOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DING! DING! DING!

Troy and Jacob start to circle the ring, sizing each other up before they lock up in the center of the ring. Douglas manages to slide underneath, grab a hold of Cross’ waist, and sling him over and onto his head. Cross barely has time to figure out where he is when Douglas has a front face lock applied. Cross magnificently spins out of the hold and gets behind Douglas, applying a hammerlock. Douglas uses his raw strength to lift himself on to his hands and knees, causing Cross to attempt an element of surprise by leaping over and hooking onto the leg of Douglas, locking him in for the first pinfall of the contest.

Nick: Douglas caught early here.

ONE!!

TWO!

Richard: That'll work about as well as Paris Hilton at a sexaholics anonymous convention.

Nick: Do those even exist?

Richard: How do you think I meet women?

Douglas kicks out and both wrestlers scramble up to a vertical base. Cross beats Douglas by a half second and connects on a staggering right hand. Douglas tries to retaliate, but Cross blocks and fires another one, a third one, and a fourth before delivering a spinning forearm that puts Douglas against the ropes. Cross puts a boot into Douglas’ midsection and shoots off to the right side of the ropes. On the comeback, Cross puts a knee into Douglas’ head and nails a swinging neckbreaker that drops him.

Nick: Cross looking a whole lot better than when this match started.

Richard: He isn't Hessian, but the guy's doing alright.

Cross gets back up to a standing position and delivers another forearm before firing Douglas off into the ropes. Douglas bounces back and Cross attempts to jump over him, but that doesn’t go according to plan. Instead, Douglas stays in front of Cross and catches him in mid-air. He throws Cross overhead in a nasty belly to belly suplex that causes Cross’ lower body to snap against the ropes. Douglas doesn’t give Cross time to breathe, yanking him up from the canvas and locking his arms behind Cross’ neck. Douglas unloads with vicious knees to the chin and upper abdomen of a dazed Cross, before shoving Jacob down and grabbing a hold of his waist. Douglas effortlessly yanks Cross up to his right shoulder, spins around, and slams him with authority onto the mat.

Nick: ANOTHER COVER

Douglas has indeed dropped down for the cover, saving Nick from embarrassment.

ONE!

TWO!

NOOOO!

Nick: Douglas bringing the action fast and furious to the newcomer.

Richard: How are you going to just move on from that blunder you almost had? I'm going to be in Botchamania 97 eating a damn taco now because of you. How embarrassing.

Cross kicks out just before the three count. Douglas wastes no time in getting up and unleashing a devastating kick to the shoulder blades of a rising Cross. Jacob gets yanked up to a standing position by Douglas. Cross receives a club to the back by Douglas, before having one of his arms locked up by Troy. Douglas throws himself backwards, landing a nasty half nelson suplex that puts Cross straight on his neck.

Richard: Jacob Cross is getting his ass handed to him...Or, in the words of Fruit, He's gettin' served!

Nick: You're terrible.

Richard: I know.

In desperate need of a break, Cross attempts to get to the outside and tries to gather some distance away from the beast that is assaulting him right now. Douglas doesn’t concede, pulling Cross back into the ring by his leg, wrenching down on the wheel and forcing Cross to sit up, right into a downward clothesline that catches Cross right between the eyes.

Douglas drops down for yet another pinfall attempt.

ONE!

Richard: That worked about as-

Nick: You can stop anytime now.

Richard: Child, please.

Cross forces another kickout. Douglas grunts and looks down at his adversary, wondering how much physical abuse this man can take. Going back to the grind, Douglas brings Cross up and shoots him off into the ropes. Closing the distance, Douglas attempts to nail a clothesline straight to the throat, pretty much ending all hopes that Cross has. Instead, he ducks underneath, gets his bearings, and connects with a boot to the jaw of an unsuspecting Douglas. The big man drops to the canvas and Cross gets a chance to catch his breath.

Nick: The opportunity that he needs to make something happen.

Richard: Or at least he hopes that'll be the case.

Douglas struggles up to his feet, and is aided by a willing Cross, who delivers a forearm to the head, and throws Douglas out into the middle of the ring with a hip toss. Cross runs off the ropes hard and connects with a front dropkick to the face of Douglas. Cross runs off the ropes and connects on a short leg drop across the chest of Douglas before scurrying to the ring apron and scaling up the ropes.

Nick: The newcomer going high risk. You know the adage with this.

Richard: High risk, soar balls?

Nick: ...Yes, Richard.

Richard: See, finally got one right.

Cross crouches down on the top rope, getting himself ready before taking flight through the air. He executes a frog splash that slams down onto Troy Douglas. Seizing the opportunity, Cross stays on top and the referee dives into position.

ONE!

TWO!

THREENOO!

Richard: Douglas preserving once again.

Nick: Yippie. I have no stakes in this match. I only bet a C note.

Douglas manages to kick out. A collective sigh emerges from the crowd while Cross looks up at the referee and holds out three fingers, to which Bernie Roberts just shakes his head. Cross slams his hands into the canvas and gets up to a standing position. Douglas closes his eyes in pain while Cross puts a boot into his head and contemplates his next move.

Nick: Could be going for the end right here. Cross could be on the fast track.

Cross brings Douglas back up to his feet, lands a forearm, and latches his arms around Douglas’s waist. Spinning around, Cross slings Douglas over in a belly to belly side suplex. Cross bounces back up and exits the ring one more time, ascending the ropes and measuring Douglas while on the ground. Cross gets in the right position on the top rope and leaps into the air, knowing that once he connects on this move, the match will be all but over.

Nick: Cross is one move away from cementing his status in PRIME.

Then something he doesn’t expect happens, Douglas rolls out of the way at the last possible second, Cross lands on his ass and hops around the ring in agony.

Richard: Oops

Troy shakes off the pain and starts to rise up to a standing position. Douglas pushes himself up to a standing position and beckons Cross to bring it on. Cross finally stops hurting and tries to save face in the match, but gets belted with a hard right hand.

Nick: Here comes Megatron.

Douglas advances forward, delivering a knee to the midsection before throwing Cross off into the ropes. Douglas closes the gap and connects on a hard lariat, sending Cross down to the canvas. Instinctively, Cross shoots back up and right into another lariat. Down again, Cross shoots back up and this time receives an implant DDT for his troubles. Douglas scrambles back to his feet, sets his feet, rushes forward, leaps into the air, and connects on a Senton back splash. Douglas stays on top for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREEEE!

AWWWWWWW!

Richard: Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

Nick: How the hell does it count in hand grenades?

Richard: Something I've been wondering myself.

Cross manages to escape defeat again. Douglas yanks him up to a standing position and slugs him across the face with a right hand. Cross is just about out right now, and Douglas is doing everything to keep him there. Douglas lifts Cross up over his head and military presses him, walking around the ring to show his superior strength, Cross freefalls downward, right into a massive European uppercut that sends him spinning in the air. Douglas does not allow him to drop to the canvas, locking him around the waist and flinging him overhead in a release German suplex.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Douglas stomps down on the back of Cross before bringing him up in the corner. Douglas unleashes a headbutt before taking a hold of Cross by the throat, again tossing him overhead but this time in a choke suplex. Cross slides to the other side of the ring, up against the ring post, which is the only thing saving him from falling to the floor. Douglas bull rushes across the ring and connects with a nasty dropkick to the back, sending Cross sternum first into the ring post. Troy pulls Jacob back to the center of the ring and lands a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREEAWWWWWW!

Nick: Another kickout from Cross. We might not be well versed when it comes to him, but the man can certainly take a beating.

Richard: So he'll always have a home here.

Cross kicks out one more time to the chagrin of Douglas. The big man ponders his next move quickly before bringing Cross up and shoving him against the ropes. Douglas delivers a welting knife edge chop before putting Cross up on the top rope and climbing up to meet him. Douglas staggers Cross with a right hand before standing him up and hooking him around the waist for a potential suplex off the top rope.

Nick: This could get nasty.

Cross apparently hears his boy and takes a shot at the right leg of Douglas, sending him off the top rope and back into the ring. Douglas stumbles backwards, desperately trying to gain his balance before charging back at Cross. Cross flies through the air, trying to connect on a cross body block. Douglas tries to catch him, but the momentum drops Douglas down to the ground. Cross rolls away and ascends the top rope one more time, his back to the ring. Cross jumps with all of his might through the air, arching himself for a picture perfect moonsault on Douglas.

Richard: Ok, that was kind of awesome.

Nick: Douglas is finding out that he can't take Jacob Cross down as easily as he might have thought going into the match.

Douglas catches him and uses the momentum to carry him over and plant him with a powerslam. Both men take their time rising to their feet, but it is a wild swing from Cross that gets him a kick to the gut. Douglas locks the head of Cross and spins him 180 degrees, but Cross keeps a hold of the bicep and tugs his way out, facing Douglas in a belly to back manner. His knees go up and look for the spine of Douglas, intent on driving him backwards into the canvas, 230 pounds of momentum colliding with his back. Cross calls it the Cross Cut.

Richard: Douglas slipped away.

But it doesn't come. Troy Douglas has enough ring presence to slip away from the predicament and keep hold of Cross' legs. Megatron shifts his body around and launches Douglas into the ring post with a catapult.

When he comes back, he is prime and ready for Douglas' End of the Road.

Nick: END OF THE ROAD! COVER!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

DING! DING! DING!

Vince Howard: Your winner of the match...TROYYYYYYYYY DOUGLAS!

Nick: Douglas picks up a much needed victory over Jacob Cross.

Richard: Kid had a prime opportunity to get the victory but Douglas was just not ready to go down.

Nick: Cross is definitely not going away after one match. He gave Douglas a pretty good run for his money, but Megatron wanted it more tonight.

Richard: Cross is going to be back, if for nothing else to get Douglas. I don't think the guy likes losing.

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Nick: ReVolution 204 is already shaping up to be an insane night.

Richard: The Hall of Famers are coming out of the woodwork.

Nick: Lindsay Troy is on her way to the building and Hoyt Williams is already back on the roster.

Richard: Plus, we have the usual cavalcade of characters roaming through the corridors. I have a feeling this is going to be one of the most combustible shows on record.

Nick: Not to mention we have two matches remaining. The boiling hot Chainz takes on Elise Ares, Tony Gamble and a mystery opponent, we're supposed to hear from Jay Phoenix-

Richard: Syanara, sucker.

Nick: And who knows what other personality will come out-

GOD SAID THAT A MAN SHOULD WORK WITH HIS HANDS!

The infamous words spoken to Tyler Rayne moments before he was decimated in the Dual Halo resonate throughout the building. The source of said voice sends white hot heat through the crowd.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Oh, Lord.

Richard: The baddest personality on the planet is about to strut out here. Get ya popcorn ready.

All the lights shut off. Pitch black. Sporadic lighters pop up throughout the crowd, but the rage of enthusiastic PRIME fans only intensifies as Peter Frampton slowly glides his fingers over an acoustic guitar in the fashion of Chris Cornell. This man doesn't have many fans anywhere he goes.

Nick: At Colossus, he managed to put Bryan Dawkins down in the biggest match of the youngster's career. We've got a report from the PRIME doctors and they have medically suspended The Flyin' Hawaiian until after Great American Nightmare.

A cascading wave of black pyrotechnics sends smoke out into the people and a pair of dark brown eyes invade the PRIME*View.

SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS!

Richard: Hate on him all you want but he's one of the hottest commodities in the wrestling world today. The unwanted mercenary. Nobody wants to go near him.

Nick: For their financial and professional career, they would be wise not to.

Richard: Because he's the nastiest. Ever since coming back from the devastating injury, he hasn't lost a single match.

The curtain is thrown open. With a long leather trench coat covering his body, Shak Diesel steps onto the stage and cracks a mischievous smile. Trailing a step behind is 'The Biker' Christian Daniels fresh from a Sons of Anarchy guest spot. The Man in Black's eyes scan through the egregious Kansas crowd, angry fists, middle fingers and slanderous signs aplenty in every direction. He walks off the stage and down the aisle, bobbing and weaving his head like a champion boxer away from the debris gunning for his dome.

Nick: Well there's a consensus amongst the locker room that nobody wants to step in the ring with him. Look at the case against him: He's the stiffest worker on the roster, holds empathy for absolutely no one, and has shelved two wrestlers at the last two Pay-Per-Views.

Richard: Yet, dude still gets paid off the wall moolah. I think he'll take it. Lisa Tyler won't let anybody drive him out of the place.

The ignorant masses continue to berate the former Universal Champion while he gets closer to the squared circle. Vince Howard steps in between the ropes and leaves the microphone for Shakur to grab at his own leisure. Once The Man in Black hits the mats, those who are within arms reach look for a swipe. Christian plays his role to perfection, extending his massive paw back and begging someone to retaliate. While the haters might be hardcore and passionate, Christian doesn't have a gimmick. He'd really strike a fan if they came after him. He's done it before.

Shakur slips past Christian and ascends the stairs with military precision, further taunting the fans stationed behind him. The Biker gives one final glance before jumping on the apron himself and stepping over the top rope with ease. Tucking his trenchcoat, Shakur saunters over the middle rope and walks over to the microphone, scooping it with his left hand and standing front and center of the ring. All eyes are on him once the music stops.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And the grin on Shakur's grill could fill seven Tony Gamble posters.

Nick: No doubt he's going to gloat about Dawkins injury. A guy like him can't resist.

Richard: Gloating becomes second nature when you are the best at putting people out.

The Man in Black raises the microphone slightly and feels the heat from those in attendance. He glances over at the camera and senses the temperature increase. A few televisions in Hawaii and California have just been shattered.

SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS!

Shak Daddy exchanges a look with his brother and twirls the microphone around his fingers.

Richard: I always love the reaction he gets because you know any of these clowns would trade their left nut to be in Shakur's position.

Looking down at his Rolex, Shakur decides to put an end to the presentation and places the mic under his mouth. Dropping the free hand into the left dress pocket, it returns with a note card. Shakur squints and places the paper back in his pocket.

Devin Shakur: ...HOW, Kansas.

Richard: That means hello around these parts. See, he even went to the trouble of learning their language.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Devin Shakur: Let's cut through all the garbage right now and get to the nitty gritty...Colossus was great, right?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Devin Shakur: You had Jason Natas blackmail Jay Phoenix into leaving PRIME. Jason Snow won both Championships, thus officially making him the best guy never to beat Devin Shakur.

Nick: He's never faced Devin Shakur.

Richard: Details, Nick, details.

Devin Shakur: Tyler Nelson ruined the fairytale farewell for Killean and...What was that other notable moment from the show? I'm drawing a blank. Although, I believe the monkeys in the truck have the answer for me. Roll it, scaliwags.

Colossus VI

The Man in Black has Bryan Dawkins locked upside down and just delivered two solid knees to the temple. The Bruh is dangling from Shakur's arms and his muscles are shaking to hold the 200 pounds up. He's been beaten from pillar to post and exerted a mountain of strength for this one moment of satisfaction and nothing will deny him.

Shakur plummets down and slams Dawkins neck into the canvas. The impact resonates throughout Dawkins body and numbs him from the neck down. He's not paralyzed but when he fully comes to, he might wish he was. Shakur makes the academic cover and ends the match.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

DING! DING! DING!

The Landon Arena has shot up quite a few decibels after seeing one of the most beloved wrestlers demolished by someone so ruthless.

Devin Shakur: Ah...yes, Bryan Dawkins was taken behind the barn and PUT...DOWN!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Devin Shakur: The perfect comeuppance for me turned out to be the biggest nightmare of that poor bastard's existence. I proved beyond any shadow of a shadow's doubt that Bryan Dawkins doesn't belong in the big leagues, and has no right to get in my face over anything. I've put that miserable wannabe down three times now. Hopefully, the inability to feel anything below his neck will register the message I've been trying to send this whole time. Stop trying to avenge Tyler Rayne and stop trying to bring me down just because I'm the poster boy for assholes. Nobody in that locker room has both the physical and mental package to stand up to me. Plus, you gotta deal with that tattooed ogre I always hang around with.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Christian Daniels produces his best smile, worthy enough of being on a Sugar Free Orbit gum commercial. Fabulous.

Devin Shakur: Now the next question is obvious, where does The Man in Black go from here? There are a lot of avenues accessible and nobody appears willing to engage with anybody around these parts. The only people with balls appear to be the Wolves of Slaughter and one always has to wonder which of them has the bigger set.

Nick: He's got a natural abrasiveness that just dropped his Christmas card list by 2.

Richard: He'll probably get it all the way down to just Tony Gamble by the end of this.

Devin Shakur: I think with that snide little remark I just put the kabash on rumors that I was the one who purchased the Universal Championship shot. Why the hell would I need to do something like that when I've had the boss eating out of my hand for the entire year? Although, nobody has willingly thrown their name into the hat against Jason Snow...

Richard: Oh My GOD he's not going to. Hold my hand, Nick, I might need to be restrained.

Devin Shakur: He's pranced around for God knows how long claiming to be the best wrestler in the world. Everybody else in PRIME is now fighting for third place? Snow, seriously, if I gave a damn about getting into the 2 time Universal club, I'd get shot ahead of everybody on the contender list and drive you up the wall before bringing you down to your knees. I'm the one pariah in this federation who could combat you move for move and make you more paranoid than Nixon. However, I'll leave that to the people who love shiny shiny gold rather than the fear of the wrestling business. You are safe for now.

Richard: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: That could have been a dream match, although God help the ozone layer if they both got microphones in the same place.

Devin Shakur: So, with Snow being out of the mix, who else does that leave?

From the left side of the crowd nearest the stage, one name starts growing louder and louder, encompassing The Man in Black.

TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA!

Nick: That would appear to be the next logical step for Shakur. The last of the Three Amigos.

Richard: I think Tsonda is the one person even Shakur can't stand.

Nick: Someone more narcissistic than Shakur? GTFO.

Richard: Did you actually just said GTFO?

Devin Shakur: So you want me to go down that road again? I suppose the situation is pretty idealistic. Tsonda's back is deteriorating faster than our economy and someone with my firepower could certainly put a massive dent, perhaps complete annihilation, of whatever workable parts are left in that spine. Completely ruin the Three Amigos once and for all, stake my claim as the most diabolical wrestler of the year.

TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA! TSONDA!

Devin Shakur: ...Yeah, I'm gonna take a pass on him too.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: I think Shakur is scared of Tsonda. It's the last significant loss of his career.

Richard: Why would Shakur front on anybody when he's got Daniels as muscle? He's not afraid to get involved in matches either.

Devin Shakur: Yeah, the kid took the gold away from me in my home state. Pretty humiliating I know. So I should have revenge in my heart and be willing to go to the ends of the Earth, right? Nope. Chandler Tsonda went onto be the longest reigning Universal Champion in PRIME history and then what happened? He turned into a second rate embarrassment of a Champion. He turned into an ambulance chaser at UltraViolence and got bogged down with Slingblade at Colossus. Where is he at now? Stuck in purgatory trying to leech onto the latest brigade of people opposing the boss. Charming. Look at where I'm at. The most feared entity amongst the locker room and wrestling world. Not to mention I'm a lot healthier at the moment. People aren't creating websites and laying odds on when I'm going to be crippled. I have a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, Chandler Tsonda's self destruction. I don't need to do anything because all the damage is going to be done regardless of whether I step in. I'll bring a bean bag chair, call Gambs, and get some big chuckles over it.

Nick: Well that put a damper on a lot of hopes.

Richard: I'm sure Shakur really cares about other people's hopes.

Devin Shakur: So who does that leave? Well, kids, I'll give you the real 411. I'm going to coast around this joint and pick my own spots to strike. I'll choose my victims when I am ready and willing. Nobody on the roster has more pull than I do, and nobody is in more with Lisa Tyler. Chainz might be in his dreams, but that's neither here nor there.

Richard: Could you imagine their kids? Bald headed with those creepy eyes and that dinosaur look? Ewww.

Devin Shakur: There's a little nugget of information I've got to share with you. It's going to make a lot of you happy because I know how much I'm adored all around the world.

Richard: He's number one in South Korea and Japan. Suck it, Rain.

Devin Shakur: My PRIME contract expires December 31st...And I've got no plans of renewing it.

The place?

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Explodes.

Richard: WHAT?

Nick: Now that is truly AWESOME news.

Richard: HOWCANYOUBESOCRUEL? OMG NO! Get me my hanky!

The roar of applause goes on for about twenty good seconds. Shakur bows and taps the microphone against his chest, waiting.

He might be waiting a while.

Richard: WHY, DEVIN, WHY?

Devin Shakur: D-

NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH, HEY, HEY, HEY, GET THE FUCK OUT!

Shakur refers back to his Rolex.

Devin Shakur: It's September morons, I'm not going anywhere until the end of the year. You still have to put up with me for four more months, and rest assure I'm going to make all of them miserable for you. Those who I come across in the back, be warned, I've got nothing hanging over my head. I've got nothing left to lose. I can't be fired. I can't be suspended. I've got free reign to do whatever I want while you have to answer to the boss.

Richard: This is truly a sad moment.

Nick: I'll print up a Hallmark card for you.

Richard: Much thanks.

Nick: (mumbles) Idiot.

Devin Shakur: Enjoy me while I last, losers. And don't expect me to turn up in another promotion. I'm not turning into a free agent or pulling a Luger and showing up somewhere two days after the contract expires. To the rest of PRIME watching on the monitors and getting ready for your matches, know that you are now on notice. Since I'm going down, I'm looking to take as many people as I can with me. End as many careers as I can. If you end up booked against me, consider it your last moment in the sun. As for who that might be next...I'm sure you'll find out in due time.

"Black Hole Sun" kicks up over the sound system and Shakur flips the microphone toward the ropes and steps out of the ring. A good percentage of the crowd still give him the business, but a number have been silenced. He just announced his official retirement date.

Nick: Well one bombshell after another is coming tonight. Hoyt returns, Troy is on her way, and now Shakur has said he's head hunting the locker room while putting himself on a lease.

Richard: So...so...sad. HOLD ME, NICK!

Nick: Oh, lord. Can we go to the back, please? Please?

The camera follows Shakur up the stage and through the curtain before cutting elsewhere.

The scene shifts to the backstage area where Matt Mills stands with a huge, cheesy grin on his face to greet the fans watching at home. Slowly raising the microphone up to his lips he looks directly into the camera, as if he's gazing into your soul...

Matt Mills: I'd like to welcome you to the backstage area tonight, I'm Matt Mills and I'm here with the PRIME World Tag Team Champions... Elise Ares and Kazys Jankauskas, The Wolves Of Slaughter.

Panning out it's revealed that the Tag Team Champions are standing right out of the last field of view, proudly holding their championships over their shoulders. Elise Ares smiles and waves at the camera while Kazys Jankauskas simply looks over the much smaller Matt Mills. Mills went on, beginning to think inviting Wolves to do this interview might've been the worst decision he made all night.

Mills: So at Revolution 200 you two were the last two members of the PRIME roster standing and walked out with banked title shots. At Colossus, you walked in heavily favored and walked out the new Tag Team Champions. So with your first appearance on Revolution after winning the titles, and your first opportunity to use your banked title shots you instead decide to sel...

Elise Ares: Alright, this dialogue has gone far too long without me saying anything.

Scratch that. Giving Elise Ares a mic was the worst decision he'd made all night.

Elise: I'd like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to all my Facebook fans, now reaching one billion and counting. To my girls back in Hawaiian Tropics and my close friend Kanye.

Kazys Jankauskas: You don't have a Facebook page... and you sure don't know Kanye.

Elise: Shush Kaz, you're ruining my street cred.

Mills: Uh...

Matt Mills seems at a loss for words as they duo finish talking amongst themselves.

Mills: Right. You announced in dramatic fashion that Kazys Jankauskas' Universal Title shot has been sold. Kaz, are you willing to reveal the identity of the buyer.

Elise: Let's just say that we got one hell of a deal for it. We're not quite the "charitable" type. Things aren't given away to you, they're earned. If you want something you have to have something special. You see, Kaz and I, we're once in a generation. You're witnessing history. When you're as good as we are, we don't need banked title shots. We can win whatever we want, whenever we want to.

Kazys: That isn't exactly how it went...

Mills: Well how did it go? What type of deal could possibly wiggle that shot out of your grasp? It must've been an offer you couldn't refuse.

Elise: What are you, the freakin Godfather? Christo. We didn't need it.

Mills: We?

Elise: Kaz and I... we're a team. Thus the matching belts.

Mills: ...I get that. But what I don't get is why Kazys would work so hard for that shot only to sell it away...

Elise: Whoa, this interview is way too focused on Kazys. I don't wanna tell you how to do your job... uhh... damn. What's his name Kaz?

Rolling his eyes Kazys answers under his breath.

Kazys: Matt.

Elise: Yes, MATT. But when you look like I do, you might want to make me the center of attention because lets be honest... everyone is looking at me anyway, am I right? They don't want to know about Kazys Jankauskas. They want to know about he pretty girl in the bikini top. They don't want to see yoooou, they want to see meeeee. It's a proven fact that ratings triple while I'm on the air Matt. Did you know that?

Matt: Well, I was looking over last week's Nielson's earlier...

Elise: HEY!

Elise snaps her fingers in Matt Mills' face.

Elise: Escuchame!

Mills: I don't speak Spanish.

Elise looks back at Matt Mills, and then over at Kazys standing over her shoulder, and then back at Matt Mills again.

Elise: Gimme that!

The Swaggeriffic One rips the second microphone out of Matt Mills' hand and pushes him out of the frame before tossing the extra mic to her tag team partner. Pulling out some hand sanitizer out of her back pocket she hands the other mic to Kazys to wash her hands before taking it back once again.

Elise: Let me show you how it's done, tubby.

Straightening out her ring attire and fixing her hair a bit, Elise looks back at the camera with a smile.

Elise: This is one half of the greatest tag team in the history of PRIME Elise Ares here with a breaking story. I have next to me the former holder of the banked Universal Title shot Kazys Jankauskas. So Kazys, while the purchaser of the title shot remains a mystery... when do you think the identity of the individual could possibly be revealed.

Kazys: You know... next week sounds like a great time to let everyone know.

Elise: I couldn't agree with you more Kaz. Now I'm ready for my close-up.

The camera focuses in on Elise Ares, who smirks with satisfaction.

Elise: After next week... everything is going to make sense. Until then, get behind your little keyboards and speculate who it's gonna be. Shine lights on every little detail until you know exactly what's going to go down. Because we made the deal of all deals ladies and gentlemen. A once in a lifetime opportunity that's so brilliant it would've never crossed your simple minds.

She pauses looking directly into the camera.

Elise: Next week... PRIME will never be the same.

The Swaggeriffic One looks down at Matt Mills who is still watching from the ground at her feet.

Elise: That's how you break a story.

With those words Elise throws the microphone onto the floor next to PRIME's belittled interviewer. Walking out of the scene, she's followed by The Iron Wolf who flips his microphone over Mills' head. Gathering up his equipment, the scene fades out as Mills himself tries to figure out what they could've possibly done.

PREVIOUSLY RECORDED

Standing in front of the catering tables in the backstage area is a tag team that hasn't been seen since Colossus. Well, the only team that has been seen has been the Wolves, but as much as they would like the World to believe it, they are not the only team left in PRIME. There are still at least two men on the roster that haven't just given up and walked away with their tails stuck between their legs.

Those two men each have a plate in their hand as they strafe along the table filled with various sandwiches and pastries, searching for something to dine on before the show starts. It is as Marquis reaches for a chicken salad sandwich on wheat that a voice is heard.

"Nice to see you guys back around."

Referee Tommy Giles walks into the room and pats each man on their back as he reaches for a plate of his own.

Peeples: It isn't like we've been gone for a year or anything, Tommy.

Tommy smiles and nods his head.

Giles: I know, but with the jerks we've had performing the last few shows, it's nice to see a couple of guys that aren't looking to push their luck on a nightly basis..

Dawkins: We have a little respect for the refs, Tommy. Maybe not you, but a few of the others are alright.

Tommy turns to his right as he places some lettuce on his plate, and sees Tyrell winking in his direction.

Giles: Whatever.

Peeples: I bet you're wearing a pair of Elise Ares panties right now.

Giles: You guys suck.

The Redeemed get a good laugh from Tommy's reply.

Dawkins: We're just messing with you, Tommy.

Giles: You still suck.

Tommy places a few tomatoes, some cucumber, and a bit of fat free ranch dressing on top of the bed of lettuce on his plate.

Peeples: You really upset about that comment or are you wearing the panties?

Giles: I don't wear panties!

Marquis walks over and pats Tommy on the back, a couple of tuna salad sandwiches on his plate.

Dawkins: This reminds me a lot of Shrek 2, except your nose isn't growing.

All three men are laughing now as they walk over to the table and take their seats.

Giles: So you guys back, or what?

Peeples: Yeah, we're back. Don't have a match, but we wanted to make sure Tyler knows we're not just gonna disappear like the rest of the teams that were on the roster.

Dawkins: I still can't believe the way teams dropped like flies once Ares and Kaz won those titles.

Giles stuffs a fork full of salad into his mouth, but it doesn't keep him from talking between chews.

Giles: Jus goes...ta show...you...dat dey haf...no heart.

Dawkins: Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about that with us. We want another shot at those titles, and we're going to let Tyler know that we're not gonna back down.

Peeples: Of course, if you're not killing people or trying to knock her from her throne, it's real hard to get her to see you.

Tommy shrugs his shoulders, swallowing down his food and chasing it with a bit of iced tea.

Giles: Yeah, certain people on this roster kind of demand a bit more attention than others the way they walk around like no one can touch them.

Almost as if on cue, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a royal blue button up shirt, is Tony 'The Grin' Gamble.

Gamble: See, I told you we weren't the only idiots here early.

As always, Tony is trailed by the four man entourage of two guys dressed like Oompa Loompas and a couple of midget luchadores in orange and green that represent their love of vegetables. It doesn't take long for them to drop down on the floor in a fit of fear, tears streaming down their masks as they point at Tommy stuffing his face with their brethren.

Giles: Oh, you'f goft to be kirrin me.

Yes, he has yet another mouthful of food.

Peeples: Shouldn't those things be on leashes or something?

It is Burgundy that defends his little(er?) buddies.

Burgundy: Shouldn't you be at home praying for a dying kid or something? You know, anything besides twiddling your thumbs while you wait for the Wolves to keel over and die so you can stand a chance at winning those titles.

Gamble: Ooooh!

Always the instigator, Tony rushes over and stands behind the three men, his hands on a shoulder of each of the Redeemed.

Gamble: You gonna let that little bastard talk to you like that?

Marquis is the first to brush Tony's hand off his shoulder, rising up from his seat with a glare of contempt in his eyes as he turns to face the PRIME veteran.

Dawkins: I know you don't want to start this night off on the wrong foot, so I suggest you back up.

Tyrell is up on his feet as well, ready for anything as Tommy sits there with a fork full of salad hovering a few inches from his half opened mouth.

Peeples: Actually, I suggest you get your rag tag assortment of fools and get out of here.

Pink: We ain't scared of you, fools.

Dawkins: And I don't feel like punting you into next week for no good reason. So why don't you sing and dance your happy little butts out of here and give us some peace.

Gamble: Okay, okay. We just wanted to grab some drinks and some finger foods. We'll just come back when the room isn't filled with a bunch of whiny babies.

Tony motions for his crew to head back out of the room, and Pink and Burgundy do what they can to help Tossed Salad to their feet. But no one said they are being cordial while they do it.

Burgundy: When you guys are done licking your wounds, why don't you come look us up.

Pink: Yeah, we can more than sing and dance.

Tony pats his little dobermans on the back.

Gamble: Settle down boys, no need to brag. It's not their fault they can't wrestle.

Tyrell grabs a hold of Marquis' arm before he rushes toward the pint sized group.

Dawkins: Why you little...

The group makes their way out of the room, but Tony pokes his head back through the open doorway.

Gamble: Any of you know who I'm facing tonight?

Dawkins: No, but I'd be glad to fill the spot.

Gamble: Riiiiight.

Once again, the Permascar Superstar disappears from view. It is then that Tyrell notices that Giles is still frozen with fear.

Peeples: Hey, Tommy, you alright?

When he receives no answer, Tyrell shakes him on the shoulder.

Giles: I think I need to change my panties.

Dawkins: I TOLD YOU!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phoenix stands on the ramp way, the flame still bright behind him, as the music still plays. He is dressed in black jeans and a sleeveless balck t-shirt, with his hair tied back in a pony tail that hangs nearly to his waist. A silver necklace hangs around his neck, falling down to his chest, and when the light catches it at the right angle it can be seen to be a disc containing thin interlocking strands, a bright purple amethyst at it's centre … a dreamcatcher.

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

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

A smile plays across Phoenix's face as he pans his attention around the arena before slowly walking down towards the ring. When he gets to the ring, Phoenix, with a quick move, jumps to the ring apron and climbs between the ropes, pausing for a second as a technician hands him a microphone before he moves to stand in the centre of the ring.

Richard: Well I have to say that I wasn’t expecting to see him here tonight!

Nick: I wasn’t expecting to see him again. He lost the ‘I Quit’ match two weeks ago on Colossus and, as a result, no longer works for PRIME.

Richard: Maybe no-one told him that?

Jay Phoenix: You know, I have spent the last two weeks trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say when I came out here and, all that I have been able to think about is what on Earth is so good about goodbye?

Nick: That explains it – he’s come to say goodbye!

Jay Phoenix: One of life’s biggest oxymorons is a word that has ‘good’ in it when it means letting go, saying farewell and basically accepting the fact that there is no point in fighting the inevitable … when it is time to go it is simply time to go.

Richard: Did he just call someone a moron?

Jay Phoenix: And when that time comes it makes you think. In my case I realised that as one chapter closes I haven’t been all that fair to PRIME or to the PRIMEates that have done nothing but support me since I stepped foot in a PRIME ring – since day one I made no secret of the fact that I didn’t really want to be here, that I felt bullied and trapped into wrestling here. So I didn’t really give one hundred percent. I held back and I phoned things in.

Richard: Some of those calls must have been long distance!

Jay Phoenix: And then, last Christmas, I ran into Jason Natas for the first time and things, to be honest, went from bad to worse. It wasn’t just the powers that be that I was fighting but it was Natas and his cronies – like Hunter Sabuani. Each and every night I would be stepping into the PRIME arena and fighting a war on two fronts … a war against people like Cantrell or Tyler and a war against people like Sabuani and Natas.

Nick: I wonder if any of them had the WMDs?

Jay Phoenix: And I was so busy fighting that war, fighting everyone that I thought was against me, that I didn’t realise that I had the best friends – the best allies – that anyone could have.

Richard: Is he talking about DUI … or Dawkins … I mean who else is he friends with?

Jay Phoenix: I forgot that no matter what I was going through, or how low I felt, I still had each and everyone of you guys. The fans!

RARGH! That audience pop.

Richard: … I feel sick.

Jay Phoenix: Maybe if I had remembered that sooner, maybe if I had realised that it wasn’t just me and Rick against the World but that I had each and everyone of you behind me, things would have been different; maybe Colossus wouldn’t have ended the way it did and I wouldn’t be out here apologising to you all for letting you down …

I aaaaam smellin’ like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed…

The PRIME*view flickers into life as a bold, black typeface flashes intermittently with action shots.

A N T I

"And maybe my fookin’ ears wouldn’t be bleedin’ havin’ to listen to ya whine anymore!"

A short pause before the lyrics kick in again.

I aaaaam smellin’ like the rose
That somebody gave me
‘Cause I’m dead and bloated!

Finally Stone Temple Pilots kick in with "Dead and Bloated" as PRIME’s Anti-Superstar appears at the top of the ramp, gazing disdainfully out across the hordes of jeering masses. Eventually Jason Natas begins his descent, cracking his knuckles as he walks down the ramp at a slow but steady pace.

After reaching the bottom of the ramp Jason climbs up the ring steps and walks along the outside of the apron. With one hand on the top rope, he turns and offers a fierce sneer to the masses before eventually turning and entering the ring.

Jason Natas: What the Hell is it with ya, boyo, that ya just can’t seem to do anything right? You lost, big time, against me two weeks ago yet here ya are – in MY ring – talkin’ and talkin’ and talkin’! Why don’t ya just say the two words that you really need ta say and get outta here!

Jay Phoenix: And which would they be?

Jason Natas: Ya really are as slow as shite, aren’t ya? Good. Bye!

Jay Phoenix: Well, there are two things – not words – that I have to say to that, first of all, so bear with me, Jase.

Nick: ‘Jase’! Since when was Jay so firendly with Natas?

Richard: Since when was he so laid back and comfortable around Natas?

Jay Phoenix: The first thing, you moron, is that goodbye is one word, not two. The second thing is that I want to remind you of the two words that are more important – the two words that brought me out here … I QUIT.

Jason Natas: I remember them very well, boyo, and so should you. You said them at Colossus and now you don’t need to retire anymore – I forced ya outta PRIME!

Jay Phoenix: Well, let’s just say – and humour me here – that I am as stupid as you think, for a moment. Remind me of the rules of the match.

Jason Natas: Simple – the loser of the match is ta leave PRIME for good. So, go on – get outta here!

Jay Phoenix: The loser of the match … you mean like this?

Phoenix points up at the big screen where, right on cue, images from Colossus play out.



Phoenix suddenly grins, glancing at the chair on the canvas and making a quick move towards it. Natas face blanches, shocked that he may have misjudged the Native American wrestler and his gaze follows Phoenix’s movement – which is all he needs. Ignoring the chair completely he nips forwards, using the momentum to lift his leg and catch a stunned Natas directly under the chin with a text book perfect superkick. Poleaxed, eyes rolling back in his head, Natas falls to the canvas.

Nick: Lights out!

Richard: That was a sucker punch …

Nick: Sucker kick, actually.

Richard: You know what I mean. Phoenix feinted for the chair and then hit Natas with a kick instead.

Nick: … and you are complaining because, instead of using a foreign object, he used an actual wrestling move?

Richard: Yes!

Catching his breath, Phoenix runs over the prone Natas and jumps through the ropes. Taking a moment to prepare himself he hauls himself up onto the middle of the top rope before somersaulting into the ring and crashing across Natas’ chest with a leg drop.

Nick: The Phoenix Rising!

Wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand, visibly struggling to breathe through his broken nose, Phoenix hooks one of Natas legs and leans back into the pinfall.

Richard: Erm – what is he doing?

Nick: Going for the pin, obviously.

Richard: … but this is an ‘I Quit’ match; there are no pinfalls.

Nick: Which is what the referee seems to be telling him right now.

The referee kneels down beside Phoenix, muttering into his ear. Phoenix shakes his head and shouts, loud enough for the front row to easily hear, that the referee should do his job and count. When he doesn’t, they do. The count is taken up by the audience.

ONE

Richard: Ok, Phoenix has had a few shots to the head, so doesn’t know what he is doing …

TWO

Richard: … but the audience should really know better!

THREE

Flopping weakly off Natas, Phoenix gets to his feet and stumbles to the corner where he leans against the ropes, letting them do most of the work in keeping him upright. The referee comes to check him, asking if he can continue, and Phoenix just nods.



Jason Natas: What the Hell was that?

Jay Phoenix: Jase, that was me pinning you – cleanly – in the middle of the ring.

Jason Natas: Who the fook cares? It didn’t count – pinfalls didn’t count in that match!

Jay Phoenix: Oh yeah – you’re right. How about this then?

Once more he indicates the big screen and, with a face like thunder, Natas turns to watch yet another flashback to two weeks ago.



Nick: I don’t know how he did it but Phoenix has turned the tide!

As quickly as he can Phoenix moves to Natas and pulls the big man towards the ropes. Placing him face down Phoenix quickly steps through his legs, tying them up as he sits back in the move he calls the Fade Out – his patented version of the sharpshooter. As soon as it is locked in a dazed Natas lifts his head, eyes wide, and begins to struggle for freedom. Putting all of his weight, all of his strength, into the move, Phoenix sits back and locks in tight.

Richard: I would have bet money that Phoenix couldn’t get Natas to submit but now, after everything that has happened, I am not so sure.

Natas looks around the ring, head moving from side to side as he tries to break free. He sees the chair, inches away from him, and stretches for it but his fingers don’t even graze the metal. He tries to push out of the move but Phoenix, a master of the Fade Out, has it locked in perfectly and Natas can’t get out. Sweat pours down his face, neck muscles bulge and then, finally, teeth clenched tightly his hand taps at the mat. Hearing it Phoenix drops the hold, leaning forwards and panting for breath as the referee dazedly slides into the ring. Grabbing him by the shirt Phoenix indicates that Natas tapped out but the referee shakes his head.

Nick: I am pretty sure that the referee is telling Phoenix tow things – one, he didn’t see Natas tap out and two, it wouldn’t matter anyway. He didn’t say ‘I Quit’.

Richard: You know I REALLY think that Phoenix should see a brain doctor after this match – he is acting a little weird.

Nick: He’s a veteran wrestler, Richard, it is instinct to try to pin your opponent or make him tap out.

Richard: Not in an ‘I Quit’ match!

Natas turns to face Phoenix as the images fade from the screen, his face red with fury.

Jason Natas: Listen boyo, I know that ya think that you are being funny with all of these little home movies but it doesn’t matter … as they said on the night pinfalls and submissions don’t matter. You could only win the match by doing one thing …

Jay Phoenix *interrupting*: … I know that, Jason, I know that all too well. I was just proving a point. You see what that feed shows is something very, very simple. I can pin you, I can make you tap out … I. CAN. BEAT. YOU!

Jason Natas: But you didn’t you frikkin’ idiot! You didn’t!

Jay Phoenix: No? … are you sure?

Jason Natas: ‘course I am. I made the damn rules, remember? The only way to win that match was to make your opponent say ‘I Quit’ – I wanted to hear you beg me to stop and it worked. You stupid little pussy … you begged, alright, you begged like a bitch so that I wouldn’t hurt your boyfriend anymore!

Phoenix’s face pales as his knuckles tighten on the microphone. The audience still as the tension builds and, moving down the ramp to the ring, come a veritable army of referees and trainers as if expecting trouble to erupt at any moment. Suddenly though, the unexpected happens.

Phoenix laughs.

Jay Phoenix: Stupid? Oh no, Jason. You see I will admit that, for a while, I WAS stupid. I let you break me down, little by little, and play games with my mind. Then YOU did something stupid – you pushed me too far when you threatened Rick. At that moment you did the single most stupid thing in your pathetic excuse for a life – you threatened the man that I love!

Jason Natas: It doesn’t matter …

Jay Phoenix: Shut the Hell up Natas! You see you thought that you were playing me but, guess what? I have been in this game for a long, long time and – when I remembered that I didn’t have to be the victim, and that the best defence is always an offence – I played YOU!!! I worked you into making the biggest mistake of your career!

Jason Natas: Too little too late, boyo – you’re all hot air!

Jay Phoenix: Really? Think about it – each week I talked about retiring, about running away, about leaving PRIME. About quitting. Finally the message sunk into that think skul of yours and – with what you thought was a flash of inspiration – you made our match an ‘I Quit’ match. The you thought that you would take things one step further and ‘force’ me into agreeing that the loser would leave PRIME.

Jason Natas: Which ya did!

Jay Phoenix: Of course I did, you idiot. I WANTED that match! I knew that – win or lose – you wouldn’t leave things alone. I knew that if you beat me in a normal match you would think that it meant that you could keep on going after me, or Rick. I also knew that if I beat you in a normal match that your stupid little, over-compensating, ego would force you to try again – and again- and again. I knew that – either way – it would be intolerable in PRIME if both of us were here.

Jason Natas: Well ya don’t have to worry about that anymore – you lost so you are gone!

Jay Phoenix: You are right – I don’t … but you are wrong about that last part, ‘my friend’.

Jason Natas: What the Hell are ya babbling about?

Jay Phoenix: You made the rules, you named the game – first person to say ‘I Quit’ loses and leaves PRIME.

Jason Natas: And when I was hitting your boyfriend in the head with a steel chair you were pretty quick to say it.

Jay Phoenix: Of course I was, Jason – it didn’t matter. Not then. The match was already over.

A very confused Natas stares at the screen as a calm Phoenix simply points towards it.



Rick pulls a towel from around his neck, throwing it into the ring where it lands at Natas’ feet. The referee looks at it then walks over to Rick, telling him that he can’t quit for Phoenix – the man has to say the words himself. Reaching down, giving Phoenix a moment’s respite, Natas picks up the towel and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face. With a grin he nods his thanks at a distraught Rick before bending to pick up the chair again.

Nick: … no!!

Unable to take anymore Rick steps through the ropes and charges at Natas but it is obvious that this is just what the big man was expecting. A shoulder block brings Rick up short, and with slow, precise movements he reaches around Ricks head before dropping him to the canvas with his New York Minute. Ricks face impacts and, as Natas sits up, the smaller man lies still.

Richard: He shouldn’t have been in there!

Natas glances between the two men before picking up the towel. Reaching down with his other hand he pulls Phoenix to the ropes where he ties him up with the towel with a makeshift knot. Testing it Natas grins, knowing that Phoenix won’t be able to move.

Nick: What is he doing?

Richard: Like I said – making it personal!

With a slap to Phoenix’s face Natas brings the smaller man back to semi-consciousness. Grabbing his blood soaked hair Natas lifts Phoenix face so that he can see Rick, lying flat in the middle of the ring. Then, with another slap to his face, Natas leans in close and shouts directly into the face, spittle flying.

"Are yer gonna say it now?"

Pushing Phoenix’s head back, smiling as the small man struggles against the knotted towel that holds him to the ropes, Natas stalks back to where Rick lies. Kicking him in the ribs, never taking his eyes off Phoenix, he reaches down and lifts the chair once more. With his foot on Rick’s back he stares at Phoenix, deliberate.

"Say it, you fuck!"

Eyes filled with malice Natas brings the chair down, hard, against the back of Rick’s head. His body jolts, then shudders, then lies still. He never makes a sound.

Nick: someone needs to stop this!

Richard: That someone is Phoenix – he CAN stop this.

Phoenix struggles, nearly dislocating his shoulders as he spins back and forth, bucking at the bonds that hold him tight. Tears flow freely down his face, leaving streaks through the blood that coats his skin. He goes still, body exhausted, and hope drains out of his eyes as he watches Natas raises the chair once more.

"… say it, say ‘I QUIT’ and I will let him go."

Phoenix stares at the larger man, eyes burning, before he looks long and hard at his best friend, partner and lover on the mat at Natas’ feet. His lips move and mumbled words escape.

Natas lifts the chair higher as he barks at Phoenix.

"I didn’t fuckin’ hear you … did you say, ‘I Quit’?"

Phoenix nods. It isn’t enough.

"Say it again."

Looking up at Natas, at the chair, at Rick Phoenix slumps. He opens his mouth, spitting blood to one side and then, slowly and deliberately, shouts.

"I QUIT!!!"


Natas turns to Phoenix and smiles, but it isn’t as confident as before.

Jason Natas: See – ya said it. Ya said ‘I QUIT!!’

Jay Phoenix: I know that I did, Jason, but you said it first – you said it twice actually, as if just to be sure.

Jason Natas: No way – that doesn’t count! I was just telling you to say it – I was just telling YOU to say IT!

Jay Phoenix: Too little, too late, Natas. You MADE the rules, remember … first person to say ‘I Quit’ loses.

Jason Natas: I didn’t mean …

Jay Phoenix: TOO LATE!

Jason Natas: … what?

Jay Phoenix: The referee heard you say it, the cameras picked it up and millions of people heard you say it … and say it first. You quit, Natas. You lost.

Jason Natas: No …

Jay Phoenix: Yes. I confirmed it with Lisa Tyler and the PRIME lawyers that YOU were so kind enough to get to ratify the match in the first place … it is legal, and it is binding. YOU. ARE. GONE!

Natas drops the microphone, a low growl building up in his throat, as he throws himself at Phoenix. His momentum forces both men through the ropes where they land in a tangled heap on the concrete. The referees and trainers pull the two men apart, a group holding a struggling and snarling Natas back as Phoenix pulls himself up onto the apron where he smiles down at Natas as he is slowly dragged back up the ramp.

Jay Phoenix: You know when I said, earlier, that I was trying to figure out what was so good about goodbye? Now I know – goodbye, Natas!

The crowd are on their feet and, with one voice, a chant suddenly breaks out that echoes around the arena.

NYAH NYAH NA NA

SO LONG

GOODBYE

JASON NATAS

SO LONG

GOODBYE

Natas suddenly stops struggling, shoulders slumping as he almost seems to deflate in front of everyone’s eyes as he begins to accept his fate. The referees keep propelling him backwards but, as he reaches the top of the rope he pulls his armas free and grabs a microphone from one of the men surrounding him.

Jason Natas: You know what, Phoenix? Congtrufuckinlations – you beat me. Fine. Just remember one thing – what you had to do to do so. What I made you do in order to get rid of me … you ain’t never gonna be the same again.

Natas drops the microphone and pushes past the staff, disappearing from view in a screech of feedback; his parting words causing the smile to fade from Phoenix’s face.

Nick: What in the holy hell just happened?

Richard: Jason Natas...is leaving us?

Nick: I think he has to.

Richard: First Shakur, now Natas...What in the hell is wrong with PRIME? I DON'T LIKE CHANGE!

Sitting behind her desk, Vice President of Talent Relations Lisa Tyler pours over stacks of paperwork. Her red hair is pulled back tightly into a ponytail to keep it out of the way, and she gnaws on a pencil clamped tightly in her teeth. The door to her office opens, and without raising her head she peeks up over the glasses resting on her nose. There’s no reaction as she quickly turns her attention back to her paperwork.

"Awww….that hurts, Lisa."

The unmistakably arrogant voice of Tyler Nelson carries through the office as he saunters toward Lisa’s desk. He pauses in front of it, peering down at the top of BLT’s head as she flips through pages in a folder. After a few moments of her ignoring him, Nelson looks over at an empty chair positioned in front of the desk.

Tyler: Don’t mind if I do, thanks.

He slides into the chair, smirking as he clasps his hands in his lap.

Tyler: Seeing a lot of red numbers on those pages, Lisa?

BLT carefully removes the pencil from the clutches of her teeth, placing it down on the desktop.

Lisa: Since you’re not part of my management team, that wouldn’t be any of your business.

Tyler: Touche.

Lisa leans back in her chair, forcing it to recline slightly.

Lisa: Tough loss last week. Poor Gamble was nearly crippled and he still managed to pull out a victory. That doesn’t really bode well for your long term prospects here.

Tyler: Do you really want to compare long term prospects with me?

The VP releases a heavy sigh, a slight break from her normal icy demeanor.

Lisa: What do you want, Nelson? I’ve got ten million more important things to deal with than you. They’re out of toilet paper in the south restroom.

Tyler: I’m here for the same thing I’ve been after since I came back. I want a seat at the table.

He points a greedy finger at BLT.

Tyler: Your seat.

Lisa: Are we really going to go through this again? It’s becoming quite mundane. You would think that someone with your supposed intelligence would realize by now that there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening.

Nelson scoots the chair up so that he can lean on Lisa’s desk.

Tyler: There’s no denying you’ve been a resilient bitch, almost bordering on worthy as far as opponents go. But there comes a time when even the most stubborn of mules must realize when they’re in too deep. Your revenues are down, your roster is in shambles, and the wrestlers are starting to realize that I can give this company the leadership it deserves.

Lisa: If you’re referring to your little group of followers, I’m unimpressed. Hessian almost ended up in jail, Sloane will end up there soon enough, and Tsonda is a head case.

Nelson simply looks at BLT with the same smirk he’s had on his face since he walked into the office, either unwilling or unable to wipe it off.

Lisa: If you’re counting on that band of buffoons to aid you in your mind numbing crusade, then I feel more than secure in my position.

The King of Greed leans forward a bit. The same smirk is on his face, but there is a different glint in his eyes. A soulless twinkle, if you will.

Tyler: Lisa, I’m here to give you one last chance to do the right thing and quit. After tonight, I’m not going to ask any more.

BLT exaggeratedly feigns wiping sweat from her brow.

Lisa: PHEW! So there is actually a light at the end of the tunnel? I thought I was going to be stuck in this bad dream forever.

The icy glare from Lisa Tyler attempts to pierce through Tyler Nelson’s soul. If he had one, that is.

Lisa: Since we’re dealing in finalities, I’ll tell you for the last time that I have absolutely no intentions of resigning my position, especially under pressure from the likes of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a promotion to run.

Nelson rises from his chair, buttoning his suit coat and pulling on his cuffs.

Tyler: I really hoped that it wouldn’t have to come to this, Ms. Tyler.

Lisa: Good evening, Mr. Nelson.

BLT buries her nose back in her paperwork as Nelson heads for the door. When he reaches the door he pauses for a moment to look back at Lisa. A sadistic smirk curls his lips as he turns and exits the office.

Nick: Welcome back to ReVolution, live in Topeka!

Richard: Topeka ... yay.

Nick: Thanks for the enthusiasm, partner.

Richard: That's your job, shill-boy.

Nick: Anyway, last week we brought your part one of Matt Mills' exclusive, in-depth interview with Troy Douglas. This week, we bring you the second installment.

Richard: Again ... yay.

The scene shifts to the same set we first saw a week ago, Douglas and Mills seated opposite each other with a flat screen TV flashing the PRIME logo and several intricate background animations sitting behind both of them in the middle of the room.

Mills: Let's talk a little bit about your injury.

Douglas: Which one, exactly?

Mills starts to specify, but Douglas merely shrugs him off.

Douglas: Don't worry, I know which one you're talking about.

Mills: Well?

Douglas: I was coming to the end of my rookie season in Philly, and we had a game at home against St. Louis. Now, if you know anything about old Veterans Stadium, it's that the spray-painted cement they liked to call AstroTurf was about the worst playing surface every conceived of by man. I can personally attest to that. I got sandwich blocked by a couple offensive lineman, my right foot got caught in one of the seams on the turf, and as I fell down, one of my teammates was blocked into me and fell right on an unprotected part of my neck. Murphy's Law in perfect effect. Anything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Mills: And what happened next?

Douglas: Well, the next time I woke up, I was in a hospital room downtown. My dad, my fiancee Lauren and a couple doctors were there, but the only thing I knew was that I couldn't move or feel anything below my waist.

Mills: What happened?

Douglas: I'm not the guy to tell you about the fancy medical terms, but it was severe spinal trauma, and I wouldn't be walking today if it weren't for an absolutely brilliant team of surgeons and physical therapists. I'm a product of the marvels of modern medicine in every sense of the term, and I'll always be thankful for that.

Mills: That time couldn't have been that easy, though.

Douglas: Easy? Hell no. To that point, I'd been handed everything. I worked hard, but I was naturally athletic, and I was goddamn lucky to get to where I was. That injury changed everything. Things like getting a glass of water or getting up to go the damn bathroom were borderline impossible, and the physical therapy, the rehab, the months of treatment, it was hell.

Mills: But, you made it through.

Douglas: Yeah. I still bear the burden from that today, but if it weren't for those doctors, and if it weren't for Lauren, I wouldn't be here in PRIME today. Never would've gotten into wrestling, may never have gotten out of a wheelchair.

Mills: You mentioned your late fiancee, Lauren Bennett. Tell us a little about her.

Troy pauses, collecting himself. He's mentioned Lauren before on TV, but never in so personal a context. He's about to enter uncharted waters.

Douglas: To ... uhh ... to say I'll never meet another person exactly like her is a gross understatement. We grew up best friends from the age of seven, when she moved in across the street, and there was very rarely a day after that when we were apart for the next two decades. Our families did everything together, and the two of us just grew closer and closer. We ... we fit together, is what I always liked to said. Our rough edges rubbed off against each other to make everything smooth and perfect. It's probably while it was so easy for us to go from being friends to being in love. It's like nothing ever changed, everything just progressed like it should have.

Mills: And she helped you through your injury?

Douglas: More than anyone can ever know. When I hit my darkest points, she kept me going. She was there to make me laugh when I needed to laugh, pick me up when I needed motivation and kick my ass when I needed a good asskicking. I'd proposed to her just after we left college, and I always told myself that if I could just stand up to see her walk down the aisle, everything would be worth it. It pulled me through, even though we never got the chance.

With that, Troy's eyes darken slightly, and the shot fades to a montage of Troy in the early stages of his wrestling career.

Mills: Next week, part three of our interview, as we discuss Troy's entry into the world of professional wrestling, and then, for the first time, he discusses in public what happened the night Jack Douglas and Lauren Bennett were shot and killed in Greensboro.

PRIME functions in large part thanks to Ambien CR (Controlled Release). The 12.5 milligram pill comes in a distinct blue color (but it doesn't have the same effects as that OTHER blue pill). The most elite superstars in the world of professional wrestling are out on the road wrestling some 200 days out of the year. Traveling to new cities. Staying in new and unfamiliar hotels. Working out three hours per day. The strains of living such an agonizing lifestyle can get to even the most disciplined of wrestlers and prevent them from having a good night sleep.

Hessian is seen destroying a hotel room.

Tony Gamble tries to kick over a bean bag chair and recoils in pain. The bean bag no sells.

Taking just one Ambien works in 30 minutes, leaving you passed out on the bed. You will wake up about eight hours later wondering what the hell happened: Why is your door still open, where did your hooker go, and where in the hell did your gold go?

Tony Gamble stands next to a backhoe and a strange Alabama man with dreadlocks who may or may not be Devin Shakur on Ambien CR.

Another great side effect of Ambien CR is that when you wake up, you don't remember what happened in the time after you took the medication. It is only after you come across the carnage that you remember. It's not fun.

PRIME is proud to endorse Ambien CR but not the destruction it causes.

Elise Ares looked on with disgust at the crew members milling around the backstage area. Her match with one of PRIME’s most sadistic men was coming up and they couldn’t have the decency to keep the noise down. Kazys Jankauskas stood by her side, encouraging her as she stretched in anticipation of what was sure to be a hell of a match.

Elise Ares: Excuse me! Apparently you idiots aren't paying attention, but greatness is trying to prepare over here. So if you could just... move along and get out of my way like good little minions, I won't have to use my big girl voice.

Kazys Jankauskas: I'd be more worried about Sloan than I would be about those guys. Don't turn your back on him out there, he might take it as an open invitation.

Elise: Like I'd ever turn my back on that sicko perv. I'm not going to give him the chance...

Chainz: I’ll take it anyway you give it sweety.

His damning, sarcastic, sleazy voice was unmistakable as he approached the tag team champions. Elise Ares almost shivered with the though of Chainz being in her air space.

Elise: I don't get paid enough to deal with scum like you.

She said in a low and disgusted tone.

Chainz: I hope you aren’t getting your hopes up girly. You and me, we’re not even in the same league.

She holds up her half of the tag team titles.

Elise: You’re right, we’re not. I've got class, style, finesse, and charisma to burn. I'm an icon in this place... I've got fame, fortune, and millions of fans. You're just a walking hard-on with a few wins up his sleeve. I'm a trendsetter and a ticket seller, you on the other hand, you're a... a...

Elise can't even come up with the right word as she takes a few steps back away from him. Her reaction makes him chuckle.

Chainz: What are you doing in a ring anyway? Shouldn’t you bent over in the kitchen somewhere? Why you letting your woman dictate things?

Kazys: You're just lucky they booked her instead of me, Sloan.

Kazys growls at Sloan as he steps forward, only to be restrained by Elise.

Elise: As much as I don't want to touch this... troll. I'll make sure he never wants to touch me again.

Chainz: Oh you mean like the past 8 people who’ve tried? You’re gonna be number nine for me honey, but I’ll give you the same deal I gave that queer Brandon Pierce last week, well almost the same deal. Why don’t we go out there and you lie down for me in the ring, then maybe afterwards you lie down for me in bed?

Her face contorts in disgust. She knew Chainz was a sick pervert, but being the target of his unwanted advances wasn’t something she would ever get used to.

Elise: I've been told I'm easy... but I'll never be that easy.

Chainz: I haven’t had a bit of salsa in a bit, bet you taste real sweet.

He advanced a few paces.

Chainz: After I’m down with Lisa Tyler how about we have a go round? I promise I won’t bite.

Backing away from the filthy man approaching her, Elise Ares finds herself bumped against a wall. He continues to pace forward and her slap was quick and connected directly with Sloan’s mouth. He stepped back a few feet holding his face.

Chainz: Kitten, you’ve just gone and made a big mistake.

Elise: Next time I’ll neuter you like the dog you are. One more step and I'll make sure you can never make little troll offspring. I'll see you in the ring.

And with that the Wolves headed off to get ready for the upcoming match. Kazys makes sure he never takes his eyes off Chainz as he massaged his mouth and watched her leave.

Chainz: Bitch.

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a NON-TITLE match!

Nick: Well folks here we go! The Intense Champion is going to lock horns with one half of the Wolves of Slaughter.

Richard: The half that doesn't have a clue why they're here or the half that wants all the gold and glory?

Nick: The latter half.

All I wanna do is...

*GUNSHOTS*

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

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

As the pounding bass beat of "Swaggerific" by Verbz begins to play over the arena, it's greeted by a choir of jeers. Blue-violet and gold lights move around to the beat as Elise Ares explodes through the curtain making her way out into the arena. Taking a few steps forward with a hop in her step, Elise pauses and looks around at he crowd with a smirk before holding her arms straight and out and motioning her fingers towards herself as if saying "look at me!" She stops moving her fingers and just holds out her arms as if acknowledging the praise before making her way down to the ring.

Vince Howard: Introducing first! Hailing from Miami, Floria and weighing in at 121lbs...ELIIIIIIISE AAAAAAAREEEEEEES!!!!

They call me the walkin beauty paegant
Don't need a crowd with my jewelry flashin
10 girls behind me tryin to be like me
Hella fly till I die and there ain't no actin
I'm a connoseur and I'd like to help you
The look on your face got ya s*** devalued
How ya gonna rock donatella with a frown?
Girl this ain't a competition
Do you wanna ask the crowd?

Elise Ares starts her swagger down to the ring with a skip. The attitude in her step fumes of arrogance while she heads towards the ring. She wears a black leather bikini-style top with a blue-violet tribal pattern going across it. Several fans reach out to slap five with The Havana Harlot on her way down to the ring, and she pulls away from them... not wanting their grubby little hands to touch her.

She wears a black leather bikini bottom along with matching black leather studded chaps, with a blue-violet tribal pattern going up each leg of those matching the top. Reaching the end of the aisle she slides into the ring under the bottom rope and crawls across the canvas for a second on her forearms before somersaulting up to her feet.

I'm the type of girl who can make things rare
If I wear something, it'll sell out everywhere
I rock hells bells with my new chanel
You rock fake nails, chanel with two L's
I freak black pearls, I freak rose gold
Your pearls turned black when the paint got old
This is non a popularity contest
When God make me he made a new commandment

The Harlot walks over to the corner and pulls herself onto the top rope. Looking over at the crowd she holds out her arms and shakes her hips to the music with a bit of a cocky smirk. Jumping down Elise walks over to the other side of the ring and climbs that turnbuckle. Once again she shakes her hips to the music while waving her fingers towards herself in a "look at me" type motion.

Fly, fly, fly (and he said...)
Thou shalt be fly, fly, fly (til the end...)
Until the day you die, die, die
I'm fly, lemme testify
Not a habit, I'm just gifted
Lord please keep me swaggerific

Jumping down from the top rope Elise Ares backs into her corner where she jumps in place a few times to stretch for the upcoming match. The lights in the arena return to normal and "Swaggerific" fades into the boos of the crowd. Which Elise interprets in her mind as cheers, and responds with a smile of acknowledgement.

Richard: There's the broad that should've bought her partner's Uni shot. Silly witch.

Nick: Elise Ares is a skilled individual Richard, she doesn't need to be handed shots. She earns them!

Richard: All she's going to get from Chainz is a nasty case of ring sting.

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

Nick: Here comes the most hated man in PRIME, the Intense Champion no less!

Vince Howard: AND HER OPPONENT! Hailing from Hell's Kitchen, New York and weighing in at 295lbs...he is the Intense Champion......CHAAAAAIIIIIINZZZ!!!!

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

As the boos continue to rain down Michael Sloan slides into the ring and paces back and forth waiting for the bell to ring. Referee Elvis Nixon checks both over for any foreign objects before reading them their rights and finally throwing his arms as the bell ringer.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Nick: Ok here we go, one half of the Tag Team champions versus the Intense champion!

Richard: Man-sized tissues at the ready!

Chainz eyes up his foxy opponent, licking his lips and pacing around the ring while Elise dances from foot to foot, arms up ready for any advance. Closing in on her, Chainz brings his arms up and lunges forward to lock up with the Swaggerific One. Ducking and rolling, Elise dodges the grasp of Chainz and nips up at his rear, planting a boot into the back of his knee and dropping him to the one.

Nick: Elise brings down the Monster straight off the bat! Boy is she fast.

Richard: Ninety four pumps a minute I'm told.

Nick: I'm not even going to probe into that.

Before Elise can get another shot in, Chainz is up. Spinning on his heel he fires a left towards her and as she blocks it he grabs her arm and whips her across the ring. Roaring out he attempts a clothesline, which Elise once more ducks below, springing up at his rear and dropkicking the same knee. Again Chainz drops and just as quickly gets back to his feet, charging forward into the ropes and on the rebound charges into Elise who utilizes her athleticism and leaps clear over his head.

Nick: Elise getting a lot of hang time with that massive jump! She gives up nine inches in height against Chainz and still manages to clear him!

Richard: Funny you should say that Nick, Chainz would probably gladly giev up his nine inches for Elise too!

Nick: Hall of Famer, Richard Parker, ladies and gentlemen...

Richard: Thank you!

Chainz carries through regardless and hits the ropes again. Elise spins around but to her surprise the Monster is already running back, and with no time to counter finds herself scooped up and hoisted high into the air before being slammed hard into the canvas with a spinebuster.

Richard: She can't be that fast after all.

Nick: Chainz surprised her with his speed there, and for a 295lber he can be pretty quick when he wants to be!

Following up with a sharp elbow to the chest, Chainz hauls Elise to her feet and scoops her up for a body slam. Kicking out frantically, Elise manages to pull herself free of his clutches and drops to his back once again. As Chainz spins he swings out for another clothesline. Elise ducks, and as the arm passes overhead she hooks her own arm around it and propels herself around Chainz's torso, flying around and hooking the neck to drop the Monster with a DDT driving his skull into the mat.

Nick: Tornado DDT from out of nowhere! There's that speed and quickness again!

Shaking off the effects of the DDT, Chainz tries to get back to his feet while Elise sprints for the corner and hops up onto the second rope. On his feet Chainz turns as she flies off the ropes and connects with a corkscrew lariat, staggering the big man. Managing to stay on his feet he gasps as Elise comes out of nowhere with a dropkick to the chest, sending the Monster tumbling into the ropes.

Running off the ropes adjacent to her left, Elise charges back across the ring and springs up and off the second rope, coming down with a leg drop across Chainz's bowed head and unlatching him from the ropes and onto the mat. Giving him no respite she follows up with a cartwheel heel kick aimed straight at Chainz's black heart.

Nick: The Swaggerific One is holding her own here against a man who has dominated each and every match he has participated in since returning.

Richard: And without any help from her oversized Borat buddy!

Nick: Kazys is Lithuanian, Richard...

Richard: YEGJAMESH!

Elise goes for the pin. Nixon is down immediately for the count.

ONE!!



TWO!!



Kickout.

Nick: Close on two for Elise Ares!

Richard: Wow Chainz would throw a fit if he got beaten by a chick.

Nick: That'd make a change...

Elise pulls Chainz to a sitting position and connects with a snapmare. As she flies overhead however the Monster catches her around the neck and quickly grabs her tights for support. Awkwardly pulling himself up the bastard gets to his feet and just as quickly drops once more, connecting with a backbreaker on Elise and eliciting a cry of pain from the Wolf.

Nick: The Intense Champion countering the offensive move by Ares.

Richard: It's nice hearing that again, isn't it?

Nick: Hearing what?

Richard: "Intense Champion". Been a frickin' while since we heard that on a ReVolution.

Nick: It sure has, but if Chainz keeps up the way he is we'll be hearing it a lot more.

On his feet, Chainz pulls Elise up and whips her across the ropes. Lifting a big boot in her way he groans as she ducks beneath it and pops up behind him yet again. Sensing deja vu, Chainz kicks out wildly behind him and catches Elise in the gut, sending her stumbling into the ropes. With a sick grin on his face, Chainz eyes up the Swaggerific One while Tracy cheers him on from ringside. One voice in a sea of thousands chanting his name in a positive light.

Advancing on her, Chainz grabs Elise and sizes up a run into the corner. With all his might he whips Elise across the ring, sending her cascading into the turnbuckle. Irritatingly she somehow uses the momentum to propel herself straight up onto the top rope, where after an initial wobble she regains her footing and stands triumphantly atop the turnbuckle.

Nick: Elise makes getting thrown around on your ass look great! I know I keep saying it but what athleticism from one half of the Wolves! She is a testament to her luchadore legacy.

Richard: And also one hot tamale!

Grumbling, Chainz takes a step forward and beckons Elise off the top. Gritting her teeth she leaps off the top and wraps her legs around his neck in mid-air, looking for the hurricanrana.

Nick: High risk from Elise here! Can she fell the big man?

Folding back and pulling with all her might Elise follows through on the hurricanrana, but unfortunately finds herself simply hanging upside down as Chainz fights the momentum and keeps her held upside down. To a chorus of boos from the packed house the Intense Champion pulls Elise back up onto his shoulders and unleashes a devastating powerbomb, the sound of flesh smacking off the canvas blunt and hard as the Monster reels her in and once again drives her into the mat with a second awe-inspiring bomb.

Nick: Chain Reaction! Chain Reaction by the Intense Champion! Elise is down!

Back pressed to the canvas, Elise whimpers in pain as Chainz holds her down for the pin, grinding against her and smiling like a killer as Elvis Nixon makes the count.

ONE!!!

Nick: Can she kick out from Chainz's finisher so early in the match?

TWOOOO!!!

Richard: No man she's loving that dry humping too much, why would she want to get up?

…

…

THREEEEEEE!!!!

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner...CHAAAAIIIIIINNNZZZZ!!!

Nick: She couldn't do it! Chainz's size advantage was just too much for Elise and she took a Chain Reaction straight to three!

Richard: Well that makes nine consecutive wins for Chainz, a title belt and a living barbie doll on the end of his tool. This guy has got it going on!

Nick: Indeed he does! Who will be next to try and stop Chainz reaching that hallowed decade of wins?

The last note of My Gift to You by Korn plays Chainz through the curtain.

Nick: Ladies and gentlemen, we are now six weeks away from the Great American Nightmare, LIVE on Pay Per View! And don’t forget, coming up later tonight, right here on Revolution, we’ve got the Grin himself, Tony Gamble taking on what’s only being called a mystery opponent.

Richard: And he’s probably still nursing that Powerade injury too! Gamble’s really fighting the odds here tonight!

Nick: Well, it sure does have everyone talking backstage. No one seems to know what’s in store for Tony Gamble tonight. Also, coming up, we’ve got-

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

Richard: We’ve got the champ! The CHAMPS!

Nick: Oh great.

Jason Snow emerges from backstage in all his glory, a title belt gleaming beneath the hot arena lights on either shoulder. He spins for the crowd, arms outstretched, while they boo him vigorously. The dual champion takes it all in stride, literally, heading down toward the ring with a cocky grin smeared on his face. There’s still a noticeable limp to his step, but gone are last week’s crutches.

Nick: Well, it does look like our dual champion is finally recovering from his war with Kaiser Vashaun at Colossus VI. It still sickens me to think just how close Vashaun came to shutting this ego-maniac up once and for all.

Richard: Are you kidding me? Snow clearly outclassed Vashaun in that match!

Nick: Richard, I don’t know about you, but last week I saw a half-broken man walk out here. Hell, he wasn’t walking at all! He was on crutches! Are you saying Kaiser Vashaun wasn’t responsible for that?

In the ring, Snow is holding his championships up for the fans while they spit venom at him. He climbs opposite turnbuckles before finally wandering toward the center of the ring where he catches a microphone.

Snow: To start off, I want to tell you all that you can go STRAIGHT TO HELL!

The booing gets louder. Not that Snow doesn’t expect it.

Snow: That’s right, you ungrateful bastards! I put on the show of my God damn life for you at Colossus, sprained my ankle in the process, and damn it, I didn’t get BUT ONE Get Well card! And I suspect that was from Jay Phoenix, and only because he fancies me sexually. To him, I say, "thanks, but I’m not interested." And to the rest of you, I say…

Slower this time…

Snow: YOU CAN ALL GO – STRAIGHT – TO – HELL!

Nick: All class, this guy. It’s li- …. Richard, what are you doing?

Richard: Writing out a get well card! Do you know how I can get a predated post-mark?

In the ring, Snow is back to his usual pacing, and his limp suddenly gets far more noticeable, but still, the audience gives up no sympathy.

Snow: Now, I know what you’re all wondering. Since there are no real challenges left for my title as the G-reatest wrestler in the Universe…

Holds up his Universal title. When he lowers it, he begins to strap it around his waist with his free hand.

Snow: You want to know, who is it that will prove themselves worthy of a shot to be called the second greatest wrestler in the Universe.

Shines up the 5-Star title draped over his shoulder.

Snow: Well, plebes, have no fear. The fact is, since Colossus, I’ve been looking high and low for a worthy challenger. You can all rest assured that I’m leaving no stone unturned, and as the weeks progress, with painstaking attention to detail, I’ll narrow the candidates down to a single challenger. And that challenger will be granted a shot at becoming…. The second G-reatest wrestler in the Universe.

Richard: You hear that, Nick? No stone left unturned!

Snow: And it just so happens that tonight, after two weeks of searching, interviewing, and criminal record checking, I’m ready to reveal the first candidate that I’ve deemed worthy for consideration.

The boos die to a low hum.

Nick: This could be interesting.

Snow: Now, this might not be a man known to soak in the limelight quite like myself. And it might be a man that’s had to toil and sweat and work hard for every damn thing he’s ever got in this industry. But I’m Jason Snow, damn it, and I believe in rewarding hard work! Wenches and plebes, if you’ll turn your attention to the big screen… I give you…

The screen first fades from the live image of Snow in the ring to black. All around, the buzz-saw opening riff of Nirvana’s "Smells Like Teen Spirit" drowns the arena noise. Slowly, the still photo, dated seven to ten years now, fades out of the darkness…























A collective groan from the older fans can be heard over top of the confusion from the younger.

Nick: What the… hey… is that…

Richard: He deserves it! He’s been toiling away for years!

Nick: Hank?

Richard: HANK~!




HANK~!

Snow: Hank~!

Nick: Oh for the love of…

The image on the screen begins to fade while Snow smiles proudly in the ring, one hand clutching his 5-Star Championship close. As word begins to spread through the arena who Hank is/was, the boo-birds come calling again.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Snow: Oh, doubt him all you like you simple bastards! Do you think it’s easy finding an opponent suitable to face the likes of me!? I suppose… I suppose you’d rather me show you Chandler Tsonda’s picture up there!

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nick: I think that’s an affirmative!

Snow: Well forget it! Or, or, I suppose you’d rather me tell you that I’m considering TYLER RAYNE’S crippled ass!

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Nick: Yeah! Yeah, now that would be something!

Snow: Or, or, or maybe you want me to say Kaiser Vasha-

"Sound of Madness"

Snow’s left with his jaw hanging. Meanwhile, the roof is absolutely blowing off the place. The music comes through your screen like a shoddy connection over the roar.

Nick: Would you listen to this place!?

Richard: Shut up you idiots! You’re giving me a headache! That’s a loser they’re cheering for, Nick! The winner’s in the ring!

Nick: I think anyone who watched Colossus saw that Kaiser Vashaun proved that he’s every bit as talented as Jason Snow, and that he deserves another shot at the Universal title!

Richard: Well, Snow was just about to say that Vashaun’s not even worthy of a shot at the 5-Star title! Not even in the running to be the second greatest wrestler in th-

Nick: Oh please! Listen to this place! Tens of thousands of fans have had a change of heart toward Kaiser Vashaun!

Vashaun steps through the curtain and takes a moment to stare menacingly down the ramp at Snow. Snow, in the ring, curses away from the microphone, obviously displeased at being interrupted for the second week in a row. Finally, the former 5-Star and Intense Champion begins his march to the ring. Once inside, he noticeably crowds Snow’s space on his way to a turnbuckle where he raises one hand for the crowd.

Nick: This could get ugly real quick!

Richard: He doesn’t have any business out here!

Nick: Two months ago, you loved this guy!

Richard: Things change.

Vashaun paces a line directly in front of Snow, microphone in hand now. Snow watches, temper boiling, and when Vashaun doesn’t say anything, he decides he’s had enough.

Snow: Plebe, you’ve got exactly five seconds to ge-

Vashaun: I know it just kills you to be interrupted, Snow, but I’ve got a little something to get off my chest.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

Vashaun: I was sitting backstage, watching your little circus act out here… watching you make a mockery of the 5-Star title with your candidate for a future challenger. And all the while I was thinking about going to Lisa Tyler and talking to her about getting myself another shot at that title.

Points to the Universal Championship around Snow’s waist.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

Vashaun: But the more I watched, Snow, the sicker I got. And the more I replayed Colossus in my mind, the more it ate a hole in my fucking stomach... that I should be wearing that title. You might have won the match that night, Snow, but I proved something to myself. Not only am I every bit as good as you…

Pause. Finger directly in Snow’s face.

Vashaun: …But I can be better than you!

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Vashaun: So I told myself, you know what? The hell with it. The hell with going to Lisa Tyler and asking nice. I figured I just come out here to see the man himself. I'd come out here to see you about getting another crack at the Universal Title, Snow.

Snow smirks, the crowd cheering all around, and within moments the champ is doing his lion’s pace in the ring, eyes locked on Vashaun while his body twists to turn at the end of each line.

Snow: You?

Looks around at the crowd.

Snow: You want a shot at this? At the G-reatest Wrestler in the Universe title?

The smirk broadens.

Snow: Well, I’m sorry, plebe, but that ship sailed. Now, if you want to get in line behind Hank(~!) for a shot to be the Second Gre-

Vashaun: Let me stop you there, Snow.

Richard: He hates being interrupted!

Vashaun: Because I think we have a little misunderstanding here. You see, while you’re babbling on with your excuses not to give me a shot, you’re overlooking one simple fact.

Vashaun steps close to Snow. Very close. Snow glares up, not backing down an inch.

Snow: And what’s that?

Vashaun: I wasn’t asking.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!

Richard: THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! You don’t interrupt the champion, and you certainly do NOT make DEMANDS of a DUAL champion!

Nick: I think he just did! And he’s got every single person in this arena backing him up!

A moment goes by with both Snow and Vashaun, a diagonal line between their eyes, glaring at each other. Electricity buzzes through the building. Buzzes between them, larger than life in the ring. Vashaun’s right bicep flexes as his hand clenches and unclenches. Snow’s jaw circles with his grinding teeth, his famous temper ready to explode now.

Slowly, Vashaun’s microphone rises in what small space there is between them.

Vashaun: So what’s it going to be, champ?

Snow’s microphone does the same. Thousands of fans all around him and millions at home hanging on the moment, waiting for his response.

Snow: …Kaiser Vashaun…

Everyone on the edge of their seat.

Snow: …Not today… Not tomorrow… not EVER!!!!

Vashaun takes a deep breath.

Vashaun: I figured.

Snow: What do I have to gain from a rematch with yo-

And suddenly, he can’t speak. A face full of Kaiser Vashaun's right fist staggers the champ, his 5-Star title flying off his shoulder and the microphone dropping to the canvas from the jolt of the blow. The Universal Champion readies himself to react, but before he can make a single move, he’s floored by a follow-up left.

Nick: Kaiser Vashaun’s not taking no for an answer!

Snow tries to charge, but runs head-long into a knee from his attacker, and he goes falling back toward the corner. Vashaun is on him immediately with an intensity that Snow isn’t prepared for, driving knees into the abdomen and elbows into the back of the champ's head. Snow manages to push himself free of the assault, stumbling out of the corner, and in the time it takes Vashaun to stalk toward him, he unstraps the Universal Championship and swings it wildly at the aggressor. But the shot sails harmlessly in front of Vashaun’s face, at least a foot away, and the Next in Line throws a boot into Snow’s stomach that doubles the champ over.

Nick: Here we go!

Richard: I want that man suspended!

The Original Villain suddenly finds himself hoisted six feet off the ground, and from his vantage point atop Kaiser's shoulders... the trip down doesn't look pleasant.

Nick: WEIGHT OF THE WORLD!!!

Weight of the World.

The champ is flattened in the center of the ring, his title a good three feet from him. The 5-Star championship somewhere beneath his limp body.

RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Kaiser Vashaun lifts his arms to salute his newfound screaming cult of fans, hovering over the fallen champion. He mounts Snow’s chest and jaws for a moment, inches from his face. And the champ, either unconscious, or barely conscious, has no response.

From there, Vashaun snaps up to his feet and climbs a turnbuckle, hands held high once again, as "Sound of Madness" rips through the arena.

Nick: Vashaun is going to get what he wants one way or another! I love it!

Richard: I thought you were supposed to like the goody-goodies! That was uncalled for! Snow’s injured! His ankle!

Nick: This isn’t golf, Richard!

Richard: This is ridiculous! Kaiser Vashaun is out of control and outta line! He just assaulted our Champion. He can't do that!

Nick: He just did! And each and every one of these fans in this arena... they're loving every minute it! Kaiser Vashaun just crashed one of Jason Snow's ego rants in the biggest way imaginable.

Once down from the turnbuckle, Vashaun looms large over the PRIME Universal Championship. The most coveted prize in all of combat sports. He kneels down to pick it up, and for a moment, he stares into it at his own reflection. He pulls it close to his face, seeming to breathe it in, and then he tosses it back down across Snow.

KAI-SER! KAI-SER! KAI-SER! KAI-SER!

The Next in Line points down to the Universal title, and everyone in the world knows what that means:

He’s coming back for it. One way or another. And probably violently.

Matt Mills: Hi, folks, Matt Mills here to promote Full Tilt Poker dot net. Playing poker in a casino all the time is an extraordinarily difficult task because I'm such a global superstar and all the ladies want to get with me everywhere I go.

Loud snickering is heard off camera.

Matt Mills: I turned to online poker late last year in large part because I needed to make some extra money. There is no better way to learn, chat, and play with the pros for free. You can find all of the highest stake cash games and some of the biggest tournaments on the Internet. Your favorite players like Patrik Antonius, Phil Ivey, Gus Hansen, Tom "durrrr" Dwan, Squamch, MovieMike and FamilyGuyW00 all play there frequently.

Matt Mills: Now you might be asking yourself, "Matt, how do you deal with the bad beats? You seem like a pretty mellow guy." Well folks, the truth is that is another advantage of online poker. You are the gatekeeper to your emotions. Nobody can tell how you deal with the bad beats unless you let them. Although...

Mills wipes some sweat from his brow.

Matt Mills: To be honest, I'm SICK of the bad beats. The other night I was playing in my usual 2/4 PLO cash game and I flopped quads. I flopped FOUR. OF. A. KIND. I COULDN'T LOSE! There was a flush draw out there, BUT THE ODDS WERE LOW! I bet the pot and he RE POTS ME! I'm thinking EASY MONEY! First class flight to the Landon Arena, baby! I instacall and he flips over a gutshot royal draw. The turn gives absolute bollocks but the river...HE HIT HIS ROYAL FLUSH! I'M BROKE NOW! AHHHHHHHHH!

Mills slams a chair into the wall.

Matt Mills: SO IF YOU WANT TO LEARN, CHAT, PLAY WITH THE PROS, AND GET SUCKED OUT ON SO BAD IT FEELS LIKE YOU'VE BEEN WITH A NEW YORK HOOKER THAT HAS TWO TEETH, GO TO FULL TILT POKER DOT NET!

Mills storms off the set.

Staring at the dreaded top shelf of his locker, Gamble tries to out-pimp the giant piece of crap metal to bend to his will. He clutches a towel in hand, glancing occasionally at the floor of the locker packed full of his stuff...and that empty top shelf mocking him.

click.

It's the only sound the door makes. Too preoccupied with the quandary of his large locker the Grin doesn't even notice until the light over him turns to darkness, outlined by a large head and shoulders atop a massive torso shadowing him. Sighing, Tony slings his towel into the locker not caring where it lands. He turns around, and doesn't so much gasp as whimper.

Hessian: Evening big man.

The giant towers over him, a vacant expression cast over his face while his shiny golden Elite Title hangs lovingly on his shoulder. Gamble tilts his head all the way back to get a look at the goliath standing in front of him.

Gamble: Uhh...shouldn't you be raking a can against steel bars right now instead of here?

The Elite Champion sighs and shakes his head. After the bumbling antics of his arrest rumors had been flying around the company for the whole week concerning his incarceration. Lisa Tyler with the assistance of one of PRIME's solicitors had put the situation right with the police which saved him the embarrassment of explaining to everyone in the place just why he was carted away in cuffs on 203.

Hessian: Well, are any of us meant to be anywhere?

Gamble: Uhm...I'm sure you had a lot of time to ponder over the meaning of life during your stint up in the joint, but I'm a simple man with far better things to do with my time.

Never one to give anyone a reason to feel power over him, Tony quickly changes his demeanor.

Gamble: So in the words of the greatest midget of all time: "Wha'cha talkin' bout, Willis?"

Hessian: Well, what reason do you have for being here tonight?

The goliath's tone was gruff and as imposing as his massive scarred frame looming over the Grin like a monolith.

Gamble: You ain't heard? I'm pulling a Linkin Park and going somewhere I belong...main event, baby boy!

Gamble rubs the back of his neck, trying to figure out if that really was a leprechaun that peeked out of Hessian's beard, pointed at the title, and screamed: "That's me gold!"

Gamble: Besides making the room stink like liver and onions, what the hell are you doing in here?

Hessian shifts on his feet and adjusts his title, looking at the locker he steps over and picks up the towel discarded over Gamble's other kit and effortlessly places it on the top shelf. Smiling at the little PRIMEate, the Elite Champion runs his tongue over his teeth like a hungry predator and chuckles.

Hessian: Well that's the thing. See, after last week the board weren't sure – and neither was I to be honest – that I'd be able to make it here tonight. Fortunately for them I was.

Gamble: Awesome. I'll get the mayor of San Antonio on the phone and see if we can't schedule you a river parade.

Hessian: Right. So because they didn't want to look fickle in the face of the fans they booked your match tonight billing you against a mystery opponent.

Gamble: No shit. I've been up and down the hallways all night trying to find out who I'm facing, but no one knows a damn thing. Nobody's bothered to tell me nothin' about who I'm facing, and to tell you the truth it's starting to piss me off!

Tony lifts his arm in his best impression of E.T. and extends his index finger toward the face of the Elite champion.

Gamble: I just came off a BRUTAL injury at Colossus and now, on top of that, I'm stressing out because of all this secrecy surrounding my match. I wish someone would just tell me who the hell it is so I can go grab me a lemonade Amp and some hot Cheetos.

There is no pause, just a crack of a smile as Hessian bends at the waist to lean in to look the former Five Star champion in the eyes.

Hessian: It's me. Enjoy the rest of your evening.

With that, the Murder Show takes his leave, lingering in the doorway with a sinister grin as he closes the door over leaving Gamble standing unimpressed in his locker room. Satisfied he's alone again, his seemingly unshaken demeanor suddenly falters and the Grin starts breathing heavily, nervously scrambling for his cell phone in his pocket. Beating numbers into it he holds it against his ear, his face becoming pale.

Gamble: You...Daniels...my room...NOW! NO the blister hasn't burst...it's Hessian!.........Yes the match!! You need to be here like yesterday!

The scene fades out as Gamble hangs up and glances at the locker. In a sudden fit of...whatever emotion someone feels after being told they're facing Hessian, he grits his teeth and lunges at the towel hanging just over the lip of the shelf, trying desperately to recover it while his boys make their way to his locker room...

Tantrums in the PRIME locker room are commonplace. Let's say someone jumps another wrestler from behind, humiliating them in front of the public and other boys. When they come to, happiness won't be the first emotion coursing through their veins. Should another wrestler provoke their brethren in a promo, blasting them for whatever, a table or chair is likely to get tossed around the locker room or down a corridor. Wrestlers are, by nature, a violent breed and not prone to settling their differences with words, even on inanimate objects.

Or in the case of Tony Gamble, you've just found out that you are facing the biggest and heaviest man on the roster, Hessian.

Devin Shakur

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

He hasn't even appeared on camera yet.

...BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

and Christian Daniels

VROOM! VROOM! GONGGGGGG! Lights out

Who the hell is running the sound board?

Anyway, the dynamic duo have been summoned by The Grin because he is TOTALLYFREAKINGOUT about having to step into the ring with the giant.

Tony Gamble: Does someone have a paper bag? I need one.

Devin Shakur: Are we back to this whole paper bag schtick again?

Tony Gamble: I gotta find something to breathe into, man.

Devin Shakur: I'm telling you kid, paper bags and you don't mesh well together.

Tony Gamble: That was a nasty rumor you spread, none of it actually happened.

Devin Shakur: Oh, it happened, I'm sure there's a YouTube clip of it out there somewhere.

Christian Daniels: What'na hell're we talkin bout?

Tony Gamble: A bunch of bullsh-

Shakur slips into his seldom seen Southern drawl and pulls a toothpick from out of his pocket.

Devin Shakur: Let Ol Dev tells ye fuckers'a story-

Christian Daniels: Gimmick meters'a runnin.

Devin Shakur: Dis hear fella got himself all tied up in knots with one dem der brown bags, tryin'ta breath into it like gon save his sorry hide. Well, paper bag ain't too fond'a people invadin its space, so he suffocated the little feller and techniclee pinned his sorry bee-hind bout ten times fer I had to pull em apart.

Tony Gamble: ...Ok, look, I called you guys here for a reason so we need to get down to bidness.

Devin Shakur: It's very hard to talk like that all the time.

Christian Daniels: Mmmhmm.

Tony Gamble: I can't go out there alone and face Hessian, my finger still isn't 100 percent-

Devin Shakur: Why don't you just put some mole skin and man up you pansy.

Tony Gamble: ...PRIME should be thankful that I'm working back to back ReVolutions because only an idiot would do that.

Devin Shakur: ...Only an idiot would ask to be booked on ReVolution.

Tony Gamble: I do it for the fans.

Devin Shakur: You don't have any fans. You are about as hated as I am.

Tony Gamble: (slipping into Waterboy accent) Ma-ma-mama said I the bestest wrestler in the world.

Christian Daniels: Ugh.

Tony Gamble: Alright, Hessian is probably going to eat me, I don't know the guy that well, but he looks like he carries a fork and knife around with him at all times. I think I even saw a baby crawl out and try to sell me some weed.

Devin Shakur: You saw a what?

Tony Gamble: A baby...selling weed...Man, you ruin all my jokes.

Christian Daniels: We got a plane to catch if this ain't goin no where.

Tony Gamble: Right, right...Look, I figured you guys could come down to the ring with me, maybe make the big guy a little nervous? Take over the commentary booth if you like. I don't care.

Nick (OSV): Oh God, please, no.

Richard (OSV): They can't hear us.

Devin Shakur: How long do we have to stay out there?

Tony Gamble: Just until the match is over and then we'll go out for cake and ice cream.

Christian Daniels: You mean we'll steal some cake'n ice cream.

Devin Shakur: We're heels, we don't pay for shit.

Tony Gamble: So then you'll do it?

Devin Shakur: Sure.

Gamble fist pumps, claps his hands together, rubs them, and then motors down the hall.

Tony Gamble: LET'S DO IT, BABY!

Gamble smacks his hands together again and rounds the corner. Meanwhile, Shakur and Daniels exchange a look that says "What have we gotten ourselves into" before collectively facepalming.

Devin Shakur: All I can say is that my life is pretty plain...I like watchin the puddles gather rain-

Christian Daniels: Ok, if you start another lyric, I'm gonna cut you.

Devin Shakur: I no sell everything emo related...

Simultaneously, both men hang their heads low and walk down the corridor, ready to escort The Grin on the way to his judgment day.

Richard Parker: Hi, folks, Richard Parker here on behalf of Little Caesars Pizza. Pizza, pizza, motherf**krs. Now, if you'll look down at my pot belly and incredibly fat ass, you'll know that I'm an expert on all kinds of fast food. When I'm out on the road and I need a quick fix, if there is one around, I'm definitely hitting up Little Caesars. Their made to order pizzas, a large pepperoni or cheese, are only five dollars. FIVE BILLS. FIE DOLLAH. Unlike Domino's who can fluctuate with their large pizzas from about 12 dollars to 23, these are only 5 bucks. You can get an especially tasty treat to boot for only 3 bucks, breadsticks and a BIG CAN OF SAUCE. Not one of those stupid little containers Domino's sticks in. We are talking a BIG thing of sauce. The breadsticks by the way, best in the WORLD. Bar none.

Richard Parker: If you never listen to anything I say at the commentary table, know one thing, I know food and you should get to know Little Caesars. Pizza. Pizza. IT'LL GET YA FAT!

Mike Gundy: FAT!

Richard Parker: MMM! MMM! BITCH!

Coming back from the commercial break, the camera quickly cut to the center of the ring. Vince Howard stands in the space, a note card in one hand and a microphone in the other.

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, she is a former two-time Universal Champion, a former two-time PRIME Tag Team Champion, and a PRIME Hall of Famer! From Tampa Florida, LINDSAY! TROY!

His job done, Howard left the ring so that the Queen of the Ring could soon occupy it without dealing with the presence of another person in her space.

Nick: And here we go!



RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Trampled Underfoot blared over the loud speakers, bringing the Topeka faithful to their feet. It had been months since they had seen the incomparable Queen of the Ring in person. But now, they were about to be given their first taste of the crowd favorite in what seemed like ages.

Nick: Lindsay has been very quiet ever since the Devin Shakur/Tyler Rayne saga came to its stunning conclusion. And she’s a woman who has her hand in so many pots in this company; you have to think she could be out here to address any number of things.

Richard: What if SHE was the one who brought the Universal Championship shot off the Wolves? Oh no!

The camera scanned the crowd, catching fans with signs adorned with her name. It was as if Topeka had a premonition that tonight would be the night Lindsay Troy made her long waited return to the company she had helped build into a monolith in the world of professional wrestling.

Nick: Snow isn’t even at one hundred percent yet I don’t believe. If that were to be the case, the Queen of the Ring might very well be back on top of the PRIME throne the same night she comes back!

Richard: Don’t say that! Just don’t say that!

TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY! TROY!

Their still deafening cheers continued unabated as Trampled Underfoot continued to play. Almost ninety-seconds into the song, she still had yet to arrive.

Richard: Oh that’s just like her, to milk this crowd for all its worth. How revolting.

As she had done so many times before, she pushed open the curtain and—

The second there was a shuffle in the fabric of the curtain, the lights of Landor Arena shut down, Led Zeppelin cutting off immediately after the black had settled in. The fans became restless, booing after being teased by the WalTron shot of Lindsay Troy making her way out from the back.

Moments later, the WalTron flickered to life. The lights remained off.



Unease rippled through the crowd as the sudden tones of an unknown song began assaulting their eardrums.



When the lights came back to life, the center of the ring was filled by Lindsay Troy. Her face completely covered by a black hoodie, she brought the PRIME microphone in her hand up to her mouth.

Lindsay Troy: Am I…interrupting something?

That wasn’t her voice. She had never spoken in such a muted rasp.

Nick: (exasperated) Oh my god.

Though as tall as Troy, whoever it was that was standing in the ring was obviously wider. The optical allusion was played effective solely because she hadn’t been seen in months.

Richard: (muffled underneath his hand) What?

Those that recognized the voice could feel the steadily rising disgust settling against their sternums. Nick Stuart knew who it was the second he had heard the tones of that voice. Richard didn’t, but nobody had ever pegged him as the most intelligent or aware color man in the business. Most of the fans certainly didn’t know, at the time, what was exactly in the ring. Who could blame them? It had to have been years since they had heard that voice.

The figure’s free hand slowly swept the black hood away. Though cosmetic surgery had slightly changed the features of his face, he was still quite recognizable. His trained green eyes cut through the crowd just as they had the souls of those he had faced.

They knew what stood in the center of the ring was the utter antithesis of Lindsay Troy. Whereas she had taken the flag of the company and waved it through times of crisis, he always fought for himself. Whereas she had built bridges in the company, every single thing he touched was rendered to ruin. Whereas as she was famous for contributions she had made, he was infamous for what he had torn down.

Nick: Are you kidding me?

P A R I A H




Richard: Yes!

Pursing his lips together, Youngblood scanned the crowd as he unzipped his black hoodie. Lying it down on the canvas, Brandon began pressing the creases out of his Tapout shirt. His prominent jaw line had been shaved down, his nose straightened and narrowed. All subtle hints of scar tissue which once acted as a prominent feature of his face had vanished. His arms were completely covered in black sleeves of ink.

Brandon Youngblood: Again…I ask…am I interrupting something?

His delivery was low key and calculated. The monotone of his voice was interrupted by the fierce dismay of Topeka’s disapproving fans.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Brandon Youngblood: Or perhaps I’m not. See, Lindsay Troy was never coming back tonight. Blaine Blair just got a phone call from me saying she was. Why? Because what better way to get this company all fired up into a crazed frenzy than by telling the entire world that one of your franchise players is making her way back into the picture after running out on everyone…what…two months ago? Now the real question is, why? Why did I do it? Why did I place that phone call and start getting the gears set in motion for this big reappearance by the Amazon Bitch?

Without an immediate person from the back out to unpack his reasoning, Youngblood was left to peer across the lower level of Landon Arena. But the fans were sure to let him know what they really felt of the calculated deceit done onto them by the PRIME Pariah.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Brandon Youngblood: It’s not because I’m the greatest wrestler alive today.

Taking a step back, Brandon bent his neck downward. He let the pause linger as he gazed towards his lap, the fingers of his left hand scrapping across the surface his jeans. It was all for effect; Brandon wasn’t about to go off on one of his typical tangents, not about to confront the PRIMEates on the terms they had come to know him by. His head swiftly shooting back up, he brought the microphone to his lips.

Brandon Youngblood: What? You thought I was going to come out here and pat myself on the back? Talk about who I busted up? How I damn near crippled Hall of Famers? Of all the times I held the 5-Star Championship? That I was going to spout off catch phrases, one liners, and names I created for myself just to get you all riled up?

All he had were rhetorical questions. Shifting his position from a rigid upright to a comfortable slouch, Youngblood began taking small steps forward towards the camera. Grasping the top rope, he leaned forward and continued to speak.

Brandon Youngblood: When I left, I might have done that. I might have been that brazen, scream-so-you-look-at-me character that everyone always said I was. That I actually was. But ever since Easton Hall…or was it Tyler Rayne—

The very mention of the Underground Pimp sent tremors of joy throughout the crowd.

RAYNE! RAYNE!

Brandon Youngblood: Are you done?

No Brandon. No they aren’t.

RAYNE! RAYNE! RAYNE! RAYNE! RAYNE! RAYNE! RAYNE!

Brandon Youngblood: That’s great. That’s just…great.

Youngblood pushed himself away from the top rope, his smile shifting to a disgusted sneer. The muscles in his neck visibly tensed up. Walking in semi-circles across the center of the ring, he let his fury build. But suddenly, he stopped. Loosely resting his head against his right shoulder, Brandon flashed a knowing grin. They had brought out his temper; now, he was going to draw out their ire.

Brandon Youngblood: Saying the name of a gimp is all it takes to get you people going crazy?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The edges of his mouth turned upward as a razor thin smile slithered across his face. Cocking an eyebrow, he played the gee-willikers game as if was truly ignorant of what he had just said.

Brandon Youngblood: Oh what? Now we’re going to grow all sentimental on the poor guy? Act like he’s absolved of his sins now that he’s not out here sinning before every-damn-body who flipped the channel to FX? He’s been in this industry long enough to know that if you bite from the poison apple of short cuts…of cheap tactics…of violent behavior…your ticket is eventually gonna get punched. And there ain’t nothin’ you can do about! Nature of the beast, man. So excuse me for not crying fake tears on the tombstone slab that now represents his career just so I can get a cheesy pop!

The heated tenor of his diatribe grew in intensity the longer he spoke. Flashes of that old frenzied fury of words was enough to show the fans just how deep their allegiances cut through him. Hesitantly smacking his lips and fidgeting with the microphone in his hand, Youngblood began pacing around the ring in silence. He tried to cool himself down, but the flush of his skin couldn’t hide the physical appearance that trademark storm had wrought. Stomping to a stop, Brandon began patting his chest as he returned to speaking.

Brandon Youngblood: Now what? Huh? What you thinking? That I’m gonna start throwing down the gauntlet? That I’m gonna talk about how I want to show Chandler Tsonda that two years ago at King of Kings was a fluke? That I’m gonna come and rip apart Lindsay Troy apart for all those great cracks she had at my expense? That I’m gonna go up to Devin Shakur and break his legs for making light of my jaw being big enough to cut through granite? That I’m gonna walk right to the front of the line and start demanding Jason Snow bow to me?

He wagged his finger to the crowd, attempting to reset their expectations.

Brandon Youngblood: You see…you see…I learned that even if you talk the biggest game in the world…if you smear and you yell and you scream from the highest roof top…that all you are doing is spittin’ in the wind! I can’t walk up to any of those people right now. Troy is gone, and who knows if she’s ever coming back. Tsonda is off in protected la la land. I really got no bones to pick with Shakur because he did me a favor in breaking both of those bastards’ legs. I ain’t out here to tell you what I’m gonna do. I ain’t out here to make threats and demands. You want the truth? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I’M OUT HERE!

There was a moment of confusion throughout the crowd. Some booed, but others just looked at each other. Brandon had begun chuckling, a twinkle in his eye as he looked towards the distant camera in front of him with an uncomfortable beam. But that laughter stopped. And with machine precision, he dialed down the bluster. His words rolled out from the pit of his stomach with an impassive air.

Brandon Youngblood: But I know one thing. We’re stuck with each other now, PRIME. And each week, I’m gonna find a new reason to keep coming out here. And each step forward I take is going to do what it never did before; shake the foundation of this damn company to the breaking point. And I don’t care it’s reduced to rubble when I leave.

He rose the microphone up only to drop it. His neck slightly cocked to the left, Youngblood’s stoic face stared clear through the first few rows of Landon Arena as if they never had existed. With a jagged flit, Brandon grabbed his hoodie and paced towards the entrance ramp. Each step forward reverberated across the ring as he proceeded to step between the ropes.

Eyes cast downward, he looked at no one. The detached nature of his jaunt was filled with that trademark self-importance that once acted as a foundation of his PRIME career. Just like in the past, Youngblood screamed his way into the PRIME consciousness. And what would follow was sure to be the same old self indulgent ride of overcompensating solipsism.

It was as if time was stuck in an absurd loop.

We follow Matt Mills, jogging through the arena corridors, around one bend, two, three, and then… stops on his heels. Takes a deep breath. Musters every ounce of professionalism in his being.

Mills: Snow? Snow! Champ!

Snow (pacing in front of Lisa Tyler’s closed office door) also stops on his heels, fists up and ready for a fight. Mills takes a clumsy step backward, but when Snow realizes he’s not Kaiser Vashaun, his posture changes. Mills straightens himself and moves in for the interview, glancing at the name on the door next to them.

Mills: Waiting for Lisa Tyler?

Snow scowls.

Snow: The wench won’t see me! Me! Her dual champion! Her champs! But I’ll show her, damn it. I’ll wait out here all night if I have to. She’s not getting out of this room without facing the music for what happened out there tonight.

Mills glances at the door and then back at Snow.

Mills: Ah, Snow… you do realize that Lisa’s office has a second entrance, don’t you?

Snow blinks.

Snow: …a… …a second entrance?

Mills: Yeah, in the back. It leads out by the staff break room. I just saw her out there a few minutes ago. With a coffee.

Snow looks stunned. Glances at the door.

Snow:… coffee?

Mills: Yeah. I don’t think she’s in there.

Suddenly, Snow turns violently toward the door and begins pounding on it with his fist.

Snow: DAMN IT WENCH, YOU’D BETTER BE IN THERE! I DIDN’T SPEND ALL GOD DAMN NIGHT OUT HERE FOR NOTHING! WENCH! WENCH!

Stares at the door for a moment.

Snow: Hmmm…

Mills waits for a moment before saying.

Mills: Really, Snow, I don’t think she’s i-

Snow: Damn you, plebe! Have you got some business with me or are you going to just yap on my shoulder for the rest of the night?

Mills clears his throat.

Mills: Well, everyone’s waiting to hear how you’re going to respond to what happened tonight. Kaiser Vashaun demanded a shot at your Univ-

Snow: That was his first mistake, peasant! You don’t demand anything of a champion! The world saw me put that prehistoric looking bastard’s shoulders on the mat for a three count at Colossus VI. I already took all he has to offer! He wants a shot at my Universal Championship, but what’s in it for me? Let me tell you rule number one of being a Supreme Being, you worthless piss ant – I’m always looking for bigger and better challenges. Always making sure I’m on the cutting edge of what this industry has to offer. I may have been born better than the rest of you, but damn it, it’s hard work to stay this way!

Mills: So you wo-

Snow: I mean sure – someday, I may lose all of my God-given talent and natural ability. Perhaps in thirty or forty years. And when that time comes, I suppose I may succumb to some of the more tempting tricks of the trade. Maybe, in the stead of utilizing natural ability, I’ll be forced to kiss the asses of these foul peasants in the stands. The commoners.

Disgusted shiver.

Snow: Or maybe, if my God-given ability dries up, I’ll make some pathetic attempt to mask it by spelling my name in some hip alternative way. "Z"s seem to be pretty popular. Maybe I’ll call myself Jason Znow and pretend my cool name makes up for my obvious lack in ability. Maybe I’ll force you all to call me the Champz!

Mills has no idea what Snow’s going on about.

Snow: But until then - and might I remind you that that day is decades away – I AM the champs! THE CHAMPZ!

Nick (OSV): Did he just say he wouldn’t do that until his ability dried up?

Richard (OSV): Don’t question the ways of greatness.

Snow: And what I say goes!

Mills is completely and utterly confused by the direction his question propelled Jason Snow.

Snow: And as far as Kaiser Vashaun is concerned… I stand by exactly what I said. He will never…

Eyes on Mills…

Snow: …never…

Eyes on the camera….

Snow: …NEVER get another shot at my Universal Championship.

Mills: But Champ, Ka-

Snow: Champz.

Mills: … … Champz, Kaiser made it quite clear tonight that he’s going to do everything in his power to force you to sign on the dotted line. Are you really willing to deal with that kind of thorn in your side as we begin down the road to the Great American Nightmare?

Snow: Kaiser Vashaun can do anything he damn well pleases! He thinks sucker punching me out there tonight is going to get him closer to a title shot? Well, maybe that’s just his unevolved primate brain. And next time, I’ll be ready for him! Listen, plebe, if Kaiser Vashaun wants a fight…

Sadistic smirk…

Snow: …Well, just as we saw at Colossus, I’ve got plenty of that for him. But if it’s another title shot he wants?

Looks into the camera.

Snow: There’s no way in hell. You see, I took already took his 5-Star title. I took his pride. I took his dignity. What you saw out there tonight was a desperate man, and I’ll be damned if this wench that BETTER BE IN THIS OFFICE…

Glances at the door, hoping he was heard.

Snow: …isn’t going to do something about it!

From there, Snow goes back to pounding on the door, shouting obscenities. Mills slowly backs away, hoping not to be noticed.

We need something to place in between the previous segment and the next one so it doesn't look really odd.

So I'm going to think of the first thing I see or think of.

YouTube. Go there. They have an encyclopedia of funny stuff.

"May I come in?"

Jay Phoenix peers around the edge of the partially open door as he gently raps on the wood. From across the room, and behind the desk that she sits at, Lisa Tyler raises a single eyebrow as she stares at him for a few seconds.

Lisa Tyler: Are you ok?

Jay Phoenix: Still a bit sore, and headache isn’t quite gone, but not bad, thanks.

Lisa Tyler: Are you sure?

Jay Phoenix: Yes – why do you ask?

Lisa Tyler: Well because I am pretty sure that this is the first time since – well, forever – that you have knocked AND waited for a reply before barging in here with a demand of one sort or another!

Jay Phoenix: Yeah, about that …

Lisa Tyler: Yes?

Jay Phoenix: I just wanted to say that I am sorry for being such a pain over the last few months. Not an excuse but with all of the pressure of feeling backed into a corner to work for PRIME and then the scrap with Sabuani and then Natas, well …

Lisa Tyler: You turned into a pain?

Jay Phoenix: Actually, yes. And I took a lot of my frustration out on you, which wasn’t fair.

Lisa Tyler: You are right – it wasn’t. However I can understand how you were feeling, I suppose. I’ve been there myself, don’t forget – I KNOW what it is like to have everyone against you.

Jay Phoenix: That’s just it. You weren’t against me. I know that, now. You were just doing your job and, ultimately, it took realising that to realise that I was fighting against doing my own – I am a wrestler. Actually I am a pretty damn good wrestler, and I was so busy fighting against the business that I forgot one simple thing.

Lisa Tyler: Which was?

Jay Phoenix: That I enjoy this.

Lisa Tyler: And now that you have remembered that fact – what now?

Jay Phoenix: Now I do two things … the first being, now that I have the apology out of the way, to say thank you.

Lisa Tyler: What for?

Jay Phoenix: Working with me to make sure that the ‘I Quit’ stipulation went ahead in my match with Natas. I knew that if I bided my time, if I kept on pushing the buttons by threatening to retire at the drop of a hat …

Lisa Tyler: Only threatening?

Jay Phoenix: Yeah – ok – some of it was pretty real. In the latter few weeks, though, since I found out that Natas was behind all my misery since Christmas, most of it was playing him at his own game.

Lisa Tyler: I have to be honest and say that I didn’t think that you had it in you, Jay.

Jay Phoenix: Me neither … it scares me, a little.

Lisa Tyler: What does?

Jay Phoenix: The fact that I could play that sort of mind game against Natas and the fact that I could do it so well. It’s like he said, when he was escorted out tonight, that I may have beaten him but that thanks to him I have changed … it’s true; I just don’t know how much I’ve changed. Was it worth it?

Lisa Tyler: I can’t answer that one, Jay, only you can. End of the day you took a gamble and it paid off. You are still in PRIME and Natas isn’t. He can’t hurt you, or Rick, again.

Jay Phoenix: Well then, that will have to be enough – it will have to have been worth it.

Lisa Tyler: You said that there were two things, Jay. What was the second?

Jay Phoenix: Oh yeah – no more threats of retirement, no more half-baked appearances. If I am in PRIME … and, trust me, I am … then I am in it one hundred percent. It’s time to start living up to what I am capable of doing and reminding everyone just why it is that Cantrell, and then you, wanted me here … it is time to remind PRIME of exactly what it is that made me a multiple time World champion and the only man to make the finals of two GTTs!

Lisa Tyler: Great – so you are going to start earning your pay then?

Jay Phoenix: Why not, I owe you that much, at least.

Lisa Tyler: Jay, while I will admit that I am really glad to see this change in you – this new life, so to speak – I have to tell you something. You don’t owe me anything.

Jay Phoenix: What?

Lisa Tyler: That match – the ‘I Quit’ stipulation meaning that the loser was out of PRIME and then backing the fact that Natas said ‘I Quit’ first, so lost …

Jay Phoenix: Yeah?

Lisa Tyler: I wasn’t doing you a favour, you have to know that. If you had said it first, if you had quit, then I would have backed Natas and you would have been gone from PRIME. For good. It was on Hell of a gamble.

Jay Phoenix: I know that, Lisa. Both things, actually. I know that you had a job to do and would have done it no matter who won or lost … just as I know that I put it all on the line to get rid of Natas, but you know what?

Lisa Tyler: … what?

Jay Phoenix: It was worth it and, given it to do again, I would do the same thing.

Lisa Tyler: Well the, as long as we are clear on things I have only one thing more to say – you’re welcome.

Nick: Welcome back to ReVolution, that was our final commercial break of the evening.

Richard: Weren't all the products great, tonight? Everybody should go out and buy all of whatever was suggested.

Nick: Those with DVRs probably never saw the commercials.

Richard: So capitalist they don't even want to watch capitalists in action.

Nick: And coming up now-

A split screen of Hessian and Tony Gamble is shown on the PRIME*View. The crowd lights up, eager to see the destruction of The Grin.

Richard: A candidate for comedy match of the year.

Nick: It's never out of style to say that Hessian towers over his opponents-

Richard: But he REALLY towers over this one.

Nick: The tale of the tape brings Hessian out to the well documented 7'2 and 355 pounds. Tony Gamble stands 5'9 and 187 pounds. He's giving up seventeen inches in height and almost two times his own body weight.

Richard: He's going to need all the technical savvy in the world plus a hell of a lot of cheating.

Nick: And when you think about it, if Desade and Wyatt Connors couldn't do that combined, I don't know if Gamble stands much of a chance on his own.

Richard: Well, he might have the odds even if Shakur and Daniels actually contribute to the effort.

Nick: From what we saw prior to the break, neither of them want to be out here.

Richard: Over there in the front row, they have their special match watching recliners.

Fade to two especially black recliners stationed on the East side of the ring.

Nick: It will be interesting to see if Hessian needs to keep eyes in the back of his head though, because if he does, Gamble could have an advantage.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada and weighing in at under a tenth of a ton...TONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GAMBULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

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. About six steps behind, disgusted they have to enter to such appalling music, are Devin Shakur and Christian Daniels, oversized popcorn bags tucked under their right arms. Up above Gamble's dome 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. Shakur and Daniels hop over the barricade and plop into their chairs, Shakur staring at his watch and sinking into the comfortable leather.

Vince Howard: And his opponent, weighing in at 420 pounds if you count his beard...ELLOS REQUIEMMMMMMMMMMMM, HESSIANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

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!

DING! DING! DING!


Tony Gamble: DEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Storming across the ring at a frantic pace, Gamble rushes toward Hessian. The Grin has an overwhelming amount of confidence after knowing his friends are backing him just out of camera range...

Nick: If Gamble tries to invoke this strategy, it's going to be a heaping dose of epic fail with a side of ouch.

But none of that matters when he is palmed by the giant and sent back across the ring. Undeterred, Gamble rises from the mat, dusts himself off, nods his head and tries a second time. Hessian sticks his insanely large paw out and swats Gamble away like the fly everybody else perceives him to be.

Richard: I don't like where this is going. We might see one of the most acclaimed members of the roster on a stretcher before this one is all said and done.

Hessian yawns in the corner, a psychological ploy to further enrage The Grin, and he doesn't disappoint. Gamble bolts across the ring one more time. Hessian sticks his arm out, ready to grab and tag for the third time...But Gamble plays it sneaky, biting the fingers of Hessian and making the monster recoil. The big man turns around and Gamble leaps on his back, delivering shot after shot to the back of Hessian's head.

Nick: While Gamble thinks that might be an advantage, I don't think he's made Hessian any jollier.

Richard: In fact, it's likely that he made Hessian-

Clutching the wrists of The Grin, Hessian falls straight back and squishes him like a bug.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: Angry.

The Murder Show rolls to the side and hops up to his feet, looking down at the deflated Permascar Superstar. Gamble lets out a huge breath, having just come back to life after the massive drop. Hessian gives him one for the road, leaping into the air and dropping a big leg across the sternum. Cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gamble sticks his foot on the bottom rope and gets relief from the 355 pounds collapsing him. Hessian looks down and mumbles, "You really wanna do this" before shrugging his shoulders and escorting Gamble up to his feet.

Nick: Hessian looking to make quick work of Gamble, and the two supposed fans of The Grin were ready to leap out of their chairs right there.

Shakur and Daniels sigh and fall back into their chair, readjusting the massage settings to Jason Snow (orgasmic). Meanwhile in the ring, Hessian goes for a windmill forearm strike, but due to his massive size telegraphs the hell out of the move. Even someone in the groggy state of Gamble can notice when something that gigantic is heading their way. He thinks fast and slips through the legs, using the incoming limb as a swing to get through the other side and drive an elbow into the back. Hessian slings around and goes for another shot, but Gamble shifts around and puts a forearm into the gut of the big man.

Nick: Gamble is going to have to stick and move, start reeling off high impact maneuvers. He needs to use the technical wrestling prowess gifts and bring Hessian to the ground. There is no way on God's green Earth he's going to win a standing war with the big man.

Before Hessian can latch onto him again, Gamble takes off into the ropes. He bounces back and avoids the boot, clutching at the leg and bringing himself under the ropes. He tries to use the additional support of the ropes to trip Hessian, but the monster doesn't go for it, reaching down and picking Gamble up by the head.

Nick: Uh-oh, could be big time trouble for The-

Gamble tugs on the beard and drops Hessian's neck across the top rope, scurrying around to the East side of the ring and hopping onto the apron. He wastes no time in springboarding to the ropes and double ax handling Hessian into the corner. The big man staggers a few steps, but still has his wits about him. Gamble surgically dropkicks the left leg and chop blocks Hessian, keeping The Murder Show in the corner.

Richard: Gotta give him credit, his confidence isn't diminishing.

Nick: Gamble believes he's the best wrestler in the world considering who he's beaten and he's out to prove that.

Gamble presses his shoulder into the gut of Hessian and grabs hold of the big man's left leg with both hands, lifting it up and wrapping it around the ring ropes. The big man isn't thrilled with being caught in the predicament, and goes to shoo Gamble away. Referee Bernie Roberts flies in and demands Gamble break the hold, but since Gamble is truly 'G', he's going to take the obligatory four point nine nine seconds before vacating.

Bernie Roberts: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIV-

Nick: Gamble is poking and prodding here, just hoping that something will end up working.

Richard:

Gamble tears into the hamstring with an uppercut and dives out of the ring when he feels Hessian reaching over the ropes to pull him back in. Gamble runs around to the opposite side of the ring, even though Hessian is watching him the entire way. The Grin hops onto the apron and springboards up, launching himself forward at Hessian. The mammoth creature catches him, but finds himself with two fingers jammed into the eye sockets. Hessian goes up to reach for his face, but Gamble spins him around in a breathtaking Tornado DDT. Hessian spikes into the canvas and causes a massive thud to resonate throughout the building. Gamble doesn't need to be instructed what to do next.

Richard: OHMYGODNOWAY~!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Hessian military presses Gamble to the other side of the ring. Shakur and Daniels exchange a look with one another like, "What the hell just happened, he almost won?" Gamble comes back like an unwanted bee, dropkicking Hessian in the side of the head. The big man doesn't change position, still stuck on all fours, but Gamble is not going to quit. His confidence rose to a new level. Quickly plotting his next move, Gamble charges ahead, leaps onto the back of Hessian, arches back and lands a beautiful shooting star press. Hessian goes down and Gamble tries to roll him over for a second cover.

Nick: Even if Hessian ends up being incapacitated, Gamble would still have to roll 355 pounds of dead weight around for the cover.

Richard: I think he'll need a forklift in order to accomplish that. Hell, Hessian might wake up and break the damn thing.

Gamble quickly realizes that he's not going to be successful in turning Hessian, so he resorts back to offense, leaving the Murder Show near the ropes and going back to the apron. Gamble grabs the top rope and leaps over, connecting on a somersault into the lower back of The Construction of Destruction. Gamble hits the cables and slings himself into a senton back splash, causing Hessian to grunt, but not roll over.

Nick: Hessian might stay in that position for the whole time limit and Gamble would be forced to go to a time limit.

Richard: It's a shame considering the amount of damage he's done. A normal man would be in jeopardy of defeat now, but Hessian has that undeniable girth which Gamble can't overcome.

The Grin stays on the attack, stepping out of the squared circle and onto the top rope. If Hessian won't roll over, Gamble will lure him up to the feet. Perched up top, Gamble waits about five seconds for Hessian to realize that no more offense is coming. The big man starts to stir, using the ropes to assist him up to a vertical base. Once Hessian starts turning around, Gamble leaps from the top rope with a cross body block-

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: Gamble, we hardly knew ye.

Nick: Hessian might have been playing a little bit of possum there.

Richard: Really? What an observation there, Newton.

Hessian stands in the middle of the ring shaking his head while Gamble squirms in his arms, looking for an avenue of escape. The Murder Show locks The Grin up, swings him around like a child and hoists him overhead in a reverse suplex. Gamble tries to tilt backwards, using all 187 pounds for leverage, but Hessian isn't going for it. He keeps Gamble in position for fifteen seconds and forces Gamble to fall face first into the canvas.

Nick: The Sword of Damocles. Gamble better get ready for the wildest roller coaster ride he's ever been on.

Richard: Only this one doesn't have many safety features, if any.

Hessian snatches Gamble from the canvas and fires him into the ropes. Gamble looks to impede his own momentum but doesn't get a say in the matter. The Murder Show reaches out and takes hold of The Grin, spinning him around in The Kiss of Death backbreaker drop.

Richard: GAMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Nick: When Hessian gets rolling that is one massive train to try and derail.

The velocity of the drop elevates Gamble a good foot off the canvas. Hessian sticks his arm across in a nonchalant way, looking for the victory.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nick: Gamble kicks out just before the count of three.

Richard: Hessian still not taking Gamble one hundred percent serious. I know he's not the biggest man in the fight, but he's one of the more resourceful.

Hessian digs his fingers into the shoulder of The Grin and brings him to a standing position, wrapping an arm around his neck in a sleeper hold. Gamble tries to pound away from the hold, but not many people are capable of breaking Hessian's grip. The big man slings Gamble around and puts him into the canvas, quickly rushing over and collapsing him with a big splash.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: Sickening power from Hessian. Cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble finds it somewhere within himself to kick out before the three. The defiance only enrages Hessian, who doesn't want to deal with Gamble anymore than The Grin wants to deal with him. The Murder Show goes back to work, lifting Gamble up like a paperweight and grabbing him around the legs. Gamble goes for a roll through, but Hessian doesn't let him get to his back. He pushes Gamble upward, letting Gamble get a good hard look at his friends checking their stop watches before he plummets face first into the canvas in a HellBound.

Nick: The power of Hessian's offense is unmatachable by anybody on the roster, even the returning Hoyt Williams. This display is slowly tearing at Gamble and soon he's gonna have to give in.

Richard: He might be snapped in half like those guys on Celebrity Deathmatch used to be. Hessian is certainly capable of that.

The Murder Show gets back to work, taking Gamble by the tights and launching him into the corner. Hessian walks to the opposite side of the ring, windmills his arms forward and rushes ahead like a runaway freight train, smashing into Gamble at full speed. The Grin stumbles out of the corner, swinging at air, with absolutely no idea where he's at. Hessian boots The Grin in the midsection, locks his arms around the waist, somersaults Gamble up, and puts him in the crucifix powerbomb position.

Nick: Hessian could do a world of things from here.

Instead of going through the usual pageantry, Hessian quickly releases Gamble into the air. The Grin tries to stick his arms out so they will break his fall, even just a tad, but even that doesn't matter. The force is enough to knock him loopy. Hessian dives on top for another cover.

Nick: The Ballista. This has gotta be it.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

A collective gasp goes through the crowd. Gamble sneaks his body to the side and finds a way to keep himself alive. Hessian and his city sized beard glare over at the referee, who appears just as stunned as the rest of Kansas, but manages to hold up two fingers. Hessian shakes his head and follows with a shrug of the shoulders. If Gamble wants to be the hero, Hessian has no problem making himself the villain.

Nick: Tony Gamble, the competitor, has come back to life. We haven't seen this much resilience from The Grin in quite a long time.

Richard: I don't think Gamble's ever met someone like Hessian. The man can absorb and dish out an incredulous amount of punishment.

The Murder Show places his hand across Gamble's throat, not bothering with the formality of lifting him to his feet before taking him to the air. Hessian holds him high in the air, showing him off to the ground in a newfound arrogance.

It's one that costs him dearly. Gamble reaches out and delivers a big punch to the windpipe, decreasing the amount of pressure on the grip. Gamble keeps hold of the arm, swings through Hessian's legs and comes up the other side in a Through DDT. Gamble lunges for a cover.

Nick: DOES HE HAVE IT?

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Hessian gets a shoulder up at the last conceivable second. The Grin lays exhausted over the barrel chest of The Murder Show, needing a respite after the consecutive moves he's endured through the match. Bernie Roberts looks at both competitors. Hessian is slouched on his side, rubbing at his big old noggin while The Grin blindly reaches out for the ropes.

Nick: Gamble has survived the massive onslaught of Hessian and now one has to wonder if he can do anything with the opportunity given.

Richard: Only a few men in the history of Hessian's career have been able to withstand that freakish strength.

Roberts sticks his pointer finger high, indicatng that the count is officially underway. Gamble and Hessian both move. They heard the count and neither wants the match to end this way. Two. Gamble grabs onto the rope again, but loses his grip and slips over Hessian, landing on the apron. Three. Hessian rolls away from Gamble and out into the center of the ring. Four. Gamble tugs on the bottom rope like a soldier going up the rope climb in training. Five. Hessian turns around onto his knees and looks around for his opposition. Six. Gamble crouches on the apron, spaghetti legged, but ready to strike. Seven. Hessian pushes off the canvas and is on one knee. Gamble springboards into action, twirling his body around and connecting on a jumping heel kick. Hessian tilts to the side and onto his back.

Nick: Gamble with another high impact maneuver! That one might have done it.

Richard: But he's not going for the cover.

Nick: That could turn out to be a very big mistake.

Richard: Read: It will be a giant mistake.

Gamble hits the ropes like a man possessed, not waiting for Hessian to get up before unleasing his next move. He curls his leg inward and sticks it out, wrapping it around Hessian's neck in a shining wizard enziguri. Gamble rolls through the move, hops onto the second rope and backflips in an Asai moonsault. COVER!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Hessian powers out one more time. Gamble slams his hands against the mat and looks up at Bernie, holding up three fingers out of desperation. Bernie gives him a "Sorry, bro" response and holds up two fingers.

Nick: There is still fight left in Hessian. Gamble thought he could have had him right there with that combination.

Richard: At this stage of the match, most other competitors would be out of gas, but not Hessian. The man is built so big that there's a lot of gas left even when the lights aren't on.

Nick: Go to Richard Parker for all of your gas or home powering needs.

Richard: I have this great theory that involves a 12 pack of soda and wind power.

Nick: Way to devalue the show after we had pretty much gone through it without a major snafu.

Richard: I aim to entertain, baby.

The Grin huffs and puffs but doesn't manage to blow any house down in getting up to his feet. Hessian strains against his already fatigued muscles in moving to a seated position. Gamble rushes forward and rolls off a Mr. Perfect neckbreaker. Hessian's neck snaps backwards onto the mat. Gamble slides underneath the bottom rope and scales quickly to the top, forgoing the time that is usually spent positioning and measuring the opponent. Gamble soars through the air and lands on top of Hessian, taking all the air out of the big man's lungs. Cover.

Nick: CROSS BODY! GAMBLE HAS ANOTHER COVER!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Hessian throws Gamble off one more time. The Grin is absolutely spent and doesn't have many more moves left in the bag of tricks.

Nick: The thing with Gamble is that he can't pull off the Smile for Me, Hessian is too damn big. If he can get the Stop Laughing at Me, that might work, but I don't think Hessian would stay down for it. He's going to need to come up with an unconventional way to beat The Murder Show.

Richard: And to be honest, Nick, I don't know if he has one.

While he might not have a move available that isn't going to stop The Gamble from trying. He exits the ring one more time and ascends the ropes, realizing that every time he leaves his feet, he is further risking the fact Hessian might catch him. Pounding at the mat in furious anger, Hessian climbs to his feet and stumbles around, almost to the point where he's had enough of the Gamble onslaught.

The Grin takes to the air one more time, falling downward in hopes of landing a stifling missile dropkick.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: THE MONSTER WAKES UP!

Nick: HESSIAN HAS GAMBLE!

The Murder Show slings Gamble around four full rotations before planting him to the mat with a Black Hole Slam. Gamble's upper body is going one way while his lower body is going the other. The Murder Show goes for a cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble can't contort his upper body this time and has to use the ropes as a saving grace. Hessian lets out a mammoth sigh and holds out his arms to Bernie Roberts in a "You've got to be kidding me" manner.

Richard: Ladies and Gents, we have three minutes left in this match.

Nick: Only three remaining, could this possibly go to a time limit draw?

Richard: Do you really think, in this economically rough time, BLT would let that go down?

Nick: It's hard to tell with her, but these two have given it everything they have to put on a Pay-Per-View quality match.

Hessian staggers to a vertical base, holding onto the cables for extra balance. He sees The Grin clutching the bottom rope like a child would his favorite blanket and takes solace in pulling Gamble away and placing him on the top rope. Hessian grabs a hold of the legs and goes to yank Gamble away from the ropes...

Gamble kicks him away. Taken aback, Hessian moves forward and receives an unexpected thumb to the eye. The Murder Show is blinded. Gamble takes a daring step and pulls Hessian in close, thumbing him in each eye two times before Bernie Roberts can get over and figure out the cause of Hessian's drunken movements. The Construction of Destruction trips over himself and falls to his butt in the middle of the ring. Gamble perches himself on the top rope and soars out toward the big man.

He reaches out and grabs hold of the head, violently slamming Hessian's skull into the canvas. Stop Laughing At Me. Gamble's trademark finishing move.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: OH MY GOD! GAMBLE HIT IT!

But The Grin doesn't stop there. He puts one final exclamation point out there, hopping onto the bottom rope, second, and finally the third, arching himself backwards in an exhilirating back flip. All his body weight lands on Hessian's head. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe it wasn't.

Richard: BEST MOONSAULT EVER AND FOR GAMBLE IT MIGHT BE!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

DING! DING! DING!

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Vince Howard: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH...TONYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GAMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Nick: THIS QUALIFIES AS UPSET OF THE YEAR! TONY GAMBLE HAS JUST DERAILED HESSIAN!

Richard: ...Dude, pinch me, I can't believe what I just saw.

Nobody in the building believes it either. While everybody is letting out a thunderous roar of approval, a lot of them are doing so in a state of shock. Hessian being defeated is one thing, but by Tony Gamble is another.

Richard: I think it's safe to say folks, the OLD Tony Gamble is back. The one who took Nova to the limit at Culture Shock 07, headlined UltraViolence 07, defeated Angelo Deville at King of Kings 06 and won countless titles.

Nick: The Tony Gamble who was seen as the most underutilized talent in the game, and one of the most DANGEROUS men on the roster.

Richard: Has just upset one of the biggest fireballs on the roster.

Bernie Roberts extends Gamble's hand high into the air. Beneath the surface, Gamble himself is in shock. He knew that the talent was there, but he never figured the opportunity would present itself.

On the outside though, he just sticks his head up in a 'What up' manner, because he's a straight up G.

And now owner of a rare victory over Hessian.

The two most shocked individuals in the audience are the ones who came out here to watch the frightened Grin's back, Shakur and Daniels. Ever since the pin, neither has looked at the other because their faces are stuck on the ring.

Nick: A potential Main Event player has risen from the ashes. He is one of the few people on the roster to own a victory over Jason Snow and now he can say, definitively, that he knocked off Hessian.

Richard: What a moment for Gamble. Nobody is going to call him a funny little midget anymore.

Nick: Well, they still might, but one with a heap of wrestling ability.

When the big man stirs, wiping away the blood from his nose that developed as a result of the moonsault, Gamble hightails it out of the ring and over to his stunned crew. He pops a fake jersey while Shakur and Daniels absentmindedly step over the barricade and walk out with the happiest man in the building.

Hessian, much like Tyler Nelson last week, doesn't have a clue in hell what hit him.

Nick: Hessian realized that you don't underestimate someone like Gamble, even if he is half your size.

Richard: It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog, and Gamble had a lot of it here tonight.

The Man in Black and Biker escort the chest thumping Gamble out of the ring and through the crowd, while Hessian observes the trio and kicks at the ring ropes. Wrestlers never like to lose and Hessian isn't an exception, considering he's going to get an earful from Chainz when he steps through the curtains.

Nick: Hessian gave it everything he had but Gamble was able to pull it out in the end.

Richard: Gamble is once again a force.

Nick: Well, fans, for Richard Parker, I'm Nick Stuart, what a wild night wouldn't you say?

Richard: Jay Phoenix is back in PRIME.

Nick: Brandon Youngblood and Hoyt Williams both returned in the same night.

Richard: Chainz continued his winning streak.

Nick: And...this.

Richard: Well let's get out of he-

Before Richard can finish his sentence, all the lights in the Landon Arena shut off.

Richard: HEY! Let us get OUT of here before shutting the damn building off.

Everybody else seems to be in the same boat. The power has gone out.

Well, that is, until the PRIME*View lights up.

The faint outline of a raven is seen against a completely white backdrop.

"You might be a mercenary, and think you owe no debts to anybody...But you are wrong, Hessian, you are dead wrong. You've done me wrong in the past and I've come to ReVolution to extract my revenge."

Nick: The stalker's voice, damn thing is pretty grainy.

Richard: More than likely using a voice modification system. I wouldn't want Hessian knowing it's me either.

"By the time I leave the ring tonight, you will know my name...And you will never forget it."

Nick: You will know my name...No way.

Richard: He doesn't have the sack to do this does he?

"Tip number 1 for you, slugger...

...Never turn your back...Ever"

Nick: ...What the?

The lights turn back on and someone who wasn't standing in the ring before the blackout occurred is there.

And he's wielding a pipe in his right hand.

A loud wave of shock resonates through the crowd as Hessian's stalker stands there, calmly swinging the pipe around in his hand waiting for the confounded big man to turn around.

The announcers can't even get the name out.

Richard: ...DUDE! YES!

Nick: If you wanted the personification of evil, all you had to do was ask apparently.

Hessian stiffens up and tightens his fists in rage. It's fairly obvious that he's been duped and from the reaction of the crowd, knows the stalker is in the exact location he is in.

Nick: Hessian's night is about to go from bad to worse.

Showing deceptive speed, Hessian spins around, roaring like a mighty lion and producing spittle that decorates his beard.

The stalker is indifferent to his reaction and strikes with the pipe a second quicker than The Murder Show was expecting. The clank opens Hessian's head up and sends him stumbling backwards into the ropes and eventually down to the canvas, backed against the turnbuckle.

For the home audience, the camera swings around and gets a Kodak moment of the stalker.

…

…

…

…

…

Devin Shakur.

And from the heap of humanity that just entered the ring, he's not alone. Christian Daniels barges past his brother and Tony Gamble dives forward like a rabid dog, putting his hand around the throat while The Biker pounds away with boots to the midsection.

Nick: What in the hell could Shakur have against Hessian?!

Richard: Well, you saw that video, Hessian obviously did something to Shakur that caused him to hate him.

Nick: The last time these two interacted was ReVolution 198 when Shakur hired Hessian to take out Bryan Dawkins.

Richard: Maybe he didn't do a thorough enough job.

Nick: Dawkins was unconscious!

Shakur steps forward and joins his gang in the assault on Hessian, stepping through the ropes and viciously stomping on the forehead of Hessian. A big trail of blood runs down the back of his thick hair from the pipe shot. The Man in Black mercilessly opens up the wound. Gamble backs away and drives his head down into the groin while Christian holds a boot against The Murder Show's throat.

The Man in Black backs toward the other side of the ring, charges ahead, and rifles off one of the most dastardly punts of his career, straight into the temple of Hessian. The big man goes loopy, arms outside of the ring, eyes shut. Shakur barks at Gamble and Daniels to go and retrieve weapons while he steps back into the ring.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: This is...an indescribable moment-

Nick: And it makes the ReVolution 203 smirk when Hessian was being arrested make all the more sense.

Richard: Could Shakur and Daniels have really been behind that?

Nick: Well there aren't many more ways to infuriate a man that having him accused of his girlfriend's murder.

Richard: ...Got a point there, but still...Wow. Shakur and Hessian. The power struggle this is going to entail is gonna be MASSIVE!

Re-entering the ring are Gamble and Daniels both with steel chairs in hand. The Biker tosses his to The Man in Black and pulls out his signature steel chain. Gamble rushes off the ropes and dropkicks his chair into Hessian's forehead, putting The Murder Show out cold. He's not going anywhere.

Nick: And the mugging is going to continue.

Richard: From what Daniels is doing, I think it's going to get much worse.

The Biker is down at Hessian's feet, wrapping the chain around his ankles, concluding the endeavor by wrapping the steel around in a knot. He uses the stationary legs of Hessian to pull the big man out into the center of the ring.

Nick: Daniels is one of the few people who can lift Hessian's dead weight.

Richard: Kind of nice to have someone like that hanging around willing to do whatever you desire.

Gamble swings the chair violently across Hessian's unprotected forehead. Shakur leaps into the air and unleashes his steel chair across the sternum. No doubt some internal bleeding is being caused by this. Shakur pulls out the pipe and goes where no man should go on Hessian.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: The mother of all low blows.

Nick: A pipe right into the groin of Hessian.

Richard: Well, he might not have murdered his girl, but he ain't having kids after that.

Even though Hessian isn't the most liked figure on the roster, Shakur has to be the most hated.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And the crowd is letting him know about it.

But The Man in Black doesn't appear to care. He is too fixated on the job and sticks his hand out, demanding a microphone from one of his two lackeys. Gamble drops a leg across the chest while Daniels yanks the house microphone out of Vince Howard's hands and gives it to his brother.

SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS!

Devin Shakur: ...Welcome to your worst nightmare, kid. If you thought the PRIME experience was bad with Lisa Tyler hanging over your head...You ain't seen nothing yet.

SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS! SHA-KUR SUCKS!

Devin Shakur: And as a little parting gift to you...We're going to leave you paralyzed from the neck down. Enjoy.

Nick: WHAT?

Richard: Shakur has a knack for ending careers.

The steel chair Shakur was using a moment ago is now unfolded and placed around the neck of The Murder Show.

Nick: Oh my God, they aren't going to do this! THEY AREN'T GONNA DO THIS!

Richard: Shakur is undefeated when it comes to putting people on the shelf.

To make matters worse, Tony Gamble isn't the one stepping out of the ring and ascending the ropes...

It's Christian Daniels. Three hundred pounds of tattooed biker climbs the ropes.

Nick: That's...

Richard: Gonna do exactly what Shakur just said. Break his damn neck.

Nick: THESE GUYS ARE DESPICABLE!

Shakur produces one of the sicker smirks he's capable of. Hessian's eyes open and glare at the sadistic Man in Black. He's emotionless while Hessian lays prone, struggling to get out of the chair. His body won't allow him to.

Nick: NO! NO! WE NEED SOME HELP!

Out of the corner of Shakur's eye, he spots a blurb flying down the ramp and yells at Christian to drop from the ropes and head for the crowd.

Nick: CHAINZ! CHAINZ!

He steamrolls down the ramp. Gamble flops to the canvas and rolls underneath the bottom rope. Shakur calmly steps through the ropes before the cavalry arrives. Daniels hops from the ropes and hits the floor before the adrenaline fueled hand of Chainz grabs hold of his bandanna. The triumvirate of assholes stands at ringside while Chainz goes over and liberates Hessian from the chair, hovering over The Murder Show.

Nick: Chainz made a critical save and boy, you have to wonder what might have happened if he didn't come out here.

Richard: Nobody else in the back was going to come out.

Nick: Oh man, folks, we're out of time,but you can bet this is going to be interesting when ReVolution 205 comes to you live from Raleigh, North Carolina, Devin Shakur's backyard!

Richard: Good night folks.

The last image of ReVolution is of Chainz and The Man in Black holding an evil glare with one another. Hessian starts moving around while his antagonists hop the barricade and move toward the Exit sign.

ReVolution 205 is gonna be evil.

Bank on it.

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